#my short attention span is just natural my parents & every grown up that knew me attested to this for me

[thinkingnot]

thinking about how the average age of getting electronics exposure has been getting lower and lower and how it probably contributed to tiktok blowing up as a platform

(a correlation)

[letsperaltiago]

i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.  

[strawberrysoup]

Yes, Sheriff || Chapter 1

Sheriff Carol Danvers takes her job of protecting the citizens of her small town very seriously — there are just some that she cares about more than others. A lot more, in fact, and she will take care of her sweet baby girl whether she likes it or not. 

relationship: Carol Danvers/Reader rating: Explicit chapters: 1/? length: 5,413 warnings: Dark Carol Danvers, coercion, manipulation, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat  additional warnings: open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter. 

This is my entry for searchforanotherway’s Onyx Night Challenge! My plan is for this story to span several chapters, so it certainly won’t be finished by the deadline of January 11th but I wanted to try and write a fic longer than just a oneshot. That being said this chapter can stand alone and doesn’t have to be read in conjunction with other chapters for plot coherency or effect. Oh, also please keep in mind that I’ve never written a reader insert before, so go easy on me if anything seems off! 

Being the sheriff of a very small town and the rather empty surrounding county came with some very particular challenges Carol hadn’t necessarily expected when she signed on. Burgess was mostly concentrated in a small area where the main town was built, about three or four streets worth of businesses. Beyond that were what they jokingly referred to within the department as the Suburbs, mostly cute little farmhouses with plenty of space in between. Of course, the distance between plots hadn’t done them any good when the fire broke out about 6 years ago, before Carol signed on with the department, and had taken out 12 houses. 36 people had died, the fire was so hot and spread so fast through the 100 year old homes the volunteer fire department had barely been able to keep it from jumping the road. 

Y/N’s parents, her only family, had been 2 of the casualties. She would’ve been too, had she not been spending the night at a friends house on the other side of the Suburbs. From what Carol had been able to gather, the young woman had just graduated from getting her Masters degree in library sciences and had intended to only move back home for a little while before moving to the city permanently. The death of her parents had destroyed many of her plans, especially when she had to deal with so much fallout from the insurance companies and lawyers. Luckily her family had owned the land her house sat on, the money from the home insurance had come through and y/n inherited everything. She’d rebuilt the house, smaller but just as old fashioned in design, and taken a job as the town’s librarian, enabling the previous one to retire (the woman had been older, didn’t actually have the education necessary to be a librarian and was happy to step aside so sweet little y/n could have the position). 

Most of the town seemed to have a soft spot for y/n. When Carol first started, the entire population had been leery of her. She’d expected it, luckily, and wasn’t shocked by the reserved nature of the people she served. She was relatively shocked when they started accepting her presence, their topics of conversation ranging from now the town fair is very important around here so you need to handle it correctly—those townies will run amok if you’re not careful to do you think you could drive past the library this evening while y/n walks to her car? I get so worried when she’s out late like that with no one around. It was consistent that the townsfolk would find a way to wriggle y/n into conversation but they didn’t seem to know it was a collective issue; every person who asked her devote some extra attention to the young woman did so covertly, as if to prevent anyone from knowing. It was endearing and cute and Carol honestly didn’t have much to do most of the time so she didn’t mind the little side tasks. 

The small town and county police department was made up of 90% locals who were happy to respond to most calls. They mostly dealt with domestics and property violations, occasionally some sort of larceny or robbery or breaking and entering calls. Wilson and Barnes were trained paramedics and dealt with the medical calls, luckily, although when she rolled into town Carol had forced all of her deputies to get certified in multiple emergency life saving techniques. The nearest ambulance dispatch was an hour away and she was baffled the former Sheriff hadn’t enforced even basic CPR certifications. Rogers, one of her two deputies, handled most of the domestics with Carol as his back up if necessary (it was almost never necessary, even if Rogers didn’t have that disarming Good Ol’ Boy Charm he had biceps as wide as y/n’s thighs and could handle most things on his own). Rhodes, her second deputy, was good for dealing with bored teenagers who liked to play at crime, breaking and entering and minor burglary, along with trespassing. Property violations and agricultural issues were big in a town like Burgess too, but Odinson (another transplant like herself) had grown up in an even tinier town devoted to farming and could handle such problems in his sleep. Pietro, the youngest and greenest in the department, handled what she considered the beat; traffic and parking violations, jaywalking that caused endangerment, vandalism, etc. Most of what came down on Carol’s shoulders were the big issues—the small amount of drug situations they dealt with, any prostitution or assaults. The other officers said they liked her to be open for those sorts of calls, which left her driving around on patrol at least 50% of the time with nothing to do. 

It gave her more time to talk to locals than she expected, more time to subtly watch y/n than she could’ve ever anticipated. The more she watched her, the bigger Carol’s problem became; y/n was lovely and sweet and beautiful and Carol was finding that she had a crush on the young woman. Well, it might’ve started as a crush. Carol found herself very quickly falling down a rabbit hole of obsession and honestly wasn’t all that mad about it—the longer she watched, the more she realized how perfect y/n was, in general and for her. 

Carol had embraced her bisexuality at a young age, had dated men and women over the years but never really found anyone to her liking. She had an incredibly dominant personality, both in general and in the bedroom and finding someone willing to unconditionally follow direction was hard. Moving to a small town had seemed like a sexual death sentence in all honesty, until she came across y/n. She was so small and demure, averted her eyes and blushed constantly under Carol’s strong gaze and said yes Sheriff when prompted with the most precious drawl. Carol could look down her nose at the woman, could imagine the way she’d feel slotted right against her chest with her head tucked perfectly under her chin, knew that y/n was just short enough that she’d have to stand on her tiptoes when Carol put her thigh right between those pretty legs and made her work for her orgasm, those tiptoes slipping for purchase while her pussy ground hard into her thigh.

It had gotten harder and harder to ignore, the all too carnal desires she had for the young woman and she was relieved when she decided there was no reason to ignore them. There was no reason not to take y/n as her own— she’d take good care of her, in every way, and love her so deeply that she’d never dream of anything else, never want anyone else. Carol was meticulous and careful and manipulative, even if she pretended not to be. It wouldn’t be hard to get her right where she wanted her. 

The spark plugs in the glove box of her cruiser were a testament to that. It had been easily to quickly take them after the sun had gone down, Carol knew for a fact there weren’t security cameras anywhere nearby and there was no one around to see (usually the library was rather busy right up until close, but most of the population was at the high school football game a town over). Several of her officers were there too, Carol correctly assuming that it would be a slow night for calls. Peter Parker had offered to take the dispatch shift and run the receptionist desk so that the usual evening dispatcher, Wanda could attend the game too. 

Carol sat straighter in her seat as y/n emerged from the library, taking the time to carefully lock the doors—first the door that led straight to the her help desk and then the double doors that opened into the main library, the entrances separated by a wall between the doors and a small hallway that allowed y/n a little bit of privacy in her “office” unless someone needed extra assistance. The keys went into her purse, exchanged for her car keys with a generous pause that made Carol cringe slightly; she wished y/n would have her keys ready and out when she left the building, the long hesitation while she stood alone in the dark was ample opportunity for a mugging or abduction. She’d impress the importance of being prepared and quick once she had an opportunity that wouldn’t betray the fact she’d been watching her from afar. 

There was another uncomfortably long pause as she unlocked her car and climbed in, leaving the door open for an extended time while she settled and Carol was sure y/n didn’t lock the doors even once it was closed. It would evidently be a rather long conversation regarding safety. Carol smiled when the car didn’t start after several minutes and turned up her radio. Most of the townsfolk would call the non emergency line at the station when they had car troubles and Carol was nearly positive y/n would do the same. It took about five minutes give or take for her radio to crackle to life, Peter��s voice coming through. 

“Sheriff, Rhodey, are either of you near the library? Y/n just called in from the parking lot, she just finished closing up the building and can’t get her car to start." 

"I’m just across the street, actually— Coach Steveson asked me to make sure y/n got home alright since he figured nobody would be around because of the game,” it was true, Carol regularly got requests from different citizens asking her or the other officers to check in on people and y/n was one of the top requests, obviously, because everyone knew she was alone, “tell her to wait in her car, I’ll be over in just a second." 

"Will do, Sheriff!” There was a click and crackle on the radio and Carol smiled; Peter made an excellent receptionist but his dispatch skills could use some work and professionalism, not that she really minded the candor.

She cranked her car on and reached into the glovebox to retrieve the spark plugs she’d grabbed earlier, glancing at herself carefully in the rearview mirror. Her hair was pulled back to show off her undercut, the front in a twist away from her face with some strands having managed to escape over the course of the day. Y/n liked��the undercut, evidenced by how flustered the poor thing got the first day she saw it (actually that was the day Carol realized y/n wasn’t straight, the poor thing had been so caught off guard she’d stuttered and blushed and had 100% rubbed her pretty thighs together under her skirt).

She quickly popped across the street, spark plugs tucked discreetly into her pants pocket and pulled up beside y/n’s car. The door opened immediately, much to Carol’s displeasure; she was sure Peter relayed the message that y/n was to stay in her car. The order was likely too ambiguous and Carol would be more careful in the future. 

“I’m so sorry to bother you Sheriff,” y/n started immediately as Carol exited her cruiser, “I hate to call but my car won’t start, I could pop the hood but I have no idea what I’m looking for." 

She looked embarrassed, hands twisting together at her waist and Carol had to carefully arrange her features to prevent her excitement from showing, her demure little baby was so cute, "that’s alright y/n, I always want you to call if you need help. How about you get back in and pop the hood for me, I’ll take a look." 

Y/n did so quickly before joining Carol at the front of the car, much to her amusement, "you go ahead and sit down, sweetheart, I might want you to try cranking the engine, okay? I’ll tell you when." 

The pet name was easy to pass under y/n’s radar, the endearments a regular part of the small town life. Even Carol got called sweetheart and honey on a regular basis, but it didn’t stop y/n from blushing darkly all the way down to her chest. Carol carefully kept her eyes from trailing down the neckline of y/n’s sensible tank top (it was hot as hell outside and paired with a long, flowy skirt Carol was sure anyone would think it professional enough for a small town librarian) despite the fact she desperately wanted to know if the redness spread all the way to her tits. The young woman did as directed, quickly hustling around to sit in the driver’s seat with the door open. 

It was easy to quickly reattach the spark plugs, just so that when the mechanic showed up in the morning they wouldn’t be suspiciously missing. She didn’t bother disconnecting anything else, instead staying ducked under the hood long enough to justify a good look around before standing straight and closing it. 

"There must be something going on below the surface honey, everything up here looks fine,” she stated, walking around to meet y/n as she stood up, “why don’t I give you a ride and I’ll call Tony out in the morning to take a look." 

There was a torn look on y/n’s face at the suggestion and Carol watched the gears turn in her head; leaving her car overnight in the lot wasn’t the problem, no one would tow it or anything, the problem would come in the morning when she needed to get back to the library to open. The blonde had already considered all of the options though and smiled sweetly when y/n hesitated. 

"I’m just about to get off for the night anyway, we could swing by your place and grab some of your clothes and you can stay the night at mine, I can drop you over here on my way in,” she offered, enjoying the flustered way that y/n shifted on her feet, “I guess I could just drive around to come pick you up at your place before I start my shift…" 

The sheer thought of inconveniencing the town Sheriff made y/n look like she might cry and she quickly shook her head, "no, no I can stay over tonight. I’d hate to make you go out of your way—no, thank you so much for the offer, it’s so kind thank you." 

Y/n wouldn’t look up from her feet but Carol didn’t push, couldn’t push quite yet. Instead she encouraged y/n to grab her purse and held the door of the passenger seat open while the smaller woman slipped inside. She’d call Tony in the morning, say she couldn’t find anything wrong with the car but would you please take a look for y/n’s peace of mind. The mechanic would surely be happy to help and would make up some excuse for why the car hadn’t started so y/n wouldn’t get embarrassed over not being able to properly start her car. 

The ride to y/n’s house only took about five minutes and she was quick to collect an overnight bag before running back out to the cruiser. Carol kept a very careful eye on her as she continued on to her own home, a good fifteen minutes further into the suburbs. She could tell y/n was confused, if Carol’s house was further than hers why couldn’t she stay at her own home overnight? It would’ve been on the Sheriff’s way into town, just a quick stop. But y/n was a good girl and never questioned those she considered superiors, instead just sitting in vague discomfort as they got farther and farther from her home. 

Carol lived on what was considered the very edge of town, as a new addition to the population it was hard to get a place closer, but she appreciated the the isolation. Y/n waited until Carol opened her car door to do the same, shuffling nervously along behind her up the steps. The house wasn’t as nice as the one y/n had built but it was quaint and old and smelled like all of the old houses that had survived the fire. 

"Here we go,” Carol unlocked the door and waived y/n inside with a pleasant smile, “I left dinner in a slow cooker this morning, give me just a minute to change and I’ll get it all together." 

"Oh, Sheriff, I couldn't—" 

"Of course you can sweetheart, I’d be insulted if you didn’t,” she joked with a smile, “you can put your stuff where ever, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back." 

Carol could tell y/n had been expecting her to show her to a bedroom and pressed her lips together; y/n would be sleeping in her bed by the end of the night but the poor thing didn’t know that and wouldn’t know what to do if Carol instructed her to put her things in there. She changed quickly, into a pair of tight joggers and a slightly cropped workout top that showed her abs—she wanted to see what shade of red y/n’s skin would turn at the sight. Plus, she had aspirations of y/n riding the hard planes of her abdomen until she came and a short shirt would make that easier if she could make it happen, no matter how far fetched the hope. 

Y/n’s eyes immediately dropped to the exposed skin when Carol returned and the blonde wanted to coo her face turned so red, it was so cute, her baby was so precious. She carefully pretended not to notice the staring, crossing into the kitchen quickly and checking on the crock pot of spicy pulled pork. 

"I could put this over a salad for you or put it on a roll, which do you prefer?” She turned back just in time to see y/n’s eyes snap up from where they’d been locked on her ass and was unable to hide the that came over her features; teasing her at this point would be a mistake, but it was so hard not to, “come over here and I’ll make you a plate honey." 

Y/n shuffled over, red faced and very obviously embarrassed to have been caught checking out the ass of the local sheriff, "just-just a sandwich, please." 

Carol made sure to pull from the bottom of the pot, where the meat would be the spiciest for y/n’s sandwich before handing her the plate and grabbing a bag of chips to go with it from the pantry. Y/n dutifully went to go sit at the table, waiting patiently while Carol fixed herself both a sandwich and a salad. She didn’t bother to ask if y/n drank, pouring them both a large glass of the strongest red wine she currently had in the house (bought specifically for this occasion) and setting one down in front of y/n. 

"This is my favourite wine,” she stated, looking to subtly manipulate y/n’s coming actions, “it’s a bit expensive but I haven’t had such lovely company over in a minute, might as well share it." 

The wine was already poured, Carol’s favourite, and it was expensive; there was no way y/n would reject it now. The food was spicy, she’d likely drink the entire glass, and with her smaller stature would certainly not be entirely herself afterwards. And poor y/n played right into her hands, following the script Carol had written in her head to a T. She got flirtier as the meal progressed, as her wine disappeared, responding to Carol’s carefully probing words beautifully. The blonde was two seconds from stealing her off her chair to sit her right on her lap when y/n gave a little sigh. 

"I think I drank a little more than I meant to,” the words were punctuated by a little hiccup and Carol cooed in response, immediately standing when y/n pressed to her feet. 

She didn’t give the shorter woman time to move too far, carefully latching an arm around her waist and drawing her in close, her other hand catching y/n’s cheek gently to direct her gaze, “that’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of you." 

Y/n took just a second longer to process than it usually would’ve taken before her cheeks darkened, her lips parting in surprise, "O-oh, I—" 

Carol hushed her gently, her lips finding purchase against y/n’s jaw and running the length of her cheek to her ear, "you’re so shy for me baby girl, it’s so precious. I’ve always wondered if that blush goes all the way to your tits." 

The tank top came off easily, y/n squeaking in shock but not fast enough to prevent her bra from following. Carol’s hands grasped her hips and she walked the smaller woman backwards until she could lift her to sit on the counter, her lips pressed hungrily against y/n’s own. Her skirt lifted easily until the fabric bunched at her waist and Carol pressed herself firmly between y/n’s thighs, happy for the extra bit of height. She wished she’d put on a strap on after changing, she could’ve slipped right into y/n’s pussy so easily at this angle.

"Wait-wait, Carol—Sh-Sheriff!" 

"You’ll feel so good after this,” Carol’s lips trailed down her cheek, to her neck and down to her pretty tits, lapping at her nipple gently, “just let me…" 

Her lips engulfed one of y/n’s nipples and she gave a deep, languid suck while the young woman on the counter writhed. One hand kept purchase on y/n’s back, a careful but firm hold to prevent her from squirming away while the other trailed down to her panty covered pussy. She was wet, a spot beginning to form on the fabric and Carol grinned. Her teeth scraped over y/n’s nipple, drawing a sharp cry from her and quickly slipped her fingers up into her wet cunt while she was distracted. Although it didn’t take long for her baby to notice the intrusion, her legs shifting and her thighs attempting to close even as Carol stood between them.

"You’re so wet, baby girl,” she cooed darkly, watching y/n’s face coloured with humiliation, “you want this so bad, don’t you? You want me to make you cum? Huh? On my fingers or my tongue?" 

"N-no, wait,” her head spun as she reached down, grabbing Carol’s wrist in a weak attempt to keep her fingers from pumping into her cunt, “Carol, I don't—" 

"When we’re fucking you call me Sheriff or Sir, do you understand?” Her thumb gave a rough pass over y/n’s clit and she jumped, a short whine escaping her even as her eyes started to shine with tears, “tell me you understand, y/n." 

"Y-yes sir,” she hiccups slightly but was rewarded with Carol’s lips returning to her nipple, tongue laving over her sensitive bud forcefully enough that y/n tried to wiggle away. 

Carol immediately withdrew her hand from y/n’s pussy and slapped her cunt hard through the fabric of her panties, earning a yelp and the blonde was forced to hold her hip tightly in place with the other hand, “you don’t try to get away from me baby, not ever." 

It was easy to lift y/n over her shoulder, her baby screeching in shock as she was forced to hang upside down. The walk to her bedroom was quick and she tossed y/n onto the bed without hesitation, absently deciding to add more weight to her workouts— she liked manhandling her baby girl and some extra training might help it go smoother, especially if y/n decided to be naughty and needed a bit of extra restraining. 

Y/n was still dizzy from the ride, too shocked to attempt to slip off the bed and simply not coordinated enough to try anything clever. Carol caught the edge of her toy box with her toe and dragged it over to the edge of the bed for easy access, slipping onto the mattress and covering y/n’s small body with hers. She quickly returned her mouth to the perky tits beneath her, lips latching onto the under stimulated nipple and sucking hard. Y/n whined him response, chest rising with each hard tug in attempts to lessen the pressure.

"I’m glad your pussy’s so wet,” Carol murmured after releasing the abused nipple with a pop, hand reaching over the edge of the bed to dig one of her smaller strap ons out of the box, “I don’t know if I have any lube." 

She whipped her top off quickly after finding the one she wanted, followed by her pants. Forgoing underwear had been convenient and she quickly worked to attach the strap on around her waist. The moment y/n realized what was happening, her face scrunched and the tears came back with a vengeance. The no trying to run away rule was obviously immediately forgotten as she scrambled for purchase on the bed, her coordination nonexistent after the strong wine. Carol reached out and easily flipped her onto her stomach, subduing her flailing limbs with ease.

"What did I say about trying to get away from me baby?” Carol yanked the skirt down over her legs, catching the waistband of her panties in the same tug and shucked both articles across the room, “now I’ve gotta punish you before I fuck you, naughty girl." 

"N-No, no! Wha—" 

Carol slapped her hand down on y/n’s ass with enough force to make her shriek, the sound lighting the blonde’s pussy up like nobody’s business. She could feel her wetness dripping, the press of the strap on over her clit delicious. When she finished up the spanking, leaving her pretty ass red and raw and painful, Carol flipped y/n onto her back once more. The yelp she let out made the blonde smile, knowing that even the soft fabric of her sheets would feel like sandpaper at the moment. 

"Awe, don’t cry baby, shhh,” Carol stretched out above her, letting the cock of her strap on drag against y/n’s wet little cunt in the process and wiped the tears away from her cheeks, “shhh, be a good girl now. You’re gonna take my cock so well, won’t you baby girl?" 

"P-please, I don't—" 

"You don’t what, baby girl? You don’t wanna take my piece?” Carol’s hand immediately found her wet pussy, scooping a good amount of arousal onto her fingers before bringing it back up to smear the moisture across y/n’s lips and cheeks, “this greedy little cunt disagrees. It wants my cock bad baby and who am I to deny this pretty pussy anything." 

The head of the strapon nudged between y/n’s pussy lips, drawing a loud whine. Her knees drew up as Carol pressed deeper and deeper and the blonde was quick to spread her thighs wide, the muscles jumping as she pressed those pretty thighs flat to the mattress. When Carol finally bottomed out, y/n was whining and squirming, hands pressed against her taut abs. The movement chafed her raw ass against the sheets and the blonde knew the pain must’ve been a sharp burn.

"Is it a lot baby?” The blonde panted slightly, clit well stimulated by the strap on, “is that a lot for your little cunny? This is one of the small ones baby girl, you better get used to the stretch." 

Carol withdrew and thrust in deeply before y/n could speak, repeating the motion roughly several times before she fell into rhythm pounding away at her pussy. Y/n wailed, her ass dragging brutally over the sheets with each sharp thrust and igniting a truly awful burn. The squelch of her pussy was obscene though and Carol shivered at the sound—she was so wet it was dripping out of her pussy, sliding down her ass crack and soaking into the bedsheets. Her mind might not’ve been entirely on board but her cunt was 100% involved, ready, and excited for the pounding even as her burning ass was rubbed raw by the bedding and the constant, torturous movement. 

"God your pussys ruining my sheets baby,” she slapped at y/n’s clit several times in rapid succession, drawing a loud wail from her lips, “your cunts so excited to be fucked, so fucking wet its gushing. You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for me, aren’t you? Cum on my cock baby girl, cum on it!" 

Y/n wailed in response, her little body pulling tight for several seconds before she came so hard her eyes rolled back and she shook. Carol fucked her through it with force, only stopping when the desperation for her own orgasm set in. She pulled her cock from y/n’s gaping pussy and removed the strap, dropping it over the side of the bed as she moved up her baby girl’s body until her cunt was positioned over that little gasping mouth. 

"Mouth open, baby girl,” she ordered, hands digging into her hair to angle her chin up, “you’re gonna eat my pussy until I cum." 

A small noise escaped y/n, some cute little grunting whine as Carol flattened her cunt over her mouth and thrust her hips forward. The drag was lovely, y/n’s open mouth warm and wet against her sopping pussy lips. 

"Use your tongue,” she ordered with a small gasp, feeling her orgasm getting closer as her hand closed over the back of y/n’s head to keep her mouth pressed firmly against against her cunt, hips rolling swiftly back and forth as she chased her own end.

She moaned loudly when little kitten licks teased her lower lips, concentrating the movement of her hips to press her clit against y/n’s tongue. The drag was wonderful, a loud cry escaped her lips as she started to cum and she doubled her efforts, fucking y/n’s face brutally into the mattress until it abated. She let her weight rest suffocatingly over y/n’s mouth and nose for several seconds, lifting up just before she could start to panic. 

“God that was even better than I could’ve imagined, you’re so good for me baby girl,” Carol slipped down her prone form, kissing her soundly but gently and licking the cum and arousal from her shell shocked face, “fuck, I knew you’d be perfect." 

Y/n looked up at the blonde with big, wet eyes even as Carol continued to whisper praises against her lips. A hand had returned to her sopping pussy, Carol collecting her cum with taunting fingers before swiping the residual from her own messy cunt as well, bringing it up to y/n’s mouth. When her baby girl’s lips didn’t open she grabbed her jaw, squeezing with increasing pressure until her mouth opened and she was able to shovel the mix of their cum into her mouth. 

"Swallow it down baby girl,” Carol cooed, hand sealing over y/n’s nose and mouth tightly until her throat visibly worked several times to swallow the load, “so good, so precious sweet girl." 

The blonde’s eyes glanced to the bedside table and she sighed lightly, ignoring the huge wet spot on the bed beneath y/n and lying to her left on the mattress. She easily pulled the smaller woman on top of her, y/n’s little waist cushioned between her sticky thighs and her head rested perfectly between Carol’s breasts. She could see the bright red, chafed skin from her position and smiled darkly—y/n would feel it for days, everytime she sat would be a reminder. 

"It’s gotten late baby, we should go to sleep. We’ll wake up early and go to breakfast at the diner before I drop you off at work,” her hands worked gently up and down y/n’s back with soft, sleepy touches, brushing the top of her ass with careful fingers. 

“I—”

Carol hushed her before she could get a word in, “go to sleep baby, the alcohol in your system must be making you drowsy by now, especially after that kind of fucking. We’ll talk in the morning." 

content warnings: alcohol consumption, nonconsenual vaginal fingering, strap on insertion and fucking, ass and pussy spanking, cunnilingus and face riding (is that what that’s called? i’m honestly not sure how to tag that), suffocation, and cum eating. hmu if i’ve missed anything. 

[treasure7boys]

Sunny Summer || Park Jihoon

♡♡♡♡

Type: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 4.7K (Lol, I got really carried away)

Warning: Cursing, mature-ish themes (lol, not really) [Not Edited]

Description: You've matured since the last time Jihoon saw you ... and he's not the only one who's noticed

♡♡♡♡

Honestly, the thought of spending every summer in Jeju with your family wasn't exactly ideal. You wanted to spend the summer with your friends, not on an island where you knew almost no one. Still, you had one saving grace: Park Jihoon. The Park family was close friends with your own, so they had been staying at the same beach house with you since you were seven years old. Jihoon was the same age as you, so you naturally became close friends.

Your families both lived in Seoul, but you never really hung out with Jihoon unless it was some holiday or celebration and his family was over. As you senior year came to an end, you realized you hadn't seen Jihoon at all since that summer. It wasn't surprising, though, since you were both busy with studying for entrance exams and whatnot.

“He's going to be so surprised with how beautiful you've become,” your mother smiled as your plane landed in Jeju, stroking your hair lovingly.

You blushed, feeling embarrassed by the compliment. “It's not like I've changed that much,” you told her.

That wasn't necessarily true, however, you were just being humble. In all honesty, puberty did finally hit and it was kind to you. The boyish figure you once had finally had some shape to it. Your chest was still on the flatter side, but you couldn't have it all. Your braces were also removed and your now straight smile was beautiful. It was the little things that changed that made you look even prettier.

Your heart pounded like a drum as you neared the familiar beach house, which was basically your second home at that point. At first, you hadn't anticipated anything, but, after your mother's comment, you were wondering if this summer would be different.

“You're here!” Mrs. Park shouted as she rushed down the sandy steps of the beach house and to your mother, tightly hugging her. “Jihoon! Hurry to help with bags!”

Your own father hugged Mrs. Park and then Mr. Park, who was chuckling at how excited his wife was. “She's been waiting at the window for you guys,” he informed you all, making you smile fondly.

Mrs. Park turned to you. “Look how much you've grown in the past year! You're even more gorgeous, Y/N!”

Again, you blushed as you thanked her but politely said you looked the same. You watched as Jihoon appeared and they disappeared, always leaving the two of you to unload the rental car. “What happened to your face?” Jihoon asked as he opened the trunk.

You scowled, already knowing this summer would be like every other one. “Gee, thanks for that confidence boost,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He smiled and shook his head. “That's not what I meant. You just look different.” He inspected you and you felt like a bug under a microscope. “You got your braces off, huh?”

Nodding, you flashed him a smile. “You did, too. You look good.” The two of you embraced tightly before turning to the bags. “Are Junkyu and Yoonbin here yet?”

He nodded. “Yoonbin got here two days ago and Junkyu last night,” he informed you. “There's a party on the beach thrown by some college kids and Yoonbin managed to get us an invite.”

“Sounds cool,” you said, but you weren't sure how you felt. You had never been to a college party or any party for that matter. You liked to stay in bed where it was warm and safe, eating snacks and watching movies. Still, maybe you might like the party scene.

After unloading everything and putting the bags in your respective rooms, you put your swimsuit on, some shorts and a tank top, and then joined Jihoon downstairs to meet Junkyu and Yoonbin for a swim.

“What happened to you?” Junkyu asked, his eyebrows furrowing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You scoffed in disbelief, “Did I get so ugly over the span of one year?”

Yoonbin smiled. “I think he's talking about that giant bruise on your knee,” he commented.

“No, I'm talking about how my little brother, Y/N, is now my sister,” Junkyu said. “When did you get a figure?”

You shoved him aside, going to set your towel down. “Shut up,” you huffed.

“Wait, who called you ugly?” Yoonbin asked.

Junkyu nodded. “Yeah! I'll fight him for you!”

You glanced at Jihoon. “I didn't call you ugly!” he exclaimed. “I just couldn't figure out what about you changed.”

Letting out a laugh, you jumped up to your feet and threw an arm around him. “I know, I know! I just like to give you a hard time,” you teased. “Now, let's get in the water. It's so hot out.”

As you removed your shirt and shorts, you watched the boys rush into the water. Every year before, you had worn a one-piece swimsuit. That year, however, you wore your first bikini. With your new figure, your friend had somehow convinced you to show it off. You felt slightly self-conscious, but you knew you just had to fake it until you make it.

After some swimming and goofing off, you finally decided you wanted to dry off and enjoy the warm sun. The boys agreed but already planned on playing some volleyball with a beach ball in a little bit.

“Yeah, I fell down the stairs because I was so excited after finding out I got accepted into one of my top three universities,” you told Yoonbin, explaining why your knee was bruised. “I'm just glad I didn't break it.”

He laughed, “I'm surprised you didn't.”

“I'll have the whole house to myself for two nights, so we can have our own mini party,” Junkyu said to Jihoon. You didn't hear the whole conversation because you and Yoonbin had just tuned in.

You looked at Jihoon. “You're gonna leave me alone for two nights with just our parents?” you asked him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Junkyu cut him off. “You can come, too. I don't think your parents would mind. What would even happen?”

Yoonbin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we're all like siblings,” he added.

“Good point. I'll ask, but I'm sure they'll be fine with it,” you said. Your eyes wandered towards three guys passing by. Your jaw just about dropped. “That guy is so hot.”

They looked to see who you were drooling over. “Yugyeom-hyung?” Jihoon questioned. “The guy we've known since we were kids?”

You shook your head, “No, the one in the middle.”

“His name is Eunwoo, this summer's heartthrob,” Junkyu told you. “All the girls are talking about him and he just got here.”

Eunwoo looked over, seeing you staring. He sent you a sweet smile before turning away. “Well, you've certainly got his attention,” Yoonbin smirked, standing up to go play volleyball.

“I'm in love,” you said. “What I wouldn't give to have even just two minutes in heaven with him.”

You felt something hit your head. It didn't hurt, but sometimes you liked to be dramatic. “Ouch! What the heck?!”

Jihoon looked at you as he picked up the beach ball he had just hit you with. “Stop drooling over him and come play,” he said.

Scowling, you stood up and joined Junkyu on the other side of the net.

♡♡♡♡

“Hurry up, Y/N! Before I'm old!” Jihoon called to you somewhat jokingly, waiting on the porch of the beach house.

You hurriedly slipped your bracelet onto your wrist before jogging down the stairs. “Well, don't you look gorgeous,” your mother smiled, lovingly smoothing down your hair.

You were wearing a skirt and top set. They were both red with white flowers on them. The top was a crop top with sleeves that wrapped around your upper arm, showing off both your stomach and shoulders. You had bought it on a whim hoping it would look good and maybe you could try and find a style that you really liked. Hopefully your mother was right and you looked gorgeous.

“Watch after Jihoon, yeah? Now that you guys can drink, he thinks he's a pro,” Mrs. Park snickered.

Smiling, you nodded. “Of course,” you told her. “I'm not planning on drinking much or at all in order to keep an eye on the three of them.”

“That's my girl,” your mother smiled. You quickly put your sandals on and then joined Jihoon outside.

He looked at you and stopped swaying, inspecting you. It felt like he stared at you forever until he finally said, “You look nice, now let's go before Junkyu gets impatient.”

You nodded, joining his side as you walked down the beach and to the house. Honestly, you weren't sure whose house or party it was, but you didn't really care.

“That's a cute outfit,” a girl told you. You were pretty sure her name was Herin.

“Thanks,” you said, smiling at her. She ended up spending a lot of the night with you and the boys. It turned out it was her first summer there, just a whim on her parent's end.

Junkyu's eyes wandered and spotted Eunwoo standing near the cooler. “Look, Y/N, your boyfriend is here,” he teased.

You looked over, blushing slightly when you saw Eunwoo. “He's totally yummy,” Herin said.

That made you smile. You could never really talk about guys on a real level with the three boys. “Thank you!” you exclaimed, turning back to look at Eunwoo. “He's seriously gorgeous.”

Her arm looped with your own, “Come on, let's go refill our drinks.”

The two of you quickly left, going over to the cooler where Eunwoo was with another tall, handsome boy. He spotted you and Herin before smiling. “Hi,” he spoke, his voice as beautiful and angelic as himself. “You're Y/N, right?”

The fact that he knew your name made your mind go blank and insides become mush. “Y-yeah,” you managed out, feeling Herin lightly squeeze your arm. You didn't care if Yugyeom had told him your name, you were just happy he had remembered.

Jihoon watched on with Yoonbin and Junkyu. “What could they possibly be talking about?” Jihoon scoffed. “They probably have nothing in common.”

Yoonbin smirked. “Jihoon, your jealousy is showing,” he said in a sing-song tone. “If you want to date Y/N so badly, then tell her how you feel. You won't get anywhere by not saying anything.”

That made Junkyu laugh but nod in agreement. Once again, Jihoon scoffed, but much more dramatically as he took another gulp of his beer. “Jealous? No way!”

“Come on, you've glared at any guy who stared at Y/N too long. An appreciative glance her way equals a glare from you,” Junkyu said. “Admit it, Y/N finally grew up during senior year and tons of guys have noticed. You're so used to her always being with you and us, so you're bothered that she has a thing for that Eunwoo guy and vice-versa.”

Jihoon was upset at the fact that he was so transparent to his two friends and the fact that they were right. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it. You were practically his best friend and he was so used to having you around him almost at all times. Seeing you making new friends and spreading your wings bothered him because he feared you leave him and he hated that.

You were so caught up in your conversation with Eunwoo that you hadn't noticed Herin and Mingyu totally hitting it off. Eunwoo was really nice, sweet, and handsome, but he wasn't very funny. In fact, he was kind of awkward. Still, you enjoyed his company enough and he enjoyed yours, but it was obvious to both of you that things would never turn romantic.

In all that time, you completely forgot about Jihoon, Junkyu, and Yoonbin. You felt really guilty since the summer was for them, but you were sure you'd see them plenty during university and were hoping you guys would start hanging out in Seoul. “I really had a nice time talking with you, but I think I should go find my friends and make sure they're not doing something stupid,” you told Eunwoo.

He smiled and nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I hope we can talk again soon,” he said.

Herin sent you a look, one that clearly asked if you wanted her to go with you. You slightly shook your head, wanting her to spend more time with Mingyu. Without another word or silent communication, you left.

“There you are!” you exclaimed when you finally found Jihoon. He was alone in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the foot of the bed with his arms wrapped around a pillow. “I've been looking for you everywhere! Where are Yoonbin and Junkyu?”

Jihoon didn't respond right away and you watched his head bob up and down slightly. That was when you realized he was drunk. He reeked of alcohol. “Y/N! There you are!” he exclaimed, his words only slightly slurred, which was surprising.

You giggled but felt bad for not watching out for him and stopping him from drinking too much. “Come on, let's go find Junkyu and Yoonbin and then get you to bed.”

Grabbing his hands, you struggled to help him to his feet. You threw the pillow back onto the bed and lightly slapped Jihoon's face to wake him up. “Why didn't you hang out with me tonight? This is our time, Y/N. All these guys are suddenly talking to you because you're so hot and you have no time for me.”

Then, without any warning, he kissed you. It wasn't a long kiss, but longer than expected. When he pulled away, his head fell on your shoulder. “Holy shit,” Yoonbin's voice said. You hadn't even noticed him and Junkyu.

“We never speak of this,” you say and they nod. “Come on, help me get him home.”

It was kind of a struggle, but you guys eventually got him on Junkyu's back and then home. You were relieved your parents weren't awake because you didn't want Jihoon to do something dumb.

Before Jihoon fell asleep, you made him eat something and drink water.

♡♡♡♡

“I did what?!” Jihoon shrieked, rubbing at his temples right after. His headache had gone down a great deal, but not completely. “No, there's no way. Did I do anything else?”

Yoonbin nodded, “You called her hot.”

That made him groan and bury his head in his hands. You had gone to get ice cream with Herin and he was sure you were telling her what happened. The two of you had only just met but he could tell you hit it off and finally had a girl to confide in.

“How bad is this? Like, have I made things totally awkward or will Y/N and I be okay?”

Silence took over as the three boys thought about this. “Honestly, I think Y/N just chalked it up to a drunken mistake on your part,” Junkyu confessed. “Knowing Y/N, she'll pretend it never happened.”

Jihoon didn't know how he felt about that. On one hand, he wished it had never happened, so pretending it didn't was the next best thing. On the other, all he wanted to do was talk about it with you. He couldn't just leave the situation up in the air, could he? This was why he never wanted to confess his feelings to you. When feelings got involved, things only got complicated.

The front door opened and Jihoon wondered if it was your guys’ parents coming back from whatever thing they had planned to do in town. “I'm back!” you called out, shutting the door behind you. You went upstairs and found the three boys in Jihoon's room. “Feeling better?”

Jihoon swallowed hard as he nodded. Things felt weird but he knew that was only on his end. “How was ice cream with Herin?” Junkyu asked, trying to ease the awkwardness caused by Jihoon.

You sat down next to Jihoon. You were close, closer than he expected. He felt like he couldn't breathe properly. “Good. We ran into Eunwoo-oppa and Mingyu-oppa. I think Herin and Mingyu-oppa are really hitting it off.”

Oppa? You were calling Eunwoo that already? The two of you just met! Were you really already that close? It made Jihoon feel upset and jealous and he hated that. He didn't want to be that guy, but he couldn't help it.

“What about you and Eunwoo?” Yoonbin asked. Jihoon looked at him, wondering why he'd ask that. Was he trying to make Jihoon even more jealous? Or was it just to get some clarity. Maybe both.

You shrugged. “I don't know. He's really nice, but I don't think it'll go anywhere,” you confessed, making Jihoon feel relieved. You looked at him and then grabbed his chin gently between your thumb and index finger. “Are you sure you're feeling better? You look flushed.”

Probably because he was. He wasn't sure how he looked, but he was freaking out on the inside. His heart was beating like a drum and he thought he would combust any second from your touch.

“I-I'm fine, just a little hot,” he finally said, cringing at his word choice.

Nodding slowly, you said, “Okay. Let's all watch a movie together. I'll meet you guys down there.”

They watched you leave before Junkyu hit Jihoon's arm. “Are you trying to make it awkward?!” he exclaimed. “Y/N was acting completely normal but you were acting like you two just met!”

“I know! I'm sorry!” Jihoon exclaimed. “I just can't help it. Even though I don't remember the kiss, I still feel like it only made me like her more. Now that I've crossed that line of friendship, it's hard to be just friends.”

Yoonbin sighed, “Then either talk to Y/N or get over it. This summer will be painful if you keep acting this way.”

That night, Jihoon couldn't sleep. He just laid in bed staring up at his ceiling, listening to the soft, low hum of the fan he had on his dresser. Earlier at dinner, he spazzed out when you got too close to grab some more rice and he ended up spilling soda all over you. He was sure his mother noticed he was acting weird and was thankful she didn't say anything … yet.

Normal. He just wanted things to be normal again. Checking the clock, he saw that midnight was just a few minutes away. With a smile on his face, he threw his covers off and went to your bedroom. You were sound asleep and he felt guilty waking you up, but only a little.

“Y/N, wake up,” he said softly, shaking you gently. You woke up fairly quickly.

Rubbing at your eyes, you whined, “What are you doing?”

“Come on, let's go for a midnight swim.”

That made you smile. A midnight swim was a tradition for you and Jihoon. The first midnight swim always occurred within the first week of summer to mark its official start. Midnight swims were sacred for the two of you because they were just yours. No parents, no Junkyu, and no Yoonbin. It was your time with each other, so it was special.

“Okay, let me just change.”

He shook his head as you climbed out of bed. “No time! We'll just swim in our clothes!” he exclaimed in a hushed tone. Without another word, he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him.

The two of you were panting slightly as you stood on the beach near the water. The night was quiet and no one else was out, which was kind of surprising. “Um, Jihoon?” you questioned, finally able to get a word in. He hummed in response, his eyes taking in the waves in the moonlight. “I'm not wearing pants.”

His eyes immediately went to your legs, realizing you were only in a T-shirt and underwear. “Sorry!” he exclaimed, peeling his eyes away. “I shouldn't have just pulled you out of there like that or looked at you.”

That made you giggle and he was kind of confused. “It's fine. It was basically an invitation for you to look.”

“Well, we can just swim in our underwear? It's like swimwear anyway.”

You both knew that wasn't completely true. Underwear was more intimate than swimwear, which was why they were called “intimates”. Still, you didn't say anything and nodded instead. Jihoon was quick to strip and remove his shirt and sweatpants. He waited nervously as you removed your shirt.

“You can look at me, Jihoon. I won't think you're a pervert or anything,” you said. He nodded and looked at you, trying his best to not check you out. You held out your hand. “Come on, let's go.”

He took your hand and then the two of you ran into the water. For the next half hour or so, you just swam and talked. Things felt normal for the first time all day. Maybe things didn't have to return to normal, though. Things had changed, clearly, but maybe it wasn't bad. Maybe things could change to a new kind of normal.

“Summer has officially begun,” Jihoon grunted softly as he sat down on the porch of the house. Content smiles were on both of your faces.

You sighed happily. “I thought it was going to be like any other summer, but it feels different. It feels like something big will happen.”

You sounded wistful; like you hoped it would be different. “Are you talking about the kiss?”

Jihoon couldn't believe he blurted that out. All he wanted to do was disappear, but he couldn't. “That kiss didn't mean anything, Jihoon. I mean, you were just drunk and upset,” you said. “We can't like each other, either, right? We just wouldn't work. I mean, me with you?”

What was that supposed to mean? “Yeah, you're right. We wouldn't work,” Jihoon said, getting worked up because he was upset. “I'm not good enough for you, right? I can't compare to Eunwoo. He's gorgeous, tall, and x, y, and z. Why would you want me when you could have him?”

You opened your mouth to talk, but Jihoon was already storming inside.

♡♡♡♡

“Where's Jihoon?” your mother asked, joining you on the porch the next afternoon.

You shrugged, “Probably with Junkyu or Yoonbin. I don't know.”

She sat down next to you. “Interesting.”

Letting out a small sigh, you bookmarked your page and set your book down. It was obvious your mother knew something was going on between you and Jihoon and wanted answers. “We got into a fight last night, okay?”

Clearly, you were upset. “What happened? Come on, vent to Momma,” she said, making you smile a bit.

“At that party the other night, he got really drunk and kissed me. I was gonna act like it hadn't happened for the rest of my life since I thought it was just a drunken kiss, but I think it meant more to Jihoon than I thought,” you confessed to her. “He brought it up last night and then stormed off looking upset. I was just flustered and couldn't stop talking, so I think there was some misunderstanding. I've tried to clear things up, but he's avoiding me, ignoring my calls and texts, and even hangs up Yoonbin and Junkyu's phones when I call them.”

She smiled, soothingly stroking your hair. “He's just upset. Give him time to cool off and I'm sure he'll be open to talking again. Jihoon could never stay mad at you.” You nodded, hoping she was right. “The more important thing is if you like Jihoon back. From what I can tell, he likes you but is jealous of other guys, especially Eunwoo.”

You had no idea how she knew about Eunwoo and could only assume she had eavesdropped when you were on the phone with Herin earlier. “Eunwoo is nice and everything, but he's a little dull and awkward. I really like Jihoon. He's like my best friend. He understands me so well and everything about him is great. I think I've always liked him but I've wanted things to stay normal.”

“Well, sometimes normal has to change and become a new normal. Don't let ideas like that keep you from being happy, sweetie,” she told you. She made a really good point.

You smiled at her, “Thanks, Mom. I really needed this.”

“Of course, kiddo.”

She went back inside and you picked your book back up, feeling better than you had all day.

That evening, you had been so prepared to talk to Jihoon, but he didn't come home. You had forgotten Junkyu was going to have his house to himself, so Jihoon was staying over along with Yoonbin. Junkyu had invited you, but you felt awkward to just show up after a whole day of avoiding each other. You decided to just stay at home with all the parents. It was weird since Jihoon and you were almost always together, but it really helped you to realize just how much Jihoon meant to you.

You couldn't sleep that night. It was so weird that the whole day passed without you and Jihoon talking. It made you feel weird and unsettled. Instead of just laying in bed, you went downstairs for ice cream. When you got down there, you just about had a heart attack when you saw Jihoon sitting at the table.

“What are you doing here?!” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, a hand over your pounding heart. “I almost peed my pants!”

That made the corners of his mouth twitch slightly. “I couldn't sleep, so I left Junkyu's,” he told you. You nodded, feeling awkward. “Okay, that's not the complete truth. I felt really guilty for ignoring you all day and couldn't sleep. I came here to talk to you, but I chickened out and have been sitting here trying to give myself the confidence for the past 10 minutes.”

“You didn't have to chicken out. I've been trying to talk to you all day.”

He nodded. “I know, but I was hurt and upset.”

“That's why I was trying to talk to you. It was a misunderstanding, Jihoon. I was just talking without thinking because I like you, too. Eunwoo-oppa is just a friend. He may be good looking and stuff, but he doesn't begin to compare to you,” you confessed. “You're my best friend, Jihoon, and you'll always be my number one. I never told you this because I was afraid of things changing, but I shouldn't be. Change is good and that's how a new normal can come about.”

He finally cracked a smile. “God, I'm an idiot,” he said softly. He was going to say something else but shut his mouth when you used your finger to angle his head and kiss him.

It was awkward since he was sitting and you were standing, but he was quick to pull you down onto his lap. The kiss spoke more than actual words. You knew he wanted you and vice-versa. You guys loved each other and didn't have to be afraid anymore. The kiss was filled with passion as your lips moved in sync and tongues explored. It probably wouldn't have escalated from there, but you would never know. The kiss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a camera. You turned and saw both of your mother's.

Letting out a small yelp, you threw yourself off Jihoon. In the process, you tripped over your own foot and fell on your back. “You guys are so embarrassing!” Jihoon cried out as he quickly helped you up.

“Hey! Let us be happy!” his mother exclaimed. “Do you know how long we've waited for this? We've been wanting you two to end up together since you were kids.”

You sighed. “You got your wish, happy?” you asked. They nodded and you shook your head slightly. “We're going to bed, now, so goodnight.”

All of you went to your respective rooms. You pecked Jihoon's lips one last time before turning to go to your room. Jihoon grabbed your wrist and spun you around, crashing his lips onto your own. Once again, you got distracted and lost in the kiss.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” he said softly as you went to your room, making your insides melt.

You both shut your doors and let out dreamy sighs before climbing into bed, ready for whatever the rest of the summer had in store for you guys.

[kazdumps]

It’d been days since then; Qi Rong had made a shelter and from then on didn’t see anyone. That was fine with him, meeting people either turned into a fight, or the someone was already dead. He had enough things to deal with. He wasn’t used to actually finding himself food to sustain but now that he was mortal (or somewhat like mortal) he needed to eat.

Eat, sleep, drink, and shit. Over and over again. Sometimes add more sticks to shelter, but his routine didn’t deviate much. If it was not for the cold, sleep wouldn’t be much of an issue, but because of it, it became a struggle. Even then, he didn’t expect anything to come from it.

That was until he heard footsteps from outside. He held his breath, hoping that whomever was out was passing by, and maybe wouldn’t even see this wooden structure. It wasn’t very big, and surrounded by shrubbery, it was easy to miss.

For a minute there was silence, and he actually thought that he wouldn’t be bothered. That was, until his eyes flicked upward.

A hulking figure stood at the entrance between the branches. While his view was slightly obstructed he could see part of them. Their hair hung loose, but no tangles infiltrated the hair odd in their desperate situation. Eyes abyss-like landed on Qi Rong and didn’t move.

He didn’t get up, not yet, but his hand hovered anticipatingly at his belt. A simple machete but would be easy to throw and run when things turned sour. The man didn’t introduce himself, but one of his status didn’t need to. Just from his eyes alone, still an unwavering gaze, the green ghost knew it was He Xuan Black Water Submerging Boats. Now the title, just like Night Touring Green Lantern, was useless. A remnant of the past but the title, even left unsaid, still rang with an air of intimidation.

“No need for that,” He jabbed a finger and the weapon that he was desperately trying to conceal. His words held no emotion to betray his intentions, but he could see the axe strapped to his back.

Even in this meeting between calamities, the wind would not cease. Qi Rong was not sure which fate was better; whether he’d prefer to face the blade in He Xuan’s possession or Mother Nature’s unyielding wrath. All that he pondered, he knew it wasn’t his end decision. At the same time, he would not sit still.

“Do you think I’ll just lay here as you attack? Just because you are above and I’m below? That I’d give my life so easy because you found me first? You’re a fucking idiot, even more so then my cousin!”

“I’m not here to fight,” He still stood at the entrance but either due to his eyes adjusting to the dark or the other adjusting his position. His expression was downward, eyes slightly droopy, and there was a slight but noticeable shake to his body. “ I want a truce. During the night.”

For a moment more they stared at each other. Their hatred might not be as much as the one Qi Rong held for Hua Cheng and vice versa. However, that didn’t stop He Xuan to purposely find reasons to fight (after being egged on by the green ghost several times). And now, especially during this death game with only one to come on top, truces seemed only sustainable in fantasy or idiocy.

“Why during the night only? There’s only a few of us left… do you think I’m stupid enough to fall in a trap? HAHA! What do you take this ancestor for, dogfucker?” He growled, the more he talked the more his mouth reverted to old habits. Even so, his talk was filler giving him time thinking of the best defense. If he jumped up to his feet too fast then the unstable structure could fall easily; but that kind of incident could incite some brief confusion in which he could get an advantage.

“I…” he sighed mumbling something short under his breath “At this rate, with this weather, we will both freeze to death. If we sleep in the same… quarters, using a combination of any tools that are beneficial and our body heat, then our life span will extend. If you’d really rather drag us both down, so be it, but it will benefit us. Understand, you’re the last person I’d come asking for a favor. And I would not ever consider sleeping even in the same vicinity as you unless drugged. Unfortunately, you really are one of the last people around.”

He was about to tell him off; this ancestor had been through worse than a little cold and he had no care for the pathetic life before him. But then his mind flashed to Gu Zi. The small child huddled in a ball, desperate to cling to another day. His eyes had been half open when he was found, the last sign of his struggle between life, death, and sleep.

It would’ve been a slow death. He wonders what the little boy did before fully succumbing. Did he call out for his father? Was it from a small hope that his dad could do anything or a delusion of hypothermia? Did he even have a voice left or was everything just echoing in his head? Maybe, no noise at all reached him and he drowned in the silence he couldn’t break.

The cold was unpredictable. The first night he’d made a fire but in the nights following even the air snuffed even a bit of embers. And now, the weather is its worst yet. He needed to live. Shivering here was as unpredictable as a rolling dice and he couldn’t take that chance any more. His son couldn’t be disappointed, even if he was gone he knew the little boy would cry at the thought of his dad in pain. Being a ghost was so much easier, but now the deep unnerving feeling of not being able to come back filled him. Mortality plagued every fiber and he needed the security of keeping a heartbeat.

“First rule, you keep your weapon outside the shelter- Hell I’d take it myself but I know you’d whine about it. Second, once the sun rises and the warmth comes back, you leave immediately. Third, to make it clear, I have no intention of helping your shitty life. This is for me, myself and I,” Silently he added his son, but the other didn’t need to know of anyone else.

Silence ensued and he saw He Xuan back away. A mix of pride of intimidating him, confusion of intimidating , and fear that he’d die surged through him until he heard a loud clunk. Following the noise the tall man shuffled into the shelter. He came in shoulder first before ducking so he didn’t hit his head nor topple the thing over.

“What’s in your bag?” While the hatchet was gone a brown satchel hung at his side.

“Food, medicine kit, and various plants. Unless you're actively dying in the night from frostbite, you won’t get any.”

“How do I know you're not hiding anything you could attack me with? You’re a deceptive fuck like that,” He would spit if his mouth wasn’t dry holding onto the little water he’d found in the morning.

“ I don’t care if you look. I don’t even care if you touch. But I’m watching your every move. Just because we have a truce doesn’t mean you're taking what is mine and I’m only sharing anything that could benefit this shelter,” He tossed the bag, his eyes didn’t have any light to reflect so two pools of black followed his hands.

It wasn’t long to look through the bag, and after finding no shovels, knives, needles, miniature spears, or the like that could be efficiently utilized against him, he threw it back.

“Fine, you're clean,” A hidden portion of him was glad the water ghost had no hidden weapons in his bag. It almost gave him complete relief that he’d find himself bleeding when he awoke.

It didn’t take long after for He Xuan to settle himself next to Qi Rong.

“Couldn’t start a fire, either?”

“Well clearly you fucking couldn’t,” What was the others plan? The water ghost had never been the talking type, even when he’d hidden himself as a Heavenly Official, instead he locked himself away from the world plotting an unsatisfactory revenge.

“That’s what I implied with the word ‘either’… it’s because the ground is too wet in this area”.

“Why are you trying to be ‘goody goody’? I won’t lower my guard around you, even if you knelt and begged me to,” He liked the idea of such a thing happening, and wondered if the cold was getting to him to make him only remember such an idea now.

“… I’m being polite, otherwise this shitty situation gets ten times worse. Can’t you pretend to be pleasant tonight?”

“This ancestor is a joy to be around. I just despise you.”

“And you despised Xie Lian, Hua Cheng, Lang Qian Qiu, and any other person you meet. You constantly flaunt yourself around only showing off you're the worst. And while you're gross and unpleasant to be around, you still aren’t even close to being the most powerful. You remind me of a spoiled little kid who while seeking attention from his parents found kicking is easier than being gentle. Now, you think playing scary ghost will get you some fame.”

“…” He silently debated stabbing him “Fuck you, piece of shit. No brains.”

“And then the childish insults; you’ve never really grown since being ten, huh?”

“I thought you said you were being polite or something!? And now-“

“Shhh,” He put a finger to his own lips, which only made his blood turn from boiling to melting.

“And now!! Silencing me! You fucking-“ He Xuan clasped a hand over Qi Rong’s mouth and leaned close to his ear.

“Noise. Outside.” Those two words landed on his neck, and even with their intentions the warmth of his breath reaching his cold skin soothed like an ointment on a burn. He could barely even hold onto his surge of anger, it dissipating as quickly as it was built.

Usually if a hand was brought over the green ghost’s lips he wouldn’t hesitate to bite down and sink his teeth into the flesh. But a sense of rare self preservation and the fleeting warmth that had almost drug-like effects coursed through his body and he stayed still and silent.

Straining his own ears, he heard faint rustling. Whether animal or person it wouldn’t be ideal to be caught. Minutes passed by, and though the noise faded into the night, his mouth was still held. Still, he couldn’t even stir himself to fight it. Whatever it’d been, it was a wake up call. If they fought with raised voices, and lost control of their surroundings, they’d wind up as if they’d never even made the truce in the first place.

“I’ll remove my hand,” It wasn’t even loud enough to be a whisper, only his mouth moving the air in between the only audible thing “And then we’ll lay down parallel facing each other. We’ll be the warmest. If you have a complaint, actions are better than words”.

It was a rare moment that even the direct commands didn’t ignite anything in him. Every fiber of his being wanted to retaliate, whether with words or kicks, but the cold air kept his brain in check. All his focus was on warmth and survival. And after feeling such a warmth, he decided that despite the bad blood between them, he’d work with the other calamity.

However, it didn’t make it any less awkward to have to stare at him while sleeping. Even closing his eyes, his inner mind told him he was being stared at, and he’d peek out only to see it was true. And despite every precaution the sense of danger wasn’t completely alleviated. He Xuan must’ve felt the same way, because he didn’t appear to be sleeping either. Even though they both were alive again, his eyes had a glassy glaze to it. Maybe he’d always been that way since birth. Or maybe his life had drilled it into him.

“Hey,” His voice was once again soft. It’d been hours since the first noise so they might’ve been close to being clear now.

“Was originally your idea, but fine. I’ll flip over-“

“Come closer.”

“What,” He tried to only mouth it all, but the t came out crisp.

“ It’ll be warmer. If I’m freezing I can only guess you are too.”

It was true. Though he didn’t feel the air like when he was alone, he also remembered the brief moment in which they’d been close enough a hand was over his mouth and his breath was on his neck. Obviously the position wasn’t ideal, but being closer may bring more comfort and lead to a better sleep,

“You better not snore in your sleep.” He scooted closer, until their noses almost touched.

It really did make a difference, like a comfortable hearth. He could almost feel the life between the two of them, and it made him dizzy. Wanting to stop the feeling of the world twirling around he buried his head into whatever was near. It was an unconscious decision but soon he heard a “Hmpf” that echoed through him. His motions hadn’t caught up with his mind and only then realized his head was buried into the other's chest. A rush short circuited him, and he just prepared to shove against him when two arms wrapped around his back.

He went rigid but felt nothing sharp poking into him. The arms remained.

“Warmest” His pulse pounded against his skull. It was mind boggling that the other calamity wasn’t bothered. He was known for being relentless when he had a goal, so he could only assume this mutual seek for heat had led him to be alright with the sudden action. Through the thick clouds of his brain whirring warning sirens, he remembered being told actions were better than words.

Soon his heart (he could barely get used to this thing) stopped racing and his breathing sank up with the one he was buried into. The embrace was finally something he could get used to.

Oh, it was actually comfortable in someone else’s arms. It’d become a fuzzy memory for someone to… hold him so gently.