#And he saw her across the street telling off the parking guard

[seungrem]

Bang Chan x m!reader

‘Life Without You’ - Part 2 of ?

anon request - Part 1 **

summary: Male!reader and Chan share a connection in their teen years, though a difference in goals and family disapproval cuts their time short. Years later, someone attempts to pick up the pieces they both had left behind.

( overview: part 2, adult & idol chan, adult & non-idol reader, right one-wrong time trope. mentions touchy, persistent, stalker-ish, & avoidant behavior )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story & series - 9k words wtf )

🧸 ( eventual fluff )

🫧 ( super light angst )

☁️ ( y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Milan, Italy was immersed in history and rich culture. Walking alone through the park of a foreign country, ☁️ watched as the trees swayed alongside the stone path in which he walked. The sky was an inky purple, with a few dark clouds floating above. Tall lampposts illuminated the puddles around ☁️, his black dress shoes tapping as he walked toward his destination.

☁️ pinned his black tie down as he felt the wind brush against his white button up. He wore black pants and a black leather jacket- which he was gifted from his boss on their first day of the retreat.

The company ☁️ worked under “invited” a few of their employees on a short vacation to Italy. In reality, the company needed representatives to discuss something with their Italian branch. ☁️ didn’t understand what he was there for, his boss simply stating that his advice was valuable, and that the team needed moral support. He didn’t mind, though, as it was a much-needed break.

☁️ rolled his eyes at the thought of his boss as he finally reached the end of the park walkway. He stepped onto the sidewalk, waiting for the cars to pass before he could walk across the street. ☁️ and the boss’s team were meeting the Italian branch’s representative team at a luxurious restaurant nearby.

☁️ silently prayed to himself as he stopped in front of the large glass doors, sighing.

He was caught off guard as a boy in a suit, who seemed to be in his early 20s, opened the door. He motioned him to step inside.

“Salve, signore. Per favore, entrate.”

☁️ smiled warmly to him, assuming that he was working there.

“Grazie, signore.” ☁️ responded, which was the extent of his Italian skills.

☁️ walked down a small hallway with paintings framed along its walls. The hallway was dim, the only light coming from the spotlights on the ground and the room a few feet away.

☁️ looked around as he stepped into that room, it bustling with people. The ceiling was a shining shade of black with black carpeting. The walls were blue with neon signs illuminating each corner of the room. ☁️ turned to his right, catching the gaze of a girl behind a small desk. Assuming she was the host, he approached her.

“Salve, posso avere il nome della vostra prenotazione?” She spoke loudly, as the voices and music around them were almost deafening.

“No Italiano.” ☁️ basically yelled back in response, him creasing his eyebrows as he felt bad for not being able to communicate.

“Ah.. your name?” The girl felt a bit awkward as well.

As ☁️ was about to respond, he saw his boss approach the desk, waving nonchalantly. His boss wore a crimson-colored suit with a black turtle neck under it. His skin was a bit wrinkled, but you could only tell when up close. The boss’s hair was black with a tint of gray, and slicked back with what seemed like a lot of gel.

☁️ turned back to the girl, pointing at the man walking towards them. She simply nodded, smiling to the male as he yelled a ‘Grazie’ to her. ☁️ pulled his hand out from his side to shake the boss’s hand, but the boss put an arm around the male’s shoulder.

“Most of us are already sitting, come join.”

☁️ could tell he was already drinking alcohol, but couldn’t blame him. He turned his head to whisper into the boss’s ear.

“You should probably lay off the alcohol sir.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should see one of the Italians right now.” He let go of ☁️’s shoulder as they approached the large booth lined with black leather. Around the circular table, nine people sat, only three of them ☁️ recognizing. As the group locked their eyes on him, he put on a flashy smile and began waving to everyone. They all said their hellos, then turning to each other to talk amongst themselves.

☁️ sat next to his boss on the very edge of the seat, his boss intentionally or unintentionally brushing his leg against ☁️’s. Everyone spoke over each other as they all conversed, though ☁️ looked around the restaurant, choosing to people watch rather than participate.

A few minutes passed before their waiter arrived, a tall but younger man. He was attractive, the two catching each other’s glimpses almost immediately.

Ordering a salad, ☁️ watched as everyone placed their orders. As the waiter took his leave, the boss turned to ☁️.

“I’m paying for everything, so order whatever you’d like.”

☁️ turned his head as well. “Thank you, but I had a pretty big lunch.”

“Alright, watch out, though. I’m gonna use the bathroom.”

☁️ slide out of the boot and stood aside for his boss.

-

☁️ continued to watch the people around him, seeing his boss walk down the staircase behind a man in black. When the boss was a few feet away, ☁️ stood up again, allowing him to sit back down. After ☁️ sat, as well, he watched a pair of two younger girls, maybe in their late teens, walk up to that man in black as he was about to sit with his group. One girl was short and slightly stocky, wearing black pants and a white blouse. The other was tall and thin, wearing a long magenta dress. They looked very awkward, though they conversed with the men for a minute or two. The man sat in ☁️’s direction, taking both of the girls’ phones and signing the back of them. Though his face was far away, ☁️ noticed the man’s straight black hair and slanted eyes, him also with a well defined jawline. The man in black handed the phone back to the girls as they thanked him, giggled to themselves on their way back to their seats.

☁️ assumed that the man was famous, choosing to watch another group of people to pass the time.

After a minute of watching a man complain about his food, him received a tap on the shoulder. His boss looked down at him, then to the table where the famous person. ☁️ followed his gaze, catching the death stare that this man was giving him from around 20 feet away.

“Do you know him? Because he seems to know you.” ☁️’s boss said plainly. Trying to figure out who he was, ☁️ looked away after a few seconds.

“Not sure that I do.”

“Why don’t you go talk to ‘em?” His boss nudged him to go over, but ☁️ shook his head.

“No, no, no. Please, it’s fine. He’s probably just daydreaming or something.”

☁️’s boss was going to argue, but one of the Italian company members tapped a fork on his glasses. Raising it into the air, he got the tables attention.

The group finally began discussing the company’s activities and possible issues, though ☁️ only paid attention half of the time. He was surprised that the conversation was flowing so smoothly despite the language barrier.

From what ☁️ understood, the Italian branch was looking to expand to more locations, needing funding from ☁️’s location, the headquarters, to do so. After a while of talking, the waiter brought a few people’s food out alongside two or three other servers. Before he left, he handed ☁️ a very small, folded piece of paper. The server didn’t look at ☁️, making his handoff discreet before walking away as though nothing happened.

☁️ placed the small piece of paper under the table and opened it, the note in neat English.

‘Meet me in the upstairs bathroom.’

☁️ assumed that someone was hitting on him. Rolling his eyes, he crumbled the small note up and threw it into his pocket. He looked over to his boss, who was looking down at his pants.

“What was that?”

“Secret Admirer.”

“Who?”

“Did you miss the ‘secret’ part? It’s anonymous.”

The boss nodded in understanding, taking ☁️’s words as a ‘mind your business.’ ☁️ decided not to do what the note instructed. Instead, he glanced around the room to see if anybody was looking at him, attempting to spot the person who wrote the note. He watched his server approach the table where the supposed famous man was sitting, the two conversing. He watched as the man slipped the server another note, the three locking eyes as he did so. ☁️ felt embarrassment swallow his body, looking away almost immediately.

He kept his gaze on one of the Italian company members as the server approached him with his salad. He placed the bowl down, slipping another note under it. The boy furrowed his eyebrows, feeling awkward as he leaned down to whisper to ☁️.

“He’s very insistent, sir.”

The server hurried away as two other servers brought out the rest of the group’s food. ☁️ chose not to care about the famous guy’s ’insistence,’ instead focusing on the salad he just ordered.

☁️ finished his bowl quickly as his group continued eating. He grabbed his water glass, sipping out of it as he decided to people watch for the remainder of the night. He watched as the famous guy’s group stood up, seemingly preparing to leave. This relieved ☁️, who wouldn’t have to receive any more odd notes.

☁️ realized that he hasn’t read the note under his bowl. Discreetly, he lifted the bowl, grabbed the paper, and placed it on his lap under the table. He opened it slowly.

‘We went to high school together. I just wanted to say hi.’

☁️ grimaced at the paper, thinking of who from high school could possibly be famous, and in Italy at the same time as him. His curiosity got the best of him as he looked over to the group of men, his heart dropping as they all walked towards the exit. One of them departed from the others as they walked through that hallway, the man just standing at the host desk and turning his gaze onto ☁️. The famous man stayed behind, ☁️ noticing him in almost entirely black- dark grey jeans, a black hoodie, black mask, and black shoes. When the man noticed that he caught ☁️’s gaze, he slowly walked over to the staircase beside the bar. Trudging up, he occasionally turned around to lock eyes with ☁️.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” ☁️ whispered to his boss, before heading over to the steps. He passed the host stand, and then the bar, walking up the black staircase lined with dark blue carpeting.

As he reached the top of the staircase, he stared at the man who stood next to the bathroom doors. ☁️ looked around, making sure nobody was near them.

“Who are you?”

The man pulled down his mask, smiling a bit at the boy standing before him. His freckles and v-shaped chin made ☁️ smile as he finally recognized the man.

“It’s been a while, ☁️.”

“Felix, what’re you doing here? And why the secretive notes?”

“I didn’t want to scare you.. How have you been?”

☁️ walked over to Felix, who rested his back against the gray wallpaper. ☁️ noticed a sofa a few feet away from them, motioning Felix to sit down with him.

“I’ve been well. Began my dream job recently, and now I’m here for a few days with the company I work with. Everything’s good. How about you, though? I haven’t seen you since high school.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m well, too. And I meant to reach out, but a lot has changed since I moved.” Felix looked over to the boy with a soft smile. His voice was much deeper than ☁️ remembered.

“Oh, where’d you move to?” ☁️ asked, placing his hands on his lap.

“Korea. I’m in a band now.”

“No way, that’s so cool! Can I see?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Felix said quickly as he pulled out his phone from his back pocket. He tapped on the Spotify app, typing a name into the search bar. ☁️ watched as he clicked on the first option, ‘Stray Kids’ appearing on the screen. His eyebrows creased as he saw Felix with blue hair in the profile picture. What surprised him even more was the 8.7 million monthly listeners that the group had.

“How.. that’s a lot of people.” ☁️ looked up at Felix, who giggled at the comment.

“Yeah, I know. We’ve been doing really well. Wasn’t a fan of the blue, though.” Felix pointed at the picture, making ☁️ smile.

“You’ll have to invite me to a show or two.” ☁️ laughed, half-joking. Felix nodded, taking his phone away and putting it on the sofa.

“For sure, we’re actually in Milan for our world tour. You should come, I’ll invite you backstage and everything.“

“Oh, are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” ☁️ shook his head, though he did actually want to see Felix perform.

“Of course. You and I weren’t as close as you were to..”

☁️ was taken aback when he heard Felix say Chan’s name.

“But, I think it’d be nice if you said hi to him after so long.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“What do you mean?”

“Chan is in the group.”

“What?”

“You didn’t see him? Look to my left.” Felix pulled out his phone and showed ☁️ the picture on Spotify again, tapping Bang Chan’s face. He looked the same, but also different than ☁️ remembered.

“Are you sure that’s Chan?” ☁️ choked on his words, suddenly becoming uncomfortable. Chan hadn’t been on his mind since he went to college, and the boy left a sour taste in ☁️’s mouth after so long. Felix frowned at his reaction, seeming as though he hoped that ☁️ would’ve been more excited.

“Yes. He’s still the Chan he was before.”

☁️ nodded slowly, realizing that Chan must’ve gotten far with the agency he was in during high school. The male realized that he had buried Chan deep in his mind, ☁️’s head beginning to hurt as Felix forced him to dig the memories back up. He exhaled softly.

“I see. I’m very happy to see that you two are well. And still together.” ☁️ smiled genuinely at Felix, who smiled back.

“I’m happy to hear you’re good too, give me your number so that I can text you the concert information. Also tell me where you’re staying so I can send the ticket to you.”

Felix tapped an app and handed the device to ☁️, who typed his number in and made a contact.

“Okay, thanks. The rest of the guys are waiting for me because I told them I was using the bathroom. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

“For sure, it was so nice to see you.” ☁️ lifted his body off of the sofa, Felix following his action. Felix reached out his arms and wrapped them around the male, ☁️ hugging him back. Felix practically squeezed ☁️, the two embracing for a few seconds before Felix let go.

“It was nice to see you, too. I’ll be in touch.” Felix waved as he began down the steps, ☁️ waving back shyly with a smile. As Felix faded out of view, ☁️ fell back onto the sofa absolutely astonished.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Chan. Specifically about the wasted time they spent together in high-school, though ☁️ remembered enjoying it while in the moment. Memories of the boy also brought back memories of his family, who wouldn’t accept him if their lives had depended on it. ☁️ rarely spoke to his parents, doing so once or twice a month. The man sighed and stood up, though he felt nauseous. He spent the next few minutes sitting, the white noise of the restaurant below feeding his motionless state.

“☁️, you okay?” One of the younger guys from the boss’s team approached ☁️ from the top of the steps.

“Yes, just had to make a call.” ☁️ said monotone, him standing up and adjusting his jacket from around his shoulders.

“Oh, ok. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

☁️ muttered a ‘thanks’ before nodding, watching as the man entered the bathroom. Sighing once again, ☁️ advanced down the steps and to his table.

“Why were you upstairs for so long?”

The boss walked alongside ☁️ as the other four company members strolled a few feet behind them. The group was heading back to their hotel, admiring the city on the way.

“Had to take a phone call, that’s all.” ☁️ said, his face still forward. He felt his boss’s eyes on him, the man returning his gaze toward the stone walkway.

☁️ felt his phone buzz through his pocket as the tree branches swayed above him. He pulled the device out, there being a text from an unknown number. The male supposed Felix had messaged, ☁️ tapping on the notification and reading it.

Felix had already sent him the concert ticket- including the date, time, and stadium name. ☁️ smiled, responding with the name of his hotel and his room number, along with a ‘thanks :).’

He closed the messages app and looked at his lock screen. The concert was in two days, and ☁️’s company had four days left in Italy.

The group stepped onto the sidewalk. Waiting for cars to pass, they could see their hotel- it was just a few blocks down the street.

This part of the city was quieter than most, with the only sound being cars roaming or pedestrians chattering. ☁️ and his group crossed the street, the male looking over to his boss after.

“Boss?”

“Yes, ☁️”

“Are we busy in two days?”

“Is that Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Then kinda. We have a meeting at noon at the Italian Headquarters. It shouldn’t be too long, why?”

“No reason..” ☁️ said as the group walked slowly down the sidewalk. “I was just hoping to tour the city a bit more.”

“That’s fine.. Also, would you like to grab coffee with me tomorrow morning?” His boss turned to look at ☁️ once again, his voice becoming soft.

☁️ looked back at his boss, the man’s face holding an empty expression- as if he was tired. ☁️ forgot that the boss was a bit tipsy, wondering how the man was walking so normally. “Feel free to say no.”

“I’m sorry, I was hoping to sleep in before our tour tomorrow. Maybe next time.”

“For sure.”

-

The group’s hotel was extravagant, probably because the company was covering the expenses. With two large, beige columns surrounding the entrance, two glass doors stood between ☁️ and the lobby. As the first to walk through, ☁️ stepped into the breezeway and then the lobby. He stopped at the beautiful floral arrangement that sat in the center of the room, waiting for the rest of his group.

Looking around the room, he noticed two men step out of the elevator beside the front desk. One wore a black mask and a grey cap, with a white shirt and tan cargo pants. The taller one was extremely attractive with long black hair, sunglasses, a plain white shirt and really baggy jeans. He watched as the two walked in ☁️‘s direction, the one with the mask seeming to notice ☁️ looking at them. Feeling awkward, ☁️ turned to his group, who were finally standing next to him. After the two guys walked past, the boss held his hand out, motioning ☁️ to lead the way.

“Ready?”

☁️ nodded his head and walked over to the elevator, everyone’s shoes tapping against the white marble floors. Pressing the button, they waited for the elevator to come back down.

As the door popped open, Felix practically ran into ☁️ as he hurried out.

“Ah, sorry! Oh, wait. Hi, ☁️. Did you see where Channie went?” Felix moved out of the way so that ☁️’s group could walk into the elevator.

“I’m not sure. A guy with a mask walked outside a minute ago though.”

Felix grabbed ☁️’s wrist and began walking outside, ☁️ stumbling behind him. The elevator door closed after his boss’s team watched, visibly confused.

“Felix, what are you doing?” ☁️ sighed.

“Say hi to Chris.” Felix dragged the boy through the glass doors and into the breezeway before ☁️ lightly pulled his hand away. His eyebrows creased together and a nervous chill descended down his body.

“I can’t, Felix.” Annoyed, he spoke softly as to be polite. ☁️ should’ve been walking into his room and getting ready for bed.

“Please, just say hi to him. It’s been a really long time.”

“Why?” ☁️ questioned rather impulsively, tilting his head at Felix.

“What do you mean?”

☁️ hesitated to answer, choosing to look at the ground instead of the man in front of him.

“It’s been a really long time.” ☁️ continued to face the floor, the two standing in silence for a few seconds.

“Do you hold a grudge against him?”

☁️ picked his head up to look at Felix, surprised by the boldness of the question. The two stared at each other again, ☁️ not knowing the answer to Felix’s question. Did he actually hold a grudge against Chan? It wasn’t his fault that the two of them didn’t work out all of those years ago.

“It’s not.. my place to tell you how to feel, but you two were young. If you’re going to see him Sunday night, I think you should.. think about it.” Felix’s voice turned soft, his words feeling as though he was soothing a deep wound in ☁️’s mind. ☁️ looked up and down, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I don’t blame him. It’s just…”

“..difficult to process?”

“Exactly.” ☁️ nodded his head, to then match Felix’s eye contact.

“I understand. I just thought that you’d be more excited to see him, considering your.. you know.” Felix let out a nervous chuckle, a few strands of his black hair getting into his eye. He continued, “This is a sudden.. and.. weird coincidence that we’re all here at the same time. And staying in the same hotel. I’m obviously not going to force you, but maybe we can all hang out later?” Felix anticipated the male’s response with a sympathetic smile.

“Of course, maybe when I’m not dressed like this.” ☁️ smiled and looked himself up and down. He was still in his dress pants and tie.

“Are you free tomorrow?” ☁️ asked timidly. He noticed that Felix hadn’t grown much since high school, but he definitely looked more mature.

“Later in the day, yes. Let us take you out.”

☁️ was about to argue, but the unknown man with black hair approached the glass, tapping on the door lightly to get their attention. He pointed a thumb behind him, as a sign that they should get going.

“Okay? I’ll see you tomorrow, ☁️.” Felix waved goodbye as he stepped out of the glass doors and into the night air. A light wind escaped into the breezeway, causing ☁️’s ties and jacket to flail.

☁️ rose out of bed, rubbing his eyes. It was 11am, so ☁️ took his time to get ready. Repeating his odd interactions with Felix in his head, past memories were all he could think about. The coincidence of him being in the same city at the same time as his celebrity high school friends was a distasteful concept. Equally as distasteful, the concept of Chan throwing ☁️ off pace as he had done all of those years ago made the male sigh. He had gotten over Chan completely after high school, but ☁️ was now in his mid-twenties. He felt immature for wanting to push Chan away and avoid him, having to remind himself that people grow and heal as time passes. ☁️ slept on the idea of seeing Chan today, unexpectedly content with the idea. He took his time getting ready for the day.

-

☁️ held his phone above the nightstand beside his bed. It was 11:40am, and he had received a text message two minutes prior.

Felix: Are you free at 6pm?

☁️ had planned to visit the Lago Maggiore with his company’s team today, though he assumed that they wouldn’t be there for more than a few hours. They were supposed to meet in less than 20 minutes.

☁️: Sure!

☁️ placed his phone back on the nightstand and got dressed, wearing something rather light for the warm day. He made sure to look well-polished for the evening, though.

With four minutes left of their car-ride back to the hotel, ☁️ would have a few minutes to spare before meeting with the guys.

The lake was fun, ☁️ did some touring and took lots of cute pictures- both of himself and with his boss’s team. The sun drained his energy, though, so he planned to go lay for a bit before going out back out.

☁️ rested his head against the car’s leather seat, closing his eyes as the boss drove the group through the busy streets of Milan.

☁️ opened his eyes as his alarm went off at 5:58pm. He reached over to his nightstand, tapping around until his alarm turned off. He slowly rolled off of the bed before stretching, grabbing his phone, and putting his shoes back on. As he reached for the doorknob, a light knock erupted from the other side.

☁️ opened the door steadily to see Chan with his head down, holding a bouquet of white lilies. Startled at ☁️’s quick response, Chan raised his eyebrows and stared at the male.

☁️ stared back at Chan in a state of bewilderment, him frozen entirely. Chan shook off his nerves and curled his lips into a bashful smile. The man admired ☁️ for a few seconds longer before softly handing the lilies over to him. Still confused, ☁️ took the flowers, holding the bouquet as if it were a baby. He wasn’t aware of the blank expression on his face, ☁️ eventually forcing a smile as he looked Chan up and down. The man wore a white shirt under a baggy jean jacket with black straight-legged pants. His hair was dyed light brown, it a little less wavy than ☁️ remembered. The male thought Chan looked tired- his skin was shiny but he had faint bags under his eyes. As he caught Chan’s gaze, he realized that he forgot to acknowledge him.

“Thank you. Please come in.” ☁️ said softly before turning his back to the boy, walking inside. Chan followed him, standing in the hallway as he watched ☁️ remove fake flowers from a vase. The male filled the glass with water, him then placing the bouquet of lilies into it. He walked over to the window, setting the vase on the table below it. ☁️ turned around to face Chan from the other side of the room.

“How have you been?” Chan said, still looking ☁️ up and down. ☁️ leaned on the table behind him, placing his hands on the rim of it.

“Well, and you?” ☁️’s eye twitched as he responded, hoping the man wouldn’t notice.

“I’ve been okay.”

“That’s good.”

Chan nodded his head, looking around the room. He felt awkward and was clearly nervous, though, ☁️ was too. ☁️ decided to break the tension as he walked towards Chan.

“Is Felix in the lobby?”

He passed Chan and opened the room door.

“He… didn’t want to come.”

“Of course he didn’t.” ☁️ mumbled under his breath. Felix had always been sneaky, though his intent was never malicious. It was obvious that the man was trying to set the two up again, but ☁️ couldn’t imagine it.

“Can I invite you out?.. Just us two?” Chan walked up to where ☁️ remained stagnant.

The male didn’t respond, nor did he move as the door slowly closed to a shut. ☁️ breathed silently, completely overwhelmed with the way the past two days have been.

Reuniting with the man that he fell out of love with was painful, and he felt himself wanting to avoid the situation altogether. What did he owe Chan? And after all this time? It wasn’t like Chan had made an effort to reach out after a little less than 10 years.

Chan stood quietly behind ☁️ as he watched the male remain in his stance. After a few seconds of silence, he walked around ☁️, opening his room door.

“I’m sorry, I hope you liked the flowers.” Chan sighed passively, almost as though he didn’t want to say it. The man began down the hallway, placing his hands into his pocket. ☁️ peaked out to watch the man’s figure become tinier in the distance, feeling bad for his silence. Felix’s words crept on him as if he were a ghost or omen.

Whether cause by an epiphany or not, ☁️ had finally comprehended how he felt. He did hold a grudge against Chan, and he felt terribly immature for doing so. Maybe Chan was truly the right person, but the two had connected at the wrong time. Those tropes had always seemed bittersweet, anyway.

It was impulsivity’s influence that convinced ☁️ to run down the hallway and into the area housing the elevator. ☁️ stood with his hands at his side, watching Chan slowly disappear behind the closing elevator doors.

To his surprise, Chan shoved his arm through the opening before it could shut, causing the doors to reopen. Chan took a step forward as ☁️ walked over to him. Before the doors could close again, Chan grabbed ☁️’s wrist and pulled him into the elevator, pulling with such force that the two ended up body to body against the wall. Chan leaned his head down as ☁️ lifted his, the two locking lips almost immediately.

The elevator door closed and ☁️ felt a rush of euphoria trickle down his body, alongside a pair of hands. He wrapped his arms around Chan’s neck as the two continued to make out.

The elevator began to descend, which caused ☁️ to pull away from Chan and look at the declining numbers behind him. The male turned back at Chan, who couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face.

“I really missed you.”

☁️ unwrapped his arms from around Chan, putting them to his side and turning around.

“I’m sure.”

The elevator door beeped, opening to the main lobby level. Two men stood opposite to them.

“S‘cuse us, Seungmin.”

Chan pushed ☁️ from behind after placing a hand on his lower back, the two hurrying out.

“Where are you going?” The man behind ‘Seungmin’ asked, turning his head as Chan walked past.

“Going on a date, I’ll be back.” Chan said after removing his hand from ☁️’s waist. ☁️ didn’t turn around, already pondering about his decision.

“A date, hm?” ☁️ scoffed slyly, as the two walked over to the glass doors. Chan didn’t entertain his flippant remark, simply stating, “Yes.”

☁️ didn’t anticipate having a make out session with his kinda-ex in the elevator, but was somehow a bit less anxious when around Chan now. The two walked through both of the entrances, down the small staircase, and out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m parked in the garage behind the hotel. Just wait here and I’ll spin around, yea?”

Before ☁️ could respond, Chan was already power walking toward the side of the building. ☁️ felt around his pockets, realizing that he forgot his phone and keycard in his room. He cursed under his breath, contemplating on whether or not he should run back to his room and grab it. Wait, how was he going to get in without a keycard? He sighed, walking back inside and towards the front desk, there luckily being no line.

-

☁️ watched as Chan pulled up to the curb in a red car, it seeming to be an older model. ☁️ walked over to the passenger side, though Chan practically threw himself out of the vehicle before he could open the door.

“Stop-” Chan shouted, him rushing toward ☁️ from around the car. Confused, the male took a step back as Chan opened the car door for him. He looked up to ☁️ expectantly, ☁️ rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thank you.”

Chan nodded as ☁️ stepped inside the car.

-

The drive was silent- for the first few minutes that was. ☁️ couldn’t stop looking at Chan as he drove. The sky was transitioning into a purple hue, though its clouds of pink and orange refused to do the same. The street lights eventually turned on sequentially, illuminating the road as night engulfed the city.

“See something you like?” Chan looked over to ☁️, a smirk forming on his lips. ☁️ could tell he was overly confident since the kiss they shared, the male wanting to change that.

“Felix told me you guys were in a band. Wanna play a song for me?” ☁️ was now the one smiling as Chan became visibly nervous.

“If you’d like. You’re gonna have to use your phone, though. There’s nowhere to plug a cord in here.”

“I don’t have my phone, can I use yours?”

Chan furrowed his eyebrows, though he didn’t question it.

“Yeah, it’s in my pocket. Pull it out.”

☁️ reached over into Chan’s pants pocket, grabbing his phone. He tapped on it, a picture of Chan and his group as the wallpaper. He slid up, though the man had a password. As the car came to a stop at a red light, ☁️ shoved the phone in front of Chan. The man looked into it, unlocking the device with facial recognition.

“What’s your band name?” ☁️ asked as he tapped on the Youtube app.

“Stray Kids.”

☁️ almost laughed at him.

“How’d you come up with that?”

“I’m not answering you.” Chan said dully, though he smiled. The man was relieved to hear ☁️ teasing him, the two slowly becoming more comfortable with each other.

☁️ tapped on the first music video that popped up, it being ‘S-class’.

“182 million views? That’s cool.”

“Which ones that?”

“S-class.”

“Watch another, you’re not gonna like that one.”

“Too late, it already started.”

☁️ smiled at Felix as he appeared on the screen, though he jumped back as the rapping started- chan tried not to laugh at him. ☁️ watched the music video intensely, occasionally chuckling at it.

“Any of your group members single? You should give them my number.” ☁️ smiled at Chan, who wasn’t as amused.

“No. I don’t even have your number.” Chan seemed jealous.

“I’m kidding,” ☁️ mumbled, continuing to watch the video.

“Why don’t you have a lot of parts?” ☁️ asked, this time in a serious tone.

“I have more throughout the album.”

As the music video finished, ☁️ nodded his head.

“Very experimental.”

“I said you weren’t gonna like it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. Maybe it’ll grow on me.”

Chan smiled at the comment, his eyes still on the road.

“Listen to the La-La song. You’ll like that one better.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

☁️ tapped on the ‘LALALALA’ music video, it having a much smoother start.

“Felix looks really good.”

“Yeah.”

As the video came to an end, ☁️ smiled at Chan.

“I did like that one.”

“See?”

☁️ closed the app and turned off Chan’s phone, placing it in his lap.

“I’m impressed. Hope I’m hearing those two live.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

The two smiled to each other as Chan pulled into a small parking lot.

“We’re here.”

-

“Hyunjin took me here on our first night. It’s nice, right?”

Chan stood beside ☁️ in a small, open-concept restaurant. The two drove into the countryside, where it was much less crowded. The restaurant featured large glass doorframes with many plants hanging from above- giving the room a comfortable feel.

“Yes.” ☁️ responded, still looking around. A woman brought the two to a table in the corner, Chan sitting against the wall. She handed the two a pair of menus and quickly departed. ☁️ opened the menu, half-expecting Chan to start a conversation, which he did.

"☁️,”

“Yes?” ☁️ placed his menu down to look at the man in front of him. Chan hesitated as ☁️ narrowed his eyes at him, probably making the man even more hesitant.

“Firstly.. I’d like to thank you for coming out with me. I’m very happy to see you again after so long..” Chan avoided eye contact with ☁️ as he said this, making the male smile.

“I’m happy to see you too.” ☁️ replied, genuinely. After the kind gestures and impulsive decisions, ☁️ had put his pride aside to hear Chan out- which he had been enjoying so far.

“I just wanted to say.. that I apologize. I wanted to reach out to you, honestly. I just got so caught up with my schedules and my health- I just..”

“There’s no need to apologize.” ☁️ interrupted.

“No, I need to. It wasn’t right to abandon you the way I did.”

“It was a mutual decision, Chris.”

“Even so, I shouldn’t have let you go. Despite everything. I should’ve kept in contact, and after you went off to school and I became an idol, I tried. I guess you got a new number because my messages would never go through.”

☁️ tilted his head. “So you did try to reach out?”

“You think that I wouldn’t have?”

☁️ looked down at the table, not remembering what could’ve prevented him from receiving Chan’s texts. He simply shrugged his shoulders at Chan’s question.

“Just know I did, but I should’ve done more.”

“Wouldn’t your fans have been angry, anyway?” ☁️ looked up and at Chan.

“So?”

☁️ sighed, knowing that this conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“Chris, when we stopped talking in high school, it was because you always kept me hidden. And all of these years later, I still feel the same way. I’m not going to be hidden in your shadow, and I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” ☁️ spoke so that his voice was concise, yet tender. He wanted to be honest in the kindest way possible.

Chan contemplated ☁️’s words, the two sitting in silence for a moment. He looked over to the waitress as she approached the two, a notepad and pen in hand.

Ordering waters and a small appetizer, the two watched as she smiled and walked away. Chan looked at ☁️ with a blank expression, the male creasing his eyebrows at him.

“If I tell you this, you need to promise me that you won’t be mad.” Chan was serious, but ☁️ rolled his eyes.

“Okay, just tell me.”

“You need to promise.”

“Okay, I promise, just tell me.”

“Actually..” Chan looked up at the ceiling, contemplating once again. “..Let’s talk about it after we eat. I don’t wanna go back and forth.”

☁️ huffed, sitting back against his chair with his arms crossed. He looked at Chan with a somewhat irritated look, forcing Chan to change the topic.

“You know, Felix wouldn’t shut up about you. He’s really happy you’re here.” Chan smiled as he spoke. ☁️ gave the man a small smile back, nodding. “He told me that he was gonna take you out if I didn’t.”

Though confused by his statement, ☁️ he didn’t question it.

“Well, I’m glad I’m here too. He’s a sweetheart.” ☁️ picked his menu back up, quickly picking something to eat before the waitress came back.

“He is.”

-

Chan having ordered a lot, the waitress took empty plates and bowls from the table. ☁️ watched the man finish the rest of his food, there only a few people left in the restaurant.

Sitting across from Chan felt the same as it had in high school- with an unspoken tension between them, ☁️ was still happy to be in his crush’s presence.

“Do you remember when we would sit together after school?” Chan pushed his bowel to the edge of the table, ☁️ stunned by his question.

“I was just thinking about that.”

“I remember you’d always meet me after classes so that we could walk together. And the way my mom would cook you food when you came to my house. You always felt bad when she did.”

☁️ smiled wistfully and nodded.

“Also, when I joined the club you were in just to spend time with you. And when you’d help me with my essays in the library. I had a crush on you for a while before we talked. Then you started avoiding me.”

“I recall both of us avoiding each other after we both decided that it wouldn’t work out.” ☁️ blinked, keeping his gaze on Chan. “I was.. miserable.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

☁️ shook his head. “It’s okay, I don’t really remember it.”

Chan nodded slowly, him then placing his elbow onto the table. The man rested his chin into his hand, softly gazing at ☁️.

“Well, I do. And.. I really hated living my life without you.”

Chan and ☁️ stared at each other, though ☁️ couldn’t help but tear up. He turned his head to the side, looking down at the wooden floorboards surrounding him.

A single tear fell, though both of his eyes have watered. The male looked down at his shirt and lap to see where the teardrop could’ve landed, though there was no sign of it.

The waitress trotted over to their table and placed the check in between the two, thanking them and quickly departing. ☁️ continued to look down, though he thanked the lady back before she walked away.

Chan immediately grabbed the check, walking up to the stand to pay for their food. Embarrassed, ☁️ wiped his face with his sleeves.

Chan approached the table, offering a hand down to ☁️. The male placed his hand into Chan’s as he helped ☁️ get out of his chair. Before resting his hand on the male’s hip, Chan wrapped his arm around ☁️’s back.

The two walked side to side out of the restaurant, only stopping when they reached Chan’s car. Chan moved his hand from ☁️’s waist to his shoulder, placing his other hand on the opposing side. The two now looked at each other, ☁️ noticing that Chan was now the one teary-eyed. Chan pulled the male into a tight hug, ☁️ hugging him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry… I really am. Can I ask you to give me another chance?” Chan kept his grasp on ☁️’s body as the two continued the embrace. ☁️ exhaled loudly.

“You live in Korea, don’t you? It’s not going to work, Chan.” As much as it hurt ☁️ to say, he wanted to remain realistic.

“I forgot to talk about that.” Chan took a step back from ☁️, him grabbing the male’s hands and holding them.

“Oh, yea. What were you gonna tell me before?”

“Let’s get in the car.”

-

Chan pulled out of the parking lot, driving for a minute before turning onto a dirt road.

“This isn’t the way we came.”

“It’s a scenic route. I took it last time I came.”

☁️ looked out of his window to see the town fade into trees.

“What were you gonna tell me.”

“Don’t be mad.”

☁️ looked over to Chan, getting irritated. Chan glanced over, smiling at the boy’s expression.

“So, after Felix saw you in that restaurant you went to yesterday, he met your boss in the bathroom. He asked about you, and they had a pretty lengthy conversation. He learned what you do nowadays, your company’s name, your department, and all that.”

“What?!”

“Felix said that there was a Korean branch happy to hire you. He spoke to them today.”

☁️ laughed out loud, baffled.

“Wait, wait, wait. So Felix was spying on me, got a lead on me through my tipsy boss, and then got me a job in Korea? I don’t even speak Korean.” ☁️ looked over at Chan, still in shock.

“We could be together if you moved.”

“You think I’d just pick up and leave because we bumped into each other? Chris, please be realistic.”

“I can’t let you go so easily, ☁️. I already made that mistake. I need you.” Chan spoke softly and turned to ☁️, the two glaring at each other before Chan noticed the car was shifting off of the road. He harshly turned the wheel, regaining control and continuing through the forest.

“What you need is your eyes on the road.”

“I’m serious, ☁️.” Chan exhaled loudly.

“I’m serious, too. It’s unrealistic. I already told you that I didn’t want to be hidden.”

“I wouldn’t hide you. I’d tell the whole world about you if I could.”

☁️ thought his words were sweet, but he had his mind made up.

“I’m sorry.”

☁️ watched as the city in the distance became closer and closer. It didn’t take the two long to reach the hotel’s garage, Chan pulling in.

Chan parked the car, the two then unbuckling their seatbelts. He pushed a button on the driver’s seat door, a clicking sound following. ☁️ tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“My door won’t open.” He looked over to Chan, the man’s finger hovering over a button. ☁️ looked back at his side’s door, realizing it was locked. He pushed the lock open, though another click sounded.

“I’m not letting you leave until you give me a second chance.”

☁️ rolled his eyes and turned to face Chan.

“I already told you how I feel.”

“Just spend a month with me and see how it goes. Please.”

☁️ pushed the lock up again, Chan clicking the button. He thought about Chan’s offer, though he didn’t want to give the man hope.

“I can’t.”

“I have my own place. You can stay with me.”

“How would you make time for me? How would we be out in public? I refuse to repeat how things were before.” ☁️ gave up and rested his head on the seat.

“That’s what I’m saying. I’d make sure it wasn’t anything like that. I’d take you everywhere that I go. I promise.”

Chan grabbed ☁️’s hand, basically pleading him with puppy eyes. ☁️ glanced over at him, the scene making him smile.

Spending a few weeks with Chan didn’t sound too bad. It wasn’t like he had much going on besides work- no boyfriend, no pets, just an insipid apartment. He really liked Chan, and was truly considering to try it all over again. Considering the opportune circumstances, maybe their fire was meant to rekindle. Maybe they were truly soulmates. ☁️ didn’t want to lose what displayed so much promise.

“I’ll talk to my boss. A month seems too long.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” Chan smiled at ☁️, letting go of his hand. He tapped another button on the door, unlocking the vehicle. The two slid out and walked together up to the hotel entrance. Chan took ☁️’s hand and intertwined their fingers as they walked up the steps.

Realizing that he was supposed to grab a keycard from the front desk, ☁️ let go of Chan’s hand and stepped behind an older person speaking to the worker. After a few seconds, the person walked toward the elevator, ☁️ smiling as the lady recognized him. She grabbed something from behind the desk and placed it in front of him.

“Thank you so much.” ☁️ said as he grabbed the keycard, him then waving goodbye.

“You left your card up there?” Chan asked as they approached the elevator.

“Yeah, when I.. met you at the elevator.”

“Met, hm?”

“Shut up.”

Chan smiled, pulling the male into him as they waited.

The elevator beeped and then opened, the two walking inside. ☁️ tapped his floor number, expecting Chan to do the same after him- except he didn’t.

“Aren’t you going to select your floor?”

“No. I wanna spend more time with you.”

“I’m all Chris-ed out, sorry.” ☁️ smiled as Chan wrapped his big arms around the male’s neck, resting his head onto ☁️’s neck.

“No you’re not.”

The two stayed in that position until the elevator opened, ☁️ dragging Chan to his hotel room down the hall. Swiping his card into the lock, he opened the door and led Chan inside.

“This means you’re coming back to Korea with me, right?” Chan asked as he climbed onto ☁️’s bed. ☁️ grabbed his phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It was 10:49pm, much later than he expected. He had a few messages from his company’s team.

“No. I don’t have a plane ticket or enough packed clothes.”

“You could just come with me and take mine.” Chan rested on his back, watching as ☁️ sat beside him. Chan pulled ☁️’s shoulder down.

“I have to work.” ☁️ now laid in front of Chan, the two looking into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t make me wait long to see you. I’ll miss you too much.” ☁️ turned to face Chan, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. Chan responded by placing a hand on ☁️’s waist, lifting the male to sit on top of him.

“We’ll see.”

Chan continued to rub around ☁️’s waist and behind.

“The very last time you came over, we laid like this, and I remember wanting to kiss you bad. You had to go, though, and I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I also remember when you said your parents didn’t like me.”

“How the hell do you remember everything after so long?”

“How could I forget?” Chan smiled, his soft voice and smooth skin making ☁️ melt from on top of him. The two continued to look into each other’s eyes, ☁️ moving his legs onto each side of Chan’s hips and sitting. Chan grabbed the back of the male’s neck, softly pulling his head into his. The two locked lips, ☁️ trailing his hand down the man’s large chest.

Chan grabbed ☁️’s chin and lifted the male’s lips off of his own. He smiled, at ☁️, utterly enamored.

“I won’t let you go again. Would you let me be your boyfriend?”

“So suddenly?”

☁️ intertwined his fingers into Chan’s as he sat on the man’s waist. Chan simply nodded as ☁️ leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. Not being able to wipe the grin off of his face, Chan anticipated the boy’s response.

“I suppose.. we’ll see how it goes.” ☁️ whispered teasingly, his hand cupping the side of Chan’s face.

“Finally.”

Chan placed his hands on ☁️’s waist again, flipping the two of them over. ☁️ now laid under Chan, who put himself in between the male’s legs.

The moon hung high outside of ☁️’s hotel room window, glistening above thin clouds. Chan placed his lips on ☁️’s neck as those clouds lingered gracefully and uninterrupted through night sky. Within only a few minutes of being alone together, Chan and ☁️ had already tuned out the world around them. Both focused on the man they held close- the one with the beautiful smile and soft touch.

Now that Chan and ☁️ had accomplished both of their dreams independently, having each other in their arms was their only priority. They simply weren’t meant to be apart; rather, their purpose lies in a life with each other.

-——♡——-

BONUS: ( may or may not be a snippet of part 3 )

“Have you been enjoying the concert so far, babe?”

Chan was the last one to step backstage during the intermission, him immediately sitting next to ☁️ on one of the couches. He pulled ☁️ into a hug and rested his head on the male’s shoulder, sweat dripping from his head.

“Yes, but you’re all sweaty..”

“You didn’t seem to mind that last ni-“

☁️ punched Chan’s arm, looking around to make sure nobody heard him, making Chan laugh.

“Be quiet, I’ll grab you a towel.”

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: this took forever sry :,) idk how to feel abt it but hope u guys liked !! ♡ this draft was making my app glitch so bad LMAO. anyway, part 3 is not coming soon- i need to write abt smth else for a while lolzz

-——♡——-

[flowerandblood]

The Golden Cage (4/5)

[modern! mafia boss • Aemond x female]

[warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension, fluff]

[description: Aemond works with the mob and finds a new accomplice. His attention is drawn to his daughter, trying to isolate herself as much as possible from their criminal underworld. Angst, domination kink, a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Several weeks had passed since their kiss and what she'd told him; he did not come to their house, contacting her father only by phone. She felt immense satisfaction at the thought that she had finally taken advantage of his weakness and turned it against him.

She thought that he deserved it.

She tried to forget the pleasant feeling and the shivers she experienced when the tips of their tongues touched each other in a wet dance. She pretended to herself that she felt nothing.

One evening, she went with her friends to a restaurant with delicious Italian food; they celebrated the end of the exam session and a short break between semesters. She managed to pass all subjects with very good results and felt that she was finally slowly regaining control of reality.

She thought that one more year and she would leave, cut herself off from it all.

After a few hours and two drinks that made her head buzz pleasantly, she said goodbye to her friends and headed home, exhausted. She glanced at the Uber app, but all the drivers were busy which didn't surprise her on a Friday night. She decided she'd go find a taxi, as there were always plenty downtown.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye across the street and saw a car with two men in it, watching her intently. She felt an unpleasant shiver, but thought that maybe she was just imagining it.

She skirted them, then heard the sound of the car door opening. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the same men were following her leisurely across the street, a short distance from her.

She felt cold sweat on her back.

Ever since she'd seen the man pointing a gun at her father through the window that day, she'd imagined that someday something would happen to her.

A car would drive past her and someone would suddenly pull her inside, someone would rape her in the park at night, come up to her after class and threaten her. That's why she only walked in the evenings on the main, crowded streets. Now, even with so many people around her, she felt terrified.

She turned into another alley to see if they would follow her, and to her dismay, they did. To make matters worse, there was no free taxi anywhere. She suddenly realized she was near the Black Moon Club.

She felt her heart beating fast, a million thoughts ran through her head. She wondered if this was a good idea, but she had no choice.

She headed towards the club.

She saw from a distance that the same security guards were standing at the entrance as last time, one of them sighed when he saw her.

“Today is also a closed party, little one. No invitation, no entry. Your father is not there today." He said briefly, standing with his arms folded in front of him, he was three times her size and looked down at her with a stony face.

"Just tell Targaryen that the little birdie wants to talk to him." She said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. The man looked at her shocked and opened his mouth to say something, but she was faster.

"Please." She whispered pleadingly.

The man sighed heavily, nodded to his friend, and walked down the stairs, when he opened the door, hard, loud club music could be heard for a moment, the other man pushed her aside with his hand to allow other invited guests to enter.

After a few minutes the first bodyguard returned, this time looking her up and down in some kind of disbelief.

"You can come in." He said and she breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced to the side and saw that the men who were following her were standing by the night lamp, smoking cigarettes, watching her closely.

As she followed him down, she was hit again by the painfully strong music and the suffocating smell of tobacco. It was semi-dark in the club, the lights on the dance floor flickered again and again, stimulating her already terrified and tense body.

She wondered what she was even doing.

She thought that all she could do was beg him on her knees to let her call her father in peace, she just needed to be in a safe place for a while and wait for him there.

The man led her to the back of the club to rooms separated from the rest by glass, apparently some sort of VIP area, from one of the rooms she heard the groans of two people and felt a shiver.

He opened the door for her, and she entered a room that contained only a round table and a long couch surrounding it. The bodyguard closed the door behind her, and the music stopped as if she had suddenly fallen under water. She sat on the couch, only now feeling her legs tremble.

She jumped as Aemond entered the room after a while, he closed the door behind him and looked at her expectantly.

"You're impudent." He said dryly.

She swallowed hard and looked down, embarrassed. She felt her cheeks burn.

"I'm sorry. Two men were following me and I got scared. I didn't know where to go. I just want to call my father from here to come pick me up." She said quietly, without looking at him. Aemond looked at her blankly.

"No coverage here." He replied low.

She looked at him shocked and remembered that indeed, when her father came here she couldn't reach him on the phone. She buried her face in her hands, desperate. There was a tense, awkward silence between them.

“Wait here." He said as he opened the door again, she looked at him, pursed her lips.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry." She said helplessly.

She saw him purse his lips and hesitate. He closed the door, as if he had changed his mind.

She felt her heart pounding loudly.

He was staring at the floor, something in his gaze that terrified her.

"What are you apologizing for?" He asked finally. She swallowed hard, clenching her hands on the couch.

"For how I treated you." She whispered softly. He looked at her and a shiver went through her; he looked like a predator about to rip his prey apart, her breathing quickened.

"Do you realize how thin is the edge you're treading on?" He asked, and she felt her stomach clench, his gaze boring right through her.

She felt something strange in the air, a kind of tension that she couldn't put into words. She felt the air around them thicken and become heavy, she couldn't take her eyes off him.

"Yes." She whispered in a trembling voice, her chest felt hot, her breathing quick and uneven.

"After what you've done even your last apologies won't be enough." He spoke low, pressing his lips together in such a way that she felt a squeeze between her thighs.

She had no idea what was happening to her.

"If you want me to call your father, apologize properly."

There was a long silence between them.

She knew exactly what he wanted.

What terrified her was that she wanted it too.

For some reason, she felt she needed it.

Relaxation, relief, drop of adrenaline.

"Do you want to show me how you get out of your cage?" She asked softly, her voice trembling slightly. She was referring to words that he had told her at the club that night.

She never forgot them.

She saw his pupil dilate in shock, his body shudder, his tongue hit the inside of his cheek with satisfaction.

"Yes." He said low.

She got up on shaky legs, and sat down on the round table in front of him, sliding off her shoes, which fell with a dull thud to the floor. He looked at her clearly in disbelief that it was really happening, he must have wondered if she would humiliate him again.

He approached her uncertainly, menacingly, lust mixed with madness in his eye. He slid his hand into her hair.

"I don't know if I want to hit you or fuck you more." He hissed as he looked at her pale face. She felt a strong shiver run through her.

She trembled with fear, helplessness, lust and desire, her lips parted slightly.

"I wonder the same thing when I look at you." She whispered.

A smirk appeared on his face as he tilted her head back, his fingers tightening in her hair. He smiled in a way that gave her goosebumps, he looked like possessed by something.

"Come on. Hit me. See what happens then." He hissed, teasing her, knowing she was powerless and at his mercy.

For some reason, she smiled at his words. His brow furrowed at the sight, his mouth tightened, he was about to add something else, obviously annoyed by her expression but she cut him off.

"I've got nowhere to run to. I'll never be safe anywhere." She whispered helplessly, honestly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Maybe it would be better for me if you beat me to death right now."

He stared at her intensely, breathing unevenly, she saw in his eye that those were the last words that he would expect from her. He swallowed hard, his lips slightly parted, as if he was thinking hard about something.

"Give me what I want and I will protect you. You and your father." He spoke low, his voice a little softer.

She stared at him in disbelief, her heart pounding wildly.

For some reason she felt a sudden urge to touch him.

Her trembling hand went up to his face, he pulled away at first, refusing to let her touch him, but then gave in after a moment, he squeezed his eye shut as her fingers brushed his cheek.

"What do you want?" She asked helplessly, even though she knew the answer. He looked at her with eye that could burn cities.

His hand on her hair relaxed slightly, he leaned over her, and to his surprise, she didn't move away. A strong shiver went through her as he simply pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes.

Something had changed in his gaze, but she didn't know what. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

She realized that he wanted her to make the first move.

She lifted herself up slightly and brushed his lips, she thought that they were pleasantly moist and full. She heard his gentle sigh, his lips touching hers timidly, their mouth opened, but barely brushed against each other, making both of them shiver.

She thought that those tender, subtle caresses didn't suit them at all, and maybe that was the point.

Maybe none of what they both said was true.

She tangled her fingers in his hair, and he grunted lowly as she pulled him close. He landed between her thighs, his pulsing manhood pressing against her panties, she felt wet all over, her body trembling with arousal. She thought, surprised, that she wasn't afraid of him, she knew that from the very beginning he had some strange, unexplained weakness for her.

She bit into his mouth greedily, squeezing his lower lip between hers, sucking it. She heard his soft, throaty groan and felt her nipples harden at the sound, she wondered what kind of condition she could get him to since he obviously wanted her so much.

He sucked in a quick breath as her hips began to rub against him, pressing against him, her free hand tightened on his back, holding him close, she could feel his cock throbbing under her hard, thirsty and desperate.

She felt his large hand pull up the fabric of her dress and squeezed her buttock, rubbing it as if to test how soft she was. They both gasped into each other's mouths as his hand slid down the other side of her thigh, to her panties, pushing the material away with his thumb, running over her hot, leaking entrance, she sobbed softly at this sudden delicious sensation.

Hearing this, he barely suppressed a groan that got stuck in his throat, he slid his tongue deep into her mouth and, to her delight, began to massage her with intense, circular motions around her clit, teasing her, making the tension between her thighs unbearable.

His touch was intense, calm and tender, not in keeping with his violent disposition and she was horrified to think that she wanted him to fuck her. She shivered as the tip of his finger slid a little into her, his lips leaving her for a moment with the wet click of their saliva.

“You take birth control pills, right? You're not going to make me wear this rubber shit?” He purred, his finger moving in and out of her in a light, calm rhythm, brushing against her top wall where was the point that gave her the greatest pleasure. She had to concentrate very hard to answer his question.

"Y-yes." She just mumbled, unable to get any more out, a grin appeared on his lips at her words. He slid his finger out of her and started undoing his pants, looking at her expectantly.

"Take off your panties." He said with a note of satisfaction, seeing the state in which she was. She swallowed the humiliation that she felt seeing his expression.

She didn't have the strength to fight back.

She slid the fabric off her hips to the ground, and he grunted in satisfaction seeing this. He placed his large hands on her thighs, massaging them steadily, and spread them out in front of him, both of them were breathing fast, feeling what was about to happen, full of desire and heat.

She leaned back, squeezing her eyes shut, as she felt the tip of his cock press against her insides. She spread her thighs wider, wanting to finally feel him inside her, and he slid a bit into her with a low, guttural groan.

He tightened his hands on her buttocks, slid out slightly, then rooted into her deeply, to the very end, filling her tight walls so much that she gasped, letting out a small sound of delight.

She could feel him throbbing aggressively inside her and unable to take it anymore, she began to move her hips towards him, lowering herself against him, feeling pleasant, hot waves of pleasure all over her body. He clamped his hands on her buttocks tighter, stopping her, pressing his face to her neck.

"Wait." He whispered helplessly, twitching inside her greedily, panting softly and she realized then that he was on the verge of coming inside her.

She stroked his hair, for some reason feeling the need to soothe him, embracing him, and after a moment she inhaled the air in surprise, feeling that he returned the hug. They stayed like that for a moment, breathing deeply.

She shivered and moaned in surprise as he felt him begin to move timidly inside her, rubbing her where she needed it, her hands tightened on his buttocks, wanting to feel him more and deeper.

"Harder." She mewled softly, and his hand tightened on the fabric of her dress. He grabbed her hair, this time more gently than before, lifting her head, forcing her to look at him, still moving inside her.

"In a moment. Let me enjoy yourself." He whispered, and she felt a thrill of pleasure run through her at his words, her heart pounding hotly.

His thumb brushed over her lips, lingering on her lower one, parting her slightly, his thrusts slow, sticky and loud. His hand slid under her strap and slid down her dress, exposing one of her breasts to him.

He leaned in, shoving her nipple into his mouth, she moaned loudly in surprise as his hips suddenly began to move faster and harder inside her, the perverted, wet slaps of his thighs against her buttocks resounding over and over again in the room.

She pressed his face against her breast, feeling a shiver of pleasure every time his tongue teased her nipple, she knew that if she kept going like this, she would come.

Her hips responded greedily to his thrusts, impaling on him, allowing him to penetrate her as deeply as possible. They both gasped helplessly, his mouth letting go of her breast as he pressed himself against her wet, lust-swollen lips again.

They began to lick each other with the tips of their tongues, fucking each other more and more brutally, low, uncontrollable moans escaped from their mouths.

"Is it so fucking hard? Is it so fucking hard to be my good girl like you are now?" He gasped into her mouth, his fingers gleaming tight around her hips, her fingers intertwined in his hair.

She moaned in pleasure at his words, feeling a pleasant shiver run through her, feeling her core clench tighter around him. He imposed a fast, intense rhythm, he rooted into her pushing apart the moist, fleshy structure of her insides.

One of his hands released hers, sliding down, his thumb teasing her clit, rubbing against her once in a while, not giving her what she needed. She pursed her lips, pressing her forehead against his, looking pleadingly at him. His face was impassive, he was breathing heavily with her, his gaze black.

"Apologise. Apologize like the good girl you are. I know you can." He hummed with satisfaction, feeling how she tightened on him every time he rooted his swollen cock inside her again.

Her lip quivered, her nipples all hard and showed through her dress, betraying how desperate she was. The tip of his nose brushed hers encouragingly as if to embolden her, their bodies hitting each other with a wet slap.

"I-I'm sorry." She sobbed softly, helpless, her hips responding greedily to his every thrust. "I'm so terribly sorry."

He kissed her passionately upon hearing this, his thumb immediately began to massage her more intensely and faster, a strong shiver went through her. She moaned sweetly into his mouth, meeting his thrusts even faster.

"Fuck. Such a good girl. I'll reward you. I'll make you come and cum inside you." He whispered in a trembling voice, being on the edge himself.

She moaned into his mouth, tangling her hand in his hair, pressing his forehead to hers.

"Cum inside me, cum inside me as many times as you want." She mumbled quickly and leaned back, feeling her orgasm approaching.

He moaned loudly, surprised by her words, his cock pumping chaotically, loudly, and brutally into her, they both threw their heads back and groaned helplessly as their bodies clenched together in powerful orgasms, his cum gushing in waves into her in hot core. Her walls pressed against him, heightening his sensations.

They both moved for a moment longer, surprised at how wonderful it felt, staring at each other with their mouths parted, she swallowed hard as she thought about what she had done. She saw him smirk at the look on her face and exhaled loudly as if he felt relief for the first time in months.

"So you can make a nice apology if you really want to."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9

Others: @okfashionista @toodlesxcuddles @abrielletargaryen @daemonskelitsos

[the-purple-elf]

Daily Writing Challenge - Feb 24

It has been a hot minute since I've written anything, so bear with me and forgive any mistakes! I may have expanded the actual size of the barrier to encompass more territory because I wanted to use that particular spot above the city for the setting. Thanks to @sharpen-jadescythe for showing me that spot!

@daily-writing-challenge

Words: Rumor/Discovery

Ever since the Burning Legion restlessly paced outside the bubble surrounding Suramar City, an oppressive fear had befallen the whole of the city. The streets became deserted; the markets struggled for business and the pleasure houses and luxury shops closed their doors earlier than usual. There was no doubt war had come to their doorstep, and with the undeniable instinct for the elves to close themselves off from contact when anything threatened their shores, their fates had certainly been sealed with no allies to come to their aid.

Xalendyra plucked the gauzy curtains back from the window with a heavy feeling of suspicion settling into her gut. There he was, her wayward husband, slinking out the back door again. This was unlike him, because if there was an errand to be run, he would send the servants. He never did anything himself if he didn’t have to.

Dyra slipped on her cloak and stepped out the back door after him, waving her hand across the path he had stepped across mere moments ago. A faint glow, like a purple mist, revealed his path through the gardens. It was easy enough to use magic on him while he had slept. A simple location spell and she could find him at all times. He was remarkably incompetent at magic, she thought.

And so she followed him, but it was difficult to be stealthy with so few people in the streets. At times his path seemed to use discretion as it skirted into nearby alleys, but his steps along the edge of the canal were hard to follow without being seen, and she often had to slip into pockets of shadow to avoid patrolling guards. His steps wound towards a park on a cliff above Suramar, a scenic spot that was treasured by many as a picnic location, prime for lover’s trysts. Such a place was empty now, and woefully unguarded. 

As she climbed the path with an assist from a levitation spell, she could see a dark cloaked figure standing at a stone picnic table, but he was not alone. Another dark hooded figure stood nearby, and Dyra could make out the sharp spikes of pauldrons underneath the fabric. She couldn’t quite make out who it was, though. She would have to move closer.

What are you up to, dear husband? She rolled this thought around in her head as she crept closer, situating herself behind a tree. She couldn’t hear any words, but could tell by their gestures that the one with the spiky armor had all the power in this conversation. She saw the figure raise a hand almost to strike her husband, and he flinched as an armored gauntlet curled into his collar, and bodily lifted him from the ground. Terror gripped her throat as the figure carried her husband to the precipice of the cliff and dangled him over the edge, his legs kicking vainly. His arms were splayed out in a gesture of surrender and she could hear the panicked babble of his words rise above the normal volume of hushed conversation.

“Please - I am doing all that you asked and more! It would be rather rash to lose an ally such as myself – I assure you – I am more than willing to comply – I just need more time – I – ahh!”

It seemed the figure had no patience for his begging and casually released him from the cliff. Everything seemed to slow to a crawl as she saw him plummet: before she could stop herself, the words of a feather fall spell uttered from her lips, the shimmer of the spell wrapping around her husband’s form before he vanished over the side. 

Dyra scooted painfully along her rear end down the steep path, stumbling in her haste, sharp rocks and branches ripping at the fabric of her clothing. Montremus, she thought with despair. He was repellent and a thorn in her side, but she didn’t want to see him smashed at the bottom of a cliff. Whatever he had gotten tangled up in, she could certainly help him out of it, for her sake too.

She finally got to a place where she could stand up and breathlessly ran to the area she thought he may have landed. It was a lush and well manicured garden, but she could not see anyone standing along the paths. Her gaze drifted upwards, trying to track where he could have fallen, adjusting her expectations with the knowledge of the buoyancy that feather fall offered, which means he might have floated in a more parabolic fashion. Her eyes captured a flutter of movement from the canal and she ran towards it, catching him just as he dragged his sopping form from the water.

“Monty,” she cried out in relief, scrambling to help him climb up the ladder. His cloak and robes clung wetly to his form, tangling around his legs as he tried to right himself, and he crashed into her, taking her down with him. 

“Dyra!? What are you doing here?” He asked, his voice high-pitched and shaking. “You must go home at once!”

Her hands pawed over his soaked body, checking him for wounds. “Are you all right?” She ignored his demand and hugged him despite her feelings that he was a stupid, stupid man and she probably never should have saved him. Perhaps it was to the credit of a fragment of whatever devotion remained that she pressed her warm lips against his cheek. That move startled him into silence because she hadn’t willingly touched him in months.

“Everything is fine - thanks to you, I suppose?” He asked, gently pushing her away and settling his dark gaze upon her. There was tenderness beneath the suspicion glittering in his eyes, which surprised her.

She nodded as he stood and helped her up with him. “I saw whatever it is you were doing. I saw you almost get murdered.”

“My business partner has a little bit of a temper,” he said evasively, removing his cloak and draping it over his arm. “It’s nothing to worry about. As you can see, I was meant to land in the canal.”

He was lying, because it was her application of feather fall that had adjusted his course. He would have been nothing but pudding on the cobblestones if it hadn’t been for her.

“I don’t like the look of this business, Montremus,” she said, fear lacing her tone, causing to be sharper and whinier than she liked. He took her by the elbow and they began their way back to their mansion. 

“Trust me, I’m doing the best thing for our family’s wellbeing.” He was momentarily distracted by the eerie green glow of ships appearing and disappearing just outside the shimmering purple ward around the city. “These are dark times. Our demise is on our very doorstep. Other civilizations have had far less warning and we are fortunate enough to see our fates written on the wall weeks before it actually happens.” 

Dyra’s gaze turned to follow his own. He was referring to the Burning Legion’s attempts to break through the magical barrier that encompassed their city. Their civilization that nearly burst at its seams, confined as it had been to this sphere. She imagined leadership was in a panicked state, day and night, since the invaders appeared. But she trusted them to have a plan, and somewhere in the depths of her mind, she felt detached, as if it was happening to someone else and didn’t wholly affect her future. Perhaps she couldn’t blame Montremus for taking action. Maybe he was trying to bargain with a smuggler to take them out of the city and flee.

“I’m scared,” she said before she realized she had. After a few seconds, she realized he had said nothing, and she turned to look at him. He watched the barrier, seeing dim explosions light the sky as the Burning Legion began to launch ship-fired weapons at the magical shield.

“So am I,” he admitted. They both stared at the beginnings of the assault, hands linked in the dim moonlight.

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 483

McCoy

McCoy watched the screen as he called Christine. Would she answer? Was she busy with homework or chatting with her own boyfriend?

“Leonard!”

“Hi Chris,” he said with a weak smile.

Two more faces leaned in next to Christine.

“Oh. Hi Uhura, hey Jaylah,” McCoy added.

“Where is Montgomery Scotty?” Jaylah demanded. “Is he alright?”

McCoy shifted in the armchair.

“Yes and no?” he answered.

“What happened?” Uhura asked.

McCoy sighed and ran his free hand over his face.

“We went to town. First time since everything happened. Extra guard; Francine. I- I just wanted to take Scotty to get some new tools since his…” Another sigh left him. “Francine wanted to see one of the parks we had passed. We were heading there when Scotty saw someone across the street. He thought it was Khan.”

Christine moved a hand over her mouth. Uhura’s eyes widened while Jaylah’s narrowed fiercely.

“Sarek called the car and sent one of the other guards across to look.”

“Was it him?” Uhura asked.

“I didn’t see. Sarek had us come home and they checked security footage from town here.” He stopped. The girls watched him. “It wasn’t Khan. Just a boy who looked very similar.”

“Oh thank goodness,” Christine breathed out.

“Scotty must have been relieved,” Uhura said.

McCoy shook his head slightly. “He was so certain,” he whispered.

“Where is he Just Leonard?”

“He… he wanted to be alone.” The words hurt, and McCoy blinked quickly to keep the tears forming at bay. He saw Christine studying his face.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He- he didn’t think I believed him. I- I did believe he saw something, someone, but…”

“Not Khan?” Uhura supplied.

“Yeah,” McCoy answered, feeling himself sag further into the chair. “He- I think he’s mad at me. I didn’t know what to do and he wanted to be alone, so I left.”

“Oh Leonard,” Christine said sympathetically.

“With everything…,” Jaylah started.

Uhura nodded next to her. “It isn’t surprising to have your mind play tricks on you after what you two went through.”

“I know,” McCoy agreed.

“Give him time Leo,” Christine said. “He’ll know you meant well once he’s calmed down. Once you’re both settled.”

“I hope so,” McCoy said quietly. “What are they writing?” he asked after a pause.

“Don’t read it,” Jaylah said quickly. “It’s horrible. People are so mean.” The fierce light came back into her eyes.

“They don’t paint Scotty in a good light,” Uhura said. “You either in honesty. Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I know what they like to say about me. It’s Scotty I worry about. Especially what might happen after I turn eighteen next month,” said McCoy. “They held off some while we’ve been underage, but after my birthday…” he shrugged. “I don’t know how bad the articles might be…”

“We’re all here for you,” Christine said. “Hikaru and Pavel said to tell you both hello.”

“Thanks. Tell them hi too.”

“Can do,” Jaylah smiled.

“If we can do anything…” Christine said.

McCoy gave her a smile. “Just listening helped. Thanks.”

“Any time,” Christine replied.

They talked for another minute before McCoy said goodbye to the three girls. He let the PADD drop back on the blanket pile again. He pulled the blanket tight around himself as he drew his legs up and curled sideways into the chair.

How long would Scotty be mad at him? Would he really ask for a room apart from McCoy? His heart began to speed up. He didn’t want to be apart from Scotty at night. He wanted to curl up with him and fall asleep and wake up wrapped around each other.

A tear dropped on his cheek and McCoy wiped it away with his palm. He looked up at the windows. More clouds had gathered and were beginning to darken. It would rain overnight. That was how it usually started on Georgiares in the fall.

Scotty hadn’t seen rain on Georgiares yet. He’d only been there during the hot part of the summer and now the cooling of autumn. McCoy wanted to take a walk around the gardens with his fiancé as the rain fell. McCoy always enjoyed at least one walk in the rain before the weather got too cold. They could watch it fall in the gazebo and listen to it drip in the orchard. The thought made McCoy smile.

His fingers drifted over to tap his ring as he had done so many times when thinking about things he wanted to share with Scotty.

His hand jerked back as he realized what he was doing. He didn’t have a ring anymore. The whole mess of the afternoon had begun because of that. More tears escaped his eyes and he knew he couldn’t wipe them all away.

McCoy’s head lifted as someone knocked on the door. He had locked it when he’d entered. Was it the guard? Who knew he’d be up in the gallery?

Part 484

Scotty

He gently knocked at the door leading to the gallery. A guard had told him that Leonard was there, but Scotty found the door to be locked. Was Leonard okay?

It took a while but eventually Scotty heard a key being turned and only a moment later the door opened a crack.

"Len..." Scotty whispered the name of his love, trying his best not to burst out in tears again.

His fiancé just looked at him for a second and the Scotsman feared that he would send him away. Was Leonard angry with him for behaving like a stupid wee child?

Scotty's heart dropped in relief when the door was finally opened completely, giving him space to fall into Leonard's arms.

"Tha mi cho duilich," he muttered in Gaelic, knowing that Leonard would understand the apology he had learned during summer break.

Leonard just held him close and took a few steps back so that he could close and lock the door again.

Scotty clang tightly to him, didn't want to let go. He had been such a fool to send his love away.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm sorry too."

Leonard lead him over to the couch where they had sat before and they cuddled close together.

Scotty just breathed in the familiar scent of Leonard and felt a hand run through his hair. It was so comforting.

"I... I shouldn't have send ye away. N-not now. Not when we need each other," he stammered in between sobs, but Leonard hushed him again.

"It's okay. You... needed space and time to think. So did I."

Scotty nodded his head against Leonard's chest and when he managed to look up, he could see that Leonard had been crying as well.

Scotty raised his hand and used his thumb to wipe the last stains of tears away. He felt stupid for not having seen before that his fiancé was just as hurt and worried as he was.

"I was... just so hurt that ye dinnae believe me..."

Leonard swallowed and nodded.

"Scotty... I believed that you saw someone. But... I admit that I doubted it was Khan."

It still hurt. Scotty couldn't deny the aching of his heart.

"But... that's just because I know this planet. I know that Georgiares is safe. I grew up here. I know that no one will ever let something happen to me. That... no one will ever let Khan on this planet."

Scotty nodded slowly. He understood that Leonard believed that Georgiares was a safe place. But... could anyone really stop Khan? Was there really no way that he could come to Georgiares?

"I... But what if he has contacts here? What if..."

What if, what if, what if... he was slowly but surely getting nuts. Khan was getting inside his mind. He was trying to destroy Scotty from the inside.

"I... I need help, don't I?"

His voice was just a whimper as he rested his head on Leonard's chest again and closed his eyes.

"Leannan..."

He could hear it. Leonard was scared to say something wrong.

"It's... it's natural that you see him after all we've been through..."

But Scotty slowly shook his head.

"I'm crazy. I'm... mentally unstable."

The words the reporters had used came back to his mind.

Leonard moved a bit and used his fingers to lift Scotty's chin up.

"No, no... don't say that. What makes you think that?"

Scotty swallowed hardly, turning his eyes away.

"The articles," he whispered and Leonard sighed heavily.

"So... you read them?"

Scotty nodded slowly.

"I... I talked to Christine. She told me not to look at them. These damn vultures always write bullshit," Leonard spat out the words, filled with anger.

"But... what if there's truth in it?"

Leonard placed his hand on Scotty's cheek and shook his head. His eyes were so gentle.

"There's not. Whatever these bastards write... it's not true. Only we know the truth about us... and about how we cope with what we've been through."

Scotty sighed and fell silent.

Only now did he notice the sound of rain on the roof. He looked up and his eyes widened in amazement as he looked through the window.

Rain.

"It's... raining."

Leonard smiled softly and nodded.

"Yep. It is."

"But... it's... it's not like rain on Earth."

Scotty sat up straighter, his eyes shining. Every drop... looked different.

Blue, green, yellow, purple...

The raindrops had various colors!

"That's... amazing."

Leonard pressed a kiss onto his lips, before he whispered into his ear.

"Wanna go out?"

Scotty nodded eagerly, not turning his eyes away from the window.

"Aye."

[sabo-has-my-heart]

The First Snow of the Season: Returning Part 2

Warnings: Angst!!! Heart-break, hopelessness, abandonment

Word count: 1570

Avoiding certain locations wasn't easy as you explored the city, smiling at some of the fond memories or the new sights. There were a couple of new parks, a few new businesses, and some of your old favorites were still in business. You’d have to stop by those places at some point. Walking down the street, your feet took you to your old coffee shop, the place that served what you considered to be the best coffee in the city. Stopping, you looked up smiling as you looked at the sign, a smile that turned to a look of horror as you stared through the window. It looked like they were yelling at each other, the cafe patrons either staring at them or trying not to stare at them. Not that you were paying attention to any of that, too frozen at just seeing them to do anything.

Ace ran a hand through his hair as the orange-haired girl yelled at him about something, what he no longer cared.

“Will you fucking shut up!” Ace shouted, catching the woman off guard, “for fucks sakes, will you just leave me alone about this shit! I’ve told you already, I’m fucking trying! Why is that never good enough for you? It was good enough for Y/n! Everyone always compared you and her, praising you, but I think it’s all gone to your damned head! At least she knew when someone was doing their fucking best!” Ace shouted, no longer caring about who was listening and staring.

“Excuse me? Did you just tell me to shut up? How fucking dare you! I’ve been trying to help you better yourself! If it weren’t for me you’d still be working as a fucking barista at that place on 5th! At least I’ve got a respectable job! I’ve got cash, I’ve got people who think I’m worthwhile, what the hell do you have?” Koala yelled, clearly just as furious as he was.

“A god damned hint of sympathy and understanding! You wanna bash baristas? Let’s see you gets your fucking coffee in the morning! It was good hours and good pay at the time, but it just wasn’t fucking good enough! Hell, it paid for my apartment, food, and a bit of cash to spare!” Ace spat back, the two glaring at each other. This had been constant over the past couple of years, it had started slowly after you had left before suddenly snowballing out of control, the couple fighting every other week, if not every actual week. 

“Please, you barely had any cash! How often did I pay for our fucking dates? It was a shit job!” Koala screamed

“You know what, fuck it! You want someone with a great job and lots of cash, go fucking find one! Because I’m not dealing with your bossy, superiority complex ass anymore!” Ace shouted, Koala looking rather taken aback. He was dumping her? Oh hell no! She was the one who was better!

“You think you’re better off without me? Fine! Let’s see how long it takes before you’re crawling back!” she yelled, storming out of the coffee shop, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked out the window. Fuck he missed you, missed how understanding you were. He sometimes swore he saw you still, out of the corner of his eye, in the reflection of a window, but he’d turn around, take a second look and you’d be gone once more. Pausing, he stared out the window. You weren’t disappearing this time. You looked so different, but it was still you. Suddenly you were running down the street, Ace taking off, shouting your name the moment he was out the door. Twisting and turning, sprinting across streets, you desperately tried to lose the black-haired young man. Still, you could hear him shouting out for you, still crying out for you to stop, not that you did. Away, you had to get away, you couldn’t face him. A small cry left your lips as you tripped, not able to run long in your heels. The knees of your outfit scrapped, likely ruining the expensive clothing as you fell to your hands and knees. You tried to scramble up, tried to continue running, only to feel a familiar grip around your arm.

“Y/n, please, stop.” Ace said, breathing just as heavy as yours as he helped you up, still keeping a good hold on you, fearing that you’d try and bolt if he didn’t.

“Let me go, Ace!” you growled, struggling in his grip.

“No! I’m not letting you go! Not… not until you talk to me, at least just speak with me.” Ace pleaded, something, anything to talk to you again. He’d missed you these last 3 years, he’d been hurt that you’d just up and left without telling you. The two of you had been best friends for years, even after he pulled away a little, starting to date Koala, even knowing your feelings for him, he still thought that you were close enough to talk to him about things like that. He’d punched Sabo once he’d found out, hell, he’d done more than just punch the blond, the two had gotten into an all out fist fight. 

“I said let me go! You… you can’t do this to me! I… I’m a powerful CEO! I’ll… you’ll pay if you don’t let me go!” you shouted, struggling, desperate to say anything that would make him let you go.

“And I said no! Not until you talk to me! You left, you just up and left without a word! You can’t do that to me then come back and just run away from me! You can’t just return and not say something, anything, to me!” Ace yelled back, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. You were avoiding looking at him as you struggled. You’d never avoided looking at him, hell you’d never run from him or struggled in his arms. Though perhaps that changed the first day you ran from him, the day you left without a trace. Only Sabo had known where you’d gone and even he had lost track of you after 6 months. 

“You want me to say something? Fine, go. Away. Do something right at least once!” you screamed, Ace’s eyes widening. You’d… you’d never said anything even remotely close to that to him before. You’d praised him, told him how great he was, how great he was doing, you had always asked him to stay, even when there was no need for him to, even when it probably would have been better for him to leave. His hand slid down your arm as he fell to his knees, he didn’t need to look into your eyes to see the anger in them, didn’t need to see the pained glare on your face to feel your scorn radiating from your very being. He felt you try to tug your wrist out of his grip, hand tightening around your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Please… please don’t go.” Ace said softly, tears beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes, the young man looked up at you, the salty liquid starting to cascade down his cheeks, “Please, I can’t lose you again! Please, don’t make me lose you again.” Ace sobbed, eyes pleading with you, begging you to stay.

“How can you lose me again? You never had me.” you snarled, Ace finally seeing the hatred in your eyes, even past the tears that pricked at the edges. He’d never seen you so furious yet so dejected. What he didn’t see was the love that you’d tried to bury under your anger and pain, he didn’t see the longing behind the pain, the heartbreak at seeing him again, at knowing that you still loved him despite your best efforts.

“Do you hate me?” Ace asked hesitantly. There was a pause as you stared at him.

“Yes.” you lied, trying to keep the mask of hatred up. Slowly, hesitantly, his hand left your wrist, head falling as you hurried away, leaving him once more, but this time, he’d never felt more alone.

Sabo looked around his apartment, something felt… wrong. His eyes finally landed on a white envelope sitting on his table. Taking a deep breath, Sabo opened it.

“Dear Sabo, I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly, but there’s just too many painful memories. It hurts too much. I’ve informed the company, if you want it, you have a job at the new branch. I know you, you’d be a great leader, the head of this branch. If you want the job, contact the number on the business card enclosed. Maybe one day we can see each other again, though it might be better if you came to me. -Sincerely, your friend, Y/n.” the paper fluttered to the floor, Sabo’s hands slamming against the table, leaning over it as he tried to steady his breathing. You were gone… you were gone again. He’d hoped… he’d wanted to tell you, tell you how he felt, he’d get his chance this time. But you were gone once more from his life, leaving him heartbroken once more, left to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart, knowing that the reason you’d left was because you were probably doing the same. 

[johnconstantinejld]

Gotham Tales-Penguin

Tritsch-Tratsch Polka, Strauss. I felt tonight needed something comical. One of my personal favourites. Would you stay for the Radzetsky March? That insipid harlequin and her cloth-brained clown were out on the town but last week. His death from having his kidneys eaten out by the acid he fell in came tonight. He was found with a mouthful of blood. She slipped out of town to Doctor Isley’s garden. But, my dear flying rodent, remember that he trained her to be able to turn off her sane exterior when it suits her. She may be calm as a Cygnus olor mated for life, but she could be her successor. I would make sure you keep a seat at your little league for her.

Oh, don’t look at me like I didn’t know. I DO know. Allow me to remind you of the following. One of my favourite chefs was heard to laugh in my direction. The building his restaurant was in suddenly had a new owner who fired all the tenants. Then his girlfriend was deported. Then his best friend was arrested on charges of child pornography, despite claiming he was framed. Then a new tenant moved in next door to him and practiced electric guitar all hours of the day and night. His landlord refused to take his calls.

Then his church, of which he was an active member, suddenly developed an infestation of killer bees. Then, a park he relaxed in was rezoned and redeveloped. It was concrete last time I checked. And then the chef, who was a recovering alcoholic, saw a 24 hour liquor store had opened up across the street from his apartment. Within two months of losing his restaurant, he was found hanging in a public lavatory.

All. Because. He. Laughed.

Was it directed at me? Who can tell?

Consider that a very big deal, good sir. I don’t snitch on fellow rogues easily. But my territory is clearly defined. An emperor penguin will guard his egg, and even if he cannot find an egg, he will stand over a rock, just so he can fake to other penguins that he is doing work. Likewise, penguins are known to push other penguins into water to check if orcas or leopard seals are present.

You might say that’s me. I’ll push you, I’ll rob you of your egg, but you can be assured that you’ll be treated by the best.

What else is on? This Scarface is thankfully dead. I understand the little ventriloquist is actually cured of his obsession and is working for Mr Wayne. How about that? Now, that Mr Wayne could afford Batman’s equipment, and he has a motive if I remember well, but from the idle, vapid and slightly bumbling manner of his public persona, I don’t believe he could be the rodent.

Two Face is still inside. I lent him some books. See he returns them. Don’t want him kidnapped from his cell, do we?

Ah yes, that fascinating feline Catwoman is out and about, ensnaring men and tangling with the female rodent, the Batgirl, myotis lucifugus. Wrapping her little whip around the body. Of course, I have a problem with her. Cat and bird, you know. She stole a little jade statuette of a harpy eagle from my office. Its history was nothing of not, and it had carried no trap, but as I said, ‘One doesn’t steal from another rogue. It’s simply not on’. She’s probably going to pawn it for far less than it’s worth and get pittance. Make sure you get it back.

Remember, I don’t kill. It’s below me. But I can ruin lives.

Oh, and kindly let Commissioner Gordon know that his daughter can visit the Iceberg Lounge as she pleases. Any client who refers to her as freeloader will soon be met by my security detail.

Bon soir, chauve-soiris

Until we meet again.

[crossbowking]

Honey & Whiskey

Summary: (Set throughout series) When the world ended, everything good died along with it. At least, that's what Daryl Dixon thought. But then he met a stranger in the woods and his entire world turned upside down.

A/N: HOLY MOLY. I can't believe it's here! I've been working on this story since October and I'm so excited for y'all to finally read it. This story is absolutely my favorite of all time and it's 20,835 words of pure Daryl POV (which is just *chef kiss*) — that being said, it’s also a slow burn...and I mean an entirely self-indulgent SLOWWWW burn. So strap in, y’all.

PSA: There are mentions of 'Dog' in this story that are sort of non-canon, especially now that we've seen a backstory as to how Daryl actually found him in the show...so for the sake of the story, let's just pretend 10.18 doesn't exist :)

Anywho, please be sure to share your thoughts with me afterward!

Happy reading!

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky alight with brilliant orange and yellow rays.

Daryl tilted his head back, glancing up at the shifting colors as night drew near. The air was crisp, a welcomed change from the usual summer heat. The streets of Alexandria were fairly empty, most already settling into their respective homes before nightfall. Though the unusual silence was near deafening, the archer paid it no mind.

He appreciated the quiet these days.

The grass poked and prodded beneath where he sat, but he simply shifted, drawing one knee to his chest, the other leg splayed out in front of him. He picked absently at one of the holes in his worn jeans, tugging at the string hanging off the fabric.

And then he thought of her.

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath Daryl’s boots as he traversed through the otherwise silent woods.

The farm was destroyed, winter was approaching, and there seemed to be an ever-looming pang of hunger in the pit of his stomach. He pushed away any inkling of weakness, forging ahead with determined strides. His people were waiting for him, hunkering down in an abandoned diner less than a mile East, hoping he’d bring back something to dull the growing ache inside all of them.

Daryl’s steps faltered — ‘his’ people.

The thought had come so naturally it nearly took him off guard. The feeling of community, of belonging, was something he’d never felt in his entire life. It was a strange notion, but that drive, that need he felt to provide, pushed him further out into the forest.

The archer kept his footsteps light, practically imperceptible, listening for noises only a seasoned hunter could distinguish. When a twig suddenly snapped off to his left, he froze, scanning the stillness around him. He raised his crossbow, the weight familiar in his grasp as he took a small step in the direction the noise had come from.

A moment later, Daryl spotted it — a lone raccoon just a few yards ahead.

The archer felt a rush of adrenaline, a tingling sensation in his fingertips as they hovered over the trigger. He exhaled a soft breath, focusing all his attention on the animal. But with his concentration elsewhere, it wasn’t until after he’d pulled the trigger that he’d realized he was no longer alone in the woods.

Daryl spun around, coming face to face with an incredibly grotesque-looking walker, teeth bared, arms outstretched, launching itself towards him. The archer braced his arm against the biter’s throat just in time, grunting under its weight as he stumbled backward.

“Shit,” he snarled through gritted teeth, tossing his unloaded weapon aside as he fought against the attack. Using his free hand, he reached for the hunting knife secured on his belt, grabbing onto the hilt.

But before he could yank it out, the world began tilting rapidly around him.

Daryl’s back slammed against the harsh wooded ground, his foot tangled up in an exposed root. He spat another vicious curse as the walker thrashed on top of him, snapping its mangled jaw closer and closer, growling in starved desperation.

Then suddenly, it stilled.

The archer froze, his gaze locked on the unexpected sight of one of his arrows now embedded through the biter’s temple. He snapped out of his reverie, shoving the dead off his chest and scrambling back to his feet.

And then he saw her.

She stood just a few feet away, her rapid breathing mirroring his own, looking as though she was seconds away from passing out. Her hair was matted by a mixture of blood and dirt, her clothes were torn and ratted, her wide eyes seemingly too big for her gaunt features. She had a nasty cut across her temple, blood dripping down the side of her face, past her neck, pooling at the collar of her shirt.

Daryl’s eyes bounced back up to meet hers — his guarded and calloused, hers unsure and fatigued.

“I’m assuming — this — is yours?” she spoke between heaving breaths, tossing something in his direction, the motion causing her to sway unsteadily.

Daryl glanced down, spotting the raccoon he’d shot earlier now lying at his feet — but the arrow he’d used to kill it was no longer there.

Now, it was lodged through the skull of the walker that’d attacked him.

The archer focused back on the stranger — but before he could respond, her skin was suddenly paling, her body crumpling to the ground like a paper doll.

Daryl stared down at her unmoving form in bewilderment. He could tell by the shallow rise and fall of her chest that she was at least breathing. The cut on her temple was still bleeding, the wound looking fairly recent — his best guess was a concussion or exhaustion. Most likely both.

He took a small step forward, almost hesitantly. But when his approach didn’t stir the stranger, he found himself facing an unforeseen decision.

He could leave her — he should leave her. She wasn’t his responsibility. She was a complete stranger. She chose to intervene, not him. She made that choice. Not him. Her.

Though as he turned to leave, as he scooped up the limp raccoon and shoved it into his bag, as he grabbed his strewn crossbow and strapped it across his back, one thing became startlingly clear.

He couldn’t do it — he couldn’t just walk away.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

He could’ve sworn that day in the woods was an entire lifetime ago.

Rick had nearly lost his damn mind when he’d returned to the diner with not only a small woodland creature in his pack, but a stranger slung over his shoulder.

“Is she dead?” Carl pressed nosily, hovering by the booth where the stranger was now laid out, still unconscious.

Lori quickly intervened, moving forward with one hand on her protruding belly, the other grabbing onto Carl’s shoulder. “Step back, baby. Give Hershel some space to work, okay?” she cautioned, pulling the inquisitive boy away.

“Oh, it’s quite alright — I’m just about done here anyways,” Hershel drawled, setting aside the blood-soaked cloth he’d been using to tend to the stranger’s head wound.

Daryl watched the exchange from across the room, arms folded tight against his chest, ignoring the stares coming from other group members.

The front door of the diner suddenly swung open as Rick marched through. He shot the archer a disapproving look before addressing the others. “I think we’re okay,” he finally spoke, re-holstering his pistol. “If Daryl had been followed here, I’m sure we would’ve known by now. We’ll keep somebody on watch — jus’ as a precaution — an’ get back on the road first thing.”

The archer gnawed on the inside of his cheek as the rest of the group began whispering amongst themselves, clearly distressed about the possible danger his decision may have put them in.

Rick approached a moment later, his steadfast strides immediately setting Daryl on edge. “Can I speak with you?” the sheriff hissed, glancing over his shoulder and locking eyes with Lori’s worried gaze. “In private?” he added in a hushed tone before turning around and storming back outside.

Daryl scoffed under his breath, pushing away from the counter he’d been leaning against and stalking after Rick.

The archer yanked the door open, the cool air biting at his skin as he followed suit. He spotted Rick pacing back and forth across the parking lot, surveying the surrounding woods warily before spinning around and facing him head-on.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” Rick demanded, taking a step forward.

Daryl fought back the instinctual urge to be on the attack. Instead, he took a breath. “What was I supposed ta’ do, man? Jus’ leave her out there?” he countered, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t bring her here,” the sheriff snapped before pinching the bridge of his nose, attempting to collect himself. “We — we have ta’ look after our own, Daryl — you know that. We have no idea who she is, where she came from, who she’s with,” he specified sharply before shaking his head. “That’s jus' not a risk I’m willin’ ta’ take. Are you?”

Daryl held Rick’s gaze for a long moment before looking away, glancing towards the tree line. The sheriff had a point, he couldn’t deny that. But there was something inside him, a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach that said otherwise.

Rick slowly nodded, interpreting Daryl’s silence as an answer. “When she wakes, she’s gone,” he finally resolved, stepping past the archer and back towards the diner without another word.

But Daryl couldn’t let it go. “Hey,” he called after Rick, the sheriff’s strides halting mid-pace as he glanced back, the harshness in his features fading, unveiling a man with nothing but the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Back when Carl got shot, if Hershel had turned us away, what’d ya think would’a happened?”

Rick paused before exhaling a long, heavy breath, some of the fight leaving him with it. “That’s not — it’s not the same —”

“It is,” Daryl interjected. “It’s the same damn thing.”

The air grew quiet as Rick’s shoulders sagged, one hand resting against his hip. “My family…” he suddenly murmured, shaking his head sadly. “I can’t risk it.”

Daryl nodded once. “I get it. After everythin’ with Shane an’ Randall, losin’ the farm the way we did, I get it, man,” he rasped, regarding him earnestly. “But m’ tellin’ ya…this’s the wrong call, Rick.”

The diner door suddenly flung open, interrupting the conversation and revealing a flustered-looking Glenn.

“Uh, hey guys,” he interrupted, sending the pair an awkward wave. “Just wanted to let you know that she’s, uh — she’s awake.”

Rick and Daryl shared a look.

“And kinda freaking out,” Glenn quickly tacked on at the end.

Daryl didn’t hesitate. He stormed past Rick and back into the diner, making a beeline towards the small crowd that had gathered around her.

“— okay, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you, sweetheart,” Lori spoke softly, holding her hands out in front of her as though approaching a caged animal.

The archer pushed through the group, spotting the stranger a moment later.

She was still sitting in the booth he’d initially laid her out in — though now she was huddled away from everyone, back pressed up against the wall, knees drawn to her chest in a cowering stance. Her gaze darted frantically around the room, clearly confused and disoriented and overwhelmed.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to understand why, but he felt a wave of outrage course through him.

“C’mon, people. She ain’t a fuckin’ zoo animal,” the archer growled abruptly, taking a defensive stance in front of the booth and motioning for the rest of the group to move back. “Give the girl some damn space.”

The archer waited until everyone stepped away before turning back around and glancing down at the stranger. He was surprised to see her eyes trained on him — even more surprised at the flush of heat that spread across his chest. He held her gaze a second longer before Rick appeared, parting through the crowd like Moses and the Red Sea.

The stranger shrunk away.

Daryl wondered why the sight bothered him so much.

Rick came to a slow halt in front of her. “What’s your name?” he finally asked, his tone measured and firm.

The stranger did another sweep of the room, as though surveying just how much possible danger she was in. But when her eyes flashed up towards the archer once again, some of her unease faded. “Y/N,” she spoke hesitantly.

Rick nodded slowly before extending his arm. “Rick Grimes.”

Y/N looked at the gesture cautiously. Still, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

She appeared composed but Daryl noticed the slight tremble in her grip.

After a brief shake, Rick grabbed an empty chair and sat down at the end of the booth, resting his forearms against the table. “So, Y/N,” he began, giving the archer a look of resolve. “What happened ta’ you?”

The time after the farm fell was foggy, each day blurring into the next, suffocated by a heaviness the unknown inherently brought. But that day, the day he met her, ran stark against the rest.

Y/N had told her story like Rick asked her to do. She spoke of the small group she’d been staying with and the refuge they’d built, ultimately destroyed by the dead. Everybody had scattered — and if they hadn’t…

Any previous hesitancies the group held melted into understanding and sympathy almost immediately.

Daryl had known Y/N would be accepted into the group. Rick had hardened since the farm, but he wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t be able to turn her away, just as the archer hadn’t been able to leave her out in those woods.

Spending the winter season on the run had been difficult for everyone — constantly running from the dead, cold and bitter nights, supplies growing scarce. The road was unforgiving, proving time and time again how completely fucked this new world was, how things would never return to the way they were, how this was now the new way of life.

Though for Daryl, if he was being honest, it wasn’t all bad — not in comparison to what his old life had given him.

He’d choose a lifetime of running over the stench of whiskey and the sting of belt buckles any day.

The only other person who’d appeared unaffected was Y/N. Besides showcasing a natural skillset in survival, she’d found her place amongst the group with ease — so effortlessly that Daryl hadn’t been able to recall what life looked like before her. She exuded a warmth that people were drawn towards — that the rest of the group clung to during the darkest of days.

But not Daryl.

He’d kept her at a distance, kept her at arm’s length because he refused to let her in as everyone else had.

Little did he know.

Daryl swiped at the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

The Georgian heat was nearly suffocating, blanketing over his body and setting his skin ablaze. He pushed away the discomfort, bending down and grabbing the ankles of one of the many walkers spread out across the prison’s courtyard. He’d lost track of how many bodies he’d dragged out, his group working tirelessly to clean out their newfound home.

The archer had just pulled the limp body through one of the fences, nearing the pickup truck used for disposal, when he heard someone approach.

“Need a hand?”

Daryl stilled — he glanced up, his eyes locking with Y/N’s, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Her hair was pulled back out of her face, a thin sheen of sweat laid out across her forehead. One hand rested on her hip, the other hovered near her face, blocking the sun rays. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up past her elbows, streaks of dirt and blood visible against her exposed skin.

He realized then that she was really rather beautiful.

The intrusive thought caught the archer completely off guard. He quickly turned his attention downward, grunting a half-assed ‘nah’ before continuing his trek to the pickup truck, determined to preserve some space between them.

But instead of leaving, as he’d assumed she would, Y/N remained rooted in place.

Daryl faltered, the expression that flickered across her face hinting that maybe she hadn’t come to just ‘lend a helping hand’. She had something on her mind — he could tell by the way she snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing absently as she shifted her weight back and forth.

The archer dropped his hold from around the walker’s ankles and straightened. “What?” he demanded gruffly, curiosity getting the best of him.

Y/N’s eyes found his as she took a small step forward — Daryl fought back the urge to back up. “I, uh —” she paused, her mouth twisting to the side as though fumbling for the right words. “Just — thank you.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he huffed.

Y/N’s head cocked to the side, seemingly surprised. “I — I don’t know,” she murmured, a soft, sort of bewildered laugh slipping past her lips. “For bringing me here, for introducing me to your people — for everything, I guess,” she expressed sincerely. “You could’ve just left me out in those woods that day — most people would’ve.”

The archer chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling incredibly exposed for some strange reason. “Was nothin’,” he finally grunted, ignoring the prickle of heat at the tips of his ears.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Y/N replied indignantly, like she was offended at the notion that he didn’t deserve her gratitude. “You saved my life.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than for this interaction to be over with — because once that happened, he could go back to maintaining his distance, he could go back to allowing the air between them to be just that. “Figured I owed ya,” he finally mustered, recalling the first day they’d met.

Y/N’s lips curled up into a megawatt smile and Daryl could’ve sworn he’d never seen anything so damn captivating in his entire life. “Okay,” she grinned, sticking her hand out in front of her. “We’ll call it even then.”

The archer glanced down at the gesture before warily reaching forward, taking her hand in his, and shaking once, twice, three times. Her grip was firm and she didn’t seem to mind the grime coating his skin.

When she pulled away, Daryl felt the empty spaces she’d filled set ablaze.

Y/N shot him one last smile before turning around and heading back towards the courtyard. But she’d only made it a few feet when she paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Make sure you eat something, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response — instead, she narrowed her eyes, shooting him a look in mock-seriousness as if to say ‘I’m watching you’. Then her face broke out into another grin before she sent him a small wave — and she was gone.

Daryl watched her leave, unable to pull his gaze from her retreating form.

He tried to ignore the mess his mind was becoming, littered with confusion and insecurity, the nagging voice that lingered telling him he’d never be good enough, strong enough, brave enough for anything other than what he’d always known.

He wouldn’t let her in — he couldn’t let her in.

But as he bent down, grasping onto either ankle of the walker at his feet, he felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips he swore had everything to do with the Georgian heat and nothing to do with her.

A gentle breeze roused Daryl from his thoughts.

He shifted from where he sat, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the pack of cigarettes he kept there.

The package was falling apart, half-crushed, half-wrinkled from everyday wear and tear, but the archer slipped one of the few remaining cigarettes out anyway and caught it between his lips.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that keeping Y/N at arm’s length was a futile attempt — he’d been naive to think it was possible in the first place.

Before he knew it, she’d wormed her way into the forefronts of his mind and found herself a nice, cozy corner to call home. She’d done it as effortlessly as the blink of an eye or the beat of a heart. It just happened — no rhyme or reason, no explanation or logic. It just happened.

Which made leaving that much harder.

“Daryl!”

The archer ignored Glenn’s shout, marching further into the woods and approaching a snide-looking Merle. “C’mon, bro,” the younger brother grunted, worried if they didn’t leave right then and there, he’d change his mind and return to the prison with the others.

Merle’s booming laugh sounded, drawing Daryl from his thoughts. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the man sneered, tossing an arm around the archer’s shoulders. “Looks like somebody decided ta’ grow himself a big ole’ pair a’ cojones while I was gone,” he snarked, pushing Daryl forward and falling in step beside him.

The archer pressed his lips together, swallowing his retort and focusing ahead.

“Hey, wait up!”

The voice that sounded halted Daryl in his tracks. He spun around, spotting Y/N making her way through the forest, her strides long and determined as she headed straight towards him.

“Well, would ya look a’ that,” Merle quipped under his breath, leering at her approach, his tone sending a swell of aggravation through the younger brother.

“Jus’ gimme a minute,” Daryl quickly waved him off, ignoring the prickle of heat creeping up his neck as he trudged towards her.

Y/N came to a stop in front of him, slightly out of breath, her eyes searching his for a long moment.

She seemed to have something to say, a reason for chasing after him — but it was as though she couldn’t get the words together. She glanced down, shaking her head slowly before taking a deep breath. When she looked back up, Daryl noticed a resignation in her gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Are you sure about this?” she finally asked, her troubled expression sending a pang of guilt through him.

Daryl looked away. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure — he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

He shifted his weight, focusing back on her. “Ya watch out for yourself, ya hear me?” he rumbled, pushing away the unexpected worry gnawing at him.

Y/N’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, her defeated expression damn near changing his mind altogether. “I will,” she murmured, a bittersweet smile ghosting across her features.

Daryl held her gaze a moment longer before nodding once, turning without another word.

But he’d barely taken a step when he suddenly felt her grab his wrist and twist him back around.

Before he knew what was happening, Y/N was hugging him. She threw her arms around his middle and squeezed tight, leaving Daryl completely and utterly dumbfounded. His arms hung limply at his sides, caught off guard by the surprising gesture. Though as soon as it’d begun, it ended. Y/N unwound herself from around his body and took a step back, a pink tinge to her cheeks he hadn’t noticed earlier.

She whispered a somber goodbye — though Daryl couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears — and then she was gone.

The archer fought back the urge to follow, telling himself over and over again that he was making the right decision — he was choosing blood, he was choosing family, he was choosing —

“Hey! Where’s my hug at, sweet cheeks?” Merle’s suddenly hollered, calling after Y/N.

She didn’t look back and Daryl fought back the impulse to start swinging.

But Merle just laughed, the noise loud and boisterous as he sauntered forward. “Damn, lil’ brother. Didn’t think ya had it in ya! I was startin’ ta’ think ya played for the other fuckin’ team’,” he jeered, clapping the archer on the back with more force than necessary.

Daryl’s entire body tensed up, his darkened gaze snapping towards his brother. He noticed then that Merle was also watching Y/N — though his eye line was fixated on one specific part of her body…

“Let’s go,” the archer spat under his breath as he spun around and stormed off, his hands balling into fists.

He had to walk away. Otherwise, he’d lose it — he’d give in to instinct, he’d allow the rage coursing through him to take over, and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

So he took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched fists, and dismissed any lingering thoughts of her.

Daryl scoffed at the memory, an unlit cigarette still caught between his teeth.

He pulled out his lighter and flicked his thumb against the wheel, sparking a small flame before inhaling a deep breath. The familiar taste of nicotine and ash filled his senses as he drew smoke into his lungs, immediately feeling a rush of calm flow through him.

Daryl existed in the quiet, taking another long drag of his cigarette. He pulled his legs towards his chest, resting his elbows atop his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. He watched the lit cigarette butt dim and dance between his fingertips, the embers burning off and drifting into the grass.

It’d only taken a single day for the archer to come to his senses — to realize the mistake he’d made in leaving with his brother. And if he was being honest, it’d had nothing to do with Merle. He couldn’t blame his brother because his brother hadn’t changed — his brother was still the same brash, volatile, ill-tempered redneck he’d known his whole life.

No, it was him — he was the one who had changed.

“Would ya slow yer damn roll? I ain’t the athlete I used ta’ be, ya know!” Merle bellowed from somewhere behind Daryl, clearly struggling to keep up with the younger brother’s pace.

But the archer didn’t slow, his strides matching the beat of his pounding heart. He ducked under tree branches and side-stepped exposed roots, the prison growing nearer with each step he took.

It wasn’t until Daryl heard a sudden thud, followed by a viciously snarled curse, that he slowed. He spun around, spotting Merle pushing up off the forest floor.

“Ya good?” Daryl called out, crossing back and reaching down, offering his hand.

But Merle just swatted him away, his expression twisting in contempt as he staggered back to his feet. “Lemme ask ya somethin’,” he growled. “How the hell ya think this’s gonna go, huh? Ya think those assholes are jus’ gonna forget ‘bout everythin’ that happened? Ya think we’re jus’ gonna hug it out an’ sing ‘round the campfire like some kinda damn afternoon special?”

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “Ya —”

“This ‘bout that skirt from yesterday? Huh? That it?” Merle steamrolled over his attempt to interrupt, taking a step forward, the brothers now toe to toe.

Daryl felt a prickle of heat flush the back of his neck, his chest tightening. Merle was just trying to get a rise out of him — he knew that deep down — but damn, was it working. “It ain’t ‘bout her,” the archer growled defensively, fixing him with a glare. “It’s ‘bout survival, ’bout rebuildin’ — ‘bout tryin’ ta’ make somethin’ outta this shit world. It can’t jus’ be us out here, man — not anymore.”

Merle rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, did Officer Friendly force-feed ya that bullshit?”

Daryl stiffened before huffing a breath and waving his brother off. He turned away, determined to continue his trek back home before it was too late — but he’d only made it a couple of feet when Merle called after him once more.

“It ain’t ever gonna work,” the older brother voiced, his usually brash tone dimming into something surprisingly vulnerable. “It — it jus’ ain’t. Not after everythin’ — not after what I did.”

The archer glanced back, watching Merle’s notorious bravado finally melt away, replaced with something he could’ve sworn looked like guilt. “We ain’t dead yet, man,” Daryl rumbled simply. “Still time ta’ make shit right.”

Merle considered his words for a long moment — but before he could respond, the sound of barraging gunfire exploded through the air.

Daryl’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, feeling his stomach drop when he realized where exactly it was coming from.

He took off into a sprint, Merle’s pounding footsteps echoing directly behind him.

Daryl lied to his brother that day.

In his defense, it hadn’t been deliberate. When Merle had questioned his intentions, alluding to the idea that Y/N was the main reason for his urgency to return home, the archer had denied it.

He hadn’t known it back then, but the truth became startlingly clear once he’d made it back to the prison, marched up the pathway leading to cellblock C, and laid eyes on her.

Daryl found Y/N crouched down beside Axel’s unmoving form, one hand resting on his shoulder.

His steps faltered, feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment — but he couldn’t help himself. The Governor had attacked the prison, his people were shaken, and damn it, he just needed to make sure she was okay.

She stood a moment later, turning to rejoin the rest of the group huddled by the fence, her despondent expression filling his bones with a red-hot rage.

But then her eyes met his.

Y/N’s footsteps stilled, her gaze widening in disbelief as she looked at him. A heartbeat passed between them before Daryl noticed how she was holding herself — hunched over slightly, one hand wrapped around the opposite arm, blood seeping out from between her fingertips.

He crossed to her in three long strides, ignoring the heat that flushed his chest the closer he neared.

Instead, he focused on the wound — that he could deal with, that made sense.

Unlike the unexpected and rapid thrumming of his pulse.

“Daryl,” she breathed in disbelief, her voice thick as though the word had gotten tangled somewhere in her throat.

His name sounded like honey the way it rolled off her tongue.

He shrugged off his crossbow and tossed it aside, wordlessly reaching forward and pulling her hand away from the injury. He examined the laceration carefully — which upon closer inspection appeared to be a gunshot wound — though luckily enough, the bullet seemed to have only grazed the side of her arm.

The archer reached into his back pocket, grabbed the red rag he kept there, and gently pressed it against the wound. “Jus’ keep pressure on it, alright?” he rasped, guiding Y/N’s limp hand to rest over the cloth, stalling the blood flow.

He glanced down at her, doing a slight double-take when he realized she was watching him, a slightly strained smile pulling at her lips. “You came back,” she whispered, her eyes warm despite the blood splattered across her cheek, the pallor in her complexion.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, incredibly aware of how little space remained between them. He managed a stiff nod in response, his voice suddenly lost.

But Y/N’s smile merely grew, like the first hint of sunshine after a devastating storm.

And the tightness in his chest finally faded.

The archer inhaled another long drag from his cigarette, the smoke spilling past his lips and disappearing into the growing night.

Returning to the prison had given Daryl a sense of purpose, a sense of hope — he was back where he belonged and the threat of the Governor just didn’t seem so insurmountable anymore.

And then his big brother went and got himself killed.

Daryl stormed across the field that led to the prison’s courtyard, shoulders set, fists balled, eyes rimmed red.

The Governor would pay — he’d pay for what he’d done.

To Glenn, to Maggie, to countless others.

He’d pay for what he did to Merle.

The archer’s footsteps faltered, only briefly, when he spotted Y/N pacing back and forth behind the gate. Her head snapped towards him as he approached, her worried expression melting into relief as she quickly pulled the gate open for him.

“You okay?” she called to him, brow furrowing as she craned her neck, now looking behind him. “Where’s Merle?”

Daryl kept his gaze forward, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he marched past her without a second glance. “Dead,” he grunted, ignoring the prickling sensation growing behind his eyes.

“What?” he heard her exclaim, though he didn’t turn around — he kept his momentum pushing ahead, hellbent on going after the Governor and taking him down once and for all.

No matter what the cost.

He stalked towards where he’d parked his motorcycle, slinging his crossbow over his back and mounting the bike in one swift motion.

But Y/N was just as quick.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she jogged towards him, planting herself in front of the bike, an alarmed look in her eyes. “What’re you doing?”

Daryl felt a swell of anger wash over him, an unusual feeling when directed towards her. “Move,” he growled, using his heel to knock the bike’s kickstand up.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, his intent becomingly startling clear. “No.”

He was caught off guard by her protest, though snapped out of it just as soon — his scowl deepened, his eyes darkening, seeing nothing but redness and fury and Merle’s reanimated corpse flickering through his mind. “Move, damn it,” he snarled once more.

But Y/N stood her ground regardless of the wariness in her gaze. “No.”

The archer’s rage churned inside him, his grip white-knuckled around the throttle. “Ya —”

“Please, don’t do this,” she interrupted his brusque retort, shaking her head. “I promise — I promise — he’ll get what’s coming to him, but Daryl…this is not the way.”

He knew deep down she was right, but he didn’t want to hear it — he didn’t want to hear ration or reason or the pity in her voice.

He didn’t want to hear any of it.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly whispered, emotion clouding her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry about Merle. I’m —”

Something inside the archer snapped. “Ya know what, ya can drop the damn act,” he hissed, springing off the bike and shoving it to the ground with a deafening crash. He ignored the way Y/N flinched as he barreled towards her like a surging storm. “Ya can stop pretendin’ like anyone in this fuckin’ place gave a single shit ‘bout my brother!” he fired back, his voice rising. “Or me, for that matter!”

Y/N recoiled away from him, eyes wide. “I’m —” she started, shrinking under his heated approach. “I didn’t —”

“Forget it,” the archer spat, unable to stop the fervor spewing out of him. “Ya don’t know shit.”

A beat of silence passed as they stared one another down — but the more the quiet stretched on, the more a different emotion began to seep through the archer.

Guilt.

Unable to watch the hurt settling across Y/N’s features, Daryl turned away, allowing his brewing vehemence to carry him across the courtyard and to the doors leading into cellblock C. He paused at the doorway, unable to stop himself from looking back.

He watched Y/N’s head lower, her shoulders drop, before she slowly reached down, grabbing his toppled motorcycle by the handlebars and propping it upright.

The archer swallowed his remorse, buried his instincts, and stalked inside.

Daryl hissed a breath as the burnt end of the cigarette singed his fingertip. He stubbed the flame out against the heel of his boot, flicking the butt away into the grass.

Still, to this day, he felt bad about losing his temper. The anger had clearly been misdirected, but in the moment, he hadn’t been able to get a handle on it — Y/N had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Despite the aftermath of his outburst weighing heavily on him, he’d kept his distance from her throughout the days that followed.

Old habits die hard.

Daryl woke with a start, his eyes snapping open, chasing away lingering images of the nightmare he’d found himself immersed in.

Sleep had never been kind to him, even before everything went to shit — tonight was no different.

He could still see flashes of redness and death, smell the scent of rotting corpses and bloodshed, hear the sounds of tormented screams and anguished whimpers —

Daryl’s thoughts faltered as he quickly pushed up onto his elbows, straining his ears.

He realized then that the whimpering wasn’t coming from just his imagination. No, it was real — and it was coming from somewhere inside the cellblock.

The archer sprang up, untangling himself from the bed sheet coiled at his feet before shuffling towards the doorway. He paused there, his senses on high alert, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he listened carefully.

When another soft cry sounded, he moved from the entryway, slowly slinking past cell after cell and following the noise.

It wasn’t long before he found himself standing outside Y/N’s cell.

Daryl peered into the shadowed room, just barely able to make out the shape of her beneath the covers. She murmured something jumbled and incoherent, her words muffled as though her face was pressed into the pillow. She tossed and turned for a moment before finally settling.

When she remained still, the archer nearly left for his own cell.

But then he heard a quietly gasped sob and began moving forward before he could think twice.

Daryl crouched down beside Y/N’s bedside, turning on the lantern she’d left sitting on the floor. He shielded his eyes from the light until they adjusted before focusing on her.

She was curled up, covers drawn to her chin, faint tear tracks marking the sides of her face. Her brow was knitted, causing lines to form across her forehead — he fought back the urge to reach out and smooth them away.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one sleep was unkind to.

Another soft whimper blew past her lips and Daryl reached for her, gently shaking her shoulder.

Y/N immediately jolted awake, shooting upright, disoriented and alarmed as her bleary eyes darted around the cell.

“Hey, hey,” Daryl quickly rasped, holding his hands out in front of him. “It’s alright.”

“What — what happened?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep, her wide gaze finally settling on him.

The archer shook his head, pulling back slightly, second-guessing his decision to wake her. “Nothin’ — nothin’, alright? We’re okay.”

“What —” she sounded, a bewildered look flitting across her face as she settled her hand against her undoubtedly racing heart. “Are you okay?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed at her question, confused as to why that would be her next question and not ‘what the fuck are you doing in my cell?’ Regardless, he nodded once. “Yeah,” the archer brushed off her concern, sitting back on his haunches. “Ya — uh, ya were cryin’,” he revealed hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck as he watched for her reaction.

Y/N straightened, the top bunk just grazing the crown of her head as she dabbed her fingertip at the corner of her eye, appearing almost embarrassed suddenly. “Oh,” she whispered, wiping away the tears that’d formed.

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Ya alright?” he rasped after a long moment.

She quickly nodded her head, waving off his worry. “Oh, no — yeah, no, I’m fine,” she replied flippantly, shooting the archer a tight-lipped smile.

Despite Daryl seeing right through her bullshit, he didn’t push.

Instead, he nodded once and clambered back to his feet.

But he’d just barely turned to leave when Y/N spoke up once more. “Hey, Daryl?”

The archer faltered, glancing back at her. “Yeah?”

Her demeanor appeared collected, though he could see her hands twisting nervously around the sheet splayed out across his lap. “I —” she paused, seemingly working up the nerve to say what was next. “Are we okay?”

Daryl felt his chest tighten, the heaviness that’d grown between them splintering in that moment. There was something about her words, the smallness in her voice, that had him kicking himself for being so damn stubborn, for not making things right sooner.

She raked a hand through her tousled hair. “I just — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I mean, I wasn’t trying to —”

“Stop,” Daryl cut off her rambling, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was actin’ like an asshole,” he grumbled admittedly, the shame he’d buried creeping back in.

The tension in Y/N’s features softened as she regarded him. “It’s okay.”

For some reason, her easy forgiveness made Daryl’s insides churn.

“Nah, it ain’t,” he shot back sharply, almost wishing she’d curse him out instead. “Wasn’t right ta’ take that shit out on ya.”

“You were grieving,” she justified, her explanation simple and understanding.

Daryl worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching as he stared at the far wall of her cell, his gaze darkening — he didn’t deserve her compassion. “Well, ya probably stopped me from doin’ somethin’ real stupid,” he muttered dryly.

She merely shrugged, still completely unfazed. “Grief makes us do stupid things,” she murmured, defending him yet again. “I am sorry about your brother, you know,” she whispered a moment later, the sincerity in her voice knocking down the wall Daryl had worked so hard to keep between them.

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Merle was no hero,” he finally rumbled. “But he died tryin’ ta’ make shit right,” he mustered, his eyes finding hers amidst the shadows of her cell.

Y/N shot him a small, somewhat sad smile. “Then he didn’t die for nothing.”

Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, feeling as though his heart was moments away from bursting out of his chest. It was as though the cell was shrinking around him, the walls closing in — and the only thing keeping him above the surface was her.

“Get some sleep,” he managed gruffly, turning to leave once more.

“Daryl?”

The archer stilled. “Hm?” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

“Can you stay?” she whispered, so softly he almost missed it entirely. “Just a little longer?”

Daryl shifted his weight back and forth, feeling the overwhelming urge to run, to retreat to his own cell and pretend he hadn’t heard her.

But the slight tremble in her voice, something others surely would’ve missed, pulled him right back in.

The air thickened as he walked towards her, every fiber of his being screaming at him to make a run for it while he still had the chance. Y/N watched him approach, slightly wide-eyed, his steps faltering the closer he neared. She maneuvered slightly on the bed, moving towards the wall as though making room for him beside her.

Instead, Daryl did the most rational thing he could think of — he grabbed the empty mattress on the top bunk, slid it off the frame, and dropped it onto the floor next to her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Oh, you don’t have to —”

“G’night,” Daryl interjected abruptly, avoiding her gaze as he quickly turned off the lantern and laid down. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, his face surely on fire.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Daryl peeked an eye open, certain she could hear his thrumming pulse from where she sat. But a moment later, the bed creaked as she settled back down against the rickety mattress.

He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The archer wasn’t sure how much time passed before Y/N’s breathing evened out, the stranger from the woods all those days ago finally falling into a deep and restful sleep.

He, on the other hand, remained awake until morning came.

She’d asked him to stay and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Not even sleep could take him from her.

Everything changed after that night.

After the people from Woodbury moved into the prison, the demand for supplies nearly tripled. The archer found himself going on runs more often than not, hunting for game or scavenging local businesses — but the days and nights he was home were spent with her.

They fell into a routine of sorts. The days were spent working the fence or tending to things around the prison — but most nights, they’d sneak away from the others and spend hours sitting atop one of the unused watchtowers.

It became ‘their spot’, as Y/N had put it.

Some nights they sat quietly, existing in comfortable silence, watching the vast night sky. Other nights, Daryl would learn things about her — those were his favorite nights.

Y/N would talk about anything and everything — the mundane stuff, the deep stuff, the things in between — while Daryl would rest his head against the watchtower and close his eyes, listening to the way her voice rose and fell. She’d tell stories of her life before the end and her hopes for the future as though there still was one.

And over time, despite the world decaying at its very core, even Daryl started to believe that maybe, just maybe, there could be one.

She became his solace.

Hell, maybe she always had been, but he’d been too damn stupid to realize it.

“I’m sick of hearing myself talk,” Y/N suddenly spoke, a soft laugh following.

Daryl’s eyes snapped open as he glanced over at her, his brow furrowing.

She shifted from where she sat, the side of her face illuminated by moonlight. “Tell me something about you,” she said sweetly, her knee brushing against his as she rested one shoulder against the watchtower, giving him her full attention.

The archer felt his face warm under her curiosity. “Ya know plenty,” he grunted — and it was the truth. He’d told her more about himself than anyone else in his entire life.

“Oh, come on,” she countered and though Daryl couldn’t see it, he sensed an eye roll. “Just one thing? Something I don’t already know and then I’ll leave you alone.”

He huffed a breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, giving in.

Y/N waited patiently as the archer fell into thought, racking his brain for something to share — something even worth sharing. The silence that dredged on wasn’t helping either — if anything, it only added to the pressure. His life wasn’t all that interesting, never had been, never would be.

Daryl snuck a glance at Y/N — well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

“Uh,” he rumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know. Guess I always wanted a dog?” he mustered, the confession coming off more so a question than an actual statement.

Still, Y/N’s face broke out into one of her million-dollar smiles. “I can totally see you with a dog,” she beamed. “You never had one?”

Daryl almost shook his head, but then a faint memory came to mind. He looked away, propping his elbows against his knees and focusing straight ahead.

“When, uh —” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, picking absently at the skin beside his thumbnail. “When I was a kid, I was walkin’ home from school. Found this stray covered in mud, damn near skin an’ bones. An’ so I took it home,” he pressed his lips together before snorting a breath. “Even tied my shoelace ‘round its neck like a leash.”

“Aw,” Y/N sounded softly.

“Mhm,” the archer mumbled, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

After a stretch of silence lingered, she spoke up once more. “But you didn’t keep it?”

Daryl began picking at his skin a little more aggressively. “My old man — he was on a bender. Started screamin’ an’ hollerin’ when he saw me ‘cause he ‘didn’t wanna take care a’ no mangy mutt’,” he bit out, echoing his father’s words from all those years ago. “He threw somethin’ — don’t remember what. Maybe an empty whiskey bottle. Poor dog was scared outta its mind,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It pissed on the floor, right in front a’ him.”

Y/N’s expression turned troubled, her lips forming into a small frown.

Daryl ignored the tightness growing in his throat. “So he tossed the dog in his truck, drove off, an’ that was that — I never saw it again,” he finished, wincing as he ripped a small piece of skin off his thumb, drawing a drop of blood.

“What’d your dad do?” Y/N asked, her voice small.

The archer wiped the blood off onto his jeans. “Don’t know,” he shrugged, glancing over at her. “He never said an’ I never asked.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh.

Daryl turned his head, staring out over the railing and into the darkened forest. He’d never told anyone that story — not even Merle, who’d been doing another stint in juvie at the time. The truth was, he carried a lot of guilt from that day. Sure, he was only a kid, but he was the one who’d brought the stray home in the first place.

Whatever happened to that dog…well, that was on him.

“Hey,” Y/N murmured, gently poking the side of his arm, drawing him back to her. “Maybe we’ll find you a dog of your own someday.”

Daryl quirked a brow, unconvinced.

“You never know,” she shrugged. “What would you name it?”

He scoffed softly in response, shaking his head.

“Come on,” she reached over and poked him once more. “Humor me.”

“How ‘bout this,” the archer relented. “If — an’ that’s a big-ass if — we ever find a dog someday, ya get ta' name it.”

Y/N’s face immediately lit up. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.

She exhaled a breath, her gaze widening. “This…this is a shit-ton of pressure, Dixon,” she whispered, the wheels in her mind, very obviously, turning.

Despite everything, a soft laugh rumbled from deep inside Daryl’s chest, the sound strange and unfamiliar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely laughed — the noise got stuck in his throat, like his body was physically rejecting the sensation.

When he noticed Y/N watching him, a cheeky grin plastered across her face, his skin flushed.

“Okay, okay, let me think…” she grew serious, closing her eyes and resting her chin against her clasped hands. Not even a second later, her eyes shot open. “Got it!”

Daryl motioned for her to continue. “Lemme hear it.”

“Alright,” she shifted, facing him head-on. “Dog.”

The archer’s brow knitted together, his gaze narrowing. “Dog?”

“Dog,” she nodded resolutely.

“Ya — ya wanna name the dog ‘Dog’?” he questioned dubiously.

“Yup,” she grinned, popping the ‘p’.

Daryl rolled his eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Ya got a couple a’ screws loose, ya know that?” he teased, tapping the side of his head.

“Shut up,” Y/N laughed softly, nudging him with her elbow.

A beat of quiet passed between them before Daryl cleared his throat. “We ought'a head back,” he grumbled, starting to stand.

But then Y/N reached out, grabbing onto his hand. “Hang on,” she objected, looking up at him. “Just a few more minutes?” she asked, gently tugging his arm down.

The skin on his hand tingled beneath her touch as her gaze, warm like honey, melted further into his.

Before he could think twice, he found himself settling back down beside her, his hand still intertwined around hers.

Besides, when had he ever been able to say ‘no’ to her?

Daryl could’ve sworn those nights up in the watchtower were the best nights of his life.

Then the prison fell.

And destroyed everything good along with it.

“Do you miss her?”

Daryl’s eyes snapped open, just then noticing the quiet that’d settled over the funeral home. He glanced over at Beth, who remained seated in front of the piano, her kind gaze watching him curiously.

Settling further inside the casket he laid in, the archer turned to stare up at the ceiling, folding one arm behind his head, the other laid out across his stomach. He ignored Beth’s question — not because it wasn’t true, but because he knew if he spoke, if he started talking about her, the hollowness inside his chest would swallow him whole.

“I think she’s still out there,” Beth assured him quietly, steadfast in hanging onto whatever hope she could muster. “I think they all are.”

Daryl grunted softly in response, not trusting his voice.

He wanted to believe that — he wanted nothing more than to believe that Y/N and the others were out there somewhere, somewhere safe. But he wasn’t a foolish man — and he just couldn’t bring himself to feign the kind of certainty that came so effortlessly to Beth.

“‘And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith’,” she suddenly murmured, her eyes glowing against the candlelight, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “Daddy used ta’ quote scripture — that was one of his favorites,” she explained, her voice growing thick at the mention of her father. She pulled herself together before continuing. “I have faith,” her words were resolute, as though not only trying to convince him but herself as well.

The archer huffed a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Got enough for the both a’ us?” he muttered dryly, quirking a brow.

Beth laughed, breaking the heaviness that’d spread. “Sure do,” she beamed before shooting him a meaningful look. “You can thank me later.”

With that, she swiveled around on the bench and faced the piano once more, her fingers dancing along the keys, filling the room with a gentle melody.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man — never had been, never would be.

He didn’t buy into all that bullshit. If there was a God out there…what the fuck was he doing? Where was he? Why didn’t he stop the world from ending? Why did he let the bad destroy the good, time and time again?

He just couldn’t put his faith into something so cruel, so merciless.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man.

But for the first time in his entire life, he closed his eyes and prayed.

The archer felt his throat constrict.

He tilted his head back, looking up at the darkened sky. The sun had melted into the Earth, in its place thousands upon thousands of littered stars, surrounding a glowing crescent-shaped moon.

Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe there was a God out there — some higher power or greater being — who’d been listening that night in the funeral home.

Because somehow, someway, despite all the odds stacked against him…he’d found her.

Daryl felt his lip split beneath another vicious punch, his head snapping to the side.

He was losing strength, his bruised body slowly giving out on him as two of the Claimers continued to relentlessly beat him. It seemed like no matter how hard he fought back, he just couldn’t get the upper hand.

He was outnumbered and unarmed, but as long as their attention remained on him, he wouldn’t back down — because once they were done with him, they’d move on to the others.

They’d move on to her.

Daryl caught Y/N’s horrified gaze from the other side of the road — she was knelt in front of Tony, who had a fistful of her hair in his grip, simultaneously holding Michonne at gunpoint. Y/N was struggling against his hold, attempting to break free, her features twisted in pain.

A low growl rumbled from deep inside the archer, a red-hot rage coursing through his veins as he fought even harder against the two men.

He managed to dodge another punch, but in the process, connected with a swift jab to the ribcage. He exhaled sharply, losing his breath as the two closed in on him once more — though as the archer braced himself for the next strike, he noticed that the men had suddenly frozen in place.

Daryl followed their stares, finally understanding what had caused the abrupt standstill.

Rick was staggering away from the leader of the Claimers, red staining the bottom half of his face — the archer didn’t even realize it was blood until he saw Joe. The man swayed unsteadily on his feet, eyes wide, mouth agape, as his hands reached for where his throat should’ve been.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Michonne grabbed Tony’s gun and turned it on himself, shooting him once. Daryl followed suit, landing a solid hook against the side of Billy’s face. He heard another gunshot ring out but was too focused on the man at his feet to notice. Without any hesitation, the archer stomped the heel of his boot into the man’s skull, killing him instantly.

He backed away from Billy’s crushed form, stumbling over Harvey’s body, a bullet hole now between his lifeless eyes. He spun around, steadying himself against the hood of the car in front of him as he worked to control his heaving breaths. He’d turned just in time to see Rick mercilessly stabbing Dan, over and over again until the man’s center was nothing but a mess of blood and guts.

And then he saw her.

She was still on her knees, though now hunched over beside Tony, staring silently at his unmoving figure.

Daryl pushed away from the truck and rounded the hood, his heart leaping into his throat as he made a beeline towards her. His footsteps faltered the closer he neared, the sight before him suddenly registering — Tony had been shot through the neck by Michonne, but the front of his skull had also been caved in.

His gaze flickered towards Y/N, just then noticing the blood-soaked boulder clasped tightly in her hand.

It took every ounce of strength to not rush forward, to not pull her into his arms and hold her close because damn it, she was alive, she was okay, she was here.

The archer stepped over Tony’s body, slowly crouching down in front of Y/N — when his approach didn’t stir her, a jolt of unease shot through him. Her vacant eyes were trained on the dead man, her features expressionless and ashen. There was a cut just above her eyebrow, a small trail of blood trickling down the side of her face, but other than that, she appeared relatively unharmed.

Daryl gently took her hand in his and carefully unclasped her fingers from around the rock. He tossed the boulder aside before settling down, kneeling opposite her, his deep blue eyes maintaining a watchful look.

The archer brushed his thumb over the back of her limp hand, squeezing softly a moment later.

And then, almost hesitantly, she squeezed back.

Daryl held his breath as her eyes found his, welling with unshed tears, the helplessness in her haunted gaze twisting his insides. “I never killed someone before,” she whispered suddenly, choking on her words as though speaking shards of glass.

He wasn’t used to seeing her this way — she’d always been so steady, a light others were drawn towards, that he’d been drawn towards. And now…well, now he wished the Claimers would come alive so he could rip them apart all over again.

Unable to stand the sight of her broken expression any longer, Daryl reached for her. “C’mere,” he rasped, slipping his hand behind the back of her head and pulling her forward.

Y/N’s features crumpled as she fell against his chest, a hitched sob catching in her throat. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, gripping onto the front of his vest as though he was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He wrapped his other arm securely around her back, keeping her cradled against his body. “S’ alright,” the archer rumbled as she held on tighter to him, her frame trembling as she cried. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya.”

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, woven around one another, his pounding heart echoing hers.

But he didn’t mind — because he’d found her.

And nothing else seemed to matter much with her engulfed in his arms.

The weeks that’d followed nearly destroyed them all.

With unrelenting heat, dwindling supplies, and the hollowness of loss inside each of them, morale had been at an all-time low. The little amount of food they’d managed to scrounge up had been divvied into morsels — though not enough to soothe their aches of hunger. The water supply eventually depleted, leaving their throats raw and mouths like cotton as they walked — day after day, down winding road after winding road, searching for salvation that was nowhere to find.

The line that’d separated them from the dead had become alarmingly thin.

And it’d only been a matter of time before that line disappeared altogether.

Daryl roused from his sleep, somehow feeling even more exhausted than when he first closed his eyes.

He scrubbed at his face, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that’d formed before huffing a breath. The sign of first morning light seeped through the canopy of trees above him, visible through the motionless overgrowth of leaves and greenery. The heat was already suffocating — his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin, his throat desperate for water he couldn’t afford to drink.

But focusing on that, focusing on the discomfort, was much easier than acknowledging the looming darkness that lingered.

The archer pushed up onto his elbows, the forest floor digging into his skin. He scanned the makeshift camp his group had set up, positioned just off the main road. Almost everyone was still asleep, curled up on the harsh wooded ground within the permitter they’d barricaded.

Except for Y/N who was nowhere to be seen.

Daryl felt his stomach lurch as he pulled himself off the ground and staggered to his feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness he felt — it’d been days since he’d eaten, since any of them had eaten. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, tiptoeing around the others as to not wake them — they deserved a few more minutes in a reality that wasn’t as fucked as this one.

The only other person awake was Glenn, who’d volunteered to be on watch. He sat with his back against a large tree trunk, Maggie at his side, her head resting against his shoulder.

Daryl headed towards them, drawing Glenn’s attention. But before he could say anything, Glenn nodded his head towards something on the main road, careful not to jostle Maggie awake.

The archer followed his gaze, spotting Y/N through the trees. He nodded once in silent ‘thanks’, feeling the pit in his stomach loosen as he marched out of the woods and crossed over the asphalt.

Y/N was sitting on the hood of a long-since abandoned car, her feet perched atop the dented front bumper. Her eyes flashed towards him as he approached, prominent dark circles beneath a weary gaze, so unlike the warmth he was used to seeing.

Daryl felt his throat constrict — he could handle his own demons, the heaviness that’d latched onto his bones after the last few weeks.

But hers?

She needed to be okay — he needed her to be okay.

He slid onto the hood, the car dipping below his weight as he settled beside her. A comfortable silence stretched on as they stared down the long and desolate road ahead, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I miss ‘our spot’,” Y/N suddenly murmured, her tone wistful.

Daryl grunted softly in response, the nights they’d spent up in the watchtower flashing through his mind.

He missed it too — he hadn’t known peace like that before.

“God, we had it so good back then,” she exhaled a breath, lowering her head.

The archer peeked over at her, hearing the hint of emotion growing in her words, the sadness she tried to conceal. But she couldn’t hide it — not from him.

He could tell how she was feeling by the steadiness of her breath.

“We still had Hershel…” she whispered, clasping her hands together, her knuckles turning white. “Bob…Tyreese…” her voice cracked slightly before she glanced up. “Beth.”

It was Daryl’s turn to look away.

He couldn’t think about her — not without smelling moonshine and ash, not without feeling the weight of her lifeless body in his arms.

He never got to thank her.

When the prison fell, Daryl had been certain he’d never see Y/N again — that somehow, someway, she’d burned along with it. But Beth…she’d known — she’d known he’d find her again one day.

And he never got to thank her.

“I know you’re in pain,” Y/N’s voice broke through his guilt-ridden thoughts, drawing him back to her. “And I know how easy it is to just shove it down and push it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist,” she looked over at him then, her gaze steady and knowing — and despite the scrutiny, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. “And I’m not asking you to talk about it. But please, just — just don’t pretend like it’s not there.”

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his teeth breaking skin and filling his senses with the metallic taste of blood.

When Y/N reached towards him, he stiffened.

She slowly brushed away the hair that fell in front of his eyes, smoothing the strands back out of his face. “You’re not carved out of stone, Daryl,” she murmured gently before resting her palm against his flushed cheek.

The air suddenly thickened, the archer becoming painfully aware of how little space remained between them. There was a pull — almost magnetic — that urged him to lean closer, to draw nearer, to take her in his arms and shut out the rest of the world.

But before he could give into instinct, he pulled away and hopped off the hood of the car, landing on his feet with a huff.

Daryl looked anywhere but at her, ignoring the slight tremble in his fingertips. “M’ gonna —” he quickly cleared the thickness in his throat. “M’ gonna take a look ‘round — see what I can see.”

Y/N was quiet, though the archer didn’t dare look at her. “Okay,” she finally sounded — and even though Daryl couldn’t see her expression, he could hear the tangible defeat in her tone.

He clenched his jaw, kicking himself for being the source of her disappointment as he beelined towards the woods on the other side of the road, opposite the campsite.

But he’d only taken a couple of steps when he faltered, realizing then that he couldn’t just walk away — he’d never been able to just walk away.

Not from her.

“I hear ya,” he rasped, glancing back at her, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. “Ya know, what ya were sayin’ before an’ — an’ all that. I jus’ — I hear ya,” he mustered, the jumbled explanation all he could offer.

A tired smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “I know,” she assured him softly.

Daryl held her gaze before nodding once, turning without another word, and disappearing into the trees.

A newfound determination coursed through the archer as he ventured further into the woods — there had to be something else out there, somewhere his people could call ‘home’. They couldn’t keep going on like this, fighting day-to-day just to survive — it couldn’t be them and the dead anymore.

There had to be something else, something more.

The world couldn’t be all bad.

Not the same world that’d given him her.

Daryl pulled his gaze away from the darkened sky.

His eyes trailed over the towering gates that surrounded Alexandria — sturdy iron sheets and impenetrable steel, the only thing keeping away the dead that roamed just outside them. He brushed his fingers over the ground, tugging at the overgrown blades of grass beneath where he sat as he fell back in thought.

Despite his initial doubt that Alexandria was all it promised to be, in time, the community had proven him wrong. Sure, there were fractures in its foundation, but it was better than nothing.

It was better than before.

And for the first time since the end of everything, there was hope for a future.

Smoke spilled past the archer’s lips, wafting in front of him before disappearing into the night air.

The streets of Alexandria were still — a welcomed change in comparison to life outside the walls. Daryl shifted on the porch steps, taking another drag from his cigarette as he rested his back against the railing. He tilted his head backward, blowing out a lungful of smoke, feeling his nerves calm in the process.

“Hey, stranger,” a voice suddenly called, breaking the quiet that’d stretched on.

Daryl knew that voice — knew it better than the back of his own damn hand.

He quickly shook away the hair that’d fallen in front of his eyes, watching as Y/N approached.

She looked different — her hair was washed, her clothes no longer blood-stained and tattered. The lines of worry that’d marred her features were smoothed away, replaced by a warm smile that only grew the closer she neared. It was strange — almost like getting a glimpse of her before the dead started walking.

Her footsteps slowed as she stopped in front of him, her head cocking slightly to the side. “What’s that look for?”

Daryl ducked his head down, his face feeling fuzzy — like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Nothin’,” he shook his head, inhaling another drag from his cigarette before stubbing the flame out against the porch steps.

Y/N plopped down beside him, propping her back up against the railing opposite his. “So,” she started, turning her attention towards him. “Deanna was asking where you were tonight.”

The archer scoffed as he flicked the cigarette butt away. “Aaron’s,” he rasped, pulling one knee to his chest, resting his elbow on top of it.

Y/N appeared surprised at his response but didn’t push further. Instead, she exhaled heavily. “This place is like the fucking Twilight Zone.”

He huffed a breath, nodding in agreement. “Ya headin’ back over there?” he rumbled after a moment, jerking his head in the direction of the welcome party.

“Oh, no,” she quickly shook her head. “I’m sick of people,” she admitted before glancing over at him. “You don’t count.”

Daryl snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes despite the strange sort of pride her words brought him.

A beat of silence passed before Y/N spoke again. “Aaron seems like a good guy.”

The archer grunted softly in response, their conversation from earlier coming to mind. “He wants me ta’ start scoutin’ with him — findin’ other survivors, bringin’ ‘em back.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Daryl sounded, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

“Is that something you’d wanna do?” she asked, leaning forward a fraction.

He paused, taking a minute to consider her words. If he was being honest, he felt more comfortable outside Alexandria’s walls than inside — and having a good enough reason to be back on the road didn’t seem like such a bad thing. But if he was being really honest…

Daryl’s gaze met Y/N’s once more — he hadn’t been away from her since the prison fell.

That wasn’t exactly a time in his life he’d like to revisit.

“I do alright out there, I guess,” he shrugged a shoulder up, dropping his hand back into his lap.

A look of amusement flashed over her features in response. “That’s quite the understatement.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, but he couldn’t seem to ease the sudden worry gnawing at him. “Ya gonna be alright in here?” he rasped, steadying her with a serious look.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” she countered smoothly — but Daryl could hear the hint of something in her tone, something he couldn’t quite place. When he remained silent, Y/N’s expression turned reflective. “I think it’ll be a good thing — you could help a lot of people out there who need it.”

The archer picked up on her deflection. “That ain’t what m’ askin’,” he retorted, calling her bluff.

Y/N looked as though she wanted to argue — but then her lips pressed together, forming a thin line. “I don’t know,” she finally said, avoiding his gaze. “I just — I don’t like being away from you, that’s all,” she admitted quietly, wringing her clasped hands together.

He stilled, never having been more grateful for nightfall — otherwise, she surely would’ve seen the sudden redness creeping over his cheeks.

“But, like I said,” she continued, exhaling a slightly awkward laugh. “It’ll be a good thing.”

He nodded once. “Mhm,” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

Her eyes softened before she began pulling herself up off the porch steps. “Well, I’m gonna get some sleep — see you in the morning?”

The archer cleared his throat. “I’ll see ya,” he rumbled.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she headed up the steps, gently squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

He didn’t move a muscle, listening intently for the sound of the front door shutting before closing his eyes, ignoring the tingling sensation beneath where she’d touched him.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

Had he given into instinct that night, he would’ve told her the truth.

He would’ve told her that he felt the same way, that being away from her felt like losing half of himself, that nothing in his life had ever made sense until he met her. The words had toyed at the tip of his tongue, desperate to be heard after being swallowed time and time again — but he just hadn’t been able to do it.

He could almost hear Merle’s snide voice in the back of his head — taunting him, calling him ‘whipped’ and a ‘pussy’ and a ‘good-for-nothin’ redneck’, mocking him for even considering that someone like her could feel anything for someone like him.

So instead, he’d reverted back to what he knew best — shutting down and pushing away.

It wasn’t intentional, merely second nature after years and years of repetition.

But the wall he’d worked so hard to build stood no chance.

Not against her.

Daryl knew something was wrong the moment he crossed back through Alexandria’s gates.

And then the screaming started.

He took off into a sprint, his heart mimicking the echo of his footsteps pounding against the asphalt. He could hear Aaron and Morgan just behind, right on his heels, their heavy breathing mirroring his own as the sounds of anguish grew louder.

The archer felt his stomach drop the closer he neared, his mind repeating one, single phrase over and over again —

Just let her be okay.

When he and Aaron had gotten trapped in that car earlier, surrounded by walkers, he’d thought that was it for him. He was going to lead the dead away and give Aaron enough time to make it out, to make it back to Alexandria where he could continue doing what he did best — bringing salvation to those who needed it.

He’d made peace with his decision.

And as he’d grabbed the door handle, moments away from pushing into the raging swarm, he’d only been thinking one thing —

Just let her be okay.

For some reason, he’d been given a second chance and all he wanted was to see her again. It was nearly overwhelming, setting his nerves ablaze, sending his heart racing — it consumed him entirely, the thought of her.

He’d realized then what he should’ve known all along.

He’d never felt for anyone the way he felt for her.

Daryl finally found the others, all gathered in the center of town — but he barely had time to register what was happening when a single gunshot rang out.

Aaron and Morgan stood frozen beside him as they took in the scene — Rick had a gun in hand, the barrel pointed towards the ground, directly above Pete’s now-shattered skull. The crowd looked on in horror, huddled together near a dimly lit fire, eyes wide, mouths agape. Then he saw Reg — his throat sliced open, his body splayed out across Deanna’s lap, Michonne’s bloody katana lying beside him.

“Rick?” Morgan suddenly spoke, breaking the deafening silence that’d followed.

The sound drew Rick’s attention, his vacant eyes finding Morgan’s — but Daryl’s gaze drifted, meeting hers instead.

His stomach dropped when he saw her — she had one hand pressed against her cheek, blood trickling out from between her fingers, her face frozen in disbelief.

Daryl moved towards her, the rest of the world fading away.

Just let her be okay.

Y/N’s expression shifted as he neared, the apprehension that’d marred her features melting, turning into relief despite her ashen complexion and the chaos surrounding them. She absently shook her head back and forth, opening her mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out.

The archer came to a stop in front of her, his own voice lost somewhere deep inside his chest. So instead, he reached for her, very carefully, as though she’d been spun from glass. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her face, revealing a gash that stretched across the entirety of her cheek.

The swell of rage that coursed through him felt red-hot, flushing his skin as he stared at the wound, his eyes glinting dangerously by the light of the fire.

“She caught the nasty end of Petey-boy’s backswing,” came Abraham’s gruff voice.

Daryl hadn’t even realized the man approached — he was too busy thinking up new ways to bring Pete back to life, all so he could shoot the dead prick dead all over again.

Abraham crouched down a few inches beside him, taking a closer look at Y/N’s injury before whistling softly. “Ya must be ridin’ the gravy train with biscuit wheels, lil’ lady. That sack a’ shit damn near took your eye out,” he drawled before glancing over at Daryl. “Don’t think she needs stitches — unless someone wants ta’ reincarnate Dr. Dickwad for a second opinion.”

Y/N attempted to huff a laugh, but the motion had her wincing, her features twisting in pain.

And Daryl had seen enough.

He grunted a gruff ‘I got it’, giving Abraham a nod of appreciation before taking Y/N by the elbow and maneuvering her away from the others, back onto the street.

She allowed him to guide her elsewhere, neither saying a single word.

The two houses Deanna had provided to the group had been split amongst the lot of them. Daryl chose to reside in the finished basement — it was small and dingy, but he didn’t mind. The room had a couch and a bathroom and was much nicer than any other place he’d ever stayed at — even before the end of times.

And right now, it was serving as a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N sat perched on the edge of the couch, her knee bouncing anxiously as she watched Daryl barrel around the space like a rampant tornado. He grabbed whatever he could think of — the first aid kit stored beneath the bathroom sink, a bottle of water, a clean t-shirt to swap out for her blood-spattered one — before making his way back to her. He set the items down on the coffee table in front of the couch and took a seat on the edge of it, opposite her.

Still, neither spoke.

Daryl kept his eyes focused on the slash mark — that was much easier than acknowledging the absence of space between them. He unscrewed the cap to the water bottle, emptying a small amount onto a dry piece of gauze before leaning forward. Ever so slowly, he dabbed at the blood that’d dripped down her face and onto her neck, ignoring the near-palpable tension.

Y/N sat still as a statue, tilting her head back slightly as he wiped away the redness. But when he moved further up, nearing the wound, she flinched, hissing reflexively. Daryl snatched his hand back as if slapped, his eyes meeting hers, quietly apologetic.

She nodded for him to continue, taking a deep breath and balling her hands into fists atop her thighs.

The archer worked his jaw, lightening his touch.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that — all he knew was that when he was with her, nothing else really seemed to matter.

Luckily, the wound wasn’t as severe as it’d initially appeared — it was fairly shallow, faint towards the edges, and in time would heal completely. He wanted to tell her so, but the words wouldn’t formulate — the silence that’d stretched on felt untouchable.

So instead, Daryl focused on her hands, wiping away the blood that’d stained the grooves of her skin — and although she tried to conceal it, he could feel the slight tremble in her fingertips.

After he was done cleaning her hands, he sat back, his knee brushing against hers. He glanced up, flicking his hair away and studying the cut on her face — it’d stopped bleeding, though the edges were an angry-red, spiking his own temper once more. The collar of her shirt was soaked crimson, the color more muted in areas that’d already dried.

He hadn’t noticed the way their hands remained intertwined until Y/N squeezed softly, snapping him back to reality.

Daryl pulled his hand from hers and stood, grabbing the extra t-shirt off the table and dropping it into her lap. He scooped up the first aid kit before spinning around and stalking back towards the bathroom, giving her privacy as she began to change.

The archer avoided his reflection entirely, certain he’d see nothing but flushed skin and remorseful eyes. He squatted down, yanking open the drawer beneath the sink and tossing the kit inside. He gnashed his teeth together and grabbed onto the counter, his grip white-knuckled around the edge.

He needed to get a fucking hold of himself, that was for damn sure.

After regaining his composure, Daryl slammed the drawer shut with more force than necessary and pulled himself up in one swift motion.

But his entire body froze, his blood running ice-cold, when he noticed Y/N in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, standing in the doorway behind him.

Their eyes met through the glass before the archer twisted around, facing her head-on.

Her brow was furrowed as she stared at him, her head tilting to the side, the wheels in her mind visibly turning though her expression remained unreadable. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to say it. She inhaled a breath, opening her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut — and then something different flickered across her features, an expression he hadn’t seen before.

Daryl waited for her to speak, to finally break the prolonged quietness that’d carried on.

But then she was suddenly crossing towards him.

He didn’t realize what was happening until Y/N’s lips crashed against his.

It was as though a dam had broken open — every fleeting feeling, every moment of suppressed longing coming to a head after dancing around one another for so long. At first, Daryl’s entire body went numb, his brain scrambling to figure out just what in the hell was actually happening. His breath caught in his throat as he stiffened instinctually, years of touch deprivation and self-consciousness clawing their way to the surface, leaving him paralyzed against her.

But when Y/N pulled back, breaking away from the kiss, he found himself craving her in the spaces she’d filled.

Her eyes were wide, boring into his, her gaze a mixture of shock and awe that he was certain mirrored his own — like even she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She clung onto the collar of his shirt, the material balled in her fists.

Daryl’s chest heaved beneath her touch, his breathing syncing up with hers as they stared at one another, their noses only a few inches apart, each soaking the other in for what felt like the first time.

Something inside the archer fractured, right then and there. The wall he’d created inside his mind, the one designed to keep everyone at arm’s length, began to crumble. His guard fell to pieces, brick by brick, shattering at the very foundation he’d built it on.

And in its place…her.

Without any hesitation, Daryl slipped a hand behind Y/N’s neck and surged forward, closing the gap between them and bringing his lips to hers once more.

A soft gasp escaped her at first — one of surprise — the feel of it against his mouth sending a tingle down his spine before she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Her hands slid down his chest, snaking around his middle as she pressed herself against him with similar desperation.

He slid his hand up the back of her head, holding her in place as their lips parted, exploring each other with a deeper intensity. His fingers tangled throughout her hair, desperate to feel her in all of the ways he’d denied himself of, his other hand rising to gently cup the side of her face.

But when Y/N inhaled sharply, suddenly jerking back a fraction, Daryl’s eyes snapped open.

“Ow, fuck,” she hissed, her expression pinched.

“Shit,” the archer rasped, realizing then that his hand had brushed up against the cut on her cheek. “Ya alright?” he rumbled, pulling back further to get a better look.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, her face lighting up in a way he’d never seen before. “Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely, her cheeks tinged pink, her lips red and slightly swollen.

Once again, Daryl found himself fighting to catch his breath.

He swallowed the thickness in his throat, carefully reaching forward and picking at a strand of hair that’d been swept out of place, tucking it behind her ear instead.

Y/N leaned into his palm, laying her hands against his chest, staring at him like she thought he’d hung the moon and painted the stars.

The look shifted into something deeper as she stepped back, ghosting her fingertips down each of his arms, his skin catching fire beneath her touch. She intertwined her hands around his calloused ones and began inching backward, slowly leading him out of the bathroom without another word.

The archer felt something stir deep inside him, a warmth settling in the pit of his stomach as she guided him towards the couch. He was entranced — like a man who’d been lost at sea for far too long, finally catching a glimpse of salvation from a lighthouse, beckoning him home.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid.

Daryl flushed at the memory.

She still had that same damn effect on him. It didn’t matter how much time passed, how many years went by, he’d never tire of her. She was, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to him.

He’d always felt out of place — even before the end. It was like everybody who’d ever lived was somehow born knowing the same song and dance — and yet there he’d been, stumbling along, fighting to catch up and fall in step with the rest of the world. It’d isolated him, made him feel weak and undeserving — like no matter how hard he tried, he’d never truly belong.

And now?

The only comfortable place his mind seemed to know was her.

Daryl fought back a wince, his entire body tensing up.

“Almost done,” Denise murmured as she continued stitching up the laceration on his back.

“Ya said that an hour ago,” the archer grumbled in response, grinding his teeth together.

“It definitely wasn’t an hour and you’re the one who refused the numbing cream, remember?” she countered evenly, her tone unwavering.

The archer merely huffed in response, fighting back a scowl as he gripped tightly onto the edge of the metal table he sat on top of. He ignored the feeling of Denise’s needle digging into his skin, closing up the knife wound he’d received back on the road, surveying the quieted house-turned-infirmary instead.

Rick was in the next room over, not having moved from Carl’s bedside since the survivors had taken Alexandria back from the dead. Glenn and Maggie were huddled together on the cot across the room while Michonne rocked Judith back and forth, exiting the infirmary with her a moment later. The others were gathered outside, recuperating after the long and harrowing fight that’d taken place mere hours ago.

And then there was Y/N — she sat on the floor beside his dangling legs, her head resting against the side of his knee, his vest laid out across her curled form. He could tell by her steady breathing and the way her head lolled every so often that she’d fallen asleep against him.

The entire community was running on little to no sleep, having fought through the night, taking on the herd that’d invaded their home — now, hundreds of bodies littered the streets, the wall that’d collapsed needed to be rebuilt, and those they’d lost during the attack needed to be buried.

Daryl glanced down when he heard a soft sigh, feeling his chest constrict as Y/N nestled closer.

She hadn’t strayed far since he’d returned and honestly, he wasn’t quite ready to be away from her either — especially after what happened on the road. Over the two days he was gone, he’d nearly lost his life on more than one occasion — and from what he'd heard, she’d nearly lost hers when the Wolves attacked.

But they were okay — she was okay — and that was what mattered.

Michonne reentered the infirmary a moment later, the exhaustion on her face mirroring his own. Judith, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in her arms, curled up against her chest, dark blonde wisps of hair sticking to her forehead.

“How’re you holding up?” Michonne asked softly as she approached the table, not wanting to wake Judith — or Y/N, for that matter.

“Jus’ a scratch, is all,” Daryl rumbled in response, peeking over his shoulder at Denise who remained focused on the wound.

Michonne nodded, rubbing small circles against Judith’s back. “I sent everyone home — Rosita and Heath are keeping watch where the wall came down. We’ll clear the dead once everyone gets some rest.”

“Alright,” Daryl rasped, a bone-deep tiredness beginning to seep in.

Before leaving, Michonne paused, looking down at Y/N’s sleeping form. When she glanced back up, her expression had shifted into something softer, something less tense. “She’s good for you,” she suddenly murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You deserve that,” she whispered, reaching out and squeezing his hand, still latched around the edge of the table.

Daryl’s hand flexed beneath hers as he glanced down at the top of Y/N’s head — did he really deserve someone like her?

He’d spend the rest of his life wondering that.

Michonne patted the top of his hand before pulling away, disappearing into Carl’s room without another word, Judith still fast asleep against her.

“Alrighty,” Denise exhaled, drawing him back to the present. “You, my friend, are free to go.”

The archer grunted a gruff ‘thanks’ as she began cleaning up the supplies she’d used to stitch him up. He bit back a grimace as he pulled his shirt over his head, feeling the stitches stretch as he moved.

He reached forward then, gently ruffling the top of Y/N’s head, stirring her awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before craning her neck and looking up, her bleary gaze meeting his. “All done?” she murmured, her voice slightly croaky.

“Mhm,” he sounded, sliding off the table and offering his hand to her.

The corner of her mouth quirked up as she grabbed it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She swayed, fighting back a yawn, Daryl’s hand finding the small of her back and steadying her. Wordlessly, she held out his vest, which he slowly slipped back on, grinding his teeth together as a sharp jolt of pain shot across his shoulder.

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she watched him, her eyes narrowing — but before she could comment, Denise approached once more.

“Change the gauze in a couple of hours and take two of these for the pain,” she informed, holding out a small bundle of supplies, including fresh bandages and pills. “Doctor’s orders."

But Daryl waved her off. “Save ‘em,” he grumbled, carefully adjusting his vest.

He saw Y/N throw him a glance from the corner of his eye, though she didn’t protest — instead, she stepped forward and held her hand out.

Denise passed the supplies to her before lifting her glasses and rubbing one eye with the back of her hand, her fingertips stained red with blood. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything strenuous for a few days or he’ll tear the stitches,” she continued, speaking solely to Y/N as she set her glasses back in place.

Daryl huffed a breath. “M’ standin’ right here, ya know.”

Y/N nudged him in the ribcage, giving him a look that clearly translated to ‘be nice’.

Denise directed her attention back to the archer. “Don’t tear my stitches,” she reiterated emphatically before her expression eased. “Rest, relax, sleep — both of you.” She shot Y/N a pointed look before shooing them towards the front door, heading over to check in with Glenn and Maggie.

Y/N glanced over at Daryl once they were alone, her eyebrow quirking playfully. “I like this new side of Denise.”

The arched scoffed in response, flicking the hair from his face. “I liked it better when she was scared a’ me,” he grumbled as they fell in step, making their way out of the infirmary and back outside.

A laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips as they crossed over the porch. “Sounds about right,” she grinned, thoroughly amused.

“S’ true,” he shrugged his uninjured shoulder up as they made their way down the stairs and back onto the street.

“You know, you really aren’t that sc—”

Y/N stopped mid-sentence, her footsteps halting abruptly. Daryl faltered as well, glancing back at her, his brow knitting together. Before he could ask what was wrong, he realized what she was looking at.

In the light of day, the aftermath of the attack was startling. There were more bodies than he could count, rotted and decaying, bones torn through skin, blood spilling out onto the street, stark against the asphalt. The carnage was overwhelming, the reality of what they’d accomplished, as well as what they’d almost lost, suddenly settling in.

“We’ll fix this place up — make sure nothin’ like this ever happens again,” Daryl rasped, not entirely certain if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

Y/N’s expression turned solemn. “It’s not the dead I worry about,” she fixed him with a stare, her gaze flickering towards the wound on his back before she continued surveying the damage done to their community.

There wasn’t anything he could say that would make her feel better — not in a world as dark and void and meaningless as the one they lived in.

The only thing he could do was just be there.

Daryl reached for her, slipping his hand around hers and squeezing softly, drawing her back to him.

Although Y/N kept her eyes forward, he felt the tension leave her.

And then she squeezed back.

The archer huffed a breath, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

Well, maybe the world wasn’t entirely meaningless.

Daryl stood still beneath the shower head, warm water washing over his body.

But he couldn’t focus on that — all he could focus on was Y/N, standing behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle, her bare chest pressed against his back. He closed his eyes, committing the feeling to memory — her heart steadily pounding against him, her cheek resting against his shoulder as water continued to cascade down their bodies.

She pulled back slightly, gently pressing her lips against one of the scars on his back.

Daryl felt a chill run down his spine despite the steam around him, fighting back the instinctual urge to stiffen — and as she moved to the next scar and the next, softly kissing each one, he couldn’t help but melt beneath her touch.

He turned then, feeling the tips of his ear redden at the sight of her before he quickly averted his gaze.

Y/N laughed, soft and sweet, reaching towards him and brushing the hair from his face.

Daryl caught her hand with his own, pressing her palm flat against the curve of his jaw. The cut on her cheek had healed, leaving only a faint, thin line below her eye. His own knife wound was still fresh, but in time, would heal as well.

He brought his hand up and gently brushed his thumb across the length of the mark before tilting her head back, bringing his lips to hers.

He wasn’t sure where the sudden boldness came from — still, Y/N returned the kiss, her arms snaking around his neck, his around her waist.

It wasn’t until the water began to run cold that Daryl, begrudgingly, turned the shower off.

They moved about in comfortable silence — drying off, changing into clean clothes, completing eerily normal and mundane tasks that had the archer wondering if he’d somehow transported into an alternate reality without realizing it.

But the blood and muck that’d washed off their bodies and collected at the bottom of the tub reminded him otherwise.

It’d taken three whole days to clear Alexandria of all the walkers that’d infiltrated their walls. Now, they could start rebuilding, reinforcing, doing whatever they needed to do to make sure an attack like that never happened again.

Daryl climbed into the bed he shared with Y/N, having moved up from the basement and into her room after that first night they’d spent together. He winced as he rotated his shoulder — despite Denise’s instructions to limit arduous activity, he’d worked the past three days from sun up to sun down in removing all the bodies from within the gates.

Y/N had tried to get him to take it easy, but he hadn’t — that just wasn’t in his nature.

She crawled into bed after him, sighing softly as she settled by his side, sitting with her legs crossed beneath her. She held her hand out towards him and in her palm, two pills — he recognized them as the ones Denise had given her.

Daryl huffed a breath.

“Don’t make me say ‘please’,” she warned, raising her brow expectantly.

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes but took the pills anyway, popping them into his mouth and washing them down with the bottle of water he’d left by the bedside. Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she laid down, curling onto her side, facing away from him.

He reached over, wrapping an arm around her middle and dragging her towards him, eliciting a surprised laugh from her. She nestled closer, her back pressed against his chest, one hand clasped around his forearm, drawing absent circles against his skin with her thumb.

Daryl felt himself fading, slipping into unconsciousness after a long, tiring day of survival.

But just before the world darkened entirely, a whisper broke through the quiet.

“I love you.”

The archer’s eyes snapped open. Part of him wondered if Y/N was sleep-talking. An even bigger part of him figured he’d imagined it because there was no way — no way in hell — she could’ve consciously and deliberately said that to him.

But then she was shifting, rolling onto her back and looking up at him.

He searched her gaze for something, anything — a punchline, an explanation, a ‘hah, fooled ya!’ — that would explain what in the fuck he’d just heard.

Except that didn’t happen.

Instead, Y/N slowly nodded, like she was finally coming to terms with her own blatantly impromptu confession. “Yeah, I-I do — I —” she fumbled slightly in her admittance before steadying. “I love you,” she murmured, blinking up at him.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind screaming at him to say something instead of just staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. He could feel the words toying at the tip of his tongue — he wanted to say it, he did, because…well, of course. Of course, he wanted to. But it was like his body was physically rejecting a response.

Y/N patiently watched him struggle, giving him a second to get his shit together, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips.

The archer pushed up onto his elbow, clearing his throat, his cheeks burning red. “I, uh,” he grumbled, shaking his head slightly. “Y-Yeah, I —” he faltered, clearly struggling. But when his baffled gaze met her kind one, almost instantly, his wall of insecurity diminished. “Yeah,” the single word came out resolute and sure, everything he needed her to hear.

Y/N’s smile grew, stretching across her face, bright enough to light the sky on fire. “Yeah?” she asked softly, reading between the lines.

Daryl nodded once. “Yeah,” he rasped thickly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was.

He’d felt that way since the day he met her, even if he hadn’t known it.

She reached up, twisting her fingers in his hair and bringing his face down to meet hers, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

Then she was curling onto her other side so they laid chest to chest, her head tucked beneath his chin as she snuggled closer, his arms wrapping around her instinctually.

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, limbs weaved around one another like coiled rope. But when her breathing evened out, he pulled back and snuck a glance, tracing every inch of her face as though the first time and the last. He brought his hand to her face, carefully brushing back the hair that’d swept over her features before leaning in and pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Then sleep came for him as well.

Daryl dropped his hand back into his lap, drawing his legs to his chest.

Being with Y/N was effortless — as easy as breathing. It came, somewhat alarmingly, natural to him. He’d never pictured himself with anyone ever. Before the end, before her, he’d been content to sit on the sidelines and watch all the relationships around him undoubtedly burn — it was all he’d ever known, it was all he’d ever seen.

But then she came along and flipped his entire world upside down.

A love that came without warning.

“Let’s get this shit loaded up — looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” Daryl rumbled, peering up at the darkening sky, noticing a cluster of bulbous clouds rolling in.

Y/N tilted her head back, following his gaze before humming a breath. “I don’t know — the wind’s blowing East. It might just miss us,” she remarked, catching the archer’s eye, a mischievous look flashing across her features. “Wanna make a bet?”

Daryl scoffed a breath in response, shutting the car trunk filled with scavenged supplies and adjusting the strap of the rifle slung across his chest — he was still getting used to the weapon. It felt unfamiliar in comparison to the weight of his crossbow. The reminder of his stolen weapon sent a flush of anger through his veins. He’d find those assholes someday and get it back, that was for damn sure.

“Come on,” Y/N grinned, drawing him back as she hefted another box over to him, dropping it onto the ground with a huff. “How about this? If it rains…I’ll take your watch shift tonight with Elizabeth.”

The archer quirked a brow, suddenly intrigued. Elizabeth was one of the original members of Alexandria — and she was…chatty. “Fine,” he nodded, opening the car door and lobbing the box she’d brought over onto the backseat. “She’s always yappin’ ‘bout books an’ shit I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout. Damn irritatin’ sometimes,” he grumbled.

Y/N laughed at his aggravation, turning to pick up another box. “I like her,” she shrugged, making her way towards him.

Daryl huffed a breath, waving her off. “Alright an’ if it doesn’t rain? What’d ya want?” he questioned, taking the box from her hands and sliding it into the car.

Before she had the chance to respond, Rick suddenly appeared, pushing through the front doors of the high school they’d been scavenging — it’d been turned into a FEMA evacuation center right at the beginning of the end. It’d somehow, miraculously, been left untouched — the doors and windows had been barred and chained, but luckily they’d had the tools needed to break in.

It’d been a little over a month since Alexandria had been overrun with the dead — the wall had been rebuilt and fortified, but the survivors had been hesitant to venture outside the gates after what happened the last time. Regardless, supplies were dwindling and a run had to be made.

“How’s it comin’ along out here?” Rick called as he jogged down the front steps and into the parking lot.

“Filled up the trunk pretty good — gonna need another car or two jus’ ta’ fit the rest a’ this shit,” Daryl remarked as the sheriff approached, motioning to the rest of the unpacked boxes lying around.

Rick came to a stop in front of them, one hand resting on top of the handle of his pistol strapped around his waist. “This is good — this is real good,” a rare smile spread across his face, so unlike the usual tension in his features.

“Tara’s finishing up around back — she’s grabbing the rest of the stuff from the greenhouse,” Y/N relayed to Rick, sharing a hopeful look with the archer. “We’ve got enough stuff to last us, I don’t know, at least another couple of months — that’ll be enough time to get some crops growing, maybe even a garden or two.”

Rick huffed a laugh in disbelief, shaking his head. “Who would’a thought,” he mused to himself before taking a breath. “Alright, I’m gonna grab a few last things inside an’ then we’ll lock up — come back tomorrow with a couple a’ cars an’ clean this place out.”

The sheriff left without another word, leaving Daryl and Y/N alone once again.

He began rearranging the boxes in the backseat, making sure there was enough room for two people to sit there on the way back home.

“A date,” Y/N suddenly spoke, catching him off guard.

Daryl straightened, turning back around to look at her, his brow knitting together. “Huh?”

The corner of Y/N’s mouth quirked up as she took a step towards him. “If I win, if it doesn’t rain today…I want you to take me on a date.”

The archer tilted his head to the side, trying to distinguish if she was joking or not. “Ya serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a sort of awkward laugh slipping past her lips. “I know it’s stupid — and given the way you’re looking at me right now, I know you’re thinking the same thing,” she laughed again as he quickly erased the skepticism from his expression. “But that’s —” she shrugged a shoulder up, “— that’s what I want.”

Daryl scratched the side of his head, flicking the hair from his face as he studied her, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the car. “That really what ya want?”

“Mhm,” she sounded. “And it doesn’t have to be anything special — just us and, I don’t know…maybe Aaron can whip up some of his famous spaghetti,” a soft smile grew on her face as she looked at him. “I, uh — I just — I want to do this right, you know?” her expression turned earnest. “I want those moments with you, Daryl.”

The archer felt a swell of warmth spread throughout him as he looked at her, feeling his resolve give way. “Alright,” he managed to rasp, his throat tight with emotion.

“Alright,” Y/N reiterated with a nod, sticking her hand out, a playful look in her eye.

Daryl snorted a laugh as he reached out and grasped her hand with his own, shaking once to seal the deal.

Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she pulled from his grip. “We should —”

“Guys?” Tara’s voice suddenly sounded, drawing their attention.

Daryl knew as he pushed off the car, as he turned around that something was very wrong — he could hear it in her tone.

It took a moment for him to fully register the scene before him — a wide-eyed Tara just a few feet away, standing straight as an arrow, holding her hands up near her head.

Then he spotted a man.

The stranger stood just behind Tara, one arm wrapped around her neck, the other holding a gun, the barrel pressed against her temple. He was young, maybe early twenties, though it was hard to tell with all of the blood coating his skin. He peered over Tara’s shoulder, his frantic gaze bouncing wildly back and forth between the archer and Y/N.

Daryl’s protective instinct kicked in as he took a step forward, drawing the man’s attention, keeping Y/N out of his line of fire. His hand automatically reached for the rifle strapped around him but his movements stilled when the man’s eyes widened, his arm tightening around Tara’s neck.

“Hey, take it easy,” Daryl held out his hands in front of him.

“Move,” the man growled, jerking his head to the side. “Away from the car.”

Daryl felt Y/N grab a fistful of material from his shirt, slowly pulling him back as the man moved towards them, keeping Tara in front of him to conceal his body.

A tense standoff of sorts stretched on as they maneuvered around, the man never taking his eyes off of Daryl. When the stranger made it to the driver’s side of the car, he unwound his arm from around Tara’s neck, using it to open the door instead — though his finger remained twitching above the trigger. Once the door was opened, he faltered, realizing he’d lose the coverage of Tara’s body if he tried to get inside.

“Take it,” Y/N suddenly spoke, stepping out from behind Daryl with her hands near her head, drawing the man’s attention.

The archer shot her a sharp glance. “Y/N —”

“Take the car, take the supplies, take whatever you need,” she continued calmly, ignoring Daryl’s growled protest. “Just let her go, okay? No one’s here to hurt you.”

The stranger’s expression shifted, the animalistic look on his face shifting into something that resembled more of a quiet desperation than anything else. “I —“ he shook his head quickly, shifting back and forth. “I just need — I just need to go — I need to go.”

Y/N took another step forward, the side of her arm brushing against Daryl’s. “Okay,” she nodded, exhaling a breath. “That’s okay — just let our friend go and —”

Her sentence was interrupted by the front door of the school swinging open.

Daryl whipped his head around, feeling his stomach drop when he spotted Rick walking out with a stack of boxes — but when the sheriff noticed the standoff happening just down the steps, the boxes came crashing down, falling out of his hands, and instead…he grabbed his pistol.

It was as though everything happened in slow motion.

The stranger’s expression twisted as his sights set in on Rick — he swung the barrel of his gun away from Tara, who instantly dropped to the ground as the man pointed the weapon up the steps, and then…

A barrage of gunfire sounded as Rick and the man began shooting at one another in rapid succession. The sheriff used the front door as a shield, attempting to fire from around the frame, the awkward angle throwing off his aim. The stranger, on the other hand, fired away in no particular direction — his aim was erratic and panicked as he tried using the car door as coverage.

When a bullet flew past the side of Daryl’s head, he dove towards Y/N. He knocked her off her feet and onto the pavement, attempting to take cover from the shootout. The archer flipped onto his back, fumbling for his rifle before finally getting a grip and pointing it at the man.

But before he could take a shot, the stranger threw himself into the car, slamming the door shut, bullets from Rick’s pistol embedding into the metal. He peeled recklessly out of the parking lot, still firing from out of the opened window as he made his getaway.

Despite one of the back tires exploding after getting hit with a stray bullet, the stranger kept driving, disappearing onto the main road and out of sight, leaving a wake of destruction in his path.

“What the fuck?” Tara called from where she’d taken cover.

“Is everybody alright?” Rick yelled back, coming out from behind the door and running down the steps.

Daryl twisted onto his side, looking over at Y/N. “Hey, ya alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she murmured shakily, pushing up onto her hands and knees. “I’m okay.”

The archer let out a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet and surveying the damage done around them as Rick appeared at his side.

“What an asshole,” Tara swore, coming to a stand as her eyes bounced between Rick, Daryl, and Y/N. “Seriously, what kind of —”

Daryl looked over at her, waiting to hear the rest — but that was when he noticed her staring at something just behind him, the horrified expression on her face filling him with a vast and all-consuming sense of dread.

The archer spun around.

And that was when he saw her.

Y/N stood a few feet away, swaying unsteadily, her hand pressed tightly against the center of her stomach. Her head was lowered, bowed to her chest as she slowly pulled her trembling hand away, revealing a stark redness pooling from her midsection, staining the front of her shirt. She looked up then, her eyes meeting his, the shock in her gaze surely mirroring his own.

“No,” Daryl whispered, the word sounding strangled in his throat as Y/N’s knees suddenly began to give out. “No!” he roared, rushing forward and grabbing onto her before she could collapse.

His arms slipped around her middle before he carefully lowered her onto the ground, her head drooping down against his shoulder. His heart pounded so violently against his ribcage, part of him wondered if it was giving out on him entirely — maybe it was. Maybe this was what dying felt like. Maybe this was what it felt like to have your soul ripped straight out of your body.

Daryl cradled the back of Y/N’s head with one hand as he laid her down flat against the pavement, her eyes wide and unseeing, staring straight up at the sky. “Hey, hey, look a’ me, jus’ look a’ me,” he urged, brushing the hair back from her face, ignoring the blood now staining his hands — her blood.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she mumbled, repeating it over and over again as though she could will it to be true — though her skin grew more ashen with each minute that slipped by.

Rick suddenly kneeled on the opposite side of Y/N, taking a piece of cloth and holding it against the wound. “Keep pressure on it,” he instructed Daryl and although he tried to conceal it, the archer could hear the way his voice wavered. “You jus’ hold on, Y/N, understand? We’re gonna get you outta here,” he promised, reaching down and squeezing one of her hands before disappearing.

Daryl watched him leave, dragging a teary-eyed, slack-jawed Tara along with him as they began frantically searching the abandoned parking lot for any working vehicles — it was their only chance at getting her back to Alexandria.

And if they didn’t…

No.

No, he couldn’t go there.

Instead, he pressed the cloth against the gunshot wound, attempting to stall the blood flow, the pressure eliciting a pained whimper from Y/N that almost made the contents of his stomach reappear. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya,” he rasped, grabbing her limp hand with his own and intertwining their fingers, holding his other hand firmly against her stomach.

His words seemed to bring her back to him, her hollow gaze shifting into one of panic — like she only just realized what was happening. Her features crumpled, a flash of fear skirting across her face as the shock began to wear off. “Am — am I dying?” she managed to choke out, her eyes filling with unshed tears as she looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head resolutely, feeling moisture build in the corners of his own eyes. “No, ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear me?” his grip tightened around her hand — like his touch alone could keep her there with him. “We’re gonna get ya back ta’ Alexandria an’ — an’ get ya patched up, good as new, alright? Ya jus’ gotta hang on for me, girl.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered as a tear snaked down the side of her face. “I-I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, a sob hitching in her throat.

“Hey, it’s gonna — ya gonna — jus’ — Rick!” Daryl suddenly bellowed, sitting back on his haunches and desperately scanning the area for any sign of him or Tara. He spotted them at the opposite end of the parking lot, running from car to car, searching for keys or at least a way to jumpstart one of the abandoned vehicles.

But luck was not seeming to be on their side.

Daryl let out a vicious string of curses before focusing back on Y/N. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life — and God, if he could, he’d take her place in a second.

She was fading — fading so rapidly it made him dizzy. Her skin was cold to the touch, her lips tinged a disturbing shade of blue, her eyes lacking the warmth he was so used to seeing. He felt a swell of emotion rise in his throat, threatening to consume him, but he shoved it down.

“Hey, y-you were right,” she murmured weakly, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she tilted her head to look up at the sky once more. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

Daryl felt a tear spill down his cheek as he followed her eye line, the previously blue sky now blanketed with thick, dark clouds. He huffed a humorless laugh, their conversation from a few minutes earlier ringing through his mind, somehow seeming like an entire lifetime ago. “Guess that means ya — ya gotta take watch tonight, right?” he rasped despondently, keeping his gaze towards the sky.

He stilled when he was met with nothing but a deafening silence.

He felt his stomach roll as he squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of what he'd see if he looked down. “Y/N?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

When she didn’t respond, Daryl knew.

She was gone.

His girl was gone.

And his entire world came crashing down around him.

Daryl forced his eyes open.

His body went numb at the sight of her, his mind refusing to accept the image before him — empty eyes, grey flesh, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her hand slipped from his grasp then, dropping onto the pavement beside her unmoving form as she continued staring vacantly up at the sky.

His brain couldn’t process what was happening — where he was, what he was doing, why he was there. It felt like a nightmare — a reality that wasn’t quite reality, warped and desolate and consuming him whole. The only tangible thing he felt was a sharp, physical pain in the center of his chest, his breaths short and hitched, causing black spots to dance in his vision.

Over the blood rushing to his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of a car engine, the noise muted and dull as it approached…

But it was too late.

They were too late.

Daryl reached for her hesitantly, hands trembling as he wound his arms beneath her back and carefully scooped her up off the ground, falling back slightly as he pulled her body across his lap. When her head lolled listlessly to the side, he brought his hand up, brushing his bloodstained fingers through her hair before cradling the back of her head, pressing his cheek against hers.

“Ya said —” he squeezed his eyes shut, rocking back and forth as his grip around her lifeless body tightened. “Ya said ya were okay,” he choked out brokenly, his own shock slowly wearing off as something deep inside his soul fractured.

Then he broke.

And the sky opened up and wept alongside him.

The sound of barking drew Daryl back to reality.

He glanced over his shoulder, quickly blinking away the tears that’d formed, spotting Dog trotting towards him. The German Shepard’s tongue hung lazily out of his mouth, his easy pace picking up the closer he neared, letting out another short bark.

Daryl rumbled a laugh as Dog came to a halt at his side, plopping down next to him. “Hey, boy,” he rasped softly, scratching behind his dog’s ear and earning a sloppy lick in return He wiped away the moisture from his cheek as the canine laid down beside him with a huff. “Good, Dog.”

The archer ran his fingers through his sleek fur, feeling his throat tighten. When he’d found the German Shepard a few years back, he’d remembered the conversation with Y/N from back at the prison — and it’d only felt right to name him ‘Dog’.

It’s what she would’ve wanted — and somehow, it made him feel just a little bit closer to her.

“Man, she would’a loved ya,” he whispered thickly, sighing a long and heavy breath.

Daryl looked forward once more, studying the small gravestone in front of him — her gravestone.

For a long time, he stayed away. He hadn't been able to go near where she'd been laid to rest, he just couldn’t — it was too fucking painful, like part of himself had been buried right along with her. But over time, the grief became easier to manage — it never went away, it'd never go away — but he found a way to exist alongside it.

Now, he found a strange sort of peace here.

It’d been years since he’d lost her — she’d been gone for longer than he’d known her. It was hard to keep track of time these days, they seemed to come and go without rhyme or reason. So much had happened since that day — the war against the Saviors, the looming threat of the Whisperers, losing friends, family, Rick…

Time seemed to move differently after losing the people loved most.

After that day at the high school, Daryl had tried to find the man responsible for what happened to Y/N — he’d gone back to the high school, wild and unhinged in his grief, hellbent on retracing their steps and tracking down the stranger. He’d needed revenge, bloodshed, he’d needed the man to know what he’d done, who he’d taken from the world.

Despite the improbability, the archer had no trouble finding him.

The back tire that had been blown out during the exchange of gunfire had sent the car careening down an embankment and into a large tree less than a mile from the school. One of the branches had broken through the windshield and punctured the man’s chest, most likely killing him on impact.

He’d reanimated still strapped in the driver’s seat.

Daryl left him that way.

It wasn’t the ending he’d hoped for, but maybe it was the ending he deserved.

He reached down, absently stroking the top of Dog’s head, and inhaled a deep breath.

Not a single day went by without the thought of her.

She came and went — like a flash of light or the beat of a heart. Daryl had barely had any time to hold onto her before she was gone — and he would’ve held her so much tighter had he known it’d be the last chance he’d have.

Some people were just too bright to stay, too good for what the world had become — at least that’s what he told himself on the really dark days.

The archer closed his eyes, imagining her at his side — sometimes if he sat like that for long enough, he could almost hear her voice, her laugh, he could almost feel her warmth, her touch — and it was like she was still there, sitting right beside him.

It wasn’t the same, but it was enough — at least until he could be with her once more.

Daryl opened his eyes, peering up at the vast night sky, and released the breath he’d been holding.

Someday, he’d find his way home again.

Fin.

A/N: ...hi...how y'all doin'? lol

So yeah, this is a lot to unpack. If you've made it to the very end, THANK YOU! I know this was a super-dee-duper-long oneshot but hopefully (heartbreak and all) it was worth it.

Most of this story was purely self-indulgent - I mean, come on, who doesn't want this kind of love? But aside from that, I also wanted to write a relationship for Daryl that felt authentic and true to his character (*cough cough* definitely not throwing shade at 10.18...nope...not at all...lol)

What also made this story super fun was the fact that I was able to incorporate other characters from over the course of the series! (Even though he's only in it for .2 seconds, Abraham is probably my personal favorite lol I'd never written for him before, and damn, is it fun!)

I also like the little 'twist' at the end when we realize that in the present parts of the story, he's been hanging out at the reader's grave the entire time, reminiscing. Ow, that hurts my heart.

After writing this for months, I was the last person who wanted to see the story end like this. I honestly grew super attached to this relationship and part of me contemplated ending it on more of a 'happy' note...or as 'happy' as you can get with a show like this one. But this was the ending I'd envisioned from the beginning. We got to experience a Daryl x Reader relationship from the very start to the very end. No open-ended questions, no 'what ifs'.

And I think that's sorta beautiful.

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

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[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 5

* * * * * * *

“You and Fury seem to forget that I’m retired pretty easily.” You say, eyes focused on your surroundings instead of the man talking to you.

A nice breeze flows past, followed by another crowd of passersby. The street is busy as always at this time of day but you always appreciate the hustle and bustle of the city. Something about it appealed to you. 

New York has always been busy, for as long as you can remember. Admittedly, with the lack of advanced technology in your time, people spent a lot more time talking to each other in passing than they now spend on their phones.

“No one’s forgotten, except maybe you,” Tony says and you turn to refocus your attention on him.“ Or did you forget that it was you who copped a ride with Fury to Sokovia.”

Of course you didn’t forget that. That mission had been more dangerous and life threatening than any one you’d previously been on. 

The man hums and nods, a soft chuckle leaves his lips,“ unless of course you weren’t there for the team.” 

“What?” Your eyebrows pinch together,“ what’re you talking about?” 

“I’m talkin about you and Romanoff.” He leans forward, pushing his coffee cup away a little.“ Clint told me about that little moment you two had before the city fell. What’d you do? Spring to action when you realized Natasha was in danger?”

Your eyes roll but you avoid answering his question. Cause that is actually what you did. On top of being generally concerned with the safety of your friends, your main focus was Natasha. You’d never admit it, out loud, but you know that’s what happened. And you know why you did, even if you won’t admit it at all. 

“Awe, don’t want me exposing your crush on Nat?” He further teases and your nose turns up at him.

“Think I liked you better when you were running around in pjs and building robots and stuff.” He makes an offended face and you smile sarcastically at it.“ If I agree to train the Maximoff kids will you not mention these supposed feelings for Natasha that you assume I have.”

For a moment he looks at you, then nods.“ You’ve got yourself a deal Y/ln. Also,” he pushes his chair back and stands up,“ you’re just training the girl. Rogers apparently has some special plan for Speedy.” Picking up his cup, he claps his hand on your shoulder with extra force, and walks away.

Just as you’re about to slouch into your seat to stay an extra few minutes he calls out for you to come with him and you resist the urge to groan. Sighing softly, you finish your tea and get up. 

As you expected Tony takes you to the tower. His choice of music blasts through the sports car and you can’t help but chuckle. Since he was thirteen he’d been obsessed with classic rock. You have no idea what the first song he heard was but whatever it was it hooked him to the genre.

Through the loud music he explains everything you’ll have to go over with Wanda and mentions that he’s getting a facility together upstate that will become the new Avengers HQ, but that move is going to take some time so the tower is still “home” as of now. You nod along, knowing that if not for your enhanced abilities you wouldn’t be able to hear him correctly.

By the time Tony pulls into the private parking garage, whipping into his spot and turning the car off, you completely understand what role you’re about to play in terms of training Wanda.

“What? Eager to get to work?” He asks after you’ve practically sprinted out of the car. 

“More like eager to get out before my ears start bleeding.” You tell him, glancing over your shoulder at him to stick your tongue out playfully. You don’t have to keep looking at him to know he rolled his eyes. 

The familiarity of the building makes it easy to navigate. Pretty much leaving Tony in the dust, you walk through the lobby to the elevators. Taking them up to the training floor. 

Your plan hadn’t been to see anyone just yet. Mainly coming here to form some sort of plan as far as training the Maximoff girl goes. Only for her to be the person you run into once having stepped into the training room.

She’s across the room, fingers running over the edges of a treadmill as her eyes look through the large floor to ceiling window. You imagine she’s taking in the sight the tower provides of New York. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You ask, effectively grabbing the young woman’s attention. She turns her head to face you, eyebrows pinching together as she’s not familiar with you, only having seen you just before you hugged Natasha in Sokovia. 

“It is.” She replies shortly and you chuckle at it, stepping further into the room. 

Giving her a soft smile you introduce yourself,“ I’m Y/n,” you move over to the weight benches,“ Stark asked me to come in and help you adjust.”

Her eyes narrow and that draws your attention to the fact that her eyes are green.“ Are you an Avenger? Because I haven’t seen you around here.”

“I am not. I’m supposed to be retired but no one seems to give a damn so here I am.” Spreading your arms a little to emphasize your current location.

For whatever reason your words make her giggle and you smile at that, happy to have broken the ice at least a little. 

“So how’re you going to help me adjust Y/n?” Her inquisitive gaze follows her moving closer to you.

“Not sure. What do you need help adjusting to?” Your head tilts and your eyebrow quirks.“ The training regiment? Your new chaotic teammates? Living in New York?” 

“Is all of the above an option?” She asks, and although you know she’s serious you still hear the teasing in her tone. 

With a quiet laugh you nod,“ all of the above is an option.” You let her know.“ Um, I’m not sure of all the details with the move upstate but how about I show you around the tower and we can go over the basics of your training and such?” You decide to pose it as a question in case she doesn’t want to.

“That would be nice actually.” She smiles and you notice that it’s truly genuine. So with a smile in return, you motion for her to follow you out of the room. 

With her being on this floor, you assume she’s seen it all. Not that there’s much to see. It’s the training floor so there’s nothing but gyms and a locker room. Getting in the elevator, you press the number for one of the floors dedicated to just hanging out.

Not liking the silence of the elevators, Wanda breaks it with a question.“ So why didn’t you join the Avengers?” 

“Um,” you take a deep breath and release it as a sigh,“ I’d already done the whole superhero thing before. The Avengers came in and I was no longer needed.”

“Oh really?” She asks and her tone of voice makes you chuckle, then nod.“ And what made you want to be a superhero?”

The elevator stops and the doors slide open.“ I saw what they could do. The difference superheroes make in people's lives.”

Picking up on the shift in your energy, Wanda frowns, ignoring the very expensive looking stuff in the room.“ What happened?” She asked carefully, as if she were trying not to trigger something. 

“I-” you sigh softly, contemplating whether to actually tell her or not. Looking into her eyes you see past the general curiosity and what you find pushes you to tell her. 

So you both get comfortable on one of the couches in the room and you open up to her.“ I was taken by HYDRA when I was fairly young. And it’s not like the guards and scientists were interested in anything other than making me the perfect weapon. So when they started to experiment on me I was already in a horrible state physically. My health was on a steady decline and none of their experiments worked, it actually made me fatally ill. And with no further use of me, they’d left me there to die.” 

Wanda listens intently, eyes misting with tears at the information of your mistreatment.“ But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” you both laugh softly at that.“ The, at the time soon to be, founders of SHIELD were working with the US military to shut down HYDRA after World War II and they found the facility I was being held in. While they saved everyone who was being held captive there, I was in the worst shape. Seeing that I was on the verge of death, they made a decision to administer the super soldier serum to me to save my life.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise and you have to admit that her expression is amusing.“ You’re a super soldier from World War II?” You nod.“ How old would that make you?” 

“I’m 90. And I wasn’t in the war. I was born before the war. When it started I was 16 and already in a HYDRA base.”

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. You know she has another question on the tip of her tongue. And with her background, having volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, you know she’ll have a lot more questions after that.

So with a deep breath, you ask what’s on her mind and tuck in for a long conversation.

* * * 

After a long day at SHIELD, going over papers to further induct the twins into the Avengers, Natasha finally gets back to the tower. She ignores all the SHIELD agents rushing in and out of the lobby and goes straight for the elevators. 

Mentally, she admits that after the headache that is going into SHIELD, the sound of your laugh as soon as she gets on the main floor is refreshing. A small smile forms on her face and she makes her way towards the kitchen where she hears your voice.

While she knows you’re friends with the rest of her team, she can’t help but wonder if you came here to see her.

That thought falls short the instant she reaches the kitchen doorway. She quickly finds that the source of your laugh is the same young woman she’d just been recruiting onto her team. 

In fact, laughter comes from you and Wanda as you cook together. The aroma smells incredible but she can’t help but to remember that this is the very same thing the two of you had done on multiple occasions. 

“Nat, hey, when’d you get here?” 

Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she almost smiles again. Almost. 

“A few minutes ago.” She decides to take a step closer, which puts her right in the doorway.“ What’re you two making?”

“Um,” your eyebrows pinch together and you look at Wanda.

“Paprikash.” She answers with a quiet giggle and a shake of her head. 

You smile at her then look back up at Natasha,“ we’re making Paprikash.”

The redhead hums, debating with herself on whether she should stay or not. An indescribable feeling nagged in the back of her mind, growing more persistent as she looks at you and Wanda happily interacting with one another. It gradually chips away at her excitement to spend time with you and she hates it.

With a huff she says,“ I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, effectively dodging the blue blur that is Pietro running into the kitchen, heading back to the elevator. With her floor practically empty due to the move, she wasn’t eager to go up but it seemed more relaxing than watching someone else make you laugh and smile how she did. 

Just as the elevator doors have started to close you slip through, narrowly missing getting your arm caught between the doors, and stand directly in front of her. Your eyes scan her form, up to her face and lingering there. She watches as you take her in, your eyes finally meeting. 

In a soft voice, one that practically melts her heart, you ask,“ are you okay?” She can’t say she expected you to ask that, plus the equally as soft look in your eyes, she grasps for an answer. One that isn’t ‘I didn’t like seeing you so happy with someone else’.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day and my floor isn’t exactly relaxation friendly right now.” She excuses. 

Nodding along, you smile a little at her,“ think I could help with that if you’d let me.” And there’s no way she’s saying no.

That’s how, a little over thirty minutes later, she finds herself following you into your apartment building with takeout bags and beer in hand. 

You hadn’t explained the plan until you were picking up the food. Telling her that a change of scenery might be exactly what she needs. Her trying to relax and unwind at the Tower was equivalent to a lawyer trying to relax at their firm.“ You can’t destress from work at work.” You reasoned. 

Unlocking your door, you gently push it open and hold it for Natasha. She wasn’t sure what to expect of your apartment, but what she finds definitely isn’t it.

Walking into your apartment makes her a little confused. It’s like stepping into a time vault that housed a number of different eras all at once. While things like your appliances and a few tables or paintings were modern or at least from the last decade, your couch, chairs, and even your cabinets look dated.

It was as if you furnished your home without a single clue of what you actually knew you wanted to present. But it’s you. Natasha finds that it almost perfectly embodies the person she’s come to know you to be. 

Since the moment she met you it was clear you were equally as present as you were stuck in the past. Your friendships with Tony and Steve showed that in an ironic way. With Tony the majority of your conversations or bonding was over the future, things he was planning, building, or tinkering with that would change the future. While with Steve you focused on the way things used to be in the era you grew up and were raised in.

“Nice place.” She finally says, moving her eyes from the kitchen to you.“ Very, you.”

The look you give her makes a small giggle leave her lips. You seemed so proud of her first comment and then the second one made you frown, as if you couldn’t tell if you should take it as an insult or a compliment. 

“Don’t think too hard Y/ln, your ears are starting to smoke.” She says jokingly, patting your cheek without giving it any thought. Her turning away makes her miss the way you flush at her inconsequential touch. 

At your invitation, she makes herself at home, finding a spot on the couch and starting to unpack the food. You join her shortly after with plates and forks, turning the tv on and going to a channel you both enjoy watching. 

“How you feelin about the move?” You ask, picking up your plate and leaning back against the couch. Even though the tv is on, Natasha can’t help but notice that all your attention seems to be on her. 

While she is definitely used to the attention, men and women alike focusing solely on her because of her looks, your attention is different. She knows it would be unreasonable of her to think you aren’t paying attention to her for her looks because well, when she gives you attention the first thing she looks at is your looks. You’re incredibly attractive, especially to the redhead. But it was more than that. 

On both ends, yourself and Natasha saw the physical beauty, but you looked beyond that. You saw the beauty of each other’s personalities. 

You’re lighthearted, you have an outlook on life that she finds intriguing, and not just because you’re decades older than her, it was how you maintained a fairly optimistic view on things despite the cards you’d been dealt in the past. On top of that you’re honest and caring, especially to the people you consider friends and family.

As far as she goes, you see her in, almost, the same way she sees you. She’s honest. Shows her care in a way that you find adorable, mainly because it’s so nonchalant. Her will to keep going, to endure the many trials she’s been through. Her strength never fails to amaze you. Not to mention the absolute admiration you have for her in regards to her clearing her ledger. Especially since being an Avenger means so much more to her than just that. 

That thought alone sends a rumbling of butterflies in her stomach and she hates how childish it feels but loves it all the same. 

“Um,” she looks down, letting her hair curtain between you two to hide the blush that rises.“ I can’t say I feel any particular way about it.”

When she feels your fingers ghost over her cheek, she has half a mind to grab your hand and break it, but it’s you and she’s been secretly craving your touch. In the softest gesture she’d ever been on the end of, you brush her hair back. Your fingers lightly run over her cheek and temple as you hook her hair behind her ear. 

She looks over to see you drop your head slightly to catch her eye, a little smile on your face.“ It is okay if you aren’t all that happy to be leaving. The tower has been your home for the last few years. An attachment or even familiarity with it is understandable.” 

“I-” she sighs, just barely tilts her head closer to your touch, then lifts her head.“ I’ve never had a home Y/ln.” She knows you can hear the hurt in her words, cause admittedly she didn’t hide it like she usually would. She doesn’t feel the need to with you.

You go quiet for a moment and Natasha wonders if maybe she should’ve kept her somber comment to herself. The instant she considers walling herself off again, you speak.“ Well then maybe,”

She raises an eyebrow at you.“ Maybe what?”

“Maybe this could be your home.” You swallow, nerves manifesting in the way you play with your food.“ I know you’ve only just been here today but, everyone deserves a safe haven. Somewhere they can escape from the rest of the world. Everyone deserves a home.” You finally look back into her eyes,“ especially you Nat.”

You didn’t know but in that moment you got to her in a way no one else ever had. You didn’t tear her walls down. Instead, as if understanding the very reason the walls had been put up in the first place, you built a door to her heart and soul. And only you hold the key to it.

She’s hit with the weight of her feelings for you, feelings she’d never had for anyone before. As terrifying as she finds it, she can’t help but think that if there’s anyone who she could trust to be gentle with these feelings it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz

[jimlingss]

i have a request for something Taehyung! maybe taehyung christmas/holiday??? OR taehyung and the prompt "Give me attention"??? honestly i will take anything taehyung 🤩

↳ The Best Friend’s Older Brother Cliché

2.3k || 99% Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Best Friend’s Older Brother!AU

Taehyung is your best friend’s older brother. 

It’s so entirely cliché that you cringe whenever you think about it, but it’s true and it happened…..you had the tiniest crush on him in high school. Okay— it was a big, fat crush. But you weren’t willing to admit it, not then and certainly not now. Mostly because it’s weird. Plus there’s the fact that it would be breaking the code of honour between besties. Sisters before misters.

The last thing you would want is to make Joy upset. 

But when you came home from college in the summer and Taehyung returned from his own studies abroad...you didn’t expect him to look like that.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“H-Hey.”

Taller. Leaner. Better dressed.

Maybe it had just been a long time since you’ve seen Taehyung. Maybe you had gotten desensitized but the long period away from him made you hyper aware of his existence again. Either way, seeing him made you realize that he had very much become a man.

He was no longer just the unattainable, cool teenage boy that you swooned over but left behind nonetheless in your coming of age years. And that fact slapped you across the face.

You didn’t expect for him to be like that either.

To smile at you like that. To strike up conversations. To be interested in what you were doing, where you were going.

“What are you majoring in again?”

“Anthropology.”

“Really? That’s super cool. I took one anthropology class when I was a freshman. Do you like it?”

“It’s not too bad. I think it’s interesting.”

Taehyung smiles faintly. “I always knew you were smart.” 

It was one date. 

You came over. Joy was abruptly called in to fill a shift at her summer job at the ice cream parlor.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I swear I’m going to choke Jimin.”

“And then who’s gonna have to bail you out? Get going before you’re late.”

“Promise we’ll hang out more tomorrow.”

“Have fun at work!”

Taehyung happened to be there, hanging around the house, and he offered to drive you home.

“You really don’t have to.”

“I’m not going to make you take the bus in this hot weather, you know that right?” The corner of his mouth tugs easily. “Just get in the car.”

Except you both stopped to grab a small bite. A burger and fries. While sitting out at the park.

You’re not sure if that even constitutes as a date — there was nothing said about it, no mention made, all entirely too casual to be considered one. But it was the first time you and Taehyung were alone together.

Okay, if that counts...then technically it was two dates.

You and Joy went out to Jungkook’s party. She had a little too much to drink and the pair of you needed a ride home afterwards. Naturally, Taehyung was the one who picked you up in his car, begrudgingly, as Joy fought him before she laid down in the backseat, but he still flashed you that smile.

“Had fun tonight?”

“It was alright.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t end up going home with him.”

“Who?”

“You know. That guy with the glasses you were talking to on the lawn.”

“Namjoon? Oh no, we’re just friends.”

“Hmm. Is that so.”

After Joy was put to bed and tucked in, Taehyung asked if you wanted to stick around to watch a movie. You might or might not have cuddled into him during those three hours, but really was it cuddling? He just slung his arm over the couch where you were sitting and you leaned into his chest.

The two of you were just getting comfortable.

Alright, if that counts, then it was three dates but just three!

Taehyung asked you out personally, but it was to help him pick a gift for Joy’s birthday. He drove you downtown and you walked together in the streets, checking out boutiques before parading around the mall.

“What do you think?”

“Joy hates camo print and she doesn’t need another backpack, Taehyung.”

“Perfect! So she’ll love this then.”

He ended up getting a sweater she’d been eyeing for months.

When it became dark and you got hungry, instead of being dropped off at home, you went to the night market together on a whim. You snacked, had conversations and exchanged numerous stories. You still remember the laughter and how much your cheeks ached when you finally jumped into bed that night.

But before the summer ended, before you both left for your respective colleges, he wanted to talk.

“I had a lot of fun this summer.”

You eye him. “What did you even do this summer?” 

“Hang out with you.” Taehyung grins, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I liked it.”

“Good. I might be hurt if you thought this entire time was awful.”

“I like you too much to ever think that. But...hear me out. What would you think we made things offici—

“We’re going to be super busy,” you interrupt in a panic, having a sense of where he was going with this. “...going to different schools and all that.”

You search his expression while schooling your own. Taehyung stays silent for a second and tries to read you. You’re not sure how successful he is.

“Right.”

“I’ll contact you, Taehyung.”

He smiles at that and eases. “Okay. Yeah. Sounds good. You can call or text me anytime.”

“Anytime?” You try to lighten the mood by shooting him an incredulous look. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“If it’s you, it wouldn’t be a bother. Trust me.”

Except when you got back, you didn’t call him. You didn’t text him either.

You only saw him briefly when Joy would occasionally facetime him in the same room as you, when you were merely a figure in the background and Taehyung would ask who it was.

“Y/N, of course, who else?”

And you would give a small wave.

There were no conversations, no small talk, no exchanges of laughter. But it was better that way. Otherwise, you wouldn't know what Joy would say, how she’d react. You don’t even know if he’s serious about you. And you’re too scared to find out the answers to any of these questions.

It didn’t matter anyway. Deep down, you know Taehyung should be kept at a distance. You know it would be better if these feelings could fade away as a sweet, brief summer romance.

What you didn’t anticipate is to come over to the Kim’s for the holidays a few months later.

“Where are you going?”

Taehyung’s following after you, trailing at your heels like a lovesick puppy. “And don’t tell me you’re showering because you already used that excuse to avoid me today.”

You spin around, masking your startlement at just how close he is, and you frown. “I’m not avoiding you.”

The corner of his mouth tugs. “We shouldn’t lie to each other, sweetheart, even if you have the tendency to do that.”

You feel hot in your face from the pet name. “I never lied to you.”

Taehyung raises his brows. The both of you know then and there it’s a lie.

“My empty phone says differently.”

You cross your arms defensively. “I never promised I’d remain in contact. I was just...busy with classes.”

“Oh. Another lie again.” Taehyung grins, and he exhales softly causing a hundred goosebumps to raise along your skin when you feel the warmth of his breath. “You should really stop your bad habit, Y/N.”

You take a step back and he steps forward.

Before you know it, he’s cornered you in the dark hallway, staring at you intently before his half-lidded eyes flicker to your lips.

You swallow hard. “Go annoy your sister instead.”

“Why should I?” His mouth slyly curls. “I like you way better.”

For the entire duration of the break so far, the both of you have been sneaking around the whole time. From Taehyung instigating a game of footsies under the dinner table to whispering in your ear when no one’s looking to winking at you from across the room so quickly that you’d miss it if you blinked. You feel his affectionate hand on the small of your back when he slides by you, feel his gaze when his shoulders graze yours, and you feel the tickle in your tummy when his voice lowers into that seductive, husky pitch. 

During the summer, he was kind and friendly Taehyung. Cautious when it came to you. Hesitant to look your way.

But this time, he’s intensified. Flirtatious. Bold. Pulling out all stops.

Maybe it’s because he’s pissed that you didn’t contact him like you said you would. Maybe because he doesn’t understand why you’re restraining yourself, and he feels the need to push to know. Maybe because he suspects you know he likes you, and you like him — he wouldn’t be wrong. 

But either way, his new brazen approach was making you weak in your knees.

“Your mom’s coming,” you mutter while pressing your hands to his chest. You don’t know how or why he feels so firm.

“She isn’t. But even if she was, she’d be more than happy to know we’re together.”

“W-We’re not together, Tae.”

“That could change right now.”

“I...I can’t.”

His thick brows furrow. “Why not? I like you, Y/N, a lot.”

You swallow hard, feeling scrutinized under his heavy gaze. Taehyung’s beauty is lethal when he’s this close and you feel an urge to brush away the dark strand that’s fallen in front of his forehead from his neatly styled hair. It was a contrast to the casual hoodie and sweatpants he was wearing. He was handsome and cozy, ready to stop hearts or be hugged like a teddy bear.

It didn’t help that he was saying these kinds of things either. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” His voice drops a pitch. “For the past few months, I’ve been thinking about the summer and you. The entire time, I was waiting for you to call me, to text me. Do you know what that’s like?”

“Taehyung.”

“We can make this work. I want to make it work, so don’t make me wait anymore.”

You gaze at him, breath hitched in your throat and your self-control meets its limit. You practically leap onto Taehyung, heart thundering against your rib cage, standing on the tips of your toes — all to kiss him.

It’s soft and unhurried. 

Taehyung is caught off guard, but then you feel his wide smile against you. Immediately, his strong arm reaches for your waist and he tugs you in. A yelp escapes your throat as your bodies become flush against one another. Taehyung’s other hand presses against the wall behind you and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue licks into your mouth and you groan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He tastes like sugar cookies, smells like citrus, and absolutely makes your knees weak.

You’re not sure how long you and Taehyung make out for, swapping spit like horny teenagers without experience.

It’s not until you hear a— “what the hell!” — do you break apart.

Joy is standing at the end of the hall and you shove Taehyung away from you, wide-eyed. He stumbles back, equally surprised.

“I-I can explain!”

Joy’s jaw has gone slack and you realize she’s waiting for said explanation.

“I….I…we….umm….”

Taehyung looks at you and then at his sister, opening his mouth to rescue you from this mortifying experience. But his sibling beats him to the punch—

“Look.” She raises her hands and you brace yourself. She wouldn’t end your years of friendship over this, would she? Then again, you can’t blame her if she did. “You don’t have to make this weird. It isn’t weird unless you make it weird. So I’ll just pretend I didn’t see anything.”

“Wait.....what?” That was certainly not the reaction you were expecting. You think you’re more taken aback than she is. “You’re okay with this? You’re okay if we’re dating?”

Joy nonchalantly shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. You’re adults, so you can make your own decisions and I kind of had a feeling there was something going on anyway.” She smiles and looks at her older brother. “Taehyung, you’re way too obvious. The biggest gift under the tree is for her from you.”

He grins. “You caught me there.”

You’re shell-shocked at how unconcerned she is and seemingly supportive at that.

“You knew?”

“Of course I do. We’ve been friends for what, ten years? I knew you had a crush on my brother back then. So if anything, it’s about time.” Joy raises her fist at Taehyung. “You better not make Y/N cry or I’ll make you cry.”

He snorts. “Wow, thanks.”

“Anyway, continue.” Joy lazily gestures. “But we’re watching a movie in five so be quick.”

Your best friend leaves to the bathroom where she was heading to in the first place and you turn to Taehyung who has an amused grin. “Well?”

“I don’t know.” Your mind is reeling at everything that’s happening and how real this is becoming. “For some reason in my mind, I thought that would go way worse.”

“Is that why you were so worried? You didn’t need to be. Joy likes you way more than she likes me, so if anything I’d be the one getting the flack.” Taehyung smiles and leans in. “But does this mean we can finally make it official? Can I call you my girlfriend already?”

You sigh and lift your arms to loop around his neck again. He leans in for another kiss, but you stop short an inch— “Depends on what that gift under the tree is.”

Taehyung grins and before you can pull away, he tugs your waist into him once more. 

This time you kiss each other unabashedly. 

[greenygreenland]

Date: Jean Havoc x Reader (w/ Big Brother Roy Mustang)

REQUESTED

-PRETEND ROY IS YOUNGER FOR THE SAKE OF THIS ONE-SHOT (say, like 20-ish) -sorry this took so long. I had an internship and it got a little crazy

-idc about the timeline because this is a one-shot and i’m not gonna use my big brain lmaooo

Summary: Overprotective Roy? Yes. You’re dating Jean Havoc and your bro watches your first date from the shadows.

Nervous. That was the first emotion you felt when you stepped out of the front door. Today was a big day, maybe more so than you’d like to believe. The sun shimmered overhead, where the sparse clouds drifted lazily across the sky. “Bye, Roy,” you called. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock.”

Roy was your elder brother by four years. If a guard dog had a human personification, it would definitely be him. For all your life, he wrote himself off as the responsible sibling. He acted like his grades were better than yours, like he was the one to take out the trash, or finish all the dishes before cockroaches decided to make home in them.

Anyone would have thought that to be true. After all, Roy was young and rose up the military ranks at an alarming rate. But you knew better, along with his close colleagues. Roy was stupid, overprotective, and impulsive. He would do anything that interested him, and if it didn’t, he’d pay no mind to it.

You prayed your brother would pay no mind today.

The front door slammed open with a creak. “Where do you think you’re going?” Roy inquired. He squinted at you as if you were about to do something stupid. “And what are you wearing? I hope you have shorts under that.” You rolled your eyes and adjusted the purse slung over your shoulder. 

This sun dress was a gift from Jean for your (age) birthday. The skirt flowed in the passing breezes like a flower, illuminating all the vibrant colours under the rays of sun. It was a beautiful dress. If Roy thought otherwise, you’d make him understand. “It’s called a dress, doofus.” you sarcastically replied. “Not like you’d know when you only see Riza in the Command Centre. Poor you. Haven’t gotten the chance to see her in a skirt, huh?”

Roy averted his gaze to the sky with a haughty huff. “What are you talking about? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” Heat rose up his cheeks. “If you’re implying I harbour romantic feelings for my First Lieutenant, then you’re--”

“A hundred percent correct.” you stated with a smug smirk. “I’ll be back around sixteen o’clock. Don’t burn down the house.” If Roy accidently did, you wouldn’t be surprised. He was the Flame Alchemist, and above all, your stupid big brother.

“Where are you going (Y/n)?” Roy called. You flung your hair over your shoulder with a bright smile that could have blinded even the sun. “A date, of course.” Okay, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to rub salt in a wound. What Roy didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. But then you saw look on his face. Nevermind, it was totally worth it to rub in his face: jaw agape, eyes as wide as saucers, and shoulders hunched down.

Ah, it was good to be you.

The city bustled with life. With the sun shining, and the beauty of living in your palms, you trotted down the street. There was nothing that could ruin your date.

"Jean!" Your tone was light as a laugh escaped your lips. "It feels like I haven't seen you in a while." 

Cherry red dusted his cheeks. He stuffed the unlit cigarette into his pocket and offered you a hand. In his other, he placed a single (f/c) flower between your hairclips. "I saw you yesterday," he said with a bashful smile. "What do you mean it's been a while?" You bumped shoulders playfully and intertwined your fingers together. "Hyperbole, Jean."

"Well, it's one hyperbole too many." He remarked with a grin. "Do you want to have sandwiches today or a hot meal?" You shrugged, leaning against his shoulder. It was comfortable to have him hold you like this as you made your way down the street. He always had this secure way of linking your arms with his.

Off to the side, Roy couldn't say the same. It wasn’t like he planned on following you. Curiosity just swept him out of the house. And besides, what you didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt, right? Right.

Roy wished Jean didn’t hold you like you were some stuffed animal. For all he knew, Jean was just playing you. It wouldn't be the first when he had over fifteen other girls in the past four months. If Jean broke your heart, he'd be sure to fry the man up to a crisp. "Damn him," Roy grumbled. He pulled down his fedora and adjusted the glasses over his nose. "What makes him think he can touch (Y/n) like that?"

You suddenly laughed loudly at some joke. “Stop!” you cried, playfully smacking his arm. “That’s the worst one I’ve heard all week!” 

Roy slinked out of the shadows with a low huff. He shouldn't have worn such a thick jacket. It had to be over twenty something degrees today. But that was no matter because you were being whisked away to the park--by Jean! Roy hurried down the street. Since when did you get lunch? And what was Jean going to do to you?

"The park's a good place." you noted. “Let’s go there.” The bag from Sally's Sandwiches hung from Jean's arm. It swung back and forth as he happily pranced along the street with you hand in hand. "Good thing I remembered to bring a blanket this time. We can sit under that tree."

Oh, what was Jean going to do to you? Roy couldn't stand the thought of you walking with him like that. There had to be an ulterior motive to this 'date'. Maybe Jean wanted to leech off you for money, or maybe he would try seducing you in the park? Roy shook his head. No, no.

Jean wasn't a bad guy. Maybe Roy was thinking too far ahead. But what if he wasn’t? What if Jean pulled some sneaky plan?

You crossed the street just as a car wildly swerved. Its tires screeched against the road like nails on a chalkboard, grinding against stone until it came your way. Roy frantically popped out of his hiding space. "What kind of idiot would--"

Suddenly, you slammed a hand into the ground. The stone transmuted, blocking the car from any unnecessary collisions. It smacked straight into the wall, smoke and steam rising from its engine. "(Y/n)!" cried Jean. "Are you okay?" He frantically placed a hand on either of your shoulders and looked you up and down. A smile rose to your lips. "I'm fine. Not even a scratch."

A sigh escaped Jean's lips. "That's good. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt." You placed a gentle hand to his cheek and pecked it (Roy wanted to gag). "I'm an Alchemist. It'd be a shame if I went down by a car."

"Don't joke about that," Jean chastised. He hooked his arm with yours again and led you away from the screeching onlookers and police. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Roy blinked. Did he hear Jean right? 'I don't know what I'd do if I lost you'? What was that supposed to mean? “Look at them, being all lovey-dovey...” Roy continued after the couple. They passed through a field of forest green grass, where flowers bloomed in straight, uniform lines all around. It was a beautiful spot to have a picnic. 

You swung your arm, hand in hand with Jean. The sun kissed your heads from the Heaven’s, illuminating a bright happiness Roy couldn’t look away from. Urgh. He wanted to kick something, or better yet, set a tree on fire. How could you two look so perfect? You were only (age) and that was far too young to be dating. 

Besides, you had a career in the military. If your little ‘relationship’ was sealed with a ring, you’d be separated. “Did they even think that through?” Roy grumbled to himself. He gritted his teeth together and ducked behind a bush. 

“Excuse me sir.”

Roy glanced over his shoulder with a false smile. “Ah, what is it?” A little boy ball up and down in his hand. The glare on his face could have been intimidating, but Roy was Roy Mustang. He wouldn’t let some kid look down upon him. “Are you lost?”

The kid clutched the rock so tightly his knuckles turned white. “My mama said to watch out for creepy people. I think you fit well, Mr. Pervert.” He took a step back and launched the ball at Roy’s head. “Take that!”

“What are you talking about?!” Roy exclaimed. He jumped out of the bushes and brushed the leaves from his jacket. Boy, it was getting terribly hot in the sweltering heat. Poor Roy found himself losing what little patience remained. “I’m not a creep, kid! Where are your parents? If I was a creep, you would have been kidnapped already. I’m just trying to make sure my sister...!”

At that very second, you so happened to come to a stop. At that very second, you so happened to stare. At that very second, you so happened to recognise a face among strangers.

Roy was royally screwed. 

The little kid pointed at Roy as if he were the most wanted criminal in all of Amestris. “Lady!” he screeched. “I saw this guy watching you since you got here! He’s a creep! Call the cops!” Jean squinted at Roy. At first, he actually believed the kid was telling the truth. What kind of normal person wore a winter coat, a fedora, and a pair of sunglasses if not to deal drugs in the alleyways?

“Hold up...” Jean blinked owlishly. “Colonel, is that you?!”

You released Jean’s arm. “Oh, it’s him alright.” A menacing glare rose to your face as you cracked your knuckles. What was Roy supposed to do? The wrath of his sister was not something he could brace himself for, especially when she could be just as impulsive as Edward Elric.

Roy waved his arms in denial. “I don’t know what that kid’s talking about. I just happened to pass by, and in the process, I ended up dropping my wallet, which turned out to be in the bushes, so--”

“Save it.” You cracked your knuckles and pulled on a glove. “It’s time to crank up the heat, because we’re having fried Alchemist tonight.”

Anger. That was the only emotion you felt as you chased your big brother around the park. Today was supposed to be a big day. You planned to walk around, maybe go shopping, and spend the night wandering around with Jean for a whole day. But no. Your stupid, idiotic, big brother had to be the creepy party crasher.

[katsukisblackteddy]

Okay, I know I already sent you another request, but this one...I just had to drop this one on ya. Can I request Bakugo, Hawks, Shinsou, and Dabi’s reaction to seeing their black s/o getting hit on in the most cringiest, fetishizing way while they’re standing next to them? Since the s/o is dating them, they know the things that should and shouldn’t be said to a black person, but the weirdo goes to them and says things along the lines of:

“Do you taste as chocolatey as you look?”

“Lemme conquer you in the bedroom”

“Twerk on me like Megan Thee Stallion”

And “Our kids are going to be great athletes”

Like the she is just stunned into mortified silence since she couldn’t process the audacity for someone to say something so disgusting. She’ll let her man’s handle it cuz the last thing she needs is to be charged with homicide.

(Trust me, writing those lines hurt me but not as much as it hurt when I was told these things 🤢)

“Why Don’t You Just Do Us All a Favor and Shut Up?”

You don’t understand how many times a trashy guy has said something like this to me thinking I would find it cute or attractive. So gross! As a society we need to do better and stop sexualizing and fetishizing black women and girls.

also the gif has nothing to do with this, I just thought it was cute.

Anyways...starts below the cut!

Warnings: swearing, fetishization of black women and girls, sleazy trashy guys, protective boyfriends, sexual implications

“Katsu, can we get ramen at that new place that just opened up the street?” (y/n) questioned, her (eye color) eyes wide with anticipation.

“Ok.” The usually explosive blonde agreed, snaking his larger hand into her slightly smaller one. (y/n) had finished training earlier and since it was a light day, Bakugou had suggested they walk around the downtown area. “It’s over this way, right?” (y/n) nodded simply, looking around at the different shops they passed on their way to the new ramen restaurant.

Ever since Katsuki had begun dating the black girl, he had calmed down significantly, though only around her...with everyone else he was just as explosive as he always was. The black girl was fiercely protective over her friends and especially Katsuki, though he didn’t really need it; probably a part of her tiger quirk, though it came off as more endearing than annoying.

“What are you gonna order?” She wondered, making small conversation as they waited to cross the street.

“What I always order.” He answered simply.

“The spiciest thing on the menu.” (y/n) and Katsuki said at the same time, (y/n) rolling her eyes with a smile.

“You won’t have any taste buds left if you burn them all off.” She teased as Katsuki rolled his crimson eyes at her, holding her close to him as they continued to wait.

A whistle caught the couple’s attention, Bakugou’s eyes narrowing as they fell on two boys standing at a shop located behind where they were standing. The two boys looked the same age if not a little older than (y/n) and Katsuki, the taller one had lime green hair and matching lime colored eyes. His pale face had a smirk plastered on it. The slightly shorter of the two had pink hair the color of bubble gum, lavender eyes focusing on the black girl, a smirk on his face also.

Despite (y/n) usually being confident, there was something highly uncomfortable about the way they were eyeing her that made her uneasy.

“Hey Riku, you think she’d go for someone like me? You know I have a thing for exotics.” (y/n) turned around, deciding to ignore them, they weren’t worth the time. She gripped Bakugou’s hand, turning him around, trying to think of something to say to distract them both from the annoying boys.

The ash blonde sent her a bewildered look, confused as to why she wasn’t going to say something to them. “They aren’t worth it. They’re extras, right?” She joked, flashing a half smile at her boyfriend.

Bakugou tched, but decided not to say anything since (y/n) didn’t seem to want him to.

“You know why exotics are the best?” The lime green haired boy questioned, loud enough to make sure Bakugou and (y/n) had heard it.

“Why Riku?” The bubble gum haired boy said, a creepy glint in his eyes.

“Because of that fat ass.” He snickered. “You think she’d let me get a taste of that chocolate?”

(Jesus Christ, I cringed writing that. 🤢)

Bakugou’s head whipped around to glare at the two boys, (y/n) turning around to look at them, holding herself back, but too shocked by what she had heard to catch Bakugou before he did something that would attract the attention of police.

“You two fucking clowns better shut the fuck up before you get a taste of my foot shoved so far up your asses it’ll be coming out of your fat fucking mouths.” Bakugou growled, punching them each in the face, making sure to heat up his hand so that it would definitely leave a mark.

(y/n) looked around to see a few people watching, as she let Bakugou beat up the boys before she finally decided it was enough. She placed a hand on his shoulder, as he looked up, the feral look in his crimson orbs dissipating to a gentle one.

“I just wanna go. Can we please, before the police get here?” She questioned as he punched them and kicked them a few more times before standing up and nodding.

“You won’t be fucking needing these either.” Bakugou said, going through their wallets, taking the money out before snapping the cards in half and tossing them on the street next to the boys who remained on the ground. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand, as she grabbed it and they walked across the street. “I hate these fucking extras.” He grumbled as they got to the ramen restaurant. Bakugou Katsuki had every intention of using the money he had just taken to pay for everything, it was the least they could do.

The woman was on her way to her apartment, getting off early from her patrol because not only was it a Friday, but the day after was her 23rd birthday and her pro-hero boyfriend seemed to have planned something, despite her telling him he didn’t have to.

Her phone rang, taking (y/n) out of her thoughts as she slid the answer button seeing her boyfriend’s picture pop up. “Hey Kei.” She answered happily, stopping at the corner, waiting to cross the street.

“Hey, Kid.” Came his response, causing the black woman to smile. “You got off early right? You wanna get (your favorite food/ drink)?”

“Really?!” (y/n) grew excited, her voice raising an octave as a laugh bubbled from her full lips. The couple was usually very busy and that meant they didn’t have a lot of time to just go to restaurants and walk around the downtown area, but since they had managed to get the afternoon and weekend off, Hawks was going to take full advantage of it.

“Yeah.” He laughed back. “I’ll meet you there?”

“Ok! Love you.” She told him.

“Love you too, Kid.” He said back before hanging up. (y/n) crossed the street, walking towards their favorite restaurant, her hero costume folded in the black backpack she wore on her back. She too was a pro-hero, though she wasn’t as popular as her boyfriend, she had recently gone pro in Japan, already a famous pro in her native country. She slid her phone into one of the pockets of her black jeans, her simple white t-shirt half tucked into her pants.

She increased her stride, her smile widening as she saw the crimson wings of her boyfriend up ahead. He turned around his own smile growing as she got closer. “How was patrol?” She asked him as he hugged her, the pair pulling away and intertwining hands.

“It was fine...kinda boring.” Hawks answered as they walked inside the establishment.

“Woah.” The cashier said softly, after ringing up your orders. Hawks paid, even though she protested though he responded by saying it was her birthday weekend and she wasn’t allowed to pay. The cashier, who seemed a little older than the two of the pros, named Ukyo, handed her her drink practically ignoring Hawks.

Keigo frowned, growing slightly annoyed, though he wouldn’t really peg himself as the jealous type, Ukyo just made everything very uncomfortable and Hawks was growing irritated that (y/n) was uneasy. It was the protective nature in him, which he would admit could get a little intense at times.

“Um, thanks.” (y/n) replied with a slightly awkward laugh before looking at Hawks to say she was ready to go. They had planned to walk through the park nearby. As they were stepping away, Ukyo called out.

“Hey wait, pretty girl!” He called out, catching the dark skinned woman off guard. “You forgot something.” She turned, raising an eyebrow before going back towards where Ukyo stood behind the counter. He held out a napkin to her, his messy chicken scratch handwriting on the piece of paper. “It’s my number. You should call me sometime, I’d love to get to know you more.”

“I already have a great boyfriend.” (y/n) replied, giving him a smile as he still pushed the napkin to her, managing to stuff it into her bag. At this, Hawks stepped closer, still remaining silent, wanting to let her handle it because he didn’t want to come off as overbearing or suffocating. “Really, I’m not interested. I love my boyfriend.”

“Who? Him? But our kids would be so cute! They’d be great athletes, you know?” He smiled widely at her, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her from leaving. Hawks had heard enough, at (y/n)’s silence and the way her eyes seemed to bore into his own, he dislodged some feathers, sending them at the cashier, stopping them a few centimeters away from him.

“Let her go, before you make me really mad.” Hawks said, glaring at the male, sharpening the feathers into blade-like devices, his golden eyes shining with anger.

“Chill out, Man! She’s hot! She was practically asking for it!” Ukyo put his hands up, Hawks’ eyes narrowing as a growl almost sounded from deep in his chest.

“You’re lucky my girlfriend’s here.” Hawks chuckled darkly, as (y/n) placed her hand in his own. “I would’ve cut your disrespectful racist ass.” Hawks walked away with (y/n), sending the feathers at the wall behind the cashier, just narrowly missing him.

Hawks smirked as he stepped outside, hearing the high pitched scream that came out of Ukyo at the feathers going near him, fearing he was about to be sent to the hospital. Hawks glared at him through the shop window, his wings flapping behind him as if he was about to send more feathers causing Ukyo to scream again, though this time a wet spot began to grow in his khaki colored pants.

Hawks’ eyes lit up as a loud laugh fell from his mouth causing (y/n) to laugh lightly. “Fucking bitch.” Hawks muttered as they walked towards the park. “I should’ve sent the feathers into him.”

“No, you did enough Kei.” (y/n) giggled, Hawks growing happy that he had gotten her to laugh after that rude cashier incident.

Every week after that Hawks would purposely walk past the shop, launching a feather through the window and into the wall, an adult sized diaper held to the wall by the sharp crimson feather, a note usually attached saying:

‘just thought you might need to start wearing these.

I hate you,

Hawks.

Ps: Show this to anyone, tell anyone about this, or do something like that to another person again and I’ll send the next feather so far up your ass, you’ll need surgery to remove it. xoxo’

(i decided to insert another character, like Mineta but 100x worse and not jokingly either. His name is Shintani Narisuke.)

(y/n) was sitting in the common room where everyone from the general studies class usually hung out during their down time. Although, surprisingly it was empty except for the purple haired Shinsou and his lavender haired girlfriend, (y/n). It honestly was just a coincidence that the pair both had purple hair, though the girls from their class thought it was the cutest. (y/n) placed her head on one of Shinsou’s shoulders as they watched a random movie on his laptop, pushing her goddess braids so that she could be more comfortable.

The common room was empty only because one of (y/n)’s friends and classmates had told everyone that they couldn’t go into the common room because Shinsou and (y/n) were on a date. Everyone obeyed her...she was kind of scary when she was determined about something.

“How can he just get away with that?” (y/n) questioned, placing some popcorn into her mouth, pausing to place some in Shinsou mouth as they continued to stare at the screen. The pair alternated, the next time Shinsou threw some into his mouth and then fed some to (y/n).

“I hate that guy...he reminds me of that annoying little grape kid in 1-A.” Shinsou mumbled, causing her to laugh.

“Mineta?”

“We don’t speak his name.” Shinsou joked as the pair broke out into laughs again.

“Hey (your nickname)!” The pair turned, Shinsou pausing the movie, to see Shintari Narisuke enter the room. (y/n) raised an eyebrow at the use of her nickname, that ONLY Shinsou used for her.

“It’s (your full name).” She corrected him.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The average height boy pouted, sitting down next to her, causing Shinsou to sit up more, a frown on his face.

“What do you want, Shintari? We’re busy here.” Shinsou chimed in, slightly annoyed as he rolled his tired purple eyes.

“Not that busy.” The aqua blue haired boy responded, flashing a fake smile at Shinsou. His eyes narrowed as the frown on his face deepened.

“What do you want?” Shinsou repeated.

“Hey (y/n)...” Shintari dragged out, looking at the black girl with big eyes.

“Yes?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you kind of look like Megan Thee Stallion?”

“No…” The girl answered, confused as to where this was going. To her they looked nothing alike, though she was one of her favorite female rappers. “We don’t even look alike.”

“Your ass does though.” He answered smugly. “You think you could split on me like she does?” (y/n)’s eyes widened as she tried to process what he had just said. She was at a loss for words, completely surprised that he would go that far.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Shinsou grew angry, standing up and getting in the blue haired fool’s face. He had noticed that she was still slightly shocked, which is why he decided to handle it, because normally she was the one that would jump to put someone who needed it in their place.

“She heard me. Right, (your nickname)?” He said teasingly, his eyes not even looking at Shinsou. The usually disinterested male grew increasingly more angry, at being ignored and at the boy for using his nickname for his girlfriend.

“Do you think you could answer something for me?” Shinsou questioned catching the boy’s attention as Shinsou’s grip on his shirt tightened.

“Yeah, what do you want, Villain?” Shintari asked, falling for the trap. Shinsou’s purple eyes glowed softly as he activated his quirk.

“Shut the fuck up and…” Shinsou paused, really wanting to tell the kid to go take a long walk off of a short pier, but he knew he would probably be in trouble if he did that, so he took a deep breath. “Lock yourself in your room for the rest of the week and don’t come out.” Shinsou ultimately decided, letting the boy go with a smug smirk watching him walk down the hall.

The purple haired male turned, his focus going to his girlfriend who had a sick look on her face. “You okay, kitty?” He asked softly, sitting beside her. She simply wrapped her arms around him, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I hate that asshole.” She mumbled.

“I do too.” Shinsou agreed. “I’m sorry he said something like that to you. That was fucking gross.”

“Thanks for handling it.” She half smiled at him. “I think I would’ve killed him...then he really would’ve called me a villain.”

“Who gives a fuck, let’s finish the movie.” Shinsou laughed lightly, causing her to laugh too. “Besides, he already calls me a villain.”

(For this one (y/n) works in a bakery)

The black girl came from the back of the shop, a tray of fresh cookies in her hands, the sweet smell filling the store. She opened the glass cabinet, carefully transferring the cookies inside before going to return the tray to the back of the bakery.

Customers sat throughout the store, reading books from the bookshelves in the corner, drinking their coffees and teas while working, or simply just enjoying the warm atmosphere with their friends. (y/n) came back to the front, taking her place behind the register after washing her hands.

She looked up from where she had been adjusting a machine to the door, the sound of the ringing bell meaning someone new had entered. “Hi Baby.” The deep gravely voice said. She could hear the smile in his voice as she looked up, her own smile growing as she immediately recognized the voice.

“Hi Staples.” She teasingly replied. “What are you doing over here? I thought you were busy today.”

“I needed more.” He replied, holding up the bag at his side with the black hair dye inside.

“You want my help when I get off?” She clarified as he nodded, his blue eyes looking over her appearance. “What? You don’t like my uniform?” A soft smile on her face as she wiped down the counter.

“No, you look good.” His signature smirk appearing on his burned face. (y/n)’s heart fluttered slightly, the fiery boy never failed to make her heart skip a beat even after two years of dating.

“I get off in 50 minutes. You wanna hang around? I just made a fresh batch of cookies.”

“The ones I like?” His eyes seemed to sparkle like a kid in a candy store. Dabi loved to act big and bad, and that side of him was definitely...hot, but you loved to see the goofy childish side of him as well.

“Yeah, your favorite.” She replied, a large smile on her face as he nodded quickly, the dark hood of the sweatshirt pulled up on his head. “Alright. Here. I’ll be done soon.” She handed him a few cookies, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he slinked off to the seat he usually took in the corner of the shop when he waited for you.

(y/n) watched as he stood, picking up a book he had already started last time he came, sitting back down and flipping to the page he had left off on. Dabi...Touya wasn’t a bad guy, no matter what anyone told her, otherwise.

She was pulled out of her thoughts at the chime of the bell, a blonde man walking into the store. He must’ve been a traveler because he looked lost, especially with the way he had pulled up directions onto his phone. (y/n) gave him a friendly smile, “Hi, what can I get you?”

“I’ll take a...hot chocolate.” He said weirdly, giving her a smirk as his light eyes trailed up and down her body, at least the part that wasn’t hidden behind a counter. She nodded uneasily.

“Anything else?” Her mood had dropped, already tired of the male customer.

“How about your number?”

“No, sorry. I’m working and I-” He cut the girl off as she handed him his drink, ringing it up after she had made it.

“Come on, if it’s because I’m white...I’m hung like a black guy, if you know what I mean.” He said to the girl, Dabi’s eyes narrowing as he practically glared a hole through the blonde man.

“E-excuse me?” (y/n) repeated, blinking as she ran her hands over her apron, stepping back from him. She wasn’t even sure that had just happened, nothing that bad had ever happened at work before, just the occasional Wow, so pretty or Your hair is so fluffy, like a cloud from a few children when she wore it in an afro, that made her smile though, the kids were cute and everyone was generally respectful.

“If that’s why you won’t give me your number, you don’t have to worry about that.” He repeated.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up.” Dabi chimed in, catching his girlfriend completely off guard. She hadn’t even noticed he had come up behind him or moved from his seat.

“What’s your problem man? I don’t think this involves you at all.” The blonde guy shot him a glare before turning back to the black girl behind the counter and stepping closer. Dabi’s blue eyes seemed to hold small flames in them as his anger grew. A dark chuckle left his lips as he harshly brought his hand down onto the blonde shoulder, heating it up until the man’s jacket was practically smoking.

“That’s my girlfriend, man.” Dabi told the man mockingly, his voice low and his eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t mind you calling her pretty, because she’s gorgeous but if you disrespect her, then you’re gonna deal with me.”

“Ew you fucking creep. I’ll call the police.” He threatened after turning and seeing Dabi’s face. Dabi tilted his head to the side slightly, a slow smile growing on his face, though it seemed more eerie than anything.

“I’ll give you something to call them about.” Dabi threatened. “Now, why don’t you leave and if I see you around here again, I’ll burn your ass so bad you’ll be virtually unrecognizable.”

“Fuck all of you. This place is shit anyway and the bitch behind the counter looks like a fucking monkey.” The guy announced going to walk out of the bakery.

“Not acceptable. Apologize.” Dabi demanded, his hand going around the blonde’s neck as he heated his hand up, making sure it would leave a burn.

“Sorry.” The guy cried out, Dabi rolling his eyes before shoving him towards the door, a scoff leaving his lips as the guy tripped on the way out.

“You know you’re gorgeous right?” Dabi questioned as (y/n)’s best friend and coworker told her to go home after that incident. Dabi grabbed (y/n)’s hand, waving back at her coworker before the couple walked towards their apartment, (y/n) excited to dye Dabi’s hair.

Tags:

[dreamescapeswriting]

SKZ Reaction | Protective Because Of Sasaengs

Chan:

It was the usual crowd of people that followed the boys around but something just felt off today, Chan was holding on your hand tightly while his laptop was in his carry on in the other. He was always the protective one in the relationship but lately, with the newest comeback things had gotten a little crazier, fans were starting to act insane and more Sasaengs were starting to crawl out of the woodwork.

"Chan," You whispered as he tightened his grip on your hand, the place was overly crowded and you could see that the other boys were starting to worry about it as well.

"I know," He whispered back to you making sure to hold you as close as he could get you. He didn't want anything to happen to you while he was responsible for you and he also didn't want someone to grab onto you. While he was busy focusing on you he'd neglected to cling tightly enough onto the case he was carrying his laptop in and someone snatched it.

"Babe!" Chan yelled trying to stop you running after them, his arms grasped you tightly to stop you rushing away so that the security guards could do their jobs. Your breathing was heavy as you got angrier at the thought of someone coming that close to Chan like that, they could have grabbed him or one of the boys, seriously hurt them.

"Hey, look at me. Look." Chan pulled you behind the barriers were fans were being held off from and he forced you to look into his eyes.

"I'm okay, look." You stared up into his eyes as he cupped your cheeks, though his face was covered by the mask he was wearing you could tell he was doing his best to keep a smile on his face and keep you calm throughout all of this.

"We're all okay," You stared into his eyes trying to search for any sign that he wasn't but you could read him like a book, his laptop was returned instantly and you both began walking towards the terminal you needed.

Minho:

Your day had been amazing, not a single person had noticed that you and Minho had taken the day off to go shopping and doing basic tourist things together. It felt like a regular date with him rather than having to sprint away from destinations hand in hand trying to avoid crazy fans who stalked him.

"We should do it again," You said softly as you sat in the back of Soul Cup cafe waiting for your drinks, the date was slowly coming to an end and you were going to have one more drink before you left him.

"I think I have another day off next week, I'll ask Chan when I get back to the dorms." He sat down in front of you so he was facing away from the entrance so no one would notice him if they happened to come into the cafe.

"Yeah that sounds-" You stopped yourself talking when the bell above the door began to chime and crowds of people begin to walk in and began looking around, you immediately knew one of them. You'd spotted her around all day but thought it would just be a coincidence but now it was positive to you that she was a Sasaeng.

"Minho..." You whispered looking at him as she spotted you in the corner together,

"We need to leave, can you get out any other way?" He nodded his head explaining the back exit for employees and you nodded at him.

"Go, go and I'll figure out how to take care of these-" You were pulled out of your seat by him as he rushed you both towards the back exit. He wasn't about to let you try and stop Sasaengs when some security guards could barely do that,

"Just run and don't look back." He chuckled holding onto your hand tightly and headed in the direction of a car park where he could lose them all.

Changbin:

You hated when the crowds picked up whenever you were out with the guys, the last time it got bad like this your bag was stolen because they thought it would have something inside of it but luckily Changbin had thought ahead and told you to put your things in his pockets. This time however someone had just made off with your phone and Changbin was left trying to get a security guard to find it.

"It has everything on their Changbin, your number, the boys, everything." You panicked looking around, you were about ready to kick ass for someone coming that close to you and Changbin when they weren't supposed to. People had been grabbing onto the guys all morning and trying to pull them closer but luckily security had been doing a decent job up until now.

"What if they get your number!?" You panicked looking back at him, his hands cupped your face forcing you to look at him instead of around at the crowds of people.

"Look at me, if they have my number I can change it. That's changeable." He promised you, you knew how much Sasaengs terrified him as well, you'd seen it when one of them had followed him and Jeongin home one night.

"I just can't stand the thought of someone-" You were cut off when your phone was being held up in front of your face, a girl - that couldn't have been any older than 15 was holding it up for you.

"We saw a Sasaeng running off with it so we chased after her," You turned to see three girls all aged around the same age and you smiled thanking them as you took your phone back from them.

"I owe you guys one," You yelled as you began moving with Changbin and the boys again.

Hyunjin:

People had been crowding around the JYP building for hours, you should have expected it since one of the Sasaengs that constantly followed Hyunjin had tweeted out where he was and who he was with - you. STAY had been positive about the relationship finally being out in the open since JYP was hardly one to allow their Idol's to date, they were happy to see Hyunjin was happy with you. However, Sasaengs hadn't taken it great and were using their platforms to tweet out where you both were at every minute of every day.

"We have to get home, the car is outside alright?" You said to Hyunjin, you were ready to protect him through everything and if that meant standing on one side of him while a guard took the other you were willing to do that.

"Hold my hand alright?" You knew how nervous he got around things like this so you wanted to make sure he was going to be okay with everything happening,

"Lets go." You whispered moving in time with the giant guard, as soon as you stepped outside screaming started, begging for pictures and flashing lights. You weren't used to any of it at all but you kept your head down trying to head towards the car when a cup of freezing liquid splashed across your top.

"Car now." Hyunjin ordered pushing you faster and away from the Sasaeng that had thrown the cold drink over you, a couple of them started yelling about how it was your fault they weren't allowed to have photos when it had been the policy that he wasn't allowed to stop at all.

"You alright?" You asked as soon as the door shut and he shook his head at you,

"I'm supposed to be the one asking you that not the other way around." He sighed, searching through his bag for a shirt that you could change into.

Jisung:

Jisung span you around under his arm before pulling you back towards him and smiling down at you, even though the mask covered his face you could still sense how big his smile was.

"You alright? You've been weird all night." By all night he meant the last couple of hours, you'd snuck out of the dorms together at 3 in the morning to go to a local 24-hour store and get ice cream. It was one of the best times to get out because no one would suspect it, no one could guess that you'd been wandering around the streets together. He was in his usual disguise though - hoodie, baseball cap and a giant mask to cover his face.

"I just feel like we're being followed, ever since we left the store." You whispered looking around for any sign that it was true, it wasn't uncommon for Sasaeng's to follow Jisung around but since it had come out that you were together as a couple they'd began following you as well.

"We're alone-" He stopped midsentence when he heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter, that was all it took. You took his hand in yours and began walking in the opposite direction of the dorms, you weren't about to get him and the boys caught up in all of this. You didn't want to have their dorms address spread all over the internet, so you took Jisung through alleyways and back streets to get out of the way of the Sasaeng, you'd take these routes a lot over the last year of dating Jisung, you knew what you were doing.

Felix:

You knew flying with the boys was never easy but you would have thought it would calm down once you were on the plane but it hadn't. Some Sasaeng's had managed to get tickets onto the same flight as you, Felix and Chan. You were heading to Australia for part of their time off but people had managed to find out your flight times despite it being as early in the morning as possible and booked under false names they'd found you.

"They're right in front of us babe." You wanted to do something to protect both Felix and Chan but they didn't seem that phased by it, they had been in the game a lot longer than you had but it didn't stop you worrying about Felix.

"I know but I need to use the restroom, I can't hold it for a 10 hour long flight." You sighed watching as he got up from the chair and made his way down, the moment the fan saw him she got up from her seat. You went to stand up when Chan laid his hand on yours and shook his head, instantly a flight attendant and a security guard was escorting the ''fan'' back to her seat and making sure that Felix was on his own the entire time. They really would stop at nothing to be alone with the boys and it scared the hell out of you,

"See, told you it was fine," Felix smirked at you sitting down next to you again and laying his head on your shoulder. They were probably going to sleep through the whole flight but you couldn't. You felt like you were going to stay awake the entire time just to keep an eye on both of the boys.

Seungmin:

There was a huge crowd gathering around outside the small game shop that you and Seungmin had walked into, you were hunting for a new game for your switch and Seungmin decided to tag along with you  - it seemed like no problem at first but then people started to recognise him and tweet out about where he was.

"Y/n?" You looked up at the guard that was manning the door of the shop making sure that no one else had access into the building,

"Hmm?" He pointed at one of the girls standing at the door, she was wearing one of the shortest dresses you'd ever seen and waved at you.

"Claims she knows you?" You shook your head, you'd never seen her before in your life but Seungmin had,

"She's one of them," Was all he said to the guard before moving you away from the door.

"Sasaeng? They're everywhere." You whispered wrapping your arm around Seungmins waist and moving further into the store not wanting to be stared at by anyone that was looking through the window. They'd been getting creative lately, instead of just following the boys around they'd started to follow you hoping that you would lead them back to your apartment or the dorms but you never did. You took shortcuts to lose them but if you couldn't find a way to lose them you wouldn't go home, you'd go somewhere more public where plenty of people could see you and you could lose them in the crowds. All you wanted to do was protect Seungmin from them but some of them were insane.

I.N:

You and Jeongin had lost the guard when you were fighting to get out of the huge crowd that had been to swarm around you both. You'd gone on a day trip to a small mall thinking it would be easy enough not to be spotted but all it took was one fangirl seeing you and it was all over the internet, where you were, what he was wearing so they could easily find you.

"I think we lost them." You breathed heavily bending over on your knees to try and catch your breath, Jeongin held onto your hand tightly trying to keep hold of you in case they suddenly found you again when you heard a camera. You turned to see one of the girls you'd seen a million times, she was always around no matter what, she'd followed you both onto a plane once.

"Jeongin, behind me." You whispered you weren't sure what you were going to do but him being behind you felt like one of the best ideas for now.

"Y/n, you can't-" Her hand reached out to touch him as she started yelling about how much she loved him so you pushed him back away from her before pulling him into a run and began sprinting through the mall together.

"Can you remember the way back to the car?" You asked while running up a set of stairs and towards the in building car park, no one had followed you out yet which was a good sign.

"Yeah, fourth floor." You got into one of the elevators instead and hit the fourth-floor button when you noticed all of them lighting up to say someone was pushing it,

"Out and run," You told him not to look back until he got to the car and that you would just meet him up there.

"All clear?" He asked as you got into the car panting heavily,

"Took them to the top floor and said that you were in the farthest car away, then I ran down the stairs and they didn't follow me." He sighed bringing you into a hug as you waited for the guard to figure out where you'd gone.

Tagline: 

@snowy-meowl​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @yunhoesss​

[definitelyseven]

hurts so good | seven

summary: growing up with Park Jinyoung was never easy and things are about to get worse when you’ve been asked to marry him

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve - final |

"I haven’t been in here since university,” you reminisced as you walked around the wine cellar.

“Yeah, I don’t let many people down here anymore. It’s my secret layer,” he joked while pouring you a glass of wine. 

“I remember hiding down here every time my dad and I would fight and every time Jinyoung was mean to me.”

“Jinyoung will always be an ass,” Jaebum said, clinking his glass against yours. 

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled not so softly as you followed him to the couch. 

“So tell me why you blew up in his face today? You were always so good at being oblivious,” he smirked, taking a sip of his wine.

“Are you trying to upset me?” you asked rhetorically. “I never knew about the other women until I saw those photos. I knew he didn’t love me, but I never thought he would cheat on me.”

“What did you think was going to happen, marrying someone you didn’t love?”

You stared at Jaebum, downing your drink. “Would it have been different if it was you?”

It was time to make your move. 

He gave you a weak smile, turning to his side to face you. “Yes,” he replied, firmly. You turned to face him, inching closer to his face. 

“Why didn’t you ask me then?”

“Do you know why Jinyoung and I never got along?” he deflected. You nodded. “Do you know the real reason?” he inched towards your face.

“You’re obviously dying to tell me. Spit it out,” you demanded.

Jaebum gulped his drink down before setting the empty glass on the table. “Because I love you,” he confessed. 

You froze at his words. Jaebum was always nice to you and you knew he cared about you very much. You just never imagined that he loved you all this time. 

“Surprised?” he chuckled. 

“I-I,” you stuttered.

“You always loved Jinyoung. What was I supposed to do?” It was as if you forgot how to speak. Jaebum reaches for your cheek, stroking it lightly with his thumb. He scans your face from top to bottom. “Even if I told you, would it have made a difference? Would you have changed your mind?”

“You were already married to Chaewon,” you whispered. 

“I guess not,” he said before taking his hand off your cheek. You grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a hug. 

“I didn’t know,” you whispered again. “I really didn’t.”

Jaebum lets out a light chuckle while stroking your head. “I never told you. It’s not your fault.” 

You pulled away from him slightly with your forehead on his. “I know if I married you, I would’ve been happy.”

“I would’ve loved you to the moon and back. We would’ve been happy,” he said, stroking your cheek again. “We might even have children,” Jaebum said inching towards your face. He traces his thumb across your lips. “We’d make pretty children, don’t you think?” 

You laughed, “I don’t think I’ll ever have children. Jinyoung won’t even touch me.”

“What a waste,” he flirted while staring at your lips. “He’s missing out,” Jaebum cooed, leaning in to kiss your lips.

You pulled back, lightly pushing him away with your hands. “We could say all these things but it will never happen,” you explained to him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

Jaebum shakes his head, “No, I understand.”

“No, you don’t. I was mad at Jinyoung and I wanted to use you to get back at him. But I could never use you and hurt Chaewon. She loves you so much. She’s pregnant with your child.”

“I’m not mad. Use me,” he tells you. “Use me,” he repeated. 

You gave him a weak smile before getting up and leaving. 

“What are you doing?” You looked up from the floor and towards the voice. It was Jinyoung. “What are you doing in Jae’s wine cellar?”

“You don’t tell me everything you do so why should I?” you snapped, attempting to walk past him. He stops in front of you. “Yes, I was with your brother down there. Do you have a problem?”

“What were you doing?” he grunted. You ignored his question and walked straight to your room. “I asked you a question!”

“And I’m supposed to be the obedient little wife and listen to you?”

“Yes!”

“Bullshit,” you spatted. “Your brother and I were having a drink downstairs, talking about how perfect it would be if I married him instead of you,” you provoked, inching closer to him. “I would’ve been happy,” you ridiculed. 

“You would’ve been married to a man that can’t take his own father’s name. You’ll just be mooching off my family like your dad always did.”

You lifted your hand up, on the verge to slap him across his face. Jinyoung grabs your wrist, stopping you from slapping him and pushes you onto the bed. 

“I own you,” he said getting closer to you. 

You let out a loud laugh. “You’re wrong. Your brother owns me now,” you lied.  You could see Jinyoung’s face turn red. He was angry. You knew nothing would piss him off more than him knowing that you’ve been with his brother - everything was a competition to him; even you. 

Jinyoung climbs onto of you as you struggled to push him off. “You’re mine,” he repeats before leaning down to kiss you. You tried to push him off but he was too strong. You felt his lips on your neck.

“Jinyoung, stop!” you screamed.

“Why? Don’t you want this?” he smirked. “Haven’t you been dying for me to touch you?” Jinyoung asked rhetorically. His hand inches up your dress and towards your panties. “Come on baby,” he tried to convince. 

“Not like this,” you tell him. 

“Like how then? All my women like it like this,” he smirked, leaning down to kiss you. “You are my woman, aren’t you?”

This time you let him. You wanted him to know that you could give him what those other women gave him and that you were a hundred times better than them. You wanted him to regret not loving you. 

You kissed Jinyoung back, catching him off guard. He pulls you closer to his body as he deepened the kiss. You felt his tongue slip in your mouth. Besides the little peck he gave you on your wedding day, he’s never kissed you. 

Jinyoung slowly pulls out of you and falls in bed next to you. His chest heaving up and down. You turned to your side to face him. His eyes were shut, arms behind his head propping himself up slightly. He licked his dry lips as you watched him catch his breath. You inched closer to him, attempting to lay your head on his sweaty chest. Jinyoung immediately pushes you away, sitting up in bed. He pulled the comforter off his lower body before hurrying to put his clothes on.

“W-where are you going?” you stuttered, hugging the blanket over your chest.

“Come on, Y/N. You don’t expect me to stay.”

“This is your bed. I’m your wife,” you reminded him. 

He smirks at you, pulling his boxers up. “You want to be like all the other women, right?” He leans down towards your face, grabbing a hold of your cheeks in his hand. “I never stay after sex.” He pushes you away from him before walking out. 

You quickly got dressed and followed Jinyoung. You wanted to know where he was going. Who was he seeing that was so important that he had to leave you? 

You swore for a second you felt that he genuinely cared for you; loved you. 

“What’s wrong?” Jaebum asked, seeing you rush out of your room. 

“Jinyoung just left. I need to know where he’s going.”

“Why do you need to see when you know where he’s going?” You didn’t know how to respond to Jaebum because you knew he was right. You knew where he was going so why hurt yourself even more by seeing yourself. “Come on,” Jaebum said dragging you to his car. The both of you followed Jinyoung’s car to a bar downtown. Jaebum parks his car across the street where the bar was. “Do you want to go inside?”

“No...” you said hesitantly. “I just want to wait here.”

“It’s been an hour, Y/N. Just go inside and see for yourself.” You don’t respond to him. Your eyes were glued to the door, afraid that if you looked away you’d miss him. “Y/N, cut your losses while you can!” Jaebum tries to persuade. 

“There he is!” you shouted. There he was - clearly drunk. But what you didn’t expect was the women he was with; Jisoo. He had his arms around her and she was helping him inside a cab. “It’s Jisoo...”

“I didn’t think-” 

You cut him off, “I didn’t either.” You threw your head back against the seat. “I’m so stupid...” you whimpered. 

“Hey,” Jaebum comforted. “Jinyoung’s an ass. This is not your fault.”

“No, you must be so disappointed in me,” you said. He immediately shakes his head. “I slept with him,” you confessed. “I slept with him because I wanted to prove to him I was better than the other women. I let him play with me...” 

Jaebum pulls you in for a hug to comfort you. “Shh...it’s okay.”

“I wanted to be better so badly that I let him toy with me. But how can I compare to Jisoo? She’s not like his other women; not like me. He loves her...”

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 479

McCoy

He was happy, walking hand in hand with Scotty down the familiar streets of his home. McCoy looked around, watching the people around them, looking in windows at displays and telling Francine all he could about the city around them.

Scotty had finally seemed to relax as well. He had been in his element in the store, choosing the tools that would work best for him. McCoy and Francine had shared a relieved glance behind Scotty’s back as he chatted with the store owner.

Now walking to the park, McCoy gave Scotty’s hand a squeeze and felt it returned. The sun was warm even if a cool breeze was blowing. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Francine the park was one of his favorite places in town.

Sarek had one of the guards walking in front of them while he and the other guard walked behind. A third guard had been left with the car, on the chance they needed to be picked up immediately.

McCoy stumbled when Scotty stopped moving. His fiancé’s fingers tightened around his hand uncomfortably but before he could turn and ask, a scream left Scotty’s throat.

“What? What’s wrong?” McCoy asked, instantly worried.

“Monty?!” Francine had moved in close with an arm around her son.

Scotty’s eyes had gone wide and McCoy saw his fear. Sarek and the guards moved in close and Sarek was speaking into a comm.

“What? What?” McCoy asked desperately. His own anxiety was growing in his chest watching Scotty breakdown.

Passersby were staring. McCoy felt their curious gazes.

Slowly, finally, Scotty raised his arm and pointed across the street.

“Khan.”

McCoy barely heard him whisper the word over the city sounds. He pulled back and looked where Scotty was pointing. He saw nothing. He pulled Scotty close again. He had stopped screaming.

Sarek made a motion and one of the guards took off across the street. In another second the car was pulling up beside them and Sarek was hurrying them into it.

“Breathe Monty,” Francine was saying as she held her son close in the car, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

A shuddering breath finally left Scotty and he went limp between McCoy and Francine. Sobs began to shake him as he rested on Francine’s shoulder, hands tight on her arms.

“Nothing sir.”

McCoy heard the guard climb in the front of the car and turn back to Sarek. He was just breathing a bit hard from running.

“Good. Take us back to the palace,” Sarek ordered. “We can review security footage there.”

The car began to move. McCoy managed to free one of Scotty’s hands from Francine and held it tightly in his own. The drive back was quiet except for Scotty’s tears and Francine’s soft Gaelic soothings.

“I will let you know as soon as we know,” Sarek told McCoy as they entered the palace.

“Ok,” McCoy replied. He didn’t know what he hoped they’d find. His own nerves felt shot. If it was Khan Scotty had seen… he didn’t want to think about that. But if it wasn’t… What could they do to help Scotty?

He had finally stopped crying on the drive back and had simply sat silently between his mom and McCoy.

“Come on Monty, love,” Francine said, “we’ll have some tea and settle. Everything will be alright.”

Slowly Scotty nodded. He let Francine guide him, but he clung tightly to McCoy’s hand still.

Part 480

Scotty

Still shaking, Scotty sat on the couch in Eleanor's sitting room. His mother sat to his left and Leonard to his right. Both tried to calm him down; Francine with her words and Leonard with gentle touches.

Eleanor poured them all tea before taking a seat across from them. Scotty could see concern reflected in her eyes.

"What happened?"

Scotty couldn't answer, still hadn't found his voice again.

He swallowed hard and listened to Francine's explanation.

"Monty... Monty saw a boy in town. He... he thinks it was that Khan."

It had been him! It had been Khan! Scotty had seen it with his own eyes! He knew that figure, that dark hair, that pale skin....

"Leonard?"

Eleanor looked questioningly at her son, who only sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I... haven't seen him."

Scotty knew it must sound crazy, but hearing his fiancé's words, he clutched at his shirt and looked at him pleadingly.

"It was Khan. P-please, ye have to believe me."

Tears filled his eyes as he saw doubt flash in Leonard's eyes. Why? Why did Leonard doubt his words?

"Scotty..."

His eyes widened as he heard the tone in Leonard's voice.

"Ye... ye don't believe me."

It was nothing more than a shocked huff that left his mouth. Leonard didn't believe him! His fiancé didn't believe him!

"Scotty, I..."

Leonard grabbed Scotty's hands, but before he could justify himself, there was a knock on the door and Sarek and David entered.

All eyes shifted to the two men. David held a PADD in his hand and his concerned but gentle gaze fell on Scotty as he stepped over to him.

"Scotty, was this the boy you saw in town?"

The king spun the PADD around in his hand and Scotty's eyes fell on the screen.

There... was the image of a surveillance camera. A crowd of people... and in their midst...

Scotty shook his head in disbelief.

That... was impossible. Coal-black hair, white skin...

"It wasn't?"

At David's question, Scotty just blinked in shock.

"Y-yes. That... that's the boy, but..."

That wasn't Khan. The longer Scotty looked at the picture, the more aware he became.

"That's not Khan," Leonard carefully spoke out the words that traveled through Scotty's mind.

Slowly, the Scotsman let go of his fiancé and buried his face in his hands.

Blood rushed to his cheeks and the lump in his throat swelled sharply as the feeling of shame washed over him like a wave.

He... he had been wrong. He had really been wrong.

"But I... I was so sure. I..."

He didn't know what to say. All the people who had seen them on the street. All the articles that would be written about him and Leonard.

"We know that, Monty. We know that."

His mother wrapped her arms around him and softly cradled him back and forth.

"He looks just like him," Leonard said, too, stroking Scotty's back soothingly with his hand.

Everyone tried to justify his behavior.

"I'm sorry."

[itsthestutterforme]

Don't Pretend (Vincenzo)

Y/N is a very successful civil rights investigator and a friend of Cha-young. Cha-young called her when she needed help building their case against Babel. Chairman Han seo thinks she's a threat, but Jun woo thinks otherwise.

Pairings: Joon woo x reader (romantic), Cha young x reader (platonic), Vincenzo x reader (platonic)

--

I didn't even set foot in my apartment yet and Cha young called me for help. I love her and all but it seems like she's always in trouble with someone. She wants me to meet her at a theater because she wants me to meet someone.

She said it was urgent, so I didn't even stop by for food, so this person better be the President of South Korea or something.

I step out of my vehicle and walk through the entrance to see a swarm of reporters surrounding a group of people. One of those people was Cha young and I spin around on my heel, not in the mood for talking to reporters.

"Y/N!" Cha young calls. "Damn it," I say to myself before turning back around. "You didn't mention there would be reporters," "Surprise," she says.

I shake my head and she shrugs. I look to a random spot outside and say, "Oh my God, is that Jay Park and his new girlfriend? Look over there by the garden!" You point to a random couple that was walking past the garden.

"Jay Park! Where?" The swarm of reporters then went outside towards the garden. I roll my eyes and said, "They're like ants searching for food." I make my way towards the group and Cha young links her arm with mine.

"I missed you," she says and I grumble lowly. "Y/N, this is Vincenzo Cassano. Mr. Cassano, this is my colleague and close freind, Y/N," Cha young introduces.

"Seems like you're far from home, Cassano." I say in Italian, much to his surprise. He raises a brow at me and says, "I could say the same for you. The last I saw you, you were handling business in Siena."

"And you were handling business in Milano. Nice touch with the garden. It was beautiful," I compliment and he smiles. "Thank you, I try."

Cha young looks between me and Cassano and says, "You two know each other?" "Vaguely," I comment. "And who are they?" I add, motioning to the older woman, older man and two young men. "The enemy," Cha young says nonchalantly.

"For enemies, you seem awfully close," "Believe me, we're not," an older woman snaps. "Don't get your panties in a twist. I'm just making an observation." I snark. "Excuse me?" she steps closer to me and Cha young does the same.

"Careful, she hates being touched." Cassano states. "I'm heading back to my loft," I say before giving Cassano and Cha young a nod.

"Who are you?" The older woman asks but there was something about her that urked me. I give her a once over before walking back through the entrance.

--

"She's Y/N Y/L/N, a civil rights investigator and the top in her firm. Not only that, but she has correlations with mafias across three different continents. She has the resources to take us down," Han seo says and a small smile creeps on Joon woo's lips. "Why are you smiling?" Han seo asks.

"She's very accomplished," Jun woo answers. "And it's her accomplishments that scare me, brother." "Don't be. I'll handle her," "Handle her how? Like kill her?" "I don't want to, she seems interesting. But I will if she continues to be a threat to us."

--

I have to get back into the my workouts. I feel like I've put on a little weight while I was in Italy. It's not like I had any choice. Telling Nonna no is like kicking a puppy, no one can do it. Nonna offers you food, you always say yes. That's an unwritten rule that everyone follows.

My sneakers wrap around perfectly around my feet and I could barely feel the ground when I ran through the city park. I always make sure that it was light enough for things to be visible but early enough that there was only a handful of people in the park itself.

I was on my third and final loop when I saw the black van move across the street and park next to the sidewalk I was running on. I stopped to catch my breath for a moment before running in the other direction. I hear a door open and several footsteps run behind me.

I grab the nearest thick branch I could find and wait until they were close enough. I swing the branch as hard as I could, hitting three men in the face. They fell to the ground and I focus on the two guys rushing towards me at once. I duck around one and punched the other in the throat, leaving me with just the one man.

I bring up my guard and shuffle my feet but the man runs in back into the van and drives away. "You okay?" A voice asks from behind me and I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around and kick his leg out from under him. He falls to the ground and I apply pressure to his chest.

"Relax. I'm not the bag guy here." He strains. "Wait a minute, I know you. You're the-" "A friend of Cha young." He places his hand on my outter thigh and I say, "I wouldn't know if friend is a term I would use. She called you the enemy."

"She was referring to the rest of them," "What ever helps you sleep at night." I finally stand up from his chest and he takes a deep breath.

He stands up from the ground and that's when I notice that he was shirtless. My eyes softly scan the smooth, tanned skin of his pecks. My eyes snap up to meet his and he cocks his head teasingly.

"Speechless?" "I'll never give you that satisfaction," I snark as he steps closer to me so I have to look straight up just to meet his eyes.

The next thing I knew, I am washing off his touch and scent in the shower. Well trying to anyway. Halfway through my shower, he decided to join me and trail his hands down my hips.

I moan softly when he presses my body the cold tiled wall and kisses my neck. He hooks one of my legs around his waist and slowly trails his hand along my inner thigh.

My phone blades, scaring us both. I pull away from him and he says, "Just ignore it." "She's been calling me all day, she already knows that something is up." I walk out of the shower and dry my feet before wrapping a towel around my body.

I answer the phone and Cha young yells, "About time! Where have you been!" "I, uh, I went shopping. There was no food in my refridgerator or cabinets." I answer calmly.

"Don't you have a maid for that?" "I'm not lazy enough to have a maid, Cha young." "Well, you had me worried. I thought someone took you hostage or something." She finally says without yelling.

"You really think they are capable of that?" "They are capable of many things. Be careful, Y/L/N." Vincenzo says in Italian.

"Bene, ciao," I say before hanging up. I turn around to see Joon woo inches away from my face. "Did you enjoy the past few hours?" I ask. He steps closer to me and motions to the scratches on his chest from my nails.

"What do you think?" He says softly. There's just something about him speaking softly that makes my knees buckle. The worst part is, I think he knows that.

"Good, because that's the last time that'll happen." "Do you know how many times I've heard that? And how many crawled back to me?" He says cockily. "Yes, but I'm sure you'll be the one crawling." I say, tapping his chest before walking out of the bathroom.

--

My worst nightmare came true today. One of my closest friends was murdered last night by a rival mob leader. The boss says not to engage them and that he will handle it, and my anger dwindled down to sadness. I took a day to myself and cried my eyes out in my bed.

Goosebumps littered my body as cold chills rolled through. I wince as the cold, damp fabric of the t-shirt grazes over my warm back and I took it as a sign to hop in the shower. Squatting down on the shower floor, I duck my head under the scalding hot water. The water rakes through my hair and trails down my body when I hear the doorbell ring.

I dry myself and slide on some shorts and a sweatshirt Joon woo gifted me in attempt to see me again. It took Joon woo two weeks before realizing that I wasn't going back to him. After wards, he sent me flowers, teddy bears, sweatshirts and a 10k watch that looked like it costed a fortune.

I gave the teddy bears and flowers to random people in the street and the watch to Cha young and the look on Jun woo's face when he realized it was the gift he gave was aboslutely priceless. But I gladly kept the sweatshirts because they were too cute to give up. I walk down the stairs and wipe away my tears before opening the door.

Joon woo stands in the door way and he looked happy about something. But his smile soon falls when he sees that I've been crying. "You've been crying. What happened?" He tried reaching for my face but I slap his hand away. "Stop. Don't pretend like you care about me." I snap but he lunges forward to grab my face.

I take a few steps back and his hold on my face softens. "Of course, I care about you." He says, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. I sniffle and wipe away more of my tears. I always hated crying in front of people, it made me feel weak.

He grabbed the remote and sat on the bed. He pulled himself to the head of the bed and takes me with him. He pulls me between his legs and leans my back into his chest.

He searches through the channels and stopped at a cartoon before wrapping one arm along the clavicle of my neck. He wraps the other across my waist and says, "You don't have to talk if you don't want to."

"Why are you here, Joon woo?" I croak, wiping away my tears. "We won our settlement case and I wanted to celebrate with you." "We're literally enemies," "Isn't that how it always is? Enemies and polar opposites attracted to each other?" He asks and I look up to meet his gaze from behind.

He examines my face as he waits for a response. "I guess that is how it goes, isn't it " I lean on his shoulder and he presses the side of his face against my temple. "I lost my best friend today," I add with a sigh.