#so fed up with these people who steal my gifs

[hannieehaee]

GOODNIGHT N GO

18+ / mdi

summary: having always seen minghao from afar, you always considered him unattainable, with him never interacting with you while his friends brought you around. unbeknownst to you, he had similar thoughts about you, constantly keeping his distance, thinking you must've been interested in his members instead. luckily for you, you had two very meddling friends, too fed up with your mutual idiocy.

content: idol!minghao x hybeidol!reader, reader is mingyu and seokmin's bestie, afab reader, reader is implied to be a 97 liner but its not a huge plot point, acquaintances to lovers, very adorable crushes, assume minghao is a little shier and less social than he seems irl pls, reader is mentioned to have some family troubles, minghao literally courts reader aaahh he's too cute, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation (kind of), dry humping, mentions of pregnancy, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 9.3k

a/n: this is one of my works im least proud of so pls have that in mind as u read<//3

masterlist | patreon

"C'mon, one more drink."

"Yeah, you can't leave yet, it's too early."

"I have a shoot early tomorrow. I can't be hungover for it," you said for the nth time in the past five minutes.

Currently, you were situated in Seventeen's dorm rooms in the Hybe building.

It wasn't too common for groups to stay within the building, seeing as most people had their own individual apartments or homes outside of the premises, but Seventeen would often frequent their own dorms for hanging out purposes, only ever spending the night if they were too tired to make it home.

As per usual, you were hanging out with Mingyu and Seokmin, with Wonwoo and Seungkwan having decided to also make an appearance. It was quite usual for them to keep you around after work (and even to occasionally steal you during working hours). As expected, the overly extroverted 97 liners of the group had taken you under their wing early after your debut, debuting you as a the only female member of the friend group.

Along with you, there were guys from other groups who had also been blessed with a birthday within the year 1997. This, of course, included Xu Minghao, though he was mostly an honorary member, as he mostly kept to himself and never actually joined in with the group. Even after years of being best friends with multiple members of the Seventeen, you were yet to really get to know Minghao. The man remained a mystery to most of those around him.

This was quite unfortunate to you, seeing as you'd developed a bit of an unrequited interest in the guy. There was something about his calm and confident aura that drew you in. Unlike most of his other members, he had a tendency to keep to himself and keep outside social interaction to a minimum. This had at some point caused you to hold the belief that maybe he didn't like you, but your friends had informed you time and time again that this was simply his personality. However, that didn't prevent you from wanting to seek him out (though never actually going through with it).

This was why despite your previous excuse to leave to sleep in early for tomorrow's schedule had been thrown out the window the moment you spotted certain boy with a mullet walk into the room, rubbing at his eyes as if he'd just been awoken.

"What are you guys still doing up? I thought you'd all be gone by now," mumbled the pajama-clad boy, approaching the couch Mingyu was currently leaning back on and taking a seat next to him.

Subconsciously, you straightened your posture, attempting to appear casual at his sudden appearance.

You could count the times you'd been in Minghao's proximity with one hand. Being honest, you weren't quite sure if he even knew who you were past the general knowledge of your role as an idol.

"Sorry, Hao. We forgot you were staying here tonight," apologized Seokmin as he absentmindedly handed the boy an open bottle of soju.

Minghao was joining in on the drinking, it seemed. Naturally, this caused you to comfortably snuggle into the couch and forget all thought of leaving before having that last drink you had been offered just moments prior.

In front of you was a coffee table and two boys sitting on the couch opposite; Mingyu and Minghao. Surrounding you were Wonwoo and Seungkwan, while Seokmin remained standing and leaning against the counter to your right. Despite your distance to Minghao, you had the privilege of having a seat in which you could stare at him without it seeming unnatural.

"Oh, you've met Y/N, right?", Seungkwan suddenly remembered, taking his usual role as mood-maker to make an introduction if need-be.

Minghao finally laid eyes on you for the first time, giving you a polite smile and a subtle bow of his head, "I think a few times. Hi, Nice to see you."

Returning his gesture, you responded similarly, taking your eyes off him right after and giving your attention to the large boy sitting next to him who was now speaking.

"So, staying for that last drink?", he asked you, holding out a glass for you, giving you the option to take or deny it.

"Sure. Just this one," you insisted, grabbing the glass and taking a sip. Cheers erupted from your friends at your agreement to stay, with all of them seemingly tipsy enough to get excited at such a minuscule act.

On your peripheral, you missed how Minghao continued looking your way, smiling softly to himself as he stared.

-

"Well, that's the last of them," chuckled Minghao the moment Seokmin began slouching back on the couch, clearly falling into deep slumber.

Only an hour later and all four boys had either fallen victim to their drunken state and lost to the battle to slumber, or had made their way to bed before their dignity left them.

In front if you laid a snoring Mingyu as a passed out Seokmin subconsciously attempted to cuddle into him in his sleep. Not too far earlier, the two other boys had left, leaving you and Minghao as the last standing of the night.

As the night had progressed, rearrangements were made to your sitting accommodations, resulting in Seokmin joining Minghao and Mingyu on their couch right after Seungkwan's departure, leading to a peeved out Minghao making his way onto your couch to avoid the two large men bugging him as they got progressively more drunk.

At that moment you wanted to think it might've been an excuse to sit closer to you, but you knew that was just wishful thinking. It was something that made you giddy regardless, as you now found yourself side to side with him, practically alone in the boys' dorm's living room, — ignoring the two sleeping men across you — nursing drinks as your mutual tipsiness accompanied you.

"They were never good drinkers anyway," you responded with a chuckle, resting your back against the back of the couch as Minghao followed along, head slightly turning to face you.

There was a moment of comfortable silence as you both enjoyed your current buzz. Similarly to you, Minghao had chosen to not drink much through the time he'd joined you and the guys, choosing to nurse a single drink through the night. You'd had two, but found yourself still fully lucid.

"I don't think we've ever formally met, huh?", he mused, nodding in your direction.

"A few times, but you never hang around enough for me to get a word out," you agreed.

This pulled a chuckle from him, "Sorry, despite popular belief, I'm not as much of a social butterfly as my bandmates."

"I don't think anyone could possibly be as social as those two," you gestured to the two boys sleeping across from you, "What? You don't enjoy drinking til losing your inhibitions?", you joked.

"I envy them sometimes. I mean, clearly I've been missing out on a lot," he revealed, giving you an unreadable smile.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Haven't made too many friends in the industry so far. I keep to myself too much sometimes, I think."

"Well, you could always join us more often. The guys are always inviting you. We'd all love the company," you encouraged, offering him a smile back.

He hummed at you, "Yeah? I'll take your word for that, then," he leaned over to the coffee table in front of you, putting down both of your drinks before pouring two shots and handing one over to you.

"Here," he clinked with you, "To my new friend," he gave you a confident yet appreciative smile, taking his shot afterwards.

"Oh? Okay, then. Sure," you followed along and took your shot, giggling at how easily he turned up his charm, "So, friends, huh?", you asked after you'd both downed your shots.

He shrugged, "Maybe we'll be the best of them, who knows."

After that night with Minghao, — which was spent drinking and reminiscing on your own personal memories with the two idiots you liked to call your best friends — you began to see him more frequently. You didn't get to know each other too much that night, being far too tipsy and sleepy to make it past an hour of alone time with him. However, his frequent presence helped you grow accustomed to him. It was nice to see the contrast between him and Seokmin and Gyu.

The two of you still didn't talk too much, usually sticking to comfortable silences more than anything else. His company was still always welcome, and very much encouraged by the three of you. Seokmin and Mingyu never questioned his sudden desire to begin taking them up on their offers to hang out, simply accepting his newfound presence as a gift.

You hoped that your crush on the boy wasn't too obvious, but as of now, you were pretty sure you were in the clear. Had those two known of your crush, they would've already ambushed you with a million questions about it. There was also the fact that you didn't want to get in the way of what Minghao clearly wanted to be a friendship and nothing more. Sure, he was very courteous to you, but nothing he ever did or said ever gave you any signal that he meant for your interactions to be anything but platonic.

Any outing between you and Minghao was always crowded with your two other friends. Even if any part of you wanted to act out on your crush, it was practically impossible due to their constant presence. The dynamic you'd quickly formed had been nice, though, as it usually consisted of Seokmin and Mingyu as a duo while you and Minghao stuck to one another. Your calm and introverted demeanors went very well together.

Walking side by side during any outing whilst your two friends led the way, too lost in their own shenanigans, you and Minghao smiled softly to yourselves at the other's company. No words were needed as you enjoyed the breeze of the night. You knew all to well that there'd be news articles on your outing, — yet another sighting of the 97's of SEVENTEEN with Y/G/N's Y/N — but it was such a common occurrence that no one truly paid any mind to it anymore.

"Hey, how about we rent a karaoke room to end the night?", Seokmin had suddenly halted his movements, causing Mingyu to bump into him at his abrupt stop.

Turning to face everyone, he looked around to see who agreed with his proposition. You'd already spent most of the afternoon at a restaurant nearby and walked through the streets of a populated clubbing area, so karaoke was not too out of the question in the context of the night.

Mingyu expressed his enthusiastic agreement, turning to you to see if you were down for it too. You noticed Minghao's eyes on you too, giving you an encouraging smile that let you know that he was interested in hearing your response before giving his own.

"How about we head back home and do karaoke there? There's probably already a ton of pictures of us hanging out today," you reasoned, not wanting to end the night just yet but also taking in mind your role as an idol.

Mingyu boo'd at you, "That's boring! I don't wanna go home yet," he pouted, clearly demonstrating how tipsy he currently was.

Seokmin agreed, "We can buy those fruity drinks you like at the norebang, c'mon," he insisted, "Myungho, what do you think? You've never tagged along to the norebang with us, I'll pay," he offered, tugging at Minghao childishly.

Minghao turned to look at you, "Be gentlemen," he scolded, walking over to your side to face them, "If she wants to head home then we head home," he affirmed, rolling his eyes at his friends' exaggerated groans of complaint.

"Thank you, Hao," you nodded at him with a smile, sticking your tongue out childishly at the other two boys.

Seokmin headed over to your side to hold your hand whilst Gyu now stuck by Minghao, walking in pairs of two once more as you turned back to head over to the car you'd arrived in. Looking back, you caught Minghao's eye, also catching sight of a subtle smile thrown your way.

It took you very little to arrive to your apartment, with the two boys making their way in ahead of you as if they owned the place. You couldn't blame them, knowing they were very used to coming over quite frequently. Minghao, on the other hand, stayed behind with you, waiting for you to welcome him in. He was very cordial and reserved, something which endeared you to no end.

Entering, you lost sight of your other two friends, who were probably already situated in the large living room located upstairs, ransacking you of any alcohol and entertaining themselves with your karaoke system. Meanwhile, Minghao continued to follow your slow movements, waiting by your side as you locked the entrance door. His hands remained intertwined on his back, giving him a posture you would only really expect from royalty.

Smiling at you, he nodded silently as if to encourage you to move forward so he could follow you along the length of your home.

"Show me around? Looks like the guys are already really familiar with the place," he suggested with a smile.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "They're here a lot. Wonwoo banned any group hangouts at his and Mingyu's, and Vernon sleeps early, so we never really go to Seokmin's. I live alone and the place is pretty big, so they crash here a lot," you explained, beginning to walk into the entrance hallway, "I'll show you around. It's uselessly big. I mostly have spare rooms for leisure," you explained, walking by the various rooms of what could very well be called a mansion due to its size. Large homes like these were common amongst idols, though many of them usually shared with other members.

"It's pretty," he said as he looked around, stopping by a certain painting hanging on your wall.

"My place or the painting?", you asked, standing to his side, "Mingyu made it," you gestured to the painting.

"Yeah, it looked familiar," he nodded, eyes still on it, "You're pretty close with Gyu," he stated, though it gave you the intonation of wonder.

You nodded at him, "He was my first friend when I became an idol. I probably wouldn't have met most of my current friends if it wasn't for him. He's too outgoing for his own good," you shrugged, reminiscing on how you'd met Mingyu and consequently every other member of what came to become the 97's squad, along with most Seventeen members.

"I can relate to that," he began walking further into your home, with you following along, "He was my first friend in Seoul. Didn't care about the language barrier at all, always tried to make me feel welcome," he seemed to reminisce too.

"Yeah, that's Mingyu," you joined with a smile, "I'd say I'm equally close to Seokmin, though. You? Any favorites?", you joked.

"Hmm, those two? Not really, but like I told you, I'm interested in getting close to someone else," he subtly bumped shoulders with you as he walked, chuckling when you did it back.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I'll have to rethink my favorites also," you smiled back with suggestion in your eyes.

This came to be a common occurrence between you — silent yet comfortable smiles.

Making your way upstairs, you made a stop by a balcony located just before the living room, from which you could already hear Seokmin and Mingyu taking liberal use of through the karaoke you had installed. Sharing a laugh, you and Minghao walked over to the veranda and took in the night's breeze.

"I'm going back to China soon," he suddenly said, "We're mostly on a break for two months while Wonwoo and Jeonghan hyung go through their comeback. I'm sure the guys must've told you?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I went to visit them during rehearsals once or twice. How long will you be gone?" you couldn't help but show your disappointment.

"Sad? We barely met each other," he nudged your shoulder again, "Just two weeks. Been wanting to see my parents for a while."

"Aw, that's nice. I'm sure they must miss you," you coo'd, sniffling at the chilly weather.

"Cold? Wanna head back inside?" he asked, nodding when you shook your head in negation, "Yeah, I miss them too. Love them more than anything. It's the one downside to our career," he went on to respond to your question.

"That must be really nice. I'm glad you get to see them soon," you expressed your genuine happiness at him being able to go back to his home country. He truly seemed like the type of guy who lived and breathed for his family — at least going by how he treated the second family he found with his members.

"How about you? Gyu told me you're on rest. Visiting family any time soon?", he wondered, suddenly shoulder to shoulder with you, continuing to look forward as he leaned on the veranda.

"Uh, nope. I don't really see them often," you mumbled, "It's been a while, actually," you continued, sure your body language told on you. Minghao must've caught on to this, allowing the hand he had resting on the veranda to slide over and next to your own hand, gracing the back of your palm with his pinky.

It was such a small gesture, yet entirely too sweet for you to take in without blushing to yourself.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting a moment of silence pass before continuing to speak with that soft voice of his, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but ... you're always welcome in my home. My mom would love you," he assured.

You chuckled, "Yeah? You sure? You barely met me," you teased by mirroring his earlier statement, returning his gesture and letting your fingers trace his own absentmindedly on the veranda.

"Just a hunch. If I like you, then she'd love you," he reaffirmed.

"Oh, so you like me?", you finally turned to face him, smiling teasingly.

"Thought I was clear about that," he cocked his head in mock curiosity, smiling back at you, "Gotta be more assertive, got it," he murmured mostly to himself afterward, finally disconnecting himself from the veranda and beginning to walk away, stopping to gesture you follow him.

"C'mon, they'll get too drunk if we don't go babysit them," he reminded you, holding out his hand to guide you into your own home — it was a bit ridiculous, but you could tell soft touches and stolen glances were a big thing with him, and who were you to complain?

As expected, the guys ended up staying the night, too exhausted to get themselves off your couch until the following morning. Minghao, unlike them, did not reach a drunken state that impeded him from leaving, but it was silently agreed between the two of you that you did not want him to leave, nor did he want to be deprived of your company.

While the guys stayed passed out on the couch, you offered Minghao one of your spare rooms, something which made you feel slightly excited. Sure, you weren't sharing a bed or anything like that, but you'd still be waking up to Minghao in your home, and that was a win in your book.

Waking up, you headed to the kitchen, finding all your friends gathered in the interconnected dining room as they nursed their hangovers. Minghao had taken the liberty of making tea, smiling at you as he bid you good morning.

Heading over to where he leaned against the kitchen counter, you took the cup from him with a 'thank you,' blushing to yourself when his hand made contact with your hip as you turned around to lean on the counter next to him. The contact had clearly been with the intention to prevent you from hitting yourself against the counter, but it had still been to par with the cordial and charming persona Minghao carried with him, resulting in you swooning over him yet again.

Distracting yourself, you chose to make conversation with the two boys in front of you, chuckling at how exhausted they seemed (though out of their own volition).

"Do you guys have to drink yourselves into a coma every time you come over?" you deadpanned, earning a chuckle from Minghao.

"It'd be more fun if you joined us in blacking out," groaned Mingyu, "Not fair we're the only ones singing karaoke while drunk."

"Did I hold a gun to your head and tell you to chug or you'd die? You're just a sore loser. Not my fault Hao and I beat your score cause you were too drunk to sing," you retaliated, earning a hesitant hum in agreement from Seokmin, who was still silently suffering on the table in front of you.

"Anyways, what do you guys want to do today?", Mingyu changed the subject, "Norebang? Wanna call up Kook and Jaehyun? Or we could go to that Bruno Mars concert Jihoon suggested? Thoughts? Opinions?"

"How are you not dead right now? You drank twice as much as that guy and he's practically dead?" you gaped at him, pointing at the shell of a man that Lee Seokmin seemed to become during hangovers. Meanwhile, Minghao watched you with amusement, quietly enjoying your banter with his friend.

"Hao leaves soon, so we need to take advantage of all the time we have left!" he insisted, "We start promotions almost as soon as he returns and you'll probably be off your break by then. C'mon!"

"What do you think?", you turned to Minghao, "Concert? Norebang, again? What did you wanna do?"

He shrugged, "Whatever you want, I'm down," he sipped at his tea.

Seokmin began to gain consciousness again as he joined the conversation, "Jihoonie only has three extra tickets to Bruno Mars and Nonnie is going, remember, Gyu?", he stressed toward his friend, "And we already agreed we'd go, so you two are gonna have to find something else to do," he frowned, "Sorry, Y/N."

"What do you mean? Jihoon said he had five ti- ow, fuck," Mingyu groaned halfway through his statement, wincing as he hunched over on his seat in what seemed to be pain. Looking over at Seokmin for half a second before responding, his facial expression went from annoyed to normal as he responded again, "Right, I forgot, uh, he already gave out the tickets, sorry. I forgot I already made plans with Min and Jihoon for that," he rasped.

"Yeah, Hao can probably keep you company, though, right, Hao?", interrupted Seokmin, Mingyu nodding along, "We can meet at the afterparty after the concert. Jihoonie can probably get you guys in," he suggested.

As odd as the sudden lack of insistence that you join them at the concert was, you ignored it, opting to just take advantage of the opportunity to get some alone time with Minghao. Turning to your side, you could notice the remnant of a scowl on his face directed at Mingyu, but it immediately turned into a smile as soon as he faced you.

What you didn't notice, though, were the dumb smiles exchanged by your two friends as they watched you and Minghao for the rest of the time spent in your home, often removing themselves from the conversation if it meant you and Minghao got more alone time with one another.

Having any time spent without Minghao after that was practically unheard of. Being mutually on a break of sorts, it was easy to see each other quite often. The guys always enjoyed your company, and even more so that of Minghao's due to how rare it had been for him to join them in outings prior to this, so it was common for you to find yourself near the duo (+ Minghao) a few times a week.

Although you'd sometimes be joined by other 97 liners in the industry or various other members of Seventeen, it was hard to not take notice of the way in which Minghao would gravitate to you almost immediately. He gave you his utmost attention, opening doors for you, ordering your meals for you (with surprising knowledge of your taste), texting you good morning and good night, and even insisting he and the guys drop you off at home any time you hung out.

If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was trying to show romantic interest in you. However, you had quickly caught onto Minghao's courteous behavior towards everyone in his life. This was something he had even let you in on, telling you about his upbringing and even sometimes apologizing if he appeared too formal for his age. You always encouraged him, however, letting him know how much you appreciated how much of a gentleman he was — it was a nice contrast from your brotherly dynamic with his groupmates.

Trying not to visibly swoon at every act of service Minghao did for you proved to be a feat. Sometimes you'd have to take a breather to hold yourself back from throwing yourself at him. It was pathetic, really, how into him you were within such a short time of becoming his friend. But this was something you had to keep to yourself, not wanting to ever make him uncomfortable or halt his behavior.

It only became worse with time as you spent more and more time together. Mingyu and Seokmin were quite popular amongst idols, each having various friend groups to hang out with during their time off. You were sure Minghao must've also had many friends (despite his claims otherwise — he was too likable to be friendless), but he had chosen to spend most of his time before going to China with you. Claiming your hopes were up would've been an understatement. It was impossible to not want nor hope for Minghao to make a move and explicitly ask you out, but he never did. What he did do, however, was choose you to be the last person he saw before leaving Korea for the following two weeks.

Inviting you over to his place that night, Minghao had let you know that this was his last night in Korea before heading to China for the next two weeks. After having gotten close to you for the past two months, he had decided that you'd be the best company possible for a quiet evening in before departing. You didn't have it in you to even question why he'd pick you over his own groupmates, simply happy to spend time with him with the knowledge that you wouldn't get to do so for a while.

"Sorry for the short notice," he apologized as he approached you on the couch with a glass of wine, "But we've been hanging out so much, it felt natural to ask you over."

You hummed in agreement, "Should I ask why Seokmin and Gyu weren't invited or should I ignore it and take advantage of the extra wine?", you asked as you took a sip of said wine.

"They're too loud," he groaned exaggeratedly, "You're quiet, like me. Your company's too nice to pass up while I can have it," he added, joining you in your drinking.

"You can always just call me while you're there," you reminded him, "The guys call me all the time when they're overseas."

"I will be calling you," he affirmed, "But it's different in person. I'll still miss your company," he shrugged.

"I really did become your favorite, huh?" you teased, "Beat them all for first place in just two months," you were joking, but he still nodded in affirmation, chuckling along with you.

Grabbing onto the wine bottle he had laid in front of you, you went to top him off when you realized his glass was almost empty, only to be stopped by him.

"My plane's in a few hours, I can't drink too much. Being tipsy on a plane is one of the worst feelings."

"A few hours? You said tomorrow," you gaped at him.

"Well, it's 11:38, so it technically is tomorrow," he shrugged.

You sat up straight, "Dude, you should be leaving already. Why are we even here? Should I drive you? I can call my driver, he'll be here in-"

He grabbed onto your shoulders, halting your movements, "Calm down, my manager already had all my things sent over and the airport is only like twenty minutes away," he started with a calm voice, "Sorry I called you so late, we had a short promo to do earlier today, so my day got taken up at the last minute and I really wanted to say goodbye," he explained.

"Minghao, it would've been fine if you just left, I don't want to make you late."

"I didn't want to leave with no warning. It'd be rude of me to neglect saying goodbye to someone I care about," he said in the plain and cordial way in which he always spoke, grabbing onto your hand and tracing it like he had grown a tendency of doing.

Once more, it was hard not to swoon at such a small detail — the insistence in complicating his day only to make sure he didn't somehow make you feel neglected. Most people would've settled with a simple phone call or even just contacting you incessantly he returned, but Minghao wasn't like most people.

You looked down, nodding, "Thank you. That's sweet of you to say."

"I know it's only two weeks, but I'll still miss you. It's rare for me to really get close to anyone in the industry," he explained.

You nodded in agreement, "Yeah, me too. It kind of sucks since I'll be off my break by the time you come back and we probably won't be able to hang out as much anymore," you mumbled.

"I'll still be free. I'll come to you," he reassured, "Maybe we can finally hang out without the guys getting in the way," he smiled, "Just you and me?"

There was a slight suggestion in the background of your conversation. It was somewhat clear to you that you weren't speaking of mere friendship anymore. The moment was tender and suggestive, leaving room for something more. If you were mere friends, Minghao probably wouldn't have insisted in seeing you or been as communicative as he been so far. He wanted to make sure he preserved the friendship through his absence, however short it would be.

However, this was too much to get into knowing he'd be leaving likely within the hour. Instead of getting into it, you simply nodded along, cracking another joke about how loud and all over the place your friends could be. Despite offering to go with him to drop him off at the airport, he declined, insisting his driver drop you off home before he left for his flight. With a hug goodbye, he left you there, promising to call once he arrived and expressing that he'd miss you once again.

After two months of spending almost every day together, you felt genuine sadness at his sudden absence. Maybe it was dramatic of you to feel sad over such a short period of separation, but Minghao just had that effect on people — or at least you. He had taken such a quick interest in you that made you feel like the only girl in the world. It was specially bothersome to know that you'd both be too busy to see each other by the time he came back, but you were happy he'd get to see his family after so long.

With these thoughts, you went to sleep, waking up the next morning to a call from Minghao informing you of his arrival and of how content he was to be with his family. Being the last person he saw and first he contacted made your heart soar, whilst also making you frustrated at the back and forth that had been going on between you since you met him.

You needed him to make a move soon, or else you'd grow insane.

"You know he likes you, right?", asked Mingyu quite abruptly one day.

Only five days after Minghao's absence and you found yourself hanging out with your favorite dynamic duo yet again. Any time you had off was usually spent either with your own group or with them; it was the same for Seok and Gyu, who would always seek you out if possible.

"Who?", you asked despite having certain idea of who he was talking about.

"Boo, don't play dumb, its boring," joined in Seokmin, sitting next to you on the couch whilst the three of you engaged in a somewhat intense game of Mario Kart in Mingyu's living room. Wonwoo had decided to join in this time.

"Who are we talking about?", murmured Wonwoo distractedly as he annihilated the three of you at the game.

"Minghao," they both responded at once.

"Oh, yeah, absolutely," he agreed nonchalantly.

Suddenly you fell off a cliff in the game, having your character be fished away from the precipice and placed back on the race track as you widened your eyes at the statement.

"What? You know? How would you even know?," you rasped, completely caught off guard by the sudden (yet somewhat expected) revelation. You had hoped Minghao would confess to you at some point, or even occasionally convinced yourself it was all in your head. What had been low in your list of expectations had been your friends informing you of his feelings in his absence.

"He talks about you any time you're not around," Wonwoo began with a monotonous tone as most of his attention was taken up by the game, "He never leaves home, yet he's been doing it every day since he met you, he has that dopey smile all the time now. I don't know, it's just kinda obvious," he finished, chuckling when he realized he crossed the finish line.

"If Wonwoo can tell but you can't, we have a problem," said Seokmin, groaning at his loss in the game.

"I don't know," you shrugged, completely ignoring the game now, "We're friends. I know he acts a certain way, but I think he would've already said something if he liked me like that."

"He's just shy. And he's very particular about who he lets in. The fact he keeps coming back means he must really like you," emphasized Mingyu, sitting back against the couch with you.

"We've already been trying to get you guys alone as much as possible, but you're taking too long to tie the knot," added Seokmin, followed by nods from the other too.

"So what am I supposed to do with this information? Do I ask him out or-"

You were met with a chorus of 'No!'s, making you immediately shut your mouth.

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder," quoted Wonwoo, "He'll ask you out once he's back for sure."

Mingyu nodded in agreement, "He wasn't super direct about it, but he implied to us that he would, so yeah, be ready."

The thought made your heart race. How were you supposed to speak to him again after this without becoming a mess at the thought of your crush being reciprocated? Fuck, you even went as far as to wish you'd followed him all the way to China. The two wait week for him to come back suddenly felt like too much.

Both your thoughts and conversation were interrupted by the sudden vibration of your phone, leading three sets of eyes to turn to your direction.

"Let me guess," laughed Seokmin, wiggling his eyebrows at the implication of who may be calling at that moment.

"He never calls me, yet you've known him for two months and you get a daily call," Mingyu sulked jokingly as you went to pick up, ready to leave the room so you could answer the phone, "If you don't realize he likes you, then you're dumb."

"Don't tell him we told you," rasped out Seokmin before you were out of his line of fight, earning a nod from you before you picked up and left.

Walking into the room next door, you sat on Mingyu's bed as you finally responded, "Hello?"

"You looked beautiful today, you know," were Minghao's first words in response, "Gyu sent me some pictures you guys took yesterday. God, you look breathtaking."

You were unaware that Mingyu had sent Minghao the pictures he'd taken of you the day prior in which you went clubbing, something you were yet to do with Minghao as of yet. The implication of Minghao asking Mingyu for pictures of you made you blush.

"Stop flattering me," you groaned, attempting to keep control of your voice, knowing your nosy friends likely had their ears to the door.

"What, can't I appreciate beauty? I'm kind of jealous the guys got to see you all dressed up," he mumbled with amusement in his voice.

"Well, maybe don't leave the country next time," you teased, "I'll tell the guys to take you clubbing as soon as you're back," you promised, "Then maybe you can see me in a dress."

"Oh, is that a promise?", you could hear the teasing lip bite from your end, "Nah, not really a clubbing person. How about I make you dinner? Then you have another reason to wear a dress for me," he suggested.

For him. God, he wanted you dead.

You internally groaned at how smooth he was, "I feel like I should be the one cooking you dinner. As a welcome, you know?," you suggested instead. There was something about Minghao that made you want to throw everything away just to husband him up.

"You don't have to go out of your way. I should be the one treating you, it's what's right," he argued softly, "All you have to do is meet me at my place in a pretty dress, okay? I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay, you wore me down," you whined, "Damn you, Xu, you're good at this."

"Only with you," he murmured back.

The rest of the conversation went as your talks usually did. It was filled with updates from his day to day with his family and your own occurrences with your groupmates and friends. You kept him up to date with the happenings with Seok and Gyu, knowing he was more privy to calling you than them. The unspoken suggestion of you being of his utmost interest remained there, though nothing was ever explicitly said. Even as he asked you to go over to his place, you were unsure if it was meant as romantic date or if that'd come later. It made you giddy, but also far too excited to wait.

The two weeks passed faster than expected. Minghao's absence was barely felt, specially due to how constant his communication with you remained. The good morning messages, pictures, updates and lengthy phone calls never ceased, even consistently interrupting your time hanging out with your two shared friends. Any time you were on the phone with Minghao, you'd be met with teasing looks and exaggerated kissy sounds coming from either Seokmin or Mingyu (occasionally even Wonwoo or any other member who was present at the moment).

You had been completely worn down by both Minghao and his friends. The constant back and forth was enough to make you completely defenseless to Minghao's charm, but his friends' open teasing only made you more and more certain in Minghao's feelings for you.

Today was finally the day of his return, in which you found yourself getting ready to go meet him at his place. You'd insisted in picking him up (knowing Mingyu and Seokmin would also be getting him), but Minghao insisted you stayed behind, telling you he wanted to wash himself up and cook dinner before seeing you — Mingyu would be helping with the cooking.

You were anxious yet excited as you knocked on his door, though unsure if you'd be walking into a group meeting or a one-on-one between you and Minghao.

As soon as he opened the door, he offered you a soft hug, burying his face in your neck before even speaking, "Missed you," he mumbled, humming when you parroted the words back at him.

Disconnecting from him, you blushed when his hand immediately went to your own, leading you into his apartment with ease. His thumb played with the back of your palm whilst moving towards his couch, which had two plates of what looked to be like a luxurious meal — courtesy of Mingyu's cooking.

Sensing your eyes on the food, he spoke up, "Mingyu helped me make it. It's my mom's recipe," he informed you, "I'll let you eat soon, okay? Just ... There's something else I want to show you first, wait here," he let go of your hand as you stood in the middle of the living room, leaving the room for a few moments before returning with a small box.

Walking towards you with an excited smile, he became a little shier once he made eye contact with you. Your hands went up to receive the small box from him, his fingers gracing your own as he handed it over. A slight meeting of shy gazes was shared, but both your eyes went back to the box mere seconds later.

"You got me this? Hao, you really didn't have to," you murmured, opening it and gasping lightly at its content — it was a golden necklace; a little worn, but beautiful.

"It's my mother's," he started, enveloping your hands as they held onto the necklace, "I, uhm, I told her about you, and she insisted I bring this back to you," he explained, smiling down at you as you gaped at him, surprised he'd tell his mom about someone he'd just barely met, "She said I should give it to someone special. My dad gave it to her when they first started dating and she's kept it ever since."

"What?", your eyes widened attempting to hand back the piece of jewelry, "Hao, I- I can't accept this, it must mean a lot to your mom, I-"

He chuckled, interrupting you as he enclosed the necklace in your hands, "Please, Y/N, it's fine," he murmured once securing the necklace in your hold, "Here, at least try it on," he suggested as he gestured for you to turn around, now grabbing onto the necklace himself.

You followed along wordlessly, removing any obstacle from your neck and baring it for him to secure the necklace around your neck. His nimble feelings traced the back of your neck softly, leaning down to practically breathe you in as he adjusted it to perfection. Slowly, his face approached the back of your neck, nose and lips tracing your skin silently. You could feel the breath of his touch grace against your skin, forming goosebumps in its wake.

"You're so special to me, which is why I wanted you to have this," he breathed out, "But you already know that, right? How special you are to me?", he slowly turned you around, face still semi-buried in your neck. It was impossible to make eye contact due to the close proximity between you, but you could tell his eyes were heavy as he stared down at the skin of your neck.

Just as slowly as before, he separated from you, noses practically touching as he finally looked down into your eyes. His hand went up to your chin, making sure you were facing him just like he was you.

"Hao, I-"

"Sorry I waited so long," he chuckled lightly, "I wanted to make sure you liked me back before I made a move. Wanted to make you comfortable and get to know you, but it was hard to hold back sometimes," he explained, eyes going from your eyes to your lips, "Did I already tell you how beautiful you look tonight?", he interrupted his confession with a breathless chuckle as he allowed himself to look you up and down.

"Not yet, but-"

"Sorry, you look amazing. Is it all for me? Or is this reserved for friends too?", he asked as he bit a smile back, letting it break through when he registered your confusion, "I, uh, I used to think maybe you liked Mingyu, but that's not the case right? This is mutual. The guys see it too, I think. I know I haven't been too forward, but you understand my feelings, right?", he questioned, practically breathing you in.

Your breath was heavy at the confession, eyes trapped between locking on his eyes and lips, but eventually remaining stagnant on his lips. At some point, his hands went down and hesitantly made their way to your waist, pulling your body towards his when his act met no resistance.

"Hao, I- I like you too, I thought-," you cleared your throat and tried again, "I thought maybe you only liked me ad a friend, but, fuck, you like me too? I- I need to hear you say it," you let out, shocked any words could possibly come out of your lips when your brain kept screaming at you to kiss him.

Minghao appeared to have a similar idea, choosing to let hid actions speak for him rather than his words. The minute space between you became nonexistent when he kissed you, sighing softly into your lips when your mouth instantly opened for his.

The kiss wad soft and innocent; simply a demonstration of his feelings for you. He breathed out an 'I like you; so much,' into your lips after a few moments, but no response from you was permitted as he locked lips with you once more.

Any softness or innocence left the kiss soon after. It wasn't filthy by any means, but it was unexpectedly intense. Minghao seemed to be reading into your reactions, drinking in any sighs and moans coming from your lips and acting on them by kissing you harder, by slipping his tongue in your mouth, by softly pushing you against a wall and trapping you with his touches.

"Ha-hao," you moaned out between kisses, unsure of what you even wanted to say.

"Is this okay? I'll stop, just-"

You shook your head, cutting him off with a kiss, "Don't stop. Take me to your room," those were the last coherent words to leave you that night, earning a breathless chuckle from Minghao as he held your hand and led you to his room, food completely ignored.

Once in his room, you were led to his bed, though he stopped you before you could get in it, turning you around to kiss you again. His hands went back to your waist, rubbing up and down your back almost innocently. Your hands were the ones to become braver, going from playing with his hair to the front of his dress shirt, toying at the buttons and undoing the first few.

This silent demonstration of need made Minghao's hands become bolder, going down to your ass and kneading it. It was a back and forth. Any time you did something bold, he did too, going from your unbuttoning of his shirt to him throwing off your dress. You quickly ended up in your underwear while he stood in front of you shirtless and with unbuttoned pants.

His lips finally left yours, kissing down your neck and collarbones, heavy breath fogging against your skin while his hands explored your body. Your sighs occasioned groans from him along with mumbles filled with praise.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he sighed as he rested his forehead on your chest, taking a moment to breathe you in. Disconnecting himself from you, he finally looked you up and down, smiling softly at you before biting his lip from preventing his smile from growing any bigger, "You're gorgeous ... You're art. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and ... and I want you so bad," his voice grew deeper by the end of his statement.

He gently pushed you down, allowing you to lay back on the bed while he knelt before you. His hands felt the expanse of your legs, mouth gluing to the side of your knee and laying a soft kiss there. Upon noticing your reaction, more kisses joined the first one, trailing up and down your thighs while you looked down at him with a pained look in your eye. He seemed troubled with what he wanted to do first, needing to touch and kiss you all over.

"Can I?" he asked when his lips came far too close to your center, eyes hooded with desire.

No words left you, just a nod, but it was enough for Minghao to push your panties aside and go to town.

With a single lick, he went from slit to clit, groaning at the first contact. No more tentative touches came after that, only a mess of his tongue and lips drowning in you as his arms held your legs to prevent the incessant grinding of your hips against his face.

He ate you out expertly, moaning liberally against you as if the pleasure was all his own. His lips trapped your clit, sucking it in while his eyes rolled back. As much as your eyes attempted to close, you couldn't stand a single second in which you didn't get to see him as he gave you pleasure.

Your first orgasm came quickly, but it never fully subsided as his lips continued to lick and suckle at you, with his fingers even joining in to open your lips up for better access for his tongue. The wet noises were too explicit for you to process, but they only added to your sensitivity. Minghao ignored any whines for him to stop, taking note of how your words contradicted your actions. — your hands kept pushing his head back in while you whined 'it's too much!' at him — Your body clearly wanted more, and Minghao seemed too pleased to provide.

"Cum again," he rasped, "Wet my face and cum," he practically demanded, "You're so beautiful when you cum."

His hips would occasionally cant against the mattress, which made your eyes roll back any time you felt it. It wasn't a conscious nor active action, seemingly only happening every so often when he was too distracted to hold back. It made your stomach cave in, only able to picture how those same hips would likely be hammering into you in just a few moments.

With only a few more seconds of exploring your cunt with his tongue, Minghao happily claimed your second orgasm, licking into you throughout the entirety of your high as he had done the previous time. This time, however, you pulled him away, silently encouraging him to make his way back to your lips and trapping him in a wet kiss.

He practically fed you your own juices, murmuring praise into your mouth as his hips began grinding into your sensitive cunt.

"You were so good for me, sweetheart."

"Tasted so good for me, fuck, taste just as beautiful as you look."

"Yeah? Too sensitive, baby? 'm sorry, angel. Couldn't help myself."

"Do you feel that? I'm- I'm gonna fuck you with that. Is that okay, beautiful? Hmm? You want it, huh?"

He took advantage of every whine and cry of his name that came after each statement, sucking into your tongue any time your mouth would open for him. His hips took no rest either, grinding directly against your swollen cunt as the zipper pressed up against you in such a painful yet pleasurable way.

Pulling away with a low chuckle at your whines in complaint, he threw off his pants and boxers, smiling down at the thirsty look in your eye upon seeing him.

"Want it, pretty?", he coo'd, bringing your hand up to his cheek and turning his face to kiss the back of your palm lovingly, "I'll give it to you, beautiful. Don't even have to do anything, just stay right there, okay, angel?", he said as he reached back to his pants, taking out a condom and wasting no time in putting it on.

He teased you no further, likely very sensitive himself after granting you two orgasms and dry humping you against his better judgment. You made him lose control, and you enjoyed it greatly despite being such a mess under him at that moment.

Entering you, he kissed you, swallowing your gasp of pleasure. He gave you a few moments before silently asking for permission to move, humping into you the moment you nodded in agreement.

As per usual, his gallantry showed once more as his hands found your own and intertwined above your head. His hips moved expertly yet at a pace that could only be described as sensual. The only time his hands left you was to remove your bra, but immediately went back to holding your hands while his lips found their way to your nipples, calling you every synonym of beautiful as he made love to you.

"Like you so much, beautiful," he breathed, his lips finding your own again, "Want to keep you all to myself. Can I? Wanna take you back home and- fuck, and introduce you to my parents," he rambled breathlessly as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer, "Wanna give you a ring and a house ... Make you a mom," he groaned at the mere mention, "Is it too soon? Just ... Like you so fucking much."

You wanted to reciprocate so badly, but your mouth would not emit any noise that wasn't an incoherent whine of his name. You opted for nodding enthusiastically, dragging your nails down his back as your orgasm approached.

Like the perfect man he was, he knew when to bring his fingers to your clit, causing your back to arch against him and rob you of the last bit of your voice that remained. You cried his name as your high arrived, gasping hiccups of pleasure that drew him into his own orgasm. Confessions of care and affection for one another were had, though no proclamations of love were made. That would come later, you were sure. Your shared words were enough for you to know the feeling was there.

He gave no time for you to move as he slipped out, throwing away his condom and tucking you next to him as he nuzzled against you whilst attempting to regain his breath. Kissed were laid against any bit of skin available to him, hands pressing you up against him.

"I'll clean you up and let you go pee in a second, just let me keep you for five minutes," he sighed with contentment.

"No complaint from me," you responded, equally in need of his affection, "We still have to talk about what you said, though," you giggled, earning a loving bite from him.

"I meant it," he mumbled, "I know it's soon, but I also know how much I like you. And I know you like me just as much," he said with certainty.

"You'll have to wait til at least the third date for further discussion about impregnating me," you joked, "But I'm not against it," you whispered the last part, earning a squeeze from him as he chuckled along with you.

"Go pee," he said when he finally separated from you, "I'll keep the bed warm for you and then I can finally give you that meal I made you."

Reluctantly, you got up, looking back at him from the bathroom door as he smiled with unfiltered happiness in his eyes.

You practically squealed with giddiness as soon as you closed the door, far too happy with today's events. Unbeknownst to you, Minghao had a similar reaction on the other side of that door.

to read short 2.3k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: newbf!minghao, idol!au, hao is down bad horribly, teasing from his members, afab reader, smut, body worship, very soft!!, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 755 (teaser); 2304 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"So, how long did you guys plan this?", you asked as you mindlessly toyed with Minghao's hair, his attention likely in another dimension.

"Since the first time you guys met," responded Mingyu nonchalantly, continuing to press at the buttons of his controller and paying you almost no mind. Similarly, his gaming partners Dokyeom and Wonwoo had their focus at least 90% on the screen rather than on the conversation.

"What, so years ago? We've only really known each other for like five months," you questioned, not believing your relationship with Minghao had truly been orchestrated by the three dummies sitting one couch away from you.

"Six months and two weeks," corrected Minghao lazily, humming at your fingers running through his hair.

"He knows the exact date? God, he's whipped. Kyeom was right about setting you guys up," commented Mingyu with a chuckle.

The conversation felt entirely one-sided, though you knew your friends had developed a finessed skill at gaming whilst still giving you just enough of their attention for a conversation.

Currently, you were the main character of the conversation at hand, seeing as Seokmin had let it slip that he and the rest of your friends had designed a plan play Cupid and form a relationship between you and Minghao. You believed them to be too disorganized and impatient for such a thing, but decided to question them regardless — for entertainment if for any reason.

"Oh, so now it was Seokmin's idea?", you asked with amusement, shuffling to the side of the couch when you sensed Minghao getting up from lying on your lap. Without much effort you morphed into another comfortable position, this time with your legs on top of Minghao's as he cuddled into you, face buried in your neck to nuzzle into your skin.

Your friends had gotten used to your couple-y disposition quite quickly, only gagging at the sight occasionally but never truly bothered by it.

"Yes, ma'am," responded Seokmin in a jokingly formal manner.

"How did this come about?", you continued with the questions while Minghao continued to remain completely disengaged in the conversation, his only interest being the quiet and occasional pecks he could land against your skin.

"Well, it was obvious he liked you from the first time we brought you back to the dorms," started Seokmin, having given up on beating his friends at the game and instead leaning back against the couch to converse with you as he watched the match play in front of him, "He was a little more shy back then, so he never said anything, not even to us," he continued up until you interrupted him.

"Wait, back when?", your surprise went unnoticed by Seokmin, but not by Minghao who subconsciously tightened his arms around you, now actively listening to the conversation.

"2016? Maybe 2017?," Kyeom wondered out loud, turning to Mingyu for confirmation and receiving a hum and a nod from both him and Wonwoo, "Yeah, late 2016, I think. Anyways," he continued, "We never said anything, but we all knew. We'd always try to get you guys in the same place, but he never budged. It wasn't til a few months ago when we mentioned you might be dating someone that Minghao decided to—"

The commotion from your side of the room prevented Seokmin from continuing, followed by the landing of a pillow to his face, resulting in a whine from the boy. Unexpectedly, Minghao had gotten up, pulling you up with him and accidentally causing a remote to fall in the process.

"Seokmin, shut up!", he demanded, a shade of red you'd never seen on him invading his ears while he attempted to avoid your widened eyes.

Three sets of eyes were set on you now, with some being amused while others confused. The game was mostly forgotten as they all stared at the usually quiet and put together Minghao make a commotion as he attempted to leave.

"We have to go, come on, babe," he urged, dragging you away from the room.

"But I wanna hear the end of the story," you let out as he pulled at your arm, not truly dragging you away but still struggling to convince you to leave. Giggling, you waved your friends bye as you finally allowed him to finally lead you out of the room, giving the guys a death stare to express his displeasure with them. It wasn't genuine anger, you could tell, but it was still amusing to see him embarrassed at his years-long crush being aired out.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[artemis32]

Locksley

yandere Batfam x reader

yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months

also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested

word count - 4.8k

mbe masterlist

You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons. 

Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others. 

The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.

You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.

****

You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.

It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice. 

You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.

Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.

No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves. 

In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Now, years later, the sentiment had faded. 

You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor. 

Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.

That was your job, your purpose in life.

It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.

Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves. 

So you did.

And you never got caught. Not once. 

Until you did.

****

This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.

As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.

The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them. 

You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you. 

Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.

Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.

It made you sick.

How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.

At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.

You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.

The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued. 

Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you. 

At least it was nice to look at.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.

It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life. 

But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.

The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.

And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.

You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow. 

Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:

Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.

Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty. 

It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.

And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.

****

The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.

Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.

You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.

The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready. 

Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.

Rich people were fucking dumb.

They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.

People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.

You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.

Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.

Someone’s here.

You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.

Fuck.

It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.

If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed. 

You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.

Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.

When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.

The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?

One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.

Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.

As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking. 

And he turned to look right at you.

You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.

Fuck.

He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago. 

There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.

After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.

Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.

****

“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.” 

It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.

So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.

“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”

He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.

“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”

If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.

“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”

The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.

Your blood runs cold.

Robin.

You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.

“Don’t move.”

For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.

“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list. 

They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-

“How?”

Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”

You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.

“How did you find me?”

If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.

“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”

He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth. 

“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”

Your blood chills in your veins.

So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.

“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”

At that moment, you weigh your options. 

If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.

Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you… 

No. You couldn’t go with him. 

Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.

With your mind made up, everything else is easy.

You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.

Too slow. Faster. Move faster.

You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell. 

He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.

Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.

It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.

Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.

In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study. 

Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over. 

So no, you didn’t regret your decision.

This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.

****

“Who is she?”

“Her name is-”

“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”

Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.

“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”

Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Her address. What is it?”

Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”

He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.

“It does matter. She stole from us. She–” 

The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.

“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”

His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.

“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”

Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.

“Yes, Father. Of course.”

****

A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.

“Don’t.”

He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.

“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.

“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could. 

You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering. 

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.

You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.

“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”

Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–

Towards you.

“She’s awake.”

That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring. 

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”

With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.

Bruce Wayne.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

…I’m so dead.

You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.

“Mr Wayne, I–” 

He holds up a palm, silencing you.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”

He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.

“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”

Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.

“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”

A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment. 

“Why is he so upset?” 

You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.

“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?

He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”

Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.

“If he’s Robin, then…?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.

“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”

A choked noise dies out in your chest. 

Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?

His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.

You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why are you telling me all this?” 

He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”

Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.

[lokischocolatefountain]

well if you are taking requests, itd be great to see more touch starved joel, joel who is so afraid of hurting you in bed but bruises you anyways, joel who flinches when you yocuh him after nightmares but then comes closer when you pull away.

I love this request 🥺🥺 You are very right and Joel Miller is a touch starved man and deserves to be fed. So, here you go

Our Normal

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: Mature (Mention of violence, sexual situations)

A/N: I loved writing this and I hope the anon who requested it has fun reading it 💜 Also, I have a Javi request that was sent before this but the man was being so uncooperative so I had to ditch him for Joel for a while.

Joel was never a physically affectionate man. His love is shown through acts of service for the people he loves, through protecting them from everything in the universe. That changes when he becomes a father in his early twenties. Sarah is just so little and so fragile and he needs to hold his baby girl because if he doesn’t, he might just explode. He gives her hugs and kisses and cuddles. She always gets kisses on the forehead and cheeks when he tucks her in.

When he loses Sarah, his world is effectively over and touch is no longer about affection. People don’t yet know how the infection spreads, so they keep from touching each other. Someone approaching you might be infected. If they touch you, it might be over. Touch is no longer a hug from his daughter or a pat on the back from his brother. It is deceiving a young man with a fake injury and begging him for supplies before putting his hands around his neck and strangling him to steal his car. It is a punch to his face, a kick to his stomach and an arm putting him in a chokehold.

With Tess, it is different. It is a squeeze to his shoulder when he wakes up from yet another nightmare of his child, still a toddler, asking him why he let her die. It is a quick fuck on the ground in the woods to relieve some tension. It is her slipping into bed with him and holding him because they have both agreed they need this without any words being exchanged. It is more than anything he has ever had with other women in his life. But it is never spoken of, it never means anything more, it just is.

He is in Jackson and life has become normal yet he cannot adjust to it. After two decades of leading a life that is anything but normal, the comfort of three meals a day, a roof over his head and certainty that he’ll wake up the next morning is frightening. He knows he will never adjust. Everyone else seems happy living this normal life, but it is something he will never accept. People hug and kiss and marry. Tommy holds his newborn in his arms and kisses his wife’s hand like it’s normal, like the last twenty years didn’t happen. He wants it too. It shames him to want, but oh how he wants to touch you, to hold your hand and cup your cheek and graze your finger when you hand him something. But he cannot give in. If he allows himself to slip into such comforts, he will not survive when it is taken away from him again. If he accepts it as normal, it will mean that he will have moved on from the loss. The loss of Sarah, of his…Tess.

He touches you once. It is a necessity. It is during patrol and you were about to step on a trap someone left to catch animals. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you back, but he keeps his hands on you for longer than necessary. You thank him a little dramatically for “saving my life” and he smiles. For the first time in a long time, it isn’t because of something Ellie said. He lets you go, grunts and walks along on the patrol route. His hand is twitching nervously by his side because holy shit he just touched you. When he lies awake that night, he recalls the roughness of your skin, thinks about whether it used to be soft before all this. Whether he would’ve liked your skin soft just as much he likes your now rough skin.

Someone in town in teaching pottery to pass on important skills so that nothing dies when one person dies. Ellie forces him to go with her even when he tells her he doesn’t give a shit about making goddamn pots. He stops complaining when he sees you’re also there to learn, even though you are more advanced than he is. Pottery doesn’t come to him naturally and Ellie laughs at him for spinning his wheel too fast and touching the clay too hard, making the thing collapse on itself. You laugh too, but then you help him. You place your hands on his and show him how to mold the clay. You show him how to trim the edges with the fancy tools. You place your creating next to his and Ellie’s in the kiln and shake his hand to congratulate him on his shitty bowl that would’ve been shittier if you hadn’t helped. He wonders what it would be like to slot his fingers in the space between your fingers.

It goes from joint patrols to joint pottery classes to joint drinks at the Tipsy Bison. You touch his arm, you place your hand on his, you brush your shoulder against his and it takes him a longass time while to realize you are flirting. He hadn’t been the subject of it ever since he became a single father wearing T-shirts covered in snot, baby food, mysterious sticky substances from Sarah using his shirt as tissues, Sarah’s blood— He panics, he flinches when you touch him. He apologizes, mumbles something about Ellie needing dinner and storms out of the place. He forgets to pay for his fucking drink and learns you decided to pay for him with more coffee than you’d planned on exchanging with the bartender.

He apologizes the next day, offers his private stash of old whiskey he found somewhere to make up for the coffee you’d lost because of him. But you surprise him, offering not just reassurance that it was alright but offering your understanding, telling him you were sorry for whatever you did to unintentionally trigger him and that if he told you what it was, you would never do it again.

You have your fair share of terrible days. You find him after patrol and ask to exchange your music cassette for some of his liquor. He gives it to you for free and you down half the bottle. You tell him you are afraid of being alone that night and he doesn’t have to ask questions to know that it’s something serious. He lets you stay. He holds you in him arms even though having contact without another person kills him. He realizes it kills him because he likes it and knows he doesn’t deserve things he likes. Not when his baby has become nothing in an unmarked grave he should’ve joined her in.

He never intends to have sex with you. It is no longer as much of a need as it used to be. He is older and his body has been through too much. Sex isn’t the need. You are. Holding your hand in his trembling hand isn’t enough. Touching your cheek when he kisses you isn’t enough. His hand on your lower back. Your hand in his hair, your head on his chest as you hugged— it wasn’t enough. No matter how much you gave, he wanted more. More and more and more.

You invite him to your bed and he goes. He knows he shouldn’t. He doesn’t deserve whatever you’ve given him so far and definitely doesn’t deserve what you were going to give him next. He is afraid but he wants it so bad, wants you so bad. You are sweet, gentle, like you know he has a strange relationship with touch. You take your time when you get on your knees and nuzzle into his thighs and wrap your pretty lips around his cock. He tries to keep his hands away. He knows he should because if he got to touch you when you had his cock in your mouth, he would wrap your hair in his fist and fuck into your mouth, use you for gratification.

He digs into your thighs with his nails when he has them spread apart and his head between them, his lips devouring you like you were his favorite taste before the luxury of tasty things ceased to exist, like he was getting to experience his favorite taste after two decades of deprivation. He holds you in a death grip, leaves behind bruises and apologizes for them when he realizes what he has done. He tends to you, apologizes repeatedly, is gentler the next time.

He doesn’t sleep next to you. If he manages to fall asleep, he wakes up wishing he didn’t. Sleep without nightmares is a rarity. He could jolt up from bed or lie looking peaceful while his brain tortured itself with memories, both real and false. He doesn’t want you to see him in his most vulnerable moments. He doesn’t want to burden anyone with his anguish. He doesn’t want to look weak. He is supposed to be strong, be the protector, be the capable man you can rely on.

He wakes up after yet another nightmare and lies in bed, unprepared to face you as the weaker man he believes himself to be. You make him coffee and bring it to bed. You drink it with him. You hold his hand. He flinches, the effects of his nightmare persisting. So you pull away, allowing him his space when he pulls you back in. He doesn’t know what he wants, doesn’t know if it is right to want you like this— being there for him, comforting him, giving him a shoulder to lean on. He shouldn’t, but he leans anyway. You don’t ask him to talk about it and he appreciates it. You don’t need to know the gory details to know he’s hurting. You don’t need to hear the turmoil in his head to hold him to your chest and let him cry.

Maybe not talking wouldn’t be enough in the normal world. But that is a world they will never have again even if the cordyceps ceased to exist at once. So he adapts in love like he adapted to holding a gun in hands that held hammers and nails with nails painted by his little girl.

He grows used to it, but he still flinches sometimes. You flinch sometimes too. You learn each other’s boundaries, apologize when they’re crossed. Sleep still eludes him and he remains starved of touch, but he satiates himself as little as he could without overwhelming himself. His hands sometimes tremble when he touches you. He could never fall asleep in the same bed as you. It isn’t normal, but it is the normal he has with you and you are both content in it.

.

.

.

My Masterlist

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 2

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Word Count: 4,284

Warnings: Fluffy Sy, Abused animal, domestic violence, stalker ex-boyfriend, mention of nightmares/PTSD, smut in future chapters.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 1

I brought Mills with me to work and set him up in the shade while I completed the outdoor shed build. After the first few hours at home last night, he fully relaxed and I saw his personality come out which made me proud. He followed me all over the house this morning and since he hadn’t had any accidents inside I figured I wouldn’t push my luck and brought him with me. I also didn’t want him bothering Aika since she’s elderly and probably wants to sleep all day without being bothered. Mills really seemed to enjoy the car ride, especially when I rolled the window down half way for him to stick his head out.

I could barely concentrate on a damn thing at work all day, my thoughts radiating pure excitement about what was to come. Hopefully we both would be coming tonight, but if not I’m happy to take things as slow as she wants. I find myself wondering all about her and genuinely can’t wait to get to know her better. I’m shocked as hell she even agreed to come to my place tonight after meeting me all sweaty and nasty from work. The hours literally crawled and I was gonna punch Alex if he made one more comment about how “giddy” I looked. I pride myself on being able to stay stone faced as a military captain but Alex has known me our whole lives so he can read me a little better than most. I had let the steaks marinate in the fridge all day and was planning on cutting out at about 4:30 so I could grab her some flowers, get home and clean myself up before I started cooking. One of the best things about spending summers with my grandparents as a kid was that Nana taught me the basics of cooking. I would spend all day out on the ranch with PawPaw, and then he’d send me inside to help Nana shuck corn, snap peas, or whatever else she needed me to do. As a kid, I was more than happy to get a break from mucking horse stalls or repairing fences after being out in the heat all day, so I enjoyed coming back to the house and listening to the radio with Nana. I couldn’t cook anything super fancy but felt confident enough in creating a handful of meals so I could keep myself fed without constantly relying on takeout.

The doorbell rang as I was taking the dinner rolls out of the oven and Mills jumped up and ran to my feet after Aika grunted with disdain at the interruption of her nap. I knew it would take a bit before Mills got used to loud noises and new people. I took a deep breath and adjusted his new red collar with a bow tie included around his neck and headed to open the door. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the beauty in front of me. Emma was standing at the door wearing sandals and a stunning light blue sundress that matched her eyes while holding a cake tray and a pitcher of homemade sweet tea. Her long silky hair was in loose curls that cascaded around her breasts and her bright smile had my heart pounding in my chest. I let out a soft whistle through my teeth as I widened the door.

“Hey Sy.” She uttered with a nervous tremble.

“Damn darlin’, you look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She said with a blush tint to her cheeks.

“Let me take those for you.” I reached for the items in her hand.

“Thank you. I made some sweet tea and thought you might like some and a pound cake for dessert.”

“Two of my favorite things. Three if you count yourself.” I said with a smirk and she playfully rolled her eyes as she followed me inside and shut the door for me.

“Your house is absolutely beautiful, Austin.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Look at you, handsome! Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” She said in her baby voice while crouching to Mills who was dancing around her feet much to my surprise. I figured he’d still be weary but he must have he remembered her. Or he just knew that she was a good person. Mama always said to trust a dog’s instinct about people.

“Why thank you.” I said jokingly as I walked into the kitchen from the foyer.

“I was talking to this handsome fella, but you look cute too.” She followed me and smirked as she eyed me up and down in my tight “nice” grey t-shirt and jeans.

“Nothing compares to you, sweetheart.”

“You are so corny.” She says with a giggle and I can’t help but laugh too.

“Does that bother you?”

“No, it’s endearing.” She responds. “He looks like he feels much better and his bandages are fresh. Good job. Oh, this must be Aika.” She says while holding her hand out for Aika to sniff who slowly makes her way over to her. Since being out of the military and with her old age she feels comfortable and safe in our house and very rarely growls like she used to with new people. I think she feeds off of me and knows that if I’m not anxious, she can relax. Aika shoves her head into Emma’s hand who quickly begins to scratch her neck and ears while cooing at her. Aika immediately drops and rolls over for belly rubs and I’m genuinely shocked. She only acts like this with me and my grandparents. She has never shown her belly to a stranger before.

“Well I’ll be damned.” I mutter and Emma looks at me inquisitively while perched on her knees scratching all over Aika’s belly.

“She’s a former unofficial military dog. I found her in Afghanistan and trained her while I was stationed there. She has never shown her belly for scratches to anyone other than me and my grandparents.” I explain. She smiles brightly.

“Such a good girl! I’m honored. Maybe others just don’t have the right nails for good scratches.” She says while playfully showing me her manicured hands. Think about those little hands around your cock. Damn my intrusive thoughts.

“Don’t go stealing my dog with belly scratches now. I might have to start requesting belly scratches of my own if you keep that up. She’s drooling on the floor.” I chuckle as I point to Aika who seems to be on cloud nine as her tail wags slowly and her leg begins to kick from the pleasurable sensation.

“We’ll see about your own belly scratches if you’re a good boy.” She whispers and I feel the blood shoot right to my cock. FUCK. I’ve gotta think of something else.

“I know traditionally I’m supposed to show up at your doorstep with flowers, and I couldn’t really do that with dinner at my place but I got you some anyway.” I said as I handed her the sunflowers in a thin vase.

“They’re stunning. One of my favorite flowers! Thank you.” She quickly pressed a kiss to my cheek and I swear I felt like a nervous kid again.

“What are your favorites?” I ask so I’ll know for next time.

“Well, peonies are my favorite but they can be hard to find. Hydrangeas and sunflowers are my other favorites.” Hmm. I’ll need to look for a place that sells peonies.

 “So, what’s for supper?” Y/N asks and pulls me from my thoughts.

“Salad, steak, potato wedges, green beans and a roll.” I point to each dish while scratching my neck a bit nervously. God, I hope she likes it.

            “Mmmmm. That sounds delicious. Anything I can do to help?” The sound of her moan is burned into my brain for me to replay later.

            “Why don’t you pour us some of that tea you brought while I plate the food.” I suggest and watch her turn and get started.

            “How was work today?” I ask as I set her plate down in front of her.

            “It was pretty good! Slower than yesterday. Someone brought in a cat that they had found hit on the side of the road and unfortunately it had already passed away which sucks. I tried everything but he was just too far gone.”

“Damn, I hate that. Didja find the owner?”

“No. It looked like a stray. No microchip or collar and wasn’t neutered. I just will never understand why people don’t get their animals fixed.”

“Neither will I. I hate to say it Mills, but enjoy your nuts while they last because as soon as your cleared for surgery we are getting those snipped. No baby mama drama for you. Sorry pal.” I say with a chuckle while looking at my new buddy with a nervous grin.

Emma giggles brightly at the face I made at him. “So, how was your day? I don’t think I even asked what you do for work.”

            “I own my business, Syverson Contracting. That’s why I was so sweaty and gross when I brought Mills in yesterday. We’ve been working on remodeling a house and I was building a garden shed for the owners when I found him. I finished it up today but we’ve got a little more work to do inside the house.”

            “Wow! I saw the sign for your company but didn’t put two and two together. That’s incredible. I can’t imagine how cranky I would be if I was out in this heat all day every day.”

            “Eh, I’m used to it. This has nothing on the desert, although the humidity is a bitch. I don’t mind it too much. I like building things and working with my hands. Plus, the projects change enough that I don’t get bored which is nice.”

            “I’m sure it’s rewarding to take something old and broken and essentially make it new.”

            “Definitely. That’s the best part. I uh, I started here with this house. When I left the military, I loved the land but the house was falling apart. Figured I had nothing better to do so I’d do it myself and learn as I go. The plumbing was all busted and the roof had a ton of leaks. I essentially ripped it down to studs and rebuilt it.”

            “Wait, I didn’t realize that! So, when I said it was stunning, it’s all because of you.” I smile at her astonishment.

            “You flatter me. I appreciate it. Rebuildin' this house is what made me decide to start my company. I have zero interior design skills though so I know I need to change furniture and maybe get some art or something on the walls but I’m honestly clueless about all of that. Need me to build a bathroom or repair drywall, I’m your man though.” I chuckled.

“Well, I thought about doing interior design for a bit in college, but ultimately the animals won my heart. If you ever want help, I’d be happy to try.” Damn, she’s perfect.

“Darlin, you’re going to make me fall in love with you if you keep talking like that.” I wink at her.

“So corny.” She shakes her head and giggles and I just can’t help but laugh with her. I could listen to that sound over and over again.

We continue to talk throughout the meal where she asks me how I learned to cook and I explain all about my grandparents who own the farm near the country store off of county road 55. She tells me all about Alabama, how she went to the university on a cheerleading scholarship and I have to keep myself in check before my mind starts wondering if she’s still flexible. We talk just a bit about the military, finding Aika, and I can’t help but notice her squirm a bit when she finds out that I was the Captain for the special forces. After we finish eating, she stands up and cuts up the pound cake that she made from scratch. I groan as I take a bite of the dessert and she bites her lip as she watches me.

            “Where do you think you’re going, darlin’?” I ask with cake still in my mouth as she gets up carrying our empty dinner plates and walks to the sink.

            “You cooked, I’ll clean. It’s only fair.”

            “No ma’am. You’re a guest. Put those down!” I say as I swallow my bite.

            “No way, Jose.” She crosses her arms and cocks her hip out. “If you want me to leave the rest of that cake here with you, you’ll sit down and let me clean the dishes.” I grunt at her. Sassy little thing.

            “I’ll let you load the dishwasher. Fair?”

            “Fair, but I’m still handwashing these two pans.” Emma says as she sticks her tongue out at me and begins washing the pans.

            “Woman, you are something else.” I smirk at her and ogle her body in that dress while she has her back turned towards me.

            “Where’d you learn to bake like this?” I ask her pointing towards the cake as she dries of the pans with a dishtowel.

            “My best friend and college roommate’s grandmother. She lived about an hour from our apartment and she would come visit about two times a month and stock our fridge with all sorts of things. She knew that pound cake was my favorite so she gave me the recipe even though it was only given to women in their family. She’s essentially my Nana too now. She has given me lots of recipes but that’s my favorite. I enjoy baking, it feels like less of a chore than regular cooking.” She says with a smile.

            I lead her to the living room and offer her a beer which she accepts and we spend the next hour talking about our lives. She tells me a bit about her family, which consists of just her mom and dad. They still live in Alabama and she’d like them to move out this way but they're resistant to leave the comfort of familiarity. She was extremely close with her grandparents but they have all passed on as well. I explain how my dad took off when I was two and remarried and my mother raised me until she passed after battling breast cancer when I was a teenager. I told her about my older brother Mark who lives in Tennessee with his pregnant wife, Jenn, and my two-year-old niece, Lucy.

            “So, you’re telling me you left everything and everyone you know back in Alabama just because you got the vet job here in our little town? I find that a bit hard to believe darlin’.”

            “What’s so hard to believe? Maybe I just needed a change.”

            “You sure you’re not running from something? Or someone?”

            “Damn you for being so intuitive. I thought military men were just supposed to follow orders blindly and not think?” She deflects with a giggle and I know from her tone she’s just playing with me.

            “You couldn’t be more wrong about that, sweetheart. Remember I’m a Captain. My whole job relied on me reading situations and people. I ain’t gonna to push you to tell me if you don’t want to, though.”

            “It’s no big deal. Essentially, my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me. I caught him and learned it had been going on for several months before I found out. His name wasn’t on our apartment lease since he had moved in with me so I kicked him out and he wasn't happy about it. I had to get a restraining order when he showed up and broke in through the window after I had the locks changed. It was quite the talk of the town since his mistress is the assistant principal for the local elementary school. Ultimately, I just got tired of hearing the whispers and gossip while also feeling like I needed to watch my back. I needed a change of pace anyway so, here I am.”

“That fucker.” I muttered while shaking my head.

“Yup. Not the first time I’ve been cheated on either so I guess you could say that I don’t have the best track record with men.” She shrugged.

“I’m sorry he treated you that way. He fucked up and then had the audacity to break into your home? God, I hate dipshits like that.”

“I always felt super safe in that town before and now it just feels… tainted? I guess? Turns out, a little piece of paper doesn’t keep people away. In his case, it just pissed him off more. His uncle is on the police force there so he felt like he was untouchable.”

“He showed up again after the restraining order?” She nodded while looking at her hands.

“Did he… Damnit Emma I said I wasn’t going to ask and I certainly don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but did he touch you? Hurt you?”

“It’s in the past, Austin. I’m here and I’m safe now. No use dwelling on it. It could have been worse. I was lucky, honestly.”

“What do you mean you were lucky?” She sighed and fiddled with her fingers.

“He showed up after being served the restraining order when I was coming home from work and slapped me around a bit.. I tried to defend myself, and I did for the most part. Ultimately, he busted my lip, and shoved me into a wall outside of my apartment. My neighbor happened to be home, heard the screaming and called the cops. I didn’t have to go to the hospital or anything so I got lucky. Just wounded my ego a bit.” She shrugged like she was fine but I could tell she was still afraid.

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s not lucky. You still got hurt. Come’re. Can I hug you?” She nodded and I pulled her to my lap and hugged her tightly.

“You are safe here. If you ever feel scared or anything, please tell me. I want to protect you.” She’s tense as I hold her and I hear her sigh.

“I’m not some damsel in distress, Austin. I’m fine. You don’t have to concern yourself with it. I left my problems in Alabama. I don't want to be the girl that everyone pities anymore.”

“I don’t have to do anything and you aren't someone I pity. I admire your strength and I want to concern myself with you. I really like you Emma. Like I can’t get you off of my mind. I ain’t trying to come on too strong and I know we just met but I want to get to know you in every way. The thought of you being scared to just go about your life makes me sick.”

Emma relaxed in my arms and buried her head in my neck as she tightened her arms around me. “I want that too. I mean, um, I like you too and want to get to know you better.”

“S'alright if I kiss you?” I normally wouldn’t ask but I don’t want her to startle her or make her uncomfortable.

She nods.

“Words sweetheart.”

“Kiss me.”

The words barely left her lips before I pressed mine against hers as my hand caressed her jaw. I felt her tongue swipe against my bottom lip asking for entry and I quickly granted it where she deepened the kiss. I groaned as her tongue stroked my own and I tasted her mouth. We kissed until we were both breathless and she pulled back before pressing her forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you apologize fer’a thing. You’re in control here, not me. This only goes as far as you want it to and believe me, I am more than happy just to sit here with you. Just looking at you and talking to you is all I need. I just want you to know that. I won’t pressure you now or ever.” I told her while looking into her eyes and she smiled.

“You’re too good to be true.” She whispered.

“Nah darlin’, I’m just decent person who values women and know that you don’t owe me a thing. I’m just enjoying being in your presence. That’s all I need from you. You decide the pace.”

She nods at me with a smile.

“I’m sorry that you’ve not been treated right before but I’m happy for the chance to do so.” I tell her while tucking her hair behind her ear. Emma leans down and kisses me again. We sit on the couch with Emma in my lap making out for a little while longer before Mills whines at the door to go outside. 

            “That is my que to get up and let you get back to your night.” Emma said quietly and I want to protest but she interrupts me. “I’ve got to be at work early in the morning anyway.” She stiffly climbs from my lap and I flush as I can’t exactly hide my raging boner but I quickly try and adjust myself so it’s not as noticeable.

            “I sure wish you didn’t have to go. I really enjoyed tonight. Feelin' like I’ve barely scratched the surface at all the things I want to know about you.”

            “Me too.” She shyly pecks my lips after I open the door and both of the dogs bound outside. I motion for her to step outside the back with me so I can keep an eye on Mills and I wrap my arm around her shoulder.

            “It might be clingy as fuck to ask this, but I’m a grown man who is not interested in playing games. Can I see you again tomorrow darlin’? Unless you’ve got plans of course.” Emma curls against me and rests her head against my chest.

            “Seeing as I only know like four people in this town, including you, I’ll have to see if I can pencil you in.” She smarts and I tickle her ribs.

            “Little smartass.” I chuckle and she giggles back.

            “What did you have in mind?” She asks.

            “Dinner at the Italian restaurant in town?”

            “Gia’s? It’s the best food I’ve had since I moved here. The owners must pity me after seeing how many times I’ve called for takeout from there just this month.”

            “We can get something else if you’re tired of” Emma interrupts me.

            “No! it’s so good! I’ve only ordered take out so I wouldn’t be the pitiful newbie that eats alone. I would love to go there with you, Austin.”

            “It’s a date. Text me your address. What time ya want me to pick ya up?”

            “5:30 still okay?”

            “That’s perfect, angel.”

            I whistle through my teeth for the dogs to come back in and Emma chuckles when Mills sees Aika coming straight back to me and clumsily attempts to follow her. We pet the dogs for a minute before Emma puts her shoes back on and grabs her purse. I grab her waist and gently press her up against the front door.

            “Now, I’m gonna walk you to your car here in a second but I needed one more of these before we are in public.” I bend down to kiss her passionately as she wraps her arms around my neck. I gently pin her with my hips against the door as her nails lightly scrape across the back of my head and I grunt. After a few more seconds of kissing her, I slowly pull back.

            “That may just be my new favorite thing, sugar.”

            “You call me that and I immediately think of Mrs. Clayton’s yorkie.” She giggles.

            “Nah, you’re much sweeter than that little yappy shit.” I say with a grin as I run my thumb across her cheekbone before pecking her lips again.

I carry the vase of sunflowers when I walk her out to her car and am surprised that it’s a nice almost new black jeep wrangler. I was too consumed with looking at her when she arrived to notice. She observes me looking at the SUV and smiles.

            “Like it?”

            “I thought veterinarian’s drove Audis and Mercedes.” I say and she rolls her eyes.

“Not this veterinarian. I love my Jeep. Driving around with my top off and the music blaring is a form of therapy for me.”

“I’m sorry, I think I had a stroke when you said “my top off” and didn’t hear anything else.” I joke.

She quickly pushes my arm. “You would only focus on that, pervert!” She giggles. I clutch my chest pretending to be hurt.

“Ouch, darlin’. You’re wounding me with the name calling.”

“You’ll survive.” She retorts with a wink.

“Let me know that you get home safely?” I ask and she nods before standing on her tiptoes to place one more chaste kiss to my lips before climbing in her jeep. Damn, I love seeing a little woman driving a big SUV and I can’t explain why. Just does something to me. Maybe it’s a size kink foreshadowing how much I’d like to see her little petite frame against my much larger one.

“See you tomorrow, Austin.”

“Looking forward to it, sugar.”

I walk back inside my house and for the first time since I renovated it, the house seems empty, like it’s missing something vital. Her. It’s missing her and the brightness I felt while she was here. Fuck, one date and she has me wrapped around her finger. She’s got me envisioning a future that I never thought I’d get to have.

Part 3

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @henryownsme @caramariehurst @beck07990 @mollymal @kingliam2019 @syversonswife @identity2212 @starfirewildheart @hannah9921 @wa-ni @kneelforloki @cutedoxie

[taxidermycanine]

5 VIDEO GAMES FOR THERIANS.

i'm going to try to be as inclusive as possible like my last thread :0) enjoy!!

1 •

for my other wolf therians (or canine therians in general) out there — wolfquest !! live the life you were meant to live in this realistic wolf simulator. find a mate, hunt, raise pups, and defend what's yours!! this game is $20 on steam and itchio, it comes with the OG game too if you ever want to play the older version :03

you can play with up to 8 friends on multiplayer, there's a saga in the works (the completed version of the game), DLCs for those with extra cash to spare, and 88 achievements on steam for those who love collecting things!!

as someone who plays this game every day, and has been playing since i was a small child, i highly recommend this game not only from a therian perspective, but also because it's extremely fun to play!!

2 •

for any lynx therians out there, i recommend shelter 2 !! play as a mother lynx striving to keep her cubs alive and fed as you hunt prey, explore the wildlife and prepare for other animals trying to harm you and your young.

this game is incredibly pretty and, from my own experience, runs on even the shittiest computers with relative ease.

and yes, you can name both you and your babies :03

this game is $25 on steam and has a DLC for $10, it has 26 achievements and doesn't take too long to complete!!

3 •

if you're not a wild animal, but still feline, then i suggest you get the game stray !!

control an orange cat as you try to find your way back to your clowder after falling into a pit away from them. explore your environment, which can get pretty dangerous at times, so be careful!! but it isn't all bad out there, you'll meet friends, and people that love you.

story aside, this game is extremely fun to play and easy to control. i'm not a cat therian, but playing the game i felt immersed in the world, i felt like i WAS the cat. this game is $30 on steam :0)

the best part? you can meow. constantly.

i recommend a computer that can handle games with high graphics for the best results.

4 •

for any geese (or ducks) out there, you should get untitled goose game !! love mischief? even better, that's ALL you do in this game. steal things, make things hard for the townsfolk, honk and wear hats!! it's even multiplayer, double the irritability!!

this game is extremely fun and lighthearted, my favorite part is how you can collect things in it!! i love building a mountain of stolen goods and running around aimlessly as a silly little bird.

it runs well on all computers from my own experience, and you can buy it for $20 on steam!!

5 •

and last, but not least, meadow !! this game was produced by the same developers that made shelter 1 & 2 :0)

play as multiple animals in this online world, unlock different skins and new critters to play as, meet and make new friends, explore the environment around you. this game is suitable for all and one of the cheaper ones on this list at $10.

it runs easily on most software and is wonderful to play if you need some time to wind down in the evening after a stressful day due to the muted colors, calm environment and interesting style :03

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a haunting in an abandoned asylum rescuing two teenagers who ventured in, they become trapped with the spirits of those who had died in a riot decades ago, one of which was a doctor who causes extreme rage in his victims.

Warnings: Cannon violence, murder and mentions of suicide, arguing, banter, usage and mention of guns, ghosts, panicking/ anxiety, a little bit of angst

A/N: There will be a confusing part where your like who is she talking about and to that I say all in due time. Also i’m sorry it seems like i’m giving up on this (I didn’t realize I posted the last part a month ago) IM NOT i’m just super busy with school, if you’ve taken APUSH you get it—i’m fighting for my life.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes, @star-yawnznn

Word Count: 11,033

Asylum

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

I let out a big sigh, slumping in my chair as I do so, my head falling onto my laptop's keyboard, “How is your dad moving from place to place so fast”, I grumble into the keys. “Literally how!” My head shoots up as I complain, looking at Dean who sat across from me with his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at his fathers journal.

His eyes meet mine even as his head faces the book, his stare tells me everything I need to know. He’s also very frustrated, certainly more than me and he too has no answers.

I contemplate slamming my head against my keyboard when Sam walks back into their hotel room. His phone clasped tightly in his hand after he just went outside to call several people. “Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asks his approaching brother even though the answer is written on his disappointed face.

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Paster Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?” Sam shoots back, referencing people the Winchesters knew. I had heard of them too, most of them really good friends of the boys but I never actually met them.

Now it’s Dean's turn to answer and complain, “No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frickin’ Yoda.”

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.” Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“But isn’t he like, you know…wanted?” I ask, considering being a Hunter comes with breaking a lot of laws, like a lot. “That and Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail” Dean adds.

Sam’s face contorts into anger, “I don't care anymore.” Suddenly a cell phone rings from across the room, Dean's phone to be exact who immediately goes over to his bag. Sam huffs something between a sigh and a frustrated grunt, “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

“I know!” Dean yells loudly, snapping, the sound echoing off the ill painted walls. He rummages through his duffel rougher, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

“Don't say that!” He snaps again, “He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He’s not dead, your father is good at what he does. I'm sure he’s just caught up in something.” I tried to reason, turning in my chair so I could face both boys.

“Like that’s a good excuse” Sam spits back.

“Hey, I never said it was! But it certainly is a better and more optimistic view than death!” I lecture, my face scrunching up in offense.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles quietly getting our attention, “I don't believe it.” His words stopped Sam from saying anything further to me. His focus turned back on his brother, “What?” He asks.

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean answers and it’s clear who the message is from. I want to turn to Sam and say ‘Ha! told you so!’ but I hold back on the childish, but totally correct, notion. Before Sam can say anything snarky about the message Dean cuts him off, “Can I steal that?” He asks me to point to my open laptop. I nod my head quickly, “Go ahead.”

He walks back over to the table turning my laptop until it’s facing him and where he sat. “You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asks as his brother types away.

“He's given us coordinates before.” Dean answers.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“To be fair, a toaster and coordinates are pretty different. All you need is a paper map” I cut in, earning a hard glance from Sam. I could not explain why he suddenly had a problem with me other than the fact I disagreed with him, which in that case makes him just as childish as I wanted to be.

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.” Dean adds, arguing.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam pushes, still somehow convinced it isn’t his Dad which when I think about it is pretty harsh. Would he rather his dad was dead? Probably not.

Dean answers, “Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

“Well, where do the coordinates point?” Sam follows up.

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Ok, a little random, but what’s specifically so interesting about Illinois?” I ask this time.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turns my laptop around with a news article zoomed in on a black and white photo of a cop, “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asks, again I want to say something about him asking a dumb question but I hold back not wanting any more sass from him or anyone.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” He scoots my laptop back, pulling open his Dads stuffed journal that sat on the table. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorts, “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

Dean shrugs, “Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.” Sam snaps back.

“Does it matter? I mean we know it’s a hunt and we get to help people. I don’t see a loss in going.” I say, half shrugging.

“This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam argues, his head snapping from his brother to me. It’s a good point to be honest but what else is there to do? Though I do not make that question vocal.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.” Dean yells, final word. Sam makes a nasty bitchface and sighs, saying nothing more.

I lean against the cold exterior of the Impala, my arms crossed against my chest to fend off any bit of the cold night even with my layers on. I could go inside the car but standing outside, right at the front of the car, felt more productive while waiting for the boys to finish their whole “skit” for information.

Dean would go in and antagonize the partner of the cop from the article which would inevitably fail. So Sam would be waiting there telling Dean, who he pretends to not know, to (in a lack of a better word) f- off so that Sam could weasel his way into questioning.

A very complicated plan for a bunch of dummies. I sigh again, my eyes closing in the progress, I try to force the tension out of my body, all the arguing infecting my usual good mood.

I open my eyes back up only to round the car and find it locked. My head falls forward, my chin touching my chest, of course Dean would lock his precious car. I glanced around me, barely anyone lingering outside except some people up against the bar smoking or leaving to go elsewhere, no one was looking so I gingerly tapped the handle, a swirl of purple mist leaving my fingertip until it slithered its way into the car and its mechanics. With a satisfying click the little lock pokes up, I grin as I pull open the door leaning in only to rustle through my bag and pull out my book.

Dean would have to forgive me, though my little trick did nothing to harm the car to begin with. I push down the lock, jabbing into my palm as I do so, closing the door behind me I make my way to the front of the car once more leaning against it as I open up my worn book of Little Women for the hundredth time. The pages had long begun to yellow though it only went as far as a light yellow, still the crisp smell of an old book wafted into my nose, serenity finding me.

Suddenly the bar door slams open, startling me for a moment after getting lost in the prospect of an escape. Dean quickly walks over to where I was waiting looking extra grumpy, his eyebrows scrunched together with his arms thrown out, “He pushed me so hard!” He nearly yells, his choice of words were childish at worst and yet it was very amusing. “Why are you reading that again?” He asks, suddenly pointing at my book.

“‘Cause I love it” I smile simply.

“Haven’t you read that a hundred times?” he asks, moving next to me, leaning against the car too.

“Give or take” I laugh lightly, “It’s one of my many comfort books.” I mark my spot before shutting the book. “I’m guessing your silly plan worked?” I ask him as he leans closer to me. He gives me that devilish smirk, “Not silly if it worked, sweetheart.”

Some time later Sam exits the bar, “Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy” Dean spits.

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.” Sam bites back, just tension building on more tension. But there’s only so much the atmosphere or people can take before it blows up.

“Huh?”

“It’s like immersing yourself emotionally and psychologically with your character” I whisper before closing my book shut. But instead of clarity crossing over Dean's face he looks just as confused if not a little more. Sam sighs, “Never mind.”

“Okay so what’d he tell you?” I ask.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” Sam explains. Basically nothing to suggest him suddenly committing a murder suicide.

“What about at home?” Dean shoots back.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.” Sam answers, I frown at the last part there was a whole life they could have lived.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.” Dean acknowledges.

“Well did anything happen as of supper recently that would even hint to a psychotic break?” I ask even though based on what we have it didn’t seem likely.

“No” Sam shakes his head, “Not that he mentioned at least.” I nod my head making a small mental note of that possibility, although unlikely, just in case.

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” Dean questions.

“A lot.”

A loud horn blares from a nearby truck as Sam makes his way over the tall fence. With Dean slightly ahead of me I begin to climb the chain linked fence, I get a small jumping start clutching on to the cold fence. I shove my shoes into the little groves as I make my way up swiftly, being able to lift my legs high enough that I could make it to the top in about four moves. I balance myself on top of it before swinging my leg over it, I reposition myself to dangle slightly as my feet find purchase in the fence when about half way down I just decide to jump the rest of the way, landing on my feet in an almost crouched position.

The asylum itself didn’t look like it was falling apart but the overgrown bushes on the plot, the moss covering the building and the boarded up windows were a tell-tale tell sign enough that it was abandoned. The only thing keeping it from being entirely creepy was the early morning sun.

The door had no lock on it most likely from all the trespassing. But just as the door fell open an immediate musty smell hit my nose from all the trash covering the floor from beer bottles and cans to random bits of paper. Every surface of the walls was covered by either graffiti or mold, only small hints of the old green wallpaper left behind. “So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing.” Sam points to the sign hung over the door. The letters were mostly peeling, just another sign of the aging building.

“South wing, huh?” Dean breathes out, “Wait a second.” He pulls out his Dada journal from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping the pages until he found whatever he was looking for, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So the South Wing seems to be the route of this all” I remark.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean points out, looking up from the journal. Sam notes the rusted, broken chains hanging from the handle of the door, “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.” Dean comments.

I cringe, “Is it really necessary to say such ominous things?”

“What? It’s the truth” Dean shrugs and I roll my eyes.

“Are you guys done?” Sam asks looking at us impatiently

“Yeah yeah open the door” I say before quickly adding a mumble of, “I hope a rat jumps out at you”

Sam looks at me with a mix of being offended and being annoyed, “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!” I say half meaning it, “It’s an abandoned building and all so you know…rats”

“Just” Dean starts, him being the annoyed one now, “Open the door.” Sam nods, carefully opening the rusted door with a creek revealing a long creepy hallway, but at last no rats scurry out. The long hall was somehow only slightly better than the entrance with the walls peeling of its paint, most of it replaced by mold which only increases as the hallway extends, if we get sick we’ll know why that’s for sure.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean jokes, lighting the mood as he pulls out his EMF reader, referencing the movie Six Sense. “Dude, enough.” Sam groans.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.” Dean says. Without missing a beat, Sam bites back, “I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell.”

“Anything going on with your EMF?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.” Dean answers.

“Well, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.” Dean comments.

The room falls quiet for a moment before Dean speaks up again, “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam pushes his brother in response. “Oh definitely Jennifer Love Hewitt, I mean did you see her in Shortcut to Happiness ‘cause…wow” I answer before quickly adding, “No offense Sammy.” But Sam pushes me lightly too, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as I nearly knock into the moldy wall.

We enter a room that smells worse than the main entrance area, the culprit of the rotting flesh smell most likely being whatever pink goop is spilling out of a glass jar with liquid on a table in the far corner. This asylum was truly amazing at one-upping itself in terms of being horrible. The entire room is bad itself, all sorts of equipment they used on patients long ago when they had no clue what a mental illness really was or how to help people who struggled with it.

“God, they did such horrible things to these poor people” I remarked, stepping deeper into the room. The sight of a clearly used surgery table sending a shiver down my spine. Dean lets out a low whistle, “Electro-shock. Lobotomies…”

“Did you know JFK’s sister got a lobotomy done because she suffered from seizures and mood swings. But it only wound up leaving her permanently incapacitated and unable to properly speak, only goes to show how little they knew about all that stuff” I say, recalling a fact I remember reading about somewhere in an article.

“‘That one of your fun facts?” Dean inquires, clearly humoring me. I hum a “mhm” as I bend down slightly to look at a glass container filled with some sort of yellow liquid. I almost expect something equally as gross to be inside but there isn’t.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.” Sam answers, listing out examples of cases in which people claimed the devil had told them to do something bad and or possessed them. “Or Son of Sam, though that guy was just a basket case who admitted to lying about that demon bit” I add.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean quips in, always with his references. I look up from the vials of I don’t know what to see him grinning, a smile forming on my own face at his charming expression.

“Dean.” Sam calls out, gaining his brother's attention, “When are we going to talk about it?” Uneasiness slips its way into the cracks of the building, finding us. “Talk about what?” Dean asks back, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about, it was clear as day. “About the fact Dad's not here.” Sam answers, already clearly annoyed. I straightened up, moving an inch closer to where they stood in the middle of the room in case I had to break up another fight. It hadn’t been anywhere close to a week from the last time I had to do so back in Kansas. “Oh. I see.” Dean replies, “How ’bout...never.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…” Dean cuts in immediately, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.” They moved closer to each other with each word they spat, up until they got close enough that they would be able to throw a punch if they decided to. “It doesn't matter what he wants.” Sam argues.

“See. That attitude? Right there?” Dean points at him, “That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Guys come on, you can argue this later let’s just finish this hunt” I sigh, crossing my arms across my chest. Sam glares at me as if to say “stay out of this”, I get why they’re upset but all this arguing gets us nowhere and it’s beginning to get annoying. Sam turns back to his brother, “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.” Dean replies rather calmly. I don’t necessarily like John, knowing everything he put my boys through made it hard to. But he was their Dad and Dean wanted my help and so I will help find their Dad, even if I mostly agree with Sam. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam spits, and I almost hate the fact that I do agree with him.

I try to ignore their arguing, knowing they wouldn’t let up, it wasn’t the sort of argument where someone won. I open a drawer near me, cobwebs and multiple clippings from old patient files filling it. “Of course we do.” I hear Dean answer.

I carefully take the clippings out, trying to avoid the cobwebs. I look through the handful quickly everything either ripped off or eradicated except bits of the Doctor's name. “If you're done over there it seems the main evil doctor was ‘Sanford Ellicott’. We should probably research him and the south wing, see what we can find” I say plainly, hoping this could all be over with soon so at least they would stop fighting.

I keep my legs up on the soft chair, my knees to my chest as I read my book. Dean is sitting next to me, his arm resting on the back of my chair, his legs spread widely. From my peripheral vision I see him stare up at the ceiling clearly bored as we wait for his brother to be done in therapy, or really done questioning the apparent son of Dr.Ellicott.

He groans, the noise coming from deep in his chest. I put my bookmark back in my book, shutting it and putting it next to me. I put my arms on my propped up knees lying the side of my face down on them, my cheek squishing against my arm as I peer at Dean. The immediate thought of how good he looks with his head thrown back, a very light stubble gracing his face, his eyes looking greener with the light shining from behind us and—

I shove the thought far into the back of my mind, it wasn’t the time for this not at all. Not even a little. “‘You okay?” I ask softly.

He rolls his head to the side, eyeing me “Sammy’s taking too damn long. He’s already pissed me off.”

“He wouldn’t be taking long unless it was necessary” I answer, smiling at his demeanor. He groans again, “Do you wanna go get coffee? I saw a place a block away, Sam can text when he’s done.” I offer, hoping it would distract him from being so pissed off. He leans his head up, squinting at me, “Is this your attempt at curing my boredom?”

“That depends, is it working?” I squint back at him as I lift my head from my arms, laughter threatening to bubble from my lips.

“Yes” He nods, throwing his hand on my knee, “Let’s go” but he keeps his hand there, a giddy nervousness settling itself in my stomach.

“See I told you couples therapy works!” a hushed voice says catching our attention. I look up to see a red headed girl and her tan boyfriend walking past us without trying to hide their stares, “Wer— we aren’t—“ I try to say loud enough for them to hear but my voice doesn't reach them, “Actually” I sigh, my face feeling warm, “it’s probably best if they just go to therapy.”

I turn my head back towards Dean, finding him already looking at me with scrunched eyebrows, studying me as if he was contemplating something. I place my hand over his, only realizing then my hands were cold when compared to his warm ones, “Ready?” I ask softly. He clears his throat abruptly, nodding his head as he removes his hand from my knee and gets up. I make sure to grab my book as I follow suit, but we only reach the door when a familiar tall figure walks right past us.

Dean's body language changes, he turns back to me confused and annoyed before pushing through the door. Tension clearly already has made its home in his back and shoulders. “Dude! You were in there forever, we were about to leave you. What the hell were you talking about?” He calls out towards his brother, easily matching his pace.

“Just the hospital, you know.” Sam answers plainly. I jog to catch up to them and their stupid long legs, “What’d you find?” I ask.

“The south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.” “Sounds cozy.” Dean remarks.

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.” Sam elaborates.

“Any deaths? Dean follows up.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Did they…stuff him somewhere. I mean I feel like the place is only so big, right?” I hesitantly say.

Sam shrugs, “Cops scoured every inch of the place.”

“That's grim.” Dean murmurs just as we reach the Impala. “Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down” Sam says as he rounds the car.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean lists out.

“And a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam adds

“Cute.” I remark, sarcastically.

“Let's check out the hospital tonight.” Dean finishes, opening the car door.

I shine my flashlight over the asylum, naturally in the darkness of the night it was far creepier than it was only hours before. I follow behind the boys as they enter the dingy entrance, making sure I don’t hit into the duffle bag hanging from Dean's shoulder. “‘You guys getting anything?” I ask since they hold the equipment. Dean holds his EMF reader out in front of him, “Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” Sam adds, looking at the screen of the camera he holds. “Eww, why would you say it like that?” I cringe before mimicking the way he said “orbing.” Sam turns around slowly, glaring at me “How mature of you, Y/n” he deadpans. “Hey i’m just calling it as it is” I respond in defense. He glares at me one last time, turning back around and I hear him mimic what I said. I’m about to hit him on the arm when Dean starts speaking, he looks between us, ultimately choosing to ignore our childish behavior, “There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

Sam added “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em.” Dean finishes, “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” With that we keep walking until we hit the same room we were in the last time we were here, not having gone any further than that the first time around.

We walk a few feet further separating into three different rooms. I scanned my flashlight over the dark room, it had no windows though even if it did it would have been boarded up meaning no natural light to begin with had it been daytime. It was a relatively small room with more graffiti lining the originally white walls. I take a single step into the room, glass crunching underneath my shoe, I lift my foot immediately, kicking the broken glass bottle to the side.

I move further into the room, an overturned desk and a long gone broken lamp on the floor. Must have been a little office, I think to myself as I walk over to the desk finding a small knocked over filing cabinet. I nudged the metal cabinet with my foot, testing to see if anything wanted to make an appearance…like a rat.

When nothing comes from it I twirl my finger, an invisible force turning the cabinet right side up making it accessible. I pull each draw open, still cautious of any critters crawling out, hoping that there would be some hint as to where to look for the unfound bodies. “Y/n” I hear my name called out from behind me.

“Yeah?” I say turning around but there’s no one there. I shine my flashlight first on the doorway, only shadows dancing on the outskirts of my light. I purse my lips, a small pinch of fear forming itself in my heart. I move my flashlight slowly to shine in the corner, every hair on my body standing up. An old man with deep sunken eyes stands in the corner, his body permanently hunched over with his head tilted to the side. Countless needles stick out from his ghostly body, piercing through his hospital gown.

My mouth goes slack with an almost scream in warning to the boys. Still the man doesn't move, he just stares at me which is arguably worse than if he lunged at me, his mouth moves as if in an attempt to say something but his jaw is broken and the words come out in an extended noise. “b….b…b—“ The loud sound of a shotgun goes off just across from the man, my head snaps in the direction of the doorway, a breathless Dean standing there his gun still pointed at the man. “We thought something happened!” Sam half yells, standing right behind his brother.

“I literally haven’t moved from here” I respond, looking back at the corner where he stood. “You okay sweetheart?��� Dean asks. I nod, “Yeah, I mean he didn’t do anything he was just—“

“Standing there” Sam finishes my sentence, “See I told you!”—he nudges his brother—“There’s something weird with the spirits here, they aren’t being aggressive-“ I cut him off this time, concern and confusion making my eyebrows scrunch together, “Wait you encountered a spirit?”

“You didn’t hear Sammy scream for us? Or the gun?” Dean asks. I look between them only being more confused, “No, what are you talking about?!” Except they don’t answer, only looking at each other and then back at me, eyes wide, “Alright something really is going on” Dean admits.

They begin to shuffle out of the room, and I follow, we walk aimlessly down the hall in thought when suddenly a noise like metal scraping against the floor comes from a room just steps away. Dean immediately raises his shotgun, carefully entering the room with Sam and I acting as the lightning. The room had a singular upturned bed facing the only window in the small room, a ragged sheet covering the bed barely concealing the top of a blonde head. We all share a look, bracing ourselves, Sam reaches out tipping over the bed causing it to come down with a loud crash. A young girl sits crouched on the floor, panting and grasping her chest.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?” Dean asks the poor girl, moving his gun down and away from the girl. “Katherine. Kat.” She answers, peering up at us with her big brown eyes.

“What are you doing here!?” Sam half yells at her. I hit his arm, “You suck at comforting people” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear, nearly missing the glare I received in return. I move past Dean leaning down towards the girl, offering my hand to help her up. You can comfort someone without making them seem incapable. She eyes me carefully for a beat before shakily reaching up and taking my hand, “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin” she answers as I lift her up. “Is he here?” Dean asks.

She lets go of my hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts” she explains, "I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and... “

“Alright.” Dean responds, pausing for a beat as if to go over the plan he most definitely already made, “Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” Kat declares, looking frantically between us all.

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.” Dean lectures, his voice getting increasingly louder. “That's why I gotta find him” she answers, her voice stern and straight regardless of being clearly shaken up. Dean meets Sam and then my eyes, “Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Y/N with Sam, Kat with me. Let’s go.”

I lead the way out this time, Sam right next to me as we go down hallway after hallway. Each one seemingly more intricate than the last, if that was even possible. I hope Sam is keeping track of where we are because I’m already lost.

“Gavin?” I call out, peeking around each hallway corner. Is it possible he left? No he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, right? Though the asylum is huge and he could be anywhere—“Y/N! Over here!” Sam calls out from down the hallway to my left. I swirl around heading towards him, crouched down near a rouge hospital bed, I hear him speak as I approach “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, I’m here to help.”

“Who are you?” He responds, fixing his brown hair as he pushes himself away from Sam knocking into the wall behind him in the process. “My name is Sam, that’s Y/N” he gestures towards me, “Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” He asks his brown eyes widening, he gets up revealing his height. He isn't as tall as Sam, probably closer to Dean's height then anything but he was certainly taller then me and his girlfriend. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” Sam responds.

“I was running. I think I fell.” He lifts his hand to the side of his head, his corduroy jacket moving with him. “What were you running from?” I ask.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam follows up, asking carefully. “What? No, she...uh…”

“She what?” Sam asks, impatience on the tip of his tongue.

“She...kissed me.”

…The hall falls silent, neither of us expecting that to be his answer. I’ve never heard of a case in which someone was kissed by a ghost. I mean that’s just disgusting and horrifying, no amount of mouthwash can fix that…or therapy. “Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?” Sam finally says.

“Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” Gavin yells, his eyes widening again. “Well, trust me, it could have been worse.” Sam replies, again not much on the comforting side. Plus I feel like I’d rather be thrown ten feet then kissed by a ghost. “I’m sorry we have to pressure you like this now after you just experienced that but is there anything else you remember?” I ask softly.

“She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.” He answers shyly, almost embarrassed by all this. “What?” Sam shoots back.

“I don't know. I ran like hell.” He answers truthfully.

“That’s the third encounter without an attack” Sam thinks out loud. Gavin glares at him sharply, “Oh…Um…besides the…Uh…kissing” Sam adds.

“Can we really trust that the South Wing really did have violent patients? I mean the workers here aren’t exactly the most reliable considering everything they’ve done to these poor people” I mention.

“She’s got a point” Gavin intervenes. We both look at him, “Um yeah. But what if they were trying to tell us something?” Sam says.

“You mean like some hint as to where uh…” I look over at Gavin knowing I can’t exactly say a rotting body somewhere, “you know is” I mumble looking back at Sam. “Yeah” he answers just as a loud scream rings out from afar. We all share a look of confusion and worry, “That sounds like Kat!” Gavin says. Not waiting a second later we go off running in the direction of the screaming, just about everything you're not supposed to do.

Just down the hall Dean is banging on a huge metal door with a pipe. “What’s going on?” Sam asks just as we approach.

“She's inside with one of them.” He answers his breath a little labored. Kay screams again, “Help me!!”

“Kat!” Gavin yells back banging on the door.

“Get me outta here!” She shouts.

I hide my hand behind my hip making sure to look down, to avoid having to explain anything to Gavin later. With my concealed hand I reached it over to the metal door, my fingertips barely brushing the cold exterior before a hand wrapped around my wrist pulling it forth. “Wait” Sam said sternly, dropping my wrist. I turn my head to look at Dean with questioning eyes as if he would have a reason why his brother stopped me. But when I look at him he’s looking between my wrist and his brother, his eyes scrunched in offense and what may look like anger, upset he stopped me, because doing so might be risking an innocent girl's life.

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam commands, talking to Kat through the door. He must be thinking back to what we said before. “She's gotta what?!” Dean yells, astonished.

“I have to what?!” Kat shouts back.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam explains, indeed referencing what we were discussing before I just hope he’s right, “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” Kat snaps back. A smile threatening to show on my lips. “No! It's the only way to get out of there” Sam insists.

“No!” Kat screams.

“Sam, come on let me get her out” I say quietly hoping only those who know about my abilities can hear me. “No” He says towards me before directing his voice towards the door, “Look at it, come on. You can do it.”

She seems to listen to him, no more screams against his plan. We all wait impatiently, the air thick with anxiety, if this doesn’t work then we caused a very avoidable death. “Kat?” Gavin calls out.

“Man, I hope you're right about this.” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, me too” Sam nods.

“No offense Sammy, but you should have voiced your concern before” I bite, crossing my arms across my chest.

Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, Kat peeking out. Her eyes are wide and blank, clearly startled and traumatized. “Oh, Kat” Gavin murmurs, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Sam maneuvers himself around them, opening the large door further to get past them into the room. He comes back out not even a minute later shaking his head, whatever spirit was in there isn’t anymore.

“One thirty-seven.” Kay says suddenly, wiping away her teary eyes.

“Sorry?” Dean looks at her, puzzled.

“It whispered in my ear. 137.” She clarified.

“Room number.” The boys and I said in sync, our eyes wide in clarity.

“Jinx” I say quickly pointing towards the boys. Dean groans, “You always win.”

I beam, looking up at him, “You just always forget.”

“Yeah cause he’s actually focused on the hunt” Sam quipped, annoyed. “Hey I am foc-“ I try to defend only getting cut off by Sam nudging Dean and I down the hall out of hearing reach throwing a “Excuse us” to the two teens.

“Alright. So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…” Sam starts getting his sentence finished by his brother, “Then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe they're helping us out” I shrug, “Giving us hints?”

“I guess we'll find out.” Dean huffs.

“Alright.” Sam confirms, nothing more to be said.

Dean separates from our little huddle calling out to the kids waiting on us, “So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?”

“That's an understatement.” Kat remarks.

“Okay.” He turns back to us, “Sam you get them outta here. Y/N were going to go find room 137.”

“Isn’t it best that I go with Sam?, make sure they can get out” I ask, not to say that I don’t want to go with Dean but still trying to be reasonable.

“If the spirits suddenly decide to get rowdy and gang up on me like they did Doc, I’d want you on my side” Dean answers, making a motion with his hands weirdly that I suppose is meant to represent my abilities. “Ok fair enough” I shrug, not needing any more convincing. Sam moves away towards Kat and Gavin. Dean and I waited until they were out of sight, getting led by Sam, before moving to find room 137.

We only move a few feet when I notice the lack of something in Dean's hand, “What happened to your flashlight?” I ask. He pulls back the side of his grayish-blue button down jacket exposing the thick flashlight tucked into his jeans, “Died jus’ before Kat got dragged into that room” he explains. I reluctantly drag my eyes back up to his face, a flashlight held in his jeans shouldn't have been hot, I give him a single awkward nod before forcing my eyes back in front of me.

“I think it’s down this way” He nudges my arm just as we get to the end of the long hallway, pointing left. I point my flashlight in that direction, the light illuminating the continuous mess of the asylum, “How do you know?” I ask. He shrugs, “Intuition.” I followed him down the hall even under the weak assumption, there were hardly any sign indicators and if there were they were unreadable due to destruction or graffiti.

I give him a look as we walk the hall, not finding the room. “I meant the next one over” he says with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh yeah of course” I nod, playing into whatever you want to call this.

He mumbles the room number underneath his breath, an excited-nervous energy surrounding him as we approach the supposed right hallway. It was adorable.

“Look who was right.” He says, his voice coming from behind me. I turn towards him an even bigger smile on his face, I lift my flashlight to shine where the number would be. “Let’s just hope the ghost wasn’t tricking us” I huff.

He goes to push the door open only to find it stuck on something, he grunts putting more of his body weight on the door until it’s open enough to let us through. The room is a mess (but what else is new for this place), filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained with something that I think I’d rather not know. I shine the flashlight around going over to one of the filing cabinets opening it to find manila folders, I flick through them. More patient files but nothing of use as of now.

I whirl around to find Dean crouched down in the back of the room, prying off a wooden panel. He finally gets it off with a loud cracking noise, “This is why I get paid the big bucks.” he murmurs, the only indication that he found something. “You don’t get paid any bucks” I responded.

He turns his head slowly to me in offense holding up a deteriorating satchel in one hand and a mess of papers in the other. He gets up handing me the stack of papers and with his foot drags up a nearby chair scooting it close for me before dragging up one for himself. I go through my stack, a bunch of drawn images of medical instruments like lobotomy pick, straight jackets and cuffs, and other drawings with no labels but incredibly detailed writing and drawings that were nothing more than torture. “This feels like a messed up book club” I comment.

“Yeah check this out. Dr. here believed that provoking extreme anger would be therapeutic.” He explains, “Seems like all he ever did was work on this theory.”

“I think I read a research paper from 2002 on a similar idea called catharsis” I explain, “It basically means venting out negative emotions, especially anger. However researchers found it did the opposite and more likely increased aggression. But I guess in this case he was forcing it rather than the patients venting out anger they had from past traumas or anything of the sort.”

I know he is listening to my rant, his eyes moving up from the book to look at me before going back to the journal, his eyes scrunched in concern at what he read, “All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.”

I nearly laugh when a sudden creak comes from the hall, I look to Dean to find him with just as a confused face as mine. He had heard it too. He makes a “give me” motion so I hand over the papers, he puts them and the journal he read from back in the satchel. Without saying anything I knew he was moving us to check up on Sammy.

We manage our way back to the room Kat got locked into, but from there it winds up being a maze as to where Sammy could be. Lefts and rights and accidentally going in large circles. “Alright one more hallway and then we’re calling him” I plead, getting frustrated at this stupid musty asylum. “Deal” Dean nods.

The floor was particularly bad in this hall, each step followed by a creak each one louder then the next. Just as we reach the end of the hallway and turn right, for a split second, Kat stands there shotgun raised at us, her finger on the trigger. She shoots. Dean throws himself backwards, his arm going out right in front of me pushing me back against the corner wall out of the way from danger. Both of us were up against the wall next to each other, his arm just beneath my breasts holding me in place. A large puff of white smoke looking substance flies out from the wall, bits of the wall crumbling to the floor just by Dean's shoulder opposite to the one near me. Acting as the only signs of where the bullet had gone.

Our labored breaths nearly matched each other's, chests heaving. His arm remains where it is even when no more shots ring out, he yells, “Damn it, damn it, don’t shoot! It's us!!”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Kat meekly cries out.

“Jesus Chri-“ I peered around Dean's body at the shot, she would have killed us. Impressive. I bring a shaky hand up to the arm that still held me, he drops his arm allowing me to move past him and round the corner to the people who nearly ended us.

“What are you still doing here?! You're supposed to be gone! Also, why are you good with a gun?!” I exclaim. Dean immediately adding, “Where’s Sam?” Our rushed voices combining for a melody of pressured questions.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin answers, pointing to Dean. “I didn't call anybody.” Dean replies, looking at me confused I shrug not having any idea myself.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat elaborates.

“Basement, huh?” Dean hums before turning to me, “I’m gonna go to Sam, get them out of here.”

“Wait no I should come with you” I say.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart, just get them out of here” He orders, but his voice is soft where it should be commanding. He takes the gun from Kat and before I can say anything more he’s running off.

I turn towards the door, trying to think of the least suspicious way possible to open the door. A chain with a lock lies on the floor just in front of my feet. It must not just be a locked door, perhaps it is the spirits here keeping it closed. I pull on the door handle letting my powers seep into the large door willing it open. It opens with another pull, having to use a lot of strength to open the old door. “Alright let’s go” I say, turning to the two behind me. They look at me with a mix of shock and confusion, “How di-“ Gavin asks before I cut him off, “It was just jammed” I lie.

I follow them down the steps and watch them climb over the fence. I wait until I see them physically get into the car, both kids looking back almost hesitant to leave us behind. But I have no time to help with their guilty conscience, I turn back toward the building immediately running up the steps and back into the asylum. I curse not knowing which way Dean exactly went or where the hell the basement was let alone where a staircase was.

In the dim, haunting corridors of the abandoned asylum, panic pulses through me like a heartbeat. The suffocating air clings to my skin as I navigate the labyrinth that is this building. Every step feels like a hesitant dance with the unknown. I try to suppress the fear clawing at my throat, envisioning worst-case scenarios involving Sam and Dean. Could they be hurt, trapped, dead? My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, one that feels too overwhelming to control as pathetic as it sounds and feels.

Desperation fuels my movements as I sprint down seemingly endless hallways, each one a haunting replica of the last. It's a macabre maze, and my heart races with the urgency of finding the elusive staircase leading to the basement.

As I turn another corner, the harsh silence amplifies the echoes of my footsteps. "Sam! Dean!" I call out, my voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The only response is the distant moan of the decaying building. With determination fueling my every step, I press forward, driven by the desperate need to uncover the secrets hidden below. The dim light casts distorted shadows on peeling wallpaper, playing tricks on my eyes. Yet, I press on, the image of the elusive staircase driving me forward, my breath a rhythm of fear and determination.

As if the old building heard my pleas I spot a door just at the end of the hall, a medal bar for the handle and if it isn’t my eyes playing tricks on me then a small sign signifying a person walking up stairs lies on the small window on the door. I all but ran over, the thing I needed most lying right there. As I push open the door, anticipation and anxiety rests behind my rib cage, a reminder that finding the door wasn’t enough. I still needed to find them.

However, as the door creaks open, my heart sinks. Before me lies a staircase, but it ascends rather than descending. Everything that I do not need. I was being mocked. The staircase leading upward into the unknown when my every instinct demands a descent into the depths below.

I stand at the threshold, contemplating my next move. Panic threatens to resurface, but I force a deep breath, I know what I must do even when it is foreign to me. I had not trained in it, hadn’t studied it enough, so much of me was like that. So many abilities I could have and use but always dared to leave untouched, this being one of them. I knew only how to use it in such short distances, and only in spaces that I could see. Not like this.

But I’m afraid and desperate enough. I know the boys are very capable of taking care of themselves, yet an unmistakable fear lives behind my rib cage for those I love, a fear of losing them. I close my eyes. This staircase had to be close enough. My fear had to be enough. I force another deep breath, bracing my feet beneath me. I could picture the room around me even with my eyes sealed, focusing on how the walls stretched above me in my mind's eye.

I had not seen the basement, hadn’t a single idea what it even began to look like. Yet still I force my perception down, below the concrete laying underneath my shoes. But more than that I needed to find them, I try my best to picture them specifically even in an unknown location. The air seems to ripple around me, reality folding over itself.

I open my eyes, no longer in the stairwell but presumably in the basement. The only indication I’ve gone to the right place is the boy's only feet in front of me. What should be a triumphant moment is crushed under the scene in front of me.

Dean is on his back splayed across the floor, broken wall beneath him the concrete powder sticking to his clothes. Sam is standing over him, shotgun pointed down at his brother, I can not see his full face from here but I can see it is etched in anger. “Sam!” I yell, catching his attention. He turns to me, his face scrunched in disgust, he does not lower the gun.

“What the hell is hap-“ I try to ask but the gun goes off with a loud bang. Suddenly I’m in front of him, the bullets hitting the hall that laid behind me when I stood in the doorway. I teleported out of danger without a second's thought, I make a mental note for later as I punch Sammy square in the face, my knuckles hitting against his sharp jaw.

He stumbles back a few feet, my knuckles burn, he will have to forgive me later. I do not want to hurt him but I do need to stop him. I mumble a sorry, hooking my leg behind his, hitting into the back of his knee with my foot forcing his legs to collapse beneath him knocking him to his knees. I use his shock as leverage, easily pulling the gun from his hands, I point the gun at him even though I do not want to.

Dean groans still on the ground, only having leaned up from his position. Sam holds his hands up, “Shoot me” he spits. He was taunting me, testing me. “I have no need to” I answer calmly. He was possessed or influenced by the doctor here, this wasn’t really him, I knew that.

I hear Dean get up, panting and making small noises of pain. I look over at him from the corner of my eye, watching him hold just below his chest in pain, “You okay there?” I ask, earning a grumbled “yeah”. Dean drags himself to the front of the room where he must have dropped the duffle bag he was carrying.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam try to lunge towards me, I snap my attention back to him “Hey”,I warn, “Stop.” He looked even more pissed, his mouth twitching with words he wanted to say, “You think protecting him is gonna make him fall in love with you?” He says quietly. I check behind me but Dean makes no indication that he heard, I know it’s not really him speaking but the words still sting. “I’m not that diluted” I answered, turning back to him.

“You follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic” He laughs, “Really, you follow us around. But we don’t need you, we’d be better off without you. All you do is take up space.” The words bite into my skin, my heart suddenly feeling heavy. Losing my firm stance he grasps onto my ankle pulling it towards him sharply, knocking me on my ass hard. He punches me, his fist connecting with my nose, my eyes tearing up on its own accord with a harsh throbbing. He snatches the gun back when I hear movement towards us, without looking I shout back “I can take him, just find the body!”

Sam straddles my lap, his knees pinning my hands to the floor with an incredible amount of pain, and I can not pull my hands free. He grabs my chin roughly forcing my gaze on him, my neck leaning up at a weird angle, “You feel the need to be with us, it’s the only thing that fills the gap of being left behind your whole life.”

Hurt and anger burn my eyes. I move my face out of his hold and he lets me, I lean my head back before slamming it into his. The resounding clash of our heads echoed through the air, an abrupt collision that sent shockwaves of discomfort rippling through my skull. He loses slight balance, his knees leave my hands the feeling rushing back into them but I do not leave time for feelings of victory. I shove him back, using more force than I probably should have.

I stand up swiftly, stumbling over myself slightly, my head throbbing severely. “You” I point, breathing heavily, “Have a hard head.” He tries to reach for the gun but I kick it out of reach before he’s able to.

I knew Dean was close by even with the room being so large and divided, but I didn’t know how close he was to finishing up. There was a strong sense of dread in my stomach, I don’t want to fight anymore, maybe curl up into a ball and contemplate life but not fight. “Please, stay down” I beg, my eyes still teary from a mix of a reaction to the pain and just being upset.

He leans up, that horrible anger still etched on his face. I hold my hand up at him, extending my force outwards pinning him down with an invisible force. He struggles against it, his arms shaking. I grit my teeth, disgust tangling itself in my gut. Yes this was out of self defense and necessity but this wasn’t me. He was my friend, to restrain him in such a way…with my abilities…when I’m meant to help people.

I force my face away, a lump tight in my throat when I catch my reflection on a piece of broken glass in the far edge of the room. It was if I was being teased by the devil himself, staring at a reflection I wasn’t sure I even recognized. My eyes were fierce yet brimmed with tears, my pupils glowing purple. Where did this lie in morality? It felt wrong. So disgustingly wrong even if it was meant to be helpful.

Only a little longer, only until the remains were burnt and Sam was fine. “Y/N”

“Y/N!” He begs.

I turned my head back to him, the anger previously on his face melted away. I immediately release my hold on him, dropping my hand down swiftly. For a moment there it seemed fear had crossed his eyes, I took a step back lifting my hand to my forehead, a thin line of sweat wetting my face. My chest heaves, complete overwhelm filling my senses. I feel it in my bones this need to move, to get out. It had not taken anything out of me to hold him down, and that is what scared me the most.

Dean shuffles back into view, coming over and helping this brother up. When had he walked over here? I take another step back, their voices meshing together in a blob of incoherent sounds. A strong familiar hand grasps my upper arm, I look up at Dean, his eyes scrunched together in concern. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, but his voice seems so far away. I look over at Sam, a bruise already forming on his jaw a reminder of what I had done. I find no fear in his eyes any longer, not even as he rubs at the forming mark. I nod absent-mindedly at Dean's question, though it wasn’t true and he had known that too.

He gives my arm a firm squeeze before sliding it down slowly to my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I look up at him again, but his face is turned away already walking towards the duffel bag bringing me along with him. He doesn't say anything about holding my hand, not even as he leans down to the bag swinging it over the shoulder that is opposite to where I stand.

He leads the way out of the basement, Sam following behind us silently. I let him lead me, just staring down at our intertwined hands. His sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, ‘must have done that when he left us before. Holding hands wasn’t totally uncommon for us and we both happened to be touchy people, even so butterflies danced in my stomach.

When we finally reached the exit, the early morning sun had begun to shine through the clouds. Every one of our movements was done in silence, he let go of my hand only until we climbed back over the fence. The second both our feet had hit the ground he claimed it once more.

Just a short distance away Kat and Gavin lean against their car, my eyes scrunch in confusion. I thought they left. “What are you guys still doing here?” I call out from a few feet away. They analyze us, probably noticing the clear sign of a fight and who I’m holding hands with but I do not let go of his hand, and he makes no move to do so either. “We wanted to make sure you got out” Kat answers, crossing her arms across her chest, “And to say thank you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin adds in.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean replies. They nod and get in the car, this time starting it up.

“Hey, guys?” Sam says quietly as we begin to walk towards the Impala. He gets in front of us, walking backwards so we couldn’t ignore him, “I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there.”

I frown, not wanting to be reminded of something that happened only minutes ago. “You remember all that?” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.” He says making sure he directs it at both of us.

“You must believe it on some subconscious level…right?” I say. I do not mean to come off harsh or make him feel worse about himself, but he had to feel that way on some level. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I suddenly feel bad for what I said, “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?” He insists.

Reaching the Impala Dean unlocks the car, opening my door with his free hand but I make no moves of getting in just yet. He lets go of my hand, moving to the back of the car to throw in the duffel before rounding the rest of the car to the driver seat. Just before he gets in he answers his brother, venom clear on his tongue, “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He slams the car door behind him.

I look over at Sam, total defeat written all over his face. I move past the car door moving right in front of Sam, he looked down at me expectantly. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. We will go to a motel and sleep the night off, and I don’t want to go to bed upset. His initial surprise wears off and he hugs me back, I pull away slightly. “You said mean things and I know you're sorry, but they still hurt… I’m not mad at you for thinking like that, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt us.” I say softly, I don’t like being angry at someone or holding grudges.

His eyes are filled with desperate sorrow as he says, “I’m sorry.” He hugs me tightly adding a quiet, “thank you.” And I knew he had meant for just talking to him about it even if it was only a little and for not hating him. We pull away from each other, and he ruffles my hair like an annoying brother before getting in the Impala. I move past the open door again, this time getting in.

Even after a nice hot shower and being all cozied up in the motel bed, sleep still could not find me. I groan frustrated, switching positions for the upteenth time, glad that I had my own room so as to not wake anyone.

I shift again, moving onto my back, the memories of what happened earlier playing through my head on repeat. Whether Sam meant it or not he was right. They didn’t need me, they were more than capable by themselves. Maybe I should go back home.

I could call Adeline, ask her if she could pick me up from the airport and take me home. The plane ride wouldn’t be so bad, I just have to figure out how to get to the airport with no car of my own. But that thought upset me more. I’d go home and worry over the boys excessively, where they were, how they were doing, if they were safe or even alive, if they found their dad. Maybe I was a burden to them.

God. And what I did to Sam? To use my powers like that?! Though I guess before the whole fight the teleporting was quite impressive especially because I am not skilled in that.

I want to be the best, but I'm afraid of what that would mean. What I would become.

I shift again, my feet tangling under the heavy covers. I sit up letting the blankets fall to my waist, and without thinking I pick up my phone dialing in her number. I had no idea what time it was in New York City but I knew she didn’t care about that sort of thing, she would pick up regardless of time or what she was doing. The phone barely gets to ring for a third time when she answers, “Hey Addie…”

[xxsycamore]

greetings mo, congrats on your follower milestone ^_^

may i request prompt #4 🌸 (breath in their soothing scent) for the 4th prince leon (ikepri) im not sure what he smells like, you can decide what he smells like but im sure he smells very comforting (except after training lol)

thank you 🦁❤️

I'm so glad to see you here, Sui! It's such a joy writing Leon for you, believe me!!! 🦁❤️❤️❤️❤️

[🌸] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘𝚗 '𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞…

LEON:

When you come to, you initially decide you must be waking up in the morning. It's because Leon is right there next to you, sleeping soundly - a familiar sensation. Then you try to stretch out your limbs, only to find a certain obstruction like you're squeezed in a tight place... And opening your eyes ever so slightly, you confirm that yes, you've actually fallen asleep on the sofa in Leon's room. And yes, so has he, further limiting the space. You're not sure when exactly he came back home or whether you told him anything half-asleep or he voluntarily gave you a cuddle on the couch, but you can't find yourself caring too much right now. You're warm, well-rested (though you wouldn't refuse a bit more shut-eye, just for the sake of it) and you're in Leon's arms. And he smells so damn good.

You're not sure if that's something that other people notice or it's just you. In the course of being his lover, you've become sensitive to even the littlest things about him, you can't help that natural process of becoming familiar with him inside out.

It's a little far in the day so he carries a mixture of smells, none of being bad of course. The faintest of which is his bathing soap, trapped underneath his clothes, from where he washed himself in the morning - nothing too special, not floral or anything like that - as he cares little for anything beyond simply being nice and clean and ready for the day. Next is the fragrance he applies after shaving, in sharp contrast to the soap: it's because he wasn't the one who chose it, but his older brother. Jin gifted him this "ladykiller scent" a while ago but Leon is yet to use it up, putting only reasonable amounts, unlike a certain someone. You're fairly sure he would've completely abandoned it on his vanity if it weren't for one comment of yours that you funnily don't find it that bad.

Then he smells like warmth, from the sun that has embraced him during the day; not sweat or anything too musky, rather just a tang of it, like freshly dried bedsheets. Then he smells of spices and a well-fed stomach, making you wonder if he paid a visit to the chef who cooks for him and his hungry troops after training (of course he joins them for a meal) - to either make a request or extend his compliments, because he's just like that.

You take a look at Leon, as much as you can from your position cuddled up on his chest. You take note of the random position he fell asleep in, with his head half-cushioned by his arm, half dangling off the edge of the couch, like a lion taking a nap without a care in the world because he has nothing and no one to be wary of.

You breathe in Leon's comforting scent once more. You wonder if you're missing something - something that your sense of smell has dulled towards because it follows you everywhere - your very own scent.

∎ (REQUESTS CLOSED) Steal My Heart!! - xxsycamore’s 1500 followers celebration event | 💌 event masterlist

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

Yes, a rant on liberals (Another one), not only are they using a scare against Trump, but they will also use gashlighing (Or call you a queerphobe… Greetings to all aroace lol) because "You don't care about Palestine" (They tell you what they ignore is that Harris/Biden/Blue Party supplies weapons to Israel, so bravo, mirror propaganda, but looking If you are for Zionists, you know where you got this method from fucking Israel)

And it's funny that they have the audacity to call you a Russian troll, or even better a "Believer in Russian propaganda", when they themselves believe in American and Israeli propaganda… Well, sorry, I'm no longer afraid of Russia, I'm now terrified of fucking Israel and it poses the greatest threat , before we realized how terrifying Israel is, Russia acted as a real fear, but now he looks like a fly in the soup compared to a hippo in a fucking lake (Seriously, what Putin is doing is disgusting, not only is he a xenophobe, a colonizer and a queerphobe, but he is also brainwashing, which does not work as strongly as in the case of Israel , but still, you have to swim through this ocean of propaganda)

Israel is scary because it goes unpunished (And the USA supplies it with weapons…), when Russia attacked Ukraine, people were absolutely disgusted and terrified by it, but when Israel commits genocide, has a law allowing rape in prison, uses pinkwashing (Loved by liberals blue voters) and his behavior shows that he wants to start a third world war (It's not a joke), suddenly people are silent or pretend that nothing bad is happening and it's fucking fucked up

It pisses me off when people are afraid of Russia and remain silent about Israel, which is a million times worse, because it goes unpunished and there is a big difference, the fact that people treat genocide as acceptable because it is carried out by a country from "Pseudo protection of Jews" (Tia. .. With a history of stealing Yemeni Jewish children and killing Palestinian… It's not without reason that I call Israel "A country for white colonizers who profess Judaism but have nothing in common with it"), then suddenly people decide that it's ok, and it shouldn't be ok

Yes, fuck the liberals and their scare against Trump because he is cynical about what is happening in Gaza

Now that I have your attention:

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

I bought a new USB cable, so there is less chance of interruption with each pasted link

Seriously, looking for things not on the boycott list is a challenge (And you still catch something by accident and find out after you buy it… Yes, I'm talking about Lorenz chips, the logo was on the other side… Eh…)

The biggest problem is in small stores where most of the products are from Zionist companies, which sucks :/

Sometimes you can look through the packaging and only notice the logo after purchasing… That's what happens to me...

But okay, at least I'm trying… Unfortunately, my sister doesn't care, so well… Unfortunately, that's what it looks like

But here's a rant on chips: Why are most of them from Zionist companies? You have to look for it, but you won't find it anyway…

I know, it's trivial considering what's happening in Gaza, but as I mentioned, there are more Zionist companies in small shops (Fucking Nestle…) than those that didn't support Israel, so you're looking for a needle in a haystack

But yes, maybe this rant will help the collections reach more people, because the problem of reaching them is increasing :/

And the funny thing is (After this rant), my niece bought these cookies from PAW Patrol, right? Apparently there was a storm in the USA, although not as big as the one from MLP, in short, with this link to a certain website, for some reason in Poland these cakes are available for purchase and yes, I know that it is shocking for the USA, but rather children do not enter links from packaging, they just eat the cookies and then the packaging goes to the trash, so only adults enter this link because children don't care

So yes, I'm pissed about this fact, corn cookies (In the USA they caused a drama, but in Poland you can buy them in the KiK clothes store)

But seriously, you can buy them, WTF

But yes, you are relieved after the rant I gave earlier, you can just buy this cookie

(I can add additional tags to make the collections reach a larger group of people)

Remember about clicks

[negrutou]

I think I finally get the Mononoke: Noppera-bo arc. I think I got it. (I've watched this series like 6 times in English and 6 in Japanese,,,, could it be insanity? 😏)

No, I don't think the Mononoke is Kusuriuri in disguise, and no I don't think Kusuriuri loved Ocho. The Noppera-bo are faceless yokai who are known to steal faces and cause tricks. They also can be Tanuki or Kitsune in disguise (could that mean Kusuriuri can be a Noppera-bo? Maybe that's how he knew to dispel all those tricks). This Mononoke could just also happen to be another nameless Tanuki or Kitsune. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Regardless of all that, Ocho obviously killed every desire she had and thus those desires were her different faces, in which created the Noppera-bo that fed off the pain of her sacrifices. She wanted to be a good daughter for her mother so she killed her playful side, she wanted to be a good wife so she killed her disobedient side. She sacrificed herself. She sacrificed her many faces.

And we've all been there. We gave up so many pieces of ourselves and gave up energy to keep the status quo in some way, form, or shape (reason and truth!!!). And it's so easy to hide away from reality and picture the "what ifs" if we kept to our honest selves or jumped into our impulsive/intrusive thoughts. And Ocho had done the same thing.

She is literally feeding her own negative thoughts by picturing what would happen if she decided to kill them all. Or if she stayed in her prison some faceless man (the Noppera-bo) will come and save her and build her a palace and love her despite the flaws. Like literally, the scene where they get "married" and all the masks are soooo jealous?? Like c'mon... That's Tumblr girlie sleepytime scenarios 101.

The Noppera-bo fed into her delusions, for lack of a better word. For her trial was fake in my honest interpretation. The trial was a metaphor for her final face. If she killed her final self, the self she had now, the obedient, selfless, demure Ocho, she would lose her identity once and for all. Who would she be after? Her face would have been stolen, and the Noppera-bo would have succeeded in stealing her, keeping her trapped in the prison she thought a palace.

Not to mention, ALL of this is happening in her mind. She is technically still in reality, picking up the broken sake bottle. And in order for the Noppera-bo to lose, Kusuriuri must bring Ocho back to reality and force her to remember her self worth, to remember her main face. The Ocho Kusuriuri kills in the end is the one that keeps her trapped in her daydream, the one that wonders why the Noppera-bo loved her, the one that wonders what her life would be like rather than the one who goes and does it.

I also wanna say that the Noppera-bo, the faceless man that would do anything for Ocho, is Ocho. Ocho is the Mononoke. I mean obviously they state it in the episode, but people still think the faceless man and Ocho are two separate beings. I treat the Noppera-bo as her imagination. Like your brain will do some crazy things to protect itself from self destructing, and that basically is what the Noppera-bo was. I can say from personal experience I dived heavily into fanfiction and fantasy because I wanted to escape the horrible reality of being homeless, depressed, and suicidal.

It's so apparent in the voice lines too that Kusuriuri didn't think the Noppera-bo was helpful at all.

"Why did he save me?"

"Do you really think he saved you?"

Like just because the Noppera-bo was trying to make her happy (and just because I dove in fanfiction to vent out my frustrations) didn't mean she was saved (did not mean I had the maturity to face my demons).

I think in the end, Ocho has the guts to leave. The medicine vendor saves her from her destructive self and she goes to run away like she intended.

I hope to God this dissertation makes sense. My brain is everywhere while watching these episodes for the 7th time.

[zombiewhor3]

I’LL FIND YOU

Daryl Dixon x fem reader

WARNINGS: grief, angst, mentions of death, blood, gore, mentions of weapons, mentions of alcohol, mentions of smoking, mentions of medication, injured reader in first half, mentions of fire, malnutrition/dehydration, mentions of vomit, mentions of murder, walkers described in gorey details, season 3 plot, the governor, mentions of dead parent (Lori/Hershel), unconscious reader in second half, no actual main character death except for mentions of Hershel, mentions of bullet wound, talk of knives, war between the governor x ricks men.

A/N: I’ve been working on the piece for about a month and I’ve been trying my best to edit and add any little minor details hopefully you guys enjoy it and feedback is always appreciated!

WORD COUNT: over 12.3K words

-

the governor had finally struck this time it was a total surprise that he showed up on the front lawn of the prison holding two of their own people captive and trying to bargain for a shitty trade,

A shitty trade that would've never happened if they had just had left the governor and his people alone.

he had let loose his men on to the camp causing chaos throughout the members of the community,

he was releasing a toxin of death and violence throughout the air when he arrived, it was almost like a snake spitting out its venom.

y/n had wished that Michonne had just gutted him when she had the chance that instead of all this chaos he'd be six feet in the ground not a bother to anyone any more,

or even better he'd be a mind and life less walker left roaming the world with no god damn purpose.

She still felt that rick was wrong for shutting her down at the idea that maybe if he hadn't none of this mess would've happened,

they had lost an innocent man one who was helpful when it came to the crops and tending to the people who had the sickness, he was one that had kept the camp together in some of its mayhem.

Once the prison went down in flames and gunfire was unleashed striking a few of their members including y/n herself,

everyone had scattered firing weapons and screaming for their loved ones, looking for their brothers and sisters,

even children had been lost through the mayhem.

The ones who hadn't gotten onto the bus had run into different parts of the woods to escape the mayhem and protect themselves from being shot at,

except others like Michonne stayed to finally end it once and for all, after stealing her sword back she had left the governor to be gutted by the walkers to get his karma, or his fate ot whatever else bullshit you'd like to call it.

But whatever it was it was meant to be, that's how things were supposed to go and there was no changing it now, it was all to late to stop the terror and mayhem reeked on the people and the prison left in a gush of flames and walkers,

some of the walkers were people they knew. People they had lived with inside the prison, people they fed each night and people they had nurtured to come back from their sickness all for them to be killed by a man that should've died ages ago.

A man that had let a walker eat Angela, a man who was a fucking psychopath but yet he had still slipped through the cracks of being killed by Michonne and the others.

Grenades and the sound of gunfire erupted all around the outside of the prison making a loud ruckus that had surely sent a signal to walkers miles away that there was fresh meat lurking it was only a matter of time before a hoard had shown up just like on the farm.

She held her gun as she fired bullets taking down one of the governors men watching as he fell out onto the grass, she couldn't feel mercy for someone who killed innocent people,

she couldn't forgive someone who killed a good man like hershel, even if the pit of her heart wanted to she couldn't do it, so she shot them down to protect not just her friends but Daryl.

Daryl looked over at her as he could see her leg being struck from her lack of attention, for a split second she had let her eyes go and that's when she could feel the bullet piercing through her thigh,

he had fired one more bullet before rushing to her pulling her behind a metal box, hoping that it would shield them off for a few minutes or just even a few seconds so he could tend to her wound.

She whimpered looking down at the pool of blood and watching Daryl tear some fabric off of his shirt as he ripped open her blue jeans tying the cloth around it to keep the blood in,

"i gotta get you to the bus y/n" he spoke trying to help her up but he watched her shake her head with a violent 'no'  "what do you mean no you're hurt we gotta get you out of here you're done fighting"

he spoke lifting her up and placing her onto the steps of the bus watching Maggie drag her in.

"I can fight Daryl! I just might not be at my best!"

She argued back,

he fired a bullet knocking a man dead before replying to her with a force but meaningful voice, it was something he was good at. "promise i'll find ya y/n I just need you to stay here with Maggie please"

he spoke before firing his gun at a walker looking for something to cover him from the other gun fire surrounding them, he had his crossbow on his back empty without arrows and his gun was soon to run out of bullets.

She had remembered the terror from watching the blood pool and her mind wandering in a train wreck of thoughts as she called out for Daryl who wasn't visible through the smoke anymore,

she let out a cry as she had jumped down the steps her shotgun resting on her back and her pistol still low on bullets in her holster.

that's all she needed, she'd find food and maybe a stream for water along the way,

maybe her and Daryl could survive with low ammo and low supplies, hell that was if she could even find him through the uproar.

she could hear Maggie cry out for her to come back on the bus through the open doors as she watched her limp into the smoke pulling her pistol out of her holster, she could hear Daryl call out something muffled by the gunfire and the walkers snarling,

y/n held onto her leg screaming out for him while she shot her last few bullets at a few walkers, she groaned as she could feel one groping at her arm its teeth snapping and trying to chomp down on the fleshy part of her neck,

she had used her leg to kick it back but none of it was enough, this walker was strong and hungry for its next meal, y/n had closed her eyes mumbling something aloud to herself.

Maybe a soft prayer or just an apology for being so damn weak, but it wasn't needed. Well not now at least because she could feel its blood splatter from a gunshot by maggie who  had chased after her and with the haze of the smoke around them she called out y/n's name

she was also so desperately searching for her husband along the way, y/n could barely hear her calls over the sound of grenades launching and the slight gun fire from the people still fighting walkers, the snarling like a horrid echo in her brain.

and the gunfire around them like a constant loop she couldn't get rid of.

She had lost Daryl in the crowd of smoke, it was like he had just been sucked into it, she was weeping from the fresh wound on her leg making things even harder to contain her silence to hide from the walkers, she spun in a circle as she called out his name maybe just to see if fate would take it's place,

she thought maybe he'd peak his head out and grab her hand or just maybe she could follow his voice back to his trail but she could hear nothing except Maggie's yelling as she had pulled y/n back from a walker she had been oblivious to because of the smokey haze surrounding them,

they had followed bob and sasha who had taken a grip onto each other's hands, they were able to follow each other into a spot in the woods,

where the smell of gun-powder lingered and where they could see the riot of destruction still going on.

"i gotta go back, I can't leave him"

y/n cried out feeling sasha wrap her arm around her to help keep her stable and well from toppling over from the roots underneath their feet.

she knew wasn't safe to be roaming around not with flesh eating monsters and bullets flying everywhere especially with a wound of her own in her leg but that didn't mean she wasn't willing to try by risking her entire life.

she could've been half eaten or pierced with bullets a million times but none of that would've ever stopped her from looking for Daryl.

They could hear the bus take off with the roar of its engine while it was pelted with bullets, she watched Maggie slip a tear down her cheek as she knelt down to take a moment,

y/n had plotted a spot in the dirt next to her while she laid her head on maggie's shoulder.

with a soft sniffle she watched walkers flood in from almost each direction hitting every weak spot of the prison there was, the fences hadn't mattered now because they were all destroyed from the governors tank and the bombs he had placed in the prison.

their somewhat of a 'home' had been destroyed, all their friends that were buried in the prison yard had been stomped on and destroyed by the tanks and the fire spreading through them,

She stared into the destruction while her mind was in somewhat of a  distant haze on not being able to find daryl she called out for him in the woods but there was no response instead she could hear gunfire still rocketing from the prison as smoke was flooding up into the sky,

she covered her mouth with a soft gasp watching a side of the building fall to pieces from the destruction of the fire, a part of the building had started to collapse the building they had lived in, the building where they had lost their friends.

and now they were surely to lose even more.

her eyes burned from the tears erupting from them while she could feel her lungs gasping for fresh air in the forest to calm herself down

instead it was like she could feel the grey chemicals filling them instead, she couldn't fully focus on the others as she watched the prison burn.

Maggie did the same she stood frozen in silence while looking down at the blood and the destruction while looking down at the walkers that had been crawling the place,

y/n would've just frozen in place and let herself get shot or eaten by walkers, her mind was only able to focus on the destruction around her not the part of escaping if it weren't for the thought of her friends lingering in her mind she would've given up and let the evil take her in.

She could feel her mind in a whirl as Sasha had to convince her it was time to leave that this area wasn't safe especially not with the walkers starting to flood in like a tidal wave,

The mob grew bigger and bigger because of the sound luring them all in, she was afraid, for the longest time during the end of the world she hadn't been afraid,

she knew what she was supposed to do and she knew how to do it. Why was this so damn hard for her? Why couldn't she grow up and calm herself down from the pain of the situation around them?

She looked over at maggie who had a slight tremble in her step and she hadn't even been shot,

yet it was the terror in her eyes that made y/n start to understand the reality of it all, the

pity and the anger lingering in her pupils while they grew wide while  watching her fathers head being cut off like a lambs.

Instead of a sob or a cry she was quiet keeping to herself while she killed straggling walkers that approached around them.

Now y/n was thinking about Daryl, she saw the way his eyes looked when he got worried whenever they fought a big enough mob he'd pull her aside and check for any bites or scratches right away, he was always the first to volunteer to go on runs with her, and he was always the first to look out for her.

He wasn't a frightened man, he was never scared even if you had put a gun to his head and threatened to pull the trigger would he not beg for his damn life, he was never afraid when he approached walkers or bad men trying to hurt the camp, but this. This mayhem scared him.

Not because he was scared for his life but yet it was hers he was so damn scared about,

he was nervous that she'd be an easy target for the walkers because he had seen the blood rushing out of her thigh from the bullet from a man's gun that had pierced her clear through.

He hadn't had a sight of her, but he prayed she had stayed on the bus. That she hadn't gotten off to go looking for him, he was praying a murmured prayer not just in his mind but aloud as he followed beth into the woods.

"did you see him y/n asked sasha with a hint of hope in her voice, sasha watched as her lip  l quivered as she shook her head no at her,

y/n felt somewhat close to hopeless not for Daryl but herself, she was afraid to be out there with just a gun that had 2 bullets in it and her shotgun had been empty from y/n giving rick her ammo.

They had used all their ammo shooting at the governor's men, trying to defend their territory and their people as best as they could especially after he killed Hershel in cold blood.

she could hear Maggie softly sob at the thought of her father dying, and she couldn't even say a simple goodbye to him. She held onto y/n's hand tightly while her eyes looked down at her wound gushing with blood.

she could see y/n  holding onto the black and white bandana wrapped sloppily around her left wrist, it was Daryl's he had given it to her just right before the governor and his men had shown up.

He had peppered kisses on her face and told her how happy he was that the flu had been gone and that they could finally be together again from the quarantine.

they had stopped at a river, to aid the wounds of Bob and Y/n because they couldn't survive without a fresh change of bandages and at least some water maybe even some food,

she shivered at the cold breeze trying to warm her body by blowing into her hands watching Maggie who had her maroon red sweater draped over her shoulders to fight some of the cold wind around them.

"you think we're gonna find him?" y/n asked while unwrapping the cloth on her wound and using the bandana in her pocket to wrap around her fleshy wound, 

"i need to find beth and glenn i won't forgive myself if i don't find them, Beth's all alone out there she's not meant for this world" Maggie admitted sulkily.

"i won't stop until i find them and that's a damn promise, until i find daryl and glenn and beth i'll travel these damn woods"

y/n spoke looking up at the trees surrounding them, she could hear bob let out a blubbered sigh as he had a smile on his face.

"stop being so damn happy" sasha remarked offering him a bottle of water watching as he took a sip, she dabbed his wound with some fresh water before putting a new piece of cloth on it,

"we're alive that means the others could be to"

y/n and maggie had both looked at each other at bobs words they knew the chances were slim but they weren't none.

"that's why you're smiling?" sasha asked patting his back once she was done with his bandages,

she sat on the log looking over at the river water hearing it splash softly against the bank,

she took a deep breath before replying to bob's comment, "what if they're not?" she asked resting her head against her hand looking as maggie was sharpening her knife against a rock.

"they are" y/n had bit back tying her shoelace and standing up to wipe some of the dirt off of her clothes with a slight wobble she sat down on the log to catch her from stumbling over looking over at bob to see him smile at her with a nod of his head.

"we'll find em, I'll find Daryl I know that for a fact" y/n spoke firmly propping her feet against the wood looking down at the water rushing beneath them, she was going to find them even if it killed her.

"You don't know that we need to focus on getting food, water and shelter for us and we need some antibiotics for not just you but bob"

Sasha hissed back tossing a strand of bandage in a pocket of her bag while looking over at y/n.

"What we need to do is find our friends! We need to make sure they're alright! And I don't need any damn medication I'm fine"

y/n demanded back watching Sasha roll her eyes and fold her arms at the pity of her idea.

"That's stupid y/n they're dead! No one could've survived that! They're all dead, even my brother!" Sasha yelled back watching y/n shake her head.

"You're wrong and I'm gonna prove it to you, I'm gonna prove that you don't know everything! And that there is something left of this world"

She could feel the hypocrisy of her own words, anything left of this world? Well anything that wasn't over loaded with flesh eating zombies and destroyed to utter pieces?

But that's not what she was talking about, she was talking about the fate and the miracle of it all,

she meant that there was some left, and when came a fate came a hope that it would come to them, that they would be able to seal their fate for good.

Even if it meant doing things they didn't want to.

-

once that first morning had came y/n was gone leaving nothing but a note in the dirt she went off,

it was stupid, she was foolish for even attempting something like this, with an empty shotgun a pistol with two bullets and a dagger.

she couldn't make it on her own.

That didn't mean she wasn't gonna try to make it on her own, she was stubborn. So stubborn she was willing to risk everything she had all for him.

she couldn't be around sasha and her hopelessness sopping around while she moped over mourning her friends that they were sure they hadn't even known if they lost yet.

she couldn't stand the fact of giving up on Daryl when he could still very much be alive and even if he wasn't she wanted to find his body so she could prove to herself.

When she promised she wouldn't stop looking for him it wasn't a lie 2 weeks later she had been looking for Daryl this time alone and in the woods,

y/n spent days tracking  but there wasn't any sight of him, no tracks nothing, not even a hint of a foot print left as a clue for her.

So now she spent her time hunting down Daryl like a hunter searching for its prey except she was nowhere near close to finding him.

she needed food, something to eat let alone she needed water before she passed out from the lack of water she'd had, if any she hadn't had water since she drank the last drops from her water bottle and that was a few days ago.

the streams were still dangerous to drink from unless the water had been boiled to kill the germs,

besides she didn't wanna take the risk of getting sick when she was alone and without medicine if she did get ill,

she had been to busy focusing on where Daryl could've been, wondering if he was hurt or dead was the only thing even circling inside her mind,

she had been carrying an empty shotgun and just one bag on her filled with nothing but two empty water bottles and a candy bar wrapper.

she had been walking up and down a train track looking for maybe any sign of a camp or maybe any sign of Daryl himself,

but she was tired. Exhausted from the fact she had been hunting him for the past 16 hours barely even getting any sleep during the night made her even more drowsy and the lack of sleep and malnutrition was starting to get to her.

she had almost sat down before seeing a string of cans catch her attention,

they rested on the forest floor, she stepped over them so she could get a better look of what the cans might've been surrounding.

She saw a scruffy tent with tears that had surely been sitting here for ages.

There was a leftover of snake skin rested on the side of the campfire just newly cooked at that she thought to herself before reaching down and rubbing her thumb in the ash,

an empty green water bottle filled with nothing but drops of water rested in the dirt

she looked away from it to see a trail of footsteps making a way out into the woods, she followed the boot marks out into a field taking a whiff of the fresh overgrown grass surrounding her,

she adjusted her backpack before taking a look around the forest, she looked down at the ground once more to see Not only were there combat boot marks but there was another trail one of a different shape of boots, probably a women's.

if this was Daryl then he must've found one of the others on the way out of the prison, or he might've found them lingering in the woods like y/n had been doing for weeks.

Luckily her wound had cleared up about after a week but she still needed some pain killers from the pain lingering in the woods,

she still had a slight limp from the pain but it hadn't bothered her that much to stop looking for him.

She adjusted her bag before looking up from the tracks, she could see a few walkers lingering in the field while a few of them laid dead, it looked like a golf course with the flags scattered.

She sprinted trying her best to stay quiet with the pain shooting up her leg as she reached a building tugging at the doors unsuccessfully almost like it had been locked she slipped out a lock picker,

the one daryl picked up for her on one of his supply runs so she could get shelter if she ever needed it.

she sighed as the walkers got closer praying that the door would unlock and that she wouldn't he stuck here with the damn mob

She had prayed that the door was just prop open and give her access to the building and sure as hell, this was one prayer someone must've heard or maybe it was just her fate or just maybe this is how it was supposed to go, maybe she was meant to survive in whatever was left of this world.

she saw about a dozen bodies on the floor some weren't walkers yet they were dead in their tents or sleeping bags he looked around to see bodies hanging from the ceiling with their obviously failed suicide attempt,

y/n ignored the bodies while shining her flashlight as she raised her pistol starting to clear room by room around the inside of the building

she looked at the small shop in the building

to see a body strung up and dressed like a mannequin being covered with a blanket it was making her shudder slightly looking at the two words written across her dirty dress.

she placed the blanket back, noticing a fingerprint in the dust that was on the counter, and a hanger that had been cleaned from dust, completely empty like the clothes had just been taken off, she rubbed some dust off herself before calling out softly.

Whether it was to find him or walkers there was no response, no snarling or no call back from anything not even the dead made a noise at her call out for something, with a deep breath she pulled out her knife to save her bullets or whatever was left in her gun.

she could see walkers scattered along the building, freshly dead with punctures to the head one was even beaten with a golf club, the club rested beside it as it was stained with the ugly colored blood she kicked it out of her way looking back down at the walker who had its head violently smashed in.

it was such an overkill the way it's brain was sprawled across the carpet of the room, she shined her flashlight down at the ground to look for any clues and with a slight widen of her eyes she picked up a rag, one that surely came from Daryl's pocket,

because it was the one y/n gave him while he dealt with the sick patients graves he tucked it into his pocket for emergencies.

like if he ever got injured like that time with the arrow piercing him in his torso, it would be a cloth for him to use to help prevent him from bleeding out if he ever had to amputate his own arm or leg or maybe even someone else's.

or even if he just has motor oil on his hands he'd use the cherry colored rag to wipe his hands clean away from the residue

she could see a soft blood splatter on it making her heart drop softly rubbing over the fresh blood.

she froze before burying her face into it so that she could weep and with a small sniffle she stood up and making her way into what looked like a bar, there had been glass shattered, tables flipped, and the smell of liquor was soaking up the room,

y/n slipped her bandana over her face to cover up the smell while she checked over the counter for any possible walkers but there was nothing except already fading corpses.

she reached down to run her hands over the carpet where she felt a piece of glass skim her fingers while she wiped the wet residue on her pants, she knew this meant a good sign that it meant he was somewhere nearby, hopefully just right outside.

This was a good sign, it meant she was right on his tracks, it meant she was so close to finding him, hopefully alive and well is what she prayed.

With her tracking skills she could tell train tracks were near , and well she could see just the edge of them from where she had stood in the forest,

yet she stopped noticing blood splattered onto a bush, she knelt down running her fingers over the blood before sighing aloud because it was human.

From the glimpse of her eye she could see a plastic bottle it's color shined in the sunlight making a reflection in her eye, it sat right by the bush the same color as the one at the campsite which meant that there was a chance he had been here to,

she looked down at the tracks imprinted in the dry soils and the leaves, she held onto her knife tight hearing soft snarling as she followed the trail out of the woods and to where the tracks were

she stopped at the edge of the forest where the track lingered , she could see a few walkers standing over shredded bodies, guts and blood spilt all over their faces and jaws as they were eating the people in the grass, the green was now a dark red the blades of grass covered in pools and droplets of blood.

she backed away with a gasp, seeing a boot that had looked familiar to her.

the walkers had come towards her, "no no no"

she covered her mouth backing away from the walkers almost falling back watching as they were so focused on grabbing and clawing at her so it could take a bite from her flesh.

She had stabbed them watching their bodies drop to the ground and the blood coming back to splatter onto her face.

she was on her hands and knees feeling the palm of her hands being coated with the blood that had spilled out onto the grass from the mutilated bodies,

"please god please don't let it be his" she begged picking up the boot praying that it wasn't his. Her fingers skimmed over the loose laces as her fingers slowly opened it up to look at the tag on the tongue.

she read the letter of his name ever so clearly in what was left of the tag, she had laid on her back feeling the wet dirt press against her back as the sky had started to sprinkle its own tear drops,

she could feel herself weep looking at the mutilated bodies, the walker who had been eating them dead with a stab wound to its head while she seemed to just stare blankly,

she couldn't tell who it was or who it had been because of walkers eating it raw down to the pure white bone left in the persons body.

she felt sick looking at the pool of blood beneath it, she watched as its guts had been spread out onto the grass and the walker had fresh human blood covering over his jaw and his snarling mouth.

She wanted to spill her guts, to let her vomit spew onto the grass because it felt like it was going to erupt from her just thinking about his corpse being rutted through like a dead animal.

she weeped into the crease of her elbow mumbling his name like maybe he could still hear her that maybe he was just standing right there watching from the corner of the woods,

she felt hopeless looking at the body and the boot she was clenching onto, she blamed herself for letting him leave if only she had just followed him then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe if she had've payed attention she would've never gotten shot and she'd be with him, she'd still be traveling to find shelter with him, but now it was all gone.'

Daryl was gone, she had left sasha, bob, and maggie, and she still had no sign of any others,

she could feel the rain pattering down on her as mud started to form around her,

she sat up dimly slipping her bag over her shoulder it was like she couldn't believe any of this was happening that maybe all of this was some cruel joke the universe was playing on her.

She stood up to look at the tracks, they were scattered and straggled definitely walker tracks she thought to herself and they had come from right were the boot was place, the boot placed in a pool of blood just behind walker tracks.

She thought he was dead, he was gone forever because he had turned into one of those things,

she wanted to be put in the ground so she didn't have to see the rest of the cruel world, she didn't wanna see the death and the destruction anymore she just couldn't.

Her hand trembled on the gun in her holster but she let it go, she let her hand fall down to the side of her torso looking up to see a few  birds fly over her head and feeling the wind gush through her hair she let out a soft sniffle wiping her tears.

She couldn't stop no matter how shitty this world was treating her she had to keep going even if that meant jumping to the conclusion he was dead,

she tied the boot onto her backpack wiping the wet blood from her hands onto her jeans leaving red smears along the fabric.

She had stepped to the edge of the woods pulling some moss and sticks from a tree tying them together into a cross leaving it where she had found his boot resting.

she patted the top of it before she had started to walk along the track mindlessly almost like she was a robot with one goal and it was to get the hell out of there, to get as far away as she could from any place near those damn corpses.

Or to get away from whatever was left of them.

her mind was like a zombie as her expression went blank and she trudged along the gravel in-between the bars of wood skimming over her feet with only one damn goal in her mind,

and that was to just survive.

she needed to find shelter soon something to settle her even if it was just for the night alone, even if she felt like her legs were folding into jello and she just wanted to drop down to the ground and cry.

-

she had cut through the woods to get off the tracks away from a hoard of walkers, she could see a wide road leading into a neighborhood, she sighed softly at the relief to see that it was pretty much a ghost town there.

She saw a house, it was still content, the bushes bloomed from the fall rain, and trees were sprouted around the sides of the house,

it had a white linen color to it, a nice two story house with pillars the color of fresh color of cotton, it's shutters matched the color of the paint on the house meanwhile the doors were the color of oak trees in the peak season of fall.

She had been polite to wipe her boots at the bottom of the white stairs before slowly stepping up them, she rested her hand flat onto her thigh taking in a deep breath before knocking at the door to alert her if there were any walkers,

she pulled out her knife clenching its black handle in her hand so tight she felt like she was cutting off her own circulation from the anxiousness striking her.

It was like the fear of dying next had been stalking her brain like a trail of walkers on her, it was like she could practically smell her fear wafting back into her face to alert her that it was still there.

She'd always been afraid of dying, she wanted to live out her life, she wanted a house and kids and maybe just a plain life with Daryl.

But she knew it would never happen and her wish for a normal life with him wouldn't ever come true especially after he had been consumed by walkers.

with no snarling and not even a peep from the house she knew it was blocked by something,

she pressed harder against the door only to hear the paint creak as it was opened, she had dropped her knife to see michonne standing in the doorway while rick and carl ate at the kitchen table,

y/n dropped her knife onto the deck without saying a word she froze with a tremble in her hands, she didn't know what to say. She didn't know if she had died or if she was just dreaming or maybe it was both and she was just a damn hallucination herself.

michonne had picked up y/n's knife resting it back into its holster and pulling y/n inside she sat her down at the kitchen table next to carl,

she had walker blood splattered on her face and clothes while her jeans were covered in human blood from the boot, her back and hair littered with mud from the rain that had washed over her as she laid in the grass mourning the loss of him.

She was silent watching Michonne pour her a glass of water while sitting across from her,

"you bit?" rick asked watching as his son frowned at the question, "no" she replied with a slight tremble in her voice, she tried to pick up the water glass but her hand had been shaking to much for her even to bring it even anywhere near her lips.

"Who's blood?" Rick asked they all watched a few tears slip down her face while she gestured to her backpack resting on the kitchen floor by her side, michonne picked it up,

her eyes softening once she saw Daryl's boot tied against her backpack, y/n had buried her face in her hands letting out soft weeps.

"i left maggie and bob and sasha to look for him and near the tracks i found his boot covered in blood and there wasn't a body but there were walker tracks coming from where his boot was"

her voice croaked more and more with each word she tried to spill out, it was like a bathtub just a drop away from overflowing and letting the waterworks loose all over the floor.

Michonne rubbed her back while Carl held onto y/n's hand rubbing the top of it with his thumb,

she had always been like an aunt to him even if they weren't related, "i should've gone after him at the prison but the smoke and i was shot i didn't know what to do" she spoke teary eyed while looking at rick whos hand was resting on his beard.

Carl rested his head against his shoulder and looked over at his father, He looked like he was about to cry once he realized he had surely lost yet another best friend,

"dad?" Carl asked but his father had a blank expression almost like he was dead, dead and numb from once again another loss.

"that can't be" he mumbled looking over teary eyed at the girl who was now toppling over the edge

"rick he's gone" she sobbed, "he's really gone!" she weeped aloud feeling Michonne wrap her arms around her shushing her to calm her down,

she tried to close her eyes and imagine that it was Daryl wrapping her in a warm hug, it's what he always did when she was sad, he did it whenever he could notice her sulking around.

It was his way of caring for her even if it was a silent hug he would always hum against her letting her take in the peace of it all.

She could hear a soft sniffle come from Rick and she realized that it wasn't Daryl holding her but yet Carl was, Carl was making sure that she hadn't fallen out of the chair from the shock of it all.

he had taken her hand pulling her up from the kitchen table, "c'mon" he spoke feeling y/n trail behind him as his hand was still connected to hers.

he opened a white bedroom door that had not a speck of blood on it, the bedroom had clothes on the floor but other than that it was tidy and clean, the dresser organized and the bed made,

Carl helped to unlace her boots setting them on the ground next to the bed, Michonne had stepped into the doorframe watching Carl care for his family.

"you look exhausted y/n you need to rest and maybe you could take a shower if your up for it"

Carl spoke looking over at Michonne who held her glass of water, she rested it onto the dark oak night stand next to her watching her nod with a quivered smile as she laid back onto the bed.

"me and michonne will get you some new clothes" carl had searched the draws before finding a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans, she watched him set them onto the bed while Michonne grabbed a wet rag from the bathroom to wipe her face.

"You need anything food, more water, medicine?" Michonne asked moving the girls chin so she could wipe the walker blood off of her,

"pain killers my leg has been killing me ever since that man nailed me in it probably cause I’ve been out there walking for damn miles" y/n spoke watching carl nod tipping his sheriffs hat before he stepped into the bathroom.

Carl had come back with half a bottle tossing them to her, she took two with the water before handing them back into Carls hand, michonne set the rag on the night stand folded into a neat square just to maybe help keep the room a tad bit peaceful.

"thank you"

y/n spoke looking at the both of them as she picked up the clean clothes, she ran her hands over the fabric of the jeans looking up with her puffy red eyes at them.

They could both see how badly she was struggling already, and it hadn't even been more than a few days since she lost him,

Carl frowned softly to which they both noticed when they looked at the expression on his face,

Michonne had wrapped her arms around Carl pulling him out of the room so y/n could get dressed and well so she could be alone with her mind.

once the door was shut y/n had stripped her bloody clothes murmuring a soft cry as she felt the gold necklace skim her bare chest,

it was the the necklace Daryl had grabbed for her on a supply run, it was a simple gold heart but she cherished it, she loved it and she never took it off, especially if now he was gone, she wanted to hold onto him forever.

She had slipped into the bed resting her head against the pillow case as she had stared at the grey paint of the wall, she felt tears stream down her face while her hand had fiddled with the necklace, her fingers tracing over the golden heart.

she stared down at her shaky fingers before sitting up on the bed, she wasn't sure if this was even real, she felt almost in some sort of movie or maybe she was just stuck in a bad nightmare praying that surely she was going to wake soon from the terror.

She sat up feeling a warm tear slip down her cheeks, her nails still had blood and dirt underneath them, she picked at the crevice of her nails while her eyesight had turned into such a blurry fog from her own tears spilling out once more.

Her throat felt raw from all the tears she had spilt, her lips trembled each time she felt the metal skim across her chest sending a shiver down her spine,

Her eyes felt puffy and her nose stuffy from all of the emotions building up inside of her, her mind felt enflamed with a longing, a longing for him just to be alive, for him to be here right now.

"what are we gonna do? go looking for a walker the odds of that are impossible?"

rick asked, his hands resting at the table while Carl was sitting in the living room doing his own sense of mourning over the dead hunter,

Carl could hear the conversation, hell he was listening into it to figure out maybe how he could help her and well his father to.

Carl liked Daryl. He was a good hunter, a good survivor and a good member of the team which is why he knew he had to speak his mind.

He had his sheriffs hat off while he rested his head against his knees his back pressed against the cushions of the seats on the couch while his feet rested on the decorative markings on the rug,

he could hear a sliver of his father's conversation while he was talking to Michonne.

"we can't rick, hell what if he's dead for actual what if he's not a walker and we're looking for a dead body that could've been burned or slaughtered!"

michonne spoke while she took a seat at the kitchen table pushing an empty glass bowl away from her.

"dad" carl had spoken up, brushing off his blue jeans and taking a seat next to michonne

he looked up at his father while he set his hat down onto the table, his foot bounced on the kitchen floor underneath the table while he was thinking of just how to ask if 'daryl was really dead'

"do you think he's dead y/n?"

he spoke not to his dad but yet y/n who had peeped into the doorframe to spy on their conversation and well so she could see when they left so she could sneak some supplies and just leave again

but she had been spotted by the teen boy who was waiting for an answer to his question.

he knew it was insensitive of him to even mention the fact Daryl could've have truly been dead but he was to afraid to ask his father.

Not because he didn't want the truth but he was afraid to hear it whenever it came down to one of their own men and family members.

y/n searched the kitchen until her eyes glanced at the kitchen counter where her gun and her holster had rested she reached for it but rick grabbed her hand making her sigh softly with a quake in her eyes as she looked at him.

"why do you need your gun?" he asked watching her push his hand away and wrap her holster around her waist and slipping her gun in after she checked the amount of bullets she had left.

"i can't sit her and just imagine he's out there as a walker so i'm going to find him and if he is a walker i'll put him out of misery, thank you for all you've done with the clothes and the pain killers but I need to get my bags and be on my way"

y/n spoke turning her back so she could walk up the stairs, Michonne stood up along with Carl to follow her up into the bedroom,

"are you out of your mind you'll get yourself killed!" carl lectured watching as y/n had started to pack her bags with fresh clothes and some medicine from the bathroom cabinet she slammed the door shut while tossing her bag onto her back.

"what if it were Rick or Judith out there left as a walker hmm? would you let em walk and be a mindless monster for the rest of their lives hell what if it were Lori!?"

y/n bittered as she tried to skim past the two but Michonne pushed out a firm but yet gentle hand to stop her she hadn't said anything yet instead she stared.

"you have to let him go, just like the rest of us are because he is god damn dead! Daryl is long dead and gone he's not coming back we'll never find his body because it's eaten or he's one of them and you’ll need to find a way to live with it instead of going on these stupid missions to find a rotting corpse!"

Rick announced slamming his hand down on the table but she hadn't even jumped at it, instead she looked down at the table and back up at him.

"do not ever say that again you hear me? You ever say anything like that again and I'll break your jaw I don't care who the hell you think you are you have no say in what the hell I do! Or where the hell I go!"

y/n bit bitterly pushing harshly through the two as she grabbed her last bag, she could see Rick still resting in the kitchen waiting to understand what was happening.

"wait" carl called after her looking over at michonne as he adjusted the bag on his back,

"we're not letting you leave alone y/n you're family you have been ever since we met and we can't just let our family face the world on its own"

michonne spoke as a small smile had formed on her face, she had an arm around Carl as he slipped on his sheriffs hat looking over at his dad who's eyes fluttered softly looking at the three of them.

"I do not need another person dying because of me, so please for my sake stay here!" She spoke frustrated watching as Michonne folded her arms while blocking her way to the front door.

"No, you'll get yourself killed and Daryl's also our family y/n so we can't let you sit her and get killed while your on your own!" Carl spoke grabbing at her arm to make her face him.

She could see the plea in his eyes to come with her, hell he was practically like a puppy dog begging with just his eyes and his expression on his face.

She nibbled at the inside of her cheek before making up her mind of what she was going to do, "we have 5 hours of daylight that's enough to cover that side of the tracks and we'll find shelter after that"

y/n spoke slipping out of the door without another question, she could hear her boots crack down onto the broken up asphalt of the neighborhood as she could hear their footsteps behind her.

She held onto her backpack straps,

she hadn't had hope of finding him alive but maybe a body or a sign is what she needed, even if he had been gutted from the walkers and even if he had turned into one of them she needed to see it, she needed to be sure that he was  really gone.

She needed to understand that he wasn't ever coming back to her even if he was a damn flesh eating monster she needed to know,

she wouldn't know how to live with herself if she hadn't tried looking, if she hadn't kept her promise of finding him.

Even if it took her years or the rest of her life she would look for him, she would pray for him to turn up until she was god damn blue in the face.

-

she sat in-front of the vehicle while her shotgun rested in her lap, she tossed her head back softly against the metal as she looked up at the stars, they had taken a break from the tracks because of walkers flooding them and well because it was to dark.

She wished that they could've kept going, she would've if it weren't for Carl and well the others, she'd be putting them at an even greater danger.

they had found a vehicle, a van that carl was resting inside or while the others sat around each other silently, she closed her eyes for just a split second before looking over at michonne,

"i hope i find him Michonne even if he is a rotted corpse I still need to find him" she admitted looking back up at the sky, michonne frowned softly before taking a sip of her almost empty water bottle,

she didn't wanna tell y/n the odds of finding his body, the odds would be even harder if he had turned into a damn walker,

instead she rubbed her shoulder closing her water bottle while she looked at rick,

he had his pistol in his lap while he was trying not to doze off from the lack of sleep he'd gotten in the past few days, even when he went unconscious from his wounds and malnutrition.

michonne offered y/n a granola bar she had found in one of the cabinets at the house but y/n pushed it away with the palm of her hand,

"you need to eat" michonne insisted but she watched y/n tuck the bar back into her hand pushing it away once more.

"i don't need it save it for carl or yourself i'll be okay" she tried to assure michonne who adjusted her bag on her shoulder while she crossed her feet to get some sort of comfort,

"sleep while i take watch?" michonne asked watching y/n decline the offer propping up her shotgun in her lap, "nah i'll be okay seriously" she spoke with a slight nag in her voice.

she needed them to believe she wasn't weak because she lost Daryl, hell she was trying to convince herself she was okay, that she wasn't turning weak from the pity his death had caused.

"Michonne can I ask you something?" Y/n asked turning to see the woman nod, y/n licked her lips clean before forging out her question.

"Did you kill him? The governor?" y/n asked while the loop of Hershel's blood spewing had seemed to flood back inside her mind.

"he's dead, killed him with my sword"

Michonne spoke, she took a pause and went to add onto her sentence but the sound of roaring of trucks interrupted her and the flashing of headlights as they slowed down just a few feet away from where the three were sitting,

rick covered his eyes from the bright light as he was still groggy and lost on what the hell was happening and why he was awoken so sudden.

y/n aimed her shotgun up at the men who stepped out of their cars, michonne pulled out her sword, and well rick pulled out his pistol watching y/n take a closer step to the men, they dimmed their headlights,

she watched the man in front adjust the stiff leather jacket he had on eyeing y/n and her gun she had aimed at his head if she were the pull the trigger it would've blown his brains out onto the ground behind him,

"who the hell are you?" she asked watching him take a step forward towards her yet she didn't move she froze resting in the same position.

"gimme the gun or i'll shoot your brains out right here right now" he spoke calmly but yet bitterly, a clear threat that meant he was playing around, it kind of reminded her of Daryl.

He reminded her of how tough he was.

she watched one of his men place a pistol to the back of her head, she hesitantly dropped her shotgun to his feet with a sour expression she watched a smile grow on his face as he picked it up and tossed the strap onto his back.

"that goes for all of you give me the weapons or we shoot her" he ordered at the others watching their weapons being slid across the asphalt to his feet,

he picked them up and tossed them to the men behind him watching as they placed them into the back of the pickup truck.

"on your knees" he ordered her watching as she licked her lips clean staring back with black pupils as wide as a predator,

almost like she was one of those damn walkers.

she hadn't moved instead she stood there without a doubt she could feel the shaky hand remove from the back of her head pulling the barrel away so the man behind her could kick her down onto the asphalt of the road,

she could feel his boot pressing into her as he stripped her off her backpack and patted her down to look for anymore weapons she might've been carrying,

her face scraped against the scattered rocks across the road, she could feel them scratching and nipping at her skin.

she let out a soft hiss as she squirmed softly trying to get her stuff back, "that's mine asshole!"

she yelled at him feeling a boot press down onto her head while he dumped her bag out onto the road to see if he could find anything useful.

a few scraps of clothing, an empty water bottle, daryl's leather belt, and a dirty rag covered in her old blood from her gunshot wound,

she watched him pick up the belt using it to tie her hands back while he untied the boot from her bag.

"that's not yours prick!" she spoke spitting down at his boots only feeling her face being pressed into the asphalt even more, "i'm gonna kill you if you touch them you hear me" she huffed,

he gestured for his men to let her up and to which she was yanked by her hair up from the ground,

he rubbed a few rocks from her face before punching her clean across the face hearing a wince and thump before moving onto the next members of her group.

they patted down the others to, and one of the men had even yanked Carl from the front seat of the car pulling him through the rolled down glass,

y/n had a gun placed to her head while he was speaking with the leader of her group,

"we want everything you have before we kill you" he spoke with a soft laugh pulling up y/n and placing her against the hood of his car,

"well i don't know we might not kill this lil pretty thang" he taunted skimming over the side of her cheek feeling her leg kick back at him.

it only had made him force her head into the metal before letting her slam down back to the ground feeling the boot back to pressing her down,

she looked at rick who cocked his head slightly as his hands were forcefully held behind his back.

he hadn't looked an ounce of scared and if he was there was no damn well of telling, hell none of them had even a drop of fear on their face.

Especially y/n she hadn't even quivered or jumped when the gun had been placed in her face or even when she was forced to the ground.

she could feel the headlights so bright in her eyes while she looked at Rick, they were watching his men tear up the van taking whatever 'supplies' they had last,

it wasn't much maybe a few empty water bottles and a few cans of whatever rick had grabbed from the cabinets.

"search em just in case they have anything" he spoke watching his men push her's to the ground forcing their bodies against the asphalt while their hands patted them down,

y/n could feel her body being patted down once again as the man had reached into her shirt feeling around her bra to see if she had stuffed anything in it, with no luck he moved on to her jean pockets groping and practically pulling the fabric to look for anything.

she could feel a soft tear slip down her cheek as rick noticed her discomfort squirming to try and wiggle his way free so that he could pull the man's hands away from her, "that's enough!" he yelled as his head was pressed down into the ridgid rocks of the road,

"c'mon can't we keep this one alive joe we ain't see a woman in almost a damn year!" the man spoke to his leader lifting her up by the collar of her shirt looking at the dried blood on her face,

"fuck you i'm not you're pet asshole"

she hissed back feeling as her body was tossed back against the ground, she rolled onto her back to gasp for air feeling the boot collide with her side,

"you think you're brave hittin a women huh c'mon i'm right here!" rick shouted wiggling against the rope of restraints on his wrists hoping that they would take the hint of leaving her alone.

they had ignored his comment however instead they picked her back up again slamming her against the hood of the car tossing her body in the grass next to the road.

she could see stars and her world seemed to shut down, it seemed to fade into the dark like all the light had been sucked away from her and she was lift in just a black haze of nothing.

carl winced looking at her body as it thumped against the dirt and she rolled onto the ground,

her head starting to pool with blood as she laid almost lifeless in the overgrown weeds next to the road, the man had now pulled out his gun placing it in all three of their faces.

He couldn't help but stare at her, he hadn't even cared that there was a gun to his head instead he hadn't looked at the barrel but through the gap in his legs to see if she was even moving.

"should we keep the girl?" he watched one of his men approach the unconscious girl waiting for a reply as he held her up by her head

but he looked at his leader who shook his head and gestured him to drop her back onto the ground.

"let the damn walkers get her not worth our time" joe spoke smiling as he traced the barrel of the gun over Carl and Michonne's faces.

Rick shook his head at the leader as he whispered something under his breath, he could hear three gunshots go off as he felt blood splatter onto his face, he froze looking to see Daryl with only one damn boot and blood covered all over him.

"You want a pick?" Joe asked Daryl watching as he held up his crossbow aiming it at him, he hadn't let his guard down instead he placed the gun even further against the temple of ricks forehead.

"No I don't want a pick, I want ya to let them go" Daryl hissed back moving his crossbow so that one of the men in the gang would freeze.

"they're good people don't kill 'em" he huffed aloud catching a glimpse of his girlfriend laying in the grass making him want to put an arrow through his brain right then and there.

"What did you do? Hmm?!" He directed his eyes towards y/n who was sprawled out and looked dead in the grass with her head wound.

"you like our work on her? Just some rando" one of the men spoke up watching as his brows furrowed harshly and let out a grunt.

"She ain't no damn rando! that's y/n the one I was looking for, did ya kill her?" He asked watching as Joe turned away from Rick resting his gun back into his holster as he folded his hands.

"Find out your damn self" Joe spoke, and these would he his last words unless you count screams of agony because Rick had taken care of joe by biting the fleshiness of his neck out watching as he had screamed and gripped onto his neck and watched as as he bled out onto the asphalt,

rick let out a breath as daryl fired a last shot at the man aiming y/n's shotgun at them, he watched the body fall to the ground before he picked her up.

he weeped into the corner of her neck feeling some of her blood run down his hands from a wound from the spot she had been hit on the head

he looked up as Carl was untying the others and gathering the keys from the dead man behind him,

he started up the truck watching as the two others slipped y/n into the back of the truck, Michonne and Rick had sat up front while Daryl sat in the back.

Mostly because he didn't wanna leave her, and if this really were her last short bit of moments he wanted to be there to watch them, he wanted to be there to tell her everything was okay.

She was propped up in his lap, the fresh apple red color staining over the dried blood on his hands,

he was breathing softly looking down at her and back at his boot that had been resting next to her bag. Covered in dried blood and it's laces undone.

"wanna explain to me what the hell happened? who the hell were those men?" rick asked shakily watching Daryl's eyes flick up to look at him.

"First off after the whole prison ordeal I was with Beth and well we got separated and I came across a group of men fighting walkers but they were all bit and when I went to kill the walker it got my boot and well a few of the men in that group I found after I lost Beth went huntin and got separated from em and i came back to find this mess"

he spoke rubbing the top of y/n's head planting a soft kiss on a patch of skin while he clenched her frail hand, she still felt warm but her fingertips seemed to have their warmness torn away.

Almost like they were tips of an icicle,

"She movin at all back there?" Carl asked turning around while he adjusted the hat on his head, he watched Daryl shake his head while Carl sighed and flipped back around in his seat.

"She's breathing, that's all I can say but other than that she's out cold"

-

They had set her down back at the houses, because they couldn't carry an unconscious girl out onto the tracks to be left vulnerable.

And well if she did die she'd deserve a proper burial, because she was one of them. She was their family.

She had a blanket over her while she was propped up in a bed her head sunk into the pillows while Daryl had never left her side,

he held her hand the entire time not even letting loose his grip when his finger started to ache and practically beg him to stop.

However it wasn't the only thing begging him to get some relief but yet rick begged him to take a break so that he could get some rest.

He knew Daryl wouldn't properly take care of himself until she woke up, and the question was if she was going to wake up, and when?

However even if he tried he wouldn't be able to sleep, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep knowing that she was injured all because of him,

this was his fault, well that's at-least but his brain was telling him, it was blaming him for all this. Blaming him for ever leaving her behind in the first place, and here he was paying the price.

She had been out for two days, two full days, it seemed to give Carl a sense of deja-vu as he looked at the passed out women, it made him think of the way his father had been when he got injured.

The way he was so damn scared to loose him, so he surely knew how Daryl was feeling, he could practically see and feel it himself while he looked down at her body laying there so still.

It would even be a miracle if she woke up,

and which it was a miracle because Daryl had tears running down his face as he heard a soft voice call out to him, it was a soft mumble before she closed her eyes back again from the bright sunlight peaking through the windows.

He would ask questions later for how did she even find Rick or how she found his boot, but for now he just planted a kiss onto the top of his head while wrapping his arms around her, "thank god" he mumbled against her before he pulled away latching himself onto her hand to keep a grip.

"Don't leave please" she spoke watching as he shook his head, "no no I'm gonna stay with ya don't worry" he spoke planting yet again another kiss onto the top of her head.

She tried to sit up to which she felt dizzy, she felt so nauseous that she immediately fell back against the cushions of the pillows feeling her back sink into the foam of the mattress below her that was dressed in a delicate white set of cotton sheets.

"your dead" she mumbled at the realization, this was all some crazy fever dream she supposed, maybe she was the one who died along with him, and that's why she was finally able to see him.

"No, I'm alive look feel me y/n I'm alive" instead of reaching out to feel him she backed away using her hands to crawl to the other side of the bed.

"RICK!" She called hoping that maybe this would prove if she was actually in real life, that she hadn't dropped dead from those men.

She could hear the clatter of boots up the stairs as Rick held out his gun letting out a thankful sigh to see that she was very much awake and well.

He holstered his gun looking over at Daryl, "I'm not dead!" Daryl spoke defensively watching as Rick poked him for the jokes of it.

The lines seemed blurred again as her vision seemed to switched her eyes grew heavy and her head started to ache like she was on one of those spinning carnival rides.

"Jesus christ don't scare us like that!" Carl spoke pushing his father out of the way so he could get a better glimpse of the confused y/n.

"y-your boot" she mumbled watching as he pulled her bag from underneath the bed and gently untied his laces off of the strap and placing it in his hand.

For now he had found some cheap torn up shoes found on one of the walkers bodies, they were a pair of light brown leather boots with scruffed and cut up laces in them.

She stood in the corner of the room her back pressed against the wall while her hands pressed flat against it like she was a damn statue just frozen in place from the confusion in-front of her.

"Am I dreaming?"

She asked looking over at Michonne who stepped into the room tucking her sword away once she realized there wasn't any danger around.

"No y/n you're very much awake right now" Michonne assured her watching as she ran into his arms practically taking him down.

With a grunt he gripped back placing a set of soft kisses along the top of her head while he rubbed her back softly, he could feel her tremble while her tears seeped into the fabric of his shirt.

Her nails clawed at his back surely tearing a hole in the fabric from how hard she was holding onto him for the fear he would disappear if she ever let go,

She closed her eyes to take in the moment at the realization that this wasn't Carl or Michonne or Rick holding her but yet Daryl,

this was Daryl caring for her when she was sad, when she was so sad she thought the world was going to consume her whole like a California earthquake shaking the grounds of San Francisco.

the rest of the group hadn't said another word instead they shut the bedroom door to give them their own set of privacy while they made their way downstairs back into the kitchen.

"Sasha said I was crazy for even trying to look" y/n spoke feeling as Daryl placed her against the bed so that he could coo her to get some rest especially when she was still fresh with a head injury.

She knew she was right all this time, and she had been so proud of sticking through with herself, so proud that she had finally been able to rest against him while the heat of his body kept her warm.

"maybe just a little but Beth believed in finding you and her sister" he spoke rubbing her shoulder.

she took in the scent of the woods on him, she could smell the moss and tree bark lingering on him along with the smell of campfire smoke.

"I didn't know what to do after I thought you died Daryl, I just turned my mind onto survivor mode and I went looking for shelter" she admitted feeling guilty at the fact she just skipped over him.

"It's what we have to do, we can't just control and wait around for some miracle" she could feel the words sink into her heart making it feel heavy almost like it was ready to sink to the pit of her gut.

She understood that this wasn't a miracle but their fate, that they were supposed to live, they were the walking dead and they were the true survivors.

[pianokantzart]

Why not both?

When we first see Peach, she is in the middle of a tactical meeting regarding Bowser's imminent invasion. She spends much of her time trying to assure her people that she will do everything in her power to keep them safe.

After declaring her plan to leave in the morning for The Jungle Kingdom to enlist the help of The Kong Army, Peach walks away from the meeting unattended. Then along comes Mario: breaking and entering, actively running from guards, making a beeline for Peach while excitedly shouting "PRINCESS!" He 100% should have expected to be suplexed.

After rightly slamming Mario to the ground like a sack of beans, Princess Peach looks down at him with wide eyes, as curious as she is startled. The moment Mario catches his breath he tries to scramble back to his feet and ask for help before he is promptly dog-piled by the guards.

At this point, Peach realizes 2 things: 1. This cute guy means no harm. He's clearly in some sort of trouble. 2. He... kind of looks like a human? She orders his release. As Mario stands back up she gets a better look at him, and becomes giddy once she sees her suspicions are confirmed.

"He���s a human! I mean, you are a human, right? It’s just... you’re so small.”  He’s a human alright, just a particularly short one. Mario is confused by this reaction, and is a little annoyed by all the touchiness (especially the hat stealing.)

But there's no time to focus on that right now, Peach wants to know where he came from. Mario doesn’t waste a second explaining his situation. Time is of the essence.

M: “Me… and my little brother Luigi, we fell down this pipe! And now he’s lost somewhere… in The Dark Lands!” P: “Then it’s only a matter of time before he’s captured by Bowser.”

Mario visibly tenses up at this. He’s heard of Bowser from Toad, who described him as “the most evil, wretched creature alive.” Peach reassures Mario that she’s on a mission to stop him, and Mario demands to be brought along.

 “This guy’s a lunatic. A psycho. He will eat you for breakfast. He won’t even notice it, probably, because you’re very… very… small.”

When I first saw the movie, this line made me worry for Peach’s characterization, but I was relieved to see that this is the first and last time she talks down to Mario like this. In hindsight, her behavior makes sense: Mario doesn't know what he’s up against or what his odds are, and Peach– who has no idea who Mario is or what he’s capable of– is trying let him know where he stands in the grand scheme of things... that there is no shame in standing down. But Mario is not going to sit around while his brother is in danger, not in a million years.

“Make fun of me all you want, but you’re going to help me find my brother.”

Mario goes on the offensive. He doesn’t back out, but instead doubles down, just short of making a direct threat. Peach, being made of equally stern stuff, glares back at him, giving him one final chance to rethink his position.

Mario doesn’t rethink his position, but he does take a moment to remember that he is talking to a princess, so he tries to tone it down a bit by ending his sentence with “please?” 

Peach smiles a little... like she’s impressed, but doesn’t want to admit it.  This guy has spirit, but she doesn’t know whether he’s got the skills to back it up. So she takes Mario to the training course so she can truly see what he’s made of.

When the course is laid out, Mario is wide-eyed and amazed. When Peach performs the obstacles, he gives her due praise, and questions how he himself is going to be physically capable of pulling off the same thing. Through this short interaction, Mario accidentally proves that though he is impulsive (made worse by his fear for Luigi), he is still capable of recognizing and respecting the skills of others, and has some ability to understand his own limitations... to an extent.

Mario is introduced to powerups and fed the super shroom. But despite his newfound size, jumping ability, and confidence, he blows his first run of the obstacle course right off the bat. Peach says nothing to mock or demean him, but merely gives him a bit of advice about how powerups work, and encourages him to try again. So, Mario downs another mushroom, and give it another shot. Another point in Mario’s favor is that does not complain beyond the first mushroom he was forced to eat. For hours he has his shit kicked in by this brutal, ruthless obstacle course while he’s continually eating mushrooms to the point of vomiting. If he was any less of a man he would decide to try and find Luigi on his own after the millionth try, or at least attempt to argue down the severity of the course, but he doesn’t. This is the ultimatum he’s been given, this is what he needs to do, so he straightens his cap and tries again... and again... and again...

... and to Peach’s credit, she stays with him almost the entire night, and only goes to sleep when she collapses where she stands. You can see her getting more and more endeared to Mario, offering occasional emotional support, and rooting for him the whole way through. Their first interaction was a little rocky, but the more Peach sees of Mario, the more she likes what she sees. 

By dawn Mario has almost mastered the obstacles, he just got a little too sure of himself 10 feet from the finishing line. Despite the technical failure, Peach knows one thing for certain: She really wants this funky little weirdo who broke into her house to go on a road trip with her.

CONCLUSION: Mario and Peach are cut from the same cloth. Mario is a bit more brash and impulsive than Peach (which makes sense. He's not a royal, he's a blue collar worker from Brooklyn), but they’re both intrepid, big hearted, and willing to do anything for those they love. Furthermore, they are essentially going after Bowser for the same reason: their families, who they spent their entire lives loving and protecting, are being threatened.

So yeah, kindred spirits I’d say!

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Always a Rangers Fan to Me - Frank Castle x Reader

@hellskitchenswhore asked for a Frank fic based on She's Always A Woman by Billy Joel and I wanted to write an eloquent fic weaving love and passion between reader and Frank. Instead, it came out as this dumpster fire. Based very much in my own personal love of hockey and how the only thing wrong with Frank Castle is that he's a Rangers fan. It's really dumb, please look away...

Reader's pronouns aren't mentioned.

Warnings: Some arguing, pet names like sweetheart, swearing because it's Frank, reader is a Pittsburgh Penguins fan. Did not really proof read this.

WC: 650

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

“You’re a real fucking piece of work Frank, you know that? Going through my things and then getting mad about what you find?!” you shout

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, what do you want me to say? I was looking for that hoodie you stole from me and I found it. It was an accident that I found it, but you have some serious fucking explaining to do.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

He throws the object that started the whole argument on the floor at your feet.

“Yes you goddamn do.”

The crumpled up Sidney Crosby Pittsburgh Penguins jersey lays like a weight between the two of you. It's your most prized possession, something you kept hidden from him. But now the cat was out of the bag.

“No.” you reply, firmly

“What?”

“I said no.” you repeat

“You are so goddamn stubborn sometimes.”

“Oh like you’re one to talk.”

“At least I don’t fucking lie to the people I love.” Frank responds

“It wasn’t a lie… it was a half truth. To impress you. When we first met.”

“You told me you were a Rangers fan.”

“Nooo. I said that I was a hockey fan and had been to some Rangers games since moving to New York.”

He just stares you down with those signature brown eyes, nostrils flaring, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry. For not telling you.” you say, looking like a little kid who got caught stealing cookies before dinner.

“S’okay baby” he says, his face softening as he stretches out a hand to invite you closer to him

“Pfft that I don’t believe.” you say with an eye roll

“Goddamnit. Here.” He kicks the jersey towards you and turns to stomp away “You and your goddamn flightless bird team…”

His heavy boots hit the hardwood with every step, reverberating through the apartment as he goes to open the window and sit on the fire escape.

“Frankie…” your pitiful voice stops him in his tracks “Can I have a kiss please. Before you go?”

He sighs. He can’t say no to you.

“Course sweetheart.”

He turns back to you, your soft smile practically melting his heart. But he’s known you long enough to not be fooled, the devilish glint in your eyes telling another story. He steps towards you cautiously. He’s just a few steps from you when your expression shifts, looking at the precious item of yours he so unceremoniously threw on the floor.

“Mmm nevermind, I’m still a little mad at you.”

“Jesus… Wait why the hell are you mad at me? You’re the one who lied.” he asks

“Yeah but you went through my stuff and yelled at me over nothing really…”

He sighs. “You’re right it’s kinda nothing. It’s just some dumb sports teams.”

“Yeah and I mean your team sucks, so you really don’t have any ground to stand on.”

There’s the twist of the knife he knows you can’t resist.

He wants to make a snide remark back about how the Rangers made the playoffs this year and the Penguins didn’t, but he refrains, the sad look in your eyes stopping him from saying something else dumb. He opts to close the gap between you instead, picking up the jersey just before wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you sweetheart. And I always will. Even when the playoffs come around and the Rangers beat your dumb bird team again.”

“Oh wow how are the Rangers gonna win? Is Trouba gonna cheap shot all my good players again so they win against basically a minor league team because they aren’t good enough to win for real?” you retort

“Oh I’ll show you cheap shot.” he says with a smirk

And with that statement he picks you up in one motion to carry you to bed, to settle the argument there.

Sorry this was so self indulgent and dumb.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Child P2

Media TMR

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smut

Part 2 to recent please! I loved it so much! Great twist!

I made the most of my time in the facility, I told the boys everything I needed to and we all agreed. We had to get Y/n out of this place and our little girl, it's not safe for them here. I wanted to leave as soon as possible but given Y/n had only just given birth... the idea of forcing her to run around the desert just seemed cruel and not safe for her or our baby. 

But we waited and stocked up, the boys stealing supplies every time they went anywhere in the facility packing bags. We stocked clothes, food, blankets, medical supplies and anything else that may be useful to us. Hiding it all under the beds in the room. But we knew we didn't have long so as soon as Y/n was well enough we got ready, we all returned after dinner like nothing was wrong, Y/n fed our little girl as we all dressed into thick layers and stuffed out bags as well as we could making sure they where full but not too heavy. I took our little girl as Y/n got ready and we made sure everyone knew the plan of escape,

"You'll be okay?" I asked,

"Yeah," she nodded as she slipped on her jacket I could hear her being unsure in her voice, 

"Are you sure?" I asked nervously, "You did just push a whole baby out of you..."

"I know, but she can't stay here."

"But I want you to be safe too, I care barely for you to get hurt just to get us out of here." 

"I'll be okay I promise," she says giving me a little kiss,

"Okay," I nodded, "I.. uhh... I forgot we never really talked about it,"

"About what?"

"A name for her,"

"Oh... I guess we didn't" she chuckled, "I had an idea for her,"

"Oh?"

"Melody,"

"Melody? Awww little melody,"

"She's always giggling so sweetly I thought it suited her,"

"Melody. I love it," I told her giving Melody's head a little kiss and then kissing Y/n,

"You guys ready?" Minho asks,

I looked at Y/n and she nodded holding my hand, so I squeezed it and held Melody close to me, "Yeah. We're ready, let's get the bloody hell out of here," 

The scorch was long and at times seemed endless, we lost friends on the way but it was nice to finally arrive at the right arms camp, at first they were tentative about our arrival but when they found out who we were. Apparently, we were not the only ones to escape WCKD. They tested us gave us warm clothes and welcomed us in with jobs helping to break others out. They found I wasn't immune and it was all a bit of a shock.

"...what?" I gasped,

"Newt was in the control group, one of the non-immunes thrown in to keep the experiment as structured as possible," Mary explained,

"...I see," I nodded, 

"Newt-" Y/n held my arm and I squeezed her as tight as I could,

"I'll go."

"what? newt you can't go!" she protested,

"If I'm not immune... it's only a matter of time before I get infected before I become dangerous, lose my mind and start hurting people..." I explained,

"But-"

"It's not safe for me to stay. I could infect everyone in the safe haven. I could infect you..." I explained, "I could infect Melody, I could snap and hurt her or you." 

"Newt... you can't leave,"

"I would never live with myself if I hurt you or Melody,"

"I know but, there must be another way."

"What? chain me up? watch me turn? make me beg for a bullet in my head... That's not fair on you,"

"You can't leave, Melody needs you. You're her father she needs you here. And I need you Newt."

"... I can't risk hurting you,"

"There must be a way, Please Mary isn't there anything we can do?" Y/n begged her, 

"...We can." she nodded, "Someone would have to sacrifice their blood to be used for a cure, to keep the virus at bay. But... He'll always need more."

"There, see. It'll be fine," Y/n says almost crying,

"I can't ask you for that, I can't ask anyone for that..."

"You're not asking." Minho spoke up, "We will. All of us."

"I can't ask you guys to-" I began,

"It's done." Minho snapped,

"It's decided Newt... we can't just let you leave," thomas explained,

"Melody needs you man, so does Y/n, and so does the rest of us," Fry explained, 

"Face it Newt the only way you're getting out of his camp is if you've taken us all down first, cause there ain't a chance in hell we're letting you leave," Minho warns, 

"Thank you," I nodded hugging him,

As I finished up my daily medical treatment, I let out a deep sigh of relief. The camp was quiet and peaceful, with only a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. As I headed across the camp, I felt a sense of calmness wash over me.

That feeling of calmness quickly turned into joy when I saw Y/n sitting by the water with Melody. They were both engrossed in Y/n was showing Melody the waves, and her face lit up with excitement.

As I approached them, my smile grew wider. I could see the delight in their eyes, and it made me happy to see them so happy. Without wasting any time, I walked towards them, and Y/n looked up and greeted me with a friendly smile.

I picked Melody up, holding her on my hip. She was fascinated by everything around her, and I loved watching her explore the world with wide eyes. But she let out her happy little giggles as soon as I had returned to her, 

I felt a sense of contentment. It was moments like these that made my treatments worthwhile.

"There she is! there's my beautiful girl." I cooed peppering her little redhead with kisses, 

"She missed you," Y/n laughed as I sat down beside her,

"Awww she missed her daddy?" I cooed, "You are too sweet, far too adorable to even be real my little angel." 

"How are you feeling?" Y/n asked resting her head on my shoulder,

"Ehh tried. groggy. Like I would sell my soul for bacon."

"Really?" She giggled,

"Yes I would," I nodded,

"Look out Melody, Daddy gets too hungry he might trade you for your weight in bacon," Y/n laughed, making Melody giggle of course,

"umm... that would be a lot of bacon," I joked bouncing Melody on my legs, "No no Daddy wouldn't trade you for bacon, I wouldn't trade my baby girl for anything," I smiled, "How's mummy?" I asked kissing Y/n's head, 

"Fine,"  

"Fine?"

"Fine," she shrugs

"Alright, and I checked with Fry on the way to the medical tent apparently it's clam soup for dinner,"

"oooh exciting," she chuckled, 

"You see Vince today?"

"Mhm," she nodded, "Another month he says till ships ready," 

"Alright, give this little one a chance to get a bit bigger before we head off," 

"Umm, I think she'll like our new home,"

"I think she will too, I think we all will," I smiled giving her lips a soft kiss. 

I smiled as I lay in the little bed, we had taken this old room still mostly fact from the ruins around camp even if we had put a tent tarp over the broken roof I changed from some welding on the ship today into just my boxers and my shirt and crawled into bed, Y/n changed too into her panties and vest top I admit... as she stood soothing melody to sleep I couldn't not look. 

"say goodnight to Daddy," Y/n smiled as she brought Melody over,

"Aww goodnight Melody, sleep tight little one," I cooed giving her a cuddle and a kiss before Y/n took her back,

"Goodnight sweet girl, sleep tight," she cooed settling Melody into her own little crib bed, she waited a little till we were sure she was sleeping before Y/n came and crawled into bed beside me, "May I?" 

"Of course, you can," I smiled,

She rested her head on my chest, wrapped her leg around mine and I held her close, running my fingers through her Y/H/Chair. We lay together in a serene silence, relishing the warmth of each other's embrace. The gentle rhythm of our breathing filled the air, creating a soothing melody that lulled us into a state of deep relaxation. Our hands were intertwined as if we were afraid to let go of each other. We listened closely to Melody's soft, sleepy whimpers, which added to the peaceful atmosphere of the room. It was a moment of pure contentment, where time stood still, and we were lost in the bliss of each other's company.

I heard Y/n giggle on my chest so I looked down at her and saw her as her Y/e/C eyes fluttered up to meet my face, "It's funny..."

"Oh? Enlighten me?" 

"We have a little baby,"

"we do, the most beautiful baby in the world,"

"And yet... we've never,"

"Ohh..." I gulped as I picked up what she was hinting at,

"No uhh we haven't ever, why?"

"Well... I've been thinking,"

"Mhm?"

"Maybe as you're getting so much better, and we are leaving for safe haven soon... do you think maybe we could?"

"We could actually?"

"I'd likle that very mcuh,"

"Ummm so would I," I growled, stroking her hair a little more and sliding my hand down her waist, "Do you think maybe..." I smirked,

"Yes, newt?"

"Would you want another baby?" I whispered, 

"...I would," she blushed, "Would-"

"Yes!" I yelped maybe a little louder than I should, "Give Melody a little brother,"

"I think she'd like that,"

"Humm" I bit my lip, "I do too." 

"You think maybe..." she giggled,

"Tonight?" I whispered as hushed as I could even if I was beyond excited,

"Tonight." she nodded, 

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she nodded,

I didn't hesitate I pulled her in for a kiss moving her to lay on top of me our stomachs touching as we kissed, she kissed back as hungry and passionately as me doing our best as we made out to keep our moans low to not wake melody or anyone else in camp. "God I love you Y/n," I groaned as we pulled back throwing my shirt off before my hands slowly moved down her chest she nodded so I grabbed her breasts fondling and squeezing them as I kissed her again, Slowly I turned us over so she laid on her back, "Are uhh are you sure you're ready?"

"I am." she smiled before she slipped off her shirt leaving her in her little blue panties,

"Let's make a baby..." I growled kissing her and stroking all over her body she did the same to me and it wasn't long before my hands where on her panties and we both knew we had to keep going, "Can I?"

"Yes," she gasped excitedly, 

 "I love you so much," I groaned tugging down her panties to leave her naked on the bed, and I then kissed down her stomach pushing her thighs apart she giggled as I eagerly kissed down and began kissing her clit, 

"Ohh Newt!" she cooed stroking my hair as I kissed and licked, 

"I've missed this so much" I cooed slipping my fingers inside her for a few thrusts her having to put the pillow over her face to stop her moaning for screaming for me, I pulled back and sat on my knees I tugged down my boxers and stroked my shaft a little, "Just a little please?" I asked her and she nodded moving and taking my cock inside her mouth softly sucking and bobbing her head, "Ooohhh Y/n... Bloody hell-" I cursed before I pushed her back the meer idea of finally having sex with her was to much and just her sucking was getting me to the edge, 

"... I can't wait any longer." I groaned, "Now I get to use this?" I smirked as I held my base giving myself a stroke and a squeeze teasing her a little 

"Umm I have been looking forward to it" she giggled, "I'm sure I'll enjoy this far more than I enjoyed how Melody was convinced,"

"Ohh I guarantee it," I cooed, before I slowly and carefully pushed inside "Oh my god. Oh my god.Oh my god." I groaned trying to stay quiet as I felt her, my god! I never felt something so good, so warm, so tight, so sweet, so soft, I never wanted to leave her! 

"Ooohh newt," she cooed, "You okay?" she gasped after a few seconds of me not moving, 

"I think my brain is melting..."

"Really?"

"Oh my god. Bloody Hell You feel so good... it's amazing. you're amazing!"

"you haven't even moved yet..." she giggled,

"I know, sorry" I chuckled before gently moving my hips slowly and gently "Oh my god. Bloody hell! Love! I am really really sorry this isn't gonna last very long! You have no clue how amazing this is! after all this time,"

she was already struggling too feeling my gentle movements was enough for her after all this time "I know, after all this time was it worth the wait?"

"So so much Y/n!"

"I think so too," she smirked

I smirked back and happily began to speed up causing her to have to muffle her screams but so did I as I got faster and faster rubbing on her clit as much as I could I was biting my lip squeezing my eyes shut trying desperately not to cum already but it suddenly hit her like a tone of bricks and she squealed tightening around me as she hit her toe curling orgasm it felt so much better with my cock inside her "Ughhhhh Newt!" she squealed

I knew I was struggling just to hold on feeling her cum around me, I knew I couldn't take much more so I just let my hips work on their own fueled by fire desire and after a few short thrusts I buried himself as deep as I could making sure every single drop was buried as deep inside her as I could, 

"Bloody hell Y/n..." I gasped

"yeah..." she gasped

I pulled out and collapsed beside her on the bed, "Bloody hell... that felt amazing."

"Umm mhm..." she cooed cuddling up to me, "I love you," 

"I love you too," I cooed kissing her, "Let's home we have a little baby coming," I smiled rubbing her stomach, "But I'm not gonna lie... I wouldn't mind a few more attempts," 

She giggled and gave me a sweet kiss before we both lay cuddled up and soon passed out from exhaustion, 

I smiled as I finished up my last treatment after we discovered how much Thomas' blood was good at fighting the virus so I had my last dose and walked out into the safe haven seeing everyone busy with cooking, farming and building as usual. I headed out across the camp greeting people as I went before I reached the gardens seeing people working away with some corn, I saw the sweetest of sights there.

Melody stood with the corn growing only up to her shoulders, her sweetY/H/Chair blowing in the wind her brown eyes wide as she giggled excitedly playing with the crops in her little cream dress. 

"Melody," I cooed,

She perked up and ran through the cron crops, "Daddy!" She smiled jumping into my arms so I could hold her tight giving her a cuddle and some kisses,

"Hello little angel," I cooed, "What are you up to?" 

"Helping,"

"Helping? Right," I chuckled, "Now if you could be so kind little lady as pointing me in mummy's direction?"

She nodded so I set her down and she happily ran off I followed her deeper into the gardens where I saw an even sweeter sight as Y/n worked on some strawberry beds the easiest job in the gardens given her large swollen tummy, herY/H/Chair in a braid down her back as she wears a blue maternity dress, and little Jr running around playing with the small wooden windmill that gally had made for him, his little blonde hair bouncing as he runs around the grass. 

"Daddy!" Jr smiled as he bolted over so I cuddled him too,

"Hi little man, you having fun?"

"Yeah!" He giggled,

"Good, go on then play with your sister," I told him setting him down so he and Melody could go play,

"Hello love," I cooed kissing Y/n and stroking her bump, 

"Hello, Newt,"

"How's baby?"

"Snug as a bug," she smiled, 

"Awww and how's mummy?"

"Perfectly fine," she nodded, "How's daddy?"

"Perfect. I feel much better now," I nodded, "And I feel at peace now everything is going to be okay, and You, Melody, Jr and our future little one will be safe," I cooed giving her another kiss. 

[lavendertales]

Sweet lies: Chapter 5

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: the Millers invite everyone over at their place for Valentine’s day, and things have never felt lonelier for you. But the end of the night has a surprise twist for you.

word count: 5k

A/N: now we’re getting into the juicy part. huge thanks to @cheshire-noir​ for helping me with a good part of this!

Comments & reblogs are forever appreciated 💕 

gif: @pascalsky

series masterlist | AO3 

As much as you tried to remain the professional and hardworking person you have always been, that Friday had your mind spinning relentlessly.

Last night’s dinner was still fresh on your mind, taunting you alongside Frankie and Andrea. Worst part was that you actually liked Andrea. It was virtually impossible to nest any negative feelings towards someone so incredible. 

But then you recalled Frankie’s hesitant side glares, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each nervous gulp he took, the sheer regretful expression on his face whenever the two of you locked eyes, and you wondered if somehow, maybe, he wasn’t so confident in his relationship. 

It couldn’t have been. It was just your jealousy talking deep in your subconscious, giving you false hope. You’ve been down that road before, being fed up lies by your own mind and tricked by your heart. You did not need that again, and certainly not when Frankie was engaged.

You had to be on your best behavior. The two of you were no longer friends, but merely old acquaintances, so you shouldn’t have had an issue with giving him the cold shoulder. The farther he was from you, the better. Even if you had foolishly agreed to go to the Valentine’s Day bash that Will and Benny were throwing, that didn’t mean you could act reckless. 

So you came up with a plan.

“Good news, your girl finished her presentation early, which means I am available for some weekend fun,” Rose’s confident voice giggles over the phone.

It’s a little over eleven p.m., and you’re already half asleep in your bed, but as luck would have it, Rose’s timing is impeccable. 

“Congratulations,” you say, genuinely impressed by her work ethic. “At least one of us was professional today.”

“Uh-oh. I take it dinner was awkward last night?”

“Frankie came with his fiancé.”

Silence. You can hear Rose’s jaw drop and her steady breaths. If you listen closely enough, you can hear her processing what you just told her.

“They both came?” she asks.

“Yeah. It was dinner with friends and their significant others, of course he would’ve brought his fiancé. It was stupid of me to think he wouldn’t.”

“Still, I can’t imagine it was pleasant to just have her in your face like that.”

“She’s actually pretty awesome.”

“What?!”

Rose’s indignation actually steals a chuckle out of you, for which you are thankful.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she continues.

You scoff. “I’m serious! She’s an incredible, accomplished woman.”

“I don’t care, that is the enemy!”

“She’s really not. If anything, Frankie is. He’s the one who fucked it all up.”

“Fair point. What’s so incredible about this woman, anyway?”

“Well, her name’s Andrea and she’s a dermatologist, she regularly volunteers for different charities, she’s hilarious and sweet… oh, and she’s unfairly gorgeous.”

“How gorgeous are we talking here?”

“Green eyes, light brown hair with cute bangs, caramel skin… and she smells great.”

“Shit, that does sound great.”

“So you see my problem.”

“I do. But I can hate her.”

“What—Rose, you don’t even know her.”

“When has that ever stopped us? We’ve hated people for no reason before.”

“Yes, but those were celebrities. And it was usually because they either had something we don’t have, or because we just didn’t like them.”

“Hello! How is this any different?”

You chuckle again, your chest growing heavier with concern regarding tomorrow’s plans.

“Hey, listen, since you’re free this weekend,” you start, “how do you feel about spending Valentine’s Day with me tomorrow?”

“Uh… okay, I really appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not sure what kind of message did I send to you before.”

You both laugh. “Will and Ben are throwing this little Valentine’s get-together between friends—and their girlfriends too, I guess—and I could really use a friendly shoulder there.”

“Hmm. So everyone’s gonna be happily nuzzling next to their significant others?”

“All, except me and Frankie. Andrea can’t come apparently.”

“Gotta say, I’m a little relieved, I thought I was going to have to show some PDA in order to be able to stay.”

You laugh some more, eagerly anticipating her response.

“Won’t it be awkward?” Rose asks.

“Possibly. Every interaction I’ve had so far has been more or less so. Please, you gotta come with me.”

“I will, I will. Just gotta stop by at my grandma’s first to check in on her.”

“How is she doing after the hip replacement surgery?”

“Pretty good. More mobile each day.”

“Oh, that’s great!”

“Yeah. But after that, I’m totally gonna be there for you.”

“Good. Cause I’m your best friend, and you have to help a friend in need.”

“True.”

“Also, Santi will be there.”

You can tell that has Rose’s attention. Hell, even you smile. You’ve been hoping for a long time that she and Santiago would act upon their feelings, but clearly they both had been shy to initiate.

“I was gonna come anyway, just to clarify,” Rose pushes, to which you smirk.

“Mhm.”

“This is just… an added bonus.”

“Of course it is. I’ll see you tomorrow then, at the Millers?”

“You got it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Oh, and thank you, Rose. I love you.”

“You don’t have a thing to thank me for. I love you too.”

Knowing that Rose will be there makes it easier for you to fall asleep, and to navigate through next day’s tasks. You wake up pretty early in order to go your grocery shopping, your cleaning and your cooking, and when the clock strikes five p.m., you are in your bathroom, showering and putting a little makeup on.

It’s not a party, you keep reminding yourself of Will’s words. So you don’t overdress, and you don’t overdo it with makeup. Just something cute and casual for a night out with your friends.

And their girlfriends. And, with Rose there, probably making heart eyes at Santiago, that means it’ll be just you and Frankie.

Okay, so maybe your plan wasn’t so well thought. Maybe you could back out of going. Who would really care, on Valentine’s, no less?

Oh, but they would. You knew the guys, you knew your friends, and you knew how relentless they could be about group hangouts and such. You knew they would bother you consistently, bombard you with questions about why you were a no-show at the very last moment.

Honestly, the idea of free drinks kept you motivated enough. In the event of Rose disappearing somewhere to snuggle with Santi, you’d have your trusted companions, the beers.

But you refuse to show up empty handed, so you carry with you a big plate of sandwiches and a bottle of wine. You put in the location on the GPS and drive through the snowed streets.

You’ve been to Will’s and Benny’s plenty of times, but you felt safer having the address right there in front of you, especially on an icy evening like that. Even on a tender day such as Valentine’s Day, February knows how to remind you of its cold, cold wrath.

Standing on the doorstep of the Millers’ humble bungalow merely twenty minutes later, your warmest clothes prove nothing on that bitter evening. You rang the doorbell once and are now anxiously waiting for either Will or Benny to let you in.

Soon, waiting becomes a daunting task. But not only because of the bitter wind chills.

Will and Benny are hosting this party—scratch that. A get-together. Friendly faces, and yet all of them seem to belong to mere ghosts of your past. For them, Valentine’s Day didn’t need the frills and ties, but rather friends and stiff drinks. Plus, they had their wonderful girlfriends by their side, so even the most mundane tasks could be deemed as romantic and well-thought. Will reassured you it would be a smaller gathering, just the lonely ones and the dorks who actually managed to score someone. Still, the sight of the cramped cars in the driveway spiked your anxiety when the GPS told you “arrived at your destination”. But you prevailed, and marched to the front door nonetheless. You had made a promise, after all. 

Hurry up, guys, your mind begs, huffing into your hands to keep you warm. Finally, you see a familiar face grinning from the door window. Not Will, rather Benny. Your eyes soften, eagerly pushing your way in, even as Benny already starts fussing over how long you waited.

“It’s fine,” you tell him sincerely.

“I shouted at Will to open the door a dozen times,” he seemingly apologizes. “I had the glasses in my hand, but no, I gotta do all the work. So much for big bro duties. Here, let me take that.”

You chuckle as Benny takes the plate and bottle of wine from your hand, and you take a look around. You were swathed in warmth as soon as you crossed the threshold into the home. Something about being inside made you relax much more. It could be the coziness of the two-story living, where every room in the house bled into each other. Or it could be that the furniture choices were plump and rosy leather adorned in animal themed blankets, tapestries and cushions. In the living room, MTV is playing on the television, the soft drones of Robert Smith from The Cure filling you with the melancholy you had come to associate with the holiday.

From the couch, Will greets you, inviting you to sit as you hand your jacket off to Benny. Will and Mia are sitting over at one of the two olive couches that surround the fireplace. Benny has no problem plopping himself next to his brother and his girlfriend, the latter having his own significant other join in, but you decide to pick the couch across from them, the one closest to the kitchen. Not just because it might be useful should you require more drinks, but also because you think five’s a crowd, and couples need their intimacy.

The light in the kitchen is on and you can see two shadows bouncing across the walls. They are talking about something, but you can’t pick up on any of it, not when you have Will and Mia’s conversation ringing in the other ear. Although, you still can’t help but stare at the shapes.

One looks stocky, and seems to be the one making the most noise out of them. But the other. The other has a cap on, larger arms, a deeper voice, dripping with age like a fine wine. He and Benny are the youngest among the boys, but his voice is coarse and thick with plenty of emotions that still have a grip over you.

You shake your head briefly, forcing yourself to smile and even giggle at the excited voices in front of you. It’s a favorable situation rather than staring at Frankie the whole time, which you swore you wouldn’t do, no matter what.

You fleetingly check your watch, wondering when Rose will get there. You grow to hate this feeling of helplessness when it comes to being around Frankie. It’s not that you are not strong, quite the opposite: you are more than capable of being cold and distant, but gazing over at him, looking and longing at the same time? A whole other story.

You’re not quite sure what it is about Frankie that still has you in a chokehold. Actually, you do know, you just like denying it, especially now given the circumstances. In every way, Frankie is the embodiment of your dream partner. He’s kind, funny, sweet, smart, protective, and just overall a warm person that once made you feel like you were truly yourself, and not just playing a game.

After all this time, your feelings for him have not vanished as you had hoped. You foolishly thought distance would help you forget, but now that you have been thrust back into your old life, you see things are no different than when you left.

At least in that regard.

Looking at Will and Benny happily sharing with you stories of their adventures with the girls, you sport a sincere smile. You have never seen them so fulfilled, so blissful, and it makes your heart tremble with joy. Yet there is a permanent ache in your heart that you cannot deny, one you doubt anyone would fully understand.

“Hey, you’re here!” Santiago says, pulling you in to hug you tight.

You reciprocate, eyes landing on Frankie’s figure in the background. He seems apologetic, averting your gaze as much as he can, as if he’s guilty of something. Deep down, you do understand his reaction and, oddly enough, you are thankful that he’s not pushing the note in any way.

“I heard Emily made heart shaped cookies, and you know I’m a sucker for cookies,” you joke.

“You have to try them, they are out of this world,” Mia fortifies.

You all chuckle, and you do in fact stretch your arm towards the coffee table in the middle to grab one of the cookies on the plate and take a bite out of it, instantly melting.

“Oh my God,” you nearly shout, immediately taking another bite. “These are heavenly!”

“Thank you!” Emily smiles, her cheeks now flushed. “I don’t make them that often though.”

“I can see why! It’s tough to stay away from them, shit.”

You finish the cookie and grab another one, causing everyone to giggle.

“It’s also why I told her to never, under any circumstances, share the recipe,” Benny adds. “This is cause for fight.”

“It sure is,” Will says.

You don’t realize you’re still in Santiago’s arms; when you do realize that, you inch away in the slightest, right under Frankie’s studious eyes. Curiosity has him by the throat, yet he can’t bring himself to ask you or Santiago any questions. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“Hi,” you finally greet Frankie, voice small and anxious.

“Hi,” he replies.

You’re tired of this; you are so tired of walking around on eggshells, measuring your words and actions and trying to stay away while also wanting to be part of the group again. It’s absolutely exhausting.

“You want something to drink?” Santiago offers, and you nod.

Frankie’s eyes don’t leave the two of you, silently studying you from the corner of his eye. He watches you go into the kitchen, exchange some words as Santiago opens up a beer bottle and hands it to you, and then he sees you lightly touching his arm.

He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know. It’s none of his business. He has no right asking or even caring anymore.

Then why does his chest ache so? Why does it feel like there’s a beast trapped inside of him that roars and scratches violently at the simplest of sights?

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“Okay, so,” Will announces, standing up now that you and Santiago return to the living room. “Now that we are all here.”

“Actually, Rose should be here any minute,” Santiago intervene.

“Oh. That’s okay, we can wait then.”

“What’s going on, guys?” you ask.

Will and Benny exchange a glare, as well as Mia and Emily, and you instantly know both couples have news. The options are limited, although you can pretty much figure out what’s going on before it’s even said.

And before you know it, you’re halfway through the beer bottle, wishing you had called a cab instead of driving to the bungalow.

“Well, uh… Mia and I are engaged,” Will says, reaching to grab his now fiancé’s hand.

It’s then that you notice the ring on Mia’s finger, shining as brightly as her eyes when she looks at Will. Laudatory exclaims burst among you all, and you’re quick to finish your beer before hugging Mia and then Will. Your heart swells and trembles with even more happiness, admiring them as Santiago and Frankie congratulate their friend.

“Benny has some news too,” Will chuckles.

All eyes turn to Benny, who instead looks over at Emily. Her cheeks burn auburn still, indicating nervousness and flattery.

“We’re moving in together,” she says.

More congratulations are being shared, the entire group hugging the other happy couple. You don’t think you could be any happier than you are at this very moment.

Or lonelier.

What a fascinating mixture, that of delight for your friends and loneliness for yourself. Contradictory, opposing poles, yet equally true.

You don’t let it show, though. Tonight it’s cause for celebration, and you are too focused on your friends’ fulfilled lives to allow any negative emotion impact it.

Although you can’t help but think that your steps are guided by some sort of negative emotion when you find yourself into the kitchen, grabbing another beer to toast to your friends.

“To Will and Benny, finally committed and off of our hands,” Santiago toasts, and you all laugh. “Girls, best of luck.”

“Here, here!”

You feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, and you swiftly notice a text from Rose: “Be there soon, max one hour. Sorry for the delay!” You don’t know why, but your stomach drops. Rose will be there soon, why do you feel so disarmed and hopeless? It doesn’t make much sense, and you don’t try to dig deeper. Not tonight.

You’re feeling a bit of a mess, so the best you can do is smile and nod along, drinking cheerfully along your very joyful and gratified friends. You look at them all, admiring and holding out hope for all of them, so much so that you forget about yourself momentarily. Just for one moment, you forget about the confusing mixture of feelings and how it fucks you up in this very moment.

So Will is engaged, Benny’s getting his own place with his girlfriend, and Frankie is engaged. That leaves you and Santiago as the lonely bachelors in the group.

Except Santiago’s smitten with Rose, and vice versa, and you have a feeling those two will end up together. Which means, when that’ll inevitably happen, it will be just you. Stuck in the same cycle, no matter how hard you have tried to run away from it or tell yourself you changed.

Definitely should’ve taken a cab. Tonight requires a whole lot more drinking.

Music starts blasting in the speakers, with the two happy couples and Frankie settling for an excited talk regarding the upcoming nuptials and move-in. You settle in the kitchen, taking a seat and sipping from your beer while your eyes remain on the five people on the couch. There is an odd sense of melancholy washing over you, like you are an intruder in all of those people’s lives, and that they’d be much happier without you. Like their lives would also be easier without you.

“Hey,” Santiago’s voice brings you back to earth. “You okay?”

He takes the seat next to you, nudging you with his shoulder. “Yeah,” you reply flatly, voice a little shaky, too. “So many good news tonight already, it’s… a lot.”

“I’m pretty surprised myself. More by Benny, not Will. Will’s got this commitment thing covered. Benny, on the other hand…”

You chuckle, staring at the bottom of the beer that’s dangerously close now. “But look at him now. A grown man, our Benny.”

“They’re all moving on, building their lives.”

“Yep.”

“Guess it’s just you and me now. The last two bachelors of the group.”

You purse your lips together, staring at him in a haze. “Maybe you and I should’ve given this a proper go.”

Santiago smirks, eyeing you up and down.

“Is that so?” he smiles.

“We might’ve actually had a real shot a while back.”

“At the very least we could’ve followed through with that little moment in the car.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“One complete and good memory from back then.”

You nod, reminiscing of the time when you returned to town for a few weeks, a couple of years back, and decided to try something new. You thought it was the right thing to do, but the short-lived romance proved otherwise for you both.

“Or we might’ve screwed things up completely,” you say.

“Or that.”

“I mean, look at me and Frankie. One wrong move and it’s all fucked up.”

You sigh deeply, your head now resting in the crook of Santiago’s neck. He smells of cologne and forest, fresh and… uncomplicated. His arm wraps around you, pulling you in closer.

All under Frankie’s eyes.

He can’t stop staring at the two of you, so close and intimate in the kitchen, and his mind starts to wonder, to fabricate little scenarios that make the room spin around him. It all comes crashing down on him when he starts to acknowledge the fact that you and Santiago make perfect sense.

“You good there, Fish?” Benny asks, hand on his shoulder.

“Hm?”

He’s blatantly staring and he didn’t even realize it till then. Now, his gaze returns upon those in the living room.

“You good?” Benny repeats the question.

“I’m good, yeah,” he replies.

“Cause… you were staring.”

“I was just… curious.”

Mia and Emily look over to the kitchen as well, then back at Frankie. “Oh, those two?” Mia chuckles. “Yeah, we’re curious, too.”

Frankie, instead, frowns.

“They’ve gotten very close in the past few years,” Will admits. “Not sure to what extent, but they sure are close.”

“I for one think that if there is something going on, we should give them some space,” Emily says. “Friends dating… it can be tricky to navigate. Let’s leave them alone in the meantime.”

Frankie gulps, finishing his beer, eager for another one. He stands up, heads to the kitchen, where he locks eyes with you and Santiago. The two of you separate, staring at him, but Frankie doesn’t say a word. He just reaches in the fridge for another beer, opens it and walks away, right outside into the cold.

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He definitely shouldn’t care.

“What’s with him?” you ask.

“I have no idea.  Maybe it’s the stress of planning a wedding.”

“Right.”

The doorbell is heard, turning towards Santiago with a smile. “That’s Rose.”

You see him take a deep breath, his mind clearly racing just as much as his heart, and you know he’s overthinking the moment. You have the same look on your face when you do it.

“Go,” you nearly push him off the chair. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m going, okay? I don’t wanna seem too eager.”

“You’re reeking of neediness already. Go.”

When you’re alone in the kitchen, you have the nerve to finish the beer, then raiding for another one. You’re probably going to regret this, but you need something to take the edge off.

You spy into the living room, noticing Santiago and Rose emerged into a conversation filled with shy smiles and flushed cheeks, and you smile. God, I hope this works between them. They’re too good for each other to not make this work.

But life sometimes has a funny and cruel way of pulling two perfect people apart from each other. You’ve experienced it firsthand, and you’d hate seeing this happen to two of the dearest people in your life.

You keep hearing music, and after a while, those in the living room start dancing with each other and you take that as your cue to leave. You feel like an extra there, just looking at the happy couples giggling and talking to each other.

Before you know it, you find yourself outside, slowly inhaling the cold air. You’re a bit tipsy, so this is just what you need to remain grounded in the present. A present where you’re basically left behind, alone, just you and the professional ladder you are desperately trying to climb in order to feel like you are achieving something.

By all means, you are happy. You have a great new job, great life, health… everything is good. So there is no reason for you to be feeling like this, is there?

“It’s freezing, you should get back inside,” a voice shouts.

You come to realize that it’s Frankie. He’s on the porch, few inches away, barely staring at you.

“Could tell you the same thing,” you say.

“I happen to be okay with the cold. I know you hate it.”

You tsk, hating how much he still knows about you. You stare into the far off distance, beer in hand. Luckily the alcohol keeps you a little warm, so you don’t really care about the freezing temperatures right now.

“Needed some air,” you say.

“Aka a break from all the happy inside.”

“I didn’t say—“

“You didn’t have to.”

“Would you just—knock it off?”

It is now that you turn to meet his gaze, fury radiating from your eyes. He can feel it, too; you see it in his body language, the way he’s trying to make himself seem smaller next to you. But he doesn’t avert his eyes. Instead, he seems to be staring right at you, with a certain darkness in his eyes that you fail to recognize.

“Look, I’m tired of this, Frankie,” you surrender. “I am sick and tired of trying my hardest to be distant and keep you at bay… and I’m sorry I’m acting like a bitch. I am not, I’m really not.”

“I know you’re not. You got every right to act this way, though.”

You chuckle. “Well, at least you understand what the situation is.”

“Of course I do. I’m not an idiot, okay? I know this is… fucked up and hurtful and messy… but I miss you.”

The moment he says that, your heart begins to race like crazy.

“As a—friend,” he clarifies, gulping.

“I want us to function normally too, like we used to, but I don’t know if it’s possible, Frankie. I gotta respect you and Andrea’s relationship, and… a single woman is not to be around a committed guy.”

Frankie scoffs, finishing his beer and putting the empty bottle on the porch, half in snow. “Single? Really?”

“Yes, really. Why?”

He falters, trips over his own thoughts, and he keeps quiet. It’s his best play at this very moment.

“I missed you too,” you confess shyly, in an almost non-existent voice.

But he hears it. He hears and sees you crystal clear, burning and aching with his whole body. He should not be feeling this way. He should not be surprised that you’d be interested in Santiago. He should not be upset by it, nor should he be feeling this way around you. It’s not okay. It’s not normal to burn this much for someone.

And yet here he is, secretly doing it anyway, and shoving it deep down with every ounce of strength imaginable.

You sneak a peek through the window, noticing Rose still talking to Santiago, seemingly laughing out loud, and your heart quickly swells and then deflates. When you finish your beer, you find Frankie to stand much closer to you, cutting out the air from your lungs. You barely feel the cold anymore, even if your fingers turn purple and your face is red with something you can’t quite discern.

“I’m really sorry that I let you go,” he mutters. “I was a dick. Pope reminds me once or twice a year.”

You actually chuckle. “Good.”

“He’s a great friend.”

“That he is.”

“And you guys seem to be very close. Kind of like…”

“We used to be?”

He nods. When your eyes meet and neither shies away, it’s electric. It’s a rush, a moment filled with unspoken emotion. You want to look away, you know this should not be happening, and yet you can’t look away. It’s years of deprivation, missing him and missing the two of you, but you just don’t want to look away from him.

You just want to look at him, admire him for the man that he’s turned into. Nothing more.

“I missed you,” he repeats, his voice almost like he’s begging. “So much.”

You don’t reply. You can’t really focus; your mind is foggy, clouded by all sorts of emotions tonight, and you know you should back off, act with respect. Because, at the end of the day, you do respect Frankie and his relationship with Andrea, and you respect Andrea just as much.

Every cell in your body screams at you to just back off, go back inside to your friends and celebrate alongside them. You swear you moved your feet in the desired direction. You start to feel warm again, warm all over, particularly your face.

Seconds later, you realize that is because there is warm breath all over your face, and your lips become swollen, reddened with a foreign, yet familiar and much needed touch.

Another few seconds later and you realize that Frankie’s lips are on yours, and his hand cups your cheek, pulling you in.

The worst of it is, you kiss him back. You kiss him back till you’re running out of air and Frankie’s breath is the sole source of air that you have. You kiss him back till you become fully aware of the implications, and then, before you can pull away, Frankie does it first.

He pulls away from you, his lips just as swollen and red as yours, and he stares at you in shock. Truthfully, you’re just as shocked, unable to utter a single word.

“I’m so sorry,” he coos, looking around in disbelief. “I am… so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should go.”

You still don’t say anything. You simply stare at him, incapable to remove the feeling of his soft lips pressed hastily on yours.

He’s slowly backing away from you, eyes locked with yours, as he keeps muttering “I should go”. So he goes, leaving you half frozen on the porch, with a taste on your lips that nothing would ever wash away.

previous | next

[damn-stark]

Chapter 17 When you believe

Chapter 17 of Sandstorm

A/N- Practice did them good, that’s all I’m saying ;)

Warning- Swearing, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Your Grace,” he bows his head and then slowly drifts his gaze to your left side and parts his lips but doesn’t say anything, as if debating whether to acknowledge who stands by your throne. “…Princess,” he finally adds and straightens up.

You draw out an exhausted breath and press the man. “State your business, Lord Umber.”

The old man slides the hat off his head and clutches it in front of him as he holds your gaze. “I am sorry for the disturbance, My Queen, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s the Wildlings, they’ve—”

“Freefolk,” the young girl at your left side cuts him off to correct him. “If you’ve come here to complain then please address them correctly.”

You can’t help the proud smirk that tugs on your face as you look at your left side to share the gesture with your eldest daughter, and heir, Rhaenyra.

She notices from the corner of her eyes and passes a soft smirk before you’re both forced to listen to the man complain about the Freefolk, as a lot of Northerners often do. You’d think after a decade of the Freefolk being apart of the Kingdoms, the people would stop being so judgemental, but no, they continue to whine.

“The Freefolk,” the man corrects himself. “Summer snow has struck the North, and I know it’s nothing to worry about here, but it is over there. They do nothing but steal like wild ravagers. I want them out of my lands. It’s time the Crown does something about them.”

It’s always the same thing over and over again. It’s fucking annoying.

“Freefolk business is to be dealt with Princess Sansa Stark,” you remind the man of a law that’s been set for 15 years.

The Lord nods and shuffles forward, making sure to be cautious of the swords that align the steps that lead to the Throne. “I have gone to the Princess of the North, but I always end up with the same response that nothing can be done. That’s why I have come here personally.”

You nod and sigh, wanting this to be over, but you just shift in the seat and continue to address his problem. “My Lord, have the Freefolk robbed you personally? Because if they have then it is to be brought with Princess Sansa Stark, there are laws that need to be followed, including them. So if they have robbed you, beaten you, or done any destruction to your lands then please say so.”

The Lord twists his hat and glances at the Lord Hand below the steps, and then at the Grand Maester at the other side and finally meets your gaze again and nods, letting you know all you needed to know, it’s all bullshit.

“They’ve gotten to steal from our flocks,” the man shares. “Every other night, one goes missing or one wakes up all dead and covered in blood. How am I meant to keep my people fed? I want justice.”

Gods.

You sigh and nod softly. “All right, well I’ll write to Princess Sansa Stark, I will tell her to send two Knights to your land and stand guard for a week. If you are right then the Freefolk at fault will face trial, if not then you may rest easy and know it was not them.”

The Lord nods and then bows his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I know that I will be right.”

You hum and offer the man a tiny smile that lasts until he’s out of the sunlit throne room. “All right,” you sigh and stand up from that hard ass throne. “Well my Lord Hand that is all for today. Thank you.”

The Lord hand bows and takes his leave, letting you turn to Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. “Grand Maester, may you send Princess Sansa a raven and let her know what we’ve discussed here today please.”

The man bows his head. “Of course, right away your Grace.” He then scurries off, letting you walk down the steps and then head to the courtyard with Rhaenyra beside you, and four Queensguard behind you.

“I bet it’s just a pack of wolves getting into his flock,” Rhaenyra interjects when you leave the throne room. “It’s rare now to hear of the Freefolk doing any harm.”

You scoff. “Yes, that’s exactly my thoughts, but you know,” you sigh. “People are still prejudice about the unknown. They’re scared. But the key thing to do in these cases is…” you trail off and let her finish.

“Have patience,” Rhaenyra fills in.

You smile and meet her pretty dark eyes that match Jon’s. “Exactly, even when they cry wolf.”

Rhaenyra tries not to, but she can’t help but giggle.

You grin and look ahead. “Pun very much intended.”

Rhaenyra scoffs; and you know she rolls her eyes.

“Still he came all this way,” Rhaenyra adds. “I wonder how much of his flock is left now. With luck all so he can learn his lesson about whining.”

“With luck,” you retort. “None are dead or else he will come back and give us headaches.”

“I suppose you are right,” Rhaenyra agrees.

“Aren't I always?” You tease.

Rhaenyra stays quiet, causing you to look at her with a playful narrowed glare. She meets your gaze and simply shrugs.

“Father says it’s okay to be wrong,” she counters smugly. “There’s no mistake or shame in it.”

You wrap your arm around her shoulders and shake your head. “But I am your mother and the Queen, I am never wrong. My word is law. Literally.”

Rhaenyra scoffs softly. “Father says even rulers can be wrong.”

You beam at her and press your forehead against hers. “Very good. Your father has taught you well.”

She’s come a long way from being sharp tongued and short tempered. Well some of it still resides within her, but now that she’s been at your side more in your royal duties, she’s started to mature. It both saddens and fills you with joy because you don’t wish her to get any older than she already is, but you also can’t help but feel proud.

“As have you, mother,” she assures you.

You hum softly and then press a kiss on the side of her head before you let go and walk out to the runway that overlooks the training courtyard below. And the moment you walk out you’re welcomed with the sound of metal singing as it clashes against one another, you hear playful training yard squabble, and instructions that come from Jon.

When you approach the railing you stop when you’re above a pair of boys training with swords. You rest your hands against the railing and watch as your son, Ryuu, shove his older brother off his feet with a swift lunge before he spins around him and trips him. He’s only 13, and Jon and Ser Brienne say he’s showing great potential; he’s beaten Jon a couple already in training.

“You’ve frozen up again, young Prince,” Ser Brienne scolds your older son on the ground. “Stop tensing up and watching. Watch and act.”

You lean closer and watch as Ryuu jumps up and down in celebration to his success, making the black curls on his head bounce.

“No celebrating,” Ser Brienne scolds the boy. “Focus.”

Ryuu stops and clears his throat. “Right sorry.” He walks around his brother and offers him his hand. “You did well, Daeron.” He compliments the 15 year old. “Nice switch.”

Daeron sighs and meets his brother's dark eyes that also match Jon’s eye color, and then takes his hand to let his brother help him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Daeron responds with disappointment as he begins to walk back to his spot across from Ryuu.

“You almost got me,” Ryuu counters and twists around to face Daeron. “Almost,” he jokes, with a smirk you know plays on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daeron chuckles. “Just pay attention little boy. You won’t get me now.”

You smile at his good sportsmanship and watch as he fixes his grip around his sword's handle. And as if he can sense your gaze, he looks up and his green eyes meet your gaze. He offers you a soft smile that you quickly mirror.

“Good job,” you mouth to him.

Daeron’s smile widens, causing Ryuu to follow his line of gaze and notice you now too.

“Mother, have you come to see me beat Daeron?” He quips with a playful grin.

You shrug. “Maybe I’ve come to challenge you,” you remark.

Ryuu flashes you a grin. “I’d like that.”

You shoot him a wink and push yourself back to continue on, hearing him Ryuu taunt his brother. “I thought you were flirting with a girl for a second, but how can that be when you’re such a mommas boy.”

“Ryuu,” you warn him without looking over at him.

“Mother,” you hear him call back.

Before you can climb down the stairs to join the training yard below you turn to face Rhaenyra. “The business is all done for today, my girl, you may go change and join your siblings if that pleases you.”

Rhaenyra glances down below and watches everyone training for a few seconds before she meets your gaze and interjects. “Actually, may I go out and be with my dragon today?”

You nod without hesitation. “Of course. Go on, soar the skies. Just remember, strap up, and be careful okay?”

Rhaenyra flashes you a smile before she spins around and rushes off to do as she said, letting you turn to hobble down the stairs.

And just as you turn into the training yard you catch your youngest son and child, Aemon, miss the target a few feet ahead of him and hit some weapon rack instead. Because of it his two older sisters watching him begin to laugh.

“Which one of you was a marksman at 8?” You cut them off, catching all of their attention.

“I was,” Edria, your 11 year old daughter, counters smugly.

You scoff softly, and Oraena, the youngest daughter rebuttals her sister that’s only a year older than her. “You still wet your bed at 8.”

Edria gasps and turns her head slowly to face her sister with annoyance, before she leans over and shoves her playfully, making Oraena chuckle before she pushes Edria back. That makes Edria want to hit her arm, but Oraena runs off before she can be touched, making her sister chase after her around the training yard.

“There they go,” you comment under your breath and watch them for a moment before you look at Aemon. “You, my boy are okay,” you assure the sweet boy. “Now hair out of your face, maybe that’s why you’re missing.”

Aemon rolls his eyes, and then holds the bow between his legs to tie his wavy white-silver hair back to a bun that matched Jon’s. After he’s done he faces you and begins to sign with his hands what he wants to say since he can't speak. “Now, can father and I continue?”

You nod. “Go on. Shoot.” You tell him and point the target with your head.

Aemon grabs his bow again and takes an arrow to try again, and while he does you then look at Jon close to Aemon and walk to him with a smile.

The moment you close the gap between one another he grabs you by the back of your neck and gives you a kiss, making you cup his cheeks to deepen the steamy gesture.

“I missed you,” you say between kisses even if you had seen him not so long ago.

Jon smirks. “I missed you too.” He says back and you only move more in sync as if you have never ever kissed one another before.

Honestly as you gotten older you have only grown more passionate about each other…maybe that’s why you have six biological children. And why Aemon was such a surprise when you found out you were with child.

Perhaps if you had gotten together sooner than you’d have more. But then again you’re also glad you don’t have more, raising seven kids is a hassle and a frequent headache.

Regardless, when you pull apart Jon and wipes your lips with his thumb and interrogates you. “How was it?”

You sigh. “You know it was eventful…as always. Lord Umber came.”

Jon blinks in surprise and narrow his gaze. “Lord Umber?” He repeats. “Whatever for?”

“You’ll like this,” you say sarcastically. “He came to complain about the Freefolk.”

Jon rolls his eyes and sighs out of annoyance. “I swear one single Freefolk can pass by minding their business and people complain. When will it end? I can’t imagine how much Sansa has to hear about it.”

You chuckle and nod. “But that’s why she has Mors, he helps her keep level headed.”

Jon smiles softly and nods. “You are right.”

You shoot him a smirk. “I always am. I was right about them.”

Jon scoffs, but before he can say anything back, the sound of a stomping foot steals your attention to Aemon.

“Can you two stop,” he signs with annoyance expressing in his dark eyes. “You can kiss later when I’m not here. It’s gross.”

Jon and you chuckle. “Fine,” you give in. “I’ll go, leave you two men here. Just remember, dragon training later.”

Aemon nods in comprehension before he turns back to focus on his target practice with Jon.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Jon advises the boy. “And relax your bow arm. Okay?”

You smile in awe as Jon walks to Aemon to help him with his stance, and stand there to watch. A few seconds pass and this time when Aemon shoots he hits the edge of the target.

“Good,” Jon tells the smiling boy. “That’s better.”

You smile wider and linger there watching as Aemon high-fives his father.

Some would say that your relationship with your children shouldn’t be as strong as it, some say only the father should truly bond with their sons, but fuck all that. Jon wants to be close to all his kids, every single one of them, you do too. Others also say that you should send them away, only keep the heir here and have the others be wards or do something else, they especially encourage you to send Daeron away, but your heart can’t bare sending him away, you can’t send any of your kids anyway, besides what can other people teach them that you and Jon can’t?

Besides, you don’t trust anyone else to raise your children. Sure dealing with royal duties and children is difficult, but Jon is a big help, your court helps as well with royal duties, that’s why you have them. You can juggle both things, you enjoy it. And why have a big family if half of them are gone?

That’s why they’re all still here, that’s why you’re close to all of them. Or as close as you can be.

If Rhaenar were still here…the family would have been even bigger, he’d be a grown man with kids of his own….

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t cry, instead you turn away and walk to Daeron and Ryuu, noticing Ryuu lose this time because he was distracted by Samwell Tarly's youngest boy, Jon, passing by.

Daeron also notices that and then looks at you to share a teasing look you mirror. Ryuu only focuses back when you approach Daeron to help him.

“Hand less tense,” you advise him. “And make sure your feet are not so spread apart.” You use your own foot to push his legs closer together. “And…” you trail off and pull his arm closer to him. “There better.”

Daeron takes note of his stance and then looks at you and gives you a thankful nod. “Thank you mother,” he whispers.

You shoot him a smile and stand back. “Go on, show me.” You encourage, but as you watch them match again, you notice the judgmental stares the passerbyers give Daeron. Albeit when they catch you glaring at them they look away and go back to what they were doing.

Sure it’s obvious that Daeron isn’t your kid, nor may he look like a Baratheon like Daenerys wanted everyone to believe. Sure his eyes are green unlike your children’s who all inherited Jon's dark eyes. Daeron may be tall and slim because he resembles his real father, Daario. Sure Daeron doesn’t have that common Targaryen silver hair, but neither does Robb, Ryuu, Edria or Oraena. Yes his nose is aquiline like that of some of your Targaryen ancestors, he has that Targaryen beauty. But that doesn’t make Daeron any less of your child or their prince. Anyone who wants to argue against that can come speak to you and Eraxis. Simple.

“Have either of you seen Robb?” You ask the two boys once they finish their match. “I’m surprised he isn’t here.”

Daeron and Ryuu share a secret look before Daeron shares what he knows. “He’s off brooding somewhere.”

“Yes,” Ryuu bounces off his brother's comment. “He woke up in a very foul mood today. He’s at the cove.”

You hum and nod in comprehension before you part away to go there right away.

After a long walk to the cove behind the castle you find your eldest son, Robb sitting on the sand throwing shells in the water.

“Robb,” you make your presence known, even though you knew he heard you climbing down the stone steps.

Albeit even if you spoke he still doesn’t look back, he drops the shells from his hands and just watches the waves crashing on the shore in front of his boots.

“I didn’t see you with your father and your siblings at the training yard,” you continue as you slowly approach him. “Is everything okay? You like training.”

Robb lets out a deep sigh and drops his head, letting his black hair fall over his eyes. “It’s okay, you wouldn't understand.”

Oh, so we’re at that stage now.

You sigh and stop just behind him to take your shoes off before you sit beside him on the sand. “I can maybe try and understand then,” you press him softly. “Please.”

Robb blinks and keeps his head down, he stays quiet for a few more seconds before he swallows thickly and then interjects quietly. “I…I’m not like you. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to be like everyone else, but no matter how much I try I still fail. I’m…a disappointment. To you and father.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel as if your heart sinks at the sound of his words. “In what way?” You probe and cup the back of his head. “Because all I see is someone who’s trying, someone who’s growing up. You’re still young Robb. You will fail and that’s okay. That’s how we all learn.”

Robb slowly lifts his head and meets your gaze with tears clouding his eyes. “But I don’t have a dragon, mother. Everyone else does, even father. Mine failed to be born to me. How does that look? The Targaryen prince who can’t have the one thing that makes us special?” He shakes his head and pushes your hand off his bead. “While you and father and all my other siblings fly I sit there watching, while you train with your dragons, I continue to sit there!”

You sigh deeply and feel your eyes fill with tears as you remember having a similar conversation with Rhaenar once. “You know,” you mutter and glance out at the crashing blue waves. “One time, before you were born. I had a very similar conversation with your older brother Rhaenar….he was afraid that his dragon egg wouldn’t be born to him because he was only half Targaryen….” You pause and glance down at your hands. “Do you want to know what I told him?”

Robb drifts his gaze to you and hums to press you for more.

You muster a small smile and then meet Robb’s dark eyes. “That it wouldn’t matter if it was born to him or not because he is still a Targaryen, because he still is great. That’s all that matters, so I tell you this now, my boy. It doesn’t matter if you bond with a dragon or not. It doesn’t,” you shake your head. “I won’t love you any less. Your father and your siblings won’t.”

Robb scoffs. “Father doesn’t love me as much.”

You lean towards him and counter. “Nonsense, your father loves you, but you are the one to blame for the distance with your father. He’s trying to reach out to you and at every attempt you push him away.”

Robb stays quiet knowing you’re right, letting you once again cup the back of his head.

“You don’t need a dragon to be great. That comes from here,” you say and point at his chest. “There are some brave men who turned out to be not so great even with dragons. And there are others who didn’t have a dragon ever and are legends; like your name-sake, your uncle Robb. He was a hero, a legend and a King and he had no dragon.” You smile and begin to caress the back of his head with your thumb. “Your uncle Tormund is a great warrior and a hero, and he also has no dragon. Ser Jaime was a great swordsman and had no dragon. I can go on and on and name personal hero’s I know that had no dragons and are still legends.”

Robb shakes his head softly. “But you do, and you’ve stopped three rebellions already during your reign as Queen because of Eraxis.”

You nod softly, knowing you can’t deny those claims. “That’s true. But are you me?”

Robb scoffs softly in amusement and shakes his head. “No.”

“Nor I do want you to be me, or your father,” you continue to assure him. “You don’t need a dragon. Daeron doesn’t have a dragon either.”

Robb huffs and averts his gaze before spatting, “Daeron is not my brother.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly argue back against him. “Don’t say that. Daeron is your brother. I may not have birthed him, but he is your relative, he is just as much of a Targaryen as you and your siblings. He is your brother, I wish you would stop arguing against that.”

Robb drops his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You swallow thickly and don’t dwell on that topic any longer, instead you return to your previous conversation. “All I’m trying to say is that, you are not and will be any less of a Tagaryen if you don’t have a dragon. Now being great, that’s all up to you.”

Robb glances out at the water before he looks up at the sky as the sapphire-blue dragon is spotted miles above the water, lost in the clouds.

“I suppose you’re right,” Robb agrees quietly and a bit unsurely.

“I tend to be so,” you joke, making Robb side-eye you before he snickers.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You are.”

You beam. “At least someone sees it.”

The corner of Robb’s lips tug to a soft smile, but it doesn’t last long because it then begins to fall and go serious again. “Uncle Bran…” Robb mentions. “Said that he’s seen my late brother's dragon, Helios, at Dragonstone…can I go and try to claim him? Drogon also tends to be there uncle Bran says, so can I please try once?”

You’ve heard what happens if people don’t bond with dragons when they attempt to do it, it doesn’t end well. But who would you be if you deny him?

“All right,” you give in, “but…we will all go with you. You know what happens if a dragon doesn’t want to bond with a rider. So just in case something goes wrong we will be there to protect you….I couldn’t bear it you didn’t come back.”

Robb flashes you a faint grin. “All right…thank you mummy.”

You mirror his gesture but you then lean in and press a kiss on the side of his head.

Robb groans and gently pushes you away and grumbles, “mother, please.” His cheeks turn a tint of pink and he looks back to see if your Knights standing guard at the entrance of the cove saw.

You giggle. “I’m sorry. Now,” you sigh and stand up. “Come on. Let’s head inside. You can train with your sisters today.”

Robb pushes himself to his feet and rolls his eyes as he groans in protests. “Ugh, they’re terrible. They never focus.”

——

*LATER*

No matter how busy a day can be, no matter if there’s guests staying at the castle, Jon and you eat dinner with all of your kids. As chaotic as they can be all together, even if they have poor table manners when it’s just you, it’s the one thing you looked forward to the most.

It’s also Jon’s favorite part of the day now that you don’t have to deal with them as little children you have to help feed.

Albeit the one thing that does annoy you is sitting down to eat, you’d think that they’d have a favorite chair, but they fight about the seats. Always.

Like now for example, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hall, whilst Jon insists on helping you to your seat because he says that you put enough weight on your leg that never fully healed after that battle where Gendry broke it.

“It doesn’t hurt as much today,” you assure him with a smile. “I sat for most of the day.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jon counters. “Now stop complaining.”

You shoot him a grin while the doors get pushed opened and in comes running footsteps.

“No,” you recognize Edria grumble. “Aemon I sit there! Get…”

“Ahaha!” Oraena laughs evilly, and when you peer back you see she had snuck around them and taken the seat next to Jon. You also can’t miss her pink and purple hatchling perched on her shoulder.

“Bitch.”

“Edria,” you warn her as you let Jon go and sit on the head chair.

“Sorry mother.” Edria mutters and bows her head before taking the seat next to her sister, making poor baby Aemon walk around the table.

“Here,” you pat the empty seat at your right side since the left one was where Jon sits. “You can sit next to me.”

Aemon’s chest falls and he sits down as if he was forced to do so.

“What?” You remark playfully. “You don’t want to sit next to your mother? Does the Queen intimidate you?” You giggle as you see him slowly begin to grin.

As the food begins to get placed down on the tables surface the four eldest walk in—or only Rhaenyra and Ryuu walk in gracefully because Robb and Daeron come running in shoving each other to see who can reach the seat all the way across from you, because it makes them feel…special?

Who knows really. They just always fight over it.

But in all reality they shouldn’t because it’s meant to be Jon’s seat, but you didn’t like how far he was from you so he took a different seat. And then after that it was meant to be for Rhaenyra considering she’s the eldest, but the boys got to fighting so she takes whatever seat is open. Which in this case is next to Aemon and across from Oraena.

“Oraena,” you call out as you ignore the two eldest boys still fighting over the seat to glance at your youngest daughter, and the one that’s turning out to look just like your mother, Elia. Which is a blessing, but it is also a curse at the same time because it does hurt your heart a bit because you still miss your mother so much.

“What did we say about hatchlings at the dinner table?” You tell Oraena.

The girl makes sure that both Jon and you are paying attention to her before she parts her lips to argue. “He can’t be without me. Daddy you know that, I’ve told you.”

You sigh and shake your head. “He needs to start learning, O, he can’t be perched on your shoulder forever.”

“He won’t,” she rebuttals sassily. “That would be impossible.”

You draw in a deep breath and drift your eyes to your left to ask Jon for help since he’s always the solution when it comes to dealing with Oraena.

“Your mothers right, O, he can’t be here. He needs to start learning to be more independent. But it’s a long way back to your quarters, so have this be the last time.”

Oraena beams at him. “Thanks daddy.”

Well that’s as good as that’s going to get.

Now hoping the other dilemma is dealt with, you look ahead. And thankfully the boys are seated already with Robb being the one who won the seat across from you, and Daeron sitting next to Ryuu. So now you can finally begin with dinner.

“Now that we’re all seated,” Jon interjects while the last meal is placed across from him. “Let us join in prayer.”

You all grab each other's hands around the table and duck your heads to do as Jon requested.

And you weren’t one much for prayer or religion, but Jon was, and ever since winning the grande war for the throne, he’s made sure to pray as a family before eating. At first it was to give thanks to his gods that you made it out alive. But as the family grew his prayer changed. Now every single evening he thanks his gods for this life he was blessed with, all his kids, and you. Every single day it's the same prayer.

One time Edria asked why it was the same thing every single night, and he put it simply, that once when he was a young man in the Night's Watch, even when he was a boy, he never thought that having a family of his own would ever be a possibility. So now that he has it he thanks the gods that he was blessed, that it's real and it’s not all a dream he has to wake up from.

He made you cry that day he said that.

Alas, now after prayer the eating begins. It’s usually filled with chatter, or depending on the day it’s quiet and calm. Today a few minutes in Edria interjects.

“I have a very important question, for you both mother…” she trails off and glances at Jon taking a bite of his chicken. “Father.”

You put your silverware down and probe with a curious look. “Okay, share it then.”

Edria puts her cup down and shifts in her seat to face both Jon and you better, in doing so showing the scar on her face that she got from secretly sparring with some man twice her age in a competition. She was 10. It was red for weeks, and she was ashamed of it because she said it ruined her beauty because it was long and cut from the bridge of her nose down to the corner of her jaw. But now she’s grown to love the scar.

“How does a woman have a child?” Edria asks seriously, causing Jon to choke on his food, and for the four eldest kids to snicker at both Jon and their curious sister.

“Yes, please tell us,” Ryuu cuts in mischievously.

You let out a shaky breath, and ignore Ryuu. “Uh, why do you ask?” You ask Edria nervously since this is so out of the blue.

“The milkmaid is with child,” Edria explains with her eyes wide as she grows bewildered. “And she’s only 15! 15! and she has no husband.” She falls back in her seat and continues to look at Jon and you.

“Well,” you help her since Jon is taken back that his 11 year old girl is asking such questions. “One doesn’t need to be married to have a child.”

Oraena gasps and leans in to slam her hands agasint the table. “What? So does that mean that I can be with child? I kissed the stable man’s son!”

The four oldest laugh harder, while Jon gasps and snaps his head to the side to shoot her a shocked and angry look.

“Oraena,” he says sharply.

You giggle at the innocence of her worry and shake your head as you grab Jon’s hand to give it an assuring squeeze. “No, silly girl. You don’t get to be with a child by kissing. But how about Edria, you and me talk after dinner about that stuff okay?”

“I can draw you a picture about how it’s done, sweet little sister,” Robb jokes as he leans over towards Edria.

Jon’s gaze snaps to Robb’s and he snaps back. “You won’t do no such thing.”

Robb sits back and snickers as he fist bumps Daeron who also finds amusement in it.

“You can draw it for me,” you hear Ryuu whisper to his brother over the table.

A tap then hits the table at your right, and Aemon begins to sign when you look at him. “Can I know too?”

You part your lips to answer, but Jon does so before you. “I can tell you when you’re older, buddy. Okay?”

Aemon let’s out a deep exhale and nods along slowly, making Jon offer him a soft smile, and for you to end this conversation.

“Now let’s put those matters to bed and focus on another thing, Robb,” you pull him in the conversation. “Why don’t you share with us what we planned earlier, hm?” You grab your silverware again to continue eating.

Robb sets his things down to begin rubbing his knees nervously. “Well since I don’t have a dragon…I want to go to Dragonstone to try and bond with Helios. Uncle Bran says he lives there, so I want to go.”

You hum in agreement and after you swallow your food you add on for him. “Since bonding with dragons isn’t the safest thing, I thought we could all go. Watch out for him, and take advantage of the moment and have a small family trip.” You smile and glance at everyone around the table.

“That sounds like a good idea, mother,” Rhaenyra interjects. “Also gives me a chance to race against father again.” She snickers and sips her wine.

Aemon taps the table and when you look to him he quickly signs. “Can Catelyn, Nymeria and Eira go too?”

You let out a disappointed sigh and shake your head. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I’m afraid they wont make it. It’s just a small trip. But,” you try to assure him as you lean towards him. “Aunt Sansa and uncle Mors, and the girls will come in a couple weeks for a visit. That sound good?”

Aemon nods and grins.

“Really? They’re coming? Great!” Oraena asks with excitement since Sansa’s eldest daughter is 10 just like her, and they get along very well. It’s also why Aemon wants them to come because Sansa’s middle child, Catelyn, is 8 just like him.

“Anyway, Daeron, once we get to Dragonstone, maybe you can bond with a dragon too,” you direct at him so he doesn’t feel left out. “I’ve seen two wild dragons at the Dragonmount. That skinny brown one, and the teal one that looks like Ryuu’s. ”

Daeron meets your gaze and offers you a gentle smile and a light nod. “Yes, I would like that.”

You mirror his smile, and then share your happy smile with Jon.

Now all there’s left to do is hope that either of them bond with a dragon. If they don’t it’s okay, having a dragon doesn’t define them, but they really want to, so you’ll carry hope for them.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

“Boys,” Jon murmurs as he continues to try and progress what he heard Oraena say. “She’s kissing boys.”

You smile at the mirror you’re using as you catch his baffled expression while he lays down.

“How old were you when you kissed a boy?” Jon asks and looks at you through the mirror.

You turn around to face him whilst you continue to spread cream over your arms. “15. But don’t worry, when I asked Oraena she said she was just curious.” You pick the cloth from the vanity to clean your hands. “It's okay to be curious. If we try to forbid them from something they’ll only act out…I know that from experience.”

Jon chuckles softly. “I know that…” he trails off and sighs. “It’s just she’s so young…in my eyes at least. She’s my little girl.”

You begin to smile in awe as you walk to your side of your shared bed.

“What? Soon she’ll stop following me around as well?” He asks, making you giggle.

“Aye, she will.” You tell him the truth as you climb on the bed and crawl to his side. “She’ll grow up, get an attitude, she’ll want to leave and then Aemon will follow and we’ll be alone.”

Once you’re laying beside Jon, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses you agasint him as you both admire the ceiling above. “I suppose it’s what every parent wants right? For them to live their lives,” he whispers. “I was so caught up taking care of them that I forgot that.”

You press a kiss on his chest and then begin to caress his shoulder with your finger. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “They’re all so unique and chaotic…the day is never not eventful,” you laugh. “I never expected that.”

Jon hums softly. “Nor I. I always thought my life was going to be dull and boring in the Night's Watch….now…” he trails off as he can’t find what to say.

You albeit lift your head and meet his gaze. “What would you younger self say if he knew this was going to be your life?” You ask out of curiosity. “I mean you're a prince and have seven kids. Seven.”

Jon begins to smile in admiration and shakes his head softly. “I wouldn’t believe you. I wouldn’t believe it. I was a bastard who was just a burden to my family, a shame they had to hide. At the Night's watch I started from nothing and then rose higher, but I never knew if I would live to see another day…after I left that remained the same. Now—”

“You’re a Prince Consort,” you interject. “A hero of the Seven Kingdoms, my husband, and a father. A great one at that.” You grin at him and then raise your hand to cup his cheek. “Who thought you’d get this far huh?”

“Well I’m a great father only because I have you,” he compliments you and begins to caress your chin. “Without you I don’t know how I would do it.”

You hum softly and press a kiss on his lips. “Sometimes I think war is easier,” you admit.

Jon chuckles and nods. “Oh so much easier. I mean I don’t miss fighting battles, but it was easier. Now here with the kids I have to be careful how I step…one wrong move and someone’s angry at me…like Robb. Albeit with him I don't know where I went wrong. And if I try to retrace my steps I end up more lost.”

You exhale deeply and lay your head back down on his chest. “He’s just feeling left out without a dragon.”

“Is that what he said?” Jon asks.

You nod. “Basically yes. He feels like he doesn’t belong. Like you hate him because of it.”

Jon shakes his head quickly. “Never. I never could.”

“I know, but he’s just feeling insecure. It’s part of growing up, but the best thing you can do is keep trying, okay? Maybe try and talk to him. Take him out. Go hunting, or do something he likes.” You suggest.

Jon’s chest rises as he draws in a deep breath, and then pulls your head down as it falls when he breathes out. “I hope he wants to.” He says.

“Oh, he will,” you assure him. “My only hope now is that if he doesn’t get that dragon he doesn’t spiral. He’s so dependent on getting one. Like if his life depends on it. Is it bad to expect that from him?” You ask quietly as if Robb could hear. “Does that make me horrible?”

“No,” Jon answers without hesitance. “You’re just worried, we know how he is. You’re just preparing so it doesn’t sneak up on you….but I don’t know either…I think we just have to be there for him. Support him.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in agreement.

You’ll still hope he does get his dragon though.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

“I live simply with hope for a better today for tomorrow is not promised.”

You lower your gaze and meet the dark gaze of Rhaenyra as she closes the book in her hand.

“That’s my favorite book,” you tell her. “I especially like it when you read it to me.” You caress her chin and she flashes you a smile.

Due to her being heir, now that she’s older and understands more matters, you like to have her by your side at small council meetings, hearings, really anything to do with Queen duties to get her prepared. It’s why your relationship is stronger now than it was before, because you’re with each other most of the day.

“I know. It’s one of my favorites too,” she says as she flips around to lay on her stomach on the blanket you have over the sand. “What did you draw?” She asks you.

You smirk and hand her your sketch journal to show her the drawing you drew of her as she was reading with her head on your lap.

“I shall have it hanged,” she says. “Maybe in the art gallery at home. I love it. I wish I could draw as good as you.”

“You do have an amazing talent for music,” you comfort her. “You brought your father to tears when you played the harp for the first time, remember?”

Rhaenyra snickers as she drops her head. “Father cries for my smallest achievements. When I become Queen will he sob?” He pokes fun at him.

“I bet you he will,” you play along. “10 golden dragons that he does.”

Rhaenyra glances over at Jon playing some game with Ryuu and smirks. “I’ll take that bet.” She flips back around to lay her head on your lap and takes time to admire the blue sky overhead. “Can I tell you something?”

You hum in agreement whilst you look at Aemon a few feet down the beach flying his kite.

“Robb snuck girls into his chambers last week,” Rhaenyra sells out her twin brother, causing you to snap your eyes to her and shoot her a narrowed gaze.

“What?” You scoff in disbelief.

Rhaenyra nods. “He and Maester Sam’s Jon were getting drunk and probably laying with those woman.”

Oh not Sam’s Jon, you do notice Ryuu’s crush on the older boy. This will break his heart.

“Who else knows?” You ask her and catch Ryuu laughing with Jon.

“Just me and Daeron, just don’t tell him I told you,” she lets you know.

You sigh and look around for Robb and Daeron but they continue not to show up on the beach. “I’ll talk to your father and then talk to Robb. Because if he gets one of those girls pregnant he will have to take care of it.”

Rhaenyra snorts. “Yeah, sure he will. He can’t even wipe his own ass right.”

You lower your eyes to look at her and try not to laugh, but you can’t help but let out a soft giggle.

“Ahh help me!” A shout cuts through the breezes. “Let me go! Daddy!”

You snap your eyes to where it comes from and see Edria wrestling with Oraena in the shore. And just as Jon breaks away from where he is you get up to and rush over to the pair of girls to try and break up the fight.

“Edria, let go of your sister!” Jon yells as he tries to pull her off, but Edria shifts away and shoves Oraena’s face in the water, causing Ryuu to laugh and Aemon to grasp onto you with worry.

“Edria!” You yell out, but it’s like going to deaf ears. The Queensguard try to step in, but you assure them that it’s okay. And luckily Jon manages to break them apart, letting you rush over to Oraena to pull her out of the water.

“Tell me what happened?” You demand from both of them as you grab Oraena’s chin as you notice scratch marks on her face. “Now.”

“Oraena splashed water in my eye after I told her not to and it stung!” Edria shouts and pulls away from Jon. “She—”

“Edria bit me!” Oraena counters and throws her arm up to show the bite mark on her wrist. “And she shoved me in the water!” Oraena looks up at you with her eyes clouding with tears and then glances at Jon. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whines.

You let go of her and then look over at Jon and meet his gaze. You don’t say anything, but you share a speechless conversation through your gazes.

“You’re both grounded, we’ll come up with your punishments tomorrow Oraena,” Jon breaks it to them. “Edria, since you swung first you won’t attend training for a week, nor can you go dragon riding for that same amount of time.”

Edria gasps and twists around to face you with that same disbelief. “Mother, you cannot allow this!”

You nod. “I can and I will, you're sisters, not enemies at war. Now go to separate parts of the beach.”

Edria huffs out before she yells and kicks sand as she stomps away, whilst Aemon steps towards Oraena and signs at her very seriously. “Careful, O, you might want to get that checked out, Edria has rabies.”

Ryuu chuckles loudly and makes sure to let his sister know what was said. “Edria does have rabies! Nice one Aemon!”

Edria spins around quickly and parts her lips to speak, but you shoot her a warning look and she just glares at her bothers before she turns again and continues to storm away.

“Daddy please it was not my fault,” Oraena begs Jon as she begins to follow him towards where Rhaenyra stayed. “You can’t punish me.”

Jon tries not to look at her since he knows he’ll probably give in if he does. “Sorry, O, but your mother is right. You’re sisters, you shouldn’t be fighting.” He tells her.

“Ryuu,” you call out without having to look over at him. “Leave Edria alone. You’ll get her even angrier.”

“Will not!”

You roll your eyes and get ready to add onto the converstion Jon is having, but you’re quickly cut off by a different voice approaching the beach.

“Your Grace, my prince.”

You look up and see Ser May dragging Robb along with her, and you notice he’s sporting a bloody nose. After her follows Ser Podrick with Daeron following at his side, and he has a cut lip.

Great another fight.

“What happened?” You ask as you slowly approach the group meeting you half way

“We found them fighting just in the valley above,” Ser May shares and pushes Robb towards you.

You swallow thickly and glance at both boys, seeing that Daeron lowers his head out of shame, and Robb just glares past you, making sure not to look at either Jon or you.

“Were there any weapons?” You ask the Knights.

Ser Podrick shakes his head. “No, Your Grace. They seemed to be just fist fighting.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. Leave us.” You then look over at Rhaenyra and point your eyes to the castle.

And without fault the two knights do as they were ordered, whilst Rhaenyra takes her siblings along with her, even if they want to stay and gossip.

It’s only once the kids are out of ear shot that Jon interrogates both boys. “I will ask nicely now, what happened? I want the truth.”

Robb meets Jon’s gaze and then yours, but he then drops his eyes and doesn’t answer, letting you press Daeron with a glare.

But he stays quiet too.

“You both are grown men,” Jon raises his voice. “Act like one and tell us what happened now!”

Both boys continue to stay quiet for a moment longer, so Jon steps forward and grabs Robb by the collar of his shirt and presses him with anger. “You are the oldest, Robb, tell me now.”

Robb scoffs and pushes Jon away so he’d let go of him.

“Robb,” you say softer. “Daeron, one of you has to speak. Your mother demands it.”

Just as you think you’d have to repeat yourself Robb grumbles. “Daeron claimed Helios. My dragon! My brother's dragon!” He sneers out at Daeron.

Damn it.

“I told you already I did not do it on purpose,” Daeron argues back softer. “It was not to spite you.”

You and Jon share a concerned look. And rather than trying to solve this, Jon lets you do it since you know more about dragons.

“Robb, it does not work like that and you know it. Yes I am sorry that it happened, but…it was just not fate for you to bond with Helios.” You try to grab his shoulder but he steps back from your touch. “Robb, you can bond with another. This is not the end and nothing to get angry over. Fate did not want it that way, it’s that simple.”

Robb sniffles and then glares at you. “You told me. You promised!”

You shake your head. “I did not do such a thing—”

“We were here for me!” Robb cuts you off abruptly. “But as always Daeron makes it about him!” Robb points at his brother and begins to stomp towards him, but Jon pulls him back. “Helios was my dragon!”

“Helios was no one’s dragon,” Jon rebuttals. “And it’s no reason to be fighting your brother for it.”

“He is not my brother,” Robb hisses and pulls his arm away from Jon’s touch. “He’s the son of a—”

“Robb,” you bellow. “That’s enough. Go to your quarters now. Calm down. We’ll go talk to you again.”

Robb throws his arms up and parts his lips to argue back, but he just glances at all of you before he lets out a feigned laugh and turns to storm away.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t mean it,” Jon tries to assure Daeron. “He’s just angry.”

Daeron glances back at Robb and nods softly. “Yes, I know. You have to know I didn’t do it to be malicious. I found Helios when I was walking down to the beach and I just…” he pauses and his eyes soften as his lips tug to a smile. “I just had this feeling.”

You mirror his soft smile and nod. “Yes, we know that feeling exactly. And I know your intentions are pure. Robb is just…” you sigh. “Angry. Don’t let that ruin your moment. Okay? Celebrate if you must.” You grab his chin and caress it. “Congratulations my sweet sunspot.”

Daeron offers you a sweet smile and nods in comprhension.

You then exhale deeply and look to Jon. “I’ll go talk to the others, explain what happened.” You tell both men.

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your cheek. “Go I want to talk to Daeron.”

You let your gaze linger on both Jon and Daeron once more before you break away and head for the castle alone with your thoughts.

Like why is it that Robb and Daeron can’t get along. And it’s not like no one can get along with Daeron, it’s just Robb who finds his indifferences with him. But why? You nursed the both of them, they got long as toddlers, you don’t favor one over the other, so why?

Sometimes it feels like you’re failing her…Daenerys. You try so hard, but no matter what, Robb can’t find it in his heart to welcome him, to think of him as one of his siblings. It can’t be just because they’re men, there has to be a reason, but what?

“I’m sorry Daenerys,” you whisper to the blue sky.

.

.

.

.

A/N- One more chapter left! 😓 also did you catch the parallels?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

Legolas x Pirate!Reader

- the first time you met, Legolas was having a conversation with his father Thranduil in the throne room

- the conversation was calm and collected, but was interrupted by a swarm of guards charging through the doors, desperately trying to restrain you and your company

- Thranduil was evidently displeased at the intrusion, and upon seeing the attire that you and your friends were wearing, he was considerably unhappy with your arrival

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence, theives?”

- Legolas held the same form as his father then, scowling at the intruders and recognising their clothes to be that of pirates, who are regarded as scum among beings as regal as the elves

- however, when you spoke up, his eyes fell to you, and his mind froze. you smiled confidently, holding King Thranduil’s gaze

“We’re merely looking for a place to rest, Your Highness.”

Thranduil scoffed at this

“Do you truly believe I am ignorant to the ways of people like you? Rats in the dark, if I were foolish enough to let you stay here, you would surely attempt, and fail, to steal from this Kingdom, and that I will not allow.”

in response, it was you who spoke up again, with the same confidence and smug smile etched into your features

“I can promise you that if our intentions were to steal from you, the only sign of our visit would have been a sarcastic letter. We do not fail, and Im afraid that without said letter, you would be none the wiser of our ventures, King Thranduil.”

- your company burst into fits of laughter, as the Elven guards stared in shock at the way in which you spoke to the king. Legolas does little to hide the small smile on his face, his eyes still glued to you

“Perhaps we should allow them to stay, Ada(Father).”

his words brought not horror, but curiosity to his father’s features as he turned to his son

“Why do you suggest I reconsider?”

at this, Legolas stepped closer to his father, in order to speak with him without their guests overhearing

“There is something curious about their leader. Ada, my heart pleads with you, for my mind is at a loss for words.”

“And what is it that your heart yearns for from these people?”

“I only wish to acquaint myself with their leader, who I am drawn to in a way that I cannot yet understand.”

- Thranduil deliberated for a few moments, and in that silence, you raised your voice once again

“Excuse me, what’s Pretty Boy saying?”

Thranduil turns to you, but you shake your head

“Not you, Your Highness, the other pretty boy.”

Legolas looks over his shoulder at you, smiling in amusement, and you wink at him. despite being held back by Elven guards in the throne room of the King, you felt like the only two people in the room

- seeing the fondness forming between the two of you, and being aware of it being the first fondness Legolas has felt for another, Thranduil sighed

“These people will stay in the finer areas of our dungeons. Their wounds are to be treated, they are to be cared for, fed well, and their wishes are to be met only after consulting me. They will decide when to make their leave, they are free to go, but they are not free to wander the Kingdom at any cost. Regardless of my display of kindness, I do not trust any of you, and you would do well to keep that in mind.”

your company all exchanged shocked smiles and cheers of joy, while you broke free from the elf who was restraining you, and a nod from the King meant you were not restrained again

“Thank you for reconsidering, King Thranduil-“ you paused to smile at Legolas “-and thank you for causing him to reconsider, Pretty Boy.”

- with that, you and your company were led to the finer area of the dungeons, which resembled other beautifully decorated and comfortable areas of the castle, with the only distinction between them being the iron bars that kept you all from causing trouble

- Legolas visited you and your company multiple times a day, spending as much time as he possibly could with you. upon realising that your company consisted of your siblings and cousins, he made a point of getting to know them and seeking their approval as well, because be could see how much they meant to you

- after forming a bond of trust with you and your family, Legolas asked for permission from his father to walk the grounds with you. he had gotten to know enough to be sure that you would not steal from the kingdom, and his father knew that if you tried, Legolas would stop you, and so Thranduil allowed for the courtship to begin

- the two of you taught each other knew things everyday about your different ways of life, and you grew admirations for each other’s hardships in their lifestyles

- Legolas would never tell his father, but the way you stood up to Thranduil and remained completely unafraid of him, was very attractive to the young elf

- he found you fascinating in everything you did, especially the efficiency of your work, that he no longer regarded as stealing, but instead had come to understand that you only ever took what you needed, and aside from that the life of a pirate consisted of the joys of travel

- despite being as tough and brave as you were, Legolas easily broke down your walls. the flowers he presented you with while courting you, decorated your hair, and you smiled when you caught sight of them in your reflection. you spoke fondly to him, and of him, and the feelings in his heart were equally matched in yours

- however, after courting in an Elvish fashion, you wanted to demonstrate courting in the traditions of a Pirate, and that could only begin once you were out of the Kingdom

- and so, when your family were fit and ready to leave, you all thanked the king for his kindness, and made your leave

- even with his presuppositions, the king could not deny that he had grown rather fond of your family and their sense of humour. as a result, when you asked his permission for his son to accompany you on a voyage, Thranduil smiled and accepted

- Legolas adjusted surprisingly well to life at sea, his Elven agility came to be very useful in running a ship

- it tested your fondness for each other, because you were the captain, and although he was a prince, he had to put his life in your hands and follow your instructions very carefully, and this was the key to Pirate courtship

- his favourite part of being at sea with you? lying on the poop deck at night and exchanging the different stories you had been raised on about the stars

- and of course, you can always rely on Legolas to come up with something poetic to say when you are alone

“Your eyes are enthralling enough to put the stars to shame, A’maelamin(My beloved).”

“You arent so bad yourself, Pretty Boy.”