#i want to never talk to people ever again and i want to talk to them every second of the day

[rafesangelita]

This idea has been stick in my head but I don’t got the skills to execute it.

Rafe dating a reader he calls “Angel” bc despite growing up with Rafe reader somehow has never done half of the crazy shit Rafe did. So reader is quite literally one of the few good thing going for him.

Until *dundundun*

Someone at a party convinces reader to try some drugs (Rafe as the controlling bastard he is, though that’s a good? thing in this case, doesn’t let reader do anything that isn’t weed) because Rafe must get tired of being around someone innocent. But when Rafe finds out what’s been done he’s rightfully pissed that someone tried to taint his angel.

warnings: childhood friends to lovers, drug use, peer pressure, coercion, manipulation, slight angst, crying, fighting, rafe is very overprotective, a little bit of rough handling, reader is described to be innocent and kind of sheltered, light fluff, reader freaks out when she realizes she’s high, reassurance + comfort

wc: 1.3k

‘innocent little y/n’— that’s what everyone called you when you were growing up. you never lied, you never stole, you were actually a tattletale and everyone hated you for it. because of that, no one ever wanted to be your friend, all except for rafe who had no idea why he felt the overwhelming need to protect you and keep you tucked into his side where you were ‘safe and sound’ from anyone who wanted to tease or be mean to you. it was rather easy since you found yourself following him around everywhere anyways.

your dynamic changed when you two got older and he had another threat to worry about that he didn’t have once before; and that was boys. he remembered hearing some of his friends talk about you in a way that had him throwing punches and getting suspended. once ward threatened him with military school on the mainland, he decided that the only way people with ulterior motives and sick and twisted minds would back off was if he stook his claim on you and let everyone know that you were his. and of course.. it worked.

no one knew how on god’s green earth you two ended up together. rafe was a hothead with a drug habit to match, and you were just there; oblivious to it all. you didn’t know anything about rafe’s little problem since he never did any lines or took rips from a bong in front of you. except for one time when he unintentionally got you high when you two were boxed in his truck and he decided to smoke since ward was on his ass and he needed it. he didn’t snap until he looked over at you and saw you spaced out, your eyes red and glossy as you played with the ends of your hair.

rafe was quick to throw out his joint before fanning the air and rolling down the windows. for the next hour he had to deal with your nonstop giggling and even went as far as getting you snacks from the food mart in a poor attempt to shut you up. “would you quit it already?!” he scolded you every time you tried to feed him whatever sweet you had in between your fingers. rafe vowed from that night forward that weed was the only thing he’d ever let you get high on. fortunately, he never smoked in front of you again and didn’t have to worry about that problem— until now.

“do you really think rafe wants to be with someone who’s boring? a little bit of blow isn’t the end of the world, angel.�� topper scooted closer to you on the couch, making sure to throw in the nickname rafe has had for you since you were kids. “i’m not boring..” you crossed your arms over your chest once you saw the way topper eyed your cleavage, your eyes searching the room for any sign of rafe. “you sure about that? why do you think rafe never does his shit in front of you? it’s cause you’re a fucking buzz kill.” topper opened up the tiny baggy of powder, a smug grin spreading across his lips once he saw you peer down in curiosity.

“rafe is a pretty crazy dude, wouldn’t he want a break from all of this ‘innocent’ shit? i bet you he’s no where to be found right now because he’s talking to another girl who actually knows how to have a good time.” he scoffed, his words making your eyes water. “just try it, baby, i think rafe would love to see you bouncing off of the walls for once,” topper opened the baggy, scooping some of the substance up with his pinky, “and you wanna know something else? this shit makes you go all fucking night long. rafe would definitely appreciate that..” you eyed topper’s hand as he brought it up to your eye level.

“i don’t know—” you backed away slightly before his fingertips were nudging your lips. “yes you do know, just snort it, come on,” you kept moving away until your back hit the armrest of the couch. topper had his pinky directly under your nostril, a sense of panic flooding your system as you attempted to turn your face away. topper only followed, cursing a ‘just fucking snort it already!’ before you succumbed and gave the substance the lightest sniff you could muster. in seconds, you screwed your eyes shut tight, the crunching sound of bone meeting bone making you yelp once you realized rafe’s fist planted into the side of topper’s face.

topper was immediately rendered unconscious, the partygoers nearby all gasping in unison. rafe grabbed your face, inspecting you quickly before he spotted the coke residue on the tip of your nose. “that sorry motherfucker..” he gritted his teeth, his vision growing blind with white hot anger. despite topper’s unconscious state, rafe still punched him until he drew blood, kelce, along with some of his other friends stepping in before things could get worse. “he’s down already bro, that’s enough!” kelce shouted, your boyfriend swatting away all of their hands until they were able to get him off.

getting out of their grip, rafe wasted no time in dragging you up by your arm, your legs shaking as he lead you two out of the crowded house and to his truck. “let me see you.” he pulled out his phone, flashing the light on your face. your pupils were blown to shit, your teeth clattering as you shivered in the chilly night air. “fuck, baby..” he felt guilty beyond words for thinking stepping away to get another drink— even if it was for a quick second, that leaving you alone was a good idea. “rafe, my heart is beating really fast!” you cried, grabbing his hand and placing it over your chest as your face twisted in horror.

“i know, i know, just try to stay calm, angel.” he placed you in the passenger seat, clicking your seatbelt in place before rushing around and peeling off in the direction of home. you were sweating now and panting as if you had just ran a marathon. rafe felt utterly helpless, the scared look etched into your usual soft and happy features made his gut wrench. he swore he would never do a line again even if his tolerance was already up there from years of experience. he hated seeing you like this. “he wouldn’t stop getting close to me, i didn’t know what else to do!” your leg was bouncing, your fingertips itching to move in anyway you could.

“don’t worry, we’re almost home.” he reassured you, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles before you could panic any further. once you two were in the driveway, rafe rushed you both inside, quickly starting a cold shower and cleaning you up. neither of you went to sleep until your high subsided a few hours later. during that time, rafe made you push down a lot of water along with eating something so you weren’t on an empty stomach. “everything is okay, alright?” rafe held you in his arms, a small hum sounding from your lips before you drifted off into a much needed slumber.

rafe watched you sleep and he couldn’t help but think of everything after this incident occurred. you were the only person in his life that wasn’t tainted in any way. the only good thing he had going for him. he couldn’t handle the thought of topper forcing his way over you and you sitting there helplessly, hoping he’d turn up soon. the thought made his fists clench again as he recalled the confused yet relieved look on your face once he was in your view. he made a promise to never leave you alone like that ever again.

gone were the days of attending pointless parties..

[drewsephrry]

Love Island: Episode 4

series masterlist

pairings: rafe cameron x fem!reader

words: 4.7k

warnings: sexual innuendos, alcohol consumption, cuss words

A heavy silence settles over the group as everyone turns to stare at Y/N.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asks, his brows furrowing. Y/N swallows, her eyes flicking between the people around her before landing back on the boy hugging Maddy below. She exhales sharply.

“That’s…my ex.”

“Holy shit!” JJ blurts out, earning a smack from John B, who looks just as stunned. Alyssa and Pope are too busy staring at the date happening downstairs, but the rest of the group is locked onto Y/N.

“How long ago did you two break up?” Topper asks, his gaze darting toward Rafe, who is eerily quiet.

“Like a year.” She reveals. Alyssa scoffs, finally looking away from the scene below.

“Crocs? Seriously?” She wrinkles her nose as she gestures toward Kelce’s choice of footwear. Despite the tension twisting in her chest, Y/N finds herself smiling, shaking her head at Alyssa’s reaction. JJ leans forward, curiosity getting the best of him.

“What’s he like?” He pauses, then adds quickly. “I mean, like…you know what I mean.” Y/N shifts on her feet, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s attention. She exhales.

“He’s funny. Loves to travel, so much so that he became a travel agent. He loves soccer. He’s really creative, always took me on the weirdest dates you could imagine.” Her voice softens and without realizing it, a small smile tugs at her lips.

Rafe clenches his jaw. He watches the way Y/N’s expression softens, the way her lips curve when she talks about Kelce. It’s not even what she’s saying, it’s how she’s saying it. There’s a warmth in her voice, a familiarity that Rafe can’t compete with.

It pisses him off.

He shouldn't care. He shouldn’t feel this tightness in his chest at the thought of Y/N and Kelce, of all the time they had before he even entered the picture. He knows it’s stupid. It’s not like she’s his. Not officially, anyway.

But fuck, he wants her to be.

He watches her, torn between wanting to pull her away and hating that he even feels this way in the first place.

When she finally turns back toward him, it’s like she can feel the weight of his stare. Her brows furrow slightly.

“You okay?” She asks, her voice gentle. Rafe forces a smirk.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” She studies him for a second longer before nodding.

“No reason.” She doesn’t push and that’s what kills him.

Because maybe, deep down, a part of him wants her to push. To tell him she doesn’t want Kelce anymore, that he has nothing to worry about. That she’s his, even though they’ve never actually said those words out loud.

Instead, he just watches as she looks back toward Kelce, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.

And Rafe feels that sharp twist in his chest again.

“Why’d you break up?” John B asks.

“That's not a nice thing to ask.” Sarah nudges him.

“No, it’s fine.” Y/N shakes her head. “We just wanted different things.” John B nods in understanding, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, I get that.” He murmurs.

Rafe doesn’t say a word. He barely moves, but Y/N can feel his stare burning into her. His arms are crossed now, fingers gripping his biceps a little too tightly. His gaze flickers between her and Kelce.

The dates finish and soon enough, the islanders head downstairs to meet Kelce. JJ, John B and Pope are the first to approach, radiating their usual friendly, easygoing energy as they introduce themselves. Topper and Rafe follow, but there’s an undeniable shift in the atmosphere. There’s something about the way they move, less welcoming. When Kelce shakes Rafe’s hand, Rafe tightens his grip just a little too much. But Kelce doesn’t even flinch. He holds his ground, just as confident as ever.

The girls follow behind, Kiara’s fingers wrapped around Y/N’s hand as they walk through the flower corridor toward the yard. Sarah steps forward, greeting Kelce with a hug. But when she pulls back, something changes.

Kelce’s wide eyes flick to Y/N.

“No way!” He murmurs. Y/N smiles softly, already anticipating what’s coming.

“Yes way.” She mutters. Kelce doesn’t hesitate as he rushes toward her, sweeping her off the ground in a tight hug. Y/N squeals, clinging to him instinctively. It’s warm, familiar. When he sets her down, his hands linger at her waist and his eyes search hers.

“What are you doing here?” He asks.

“The right question is, what are you doing here?” She teases, shoving him playfully. Maddy, watching the exchange unfold, furrows her brows.

“Uh…what is going on?” She glances toward Rafe, who still hasn’t moved. His arms remain crossed, jaw visibly tightening.

“That’s Y/N’s ex.” Rafe announces flatly, making Maddy’s eyes widen.

“What?”

“Wait…he is Kelce? Like, Kelce Kelce?” Cleo interjects. “Your ex Kelce?”

Y/N nods.

“You talk about me?” Kelce asks, smirking.

“Oh my god, not like that.” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes as she shoves him again. He stumbles back slightly, clutching his chest in mock offense.

Noticing the tension radiating off Rafe like a ticking time bomb, Pope clears his throat.

“Hey, why don’t we all move to the firepit?” He suggests, trying to redirect the energy. “Let Kelce get to know everyone.”

The group shuffles over, settling in with the boys on one side, the girls on the other and Kelce in the middle.

“So, what do you guys wanna know?” Kelce asks, fiddling with his mic. He’s still getting used to it and Maddy, sitting beside him, leans in to adjust it properly. He shoots her a grateful smile.

“Y/N already gave us the rundown, so I think we’re all set, bro.” JJ says casually.

The moment the words leave his mouth, Pope smacks him.

“JJ, what the fuck?” Kiara hisses, while Y/N lets out a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands.

“What?” JJ rubs his chest, looking genuinely confused. “I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.” Alyssa interjects, rolling her eyes. “Anyway. What are you looking for in the villa?” Kelce exhales, thinking for a second.

“Honestly, this past year’s been a lot of growth for me. I feel like…our breakup really changed me.” He admits, glancing at Y/N.

That gets her attention. She slowly lowers her hands, meeting his gaze. For a second, nobody moves. The world stops spinning.

Then, Rafe clears his throat.

“You, uh…didn’t actually answer Alyssa.” Rafe mutters, scratching the back of his head. Topper lets out a barely contained snicker. Kelce blinks, then nods.

“Right. Right. Okay, yeah. I want something real. A committed relationship. I wanna find my person. Someone I can have fun with, travel with-”

“You’re a travel agent, right?” John B cuts in, smirking and Kelce laughs.

“Yeah. Y/N told you?” He throws her a knowing look before redirecting. “But enough about me. Who’s coupled up with who?”

“I’m with Topper.” Sarah says, glancing at Topper who gives Kelce a brief nod. “Kiara’s with Pope, Cleo’s with John B, Maddy’s with JJ.” She continues. Kelce nods, then looks straight at Y/N.

“And you’re with Rafe?” He asks. Everyone’s gaze lands on her.

“Um…it’s complicated.” Y/N admits, shifting in her seat. “I was coupled up with him and things were going good between us. Still are! But-”

“Alyssa coupled up with him.” Pope finishes for her.

“Guilty!” Alyssa grins, raising her hand. A few chuckles ripple through the group, but Rafe isn’t amused. His gaze stays locked on Y/N, watching the way she keeps sneaking glances at Kelce. The way her fingers fidget. The way she looks at him. He knows that look. It’s the same one that’s been driving him crazy since she first stepped into the villa.

“So, you’re the only single one, huh?” Kelce teases, smirking.

“Kelce…” Y/N groans, rolling her eyes with a small smile.

“What? Just stating facts.” He lifts his hands in surrender. Then, his smirk softens into something more thoughtful.

“Listen, I’m happy for you. I really am. I’m moving on, too.” His voice is easy, but there’s something unreadable behind it.

“And hey, this goes for all of you. I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes.” A beat passes. “But, you know…if something’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. That's how the game works.”

Everyone nods and Rafe wonders if he’s the only one who hears the double meaning in those words.

Soon enough, the girls head inside to gossip with Maddy and Cleo about the dates, leaving the boys to get to know Kelce.

“Okay, spill!” Sarah says to Maddy, sitting down on her bed and pulling a pillow to cuddle. Y/N sits beside her, still unsettled by the whole situation.

“I will, but Y/N, are you alright?” Maddy asks and the girls turn to look at her. Y/N glances around like a lost puppy before nodding quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course. Everything is fine. Totally fine.” She exclaims.

“Say it one more time and we might actually believe you.” Kiara says, rolling her eyes. Y/N sighs.

“It's just…this was really unexpected.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “And he just seemed so…mature. So different from back then.”

“Like he grew up?” Cleo asks cautiously and Y/N nods.

“Yeah. I don’t know. It’s not like we had a messy breakup or anything. It’s just…” She takes a deep breath and Sarah reaches over to hold her hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it. Breakups, even mutual ones, hurt.” Sarah says gently and the girls nod, ready to comfort her.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Y/N reassures them. “When Kelce and I broke up, it felt like my whole world ended. I struggled a lot with being on my own because I was so dependent on him. It took me a long time to find my footing and become the person I am now. And seeing him again like this…it just made me wonder if it was as hard for him as it was for me.” She exhales, pressing her lips together for a moment.

“And not in a bitter way, like, ‘Oh, I hope he suffered.’” She clarifies quickly.

“It’s just…I loved him. I still have so much love for him. But if it didn’t hurt him like it hurt me…if he just moved on without a second thought, then what does that say about what we had? Or-or about me?” She lets the words linger in the air, staring at the blanket bunched up in her lap. The weight of her own thoughts makes her chest tighten.

“I know it’s selfish.” She continues, her voice quieter now. “I want him to be happy, I really do. But there’s a part of me that hopes it wasn’t easy for him. That it meant something. Because if it didn’t…if I was the only one who struggled, then maybe I was just easy to forget.”

The room is silent for a beat before Kiara scoffs, shaking her head.

“Y/N, that’s not how love works.” She says firmly. “Just because someone handles pain differently doesn’t mean they didn’t feel it. He could’ve been hurting just as much, just in his own way.”

“Exactly.” Cleo agrees. “And, honestly? You don’t owe it to your past self to keep wondering. You made it through. That’s what matters.”

Y/N lets their words settle, nodding slowly. She wants to believe them. Wants to believe that just because Kelce looks like he’s moved on, it doesn’t mean what they had wasn’t real. That it doesn’t mean she was the only one who lost something. Sarah gives her hand a small squeeze.

“It’s okay to feel this way. Just, don’t let it take away from how far you’ve come.” She exclaims and Y/N swallows past the lump in her throat, forcing a small smile.

“Yeah. You’re right.” She just wishes it was that easy.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Alyssa asks cautiously. Y/N fidgets with her ring, avoiding their gazes.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

“You don’t have to.” Maddy says quickly. Y/N exhales, forcing a small grin.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can avoid him in here.” She pauses, then backtracks. “Wait, no-I didn’t mean it like I am or was trying to avoid him. Outside of here, I mean.” Sarah chuckles, squeezing her hand.

“We get what you’re saying.” Then she makes a face. “Why is your hand so sweaty, dude?” Y/N jerks her hand back, wiping it on the blanket.

“Oh my god, sorry.” The girls giggle as she huffs dramatically.

“Look, unless he wants to talk, I don’t have anything to say to him.” She continues. “I’m moving on. I have a good thing going with-” She suddenly stops, eyes widening. “Oh my god. Did you see how Rafe reacted?”

The girls immediately nod.

“He was about to explode when he found out.” Alyssa says, shaking her head.

“Man, I wish I saw that.” Cleo groans.

“Wait, wait, we’re getting sidetracked.” Y/N says, holding up a hand. “We should really be talking about your dates.” The girls nod in agreement, the conversation shifting as Maddy and Cleo start recounting their dates with Kelce.

“He was so sweet. Like, actually listening to me, paying attention. It just felt different.” Maddy says, playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Ooh, someone’s got a crush!” Alyssa sing-songs and the girls erupt into playful cheers. Maddy rolls her eyes.

“I do not. I just…had a good time, that’s all.” She insists.

“Yeah, okay.” Sarah smirks. “You haven’t looked this excited since we got here. JJ’s never had you smiling like that.”

The girls hum in agreement.

“How are things with JJ, anyway?” Kiara asks, leaning into Alyssa.

“Uh…nice, I guess.” Maddy says, eyes flicking down to her nails.

“Not as nice as with Kelce.” Cleo teases, nudging her. Maddy shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. JJ’s funny, obviously super hot, but…I don’t know, I don’t think we really get each other.” She pauses, thinking. “Kelce, he just got here, but the vibe with him is…different.”

“Good different?” Y/N prompts.

“Really good different.” Maddy admits, nodding. “But I don’t know. I still need to think about it. And for all I know, he had more chemistry with Cleo.”

“Nope.” Cleo says immediately. Maddy raises an eyebrow.

“What do you mean? How was your date?” She asks and Cleo sighs.

“It was fun. Kelce is handsome and yeah, he’s got charm, but…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. He came off kinda arrogant? Like, it felt like he was showing off and I hate that.”

The girls exchange looks.

“I mean, I’m not writing him off completely.” Cleo continues. “I just wanna see how he acts in the next few days before I decide.”

They all nod, understanding.

“Do what feels right for you. For both of you.” Y/N adds.

Meanwhile, the guys are grilling Kelce, sizing him up as they try to figure out his intentions in the villa.

“So, Kelce, right?” Rafe leans back against the firepit, arms crossed, exuding confidence as he speaks. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s already trying to get a read on him. Kelce nods, offering a relaxed smile, but he knows exactly where this is going.

“Anyone caught your eye? Up till now, at least?” Rafe asks, the question hanging in the air just a second too long. Kelce chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He’s been in enough of these conversations to know what Rafe’s really asking. His eyes flicker toward him, measuring his expression before he answers.

“Look, man, if this is about Y/N, you don’t have to worry. I loved her and I’ll always respect our relationship, but it ended a long time ago. I’m not here to rewrite history or stir anything up. She’s moved on and so have I. Whatever’s going on between you two, that’s got nothing to do with me.” He pauses.

There’s no malice in his voice, no challenge, just honesty. A quiet confidence that says he’s not here to start drama. Whether Rafe believes him, though, is a different story.

“So, if you’re asking whether you should be watching your back, there’s no need to. Not because of me.” Kelce says, his tone even.

Rafe holds his gaze for a moment before nodding, seemingly satisfied, for now. John B clears his throat, cutting through the tension.

“Alright, but be honest, man. What did you think of the girls? Anyone catch your eye?” He asks, making Kelce chuckle and glance around.

“I mean, they’re all beautiful, no doubt about that.” He says and the guys nod in agreement. “But I had a really great time with Maddy. She’s…man, she’s gorgeous. And funny as hell, too.” His grin widens as he talks about her, the memory of their time together still fresh.

“Cleo’s great, don’t get me wrong.” He continues, his tone shifting slightly. “But something felt a little off during our date. Maybe it was just a bit awkward, I don’t know. Could’ve just been first-date nerves. Time will tell, I guess.”

The boys nod before they decide to show Kelce around the villa.

The night unfolds quickly and soon it’s party time for the islanders. The girls make their way downstairs, glammed up and glowing under the villa lights. As they step into the bedroom where the guys are getting ready, whistles and cheers erupt.

“Damn, looking good, mamas!” Kelce calls out, grinning and the girls laugh, twirling playfully before heading outside.

A table set with champagne flutes awaits them, the warm night air buzzing with energy. They each grab a glass as Topper lifts his in a toast.

“To our newest islander! Hope it’s a good summer for you, Kelso!” He announces, flashing a smirk. Kelce clinks his glass against Topper’s, eyes glinting with excitement.

“Oh, it’s gonna be a great one.” He replies, as the group cheers and takes a sip. Y/N adjusts her dress with her free hand, scanning the scene before her gaze lands on Rafe across the table. Taking a breath, she steps toward him.

“Hey.” She says softly. Rafe looks down at her, his expression unreadable. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything.

“Can we talk?” She asks, her brows furrowing slightly. Rafe exhales, noticing the concern in her eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah. Let’s.” He mutters, placing a hand on her waist as he guides her toward the daybed. They settle beside each other, Y/N’s fingers immediately finding the ring on her hand, twisting it absentmindedly.

“You do know I had no clue he was coming in here, right?” She says, glancing at him. Rafe sighs, rubbing his temples.

“I know. Of course, I know.” His voice is firm but tired. She studies him, hesitating before pressing further.

“Then…can you say something? Tell me how you feel? I just…I don’t know. You’re upset.”

“What do you want me to say?” Rafe snaps, his voice sharper than he intends. “How else am I supposed to feel? Of course, I’m upset.” Y/N exhales slowly, nodding.

“Okay and I get it. But don’t shut me out. You haven’t said a word to me since the terrace.” She drops her gaze, still fidgeting with her ring. Rafe watches her and something tightens in his chest. He runs a hand over his face before sighing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N.” His voice softens. “I’m not mad at you. Or him. He actually seems like a decent dude. But…” He hesitates, taking a deep breath. “The thought of you and him. It's just…knowing he’s been with you, that he knows you like that…” His jaw clenches. “I know I’m probably overreacting or-or that I shouldn’t feel like this. But I can’t help it.”

“You’re not overreacting.” She assures him, shaking her head. “Jealousy is valid.” Rafe cringes slightly at the word, but it’s true.

“I just…” He exhales, his fingers grazing his knee. “I know it’s still early, but I like you, okay? And the idea of another guy, Kelce, being with you, knowing you in ways I don’t yet…It just…it gets to me. And now that he’s here, I can’t help but worry.”

“You shouldn’t.” Y/N’s response is immediate, her voice steady. “You have nothing to worry about. Truly.” She turns toward him, her eyes sincere.

“Our relationship ended a long time ago and as much as I loved him and still do, in a way, I can’t let myself go back there. We’ve both moved on. I’m moving on. With you, Rafe.”

Rafe swallows, his gaze flickering to her lips before settling back on her eyes.

“Do you mean that?” He whispers. “I mean…do you want that? Moving on with me?” Y/N’s lips curl into a soft smile and she nods.

“I mean it.” She says simply. And just like that, something in Rafe eases.

Rafe studies her for a long moment, searching for any hesitation, any flicker of doubt in her expression. But there’s none. Just quiet certainty, a promise in the way she looks at him.

He exhales, tension leaving his shoulders as he leans back slightly, resting his arm along the back of the daybed. His fingers ghost over her shoulder, not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth of her skin.

“That’s…good to hear.” He murmurs, the weight in his chest loosening just a little. Y/N tilts her head, watching him.

“You don’t sound convinced.” She smirks.

“It’s not that.” Rafe says, shaking his head. “It’s just-” He pauses, rubbing his jaw, before glancing back at her. “I didn’t expect to feel this way. It’s not just about Kelce, it’s…fuck, Y/N. I don’t usually care like this.” She lets out a small breath, lips pressing together as she processes his words.

“And that scares you?” She asks softly and Rafe chuckles dryly, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Maybe a little.”

Y/N shifts closer, their knees brushing.

“I get it.” She admits. “But I don’t expect you to have it all figured out right now. I just need you to talk to me. Let me in instead of shutting me out.” Rafe meets her eyes, his fingers finally settling on her shoulder, his touch light but grounding.

“I’ll try.” He admits and Y/N smiles, nudging his knee with hers.

“Good.”

She inches closer, leaning into him. When she looks up, her gaze flickers to his lips.

“Do it.” Rafe whispers, his voice low and she smirks.

“Do what?” She teases, playing innocent. Rafe pinches her side, making her squeal as she presses in even closer.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He murmurs. Y/N giggles before leaning in, her lips brushing his. Rafe cups her face, deepening the kiss as her hand settles against his chest. When they finally pull back, breathless, she smiles up at him. Her eyes catch the shine on his lips and she instinctively reaches up, wiping away the remnants of her lip gloss.

“So, this is our thing now, huh?” She muses, focused on the task. Rafe chuckles.

“Guess so.” He shrugs. “Not that I care about the whole...lip color thingy.”

“Lip gloss.” She corrects with a smirk.

“That.” He scoffs. “You don’t have to wipe it off every time.” She shakes her head.

“It's not a big deal. Honestly, I should probably just stop wearing it around you.” She exclaims.

“Or just get used to me wearing it, too.” He says, grinning. Laughter bubbles between them, easy and warm, as she tucks herself closer into his side.

Later in the evening, JJ gathers all the islanders around the firepit, his energy buzzing like he’s just thought of the best idea ever.

“I think our new guy over here-” He slings an arm around Kelce’s shoulders “-deserves a proper Love Island welcome.” He grins.

“What do you say, guys? You up for a little ‘Never Have I Ever’?” A chorus of agreement follows, champagne gets poured and John B jumps in to explain the rules.

“Okay, so we’ll go around, say a prompt starting with ‘Never have I ever…’ Like, I dunno, ‘Never have I ever hooked up with my best friend’s sister.’ If you have, you take a sip.” Sarah, sitting beside him, turns to him in horror.

“Wait…was that an example or…?” She asks and John B's eyes widen.

“Example! Just an example!” He explains.

“Mm-hmm, sure.” JJ smirks, topping off his glass.

“JJ-” “Let the game begin!” JJ shouts in a dramatic British accent, earning some laughs.

“Topper, you’re up first.” JJ announces. Topper thinks for a second, then shrugs.

“Never have I ever…smoked a joint?” He asks, making JJ groan.

“Lame, Top. Come on.”

“We should start slow, Jayj.” Kiara reasons and the others nod in agreement.

“Fine, fine.” JJ rolls his eyes and takes a big sip anyway. John B, Rafe, Topper, Kelce, Sarah and Kiara follow suit. JJ glances around.

“Wait-you guys haven’t?”

Y/N, Maddy, Cleo, Pope and Alyssa shake their heads.

“You’re joking.” JJ deadpans.

“Not everyone wants to, you know.” Y/N says.

“But it never even crossed your mind? Just to see what it’s like?”

“Not at all.” She replies.

“She says it reeks.” Kelce chimes in, like he knows her better than her own self.

“Because it does!” Y/N exclaims, making the guys chuckle. Rafe, meanwhile, isn’t laughing. His jaw clenches as his gaze lingers on Kelce a beat too long. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests a hand on his thigh. A subtle squeeze, pulling him out of whatever storm was brewing in his head. Maddy clears her throat.

“Can we move on?” She asks.

“Yes, please.” Topper agrees.

“Okay, um…never have I ever gone skinny dipping.” Alyssa asks and drinks from her flute. Most of the islanders take a sip, except for Y/N and Pope. Kelce smirks, turning to Y/N.

“Take a sip.” He nods to the glass on her hand. She blinks.

“But I haven’t.” She replies and Kelce scoffs.

“Julia’s party.” He says making Y/N frown.

“What?”

“The penthouse? The pool? The ‘pretty pink vodka drink’?” He points out and Y/N’s eyes widen.

“Oh. Shit.” She exclaims.

“Okay, we need details, like, now.” Sarah claps her hands. Kelce raises a hand dismissively.

“Story for another time.” He nods at Y/N. “Take a sip, Y/N/N.” She does, while Rafe’s jaw visibly tightens, his grip on his glass a little too firm.

“Who’s next?” He asks, clearing his throat. Maddy perks up.

“Me! Okay, never have I ever tried sexting.”

A few people take sips. Kelce meets Y/N’s gaze and smirks before drinking. Y/N stares at the fire as she sips from her glass. Meanwhile, Rafe stares at Kelce. Y/N can practically feel the temperature rising beside her.

“Okay, never have I ever laughed so hard I, um, peed my pants as an adult.” Sarah giggles, before drinking.

Silence.

“And the crowd goes quiet.” JJ says in his British accent. Y/N snorts.

“It’s valid!” She takes a sip, to support Sarah. Rafe tilts his head.

“Wait, seriously?” He asks, in disbelief. She nods.

“It was a hilarious joke, I couldn't help it!” Rafe laughs, wrapping an arm around her.

“I should be disgusted by this.”

“Sorry.” She teases.

“Oh, no, no, don’t be. I’m not. I mean, it’s not, like…hot. But-wait, no, I mean, you’re hot, but-” Y/N chuckles, saving him from himself with a quick peck on the cheek.

“You’re cute when you short-circuit.” She points out.

“Come on, lovebirds! We got a game to finish!” Kelce calls out. Y/N sighs. Rafe sucks his teeth, visibly annoyed, gripping his glass a little too tightly. Y/N notices and without thinking, rests her hand back on his thigh.

“Okay! My turn!” Kiara clears her throat, trying to redirect.

The game continues, with Kelce making a point to throw Y/N knowing looks whenever she hesitates to drink. Every time he sips, he conveniently drops a story from their past, like a breadcrumb trail leading back to him.

Y/N, beyond annoyed, fiddles with a loose thread on her dress, until she’s had enough.

“I got one.” She says, sitting up as everyone leans in. Y/N locks eyes with Kelce. “Never have I ever faked an orgasm.”

The girls, every single one, take a sip. The guys burst into hollers, JJ nearly choking on his drink. Kelce’s smirk finally falters, his ego visibly bruised. He clears his throat.

“I think we should stop for the night.” He suggests

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Maddy exclaims, smirking. The game dissolves as the islanders start pairing off for chats, but Rafe? Rafe’s grinning.

‘Cause that's his girl.

to be continued...

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A/N: hope you enjoyed this!!!

[stellathyst]

"Is a donut part of the grain food group? Because grain is supposed to be good for your body, but donuts are all glazed and sugary. I get that if you get rid of the glaze and sugar, it's just grain, but that's not a donut without all that glaze and sugar. It's like, you can't~ you can't have a donut without sugar. It's just not a donut without sugar. It's a fonut. A fake donut. Or even better, a tunod. "

"???"

"That's donut backwards. A tunod. Yes. A sugarless donut is called a tunod. I absolutely despise tunods, and they can go to hell. They would probably taste like sour bread and give you an aneurysm. I swear, if tunods ever get put into existence, I will cry. I will sue whoever made it and flood their production line. All of the tunods will be flooded and nobody will ever get another tunod. Now my stomach hurts talking about tunods, because they will 100% give everybody food poisoning. And now I'm just really tired of talking about tunods, mostly because I never wanted to talk about tunods, because they suck. So let's talk about some else. Like towels. Towels are nice. They keep you warm. And dry. Cloths are similar to towels. But most cloths are smaller than other towels. And cloths are usually used to get rid of spills. The word cloths look like the word clothes. Like the kind of stuff that you wear. Or hats. Hats are like clothes, but for your hair. Unless you're bald. Then it's for your ghost hair." "I'm beginning to question if I chose the right host."

"Hats can be used to make people think that your hair is still there if you're bald. They can help you pretend you still have hair. Impostor hair. Speaking of hair, I've never gotten a different hairstyle at my local hair salon. It's always "2 on the sides, and 7 on the front." Then they're like "Regular for the back?" and I'm like "Yup." They know me well. My family knows me well. My dad knows the sore spot on my back where he hits me with his belt. Belts hurt. A canvas D-ring belt hurts too. I have no idea what a canvas D-ring belt is, or if it even exists, but it sounds painful. This case is open and shut. Just like his mouth was, constantly. That was my last fat joke, ok? That was from Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Watch the show. What's that? You have? Watch it again. I watch it before breakfast and forget to eat. I like breakfast. Breakfast tastes good. Unlike tunods. Sorry, sorry~ I should not of brought that up. Nobody likes that. I wonder how many words I've said so far."

"I am trying to not blow my cover, please don't distract me."

"And you will probably succeed. Because my fingers WILL fall off eventually. Like when I play text-adventure games. I enjoy text-adventure games. They're fun to play, and to create. But sometimes they're SO annoying. Like I would say: "look around" and it's like >There's nothing to look at. Like, what? There has to be SOMETHING to look at in the stupid room or church or whatever the character is in. He can't just be in blank nothingness. Or she. Or they, my bad. I need to get better at using pronouns correctly. Sorry. Forgive me. Please, accept my forgiveness. Forgive me my sins. I beg you. Okay, I'm not that desperate. But what if I am? What if I'm playing mind games with you, and I really AM desperate? Um, puppies are cute, I like cats better, I am speaking in an Australian accent, that's a lie, what I just said is false, I lied, this is false, I am not correct, this is not a debate. I can't believe we came this far. Talking about donuts to hats to random stuff. I'm gonna stop here soon because my voice hurts. I'll say a couple more sentences. Shoutout to Reddit (I am not getting paid to say that) and Discord. I like Discord. Discord is really cool. Numbers, 12345, 67, 89, 10. Letters, ABCD, EF, GH I am bored." "MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE."

You have been possessed by a demon. Instead of panicking, you realize an important truth: you're trapped in your own body with a demon at the wheel, but you're still in the car, and you have the power to make them regret every single second they spend with you.

[lilislegacy]

So here’s the thing: Percy is my guy. I’ll defend him till the day I die. I adore everything about him, and you guys know that. So this post might shock you because I’m about to call the fuck out of him.

I am so SICK of receiving ask after ask after comment after ask about Annabeth being the only goddamn issue in their relationship, meanwhile Percy gets made out to be some saint. You want to call out Percabeth? You want to be all heroic and talk about bad behavior? Allow me to join you! Let’s fucking talk about it!

The number one thing people complain about in their relationship: Annabeth making jokes about his intelligence. But let’s actually talk about this: we all know Percy is extremely intelligent, but why are we so hellbent on denying it when he DOES act like an idiot most of the time? Like, why is Percy saying things like he can’t tie his shoes or phrasing stuff to Annabeth like an 8-year-old when he’s nearly a grown adult? And now tell me this. Why is it always on ANNABETH to translate and explain everything when we know Percy can figure stuff out for himself? Why is it always on ANNABETH to make the plan? Why is it always on ANNABETH to figure out how to fix things that Percy and Grover usually messed up? 

After Wrath of the Triple Goddess, I spent so much time being angry at how Rick wrote Annabeth bossing Percy around. But then I took a step back and realized: it’s because he also writes Percy as always being so heavily reliant on Annabeth when she’s there. Instead of asking, “Why is Annabeth acting like his mom?” why isn’t anyone ever fucking asking, “Why does Annabeth feel like she HAS to act like his mom?” Because she doesn’t act that way with people like Thalia, Jason, or Reyna. So why is her boyfriend putting her in a position where she feels like she has to explain everything to him and tell him what to do?

Oh right, I forgot: because we must always blame the woman for “nagging” and “being controlling.” Silly me for forgetting.

You know, in The Demigod Diaries, Annabeth says she’s always known Percy isn’t dumb and that he’s actually very intelligent—but that he just ACTS super dumb. Then she says she thinks Percy does it just to annoy her. Annabeth has called Percy smart on several occasions—including one of my favorite moments in MoA where she calls him brilliant and kisses him—and yet she still makes those comments about his intelligence. So considering all that, let's think about it. Have you ever met someone who’s super smart but acts so dumb that they actually convince themselves they’re dumb? It’s infuriating. So imagine how that must feel to a daughter of Athena. And don’t you dare go, “Well, it’s because of Percy’s childhood and his abuse…” because Annabeth is ALSO fucked up from her childhood and suffered from abuse, but that doesn’t ever excuse HER, I guess. So why does Percy get a pass? 

It’s ALWAYS “God Annabeth is so controlling all the time” and NEVER “how come Percy puts Annabeth in a position where she always HAS to take charge and keep things under control?” How come he low-key DOES act dumb and useless (and then complains about it) when they both know damn well he can be smart and resourceful when he wants to? Let me guess. “He’s insecure 😔😔.” YEAH, NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. So being insecure makes it all okay? Because Annabeth NEVER gets that benefit of the doubt. Or let me guess, “It’s Rick’s fault for writing him that way” okay cool, well then it’s ALSO Rick’s fault for writing Annabeth the way she is. You don’t get to pick and choose.

(Quick pause—does anyone else feel like Rick finally started writing Percy as a confident, secure, and assertive person in Heroes of Olympus—and found it so refreshing—only for Percy to regress back into his self-hating, insecure 12-year-old self again in the new books? Because it’s infuriating to me that he lost that character development. Anyway… resuming discussion.)

People are always so worried about Percy feeling inferior in their relationship, but never about Annabeth feeling frustrated when Percy doesn't act like the equally contributing partner that she knows he can be (and that he is a lot of the time). I mean, we know from her POV in MoA that Annabeth tends to feel like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders and has to figure things out for everyone else. And that she feels useless sometimes because everyone else, especially Percy, has all these amazing powers, and all Annabeth has to contribute is her knowledge. And yet, when she "shows off" with her intelligence, it's a "superiority complex?"

And another hot topic: Anti-Percabethers are always talking about Annabeth “bullying” and “physically abusing” Percy. (Despite him never feeling pain, flinching, or even expressing an ounce of discontent—in fact after she judo-flipped him, he laughed and smiled). And yet they never seem to want to talk about the fact that Percy has made Annabeth cry and been extremely insensitive to her on several occasions. And you wanna talk about physical violence? Let’s talk about how Sally, Paul, and Annabeth were all extremely nervous and tense when telling Percy that Sally was pregnant. You know why? It’s explained that they’re scared because his temper is brutal and they never know how he’s going to react—because he previously blew out the pipes of the entire apartment building when he got upset about something. How come everybody is SO worried about Annabeth playfully smacking his shoulder and him not caring, but NOBODY wants to talk about the fact that Annabeth is scared of making Percy mad because he can’t fucking control his temper or keep the world around him from blowing up? This is the guy who’s been kicked out of military schools for fighting. This is the guy who’s thrown his skateboard into a wall out of rage. This is the guy who got so mad at a goddess that he got pleasure out of torturing her. I’m not saying he’s wrong for any of that, but I am saying that Annabeth has never once done something like that.

Let’s talk about Piper’s perspective of him. I used to hate Piper because she was critical of Percy, but then I grew up. She is one of the few people who actually gives us an unbiased view of him, and you know what she says? She says she doesn’t know how Annabeth deals with Percy because Annabeth is constantly having to keep him under control. Annabeth keeps him from attacking/yelling at Leo after the canon incident. She has to diffuse his stupid, pointless “who’s is bigger” competition with Jason. She’s not there to keep him from pissing off Bacchus, and Percy rapidly escalates the situation and nearly screws them all over. I mean, in Wrath of the Triple Goddess, she had to tactfully handle him after Grover drank the strawberry potion because Percy was so angry that he was literally shaking (and btw Annabeth had to figure out the plan to fix everything that time, too). When she’s not there, Percy talks back to gods and superiors and gets everyone around him into bad situations with his temper and disobedience. Annabeth CONSTANTLY has to calm him down and keep him from losing his shit. Do you know how exhausting that must be??

So tell me—why is the blame ALWAYS on the woman here? Why is Percy made out to be some poor, abused wittle baby being picked on by big bad Annabeth? He’s a big boy. A grown man now, even. He is the most powerful demigod alive. He can fucking take care of himself, and so can Annabeth.

If you don’t want to like Percabeth? That’s fine. If you don’t want to like Annabeth? That’s fine. But STOP making it out as if Annabeth is the only one who causes problems in their relationship and Percy is completely innocent. Percy is just as bad—arguably worse, actually. Because despite everyone saying how bad Annabeth is to Percy, he never actually gets hurt, scared, or offended by her. Meanwhile, Annabeth HAS cried because of Percy’s words AND has been scared of him and his temper. So… what the FUCK?? How is Annabeth the one being villainized here??

Now, I can actively defend every single thing Percy has done. I love him for his flaws and they make him such a complex character. And I can do and say the same thing about Annabeth, but for some reason that’s “excusing bad behavior.” I love them both and think they are extraordinary people who’ve been dealt really crappy hands. They deal with things the best way that they can in the moment. But they BOTH mess up and hurt each other, and they BOTH have things to work on. They are very flawed characters, and we can point out and discuss those flaws while also being fond of those flaws because it makes them more realistic. 

Now, some of you might be thinking, “Lili, I thought you loved Percy and Percabeth.” I do. I love them so much that I pretty much have a whole blog dedicated to them. But I don’t love them because I think they’re perfect. I love them because, despite being extremely flawed, they make each other better. They love each other unconditionally. They build each other up and protect each other in the darkest of times.

They are best friends. They are battle partners. They are lovers. They are warriors. They are heroes. They are EQUALS. But they are NOT perfect. Not even a little. And their ability to overcome and work through those imperfections together is what makes them so extraordinary.

And yet, when Percy plays dumb, it’s blamed on Rick’s bad writing and excused as him being insecure because of his abuse. When Annabeth calls him out for it and jokes about it, she gets called an awful person who doesn’t value him. And when Percy loses his temper and acts out and gets everyone into bad situations, he’s excused because he inherited Poseidon’s temper and he can’t help it. But when Annabeth is extremely prideful and acts like she’s smarter than other people (which she inherited from Athena) she’s a selfish bitch who thinks she’s better than anyone else? 

How does that make any fucking sense? 

If you want to criticize Percabeth, criticize both of them. But don’t keep doing this “selective reading” bullshit so you can see Annabeth as the villain when she spends half her life cleaning up Percy’s messes and taking care of him. Percy is extraordinary and I adore him, but he is not a “saint” for “dealing with Annabeth.” He is damn lucky to have her, just like she's damn lucky to have him. 

Either be honest about both their flaws and cut it out with the double standards, or don’t bother pretending you care about the truth at all.

[scriptseekstories]

Queen Bee’s Hive

Chapter 1- Drone

A/N: I see a handful of people like this, so I’m going to take it and run lol

P.S- the artist of the cool redesigns are s3tok41b4, give credit where credit is due.

The Honeybee is one of the most hardworking insects in the world. Always pushing themselves to please their Queen, producing honey with the pollen they scavenge for, always having a high risk of dying the moment they are conscious of what their purpose is.

Your mother taught you that bees have a hierarchy: The Queen, the Worker Bees, and the Drones. The Queen was meant to control the strength of the colony, maintain the hive’s behavior. The Workers were meant to go out and provide for the colony, defending the hive from danger. And the Drone, was only meant for one simple thing; reproduction.

And right now, you didn’t felt like anything.

Your mind was fuzzy, vision blurry as you tried to collect what Mr. Gordon told you. Your mother was dead. She was dead and you couldn’t even got a chance to say goodbye to her, how could you accept grief when the last words from her was: “I’m going out for a bit, my little bumble bee. I’ll be back for dinner,”

Not even an “I love you”.

“Hello young master,” The fuzziness and numbing sensation wore off just a bit to hear a gentle accent, one that was filled with comfort and pity. Lifting your head up you saw an old man, in a clean sharp suit with eyes that told so much stories yet nothing.

“My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I am here on the behalf of your biological father, Bruce Wayne,” That name. You heard it all about that man. Wayne Enterprise was the first companies that funded your mother’s Project: Honey, they were the one that helped her group reach to the sun.

Yet the project burned like Icarus, never fully knowing the feeling of the warm feeling of success. She never mentioned him again, never once talked about Wayne Enterprise after that.

Alfred noticed the look of confusion, so he crouched down in front of you as you clutched the edge of the GPD waiting chair.

“I assure you, Master Bruce will be the best father you will ever know,” He reassured, lending out a hand for you. You stared at him for a moment, eyes filled with emotions you couldn’t control or understand just yet, but one was overpowering than the others. Hope.

“Really?” You mustered out, voice small and confused. Alfred nodded before noting how your eyes were tearing up. You realized you weren’t going back home, you weren’t going back to have your mother making your favorite meal, you weren’t going back to your toy filled room that you played for hours, you weren’t going back ever again.

“I want my mommy…” You whispered out, voice cracking at the end as globs of tears flowed down your cheeks as your mind fully understood what everything meant. You lost your mother, but maybe you will gain a father.

“My sweet dear,” Alfred hushed you gently as you clutched his hand and burrowed your face into his chest, his smooth suit now crinkled and stained with tears. Gordon closed his eyes and looked away, knowing the feeling of losing who you couldn’t save.

Alfred led you to the limo, where you hesitated as you never actually saw a limo in real life before. He explained that you will be able to collect your personal items when you officially meet Bruce.

You stared out the tinted windows, watching the buildings pass by, citizens of Gotham living their lives, yet they all were connected in one way. Gotham was their hive, and they all work to survive in a hive invaded by wasps and other insects that dare to harm each bee.

And a wasp got your mother.

You were in awe at seeing the massive Wayne Manor. Are you really going to live there? You pray that Bruce Wayne will be as nice and kind as he is on the news, someone who will give you warmth and a place to call home.

Alfred held your hand as he let you along the long driveway, and inside felt like it was bigger than the outside. You felt out of place, like an outsider bee searching for refuge in another hive.

“Come along now, Master Bruce is in his office,” You’ll have time to demote everything later, you thought. It was time to meet Bruce Wayne. You fixed your hair and clothes as you walked, as if you were ready for a bunnies deal with him. You hoped you were good enough just as you stopped at a giant two way door that led to his office.

“Master Bruce, your young child is here to greet you,” Alfred announced while pushing the door. Your eyes widened at the well dressed man sitting at his desk. His eyes piercing and strong, as if he saw the dangers of the world and still held hope.

‘He could be the Queen bee mom was talking about,’ You thought with a small smile. You took a step back, hand slipping out of Alfred’s. Here you go, the moment of bonding with your father, your smile widened ever so slightly when he looked up from his work to make eye contact.

“I’m (Name)-,” Just as you held your hand out, Bruce grabbed his papers and walked past you and Alfred, only giving a small smile and nod to Alfred. Not looking at you.

“Oh…” You dropped your hand, standing there in the office awkward of the lack of welcome, greetings, or even warmth in his eyes. It was as if he didn’t even know you were there. Alfred called out for him, slightly appalled at his zero acknowledgement towards me.

‘A Queen Bee would never ignore her worker bees’

“I’m sorry, Master (Name),” Alfred was going to give Bruce a great scolding of his life for ignoring you, but when he stood up, your small hands grasped his long fingers, where you gave a bright smile, so sweet yet so sad.

“It’s… okay Alfred,” You smiled, “Things are going to be okay,” Alfred knew that the look in your eyes told him everything. You were shattered when your father hadn’t said anything to you, yet you were still hopeful that you will belong in this hive.

You will be his Worker Bee.

You had help from Alfred to collect things from your old home… is the manor really your new home? You stuffed as much photos of you and your mother into your bag, along with your favorite plush your mother got you, a fluffy Minecraft bee plush she got for your birthday.

You walked around the empty house, a feeling of grief yet nostalgia filled your stomach. You stopped at your mother’s door, slinking to see everything the same as if she wasn’t gone. When you turn to leave, you stumbled back into her working desk, papers scattered.

Your mother’s papers to Project: Honey. You couldn’t just let her hard work die. You may have not understood what the appears meant, but you know how much her researched meant. You stuffed them into your binders before letting Alfred know that you were ready.

That was the day you met Bruce’s eldest son, your new big brother.

Dick Grayson, the son of Bruce Wayne. Not biological, yet he was cherished. You were happy, excited even, to have a big brother that you can count on, someone who will comfort you and playfully bother you, someone who you can tell many secrets too.

And it started out great! At first… He smiled brightly and patted your shoulder, looking sad and walked off. yet it didn’t felt all too genuine. That still didn’t stop you, your little kid brain thought maybe it was because he was busy at first! And he was, with Bruce.

Everytime you showed up from school with drawings and assignments that is covered with bees, you would always show Bruce first, but when he simply hummed and went back to his work. You went to Dick, who gave a very exaggerated “Wowww!! Amazing!” Before walking off. Disheartened, you went up to Alfred and showed your drawings, to which he framed it and placed it on your wall.

It made you smile just a bit.

When you ran up to Dick with great news that you wanted to see a movie, and begged for him to go while holding his hand, he looked a bit uncomfortable and gently peeled your arm away, saying that he had urgent business with Bruce.

“Sorry kid, maybe next time, okay?” There was never a next time, it you didn’t have the heart to ask again.

You moved your stuff into a spared room, however Alfred insisted to have yours connected to the family hall, as the one you chose was much too small. The room was the nursery Martha and Thomas Wayne has set up when they brought Bruce into the world, yet it was only temporary as they moved him into his own personal room to grow.

“I like it,” You beamed at Alfred, clinging onto your bee plush as his grip to the doorframe tightened. It seemed that your sweet smile of yourself was something he hasn’t seen in a while, not even from Dick. Seeing you in that nursery room felt like as if Bruce was a baby once more, happily jumping around while wanting to play.

The same sweet smile you both held. You had a cool window that views into the garden, insects flying around with their lives.

A bee. A single honeybee buzzed on your windowsill, perched down as if inspecting the area. You admired it as it began to dance around as if trying to communicate with you, making you giggle and show off your bee plushie. It didn’t appreciate a giant object in its face however, and flew away to the top corner, making you smile with the knowledge of one thing giving you attention.

Barbara Gordon visited often, and you were in awe at how amazing and smart she was, as expected being the daughter of the man who held you and carried you in his arms when you were told that your mother died.

You wanted to thank her dad, to talk to her and maybe make a spark between you both. However, it didn’t matter as she gave you a look of confusion, as if silently asking what was your purpose in the manor.

She merely ushered you out of her way before running to Dick and Bruce, the three of them gone. That’s okay! You still had Alfred, and you spent your free time talking about bees and cooking together. Alfred loved seeing you beam.

Jason Todd arrived not long after, and you were mesmerized at how tough yet sweet he was. He might have been older than you, but you didn’t care, he actually gave a damn about you. You were able to share your rants about bees and other things, and he shared books and stories.

The only downside was the fact he was always so busy with Bruce. You wanted to follow, you wanted to stay close to your brother, yet Bruce didn’t even spared you a glance as Jason gave you an apologetic look before leaving with him.

You didn’t know where they went, but you didn’t care as you just wanted to have every moment with Jason. Why is Bruce taking things away from you when you began to be happy?

“I’ll be back before you know it, bumble,” Jason grinned. That never happened, as he passed away from a Joker attack that day. The manor was filled with thick grief, Alfred cradled you as you sobbed into his chest once more, a familiar feeling of loss building up inside your heart.

You confronted Bruce, begging him to let you see Jason for the funeral, but out of guilt and grief, he aggressively shoved you away with the look of sadness with a hint of disgust.

“Go away,” He didn’t even utter your name, yet that wasn’t the thing that hurt the most, it was the fact you were never told that the funeral happened. Not even Alfred could give you a reasonable excuse, and only apologized over and over as you numbly walked back to your room.

You held onto the bee plush tightly as you cried for hours, only stopping when you felt like passing out. Days in school never felt as joyful and pleasant, teachers were concerned of the lack of energy, yet never was concerned enough to contact Bruce or Alfred.

But you knew Bruce didn’t even want to come when called from the school, as you heard from your small room that he didn’t want to be part of the parental contacts for the school. Another sign that he doesn’t care.

Tim Drake was the next to be adopted, or rather, the one who forced Bruce to adopt him. He was a smart kid, very tech savvy that followed Bruce for a while to the point of actually managing to hack into a computer system that was locked down with security.

Fourth times a charm, right? You quietly slunk over to the boy, curious as to what he was furiously typing away. The moment you opened your mouth, he immediately stopped and turned to look at you with bemusement, and even disgust.

“Do you mind? I’m too busy to deal with this,” And he went back to his typing. You simply closed your mouth, feeling embarrassed as you scurried away. Tim was a year older than you, and you gave up on trying to befriend someone older, knowing it won’t be the same with Tim as it was with Jason.

Jason… he was back! You thought you were dreaming and believed to be fake, yet there he stood. Tears welled up as you ran to hug him, crying that you missed him and was so happy to see your brother again.

But the happiness was gone when you felt pain your eye. You tumbled back and looked up at him with shock and fear as his eyes glowed green. They weren’t green, they never were, and they were filled with rage and hate. He was different appearance wise, and you guessed personality wise too.

You touched your eye when it became clear that he punched you. He punched you as if you were a stranger who attacked him. Your body shook when he scoffed and stalked passed you, only giving you one last glance.

“Just stay the hell away from me, and we won’t have issues,” No mention of your name, or playful insult, no Bumble. You knew it wasn’t the Jason that smiled when you reenacted your favorite scene in a story, the Jason that tried his best to have Bruce talk to you, the Jason who you grew to love as a brother.

He became the outcasted bee that still clung to the hope he’ll be accepted again. And he was.

Bruce still clung onto Jason, he still loved his son that he would do anything for him to forgive him. You watched from a corner as Bruce actually cried for a child, his child.

You were even his kid? You stayed in your room for most days if you weren’t in school, laying by the window as you watched the beehive that was made next to your window, admiring how these honeybees would land on your finger and buzz.

These little insects gave you more attention than others, and you were fine with it.

Barbara was back. She had to go into a hospital after another Joker attack. She remained in a wheelchair, yet was still as smart and tough as before. Even though she didn’t care for you, you thought this was a perfect time to talk to her. A foolish move, as you mistakenly touched the bars to her wheelchair, and she pushed you away with a glare.

“As if I need any help from you!!” You knew you made a mistake, you knew if you were her you also wouldn’t want someone make you feel incapable of moving, yet you felt sadness when she yelled. You could only muster a “I’m sorry”, before running off to your room.

Stephanie Brown arrived not long after. She was bubbly, always grinning, and was mischievous as a fox. You bumped into her while she was laughing with Tim, who didn’t give you a glance. You said hi and wanted to say hi, but she only waved you off while smiling.

“Yeahhhh, sorry. Just too busy with something else, bye!” That smile felt forced and condescending, that she knew I wasn’t worth her time. You knew that tone very well from Tim, so you didn’t even bother being sad about it.

Cassandra Cain wasn’t even worth tears as she didn’t even spared a glance after staring intently at you when she arrived and walking away. It felt like she was judging you before even knowing you, and she deemed you as someone not worthy of even acknowledging.

You only saw her when the others hung out together. You didn’t care that you weren’t included (of course you cared), but it was the fact they all looked so happy talking to one another, having the best time of their lives without you.

Damien Wayne, the younger biological son of Bruce, arriving with the same scowl and attitude at his father. A little brother, you thought. Maybe this time…?

No, of course not. Every member of this family doesn’t ever give you a chance and immediately deem you as an inconvenience. Damien gave you a clear sign he didn’t like you when he gave you a defensive and deadly glare before drawing one of his katanas and you barely managed to avoid it hitting your face, merely slicing a mean and clean cut on your forehead.

“You’re not worthy to refer to me as your brother. You are simply a result of a one night stand with a low class civilian! You’re not equal to us to be deemed as a Wayne,” He sneered, attempting to strike again before Dick held him back, scolding him for having his katanas out.

Not scolding of attacking you, no worrying about your gash on your forehead, nothing. You began to tear up as you stumbling to stand as Dick gave you a sympathetic shrug before dragging Damien away.

“You have to understand he has a rough time growing up,” You should’ve known Dick didn’t come to stop Damien because he saw you, it was because Damien was “acting out”, and it was his duty as big brother to calm him down.

Duke Thomas arrived as a newly adopted son of Bruce, and for once, he gave you time to say hi. You were in the library reading about Entomology, where he was lost in the giant halls of Wayne Manor and stumbled into the library.

“Hey! If you don’t mind, do you know where the kitchen is?” He sheepishly asked you, and you were caught off guard at his interaction with you. He acknowledged you? Your smile couldn’t have been any bigger as you excitedly walked to him and introduced each other.

You showed him the ropes of how to guide himself through the manor, even daring to show him the secret passages that only you and Alfred know. He was amazed that no one mentioned you, to which you gave no heed to that comment.

It wasn’t long when you showed him the kitchen where Stephanie and Dick grabbed Duke and took him a way to have a hangout with the others, leaving you standing there with your smile gone and Duke confused as to why you were following.

You should’ve known the others would take him away from you, and alone you were again. No Duke, no Jason, no Alfred, no one.

Bruce spent all his attention to other kids, ones who begged for his love, others who weren’t even grateful. Alfred tried his best to include you, yet it was in vain as he had his hands tied when it comes to you, always rushing to other’s aid when they need him.

You were alone in a hive with a father who doesn’t care or love you.

He wasn’t a Queen… he was nothing yet meant everything to this hive.

Your so called siblings were his worker bees, protecting each other and Bruce. Alfred was more than a worker bee, he was the one raising and tending to the family hive. And you…?

You weren’t even worthy of being a drone.

You never belonged to this hive.

You were an intruder.

Buzzzz

Well… you’re not completely alone.

A/N: I’ll give Bee!Reader more personality soon, just wanted the relationships with the Batsiblings out of the way.

Also this kinda gives off Mirabel vibes from Encanto, living in a nursery room, you just really like the alone space for you and you alone.

Tag list: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star (girlie is ain’t letting me find ya 😭) @moom0goddess

[deadrobinthoughts]

† i hope : various.

⋆˙⟡ "I hope I die first, 'Cause I don't wanna live without you, I don't wanna ever learn, How to fall asleep without you, Tell me what's worse, Losing you now or later? Maybe, I can break the curse, And I can be in love forever, If I die first"

⋆˙⟡ featuring: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne, cassandra cain, bruce wayne, ↦ kalico note: you know you're doing great when you tear up while writing. what does it say when the writer is crying? + SHIT SORRY, TW for mentions of death.

⋆˙⟡ 𝐃𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 is warmth, is laughter, is the effortless joy of a sunrise after too many sleepless nights. he is the one who pulls you close when the world feels too heavy, the one who reminds you - without even trying - that love can be easy, that it can be safe. and maybe that’s why the thought of losing him feels like swallowing glass, why the very idea of a life without him feels like something you would never recover from.

"i hope i die first."

you don’t mean for it to slip out, but it does - soft, quiet, like a secret you never meant to share. his arms tighten around you instantly, the playful hum of the moment disappearing into something deeper, heavier.

"hey," he murmurs, leaning back just enough to look at you. his brows pull together, blue eyes full of something raw, something you weren’t supposed to see. "what was that?"

you press your face into his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, and you don’t take it back.

"i don’t want to learn how to live without you, dick." your fingers curl against the fabric of his shirt, desperate to keep him close, to keep him real. "if you go first… i won’t know how to sleep in our bed. i won’t know how to wake up without you next to me. i won’t know how to be... okay again."

his breath hitches; so faint, so quiet, but you hear it. and then he’s wrapping you up, holding you so tightly it almost hurts, pressing his lips to your forehead like he can breathe reassurance into your skin.

"baby," he whispers, his voice softer now, but laced with something unshakable. "i’m not going anywhere. not for a long, long time."

"you can’t promise that."

he exhales, and you feel it more than you hear it. "maybe not. but i can promise this - no matter what, i'll always do my best to make my way back."

even as he kisses you - slow, lingering, trying to pull you back to something lighter - the fear doesn’t leave. because if the universe is cruel, if it takes him first, you don’t know if you’ll ever recover.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐝 already knows what it means to die. to be taken away, to leave behind the people who love him, to return only to find the world has kept turning without him. he doesn’t talk about it - not the way he should, not the way that makes it easier to carry. but you know. you always know.

and maybe that’s why you’re scared. because he’s already been gone once, already been a name carved in stone, already been a whisper of what once was. and if it happens again? if fate is cruel enough to steal him from you when you’ve only just learned what it means to love him?

"i hope i die first."

he freezes. completely.

you don’t even realize you’ve said it out loud until you feel his grip on you shift, his hands moving to your waist, to your arms, like he needs to ground himself, like he needs to see your face, needs to read your expression, needs to confirm this is real.

"the hell kind of thing is that to say?" his voice isn’t angry - it’s something else. something tighter. something strained.

"jay-"

"no." he shakes his head, jaw tight, brows furrowed, that rare flicker of panic dancing just behind his eyes. "don’t.. don’t say shit like that."

"but it’s true." your voice is softer now, but you don’t back down. because it is true. because even thinking about a world where he isn’t in it makes your chest ache, makes your lungs stop working properly.

his fingers tighten where they rest against your arms, like he wants to shake some sense into you or maybe himself. "you’d be fine without me."

"i wouldn’t."

"you would."

"i wouldn’t, jason." you exhale, long and slow, and place your hands over his, fingers curling around his wrists. you feel the pulse beneath his skin, steady, alive, and you can’t help but cling to it. "i don’t want to learn how to live without you. i don’t want to know what that feels like. i don’t want to wake up in an empty bed and try to figure out how to keep going when the person i love is gone."

something in his face breaks.

because jason knows loss better than anyone. jason knows what it means to wake up in a world that has moved on without him.

"you can’t think like that," he mutters, voice rougher now, rasping around the edges. he leans forward, presses his forehead against yours, eyes slipping shut like he can pretend - just for a second - that this is a conversation that will never matter. "i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere."

"you don’t get to promise that."

a slow inhale. a slower exhale. and then, his lips brush against your temple, against your cheek, against your mouth - all soft, all careful, all full of something he will never be able to put into words.

"then let me promise this." his voice is quiet now, barely more than a whisper. "if i ever do go first? if fate really is that much of a bitch?" he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, blue-green eyes burning with something dangerous, something desperate. "i will crawl my way back to you.. already done it once."

and somehow, you believe him.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐞 exists on borrowed time. you have seen it in the way he moves, in the way he never stops, never slows down, never allows himself the luxury of standing still. he is a man who keeps one foot in the past, one foot in the future, and barely enough left for the present. you know he loves you. god, you know he does. but that doesn’t stop the fear from creeping in, doesn’t stop the thought from clawing at the back of your mind - what if one day, he doesn’t come back?

"i hope i die first."

it’s quiet, like a confession, like something you were never meant to say out loud.

tim stills, fingers halting where they had been lazily tracing circles against your wrist. his breath catches, just slightly, just enough for you to notice.

"that’s not funny." his voice is soft, even, but there’s something there. something cautious.

"i wasn’t joking." you swallow, shifting so you can look at him, so you can see the way his expression shifts, the way his lips press together, the way his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your own.

"you can’t-" he stops, inhales sharply, tries again. "i don’t want to think about that."

"i don’t either." your fingers thread through his, squeezing lightly. "but i don’t want to think about losing you, either."

tim exhales, slow and steady, like he’s processing something too heavy to carry. but then he leans forward, presses his lips to your forehead, and lets the silence speak for him.

because he doesn’t know how to promise forever. but he knows how to love you while he’s still here.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 was never supposed to love like this. love was not something given freely in his world, not something soft, not something safe. it was a weapon, a duty, a thing to be wielded with precision and purpose. and yet.

yet, when you love him - when you look at him like he is something worth loving - he is undone. and that is why your words strike him harder than any blade ever could.

"i hope i die first."

the moment you say it, he stops. every movement halts, every breath sharpens. his head tilts slightly, like he is assessing a threat - only this time, the threat is something he cannot fight, something he cannot defeat.

"you are being ridiculous," he says, carefully measured, but there is something beneath it - something tight, something raw, something almost panicked.

"damian-"

"no." his voice is sharper now, cutting through the air like a blade. his fingers clench at his sides, his jaw locking in that way it does when he is trying too hard to hold something in. "that is a weak way of thinking. a coward’s way of thinking."

"it’s not about being weak," you murmur, stepping closer. he doesn’t move away, doesn’t stop you, but his shoulders go tense beneath your touch. "it’s about the fact that i don’t want to live without you. that i don’t want to figure out how to keep going in a world that took you from me."

his breathing is uneven now, his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips. and for the first time in a long time, he does not know what to say. because damian has trained for every kind of battle, for every kind of loss, but he has never trained for this. he has never trained for the quiet, suffocating terror of loving someone so much that the thought of losing them feels worse than dying himself.

"you are not dying first," he finally says, low, firm, final. his grip on you tightens, pulling you closer. "that is not an option."

you exhale, shaking your head. "you can’t control that."

"the hell i can’t." his voice is rough, full of something dangerous, something desperate. he shifts, pressing his forehead against yours, his fingers trembling where they hold you. "i will not allow this world to take you from me."

"and if it takes you first?"

his silence is answer enough.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 does not speak often. she does not need to. her love is something quiet, something felt in the way she moves, in the way she touches, in the way she breathes. but tonight, she needs to hear your voice.

"i hope i die first."

she stops. completely.

her fingers, which had been absentmindedly tracing shapes against your skin, still. the gentle rise and fall of her breathing pauses. she does not speak, does not move, but you feel the way her heart pounds just a little harder against your back.

"why?" her voice is soft, careful, but there is something else beneath it. something fragile.

"because i don’t want to live without you," you admit, barely above a whisper. "i don’t want to wake up one day and realize you’re not here anymore. i don’t want to forget what your laugh sounds like, what it feels like to hold you."

cassandra swallows, her hands pressing more firmly against your sides, like she is physically keeping you close. she does not answer right away - because how could she?

"you would be okay."

"i wouldn’t."

she shifts, her breath warm against your shoulder, her arms wrapping around you like something desperate. "i would not be okay either."

you blink, turning slightly so you can look at her. her expression is unreadable, but her eyes - god, her eyes - are raw, open, honest.

"then what do we do?" you murmur, tracing your fingers against her wrist.

she tilts her head, considers you carefully. and then, finally, she leans in, presses a slow, deliberate kiss against your temple, and breathes;

"we stay."

and for now, that is enough.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

⋆˙⟡ 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 has been preparing to die since the night he was old enough to understand what loss felt like. he has carried death on his shoulders, worn it like a cloak, let it become a part of him in ways that no man should. but you? you are different.

you are not something he is willing to lose.

"i hope i die first."

the words slip into the space between you, quiet, barely above a whisper. but bruce hears everything. he always hears everything.

his whole body tenses, his fingers curling against the fabric of his suit. he does not react immediately - he never does. but you can see it, in the way his jaw tightens, in the way his breath slows, in the way his eyes darken like the mere thought of your absence is something he refuses to entertain.

"you don’t mean that," he says, but it is not a question.

"i do." you swallow, watching his face, trying to decipher what he’s thinking. it’s impossible, as it always is. "i don’t want to live in a world without you, bruce. i don’t want to know what it’s like to wake up alone, to reach for you and find nothing."

he exhales sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment - as if forcing the image from his mind. and then, when he opens them again, his gaze is sharp, steady, but there is something in it. something so painfully human.

"i won’t let that happen."

"you don’t get to choose that."

"i do." his voice is low, steady, but there is something unshakable beneath it. "i have spent my entire life ensuring that death takes me first. that it does not touch the people i love. i refuse to let it take you."

"bruce-"

"no." his grip on you tightens, not possessive, but grounding, like he is reminding himself that you are still here, still breathing. "you live. if something happens to me, you live. you fight. you move forward. that is what you do."

your throat tightens, your fingers gripping his arms. "you’re asking me for something i don’t think i’m strong enough to do."

bruce studies you for a long moment. and then, for the first time, his mask slips. his lips part slightly, his eyes soften, and when he speaks again, it is not batman who answers you. it is him.

"then i suppose i’ll have to make sure you never have to."

[seitmai]

Many thoughts “I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Fair 🤷🏻‍♀️

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

Truly a good question

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple. “Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad. “I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

Urgh that's actually really sweet of him

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

Uff the last sentence really hit

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

I think that's a good idea, also gives some control back to her

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

👀

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients.

Probably both lol

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

Dr. Cho is a good one 🫶🏻

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you. “Breathe,” you whispered.

I live that it mirrors how Bucky calmed her down before with the same reminder

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?” Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered. The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

Omg I just wanna give Dr. Cho a hug!! She is the first one to truly question Bucky and his authority, I applaud her for doing the right thing even if in this situation the cards are stacked against her ��🏻

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

100% valid on her part lol

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid.

Surprised would not even describe what I would feel in that moment

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

That's such a sweet thought

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?” “I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

She deserves and needs this just for her!

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked. “I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

What a sentiment to his concerns

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked. “Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

He is so in love

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered. “Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

Haha impeccable timing 🤭

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

I feel like Bucky is not a big thank you person lol

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.” Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.” “I like brownies,” Curtis said. You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.” “I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Haha I love Curtis already 🤭

Hold You Tight: Part 21

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 20 | Series Masterlist | Part 22

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky shows you something after the doctor looks you over.

Chapter Warnings: Aftermath of physical assault, tension, mention of violence and threats, inner turmoil, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and I feel like this chapter is short. Thank you again for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky rubbed your back, occasionally whispering sweet words when you didn't speak. After your exhausting cry fest, you resorted to sniffles and sighs. You wanted to hide away, which seemed cowardly. It was only fair after what you went through, but you also wanted to face the world. You were torn, and it was tiring.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered when your eyes slipped shut. “I know you're tired, but I need you to try to stay awake for me, okay?”

“And for Dr. Cho,” you said. It was probably good to stay awake in case you were showing any signs of a concussion. What sort of questions would she ask? How involved was she in Bucky’s world? “Where's Curtis?” you asked. You owed him a thank you at some point. Ray and Steve, too. Messed up situation or not they deserved a bit of your gratitude, right?

“He’s waiting to bring her up.”

“I’m surprised you didn't have Ray bring us back,” you commented. You were used to him being the one close by, and Bucky didn't seem to bring a lot of his other men around his place. At least not that you were aware of.

“Between you and I, Curtis isn't a huge fan of most of my friends. The less time he spends with them the better his mood is.” If you didn't know any better, you’d say Bucky sounded amused. You were also curious why Curtis still worked for him if he didn't like the crowd he ran with. “But he’ll go to the club with me later. He deserves to get the first hit in since he pulled that bastard off of you.”

Your stomach turned, but you felt better knowing he wouldn’t force you to go to the club considering he didn’t even want to say Clark’s name. “What are you going to do to him?”

You didn’t mean to shiver at the frost in his eyes, but you did. How could a look be so cold? “I’m not sure you want the details,” he replied. You weren't sure you wanted to know either. “What I can tell you is that he’s going to suffer and wish he was dead.”

You shivered again. “How am I meant to get used to this lifestyle?” you asked. You followed the rules of society like a normal person, but Bucky made his own rules. He wasn’t afraid to use his influence or violence to get what he wanted in life. He was almost shameless in it and how he manipulated people around him. That wasn’t you. It could never be you.

“We. How are we meant to get through this,” he corrected you. “And we do that one day at a time,” he said, like it was so simple.

“Aren’t you already used to this?” you asked. It was the life you imagined he grew up with thanks to his dad.

“I’m used to my lifestyle, but you’re out of your depth and I’m not used to this as being part of a couple. I’ve been selfish in how I’ve tried to ease you into this,” he said. You tried not to gape at him since he hadn’t eased you into anything at all. “But you’re home now and we’ll figure this out.”

“Does figuring things out mean you brush off what I ask for? Like going to work tomorrow?” you asked. It wasn’t wrong of you to want a normal day. Weren’t you owed that much?

He sighed, but it wasn’t out of annoyance. “I wasn’t trying to brush you off, Kotyonok. You went through something terrible tonight, and I thought staying home to rest and relax was the better option.”

You pondered his words. Maybe he wasn’t trying to control you now that you were home. He was concerned for your well being. “We have to find common ground,” you whispered. It was already going to be a life sentence being by his side, and you couldn’t live your life as a prisoner.

“Is that really a discussion you want to have tonight?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you glared. “I’m not saying that to insult you or dismiss your feelings. I just think tomorrow might be a better time to discuss it so we can both process everything.”

You didn’t want to say he was right. So much of what you had been through was because of his actions, but he was frightened by what happened, too. “I do want to say that Natasha offered to teach me self defense, and I think I’ll take her up on that.”

“You want Natasha to teach you?” he asked.

“Yeah. No one ever put their hands on me like this before and I want to be able to defend myself if it happens again,” you explained, hearing Bucky’s swift intake of breath. Maybe he could keep you safe, but you needed to help yourself however you could. “Natasha or one of her girls teaching me will be better than some guy.”

If some guy put you on your back the way Clark did who knew how you’d react. The way Bucky’s eyes darkened he didn’t want another guy touching you either. “As long as I can teach you how to use a gun and a knife.”

“A gun and a knife?” you asked before his phone went off.

“That should be Curtis and Dr. Cho. I’ll be right back.”

Turning your gaze toward the ceiling once he left you alone, you tried to quiet the sudden screaming in your mind. You wanted answers from Clark, from Zemo. You also fought the urge to tell him to quickly come back. Why was his presence suddenly soothing when you were still so upset?

You sat up when you heard footsteps followed by a gentle call of your name. “Hello. I’m Dr. Cho.” The gentle but strong voice matched the demeanor of the woman who entered the room. Bucky followed a couple of steps behind, and Curtis lingered in the doorway. “I understand you've been through quite the ordeal this evening.”

“She was attacked,” Bucky snarled, moving beside you again as the doctor set her bag down. “That’s a lot more than just some ordeal.”

“Bucky,” you whispered. The doctor meant no offense or harm.

“Of course. My apologies.” To her credit, she didn't look the least bit afraid or put off. She was either used to Bucky’s antics or used to difficult patients. “Can you please tell me your name and date of birth?”

You answered the question easily, but didn’t say anything else as she checked your heartbeat and blood pressure. She wasn’t your normal doctor, so it wasn’t like she had access to your medical records. Did she?

“And can you tell me what happened tonight?”

Your eyes flickered to Bucky and Curtis. Both were watching you with a mixture of anger and sympathy. “Well…” It took a moment to really begin. “Cl… A man was waiting for me when I got back to my apartment. I told him to leave, but…”

“Breathe,” Bucky whispered, taking your hand and silently urging you to continue whenever you were ready.

You wanted to breathe normally and not think about Clark or anything else.

Dr. Cho didn't take her eyes off you. “Would you prefer to speak with just me?” she asked, cutting Bucky off with a single glare when he opened his mouth to argue. “I know you didn't put your hands on her. I just want her to be comfortable.”

“It's okay,” you said. Even if you wanted to speak to the doctor alone you knew Bucky would hover nearby. “He grabbed my wrist and yanked me back hard enough that I fell to the ground,” you continued, showing her so she could look it over. “I may have hit my head when that happened.”

She turned your wrist over, looking for swelling or tenderness as you tested your mobility. It didn’t hurt as much as it had earlier, which had to be a good sign. “Have you been experiencing any nausea? Trouble thinking? Sensitivity to light?” she asked, getting a small flashlight to check your eyes.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you replied.

“Did anything else happen?”

“He choked me,” you said above a whisper, skipping over the fact that he put a hand on your thigh. Nothing had actually happened.

“Everything he did to you, I’m going to make it a hundred times worse,” Bucky said through his teeth.

Curtis took a step into the room at that point and your nerves crept up when you glanced at Bucky. His nostrils flared and his metal hand curled so tight so you hear the gears turn. You squeezed his hand in the hope that it would ease some of the tension. Maybe it was to soothe the both of you.

“Breathe,” you whispered.

Anger remained on his face when he took a deep breath. You didn’t think he’d fully calm down until he took his aggression out on Clark. And what about Zemo, if he was really involved?

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” the doctor said, handing you a tissue before she checked your throat. When did tears fill your eyes again? “Are you experiencing any chest pains? Difficulty breathing?”

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

“And the man who did this to you, is he-”

“I’m handling it,” Bucky said, leaving no room to argue.

The doctor barely concealed a sigh, the only crack in her cool demeanor. “Understood,” she whispered, finishing her exam. Maybe she was aware of some of what Bucky did, but didn’t approve. “No broken bones or anything of that nature, but you may feel sore tomorrow. Do you have any allergies?”

“I’m not allergic to pain meds if that’s what you're asking.”

“Well, I recommend you rest tomorrow. If you start to feel anything out of the ordinary, I want to know right away so we can take you to the hospital if necessary.”

You sighed. If the doctor was telling you to rest, there was no way Bucky would let you out of the penthouse for work. “I’ll rest tomorrow.”

“And could someone please get her a snack and some water? I’d like to make sure she can keep food down,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Bucky offered before Curtis could move.

Dr. Cho leaned in a little once Bucky left the room. “Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything at all?”

Her voice was quiet, casual, but there was something in her eyes that said she wasn’t just asking about this incident. Was she trying to help or was this a sick test to prove your loyalty? With Curtis nearby and being in Bucky’s penthouse, you wouldn’t risk it. “I just want to get some rest and recover from what happened,” you answered.

The doctor nodded after a minute. “If you do want to talk-”

“I got your favorite,” Bucky announced, deliberately inserting himself between you and Dr. Cho. “So, she’s okay by your standards?”

“Yes, overall,” she said after a moment. “But I want to make sure-”

“I’ll make sure she can keep food down and I’ll call if anything changes,” he smiled, nodding over to Curtis. “He’ll show you out.”

You furrowed your brows. Why was he dismissing her so swiftly after making such a fuss over having you looked over? “I appreciate you taking the time to come here. Thank you.”

The doctor gave you a smile as she packed up. “You’re very kind,” she said, daring to look at Bucky again. “I’ll be expecting a call if anything changes.”

Bucky’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “My girl is a lot stronger than she believes herself to be, but I take her health very seriously. If something changes, you’ll know.”

Tension spiked before the doctor gave you a nod and brushed past Curtis. The man quickly turned to follow her, leaving you and Bucky alone once again. “Do you have a problem with Dr. Cho?” you asked.

“No, I don’t. She’s one of the best doctors there is. I think she has patched us all up at some point,” he answered, bringing the snack to your lips and smiling once you took a bite. “But she’s similar to you in a sense that she has a good heart, so she isn’t always comfortable with some of what goes on.”

That could’ve been why you sensed that she wasn’t just asking you about this evening. Maybe she was looking for a way to help. “Do you trust her?”

“I trust that she’ll do what she’s told,” he replied.

You had trouble swallowing the next bite at those words. People were under his thumb whether they wanted to be or not. “From the little I know of her, she seems like a good doctor.”

“Always seeing the best in everyone,” he smiled. That wasn’t going to change. “Can I show you something now that you’re home that’s kind of important? I can carry you if you can't walk.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I think I can manage. What would you like to show me?” you asked. If he pulled his pants down…

He made sure he had the rest of the snack and water in one hand, helping you up with the other. “Do you remember how I said last night that I didn’t want you wandering into the den because I was having it redone?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You hadn’t gone off to explore anyway since you went to the living room and ended up riding his thigh.

“Well, it was pretty much done. Before I beat the shit out of the guy following us this morning, I had one last finishing touch done,” he explained, slowly walking you down the hall. “Are you feeling okay? It doesn’t bother you to walk?”

“I’m fine,” you said, almost forgetting that he had already beat someone up today. It seemed so long ago. “But I don’t understand why you’re showing me this if I should be-”

He pressed a finger to your lips. “Close your eyes, Kotyonok. Please.”

Taking a breath, you let your eyes close and gasped when his lips touched each eyelid. You let him take your hand and guide you forward. And wasn’t this how it had been since the beginning? Doing what Bucky wanted even when you fought it?

“Open your eyes,” he whispered.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust to the brightness in the room. Your heart swelled as you looked around, the warm glow making you smile. Books lined the walls, and the couch and chairs were tailored to your comfort and style. There was even a nook by the window and blankets.

“You…” You blinked away the sudden tears.

Bucky’s face fell. “I promise I’m not trying to overwhelm you. I only wanted your day to end on a good note for you.”

It was meant to be a good day, and a wonderful time with your friends. “You built me my own library?”

“I wanted you to have a sanctuary in our home. A space just for you,” he explained, running a hand along the back of the couch. “None of my men are allowed in here and I have to ask permission before I come in.”

Your mouth fell open. Was he serious? “So, if I want to be alone and I come here, you can’t come in if I say no?”

He nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you want.”

You could hardly believe it. Was this space truly your own? “It’s beautiful,” you said, taking another look around. For a second, you felt like you were living in part of Beauty and the Beast. “Thank you.”

Bucky beamed at you, almost as bright as the light in the room. “There’s one more thing,” he said, setting the water and snack down. He pressed a discreet button by one of the shelves, which opened to reveal a metal door.

“Is that…”

“It’s a panic room,” he said, pressing four numbers into the keypad before that door slid open. “When I had the penthouse constructed, it was one of the first things I had put in. Can never be too careful, right?”

You slowly looked around. “So, you redesigned the room connected to the panic room to give to me?” you asked.

“I told you your safety matters above all else,” he said, holding a hand out for you. You took it after slightly hesitating. The fact that he gave up what was likely one of the safest rooms in the entire penthouse in order for you to have a sanctuary made your head spin. “I had the combination changed to your birthday.”

You took a look inside, your mouth falling open again. You weren’t sure what to expect, but the space looked like another small den. It had a couch, a television, a fridge and microwave. It even had a bed.

“You really are prepared, aren’t you?” you asked.

“Prepared, yes, but I had nothing to lose before,” he said, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. He barely grazed your skin, almost testing to see if you’d flinch. “I have everything to lose now.”

“Am I really worth that much?” you asked. More than the power he wielded, more than his wealth?

He leaned in and your heart raced, but you didn’t feel trapped. Not this time. “You’re worth everything and more,” he whispered.

“Boss?” Curtis called out from the hall before Bucky could kiss you.

You dipped your head down, both of you letting out a breath. “I should finish my snack and get some rest,” you said. You needed it. “But, really, thank you. This is very special to me.”

It didn’t make up for what happened, but maybe it was a start of something new. You didn’t want to dwell on that tonight. You were too emotional, too tired, too vulnerable.

“I want you to be happy here,” he whispered, opting to kiss your forehead since your lips were out of reach. “I should see what Curtis wants.”

“Oh, I want to say something to him,” you said, pulling away from Bucky before he could stop you. “Curtis?” you asked, spotting him just outside of the den.

The man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Yeah?”

“I just wanted to say thank you for helping me tonight,” you said. He looked stunned. Did Bucky or the others not express gratitude toward him? “I don’t know if I can ever repay you for that.”

“Nothing to pay me back for.” He cleared his throat. “Just doing my job.”

You smiled softly. “Do you like brownies? It isn’t much, but I do make a decent batch of brownies and it would be a small token of gratitude.”

Curtis and Bucky both looked stunned. “You’re offering him brownies?” Bucky asked, glaring at the other man. “I haven’t had her brownies yet.”

“I like brownies,” Curtis said.

You smothered a giggle when the dangerous man pouted. “Oh, don’t pout. I didn’t say you wouldn’t get any. Curtis just gets the first try,” you said, poking Bucky’s arm. “And maybe I haven’t had a chance to make them because you’ve been so busy tailoring my schedule to your liking.”

“I like her, boss. She’s a keeper.”

Bucky breathed through his nose. “Why the fuck did you call for me?”

“Thor’s getting antsy.” He rolled his eyes. “Wants to know when you’re heading over.”

“I can’t leave you by yourself and I don’t want to drag you to the club,” Bucky said.

You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone and there was no way he would leave Curtis or Ray or another man there with you, at least not tonight. “What about Natasha? Can she come over? If not, maybe I can get a nap in the club office.”

“But-”

“You said for them to shut the club down, so it’s not like music or the lights will bother me. And this way I’ll be close by,” you said. And it wasn’t like they’d beat Clark up right in front of you.

“Maybe,” Bucky said, flexing his fingers when his phone went off. “If that’s Thor…”

You could hear his teeth grind as he read the screen. “What is it?”

“It’s Zemo,” he said, your stomach dropping. “And he wants to talk.”

How long before Bucky answers Zemo? And what do we think of the library? Is he leaving you at home or taking you to the club? ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[arandomao3user]

. . . Yeah, this is just me wanting to spread the canon "Tim falls asleep everywhere", " Tim has hallucinations", and Timbern propaganda. You cannot stop me.

—

Tim, staring intensely across the table at Bernard:

Bernard, talking about his latest conspiracy involving how the Titanic never sank BECAUSE IT DIDN'T DUDE IT WAS THE SISTER SHIP OF THE TITANIC BECAUSE ALL THE RICH PEOPLE WHO WERE SUPPOSED TO GO ON JUST BACKED OUT AND THE INSURANCE MONEY DUDE AND THE SIDE THINGS DIDN'T MATCH YOU DON'T GET IT THE RICH ARE OUT FOR MONEY AND WILL HAVE OUR BLOOD IN ORDER TO GET MORE—:

Tim, abruptly falls asleep, face falling into his pasta:

Bernard, horrified screaming:

—

Tim: It's not a health issue, just sometimes my head gets really light and I pass out and or hallucinate dead people.

Dick: You hallucinate dead people to? Twinning!

Jason: What the f#-% is wrong with this family?

Tim: Shut up, you attacked me at Titan's Tower when I was especially sleep deprived and painted the walls in my blood!

Jason:

Dick:

Jason: I NEVER F#-#%#-# DID THAT! MY WHOLE THING IS NOT HURTING KIDS, SURE I BEAT YOUR A#- ON OCCASION BUT I'D NEVER BRUTALLY ATTACK YOU IN TITAN'S TOWER, OF ALL PLACES!

Tim, pointing to his neck: Explain this scar then!

Dick: Tim, that's a paper cut you got from falling asleep on a calendar.

Tim: A likely story.

—

Bernard and Alfred in the kitchen, preparing dinner:

Cass and Duke, talking at the table:

Damian, setting the table:

Dick: I'm glad you made it for family dinner, Tim! It's been a while.

Jason: And Bernard?

Dick:

Dick, who is happy his brother is happy in a relationship, but also he doesn't trust Bernard for a damn minute because he's a freak in a culty and kinky way: I'm glad you made it for family dinner, Tim!

Jason, snickering:

Tim, who did not get any sleep last night:

Tim, passes out:

Bernard, hearing the thump from the kitchen: My bad.

Damian, snapping a picture:

—

Tired Tiny! Tim: I can do patrol tonight! No worries!

Bruce, exhausted himself, has been crying all day, is only 20% sober: According to the monitor I had installed into your wrist to track your vitals, pulse, track you, and predict how many hours you sleep each night—

Tim: What?

Bruce: You only got two hours of sleep last night, and woke up four times in between those two hours. No patrol.

Tim: I can so patrol! D:<

Bruce: I said no.

Tim: I said yes.

Bruce: Who's in charge here?

Tim: Alfred, but he isn't here right now, and he made ME in charge when he isn't around, and I say I can go.

Bruce: I'm the adult.

Tim: Nuh uh!

Bruce: Fine. Fine! See how much I care! None of these kids ever listen to me!

Tim: Yay! :D

Tim, immediately after goes falling down and passing out:

Bruce: ALFRED!!! IT HAPPENED AGAIN!!!!!

—

Tim, glaring at a cup of coffee: It speaks sinful thoughts to me...

Bernard: Babe, you don't like coffee.

Tim: Maybe I'm a masochist.

Bernard: I think I discovered that already when we took that weekend vacation to Italy and spent every hour of it in that hotel room, but that's not important right now.

Tim: We should go back there, they had good room service...

Bernard: They did, but that's still not the point. Put the coffee down.

Tim: We're out of zesti.

Bernard: I will get more, just don't drink that c#&%, you don't like it!

Tim, makes direct eye contact and sips it:

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard:

Tim, choking immediately: THAT'S SO BAD!

Bernard: Stephanie warned me about this.

Tim, gagging into the sink:

Bernard: Haven't heard that sound in a while.

Tim: I'll never know peace again.

Bernard, lifting his finger to show his engagement ring: You signed up for it.

Tim, groaning: I meant the coffee, that was terrible.

Bernard: I told you.

Tim: You told me.

—

Tim and Bernard making out in Wayne Manors library

Jason, slamming open the door:

Jason, pointing a finger to Bernard: STOP DEFILING MY BROTHER!

Jason, pointing a finger to Tim: STOP MAKING OUT NEXT TO FRANKENSTEIN OR I WILL MAKE TITAN'S TOWER A REAL EVENT THAT HAPPENED!

Tim, still holding onto Bernard's hair: IT DID HAPPEN! YOU BROKE MY BONES AND SLIT MY THROAT!

Jason: Then where's the EVIDENCE!?

Tim, pointing to his neck: RIGHT HERE!

Bernard, still holding onto Tim's hips: That's a hickey, babe.

Tim:

Tim: IT'S UNDER THE HICKEY—

—

Bruce: New rule that's being enforced by Alfred.

*Groans from all the Batkids*

Duke: Nah, this doesn't apply to me since I got my Mom back.

Bruce: You don't even know what it is yet.

Jason: Your Mom's back?

Duke: Yup, helped her out and she's pretty good now.

Dick: Nice.

Duke: Thanks, man.

Bruce: ANYWAYS the rule is that in order to patrol we all need a minimum of six hours of sleep.

Stephanie: I'm in college and a vigilante, I should be excluded from this for college alone!

Dick, sweating: I don't even get six hours of sleep a month...

Jason: Ha, losers, I sleep amazing at night!

Cass: Lies, you cry yourself to sleep and beg for it to take you and write poetry at two in the morning about how sleep won't take you and not even death wants to keep you.

Jason:

Dick:

Bruce:

Steph:

Duke: You okay?

Jason: WHY IS THIS RULE BEING ENFORCED?!

Tim, wandering in, tripping over his own feet like a newborn giraffe:

Tim, stumbling to the bat computer to stare at the screen for exactly twelve and a half seconds:

Tim: Capitalism is at it's end stages and we're all doomed because of the American experiment.

Tim, promptly passing out, papers falling alongside him:

Bruce: That's why.

Damian, snapping a picture:

—

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Back (Sam Winchester x female reader)

You get to have Sam in a special way that no one else does.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

Rated E. 1k words. Pegging. Sam's tectonic ass back muscles. Our boy's getting treated.

Anyone who thinks Sam Winchester looks good from the front hasn’t seen his back, you think, as you run your hands up over the miles of tanned skin, from the cusp of his downright delectable ass over his spine to the mountains of rippling muscle between his shoulder blades. It’s actually shocking to you how much you have under-appreciated this part of your lover so far and you swear to yourself that it will never happen again. Especially not when Sam thrusts back, meeting you halfway when you, well, your appendage, enters him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice broken and perfect. You lean forward, continue running your hands over his back. You don’t even have to hold yourself up, can simply use him to steady yourself, since Sam is doing that for the both of you, tensed, thick arms flexing with his movements. You lower your face, let your lips run along his skin.

For some reason, having him in this position makes you feel even smaller compared to the tall and broad hunter, but it also makes you feel in control, and the combination of that is just delicious.

Sam thrusts back again as you thrust forward, as the dildo you have attached to your harness enters him again. He grunts, a beautiful sound, especially knowing that it comes from what you’re doing to him. Your hands wander back to his narrow hips. You’ve found a rhythm, your own hips moving back and forth in a nice, easy flow and the way each push, each pivot makes Sam’s beautiful body react makes you finally understand why he loves doing this to you.

“You’re making me feel so good,” Sam grunts, and one of his hands leaves the mattress, and you know it goes to his front, to his cock, which you know is hard and leaking.

You haven’t touched him there, not for a while, only earlier when you were getting him nice and relaxed. You kneeled in front of Sam who was standing up, mouth on his dick and hand pushed in-between his ass cheeks, fingering him open. You let him drop from your mouth at some point, only looked up at him. Built like a goddamn Greek god, the prettiest face you’ve ever seen and the kindest soul that exists in this world, and his lips were parted and brow knotted because you were making him feel good, were allowing him some indulgence.

It makes you wonder if this is what people feel when they have a religious epiphany – you were put on this earth to bring Sam Winchester as much pleasure and happiness as he brings you.

And if Sam throwing his head back now, you grabbing him by the thick hair at his neck, the vibrating groan that leaves him and the continued flexing of his muscles is any indicator, you’re doing a damn good job at it.

“You look so fucking sexy like this, Sam,” you say, your own voice breathy even though technically, you’re not being stimulated, but technically doesn’t account for the intense pressure in you that makes you feel like you could come from this, just from this.

“I love making you feel good,” you continue, your fingernails scraping over the back of Sam’s head, only to grab him again. “Love to fuck you in your beautiful ass, make you come all over my hands.”

Sam and you have only done this a few times, a couple of intense sessions of kink exploration leading him to finally reveal his wish for you to peg him, which you were very excited about, so you’re still figuring out the dirty talk.

You’re not shy about complimenting Sam, not by any stretch, but you want to make sure you say the right things, make sure he doesn’t regret sharing this little wish with you because it would be a real shame if for some reason he wanted to stop. And that’s not just because previous experience lets you know that once Sam comes, he’ll take over, basically tear the harness from you and eat you out within an inch of your life, with a vigor that is almost violent. It’s because this, this part, you love.

You see Sam’s ass flexing, and goddamn it, you want to sink your teeth into his cheeks. Tempting, maybe for another time, but for now, you reach around him as best you can. It’s a little tough with the difference in size between you two, but Sam is already jerking himself off, and more than anything you lay your hand over his, involve yourself even if he is doing the work.

It slips out of you before you even really know you’re going to say it: “Love splitting you open like this and making you all mine, Sam,” you moan.

It hits your brain a second later, what exactly you said, but the next second Sam grunts, the thrusts he was meeting you with stutter and you see the grand finale of those goddamn back muscles tense and clench like a time lapse of tectonic plates meeting. You’ve never said anything quite as specific as this before, but it seems to work for Sam as he collapses under you.

The dildo slips out of him, and you kiss your way up his body. He’s lying on his side, eyes closed, breathing heavily, and you peck him a few times on the cheek and jaw, making him smile. He blinks his eyes open and looks at you and you have another one of those moments where you wonder how you’ve been lucky enough to find him. You’ve been having a lot of these lately.

Sam pulls you close, post-come bliss making him cuddly and then, as expected and hoped for, his fingers find the harness, start opening it.

“I’m gonna make you come until you see stars,” he says into your mouth, and you can’t help but grin.

The harness doesn’t go far, just dropped next to the bed, and on this night, for the first but not the last time, you get to use it twice.

[howdeepthegrave]

Modern Agathario AU where Rio arrives a bit early to collect Agatha for their third ever date and Nicky, of all people, answers the door. Rio knew Agatha has a kid, but she was not quite prepared to meet him this soon.

"You Nick?" she finally asks.

"I am Nicky. You Rio who is gonna take my mama to the golfing?"

"Uh, minigolf, yeah."

Rio can feel this four year old judging her.

"I like your hat," Nicky says.

Rio adjusts her baseball cap and smiles.

"I like your scrunchie."

"I don't like haircuts," Nicky explains.

They just continue to stand there until Agatha appears at the top of the stairs.

"Nicholas Andrew Harkness! You know you're not allowed to answer the door on your own!"

"Mama, it's only Rio."

Agatha rushes down the stairs and pulls Nicky back, smiling at Rio.

"The sitter's not doing such a good job of sitting, I guess."

"'S okay by me. Sorry if I got here too early or..."

"No, no, it's fine, come in."

There's a teenaged boy flopped on the sofa, frantically texting as tears pour down his face. Agatha looks livid.

"William, you're here to watch Nicky!"

"I... Oh, hey Ms. Vidal."

"Hey, William. You studied up for that quiz next Tuesday?"

"Uh, yeah. I just... I've been having a rough week. Eddie and I had a fight."

Agatha goes and collects her purse and pulls out a roll of cash.

"William, just go home, okay? Here, that's everything for tonight, but only because I'm a sucker for a sad kid whose eyeliner is running."

William takes the cash and bolts, leaving Agatha, Rio, and Nicky standing in the living room.

"I pro'ly can babysit myself, Mama," Nicky says. "I will watch good cartoons only."

Agatha actually laughs at that and bends down to pick her son up onto her hip.

"Rio, I'm sorry, looks like we'll have to reschedule..."

"Couldn't we just take Nicky with us?" Rio shrugs. "It's minigolf. He might enjoy it."

Agatha looks shocked.

"You'd... You'd be okay with that?"

"Sure. So long as you are."

So they all go out to minigolf together. They have a pretty great time, they eat a little junk food, which Nicky LOVES because Mama almost never lets him have junk food, and when Nicky is tired at the end of the evening, it's Rio who carries him back to the car because, as Nicky says, "You're taller than Mama, so we'll get there faster."

When they get back to Agatha's, Rio walks with them to the door and steps inside to wait while Agatha struggles a sleeping Nicky into pajamas and puts him to bed. Agatha comes back down to tell Rio good night and thank her for putting up with Nicky.

"It was a great night," Rio assures her, "and I hope we can do it all again sometime."

Most of Agatha and Rio's dates after that are just them, but occasionally Rio arranges something so Nicky can come along too. Sometimes it's minigolf again, but sometimes it's a museum or a walk in the park or any number of other fun family activities.

When Rio decides to propose a little over a year later, she talks to Nicky about it first, just to ask if he'll help. Agatha has made it clear if and when a proposal happens, she wants no big showy stuff. She just wants it to be like a normal day. So, Rio comes over one night to cook dinner for all of them, and she lets Nicky help her. Halfway through, she hands him something from her pocket.

"Go and take this to your mom and ask her what she thinks, mijo."

So Nicky takes the item to Agatha.

"Rio said to give this to you and you should say what you think of it, Mama."

Agatha takes whatever Nicky's handing her without really looking up from her book, but the moment she realizes it's a small velvet-covered box, her heart starts to race. She opens it, sees what's inside, and dispatches Nicky back to the kitchen with her reply.

"Rio, Mama says she'll take it. She says absolutely."

They get married that summer at their friend Jen's place in the Hamptons.

[peachesnpears95]

NAH, THE FANDOM NEEDS TO DO BETTER - IN ACTUALLY PAYING ATTENTION TO WHAT'S HAPPENING ON SCREEN! INSTEAD OF BLINDLY THROWING OUT BLAME BETWEEN WUKONG AND MACAQUE!

I am just done with this; I try to be as chill and as agreeable with people as possible and try to see other people's viewpoints, and try to get behind their thoughts and opinions as best I can- but no more. I'm sick of this Macaque slander and defamation.

THIS ENDS NOW.

Alright so, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on the whole fandom! I'm taking Wukong AND Macaque away from y'all until you can play nice and stop bashing on both of them and misunderstanding their characters and saying foul things that are untrue and is utter character- assassination.

Neither of them deserves it!

But right now, we're talking about Macaque, I'll probably talk about Wukong at a later date- but for now we focus on Macaque.

So, let's get into it.

I have to disagree with this person for several reasons.

Forgive me if this seems hostile, I am just very passionate and I am in no way trying to start a fandom war. I just can't sit back and watch Macaque get slandered, misunderstood and treated like he's the worse of the worst by the fandom anymore.

I'm sorry but I have to step in and say something, because I would be remise if I didn't and I can't STAND to see something like this floating around, perpetuating that Macaque is some type of fucking abusive, vindictive, and evil character that hasn't tried to be better or make amends in any way shape or form- because it's not true at all.

"Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims"

^^^

my fucking whole ass, no.

I am sorry op but this is a fucking shit take and completely and utterly false and wrong.

All Macaque has done SINCE being freed from the LBD's control is work to be BETTER and make amends through his actions- and y'all and many other ppl of the fandom are really gonna go and ignore all of it?

SERIOUSLY?!?!

NAHHHH! NAHHHHH NAHHHHHHH! Macaque has risked his life for the others multiple times, and put himself in danger over and over again for not only MK, and Wukong but also for the others too. Just because we don't see him VERBALLY apologize on screen, doesn't mean his actions don't speak. There are so many instances where Macaque's actions speak LOUDER than words ever could or will. You can SAY things, but unless you actually DO something to back those words up- they will mean nothing.

If Macaque hadn't finally broken free from the LBD and went up against Wukong and put his life on the line to keep him distracted, then MK and the others would have been fucked.

Also, you all realize that Macaque's HEART was never in playing the big bad villain, even MK said as much. Macaque only did those things to survive. The LBD held his life over his head and told him to fucking DANCE with death. Macaque was backed into a corner, with nowhere to go, and no allies on his side to help him.

He was literally all alone, trying to keep himself alive. Macaque bringing the mayor to the LMK gang should speak volumes on Macaque's TRUE character. Macaque is a complex, morally gray character, and it sucks to see posts like this paining him in such a black/white way.

Macaque was an unwilling shadow puppet for the LBD, and he only did what he thought he had to, in order to survive. Because who was he going to turn to for help? It's like when you back a caged animal into a corner, they're going to bite. Don't you lie to me and say you wouldn't do about anything to survive, even if it meant having to do things that weren't 100% morally correct. Like if you were pushed far enough, if your life was on the razor's edge, wouldn't you fight for it?

Like yes he hurt people, yes he threatened Mei, yes he did a lot of fucked up things- were they right? NO. But it's understandable why he did what he did, he WANTED to live.

Like should he have just given the fuck up and died, again? Is that what you wanted from him? Cause that's fucked up. He's literally a victim (just like everyone else) and was being used and abused by the Lady Bone Demon. He had his freedom and agency taken away from him unwillingly and forced to fight to survive.

But the SECOND he gets free from the LBD's grasp. What does he do? He HELPS MK and the others. He chooses to stay and fight with them. Chooses to BE BETTER and help RIGHT the wrongs he (unwillingly) played a part in. And he does this knowing Wukong is waiting for him. The very person who killed him. He fights Wukong even though he's terrified, and this time he's willing to risk his life, because he actually CARES about Wukong and MK both. They're probably the two people he cares for the most at this point and he's willing to die freely just to save them.

He doesn't really have much of a relationship with the others at the time, but he knows they're important to Wukong and MK, so he also risks everything to help them too.

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Then he helped MK go into the scroll -reliving memories that were probably as painful for him to relive (as they were for Wukong) but he did it anyways, to help find Wukong and bring him back. Which I might add was the final push Wukong NEEDED to get out of the scroll.

And then he helped Mei fight Peng to give everyone else a chance to do what THEY needed to do in the plan, so Wukong and MK could get to Azure.

Making sure it went off without a hitch, risking HIMSELF like how everyone else was risking themselves.

Peng wasn't fucking playing, that bird was aiming to kill with those strikes. Peng even called Macaque out.

Asking him if there was nothing Wukong could do that could break his hold over him. And the answer is NO. Not even DEATH broke that hold.

Macaque is ride or die for Wukong still, and would risk his life for Wukong's sake -even though Wukong is an immortal being who can't die- I'll BET MY GRAVE AND ANYTHING ELSE, THIS! Macaque would throw himself in front of Wukong to shield him just because he cares so much about him. He would also probably do it for MK too, in fact he DOES put himself at risk for MK later on to try and save him from himself, and we will get into that soon!

_ _ _ _ _

And then later down the line he let the others escape Ling Ji's prison by literally putting himself in the line of fire and letting himself get captured instead! He SHADOW TELEPORTS THEM OUT BECAUSE HE KNOWS THEY WON'T GO IF HE DIDN'T.

THEN HE DOESN'T RUN OFF, HE STAYS THERE TO BUY THEM TIME. MACAQUE STAYS TO FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF PUTTING HIMSELF ON ThE LINE. HE CHARGES STRIGHT FORWARD LIKE A WARRIOR WITHOUT EVEN KNOWING WHAT IS WAITING FOR HIM!

HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT IS COMING! ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN TO HIM/ANYTHING COULD BE WAITING FOR HIM IN THERE. BUT HE STANDS HIS GROUND.

And then when Wukong is being tormented by the 100 eyed demon? Macaque doesn't even HESITATE to help him from the 100 eyed demon's control. HE IMMEDIATELY comes to Wukong's side to free him so they can go find MK.

He was also the one to strike out at the 100 eyed demon when they DID find MK. Mei might have threatened the demon first, but Macaque was the one that just went STRAIGHT to strikes.

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AND THEN- Tell me who is it that uses his shadow powers over and over against the 9 Headed Demon, trying to protect MK the only way he can while he's literally tied up and was the ONLY one who could ACTUALLY do anything about it?

And who was the one that BROKE out of the chaos powers to KEEP MK from throwing himself into the pillar initially- oh that's right, Macaque!

Look at him, Macaque is GENUINELY fucking terrified.

Because he's seen this happen before, with himself. Macaque has been in MK's position before. An emotional spiral of self-destruction that ended up with him dead.

Macaque KNOWS from experience because HE LITERALLY went through the same thing before. And didn't have anyone to let him know that not EVERYTHING was on him. That he didn't have to be alone and do things by himself. That he could have found a better way, a different way. A path that wouldn't have led him attacking the Pilgrims and Wukong- and then right into the grave.

Macaque knows what's happening, he has since the start of S5.

Macaque let himself spiral in the past due to feeling neglected emotionally, and he went down a path of self-destruction that ended up with him dead (he even says as such in the show during s4) when he was talking about Wukong meeting Tang Sanzang.

Macaque has had to WATCH MK go through the same fucking thing here as he did.

He KNEW at the start nothing good would come of MK's spiral.

That's WHY he told Wukong to be better, because he was speaking from past experience. (Not to be spiteful or vindictive or whatever.)

Macque was truly concerned for MK and he doesn't want what happened between him and Wukong to happen between MK and Wukong- because he cares about the Kid so much even if he doesn't say it.

Wukong has been shown time and time again he's not the best at reading people, and that sometimes he prefers to cheekily brush things off without really listening to anyone else, only getting tunnel-focused on the task and hand.

And forgetting to really listen to the concerns of his friends/family, because he is just focusing on protecting them instead of actually taking their thoughts/feelings/emotions into consideration. ((We can also see this during the Samadhi fire arc, where he keeps the fourth ring a secret- MEI EVEN CALLS HIM OUT FOR IT))

I am not saying that Wukong doesn't care, he in fact cares a lot, but he just forgets to actually let the people he cares for ACTUALLY know.

This is what happened to Macaque.

Wukong brushed off his feelings every time he tried to voice his concerns, or ignored him, instead of actually listening to him. He unintentionally neglected Macaque's feelings as he sought out immortality and to take down the Jade Emperor.

Macaque isn't just pulling this from nowhere. This is a fucking pattern form Wukong, we see it on screen, we see him do this. Unintentional or not, Wukong neglected Macaque's emotions and made him feel like he meant NOTHING to Wukong. This is what Macaque has been afraid of since getting to know MK, that MK would end up being neglected just like him. Remember his shadow play? "The Hero and the Warrior were like the Sun and the Moon. Their light, a protective glow, shining upon the world. Together, there was nothing that could stop the two of them. Either in the Celestial Realms or on Earth. As time went on, the Hero attained power beyond comprehension. As the Hero's light grew, so too did his shadow. And soon, the Warrior was cast in that shadow. In the darkness, the Warrior was forgotten by the Hero." "Well, with ol' Monkey King not around, I thought someone should teach you a lesson. Ah, MK, you really are dense, aren't you? You saw a story about a hero who got handed everything, who didn't have to work for anything, and you thought you were the other guy? The second the Hero got real power; he couldn't care less about his friends. That's you, bud."

"Oh, did you just realize they were missing? Classic hero maneuver. Maybe it's just me but these guys don't look too happy about being left in the shadow of the great Monkie Kid."

Everyone thinks Macaque is lying or embellishing, but he's not.

Not really, he's just showing it from his perspective, which is the only one he's got- speaking from his past experiences about how he was unintentionally left feeling neglected.

Macaque was quite literally projecting his own emotional neglect onto MK. To Macaque, Wukong forgot who/why he was doing all of that for. He felt abandoned and cast aside by Wukong. Because Wukong never listened, he brushed off his feelings, and it obviously left Macaque with emotional scars, due to his best friend's neglect.

Wukong did WRONG by Macaque, by accidentally neglecting him.

This is what Macaque has started fearing for MK, why he's so tough on Wukong to be better, because he can SEE it. He can see what happened to himself, happening to MK. The Kid is on a path of self-destruction, and if he doesn't say or do anything, then the past will happen ALL OVER again. This is why Macaque was rightfully fucking angry and pissed off when he asked Wukong if he ever once questioned why MK had all his powers and could lift his staff, and where he even came from. All because Macaque doesn't want a repeat of the past. He doesn't want MK's emotions to spiral out of control and lead him down a dark path that might end up in his death.

Macaque has come to genuinely love and care for MK and doesn't want him to THROW his life away. HE EVEN BEGS - and LOOKS and SOUNDS like he's going to CRY when he's trying to stop MK. He's so desperate to save MK from himself, because no one TRIED saving him- no one CARED enough to. But MK has so many people who care, and he needs to know that! MK NEEDS TO KNOW IT'S NOT ALL ON HIM!

Macaque has BEEN HERE before. He has LIVED this. He KNOWS how it will END.

He's trying so hard because he cares about MK. and he knows Wukong does too, and the others. And he can't just like MK do this- Macaque CAN'T let MK do what he did and destroy himself.

Then who is it that uses his shadow powers AGAIN to free EVERYONE! So Wukong can go after MK- AH RIGHT MACAQUE! Macaque isn't even concerned about himself in the moment, he doesn't care how he's feeling, doesn't give himself a second thought. All he needs is for someone to go after MK - because he can't fucking do it in his current condition.

Selflessly, Macaque rejects Wukong's concern (what he's wanted for centuries, the thing he's truly wanted most- for Wukong to actually show genuine concern over his wellbeing, without trying to play it off and be cheeky/brush it off- to actually be serious) all in favor of telling Wukong to LEAVE and stop MK.

Macaque WAS right all along what would happen if things continued like they were.

He truly saw the real and deep extent of MK's self-destruction before ANYONE else- before Wukong, or his other family/friends. The others were concerned, sure, but they didn't understand the true severity of it, not until MK is about to sacrifice himself.

But Macaque, deep down, understood where this might lead MK. That MK might fall from the edge, with no one to catch him. Which is why he was so desperate to catch MK as he fell, because no one caught him when he did!

Macaque's spiral destroyed him, he knows what it's like. He lived through what MK did. He lived the path of self-destruction centuries ago. Macaque saw himself in MK, and feared where it would lead MK. Feared he would do something that got himself killed.

AND IT DID!

MK DID jump into the pillar, because he still believed he had to do it alone, that it was all on him. MK went down the path that Macaque did, and he almost DIED for it. (in fact, technically he WAS dead, if you think about it)

Macaque never wanted this for MK, because he knows what it's like to die, then come back to life. The physical wounds might have healed, but mentally and emotionally?

MK might have come back physically fine, but his mental and emotional state will NEVER be the same again. He and Macaque have both DIED and come back to life- changed forever. Physically they are fine, but mentally and emotionally?

They will BOTH be scarred with that for the rest of their lives.

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Macaque HAS changed and HAS become a better person- and it sucks that his efforts have been downplayed by the fandom, all because he doesn't just say a stupid fucking word?

"sorry?"

HEAVENS HELP ME!

Macaque has done nothing but selflessly risk himself, time and time again, since he worked for the LBD. He has worked to make amends through his actions.

He's made it CLEAR that he cares about Wukong, MK and the others, and he will fight alongside them, and hell if he has to- he would DIE alongside them. He hasn't run from a fight once since he's started fighting alongside them. He's THERE, through thick and thin, and he would push himself beyond the breaking point to protect them.

What better way is there for him to make amends/show his remorse than show he's willing to do whatever it takes to protect the LMK gang?

To Macaque, words are NOT enough. There's nothing he can say that would make things better. So, like a warrior, he takes action instead and shows -instead of tells- the others that he's sorry, and he is willing to stand by them and fight.

It wouldn't hurt for him to say sorry verbally, no.

But what the fuck is he even supposed to say: Hey, sorry for almost fucking killing all of you back then?

It would be so awkward of him to say, and it probably wouldn't even SOUND sincere, even if it actually was. I understand people wanting a verbal apology, but being SORRY doesn't always mean JUST saying sorry.

You can BE and SAY sorry all you damn well want to, but it means FUCK all if you don't show you are with actions and with change, and Macaque has done BOTH in leaps and bounds.

Being sorry means you back it up with actions, and with change.

You do better.

And Macaque HAS been!

Macaque understands full well he fucked up, he's not stupid, and he faces the consequences of that by having to work every day to show the others he's changed.

Macaque will ALWAYS have to live with the guilt of what he's done in the past. Is that not fucking punishment enough? Do some of y'all in the fandom have to fucking bash him at every fucking turn possible? Frankly, I'm done sitting by and watching Macaque be misunderstood, misjudged and hated on, because some of you people are as blind as the fucking brotherhood when they wrongfully blamed Wukong for everything going wrong and not holding themselves accountable for their actions.

Macaque does in fact, hold himself accountable, by doing everything he possibly can to protect and fight alongside the LMK Gang. Macaque is trying, and his story isn't over yet.

The fandom is judging him unfairly (as they do with Wukong as well) and failing to consider the nuance, the subtext, and the complexity of Macaque and his character- and just painting him as this one dimensional, obsessive, abusive, and loathsome character.

MACAQUE'S STORY/CHARACTER ARC HASN'T EVEN CONCLUDED YET, AND YOU'RE ALL STILL SITTING HERE CURSING HIS NAME LIKE HE'S A SCOURGE!

WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS?! Also like, the characters in the show seem to have already forgiven Macaque (or ARE on the verge of)- so like, why can't we all fucking do the same?!

Has Macaque not suffered enough from dying, being revived, used and abused, and then risking himself and his life over and over for the LMK Gang (Showing he's changed from selfishly seeking self-preservation.)

Seriously Macaque went from an I only want to survive mindset, to a mindset of- I will die for Wukong, MK and their family/friends if I must.

Macaque really sells himself short, saying he isn't a Hero. But is that not what heroes do? Do they not forgo themselves and the threat to their life- to save others. Which is what Macaque has been doing ever since the LBD Arc.

Just how many more times must Macaque risk his life to prove he's changed to the fandom? To prove he has regrets/remorse for what he's done? What does Macaque have to do for some of the fandom to stop treating him like the spawn of fucking evil? Does he have to DIE again for you lot to be satisfied?

I cannot take this Macaque slander and hatred anymore. I am sick to death of it. I'm usually not this fucking mad, but this post ENRAGED me.

Op I promise I do not hate you.

I just HATE what you wrote and put out there, because it's simply not at all true or correct, and Macaque already gets enough misplaced hatred.

(if you want to block me, I don't blame you. I just needed to get this off my chest and your post just made it all come to a head.)

I am not defending Macaque simply because I think he's hot/can do no wrong/is perfect uwu baby victim. No, I understand Macaque for his faults. I know he's done wrong, I know he's not a perfect victim.

But he's NOT who you're making him out to be either. He has changed, and has done better.

Can't we just PLEASE acknowledge this?!

Seriously, I'm at my limit, I cannot fucking take it anymore. GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!

If I pissed some of you people in the fandom off, then just fucking block me. I don't care. Just don't engage with me. I don't want to interact with people who can't even see that y'all are wrong about Macaque and he doesn't deserve half the fucking hatred he gets! Just because he isn't what you want him to be, or act how you want him to act, or say what you want him to say- doesn't make him a poorly written character. He's just flawed, messy, complex, and makes mistakes in LMK like everyone else, and I'm sick of people demonizing him.

I am revoking the fandom's right to play with Wukong and Macaque for the time being, until the fandom can learn some media fucking literacy, look beyond the surface level, and learn to be SHOWN THINGS AND PAY ATTENTION and not just be handheld and told things and to think for your god damn selves and actually use your noodles!

MOMOCHI KID OUT!

“You need to do better.”

(This gets vitriolic, and is a full-blown criticism of Macaque’s portrayal in Season Four and Five. If criticism of a character/franchise you like upsets you, I do not recommend reading.)

Wow. I had no faith in his character writing, and I’m STILL disappointed.

And it only took one episode! How impressive!

Macaque, who has put in ZERO on-screen effort to become a better person or make amends to his victims, is criticizing Wukong for being a bad mentor! And does Wukong criticize him back? NOPE!

After getting screamed at and berated, does Wukong defend himself? NOPE!

Ooh, but there was a second long reference in a dual yelling match that mentioned that Macaque was a genuinely bad person who took glee in hurting innocent people! Oh, fucking delightful! Ooh, Wukong even points out in one episode that Macaque goes without consequences!

Pointing out a flaw in your writing does not make it less of a flaw.

Macaque will always be allowed to do whatever he wants to anyone he wants- power theft, attempted murder, insults, deceit, assault-

And the narrative and characters will never hold him accountable or force Macaque to look inwards or become a better person.

Macaque will always fall upwards into redemption without any obstacles or pushback.

There will never be a struggle to goodness with a satisfying conclusion. There will never be a moment where falters in his newfound goodness and questions going back to his old ways. There will never be explicit remorse or regret. He will never have deep introspections on his crimes and atrocities that provide a reason for him to want to change.

The sum of his “arc” will always be “you were a good guy all along”, and that lack of depth is where it will stay.

RIP Seasons 1-3 Macaque. You were fun and interesting and cool and lovable.

But the man they replaced you with was destined to be a boring and brooding “anti-hero” who has no real connection to the actions you selfishly and violently performed with your own two hands-

And you will always be a less interesting character for it.

The execution of the actual arc boils down to a single heroic (but ultimately self-serving) moment and then Macaque is immediately forgiven for all the crimes he’s committed and is a magically better person without any effort and nothing he’s done is ever brought up again.

It severely weakens any character’s arc to cut them off from their past actions. If MK forgot his traumas every season instead of carrying them forward- we’d all agree that doing so was a case of poor writing.

It was the reason that people disliked Mei’s portrayal in Season Four- she immediately moved on from the Samadhi Fire arc and “no longer wielded it” after spending a whole season gathering and learning to use it.

Why can’t we agree that it’s bad for Macaque, too?

You can’t “develop” a character by dropping an entire plotline and writing it off with one line.

You can’t “redeem” a character by pretending that they were a good person right from the start.

Sorry, bud.

I really did like you. I just wish I could like your writing.

——————

And, what is more clear to me now than ever?

People only defended Macaque’s shitty writing because they think he’s hot.

I know this now, because I’ve seen white-hot Li Jing arc hatred from fervent Macaque arc defenders.

So we all agree that an “I didn’t really mean it!” isn’t an excuse to abuse the people around you? That you don’t get to mistreat innocent people just because you’re stressed and upset?

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I wonder why people despise Jing for his dogshit “one nice thing redeems all your bad actions” arc but love Macaque for his??

(Because they think the monkey is hot.)

The funny thing, though?

Li Jing apologizes to at least one of the victims of his actions. He expresses regret and remorse.

Macaque doesn’t even have that.

——————

Anyways here’s a line that I hate because Macaque has in no way developed enough to have the right to deliver it-

AND NO, SUDDENLY HAVING AN AFFINITY FOR PERFORMING KIND OR SACRIFICIAL ACTS IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

HIM MAGICALLY OFFSCREEN BECOMING A GOOD PERSON WHO CARES ABOUT INNOCENT LIFE IS NOT GOOD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT

IF ALL IT TAKES TO “BE BETTER” IS ACTING LIKE A HERO, WUKONG IS LITERALLY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER OF A PERSON THAN HE IS

THIS LINE IS DOGSHIT

“You need to do better.”

Really, Macaque? Maybe you should take your own damn advice- try apologizing to one of the people you tried to hurt and tried to murder in cold blood!

Like when you trapped MK under his staff after stealing his powers and tried to murder him when he was helpless?

Or when you kidnapped MK’s friends and tortured the kid by forcing him to fight them?

Or you led a violent assault against a palace full of innocent people?

Or violently beat his dear friends until they were screaming in pain?

Or assaulted Tang, who posed no threat to you?

Or threatened to murder an innocent girl if you didn’t get your way, then ran away (and encouraged MK to abandon her) first thing when it put her into a life-threatening meltdown of raw power?

(Isn’t it cool how NONE of these people have interesting or varied reactions to him doing this and ALL immediately are cool with him like a gelatinous hivemind.)

(Oooh ONE mildly questioning line from Pigsy but no anger over his adoptive son nearly being killed multiple times over)

(Isn’t it cool that no one has complex or interesting thoughts on this.)

(Isn’t it cool that by robbing them of unique feelings on the matter they robbed Macaque and the Monkie Kids of compelling and interesting interactions that could’ve helped flesh out their personalities and strengthen their characterization.)

(Isn’t it cool that Macaque and the Monkie Kids are actively denied intriguing character dynamics so Macaque’s shitty “redemption arc” can happen faster.)

(Isn’t that cool.)

Why don’t YOU do better, Macaque?

(In a way that is more satisfying than “one kind-hearted speech from a kid that I tried to murder changed my mind and now I am a better person but all my character development happened offscreen and without personal introspection”, at least.)

Also what the fuck do you mean by “do better”?

Be heroic and put your life in danger? He already does that! He’s done it more than you have!

Just tell MK that he’s not alone? YOU COULD DO THAT YOURSELF, MACAQUE!

Help MK with his traumas and fears? MK doesn’t tell anyone about those! He keeps them bottled up, lock and key, and actively refuses attempts to help!

Wukong TRIED to reach out to him, and MK PUSHED HIM AWAY! Was he supposed to tie the fucking kid down and torture the information out of him?

He respected MK’s boundaries by not pushing any further and letting him leave!!

WHY IS THAT A BAD THING??

What the fuck, man

[grudgecollector]

hii queen! i saw that your requests are open, could you write something with daryl and a reader in the earlier seasons who are dating in secret? (they dont want no one to know because daryl is new to relationships and i believe he would be more reserved a little in the beggining), however the group ended up noticing how soft he is to her and how he always keep an eye on her😩 and also i just wanted to say that i read some of yours writtings and they are amazing💕💕

Gimme Shelter | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Tags: Swearing, twd typical violence, kind of slow burn, fluff, lightish angst, half proof-read

Words: 4.4k

A/N: Fank you so much nonny 💖😭 I've been really enjoying writing for Daryl, he was one of my biggest obsessions as a teenager, and that obsession will continue to prevail.

And this is such a cute request, I love secret relationship tropes so much. I decided to do Prison era!Daryl if that's okay, I assume you probably meant for like season 1 or 2, but I felt like it would be cute in the prison.

I know that a slow burn wasn't requested BUT the thoughts just kept coming the more I wrote. Also sorry this took so long to post.

Growing up people would always say you will find the one when you least expect it. Whether it’s in a grocery store, at the park, in a museum. That one person you’re bound to spend the rest of your life with will be there. As if they were waiting for you, and you for them. It was a fairytale dream, one that you lost faith in long ago. 

There were moments you had thought that maybe you finally found that person. Until disappointment would strike time and time again. Your experience with relationships had been less than ideal, never lasting longer than a year. Cheaters, liars, and worst of all abusers. Those types of men had always been the most drawn to you. Making you feel as if you were cursed somehow, unlucky. 

After a while and a slew of pity attempts, you gave up on dating for your own benefit. Deciding it would be best to focus more on yourself. Not allowing yourself to succumb to the societal pressure of getting married by twenty and popping kids out by twenty one. 

That was the dream of a delusional small town teenager, too young to think for themselves let alone plan a future family, and that had been your dream once upon a time. Maybe you read too many stories about young girls finding their prince charming and living happily ever after.

You started to value your alone time. Enjoying the feeling of not having to walk on eggshells in order to keep the other party happy. Things were smooth sailing for about two years. You changed your life around, got a new job, a new car, and a new apartment all within a few months. 

A newfound happiness was settling inside of you, you were beginning to find yourself again. You became more confident in who you were as a person, allowing yourself to actually live your life instead of just simply being alive. 

But life had a twisted sense of humor. 

Things started with frantic breaking news segments on the news. Reporters talking about the horrifying developments coming out of France. In the beginning you had hoped that things wouldn’t escalate past that, hoped that this would be an isolated incident. But things just got worse the more you watched. An unknown virus wreaking havoc across the entirety of Europe, spreading like wildfire across each country. 

After the first case of the virus was reported in Ohio, you started to worry. Things were getting too close for your liking, and with the details they were releasing it wasn’t going to get any better. With each new segment that aired your mother would call, urgently telling you to come back to live with them until this sickness blows over. You knew that it would be your best bet. 

Once the local grocery stores started getting raided, you found yourself being thankful that your family was full of survivalist nuts. Growing up hearing them praise people like Jim Baker, and other televangelist hackjobs like him that weaponized fear mongering for profit. 

Your parents home was stocked full of all the essentials thanks to your aunt Jess. First aid kits, canned food, water to last just a little over a month. It was everything you needed and more. 

“Y’always gotta be prepared, honey.” Your wine-drunk aunt had told you after a week, the both of you lounging on the sofa as you watched the news. “You don’t know how long this crap’s gonna last.” 

It all went by so quickly. The news stations eventually stopped airing not long after the first report hit Georgia, they were urging everyone to evacuate to Atlanta, leaving the streets a mess of honking and dead-stop traffic right outside of your parent’s home. 

And for a short while you had settled into this false hope that you were safe there with them. 

That was until you came back from a short trip to a ransacked Dollar General just down the street. 

The house was oddly quiet when you walked inside. The TV was muted on a flickering static screen, your dad’s recliner was empty, a blanket on the floor. The backdoor that led to the porch was ajar, the sun shining through the crack onto the wood flooring. You remembered that feeling in your stomach as you walked closer, fingers slowly curling around the doorknob. 

When you walked outside it felt as if a bucket of ice water was dumped over your head. The horrifying sight of your mother’s body being gutted by your own father and uncle, fresh blood dripped down the side of the RV next to your aunt’s already mangled corpse. Your hands were trembling fiercely, a nauseating coppery smell filling your nose. 

All you could remember was running. Packing whatever you could get your hands on before taking your mother’s minivan.  

Not long after the death of your family, you were taken in by a small group of five. They were unstable, barely hanging on by a thread, with almost nightly arguments tilting them further over the edge. 

It made things harder for you. The tension starting to make you too nervous to sleep without a knife tucked securely under your pillow. 

The self appointed leader demanded too much, wanting more than half of the rations to himself. He was a cruel hearted individual, mind diluted by the atrocities you were all forced to witness. A dangerous man who was quick tempered, and ruthless to anything or anybody you came across. 

After a month of running with them you made a mistake. You hid a portion of your findings from him. Food that he would have taken the majority of. But you were starving, at the point of hardly caring about your survival if it meant you could eat just a little bit more.

Other members had found out though, outing you quickly. As a punishment he tied you up, stole everything from you. Photo albums, your weapons, your food, bandages, it didn’t matter what it was. After beating you he left you in the supply closet of a convenient store you were temporarily camping out in. 

Part of you half expected them to come back, but you knew better than to think positively now, that could get you killed nowadays. 

The minutes blended into hours into what felt like days. The zip ties around your wrists and ankles dug harshly into your skin, biting into the raw bleeding flesh as you struggled to free yourself. Eventually it got to the point where you started slipping in and out of consciousness, your body exhausted and dehydrated. You were sure you would die there. 

But, much to your surprise, your luck hadn’t run dry just yet. 

In your haze you could hear the sound of once shuffling corpses hit against the door with a heavy thud. Hushed voices barely graced your ears through the door, two men talking to each other. 

Your voice was hoarse as you pathetically attempted to call out. Your throat was dry from the lack of water, forcing your words to come out as a croaking squeak.  

The door had been opened cautiously, the beam of a flashlight assaulting your eyes. You attempted to focus on the man crouching down above you, his blurred features obscured by the baseball hat he wore. 

“Rick!” The man called over his shoulder, another figure coming into view. He was wearing what seemed to be a police officer’s uniform. Whether it was stolen or actually his, you didn’t care, you just wanted out of this damn closet. 

Both men were quick to cut your binds and hauled you to your feet. The quick motion was all it took for you to finally pass out. A thick blanket of exhaustion pressed into you, forcing your eyes to flutter closed and your body to go completely limp. Unable to cling onto consciousness any longer

In those last moments you almost thought that they would just leave you there. Not wanting to bother helping a now passed out stranger, and you wouldn’t have blamed them if they did abandon you. 

Instead when you woke up you were laying on a couch, an older man with short white hair standing over you. 

At first you had almost believed you dreamed it all, the outbreak, the group. That you were in some sort of comatose state and the world was not overrun by flesh eating monsters. But the stinging pain deep within your wrists proved otherwise, the gashes covered by white gauze and medical tape. 

The white haired man, Hershel, ran you through your current state. Malnourishment, dehydration, feverish temperatures. It was evidently clear that you had been through the wringer, and if Glenn and Rick had not found you when they did, you would have died within the day. In fact he had said it was a miracle that Hershel himself could have saved you. 

You figured you had always been stubborn, though, you never gave up easily. 

Hershel had been kind enough to allow you to stay in his house until you got better. Providing you with enough water and food to get you back on your feet. 

The family allowed you to use their shower. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you understood why they were so insistent. A thick layer of grime and blood coated your skin, your hair was matted, your clothes ripped beyond repair. 

You couldn’t help but cry, realizing just how quickly you lost yourself out there. Your humanity has faded so much in such a short amount of time, leaving you a hollow shell of your former self. You looked like a stranger to yourself.

Over the next week Rick’s group urged you to stay. They knew you had nowhere else to go, no family to run back to. 

You were hesitant, though. You didn’t want to continue to be a burden, you were a stranger infiltrating an already close knit group. The closeness they had made you feel even more lonely than you did in your previous group, because at least when it came to them, you didn’t crave that companionship. 

Gone were the days of blind trust, knowing that everything always came with a price these days. So your knife stayed tucked beneath your pillow, fingers clutching onto the handle as you kept an eye on the zipped up entrance of the tent. 

On many sleepless nights, which were frequent, you would sit yourself in front of the dwindling fire outside of your tent. Mind wandering to everything that’s happened to you in the past three months, the things you’ve done to stay alive, the permanent scars you would carry with you for life. 

You stewed in your bitterness. Chewing ruthlessly on the skin around your fingernails. 

Your tent was further away from the rest of the group’s, tucked away in your own area. You found yourself watching the rest of them at first. Thoughts of running away while everyone slept crossed your mind more times than you could count. 

Until one night you heard a twig snap behind you, your knife quickly unsheathed and pointing towards what you thought to be a threat, 

“Geez. You’re almost as bad as Daryl.” One of the older men from Rick’s group, Dale, chuckled as he walked closer to your secluded camp, his hands up in surrender. “But I can go if you want.” He smiled softly. 

“Sorry… Bad habit.” You said quietly, setting your knife back down next to your thigh. 

He shook his head, taking a seat in front of the fire, “No need to be sorry. I can’t blame you for still being a little paranoid.” 

Dale quickly became a source of comfort for you, sporting an almost fatherly personality when talking to you. He was kind, and realistic which was exactly what you needed after everything you’ve been through. Over the course of a few nightly visits he was able to get you to open up a little, telling him about your former group, he was sympathetic and understanding. 

“The world has truly gone to hell.” He grimaced, taking his bucket hat off of his head. “But, we have good people here. Believe it or not.” His smile was reassuring. 

After a few days you started to come around more. Helping the women with laundry, listening to the stories they told about their lives before, anecdotes to keep themselves sane. 

It wasn’t hard to understand why they were so close. The tragedy of their former camp just outside of Atlanta, the C.D.C, Lori’s son getting shot, the people they’ve lost along the way. 

Slowly you felt more like yourself again.

Every so often they would mention that same name Dale did, Daryl. The only member of the group you had yet to meet personally. 

You had seen him walking around the camp, or tucked away in his own tent, further away from the group much like yours was. He was gruff looking, intimidating to the eye, and his occasional temper didn’t help much. But with how insistent he was on finding Carol’s missing daughter, you could tell there was warmth beneath his rigid exterior. 

The first time you talked to him was less than ideal. You were attempting to set up a snare trap in the woods, wanting to try and contribute a little bit more. The frustration quickly turned to embarrassment when he snuck up on you. Your feet got caught in your own trap and caused you to trip and fall. 

“Looks like y’caught somethin’.” Daryl attempted to joke, walking past you and deeper into the woods with his crossbow pointed towards the trees. 

You cut yourself free of the poorly made snare and ran to catch up with him. Choosing your words carefully. 

“Daryl, right?” All you got was a grumble in response, “Listen I know you don’t know me or anythin’... But could you teach me how to hunt?” 

“Teach yourself. I ain’t got time for babysittin’.” His response stung a little, harsher than you had hoped it would be. 

You figured you should have expected that, though, the conversation him and Shane had this morning was heated. An argument almost leading to a full on fight. The tension was growing higher and higher as the days dragged on with no signs of Sophia. 

Then the group found out about what was inside the barn.

One day when Rick was out helping Hershel, Shane took it upon himself to break the chains on the barn door. Walker after walker spilled out, being shot down ruthlessly by some members of Rick’s group, while the Greene family cried out for them to stop. Their worst nightmare coming true, as well as Carol’s. 

A little girl limped out, skin grey and beginning to rot. Her hair was matted with leaves, eyes a milky grey color, and a rasping snarl emitting from her. There was a large gash on her shoulder, a bite. It was devastating to see a child fall victim to such a death. But even more so for Carol, coming to realize that each day they restlessly searched, she had already been dead.. 

The safety that the farm provided didn’t last long after that. 

Shane was quickly losing his grip, Dale was killed by a lone walker, and eventually the fields were overrun by walkers. A massive hoard stumbling onto the property, drawn in by the frequent gunfire. 

You had lost quite a few on that night, good people that had helped you come out of your shell, people that didn’t deserve what they got. In all honesty you didn’t think you would have made it out either if it wasn’t for Andrea and Daryl. 

After the fall of the farm, you were all lost. Hershel and his family had lost their home, and the entire group was left to search. 

But you had to bury your sadness for the time being, winter was quickly approaching. The leaves were changing into a crisp orange color, and the wind had a bite to it in the mornings, leaving you shivering as you huddled closer to the fire. Daryl had been kind enough to let you borrow his poncho some nights, insisting you probably needed it more than him. 

Daryl seemed to warm up to you after a while too. He would subtly make sure you ate by leaving a half eaten can of vegetables next to you, or would occasionally sharpen your knife for you after doing his own. It was a kind gesture, letting you know that he was starting to trust you. 

Eventually it got to the point where your group finally ran out of canned food. There were no stores around, and everyone was too cold or tired to go anywhere. So Daryl decided to take you out to the woods, finally going out of his way to teach you how to hunt. 

“Y’know what you’re trackin’?” He asked one day, slowly walking beside you, following a small winding trail in the woods. 

You were quiet for a second, thinking as you analyzed the tracks next to your feet, “Could be a deer, whatever it is, it’s got hooves.” 

“Obviously.” He huffed, resisting the urge to smile when you glared at him. 

“Shut the hell up, man.” A small sigh came from you, “Could be a hog.” You crouched down and moved the leaves out of the way to get a better look, “The prints are close together, if it were a deer they’d be further apart, right?” 

Daryl just shrugged, “You tell me.” 

That’s how your hunts would usually go, Daryl providing frustrating nonanswers as you attempted to close in on your prey. He wasn’t going to babysit you, as he had originally said when you first asked, you had to figure it out yourself. You knew that was the only way you’d be able to learn, even if it was mildly annoying. 

The winter finally started to melt into spring, temperatures rising and falling occasionally until settling into an in between. And soon enough your restless searching came to an end, the high chain link fences surrounding a prison with walkers meandering the expansive field calling your names. A soon to be shelter for your group and many others. 

The fight against Woodbury had been a painful ordeal, with Maggie and Glenn getting taken hostage, and Daryl leaving with his brother. The group was briefly left in shambles, hanging on by a thread as Rick slowly faded away, losing his way after Lori’s untimely death and the birth of her daughter. 

When Daryl left it broke your heart a little. The two of you had bonded over the course of the harsh winter, often seeking each other out as a heat source. Whispering stories of your families filling the silence as the biting wind wrapped itself around you. But you could never blame him for leaving, knowing you would do the same thing if you could. 

The first attack from the Governor was when Daryl finally returned, his mouthy brother in tow. They had rescued Rick on the outskirts of the fence, luckily finding him just in time before he was overpowered. 

It made you happy to see your friend again, a hand squeezing his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. It had been a lot less awkward than you expected, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing softly, reassuring you that he was okay. 

“Well, ain’t that just cute.” Merle had teased, pinching his little brother on the cheek. 

But the tragedies were never ending, your group seemed to constantly be one step away from death’s doorstep. 

The Governor decided to make his way back to the prison, armed gunmen following behind him. 

They wanted to execute every last one of you no matter what it took. Your group had laid out traps, pretending to have left as requested, lulling them in with a false hope that you were gone. Until the shrill sound of the prison sirens started, smoke grenades being thrown down at their feet in the darkened hallways. 

The armed militia of men, mothers, and teenagers the Governor recruited had run away in fear, knowing that their fates would be sealed if they stayed any longer. 

As the weeks continued after the attack, things started to look up. That once forgotten positivity slowly makes its way back into your heart, along with a smile as you allow yourself to get to know the former residence of Woodbury. Your community was slowly forming, a home being made out of the prison. 

It was easy to become comfortable. 

And as your fondness grew for Daryl, you remembered what your mother used to tell you. 

“You will find the one when you least expect it.” 

Who knew that the world had to end in order for you to find him. With every soft touch, lingering whisper, and a quick stolen kiss in the shadows of your cell, it grew increasingly more obvious that your mother may have been right. 

Daryl was the only person you felt safe enough to be vulnerable around. His gentleness towards you breaking down the walls around your heart, settling himself deep within it. And you gladly let him. You both decided to keep your relationship a secret. Enjoying the thrill of sneaking around, while also avoiding any teasing remarks that would come from your group. 

You knew that this was Daryl’s first serious relationship, so you wanted to allow him the grace of warming up to the idea. You wanted him to become more comfortable with himself, taking his time with you, soothing any anxious wandering thought he may have. 

But you knew that the group would notice eventually. Hell, they already were. The small teasing remarks being thrown your way would make Daryl stiffen. He would pick at the strings on his denim jacket as he huffed and grumbled something in response. 

“You want me to slip her a note or somethin’?” Carol teased him, nudging her elbow into his side, “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” She laughed quietly when he rolled his eyes, “Come on Daryl-” 

She was cut off by someone running up to him, Glenn’s frantic eyes meeting Daryl and Carol’s before quickly sputtering out your name, “I don’t know what happened but-” 

The poor boy could barely get the words out before Daryl ran off towards the cell block. 

You were laying in your cell, blood covering your shirt as your side bled profusely. Hershel was quick to try and stop the bleeding, urging everyone to give him room to work. 

“If you want her to live, get out, now!” 

The blood drained from Daryl’s face as he looked at you. Bruises were beginning to bloom on your face and arms, your nose was bleeding and there was a slash on your cheek. Your boyfriend directed his anger towards one of the new members you had taken on a run, pinning him roughly against the concrete wall with his forearm. 

“The hell happened out there?! Huh?!” Daryl shouted in the scared man’s face, shrinking in on himself as Rick and Maggie tried to pull Daryl off. “Talk!” 

“We-” The man gulped, “We got attacked by a small group…” There were tears in his eyes as he tried to explain, his swollen lip trembling. He didn’t look much better than you did honestly, his eye was almost swollen shut, and there was blood coating his hairline, “She said- said she knew them, some group she was with. I thought they were gonna k-kill us.” He swallowed harshly, “They shot her…”

Daryl swore he could see red. His shoulders heaving as he started to pace, fingers running through his hair as he tried to process what the man had said. His face was hot, body pulsing with anger as he glanced back into your cell to see you lying there motionless. 

He stalked back up towards the man, his gaze hard and threatening as he spoke in a gruff voice, “If she dies, her blood is on your hands.” He pressed his finger hard into the man’s chest, pushing him harshly back into the concrete wall before stalking towards the exit of the prison. 

It took the entire council to talk Daryl out of hunting this group down himself. Carol telling him it was a suicide mission, and he would die if he left like this. Going into a situation blinded by rage was never good for anyone, especially now, with you lying unconscious in your cell. 

Luckily for you the bullet went straight through, and all they had to do was wait for you to wake up. 

Daryl didn’t dare leave your side, a rag gently dabbing across your forehead as he whispered softly to you. Unspoken words that he had wished he had told you sooner, words that only you were allowed to hear him say, something he had never dared utter to another person. Not even his own family. 

“I love you.” 

The time seemed to drag on slowly as he waited, his watchful not leaving you for more than a few seconds. His gentle fingers traced patterns on your skin, ignoring the occasional staring that would come from someone passing by your cell. He couldn’t bring himself to care about the secrecy, not now. 

“That fuckin’ tickles.” He suddenly heard you rasp, your eyes fluttering open and glancing down at his fingers on your forearm. 

Relief washed over Daryl like cool rain on a hot summer's day. His shoulders sagged and he couldn’t help but lean his head down to rest on your arm, a long sigh being released from his lungs. 

“Daryl…” You whispered, making him look at you, “It was my old group.” 

The look on your face was similar to the one you sported when they first found you, terrified, lost, confused. You didn’t know what to do with yourself knowing that not only were they still alive, but a lot closer than you would have liked. 

“I know.” He replied, his hand holding onto yours, “You don’t have t’worry about that right now.” 

Even though you were able to find happiness in the apocalypse, tragedy never ceased to sneak up from behind every corner. And you guessed that it had become easy to forget that life had a cruel sense of humor. 

It always would.

[ikeupied]

"Maybe people leave you because you're impossible to deal with."

My breath hitched, my heart started pounding, and my hands began to shake. No matter how hard I tried to respond, the words wouldn't leave my mouth.

"Have you ever thought about that?"

I stared at him in shock, unable to believe what I was hearing. I never in a million years thought I would hear those words come out of his mouth.

"What...?" I whispered, but my voice cracked before I could finish. How could he say this to me after everything we’d been through? His words echoed in my mind, too strong, too painful.

"It's the truth," he said, as if talking about something as simple as the weather. "You've clung to people, to me, for so long, and now... I don't know. Maybe it’s time to stop expecting people to never get tired of you."

My chest tightened. I could feel the air in the room grow heavy, like my soul was suffocating. Did he really think that?

"You think I'm... that I'm just... unbearable?" The words tumbled out, shaky and uncertain. No, this couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.

He didn’t look at me, diverting his gaze to the floor, like he didn’t want to see the damage he had already caused. But the words still lingered between us. They felt like daggers, stabbing me again and again.

"Maybe if you weren’t so insecure all the time, people would want to be around you."

Silence wrapped around me like a cold blanket, and I couldn’t help but think of all the times I’d felt invisible, insecure, wondering if maybe he was right. Maybe everything I did was wrong, maybe my whole life had been somehow wrong, and I didn’t even know it.

7:30 AM, the sound of my alarm jolted me awake. I immediately noticed my face was wet; I had been sweating. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes with my hands. It had been a dream, just that.

I inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to calm my breath. My hands were shaking, everything felt overwhelming. I squeezed my eyes shut, and tears that I didn’t even realize I was holding back, fell.

"It was just a dream, it’s nothing," I told myself, trying to calm down, and slowly, the crying stopped.

After taking a long shower and staring at myself in the mirror for a while, I got dressed and left the apartment.

8:25 AM. When I saw the time, I realized I was running late for practice. "Shit," I sighed, quickening my pace.

"You’re late," he said, looking at me with his usual smirk. I gave him an empty look and simply walked past him without saying anything.

"Seems like you're in a good mood," he commented. I sighed, holding back the urge to launch myself at him and punch him in the face.

"Can we just start with the choreography? The sooner we get this over with, the better," I said. He gave me a typical smirk.

"Sure, whatever you say."

10:00 AM. I walked out of the dance studio, and Taesan was waiting for me outside.

"How did it go?" he asked as soon as I stepped out, and I could hear genuine concern in his voice. Taesan always worried too much about me, and that made me feel like a burden to him.

"It was... fine," I shrugged, and we started walking toward the university. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, we talked just enough and made good progress with the choreography."

"Good... I’m glad," he said, ruffling my hair gently, which made me laugh faintly. "I hope you’re not too tired. This afternoon we’ve got the group rehearsal to review the choreography for the first round."

I sighed at what he said. Honestly, the only thing I wanted to do was stay in bed all day, staring at the ceiling, reevaluating everything I’d said and done since I was three years old. But I couldn’t, so I just nodded and kept walking.

It was going to be a very long day.

just a dream (wc ; 2798)

SYNOPSIS: Y/n and Riki were inseparable. The kind of friendship everyone envied, the kind that felt unbreakable. But somewhere along the way, something shattered. Now, every word they exchange is a fight, every glance a silent war. Neither of them wants to admit how much it hurts. Neither of them wants to be the first to let go of the anger. But how long can you hate someone who once meant everything to you? Because the line between love and hate has never been thinner.

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note: I actually cried writing and reading this chapter, but it's one of my favourites.

taglist @kizumis @yangjungwonnie @doririsstuff @annybah @yurizzzs @zaycie @iheartshopping @luvjichang @starbyeol1512 @jaerisdiction @soobinbunnie5 @tasnemluvs @right-person-wrong-time @yuaaa-somehow @nishikio @ezekiel-bublz @hyunjinslongasslegs @iboughtnjz @jvngw0nlvr @blvengene

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[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | three

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, teasing, college au, smau/irl

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 2.1k

authors note: I just want to thank everyone for all the love this has been getting, I love that you love them just as much as I do. Also thanks to @rafesbabygirlx for helping me decide what to do with this part.

02 | 03 | 04

Wednesday

He was shocked, to say the least. But he would be lying if he didn’t find it appealing. Also, even a bit cute that you had chosen to ask him for this out of all your friends. 

“Wait, let me see if I got it right…” he paused. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night?” He asked, still shocked and trying to see if you were joking. But you never joked, at least not with him.

“Yes,” he knew you weren’t joking now so he decided to take the teasing route. 

“And what do I get from this?” he asked with a smirk on his face 

“A free dinner?” 

“Oh come on Y/N I know you can do better than that” he teased making you sigh 

“I don’t know… what do you want?” you start to feel actual panic setting in. How were you supposed to convince him? 

“I can think of a few things” he smirked, he was just making things difficult for fun, you didn’t find it funny. 

“Why do you have to be like this?” 

“It’s fun to see you annoyed” he smiled 

“You are the worst”

“Hate me all you want but we both know it’s all fake or you wouldn’t be here” he had to suppress the urge to boop your nose knowing it was going to piss you off. 

“I never said I hated you, you are just extremely annoying” 

“I like to say I’m charming”

“Full of yourself” 

“Who else am I supposed to be full of?” he lifted an eyebrow, and you sighed defeated.

“Rafe, please… I will owe you one no questions asked” 

“Oh well now that you say that” he smirked again taking a few steps to get closer to you. “I might take you up on that princess” he changed his tone to a more flirty one 

“You disgust me” 

“Ah don’t be like that, I’m your boyfriend now” he wiggled his eyebrows. His smirk was still plastered on his face. 

You felt a sense of relief at those words, he had agreed to help you. 

“Thank you” you gave him a half smile 

“Sure but I do have a few questions though”

“About?” 

“Why did you have to look for a pretend boyfriend?” 

“Long story” 

“Will I ever know?” 

“Maybe but not today.” you paused for a second “I’ll send you my location and let you know what I need you to do that day” 

“Fine by me” 

“Thank you again, really” 

“Thank me after I have charmed your parents” 

“Fine whatever, bye”

“Bye princess” 

“Can you not?” 

“You are my girlfriend now I have to be nice and sweet talk you” he smirked again, he was enjoying this a bit too much. 

“Fake one, and for a night”

“Let me have my moment” You rolled your eyes and walked away.

He saw you walk away with a big smile on his face. He shook his head and chuckled to himself before going back to his practice.

Thursday

Today - Friday

You had been anxious since the moment you woke up. Kelce hadn’t shown up to statistics that day because he had gone out with Nicki according to him to end things finally. So you had been left alone to deal with Rafe on your own. Anyone would expect him to be solely focused on basketball since he was captain, but no, he truly cared for classes and his grades. 

Just today he seemed a bit more chatty and you couldn’t wonder if it was because today was the day. Yes, THE day. 

“So tell me, why don’t you want people to know?” 

“Because I don’t. I’m not gonna tell people I had to look for a fake boyfriend because my parents pushed me to my limit” 

“Ah so there is a reason, and here I thought you didn’t want to share” 

“I said maybe so here I am, plus it seemed fair to tell you since you agreed to help me” 

“Aw thanks” he put a hand over his chest pretending to feel touched. “So tell me more” 

“My mom has been a bit worried I haven’t dated a guy in more than a year and lately she has been more pushy and all that so I lied saying I had been seeing this guy for the past two months to keep her quiet”

“And I’m guessing it didn’t work as you expected…” 

“Yeah, they asked for his name and all”

“Okay wait…”  he smirked “So you said my name?” You rolled your eyes and sighed. There was no point in denying it. 

“Yes but only because you were texting the group chat nonstop and then to my chat so I panicked and said your name” he felt the honesty in your words but he was going to take the chance and tease you. 

“No need to make excuses I feel honored that you thought of me” 

“You love to have something to tease me with” 

“Oh yes I do” 

You kept the small talk for a bit more until it was time to work. You did all your classwork together and finished first. 

“Okay so one more question, how did we meet? How did we start dating? I’m assuming they will ask questions” You turned to look at him; a sense of relief washed over you. He was going to help you. 

“Yeah… let’s just say Kelce introduced us, which is the truth, and…” he cut you off

“He invited you to a game, he introduced us and we hit it off” 

“Sound believable so it’s okay” 

“Now hobbies, I know you like reading but like things we do together” 

“Uh… watching movies, I guess I go to your games” 

“That’s kind of a given, let’s say you are my lucky charm” he teases and you chuckle. You had to admit it, he was being more positive than what you had expected. Maybe the dinner wouldn’t be that horrible.

After the unexpected call, you continued with your stress-baking. It always helped you to take your mind off things and for the hour and a half hour that it took you to bake, you had accomplished not thinking about anything else. You noticed the time and decided to start getting ready. 

You went to your room to get ready. The first thing you did was go through your closet to find something nice to wear, you settled on a floral dress you liked and called it a day. With your dress on you went to do your hair and after that, you sat down to put makeup on. As soon as you started doing your makeup and humming to the songs that were playing you got lost in the process and found comfort in something you did almost daily. 

By the time you were done, it was almost time and the nerves settled in for good this time. As soon as the doorbell rang you felt a pit in your stomach. You took a deep breath and walked down to open the door.

When you got downstairs, your mom was about to open the door. You tried to hurry, but it was too late, and she was already opening it.  

“Hello! You must be Rafe.”  

“I am, nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to her.  

“Mom, I was going to get the door.” You finally entered his field of vision. He felt time stop for a second; you looked beautiful. You always looked put together, but today was different—your hair, the dress, the makeup; it was all different.  

“Well, look at you, princess! You look beautiful,” he said as he walked in, kissing the top of your head. You gave him a soft smile. Meanwhile, your mom looked at the scene in front of her, her heart leaping at what she was seeing.  

You felt extremely awkward, but after taking another deep breath, you took Rafe’s hand and guided him to your living room. For Rafe, the house felt cozy, and it made sense that you were how you were if you had grown up in a place like this.  

When you walked into the living room, you were met by your dad reading something on his phone.  

“Dad, this is Rafe… Rafe, this is my dad.” Your dad lifted his gaze and smiled as he stood up.  

“Ah! You are the guy she hasn’t stopped talking about all week.” You hadn’t done it on purpose, but they had been asking a lot of questions about him, and you answered. Rafe just chuckled and squeezed your hand gently, as if marking that comment to tease you later.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet the parents of this pretty girl,” your dad smiled at the comment.  

“Come on, sit down,” your mom motioned to the couch.  

“So, Y/N tells me you play basketball.”  

“Yes, I have been captain since last year. It has been a great experience so far.”

With that, the conversation flowed. You still felt like you were in flight or fight mode, but seeing how Rafe was handling the situation was better than you had expected. You had moved to the dining room to have dinner, and the conversation had continued. Your parents had asked every question they could imagine. Now Rafe was telling the story of how you two had met.  

“We have friends in common, and for a game, she was sitting with them in the stands, and I couldn’t stop looking at her during the whole game." He paused. "I had seen her in a class before and barely exchanged words, but I knew I had to talk to her. So at the end of the game, I asked one of our friends to introduce us, and he did.”  

It was all half-truths; you two had met in a class, and that same week, you had gone to one of his games not knowing he was playing. You all had hung out that day after the game, and from that point forward, you two had, in a way, become friends—more acquaintances since you two never hung out just the two of you or talked outside of college and homework.  

"That’s so sweet! Who is the friend?"  

"Kelce," you both answered simultaneously.  

"We’ll thank him next time we see him for bringing you into her life." At that moment, you panicked; no way that was happening.  

"I’m going to make sure to tell him," Rafe said, reassuring your mom. You turned to look at him.  

"You are a good one, Rafe," your mom said.  

"Well..." you paused. "I’m going to bring the dessert."  

"Do you need help?" Rafe asked, and you nodded. He excused himself and followed you to the kitchen. Once the two of you were out of earshot, he spoke.  

"Your parents are great," he said as you pulled a berry cheesecake out of the fridge. "Oh wow, that looks amazing"  

"They are, and thanks. I take pride in my baking," you smiled, setting the cheesecake on the counter to take out some new plates.  

"You bake?"  

"I do; it’s one of my hobbies."  

"Hmm, you are full of surprises."  

"What can I say?" you replied with a smile, exiting the kitchen.  

He grabbed the cheesecake and brought it to the table as you placed the plates next to it. As soon as it was served and everyone was seated, the conversation continued as if nothing had happened. Everything that you hadn’t discussed how to answer came out naturally. During dinner, both you and he saw each other in a different light. You had learned so much about him thanks to your parents' questions, and he had learned so much about you from the way you interacted with your parents and from what your mom had told him about you.  

He understood why it had been a big deal for your parents when you had told them about dating someone. You didn’t know, but your mom had shared a bit of the backstory, and it had made him feel some kind of way. He could see how much your mom cared for you, and seeing you so heartbroken last time had worried her. She didn’t want you to close yourself off before, so seeing him there had assured her you were going to be okay. He was never going to bring this up with you, even though he was curious about what had happened.  

When everyone noticed the time, it was 9:25 PM. Rafe helped clear the table and began saying his goodbyes. You sighed silently; it was finally over, and it had gone great.  

"Rafe, before you go, why don’t you come over on Sunday?" your dad asked right as he was about to leave. Your face dropped; this was supposed to be just one night.

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[maxdibert]

Wow, and here I was thinking his reasons were:

1. That his father was an abusive man who hit him, and that every other Muggle he had ever known had treated him like crap (like Petunia making classist comments, for example).

2. That on his very first day on the train, the rich, white, aristocratic kid started picking on him.

3. That the rich, white, aristocratic kid and another rich, white, aristocratic kid made his life a living hell for seven years—one of them almost killing him, and the other publicly humiliating him by stripping him naked in front of a whole crowd.

4. That the so-called “bad guys” in Slytherin actually accepted him and gave him a safe space, a place where he wasn’t constantly facing violence and abuse, while the supposed “heroes” made it their mission to make his life miserable every time they saw him in the hallway.

5. That, of course, he wasn’t going to follow the “good guys” who had spent years tormenting him—because what fucking sense would it make for him to join the cause of his abusers instead of siding with the people who had actually given him a place where he felt safe? Do you guys use your neurons, or are they still in their Amazon packaging?

The idea that Eileen was a pureblood is fanon—pure speculation that is never mentioned anywhere. What is mentioned is that Severus came from an extremely poor background, to the point where he didn’t even have money to buy clothes, and that the canonically rich, upper-class kids with a higher blood status than his spent years bullying and humiliating him. Do you want them to be the racialized ones? The white, aristocratic kids who tormented a boy who was economically and socially far below them? Would that be better to you?

Since when is Severus Snape an incel? Your lifelong best friend cutting you off, and you never going after her, never harassing her, and only mentioning her name again when you know she’s about to die—that makes you an incel? Have you ever met a real incel in your entire fucking life? What the fuck are you even talking about?

Severus Snape is a character whose entire life was shaped by abuse, oppression, a class dynamic that worked against him, and guilt—guilt for making a wrong decision that was directly caused by the horrible life he had lived, and then spending twenty years of his life trying to atone for that mistake in order to free himself from that guilt. If you have no fucking clue what his character is actually about and you want to paint him as a villain while talking about one of the three most important adult characters in the series, who played an essential and fundamental role in Voldemort’s downfall and the salvation of the wizarding world—well, that’s your problem.

But stop using racism as an excuse to hate on a character who, in fact, has way more in common with the discrimination and social exclusion people face due to race than any other character in the series.

Yeah, it makes total sense that they chose Snape, of all characters, for that change. And the fact that you’re surprised or horrified about it has nothing to do with any real concern about racism—in reality, deep down, you know Snape suffered a lot of unnecessary shit. But since nobody gives a fuck about classism or body shaming, you could keep bashing the character all you wanted.

Now, that discrimination—based on background and appearance—is going to be a lot more obvious, and suddenly you’re not going to be able to hide the bullshit that’s been going on in your head.

ooooooh my God the whole reason Snape buys into the death eaters rhetoric when he's young is because he hates that his rich full-blooded mother married his poor abusive muggle father. he thinks he's biologically 'ruined' because it effects his social standing in both the muggle and magical world. with this casting I just. I KNOW if they get into snape's backstory they're gonna cast a white woman as his mother and a black man as his father. there's no way the showrunners don't know what they're doing by casting a black man as the incel nazi child abusing teacher who has a rushed as shit redemption arc in the eleventh hour. Snape is not a character you can race blind cast without it effecting his story. this is like actually the worst thing they could have possibly done lol!!

[cheol-e-kat]

𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐, 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕. 𝒄.𝒔𝒄, 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

[ master list ] [ part 1 ]

Pairing: choi seungcheol / f!reader

summary: seungcheol shouldn’t have a crush on another alpha, but he can’t help the way he feels about y/n, but he also wonders if maybe it doesn't matter

word count: 2.3 k

genre: a/b/o au (omegaverse), coffee shop au, college au, alpha!seungcheol

warnings: explicit language, drinking, mentioned bitching, fingering, exhibitionism

y/n woke up slowly, her head hurting a bit from drinking the night before. she knew before she opened her eyes that she wasn’t in her apartment. 

she also knew that she wasn’t alone. she bit her lip softly, remembering the night before. she didn’t really need to go through what she remembered - she knew his scent much better than she should. she knew exactly what alpha she had been drunk enough to talk to and go home with. 

but they hadn’t had sex, which was maybe concerning. everything she knew about seungcheol largely revolved around the fact that he loved omega pussy and wasn’t shy about it. 

but, she reminded herself once again, she wasn’t an omega. so why would an alpha who so clearly loved omegas ever pay attention to her, she wondered, even as she was lying in bed with him. his scent swirling gently in the air. 

she had noticed it the night before, that his apartment only smelled like him. there wasn’t a trace of anyone else, which was difficult for almost anyone to maintain. she hadn’t smelled any of his friends’ scents that she knew from the coffee shop, and definitely not the scents of omegas she had seen him with. 

it was literally just his scent. and now a tiny bit of hers. she had been slightly shocked that he asked her if she nested. it was always uncomfortable to be slightly different, especially when anyone noticed. but he hadn’t been asking in the tone that people usually asked either - he asked as though he wanted her to nest exactly where she was…in his bed. 

she sighed and felt him press closer, “you okay?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. 

she nodded, even though she felt her heart start to race. she never went home with alphas. she never invited them to her apartment either. she’d also never met an alpha who so clearly wanted to fuck and then backed out because he wanted to be close to her even more. 

which, in all fairness, seungcheol seemed completely happy with being close. he wanted to be holding her or pressed against her, even when they had first talked in the club, he was so quick to pull her close. not to mention, he’d seemed beyond annoyed to have to leave her the night before even to answer the door. 

she felt him shift - she felt his soft lips press gently to her neck. 

“what’s wrong?” he asked, voice still low and soft. 

she felt his lips shift a bit lower - she couldn’t help moving to the side, giving him the room he clearly wanted. she felt the gentle, teasing kisses and bites. 

when he was satisfied, he leaned up so he could see her. she was used to seeing him look tired, it was part of why she ever went so far as to ask him how his day was - she always felt bad for him when he looked exhausted. 

seeing him look tired and have him be so close though, was - she wasn’t sure, exactly, but her hands seemed to have a mind of their own. she watched them reach up and smooth his unruly black hair. she wanted to lull him back to sleep while she thought…or maybe she could find something to clean anxiously while he slept for at least three days. 

he leaned down, his lips pressing softly to hers. she loved how he felt, how warm  and plush his lips were. his kisses were gentle and unhurried. she felt his fingers trace through her hair - he was clearly in no rush whatsoever. 

he broke the kiss though, his forehead pressing gently to hers, “please tell me if i did something?” he whined softly. 

he hadn’t done anything. she smoothed his hair, and shook her head, “you didn’t,” she whispered.

he hummed to himself, “then why do you feel nervous?” he asked as his fingers traced along the neckline of the tshirt she was wearing, making the lightest contact with her skin. 

she flushed, wondering why he put such a fine point on things. 

“i’m not,” she lied. 

he groaned, “even if you weren’t shifting around and wiggling and making little sounds, you’re right next to me, and everything about you feels anxious,” he was watching her now. his gaze was soft and curious. 

“even your scent is different,” he whispered, his fingertips traced along her jaw. she wished he didn’t sound quiet so concerned. 

she wanted to shrug him off - she wanted to say he was just hungover and there was nothing to sense, least of all from her. 

but she knew what he meant, he meant he could feel her - as in the way alphas felt their mates and their mates could feel them, and that however it started between them, however intense it was, it would only increase if they bonded fully. 

she never thought she would meet an alpha who could feel what she was feeling, much less sound almost worried. 

he was still watching her, waiting patiently for some explanation. she fumbled for the right words. and wondered why it had been so much easier when she had had several drinks. 

she wanted to ask him why on earth he would want to have a bond with her out of all his options, but she had known for months - not ‘why’ so much, but that he did for reasons that she couldn’t fathom. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆  

she had realized the moment she swapped back from drawing little hearts around his name to just a smiley face - he had looked like she slapped him when he grabbed his coffee. worse he looked like he wanted an answer regarding the change to his cup sleeve doodles, or at least to lodge a complaint with the offending party, aka her. 

she had the tiniest urge to hide in the employee bathroom or under the counter. she didn’t care which - she never thought a change to her doodles could maybe ruin his day a little bit.

she had wondered if he would say something about it. she had imagined him cornering her and asking ‘why?’ in a very stern voice - but he hadn’t. instead, he looked like he was buffering for almost an hour, but he left like normal. 

and then the next time she saw him, he was sheepish and reserved - all because of the missing little hearts. she had felt bad almost immediately - she knew she had bothered him, but not so much that his personality changed. 

she had drawn lots of hearts that day to make up for the missing ones. and when he got his coffee - it was like she had aligned the planets just for him. he looked happy and almost smug when he grabbed his drink. 

once upon a time, she normally doodled things for almost everyone’s drink, but that was before she met him, and she slowly noticed that her doodles were more and more unconsciously reserved for seungcheol’s coffee cup and no one else’s. 

it helped that he was a regular and came in virtually every day - so all of her doodling could be seungcheol focused. sometimes there were happy hearts and sometimes they were surrounded by clouds - but they were just for him. 

she had only gone slightly red in the face when her co-worker asked her why “lover boy” got all of her drawings. 

she had shrugged, “he’s cute,” she said simply. 

“yeah, who doesn’t love alphas like that?” she had gone on, “you know the type that always let omegas help them through their ruts but are no where to be found when an omega needs help, but that’s just me,” she had finished, her tone harsh. 

y/n didn’t really have any thoughts, since she had never considered asking a alpha to help her through her heats. in her mind, it was way too personal of a thing. the sheer idea of seungcheol and his cute dimples seeing her at her most vulnerable and horniest state was far and away the last condition she would want him to see her in. 

besides, all she did was draw cute things that he seemed to like. it wasn’t like she was chasing him down or something. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

but here she was, in seungcheol’s room, in his bed, no less. she felt his weight pressing down against her, keeping her still. she savored the feeling. 

he was still playing with her hair. his gaze had shifted. she was used to seeing his profile. she loved the shape of his lips. 

she had no idea how long they had been this way, but she was fairly certain he wasn’t going to let her get out of this so easily. he was heavier than her for starters. 

she considered distracting him. but she knew the truth was easier. 

she sighed, “why do,” she paused, “why do even pay attention to me?” she asked timidly. 

he glanced at her, his large eyes, only getting larger. he looked puzzled by the question. he was stuck in his buffering mode. 

“because, i just do - the first time i met you, i’ve never felt so sure, so certain about anyone ever,” his cheeks brightened to a gentle shade of pink. 

“there’s other people,”— she started. 

he shook his head emphatically, “no, there’s not - there’s just you,” he said with complete certainty, still playing with her hair. 

he finally glanced at her, his gaze was soft, “i’m serious, y/n - there’s no one else - check my phone - ask my friends, whatever you want,” his voice was more serious. 

she shook her head, “i don’t mean,” she sighed, “i’m trying to ask why do you seem so set on me? i’m not brave, i barely manage to flirt with you even,” she could feel her face brightening as she spoke. 

but before she could continue, she felt him kiss her. it was a much longer kiss than she expected. she thought it would be quick, just to shush her. but no, it was mellow and sweet, and his taste lingered on her tongue when they parted. 

he stared down at her, his embarrassment gone, “because i can feel you from across the room - just like i know you’re anxious now, i know when you’re grumpy in the morning, and i just want to make you feel better, reassure you,” he whispered, kissing her again, “do anything for you,” his lips brushed her skin. 

she hugged him close, feeling the immensity of what he had said. it was romantic and very, very old-world to think about finding a soulmate based on scents and innate connections. it was the kind of thing that reminded her of her great-great grandmother sitting and telling her her soulmate fortune by reading the tea leaves left in her cup one afternoon. 

she traced her fingers along his back, loving how smooth and firm his muscles were - she knew he enjoyed the way it felt. she didn’t need to ask him. just like she didn’t need to ask him about drinks or what food he was craving. 

she was used to ignoring the sigma part of herself. but she took pleasure in feeling him relax against her. she tried to remember what her soulmate fortune had been, but she could only remember that she thought it was all a bit fake. she nuzzled closer to him and fell asleep.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

she woke up for the second time, pressed against him - the soft sounds of rain against his window were comforting. she nuzzled closer to him, looking for more warmth. and she felt his kisses. she hummed happily, kissing him back. it was the easiest thing in the world. 

she loved the way they shifted positions so easily - her under him, and his arms around her, keeping her close, guiding her gently where he wanted her. even when she felt his fingers slide just under the hem of her tshirt, she didn’t mind the feeling of his fingertips skimming along the tender skin of her stomach. she pulled his hair softly as his hands moved further up her body - his fingers teasing her breasts and nipples, as they kissed.

she whimpered softly when he pulled one hand away, until she felt it traveling down her stomach and over her hip. and when she felt his hand arrive fully between her thighs, teasing her through her underwear, she whined gently, rolling her hips against him, seeking out friction. 

he barely pulled away from her, “feels good?”

she nodded, pulling him back down to her. his hand slid farther from her center though, instead, tracing along her inner thigh, teasing her. and when she felt his fingers return to her cunt, she realized how wet and slick she already was. it was the feeling of his fingers teasing her opening through the fabric that made her suddenly blurt out the thing she rarely shared.

“i’m—” she flushed, “i’ve never been with anyone,” she finished, biting her lip, wondering how he would react. 

he didn’t seem upset. 

in fact, he sat back, staring at her for a moment, “you mean, no one has ever,”— he broke off. she shook her head.

“even like what you’ve done so far - you’re the first,” she blushed brightly. 

he was still staring, “you go through your heats alone?” he asked, sounding surprised.

she shrugged, “there are things that help, like meds and stuff,” she blushed, almost wishing she hadn’t told him.

“go through your next one with me?” he whispered, his hands tracing along her sides. 

she was quiet for a moment, not knowing how to respond - she’d never been with anyone, and he was asking for that. but she found herself nodding, knowing she didn’t want to spend another heat alone and miserable. she wanted to spend it getting fucked by seungcheol. 

he kissed her again, “we can practice until then,” he murmured against her throat, biting her roughly. she moaned quietly, wondering just how many times he would have marked her by then. 

a/n: soooo yes, they're still negotiating this obvs - hope you like it - tell me if you do and if you don't uhhh plz let me live in peace

♡ kat

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