#glanced out the window and nearly ran off the road

[hug-your-face]

Yes! In childhood some *mumble* years ago, even suburban areas had darker skies than today.

Good news! The International Dark Sky Places (IDSP) is an organization dedicated to preservation and certification of dark sky locations and education/advocacy against light pollution.

They have a Dark Sky Site finder! Find a dark sky spot near you and OH MY GOD everyone -- you OWE it to yourself to see the Milky Way in all her glory!

I think one big reason why we don't consider the stars as important as before (not even pop-astrology anymore cares about the stars or the sky on itself, just the signs deprived of context) is because of light pollution.

For most of human history the sky looked between 1-3, 4 at most. And then all of a sudden with electrification it was gone (I'm lucky if I get 6 in my small city). The first time I saw the Milky Way fully as a kid was a spiritual experience, I was almost scared on how BRIGHT it was, it felt like someone was looking back at me. You don't get that at all with modern light pollution.

When most people talk about stargazing nowadays they think about watching about a couple of bright dots. The stars are really, really not like that. The unpolluted night sky is a festival of fireworks. There is nothing like it.

[majestyeverlasting]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐞.𝐦.

PAIRING Vampire Eddie Muson x Female Reader

SUMMARY One eerie night on your way home from work, you nearly run over someone who’s already supposed to be a dead man. As the truth slowly comes to light, an unlikely friendship forms—and begins to grow into something more. [fluff, mild angst, mentions of blood, 7.3k]

A/N There's no shame is coming back a little wrong. Here's to Halloween 2024!

𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝟷𝟿𝟾𝟿

The relentless staccato of the drums reverberating off the walls pulses in time with the headache cruelly settled in the front of your head. It’s no fault of Jim, the young kid beating away for a committed crowd of ten. Rather, it’s the culmination of an entire evening's worth of noise. Of fulfilling countless drink requests for half the thanks.

The Hideout seems to move in a delay as you finish wiping down your portion of the sticky bar. A little further down, your co-worker Alex pours whiskey for an older man with a wild head of silver hair. 

When you’re done, you head to the breakroom, weaving through sweaty bodies on the way. Shift officially over, you gather your belongings with quick hands, moving on autopilot as you so often do nowadays. 

Reprieve only comes after you’ve pushed through the back door and stepped into the night. The air welcomes you with a cool stillness. A stillness that didn’t exist up until a year ago when the ground shook and the heavens turned red for a short period of time. Those who could afford to flee left Hawkins and never looked back. People like you stayed behind. 

There’s been something different about the nighttime since that fateful day. Not only did the darkness deepen, but the nights themselves seemed to stretch longer. As if nothingness itself sought to swallow the town every time the sun made its descent. That reality doesn’t scare you anymore. 

On nights like tonight, there’s an eerie beauty to it all. 

The radio in your car bursts into pop when you start the ignition, but you kill it quickly. Tomorrow, you’d wake up, go to work, and do it all again. 

Under the glow of the remaining streetlights, you cruise your way through a near ghost town. One hand guides the wheel while the other remains propped against your head. There are more boarded windows and abandoned lots than there are signs of life, all memorializing a time that once was but is no more. 

As you turn onto Main Street, a dark flutter of movement catches your attention further ahead. You can’t quite make out what’s on the ground yet, but you slow down as a precaution.

It ends up being a black cat that scurries across the road, disappearing into an alleyway. What you’re not expecting is the figure that carelessly darts in front of you to chase after it. Slamming down on the breaks sends you lurching forward with a gasp. You don’t realize your eyes are squeezed shut until you peel them open, heart pounding in your ears. 

The figure, a man, as you can now make out, is on the ground on the other side of the street. He must’ve tripped over the curb in his haste. Propping himself up on his forearms, he glances in the direction the cat ran in as if debating to continue after it. 

Instead, in an air of defeat, he plops onto his back and stares up at the void-like sky. Alarm bells go off in your head at the possibility of this being some sort of trap, but you crank down your window because too much concern has settled within your ribcage. 

“Are you alright?” you call out to him. “I’m so sorry.” 

He just lies there, shifting ever so slightly.

Conflicted, you chew on your lower lip before finally deciding to get out of the car. The sound of your door snapping shut proceeds your hesitant footsteps as you pad over to him. 

The faint smell of vanilla and stale beer had registered with him the moment you opened your door, but it intensifies as you near, right along with a deeper, more vascular scent. The latter of which intrigues a primal part of him he often fought to suppress. Helplessly, instinctively, he licks over his teeth as the gums above his canines begin to tingle. 

You stop a few feet away as he sits up fully, hair long and disheveled. There’s an intensity to his gaze that isn’t threatening or unkind, just strikingly observant. Like an owl seeing through what you want him to see, straight to the marrow of who you are. 

In daring to look back into his eyes, you notice how they’re as black as the night sky. His face is pale, cheeks are slightly gaunt. 

He can see the moment you discard any notion of him being a threat, realizing how weak and pathetic he must look sitting on the ground. Embarrassment itches down his arms as he averts his gaze to the asphalt of the street. He can’t even pay himself the dignity of standing. 

“I didn’t see you coming.” Your voice is too sweet. “Do you need help? There’s a phone booth over there, I could call someone for you.” 

“I’m alright,” he murmurs. 

“Are you sure?” You study him for any signs of pain. “You’re not hurt, are you?” 

“Never better.” It took a lot more than a good wipeout to hurt him nowadays. 

He looks back up at you in hopes it will make you believe him. That’s when a sense of recognition kindles deep down within you. You repress it because it can’t possibly be him. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” The cadence of his voice, though weighed with tiredness, is unmistakably familiar in this moment. 

“Well, alright,” you finally say. 

Walking back to your car and leaving him alone almost feels like a crime. 

•••  

There’s a distanced look in your eyes as you stare up at Robin’s ceiling fan. It’s as still as you are, but the sunken cheeks of the pale stranger spiral around and around in your head. It’s past midnight and dim lamplight paints the room in a soft, yellowed glow. There are posters all over the walls, which are still painted lilac from her childhood. Everything from the album covers of Madonna and Blondie to movies like Psycho and Star Wars. 

The paper of her senior yearbook crinkles gently as she flips through the pages beside you. She stops when she finally gets to the senior portraits, pointing to Edward Munson as you flip onto your stomach to join her in looking. He has long hair, doe eyes, and a boyish grin. You stare at his face for a few quiet seconds, noting how much more alive he looked. Robin’s mouth opens a couple times but no words come out. 

“I swear it was him, Rob.” Your voice cracks a little with the weight of your sincerity. “And he looked like he needed help. Like he may be going through something right now. Something bad. Drugs.” 

Robin abruptly flips the yearbook closed. “He’s gone,” she says with the resolve of someone who’s had enough time to stitch old wounds closed. You can understand that.  

Considering the selfish discrimination that plagued Hawkins back at that time, you’re not even sure if the police department looked all that intensely. Maybe no more than a few echoing calls out into the woods for a couple days straight. They had better things to do than search for a troubled teen from Forest Hills Trailer park. The thought alone is enough to stir a sense of disgust within you, so you can only imagine how Robin feels being he was her friend. 

Eddie got held back and was set to graduate alongside you in eighty-seven but you never crossed paths, only shot the occasional curious glance his way because there always had been something magnetic about him. It wasn’t until Hawkins was rattled with the mysterious shaking that you befriended Robin, Steve, and some of their younger friends. 

They were among the residents who didn’t skip town even though they had the means to.  

Robin’s cheeks have taken on a light flush, so you give her shoulder a squeeze. “I’m sorry to bring this up on a random Saturday night, but it’s all that’s been on my mind,” you admit. “To think that he could be out there on his own, scared to come forward…” you trail off, unsure of where you’re headed. 

Her blue eyes look intently into yours. “You don’t go missing for that long and magically turn up alive… You just don’t.” There’s a practiced steadiness to her voice. 

With Eddie being someone you’d only ever seen in passing, you find yourself wondering why you wish her words were the furthest thing from the truth. 

•••

It’s quiet except for the whir of your bicycle wheels as you pedal back to your house the following morning. It feels like you’re gliding on the wind, bound to float up and away with a mere extension of your arms. The made-up tune you’re humming fades away when a slender black cat stops in the middle of the street about a hundred feet ahead, staring straight at you. It doesn’t startle as you near. 

The feline takes a few curious steps towards you as you dismount your bike, squatting down to make yourself look smaller and less imposing. That’s when you notice the collar around its neck that nearly blends in with its coat aside from the golden nameplate pendant. Luna.

“Hi, Luna,” you coo, holding out your hand. She nuzzles into it. “That’s such a pretty name. You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?” She lets you scratch behind her ears as she blinks her big green eyes in languid satisfaction. Her fur is soft and clean, clearly from being taken care of.  

“Did you run away from home? Is that what happened?” You take a quick look around even though you’re in the portion of town where the homes are tucked further back into the trees. Nobody seems to be outside looking. 

When you stand, she gazes up at you before trotting away. Only then does it occur to you that she probably knows her way back home. But you can’t shake the possibility that she was the same cat from two nights ago who was running from the dead man. So many pets had been displaced since the Shaking, but that didn’t seem to be the case with her. A small smile pulls at your lips when she looks back at you with a soft mrrow. 

Picking up your bike, you walk closer to her. Upon noticing you’ve begun to follow, Luna starts walking again and you trail after her. 

She eventually diverts off the street and under an A-frame barricade with a sign that reads: Private Property, No Trespassing. Now standing on a dirt road leading into the woods. When you stop, still on the road, she turns back to look at you—mrrrrow.

“I can’t,” you say. 

The sound of an approaching engine startles you. A police car that slows to a stop, rolling the window down to reveal a scrawny officer with an unkempt mustache, smoking a cigarette. He gives you a quick once-over. 

“You a friend of the guy who lives back there?” For someone living in the midwest, he has a thick Southern drawl. And an unfamiliar face, now that you’re thinking about it. Likely a new hire. What was even stranger than those who decided to stay in Hawkins was the handful of people who, for some reason, sought out the town. 

Glancing back at the dirt road, you realize Luna hasn’t moved. The officer lifts his brows in curiosity when your eyes settle back on him. 

“I—yes. I am,” you say. Thankfully, he looks like he believes you. 

“How’s he doing? Chief’s planning a welfare visit within the hour,” he says it like he’s trying to collect pieces of information for a puzzle he’s working out.

“I was actually just going to see him,” you lie. “Is there reason for concern?” 

The officer snorts and shakes his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You tell me. Nobody tells me a goddamn thing in this town,” he says. “I’ll get someone to crack soon enough. You take care of yourself, sweetheart.” With that, he pulls off. Mrrrow—

With a heavy sigh and buzzing nerves, you push your bike around the barricade and allow Luna to lead you down the road in a bouncy, graceful stride. 

•••

Three crisp knocks at the door startles Eddie awake on the couch. One arm is hanging off and brushing against the rug. He blinks a few drowsy times before mustering up the willpower to stand, trudging to go peak out the front window. It’s you and Luna. The way his heartbeat spikes makes him wish that no longer having a heart had been a part of the vampire deal. You’re wearing baggy jeans and a cute oversized cardigan. Your bike is propped along the railing of the porch stairs. 

Nobody was supposed to know about this place aside from a select group. A small part of him is happy to see your face again, but he knows this isn’t good. The fewer people who know about him, the better. Perhaps that was merely a lie he told himself when he managed to escape Upside Down, but it had stuck. And for some reason—whether it be patience, pity, or an odd blend of both—everyone respected his wishes. 

The house Eddie lived in now had been abandoned by a doomsday prepper. A surprisingly decent amount of supplies were left stored away in the basement. Chief Hopper had helped him move in a year ago after he returned from the Upside Down as a changed man. The chief had even found a reliable contact at the Hawkins Blood Bank for the sake of Eddie’s needs. 

As tempting as the urges sometimes were, feeding on live prey wasn’t sustainable. Drinking from blood bags was just as suitable. 

Even when it comes to his friends, they make sure to look out for him as best they can. Offering their company, their support, their laughter. All things considered, he had the stability he needed to get back out in the world and chase after a semblance of normalcy. But he hadn’t, not fully. 

The amount of times he left the house, especially during the day, was far and few between. When he did, it was to go to Steve’s place, or Robin’s, or Dustin’s. 

Now he’d fallen into funk like none other, insisting that nobody bothered him at all. For the first time since turning into a vampire, the desire to start living again was stronger than ever, yet it terrified him to his core. The last thing he wanted to do was for his cursed hands to end up tarnishing whatever good managed to come his way. He wouldn’t be able to bear it, so he figured he’d save himself the disappointment by not trying at all. 

It was killing him. 

When he opens the door, you’re wide-eyed. Luna immediately strolls inside to circle in between his legs, proudly rubbing herself against them. As bad as he wants to scoop her up into his arms in relief, he keeps looking at you. 

“Eddie Munson?” you ask hesitantly.  

He swallows. “Yeah.”  

“I knew that was you back on Friday.” 

Your eyes flick down to Luna, who gratefully peers up. “She was out in the street trying to get help for you,” you say without a doubt. “Animals always know.” There’s a brief flicker of emotion in Eddie’s eyes. 

“I’d been trying to catch her that night.” He sounds ashamed, like he knows you’re right, “She’s never run away before.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of you. 

“There’s someone coming for a welfare check,” you tell him. “The Chief of Police, I think. An officer stopped and told me.” 

Eddie pales—if that’s even possible. A humorless laugh rises in his throat. “I’m sorry for getting you dragged into this mess—” 

“I wasn’t dragged into anything,” you counter softly, searching his eyes. “It’s called life. Things happen, you meet people, time keeps passing by. 

“Everything happens for a reason.” You offer a small, encouraging smile.

He feels a flutter in his gut that he hasn’t felt in a long time. You’re awfully pretty, and kind, and smell way too divine. 

It’s too far away for you to hear, but in the distance, there’s a rumbling engine and the sound of tires turning onto the dirt road. 

•••

Vampires were supposed to be bound to legends and myths. Not real, and certainly not in Hawkins in the form of a boy whose company you could easily learn to enjoy. Both Eddie and Chief Hopper stare at you, eagerly awaiting your response to the story they just told. It’d practically been an entire oral history of Hawkins’ woes, not solely about Eddie, but about Eleven, demogorgons, the Mind Flayer, and Venca—all underscored by a depraved dimension called the Upside Down. 

All three of you are seated in the charming living room, the sun beginning to set outside. 

“Look,” Hopper says, running a thick hand down his face. “I know this is a lot. I wouldn’t blame you if you ran off and told the whole town.” As he shifts, the buttons over his stomach strain. “But before you do, just take a second and—” 

“I won’t tell,” you promise. “I always knew this town was different. I could feel it,” you admit. “For the first time in my life, I don’t feel crazy anymore.” 

That resonates with Eddie. It was a strange, unforgiving town indeed. 

“But I think you guys already knew that,” you say. “That’s why you even bothered to trust me.” 

Hopper glances at Eddie as if to say I like this one, she’s solid. Eddie likes you too.

The boy straightens up. “And about Robin, Steve, and everybody else… I know they lied to you, but it’s only because I asked them to keep me a secret,” he says. “If you’re upset about that, you have the right to take it out on me.” 

“Not while I’m here,” Hopper quips, pushing himself up from the couch. “If she does a number on you, I refuse to be a witness.” He’s joking, and you’re grateful for the levity that works its way back into the room. 

Eddie purses his lips in amusement, peeking over at you. You smile back.  

“And for the love of God, can you get something in your system? You look like you’re withering away,” Hopper grouses. “I’m gonna swing back around tomorrow, and all those blood bags better be gone.” 

You’re unable to stop yourself from snorting at what your life has suddenly become. If the sparkle in his eyes is any indicator, Eddie didn’t seem to mind your amusement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. 

•••

Gravel crackles beneath a set of tires as a vehicle rolls up out back. You’re too far away to hear, but as Eddie hops out of his van, he can make out chatter and drums emitting from inside. The external lights of The Hideout are blown out, so it’s pitch dark as Eddie rounds to the passenger side to get his acoustic guitar and sling it over his shoulder.

Soon, his hand is meeting the cool handle of the back door, which doesn't budge when he tugs. Two years ago, it would’ve. He was still learning how much time had altered in its wake. So He begins knocking instead. 

Entering through the front would be simple enough, but he wasn’t quite ready for everyone’s eyes to fall on him at once. 

Inside, Samuel, a man with a pirate hook in place of his missing hand, uses the metal prosthetic to push his empty glass closer to you for a refill. Eddie’s unheard knocking persists as you whistle for Alex to fulfill the man’s request in your place. 

“Gotta run to the bathroom,” you say. 

When you make it to the back hallway, the knocking finally registers. Two girls with matching mullets come stumbling out the bathroom hand-in-hand, forcing you to press closer to the wall as you head to answer the door. A voice emerges from the other side as you do. 

“Hello? I’m here to—”

It’s Eddie, blending in with the darkness of the night except for his guitar and milky skin. Although, there’s a bit more life to his complexion now. His curls tumble down onto his shoulders, denser and more defined as if he’d washed his hair recently. He’s no longer wearing baggy clothes, so you can see the true broadness of his shoulders. The undeniable tone of his slim frame. 

Under the weight of your observant gaze, he clears his throat, eyes flicking to the ground. “Sorry. It’s been a while,” he says. “I don’t know what the protocol is for performers anymore.”  

With everything you’ve learned over the past few weeks, you weren’t expecting him here. You’d hung out with him several times since learning he was a vampire, but it was either at his house or somebody else's. Never out and about, and certainly not around other people. 

His shoulders relax when you smile and open the door wider for him to come inside. He smells good as he brushes past you with tentative steps. 

“The green room is still where you remember it,” you call, trailing after him as he heads that way. 

It’s more of a supply room now. There are napkins, utensils, cleaning solutions, the whole lot. A few aux cords and other random pieces of sound equipment remain from back in the day. 

Eddie pads over to a small shelf, filled with old inspection documents and financial forms, and carefully scoots the stack to the right. Curiosity gets the better of you as you go to look over his shoulder. 

He can hear your breaths even though they aren’t loud. The gentle, steady beating of your heart. He can’t pretend it isn’t what he came for. 

Written in permanent marker against the wood of the shelf is a messy cluster of Corroded Coffin signatures dated with the year 1987. The year everything changed. Among the names, is his written in chunky capital letters, devil ears on either end. 

“I never knew that was there,” you say fondly.

He turns around to face you. “We thought we were so cool.” The memory makes him smile. 

A brief moment passes of taking each other in. You break the silence, “If you wanna perform, you can go out when the drums stop. Jim gets up there every evening and eventually wears himself out. I say he’s got another five minutes left in him.”

“Everyone’s got their process,” Eddie jokes. He’s rewarded with the sweet sound of your laugh. You pretend you wouldn’t rather stay hidden in this small, stuffy room and chat the remainder of your shift away. 

Jim stops playing as you predicted, but it isn’t until you’re back at the bar that Eddie emerges. You take the time to actually read what’s painted in white on the dark wood of his guitar: THIS MACHINE SLAYS Dragons. The room immediately goes quiet as he takes a seat on the edge of the stage, commanding it without doing anything at all. He even garners the attention of drunk eyes in their blurry haze. 

Without looking up from the fingerboard, he begins a connected series of languid strums, rings glinting in the low light. 

The melodic notes soon shape into a song. One that’s as somber as it is beautiful. It’s in no way akin to the punk and metal music that usually ricochets off the walls, but there’s no complaints. Everyone is transfixed by the way he simply watches his fingers as he plays. As if his heart isn’t bleeding out before their very eyes and reaching out to theirs. 

Once upon a time, he got a kick out of being rowdy and playing off the audience’s energy. But now, simply being seen and heard was enough. Especially after a period of wandering the dark. 

He’d told himself that this was the week he’d come out of hiding. That he was worth more than living in the shadows where he couldn’t make any mistakes. 

Scattered applause rises when he finishes. Samuel, abruptly slides from his barstool and slaps a few wrinkled dollar bills on the counter for you with his good hand. There’s a tug in your chest when you notice the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Who is that kid anyway?” he asks, swiping beneath them. 

You offer a small smile. “Eddie Munson.”

“I’d pay good money to hear his story,” he says, gathering his jacket from the back of the stool. “Tell your folks I say hello.” With that, he gets up and leaves, disappearing into the night.

Eddie stands from the stage as well. A few people file into his personal space to compliment and thank him for playing, but it doesn’t seem to phase him. He doesn’t flinch or cower away. The smile that eases across his face is so genuine that you can feel yourself being compelled into his orbit as well. 

You remain behind the bar, however. 

“Hey, lady, are you deaf or something?” A man taps his empty beer glass down on the bar in front of you, clearly intoxicated or at least halfway there. “Gimme another.” 

Alex is quick to pick up your slack, sliding up alongside you to give the guy a fresh glass. “Take a chill pill, man,” he says, fixing the guy with a firm look. 

“I’m Eric fucking Rutherford, and she’s on the clock.” He belches after taking a few big gulps. “She can visit la-la land on her own time. Shit, I’m going to go take a piss,” he grumbles. 

Eddie hears the whole exchange even though he wishes he hadn’t. He hears everything nowadays.

You shoot Alex a tired, apologetic smile. What you don’t see is Eddie placing his guitar on the stage and following Eric into the bathroom. 

Another perk of being undead is that nobody scares him anymore. 

“You can clock out early if you want,” Alex insists. “It’s only gonna get crazier.” 

The loud squeak of the hinges pierce through the air as Eddie slips through the bathroom door. Eric gives him a charged glance before unzipping his pants and taking care of his business. Eddie’s heavy boots clunk against the wet tile as he makes his way to the urinal right beside the man, staring down into the dingy ceramic.

“You a fairy or something? All this space and you wanna be right up under me.” Eddie can hear the man’s heartbeat speed up in his chest. Not from fear, fear sounded different. This was more like hopefulness.

Like a secret desire packed down so tight it was begging for a reason to be set free. Upon finishing, Eric zips his pants and gives Eddie another look, “Well, are you?”

Eddie’s jaw ticks as he shadows Eric to the sink. “What does matter to you?” He clocks the wedding band on the man’s ring finger. 

It’s hard to make out a reflection amid all the cracks and scribbled writing on the mirror, but Eric can see Eddie looming behind him like a stone wall. They lock eyes, and there’s something about Eddie’s gaze that makes it hard to look away. The man has no choice but to let down his facade. 

There was an inexplicable force willing him to do so. An inhuman compulsion. Eddie can’t bring himself to feel bad for leveraging an ability he seldom used. 

In a ruse of friendliness, he pulls out a couple sheets of paper towels and hands them to Eric. “Now you’re just stringing me along and playing hard to get,” the man accuses. “There’s a motel right across the street if you wanna drop the act.”

“No thanks,” Eddie says cooly. 

That startles a laugh out of him. “No thanks? Yeah, right—” 

Eric's face pales when dark veins begin to snake beneath Eddie’s eyes. 

Back in the main room, your head snaps up from wiping the bar when Eric bursts out of the bathroom, letting out a string of terrified expletives. He nearly trips over himself as he casts numerous glances over his shoulder, but nobody’s chasing after him. 

Multiple people call out to ask what’s wrong, but he chokes on his breath when he tries to speak. Seeing the intense flush of his face makes your heartbeat pound in your ears like Jim’s drumming. The tempo swells when he locks eyes with you. 

Eddie listens from the bathroom as he splashes his face with cold water. 

“I’m sorry, alright?” Eric forces out. “We’re cool now, okay? No more bad blood.”

You nod, frozen in place at the realization of the only person who could make him this afraid. With the acceptance of your apology, he darts out the front door on shaky legs. 

•••

Not even ten minutes later, you’re scolding Eddie after accepting his offer to drive you home. It’s an invitation you could’ve passed on, if you hadn’t long regretted your decision to bike to work. Eddie’s van smells earthen, with faint undertones of tobacco and the cinnamon car freshener hanging from their rearview. 

He can hear the waver of concern in your voice as you carry on. 

“And what if he tells?” you ask. “What if he recognized you?”  

“He didn’t recognize me. And he won’t tell,” Eddie says, a little too sure for your liking. 

“You don’t know that, Eddie. Jesus.” You slouch back into the passenger seat and go silent for the first time during the entire ride. Only then does guilt begin gnawing at you, relentless nips all over your body. 

Eddie was at least trying to get back out into the world, and here you were scolding him for standing up in your defense. 

You look over to his hands as he drives, the glint of his rings. Eddie has pretty, slender fingers. He can feel you staring, but doesn’t respond because he has no regrets. Not only have his senses been amplified since the Upside Down, but so has his willingness to defend. He’d spent so long running from everyone and everything, as if being a coward was woven into the inner fabric of his being. But not anymore. 

There was an unyielding sense of protectiveness you managed to stir within him. That’s how everything felt when it came to you. He has to fight to ignore how aware he is of you. Your aura, your scent, the way your blood smells sweeter now that it was just the two of you making passage through the night. 

He licks over his teeth and his tingling gums, ignoring the relentless pull of desire. 

Looking out the passenger side window as the town passes by only works for so long. “Hey, Eddie?” you murmur. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I just worry.” 

You shrink in on yourself when he looks over at you with more fondness than you deserve. “It’s alright,” he says.

A smile finally twitches at his lips when you hold out your pinky. He indulges you, hooking his larger one around yours. 

•••

It’s no surprise he receives an invitation inside your trailer once you’ve arrived. It feels weird being back in the small, othered community that raised him. There were a few occasions he’d come to visit Wayne at night when nobody could see. Other than that, it was the older man who came to him instead. 

The small space is cozy and lived-in. A courtesy of one of your aunt’s who’d fled Hawkins but was willing to rent the place out for cheap. Eddie’s enhanced scent allows him to perceive every note. It’s overwhelming in the best way. He could tune it all out if he wanted, but he’s greedy when it comes to you. 

You head to your bedroom as he takes off his boots by the door, bracing a hand on the wall. With owl-like eyes, watching the sway of your hips in your jeans as you disappear. Then he begins to look around in curiosity. There are numerous pictures of your friends and family. Shelves on the walls that hold different frames, trinkets, and figurines. The layout of the trailer is similar to his Uncle Wayne’s in that the living room and kitchen bleed into each other, but you’ve made a more functional utilization of the space. 

It soon registered that the shuffling sound coming from your room is you attempting to tidy up. A smile tugs at his lips. 

A small squeak escapes you as you turn around from closing a drawer of your dresser. Eddie is leaning in the doorway with an amused look on his face, and you can’t even conjure up an excuse for what you’re doing. 

“Can I come in?” he asks. 

“No,” you huff, a grin threatening to break through. 

A chuckle shakes his chest. “Please?” 

There’s a giddy flutter within you. “You’re banned for life.” 

“For life,” he repeats as he saunters in. “That’s not fair.” 

Your room reminds him of Robin’s, though it’s not as reflective of your more teenage interests. There’s more of a mature refinement that still brims with personality. 

Eddie walks over to your small, somewhat cluttered desk and picks up your journal as your back is turned away. 

When your eyes land on him again, he’s sitting on the foot of your bed, the book flipped open. His gaze is fixed on the first, where your name and the date you started writing in it are scrawled in your handwriting. He’d never be so bold in invading your privacy. He only picked it up to get a rise out of you. As expected, your heart sinks into your feet at the sight. 

“Eddie, no,” you whine, rushing over to swipe it away, completely unaware that you’ve crowded between his legs. He angles it out of your reach with a teasing grin on his face. “It’s not funny, I’m being serious.” Still, a helpless laugh bubbles out of you in betrayal. 

You reach for it again, but this time he falls onto his back, extending his arm above his head. 

Placing one knee on the bed between his spread legs, you lean forward, bracing with one hand as you reach for your journal with the other. Eddie’s breath catches when your chest brushes against his face, warmth flooding his cheeks and pleasantly melting lower and lower. 

In an effort to save himself from doing something stupid, he slips his free hand under your sweater to press his fingers into your skin like he’s playing the piano. A small squeak escapes you before you tumble into the sweetest laughter. 

You scoot further down his body to escape and, in your warm, giggly haze, capture his lips in a kiss that sends both of your heads soaring into the clouds.  

You tell yourself it’s only to get him to stop tickling you, but it’s more than that. It’s a bursting forth of every feeling that reawakened the moment you learned he was still alive. All the lost years come rushing back for their recompense in the intoxicating heat of your kiss. 

Eddie drops the journal in favor of settling both hands on your waist to steady you above him. Even then, he’s not sure how long he’ll be able to carry on like this. A familiar sensation starts up in his gums, and he makes a small sound in the back of his throat that sounds grieved. 

Almost immediately, you pull away, staring down at his spit slicked lips. “Are you okay?” you murmur, studying his face with concern.  

He nods in place of speaking, but when you lean back in to peck his lips, he makes that same sound again, pushing gently at your waist. 

“Hold on,” he breathes. 

Your brows furrow until you get the idea to raise his upper lip with a gentle thumb. For the first time, up close and personal, you see that his fangs have extended. Weakly, he fights against you to close his mouth, but you don’t move your finger. There’s a sense of wonder in your eyes as you study them, pearly and sharp. 

He feels exposed, like he’s an animal receiving an inspection. 

“Alright,” he halfheartedly urges, turning his head away to get you to stop. In doing so, the sharp end of his right fang ends up nicking your thumb. Wincing, you step back to your full height, allowing him to sit up. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Lemme see?” He raises your hand to assess the damage. It’s nothing major. A trickle of blood runs from the puncture. 

“I’m okay.” 

He doesn’t let go of your hand. Neither has he looked away from the blood. It’d be easy for him to slip your finger into his mouth and suck it off. But he doesn’t, unsure he’d be able to stop. 

That’s when a willing look sparks in your eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you assure, recalling how your own childhood consisted of quickly sucking away the blood from minor cuts and scrapes. It was nothing. You trust him. 

Eddie blinks, conflicted, then presses his lips to the pad of your thumb as if he’s offering a kiss. You feel the wet warmth of his tongue as he pokes it out. Your blood is too good. If he never drank it again, this would be more than enough. All he needed was one taste when it came to you.   

•••

𝙵𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟶

Leaving Hawkins

Come Again Soon 

Passing the sign had almost felt wrong, but the breeze flowing in from the cracked windows didn’t. Neither did the gentle weight of Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh. Even now, as you and Eddie wander your way around a carnival two towns over, the words lingered around the edges of your mind. For a fleeting second, you allow yourself to imagine that the two of you were bound to never return.  

Golden hour paints everything in an ethereal glow. The air smells like pumpkin spice, cider, and straw. Lights from various attractions twinkle and flash like small colorful stars. Laughter and thrilled screams seem to have permanent residency in the air. So much life pulsed all around. More than Hawkins would likely ever see again for a long time. Eddie looks over at you when you squeeze his hand. 

“Doing alright?” you ask quietly. 

He nods. “You?” 

You nod. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you to go in a photo booth with me.” 

A surprised laugh slips past Eddie’s lips. “What do you mean courage?”

“Last time we went in one together, you said never again,” you mock the sound of his voice, recalling the flustered look on his face. It’d been your fault, your hands had wandered, drawing eyes when you exited the booth. 

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind,” he says. 

Upon crawling into the next available booth, it’s a tight fit. Your thighs press together, but you can’t bring yourself to mind. Sometimes you couldn’t get close enough. The black curtains hanging on either side surprisingly manage to block out a decent amount of light. With a giddy smile on your face, you cling to Eddie’s free arm as he pays and presses the buttons necessary to advance past the main menu. When it comes time to take your series of photos, a brief sense of panic washes over you.

“Wait, we never planned out our poses.” 

Eddie chuckles as he drapes an arm over your shoulders and kisses your temple. “We can wing it. We’re good at that.”

Turns out he’s right. You can’t stop gushing at the strip of black-and-white pictures once you’re back on the outside. Out of the four, your favorite one is where you’re both smiling into the camera with your head resting on his shoulder. It strikes you then, how fortunate you are to be able to spend moments like this with him. If you could comb through entire dictionaries, ‘easy’ was still the word you’d settle on when it came to Eddie. It was easy to exist alongside him. He was kind in a way you’d never experienced in a relationship. And funny in a quiet sort of way you wouldn’t necessarily expect at first glance.  

“Prettiest girl in the world,” Eddie compliments as you start walking again. “Got me wrapped around your finger.” 

Instead of responding, you hook your arm around his and tuck yourself closer. A brief silence stretches between you, but the sounds of the fairgrounds continue all around like magic. You’ll remember this evening forever. 

“Thank you,” Eddie eventually says, tone thick with sincerity. You don’t ask what he’s referring to because you know it’s not one singular thing.

Even during that melancholic night when you almost hit him with your car, he knew there was something about you he wouldn’t be able to shake for a long time. Had he not seen you again, he still would’ve remembered your face, the sound of your voice, how evident it was that you cared, even in your tiredness. But then Luna led you back to him, and you brought him back to life. You showed him that there was so much worth living for, that it was okay to mess up sometimes. There was nothing to gain when you never took a chance. 

Eventually, you find yourselves in line for the ferris wheel. By the time you reach front, the sun has surrendered its golden glow to a calmer pink hue settling closer to the horizon. The lights from all the rides look particularly nice twinkling in the budding twilight. 

The cart rocks gently as you and Eddie board with care. Once you’re settled and the wheel continues its revolution, everything below no longer seems as grand. The game stands, food booths, kiddie roller coasters, countless fairgoers walking around. There’s a flutter in your gut from the new height, and you welcome it. 

When Eddie interlocks his fingers with yours, you look down at your joint hands, a smile creeping onto your face. Before you know it, you’ve reached the top. You almost expect it to keep going, but it eases to a complete stop, your cart swaying softly with the sudden stillness. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says. You meet his gaze. His eyes are dark like they always are, seemingly looking straight into your soul. 

Rather than continuing whatever he was going to say, he cups your face and presses his lips to yours. A pleasant warmth rushes down to your toes as if you weren’t already on top of the world. Eddie is a gentle kisser, always acutely aware of the thirst you stirred within him. One he’d never quite felt before, even when he wasn’t hungry. You’ve learned his cues, when to keep leaning in or pull away. Kissing him is exhilerating in that way. 

You’re too wrapped up in the softness of his lips to pay any mind to the teenagers on the cart behind you attempting to stifle their giggles. 

Nor do you mind the brief stinging sensation of your lower lip catching one of Eddie’s fangs. The indulgent lap of his tongue that occurs in time with the tangy, metallic taste that registers on your own. 

All around, the world carries on. Even lonesome Hawkins where it rests miles away. 

-

Thank you so much for reading! Any interaction is greatly appreciated, I promise I see it all.

Feel free to let me know what you think. (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

MORE

[mythicalmyles]

Hello hello! :D I love your fics sm <3 may I request something— like reader trying to escape, and getting chased in the woods, and Accidentally tripped and stuck in a tree 👉👈 andd you know what comes next *wink wonk* Thank youu💞

Since u didnt specify i chose toby i hope thats okay uvu i couldnt think on how to write a tree so i hope its okay that i did a window

Toby x Male!Bottom!Reader

(TW alcohol, noncon, exhibitionism, murder)

A giggle left your lips as alcohol sloshed inside of your glass, alcohol already clouding your mind. You and your friends had taken a trip to a small cabin that was deep in the woods, it had taken almost a day of driving sown and old dirt road in order to get to the building. It was dated but it did well for the seven of you so you couldn’t complain.

You shakily stood, making your way ti the kitchen while downing your drink. Suddenly there was banging against the cabin walls from the outside, you rolled your eyes assuming one of your friends was playing a prank. “(Name)! Not funny! Fucking stop.” You fumbled before defending yourself. “S’Not me!” As you spoke another four bangs hit the side of the cabin causing a couple of your friends to scream in fear.

You edged your way to the door, looking through to your friends. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. You and your friends exchanged glances, fear and worry filling your expressions. Two of the stronger men of the group warily made their way towards the door. “D-stop.” Cleo begged, her boyfriend ignored her and picked up a bat that he had left by the door earlier. He swung open the door, bat raised.

Before you could even draw a breath a hatchet was suddenly implanted into his head.

Fear coursed through your body, eyes widening as the assailant slashed through your other friend. You refused to believe what was happening, the scream of Cleo snapping you out of your trance. Before another thought could cross your mind you ran as quickly as you could. Running upstairs as quickly as you could, chest tightening as the screams of terror filled your hearing.

You could almost feel yourself beginning to sob as you quickly looked for a place to hide, the cabin was almost barren. Your eyes locked onto a window, you figured you’d take your chances leaping from it rather than deal with being gutted. You barely had time to process the fact your friends had just been butchered. You didn’t want to believe some maniac really had broken into the cabin.

The window was heavy as you tried to push it up, suddenly cursing your less than athletic abilities.

Suddenly you noticed everything had went completely quiet, you could almost hear the crickets from outside. The silence set you even more on edge, figuring this was your last chance. You shoved your palms up against the top of the window, cringing at the loud creek.

“Th-he-there you are!” The voice sent your mind spinning, it almost felt like a game. Despite your best efforts you couldn’t get the window up nearly as far as you wanted. The sound of footsteps rushing closer had your already hazy mind practically exploding. One last useless shove, you barely felt the window move an inch but you abandoned reason. You figured you could squeeze yourself through if you really tried.

Embarrassment flooded your system, no matter how hard you tried you couldnt get your hips through the gap. A hysterical sob left your lips and you banged your fists against the window frame before scrambling desperately to squeeze yourself through.

The sound of the door cracking off the wall left you frozen. “A-ain’t thi-th-this a pretty si-ight.” You could feel your own body begin to shake violently as you heard him approach you. His footsteps were loud against the floorboards, almost sounding like gunshots in your mind. “Please-please dont hu-hurt me.” You found yourself begging, despite knowing it was useless. A sudden loud crack left you gasping and flinching, whatever it was went ignored the second you felt hands wrapping around your hips.

He pressed himself flat against your ass, thumbs digging into your hips as he held you in place. “You b-be a good b-bo-oy and y-you won’t get h-hurt.” Fear kept you complaint, entire body shaking as the man who just slaughtered all of your friends rutted into your ass.

Despite your mind screaming at you to keep fighting you knew you were stuck, if you wanted out you’d need help. All you could do was grit your teeth and bare it as you felt his cold bandaged hands pull down your jeans, you fought against the embarrassment of him having your full ass in view. “I li-ike how hel-help-FUCK-helpless you loo-look.” Your face contorted into a scowl as you cussed him out, all he did was laugh and slap your ass. You yelped at the sudden smack, biting your lip when you felt his hand make another quick connection. “Bastard.” You choked out, tears ringing your eyes as your nails tore into the window ledge.

His hands gripped your hips while he used his thumb to drag over the red patch now forming across your ass, you didnt quite pick up what he mumbled and you almost fell out of the window once you heard him spit, his saliva running down your hole and balls.

All thoughts went out the window when he began pushing one of his fingers into you, a dark flush coated your neck and chest despite the uncomfortable feeling. Desperately you tried to think of anything else other than his finger currently working its way inside of you. “Ca-can think of be-bett-better thing ta do with you.” His voice was slurring, entranced watching as he slipped another finger into you. A dark smirk coating his face as he pulled out a whine from you.

Desperately you tried to think of anything other than his fingers slamming into a spot that made stars dance throughout your vision. You could feel you will wilt away as he pushed another into you, you choked trying to hold onto the little composure you had left, suddenly you felt his fingers slip out of you. His thumbs digging into your cheeks as he spread you apart and spat onto your hole again. You ignored the needy whine that escaped your clenched teeth. Toby chuckled behind you, sliding his head against your hole.

One last ditch attempt was made to free yourself, Toby again laughing at your feeble attempt. “Go-gonna ruin you.” Was all you heard before he began to push the head of his cock against you. “A-ah, no.” You weakly choked out before a cry was torn from your lips, Toby finally managed to slide into you. Your hand desperately began scrambling at the window ledge, trying to find something you could grab onto to anchor yourself.

He was a lot bigger than you had expected, leaving you almost sobbing when he’d finally buried himself into you. The feeling of his pelvis against your ass was enough to leave you delirious, drool dripped from your parted lips and fell to the forest floor below. You could barely grasp a thought, feeling overwhelmed and over stuffed. “Toby.” Was all he muttered before he pulled out, leaving his head inside of you. Despite knowing what was coming and bracing yourself nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of him slamming his cock straight into your prostate. You barley registered the fact it was you that was moaning like a whore, your mind felt blank as he slammed into you. “Suh-such a good h-hole for me.” Toby’s words went straight to your cock, it made you feel filthy.

Suddenly something down below caught your eyes, two masked men stared up at you. Pure shame flooded your system momentarily before Toby slammed into your prostate again. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t focus yourself, almost feeling drunk as you were fucked stupid. Part of you cursed yourself for trying to squeeze through a gap you knew you couldn’t, another sicker more twisted part of you loved the fact your life was in his hands.

Suddenly the pressure from your back was lifted, finally grabbing the opportunity to take in a deep breath. Suddenly Toby had pulled out of you leaving you whining before catching yourself. “Don-don’t worry. Yo-you’ll get my co-cock again.” He slammed you up against the cabin wall, dark brown eyes bore into yours. It almost felt like a spell had taken over you, his dark eyes pulling you in. He had a metal mask covering the lower part of his face, leaving you curious.

He didnt leave you much time to think when he yanked your leg up, pressing your thigh to your chest and leaving you gasping. He wasted no time sliding his cock back into you and fucking you against the wall. You felt your jaw go slack, the wall digging into your back and no doubt scratching it up. One of his hands crept up your jumper, a delighted smile coating Toby’s cheeks when he noticed you didn’t have a shirt on underneath. His hands immediately made their way to your nipples, tugging on the rosy buds leaving you gasping and twisting against him. “F-fuck it.” You looked at him with curiosity, he yanked off his mask and threw it to the side.

Part of you had hoped he was ugly, it’d somehow make things easier. Instead a handsome boy stared back at you, he didnt let you see him for long. His hands quickly made their way back to your nipples snd began toying with them, he had the overwhelming urge to mark you up. His mouth was hot against your neck, he began slowly but deeply fucking you. He left you shaking and whining for more.

He pulled away just enough to pull your other leg up, you figured he had to be strong but the fact he held you up like you were nothing left your mind reeling. “Be-beg for it.” You took a moment to take in his words, apparently taking to long as he wrapped his hand around your neck. Your thighs were almost painfully squeezing against your chest. “I sa-said beg for-for my cock.” You flushed with shame, you couldn’t deny you were desperate for some sort of release. You pushed away your shame. “Plea-please fuck me.” You whispered out, cheeks darkening. “What?” Toby had all the power and he knew it, rocking into you slowly and leaving your mind rolling. “Fuh-fuck me please! Want y-oyour cock.” You begged out, almost sobbing with the way he was teasing you.

You choked on your saliva when he finally began fucking you against the wall, the wall creaked as it took the burnt of the abuse from Toby. “Go-good boy.” Toby whispered into your ear, his hand never left your neck. He liked the look of panic that would cross your face when he choked you. It felt amazing being inside of you, the way you wrapped around his cock so sweetly drove him further into insanity. He knew they were suppose to kill everyone but he couldn’t help but wonder if slender would let him take home a new little stray, after all, you were all alone now.

The sound of skin slapping together along with your desperate moans was driving you insane, you had given up on holding back long ago but hearing your own voice bounce across the room while a murderer used you like a fleshlight. It didn’t take long before you began crying out Toby’s name like a mantra, voice raising in pitch as your climax hit. “Fuck. Ca-came on my co-cock.” Toby choked out, his own release nearing. His hands no double would leave bruises on the back of your thighs, he slammed into you with no care for your overstimulated cries. He loved the say you weakly begged him to stop, hand shoving at his shoulder to no avail. He definitely couldn’t let you go, its like you were made to take his cock. You let out a sob when Toby finally buried into you, shooting his load deep into you. You moaned weakly as he rode out his high, you fell into his hold completely.

Despite being soft he didn’t stop grinding into you, adoring the weak moans he tore from your lips. “You two done yet?” A sudden deep voice had you jolting up, looking over to the owner. “Gonna k-ke-keep this one.” Toby smirked as you buried your head into his jacket, desperate to hide yourself from the shame.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Canonical character death; Vomiting; Sexual themes.

A/N: It hasn’t taken me this long to write a chapter for this since I started it. And once again, I’m disappointed in the quality. I hope it’s received well enough. :/ And try not to maim me over the ending. I’m hoping it will inspire me to be a bit faster with updates. 😅

It had taken you a while to calm down. Hours later, you were under the sheets and lying with your back toward the door. People came and went, offering food and medication and water. You accepted all with silence, only for the sake of your baby. The little one needed the food and water and you needed the medication to help you keep it down. Carol informed you that she and Lori had taken care of Daryl. Had they murdered him? 

The sun had set and cloaked your room in shadow by the time you opened your eyes again. You didn't even remember falling asleep. What had woken you? Hands rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up. There was a curious light outside the window. It was as if you had been denied the audio from a feature film but suddenly pressed the button to unmute. 

Screams, gunfire, cars, motorcycle. What the hell is happening?! Your fingers brushed the top of your boots when the bedroom door swung open. Lori appeared wild, frightened to a degree you had never witnessed in her before.

“Carl!? Y/N, have you seen Carl?!” 

“No, I’m sorry. Lori, what—” But she was gone. Now the panic was setting in, your chest tightening for the second time that day. Where was Daryl? What was going on? 

“Patricia! Beth! Y/N! We have to go!” Carol’s voice was an unfamiliar tone, the quiet woman infused with a tension and fear in the call of each name. You stepped into your boots and jogged down the stairs just as Patricia and Beth stepped out onto the porch. Carol was reaching for you before you even noticed her. 

“What’s happening?!” You were breathless with worry and confusion.  

“The farm isn’t safe. We have to go!” The woman urged, her hand wrapping around your wrist. Beth was crying, Lori was panicked. The sight that greeted you was overwhelming. Walkers everywhere. The barn burning. Gunshots from cars circling the herd. 

“Carol.” You whimpered. You had no weapon, watching Lori bolt with a bag. “Do we have any guns?” 

“No time to find one! Go!” 

The four of you sprinted off the porch, the herd closing in, forcing you in different directions. You weren’t sure how you ended up so far into the field, running blindly in the dark, the only light coming from the unsteady flames devouring the barn. You didn’t stop running, the dead closing in from all sides. 

You nearly stumbled into the desperate clutches of a woman, teeth snapping at you before she could get a good hold. You pushed her, stumbling backward into the chest of a man, his rotting mouth snapped by your head, nearly taking your ear. You couldn’t help but scream. You’d never make it to the forest. There, you could easily utilize the safety nature provided. However, the amount of dead that blocked your path made it impossible. 

With the fence at your back, the road just beyond it, you glanced over your shoulder. You could hop the structure easily but more dead waited on the other side. Your mind was still scrambling for a resolution when you heard the familiar rumble and crunch of gravel beneath rubber. 

Daryl was there, calling your name. You cleared the fence and ran to him, legs burning and breaths unreliable. 

“C’mon! I ain’t got all day!” He was standing over the front edge of the seat so you could easily mount the bike behind him. Once both of you were seated, you wrapped your arms around his middle and buried your face into his back. 

“Go! Go!” Your shout was muffled against the leather vest but he heard you and soon you were moving, the wind carrying the smell of blood and smoke. You burrowed further against him, taking in his scent instead. Leather and pine, his natural musk, a hint of tobacco. You focused on it while he dodged walkers, the snarling growls and moans too close as you felt him slow and start to weave. 

“Not so tight.” His warm hand patted yours and disappeared just as quickly. 

“Daryl.” You whimpered. You pulled your hands back to rest on his sides, lightly curling your fingers into his vest. Any noise aside from the motorcycle began to fade as the wind picked up. You were going faster. Still, you didn’t let go, didn’t look up. You’d barely made it out. If Daryl hadn’t been there—

He was slowing again, to a crawl and eventually, a stop. When he cut the engine and began to move away, you could feel him taking your breath along behind him. You were clumsy bringing your leg over the seat, nearly toppling face first onto the gravel road. 

“Why—Daryl, why are we stopping?! We can’t be here! It’s not safe, Daryl!” You knew you looked like a wild animal, eyes wide and frantic, your hands protectively curled around your middle. “Daryl—Daryl, we—”

“Easy.” How long had he been standing that close? Your gaze focused on him, but you still couldn’t seem to catch your breath. 

Red. 

“Daddy!”

“I love you, Peanut.”

“Hey, we’re good.” His palms were warm against your face, blue eyes swimming with concern. He was trying to bring you out of the darkness you had wandered into, scared and vulnerable. “Gotta breathe, Y/N. C’mon, girl.” You hadn’t realized your own hands were grasping at his shoulders until he was releasing your face to gently pry them off. “Doin’ better. Can’t stay here long but ya can’t ride like this.” He lowered your hands to your lap and placed his palm back against your cheek. 

You ducked your head and swallowed back the bile inching up your throat, realization striking you like a freight train. “Oh god, I left the meds! All of Hershel’s supplies! Daryl, the baby—”

“Ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to either’a ya. Ya hear me?” The conviction in those eyes, the determination. He meant it. You hiccupped and nodded, the deep breath you finally willed yourself to take stuttering. “Are ya hurt? Bit?” You shook your head with more enthusiasm than necessary. “Need to getcha somewhere safe, try an’ find the others.”

He was still standing close to you and watched as you wiped your face, looking away when you tried to meet his eyes. You allowed your arms to fall back toward your lap, your right one hitting his foreman on the way down. His palm was on your belly. You hadn’t noticed he’d placed it there when he had moved your hands. Bringing attention to it was likely to embarrass or upset him. A repeat of the events from earlier was not something you could handle. 

“What if we’re the only ones?” You asked when his hand moved to run through his hair. He jutted his chin forward, wordlessly requesting you move so he could again straddle the bike. There was no hesitation, he stood with his boots on the ground to let you seat yourself behind him. 

“We ain’t.” 

“But if we are?” 

He didn’t look at you, but was still for a moment. You watched his fingers flex around the handlebars. 

“Then s’just the three’a us.”

You were careful to not squeeze too tightly this time when you wrapped your arms around his stomach. 

You gave a weak smile to Carl as you climbed off the bike. To your absolute shock, after the embrace with his mother and father, he hurried over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Hey, kid. Glad you’re okay.” You plucked his hat off, ruffled his hair, and sat the giant thing back down. He beamed up at you and then continued on his journey of relieved greetings. You spotted Daryl watching you and shrugged. Sometimes you thought Carl didn’t even realize you were around. There were few words spoken between you and the kid, even though you did talk quite a bit with Lori. 

You’d slept so much the day before but you found yourself exhausted, feeling slightly nauseous. You’d told Daryl about the medication. Had he mentioned it during the discussion of where to go next? Leaning against the bike, you watched him rationalize with the others on a plan.  

He seemed calmer around everyone, not so eager to gain distance. He glanced back at you now and again, looking away when he realized you were still watching him. You couldn’t seem to find it within you to be embarrassed. Maybe you could blame exhaustion or pregnancy. 

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You stood up straight only to find everyone looking at you now. Did Daryl just smirk at you? “Sorry, what’s going on?”

“We just wanted to get your opinion.” Carol smiled, small and tired, but knowing. Everyone probably saw you gawking at your baby daddy. 

“Whatever Daryl says is fine by me.” The implications of your statement were lost on you until the second the last syllable crossed over your lips. Even the archer had the decency to look surprised. Now you were embarrassed. An oil stain on the pavement became ever so interesting when you needed to look away. Your gaze remained there for the rest of the conversation. 

Daryl offered to find Andrea but was quickly shot down by Rick, saving you the trouble. Once T-Dog suggested east, Daryl agreed that main roads should be avoided. He walked by you to grab the crossbow from the back of the bike and quickly took down a walker before strapping the weapon back in place. 

“Watch out.” The hunter carefully nudged you aside and climbed onto the bike. 

“Want me to ride with some of them?” You pulled your flannel tighter and hugged yourself against the chill. You were definitely not dressed for the weather. 

“Nah, you’re with me.” He replied from around his thumbnail. He was eyeing your attire, knowing for certain you weren’t dressed for how cold the nights would get. You knew it too. He said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you or the baby. That meant finding medication and clothing. “Don’t care what we’re doin’ or where we are, if we’re both there, you’re with me ‘less I say otherwise. Understood?”

“Okay.” You acquiesced with a nod and climbed on, grateful for the natural heat of the archer’s body. You would have sighed if it wouldn’t just raise other questions. When the bike began moving, you continued to keep your hold loose but buried your face again, not only shielding your skin from the cold air but also effectively hiding the small smile you wore. 

Daryl pulled the bike off at Rick’s signal, asking if he was out of gas. Your hold on him remained until he patted your interlocked fingers and waved for you to climb off. You tried to keep your teeth from chattering while everyone talked—argued, really—about staying or going. 

Rick had killed Shane. The deputy hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details but your lack of interest regarding the man’s death told you exactly where you stood. You were never a fan.

“Look, I don’t care who goes today or tomorrow, but m’goin’ cause Y/N needs that medicine.” 

“I can go with you.” You offered, following Daryl toward the selected camp area. When he stopped, you nearly collided with his back. He turned without looking at you, not at first. When he did, his expression was stern. The hand he brought up to grasp your chin was quite the opposite. 

“Remember what I said? You’re with me ‘less I say otherwise.” You nodded. “This one’s otherwise. Need ya to stay here tomorrow. You’re gonna be sick by then, I reckon. Distracted. Need ya safe.”

You kept your gaze locked with his. “Okay.” You conceded easily, almost smiling at the naked relief in his eyes. “Would—would you get me a jacket? Maybe some—some maternity clothes?”

The archer scrunched his nose, releasing his hold on you. “Tell Maggie ‘bout the clothes. I’ll find ya the meds an’ a jacket.” He turned away, but you called his name before he could make it far. You weren’t sure he’d accept the contact after yesterday’s fiasco, but you placed your arms around his neck, your face tucked against his shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He hummed and nodded in response, quick to end the embrace and disappear past the treeline. He was likely gathering firewood. He wouldn’t be hunting. He was too adamant about you staying with him to go far. 

The archer was shaken by the events of the previous night, whether or not he cared to admit it. Maybe not the walkers or the loss of the farm; maybe not even the deaths. He was worried for you and his baby. It shone clear in the way he looked at you, the way he wanted to keep you close. The unwanted but familiar insecurities came creeping in, compounding on top of your already unsettled stomach. Was he just looking out for the baby?

“Maggie?” Your voice came out quiet and unsteady but you still managed to snag her attention. “Daryl said you’re going tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She stepped away from Glenn with a lingering touch on his arm, making sure he knew she was still there. “Don’t worry. I know what medications you need and we’ll find them. We’ll find something.”

You nodded without meeting her eyes. “Thank you but he told me to ask you about clothes. These,” you pulled at your t-shirt beneath the flannel, “won’t be warm enough. And I’ll get—bigger.” You made an awkward gesture around your abdomen with both hands. 

“You’re glowing, you know.” The look on your face must have been reason enough for her to giggle and place a hand on your bicep, squeezing ever so gently. “Pregnancy suits you. Don’t worry. I’ll find you some clothes. Shoes too, cause your feet are gonna swell. You’ll thank me later.”

“My feet?” You squeaked, looking down at your boots. “Thumper, be nice to mommy’s feet. I need those.”

You weren’t feeling well at all by the time the sun began to dip below the horizon. The night air was cold, even with your proximity to the fire Daryl continued to feed. Your stomach was a rolling mess of knots. You managed some water but even that threatened to make a reappearance. 

Daryl hadn’t hunted. He wouldn’t leave you behind, especially when you started feeling unwell. The group had not been happy, offering to sit with you and to not let you out of their sight. It wasn’t good enough for him. He knew anything he managed to bring back would be of no benefit to you. 

When you tried to send him off, he pinned you with the same look he’d given you at the farm before he had turned away and yelled for you to leave. You raised your hands in defeat and walked away.  

Now, a few hours later, you were glad he hadn’t left. Even with all the people around you, there was a suffocating tension around that campsite. Had you been left under their guard, you likely would have ended up in the middle of the venomous arguments and snarky jabs. You just didn’t have the energy. 

You were a silent spectator during Daryl’s conversation with Carol, his defense of Rick. The man in question came around the wall that sheltered the group, tense words once again shared. You couldn’t take part, couldn’t even begin to grasp what was being shared, crawling to a spot at the perimeter to empty the liquid contents of your stomach. The heaving was painful and left you gasping and spitting with a hand clutching the shirt over your belly, as if protecting the life inside you from your own body’s revolt. 

“Y’alright?” Daryl drawled from somewhere beside you. You nodded slowly, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. The added stress seemed to have taken its toll. You somehow made it upright to your knees, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. One look at the archer’s face made it evident that he wasn’t buying it. “Let’s getcha settled for the night.” It wasn’t a question in need of answering. It wasn’t even a suggestion. 

“I’m not sure I can walk that far.” The longing for the warmth of the fire was substantial but not enough for you to even try to send the signals for your legs to cooperate. 

“Didn’t ask ya to.” Had you felt a little more human, you might have wallowed in the indignation of him gathering you up to relieve you of the bothersome, albeit short, walk to the fireside. You were deposited slightly closer than when you’d taken a seat on your own. The warmth was intense and welcome but still not enough to battle the cold that had taken root within your bones. 

“Thanks.” You muttered through a deep sigh. The group was now sitting in relative silence, all but Carl still awake. Your own eyes were heavy within moments. You chose to submit to it and laid over on your side. The ground was freezing but what could you do? It hardly mattered anyway, as your eyes closed and you drifted off almost immediately. 

You awoke with a deep breath that morphed into a yawn. It appeared everyone was asleep with the exception of Glenn and Maggie up on the wall. It was pleasantly warm, just the slightest bit of cold seeping in here and there. Maybe you could just coax your mind back into slumber. Stretching a leg to seek out a more comfortable position, you realized something was keeping you from moving. 

“Be still, woman. Jesus.” 

You froze, briefly holding your breath. Daryl was lying beside you with his back pressed against yours, acting as your own personal space heater. There was a part of you—a rather large part that you’d like to punch in the throat—that wanted to roll over and curl into the man. He was warm. You already knew he ran hot, you’d been pressed against him in more pleasurable ways than this. 

Violently beating down the urge to spoon with the archer, you cleared your throat, knowing your voice would be rough from sleep and vomiting. “Thank you.”

“Ain’t nothin’. You were cold, saw ya shiverin’.” He shifted slightly. “Gotta take watch soon. Ya gonna be alright?” 

You nodded with a quiet mhm already missing his warmth though he had yet to move. You would be fine, of course. Nauseous with a headache the size of Montana but not dying. That qualified as alright, right? 

You let your eyes close, too exhausted to sleep any longer but the feeling of warmth and safety was enough for you to at least relax. All too soon, the cold air struck against your back, coaxing a quiet whine from your throat. Rolling to your back, your bottom lip jutted out into the most exaggerated pout you could possibly achieve. 

Daryl looked down as he strapped his crossbow onto his back. He snorted. Mission accomplished. 

Almost. 

“Can I go with you?” You sat up, scratching your lower belly. Damn, it had itched lately. Maybe you should ask for some lotion too. You could see the exact moment when automatic refusal died on his lips, his eyes flitting down to where your fingers grazed lightly over your abdomen. 

“Well, c’mon then.” Daryl needlessly adjusted the strap of the weapon, running his thumb over his bottom lip while he waited. The beaming smile you gave him spread across your face before you even gave it permission. You didn’t even ask before grabbing his arm to pull yourself up. He huffed but you caught the one corner of his mouth lifting before he looked away. 

“Lead the way, my good man.” You waved your arm forward and stepped aside so you could fall in behind him. He was shaking his head with a huff of air through his nose that really could have been a laugh. 

“Your good man, huh?”

You stumbled within the first three steps, his words catching you off guard. His large hand easily caught your upper arm, keeping you on your feet. You scowled in the face of his smirk. “I never liked you.” You jested with a light punch to his shoulder. 

Smirk still in place, he nodded toward your belly. “Ya liked me well ‘nough at one point.” You had no comeback, your mouth opening and closing like a fish. He gently squeezed your arm before letting go, walking away like he hadn’t just taken the upper hand and used it to drop the mic. 

Face scrunched, you fought back a smile before the battle was no longer necessary. Your eyes traveled from his shoulders, down his back, lingering on his ass before continuing the journey to his boots and back up again. Images of your first few encounters slammed into the forefront of your mind. You gasped quietly, the memories so vivid that you could almost feel him deep inside of you. Remembering how he grunted and panted, his large hands exploring every inch of you. 

“Gonna check the perimeter. You two good for now?” Daryl called up to the couple on the wall, snapping you out of your reverie. You paused behind him while the exchange took place, rubbing your thighs together to at least try and stifle the throbbing ache in your core. 

What the fuck,Y/N?! Get a grip! You followed on autopilot when he set off again, your mind racing. You were suddenly hot, nearly sweating; your mouth went dry. That damned throb at the apex of your thighs just would not relent. How could you go from sick and sleepy to depraved and horny? Oh, yeah. Pregnancy. 

“Stop lollygaggin’ an’ keep up.” Daryl snapped, thankfully not looking back at you. You could feel your skin heating, knew he’d find it flushed. A sense of shame attempted to overwhelm your sudden desire. You were ogling the archer like a piece of meat dangled over a lions’ den. “What’re ya starin’ at?” He asked absentmindedly, removing his crossbow to carry it at his side. 

“Nothing.” You replied a little too quickly, your voice low and breathy. That got his attention. He came to an abrupt halt and turned to eye you suspiciously. 

“Ya okay?”

You took a step back in tandem with his step forward, nodding vigorously even as your chest heaved. His head was tilted, eyes narrowed, looking as if he was solving a particularly complicated mathematical equation. 

“Ya sure?”

“Mhm!” Too enthusiastic, not very convincing. “I think,” you were nearly fucking panting as your back pressed against an inconveniently placed tree, “I’ll just head back.” You rolled against the bark to face the trail toward camp and your chest promptly collided with his arm when he blocked your exit. 

“Nuh-uh.” Daryl ducked his head, trying to catch your eye. “S’wrong with ya?” You didn’t answer; couldn’t really, what with trying to calm the lust flowing through your veins like molten lava. The taste of blood filled your mouth, the sting of your teeth piercing your lip was a welcome distraction. “Y/N.”

Stop talking. Stop looking at me. Where was this coming from? You had appreciated his handsome features and physical attributes plenty of times without the burning need to feel him pounding into you. Your eyes snapped toward him when the same hand that had met the tree to block you came to rest against your forehead. 

“You’re warm. Fever?”

“No.” Your voice trembled even more so than your body. You pushed his hand away as gently as you could manage, trying again to walk away. “I need to go back.” Fingers wrapped around your wrist. 

“Nah, not alone. I’ll ta—”

Your mouth was on his so fast that he staggered back. You heard his crossbow hit the ground, felt his muscles tense. He didn’t react for a moment that seemed to last forever but when he did, it wasn’t what you were hoping for, what your body was craving. You whined heatedly, attempting to pull him back to you by tugging his vest. 

“Th’fuck, woman?” Daryl didn’t sound angry. Far from it. He sounded confused. And unfortunately for you, the ache between your legs had chased away any semblance of dignity you might have once had. “You’re sick, exhausted. What the hell?”

“I need—” You whined, rubbing your thighs together while your hands pulled at his clothes. He wasn’t trying to stop you. He wasn’t doing much of anything actually. Just studying you with that stoic expression while you were about to all but beg him to fuck you senseless. “Daryl, I need—”

“Tell me whatcha need.” His tone was soft, like he was genuinely trying to understand.  

“You.” Your eyes were shining, wide and wet. “I don’t know—it just—I was fine and then—”

“S’hormones.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture delicate. You wanted to kiss him and slap him at the same time. 

“Damn you and your book.” You growled. You weren’t really sure what you were expected to do now, what you expected him to do. You were friends. It wasn’t like he’d just acquiesce and fuck you sideways. When he walked away, you thought you might curl up on the ground and cry. Since when did desire become borderline painful?

A deep breath did little to aid you. Maybe you could slink off into a corner at camp and take care of things yourself. It would be awkward and you could get cau—

“C’mere.” 

You blinked at him while still trying to get your breaths under control. His crossbow was leaning against a different tree now. He was standing in front of it, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip again. You approached hesitantly, hands wringing the front of your shirt. 

“Daryl?”

Once you were within reach, he grabbed the edge of your flannel and pulled you forward, spinning you just before your body met his. Your back against his chest, you could feel him breathing on your neck, a fresh wave of arousal seeping from your core. You were sure your pajama pants were soaked at this point. 

“Daryl, are you—”

He shushed you against your ear, allowing the lightest brush of his skin over yours. “See that?” He wrapped one strong arm around you with his palm resting on your belly, the other hand lifting to point low to the ground behind where you had previously stood. “Perimeter line. Cans an’ shit to make noise.” His stubbled cheek rubbed against your neck. “One behind us too. Anythin’ or anyone comes through, we’ll hear ‘em.”

“Okay?” You shivered when you heard him inhale against your hair, taking in your scent. You nearly came from the thought of him enjoying the way you smelled. Then again, even with your sensitive senses, you found his scent calming. 

The hand over your stomach pressed just the slightest bit harder while his other hand slid up your side to cover your breast. The ache when he squeezed brought a moan out of you so quickly that he flinched behind you before chuckling. No longer wearing a bra until you could one that fit, he could feel your nipple harden, immediately shifting his hand so he could pinch the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Ya sure s’me ya want takin’ care’a this for ya?” On the surface, he seemed ready and confident, already having knowledge of your body. His voice though, it was the most fragile, tiniest uncertainty filtering through. 

“Please.” You whined, feeling the evidence of his desire now pressing against your ass. 

“Say it then.” Daryl nipped at your pulse and soothed the skin with his lips and tongue. “Tell me ya want me.” 

You wanted him to keep talking, whispering against your skin in that gravelly rasp that was making your pussy clench and ache. Then again, you wanted him to shut the fuck up and get on with it already before you spontaneously combusted. 

“I want you. I need you, please.” Your body was so alive with need that you’d beg on your hands and knees if he asked. You groaned when he chuckled again, this time right against your ear. It wasn’t very long ago that you were shivering in front of a fire. Now you shivered while your skin burned for a completely different reason. Funny how that worked. 

“S’bout damn time.”

[ihavethedreamies]

First Kisses | NCT Dream

NCT Dream - All Members

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: About 300 for each, so about 2k total

Pairing: NCT Dream x GN!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Drabble, Fluff

Summary: Your first kiss with each member of NCT Dream!

Author's Note: I have never wrote drabble-length things before, so I am proud of myself I kept these so short.

I tried to keep these gender-neutral, so let me know if I didn't, but it might still be slightly implied in these the reader is AFAB, I don't think so though…

PS. Mark's and Haechan's are different from the ones for 127…

Revised (1/30/25)

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Mark

"You like someone?!" Mark's voice is way too loud, so you shush him harshly, pressing on his shoulder to get him to sit back down. Luckily, the fast-food joint has very few people in it, but it just makes his shout all the more obvious. "Shush!" You sigh, resting your forehead in your hand. "Yes." "Who?" He doesn't sound curious, but it's hard to pinpoint his tone. "Why do you care?" It's him, but you can't just announce it right then. He’s ruined the mood, plus it's not the place for a confession. "Is it Jeno?" "No." "Jaemin?" "No." "Donghyuck?!" He sounds mad and you look around, shushing him again. "No! It's not any of our friends." You hope that your vague answer is enough. "Who is it? What if he doesn't deserve you?!" "It's you, dumbass!" You hoped to be sweeter about the confession, but your voice is laced with irritation. His upset facial expression falls, red slowly deepening on his face and the tips of his ears. Rubbing your temple, you nod apologetically to the older couple nearest your table. "It's me?" "Yes." You brush it off, continuing a normal conversation, changing the subject. He’s only kind of listening; you can see his brain going into overdrive. He finally mentions it again as you leave the place. You’re walking down the street, past an empty playground. His hand grabs yours, spinning you to him. Mark's lips press to yours, soft at first, then he deepens it with a groan. When he pulls back, he smirks then as the tables have turned, your face red. "I like you too."

Renjun

He shoves past people, nearly knocking someone over as he fights through the crowd. He wishes he wasn’t so damn short, weaving through people looking for you. The crowd forms around the bus, the big vehicle lying on its side, windows cracked and broken. The utility truck that smashed into it had then hit a pole, smoke rising out of the front. That’s the bus you’re normally on; he knows it because he’d been waiting for you to get off. The bus was so close to the stop down the road that he saw the accident, then ran to the scene. "Watch it!" Someone snaps as he shoves again, still looking for you. "Renjun?" His heart leaps when he hears you, turning around quickly to see you standing on the edge of the crowd. Your phone is in your hand, and you’re taking one of your ear buds out. "(Y/N)!" He surges forward, shoving one more person so hard they stumble, and before you can ask anything else, his arms are around you. You let out a soft, 'oof', your ear bud falling from your hand onto the pavement, luckily you hold your phone firm. Renjun is breathing harshly, his cheek pressed to the side of your head, and you feel a tear that falls from his eye. "What happened?" You ask, looking at the bus crash. You were going to get on it like usual, but the bus was full, so you decided to walk instead. Renjun pulls back, his hands cupping your cheeks, turning your head to look over you. "Are you okay?" He’s still breathing hard. "Yes? I walked…" You glance back at the accident, but his hands still on your face keep you from looking too well. Renjun sighs hard, and turns you back to look at him, capturing your next words with his lips. You squeak in surprise, then melt into the kiss. It’s desperate, not soft, and quick like you think your first would be. When he finally pulls away, he pulls you back into a hug. Your mind reels from the whirlwind of events, but you hug him back, standing in his embrace so he can revel in the fact you aren't hurt.

Jeno

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jeno notices your stare. You blink to snap yourself out of it, your eyes flitting away from his lips to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" you hum coyly, taking a sip of your drink. He scoffs playfully. "You've been ogling me more than usual today." He smirks and you glare insincerely. "I have no idea what you’re going on about." You brush it off and you two continue your meal. Dates between you two are not all that much different than when you two would hang out as friends, but there’s a lot more flirting going on, of course. Casually drinking your iced coffee, you look out the window, pretending to people watch. You’re able to see his reflection in the glass. Jeno huffs amused, but lets it go. As you’re walking down the street, not heading anywhere in particular, his fingers link around yours and you try to keep your face neutral at the little act. When you two are walking past a park, he halts, his hand in yours pulling you to stop as well. Turning to look at him in question, you watch carefully as your eyes flit over his face, lingering on his lips before going to his own. "You really want to kiss me that badly?" He smirks and your face turns red so fast he thinks steam will come off of it. Are you that obvious? "W-what do you…" You swallow and he steps forward, so he is much closer. Glancing around, there is no one in sight, so he leans in, his lips pressing to the corner of your mouth. What a tease he is. You grunt, annoyed, and before he can fully laugh, your arms are around his neck. Jeno allows you to haul him down to your level, your lips sealing over his tightly. Since you’re in public, he pulls back before the kiss can deepen further, his tongue brushing your lower lip still. "Good?" He smirks. "Yes~"

Haechan

When you walk into the living room, you had not expected your roommate to be home, let alone spread like a starfish in the middle of the room. "Hyuck?" You question him and he gives an acknowledging grunt. "What are you doing?" "Contemplating life. Having an existential crisis." His tone is uncharacteristically flat, but it’s clear he’s being overdramatic. "Why?" You stop next to him, and his gaze meets yours, looking up at you like a kicked puppy. "You're going to the beach without me…" He pouts and you roll your eyes. "Hyuck, it’s a family trip. Only family and significant others are going, not friends…" "I'm just a friend?!" He sits up quickly as you leave his side, going to the kitchen. You wonder if he gets a head rush. "You're my roommate, which is friend category." You jump when you turn around, he’s right there. "Freaking- what?!" You furrow your brow along with him. "Can't I be a significant other?" His question further throws you off and you just gape. "W-what?" "Take me as your boyfriend!" "But you're not my boyfriend!" "I am now!" He declares, his hand going to the back of your head, yanking you closer, kissing you to prevent any retort. After getting over the initial shock, you melt into the kiss, and follow after when he pulls back. "Yeah?" His stupid smirk makes you want to smack him. "Fine…come as my boyfriend."

Jaemin

"Guess what?" His tone makes you roll your eyes. He drops his bag on the couch next to you and sneer up at him. "What?" You grimace when he flops down between you and his bag, sitting back confidently, ankle resting on his opposite knee. "I found out that someone likes me." "A lot of people like you, Jaemin. You have a mirror." You huff, going back to your show, but he takes the remote and pauses it again. "I know who." "Yeah?" Your heart skips, nervous he’s figured you out. Hopefully, it’s someone else, literally anyone else. Jaemin leans it, his stupid smirk has evolved into the incredibly sexy one he knows just how to use. "It's you, (Y/N)." He chuckles and you try to keep your face flat, but he sees your skin tinting pink, almost reddening. "W-who told you that?" "You did." "WHAT?!" You wonder what the hell he’s talking about. You haven't been drunk lately… "You read my letter to my mom!?" "I mean… It was just on the table…" "Ass-munch!" You lunge at him, tackling him back on the couch, landing on top of him. You grab the collar of his hoodie, hauling him up to glare at him. Instead of playing along with your fake aggression, he tilts his head, licking your lips. You drop him, he bounces on the cushions, then he grabs your waist, rolling forward so you’re under him. His lips stop your protest, and you immediately melt, letting him kiss you. Jaemin pulls back, still with that stupid smirk. "You dick." You sneer, pulling him back down.

Chenle

After another extremely dramatic sigh from Chenle next to you, you stop typing on your laptop, looking at him. "What now?" "I'm bored." He mumbles and you roll your eyes. "Lele, we are going to be on this plane for another eight and a half hours, figure something out." You go back to typing and he groans again. Luckily, he’s filthy rich and so you both get to fly in the lap of luxury of first class. For the next fifteen minutes, you half-heartedly listen to him complain about this and that, before he stops talking abruptly. Casting him a side glance to see what might have piqued his interest, he digs into his backpack, pulling a red box out. Pepero sticks. "What?" You have a feeling where he’s going with it, your face a bit warm. He says nothing, for once, and tears the box open, pulling a chocolate covered biscuit stick out. He places one end in his mouth, leaning closer, his implication clear. You huff, closing your laptop, relenting. Maybe for once you can call his bluff… Sealing your lips around the other end, you both begin to chew on it, lips getting closer and closer to each other. He still remains strong, so when there’s barely any left between you, you seal the deal. Your lips hit his, the rest of the candy entering your mouth. Though, when you go to pull back, he grunts, hand flying to the back of your head, bringing you back to him, kissing you harder. When he lets you go, he laughs at your red face. You curse him out under your breath, and he laughs harder.

Jisung

You’re starting to ramble, panicking at his reaction. When you let it slip out of your mouth, you hadn't even registered that you confessed. The tone was casual, so much so he almost didn't catch your meaning. You told him that when a classmate asked you for his contact, you told her no. You added that you two are more than friends to get her off the topic. This, however, is NOT true. When he asked why you did that, your reply was simple, "Cause you're mine-" He halted his stride and that made you stop too. That's when you started spewing out words, face hot, stomach flipping. So focused on finding the right explanation, you don't notice Jisung move closer. By the time your eyes meet, his big hands cradle your jaw, and his lips softly meet yours. He swallows your gasp, pressing closer, his nerves quickly fading. Once you’re over the initial shock, you kiss back, your own hands gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt over his ribs. Finally pulling away from each other, you both smile bashfully, but don't step away. Jisung even still has his hands on your jaw, thumb stroking the soft, flushed skin of your cheek. "If I'm yours, does that mean you're mine too?" His shyness grows back at his own words. You blink, then giggle, fingers messing with his hoodie zipper. "I'm yours, Jisung." Your smile grows when he leans back in, lips ghosting over yours when he replies. "Let's be each other's then."

-> NCT 127 <-

-> WayV <-

Master-Master List

NCT Master List

[brainrotbee]

Paynleand Promptfest Day 5: Flowers

~

"Just once, I would like to have a case where no one is trying to harm us," Edwin huffed as he ran down the winding country road.

"Where's the fun in that?" Charles replied, equally out of breath. He glanced behind him and his eyes widened. "Duck!" He nearly pushed Edwin to the ground in order to protect him from the arrow that whizzed above his head a moment later.

"Nice reflexes," he panted, pushing himself off the gravel. "I knew Viking spirits are usually violent but this seems unnatural." He looked behind him at the small cottage they'd mirror traveled to only five minutes earlier. Blokes with long beards and different cool-looking but deadly weapons were clambering their way out of the windows and the front door. "There seems to be something else at play here."

"Are they corrupted?" Charles asked. He paused to elbow a man who had caught up to them in the face. His helmet clanged as he fell to the ground.

"No. Their forms look far too solid."

"Territorial then?"

"That is what confuses me," Edwin said. The Vikings gang was getting closer. A spear flew over the boys' heads and landed in a field to their left. Whoever threw it gave a roar of anger. "The cottage was empty until we arrived and then they all appeared out of nowhere." He frowned in thought, though his stride never broke. "This case is quite baffling."

"Right," Charles said over someone screaming in Norse. "Let's worry about that once we get to safety."

"That sounds like-"

Edwin was cut off by a flash of red hair and the biggest battle axe Charles had ever seen. Its wielder sliced in between the two boys, nearly taking off Charles's arm. His face was slack and his eyes were glowing blue. They would definitely have to figure that out once they were done running for their afterlives.

Charles ducked as the Viking swung at him again. It was terrifying to fight a ghost five times his size but he had no other choice; he needed to protect Edwin. After a few more ducks and dodges, Charles managed to land pretty good punch. Unfortunately, it didn't phase the Viking one bit. Just as Charles was getting ready to accept his fate, black cords began wrapping themselves around the Viking's body and he fell to the ground, red-faced and cursing.

"Thanks, mate," Charles said, catching his breath. "New spell?"

"It's a variation of my normal binding one," Edwin explained, stepping over the Viking. "But I do not want to see how long it lasts."

"I'm with you there."

They took off running once again. Ghosts didn't seem like they should get tired but that wasn't the case at all. Charles felt like his legs had turned to jelly by the time he finally spotted a decent hiding place. He grabbed Edwin's hand and the two of them dove into a ditch, near the end of the road.

Charles leaned back on the grass. They hadn't had a case go that badly since Port Townsend. He scanned their surroundings to make sure that they were hidden well enough for the Vikings to pass right by them. Luckily, the wildflowers and grass was tall enough to cover them, as long as you weren't looking too hard. Flowers?

Charles reached out and plucked a cornflower out of the ground. There was something he'd supposed to remember about flowers, and Friday. Wasn't Friday a special day? Flowers, special day, Edwin...

"Oh," he said aloud. He pulled out another cornflower and handed it to Edwin. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Edwin stared at him in disbelief before taking the them. He shook his head a soft laugh escaped his lips. "Thank you." He tucked one into his breast pocket. "I hope you'll forgive me for not having a gift for you. It seems I am a bit occupied at the moment."

Charles grinned and they stood together. "How about once we sort out this mess, you and me go on a proper date, yeah?"

"I would love nothing more."

They shared one last smile before standing up to face the Viking horde.

[apocalypseornaw]

Two New Winchesters

Dean Winchester x reader

With Chuck gone a new surprise happens

Warnings: some cursing, fluff lots of fluff

You stared at yourself in the small mirror over the sink as you waited for the timer you'd sat on your phone to go off. You could hear Sam walk by the bathroom and knew it you took too long Dean would come looking for you, he was excited about the pie festival you loved seeing the smile on his face but the mention of pie had turned your stomach. That wasn't like you, you weren't as fond of the dessert as your boyfriend but the thought of it had never made you sick before.

After you'd thrown up a time or you'd sat in the cool floor of the bathroom and suddenly the date seemed to pop out at you when you checked your phone to see what time it was. You were late, like a few weeks late. With everything that had happened with Chuck the thought of your missing period must have slipped your mind. You felt your stomach flip again as you pushed yourself to your feet and opened the bathroom door.

Dean of course was sitting in the hallway just outside and smiled when you came out "You ok sweetheart?" You nodded slowly "Yeah, I don't know what that was. I'm going to run into town and pick up some meds just in case I'm trying to get that stomach bug Alex said was going around. Can you finish packing for me?" His green eyes were full of worry as he said "If you're not feeling up to it we don't have to go, the whole point was getting time off to spend with you and Sammy"

You smiled and kissed him softly, grateful that you had brushed your teeth twice after getting sick "I'm ok Dean. I want to go, I just want to make sure I don't puke in baby. She'd never forgive me" He smiled at that "Sure you don't want me to go with you?" You shook your head "Yeah because then we can leave as soon as I get back and clean up for the ride"

He didn't look too convinced but kissed you again and said "Ok. I'll finish packing for you but call me when you leave the pharmacy so I know you're ok" "I promise"

The timer going off nearly made you jump out of your skin. You could hear Sam talking to someone and felt your heart drop Dean called your name right before you glanced down to two pink lines looking back at you.

Your mind was in overdrive as you stared out the window. Sam had offered the front seat but you took the back saying you wanted to have the option to stretch your legs or lay down should you need it. You knew Dean was worried about you and you were trying your best to plaster a smile on every time he looked your way but you had no clue how he would react to this news. Yeah with Chuck gone all of you had discussed moving away from hunting so much but moving away from hunting and starting a family was two different things.

What if he didn't want the baby? You had always been so careful but with everything that had happened you'd missed a pill or two. You laid your head back against the seat willing sleep to come but it never did. When Dean parked the impala and looked across the backseat you smiled at him "Promise not to make yourself sick?" You asked with a laugh and he winked at you "I promise"

What started as peaceful road trip to a pie festival now had you, Dean and Sam stalking a nest of mask wearing, kidnapping vamps.

You took the machete from Dean and glanced towards the barn one of the vamps had pointed you to. "You good sweetheart?" He asked and you half smiled "of course. Let's go get those kids back"

---------

You sliced the head off one vamp then looked up in just enough time to see Dean get shoved back towards a piece of rebar and felt your knees go out from under you. You didn't realize he missed it or that he'd killed the vamp that shoved him, your entire world had went black at the thought of Dean being killed.

Dean's voice was frantic when he called your name after seeing that you were on your knees, fear of something happening to you pushing any other thought out of his head.

"SAM!" He hollered as he ran to your side, Sam not far behind him. When he made it to your side you flinched hard then threw yourself into his arms,sobbing "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He had no clue what had happened. Your hands moved across his back as if looking for a wound "The rebar. I thought..." you trailed off and then he understood, from your vantage point it looked like he'd been stabbed.

"Cmon sweetheart, you really think something like that is gonna take me away from you after this long?" He spoke softly, trying to lighten your mood but the look in your eyes made his stomach drop. Something was wrong, you were shaking in his arms "Y/N, what's wrong?"

You looked at him then over at Sam before sniffling "I'm pregnant and I thought I lost you without you ever even knowing" you buried your face into his chest as you cried.

He was stunned for a moment, you were pregnant. That was why you'd gotten sick, why you'd been quiet on the car ride. You were carrying his baby, you were gonna be parents.

You glanced up at Dean after a moment passed filled with silence "Are you mad?" He looked down at you and it was clear your question had offended him "Why would I be mad? Not like I wasn't there helping to make the baby. I love you and we were already talking retirement, what better reason?" A grin split his face before he nudged Sam with his foot "Hear that Sammy? You're gonna be an uncle!"

Sam laughed lightly and you could hear the relief in his voice "Y/N I love you like a sister and I will love my niece or nephew, I just hope they act more like you" Dean scoffed and Sam added "I'm gonna go find the boys and give you two a minute"

Once Sam walked out Dean pulled you into a kiss before saying "I'm sorry I scared you" you laughed with a few unshed tears still in your eyes "Sorry I scared you"

You could hear Dean groan as Miracle dug his way between the two of you on the bed. Since your stomach had started growing nearly daily Dean's dog had quickly become your dog, you couldn't go to the bathroom without your furry shadow sitting just outside. The only problem was at times he didn't even want Dean touching you.

"Hey fur face, my girl and my baby. Scoot" you laughed hearing him argue with the dog. "Oh you think it's funny huh?" Dean asked once miracle moved and he could curl up to your back, one hand coming to rest on your stomach "I really do" you teased and he moved to rest his head on your side so he could talk to your stomach "You hear that? Your mama thinks it's funny that I get kicked out the bed for the dog!" As if in response the baby kicked his hand and you had to stifle a laugh when he cut his eyes up at you "She's already taking your side!"

You raised an eyebrow "Maybe she needs a name and she'll stop be argumentative" he nodded "What was the final contenders again?" You reached for the nightstand so he helped you sit up then moved so you could lean against him as you read the names "Ember, River, Quinn and Trinity"

"What's your favorite?" He asked and you shrugged so he nodded, taking the list from you he moved down the bed until the was laying between your knees, facing your stomach "Ok little miss Winchester listen up. We got some names here kid and you're gonna help pick one" you laughed when she squirmed again at the sound of his voice.

He grinned at you "Ok we got Ember" she didn't kick. "Howabout River?" No movement. "Quinn?" He asked and for once she didn't move at the sound of her daddy's voice which was unusual. Dean nodded as if he was mid conversation with someone "Ok kid last option how about Trinity Winchester"

She kicked hard and you'd never seen Dean smile broader as he looked up at you "Trinity it is"

A few months later you were at Sioux Falls general in the maternity ward. Jack had managed to clear up the past to the point that Sam and Dean were no longer forced to use Campbell as a surname in public so Trinity would officially be born a Winchester.

You knew Alex had purposely asked for the day off so she could be with the rest of the girls. Her, Claire,Patience and Kaia had taken up an entire corner of the waiting room. Jody and Donna were in and out of your room while Sam paced the floor between the waiting room and your room and Eileen was helping Dean to help you.

---------

Labor had started around three in the morning when your water broke. It wasn't until around nine that Trinity decided she was ready to come out. After some tips from Jody on how to move to help labor around nine thirty you were laying in the bed with Dean sitting next to you and a tiny pink bundle wrapped up in his arms.

Everyone had left to give you three a few minutes while they made calls to Garth and the Banes twins and everyone else who was waiting "She's perfect" Dean whispered. She had your hair color but her daddy's green eyes. You looked up at him and saw tears in his eyes "Dean, are you ok?"

He nodded "Yeah, just Y/N... I promise I'm gonna be a good dad. No matter what" you felt yourself start to tear up at that. "Oh baby, I know you will. You raised Sam and you already love her. I know how your head works, you're not John and I'm damn sure not Mary. Trinity will be raised with two loving parents that would quite literally fight heaven or hell for her along with a gangle of insane aunts and uncles and a couple cousins not to mention the one over heaven is basically an uncle and her auntie Rowena is over hell. She's gonna be safe and she's gonna know her daddy loves her"

He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss to your lips "I love you" you smiled into the kiss "I love you too" about that time Trinity cooed so Dean laughed "And we both love you"

--------

You laughed when Kaia told Claire that Trinity wouldn't break if she wanted to hold her "She's right ya know. She's little but sturdy"

The room was full and people had called and video called all day to congratulate and see if anything was needed. Rowena had even sent a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a rather hefty gift card for baby supplies.

You noticed that Sam and Dean were standing to themselves in the corner talking but it's not like that was anything out of the normal. You didn't think anything of it until Dean cleared his throat "um considering ninety percent of the people me and Y/N call family are in this room, I want to do this now"

You cut your eyes at Sam who was making sure Eileen had read Dean's lips. He met your eyes at smiled slightly. Dean looked at Trinity before looking at you "Sweetheart, you've been at my side through so much. There were times you had every right to kick my ass or call is quits. I'm a pain in the ass and loving me isn't easy.." "Dean" you warned but Sam spoke up "He's getting to the point in his own way"

Dean nodded towards him before continuing "My point is I never thought about love like what we have and now that love has bought us a daughter and.." he half laughed "Well thanks to Jack, Trinity is legally a Winchester in every way so I think it's time I off the name to you too if you want it" "What?" You asked softly and he smiled before pulling a ring out of his pocket "Will you marry me?" You nodded quickly "Of course"

He slipped the ring on your finger before placing a kiss on your lips. "Hear that Trin? Your daddy finally proposed to your mommy!" Claire cooed at her making everyone laugh. Dean cut his eyes at her and she shrugged "Just saying, I would've put a ring on it years ago if I would've been you"

@123passwort

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Somewhere to Belong | 3/3 | S.R

Part three of my Family Challenge fic.

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N - I am almost positive this is not how the adoption system works but hey, it’s fanfiction, I make my own rules.

Summary - You reveal your master plan to Spencer and the two of you begin on your journey together. Will you be able to help Spencer bring Wren home where she belongs? And when the time comes, will you have what it takes to walk away?

Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU Fem! Reader

Warnings - confessed feelings, tears, mostly just domestic fluff, making out, allusions to sex but still SFW, crying child, swearing, happy ending.

WC - 9.4k

Part 3

The wheels of your plan had been slow turning, painfully so. You’d started to think you may never reach the end of this goddamn road. 

But finally after months, all the pieces had fallen into place. 

When you received the phone call you were already halfway out of the door before the person on the other end had even finished their sentence. It was the phone call you’d been waiting for, holding your breath every time the device rang. 

And now it had happened, it was time to go and see him. 

You drove out into the suburbs, a manilla folder full of paperwork in the passenger's seat. You parked next to the curb by the house with the canary yellow fence and green front door. 

Before you could exit the car you saw the door open and Spencer let someone out the house. The women had a briefcase and wore a smart pants suit. Definitely a social worker. 

You watched the woman head to her own car and once she was inside the vehicle and starting the engine you stepped out onto the street, bringing your folder with you.

As you headed for the yellow gate your phone buzzed in your pocket. Slowing your strides you retrieved it and read the text message on the screen. 

📱 Spencer Reid: I think it’s over. There’s another couple who have shown interest in adopting Wren and I don’t think I can compete with that. I’m ok, I’m not craving or anything. I just wanted you to know. 

You stuffed the device back in your pocket and looked up at the house, a single light coming from the downstairs window. 

Since you’d accompanied him to Beltway, the two of you had been in touch more regularly. Spencer texted you nearly every day and you spoke on the phone fairly often. 

You’d seen him a handful of times for coffee but you’d never been out to his home in Woodbridge. It was a really nice house, a family home just like the team had described to you. It was a complete one eighty from his old DC apartment. 

You unhooked the gate and slid past it, hugging the folder to your chest as you made your way along the front path and up the steps. 

Before you could talk yourself out of this, you knocked on the green front door. 

Soon you heard it being unlocked and then it tentatively opened. Spencer’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion when he saw you. 

“Y/N hi,” he opened the door slightly wider. “I just texted you.”

“I know, I was…in the neighbourhood?” You shrugged. “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded, stepping aside to allow you entrance to his home. 

You walked inside while he shut the door behind you and you glanced around the living room. 

You recognised his leather couch and armchair from his old apartment as well as his record player and chess set. The coffee table was the same but other than that this was not the home you pictured Spencer Reid living in. 

He waited for you to take it in and only spoke again once you looked back at him. 

“Can I get you a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m good.” You nodded, feeling oddly nervous. 

He motioned for the couch and the two of you crossed the room together and sat side by side. You laid the manilla folder in your lap and ran your fingers over it. 

“Whatcha you got there?” He asked, nodding at the file. 

“Uh, well you see…” you trailed off, unable to find the words to communicate what you wanted to say. “How about you have a look.” 

You handed him the file. For a moment he just stared at it with a frown before he cautiously took it from your hand. 

He opened it and started one by one going through the pieces of paper inside. 

The first was an application with a large red stamp proclaiming APPROVED in the bottom right corner. There were several sheaths that documented personal information about you, health checks, financial records, questions and answers relating to your childhood. 

There was a rental agreement renewal for the address in which you lived which had gone unsigned as though you were hesitant in continuing your lease. 

Multiple pages he’d seen before, floor plans of his own home, summaries of home visits at this address. 

One sheet was a letter signed off by BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss agreeing to a cut in field hours. Two more sighed letters followed, both dictating what an upstanding human being you were, one signed by SSA Luke Alvez and the other Doctor Tara Lewis. 

He read through them quickly as you knew he would but it still somehow felt like a lifetime before he was neatly tucking the pages away and closing the file. He looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed heavily. 

“I don’t…” he swallowed, his hands starting to shake. “I don’t understand.” 

“Yes, you do.” You nodded. “You’re a genius aren’t you?”

“I…is this a joke?” His eyes flooded with unshed tears as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“It would be a pretty cruel thing to joke about.” You shrugged.

Spencer rubbed his eyes, trying to push away his tears before they could fall. 

“Just to confirm,” he swallowed thickly, his eyebrows still knitted together in his confusion. “Because I don’t want to misunderstand what’s happening here…”

“Spencer,” you placed your hand on his knee and he noticed you were shaking too. “I would do anything for you. Anything. If this can help you bring that little girl home, then I’ll do it.” 

“You…you’ve gotten approval from the adoption agency.” He croaked. 

“Yes.”

“You’ve done the interviews, cut down your hours at the BAU, not renewed your lease and had Alvez and Lewis write you character references.” 

“Yes.” You nodded. “I still don’t think I’m ready for a family, Spencer. But I can sign on as Wren’s adoptive mother on paper, just so you can get her home. Once she’s home and the paperwork is finalised they can’t take her away from you. We can figure out all the rest once you’ve got her home, I can terminate my rights or whatever. But by then it won’t matter.” 

“W-why would you…” he trailed off again, swallowing. “Why would you do that for me? That’s…crazy. Why would you want to go through all this trouble just so I can have a better chance of adopting Wren?” 

You inhaled really deeply, your chest heaving as you did so. Spencer blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear the new batch of tears from his eyes. 

“I should have said it back.” You mumbled with a shake of your head. “Months ago, you told me you loved me and I should have said it back. But instead I walked away and let you believe I didn’t feel that way about you. But I do. Just because we aren’t together doesn’t make that any less true. And if I can help you bring Wren home I will. Because I love you.” 

The room fell silent while Spencer worked to comprehend everything that was happening. His head spun as though he was drunk, making it harder for him to understand all of this.

This couldn’t have been some idea you’d just come up with, weeks if not months of work had gone into this. You were willing, on paper at least, to be Wren’s adoptive mother when you weren’t ready to have kids. 

You’d told Emily, Luke and Tara at the minimum of your plans. You were willing to give up your apartment, cut back your hours at a job you adored to help him. Because you loved him. You loved him so much you were willing to put his happiness before your own. 

“It’s too much.” He shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do all of this.” 

“Good job you never once asked then.” You smiled at him. “It’s all temporary. Once Wren is home I can pick back up my regular case load, I spoke to my landlord about subletting my apartment for a few months so I can move back in once everything is settled.”

“You plan to live here?” He suddenly made the connection. 

“Well I’ve got to live somewhere. And you know, us living in the same house gives the impression of a happy couple who want to adopt a child, don’t you think? It won’t be forever.” 

“What am I supposed to say to my social worker? I forgot to tell her that I had a partner?” Of course he’d try and pick holes in this, it was what Spencer Reid did best. 

“We say we were together but I didn’t think I was ready for a family. But now I am. We tell them I met Wren and fell in love with her and now we want to adopt her together. It’s pretty much what I wrote in my application.” You’d considered every outcome, every bump in the road.

“But you haven’t met Wren.” He shook his head. 

“So I will.” You chuckled. “Spence, stop trying to put blockers in the way when there aren’t any. Let me do this for you, please? Let me help you bring your little girl home.” 

Spencer stared at you silently, blinking frantically as he tried to understand what was happening. He didn’t want to get his hopes up only to have them dashed again but you seemed sincere. 

He still didn’t understand how you would be willing to go to such lengths for him but he supposed it didn’t matter. What mattered was you were willing to and he could use all the help he could get. 

Suddenly he threw himself forward, arms flying up to wrap around you. He pulled you close, holding you tightly as he started to loudly sob.

“T-thank you.” He cried into your shoulder as you returned his hug.

“You’re welcome, Spence. You’re so very welcome.” 

You continued to hold him while he sobbed, stroking his back in an attempt to calm him. It was over a half hour later when he finally shed all of his tears, sniffed heavily and sat back to look at you. 

“You really are my most favourite person.” He smiled shakily at you. 

If you didn’t love him so much there was no way you would have even considered helping him adopt a child even if it was only on paper. 

But love makes us do crazy things. And this might just be the craziest.

***

Two days later you anxiously sat in the passenger's seat of Spencer’s Volvo while he drove the two of you to Wren’s halfway home. 

You played with your hands in your lap, barely speaking as you tried to comprehend meeting this little girl who had become Spencer’s whole world. 

You’d agreed to tell Wren you were Spencer’s friend it was the truth and much less complicated than explaining everything to her. You would test the waters with her first, see how she felt about it before broaching it with the social worker. 

Your legs wobbled a little as you got out of the car and Spencer was regarding you curiously. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, his fingers brushing across your knuckles. 

“Yeah.” You forced a smile. “She means so much to you, I’m just worried she won’t like me.” 

“She’s going to love you. Trust me.” 

The look he was giving you made your stomach coil into knots. Your knees buckled and your heart yearned for him. 

It was such a cruel world that you could be so in love with someone yet not be destined to each other. 

As you started towards the building he slipped his hand in yours and it was so easy to pretend this wasn’t all for show. 

He led you inside, saying his hellos to some of the people working in the halfway home, clearly he’d been here a lot. He carried on through to a larger room filled with kids of all ages, your heart bled for them all. 

As your eyes cast around the room, you were quickly snapped back around when you heard someone calling Spencer’s name. 

“Spencer! Spencer!” 

You looked back just in time to see a head of dark curls you remembered from when you’d seen her sleeping on Spencer’s lap at the BAU running right towards the two of you. 

He let go of your hand so he could outstretch his arms for the girl who happily fell into them. 

“Missed you.” She tucked herself in his arms. 

“I missed you too, pumpkin.” He sighed in content as he hugged her. 

You watched the way he seemed to light up the moment Wren was nearby, how all the weight he carried on his shoulders slipped away. As he cuddled the five year old, he seemed at peace. 

And you knew you were doing the right thing. 

Wren stepped back from his embrace and looked up at you, head tilted to the side in a curious fashion and little dark eyebrows furrowed. 

“Who are you?” She asked, pouting a little. 

“This is my friend, Y/N.” Spencer spoke for you. “Y/N, this is Wren.” 

“Why is she here?” Wren looked back at Spencer in concern. 

“I thought you’d like to meet her.” Spencer’s tone completely changed when he spoke to her, you’d never heard him like it before. 

It was soft and sweet, obviously it relaxed the young girl. Usually. But it was clear by the concerned expression in her face it wasn’t working today. 

“But I like spending time with you.” Her lip jutted out. 

“I’m still here aren’t I?” Spencer chuckled, tucking a rogue strand of her hair back off of her rosy face. 

“Hey Wren,” you crouched down so you were the same height as her, garnering her attention. “I heard you love Halloween?” 

She looked between Spencer who was still standing at his full height and back to you before looking back at him again. 

“It’s ok,” he encouraged her with a smile. 

She looked back at you once more, a hint of scepticism in her bright eyes. 

“Yes.” She nodded feverishly. 

“And you love books too, right?” 

“Yes.” She nodded again. 

“Well that’s perfect because I just so happen to have a book all about Halloween!” You grinned at her whilst reaching into your purse.

Spencer frowned a little, you hadn’t mentioned this on the drive over. He watched as you pulled a book out of your bag, a brightly coloured hardback depicting cartoon pictures of ghosts, witches and monsters getting ready for a spooky party. 

The title read The Night Before Halloween. 

Neither of you could tell what Wren was thinking, for a five year old she was amazing at masking her expression even though she probably didn’t realise she was doing it. 

She looked from the book to your eyes then to Spencer and around in the same loop a few times before settling on Spencer. 

“Do you want me to read it to you?” He asked her, trying to prompt her to speak. 

“No.” Wren shook her head and turned back to you.

You tried to hide your disappointment. This was your only play, your only way in with her and you’d blown it. 

But then the little girl smiled at you. 

“I want Y/N to read it to me.” She reached out her little hand for you and you pushed yourself back up to your full height and took it. 

She led you over to the couch with Spencer following close behind. You glanced at him over your shoulder and he was smiling at you as he mouthed the words, good job.

***

Two more visits with Wren and she had warmed up to you the same way he had with Spencer. By the third visit she even hugged you. 

And you saw exactly why Spencer loved her. 

By the time September rolled around you’d moved into Spencer’s suburban home - in the spare room - and had multiple visits with Jenny who struggled to grasp what was happening at first. 

Understandably she was sceptical about your sudden involvement but after more rigorous interviews she started to warm up the same way Wren had. 

As you weren’t travelling with the team so much anymore and mostly working cases out of Quantico, you and Spencer spent a lot of time together. 

He was always home before you, his classes at Marlborough never running past four pm. And as much as you hated to admit it, having someone to come home to everyday was delightful in its domesticity.

When you did travel with the team, usually around every one in four cases, Spencer would call you everyday and send you photographs of him and Wren when he visited her. 

Spencer was learning to cook for Wren so the poor girl didn’t have to live off of cereal, coffee and ice cream, or as you always referred to it: The Doctor Reid Diet. 

He tried out his new recipes on you and at least eighty percent of them were edible. 

You’d been allowed to take Wren out on more day trips, with Jenny in tow of course. The two of you took her to museums and book stores and ice cream parlours; to the park, once to a carnival and anywhere else her little imagination could think to go.

It was midway into October when you arrived back from a case in Florida in which you’d been gone for six days. You knew Spencer had waited up for you as he’d called you to tell you he would. 

When you let yourself in the green front door of the house that was feeling more like a home by the day, it wasn’t the messy haired genius who met you. 

What did meet you certainly had messy hair, but its dopey expression told you it was no genius. 

The creature trotted over to you, tongue hanging out of its slightly lopsided mouth and offered you a single bark whilst nuzzling against your shin. 

You stared at the scruffy dog using your leg as a scratching post with wide eyes. Somewhere in the house you heard footsteps and you glanced up to see Spencer appearing from the kitchen. 

“Hey, how was your day?” He smiled at you, completely ignoring the confusion on your face. 

“Uh, it was perfectly normal until I came home and was greeted by this.” You pointed down at the mutt who was staring expectantly at you. 

“He. Not this.” Spencer padded over and quickly scooped up the small, messy animal in his arms. “This is Rover.” 

Rover licked Spencer’s cheek and much to your confusion, the germaphobe didn’t even bat an eyelid. 

“Last I checked Rover was a stuffed animal. This creature seems to be very much alive.” 

“Wren decided she wanted a dog. I said we could go to the pound and look, just look. But, uh, she kinda fell in love with this little guy and I can’t say no to her.” He shrugged, scratching Rover behind his ear. 

“So you now have a dog.” You hung your bag up by the door.

“We have a dog.” 

“Oh no.” You shook your head, walking past him towards the kitchen. “I’m outta here once Wren’s home. The dog is your problem.” 

Spencer placed the creature, which you thought more resembled a gremlin than a dog, on the floor and followed you. 

“He’ll grow on you.” 

“He most certainly won’t. I’m a cat person. And last I checked you weren’t all that keen on dogs either.” 

“But Wren is. So I guess I’m a dog person now.” He leant against the counter in the kitchen while you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

You turned back to look at him as you uncapped it. You had a curious smile on your lips.

“What? What’s that look for?” He frowned a little.

“It’s just funny,” you took a sip. “Six months ago I would never have imagined either of us to be here.” 

“Me either.” He agreed with a smile. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy before.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.” He started towards you. “You’re a big part of that, you know? I know this is all for show and we’re just doing this until Wren is home, but, uh…I like having you here.” 

“It’s not all for show.” You placed the bottle on the counter behind you as you felt a little dizzy with the way Spencer was looking at you. 

“No?” He reached you, stopping a few feet in front of you. 

“I like being here too.” You confessed, your legs shaking a little due to the look he was currently giving you. 

“I’m glad.” He swallowed and your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple and the way it bobbed deliciously beneath his flesh. “I’m, uh, I’m on the verge of doing something very dumb.”

“How do you know it’s dumb until you do it?” You had a pretty good idea of what he was talking about. 

“Because I’m a genius and my brain is screaming how dumb it would be.” He chuckled, stepping even closer to you. 

“Maybe for once, don’t listen to your brain, Spence.” 

To encourage him, you reached for him, placing your hand on his shoulder. He swallowed again as he stepped nearer to you still. 

Cautiously he raised his own hands and placed them on the sides of your face, eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and your lips. 

“Don’t listen to my brain?” He whispered, wanting confirmation.

“Just this one time.” You offered him a smile and it was all he needed to close the space between you. 

When his lips gently brushed against your own, your hand quickly moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck to keep him close.

You parted your lips and he replied in kind by deepening the kiss. 

He pushed his body flush against you, pressing you into the counter. He held your face delicately but soon the kiss was growing frantic. 

It wasn’t at all long before he was manoeuvring you away from the counter and towards the kitchen door, never tearing his lips from yours. Not at least until his back collided with the door.

He broke the kiss and started to laugh, you did the same. He reached behind him and opened the door, taking your hand pulling you along with him.

The two of you were giggling like a couple of teenagers as you ascended the stairs, neither of you paying much mind to the dog asleep in his bed. 

He led you to his room and once inside he pushed you back against the wall and kissed you ardently again.  

He rolled his hips against yours so you could feel the bulge in his slacks and you moaned into his mouth. 

And then he was leading you to his bed as he helped you out of your clothes. 

It was only then as you lay beneath you realised how much you’d missed him. And you knew when or if the time came for Wren to come home and this little domestic bubble popped, it was going to be hard to drag yourself away. 

***

You fell asleep wrapped in Spencer’s arm after several hours and multiple orgasms. When you woke in the morning he was already awake, staring at you with a smile on his face. 

“Hey,” he stroked your messy hair behind your ear.

“Hey yourself.” You smiled back, inching closer and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Last night was…” he trailed off searching for the right word but finding none that did it justice. 

“Amazing?” You laughed lightly.

“That’s certainly one word for it.” He agreed, hand cupping your cheek. “So I don’t wanna be the kind of person that asks this but, uh…did that mean something? Was it just sex or did it mean something? Because I would…uh…I��d really like it to have meant something.” 

His nerves were tangled in his words and you could see in his eyes that he hated asking you this. You smiled and ran your fingertips lightly over his bicep. 

“Well I guess that…” you were stopped by the sound of Spencer’s phone ringing and he pulled a face of frustration. 

“Shoot,” he let go of your face. “To be continued?” 

You nodded and watched him roll over, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand and putting it to his ear while sitting up on the edge of the mattress. 

“Doctor Reid,” he spoke and then was silent for a moment or two and his back straightened. “Seriously? You…I…seriously? Uh, yeah of course. Today? Gosh…yes. Ok. Ok. Thank you. Goodbye.” 

His hand holding the phone fell to his lap limply but other than that he didn’t move. You rolled closer to him with a frown, wrapping an arm around his waist when you were close enough.

He slowly turned his head to look at you and you couldn’t read his expression.

“Spence?” You croaked. “Is everything ok?” 

He exhaled through parted lips, his eyes widening a little before he slowly started to nod. 

“Y-yeah,” his voice cracked. “Yeah everything’s great. That was Jenny. Apparently we’ve been approved for placement under supervision for Wren. It might not be permanent and Jenny will visit every week. But they wouldn’t let us bring her home if there wasn’t a strong possibility of us being able to adopt her. She’s coming home, Y/N. Our little girl is coming home.”

His tears overflowed when he reached the end of his speech and the smile that adorned his lips was brighter than the sun and all the stars in the sky combined. 

You jumped up and threw yourself into his lap, wrapping your arms tightly around him. 

“Oh gosh Spence, that’s great!” You felt your own tears well in your eyes as he held you. 

And for some reason when he called her our little girl, it didn’t freak you out in the slightest, 

***

Wren was an excitable blur of hand gestures and bounces in her seat as Spencer drove the three of you home later that afternoon. 

She’d only ever seen photographs of the room Spencer had put together for her and she was buzzing to see it with her own eyes. 

It was only once he got close to home driving through the neighbourhood she had lived with her parents whom she watched die, that she clammed up.

You sat in the back of the car with her and watched the way her eyes turned down at the corners as she looked out the window at the familiar houses. 

You reached out to her, held her hand.

“It’s ok if you miss them, Wren.” You whispered and her head whipped around to face you.

She was gnawing on her bottom lip, perhaps trying to stop from pouting. 

“But I don’t want to make you and Spencer sad.” She spoke in equally hushed tones. 

“Hey now silly girl,” Spencer’s right hand appeared between the front seats, blindly reaching for her knee. “You could never make us sad. You have no idea how happy you make us, pumpkin.” 

“But you will miss your mommy and daddy and we want you to be able to tell us when you do, ok?” You added, squeezing her hand. 

“O-ok.” She nodded, turning back out of the window. 

Soon enough Spencer pulled the car to a stop outside of the house with the canary yellow fence and green front door. 

He exited the car and rushed around to open Wren’s door while you unbuckled her seatbelt. He lifted her in his arms, spun her around twice, and planted her on her feet on the sidewalk. 

She instantly reached for you both, gripping Spencer’s hand in her left and yours in her right. 

You and Spencer shared a smile over her head as you led her up to the front door. 

The second the door was open a messy haired small mutt ran at full pelt towards the three of you, practically crashing straight into Wren. 

She giggled and threw her arms around the dog. 

“Rover!” She screeched, burying her face into his matted fur. 

Spencer took her bag from her and unzipped it, pulling out the toy Rover and holding him out towards the girl and her dog. 

“Rover meet Rover.” He spoke and Wren beamed brightly as she took the toy from him. 

She held it in front of the real dog's face and he licked the toy feverishly, making Wren giggle again. 

“I think they’re going to be friends!” She cheered happily. 

“That’s a relief.” Spencer chuckled, hand naturally slipping in yours. 

“Would the Rover’s like to see your new room, honey?” You asked Wren, entwining your fingers with Spencer’s.

“I think so!” She jumped up and down. “Come on big Rover, come on little Rover.”

You and Spencer shared another smile as you led the way, hand in hand, up the stairs and towards the room at the end of the hall. 

One of the Rover’s was held by Wren around his neck while the other followed of his own accord. You both stepped aside and motioned for Wren to open the door. 

She looked positively giddy with excitement as she reached for the handle. She pushed open the door and Spencer reached inside to flick the lights on. 

Her eyes widened as a dozen strings of pumpkin fairy lights cast their glow across the warm autumnal walls, thick cream carpet and everything in between. 

She took a few steps inside the room and the two of you watched her eyes flicker between the My Little Pony bed sheets, her name placard above the bed, the bookshelf stuffed full of books, another shelf packed with stuffed animals. 

They moved between the dog bed meant for little Rover which big Rover was now already making his way to, to the dresser under the window with a little mirror and her very own chess set. 

They made their way to the wardrobe which Spencer had stencilled with falling leaves and little brown birds of her namesake. 

Her eyes danced from here to there, there to here and back again. When they finally came to a stop on you and Spencer, they were full of tears. 

“This is…for me?” Her bottom lip pouted. 

“I don’t know any other little girls called Wren.” Spencer smiled at her. 

She suddenly dove at the two of you, one arm wrapping around each of you and nuzzling between you. You felt her small frame racking with sobs and it made your heart melt. 

“T-thank you.” She cried, squeezing you both as tightly as she could. “I love you.” 

You looked at Spencer, you both had tears welling in your own eyes. 

And god dammit if you didn’t love her too. 

***

The three of you ate ice cream for dinner on the floor of her bedroom at Wren’s insistence. 

You and Spencer played with her and her new collection of stuffed toys, as well as the real life Rover before you took turns reading to her until she finally fell asleep. 

Rover was already curled up in the dog bed at the foot of Wren’s bed so you left him there and the two of you quietly crept from the room. 

With the day's events you hadn’t had a chance to talk about what happened last night and now you were in the corridor, you weren’t sure what room to go to. 

Clearly Spencer didn’t either. 

He awkwardly scuffed the toe of his candy corn print sock on the carpet whilst rolling his lip between his teeth. 

“Should we, uh…talk?” He shrugged. 

“Most likely, yes.” You nodded and silently he led the two of you back downstairs to the living room. 

You were both quiet, not meeting the others' gaze as you sat in the armchair and him on the couch. The air was thick with tension, and you didn’t even know where to begin with this conversation.

“I know you don’t want to be Wren’s mom.” He suddenly blurted out. “And I’d never ask you to. But I love you and last night was…it was perfect. I don’t want to choose between having you and Wren in my life. I know it wouldn’t be easy because if everything goes to plan I will have a child at the end of it. You think there’s any chance you’d want to date a single dad?” 

He was talking so fast all of his words merged into one and it took you a few moments to ascertain what he was saying. But before you could really catch up, he was talking again.

“We get Wren home permanently, you can give up your rights just like you planned. You move out and you go back to your normal case load but maybe…maybe we can work things out? I know it won’t be easy but I don’t care. 

You clearly mean a lot to Wren and I know she would love it if you were still a part of her life after all this, even if it’s not as her adoptive mother. And I hope that you can still be part of my life. As my partner, my one true love. 

Wren will be my reasonability, I won’t expect anything from you in regards to her. But I don’t want to be without you, even if it means our life is separate from my life with Wren. I don’t think it’s entirely beyond the realms of possibility to think we could make it work. I just think-”

“Spencer,” you had to cut him off or he would spend the next hour rambling. “I don’t think it’s entirely beyond the realms of possibility either.” 

“You…you don’t?” He inhaled sharply.

“It’s not going to be easy,” you pushed yourself up and moved slowly closer to him. When you reached him you lowered yourself so you were sitting in his lap. “It’s going to be hard in fact, really hard. But dating a single dad doesn’t sound like the worst idea in the world. Especially when that single dad is you.” 

His hands glided across your back, settling on your shoulder blades and holding you firmly in place, 

“We’ll make it work.” He smiled at you, inching closer.

“We’ll make it work.” You repeated just as his lips pressed against yours. 

***

The day after Wren was placed with you and Spencer, he and the little girl started excitedly decorating the house for Halloween which was two weeks away. 

The house was a menagerie of fake cobwebs which you kept walking into, strings of little ghosts hanging in every doorway. A newly carved pumpkin appeared on the porch every single day you returned home from work. 

By the time Halloween rolled around the three of you had fallen into somewhat of a routine. 

You had tried to distance yourself from parental activities, as soon as the paperwork was finalised you would be moving out and you didn’t want Wren to get too used to you being around. 

The last thing you wanted to do was confuse a child who had already lost her biological parents. 

Spencer dropped her at school on the way to Marlborough everyday and picked her up on his way home. 

He cooked dinner which the two of them ate together and he saved leftovers for when you arrived home. 

Nine times out of ten Wren was already in bed by the time you got home from Quantico which helped. It also gave you alone time with Spencer. 

Usually you wouldn’t even be in the door more than ten minutes before he was leading you to the bedroom. You’d been sleeping in his room since Wren had come home, although there was usually little sleeping happening. 

You’d both quickly learnt how to be quiet, not wanting to further traumatise the girl by having her hear the two of you having sex. 

The routine seemed to work for the three of you, it allowed Spencer and Wren to grow closer whilst allowing you and Spencer to grow closer. 

On Halloween night you got out of work slightly earlier but still expected Spencer and Wren to be out trick or treating. 

He’d promised the little girl months ago to take her and she’d been so excited for tonight, talking about it non stop since she’d come home with you. 

He wanted to make her a costume and you tried to teach Spencer how to sew but when that didn’t work you showed him how YouTube worked so he could learn that way. 

He’d slaved over creating her a pumpkin costume which was a little lopsided and probably could have been neater but he was so proud of his creation. 

Wren had insisted he dress up too so you arrived home to find Dracula in your living room. 

“What happened to trick or treating?” You asked as you stepped in the door and hung your jacket up.

“Oh hey,” he smiled brightly as soon as he saw you, moving closer to you. He went to kiss you but then remembered the fake blood on his mouth and refrained. “We’re about to leave, Wren is just getting dressed.” 

“Did she love her costume?” 

“You have no idea. I’ve never heard a five year old scream before and I’m not sure it’s something I want to relive in a hurry.” He chuckled, straightening up his cape. “Now you’re home you can join us.”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. 

“Oh come on, she’d love it if you came.” Spencer gave you his puppy dog eyes which you tried to ignore. 

“You’re the parent.” You reminded him. “And besides, someone should stay home with Rover.”

“Rover is ten years old and sleeps all day.” Spencer rolled his eyes. “He’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know. I just-” 

You were cut off by the sound of Wren running down the stairs. When she appeared in her pumpkin costume, complete with orange painted face, she was smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/N!” She jumped up and down excitedly. “I’m a pumpkin!” 

“Oh wow, you look great!” You cheered. 

She beamed, happily showing off her costume like a proud parent. 

“Are you coming trick or treating with us?” She asked with expectant green eyes. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Please! You have to come!” She jiggled, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. 

“Yeah Y/N,” Spencer smirked at you. “You have to.” 

“I don’t have a costume.” You shrugged. 

“Leave that to me.” Spencer stepped closer to you and took hold of your hand. “Wren give us five minutes and we’ll head out, ok?” 

“Ok!” She nodded, moving aside so Spencer could lead you upstairs. 

You let him lead you to the bedroom, which he’d done countless times before but you knew this wasn’t for the reasons you would like. 

“I took the liberty of picking something up for you at the costume store when I was getting mine.” He let go of your hand so he could open the closet. 

“Of course you did.” You sighed. 

He pulled out an outfit in a costume bag and turned it to face you. Inside was sheathed all the makings of a witches costume. 

A long, flowy purple crushed velvet dress with long, billowy sleeves. A black wig. A pointy hat. 

You rolled your eyes as you took it from him, trying to ignore the stupid look on his face. 

“Fine, I will wear it. But you are not painting my face.” 

“Deal.” He grinned, in a smug way knowing he’d won.

***

Ten minutes later the three of you were out the door. Dracula, the witch and the pumpkin. 

Wren was full of excitement as she skipped on just ahead of you, swinging her little bucket she hoped to fill with candy. 

“She’s your problem when she won’t sleep tonight because she’s hopped up on sugar.” You spoke as Spencer slipped his hand in yours. 

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, eyes never leaving the back of the curly haired pumpkin. “Thank you for coming.”

“Did I have a choice?” You joked. 

Spencer briefly glanced at the side of your face before focusing back on Wren who was now making her way up a front porch of one of your neighbours houses. The two of you hung back by the gate. 

“You don’t like spending time with her.” He looked back at you while Wren was busy getting her candy. 

“That’s not true. I love spending time with her, she’s an amazing kid. But I don’t want her to get used to me being around all the time. She lost her mom and dad, I don’t want her to see me as a parental figure only to lose me too.” 

Spencer’s hand slipped from yours and he quickly pocketed both of his hands. You frowned at him as he turned away from you. 

“Right. Of course.” He watched Wren smile and thank Mrs Taylor for the candy. 

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” You glared at him.

“Nothing. I just forget sometimes what a hardship this is for you.” 

“Spencer, I never said-”

“What did you get, pumpkin?” He cut you off as Wren came running back over, his tone lightening as he regarded her. 

Wren showed off her haul and soon you were continuing on. Spencer walked with Wren now, holding her free hand while you hung back. 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that this would get complicated. But why did it? 

***

The night ended worse than it started. When your rounds of the neighbourhood took you past the old Briar house, the home where Wren watched her parents die, it came to an abrupt end with tears. 

Spencer carried her home while she sobbed in his arms. He put her to bed and spent a long time coddling her while she cried for her parents. 

He found you in the living room, your wig and hat on the coffee table. You stood from the couch when he entered the room. 

“I don’t really feel like company tonight so maybe you should just stay in the guest room.” His jaw was clenched tightly as he spoke. 

“Right, sure.” You nodded. 

He turned away from you, started towards the stairs before quickly turned back around.

“You know what actually, maybe you should look into moving back into your apartment. This place is kinda crowded. You only need to be here when Jenny visits anyway, there’s no point in you being here all the time. And that way Wren won’t get attached to you and it’ll make it easier all round.” He turned again but before he could get too far you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“Spencer, please don’t say that. We talked about this, we had a plan, we-”

“Stop it, please.” He cut you off. “I can’t do this right now, ok? I have a little girl upstairs who I had to rock to sleep because she couldn’t stop crying about her dead parents. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with all this right now.” 

“Fine.” You clenched your jaw to stop the tears falling. “But let me just say it isn’t fair for you to act this way when we had an agreement. You knew what my involvement was going to be in all of this and the plan was never for me to be her mother!” 

“The plan?” He suddenly spat. “The goddamn plan? You make it sound so clinical!”

“I thought it was.” You rolled your eyes. “Did you expect that I was going to wake up one day and change my mind? Was that what you hoped for here? That I’d play happy families and realise this is what I wanted?”

“Yes,” he shrugged. “Yes, that's exactly what I hoped would happen. Excuse me for believing that two people who are as in love as I thought we were could raise a child together.” 

“Maybe I should move out.” 

“Good.”

“Great.” 

“I’ll help you pack.” With that he turned again and this time you let him go. 

You watched as he ascended the staircase, clearly wanting to make more noise about it but not wanting to wake Wren. 

Once you heard his bedroom door shut you fell back to the couch and your tears unleashed. 

What had possessed you into thinking this would be a good idea? You’d wanted to help Spencer and never once stopped to think of the ramifications. 

Like it or not you and Wren had grown close, despite your best efforts. Your leaving would be hard on her. And it would be hard on you too.

You’d come to care for that little girl even though you’d tried so hard not to. You weren’t ready to be a mom, or so you thought, but Wren had wormed her way into your heart. 

And now you were going to lose her and Spencer through your own stubbornness. 

Well done, Y/N, you thought to yourself as you cried. You’ve really gone and fucked this up. 

***

The following day Spencer dropped Wren off at school, thankfully in a much brighter mood than she had been the previous night. 

You both had the day off work for Jenny’s weekly visit and if she noticed the awkwardness between the two of you she didn’t mention it. 

Spencer was amazing at keeping his emotions in check when he needed to and even you believed he was happy. 

You sat amicably and drank tea while Spencer filled the social worker in on your Halloween night, glossing over all the bad parts. 

It struck you that Jenny wasn’t taking notes like usual, didn’t even have her notebook out. You weren’t sure if Spencer noticed or not or if he was too busy pretending he had the perfect family to notice. 

When the tea dried up along with the conversation, Jenny pulled a manilla envelope out of her briefcase and proffered it forward. 

Spencer took it with a frown, in the corner in black ink it read simply: Re: Wren Briar - Reid Y/L/N.

“Uh,” he ran his fingers over the envelope and looked up at Jenny with a frown. “What is this?” 

Jenny smiled softly, a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. 

“Congratulations,” she spoke sincerely. “That is your official adoption papers. Wren is now formally in the care of the two of you.” 

You felt a flurry of emotions all at once and you didn’t know which one to focus on. But you were distracted from that when Spencer, out of nowhere, started sobbing. 

“S-seriously?” He stuttered, tears streaming from his eyes. 

“Seriously, Doctor Reid.” Jenny smiled. “I know it’s been a long and difficult process, but it’s over now.”

“Oh my god.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. “Oh my god.” 

Seeing the happiness on Spencer’s face made your own tears fall and you gripped him tightly. 

“We did it, Spence. We did it.” You cried. 

Jenny saw herself out as the two of you continued to cry. At some point Spencer wrapped you in his arms and sobbed into your shoulder while you did the same into his chest. 

Eventually both your tears started letting up and he sat back and wiped the stains on your cheek. He was smiling shakily at you and you returned the gesture. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered, voice cracking with emotion. “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to do this without you. I know this wasn’t part of the plan but-”

“Screw the plan.” You cut him off. “Plans change. I can’t ignore the feeling of elation and relief I felt when Jenny told us. Goddamnit I love Wren, I love her so much. And I want to be her mother, Spencer, I really want that.” 

“You…” he choked. “You do?”

“Yes. This wasn’t the life I envisioned for myself but life isn’t straightforward. Things happen, plans change. I found my family. And it’s you and Wren.” You smiled as your tears started up again.

Spencer was quick to tug you back into his arms and hold you tighter than you’d ever been held before. He nuzzled against your neck and placed soft kisses on your flesh. 

“I love you so much.” He cried. “And I love our little found family.” 

You stayed like this for some time, until you needed to pick Wren up from school. For the first time you and Spencer went together. 

When you told her the news she jumped up and down and squeezed you both as tightly as her little arms would allow and it filled your heart to the brim. 

There was no doubt in your mind that this was where you were supposed to be. 

As she planted big sloppy kisses on yours and Spencer’s cheeks, you heard him whisper, welcome to the family little pumpkin. 

***

Four Months Later

The noise from the backyard filtered in through the open door, little voices chattering, the occasional screech of excitement, giggle from tiny lungs and small feet pitter pattering in the grass. 

You poured yourself a glass of water and sipped from it while you observed the chaos. 

It was Wren’s sixth birthday and damn near every child in her school had descended on your home. The BAU team members and their kids were all in attendance and you wondered if your garden would ever be the same again. 

There was a bounce house in one corner, a magician in the other - for which Spencer had begrudged paying for when he could have done it himself. 

You’d insisted he wanted to be more present for the event, really enjoy the memories made today on her first birthday as your daughter. 

Rover had long ago distanced himself from children pulling his matted fur and retired to his bed in Wren’s room. You couldn’t blame him, you’d half contemplated joining him. 

You were exhausted from all the planning, from the demands of motherhood and still trying to hold down your job at the BAU, albeit only part time now. 

You hadn’t even stopped to consider how tiring the party would actually be. 

You felt a presence behind you and spun on your heels to find Spencer smiling at you as he sidled up to you. He moved in close and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Are you as tired as I am?” He chuckled. 

“I don’t think anyone is as tired as you, you’re the life and soul of this party.” You teased him. “I saw Wren dragging you on to the bounce house.” 

“It’s been a long time since my old knee injury hurt this bad.” He grumbled a little. “But it’s worth it to see her happy.” 

“I can’t believe she’s six already. The months are flying by.” You sighed wistfully. 

“She’ll be eighteen and going off to college any day now.” He laughed.

“Bringing boys home.”

“Don’t you dare!” He gasped. “Do not put that idea in my head.”

“Sorry,” you smiled sweetly. “It’s a long way off.” 

“It better be.” He shook his head. 

“So, uh…I got you something.” You reached behind you and grabbed the small, neatly wrapped gift off of the kitchen counter. 

Spencer frowned at it as he took it somewhat cautiously. 

“You got me a gift? For our daughter's birthday?” He ran his fingertips over the wrapping paper curiously. 

“Just open it and be grateful.” You rolled your eyes playfully. 

Still with a frown on his face, Spencer tore the gift wrap, the same kind as you used to wrap the obscene amount of gifts you’d brought Wren. 

You held your breath and waited, your nerves getting the better of you and you leaned back against the counter top as your legs shook a little. 

Spencer’s deft fingers made quick work of the paper, tossing it aside like the excited six year old had with her own gifts. 

Once opened he stared at the item in his hand. Approximately five inches long. Thin. Hard plastic. 

You watched him stare at it as if it was a completely foreign object, patiently waiting for him to look up, to say something. 

His hands started to tremble and when he finally did look up at you, tears swam in his eyes. 

“Is this…for real?” His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke. 

“It’s like the fifth one I took so I’m fairly certain.” You nodded, feeling your own eyes fill with tears. “Wren’s going to be a big sister.” 

Pregnancy test still in hand, he suddenly threw his arms around you and squeezed you so tightly you felt the air leave your lungs. 

“We’re having another child?” He whispered against your neck.

“This family just keeps growing.” You laughed as you wrapped him in your arms. 

You wiped away your tears, not wanting to be seen crying at Wren’s birthday party. But soon your moment was over, and you were being forced away from each other. 

“Mommy, daddy, is it time for cake?” Wren’s voice carried in from the garden.

You sprung apart and stared at each other, a new batch of tears in both of your eyes for completely different reasons. 

“Did she just…” you breathed, voice slightly horse.

“I think so.” Spencer sniffed, a delighted smile on his face. 

Thus far Wren had always called you both by your names which was entirely understandable. Spencer had always told her she could call you mom and dad if and when she felt it was right. 

“As if this day wasn’t perfect enough.” He wiped his eyes, pocketing the pregnancy test after giving it one last look. 

“We better go, daddy.” You winked at him and went to pass him but he grabbed you by the waist. 

“Oh jeez, why is that so hot when you say it?” He growled, bowing his head and placing kisses on your neck, making you giggle. 

“Really?” You smirked. 

“Really.” He hissed, stepping back and nodding to his crotch where you can instantly see the bulge forming in his slacks. 

“Hmm, I’ll bear that in mind daddy.” You chuckled and he let out a soft low moan.

But before he could reply, you were summoned again. 

“Mommy, daddy!” Wren hollered from the yard. 

“Ok, not so sexy anymore.” He shook his head, stepping further back. “I’ll get the cake.”

“I’ll get my phone so I can film you and your horrible singing.” You gently kissed his cheek before he walked away. 

Spencer lit the six candles on the pumpkin shaped birthday cake and cautiously carried it through to the yard while he began singing happy birthday. 

All the kids and adults joined in as Wren beamed from ear to ear as all eyes were on her. You held your cellphone steady, hovering by the back door where you filmed the chorus.

When the song was over everybody cheered and Wren sucked in a huge breath before blowing out the candles. 

You watched on as Spencer placed a kiss in her messy dark hair and she smiled brightly at her dad in return. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off the two of them, Wren bouncing excitedly in her chair while Spencer went about cutting the cake into slices for all the children. 

Spencer handed her the first slice and she gorged on it, stuffing the cake in her mouth and leaving icing smudged around her lips.

It was crazy how much things had changed in such a short space of time. Six months ago you never would have pictured yourself here, a mother to a six year old and growing another child inside of you. 

Life has a funny way of giving us exactly what we want at exactly the wrong time. But for you and Spencer and Wren, the world had worked its magic and done you all the biggest favour. 

It had given the three of you the kind of love you all so sorely needed, it had offered a home to three people who were out in the cold. It had created a family, who in eight months time would have a new addition to it. 

Ultimately all we really strive for in life is to find somewhere to belong, and although it may have been unexpected, it was safe to say that you, Spencer and Wren had found that somewhere with each other. 

@ultragirrl @wittlewowa @bxtchopolis @coldheartedmar

[penny00dreadful]

Folie à Deux - Part 3

For @psychocatnerd

Rating: Explicit

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

Despite Eddie’s probably entirely accurate depiction of Steve and his complete confidence in his ability to ‘yes-and’ himself into oblivion, the longer he spent in the car, the closer and closer he got to his destination, the nerves got worse and worse.

It didn’t help that the only thing Steve had in his rich boy car, holy shit this thing ran smooth, was ‘Steve’ music. He had nothing loud and screaming to drown out his slowly mounting panic or channel the tapping of his fingers on the wheel.

Like, he had Queen, but there were only so many times he could play Stone Cold Crazy over and over before he needed something else. 

Robin had been adamant about gaining her own independence and while that hadn’t yet manifested in her own drivers licence, it had manifested in her taking the bus to and from Indanapolis, which meant that Eddie was left driving to the next town over, the bigger one, to go pick her up and take her back to Hawkins.

As the bus station came into view, Eddie tried his best to keep his cool. 

He checked himself in the rearview mirror and while, yup, that was still Steve staring back at him, maybe a little more dishevelled than he would usually look, he was pretty sure he could pull this off, actually.

All of that swiftly flew out of the fucking window when Robin got her hand on the passenger door and he had rapid fire thoughts running through his mind of oh fuck, what do I call her? Robbie? Bobbie? Bobbin? Bob? Buckles? Steve had some convoluted system of nicknames, what the fuck would he call her right now?

Robin opened the door, throwing her bag in the back and Eddie was out of fucking time.

“R- Bu- Bobbin!” Eddie exclaimed, a wide smile across his face. Fuck, this was all already going downhill. “How was the bus?”

Robin paused in her shifting, getting herself comfortable in the passenger seat, hands stuck on the seatbelt she had been pulling out and she turned her head slowly, looking at him with a critical eye.

Shit, okay. 

So maybe he hadn’t been as ‘expert’ as he had claimed to be, but fuck it. Nowhere to go but up, right?

“The bus was the bus, Steve.” Robin replied, still examining him like a bug under a microscope, her eyes digging in. 

He put the car back into drive and began to manoeuvre out onto the road, keeping his own eyes front and centre, knowing if he glanced over he wouldn’t be able to keep the strained smile he had on plastered over his face.

They fell into a bitterly uncomfortable silence. Robin was staring at him and Eddie was starting to sweat. Fuck sake, he was known as the guy who could talk until the cows came home and now, now was the time he ended up blanking out on anything to say?

The tension in the car was so thick Eddie felt like he was fucking choking on it, the quiet weighing down on him like some kind of accusatory blanket.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Robin and Steve be silent around each other. Fuck, what did they usually talk about? Girls? Boobies? Steve’s time at work? What happened in their lives since the last time they talked?

Fuck.

“How was college?” He tried, desperate for something to latch onto.

Robin continued to stare at him. Eddie wasn’t even sure she’d blinked yet. He could see her jaw move, like she was rolling around any potential answer in her mouth. He could feel her eyes raking over his face, his shoulders, where his hands were on the wheel. Ten and two, right? That’s how Steve drove, all uppity and proper?

Except shit, no, that wasn’t it. He was usually leaned back, an elbow on the door or something else effortlessly cool and relaxed.

The road stretched out in front of them and Eddie felt like it was going to be the longest god damned drive of his life.

“The week is long.” Robin said, out of fucking nowhere, nearly making him jump.

“The- wh-” Eddie stuttered. What the fuck kind of tense was that? “Like you had a long week at school?”

Robin took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. 

“Sure.” She nodded slowly. “Let’s go with that.”

Robin twisted in her seat, reaching for her bag in the back, keeping half her body in the front of the car. It was a move that Eddie was pretty sure Steve wouldn’t allow but by the time he had remembered that, she was already rummaging around.

Eddie heard a muttered “shit” coming from her.

“What? What is it?”

Robin pulled herself mostly back into the front, one hand still digging around in her bag. “Can you pull over really quick? I think I might have left something behind.”

Eddie took a quick glance out the window to the empty roads around them. Nothing but asphalt and trees as far as the eye could see. He wasn’t even sure of the last time they passed another car. Typical Hawkins shit. He pulled off into the grass by the edge of the forest and threw the car into park.

“What did you forg-” Eddie’s words got caught in his throat as the cold metal of a sharp blade was pressed mercilessly against his throat, not cutting but dangerously close to doing so.

Fucking hell he hadn’t even seen Robin move. 

She was leaning over the centre console, her body pressing in threateningly close, her eyes ablaze and her teeth bared. 

“What are you?” She hissed out.

Eddie had faced up against knives before, they weren’t anything new to him but there was something about being threatened by someone who he knew for a fact had faced down death and Russian soldiers and fuckign alternate dimension creatures and fought for her life that gave Robin an extra terrifying edge. 

Eddie threw his hands up in surrender. He probably could have moved a little slower, probably could have actively tried not to shock her but sue him, he was starting to panic.

“I’m-” He swallowed against his own will, feeling the blade cut in ever so slightly. “I’m Steve-?”

“No you’re not.” She snapped back. “You might look like him, but you don’t move like him, you don’t talk like him. You’re something else entirely. What are you? Are you Vecna? Where is Steve?! What have you done with him?!”

She was shouting at him now and Eddie was probably about five more loud words away from curling up into a ball so fuck it. Steve could be mad at him later for spilling the beans. 

“I’m Eddie! Steve’s fine, he’s back home!” He squeaked out, entirely undignified but that wasn’t exactly his top priority right now. 

“Bullshit.” She spat, pressing in just a tiny bit more. “You think I’m gonna believe some fucking… pod person-”

“No, no!” He had nowhere to back up, nowhere to go. Robin already had him up against the driver's side door and he could tell from the look in her eye that if he didn’t convince her soon, she wouldn’t hesitate. “It’s me, I swear! It’s- I’m Eddie!”

She didn’t waver for a second aside from a disbelieving quirk of her eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Rob, please, I swear-”

“Prove it.”

“I… fuck.” 

Okay, Eddie and Robin, Eddie and Robin. They had things they shared together, right? They had that argument about music that one time? And like… there was the whole ‘Steve’ of everything between them because while Robin was a rambler and scatterbrained and weird she was a fucking genius in certain ways and far more perceptive than people gave her credit for.

“You and Steve have your entire first dance planned out for your totally real not for tax benefits marriage to Total Eclipse of the Heart. It took you a month to figure out one of the lifts and I nearly died when Steve dragged me into it one day when you weren’t there.” Eddie word-vomited out in a single breath. “I’m actually a big fan of romance movies and novels and we’ve talked about it extensively and you swore to never tell anyone but I have a suspicion you’ve told Steve because you tell him everything.” he hesitated, wilting a little under her still critical eye.

“You’re gonna have to give me more than that.” 

Eddie bit his lip, deciding to finally man up and go for broke.

“I’m hopelessly in love with your soulmate. And I want him to bend me over any available surface and buttsex me until I can’t walk properly anymore.”

Robin pursed her lips but it looked more like she was trying to hide a smile rather than preparing to gut him like a fish.

With a flick of her wrist, she retracted the pocket knife, relaxing back into her seat and sending him a crooked grin. “I would have expected you to do better with his hair. You certainly stare at him enough for it.”

Eddie’s mouth hung open, staring, trying to get over the fucking whiplash of her accepting the answer so quickly. 

Robin looked back over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Drive.”

“Your lesbian tried to kill me, Stevie.” Eddie called out into the Harrington home, letting both himself and Robin inside.

Robin shot off ahead of him before coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the room, turning her head slightly like she was trying to listen for something.

There was only silence that answered him back and that wasn’t exactly the best way to convince Robin that he wasn’t some kind of body snatcher. 

Eddie felt his fingers twitch. He didn’t have any of his rings and he had nothing to fiddle with, nothing to nervously twist as he tried not to panic about the fact that Steve had run off somewhere with Eddie’s body.

Something had caught Robin’s attention though, and she took off again into the kitchen.  

Something clanked in one of Steve’s many unused garages. 

Rich people, what the fuck, man.

A mess of shaggy dark brown curls poked around the door and Eddie let out a silent sigh of relief that both his body and Steve were apparently fine, just fucking around in his garage for some reason.

Steve glanced between the two of them with wide, wide eyes, fuck were his eyes always that big? Did he look like that all the time?

Robin sighed out “dingus” as soon as she caught sight of him and the two of them fell into each other like they had been drawn together by some magnetic force, like she just knew it was Steve, how did she just know?

Steve had changed his clothes, switching the crop top and tight ripped jeans out for some kind of tank top and Jesus H. Christ. 

Steve had put Eddie’s body in those fucking gym shorts and while they did not look as good on him as they did on Steve, they… still weren’t half bad, actually. 

Damn, Eddie really needed to highlight his legs more.

If he ever got his body back.

“Birdie.” Steve muttered into Robin’s neck while he plucked her from the ground and swung her around himself.

Birdie, god damn it! The one name I didn’t fucking think of, of course.

Eddie huffed in almost mock irritation but if he was being honest with himself, there was some actual irritation there too. 

“Why doesn’t he get a knife to the throat?” Eddie scowled, turning his nose skyward.

Steve blinked. “Excuse me?”

Robin waved him off. “Because this is clearly Steve and he’s not acting extremely suspicious!”

Steve looked down at her. “You held a knife to his throat?”

“He was acting suspicious.” She said, completely unphased. 

“Did you call him a pod person?”

“He was acting like a pod person!”

“I was not-”

“Did you cut him?” Steve was leaning around Robin, still in his embrace, raking his eyes over Eddie’s neck.

“No, I’m not that careless, Steven.”

“Well it’s hard to know sometimes, Robert. You can barely carry a cup of coffee six steps without spilling it.”

“That’s not my fault! The human body’s oscillation rate-”

“Okay.” Eddie clapped his hands together in a move that was so reminiscent of Steve it almost scared him. “While this has been a lovely reunion, I am feeling very third wheeled, here and I don’t like it so I’m gonna start complaining about it.”

With a tilt of his head, Eddie was able to spot some kind of metal monstrosity in the garage over Steve’s shoulder. Something with bars and weights and cushioned bits. It looked like it could have either been a torture machine or an exercise machine. 

Or with some creative thinking, some kind of sex thing.

It probably wasn't a sex thing. 

Unfortunately.  

“Stevie, what were you doing while I was gone?” Eddie asked, wondering if he’d be able to like… do things with one of those machines now that he was in Steve’s body.

Steve shrugged, his cheeks turning a little pink. “Did you know you can squat, like, 160?”

Eddie stared at him, bewildered. “Uh… no? I did not know that. Why do you know that? How do you know that? What does that even mean? What-”

Eddie looked back to the home gym again.

No…

He didn’t…

He wouldn’t!

This was tantamount to betrayal!

“What have you been doing to my body, Harrington?”

Steve fixed him with what could only be described as a Steve Harrington smile, all sweet boy-next-door charm and standup citizenry, which was so fucking weird coming from his own face, scars and all.

“Testing it out.” Steve said to him, like he was an innocent angel. “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t be mad if I explored a little?”

“That’s not what I meant, I didn’t mean jock shit.”

“What did you mean then?”

Sexy things! Do sexy things to my body while you’re in there!

“This is so fucking weird.” Robin was staring in between the two of them with both a sense of wonder and some kind of terrifying clinical curiosity. “You.” She pointed at Steve. “Follow me. Tell me everything. You.” She pointed at Eddie. “Stay here. You tell me everything once we’re done.”

“Separately? What is this? An interrogation?”

“Yeah.” Robin answered with an air of ‘duh’ around her. “I’m collecting the facts independently, dipshit.”

“Why am I dipshit and Steve gets to be dingus?”

“Because I said so.”

“This is blatant favouritism.”

Robin snorted. “Nice of you to catch up.” She patted him on the head again, leaving him pouting and steered Steve back into the garage, shutting the door behind her. 

Eddie had only managed to resist his impulses for all of four minutes, sitting on the couch and twiddling his thumbs before he finally broke. 

Steve and Robin could be in the garage for hours knowing the two of them, so he had time. He had time to be a little shit and that box in the back of Steve’s closet had been a box living in the back of his head since he had first laid eyes on it.

So, yeah.

Four minutes is all it took him to give into his impulses and tear up the stairs.

It was right where Eddie had left it, sitting innocently in the back corner. In all honesty Eddie had expected to come back and find it hidden but apparently Steve had been so preoccupied trying to figure out if he could bully Eddie’s body into doing some jock nonsense that the thought of the secret box at the back of his closet hadn’t even crossed his mind.

God, he hoped Steve wouldn’t take his body out jogging next. 

Maybe he could handle swimming, but jogging seemed like such a… task.

Eddie knelt down, his heart in his throat and repeated the motion he had that morning, slipping his finger under the lip of the cardboard box and lifted.

Oh.

He’d thought…

They told him it was gone…

But there it was.

Lovingly folded and gently placed in a small secret space at the back of Steve’s closet.

Denim and patches and pins and blood and grime.

His vest.

Steve had kept his vest.

Even after everything. All the bad memories attached to it, all of the hurt and pain that must have come from it. Steve had kept it. And told Eddie it was lost.

Why would he tell Eddie it was lost?

Why would he keep it?

Hidden away in the back of his closet like some kind of… secret shame?

Was Steve ashamed of keeping it?

Away from him?

Or was he ashamed of why he kept it?

What could have possessed him to keep something of Eddie’s so close yet so far away. In his bedroom but hidden like a secret.

Eddie looked closer, trying to figure it out, trying to put himself in Steve’s mind, which wasn’t as easy as he thought it might be, being in his body. But he wanted to know. 

Why did Steve lie about it, keep it and then hide it?

Eddie reached out, but stopped himself. It didn’t feel… right for some reason. The vest didn’t really feel like his anymore, it was… it was Steve’s. Steve bled on this thing, he fought and protected and suffered on that vest. Far more than Eddie ever had.

And anyway, he was making a new one so… It wasn’t his anymore. It wasn’t his right to take it. 

He put the lid back on and took a step back, staring at it, going through everything in his head.

What did it mean?

He knew what he hoped it meant, what he suspected it meant but he couldn’t be sure and he wanted so badly to be sure. 

Should he ask about it?

He didn’t even have to ask Steve, he could ask Robin.

But if he asked Robin it would almost definitely get back to Steve that he’d snooped and that he’d found something that Steve clearly felt like hiding. 

Eddie placed his hands on his hips and sighed. 

He didn’t really know what to do to move forward. 

Well… he knew what he wanted to do. 

He wanted to kiss Steve about it, that was what he wanted to do. 

But the thing was, he wanted to kiss Steve. All of Steve. 

He didn’t want to kiss Steve while Steve was him, in his body.

Not that… well. Not that Eddie would turn down the opportunity to kiss himself if it was handed to him. 

He was man enough to admit he was curious. Who wouldn't be?

But he wanted all of Steve.

It would feel almost incomplete were it to happen now.

Glancing over, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and all at once was reminded that they kind of had other things to be worrying about right now.

Like this whole fucking Jodie Foster Freaky Friday nonsense.

Yeah…

Yeah, it could wait.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 AO3

As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation!

Divider by @firefly-graphics

[lostsyren]

⋆˙⟡ eternal chapter six: sorry

full chapter here

˖⋆࿐໋ extract

…She seemed so drained, the bags under eyes looking blue in the stark daylight, her lips chapped and cheeks wan.

Rafe must’ve looked even worse. He instinctively ran a hand across his rough, stubbled jaw and squinted his eyes, pupils bloodshot from the sleepless night driving.

“Come on, I’ll drive the last stretch,” she offered, grabbing the keys from his pocket.

The casual way she grazed her hands over his hip sent shivers slithering down his spine– he had to stop himself from grabbing her wrist, just so he could feel her lingering touch for one more second.

He wondered if she remembered last night? When she jumped on top of him, kissed him so hungrily, touched him so wantonly– he wanted her to do it again. He could reciprocate it now, when she was sober. But no…she’d either forgotten or was pretending like it didn’t happen, leaving Rafe to agonise over the memory of her insatiable eyes gazing down at him as she sat up in his lap.

They got to driving, Rafe watching the distant stretch of roads trickle into highways, the once vacant tarmac now populated with strings of cars. Rafe let himself rest his eyes, his head lolling against the window with the glass cool against his face. Sofia had put the radio on, the music pretty and lilting, sending Rafe into dreams and when he woke up, he was greeted with the ocean.

“You up?” Sofia’s voice called out from the driver's seat.

He grunted in response, still groggy with the remnants of sleep. The coastline was distant, and blue, the water lined with crashing white waves.

“Good timing. We’re nearly there.”

Rafe nodded, sitting up in the seat. He rubbed his eyes trying to shrug of the weariness.

“I think I have enough cash to find a place for the night,” he began, mentally calculating how much he had, especially with the money he’d flushed for the coke.

“What?” Sofia said, her eyes fixating on him.

He glanced back at her confused, “Yeah it should be fine, I’ll just find a hotel or something.”

“No you’re staying with me– unless you don’t want to?”

Rafe furrowed his eyebrows at this, “why would you want me to stay with you? I’ve dragged you into all this shit, I’m not gonna take up space in your home too.”

Sofia rolled her eyes, glancing back at the road, “you can sleep on the couch until you come up with a plan.”

Rafe tensed his jaw, hating the reversal of roles. He was supposed to be the provider, the protector, the man. But here he was leeching off of Sofia’s kindness.

“Thank you Sofia,” he said, voice gruff with sleep and mortification.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

But he did though, otherwise he could’ve been dead in an alleyway right now.

The rest of the car ride was silent…

⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ ⋆

[gorgon-goddess-of-chaos]

Stupid

Wrote this on a whim, had an idea and had to get it out.

Darkiplier x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 1130

You were stranded out in the rain by your date with no way of getting home, and against your better judgment, you called Dark. Shame burned inside you, not wanting to admit that you were relying on an ex-partner after failing to get a new one. But you had no other way of getting home, and the streets were far too dark and slick for you to even consider walking. You texted him the address after he hung up, going back into the restaurant as the winds continued to storm, threatening to soak you to the bone with chill rain. The poor host boy ran to get you a warm drink as you waited in their lobby, seeing you shiver. It was incredibly sweet, and you passed him what little cash you had on you for the gesture. 

Dark pulls up in front of the restaurant, and you sprint out to his car, clutching the to-go cup close to you under your coat as you clamber into the passenger seat. At the sight of you, he turns up the heat and puts on the seat warmer, incredibly concerned.

“What on earth happened?”

“He walked out on me… said he was going to the bathroom. Was I, stupid for believing him? We had only just ordered, but I knew he wasn’t coming back when they only brought out my food. And I stupidly agreed to let him drive me here.”

“No, I would not say that was “stupid” of you. Sounds like the issue was him, not you. The drive over here and ordering food is not nearly enough time for someone to make that drastic of a decision. At least he should have had the decency to tell you to find an alternative way home…”

Dark grips the steering wheel a bit tighter as he speaks, trying to both calm you down and keep his eyes on the road. The street lights reflect off large puddles on the asphalt, splashing onto the sidewalk as your tires cut through them.

“I’m sorry I called you, I’m sure you were busy.”

“Not at all, you know how I enjoy spending my evenings. Simply a few chapters into a book and about halfway through a cup of tea when you called. Something I can very easily pick back up. And I am sure you know, if I had found out you had to walk home in this weather, your inconsiderate date would have perhaps lost a few fingers, or limbs…”

It makes you laugh a little bit, the shaking from the cold finally settling. You pick up your drink, making careful two-handed sips as you don’t quite trust your grip strength after the cold made your finger joints a tad useless. The heat is turned down, making it easier to hear the rain outside and the tires against the road. Watching water droplets race down the window like when you were little. Dark glances over at you when you go quiet, his gaze softening when he sees you smile again.

“What happened to us?”

Your question cuts the silence, startling Dark a little. He waits, working through his thoughts to form a coherent response.

“We were younger, we wanted different things. No one was at fault, and I think that made it hurt more…”

“I don’t think we want different things anymore, Dames.”

His breath hitches, having not heard you call him that since your amicable break up.

“Are you done having your adventures out there? Are you really sure I am exciting enough for you?”

“You were always exciting enough for me. I was hoping you’d come with me.”

“...I am truly sorry I could not.”

The silence surrounds the two of you again, Dark adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as he focuses on the road again. You take the hint and go back to watching out the windows, the conversation not going quite as you had hoped. Maybe it was your broken heart trying to fill the void of tonight’s wound, maybe you were saying the things you wanted to for a long time. He pulls into your driveway, parking the car and taking out the keys.

“I will walk you to the door, I refuse to have you standing out in the rain, locked out.”

“Thank you, Dark.”

His larger frame blocks your back from the rain, despite the fact he’s not wearing a coat. The simple white button-down soaks in the water easily, plastering the wet fabric against his body. His tie is loosened, but clearly he never quite got undressed from his day out before heading to get you. It takes a bit of working, but your key unlocks your door and you push inside. You enter, shrugging off your coat as you turn back to Dark, him smiling softly at you.

“Would you like to come in?”

“No, I should not. But thank you, darling.”

He turns to walk back to his car, but you grab his hand. Dark turns back to you, confused.

“Something wrong?”

“Can we try again? Even if it’s just one time?”

His jaw clenches, and you can see the conflicting emotions behind his eyes. Water drips down his hair and down his face, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh.

“I should not. But I want to. You have always been my greatest temptation.”

“Why don’t we then?”

Dark looks away, a lone tear mixing with the raindrops on his cheeks.

“I am afraid you will leave me behind again… that I cannot be the man you want me to be. I am older now, I use a cane, my habits are those of an old man. I know this. And I do not want you to realize this a bit too late, and break my heart again…”

“I was stupid to leave you behind before. And I’m not just saying that. Leaving you here has been my biggest regret. I promise you that.”

Dark looks between your eyes, searching your mind and seeing you’re telling the truth. You know he doesn’t like to intrude, but you don’t blame his disbelief.

“Please, let me know if you get bored of me…”

“I will never get bored of you.”

You grab his tie, tugging him down into a kiss. He’s surprised for a moment at your bold move, but matches your energy as he cups your face. The two of you stand out in the rain on your front porch, soaked to the bone but you could not be happier with each other. When you part, you tug him inside, promising another book and more tea as your clothes dry together. And you’d never have gotten him back if that asshole had never left you at that restaurant. 

[aotearoa20]

The coach lurched, nearly throwing her from her seat as she cursed. The journey through the pass was never a comfortable one, especially on today of all days, but this was getting ridiculous. The driver was racing down the winter roads as though the devil himself were behind them and for what purpose?

They ran too swiftly through another rut and she pitched violently into one of the passengers unfortunate enough to be crammed next to her.

“Does he mean to drive us off the mountain?” she grumbled, straightening the creases of her dress in vain.

“It is for the Englishman.” came the hushed reply and she scowled as she glanced up at him.

Tall and wiry, and sitting so stiff he appeared even more so, she'd noticed the foreigner but had paid him little that mind. Perhaps she'd hoped idly that he might be good for conversation, he seemed kind about the eyes and smiled readily, especially when night fell and they all wanted a distraction from the dark. 

“Does his have an engagment in the north worth double all our necks,” she scoffed as she spoke but the man beside her frowned.

“He sent for him”

“He?”

He shuddered, “Him in the Pass.”

Ana scoffed. No one lived in the Pass. Further up on the frontier or around here to the west of it. But no one within it. None would be so foolish to set roots there and risk contending with…

Her hands went suddenly cold as she turned the little posy between her fingers. A gift from her husband for safe travels. It likely would do little if any true trouble came but such gifts were given to comfort the giver anyway. 

“Surely not…” she murmured

But the man nodded gravely, “We are stopping at the end of the Brogo Pass. The driver hopes to get there early and take off before he arrives.”

Ana did not like the sound of that at all. To be sure, she pitied the young man who sat apparently as good as dead across from her by the window, but there was no use risking all their necks for a stranger.

“Does he know where he is going?” she murmured softly to herself.

She turned to him again. He had that odd detachment, the few Englishmen she’d ever come, across seemed to share; though it had none of the usual haughtiness. And in his defense they were all staring at him as one does a ghost.

His fingers were whiteknuckled where he gripped brown notebook in his hands but his face was soft in awe. He was looking adamantly out the window with such wonder that Ana leaned forward to see just what caught his attention. But there was nothing of note. Rivers and strips of forest and the mountains bracketing the sky…

“No Mountains -” she asked before wariness or common sense could stop her. The stranger turned to her curious and despite the twist in her stomach she powered on with the little german she knew “In England? There are no mountains?”

His eyes brightened in understanding and he replied in a quick stream of words, a jumble of german and english that she didn't even bother trying to decipher. Instead she waited for his voice to peter of and raised an eyebrow. He laughed rather sheepish, scratching the back of his neck. He had a nice laugh, damn him, and she felt her heart warm to him against her will.

“Not like these,” he said more simply, or something along those lines. Ana couldn't imagine a place where the mountians did hold up the sky at some point or another. But she tried and when she looked out again supposed they would be rather grand to a stranger. A soft smile crept upon her face.

“My name is Jonathan - ”

“No.No.” And she shook her head firmly even as his face fell. She didn’t know if it was bad luck to learn the name of a walking dead man but she didn't want to regardless. It was like naming the Easter lamb, it did no one any good.

Still she could not help pointing out the great peaks of God's Seat. It was a sight to behold even in her lofty opinion. A darker part of her mind was pleased that the man could see such beauty on today. She hoped it might bring him comfort in whatever the morning might bring for him.

If he made it so far.

The sun set behind the hills and on the travelled. Around her some of the others still talked and debated the Englishmans arrival and purpose and plans. She did her best to ignore them, not wanting to linger on the poor boy's fate. As the coachman lit his lamps however they began to pester her. What little German she was still more than the rest of them combined. Ask what he’s doing. What brings a foreigner into the lions den? Ask, girl ask. What sort of person leaves his homeland to break bread with a monster? So if only to shut them up she did.

The answer it turned out was hard to come by. Speaking in a language foreign to both parties brings a sort of camaraderie in its inevitable failings but doesnt make reaching the goal any easier.

“Business,” she said at last and though she could barely believe it he nodded.

“House business.” he agreed far more satisfied woth their sucess.

She nodded also and kept nodding trying the her head arlund the utter absurdity of it. Lord Almighty. She stood, pushing her head out the window and shouted above the howling wind.

“Faster, driver! Faster - the Englishman walks to his death for fucking real eastate.”

The others inside began shouting also, urging him forward as they all but flew across the thorugh the opening of the Pass. All the while the young man sat, clutching his notebook. He seemed very slight among the excited voices in the half standing crowd. 

“Is all well?” he asked, looking at her, his voice barely reaching over the racket.

She bit her lip and looked away. He knows. Ah, he knows in all the worst ways. Like one who realises they are not alone in the dark. But what light can she shed? And what good was in knowing of the beast in the room when one sits defenseless and trapped. She does not even know the word for ‘vampire’ in his tongue.

Suddenly - selfishly - she leaned forward again and pressed the posy of wild rose and garlic into his hands. Deaf to his protest she sat back and prayed. Others went forward after her. Passing on their own tokens and blessings for the road.

“Cannot be too careful, especially on a night like tonight.” her husband had said to her.

She rested her head in her hands, heedless to the rocking of the coach. St Michael guard him. St Jude aid him. Ah St George arent the people of England under your keeping. Intercede for him as I do. Watch over him, he knows not where he is going.

And then all at once the coach stopped. She hadn't even noticed they'd reached the end of the valley. Now she scoured the dark trees around them for any creature lurking under the boughs. Cicacda screamed into the night, branches whispered and very far in the distance a wolf howled but other than that nothing. The young man, Jonathan, reaches for his watch but someone puts a hand over his. 

Finally the coachman calls down, “There is no carriage here. The Herr is not expected after all. He will now come on to Bukovina, and return to-morrow or the next day; better the next day.”

She might have laughed at the disappointment on his face. She very nearly leant forward. Very nearly took his hand offered him a place in her mother-in-law’s home. There was space in the loft after all and she knew in spite of her illness and all their warnings she will have been making a small feast upon their arrival. The words were on the tip of her tongue.

Then the horses startled.

Ana had never seen the Demon of the Pass. This was her husband's home she did not usually venture this far fron Bistritz. As the calrche drew up beside, she was not excatly sure it was Him. She crossed herself, drawing back as far into the coach as she could all the same. When the coachman's bright eyes fell upon them she did not care who he was at all, just that he stayed far away from them.

When he questions the coachmen she feared he might fall upon them all there and then. She could run, all the way to Bukovina if she had to but in the dark they stood no chance.

‘The dead travel fast,’ says someone beside her and as the demon's attention falls back upin then she wants to cut his tongue out. His teeth flash in the lamp light and she stifled a scream.

She could not look at him. She could not do it and ended up staring baleful at the Englishman as his bags were taken from the coach. Now it was he who avoided their pointed stares. When he moved to get up she thought of grabbing him.

Can he not see? Does he not understand? He reaches out and takes the hand of corpse. For the first time the barest hint of apprehension crossed his face. What she would do to leap forward and spirit them all way from this place and unto the morning. It was a mere fancy of course. There was nothing on earth that could get her to move from the shadowy corner where she sat.

And then he was gone. 

The driver watched until the lights of the caleche winked out into the night and with a heavy sigh urged the horses forward. The rest of the journey was silent and somber. 

You do not know him, she tells her tears. There is no reason to weep. She took a shuddering breath and wiped her eyes. Except that she did. His name was Jonathan. May God have mercy on his soul.

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter twenty-seven | the dam thing

percy jackson x fem reader

Sadness was very, very tiring.

Your skin burned with the heat of the sun beating through the truck window, sitting with your knees to your chest. Percy and Grover had chosen to sit in the tow wench part of the stolen truck Thalia drove, while you sat up front with Zoe and Thalia.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the junkyard as Thalia drove, watching it get further and further away. She didn’t seem as bothered as you or Percy, or even Grover, like the death of Bianca hadn’t affected her even a little bit.

The boys’ voices flowed through the back and into the front, mumbling that you were unable to understand. You looked down at your hands; the tiny figurine that cost Bianca her life lay in your palms. Ironically, the one Nico didn’t have was Hades, the god of death. The dark hair, and the stony face he wore gave away which god he was.

Something settled on your chest. What were you supposed to say to Nico? What were you going to tell Chiron when you went back to camp? You’d made a plan—an awful one—that sent Bianca straight to her death. They’d hate you. Everyone would hate you.

In the back of your mind, you thought maybe it wasn’t your fault. Yes, you had the idea, but it was an idea you’d been intending to put to use yourself. You hadn’t forced Bianca to carry it out. You hadn’t even told her to go ahead with it. In retrospect, it hadn’t been your fault.

But you carried the guilt anyway.

Annabeth was right, Maybe you were claimed by the wrong goddess. You certainly weren’t smart by any means if you’d gotten a friend killed. And it wasn’t the first time you’d put Bianca in danger—your stunt at Westover had nearly sent you all plummeting to your deaths off the edge of a cliff.

“You think too hard,” said Zoe beside you.

You looked up. She was pale in the face, and looking out at the road ahead. “What?”

“It was not your fault. Do not think it was.”

Thalia glanced over. You swallowed hard, throat closing up.

“But it was,” you objected. “I had the plan. I was going to do what Bianca did. If anyone should be dead, it should be me.”

Zoe looked completely outraged. “Don’t say that. What happened to Bianca is terrible, but that does not mean you should have taken her place. It is as the prophecy decided. We could not control her actions or her decisions.”

That doesn’t make it any better, you thought.

The truck ran out of gas just as you approached a dead-end street, much to Thalia’s irritation. You all jumped out, Thalia slamming the door shut. One of the tyres burst immediately and began letting air out.

“Great,” she said. “What now?”

There wasn’t much to see or say about the area. Desert in every direction, barren mountains everywhere. The canyon in the distance was the only interesting thing, and a small river flowing down the middle.

“There’s a path,” Grover said. “We could get to the river.”

You squinted in the light. Very faintly you made out the outline of a small path winding down the cliff side.

“That’s a goat path,” said Percy.

Grover turned to him. “So?”

“So the rest of aren’t goats.”

“We can make it,” goat-boy assured. “I’m sure of it.”

A beat of silence caused you to look at Percy. He looked worn out, and a little tired, but determined. “No,” he said. “We’ll go farther upstream.”

“But—” Grover frowned.

“Come on, a walk won’t hurt us.” He looked at Thalia, and she held his stare for a second. You looked between them both; what was that about?

You shook it off, and let the others go up ahead. The quiet might do you some good, you felt—it gave you time to think things through.

Percy didn’t feel the same, clearly.

He looked back at you, slowing until he was at the back with you. You spared him a glance, focusing on the hills ahead of you. Not too far now.

“You okay?” He asked quietly.

You hummed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Percy shrugged his shoulders briefly. “I don’t know. You’re just quiet.”

“I’m tired, Percy,” you sighed. “I want to go home, now.”

You turned your head, to find him already looking at you. The blood rushed to your face, and you looked away. But…you couldn’t not look at Percy for too long. So you glanced back. Those bright green eyes flickered across your face and eyes, and you paid attention to the way his hair was a little sweaty and more tamed than it usually would be.

“I was thinking,” he said. “Did you want to stay over this summer? At my place? My mom wants to meet you. And it would be fun. We could get, like, takeout and stuff.”

You blinked. A little bit of sunshine made a hole in the dark, and your mouth quirked. “Sure, it’d be fun.” Was all you could think to say.

Percy’s expression faltered an inch, barely noticeable if you hadn’t grown used to the emotions he wore on his sleeve. He nodded once, and his smile was tight.

You wanted to invite Percy over to your place in return. You imagined running down the beaches with him, entirely in his element, and showing him a cove you had discovered one day, the path memorised. But you had left things unsettled at home, and the very thought of going back was too much at the moment, anxiousness spiking your veins.

The rest of the walk, you trained your eyes on the ground, following the river’s dips and splashes. It made the walk go by faster, and when you looked up, almost walking into Thalia. You were about to voice your question, when you sets your sights on the locked-up cabin with a canoe sale sign up outside the front shutters. The ground gently sloped, and the water ran more fiercely along.

Percy turned to you. In the middle of the desert, his eyes shone like stars. “You got a pen and paper?”

Of course you did.

Percy left a stack of drachmas on the countertop outside, and a ragged note beneath them: I O U 3 canoes.

“We need to go upstream,” Zoe said. She sounded like she was suffering from a terrible cold. “The rapids are too swift.”

“Leave that to me,” Percy decided. Nobody questioned him.

You quickly discussed who had which canoe—Percy and Zoe (you’d nearly argued over that one), Thalia and yourself, and Grover in his own.

Once, you never would have had a clue about canoes or rapids or how to get into one without tipping over. But camp had prepared you well, and there wasn’t much fuss getting in them. You held the canoe to the shore with the ore and…was something moving under it?

“Hey, Percy,” you turned your head, looking to him. But he spoke quietly with Zoe, so you left it.

You all got ready (and by ready, you meant, you argued with Thalia for the front seat, and won).

You found you weren’t actually going stir-crazy.

The canoes were pushed forward so forcefully you almost fell out of it, actually laughing when all you could see of Grover were his hooves in the air. When you recovered, you took a peek over the edge and into the water, looking past your reflection: naiads.

You knew what it was before you even saw it fully. After a while, the large monument before you came into view.

“Hoover Dam,” you voiced. “Built in the 1930’s.”

“It’s huge,” Thalia awed.

The naiads stopped pushing, and everyone climbed out onto the river’s edge. When the naiads swam away, the canoes gently floated back downstream, pushed by the current.

You stood together, looking up.

“Seven hundred feet tall,” Percy commented.

“Five million cubic acres of water,” Thalia hummed.

“Largest construction project in the United States,” Grover sighed.

Zoe looked at you all like you were crazy. “How do you know all that?”

“Annabeth,” Grover tilted his head.

“She was crazy over architecture. Gods, try getting some sleep in the same cabin as her.”

“Spouted facts all the time,” Thalia said. “Annoying as hell.”

“I wish she were here,” Percy said.

You didn’t have it in you to be annoyed. Because you felt the same way. In a sense, it felt like a mean joke from the world—you’d stopped in one of Annabeth’s dream locations, and she wasn’t able to see it.

“We should go up there.” Percy said. “For her sake. Just to say we’ve been.”

“We don’t have a great track record with heights.”

Percy just grinned.

“You are mad,” said Zoe. “But that is where the road is. And so, sightseeing it is.”

—

“It’s cold,” you sang. “It’s cold and windy and why are we just standing here?” You pivoted to Zoe, flaying your hands. You side-eyed Grover; he sniffed the air, shifted uncomfortably. “I mean, clearly monsters are coming.”

“How close are they?” Percy asked.

Grover shook his curly head. “Maybe not close…the wind from the dam, and the desert all around…scent could probably travel for miles. But it’s coming from almost everywhere. I don’t like it.”

“There’s a snack bar in the visitor centre,” said Thalia.

Percy’s eyebrows knit together. “You’ve come here before?”

“Once, to see the guardians,” she pointed across the dam, where carved into the cliff were two big statues. In the back of your mind, something felt familiar, maybe something you’d learned in school. “They were dedicated to Zeus when the dam was built; a gift from Athena.”

Tourists were clustered around the statues, seemingly looking at…their feet?

“What are they doing?” You asked.

“Rubbing the toes.”

You gagged.

“They think it brings good luck,” Thalia said.

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Mortals get crazy ideas. They don’t know the statues are sacred to Zeus, but they know there’s something special about them.”

Percy hummed. “When you were here last, did they talk to you or anything?”

Thalia’s expression darkened. “No. They don’t do anything. They’re just statues.”

Just statues brought a hot flame to your heart. Once again, you were reminded of Bianca. How you wished that one had been just a statue.

“Let us find the dam snack bar,” Zoe interrupted your saddening thoughts. You raised your head, blinking away the cloud cover.

Grover cracked a smile. “The dam snack bar?”

Zoe blinked innocently. “Yes. What is so funny?”

“Nothing,” he tried to keep a straight face. “I could use some dam French fries.”

Even Thalia smiled. “I could use the dam restroom.”

Percy snickered. And you broke, showing a smile. Eye contact with Grover proved to be a bad idea—you both broke out laughing.

Zoe just looked between everyone. “I do not understand.”

“I want to use the dam water fountain,” you wiped your eyes, still laughing.

“And,” Thalia tried catching her breath. “I want to…buy a dam t-shirt.”

Percy burst out laughing, setting you off. Zoe was not amused; her face was stoic, if not a little annoyed. You opened your mouth to make a joke, and then—

“Did anyone else just hear a cow?” Percy had stopped laughing.

You snickered, finding humour in the weird situation.

“A dam cow?” Thalia laughed.

“No,” said Grover, seriously. “I heard it too.”

Zoe listened. “I hear nothing.”

“Percy, are you okay?” You asked. Was it heat stroke? Or maybe he was overtired? “There’s definitely no cows about, man.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just…you guys go ahead,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Grover prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “I just need a minute. I need a minute to think.”

Zoe, Thalia and Grover headed off towards the visitor centre, and you were about to follow after them. But Percy looked…a little too confused for you to be happy leaving him on his own, especially hearing cows that weren’t there.

You trailed after him. Percy leaned on the rail that overlooked the water.

You came up beside him. “Do you want some water?”

Looking down at the water, Percy’s hand reached out and snaked around your arm, pulling you closer. Your eyes widened, but you didn’t resist.

“What—”

You followed his gaze downward, and couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is that—”

Percy nodded. “Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“Bessie the cow serpent.”

You looked at your friend. Your slightly stir-crazy friend. “That explains it all.”

Percy’s bring eyes practically shone looking at the sea creature. “What are you doing here? How did you get up here?”

A quick glance around showed nobody else could see this Bessie. Either that or they were all hoping it would go away if they avoided eye contact.

Bessie swam in a circle, long tail swishing, before bashing its head on the wall of the dam. “Mooooo!”

It was as if you were in a weird dream, quite frankly. A cow-sea-creature nobody but yourselves could see. But in this whole strange world of demigods and gods and monsters, was anything a real shock anymore?

But after the day you’d had so far, and Bianca’s passing, everyone felt like a big, fat joke on you.

“I can’t!” Percy exclaimed. “I’m with my friends!”

Bessie have an urgent moo, and dove underwater, swimming away.

Percy raised his head, green eyes meeting yours, and you hesitated on saying something. A weird chill settled on your spine, as if to say watch your back. You looked behind Percy, and froze. Two tall men in grey camouflage covered flickering skeletal bodies. And they were heading right for you.

“Gotta go,” you snatched up Percy’s hand. “Let’s go!”

You ran as fast as your legs would take you, lungs burning, toward the visitor’s centre. Percy skidded to a stop beside you as you slowed to fit through the entryway, and you didn’t have the time to pay attention to what it was he was looking at behind you. You bolted down the stairs, security yelling for you to slow down, but you paid them no heed. Your friends had no idea what was going on, and like hell would you let a repeat of what happened to Bianca happen.

Percy called your name behind you. “Wait up!” He yelled. “Slow down!”

“Like we have the time!” You called back, not caring if he heard. The ding of an elevator caught your attention. To your left, a group of tourists waited with a guide, and you took your chance, running across to it.

Just as you slid inside, Percy slid in behind you, and the doors closed with a ding. A few people looked your way, as you heaved for breath.

“We’ll be going down seven hundred feet!” The tour guide said cheerfully. Her dark hair was tied up in a long ponytail, and dark shades covered her eyes. “Don’t worry, ladies and gentlemen! The elevator hardly ever breaks!”

You could have rolled your eyes. Hardly ever—chances were, with your luck, the hardly ever part would happen to you.

“Does this go to the snack bar?” Percy asked behind you. A couple of people laughed. The tour guide looked your way, and shivers ran down your spine; you wished Percy had just kept his mouth shut. Your gut twisted.

“To the turbines, young man. Weren’t you listening to my interesting presentation upstairs?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Is there another way out of the dam?”

“It’s a dead end,” said an irritated-sounding tourist behind. You had half a mind to look them up and down for good measure, but refrained. “The only way out is the other elevator.”

With a ding, the elevator doors opened.

“Go right ahead,” the tour guide said. “Another ranger is waiting for you at the end of the corridor.”

You moved quickly, trying to get out of the small space.

“Young man!” The tour guide called. Percy gripped your arm. You turned back.

She’d taken off her sunglasses, twirling them in her hand, and you blanched. Her eyes were a startling grey. Just like yours. Just like Annabeth’s.

Something tugged in your stomach.

And something felt oddly familiar about this guide.

“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it.”

She looked at you. She winked, the corner of her mouth curved in a sly smile just the way yours did.

Just the way yours did.

You blinked. Before you could give any thought to what just happened, the elevator doors closed, and the only sound you could focus on was the sound of skeleton chattering.

With Percy still attached to your arm, you ran after the tour group, through a weird-looking tunnel made of jagged stone that seemed to go on forever. The air was humid and hot, and when you came out the other end, fifty-feet below you were enormous wind turbines. It was almost enough to send you dizzy.

By this point, you slowed, and allowed yourself to think. You’d gotten here on spontaneous thoughts, but where did you go from here? Considering your line of bad experiences with your own ideas, maybe it was best to sit this part out, the part full of action, and let Percy take the lead. Playing hero wasn’t going so well, for you.

You looked around in a circle, almost feeling desperately lost, as if your body told you let someone else take over. Preferably, an adult. Someone to take this burden from you all. Because, at last, this quest was wearing you thin, and the lingering question and unease surrounding what happened to Bianca would simply not let up on you.

All you wanted now, was to go back to camp.

Percy, at your side, shoulders slumped, sighed. He span his sword, disguised as a pen, between his fingers. You turned to him.

“Look,” you breathed. “I think—”

Percy’s eyes shifted to behind you, and widened. You barely saw the quick sweep of his arm pushing you out of the way before you felt it, staggering aside.

“H-hey—!”

The gleam of his sword caught your eye, as he swiped it straight down. Almost falling back, you turned to the victim of his harsh death.

Except the girl wasn’t dead.

Just horrified.

And very human.

“What the hell?!” She screeched. “Do you always kill people when they open a packet of Kleenex?”

Both yourself and Percy could only blink at the girl, whose wild red hair danced in her eyes. She blew it away, huffing when it fell back.

“You’re human?” Percy frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The girl pulled a face. “Of course I’m human. How did you get that sword through security?”

Your jaw almost dropped. “Ohhhh boy.”

“You can see this?”

The girl rolled her eyes. Her nose was red as if she’d been aggressively wiping it like she had a cold, and jeans with holes all over, like she’d gotten bored in class. The inner stylist in you cringed.

“Well, it’s either a sword or the biggest toothpick in the world,” she scoffed. “And why didn’t it hurt me. Not that I’m complaining. And woah, are you wearing lion fur?” She reached her hand out to Percy’s coat.

At Percy’s lack of words, you looked to him, going to prompt him to explain. But he stood like a fish, mouth agape, staring at this girl. Jealousy ran through your body, and your jaw clenched.

“It’s none of your business, really,” you huffed. The girl’s eyes rolled over to you like she was bored. “I mean, we gotta go anyway, so…”

Percy raised his hand suddenly and snapped his fingers in the girl’s face. She went cross-eyed looking at them. “You don’t see a sword,” he said. “It’s a ballpoint pen.”

She scrunched her nose. “Uh, no. I’m pretty sure it’s a sword.”

You almost wanted to sock Percy in the arm. “Bro, what are you doing? We need to go.”

“Who are you?” Percy ignored you.

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Now are you going to answer my questions or am I going to call for security?”

“Uh, miss Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” you imitated poorly. Her face was a picture at your words. “We really have places to be. Percy, we need to go.”

“You in a hurry or trouble?” Rachel asked.

“Hurry.”

“None of your business.”

Percy blinked at you, talking over one another. He sighed.

Rachel coughed a little too loudly for your nerves. You slowly turned to her, ready to give this random girl a piece of your mind. She grabbed your arm and pushed you along.

“Bathroom, now!”

You tripped on a wet floor sign, knocking it down on your way in. You landed on the slimy floor, complaining under your breath. Your own voice was too loud at this point, but something else caught your attention in the background.

The chattering of skeletons.

“Oh my god! Did you see those kids! They just ran at me with swords! I think they went that way towards the wind turbines! You better hurry!”

The chattering grew quieter, and then a knock on the door. “You’re good!”

You emerged back into the public. Rachel Elizabeth Dare looked shaken and slightly pale.

“All clear, but you better go.”

Down the way, skeletons were running in the direction Rachel sent them.

“We owe you, Rachel,” Percy breathed.

“What are those things?”

“The skeletons?”

Rachel nodded uneasily.

“Do yourself a favor,” Percy replied grimly. “Forget it all. Forget you ever met us.”

“Forget you tried to kill me?”

“That too,” you quipped. Rachel side-eyed you. You looked her up and down.

“But who are you?” The question was, very obviously pointed at Percy.

“Percy—gotta go.”

Warmth wrapped your wrist, and pulled you along. Behind you both, Rachel Elizabeth Dare was whining. “What sort of name is Percy Gotta-Go?”

The cafe was packed with kids shouting and crying, and your heart felt about to burst from the run down here. You scanned the room. In the middle, at a round table, Thalia, Grover and Zoe sat with their food.

You ran over, a gross and sweaty mess, panting. You slammed your hands on the table so hard their trays shook. “We—gotta—go,” you heaved.

“But we just got our burritos!” Thalia said.

Zoe looked around. “No. She’s right. Let’s go.”

The cafe wrapped around the dam, giving your friends a good view of the skeletons that had come to kill you. And all of them were armed with batons and pistons. The more urgent problem now, though—the skeletons Rachel had spotted were making their way over. They began to advance.

“Elevator!” Grover gasped.

You all ran for your lives, and skidded to a stop as the elevator arrived on your level with a ding! You scrambled back, almost tripping on someone’s toes as more skeletons came out. You were completely surrounded.

And then…Grover’s brilliant mind surfaced a brilliant plan.

“Good fight!” He screamed.

And launched his burrito right at a skeleton’s face. His skull fell off his shoulders with a clatter, like he’d been taken out by a grenade and not a burrito.

It didn’t take very long for Grover’s plan to take off. Kids began throwing their food this way and that, and you couldn’t even be mad at the soda and chips in your hair because the skeletons couldn’t aim their guns, and you were soon just blurry faces in a raging crowd.

“Four against eleven. What now?”

“It’s been nice going with you guys,” Grover trembled.

“Woah, their toes are really bright?”

“Percy, that’s really weird.”

“Thalia, pray to your dad.”

Said girl glared at your best friend. “He never answers.”

“Just this once. Please just try!”

“No! He won’t answer me!”

“This time is different!”

“Says who?!”

Percy hesitated. “Athena—” your head snapped to him. “I think.”

Thalia scowled.

“Try it!” Grover begged.

Thalia closed her eyes, sighing visibly. Her mouth moved in silent prayer, and you gave thought to what Percy said.

The grey eyes. That weird feeling in your stomach. And the same smile…

Things like that couldn’t be just a coincidence, could they? And after how you had felt all day…was it weird to hope your mom might be giving you guidance?

You tried it too.

Mom. Please, if you can hear me, give us some guidance. Show us what to do. I can’t anymore.

The skeletons closed in, and so did your chest. It pulled tight in a way you had never felt before…was this impending doom?

You dug for your dagger and held it tight in your fist. Percy clutched his sword closer.

Just as you thought your heart was giving out, a shadow fell over you. In slight fear, you tilted back your head, mouth agape. Above you, stood the very statues you set your sights on earlier. The bronze angels. Bullets pinged off their wings like rain on a metal roof. Both angels swept their giant arms like bats, and the skeletons went flying.

“Man, it feels good to stand up!” One said. His voice sounded tinny.

“Will ya look at my toes?” The other said. “What we’re those tourists thinkin’?”

“Get us out of here!” Thalia yelled.

Both angels looked down at her. “Zeus’s kid?”

“Yes!”

“Could I get a please, Miss Zeus’s Kid?”

“Please get us out of here!”

The angels shrugged to one another. “Could give my wings a stretch?”

Next thing you knew, one swept up Percy and Thalia, the other Grover and Zoe, and before you could get left behind, you leapt for one’s wing, shoes scuffling as you pulled your way up to its shoulder.

And then you flew straight up, over the dam, away from the river and the trouble.

—

“Tell me when it’s over!” Thalia said from your left. A timid peak behind the angel’s head showed you Thalia with her eyes squeezed shut, holding on for dear life.

Not that you could blame her. This high up, with nothing to properly hold on to, you were feeling a little worried, too. You’d situated yourself just in the crook of the angel’s neck, on his shoulder, holding on to his ear of all things. Your arms were starting to go a little dead, but you weren’t taking any chances.

“Are we…high?” She asked.

Percy kicked his foot off the edge of the mountain below and shook his head. “Nah, not really.”

It depends who you asked. Even this high was enough for you.

“We are in the Sierras!” Zoe yelled from the other angel. “I have hunted here before. At this speed, we should be in San Francisco in a few hours!”

News which both delighted you and twisted your guts. You would either find your sister alive and well in a state you’d never forget.

“Hey, hey, Frisco!” The other angel yelled. “Yo, chuck, we should visit those other guys at the Mechanics Monument again! They know how to party!”

“Oh, man, I am so there!”

“You’ve visited San Francisco?” You raised a brow.

“We automatons gotta have some fun once in a while, right?” Yours said. “Those Mechanics took us over to the de Young Museum and introduced us to these marble ladies, and see—”

“Alright!” You exclaimed. “Feel free to stop there.”

“Hank!” The other angel, Chuck, laughed. “They’re kids, man.”

“Oh, right. Back to flying.”

They sped up. The snowy mountains fell away soon enough and transformed into farmland and roads, and then the city.

It turned quiet after a while. Thalia muttered to herself. Grover played his pipes quietly, and Zoe pegged a bullseye on ever my Target you passed.

“Hey.”

You looked down, with hesitancy. Percy was looking up.

“Sup?”

You pressed your lips together, thinking. “You think that was really my mom back there?”

He didn’t talk for a few seconds. “Maybe. I mean, I just…I had a feeling. But…”

Percy’s unsureness didn’t put yours off. Because the more you thought about it, the more you had a feeling you were right.

The angels landed on a ferry dock, once in San Francisco. You scared a homeless man, who ran off yelling about metal angels from mars.

Only when it was quiet and still, did you wonder what next?

You looked between your friends, all appearing as stuck as you.

What Percy said next struck you.

“Look, guys,” he said almost hesitantly. “I haven’t mentioned this before, but, uh, halfway down here, I had a dream. I talked to Apollo in it, and he said something about finding this monster.”

“What kind of monster?” Thalia eyeballed him.

“I’m not sure.” Percy shrugged. “He just said it would help us find our way. Nereus, I think he was called.”

“Nereus, eh?” Zoe pulled a disgusted face.

“The old man of the sea,” said Percy.

“You know him?” Asked Thalia.

“My mother was a sea goddess. Yes, I know him. Unfortunately he is very hard to find. Just follow the smell.”

You all strolled across the pier to a charity shop hosting cardboard boxes of free clothes for the homeless outside. You were confused as Zoe stopped outside of it and turned to face you all.

“Trust me,” she said, talking to Percy, who instantly pulled a mistrusting face, mouth curved unhappily. “Put these on.”

She dressed him in too-big pants, a ragged flannel shirt and shoes that made him look like an improvising clown, lost from the circus.

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your mouth at the sight of him. Even Grover was holding back a smile. Percy was not by any means impressed.

Zoe stepped back and looked him over, and then nodded, impressed. “A typical male vagrant.”

“Thanks a lot,” he grumbled. “Why am I doing this?”

“I told thee; to blend in.”

Zoe led the way down to the water-front. After a long time of her searching for something, she finally stopped, and turned to Percy. She pointed to a group of homeless guys huddled together with blankets.

“He will be down there somewhere,” she said. “He never veers far from the water. He likes to sun himself during the day.”

“How do I know which one is him?” Asked Percy. You nodded, looking at Zoe.

“Sneak up. Act homeless. You will know who he is. He…he smells different.”

“Great. And once I find him?”

“Grab him. And hold on. He will try anything to be rid of thee. Whatever he does, do not let go. Force him to tell thee about the monster.”

Ah. The monster, which nobody had mentioned to you. Just another punch to the chest.

“We’ve got your back,” said Thalia, reaching out and picking something off of Percy’s new—well, reused—shirt. She gagged. “On second thought, I don’t want your back. But we’ll be rooting for you.”

Percy huffed, looking the least happy you’d ever seen him. He turned to you, and offered a tight-mouthed smile. More of a grimace.

“Any advice?”

“I’ve stopped all that. It doesn’t seem to be getting us anywhere good. Just do you.”

The rest of you observed your friend as he wandered down the dock, looking lost and confused. Eventually, Percy left your line of sight, and you found a nice spot on the floor to rest a while.

A ruckus a few yards away caught your attention. You looked at Thalia, who hummed. Then her eyes went wide, and the shouts of anger turned into awe.

“Whoa!”

You turned, mouth agape, as a giant killer whale came burst out of the water and feet into the air. Percy gave you all a little wave, before plunging into the sea.

“Well. At least we know he’s fine.”

It wasn’t long before Percy wrestled the old man to the surface. Thalia tapped your arm. “Let’s go!”

“You got him!” Zoe yelled. The four of you sprinted down to Percy.

“You don’t have to sound so amazed,” he said.

Even from a foot away, the smell of gross seaweed and dried up something filled your nose. You wanted to gag. Nereus groaned. “Oh wonderful, an audience for my humiliation. The normal deal, I suppose? You’ll let me go if I answer your questions.”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“Only one question per capture!”

Percy’s silence followed with his sigh. “Alright, Nereus. Tell me where to find this terrible monster that could bring an end to the gods. The one Artemis was hunting.”

“Oh, that’s too easy,” Nereus grinned evilly. “He’s right there!” Nereus pointed at the water by Percy’s feet.

“Where?”

“The deal is complete!”

With a plop, he turned into a goldfish and summersaulted into the sea.

“Wait!”

“Stop!” Thalia shoved forward. “What is that?”

“Mooooooo!”

You blinked. Maybe you weren’t insane at all. The serpent-cow swam around in the water, giving Percy the puppy dog eyes.

“Ah,” he grimaced. “Bessie, not now.”

“Moooo!”

“He says his name isn’t Bessie,” Grover said.

“You can understand her…I mean, him?”

Grover nodded. “It’s a very old form of animal language, but he says his name is Ophiotaurus.”

“The what?”

“It means serpent-bull in Greek.” Thalia said. “But what’s it doing here?”

“Moooo!”

“It says Percy is it’s protector.”

You scoffed, playfully. “Percy couldn’t protect a teddy bear.”

“Hey!”

“He’s running from bad people. He says they’re close.”

Thalia’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “And you somehow forgot to mention this before?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I know this story!” Zoe said suddenly. She snapped her fingers. “From the War of the Titans. My father told me this tale thousands of years ago. This is the beast we are looking for.”

Your gaze dropped to the doe-eyed creature swimming in urgent circles. It mooed sadly. You eyed it sceptically.

“Bessie?” Percy’s tone of voice told you he had the same thought. “But…he’s too cute. He couldn’t destroy the world…”

“This is how we were wrong,” Zoe persuaded. “We had been expecting a great monster of terrible power. But the ophiotaurus can not harm the very way that other creatures do. He must be sacrificed.”

“I don’t think he likes the S-word,” Grover muttered.

Percy knelt, the damp ground around him soaking into his jeans and drying instantly. He reached out a hand, and scratched the creature’s head. “How could anyone hurt him? He’s harmless.”

Zoe nodded. “But there is power in killing innocence. Terrible power. The Fates ordained a prophecy eons ago, when this creature was born. They said that whoever killed the Ophiotaurus and sacrificed its entrails to fire would have the power to destroy the gods.”

“MMMMMM!”

“Um,” Grover said. “Maybe we could avoid talking about entrails, too.”

Thalia stared at the cow serpent with wonder. “The power to destroy the gods . . . how? I mean, what would happen?”

“No one knows,” Zoe said. “The first time, during the Titan war, the Ophiotaurus was in fact slain by a giant ally of the Titans, but thy father, Zeus, sent an eagle to snatch the entrails away before they could be tossed into the fire. It was a close call. Now, after three thousand years, the Ophiotaurus is reborn.”

Thalia sat down on the dock. She stretched out her hand. Bessie went right to her. Thalia placed her hand on his head. Bessie shivered.

“We have to protect him. If Luke gets hold of him…”

“Luke wouldn’t hesitate,” you said. You didn’t know him well, not the way Percy or Thalia did, but you knew that much. And, even if you didn’t, you could sense it. “The power to overthrow Olympus? That’s…that’s huge.”

“Yes.”

A hand clapped down on your shoulder. You pulled away, walking backward into Grover. Your heart thudded painfully.

There, before you, stood Dr. Thorn, eyes glinting menacingly.

“And it is a power you shall unleash.”

oh. my. gods. it’s quite literally been months. and I didn’t even finish this chapter. I just needed to get something out.

I’m so sorry for the absence.

taglist: @bl6o6dy @lilyevanswhore @embersparklz @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @crackerphobic20 @mata0-0mata @jccc1000 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138

[whorhees]

Ghost from your past {Creed III}

Adonis x wife! oc x onesided! Dame

Description: Spoilers for Creed 3. Jade, Adonis, and Dame were all friends when they were teenagers. However, things changed when they all grew apart. Adonis and Jade were able to rekindle their love for each other and even start a family, they get revisited by a ghost that they’ve been trying to forget about.

Authors note: I’m mentally ill for these men so I wrote more self indulgent shit. I’m gonna see how many chapters I can string out, it’s pretty weird that I’m going in reverse anyways but who cares.

{face claim @/aerincreer on Instagram}

Jade sat in her window, staring out at the street.

It was about nine pm, and nothing good happens on the streets of LA past eight. But she was waiting for something, more like someone.

Just then, the lights of a car slowly pulled into view and stopped in front of her house. She grins, leaving her window seat to go downstairs. She tip-toed past her father sleeping on the couch and walked out the front door. She had to push open her gate so it wouldn’t make a loud noise if she punched in the code. Afterward, she ran up to the car and leaned in the roll-down window.

“What you sneakin' around for shawty?” Dame grins as he stared at the light skin girl. “I was just comin' by and seein if you were up. Don’t you got class in the morning?” “Both of y’all got class in the morning” She props her arm up on the window, glancing over at Adonis. He was always nervous to talk to her, even after all these years. “Hey Donnie, why so quiet?” The boy cleared his throat, shaking his head. “That’s funny coming from you. Didn’t you just start learning how to talk?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Yeah, six years ago. Shut up. Where y’all rolling off to?” “My match,” Dame says proudly, tapping the bag that Adonis had on his lap. “I’m ready to win baby” “Ooh! Can I come? Please?” Jade smiles, leaning towards the back seat. “You said one day I can see your boxing matches, come on Dame!” “Nah Shawty” Jade frowns, her bottom lips forming into a pout. “Why not? C'mon, you promised!” “I know I did. I keep my promises baby, You’ll see me. Check it” Dame fully turns towards her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“You’ll see me, my face plastered everywhere. My name on them announcement posters like Mike Tyson, and, you’ll be there front row when I beat his ass. You and Donnie” Jade’s smile began to grow on her face. Her head cocked to the side, “You better not be lying. Because I still think it’s unfair that I can’t see you fight” Jade backed away from the car, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

“Bet. The same spot as always” He nodded, putting the car in drive. “Now sneak back into your castle Rapunzel” Jade flipped Dame off before sneaking back into the gates, locking them behind her.

Adonis looked at Dame, nearly having stars in his eyes. “..Cause one day, I’m gonna save you” He pulled away from Jade’s house and went into the main road. “You like her?” Adonis asked, staring out the rearview mirror. “…Something like that.” Dame turns to his friend and grinned. “When I make it, I’ll do my thing with you, bro. Scoop out some ladies, then settle down with her.

I have it allll planned out”

“Come on Honey and Blue” Jade walked out with dry towels as the twins climbed out of the pool. She promised them that on the first warm day, they could do so, but it was drawing close to the sun setting. “Your dad is going to be home soon” Blue removes his goggles. “Will I get to show him my picture I made today?” “Of course, after you take a bath” Blue grins and ran into the house to a bathroom. Jade turns to her daughter, quiet like always. She signs to her.

‘What’s wrong?’

Honey glanced at her, shaking her head. She moved closer to her mother and leaned into her. Now she got it, she missed Adonis. That’s all. “Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon” Jade picks up the little girl and took her to the bathroom.

Hours passed and Adonis wasn’t home, it was weird. He would usually call if he was going to be at the gym late. She sat on the couch with the twins, watching Blue’s favorite Tv show while honey curled up next to her. The front door finally opened and Jade stood up. “I’ll be back, Blue watch your sister” “Okay mama”

Jade walked down the steps to the front door, her arms crossed. “And where were you?” Adonis turns towards her, a smile on his face. “Baby-“ “I called you multiple times Adonis. You had me worried sick!” Jade playfully smacked his arm. “You aren’t gonna believe who I ran into” Jade tilts her head, her eyebrows knitted together with confusion. “Who?”

“Man…This place is nice…” Jade peered passed her husband, her arms dropping to her side and her eyes widened. “What’s up lil lady?” “Dame…?” He smiled, walking passed Adonis. “At least someone remembered me first. No bullshit” He held his arms out, looking at the woman. “What? No hug for me?” Jade had conflict in her eyes. “Yeah, of course!” She hugged the man, it was strange. Seeing him after all these years.

“And who are these little rascals?” Jade’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back from the hug. She turned around and stared at the twins who stood there, Honey held her brother’s hand who greeted the stranger with a hard unwelcoming stare. “Oh, Dame. These are the twins, Honey and Blue” “Twins…y’all had twins?” Dame crouched down to the height of the children, extending his hand. “Im Uncle Dame”

Blue looked at his parents, his glare didn’t falter. “You’ll have to forgive them. The twins aren’t too fond of strangers” Dame chuckled and stood back. “It’s cool, I would be lookin at a nigga weird if someone I aint know was in my house” Jade glanced at Adonis before walking over to the twins. “It’s bedtime babies, I’ll be up soon okay?” Jade moved Blue’s face gently to look at her. “Okay?”

“…okay” Blue took Honey’s hand and lead her to their shared bedroom.

“How is it possible that they both like you and Adonis? That’s just crazy” Dame turned back to the couple that stared awkwardly at him. “Dame, how have you been? Would you like some dinner?” “Oh please, I would love to” Dame took off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack near the door. “I’ve been cool, Just got out. Tryin' to get my PO off my back” “That’s good…” Jade led the two men to the kitchen, and the chef was finishing up the meal. “Yeah, how have you been Jade?”

“I’ve been okay” Jade moved to put the plates on the table for the three of them. “Got your modeling career off the ground? I had all your shoots when I was in the pin” Jade sat beside her husband. “Did you? I always look at my early work and cringe a bit” “Nah, you still look as good as the last time I saw you” Dame watched as the chef poured the food onto his plate. “Private chef, glass floors…yall really went all Hollywood huh” Adonis chuckled and reached for his fork. “Yeah, I guess you could say that”

“No really, you guys don’t come around the hood no more.” Jade sighed as she picked with her food. “Nothing is for us there anymore. Times changed Dami” Dame smiled, pointing his fork at the girl. “Not long enough if you still callin' me Dami. It’s fine”

It was a long awkward silence, mainly on Jade and Adonis’s part. They didn’t know what to say to the man, he felt like a stranger again. The boy they grew up with, someone they just locked away and tried to forget about…he’s here in their house. “So, what do you plan on doing now that you’re out?” “I want to get back in the game” Jade rose her eyebrow. “The game…As in boxing?” Dame smiled. “Yeah, Adonis promised to put me on”

Jade side-eyes her husband quickly. “Did he…” “I told him I’ll see what I can do” Adonis corrected them, stuffing his face full of food. “Okay,” Jade pushed her plate away. She suddenly lost her appetite but she decided to look at the two men. “You know you can always come to us if you need something” “You don’t need to worry about me, Jade. I’ll get it all together” Jade stood up and gave Dame another hug before going upstairs to check on the kids.

~

Jade sat on the edge of the bed biting her thumb, she couldn’t sleep. She was on edge, her heart ridden with guilt. The door creaked open and she turned her head, Adonis stood in the doorway. “Hey,” He came over and sat beside her, leaning his head on her shoulder. “God I feel so horrible” She mutters quietly. “I stopped writing him a few years ago around the time me and you were getting together, I just couldn’t-“ “Hey, Hey” He grabbed her shoulders, making Jade look at him.

“It’s not your fault…You did more than me” Adonis kissed her forehead. “I never even got any of his letters.” Jade took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright…What did you promise him?” Adonis rubbed the back of his head. “Dame wants a shot in the world league to get the belt” “What?” Jade said astonishingly. “We’re getting old, even you are retired! Dame wouldn’t even have a shot against half those young guys now” “Way to have faith in him” Adonis chuckled. “Faith? I’m being real.” “The man said he kept himself in shape, so we can see”

Jade fell backward on their bed, sighing. “Just…Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You…We don’t owe him that much just because we knew him” Adonis stared at his wife as she pulled the blanket on herself. “At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. I’m gonna come by the gym tomorrow to see so myself” Adonis kissed her forehead, stroking her face. “It’s going to be okay…I’m going to check on the kids” Jade snuggled deeper into the blanket. “Mhm…Okay”

Jade tried to fall into a deep sleep, but her thoughts couldn’t help but linger on her old friend. I don't owe him anything, she tried to convince herself. He made that decision by himself, she reminded. But god, it didn’t help her from feeling less bad.

[lunarw0rks]

Torn | Part Two

Summary: You're Philip Graves' secret lover, and it's complicated, to say the least. When your new 141 ally, Simon Riley, catches your eye, you're forced to make a decision.

Warning(s): canon-typical violence, strong language, death, mild injury/blood mention, slightly suggestive content

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Still unsure of this chapter, but nonetheless, here it is.

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GRAVES MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter | ao3 ver.

You knew what you signed up for when you joined Shadow Company, hand selected by Graves himself. It was mercenary work; unconventional jobs, covert ops, the works—that you could handle. But you couldn’t handle how it's changed him.

Maybe that was on you for being seduced by the boss, or maybe it was on him. The blame game you were beating yourself up with wasn’t aiding any of it.

Still, the thoughts that swarmed you the previous night—they were truly wrong. At least that was what your guilt was telling you. Graves? Hell, he never needed to know. He had just as much a roaming eye when it came to other women.

Infidelity should’ve been the least of your concerns, considering you were assisting your new allies in a high-priority op. You were quite literally putting on the gear that would protect you, triple checking your pack, and most of all stifling your own roaming eye.

Simon—or, Ghost—was the object of your fantasies, and you didn’t feel as horrible about that as you should’ve, despite all the internal conflict you were feeling. And now, to be standing next to the bloke, it was torturous.

Another second with Graves, you would’ve ripped his head off his shoulders and ran for the hills, so you would much rather suffer in silence as your eyes ogled. But this allyship would end one day, you’d go back to working with Shadow Company, and surely the kinks would work themselves out without further issue…

“You’re with me today.” Simon picks up his rifle, motioning his head in the direction of the door. You expected him to already be striding down the hall, but he was waiting for you to finish gathering your gear. Perhaps, he took pity on your widened gaze—God, if only he knew the reason why.

The heavy backpack found your shoulders, then you found your own piece, nodding for his speedy steps to lead you out of the armory.

His feedback crackled through the earpiece when he tested the sound, allowing you to hear the chatter of the other units, the other pairs assisting on this op, and most interestingly, Graves himself.

“You boys almost there?”

“Five minutes out. Nearly there.” Ghost answers him before you can, an act you’re immensely thankful for, though Graves would’ve said something so bland there was no chance it would raise anyone’s suspicion.

The ride is short; Simon looks out the window on his side, gun resting between his widespread legs. You, sneaking glances when you can, taking advantage of how he’d zoned out after minutes of unpaved road stretching. Finally, the small hideout revealed itself—the closest hint to Hassan’s location as of late. Surely, this couldn’t be it, given the small scale of the building. Graves wouldn’t waste resources and bring you here if it wasn’t, though. One look at Captain Price, and you knew he was for no-nonsense either.

None of it made sense to you, but you didn’t have the authority to question it.

You follow orders, get blacklisted, or end up dead in the dirt your combat boots are crunching in right this second. Simon led, making use of the buddy system formation—a diagonal line formation where you could watch each other’s six. His gun raised to the windows of the home, examining the lights illuminating the top floor, and most of all the silhouettes cast on the sheer curtains.

It’s an older-style home, surely not easy to maintain stealth with all the creaks of wood, and the tired settling frame when there’s the slightest movement. But with Ghost in front of you, you felt safer than you ever did when Graves led you in formation. You wished that didn’t make you feel so bad as it did to admit, downright queasy.

“Watch the kitchen.” His harsh tone stirred you out of your inner monologue, which resembled more of a melting pot of guilt and dwindling self-respect.

You aim your rifle in the direction of the kitchen, an L-shaped one with the original cabinets untouched and unpainted. A shotty pendant illuminated it, casting a golden tint on the entire downstairs. It wasn’t much of a house and definitely wasn’t one Hassan would use to hide. No armed guards, no booby traps, no suspicious documents in your or Simon’s sight.

It felt… unorthodox.

Cups of coffee sat on the tiny dining table, but they weren’t steaming. They were clearly left there longer than an hour, more than enough time for any useful informants to be found by now. You were there too late, you were sure of it. Despite how calm and quiet Ghost had been, it was clear his expectations were let down as well.

It was up the stairs next, the most nail-biting portion so far. Simon’s barrel eyed the landing, yours did the hall at the top. Someone was in the front room up here, that silhouette couldn’t have been a figment you both laid eyes on.

His boot nudged each door of the hall, as to prevent a stray bullet hitting something vital if he were to put his whole frame in the way of the arch. But there was nothing; not a sound. Doors left opened partially, but no sign of the figure you both saw outside.

“Stay on your toes.” Ghost whispers, his husk sending a chill up your spine for two different reasons. His gloved hand found the knob, a cringe-worthy squeak when the hinges moved. Your eyes stayed on your behind, down the stairs and the window in the hall, watching for something—any movement.

He crept inside, you walking backward and using only the sound of his steps to guide you when to step.

It was an office of some sort, meant to be the master bedroom of the quaint home. Instead of a bed, there was a mess piled on top of what once was a desk. Papers, jars of chemical substances, pliers, and tools alike—someone’s twisted version of arts and crafts.

Simon snapped his fingers, pointing towards the closet—the final hiding spot you were sure was empty. But the doors were shut, shut all the way, unlike all the other doors in this home. You silently crept ahead, one hand sliding open the pocket doors. You weren’t sure what to expect; opening the doors could trigger a trap or there really could be someone waiting for you.

But, it was empty; an empty closet, not a single hanger or box of clutter stored within it.

As suddenly as you felt it, there was the whizz of a silenced bullet. A sharp pain in your side, a force that knocked you to the ground of the bedroom, but there was no oozing blood from your chest—only a dreadful burn. Your vest had absorbed it, but the pain reminded you of the purple welt that would reside there if you got out of this obvious trap alive.

Simon knelt in front of the window, his rifle mounted against it as he watched for the source. “Stay down, Private!” They weren’t too deep in the hills, the shot came too quick and it was too straight. They could’ve been as close as the brush at the neighboring home.

Your gun had left your hands, and frankly, you weren’t sure your torso could bear the weight of it right this second. That’s when you spotted it—eyes glowing from under the table in the corner, blinking and making a slow movement out from under the shadows. A hand crept out, still maintaining eye contact. 

You found the thigh holster, grabbing your pistol. Whoever it was, they darted out from under the surface, about to ambush Ghost’s distracted state. There was no time to alert him verbally, and you couldn’t manage anything but pained groans right now.

It was pure instinct, how quickly you aimed and took your shot.

The man slumped against the chair in the corner, a smoking hole in his head. Simon turned, ears ringing and head screaming. You’d saved his life, a dangerously close shot you decided to take while writhing in pain. “Christ!” He bellowed, gun aimed at the lifeless hostile with a splatter of crimson behind his head.

Simon’s eyes widened, but there was no time for gratitude or shock. He somehow moved quicker than you on your sharpest day, finally taking a shot at the sniper that hit you. Ghost’s fingers found the button on the radio as quickly as they pulled the trigger—deadly timing.

“Two hostiles down; a sniper and an unknown.” He then bent down in front of you, handing you the gun that was sent flying when you hit the ground. A firm hand found your wrist, yanking you to your feet. 

No warm words, only a slightly softened look. There were more significant issues on his mind, reasonably so, considering you just saved his ass.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

—

You peered at your bare, battered chest as soon as you made it to the privacy of your temporary barrack. With a swab, you dabbed at the welt now formed, a nasty purple bruise surrounding it from the sheer speed and force of the sniper bullet.

You were lucky there was such low visibility that night, that the ambush wasn’t better calculated, otherwise you would’ve ended up with a bullet in your head too. It could’ve been much, much worse than it was, but that didn’t ease the wince in your face.

A bandage would do—one you slapped on with little care for how it looked. You had gotten out alive, as did Ghost, all your doing. It was as if the minute you returned to base, that irrational guilt gnawing at you returned, as did the thoughts.

But you needed to get out there and attempt to keep appearances. So you did, returning to the hall of the briefing room. Shadows and 141s alike, most in their own corners working or talking business for the following day.

You’d spotted his head of hair in the crowd, surrounded by a portion of the Shadows under his control.

“Can I speak to you, Commander?” You said, urging him to turn around and stop whatever smug pastime he was retelling for them. He was much too nonchalant, considering how unsuccessful and risky today was.

He turned and nodded, following you out to the hall willingly, though he gave his men a look that said he dreaded your presence. It was for the act—right?

You used to convince yourself that, but it was abundantly clear that something was wrong with him, the way he felt toward you today. He was… hardened and stern, more than he had ever been, even when you two weren’t fraternizing.

“Heard you took one today.” Graves patted your chest, a futile attempt to lighten your mood. Though, his hand smacking your chest only made you want to keel over and sob from how tender the spot was.

You weren’t ‘feeling the love’ or in any mood for his smugness right now. “Tell me about this op.” You cut off his sneer with an icy glare. “Not the bullshit you told us this morning, the truth. You and Shepard.”

Graves scoffed as if you had personally insulted his entire bloodline. “Excuse me?” Yes, it was his company. Yes, you were lower in the chain of command than him. No, it wasn’t his right to dangle his Shadows in front of danger like a meat to a hungry dog.

It was clear, or should’ve been, that this wasn’t your uniform speaking to him—it was you just as much. Before you spoke, you watched each side of the hall to ensure there weren’t listeners. “You’re… different, and I don’t like being in the dark.” His lies stuck out like a sore thumb, no matter how well he thought he was at hiding his true motivations.

Something was very wrong here, something even the 141 wasn’t privy to.

“You’re treading on thin ice right now, Shadow.” He tightened his lip into his signature pout, your words unable to budge him. There were no eavesdroppers, nor cameras in view, so why the hell was he talking to you like your boss? There had always been that line there—where and when he would drop the act. But he didn’t, and it made the figurative knife twist further.

“You nearly got us killed, Phillip. Tell me what the hell is going on!” You hissed, your voice emulating a hushed outcry concealed by gritted teeth.

His hands found the flesh of your shoulder, backing you against the wall behind you. “Following fucking orders, that’s all you need to know! Got it?” His fingertips dug into your flesh, tightening when his stare deepened.

The smack moments ago was nothing compared to this—this hold dared your knees to buckle beneath you. But you couldn’t, not with how hard you’d clenched your jaw. It was anger disguised by betrayal, the betrayal of him pulling rank on you. 

He had plans, that much was abundantly clear. If he was willing to grabble you here, how much danger were these plans going to land you in?

You tore his iron grip off your shoulder, holding the tender spot, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Commander.” If he was going to hide behind formalities, so would you.

He slammed the door to the briefing room, though it was muffled by the overlapping conversation he’d returned to.

You were baffled; he had backed you into a corner—literally and figuratively. You, the one he once desired so badly, until he pushed you aside like an afterthought.

Whatever this was, it was long dead.

TAGLIST: @redhoodxsupergirl @noasaltacc

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 3

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After helping Rick save one of his group members from an unlikely hostage situation, Iris is introduced to the camp. Yet, a happy reunion may be overshadowed by looming danger. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; descriptions of gore, violence, zombies, death, mourning, digging graves, handling of dead bodies, injury, infection

Chapter 3 - The Group

"Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Glenn teased as they walked under the overpass. He was surprisingly chipper despite the hostage situation. The overpass came off the interstate into the city, and supposedly where he parked their van every time he came into the city for a run.

"Don't tell anybody." Rick replied with a smile. Iris walked quietly beside T-Dog, an uncertain feeling curling up at the base of her skull. She hoped more than anything that this group could be something good. Like Guillermo said, there were too many bad people left. 

"You've given away half our guns and ammo." Daryl grumbled.

"Not nearly half." Rick replied.

"For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow?" He asked. 

"Seriously, how long do you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?" Rick retorted. They walked around a bus that blocked their path, only to find no van waiting on the other side. Iris watched as their faces fell.

"Oh my god." Glenn mumbled.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl asked.

"We left it right there, who would take it?" Glenn wondered.

"Merle." Rick answered firmly.

"Your brother?" Iris asked, frowning at Daryl. He nodded, sucking on a tooth.

"Yeah. He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp." He replied. Iris glanced around at their current surroundings, her eyes landing on an SUV not far from the train tracks. She ran for it, finding a wooden stick spearing through the windshield, a walker pinned to the driver's seat. 

"What are you doing?" Glenn called.

"Wanna get back to your camp or not?" She called back. With a sharp stab she killed the walker through the open window, opening the door to tug him out. Daryl jogged over, opening the other door and beginning to kick the broken windshield out. He popped the hood, checking it over as Iris ducked under the steering wheel and pulled wires.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Rick asked, he and the others having decided to join in. 

"Gonna arrest me if I tell you?" Iris asked, the engine roaring to life. He said nothing as she sat up. "Wouldn't be the first time." She answered simply. Glenn got in the drivers seat, all of them rushing on borrowed time.

It was dark by the time they pulled into the side road toward their camp. They were halted only by the sound of gunshots, screaming. A few walkers wandered down toward the car, but Iris' sinking feeling was coming to a head. They spared no time in jumping out, guns blazing. Iris followed Rick past tents and small clearings to a fire pit and an RV. 

There were children screaming as the adults shot the walkers down one by one, making use of their new guns. There were already people on the ground, the walkers feasting on fresh flesh.

"Baby! Carl!" Rick yelled, running into the fray. The survivors were huddled around the RV as Iris and Daryl shot out the rest of the walkers, bloodied and horrified. 

"Dad!" A young boy yelled, sobbing as he ran into Rick's arms. A woman with long brown hair collapsed into them both. Iris glanced nervously at the ruined camp, the sobbing kids. Some of the adults hadn't made it. Glenn was panting, his voice hoarse with panic as his knuckles turned white, gripping the gun. Iris put a hand on his shoulder, trying to even out her own breathing.

"Jesus." She whispered, wiping her blood coated knives on a dead walker's shirt.

The little boy, Carl, was sobbing into Rick's chest. A young blonde woman was kneeling beside the RV, the bloodied body at her feet sporting the same head of blonde hair.

"I remember my dream now. Why I dug the holes." A man said lowly, his face splattered with blood.

-

The Georgia sun was hot up here, beating down as the cicadas sung. It made the bodies smell worse. Iris hadn't taken the time to meet anyone, knowing they needed time to grieve. Daryl was making sure each of the bodies had a hole in their heads, a pickaxe being his tool for the job.

None of them had to ask, Iris just started burning bodies. She took extra care of the bodies that were wrapped, knowing it was one of theirs. Iris knew it might be easier for her to bury them than for them. She helped T-Dog carry them to the bed of a pickup truck, then they would cart them to a hilltop with an unorganized smattering of human-sized holes. 

She approached Rick, his wife, and a few other people she hadn't met as Daryl stormed away from them. Apparently his preferred coping mechanism was to be an angry pain in the ass. A man with dark hair and a t-shirt with the sheriff's logo turned to her first, a frown seemingly sewn into his eyebrows. The second was an older man in a bucket hat, a Bermuda shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders. He walked over, a grim smile on his face.

"I'm afraid we can't roll out much of a welcome wagon." He said with a somber tone. "I'm Dale."

"Iris." She replied, shaking his hand. 

"This is Shane," He introduced, gesturing to the dark-haired man, "and that's Lori and Carol.” He gestured to the woman with the long brown hair, Rick's wife, and her foil with a shaved head and grey hair. He pointed to each of the living people, listing names, but his voice began to waver, and he stopped to clear his throat.

"I'm sorry about your people." Iris said quietly. Shane nodded stiffly, making piercing eye contact before turning away. "I'll do what I can."

"It's greatly appreciated." Dale nodded with a comforting smile.

"You reap what you sow!" Daryl called out, dropping a body.

"Shut up, man." Another man, Morales, huffed.

"Y'all left my brother for dead!" Daryl yelled, storming away, pointing in Atlanta's general direction. "You had this coming." Iris watched him go with a raised eyebrow. She pulled her bandana over her face as she knelt down to help a woman named Jacqui carry another body. She nodded in thanks, though the attempted smile didn't reach her eyes. They looked up as a guy named Jim stumbled toward them.

"Are you bleeding?" Jacqui asked, frowning at the spot of blood on his t-shirt. He panted a bit, shaking his head.

"I just got some on me from the bodies." He replied, waving it off. Iris faltered, eyeing him carefully. 

"That blood is fresh." She murmured.

"Were you bit?" Jacqui asked firmly.

"No, I got scratched during the attack." He assured.

"You got bit." She denied, shuffling to her feet. Iris' hand twitched toward her knife.

"I'm fine." Jim repeated.

"Then show me." Jacqui pleaded. Jim looked up, still panting hard.

"Don't tell. Please." He breathed.

"A walker got him!" Jacqui called, stumbling backward to the others. "A walker bit Jim!" Iris unsheathed her knife as they started to surround him, giving the stumbling man a wide berth, murmurs breaking out.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim assured.

"Show it to us." Daryl stated. "Show it to us." Jim stumbled, leaning down to grab a shovel in defence. "Grab him! Grab him!"

"Jim, put it down. Put it down." Shane called. T-Dog lunged at him, grabbing his arms and pulling them back.

"I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim repeated. Daryl ran forward and peeled his shirt up, revealing the angry red bite, already festering with infection. It was on his torso, leaving them no options for amputation. Daryl dropped the shirt, both him and T-Dog moving back as Jim muttered to himself, panting.

The group ushered Jim around the back of the RV, seating him on a bucket to wait for the group's decision. They gave him a water bottle, despite Daryl's grumblings at the waste of clean water. Iris wasn't scared, more concerned. Nothing like this had happened with her old group. They had all pretty much died at once. But she'd seen it happen. This was something they couldn't ignore, couldn't tolerate. He could kill them all.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head, and the dead girl's, and be done with it." Daryl murmured to the circle. 

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane snapped angrily.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." Daryl retorted quickly.

"I hate to say it-- and I never thought I would-- but maybe Daryl's right." Dale muttered.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick argued.

"I'm not suggesting--"

"He's sick. A sick man." He said firmly. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers. Or them to be." Daryl huffed.

"What if we can get him help?" Rick asked. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

"I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell." Shane grumbled.

"What if the CDC's still up and running?" Rick asked.

"Man, that is a stretch right there." Shane muttered.

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs, wouldn't they?" Rick proposed. "I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection, rescue--"

"Okay, Rick, you want those things, alright? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning." Shane argued.

"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction." Lori replied.

"That is right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there."

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that." Rick continued. "The CDC's our best choice and Jim's only chance.

"You go looking for aspirin. Do what you need to do." Daryl scoffed, turning away. He started toward Jim. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!"

"Hey hey hey!" Rick yelled, cocking his gun as Daryl raised the pickaxe to Jim. Shane got between them, protecting Jim. "We don't kill the living."

"That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head." Daryl snapped. Iris raised an eyebrow. He had a point. She turned to the others, murmuring quietly without the presence of the alpha males.

"I might be overstepping, and tell me if I am, but why don't you just ask Jim what he wants to do? He's not stupid. He has to know what it means. He might not make it to the CDC, even if they do have a cure." Iris stated.

"That's what I was insinuating when I said I agreed with Daryl, I just want to do what's right for the group, including him." Dale agreed. They all watched as Rick and Shane took Jim into the forest, tying him to a tree.

-

Iris sat on the edge of a hole, her legs hanging in a grave, trying to appreciate the irony. Shane and Rick seemed to be at each other's throats, the former not so happy they came back with her instead of Merle. Daryl backed his pickup truck toward the holes, the bed filled with the sheet-covered bodies of their dead. Iris stood, dusting off her gloves and pulling the bandana back up over her face.

"I still think it's a mistake, not burning these bodies." Daryl mused as he got out of the truck. “It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"

"At first." Rick replied.

"Glenn gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along?" Daryl continues. "These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."

"There are no rules." Rick replied. 

"Well that's a problem." Lori cut in. "We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do." Iris said nothing, grabbing onto a body, Glenn running up to take the other side. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, bearing witness to all these arguments. She felt like she was watching some twisted reality show. 

Once the rest of the bodies were buried, everyone stood aside to let Andrea, the blonde woman, bury her sister. She refused to let anyone help, dragging the dead weight across the ground, haphazardly stumbling. She practically fell into the grave, but the tear tracks on her face did more than enough convincing for them to leave her be. Dale tried desperately to help her, but she didn't want it.

A few of the others watching were crying too, stepping forward only to shovel dirt on top of the body. Once the hole was filled, they walked down the hill together, back to the camp. The sound of their footsteps were accompanied only by small sniffles and Andrea's sobbing. 

Iris sat down on a log beside the remains of the campfire as a few went into the RV to check on Jim. Lori brought Carol back out to let Rick talk to him. It was hard to watch. All of it. It was hard to be there. Iris knew Daryl held resentment for her, for not being his brother. All those people that died, only for her to show up out of nowhere. She didn't expect anything from them, helping where she could. 

After a few hours, the others joined her around the fire, gathering together as the sun began to set. Dale, Shane and Rick came out of the forest, Dale looking like he just saw a ghost, and Shane looking like he just lost an argument. They gathered around the others. Shane taking his spot at the head of the group.

"I've uh... I've been thinking about Rick's plan." He began. "Now, look, there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?"

The others said nothing, Shane's announcement earning only a few nods in agreement. Iris would follow the group wherever it went. She trusted Rick too, just not in the same way. And Shane would likely agree with Iris if she voiced out loud that Rick seemed a little optimistic considering their circumstances. Yet, every morning, he climbed that hill, speaking into a radio like it was keeping him sane.

The CDC seemed like a safe enough bet. The only issue was its location in the city. And if Rick happened to be wrong, and they all changed their minds, Fort Benning would be a far trip. Traveling in this world was hard. It was harder with kids. And this group had four, plus an injured man. Iris had to admit, the CDC was a long shot. But that seemed like the only kind they had.