#man i just wanna sit on my porch in peace

[sunnyyray]

80 MPH WINDS INCOMING ARE U FUCKED

[j-eryewrites]

Endure and Survive

Chapter Five of " A Sinner's Redemption"

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SERIES MASTER LIST | MAIN MASTER LIST

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Infected, descriptions of gore and violence, death, character deaths, suicide and mentions of suicidal ideation, the pieces finally click, LOTS of angst and little comfort, guns and other weapons (let me know if I mentioned anything)

Author's Note: I hope everyone had a pleasant holiday season! I was planning on this chapter to be around 10k but it ended up being 14k (I got a little carried away hehe) Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading it! Feel free to leave comments and reblog! I love hearing your thoughts. Thanks for your support!!

Sleep had come easy to Piper. It was a foreign feeling as peace swept over her mind and body. And for the first time since she was twelve, Piper dreamed. The dream wasn’t unique; She sat on a porch watching the sun go down, taking a rainbow of colors with it. Hues of pink and orange flooded her view, and for once in her life, she felt alive. Of course, it wouldn’t be a dream if she was alone, so sitting next to her was Ellie. Her younger sister was bright, and her skin glowed under the departing sun. It was her and Ellie. Ellie and Piper.

Piper leaned into her sister’s shoulder, and a smile formed on Ellie’s face. She was reading her joke book. Ellie always had it with her. Piper peered at the pages and snickered when she found a horrible joke. Then, another figure sat down next to her. Piper was puzzled as she turned to her right. Joel. It was Joel. Joel was in her dream. Whatever confusion Piper felt washed away at the sight of him. She felt oddly at home. Dazed, she looked at Joel, Ellie, and the sunset. It felt unnatural not to have adrenaline pumping through her veins or her mind and heart running a million miles per second. She wasn’t on guard. She wasn’t FEDRA’s child soldier. She was just Piper, and next to her was just Joel and Ellie. They were happy, but what disturbed Piper the most wasn’t that she was delighted; she felt like she had found a home. This was her dream. Joel, Ellie, and her are safe, happy, and together at home.

But dreams do not last forever; before she knew it, the steel walls around her mind built up again. Her thoughts turned back to themes of violence and survival. She woke up and joined the war once more.

“Piper,” Ellie whispered when she saw her sister wake up. If it hadn’t been for Ellie’s hands holding Piper’s shoulders, the young teen would have collided with her sister.

“Ellie? What’s…” Piper followed Ellie’s worried gaze to a man standing behind her.

Forcing Ellie’s hands off her, Piper sat up and faced the man. He raised his gun and warned her not to make any sudden movements, or he’d shoot. Piper’s eyes grew cold as her instincts kicked in. The man, whoever he was, was nervous. His hands shook as he directed the gun at Piper. In any other scenario, she’d attack him then and there. However, there was another in the room. A kid, whom Piper thought to be about six or seven years old, held a gun at Joel.

“Els, wake up, Joel,” Piper calmly said as her eyes never left the gun before her. Her chin slowly jutted up as a sign of her cautiousness.

“Joel, wake up,” Ellie said. He lay sleeping. “Joel.” No response. “Joel!” Ellie yelled and grabbed onto the man’s jacket, shaking him awake. It was then Joel finally began to stir.

“Joel,” Ellie’s lips parted in relief as she saw the old man rise. Joel blinked his eyes slowly, with the fog of sleep still on his mind. Once his dark orbs landed on the silver metallic shine of a gun, his muscles tensed.

“Eyes on me,” the man said to Joel. “Eyes on me. You don't have to worry about what to say. We don't wanna hurt you. We wanna help you.”

Joel raised a brow at the man, and Piper held back a scoff. He wet his lips as he awaited the young man’s following words.

“Okay. Okay, um… I don't know what the next step is with something like this, but if I lower my gun… we didn't hurt you… so you don't hurt us… right?” The man’s gun lowered slightly.

“That's right,” Joel said. The words left his mouth too soon to convey genuity.

“That's a weird fսck¡n' tone, man,” the man with the gun said. His hands began to clam up, and his knuckles turned three shades lighter. If they gripped the pistol even tighter, Ellie was sure that lights where the man’s knuckles were would illuminate the room.

A gasp left Ellie’s mouth when the gun inched closer to Piper’s temple. Her sister, however, didn’t flinch. “That's just the way he sounds. He has an asshоlе voice. Joel, tell him he's okay,” Ellie begged.

Joel glanced at Piper and Ellie and then back at the man. “Everything is great.”

“Dude,” Ellie hissed with desperation.

The man’s movements were becoming more frantic, and Piper knew they’d probably all be dead if she didn't pounce. “Fսck! Okay… listen… I'm gonna trust you,” the gun lowered to his side, and Piper’s shoulders relaxed. ”Yes. But if either of you guys try anything…” he raised the gun again, alerting Piper. “Yeah? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded.

Briefly, Piper peered over at Joel. Her eyes communicated her distrust in the situation; however, Joel’s warm eyes gave her a sense of ease. They would see where this went, and if things went wrong, they’d fight.

“Can I sit up?” Joel asked. His eyes darted between the older guy and the kid.

“Yeah. Slow. Get up slow,” the man instructed Joel before looking at the kid beside him.

“Who are you?” was the next question Joel asked.

“My name's Henry,” he introduced before pointing to the younger kid beside him. “That's my brother, Sam. I'm the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now…” Henry’s eyes scanned the three of them. “My guess is you're running a close second.”

Joel’s brow tensed. It was a subtle change that only Piper and Ellie picked up on. To Henry and Sam, he was still the man glaring at them.

“So��” Henry muttered, “truce?” Henry held out his hand as if Joel was going to shake it. Joel did no such thing. Instead, Joel’s posture tensed as Henry’s dark hand waved in front of Joel. Henry’s lips drew into a tight line before directing his hand at Piper. He got no response from her. However, Ellie stood up and grabbed Henry’s hand, agreeing on a truce for her two stubborn guardians.

“Truce,” Ellie mumbled before plopping back down and reaching into her bag to cover up the shaking in her knees. In the next moment, her hands were full of food. She tossed some to Henry and Sam.

“Where'd you get these?” Henry asked. His mouth began to water at the sight of the stale sandwich.

“From Bill,” Ellie replied, digging into her sandwich. “He's dead.” Feeling Piper's irked stare, Ellie rolled her eyes as she shoved a sandwich into Piper’s hand. The older teen’s stomach rumbled, betraying her cold stature. Reluctantly, Piper began to eat, slowly cueing Joel to partake in the meal.

Once they were all eating, Sam turned to his brother. His little hands twirled and waved, fingers bending and straightening to create symbols. Henry’s eyes followed his brother’s movements as everyone’s confusion grew.

“He says thank you,” Henry translated. He nodded as he gazed down at the food. “I'm guessing you don't have much, so… this means a lot,” he smiled.

Ellie grew curious, looking at the younger boy. His hand movements only intrigued her. It appeared to be a secret language. Her mind began to whirl with thoughts on creating her secret language with Piper and how cool it would be to torment Joel. “How old is he?” Ellie asked.

Henry placed down his sandwich and created some hand movements to communicate with Sam. The young boy nodded and replied. “He's eight,” Henry noted.

“Cool,” Ellie beamed as her eyes squinted, trying to interpret the language. “I'm Ellie!” She watched as Henry relayed the information back to Sam, trying to copy the signs subtly. Still, they were over before she could move her fingers in the correct position. Sighing in defeat, Ellie peered over at her sister.

The muscles in Piper’s jaw clenched so tight that Ellie thought she could throw a piece of coal between her teeth and find a diamond in five minutes. Quickly nudging her sister, Ellie saw Piper’s jaw unclench as her older sister flashed her a look of annoyance.

“You gonna introduce yourself?” Ellie asked, placing all her body weight on Piper’s side, nearly knocking the teen over.

Piper’s arm ached from the sudden force, and it took everything in her not to wince at the recent pain from the bullet’s trace on her arm. Quickly, Piper angled her shoulder to shove Ellie's offer before sending her another look that said she wasn’t planning on saying anything soon. Ellie huffed, the sound mixing a laugh and a sigh of disappointment.

“That’s Piper. My sister,” Ellie said, pointing to Piper. Piper whipped her head to Ellie. The tension in her jaw returned, and her eyes burned with the offense of being betrayed by her sister. Her internal vow of silence broke.

“Ellie!” Piper hissed.

“What? That’s your name unless you want to go by Annie Reaction,” Ellie replied.

“Fucking hell,” Piper cursed. “Of course you–”

“Jesus, you two stop it,” Joel grumbled. The girls grew silent. Meanwhile, Henry felt a wave of awkwardness grow between the group. Being a witness to the scolding of others was always strange, and he was unsure if he should disappear or contribute to the conversation.

“I'm Joel.” Joel scrunched up the wrapper holding his food and shoved it back into his backpack. He linked his fingers together and placed his gaze on Henry and Sam. “Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other; let's call this a win-win and move on.”

Henry’s face paled. Piper wanted to scoff at the young man. He had no clue how to deal with situations like this. “Well, I'm betting…,” Henry said, gathering his thoughts. “…That y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up, I'll show you one.”

Joel leaned back. His dark eyes scanned Henry’s for any sense of a lie. He found none in the young man’s honest demeanor. He glanced over to Piper, who had come to the same conclusion. Henry was right. They needed to escape the death trap of a city, and he just offered them their salvation.

꧁_____꧂

“Welcome to Killa City,” Henry announced as his arms parted to the panoramic view of the city that the building provided.

The view was not much compared to the sights Piper had already seen. It was a city. Buildings were crumbling and rotting underneath the strain of time and neglect. Dust was everywhere, placing the city in a tinted haze. As the young teen’s eyes scanned the view, she saw what had drawn Joel’s attention: the center of black in the middle of the city. The center was even worse if the rest of Kansas City had seemed barren. It was torched, leaving everything a charcoal-like color—a midnight graveyard. The sight made Piper shudder.

Joel was grateful he didn’t have to crane his neck to look outside the window. His back, neck, and other muscles were stiff and sore. They refused to move properly. It was another sign Joel was getting old. He let Piper fall asleep on his shoulder as they were sitting guard, and now his body was paying the consequences. Not that Joel minded providing a stable shoulder for the young teen to rest her head on, even if she was adamant about staying awake with him. The thought of Piper’s stubbornness almost made Joel chuckle if it weren’t for the scorched center of the city.

“No FEDRA,” Joel muttered. The view of the city did little to ease the knot of nerves growing in the pit of his stomach. These were the people they were hiding from, who set the Kansas City QZ ablaze. Who knows what else these bastards did and are capable of?

Henry nodded as he spotted what Joel was eyeing. It was the old QZ, burned to the ground. “Not as of ten days ago, no,” Henry confirmed.

There was a shuffling behind the two men as Piper leaned back onto the table in what was supposed to be a conference room. “We always heard KC FEDRA was…,” Piper began. Her voice was soft and almost indecipherable from the noises caused by Ellie and Sam.

“Monsters? Savages?” Henry finished. His wide eyes glanced back at Piper as he answered her. His dark pools reflected the horror and fires that set ablaze ten days ago, and she forced herself to look away. “Yeah, you heard right. Raped and tortured and murdered people for 20 years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you're not FEDRA,” Joel noted as he looked Henry up and down. Joel knew what FEDRA looked like, and Henry, well, he was in no way the FEDRA image.

Henry’s eyes glanced down, and his shoulders slightly caved in as if making himself physically smaller would help lessen the blow of his following words. “No…,” Henry shook his head, “worse. I'm a collaborator.”

Piper and Joel’s eyes widened at Henry’s confession.

“I don't work with rats,” Joel spat. His brows were furrowed, and eyes narrowed in on Henry.

Upon hearing Joel’s words, Piper felt her stomach churn. Her feet stepped back from the conversation as her arms defensively crossed over her torso. Joel didn’t know she was one of them, that she was FEDRA and had been for years. Suppose he was this pissed off at Henry working with them; who knows what he would do to her. She gulped, and her eyes blinked rapidly as she turned away from Joel, an action that did not go unnoticed by the man.

“Yeah, you fսck¡ng do. Today you do… 'cause I live here and you don't,” Henry hissed. “That's how I followed you here. I know this city, and that's how I'm gonna help you get out.”

A vein bulged in the middle of Joel’s forehead, deepening his wrinkles. “Why help us?” Joel asked.

“I saw what you did… the way you killed those men,” Henry mumbled. His voice was quiet as if he didn’t want the kids to overhear him. “Now, I know where to go, but I don't know how to make it through alive, not if it's just me and Sam.” Henry glanced behind to look at his brother, who was smiling as Ellie scribbled on his scratch pad.

“You seem capable enough,” Joel noted. “You're armed.”

Henry’s body shook in disagreement. “You're wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at you was the closest I've ever come to being violent.” He let out a nervous chuckle at his admission. “So that's the deal. I show the way… you clear the way.”

Suddenly, a burst of light laughter filled the arm, drawing the attention of Joel, Henry, and Piper. It was Ellie and Sam. They were in a fit of giggles at something one of them had said. Henry’s anxious expression gave way to a soft smile. The creases on Joel’s face relaxed, and Piper’s arms unfolded themselves, resting at her sides.

“Haven't heard that in a long time,” Henry muttered. Piper nodded. It had been a while since Ellie had laughed like that. How long had it been since she laughed like that? Yeah, she played along with Ellie’s antics, resulting in a giggle here or there, but it was a real laugh where her chest tightened because she could no longer breathe. A real laugh where her eyes watered, and the sound no longer became aesthetically pleasing to the ear. If it was a laugh like that, then Piper hadn’t laughed in a long time. She thought back to last night. Joel had almost made her laugh like that. Piper’s chest clammed up on her heart and lungs, making it hard to breathe. She was getting weak. She was letting Joel in.

“So how are we gettin' out?” Joel questioned, his reluctance destroyed by the children’s laughter.

Knocking on the table, Henry got Sam’s attention, and with a few signs, a paper and crayon were placed in front of the three of them. “Highways…,” Henry took the crayon and began to sketch on the paper. “Downtown. Us. This whole area belongs to Kathleen.” He pointed out each area.

“She's in charge?” Joel asked.

Henry nodded. There was a fear in his eyes when he mentioned Kathleen. “Leader of the resistance. You can see the way highways bound us. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?”

As Henry explained, Joel glanced over to Piper. She was oddly quiet. Yes, Ellie was the more vocal and talkative of them, but even so, Piper would chime in and comment here or there. Now, it appeared as if Piper wasn’t even breathing.

Again, Henry pounded on the table. The vibrations reached Sam. Some more signs were exchanged, and then Sam began to write. Joel tilted his head like a dog trying to understand the English language. The scribbling stopped, and Sam held up his pad. “Tunnels,” it wrote. Ellie peered over Sam’s shoulder to look at the answer.

“Boom.” Henry made an explosion with his hands to emphasize his point.

Joel’s confusion only grew. “Kansas City has a subway?”

“No,” Henry elaborated, “but they have maintenance tunnels. There's a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” His finger pointed to a square on his drawing, representing a nearby building. “So we enter the tunnels here… travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential. There's an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, a pedestrian bridge over the river… free as a bird.” He smiled and peered up at Joel and Piper.

“You're right. It's a great plan,” Joel agreed, and Henry’s smile grew. “So, what do you need me for?” The smile was gone.

Sighing, Henry began to tap the tabletop with his fingers. “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange sh¡t you've already seen?”

Piper broke her silence. “No Infected.”

“Oh, there's Infected,” Henry explained. Joel and Piper realized that they didn’t like where this answer was going. “Just not on the surface. FEDRA drove them underground 15 years ago and never let them come back up. It's the only good thing those fascist mοthеrfսckеrs ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel full of Infected?” Piper was already shaking her head at the idea.

“Everyone thinks it's full of Infected, including Kathleen,” Henry said. “Which means that we're not going to be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is… it's empty.”

“You've been down there?” Joel interrogated. He was with Piper on this. They’d have better chances of taking the alive humans than a horde of Infected underground.

“…No,” Henry hesitantly said, “but the FEDRA guy I worked with told me that it's clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Piper asked.

“Like… three years ago,” Henry replied.

Piper scoffed, and Joel began to step away from Henry. “Three years ago is a long time,” Joel noted.

“Okay, maybe,” Henry yelped, reaching out to the two of them to hold their attention. “There's one or two, but you handle it.”

“What if there's more?” Joel asked.

“Or one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Ellie interjected from the other end of the room where she and Sam sat.

Henry’s eyes widened with shock. “Wait, you… you ran into a Clicker?”

“Two of 'em,” Piper muttered. The mention of the clickers made the bite mark on her arm burn. She raised a hand to soothe the phantom pain.

Henry’s shoulders rolled back. “And you're still alive. You see? You're the right people. If it gets bad down there, we turn around and run back out the same way we came.”

“Oh, that's your great plan?” Joel sarcastically said.

“No,” Henry spat. “That's my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I can tell… it's our only shot.”

A dull thud came from the table. Sam had his fist on the wood, waiting for their attention. He waved his hands around as Henry’s eyes carefully observed. “They're saying they're going to help us escape,” Henry said as he signed back to Sam. Ellie smiled at Henry’s words and playfully nudged Sam’s shoulder, asking him to continue their conversation via the scratchboard.

“You’re gonna help us, right?” Henry said, lowering his hands and praying that his words reached Joel.

“Joel?” Piper whispered, waiting for his answer. She knew Henry was all they had right now, and she couldn’t say no. Not when Ellie had a friend. Not when Ellie was smiling and laughing like she did before Riley died, before all this shit that has happened to them. This was how Ellie was supposed to be, not that Piper had her Ellie back; she was determined to keep it that way. Joel’s brown eyes looked down at Piper. Her eyes glowed with an eagerness that tugged at Joel’s heart. He knew he couldn’t say no, just like he couldn’t brush Piper off his shoulder the night before. As Joel agreed to the dicey-as-fuck plan, he couldn’t help but feel like a tiny sliver of the man he was before the Outbreak returned.

꧁_____꧂

They were running again. With the addition of two bodies, the group darted between garbage containers and squeezed between alleys, ducking low whenever necessary. The old bank building wasn’t far from where they had sought shelter before, but not far; it still seemed like a lifetime away as Kathleen’s men scoured the street, hunting them down.

It had felt like years had passed by the time they all had reached the bank. The interior of the building did little to conceal the five fugitives. Windows that were untainted by the dust allowed crystal clear visibility both ways, boxed in on the ground floor. Piper’s stomach hurled at the thought of being vulnerable from all sides. Her eyes twirled around frantically, looking for some possible escape for cover. Ellie clenched her hands, burying her nails into her palms. Piper’s worried expression only added to her own. Ellie trusted Piper’s gut instincts more than anything in the world, and if Piper was on guard, then something was not right.

“We need to get outta sight,” Joel harshly muttered to Henry. He sensed the girl’s unease. It was a mutual feeling.

“Uh… I,” Henry turned around, scanning the open floor. “I-I think it's this way.” His long legs quickly led the others to a set of stairs. Once the windows were exchanged for solid concrete walls, Piper felt slightly more at ease.

They descended the stairs. Their hurried footsteps clambered over each other, creating a loud noise. A large steel door with “Exit” written on it appeared. Henry was the one who pushed the door open, revealing a parking garage. A cool air hit the group, sending shivers down their bodies from the temperature change.

“Jesus, it’s cold,” Ellie shivered.

Piper glanced towards her sister before quickly shrugging off her jacket and handing it to Ellie. “Take it,” Piper insisted, and Ellie did. Piper wasn’t cold. She couldn’t be when her heart was running a million miles, pumping adrenaline into her veins.

“This should be it,” Henry announced as they approached another steel door. The labeling on this door was too faded to read. “You ready?” Henry asked Joel.

Joel’s unwavering eyes scanned the door in front of them. “Girl’s,” this caught Piper and Ellie’s attention. “Get your guns out,” Joel instructed them.

They didn’t need to be told twice to retrieve the weapons and flashlights. Henry eyed the guns but decided not to give them a second glance as he reached for the door handle and swung it open. Joel entered first. His flashlight and gun were in hand as he scanned the area. Next were Piper and Ellie with their respective guns and lights. There was nothing except water dripping as the droplets echoed throughout the tunnel.

“You see? It's empty! The plan is good,” Henry cheered.

Ellie, Piper, and Joel all winced at Henry’s volume. “Shh,” they all hissed at Henry, and his face faltered.

"The plan is good? We've been down here two seconds. We don't know anything,” Joel spat.

Henry bit the inside of his cheek. The tunnels were clear; anyone could see that. “Your dad's a pessimist,” he whispered to Piper and Ellie.

“He's not my dad,” they instantly replied.

“I'm not their dad,” Joel said simultaneously. They all glared at Henry for even suggesting such a thing. Henry’s eyes widened as he raised his hands, suggesting his regret in implying anything. “Just point your lights forward… and be ready to run,” he told the group.

Slowly, Joel turned around to face the long tunnel ahead of them. He waited for a few more moments. His mind was ready for sudden movements and the sounds of screeches and clicks. Nothing came, so he took a step forward and then another. The rest of the group followed behind him.

When Henry mentioned tunnels, Ellie thought there would be many twists, turns, and dead ends, like the mazes and labyrinths she had read about in some of her comics. However, these tunnels were straight and covered with many different pipes. “Tunnels” wasn’t even the right word; he should have said tunnel because there had only been one so far. There were no turns, dead ends, or monsters in the middle of the maze. Ellie was glad about the no monsters part. She could live without seeing another infected for the rest of her life. The no turns or dead ends were a buzzkill. Only so long could one walk straight before they started to think they were crazy. Luckily, she wasn’t the only one who thought so. Sam had been writing to her. They conversed via the scratchboard and imagined what it would be like if the tunnels were like those in the comics. The two talked about the rats that occasionally scurry between their feet or the few turns the tunnel now had. Ellie noted how much broader the tunnel was getting. The ceilings grew up a few feet, and she was sure they all could walk side by side with how far apart the walls were.

Soon, Joel’s pace began to slow, bringing the pace of everyone else behind him to a halt. There was another turn in the tunnel. This time, it led to a tiny hallway that, if Ellie reached out her arms, she could be touching both sides. It was darker than the rest of the tunnel and made her and Sam forget about the latest topic of debate on the scratchboard. The tunnel continued like before, but the claustrophobic enclosure gave way to a vast opening. The group stilled and stared. Something had caught their attention.

“Whoa,” Ellie gasped as she flashed her light around to look at the walls. They were covered in drawings of rainbows, flowers, children playing, and there was even a castle. The colors illuminated underneath the flashlights’ glow.

“Does anyone else think this is fucking creepy?” Piper whispered to the group. Something about the vibrant colors and the plastered smiling faces drawn onto the wall by children unnerved her. She grimaced as goosebumps formed on her arms, and she now regretted giving Ellie her jacket.

Sam was amazed at the bright colors and art. It reminded him of the pictures he made with Henry on the walls of their confined make-shift home a few days ago. In front of Sam was the door to the castle. He smiled and reached out a hand to open it.

“No,” Joel quietly said as he shook his head and pulled Sam away before taking his place and opening the door. Together, they all winced as a bright light blinded their view. There was light in this underground bunker.

One by one, the group scattered about the room. The walls had the same sort of drawings present in the tunnel before. Buckets of toys and books were lined up against the walls. On the far end of the room was a large drawing of a goal with the word “GOAL” written in all caps. On the other end was a kitchen filled with pots and pans.

“I heard about places like this,” Joel commented. “People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

Piper’s eyes caught sight of a giant whiteboard on one of the walls. Pieces of paper with children's drawings were taped alongside the “house rules.” Her dark eyes read down the list, her mood souring. It felt like she was invading a grave and was not welcome.

“What happened to them?” Ellie asked.

Piper peered closer at one of the pictures on the whiteboard labeled “our protectors.”

“Maybe they didn't follow the rules, and they all got infected,” Joel replied.

“Mm,” Ellie hummed before dropping her sack on the ground and picking up a toy car. She whirled it around the air and then dropped it on the table before Sam. They shared a mutual smile.

Suddenly, Sam reached the ground and picked up a worn copy of a comic. He began to flip through the pictures before Ellie burst with excitement.

“No way! I love these,” she exclaimed. Sam just nodded his head and smiled. Realizing her mistake, Ellie shook her hands in the air as if she was writing on paper. Sam understood and handed her his scratchboard. “I have issues… four, five, six, 11,” she wrote.

Sam replied with the issues he had.

“Ah. So cool,” Ellie replied. Leaning close to Sam, she slowly said, "To the edge of the universe…and back. Endure and survive." It was the signature catchphrase from the comics. Sam’s brow furrowed as he tried to read the young girl's lips. Gradually he started to sign along, understanding what she was trying to say.

“Endure,” Ellie muttered as she copied Sam’s sign for the word. “Survive. Endure. Survive.” Ellie was now doing the signs as Sam had taught her. “fսck yeah, man!” She raised her hand to give Sam a high-five. Once their hands collided, they giggled.

“Hey, keep it down. We're not out yet,” Joel reprimanded the young teen.

Ellie rolled her head back in disappointment. “Ah, c'mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There's, like, actually sh¡t to do here.”

“Wouldn't be so bad to wait the light out a bit,” Henry commented. Safer in shadows when we pop back out on the other side.”

Ellie’s eager eyes glanced over to Joel, who bit his lip. He looked over to Piper, who couldn’t care less if they stayed a while, before shrugging his shoulders and finding a comfortable place to sit down.

“Yes!” Ellie cheered before dragging Sam along to the painted soccer goal to play some ball. The two passed the ball between each other as a warm-up until they were ready to start playing. Ellie began to shoot into the goal. With one swift kick, the ball went into the goal.

“Let’s go! Come on! Yeah!” Ellie raised her hands triumphantly in the air. “Come on. Pass it back,” she motioned to Sam.

A few feet away sat Joel and Henry. They were situated around what Joel thought to be the meal table. He watched as Ellie and Sam passed the ball back and forth. It reminded him of…No, he wouldn’t let himself remember. Instead, he turned his sights toward Piper. It took him a moment to find her, but she was in one of the far corners of the room. Her back leaned against the wall as her eyes followed the ball as it was passed back and forth. Joel saw Piper grow smaller at the sounds of her sister’s laughter. Her lips drew into a tight line. She looked confused and uncomfortable as her eyes withdrew from Ellie and Sam. Piper looked at the shelves filled with books; her brows furrowed as her eyes glanced over the titles and authors of each book. Joel couldn’t help but think that Piper should be playing with Ellie and Sam. Yes, she was older than them, but Piper was still a kid. Kids loved to have fun, and soccer was fun. Especially the way Ellie and Sam seemed to be playing it. Yet Piper sat with her legs drawn into her chest, trying to, well, Joel wasn’t quite sure what she was trying to do. All he knew was that she wanted no part in the play.

A soft chuckle came from beside Joel. It was Henry. From the corner of his eye, he saw Henry smiling as his brother played.

“If you were collaboratin' to take care of him, I… I shouldn't have said what I said. I don't know your situation. And I'm not sayin' they should let it go, but…,'' Joel began his attempt at apologizing.

“Ah, that was awesome!” Ellie beamed as Sam made his own goal on the post.

Joel’s eye flitted back to Henry. “all things considered, seems kinda cruel…To send a whole army after you for that.”

“You know, I wasn't, uh… exactly telling you the truth before…,” Henry confessed, causing Joel to raise his brow. “About me not killing someone. There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid… never selfish… and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kinda man you'd follow anywhere. I mean, I wanted to. Well… I would've. Yeah, but, uh, Sam, he, uh… he got sick. Leukemia.”

Joel’s eyes glanced towards the ground as he felt his heart hurt.

“Yeah, anyway, um… there was one drսg that worked, and, whoa… big shock… there wasn't much left of it, and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some… it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen's brother,” Henry said. He cautiously looked over to Joel. “Yeah, so, you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?” Joel shrugged as he thought of an answer. “I don't know what you're waitin' on, man. The answer's easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing. But you get it, though. You might not be their father… but you were someone's.” Joel’s jaw clenched at Henry’s words. “See, I could tell,” Henry muttered.

A loud, playful roar erupted from Ellie’s mouth as she chased Sam around the room. The game of soccer was forgotten. The two of them darted past Joel and Henry, and as the wind from the children’s speed blew past them, Joel’s reflective daze was broken.

“We've waited long enough,” Joel muttered, snatching his flashlight and gun as he stood up.

꧁_____꧂

Ellie was trying her darndest not to laugh, but with how Piper’s sleeping face twitched as she dragged the felt tip marker across it, Ellie couldn’t help but giggle. Come on, it was peak comedy for the eight-year-old. Her masterpiece was almost done. All she needed to do was draw on the final touches. Then Piper’s nose scrunched. Her head jostled, ruining Ellie’s perfect line as Piper’s movement dragged the marker across her face. Ellie quickly pulled the marker back from Piper’s face as her sister raised a hand to wipe away the midday nap from her face.

“Els?” Piper groaned as she arose from her slumber.

Quickly stuffing the marker in her pocket, Ellie smiled innocently at her sister. “Good afternoon, shithead.”

Piper rolled her eyes. “Ellie, what did I say about swear words…”

“Only use them when necessary,” she sighed.

“Good.” Piper sat up and glanced back at Ellie. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Piper asked quizzically.

Ellie’s face faltered as she tried to cover up her smug smile. “Looking at you like what?”

“Like…like you’ve–what did you do?” Piper’s brow raised, and her eyes grew serious.

A red tint appeared on Ellie’s face as she scooted back and began to reach for the bunk bed railing to help her stand up. “Nothing. I swear on my fucking life.”

“Ellie,” Piper said, disappointed.

“What, you not believing me is a good reason to swear,” Ellie noted.

Piper rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she smiled.

“See, I told you that–”

“Ah ha!” Piper exclaimed as she snatched the marker hidden in Ellie’s pocket.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Ellie cried out as she tried to grab her marker from her sister’s hands.

Waving the marker in the air, Piper smirked. “What exactly were you doing with this marker?”

“Uh…drawing. Duh,” Ellie said. It wasn’t a lie so that Piper would believe her. Ellie hated how Piper could always tell when she was lying. She was trying to get better at it. Riley was even helping her here and there, giving her pointers. Which all worked on the FEDRA teachers, but still, not one had worked on Piper. She was just too good. Ellie couldn’t believe it. Piper was eleven and reading her like she was a book. It wasn’t fair.

“…Okay,” Piper sighed. “I believe you.”

Ellie smiled. Half-truths may be the way to go with Piper.

“What were you drawing?” Piper asked.

Ellie’s face fell. She was screwed. “Um…something. It’s a surprise.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What?! I’m serious. I’ve been working really hard on it,” Ellie whined. She had been. Piper had been asleep for about an hour, giving Ellie ample time to plan her artistic masterpiece. About twenty minutes of the hour were dedicated to putting her idea to work. Twenty minutes was a long time. It was far more time than she had ever put into a work of art.

Piper raised her brow, and her eyes were full of skepticism. “You serious?” Ellie frantically nodded, and Piper sighed. “Alright, but you’ve got to show it to me when you’re done. ‘Kay?”

“Totally,” Ellie snickered.

There was something in the way Ellie stood in front of her with her hands fiddling with her shirt that tipped Piper the wrong way, but she chose to believe Ellie, giving her the benefit of the doubt. “Well, we’ve got to get to the dining hall,” Piper said, shrugging the sleep off and pulling on her shoes. They were worn to the sole, and the heel would have fallen off by now if it weren’t for the duct tape holding it together. She’d have to get new shoes soon. Maybe Levi would have some for her, Piper thought.

Feeling tiny static hairs at the back of her neck, Piper headed for the mirror to fix her bedhead. Ellie saw her sister’s trajectory and darted to the door of their room. It flung open with not much force, and Ellie entered the hallway. “Race you there, Pipes!”

Piper chuckled at Ellie’s antics. It only fired her will to beat Ellie to the dining hall. Hurriedly, she glanced in the mirror. She froze. Her hair was fine. It was hardly amiss. That was not what was wrong. Looking in the mirror, Piper saw Ellie’s masterpiece. All over her face were little squiggles and drawings. Some were hearts and stars, and even a mustache tinted bright pink. The cherry on top was the crooked lettering that spelled “Dummy.”

By the time the two girls showed up in the dining hall, they both were adorning the loving title of “dummy” on their foreheads.

꧁_____꧂

A chilly night air blew over the group as they emerged from the tunnels. Henry was right, there were no infected. Joel eyed the young man as he smugly led the group through the neighborhood.

“Do you know where we are?” Joel questioned. He eyed the abandoned homes. Their windows held the ghosts of a time before the outbreak. They stared as he walked along the once clean paved streets and litter-free sidewalks. His spine pricked as the eyes of the past washed over him.

“Yep. The other side.” Henry looked back at Joel and slightly snorted. “No. No one is here. No one's gonna be here because…,” Henry turned humbly and triumphantly shrugged his shoulders. “My plan worked.”

“So much goddamn talkin',” Joel groaned.

“I'm just saying I delivered. Make this right, go down the street, embankment behind the last house, and we're out,” Henry said.

They were almost out. Ellie softly smiled and peered to her side where Sam strolled. They were almost out, and she’d have to say goodbye to her new friend. Biting her lip, she thought of an idea; maybe she didn’t have to say goodbye. “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” Ellie asked.

“Don't know yet,” Henry replied.

“Well, we're goin' to Wyoming.” Joel glared at her. Piper just sighed and rubbed her arm. The pain had returned, and she worried it was infected.

“What?” She defended, “It's a huge state. It can fit two more people.”

“Yeah,” Henry solemnly nodded. He glanced at Joel in understanding. He didn’t want a few extra people, and Henry wouldn’t force the older man. He didn’t think he’d get far since their deal was just getting out of the city. “Maybe we just call this a success and say our fond farewells.”

Ellie frowned. “No, he'll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” She cleared her throat and patted her chest with a fist, preparing her vocal cords to speak lower, and in a deep voice, she said, “He's like, "No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening. And then I'm like, "I'm gonna ask you a million more times." And he's like–

A shot fires near them. A dust kicked up, and the group ducked down low. Piper gasped, grabbing the roots of her hair.

“Move, move! Go!” Joel ordered as more shots were fired. Quickly, the group huddled behind a rusted car.

“The fսck is that comin' from?” Henry hissed.

“Shut up,” Joel spat as he peeked over the car's hood. His eyes narrowed. The dark wasn’t making it easier to see where the shots fired. A spot of bright light flashed from the upper window of a home. A bullet shattered a window in the car.

“fսck. Let's move. Let's go,” Henry whispered before he grabbed Sam’s hand and began to run the way they had come.

“What are you doin'?!” Joel yelled.

“Gettin' the fսck outta here!” Henry replied. A shot fired in front of them. “Oh sh¡t, oh sh¡t!” Darting back to the safety of the car, Henry turned to Joel. “What do we do?”

Piper nodded her head, wanting to hear what the plan was. Her gun felt heavy in her hand. She could do that. She could find the guy and shoot him. She could hunt him down. She never missed.

“All right,” Joel breathed. He shuffled around and solved his pistol into its holder on his side. “Stay here.” He crouched down low and shifted his weight forward.

“What?” Piper and Ellie blurted.

“If you don't move, he's not gonna hit you,” Joel explained. The girls were shaking their heads. “I'm gonna go around, try to get in the house through the back, and then I'll take him out.”

“But if you go out there, he's gonna kill you,” Ellie pleaded.

“Joel, I can do it. I’m smaller and–”

“No. I’m going.” He saw the fear in the girl’s eyes. Piper’s dark eyes concealed it better, but Joel knew. “Look, it's dark, and he has sh¡t aim. Nobody's gonna kill me.” He tried his best to reassure them.

“Then he's gonna kill us,” Ellie whispered.

Joel’s chest tightened. “Do you trust me?”

The girls shared a nervous glance. Ellie reluctantly nodded. Piper bit her lip and scowled. Her nose and eyebrows scrunched together as if it pained her to say yes, but she did. In her softest voice, she said yes.

꧁_____꧂

Joel was breathing hard as the shot kept on coming. Each wisp of air as the bullets hailed down only made his heart beat faster. It was his luck that the street was littered with cars, each big enough to cover his body. However, if luck had been on Joel’s side, then someone wouldn’t have shot at them in the first place. He knew no infection in the tunnels was too good to be true. Something had to go wrong eventually, and it just happened to be right before they reached freedom from this hell hole of a city.

It was like a dance how Joel maneuvered between the cars and the occasional mailbox along the side of the street. Each time he ducked, he was one step closer to the house, to the window where the culprit was shooting from. It was the last house on the cul de sac, standing tall and brown in the dark of the night. At least, Joel was pretty sure that the house was a shade of brown, but he could be wrong. He was convinced that this whole neighborhood must have been something to see in the days before the outbreak, but now it was a war zone. Now, someone was using the home to shoot at him and the girls.

At a certain point, the shooter had stopped. Joel wasn’t sure why, but they had. Joel hoped that it was because of a lack of bullets, but his fears came true when he heard the gasps of the girls, Sam and Henry. The shooter was targeting them. He had to hurry. As he darted between the bushes and trees on the lawn of the brown house, he caught sight of the bridge. Water rushed underneath it, echoing a calming symphony of nature. They had to cross the bridge, and then they’d be free. Joel could get to Wyoming; the girls could go with the fireflies. Everything would be alright. Except now that Joel thought of it, his stomach churned.

He broke into the back of the house and climbed the stairs. Joel’s gun was raised close to his torso as he checked his corners before proceeding. He had to get this right. He had to save them, to protect them. Another shot was fired, and Joel’s heart lurched out from his throat. Joel held his breath while creeping towards the room at the end of the hall. Brushing the door to the side, he aimed his gun at the man sitting in the chair by the window.

“Put the gun down, slide it over to me, and then stay up here for another hour,” Joel calmly said; however, nothing about him was calm. “That's all you have to do.” The man turned around and peered up at Joel. His shaking old hands changed grip on the gun as he turned around to look at the intruder. “Please don't do it. Please,” Joel begged. But the man did not listen. Another shot rang out in the air. Joel’s hand ached as he lowered the gun from the slumped-over body.

Suddenly, a static noise pierced Joel’s ears. “Anthony? Anthony? Anthony, hold them where they are. We're almost there.”

Joel’s eyes widened. “Fսck.” He clambered to the window and stuck his head out, and with a guttural desperate cry, he yelled to the girls. “RUN!”

꧁_____꧂

Ellie’s fingers fiddled with Pipers. Her smaller digits weaved around her older sisters. Each movement brought a sense of control to the young girls. They didn’t dare think about the silence after that last shot. They didn’t dare get their hopes up.

Piper’s ears twitched as she peeked out from behind the car. Joel was in the window where the shooter once was. She couldn’t help but beam at the sight, but soon her smile faltered. His arms were waving frantically at them, and he was shouting something.

“What’s he saying?” Ellie wondered as she stood next to Piper. Henry and Sam soon stood up as well. Each of them was confused at the sight until the final piece of the puzzle was placed: the sound of the revving of cars. They froze as Joel’s words now clicked.

“RUN!” He screamed.

Panic coursed through their bodies as they stood there, the ground now rumbling and the horrific roaring sound pounding in their ears. Then they ran.

“Go! Go, go, go, go!” Henry shouted as the group darted from behind the car and towards the house, towards Joel. Soon, their shadows stood tall in front of them. The light behind them grew brighter. Ellie cried out in fear as she turned around with her gun in hand to shoot. She hadn’t expected the car to be so close. She couldn’t see anything, yet her legs kept running. She raised her gun and shot. It missed. She fired the weapon until it was empty. The car was closer. She was going to get run over. Another shot rang out, and the car swerved off the road into one of the wooden houses on the side. Whipping her head around, she saw Joel in the window with a rifle. He had made that shot. He had protected them.

“Ellie!” Piper gasped as she ran back for her sister in the chaos of the crash. Ellie hadn’t even realized her legs had given out. “You okay?”

Ellie’s head nodded in a jagged motion before her lungs could produce enough air for a singular word. “Yeah.” With confirmation, Piper dragged Ellie over to where Henry and Sam hid. The four of them ducked down behind a nearby car as the street was illuminated from headlights.

“He's up there,” A voice said. “Fսck.” The voice was close. Too close for Piper’s comfort. She clenched her eyes shut and squeezed her gun. Her hands were shaking. “Two and two! Around the back, take him out!” The voice instructed. Her eyes shot open as she glanced at the house to Joel. The marching footsteps of the people faded as they approached the house at the end of the street. Piper bit her tongue until she tasted blood. Joel could handle himself. He had to.

“Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time?” It was a female voice. Ellie hated to admit it almost sounded comforting, like a mother. “No? That's all right. Doesn't matter.”

Henry glanced at Sam, Ellie, and Piper. He could do it. He had to save his brother and the others. Henry’s eyes met Pipers. She shook her head at him, and he only smiled.

“I'll come out! Just let the kids go!” Henry yelled from behind the car.

“No. Sorry,” Henry’s face paled. “The girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam's with you.”

Henry shook his head. “You don't understand, Kathleen!”

“But I do,” the woman named Kathleen smiled. Piper could hear the chilling grin in the woman’s voice. “I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?”

“He's just a fսck¡ng kid!” Henry pleaded.

“Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time,” Kathleen said. “You think the whole world revolves around him? That he's worth… everything?” Piper looked over at Ellie. “Well, this is what happens when you fսck with fate.”

“Get ready to take him and run,” Henry whispered to Ellie and Piper. Ellie shook her head. “Yes. Do it.” His eyes turned to Piper. She couldn’t bear to look at him. They were the same. They’d do anything for their little siblings, so Piper agreed. She grabbed Ellie’s hand and then Sam’s, who looked confused as his brother stood up and out of the cover of the car.

“It's time, Henry,” Kathleen said.

“Enough! Okay.” Henry had stepped out and raised his hands. With teary eyes, he looked up at Kathleen. The burning home behind her framed her as she raised her gun at Henry.

“It ends the way it ends,” She whispered. Her finger cocked back and then hovered over the trigger.

There was a crash, and dust fell over the mass. The burning house collapsed, and the ground had caved in. Wood, tires, and the car had fallen in with as the fire crackled around. A colossal explosion fired up into the air, and all fell silent. Everyone froze as a deep rumbling came from the earth below them. Piper thought it was an earthquake for a moment, but the noise told her better. It was growling. An unearthly snarl escaped the pits of the ground. After all, it’s where they were buried—the infected.

All at once, wave after wave, they climbed out of the hole. The monsters screeched as they ran to the nearest human. They were fueled by a desire to kill and to spread. A rainstorm of bullets fired as fear overcame Kathleen’s men. All thoughts of killing a group of five were forgotten. The only drive was to survive.

Screams of “No!” fell from people’s mouths as Infected leaped upon them, tearing out their throats and opening their jaws to feast on their flesh.

“Run 'em down! Run 'em down!” A voice commanded, and cars began to drive down the street, taking out groups of infected.

꧁_____꧂

From the safety of the brown home, Joel watched as hell came thundering down on the street below him. The fires spread from home to home, painting the scene as a sight from hell itself as people were carved open by the hands and teeth of the Infected. Raising the gun, he peered into the scope. His eyes moved around until he had found them. Henry had run back to the cover of the car, grabbing Sam’s hand tightly. Next to them were his girls, Piper and Ellie. He would keep them safe. They would get back to him. They would cross that bridge. Cocking the gun, he fired. The bullet lodged into the head of an Infected, who jumped on top of the car, reaching for the group.

Henry and Sam ran away from the vehicle. Piper and Ellie ran the other way. Joel followed his girl’s movements and took out each predator. No matter how they grabbed, leaped, and screeched, he would never let them touch the girls. The first few shots had startled the girls, but with a quick, grateful glance up at him, they knew who their protector was. His gun followed the girls as they ducked behind cars and raced away from the bloodied mouths of the infected. His gun kept firing, taking out the monsters, until one shot was met with silence. The barrel was empty.

Joel’s shaking hands dug around for another cartridge, for more bullets. His eyes tore away from the window to re-arm the gun. When he looked back, Piper had shoved Ellie towards a van as an Infected pounced on the girl. It knocked her to the ground and growled. Its head whipped around to the younger and prepared to jump when its body fell limp. Joel held his breath, and it only returned when Piper shoved the monstrous body off of her. She was alive. The girls exchanged some words before Piper pushed Ellie into the van. The younger girl makes it in. Joel kept firing, giving Piper more time to seek shelter when she stopped. There was a roar that shook the whole street. A towering blob of infected snarled as it stomped towards the van, towards Ellie and Piper. Joel fired at the thing, and the infected howled each time the bullets hit.

Suddenly, Piper was gone. Joel scoured the crowd to find her. The light of the fire blinded him. Muffled shots were fired, and he whirled around to find it. Piper was luring the thing away from Ellie. He watched as she opened her mouth to scream at it before shooting it once more. Its pace picked up as it charged. Joel cocked the gun once more, but it was empty. He cried out as he watched Piper scurry away. Her body was hidden from view behind two cars. It was too late. The infected raised its arms up high and roared as they came down. ꧁_____꧂

“Hurry and get in!” Piper hissed.

Ellie whined. As if she didn’t already know what was awaiting them outside the van.

“I’m trying!”

“Ellie!” Piper glanced behind herself and froze. “Ellie,” Her tone hardened.

“I’m in! Piper, come on, let’s go–”

“I can’t.”

Ellie’s brows pinched together. “What do you mean?” There it was, that sickening roar. It made Ellie shiver. As she peered through the muddied glass of the van, she gasped, although the sound was more like a scream.

“Piper!”

Her older sister glanced back at her. Piper’s dark brown eyes were glossed over as she flashed a shaking smile. “Ellie,” Piper whispered. “I need you to–”

“No!”

“Ellie! I need you to hide. Stay low and quiet. Joel will–”

“Fuck Joel,” Ellie hissed. “You’re my sister. Remember? Me and you till the end.”

Piper bit her lip and cast her eyes downward. Her hand was still holding Ellie’s, although at this point, it was more like Ellie clung to her sister.

“Yea, me and you. So you’ve gotta keep goin’. I’ll live on with you. Just get out of here.”

Ellie was crying now. “No, Piper, no!” But it was no use. Piper had yanked her hand away from Ellie. Her sister’s screams challenged the Infected as her shots drew it away. Away from Ellie. “PIPER!!” Ellie cried as her eyes trailed her sister’s movements.

Piper’s sights were on the monster. The firelight illuminated the tears on her dirtied face like stars in the night sky. Ellie banged at the van window, slowly moving her body to keep her sights on Piper. The monster roared at Piper, and Ellie shrieked as Piper’s back hit two cars. The trucks caged Piper in, leaving her no room for escape as the Infected hunted her.

The Infected was mere feet from Piper. She had nowhere to run. Ellie wailed and screamed as she banged against the van. Piper’s name kept falling from her bloodied lips. As the monster raised its arms, Ellie watched Piper turn her head to the side. Their eyes met in a weak attempt to say goodbye. After that, Ellie could only hear the never-ending screams and sobs that were squeezed out of her lungs.

It was these cries for her dead sister that drew in a hunter. The tiny Infected clicked and screeched as its ears attuned for fear were lured in. Ellie gasped as the monster’s body twisted like a spider. The van rattled with the newest edition. That little huff of air sealed her fate, and the Infected lunged. Ellie cried out in terror as the infected struggled to climb over the mountain of seats to reach her. In the front of the car, Ellie used her legs to kick open the passenger side door of the van. With one powerful kick, the door swung open. Ellie fell out of the van and slammed the door behind her. The Infected shrieked, and its claw-like nails scratched at the window.

From behind her, a familiar voice yelped. “Get it off!” Henry yelled as his legs frantically kicked a snarling Infected away. Sam was beside whimpering as a second Infected was reaching for him. Ellie wiped away her tears and scrambled over to the monsters. Her pocket knife was in her hand as she stabbed the infected, grabbing Henry. A shot rang out as Joel took care of the one attacking Sam. Her hands reached out to take hold of Sam’s and Henry’s before pulling them up when all she wanted to do was crumble to the ground and cry.

“Thanks,” Henry said. “Hey, where’s Piper–”

“Gone,” Ellie said. Henry’s eyes filled with pity, but Ellie didn’t want his pity. An Infected screamed and jumped towards them before Joel shot it down. “Come on, come on!” Ellie waved her hands for Henry and Sam to follow. “Go, go!” She yelled as they made their way to the house at the end of the street.

Joe stood outside on the lawn. His gun was aimed to shoot any approaching Infected. Upon seeing Joel, Ellie let go of Henry and Sam’s hand and ran to him. His somber eyes only made her cry as she clung to his coat. Henry and Sam stilled at the sight. Joel lowered his gun and patted Ellie’s head. His words wouldn’t do anything for her. He knew that. His eyes met Henry and Sam, who shared the same solemn look.

“Stop!” A sheer voice cried out. The group whirled around and found Kathleen. Her gun was raised and aimed towards Henry. Joel’s grip on Ellie tightened. Kathleen chuckled. “You think you’ll get awa–”

Blood spattered on their faces as a bullet lodged in Kathleen’s head. The woman’s body fell limp, collapsing to the ground in a pile of sprinkling blood. Behind the deceased stood a trembling figure. Blood, ash, and dirt covered their body from head to toe, almost making them unrecognizable. Their dark eyes glistened as the weapon lowered to their side.

“Pipes?” Ellie whispered.

꧁_____꧂

It was black. Piper’s mind was constantly replaying her last few moments. Her desperate goodbye to Ellie as she ran away, shooting at the monster. Each shot hit. She’d never miss, not when it counted. She only wished Ellie could get away, that Joel would protect her.

Piper was expecting death to hurt a lot more. She had seen how the monster after her had torn off a man’s head before doing the same to the rest of his body, but nothing came.

The terrors that were occurring on the street still reached her ears. The pleading screams of men and women as they were scratched open, the infected’s hand burrowing into them. Gunshots firing in a feeble attempt to save oneself. But what she heard the most was heavy breathing. It was her own. She was still breathing.

Unclenching her body, she opened her eyes. She covered her mouth to stifle the gasp that tried to flee. The infected stood before her. The two cars trapping her were demolished by the brutal force of the Infected. It stood before her; its fleshy chest heaved as it looked down. Piper was scrunched into a tight ball as she stared at the monster before her. It was watching her–the mushrooms, where eyes should be, followed her movement. She gulped. It stood still, waiting for something. A shaking breath left her lungs, and the Infected leaned down low. The potent smell of death and decay flew into Piper’s face as it snarled. She pushed herself as far as she could into the bent-up cars behind her. Her eyes widened to the size of boulders as it opened its mouth. Its teeth were rotten and covered in blood, and its throat opened up enough for her to see the tiny spiral of fungus climb out of its mouth. The thing was reaching for her. She cried out and crawled out from under the Infected. It made no motion to stop her.

Swiftly, Piper rolled underneath one of the cars and watched the Infected roar again before its thundering feet chased a new victim. As quickly as she sought shelter under the car, she rolled out. Pushing herself off the ground, she observed the horrors before her. Infected screeched and preyed after the people. Fires raged on, burning the neighborhood to the ground.

A burning sweat made Piper’s tangled hair stick to her neck and head. Her shirt was torn and bloody, and her knuckles, elbows, and knees were bloodied and tainted with bits of gravel. Choking on her breath, her feet began to move. Piper’s eyes scanned the terrors for any sight of Ellie, Joel, Henry, or Sam. An ear-splitting screech impaled her ears; Piper jumped back to find an Infected. It stared at her before turning the other way. More monster screams, and rasps were cut short as the Infected fled from the stumbling girl. She watched as these things parted the seas of torching fire, death, and rot.

She watched as hell fell down on the people who were bent on killing them. The Infected ripping them apart. She passed by men who cried out for her to save them as the monsters feasted on them. Their skin squelched as decaying teeth bit down. In her daze, Piper’s feet knocked away a pistol. The handle and barrel were drenched in blood and chunks of human flesh. Reaching down, she picked it up and wiped away the gore. The reddish handle glowed in the firelight as she caught a look at her tainted reflection in the handle. Blood trickled down her nose and mouth. Her skin was scraped, bleeding, and covered in dirt. Her eyes were cold and lifeless as her freckles disappeared under the dark of the night. Looking in the handle, she couldn’t figure out what she saw, but it wasn’t her–it wasn’t Piper.

“Go, go!” Ellie screamed. Piper’s eyes whipped around, searching for her sister. Ellie was alive. Ellie. Piper found them at the house. Henry, Sam, Joel, and Ellie. They were all there. They were safe. The weakness in her legs vanished as she ran. The sight of them was all she needed to keep going. Her family. Joel and Ellie. Her home.

꧁_____꧂

The adrenaline depleted from Joel’s system as he leaned back on the wall of the motel room. It was the least smelly of the ones on the first floor, and the carpet wasn’t as moldy as the others. The room would do for the night.

From the side room, Ellie's voice was heard as she read the comic book to Sam. "Pew. Pew. As the Raven 01 approaches the red planet.” Ellie’s finger traced the words, letting Sam know where she was. Their eyes scanned the pages of the comic book, inhaling the magical world within its pages.

Henry glanced down at his food and decided he should save the rest for later. Wrapping it up, he sighed. “You think they'll be okay?”

Joel’s ears perked up. “Yeah, I think…,” his eyes trailed off to peer into the room. “…it's easier when you're a kid anyway. You don't have anybody else relying on you. That's the hard part,” Joel said.

His words conjured up thoughts of Piper. She had it hard. She was still a kid and had to go through everything with Ellie clinging to her hand. The teen in question had been silent the entire journey to the motel, and before anyone could ask the burning question of her survival, she excused herself to go find some mattresses for them to sleep on. She mumbled something about not wanting to sleep on the sketchy green carpet.

“Well,” Henry chimed in, “I guess we're doing a good job then. Piper too.” Joel nodded. “What's that comic book say?”

"Endure and survive,” Joel repeated from memory.

"Endure and survive?” Henry cocked his brow. “That sh¡t's redundant,” he laughed.

“Yeah, it's-it's not great,” Joel agreed, and for a brief moment, a faint smile appeared on his face.

“No, it’s not, “ Henry said.

As an uncertain silence fell between the two men, Joel observed Sam and Ellie. They looked content. Two kids doing what kids do best. His heart swelled at the sight. This is how it should be, thought Joel. His dark eyes lit up with an idea. “Look, I don't know exactly how I'm gettin' to Wyoming. I'm probably walkin'. But… you know,” Joel muttered. “If you want to.”

Henry bit his lip to stop the smile from spreading. “Yeah. Yeah. Um… Yeah, I think it'd be nice for Sam to have a friend.” He nodded his head in a feverish manner to hide his excitement. “I'll tell him in the morning. New day, new start.”

Joel nodded along. It was a good idea that would be the best for the girls.

Standing up from his seat on a wooden chair that was much too stiff for his liking, Henry pointed to the room. “I’m gonna go check on them.”

“Hm?” Joel’s eyes followed Henry’s direction. “Yeah, I should–I should check on Piper. See where she’s at on the mattress situation.” Grunting, Joel pushed himself off the floor and left the room in search of Piper. Meanwhile, Henry turned back to his brother and Ellie.

"Bingo! Should we knock?” Ellie read before turning to the next page of the comic book.

“Hey,” he muttered as he knocked on the door. Ellie tapped Sam’s shoulder to let him know his brother was there. “You need sleep,” he said and signed at the same time.

Sam sighed before rolling over on the bed and tucking his legs in tight. The pink plaid blanket did little to ease the discomfort from the decades-old mattress. It smelt of things that Sam had never smelt before, but he knew he didn’t want to smell them again.

Seeing Sam tucked in for bed, Henry turned to Ellie. “You should–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ellie said. “I’m going.” She closed the comic book and placed it on the side table. Then, lying down on the bed, Ellie settled in for bed. Satisfied with the situation, Henry softly closed the door and left Ellie and Sam to sleep.

꧁_____꧂

The night air had gotten chillier the moment Joel had stepped outside. He wished he brought his jacket, but checking on Piper was a greater need. A slight tremor spread from his fingertips to the rest of his body, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed. Everything hurt, and Joel had to raise a hand to the wall to stop himself from crashing into it. Oxygen seemed to flee his lungs all because of her. Piper. The girl he thought died. He had seen it. She had been cornered with nowhere to run. The bloater was after her, and it was out for blood. He saw the cars crumple up as if they were soda cans under the force of the creature’s arms. Wincing as his breath came back to him, he heard a shuffling in a nearby room.

The room was only two rooms over from where they were, but it was still too far for Joel’s comfort. Stepping forward, his hand pushed the door open with a creak. Immediately, his eyes caught sight of the dim light of a flashlight.

“Kid?” Joel called out. He entered the room and glanced around. It was like the room they were staying in, except the ceiling had more water damage and mold. “Kid?” He repeated after hearing no response.

“ Room 4 has two mattresses in decent condition,” Piper muttered. Joel turned to find her unpacking her bag and laying out her sleeping bag. “You could drag ‘em over.”

Joel felt that same tense feeling enter his body from before as he saw her settle her things. “Kid.”

Fluffing up one of the pillows on the bed, Piper ignored Joel. Her face was still like that of a statue. Her eyes were cold and hard. Joel was sure if he reached out his hands to freeze.

“Kid, what are you doing?” Joel asked.

Piper scoffed. “What does it look like I’m doing? And I’m not a kid.” She still hadn’t looked at him.

His arm reached out, and his hand felt like it burned as he latched onto her shoulder, pulling her away to face him. “Look, I know what happened must have been–”

“Terrifying? Yeah, you could say that.” Piper bit the inside of her cheek. Her dark eyes still refused to look at Joel.

Joel held his tongue. He wasn’t sure what to say as his eyes took in Piper’s disheveled state. She looked awful, and it hurt him more than he’d like to say. “Hey, I’m trying here,” finally, she peered up at him. Her eyes glossed over. “Just…how did you–I saw that bloater–,” Joel whispered for fear she’d blow away if he spoke any louder.

“So that’s what they’re called.”

“I thought you died, kid,” Joel confessed. His eyes watered over, and his grip on her shoulder tightened.

Piper’s eyes briefly widened before she turned away, brushing Joel’s hand off her. “Wish I did,” she muttered.

“No,” Joel shook his head. “don’t say that. You don’t get to say that.”

Piper’s face tensed, and every line became visible. Her eyebrows clenched together so that they became one as the pain in her broken soul was revealed. “Then what do I get to say, Joel?! That I’m a monster! That the Infected treated me like their own! That they didn’t touch me! That they can’t! It’s because I’m like them. I’m a monster. I’m infected–”

Joel’s brows raised in confusion. “No, you’re immune. Just like Ellie.”

“No, you’re wrong,” Piper spat. “I’m nothing like Ellie. The infected still go after her. They will always go after her, trying to rip her apart, but me…? They just walk by as if I don’t exist. I’m one of them, Joel. It all makes sense. They were all after Ellie.” She tucked her arms close to her torso as she stepped away from Joel, putting too much distance between them.

“You got bit in the museum. You–”

“It was trying to bite Ellie, and my arm got in the way. Not that it mattered,” Piper explained. “I’m a monster.” Her eyes glanced down at the scarred bite mark from that day.

“No,” Joel said. He reached out to her. “You’re Piper.”

“And Piper’s a monster!” Piper sobbed. Her whole body shook as shaky breaths entered her lungs, fueling her pain.

“Kid, let's get back to the group. Ellie’s–” Joel tried to reason.

“No!” She yelled. “I’m not going anywhere near them, Joel! What if I….” Her voice grew soft and vulnerable. “What if I kill them? You said it yourself. I could still turn. Doesn’t matter if it’s days, months, or years. I could– I could go after Ellie. I could.”

Joel took a step closer to her, and Piper took one more back. Determined to keep distance. “You’re immune, kid. You’re immune, and even if you turned, you’d never hurt Ellie. I know it.”

“Bullshit,” Piper cursed as her back hit the wall of the room. Her knees crumbled underneath her, and her legs smashed against the floor.

“It’s not,” Joel comforted. “Come, kid. Let’s go.”

“I’m staying here,” Piper hissed.

“It’s not safe,” Joel pleaded.

“I’m not safe. I don’t feel safe in this skin.” She began to pick and pull at her skin. The wounds from earlier opened up, and fresh blood began to taint her skin once more. “I don’t feel safe around you or Ellie,” She choked on her sobs. “I–I should’ve died. I was supposed to die. I–”

Joel leaped forward and encased Piper in his arms. She tried to fight him. Her body twitched under his hold before the attempt to free herself stilled. “Shhh, I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair.

Slowly, her trembling hands wrapped around his arm. “I’m so tired,” she breathed.

“Sleep,” Joel said as he lifted Piper off the floor. “I’ll watch over you and make sure nothing happens.” With an arm under her legs and another supporting her back, Joel carried her out of the room.

“If something does happen?” Piper whispered. “Will you shoot me?” Joel’s throat constricted. “Joel?”

Examining the girl in his arms, Joel’s eyes held a mix of fear and sadness. He’s been here before. His memory proved to be too powerful. Pulling Piper closer, Joel sighed, “Just go to sleep, kid.”

Piper was too tired to push the subject further. It would be something unspoken between the two. Joel prayed it would stay that way, for he knew his answer. If she had asked him that question in Boston, he’d have no issue with her request. But they weren’t Boston anymore. Joel wasn’t who he was in that city. He was someone else, someone familiar. It was as if he had discovered a pair of clothes from his past and decided to give them a try once more just to see if they fit. As he held the teen in his arms, it was no surprise that it did. Those clothes would always fit so long as Joel was willing to wear them. As for Piper’s request, he could never. He would never.

꧁_____꧂

Ellie couldn’t help but smile as Henry closed the door. He let them keep the light on. Everyone knows you’ve got to turn the light out when you leave a room where kids are supposed to be sleeping. Snatching the comic book from off the table, Ellie tapped Sam on the leg. He whirled around, eyes wide, until he saw her waving the book at him. He smiled and sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed to see better. Ellie cracked open the comic book and held the pages open so that Sam could see. Her thin finger traced the word bubbles as she softly read them. Her face was animated as if she was a part of the story herself.

"I don't see any weird movements. "Stiff? Negative. Damage here in Sector 153. Stella, can you hear me? I read you. Okay, from here…” Ellie read.

Raising his pointer finger up, Ellie paused and placed the comic book down. Sam reached to his side and pulled out the scratchboard. His small hand took the pencil and began to write.

“Are you ever scared?” he asked.

Ellie read his message and grabbed the board to write her reply. “Do I not look scared?”

Sam shook his head. "Never."

Ellie’s eyes fell, and she picked up the scratchboard. “I'm scared all the time…,” she wrote.

Sam scoffed. Ellie softly smirked and continued to write.

“… of scorpions!” She flashed the scratchboard, and Sam and Sam raised a brow, unamused.

She erased her message before writing her truest fear. “I’m scared of ending up alone,” she wrote. Her eyes began to water as she thought of today’s events. Sniffling, she wiped away a tear. She’d almost lost Piper, and she’d already lost so many others: Her mother, Riley, and Tess. Who else was going to be added to that list? Maybe Sam? Joel? Henry? Piper? “What about you?” Ellie wrote.

Sam took the board in his hands and slowly wrote his response. “If you turn into a monster, is it still you inside?” He asked.

Ellie’s brows furrowed in confusion, but her confusion faded as Sam raised the hem of his pant leg. The light highlighted the bloody bite wound. Tiny veins reached out from the injury, but Ellie knew better. Those weren’t veins. It was the fungus. She saw Sam’s expression falter, and without thinking, she pulled back her sleeve. She stuck her arm up to the light, and Sam gasped. She had a mark just like him.

“My blood… is medicine,” Ellie wrote on the board before showing it to Sam. He tilted his head. Quickly, Ellie fetched her knife out from her bag and cut her hand open. Sam raised his hands up in protest, but Ellie ignored them. Carefully placing her bleeding hand on his wound, she mixed her blood with his. Sam winced as her finger dug into the bite. But as quickly as it happened, it was over. Sam’s pants returned to cover his wound as Ellie bandaged her hand up.

“Stay awake with me,” Sam wrote.

“I promise,” Ellie replied.

Raising up his hands, Sam signed the word “Promise.”

Ellie followed suit. Her fingers mirrored Sam’s as she said, “Promise.”

With the promise to each other, Sam and Ellie hugged. Their bodies rocked back and forth to bring a sense of comfort. Ellie held onto Sam tightly. She wouldn’t lose him. Her blood was the cure. It had saved Piper after she got bit, so it had to work on Sam. It had to.

It wasn’t long before the light of day broke through the window of the motel room. Ellie jolted awake as the sun’s beams fell on her face. She groaned and rubbed the sleep from her eye. Looking on the bed next to hers, she found Sam. He was sitting up, looking out the window. The morning sun had painted a picturesque scene outside. The sky was a grayish blue, and the grass was a deep green. Ellie was glad to see green again instead of steel-gray buildings and dust.

“Hey,” she called out to Sam. Once the words left her mouth, she smiled, realizing her mistake. Shuffling, she got out of the bed and walked towards the young boy. He was humming a song she hadn’t heard before. She wondered how he even knew what he was humming but figured she could just ask him. Reaching out her hand, she tapped on his shoulder.

Sam whipped around. His eyes were dead as they scanned Ellie. Immediately, he raised a hand to scratch her. His mouth opened and snarled. Ellie screamed as he pounced on her and knocked her to the ground. The force broke down the door, landing them in the other room.

Ellie struggled to keep her hands up to keep Sam’s gnashing teeth away from her. Her whimpers and cries reached the ears of Joel, Henry, and Piper as they were shaken awake. Immediately, Joel and Henry reached for the gun lying between them. It was closer to Joel, but Henry was faster. Jumping to his feet, Henry aimed the gun at Joel and then at Piper as they tried to approach Ellie and Sam.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Henry discouraged.

“Joel! Piper! Joel!” Ellie pleaded. Sam’s deadly eyes bore into hers. Her friend was gone. She had failed him.

There was a deafening bang, and Sam dropped to the floor. A pool of blood spilled from the young boy’s head, turning the sickly green carpet a scarlet red. Henry gasped, and Ellie screamed. Piper’s body could no longer hold her up, and she fell to the floor. A permanent expression of shock was carved onto her face. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t–

“Ellie,” Joel whispered. “Are you okay?” He held his hands by his head as Henry’s gun trailed his motions.

Ellie peeled her gaze away from Sam’s dead body to look at Joel and Piper. Silent sobs fell from her lips as a flood of raging tears trickled down her cheeks.

Henry stepped back, pulling Joel’s attention. The young man’s body was eerily calm as his eyes conjured up a storm. The seas of Henry’s dark eyes crashed and shook.

“Easy, easy, easy,” Joel muttered. He took a step towards Henry, who had brought the gun to him. “Henry, gimme the gun.”

“What did I do?” Henry sobbed.

“Shh,” Joel soothed.

“What did I do? What-what-what did I do?” He looked back at his younger brother. Where there was once a bright smile now sat a gaping hole where the bullet had entered. Sam was dead, and Henry had pulled the trigger. “Sam?”

“Henry, gimme the gun. Gimme the gun. Gimme the gun, Henry.” Joel was begging now. “Gimme the gun.”

Henry did no such thing. Slowly, his steady hand brought the cool metal of the gun’s barrel to his head. His desperate eyes met Piper’s. It was only a brief glance, but it was enough for Piper to understand. In the storm of Henry’s eyes, Piper saw the girl in the abandoned mall. She saw the young girl tear into her own flesh, begging the dead monster to have bitten her instead. She saw the gun that had a bullet promised for her brain if Ellie was taken by the fungus. She looked at Henry and understood. Closing her eyes, she knew. Moments later, she felt the warm droplets of blood on her face and the bang of a gun. Her arm was burning now. The very arm where her teeth had dug into her flesh months before. It was scalding as Henry’s body fell to the floor. The very floor where his brother met his demise seconds before.

“Oh God,” Joel gasped. A prayer or a cry of shock, none of them knew.

A few hours. That’s all it took to dig the graves of Henry and Sam. They laid to rest in fields behind the motel. Piper had found some sticks to make gravestones with. Sticking them on the ground, she silently turned back to the motel to retrieve her things. She had said her goodbye, so there was no use sticking around, no need for tears, and no need for mourning. Ellie had followed suit, grabbing her and Joel’s things. The girls returned to find Joel patting down the soil. Heaven forbid if any animals got into the grave and made a dinner of the bodies of the people they could have called friends.

Dropping Joel’s jacket and bag at his side, Ellie placed down her bag. In her hand, she held Sam’s scratchboard. She crouched down at his grave and picked up the pencil, writing one last message before placing it down. Picking up her backpack, she threw it over her shoulder and turned to Joel.

“Which way's west?” Ellie asked Joel. The wind had started to pick up, and the pleasant weather from before had started to turn sour. It was going to rain soon.

Joel’s eyes squinted, and he looked around before nodding in the direction. His lungs were still trying to recover after digging the graves.

After getting her answer, Ellie started to walk, leaving Sam and Henry behind. Piper followed. The girls walked side by side, together but feeling forever alone. Joel wasn’t following them.

“Let's go,” Ellie hollered back to Joel. He removed his gaze from Sam’s grave to look up at the girls. They stood waiting for him to move on. They didn’t have time to waste. After all, a storm was coming.

Joel shrugged on his jacket and backpack before taking one last glance at the graves. The message Ellie had written would forever be burned into his brain.

“I’m sorry.” ꧁______꧂

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꧁______꧂

[onceuponastory]

love me, too - sam wilson x reader

I hope we kiss goodnight It might just end my life - kiss goodnight by i don't know how, but they found me

Plot: One night in Delacroix, Y/N and Sam sit together on his sister's porch swing. Sam is preoccupied with Sarah and Bucky’s growing romantic interest in one another… whilst Y/N is preoccupied with her romantic interest in Sam. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Female!Reader. Also hinted Bucky x Sarah (Bucky has a crush). Warnings: A small mention of alcohol, and just a lot of sickly sweet fluff. But as always, if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This is for @flufftober Day 7: Porch Swing. I love writing Sam fluff, he's the best, and I adore this story, so I hope you all love it too! 💖 Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

“Y/N, when are you going to stop torturing yourself?” Bucky asks from beside her as he takes a swig from his beer. Y/N frowns. She went outside to sit on Sarah's porch swing for a moment of relaxation and solitude. She came to Delacroix for a break from the city and to unwind. Of course, seeing Sam, Sarah, Bucky, AJ and Cass was the main reason, but she can see why they love it so much whenever she’s there. It’s so peaceful, and the townspeople are so welcoming. So when Bucky joined her and told her he needed to ask her something, she definitely was not expecting such an intense question to leave his lips.

“Jeez, deep much? And besides, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“That’s a lie.” Another swig. When Y/N stays silent, Bucky rolls his eyes. “Really? You’re not going to talk now?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She lies again, which Bucky once again picks up on immediately.

“Mhm. Sure. I may be an old man, but I’m not stupid.” He raises a brow, staring at her and just waiting for her to break. When she still doesn’t take the bait, Bucky sighs. “I’m talking about how insanely in love with Sam you are, and how you still haven’t told him yet.” Y/N gasps, swatting at his arm. Bucky may be one of her best friends in the world… but he’s also a complete pain in the ass.

“Shut up!” She hisses. “It’s none of your business when, or even if, I’ll tell him. Besides, did you really come out here just to pester me on my dating life?” Y/N asks. Bucky shakes his head. 

“Nope. Sarah wanted me to ask you if you want some ice cream.” He smiles, and Y/N raises a brow.

“Oh, you wanna talk about my dating life? How about your huge crush on Sarah, lover-boy?” Bucky’s face goes scarlet, and Y/N’s burst of laughter fills the air. “I knew it!” She gasps. “You’re absolutely not one to talk about me not telling Sam. When are you going to tell Sarah?”

“I-I don’t know!” He stammers. “Anytime I go near her, Sam stares daggers at me.” He groans, and Y/N nods. She’s definitely been witness to a few of those looks. If looks could kill, Bucky would be in serious trouble. “Look at us. Best friends, and each in love with one of the Wilsons.” 

“And we’re both terrified to tell them the truth.”

Bucky chuckles. “How about we just both agree to tell them whenever we’re ready? …Whenever the hell that is.” He suggests, and Y/N agrees. “Perfect. I’m gonna head back in, you coming?” Bucky asks, and Y/N shakes her head. 

“I’ll stay here for a bit. See you later.” As Bucky departs, Y/N settles back into her seat, staring out at the sunset, and the sky’s vibrant pink and purple hues. God, it’s so beautiful out here.

For a while, she’s alone with her thoughts, until:

“Hey, you. Buck said you were out here on your own. What’s up?” Sam asks, sitting down beside her. 

“Of course he did. I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

She looks over at Sam, who grins back at her, turning his body to face her. As she wonders what it would be like to be wrapped in his warm embrace, she can already register her heart beating just that little faster. Despite the cooler chill in the air as autumn makes its way in, being with Sam like this makes her feel all warm and cosy inside. Well… that’s how Sam always makes her feel. Initially, she thought you felt this way towards everyone, including friends. But then she realised that nobody else makes her feel so content, or can make her laugh as hard as Sam does. Nobody else would let her call them at all hours of the night for a chat, even if it’s about mindless nonsense. 

Nobody ever cares as much about her as Sam Wilson does. 

And god, she loves him so much.

“Hey yourself. I could ask you the same question, you know.” Sam chuckles, a classic Sam Wilson smile that sends her heart into a flutter. She hopes his reply is something like: 

“I just wanted to see you.” or “I have to tell you something.” Unfortunately though, it’s not that. “Oh my god, I just had to get away from my sister and Bucky flirting with one another. It’s driving me insane.” Y/N rolls her eyes, suppressing a groan. Here it comes.

Ever since she arrived, Sam has been complaining about Bucky's crush on Sarah, and Sarah's reciprocated feelings for him. And since he can’t take his frustrations out on either of them, he's dumping it all on her. Of course, she understands he just wants to protect his sister, and despite knowing Bucky’s a good guy, it’s natural to worry. At first, she was thankful for his complaining, since it gave her a chance to think about something that wasn’t her crush on Sam. Now, though, it’s driving her crazy.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah.” she murmurs, and Sam raises a brow. 

“You sure? You look….” He murmurs, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well Sam, there’s only so many times you can hear about Bucky and Sarah staring at each other.” She points out, and he nods.

“I know, I know.” His words make Y/N breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, it's over. Until: “I just don’t get it! Like what could she possibly see in-“

“Oh my god, Sam, please stop.” She groans, leaning against the back of the swing.

“But- “

“No! That’s all I’ve had to put up with since I got here!” She exclaims. “And I understand you’re nervous, but Bucky’s a great guy and Sarah will be fine. She's raising those two boys by herself, I think she can handle your best friend.” In hindsight, she should’ve calmed down and thought about what she was going to say next. But after spending so long bottling things up, she’s ready to erupt. “This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, and I wanted to tell you how I feel about you!”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks, his brow raised and his voice suddenly more serious.

“I was going to tell you I love you!” She gasps. Her admission shocks them both, and her eyes widen. “Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh, fuck.” 

“Oh. Oh.” Sam murmurs. The embarrassment comes then, almost drowning her under its weight. It’s too late to turn back now, to protect her heart before it shatters completely.

So, since she’s already digging herself a giant hole, she might as well keep going.

 “Fuck, Sam, I have been in love with you for… to be honest, I lost count.” She chuckles awkwardly. Sam doesn’t laugh. Or smile. He just stares at her, which makes Y/N’s anxiety kick into overdrive. “I don’t mind if you don’t feel the same.” She lies. Honestly, it would tear her apart, to give so much of her heart to one person, her favourite person in the entire world, and receive nothing in return. “I just couldn’t go another day without telling you.”

“Y/N.” Sam speaks, his voice a lot softer now. He scoots closer, so much so their bodies are almost touching. “I’m sorry.” And then, Y/N truly wants the ground to swallow her whole. She tries to stand up, ready to leave and to forget this ever happened… until: “I wasn’t finished.” Sam chuckles. He takes a deep breath. “I was going to say I’m sorry for being so focused on my feelings and not paying attention to you.” He finds her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from his touch, and she slowly starts to calm down. “And I’m sorry for being an idiot.” He continues, and she raises a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell you how I feel about you.” He answers, and her mouth drops open. Sam leans in, cupping her cheek. “I love you so much. You’re the most gorgeous woman I know, and I’m so glad you love me, too. Although, I don’t think anyone could love you as much as I love you.” A deep heat settles on her cheeks, and Sam chuckles. “Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I really want to kiss you.”

“I really want you to kiss me, too.” Smiling, Sam leans in close, pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It’s perfect, like one of those rom-com kisses where the music reaches a crescendo and you feel it throughout your entire body. It’s better than anything she’d wished for. 

They sit there for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Watching as the sun disappears below the horizon, and as the stars and moon appear. “I love you, you know that?” Sam asks, and Y/N giggles.

“Yeah, I think you mentioned that once or twice.” But she still can’t stop grinning like a fool. A total, lovesick fool. Sam kisses her temple.

“Well, you better get used to hearing it more and more, because I’ll never let you forget it.”

“Good.” She smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

“I am sorry for being a pain in the ass, though.” Sam repeats, and Y/N chuckles.

“You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve more than made up for it anyway.” She grins, raising a brow, and Sam kisses her temple.

“Did I ever tell you I love you?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” She giggles, and Sam grins. 

“Well, I’m going to keep telling you. Because I do love you Y/N, and I never want you to forget that.” Y/N smiles, pecking his lips. 

“I could never forget you, Sam. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.” She teases, and Sam’s grin grows even wider.

“Sounds perfect.” He smirks, leaning in once more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[keysorsomething]

Sweet Tea and Kvass

This is a little work about my SCP OC again :))

My fav relationship dynamic is grumpy Russian man and a silly little cowboy who annoys him :))

Im so sorry this took so long to come out after it was teased I've been vv busy !!

Crossposted on Ao3 :))

Dmitri exhales, smoke flowing gracefully into the late-night air. He liked it here; it was a beautiful state, and being so far from the city was peaceful. The night’s chill was comforting and reminded him vaguely of home. He lets his eyes shut, slowly and calmly. Crickets rang through the chilly night, letting him get washed with a moment of silent peace. These moments were rare for him. He had so much to do, “War is not a nine-to-five”, after all*.*

Now he feels how tired he is, how he’s barely holding his head up. He looks down at his cigarette, using it as a timer. He had about halfway to go, and then he could go to bed. He was going to finish this, and then he was going to sleep. And he wasn’t going to let any bullshit get to him, no matter how much nonsense the idiots he was assigned to work with got in. He wished he could have someone who took the job seriously.

He tried not to dwell on the thoughts, instead trying to let himself relax so that he’d sleep easier when he went back inside. He took slow, long drags of his cigarette, savoring the moment of peace. He almost wants to start another when he holds nothing but the butt in between his finger and thumb. He shoves the burning end into the porch railing, before flicking it off into the dirt under him. He steps away with a sigh, preparing for whatever he has to deal with when he enters back into the house.

It was a decently large, well-kept, Foundation-owned house meant for missions like this. He didn’t know how often they had to go to this area of Southern Georgia, but he wasn’t complaining about having such a nice place to stay. And, all things considered, the house was pretty clean.

It was a small team, so everyone had their own place to sleep. The door swings open into a small kitchen area, and one of the other members of the team sits at the small circular dinner table. Dmitri groans, seeing him. Arin. Dmitri hated cowboys - he hadn’t met many, but that damn time in Texas had him meet enough - and Arin was the most Southern Cowboy-y as they came.

“Howdy!” He greets Dmitri as he enters the room, turning his head back to look at the Russian man. He always had this easy-going smile on his face, one that never looked forced. But it was just so jarring. Dmitri was so used to the blank faces of home. The smile left a sickly sweet feeling in his stomach, like eating a cake with too much sugar.

He grumbles lowly, “Привет, Доктор,” barely waving. Dr. Akins’ face twitches, he wasn’t really a doctor. It was something he got hung up on often, the phrasing. But Dmitri wasn’t planning on being chivalrous with the other man. Arin’s grin slips, and he nods, turning back around in his chair.

“Alright, well,” Arin mumbles, picking up the silverware he was using to eat. “You gonna be up before six?” He asks, taking a bite of the food.

“Maybe,” Dmitri replies, shrugging.

“Well, I‘mma make some breakfast, but I won’t be up ‘til five-thirty or six, so,” Arin turns back to him. “You’ll still be welcome to take some if you wanna,” He mumbles, before shaking his head. “But don't let me keep ya. You need sleep, you’re doin’ all the hard work.”

Dmitri blinks slowly, pulling a face, “Yeah, Goodnight, Doctor,” He grumbles, walking out of the room. He huffs, rubbing at his face as he makes his way down the hallway. He agreed to take the first room on the right - directly across from Arin's.

It wasn’t a willing agreement - at least not fully. Dmitri had to be at the front, there was no way he wouldn’t let himself be. He had to be at the front to protect his men, and unfortunately, that was the same reason Arin had to be just across from him.

“Keep the death count low; if the one who comes back when they die gets killed, there’s no need to report it,” was the official answer. He was basically a human shield when they took him out like this. Which was rare, as far as Dmitri knew. He didn’t know a lot about the other man’s job on site, but he couldn’t imagine that it was very kind to the other man.

Dmitri swings his room’s door open, groaning as he pulls his shirt off. He drops it neatly in the hamper, kicking the door back shut and not minding when it slams shut behind him. He lets out a heavy sigh when he’s in the bed again. He has to admit that it’s a nice, soft mattress, and the sheets were warm and inviting.

Dmitri is out like a light as soon as the blanket is on him, falling into a deep sleep. His sleeps weren’t always the greatest, haunted by visions of what he’s seen in battle. Many of his dreams were him reliving his last day before he went into the army.

Just slight glimpses of his life before, ones that end up with him re-awakening with tears in his eyes and a pillow tight to his chest. It was embarrassing, the only downside to sleeping here now. Back on site, the walls were thick, and soundproof but these walls are thin, wood.

When he awakes again, his body weight crushes the pillow on the bed, and he’s sweating profusely. He groans, sitting up and rubbing his face. As much as he misses her, maybe it’s a good thing his bed is empty nowadays. He slips out of bed, grabs himself a towel as he goes into the bathroom. He’s still slightly groggy as he starts his shower, taking his time to make sure the water is just right. It cools him off as he steps under the water with a soft huff.

When he gets out he can smell something cooking. It’s unfamiliar, but it leaves a rumble in his stomach. He groans, wrapping the towel over his waist before he steps into the halls. He hears hushed whispers from the kitchen. He rounds the corner, turning in. Arin stands at the stove, humming warmly as he uses a spoon to stir whatever was in the pan he held.

“I still say we should have chicken and waffles,” One of the men at the table groans.

“We can have some tomorrow,” Arin hums, pulling the pan away from the heat.

“What if I ain't here tomorrow? What if I die?” The man replies, letting his hand swing down onto the table.

“You ain’t gonna die,” Arin replies, turning around to him with a wink. “Not while I’m here, at least,” He beams, plating some food. “Oh, Agent Strelnikov,” Arin replies with a jolt, even though he’s smiling. “’M making breakfast; biscuits and gravy. You want a plate?”

Dmitri’s brow furrows, and he shuffles on his feet, “What is “biscuits and gravy”?” He asks, stepping forward.

“Soft bread and thickened sausage fat,” Arin explains, before chuckling. “Oh, well, that doesn’t sound very appetizing.” He plates some more, holding it out to Dmitri. “You wanna try some? You can be honest if you don't like it. I won't be upset, promise,” He beams, and Dmitri takes a moment to think about it.

He had to eat breakfast anyway. He huffs, taking the plate. He sits at the table, taking the fork and knife Arin offers him. Arin plates some for himself, sitting at the head of the table. He has only a fork, not having taken a knife for himself, and looks up briefly here and there as Dmitri takes slow bites. It was not the worst that he’d eaten, but it was nothing compared to food from home.

He took slow, calculated bites as he watched his coworkers eat. They eat fast, Arin simply powering through the soft biscuits with his fork. It bothers Dmitri, the sheer lack of manners. Is it that hard to eat with a knife? But he huffs, looking back down at the food. It’s filling, and it’s important to be full and fed for a long day of searching through a small town for an anomaly.

And the man wasn’t a half-bad cook. Dmitri finishes his food, damn near fully cleaning the plate. A part of him wishes he had been served more, but it will suffice. Arin stands when Dmitri is done, offering his hand out.

“I will do the dishes, Доктор,” Dmitri huffs as the hand comes into his view, raising to his feet himself. “You should not have to cook and clean.”

“Well, I thought you might want to get dressed, Captain,” Arin replies, gesturing vaguely towards the Russian man. He looks almost innocent, his eyes wide and batting at Dmitri.

Dmitri huffs once more, relinquishing his plate to the Southerner. He watches as Arin takes the plates, humming as he moves to the sink. He watches the man hunch, turning the water on as he starts the chore. Dmitri doesn’t stay to watch, turning back around to his own room to get himself dressed for the day.

The sun beats down on them, one thing that Dmitri is decidedly hating. That and Arin’s stupid hat that he keeps tipping down at the people they pass. People are beaming at the Southerner, waving and gleefully greeting him back. It looked like he was a small-town celebrity. People seemed drawn to him like he was magnetic. It was bewildering, to watch how much charisma he had. It was like a dance, socializing here. A dance the Dmitri couldn’t quite get yet. The moves were similar, maybe even exactly the same, but he couldn’t get the smaller intricacies, the ones that weren’t present at home.

To tilt his head here, to smile there, the smallest little twist that makes him walk backward in just a slightly uncomfortable way. These small things, even though they were additions to the dance of socializing he knew, made him feel clumsy like he was tripping over his own feet. Arin did not, though. Arin moved slowly through the dance, swaying at just the right time, smiling and pulling his dance partner in just close enough. The closeness that would be scandalous in the 1700s, the kind where you could feel the breath of the other fanning over your face.

It was something to be envious of, the expertise. Perhaps foolishly, considering how long the man had been around for, but Dmitri still looked at him with the green tint, wanting nothing more than to be able to glide so gracefully through the conversations like this.

Arin leads the small group consisting of himself, Dmirti, and two others. They make their way into a small building, a saloon-styled shop. The four of them make their way inside, being greeted by a young woman who chimes in a pitched-up voice when she spots them.

“Hello, table for four?” She asks sweetly, smiling up at Arin. He grins and shrugs, leaning on the counter.

“We were just lookin’ to ask around, buttercup, but we won't mind stayin’ for some coffee,” He turns his head back to the other men. “Would we, fellas?”

Dmitri watches the other two men turn to each other with big grins, and how Arin’s face twitches with clear displeasure at the sight. The hostess nods and leads them to a booth, Arin firmly yanking one of the men by the wrist like a mom pulling her toddler away from a toy they were throwing a fit over. There was a harshness in the action, a feeling of betrayal, that the man didn't seem to catch. But Dmitri did, and it was a curious thing.

The four of them sit in a booth, Dmitri and Arin sitting across from each other at the ends. Arin faces away from the door, smiling as he talks with the hostess, asking her about how she is doing. He asks about any strange happenings, stuff out of the ordinary. She mentions a semi-truck flipping over on its way out of town before asking why.

Arin grins widely - a disturbing expression to Dmitri, the way that the corners of his mouth pull up so much - and winks at the young woman, “Well, I can tell ya, but I’d have to kill ya, huh?” He chuckles, shaking his head, “We just wanna help, hon,” He corrects, turning to Dmitri. “That’s our job, ta help those who need it, yeah?”

”Дa,” Dmitri agrees quickly, and he watches Arin’s eyes shine excitedly at the agreement. The woman nods.

“Well, did anyone see the truck?” Arin asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh, well, some of the firefighters did,” She speaks, her voice soft as she taps the pen to her mouth while she thinks. She takes out her notepad, writing down a handful of names before handing them to Arin. He takes it carefully, turning to her with a big smile.

“Thank you, sweetie. It means a lot you trust us to help,” He tells her, her voice a perfect, sickly-sweet calm. That was what Dmitri disliked so much about Arin’s demeanor. He could never tell what was genuine and what was a ploy to get information or some other want from the target - because they blended into each other flawlessly.

It was easy to get that good at reading people and telling them what they wanted to hear, when you had been around for so long. Perhaps part of it was learned and part was natural, but either way Dmitri thought it was disgraceful. Not that he could blame the other man much - he had his own charms, and his own uses for them. But what Dmitri was doing there was completely different, in his mind. Charming a woman into giving you information for your fights was gross, and his charms had nothing to do with the violence of his missions or of the Foundation.

Arin insists they stay and at least drink something, even though they’re wasting daylight and money, considering that they already had food back at the house. But the Southener still orders a big pitcher of sweet tea with a big grin, insisting that Dmitri try at least a sip.

”When in Rome, you know?” He states, pouring a glass for Dmitri. He doesn’t fill in all the way up, or even halfway, just about a quarter. Enough for the Russian to get a taste, but nothing that would force him to have more than a sip. He pushes the glass forward, not minding the pure disdain on Dmitri’s face. “You don’t gotta, I’ll drink it if you’d prefer.” It was tentative, a small slip in the man’s pride for what was his home.

“I will try,” Dmitri insists roughly, taking the glass from him harshly. He hated that softness, how every offer of Arin’s came with an out. He was an adult, and he could handle himself. He places the glass to his lips, taking a long sip of the liquid.

It, much like Arin, is sickeningly sweet. He frowns as the cold tea touches his tongue, filling his mouth. He pulls away, swallowing it despite how much he wants to spit it back out. He was going to prove to this man that he was capable of taking care of himself, of fulfilling his own duties, and of the fact that he didn’t need another man to talk to him like a pampered child. He takes another long sip, finishing all that he had been poured. Arin smiles, with that same damn smile, and goes to ask him if he liked it.

But, he beats the cowboy to the punch by harshly grabbing the pitcher and pouring himself a full glass. He stares the other man down, violence clear in his face. Arin seems stunned - or perhaps hurt - at the action, but he remains silent. And he’s stopped smiling. It’s a perfect look for him, one that fills Dmitri with a twisted sense of pride.

That pride unfortunately leaves him with much more of the sweet liquid in his stomach than he’d wish, and he feels more than nauseous when they leave. His stomach is so uncomfortable he can’t even think something negative about the way Arin leaves fifteen dollars on the table, despite that being nowhere near fifteen percent of the amount they paid for that pitcher. Dmitri doesn’t even understand how he’s walking by the time they make it to the Fire Department building, which is small considering the area surrounding it. The paper only gives three names, which was the best thing to come from that whole situation.

The interviews go by quickly and are relatively painless. They don’t reveal much, but they give the group a location and some newer information, including other situations in the area. All of them seem to surround one house just on the outskirts of the town, which is the most helpful piece of information. They have their target, and that’s all they could ask for.

Well, Dmitri could ask for one more thing. This was, most likely, a type green. A reality-bender. He doubted anyone here could deal with them as well as his favorite most competent coworker, one Dr. Clef. But, he would have to do.

As much as he doubted these workers, he knew that they would do well, if he took control. He was competent, and he could overcome their goofing off if he was strong enough. If they listened maybe he could make it back to Site. And maybe he won’t have to die with his last drinking being sweet tea.

Gearing up is mostly silent. The men load their guns, adjust their armor, and say their prayers.

Arin doesn’t seem to say anything.

They drive down the back way, with Arin driving. It’s late, dark, by the time they go, but that was the idea. They park behind the house and sit in a moment of fearful silence together. Arin is the first to get out, taking a moment to look out into the dark woods behind the house.

It was run down, the kind of building local kids would tell ghost stories about before daring their friends to go knock on the door. Arin seems lost in thought as he stares off into the distance, fiddling with some keyring he’d attached to the handgun he had in his waistband. It was a moment of solemn silence, one Dmitri didn’t think was possible from the obnoxious other man. He sighs, standing next to Arin silently as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes.

Arin’s eyes slide to his hands, and a chuckle escapes him, “Just my thought, too,” He comments, his hand dropping the metal ring he was fiddling with.

“You want?” Dmitri offers, and this time isn’t doing it with some petty reasoning in his mind, but instead to be kind.

“Nah,” Arin responds, taking a pack of his own from his pocket. “You should keep ‘em for yourself.” He speaks softly, taking out a cigarette of his own as well as his lighter. They stand in silence, for a moment. Together, looking out into the dark forest, in the chilly night air.

“I could die,” Dmitri comments after a moment. “If this goes sour. I would not need extra cigarette then.”

“You won’t die,” Arin replies with an irritated huff. “Not while I’m here.”

[wordsinhaled]

drowning in rivers of peace a Dreamling domestic vacation 'verse playlist

so... yes, it's maybe a little extra to make a playlist for a fic i've written probably less than 1k words for so far, but the universe of this fic has basically consumed my brain, so this exists now!

this playlist is dedicated to @anameunmusical as a lil birthday gift! i saw your comment and i know this isn't quite a dream & hob kiss (yet!) but i hope it makes your day at least a little bit brighter! <3

tracks

the cure // miss van gogh glass animals // i don't wanna talk (i just wanna dance) nick leng // lemons glass animals // agnes olivia willhite // runaway man glass animals // helium half alive // hot tea finneas // shelter bombay bicycle club // how can you swallow so much sleep seabear // arms disclosure // where angels fear to tread winnetka bowling league // slow dances half alive // still feel. the japanese house // maybe you're the reason beatenberg // the prince of the hanging gardens zella day // man on the moon hellogoodbye // hang loose joywave // let's talk about feelings the cure // the same deep water as you lowfie // sweater weather (lofi)

selected lyrics under the cut

the cure // miss van gogh

instrumental

glass animals // i don't wanna talk (i just wanna dance)

we kissed in the morning on a summer day you taste like cigarettes and hurricanes there's a warning written in the corners of your face just a minute now there's something different now all your morning sounds, how's it all so loud? put the flowers down 'cause they look like clouds leave me to it then and let your hair grow out now i know it's safe to say nothing's perfect anyway i don't wanna talk, baby, i just wanna dance i don't wanna talk, no more living in the past

nick leng // lemons

how's your city, how's the winter, how's the rain? do you think when you are still, do you read in mornings? there's a window in the sky to pull you back why'd we leave it that way? won't you tell me, please? i can't help but miss you but you're too far to feel that do wishing wells run dry? but did ours have to? does the moon look different here from where you are? you're getting colder from me and i can't hold you that way

glass animals // agnes

your head is so numb that nervous breath you try to hide between the motions that trembling tender little sigh and so it goes a choking rose back to be reborn i want to hold you like you're mine you see the sad in everything, a genius of love and loneliness guess life is long when soaked in sadness on borrowed time from mr. madness where went that cheeky friend of mine? where went that billion dollar smile? i want to hold you like you're mine you're gone but you're on my mind i'm lost but i don't know why

olivia willhite // runaway man

falling asleep at night was never easy to me when i know there are shining stars above my head so i get a running start i'm way up there, way up in the clouds so i'm gonna glide right through the sky 'cause you didn't look back when i said "i love you" so baby, goodbye, and leave me with a sigh you'll eventually hit the ground and even then i'll be waiting for you i'll be waiting for you i'll be waiting for you my runaway man

glass animals // helium

ooh, and i'm falling now but it's so wrong you talk like a man and taste like the sun ooh, you lift your eyes up from the dust i knew just then, i knew it was done i guess i want you more than i thought i did

half alive // hot tea

wanna be here at your door 12 am and sleeping on your porch until you get in looking into your eyes (endlessly) falling into your lap (desperately) sitting at your feet, soaking in all your energy sip you through my front teeth (held too close) hold you in my hands like hot tea knowing i'm safe 'cause you want me sitting in a garden at your feet you, me only i wanna be ruined by love drowning in rivers of peace take it all in life-sized bites i'ma be outside up all night in the stars, pale moonrise longing for everything ooh, right now i wanna be (held too close)

finneas // shelter

there's no one else could ever hold me like you do there's nowhere else that i'd rather be than with you they call us lucky but i think we might be cursed 'cause the way you love me, i could drink the river dry and still die of thirst gimme, gimme shelter from the storm gimme, gimme shelter, keep me warm come kiss me by the delta where the river's torn but i'll be whole as long as i'm yours as long as i'm yours i don't wanna think about a life without you

bombay bicycle club // how can you swallow so much sleep

can i wake you up? can i wake you up? is it late enough, is it late enough? there's a story in which my eyes shut

seabear // arms

you left your black gloves on my table thinking of a way to get you to stay and i'll promise to fight the wind and waves for you i'm an owl with tired eyes i am a scarecrow in disguise and all i wanna do is stay inside and look out the window with you i fell asleep in your cobweb and i'm turning from the lights tonight saw you in a crowded bar, pale with hungry eyes

disclosure // where angels fear to tread

fools rush in where angels fear to tread and so i come to you, my love my heart above my head rush in where wise men never go but wise men never fall in love so how are they to know?

winnetka bowling league // slow dances

i dream about you the way i said i wouldn't if i hung a dreamcatcher over my bed i'd get (my bed, i'd get) a billion alternate endings where you left me and i do, and i do, and i do, and i do still think about you standing in your allbirds singing all the wrong words to "hallelujah" sweatshirt on a warm day tryna keep a straight face that's how i knew you talking with your fast hands saving all your slow dances i wish i was there with you in a moment of curiosity or weakness (my bed, i'd get) you may let me affect you, intersect you and i do, and i do, and i do, and i do still think about you i still think about you

half alive // still feel.

when i'm furthest from myself (far away) feeling closer to the stars (outer space) i've been invaded (can't escape) trying to recognize myself when i feel i've been replaced drifting as i dream, i'll wake up soon to realize the hand of life is reaching out to rid me of my pride i call allegiance to myself but i can feel a kick down in my soul and it's pulling me back down to earth to let me know so pick me from the dark and pull me from the grave 'cause i still feel alive when it is hopeless, i start to notice and this heart that beats inside of me will show floating in outer space, have i misplaced a part of my soul?

the japanese house // maybe you're the reason

should i be searching for some kind of meaning? apathy's a funny feeling i turned my gaze to the ceiling thanked a god i don't believe in for the scene outside i tried my best at sleeping but my dreams were unappealing so i searched for people in the landscape, passers-by i keep looking for something even though i know that it's not there maybe you're the reason every time i try to figure it out you're the only thing i can think about maybe you're the reason

beatenberg // the prince of the hanging gardens

hold me, scold me, extol me, console me through the 90s, and the 80s and the tigris, the euphrates and after all that i've said i want you to know me, i want you to throw me in the river so the clouds that follow my head could finally rain down on all your hydrangeas i never had a doubt that you would come through i always adored you i always ignored you just to make you try harder to do what you do i had to be awful just to keep you from danger come stand at my window with a view of suburbia as it marks out the edges of my opulent grounds i'm rich but i'm troubled there's a worm in my bougainvillea why do you plague me when my ethics are sound? hold me, fold me, cajole me, and release me on the lethe and the ichor through my body babylon, babble on

zella day // man on the moon

i had a dream that the sun in the sky was feeling so lonely he started to cry the rain on our window kept us inside all of the morning and into the night alone in my dream room i want to love you alone in my dream room, my body above you nobody saw us for seven days under the covers, your body a maze i couldn't believe that deep down inside two bodies glowing could light up the sky i'm in your dreams now i'm in your dreams, in your dreams, in your dreams feet off the ground, i'm floating in you

hellogoodbye // hang loose

darling, you don't know a thing until it's hurt you i have never known a thing, not a thing there's not a thing that's purely virtue walking to confession to talk of my transgressions i got chills from a beautiful thought darling, you don't get to bring the only bottle mine is always good and grim, thick and thin to the brim with love and not love i was in the bathroom, putting on a costume it was almost everything i wished that i could be then i was in the bedroom, taking off my costume it was almost everything i worried you would see every time i fell in love i poured every drop i had out on the floor you've got to keep on making love just to fill your cup so you can pour it

joywave // let's talk about feelings

i, i am drowning in love with you i, i hope, hope that is good for you i, i am learning to live again i, i'm done with the fast-paced flower crowned women i, i am falling in love with you i, i hope that is good for you i, i've been in every state but content is foreign soil it's sand i'd love to cultivate i'm just afraid that you'll change me won't run away but i'll have to take it slow don't want to fall silent for long won't run away, i spook out easy though

the cure // the same deep water as you

kiss me goodbye, pushing out before i sleep can't you see i try? swimming the same deep water as you is hard the shallow drowned lose less than we kiss me goodbye, bow your head and join with me and face pushed deep reflections meet and disappear, the ripples clear and laughing break against your feet so we shall be together it's lower now, and slower now the strangest twist upon your lips but i don't see, and i don't feel but tightly hold up silently my hands before my fading eyes and in my eyes your smile the very last thing before i go i will kiss you, i will kiss you i will kiss you forever on nights like this and we shall be together

lowfie // sweater weather (lofi)

instrumental

[lou-struck]

In Tandem

Kotaro Bokuto x Reader

~ Does it really take two to tandem?

Genere- Fluff

This is a result of my procrastination but I really love writing about this sweet Himbo.

WC: 1.1k+

Spring has sprung, the flowers are in full bloom and the world is coming back to life after months of cold winter. Sun peers through your blinds as you blink away the remnants of your sleep. Feeling well-rested and alert you reach over to the phone on your nightstand hoping for a bit of decent weather on your day off.

To your surprise, it’s supposed to be unusually nice all through the afternoon. This excitement is soon replaced with a bit of sourness when you realize that Kotaro will waste the day indoors at his MSBY training and weight room sessions without ever getting to enjoy the day.

‘ I hope you get to see a bit of that sunshine today Kou, I love you’ you text hoping that maybe he’d be able to check his phone on a water break. 

With the morning free from the responsibility you decide to make yourself some coffee. Mug in hand you move to sit out on the back porch of your home. The greenery, warm sunlight, and the songs of birds make for a perfect morning as you sigh in relaxed contentment. Sipping your coffee in peace, you savor the subtle notes.

 You and your surroundings are at blissful peace until the thudding sound of the front door swinging open. The blunt crash causes the birds to scatter in a chaotic cluster of wings. Your head shoots up in alarm till you see the familiar toned head of your boyfriend through the screen door.

“Baby, I’m home!” Bokuto's voice calls through the entryway slinging his gym bag to the floor. Placing your cup on the table you rush back in through the screen door to greet him happily. 

“Kou, you're home early. Did something happen at a practice?” you ask as he scoops you up into one of his bone-crushing embraces.

“Nope,’ he grins. “ I just forgot to tell you that it was a short session today. I got your text, Let's go out and do something.”

It's so cute how he jumps at the chance to spend the day doing something special. “I see,”  you wheeze hugging him back. “It's not often we get a whole day to spend with each other, what do you wanna do Kou?”

He thinks for a minute, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. After a second he perks up as if a light just appeared over his head. “We should rent bikes down by the water!” He exclaims with a childlike enthusiasm that you can't help but reciprocate.

“That sounds so fun Kou.” you praise “What time should we go?”

“Let's go soon, then we can eat lunch down at that cool place by the water,” he says balling his massive hands into fists out of pure unadulterated joy.

With this hunger-fueled deadline, Bokuto goes to shower off the stink of practice while you finish your coffee and get changed to the sound of your boyfriend's off-key belting from the bathroom.

~

Less than an hour later you pull your car over along the boardwalk. For a weekday, you are surprised at how busy it is. People are everywhere riding rented bikes and scooters and enjoying that sweet sweet vitamin D.

“We better hurry if we want to rent a bike before they are out,” you say quietly hoping you're wrong. The concern in your voice reaches the ears of your big boyfriend as he makes it his mission to get you on a bike. 

“Don't worry, I got this” He says practically pulling you to the stand. People step back not wanting to be trampled in Bokuto’s path. Once you make it to the stand, you are not surprised to see there are no more normal bikes left.

“Excuse me,” you ask a tired-looking employee. “Do you have any more bikes for rent today?”

The man looks back at the near-empty lot with a shrug. “All we have left are tandem bikes and peddle carts, but the carts are made for groups of four.”

“That’s great,” your boyfriend cheers. “This means we can ride together. Let's take this one,” he says pointing to a baby blue tandem bike. The worker takes his payment as it is brought out to you.

“Can I steer?” Bokuto asks giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster. You have no choice but to relent in the face of his cuteness as you take your seat behind him.

Your trip starts out wobbly, not quite used to the seat as you pedal down the boardwalk. But a few minutes in you glide down the pavement like pros as the cool breeze off the water hits your skin.

Since you don't have to steer you allow your eyes to shut as Bokuto takes you down the boardwalk. Peeking your eyes open a bit you realize that you have a great view of the muscular back of your boyfriend. His muscles flex and tighten as he excitedly points out at the colorful kites that rise in the air.

You are so lost in the rippling of his muscles underneath his shirt that you don't notice that he is picking up in speed. Your pedals keep moving faster and faster till your legs feel like jelly keeping up with him.

“Kou, maybe we should slow down a bit you try to say as your words are lost in the wind you are generating. Even your shouts are smothered as Kotaro unbothered zips across the pavement with the strength, speed, and stamina that is expected of a professional athlete of his caliber.

With no choice you quickly remove your feet from the pedals, they spin rapidly as your ankles hover safely out of the way before resting on another bar.

You hold this position as your boyfriend pedals down the waterway not realizing that he is doing all the work.

Finally, he comes to a stop outside the ice cream parlor “Hey hey hey, we made it.” He cheers not even a bit out of breath from the excitement he just put you through

“That was fun, Kou,” you smile “I’m ready for ice cream though. After that, we can go and get lunch."

“Yeah me too, I love having dessert first,” he says with a grin, going in for a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Are you sure your doing alright? You're shaking a bit," he says looking at you in concern.

"M' fine, you say "I just haven't been on a bike in a while" you lie knowing that if he knew how thrilling the ride was he waould surely sluk in grief for the rest of the afternoon.

"In that case," he says opening the off-white parlor door for you eagerly. “We should take the long way back to the stand so you can enjoy it”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, thanks for reading!

If anyone is interested I will be posting for a milestone event starting next Friday and am looking for a bit more inspiration. If anyone has a request or wants to check it out click here

[babymetaldoll]

I just want you (Chip Taylor / Reader)

Requested: Yes

Word counting: 3.5K

Summary: What would it be like to be married to Chip Taylor? Would it include a lot of women trying to hit on him?

Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of 68 Kill.

A/N: Hello, beautiful people! sorry, I've been a little absent here, but writing my series has taken most of my time! Also, I feel a little blocked, and my personal life has been a mess. But, here it is: my first Chip Taylor fic. Have you guys seen 68 Kill? I love that movie, and I love Chip so much. He deserves the world. I hope you guys like this little story!

Masterlist

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It wasn’t like I didn’t know my husband was handsome, ‘cos you had to be blind not to see his face was made by the gods, and all of his features were simply perfect. I just didn’t know every woman would flirt with him everywhere we were all the time.

And they weren’t even subtle about it. No. They made it very obvious when they looked at Chip each time they stopped by his work. They wanted him.

After all those years together, a part of me had made peace with that. I couldn’t stop them. He was hot, he didn’t want their attention, but he wasn’t rude or anything like it. Chip Taylor was a very polite man who was also very blind to the attention his looks gave him.

Chip owned a small pet sitting business that had started to really take off in the last few months. He had some savings that he used to buy a house when we first started dating. He lived there until we got married, and then we bought a bigger place outside the town. That’s when he decided to turn his old home into his own pet sitting business. And it was a hit. Chip is fantastic with animals. He is great with everybody, but pets just… melt with him. I think they can see the kindness of his soul.

Chip Taylor deserves the best things in life ‘cos he is the best man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved him since the day it took him almost half an hour to walk over and talk to me in the bar we met.

- “Every time a pretty face pops up, my brain turns into a potato- he explained, flustered ‘cos he kept stuttering as he asked for my number.

He was too sweet. Too cute. And he loved me. He had a ring that said so. But again, that didn’t stop most women who met him from flirting with him.

- “Here he is. Little Rascal had a great day today”- Chip walked to the front yard with a french bulldog, who kept barking, trying to get an extra treat from him. I smiled from a safe distance, reading a book sitting on a porch while Chip met with the dog owner. And she was as excited as Rascal was.

- “Hi baby! Did you have a good day today?”- the lady held the leash and caressed her dog’s head a few times before returning her attention fully to my husband.

- “Thank you for taking care of him.”

- “You are very welcome, Kim. It’s my job.”

- “No, it’s more than that. Rascal hates strangers, and he has been an angel with you since day one. I tell you, Chip, you are someone special.”

I know my husband blushed, ‘cos he is terrible with compliments. So he just shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. His shirt raised, showing his very toned midsection. And I swear, I had to force myself to stay put on that chair, ‘cos the way that woman looked at my husband was enough to make my blood boil. I wanted to run over and push her away from him. I wished I could tell her to get her dog and get the fuck out of our property.

But no. I didn’t. Instead, I tried to keep on reading, which was honestly impossible. But at least I didn’t move from my chair. I just stared at that scene, trying to control the urges of smashing that woman’s head against her car.

- “So, do you have plans for the weekend?”- the woman asked him, smiling flirtatiously

- “Not really.”- not the smartest answer, I’ll give you that.

- “Great! that means you can’t say no! I am having a small get-together at my place this Friday. You should totally come.”

- “Thank you, Kim, but...”

- “I’ll text you my address. I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Chip was awkward, he felt pushed to say he’d go, but I knew he didn’t want to. If he did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Besides, he wouldn’t usually make plans without asking me first. A part of me wanted to run and help him out of that awkward situation, but I knew he had to do it on his own. Yes, he was a grown-up, but after knowing everything he had gone through before we met, a big part of me wanted to take care of him constantly. I didn’t want anything wrong ever to happen to Chip. He didn’t deserve anything bad.

- “Thanks, Kim, really, but… I think I should ask my wife first”- he whispered and smiled kindly at the woman, who didn’t hide the disappointment from her face. I have the feeling she never actually saw the ring on my husband’s finger.

- “Wife? I had no idea you were married, Chip”- he chuckled and nodded as the woman tried to act normal again. But she couldn’t.

- “Yes, I’ve been married for the last ten months.”

- “Just ten months? Well, she is a lucky woman…”

- “Thank you”- Chip petted Rascal’s head and added- “But I am sure I am the lucky one to have her. I still can’t believe she actually married me.”

- “Come on, Chip! Any woman would be happy with a man like you.”

And that was when that woman crossed the line and rubbed my husband’s arm for longer than necessary. He froze and looked at her, not knowing how to get out of that situation. Chip is a sweet soul who still has some significant issues when it comes to setting boundaries.

I jumped from my chair and walked over quickly, with a big smile on my face. The woman turned to me and raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing who I was.

- “Hello, sorry to interrupt you, boo, but it’s getting late for our date.”

We didn’t have a date that night. But well, now we did.

Chip frowned, confused, and waited for me to explain a little more what I was saying. But, instead, I just smiled and held his hand, making sure that the woman’s hand was as far from him as possible.

- “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N), Chip’s wife.”- I said and waved.

- “Kimberly, nice to meet you.”

- “So you are Rascal’s mom. He is a sweetheart”- I kneeled and petted Rascal’s head behind his ears, right where I knew he liked it. Kim just nodded and smiled.

- “Ok, we should go, it’s getting late. Bye Chip”- she waved quickly, walking to her car. My husband said goodbye and wrapped an arm around my waist as I stood by his side and rested my head on his shoulder.

- “We are not going to her “little get-together,” by the way”- I whispered, and he chuckled.

- “Good, ’cause I didn’t want to go either. I actually had plans for the weekend, but I didn’t want to discuss them with her.”- I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and felt his big hands caressing the lower part of my back.

- “Which plans?”

- “I’m planning to stay in bed with my wife the whole weekend, watch movies, kiss her a lot, and maybe asking for pizza.”

- “You had me at ˝stay in bed,” Chip Taylor”- I giggled and kissed his cheek- “She was flirting with you, by the way.”

- “I don’t care if she tried to flirt. I only have eyes for you, moonbeam”- I chuckled at the cheesy nickname and felt his lips on mine. They felt warm and soft and filled with love.

But it wasn’t always so easy to shake off the thoughts of a woman flirting with Chip. Unfortunately, sometimes it was harder to remain calm. Some women were more aggressive with their flirting. Some were actually way hotter than me, and sometimes that makes you doubt yourself.

I didn’t know Liza or Violet, so I never knew if they were prettier, more intelligent, or sexier than me. I couldn’t compare or compete with them either, ‘cos they were dead. But some random women made my life a little more challenging from time to time.

- “Chip? Chip Taylor?”- a soft woman’s voice interrupted our conversation and forced my husband to turn around, feeling now also her hand on his shoulder. We were at our favorite bar, having a drink, celebrating the end of the week and another successful month of Chip’s small business. We were chatting about our days, sitting at our usual table, when interrupted.

- “Anna Davis? Hi! How are you?! Long time no see!”- my husband stood up and hugged the stranger like long-lost friends reunited. I had never heard of any “Anna” before. I was trying to remember if I did.

- “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”- Anna said and laughed- “I can’t believe it’s really you!”- and so, they hugged again.

- “Hi”- I waved from the table and smiled at the two of them as they moved apart.

- “I’m so sorry, babe. (Y/N), this is Anna, my neighbor when I was in middle school. Anna, this is (Y/N), my wife.”

- “Hi, nice to meet you”- she shook my hand and smiled at me for a second, and then turned to my husband again and continued catching up.

Chip looked happy and excited to see her. He didn’t have many friends, he still didn’t know how to trust most people, probably why he decided to work with animals instead. He had a good relationship with Jim, the boy who helped him clean, and with a few classmates from the community college. But that was it.

- “I can’t believe you are here!”- Chip was beaming- “Are you with someone?”

- “My friends were leaving. I’m visiting one of my best friends, who moved here a few years ago. But she has to work tomorrow morning, so she wanted to go home.”

- “Do you wanna sit with us for a while?”- Chip asked her and turned to me smiling. Of course, I couldn’t say no. Well, he didn’t actually ask; he just looked at me, and I moved my chair to make room for one more on the table.

- “I would love to! Thank you!.”

I loved the idea of meeting Anna, at first. I didn’t know many people from my husband’s past, basically just his parents. The fact she was his friend growing up sounded amazing, and it meant I could finally talk with someone who knew him when he was a kid and could tell me more stories about my husband.

But Anna had other plans. My husband blinded Anna. She basically ignored me, and he was so excited to see her and talk to her, he didn’t even notice I was being left out of the whole conversation.

At first, it was ok. Chip wanted to catch up with Anna, know what she was doing with her life, and all that. So he asked for her parents and family. Apparently, they were pretty close growing up.

- “Remember each Friday we had a secret sleepover?”- she asked and laughed. My husband nodded and sipped his drink.

- “Yeah! I would sneak into your house and watch a movie.”

- “You know, my parents knew you were coming to hang out after curfew. They just didn’t think it was wrong”- she added and laughed- “I’m just glad they didn’t know about the day we tried smoking for the first time!”

Chip burst into laughter, and so did Anna. I just stared at them and sighed. Neither of them explained the story. They were just too caught up in each other to even notice I was there.

Yes, I was feeling jealous of Chip’s long-lost childhood friend. I knew it made no sense, but somehow, he completely forgot I existed when she was there. Yes, it was probably ‘cos he was surprised to bump into her at a bar on a random night after so many years.

But the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was gorgeous. She had long legs, beautiful golden hair, green eyes. The girl could go to a freaking beauty pageant and win it. Besides, Anna wasn’t acting friendly, if you ask me. She kept rubbing my husband’s arm, repeating how excited she was to see him, and saying over and over again how good he looked… it was a little too much.

- “I tell you, Chip, you haven’t changed a bit!”- Anna smiled and looked into his chocolate eyes, and I swear she nearly sighed. I couldn’t blame her. He is dreamy. But he is my husband, and it felt wrong.

- “Neither have you,”- he added and turned to me for a second. I looked kindly into his eyes, knowing he was happy, and that was enough to make me feel happy too.

- “Can I get you another drink, moonbeam?”- he asked me and stood up.

- “Yes, penguin, please”- Chip nodded and blushed as I called him by his favorite nickname and then turned to Anna.

- “Another?”

- “Sure!”

And suddenly, we were on our own.

- “So, how long have you been married?”- Anna asked me and looked at me innocently.

- “A little over ten months.”

- “Just married! Congratulations. You must still be living the honeymoon!”

- “Yes, we are.”- I giggled and turned to look at Chip, waiting for our drink at the bar. It wasn’t hard being stuck at the honeymoon phase with him. Every day, he made every day feel like the first day we were together, even after three years of dating and ten months married.

- “We used to date when we were kids,”- Anna simply said and chuckled - “It was very childish, but I was his first kiss.”

- “Really?”- I smiled at her, making my best not to look jealous at all. “That’s so cute!”

- “He is adorable. He was the sweetest boy growing up.”- Anna added and kept her eyes on Chip. But for a few seconds, I could see the longing in them, and my struggle not to show how jealous I was got a little harder.

- “So when was the last time you saw Chip?”- I asked and kept my eyes on her, reading her expressions. It took her a few extra seconds to stop staring at him to turn and look at me.

- “When I moved out of town when I was fifteen.”- she sighed and chuckled- “Seems it was a lifetime ago.”

- “Ok, here are your drinks,”- Chip appeared and smiled- “Plus, I ordered some more nachos, ‘cos I’m getting hungry.”- I chuckled and held his hand upon the table, playing with his fingers between mine. Chip looked at me and opened his mouth to say something when Anna interrupted him.

- “Remember that summer you broke your arm ‘cos you fell from the tree in Shawn’s backyard?”

And my husband laughed, forgetting what he was going to tell me.

I stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix my makeup. I looked tired. I was tired. It was Friday night, and I wasn’t twenty-three anymore. I was weary, and all I could think of was getting into my bed with my husband and getting good twelve-hour sleep.

But he and Anna were still talking and having a blast together, remembering the good old times. Now, if you ask me, I had the feeling Anna wanted to do more than just talking to my husband, but he was oblivious to any of her intentions. That was until I walked out of the bathroom and saw Anna’s arm wrapped around Chip as they were dancing.

She was dancing with my husband, and he was laughing. Ok, that hurt. It hurt a lot.

I sat at our table and drank what was left of my drink. I stared at them for a moment and evaluated my options. I could storm out of that place, maybe make a scene and yell. But no, I trusted my husband. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me or even cheat on me with her. No. He was naive and a little awkward. But by the way Anna’s hands moved on his body, clearly, she wasn’t naive at all.

- “Oh! I’m sorry!”- Anna said laughing when they reached back our table- “I just asked Chip to dance with me ‘cos I love that song.”

- “That’s ok”- I smiled at her and held my husband’s hand tight upon the table.

- “But Chip is such a great dancer! He really knows how to move!”- Anna was asking for it. She wanted to be smacked. But I behaved.

- “He really does,”- I answered and smiled

- “I hope you are not jealous!”- I turned to her and frowned, pretending to be confused

- “Of course not! Why would I?”

- “I don’t know! It’s just that… he was mine way before he was yours and…”

- “He isn’t mine”- I cut her off, and for once, my voice stopped being nice and friendly- “And he is definitely not yours. He is not a dog, Anna, he is a person, and the only owner of his soul is himself.”

Anna stared at me in silence, and Chip wide opened his eyes, surprised by my tone of voice.

- “What I’m trying to say is that… I met him when…”

- “I know what you are trying to imply Anna, you’ve been trying to do it ever since you sat at our table. You feel like you need to prove something, but you don’t. Really.”

Chip held my hand tight and kissed it sweetly. He didn’t say anything to me. He just looked at me with apologetic eyes as I cut him a short smile.

- “Ok, I think I better go now”- Anna stood up and just waved- “It was great seeing you again, Chip.”

My husband smiled and waved as Anna walked away. Then, when he was sure she had left the place, he turned to me. I sipped what was left of my drink and sighed.

- “Sorry if I was rude”- my words were a whisper only Chip could hear.

- “No, moonbeam. You weren’t rude at all. I’m sorry.”

- “Chip Taylor, you didn’t do anything wrong”- I leaned and kissed his lips softly, cupping his face with both hands.

- “I feel like I did.”

- “No, boo, really. She was… clearly trying to get under your belt.”

- “I shouldn’t have danced with her, but she pushed me...”- Chip excused himself and kissed my hand again, as I still held his face and caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.

- “Yeah, you should work on that “No” thing a little harder,”- I whispered and chuckled.

- “Sorry if she made you feel jealous. I had a huge crush on her when we were kids.”

- “She said she was your first kiss”- Chip opened my mouth, but no word came from it for a few seconds.

- “Funny, I told her that just ‘cos she said I was her first kiss, but actually my first kiss was with her cousin Alice.”

I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Chip looked at me with guilty eyes as if that was the biggest secret he had about his past.

- “Well, I bet if I run, I can still catch her!! I need to tell her the news!!”- I said and stood up, just to feel Chip’s arms around me, protectively.

- “Let her think that. We all know who all my kisses belong to now.”

Chip held me tight and close to him as his lips rubbed mine slowly. I felt my head spin as his tongue slowly touched mine, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of Chip’s sweet and passionate kiss. He made sure to make me feel how much he loved him every time he kissed me. In a weird way, Chip’s kisses always felt like our first and last. I think he was always trying to show me his feelings, ‘cos his previous trauma taught him he didn’t know when a kiss could be the last.

- “I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,”- he whispered, and the title made my knees feel weak- “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

- “I love you more, Mr. Taylor,”- I replied and kissed his lips sweetly one more time- “And just between you and me, I am completely yours.”- I confessed and giggled nervously.

- “I am yours too, moonbeam. You own my heart, and I only want you.”- he whispered and kissed me one more time.

- “You just want me?”- I repeated, and he nodded, looking into my eyes filled with love- “Of all those women who wanna do you, you just want me?”

- “Which women?”- he asked me, clearly confused

- “A lot of women out there keep giving you the fuck eyes.”

- “What?! No way”

- “Do you think Kim invited you to her house for a small get-together? She wanted to get under your belt, penguin.”

- “But I am your penguin, that means I am not looking for any other woman. I just want you.”

- “Just me,”- I repeated again, and he nodded.

- “Just you, Mrs. Taylor”- I sighed, pleased, and closed my eyes for a second “Wanna go home?”

- “You still have to dance with me,”- I pouted, and he held my hand.

- “Whatever my wife wants.”

--

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561 @all-tings-diego

[wondersofdreaming]

Keepsake

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person)

Word count: 1.827

Warnings: Death, loss, hopelessness, light cursing, sadness, melancholy, grief, heartache, mourning.

Author’s note: This story was inspired by the song 'Everglow' by Coldplay.

Do me a favour and listen to the song, while reading this, I'll link to the different versions, depending on your mood.

Everglow (original) by Coldplay

Everglow (acoustic) by Coldplay

Everglow (instrumental) by Alexandre Pachabezian

The links are for Spotify, if they don't work try this link for YouTube

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the wife, son and Elijah Reed, who are figments of my imagination.

A massive, MASSIVE, thank you to my beloved angel, @radaofrivia, for giving me the idea from just a few thoughts, for sitting through with me while I wrote this, for giving me advice and for just being there.

Please check out her stories right here: RADA'S MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

(Young Syverson, picture credit to @killjoy-assbutt-1112 - find it here)

Oh, they say people come Say people go This particular diamond was extra special And though you might be gone And the world may not know Still I see you, celestial

Lyrics are from Everglow by Coldplay.

The looming grey clouds were moving closer towards him. He could hear the distant sounds of the rumbling thunder. Before long it started to rain and lightning lit up the entire house. The dirt road was flooded in no time, giving the crops the liquid nourishment they needed.

The former army captain was restless. It was on days like these he missed him, more than anything else in the world. He couldn’t sit still and had planned on working on the house, but the coming storm was putting a stop to that. Instead, he sat on the porch swing he built with Elijah when Lucas bought the house.

The Syversons had moved to their farm when Lucas was 4. A few days into the move, their neighbours had stopped by with some casserole, and to welcome them to their community. Mr and Mrs Reed also had a son who was a few months younger than Luc. Elijah had hidden behind his mother’s leg, a little shy, but with some encouragement he greeted Lucas.

“I’m Lucas, but my baby sister can’t say it yet, she keeps babbling Luc, so if it’s easier, you can call me Luc too.”

“I’m Elijah.”

Sy remembered he was trying so hard to pronounce his new friend’s name. He smiled at the memory, the name had been permanent in Lucas’ mind, only using Elijah, when he was mad at him or thinking he was about to do something stupid, which he did often.

“Lija, wanna play?” Lucas asked awkwardly.

“What?” Elijah looked profoundly confused. “I… don’t know.”

“Go on, son. It’s okay,” Mr Reed tried to encourage him.

“Come with me, Lija. I wanna show ya somethin’.”

Lucas had shown Elijah his new toy tractor that his parents had given him for his birthday. The two young boys had played together, and before long were inseparable.

A round yellow object in the palm of his hand. He was fiddling with it. The coin was always in his pocket, so he could keep his best friend close to him at all times. It was an old arcade coin that you could plot into any machine and play one game.

The two best friends had each gotten a dollar’s worth of coins, but the man at the ticket booth had miscounted, so Sy had gotten an extra coin, which the two friends had fought over during their time in the arcade. Lucas being the protector he was, lost to Elijah on purpose, so his friend won the coin.

“I’ll savour it, it’s going to be my lucky coin!” Elijah has announced.

Syverson swung the porch swing with his booted foot. He stared at the coin, wondering why he had been the lucky one. Luc shook his head faintly, his face full of pain and sorrow.

The coin became a thing that decided their fate. When the boys couldn’t agree on something, they would flip the coin. The picture side was heads and the text ‘No cash value’ side was tails. It might have been worth nothing, but it was a priceless item to the two friends.

“Heads: I ask her on a date, tails: you ask her,” Elijah flipped the yellow coin and covered the back of his hand as it landed. The two teenagers looked over at the brunette cheerleader, who was laughing with her friends. Prom was upon them and they both wanted to ask her. Elijah lifted his hand, it was heads.

The dumb coin was always on Elijah’s side. Lucas let out a soft laughter of the memory. Elijah’s face had been priceless, Sy wished he had taken a picture of it. It had been Elijah’s first kiss that night.

When Lucas decided to enlist, Elijah followed him, even with a lot of arguing against it from Sy’s side. He didn’t want his best friend anywhere near a warzone but in the end, he was glad that Lija was there with him through every hardship during training, when they lost people on their team, when they had to carry the dead back to base, it was better to have a friend by your side and share the pain with.

It didn’t take Syverson long to rank up and become captain. He ended up leading a large group of soldiers in a village in Iraq, with Elijah as his lieutenant, he felt like he could conquer the world.

During one of their trips home, Sy had bought a house he wanted to renovate, maybe start a family in. Elijah had spent every moment he could, helping Lucas with the house. It had made them closer as friends, and they had heartfelt talks about their future. Elijah wanted to come home and help his ailing parents with the farm, maybe get into breeding horses, preferably racehorses. Sy hadn’t thought of his future in that sense by then. He just wanted to relax, drink beer and ride his motorcycle.

There was hardly a moment in Lucas’ life where Elijah wasn’t a part of it. Elijah was his best friend, and if he had to be a little girly, they were BFFs. His best friend’s presence had made every moment special, made them better. It was the hardest part, to not have Elijah by his side anymore. He missed Elijah’s silly, huge and sometimes irritating grin, which somehow made the world seem a bit brighter during the dark times. Elijah made his life easier… he just made it better to have a friend to share everything with.

His heart had broken in a million pieces when the building collapsed on top of his best mate.

“Captain, we need a scouting team. I’m taking three soldiers towards those buildings and see if there are enemies up ahead,” Elijah had suggested.

“Lieutenant, I make the orders here. I’m going,” Lucas commanded.

“Heads or tails, Luc,” Elijah picked out the coin from his breast pocket.

“This is no time for such thing, Lija,” the captain grumbled.

“This is the perfect time, Luc. We promised that whenever we couldn’t agree on something, we would use the coin. So, heads or tails, captain Syverson.”

“Heads.”

The coin had landed on the tails side. Lucas had cursed the coin, fuck, shit, crap, dammit!

“It’s my turn to protect you, Luc. I’m not the scrawny little kid anymore, let me show you!”

Elijah had gathered three soldiers and run between two concrete buildings with a big smile on his face. Sy would never forget the smile. It was a grin of pride and determination. And it was the last time Lucas would ever see his best friend.

Moments later a huge explosion shook the ground they were standing on. Sy watched with horror as the buildings collapsed, trapping Elijah and his team. What they didn’t know then was that the impact with the concrete walls had killed him instantly.

The rest of the soldiers watched as their captain went on his knees. Utter despair and anguish plastered on his face, tears about to escape the corners of his eyes. The usual strict army captain, the man with the muscles, the tough guy who could break you with a stare, was breaking down.

“Lija…” he whispered into the dust-filled space, his voice breathless like somebody knocked the air out of his lungs.

At night he had screamed in pain of the loss of his most beloved friend. His days were filled with hopelessness as he prepared to fly home with Elijah’s corpse in a coffin. The nights only brought nightmares, so he started writing a letter to his best friend and thinking of how to tell Elijah’s parents.

“Dear Lija. I can’t believe you’re… Shit, I can’t even write the word. Just a four-letter word, and yet I can’t fucking write it down on a piece of paper. I wish I could have taken your place, man. It should have been me. I hate you for forcing me to pick a side on that stupid coin. I hate you for being so brave. I hate you for wanting to protect me. Fuck you for dying. Fuck you for leaving me. Here. All alone. What about your parents? How am I going to tell them that you’re… how am I going to face them? You are and will always be my best friend. I wish you could go back to your parent’s farm on your own two legs, not in a fucking box. I miss you, Lija. You’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever get. So rest in peace and keep the seat next to you warm, I’ll see you on the other side. - Luc.”

Lucas had sneaked the letter into Elijah’s breast pocket of his uniform before they had shut the coffin. The coin that Elijah had on him, had been put in a plastic bag with the rest of his belongings, prepped to be given to his next of kin, his parents. But Lucas took the yellow token. He needed a memento to remember his best friend by, something that he could keep with him always. A keepsake.

It had taken every ounce of courage for Lucas to step up to the front door of the Reed’s farmhouse. A house he was so familiar with and had so many adventurous sleepovers in Elijah’s space-themed bedroom. He could smell Mrs Reed’s famous peanut brittle, making it harder for him to knock, but he did it anyway. Standing there in his military uniform, he told the two people, who had acted as a second set of parents to him, that their only son had died heroically in battle. Lucas stood frozen, watching them mourn the loss of their son. He was about to step away to give them space, but Mrs Reed grabbed his wrist and brought him into the hug.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect him,” he pleaded, his voice breaking slightly.

“Was he in pain?” Mrs Reed asked, breaking Lucas’ heart all over again.

“No, ma’am. It happened really fast.”

Sy fiddled with the arcade coin. Having zoned out the thunder, not noticing the storm had come and gone. The sun was slowly setting on the horizon. It was a peaceful ending to an emotional day.

A loud wailing came from inside the house. The front door opened and out came his beautiful wife with their young son in her arms. His face was stained in tears. The tiny boy reached towards his father the minute he saw him. In his father’s arms was the only place the boy was happy and content. Sy’s face broke into a happy grin at the sight of his son. His tiny fingers trying to grab the coin in the former captain’s hand.

“This,” Sy showed it to his son, “will be yours when you’re old enough not to eat it.”

He chuckled at the frustrated look on the boy’s face. Sy kissed the top of his son’s head.

“I love you, Elijah.”

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 03

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 9.2k [3/6]

notes: this will likely be my last update of this fic until the new year, because i have two (2!!!) other fics that i’m planning to post in december, including another jungoo one, so! please look forward to those, and enjoy this chapter in the meantime! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, me absolutely fucking up everything about korea’s geography probably, semi-public? fingering???, jungkook....... shall we say, rocks the boat, there is one (1) dick pic but no one’s complaining

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Monday - 11:27am

Kim Taehyung added you to the group: the great escape!!!!!! 🏝🚗💨

[11:27am] Taehyung: let’s gooooooooooo!!

[11:27am] Jisoo: ???

[11:28am] Lisa: go where?

[11:28am] Taehyung: parks lake house this weekend! we’re going on vacation!

[11:28am] You: hold up tae, we haven’t even asked our parents if we can have the house yet

[11:29am] Chimchim: oh yeah lmao

[11:29am] Chimchim: u wanna go ask noona??

[11:29am] You: nope

[11:30am] Chimchim: ugh, fine

[11:30am] Chimchim: u big baby

[11: 31am] You: 🙄

[11: 37am] Chimchim: they said yes!

[11:38am] Taehyung: LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

[11:38am] Minho: sweet 👍

[11:38am] Taemin: tight

[11:39am] Jungkook: dope

[11:40AM] Jisoo: you’re all idiots 🙄

Tuesday - 2:34pm

[2:34pm] Chimchim: i’ve secured the van

[2:34pm] Chimchim: for the trip i mean

[2:35pm] Taehyung: noice

[2:35pm] You: 10 people aren’t gonna fit in mom’s van, chim

[2:37pm] Jungkook: i can drive too

[2:37pm] Chimchim: 👍👍

[2:37pm] Chimchim: see? nothing to worry about

[2:38pm] Jungkook: yeah noona, nothing to worry about. nothing at all.

Wednesday - 9:49pm

[9:49pm] Taehyung: oh my god we need FOOD

[9:49pm] Lisa: you’re just realizing that now?

[9:50pm] Taehyung: shut up

[9:50pm] Taehyung: i have a cooler

[9:51pm] Lisa: and ice?

[9:51pm] Taehyung: ………… i will buy some ice

[9:52pm] You: there’s a grocery store on the way up that we always used to go to, we can stock up there

[9:52pm] Taehyung: 👍

[9:54pm] You: you also better remember to bring your own towels. and more than one change of clothing

[9:54pm] Taehyung: 👍👍

[9:55pm] Chimchim: yes, mom

///

The day of the trip finds you standing in the foyer, rifling through your purse to make sure you have all the essentials. Off in the distance, you can hear Jimin sprinting around frantically, catching the briefest glimpse of his ruffled blond hair before he disappears again into the depths of the house.

“Chim, I swear to god. Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“I did!” your brother whines, poking his head out from the living room where his suitcase is lying wide open, belongings scattered in every direction. “It’s just that—oh, fuck. Do you have my toothbrush?”

“Why would I have your toothbrush?” you deadpan.

He ignores you, and not two seconds later, he lets out an excited shout. “Never mind! I found it!”

You sigh and rub your temples. The trip hasn’t even begun, yet you’re already feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I’m going outside,” you call to your brother, who grunts in acknowledgement. Opening up the front door, you drag your suitcase out onto the sun-drenched porch, relishing the welcome breeze that caresses your cheeks and whispers through your hair.

The rare moment of peace is broken almost immediately by the rumble of a starting engine—the sound shuddery and wavering before it finally evens out into a steady, mechanical purr. It’s coming from nearby, and your gaze immediately travels to the neighboring driveway where a beat-up sedan sits, torn between exasperation and amusement when you see Jungkook waving at you from the driver’s seat.

“I’m coming to pick you up!” he calls through the open window, and you hold back your laughter as he reverses out of his driveway, rolls ten feet down the street, and pulls into yours.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask once he’s parked.

“Of course it was,” he replies, hopping out to grab your suitcase. You watch as he pops the trunk and loads it inside, and blanch when you realize what that means.

“Wait a second. Am I riding with you?”

Some emotion flashes across his face, but he wipes it away before you can identify it. “Would that be so terrible?”

It’s been one week since Taehyung’s party, and Jisoo’s warning still rings loud and clear in your brain. Still, you feign nonchalance and tamp down the uptick in your heart rate, offering him a shrug. “Just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

He grunts. An awkward silence settles over you as he adjusts your suitcase in the trunk beside his, and you distract yourself by fiddling with your purse strap until he slams the lid closed.

“So…” you start after a few seconds. “Are we picking anyone else up?”

“Yugyeom,” Jungkook replies, opening up the driver’s side door and climbing in. Hesitantly, you make your way over to the other side of the car, wondering if there’s any way you can avoid sitting in the passenger seat without looking like a total weirdo.

“Oh! Jungkook’s here already?” Jimin exits the house at last, lugging his suitcase and a smaller backpack. He shoves both into the backseat of your mother’s van before coming over, frowning when he sees you hovering near the trunk. “Why are you just standing there?”

You make a face at him. “We’re waiting for you, dumbass. Who’s riding with you?”

“Tae, Minho, and Taemin,” your brother replies. “Didn’t you see the group chat this morning?”

“I muted it days ago,” you admit. “You guys were annoying as hell.” Then another thought strikes you, your brain belatedly registering the names Jimin listed. “Wait, what about the girls? Aren’t they coming?”

Your brother rolls his eyes. “Jisoo’s working as a camp counselor this summer, and Lisa has other vacation plans. Maybe if you hadn’t muted the chat, you’d have known that.”

He has a point, though you aren’t about to admit that. You’re also wise enough not to inquire about the third member of the trio, remembering Jisoo’s revelation at the party. It’s no surprise that Chaeyoung isn’t joining you for the weekend—you’d want to avoid extended periods of time with your ex-boyfriend too. At the thought, your gaze reluctantly flits back over to the ex in question, who raises an expectant brow when he catches your eye.

“Ready?” he calls out the open window.

No, you want to say. But Jimin has already clambered into the van and slammed the door shut, and Jungkook’s car is blocking the van in the driveway so you suck in a deep breath and slide into the passenger seat beside your dark-haired neighbor.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jungkook nods and throws the car into reverse. One hand splays across the wheel while the other comes up to rest on the back of your seat, and your breath hitches when he cranes around to check his blind spots, his face suddenly too close for comfort.

He’s playing with you, you tell yourself firmly, leaning back until your back’s pressed against the door and you can safely breathe again. Chaeyoung. Think about what he did to Chaeyoung.

“Hey, I made a roadtrip mix,” Jungkook pipes up all of a sudden. He grabs his phone from where it’s resting on the dashboard, tapping at the screen until the first strains of a melody filter through the car speakers. “It should last us the whole way.”

You perk up when you recognize the tune. “Oh! I love this song.”

Jungkook watches out of the corner of his eye as you bob your head to the beat, before smiling down at his lap. “Yeah. I know.”

///

Yugyeom lives on the other side of town, in a sprawling, winding neighborhood that sends your brain—and your phone’s GPS—into a complete and total tailspin. “Wait, wait—hang on. I think you missed a turn. You must have.”

Jungkook’s face crumples in confusion as he slows the car to a crawl, drawing a few irritated honks from the cars behind you. “There weren’t any streets back there, though.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, twisting in your seat to get a better look. “The directions said to take a right in… oh, fuck, hang on. We’re not even on a digitized road anymore, apparently.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh, but when you glance up at him, he’s wearing a grin. “Come on, Noona. You’re supposed to be my navigator. I’m depending on you.”

“I only know how to get us to the lake house, not Yugyeom’s,” you sniff defensively. “This is way beyond my pay grade.”

Jungkook chortles and reaches out, extending an open palm. “Can I see your phone for a sec?” You nod, handing it over, and he clicks his tongue as he turns it upside-down—rotating it a full three hundred and sixty degrees before returning it. “We might be lost,” he declares.

“Gee, you don’t say.”

He chuckles again. Picking up his own phone, he swipes a thumb across the screen before handing the unlocked device over. “Here, call Yugyeom. Put him on speaker, yeah?”

You hum in acknowledgement and scroll down in his contacts until you find the other boy’s name, clicking it open. A photo fills the screen as it rings—clearly a group photo from the way it’s cropped, zoomed in on Yugyeom and the ridiculous face he’s making.

“Is this from graduation?” you ask curiously.

Jungkook blinks and tears his gaze away from the windshield. “Huh?”

“Yugyeom’s contact photo,” you clarify, tilting the phone screen so he can see. “He’s got robes on.”

“Oh.” He looks away again, cheeks flushing. “Yeah. It’s lame, I know.”

You shake your head. “Don’t say that. I think it’s nice.”

Jungkook doesn’t get a chance to respond, but it’s impossible to miss the grin that crinkles his face and settles there. There’s a staticky hum as the line connects, and then Yugyeom’s voice is filling the vehicle, sounding as if he’s just rolled out of bed.

“Whaddaya want?”

“We can’t find your fucking house, man,” Jungkook says bluntly, turning onto a street that you’ve driven down at least three times by this point. “Where do you live?”

On the other end of the line, Yugyeom sighs. “Okay, okay. What street are you guys on?”

That gives Jungkook pause. “Uhh, Cedar Street? Oak Avenue? It has a tree name.”

“Neither of those streets exist, dude.”

“Birch Boulevard!” you exclaim. “We’re on Birch Boulevard. I saw the sign a while back.”

“Ah, okay. You’re close, then. Do you see a sign for Linden Lane?”

You glance around until you alight on a signpost. “Yeah.”

“Turn right onto it. Then take the first left, go past the cul-de-sac, and another left. Do not pass Go, and do not collect two-hundred dollars. I’m the fifth house on the right.”

He ends the call before you can ask him to repeat the directions, and you send Jungkook a helpless look. “Did you get all of that?”

“Besides the overused Monopoly joke?” Jungkook asks.. “Yeah, I got it. Right, left, left. Fifth house. Shouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get there.”

And true to his word, you arrive at the house three minutes later. Yugyeom is standing on the front step with rumpled hair and a duffel bag at his feet, and you snort when he throws open the car door and flops across the entirety of the backseat.

“Rough morning?”

“Stayed up late packing,” he says by way of explanation, his eyes already beginning to drift shut. Jungkook immediately turns the music up, and you giggle when Yugyeom shoots upright at the bassline that’s now shaking the entire vehicle. “I’m up, I’m up! Jeez, man.”

Jungkook just sends him an innocent grin in the rearview mirror. You turn the volume back down to a reasonable level as Yugyeom directs Jungkook onto the best route to take out of the neighborhood, and it isn’t long before you’re merging onto the highway that leads toward the coast.

You’re just beginning to get comfortable, staring out the window at the passing cityscape, when your leg vibrates with an incoming text notification. Glancing down, you see that Jungkook’s phone has slipped between your thigh and the seat, the screen lit with a new message.

[10:21am] Minho: gonna be at the store in 10

“Minho says they’ll be at the grocery store in ten minutes,” you relay to your companions. “We have a little longer to go. Probably another half hour or so.”

“We wouldn’t be so far behind if Yugyeom didn’t live in a fucking labyrinth,” Jungkook remarks, but a glance at the young man in the backseat reveals that he’s drifted off despite your earlier stunt. Rolling his eyes, he turns to you. “Can you text him back, Noona?”

You nod and hold out his phone so he can unlock it with his thumb. “Hey,” you say once you’ve hit send on the message. “Do you have a contact photo for me?”

Jungkook stiffens slightly, his gaze skittering between you and the road. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I guess I do. But it’s nothing, really. It’s kinda lame. But you… you can look at it if you want.”

Curiosity piqued, you scroll down until you find your name, tapping on the image beside it. The photo is from several years ago, during a family trip to the lake house with the Jeons. You are no older than fifteen, your arm slung around a fourteen-year-old Jungkook as the two of you stand knee-deep in the lake, wearing swimsuits and bright smiles. In the background, you can just barely make out a blurry Jimin mid-splash.

“I remember this,” you murmur, zooming in on your smiling faces. “That was a fun summer.”

“Junghyun was grumpy the whole time,” Jungkook recalls with a laugh. “But we had a good time, didn’t we? We practically lived in the lake that entire week.”

“Or that old canoe.” You grin, taking one last look at the photo before locking his phone and handing it back to him. “Remember? We’d always row out too far, and our parents would scream for us to come back before we fell in and drowned.”

Jungkook snickers. “As if I’d ever let you drown. I’m a great swimmer.”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

He backpedals immediately, realizing his mistake. “Hey, don’t twist my words. I said nothing of the sort.”

“That’s what I thought.” Giggling, you turn to look out the window, propping your chin in your palm as you watch the scenery flash past. “And I want that photo, by the way. Send it to me?”

“As soon as we get to the store,” Jungkook promises. “Speaking of which, we’re getting close. Keep an eye out for the exit for me?”

“Deal.”

///

Jimin and the others are waiting in the parking lot when you arrive, perched on and around the van as they watch Jungkook expertly maneuver the car into a neighboring parking space. “Took you long enough,” your brother says once the engine is cut, hopping off the hood and landing lightly on both feet.

“We’re here now, aren’t we?” you snark as you join the others hovering near the grocery store entrance. Jimin makes a face at you, and you stick your tongue out in response. After a quick huddle—wherein you form a very haphazard game plan—everyone disperses. Jimin grabs a shopping cart and heads inside with Taehyung and Minho, the latter of whom is trying to clamber his way into the cart to hitch a ride.

Sighing, you grab a shopping cart of your own and scan the interior of the store for the produce section. They’ve rearranged the aisles since you were last here, but you quickly find what you’re looking for and begin picking your way over when Jungkook materializes at your side.

“So, what are you thinking for food?” he asks, nudging you away so he can push the cart in your stead.

You allow him to take over, gesturing toward your destination. “I know my brother,” you tell him dryly. “He’s going to buy meat and completely forget about everything else. And I don’t trust any of you to buy a single fruit or vegetable.”

“I like fruit and vegetables,” Jungkook defends.

“You like everything,” you correct, flashing him a teasing grin before leading him into the produce section.

Grocery shopping with Jungkook turns out to be surprisingly pleasant—comfortable, even. He proves adept at finding the ripest fruits and greenest vegetables, and when you ask him to find some apples, he trots off immediately and returns with a handful of sweet potatoes in addition to your requested fruit.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning to do with those?”

Jungkook feigns offense, slapping a hand to his heart. “That’s cold, Noona. Don’t you think I can cook?”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life,” you respond. “How am I supposed to know if you can or not?”

“I can,” he promises. “And I’ll prove it too, if you let me.”

You get the feeling he’s not just talking about cooking anymore, but he doesn’t give you a chance to answer. Dropping the apples and potatoes into the cart, he flashes you a crooked little smile before turning toward a display of cabbages, leaving you to wonder at what exactly is going through his head.

///

It’s nearly one in the afternoon when you arrive at your family’s lake house. The last stretch of the drive takes you through the forest along a winding, narrow road, but Jungkook is a capable driver and you know the way well enough to warn him about any upcoming hairpin turns. Piling out of the car, the three of you make quick work of putting the food safely into the refrigerator. By the time you’re finished, Jimin and the others have arrived as well, lugging their belongings inside and setting them inside the entryway.

“So who’s sleeping where?” Taehyung asks, glancing around the house. It’s modestly sized, with a living area on one side and a combined dining room and kitchen on the other. Three bedrooms and a bathroom branch off of the hallway between them, ending in a back door that leads out to the lake. Through the window, you can see the water glimmering in the sunlight, hazy and golden.

“We’ll have to share,” Jimin says. “ If Noona takes one room, that leaves two bedrooms and the pullout couch for the rest of us.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “Rock, paper, scissors?” he suggests, drawing a chorus of groans.

“I always lose!” Jimin complains. “And Taemin cheats!”

“Do not!”

Laughing at the indignant expression on your brother’s face, you decide to leave them to it and head to your bedroom with your luggage in tow. The room is just as you remember it, with a bed tucked against one wall and a dresser on the opposite. There are three doors in total—one that you just entered through, and another that opens into a small closet. The third leads to a bathroom—shared with the bedroom on the other side of the wall that usually belongs to Jimin. Vaguely, you wonder who will be sleeping there tonight, before setting your suitcase on the bed and unzipping it.

“Fuck!”

You jump at the sudden shout, poking your head out into the hallway to see what’s causing all the commotion. Yugyeom is kneeling on the floor with his head down, a crestfallen Taemin standing beside him. Meanwhile, Taehyung and Minho look supremely pleased with themselves, and you see why when they grab their bags and practically skip to the master bedroom across the hall, collapsing onto the king-sized bed.

“Have fun on the couch, losers!” Jimin singsongs, grabbing Jungkook by the wrist and dragging him into their newly won bedroom on your side of the hallway. “Lake in fifteen minutes, so get changed! Last one there’s in charge of dinner!”

The door slams shut behind him, and you roll your eyes before turning back to your opened suitcase and pulling out a book. There’s a perfectly shaded spot beneath one of the trees along the water, and you fully intend to capitalize on the last few hours of daylight before the sun begins to set.

Minho is the only one outside when you exit the house, standing on the dock in a pair of green swim trunks. He waves at you cheerily before cannonballing into the lake, and you squeak as the resulting splash sends water splattering across the front of your shirt.

“Sorry!” he calls when he resurfaces, shaking his hair out like a wet dog.

You wave off his apology with a laugh, settling down onto the soft grass at the base of your chosen tree and opening up your book. The other boys trickle out of the house one by one, but you barely notice. It isn’t until a triumphant shout pierces the air that you finally glance up to see what’s causing all the commotion, your gaze immediately landing on Taehyung standing on the back steps of the house.

“Trust me,” he says, unbothered by his apparent tardiness. “You don’t want me to make dinner.”

Minho pulls a face and straightens up from where he’d been floating on his back. “You know, he kinda has a point there.”

Murmurs of agreement all around. Taehyung gives Jimin a smug smile, who scowls from where he’s sitting at the end of the dock, his bare feet dangling over the edge. “So what now? Do we have to play rock, paper, scissors again?”

“Nah, I’ll do it.”

Every head whips around to face Jungkook, yours included. He’s standing a short ways from where you’re sitting—his approach so quiet that you hadn’t even heard him arrive. The last time you checked, he’d been diving off the dock with Minho and Yugyeom, water pooling in his collarbones and dripping down the ridges of his taut abdomen each time he resurfaced.

Not that you’d been looking, of course.

“Really?” Jimin looks aghast at his best friend’s declaration. “You can cook?”

Jungkook scoffs in disbelief and plops down beside you, leaning back against the tree trunk. “Why does everyone in your family seem surprised by that?” he asks, his lip jutting out in a petulant frown. “Do I seem like someone who can’t cook?”

“Yes,” you tell him honestly, marking your page and letting the book fall shut. “Don’t take it personally, though. Men only learn how to cook in college when they have to start fending for themselves. And sometimes, not even then.”

The noise that leaves Jungkook’s mouth can best be described as disgruntled, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he peers over your shoulder to get a look at the cover of your book, mouthing the title to himself before glancing at you. “Haven’t I seen you reading this before?”

“Probably,” you admit. “It’s an old favorite.”

He hums, slouching back against the tree again, and when you look over, you see that both his eyes have fallen shut. With his mouth parted and his dark lashes resting on his cheeks, he looks years younger than he is—and so much more like the Jungkook you used to know.

“Tired?” you whisper.

“Long drive,” Jungkook whispers back, his head already beginning to loll. “Lemme sleep, Noona.”

Smiling to yourself, you return to your book and leave him to rest.

///

“So, what are you even planning to make?” Jimin asks, swinging his legs. He’s seated atop the kitchen counter, taking up the majority of what precious little space there is to begin with, and Jungkook sighs deeply as he’s forced to dodge around him yet again to peer into the refrigerator.

“You’ll see.”

“I don’t think you even know yet,” Taemin pipes up from the doorway. The other boys are in the living room playing Mario Kart, but Taemin and Jimin have selflessly pulled themselves away from the game to help their friend in the kitchen—or so they say. As far as you’re concerned, they’ve been nothing but a nuisance thus far, but you don’t voice that particular thought aloud.

“Ramen doesn’t count as making dinner,” Jimin points out snidely when Jungkook pauses too long next to the box of ramen packs. “Anyone can boil water. And you don’t get to add an egg and call it fancy, like you usually do.”

“My ramen is delicious, excuse you,” Jungkook retorts, pointing a spatula at him. “And that’s not even what I’m making, so fuck off.”

Jimin shrugs, but shuts his mouth nonetheless. You take the opportunity to throw some pork belly at him, the meat wrapped neatly in paper and tied off with twine. “Here,” you tell him. “You could at least make yourself useful and start grilling the meat.”

“Okay, mom,” your brother grumbles under his breath, hopping off the counter. He and Taemin head out to the back porch where the grill sits, and you join Jungkook at the stove where he’s staring thoughtfully at an empty pan.

“Try twisting the dial. I’ve heard that helps.”

Jungkook snaps out of his daze and turns to you. “Huh?”

“The stove. It won’t light itself, you know.”

Chuckling, Jungkook twists the dial as instructed, adding a drizzle of oil to the pan. As it heats up, he turns and selects a knife from the cutlery drawer. The sweet potatoes he’d insisted on purchasing are already washed and peeled, and you watch as he begins to slice them, your gaze automatically flitting down to his exposed forearms, his muscles flexing with every movement.

“Hey, Noona? Can you do me a favor?”

You blink, tearing your gaze from the branching veins lining his arms. “What?”

Jungkook, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice your distracted state. “Can you put the rice in the microwave?” he asks, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Why?” you tease. “Are you still scared?”

“Of course not,” he retorts, but you don’t miss the wary look that flashes across his face when you plop the rice inside and go to punch in the cook time.

The remainder of the cooking goes smoothly. Jimin and Taemin return with the grilled meat, and Jungkook rebuffs your offer to set the table, leaving his position at the stove to lay plates and utensils down on the table himself. “I’m just about done, anyway,” he tells you, gesturing at the plate of glazed sweet potatoes on the counter. “Sit down and relax, Noona.”

“Fine,” you relent, taking a seat. Jimin takes the chair beside you, and Taemin plops down on his other side. Jungkook sits down just to your left once he’s finished laying out the food, and for a brief, insane moment, you almost think that he’s going to repeat what he’d done at his graduation dinner. But the dark-haired young man remains on his best behavior, keeping his hands to himself under the table, and you aren’t sure whether you’re grateful or disappointed.

The meal flies by in a flurry of laughter and conversation. Jungkook discovers that his glazed sweet potatoes have adhered to the plate, and sends everyone into hysterics when he promptly starts spinning it around like a steering wheel.

It’s a good night. And at the end of it, you go to bed warm and content, with a belly full of food and a smile on your face.

///

You awaken to the sound of chirping songbirds and gentle waves lapping at the shore the next morning, thoroughly rejuvenated after an undisturbed night’s sleep. Stretching your arms overhead, you yawn and bask in the comfort of your bed for a few more moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom, thankful that you don’t have to fight anyone for sink occupancy. The toilet seat is even down, which comes as a welcome surprise, all things considered.

Before long, you are back in your bedroom, rifling through the contents of your suitcase. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve packed only one swimsuit—and a bikini, at that. Cheeks warming, you pull the two pieces out, holding them up against your body. Has it always been this small? You don’t remember. All you know is that Jungkook has two fully functional eyes, and there’s no way that he won’t be looking at every inch of skin you choose to expose.

In the end, you settle on wearing the bikini beneath a flowy, floral kimono-style robe, tied at the waist to form a makeshift dress. The ensemble reaches just past your knees and is sheer enough to still show skin, but you no longer feel as self-conscious going out into the view of your companions and that’s a victory as far as you’re concerned. Checking your reflection one last time, you adjust your sash before opening the bedroom door and heading down the hall for some breakfast.

Unsurprisingly, the kitchen is empty when you walk in, tiptoeing past a still slumbering Taemin and Yugyeom on the pullout couch. You savor the quiet as you start up the old coffeemaker, pulling a mug from the cabinet and rinsing it out to get rid of any lingering dust. The weather app on your phone promises that it’ll be a clear, cloudless day, and a glance out the window confirms it. Silently, you debate whether or not to crack a window.

Your musings are interrupted by the arrival of Taehyung, his brown hair sticking up at all angles. Blearily, he trundles to the fridge and grabs the orange juice, seemingly two seconds away from chugging it straight from the carton before you clear your throat and push a clean glass toward him. You think you hear him mumble a thank you.

As the morning wears on, the others slowly begin to trickle in. Breakfast is a disorganized affair that leaves bread crumbs all over the counter, and nearly causes a fight when everyone seems to want their eggs cooked a different way.

“Look, if you wanted your egg soft-boiled, you should’ve made it yourself!” Jimin grouches to Taehyung, the t-shirt over his head muffling his words. Everyone else is already in the water, splashing about, but you’re seated on the end of the dock with your brother and Taehyung, who looks thoroughly unfazed behind his tinted sunglasses.

“Maybe if I knew how to soft boil an egg, I would have.”

“Google exists,” Jimin says, finally freeing himself from the shirt and tossing it aside.

Taehyung nods sagely. “Exactly. So why didn’t you use it?”

Jimin is beginning to look positively murderous, so when Minho swims over and taps your submerged ankle, you are beyond grateful for the distraction. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Are you gonna swim, or are you gonna sit onshore the whole time?” Minho asks, raking his wet bangs out of his eyes. “The water’s not even cold, so get in here.”

Pointedly, you wiggle your toes. “Feels pretty cold to me.”

“Okay, fine. It’s cold.” Minho grins. “But you get used to it.”

You sigh at his easy admission. “All men do is lie. How am I supposed to believe you?”

He raises a brow. “Do I need to pull you in and dunk you under?”

“I will kick you if you even try,” you tell him, standing up and shrugging off your robe. An audible hush falls as the gauzy material pools around your ankles—Jungkook stops wrestling with Yugyeom and trying to dunk him underwater, and Taemin pauses mid-splash, his hair drenched and dripping.

It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, letting loose a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, {Name}.”

Jimin grabs a shoe from the pile on the dock and chucks it at him, hard. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister!”

“Ow! What the fuck, man, that’s my shoe!”

“Quit ogling my sister!”

“I’m not!” Minho yells, just as Jimin chucks the other shoe and hits him square in the mouth. “Okay, I’m not anymore. Sorry, okay?”

Once he’s sufficiently sure that Jimin is done attacking him, Minho turns to you. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassure him. “Honestly, it was kinda good for my self-esteem. And I don’t need you defending my honor, or whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you add, glancing over at your disgruntled brother.

“Men are pigs,” Jimin sniffs. “I won’t apologize.”

You ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “I know, Chim. You’re right.” Then your smile turns mischievous. “I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do, either.”

And then you grab him by the arm and drag him into the lake, the cold water submerging you in an instant and stealing the breath out of your lungs. You’re both gasping by the time you resurface, blinking water out of your eyes, and you squeal when Jimin takes the opportunity to splash you again.

Hours pass—the sun rising higher overhead. Around noon, Taehyung disappears inside the house and returns with an assortment of snacks and sandwich fixings, ushering everyone over for an impromptu lunch on the dock. You dip your feet into the water as you munch on a bag of chips, and Jungkook plops down beside you with a juice box in one hand and a ham sandwich in the other.

“Wanna go for a ride in the canoe after lunch?” he asks, jabbing a thumb back in the direction of the house. “I found it in the garage.”

You laugh. “Really? I thought for sure we got rid of that thing. Are you sure it hasn’t sprung a leak?”

Jungkook’s face crinkles into a grin. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, huh?”

You grin back and raise your cup, the lemonade inside swishing around. “I’ll hang on to this, just in case I need to start bailing water out.”

Lunchtime winds down gradually. Jungkook polishes off his sandwich and trots off to fetch the canoe, waving off your offers to help before disappearing around the corner of the house. You watch him return a few minutes later from your seat on the end of the dock, resting your weight back on your hands and swirling your pruney toes in the water. He’s stripped off the loose white tee he’d donned during lunch, his golden skin cast in shadow by the canoe perched across his bare shoulders, and your gaze trails from his bulging biceps down to the ridges of his abdomen. The muscles flex with every step he takes, and you hastily take another sip of lemonade in an effort to combat the sudden dryness in your throat.

With a grunt, Jungkook comes to a stop at your elbow, heaving the boat into the water. The impact sends ripples across the lake and the butterflies in your belly into a frenzy, and you nearly fall off the dock when Jungkook touches your shoulder gently.

“Ready to go, Noona?”

You nod, not quite trusting yourself to speak. Jungkook holds the boat steady with one hand while offering you the other, and you gratefully grasp it as you step off the dock. The canoe rocks dangerously when Jungkook clambers in after you, but quickly steadies when he picks up an oar and jabs at the dock to push off into the lake. The glimmering expanse of blue water stretches before you, and you relax as you let your fingers dangle off the side of the boat, watching ripples form beneath your fingertips.

“I can help row,” you say after a few moments, casting a glance over at Jungkook. He’s settled into a rhythm now, the veins and tendons in his arm flexing with each movement, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he’s sitting.

“You—” Jungkook says, fixing you with a playful stare, “—just enjoy the ride, yeah?”

Shaking your head, you smile and turn back around to admire the view. Sunlight reflects off the rippling water, lending a golden iridescence to the glittering blue depths. In the distance, the opposite shoreline rises up, crowned with rocky outcrops and majestic dark green pines.

With a start, you realize how far away you’ve gotten from the other boys. The shouts and laughter from the house are quickly fading into the background, and you nervously turn to look at Jungkook as he rows you even further.

“God, my dad would freak if he saw us right now,” you remark, trying to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled. “I mean, we don’t even have life jackets. He’d lose his mind.”

Jungkook hums. He stops rowing, his hands stilling on the oars, and you’re just about to ask him what’s wrong when a warm hand glides up your thigh.

“You think you could maybe stop talking about your dad, princess?” Then he smirks. “Unless you’re into the whole daddy kink thing, because I’d be down to explore that at some point if you want—“

“Jungkook!” you hiss, scandalized.

“Yes?” the young man in question hums, his face the picture of innocence. It’s hard to muster up your vocabulary when he’s looking up at you with those wide doe eyes, but you somehow manage to prevail over your malfunctioning brain.

“We’re in public!” you whisper, glancing back at the shore where your brother and his friends have started an impromptu game of water polo.

Jungkook smirks crookedly at you. “Guess you better not scream too loud, then.”

And then, before you can open your mouth to protest—before you can even try to call his bluff—he’s slipped his hand into your bikini bottoms and found his way to your clit. Your entire body spasms when he presses into it experimentally, and the resulting snicker that escapes him is nothing short of infuriating.

“Careful,” he coos, laying his free hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing nonsensical circles into the soft skin. “Don’t wanna rock the boat, now.”

Then he returns his attention to your clit, pinching the nub just to watch you jolt in his grasp and soothing you with a gentle kiss to the knee afterward. Your skin warms beneath the plush of his lips, and the pleased smile that curves them is all the warning you get before he sheathes a single finger in your clenching core. “Jungkook—” you gasp, shoving uselessly at his bare shoulders, but you can’t keep the edge of desire out of your voice. You can’t hide the growing wetness between your legs either—wetness that he most certainly feels as he slips another finger inside, pumping into you with ease.

“God, look at you,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on the way you clench around him. “So pretty like this. So pretty, getting fucked by my fingers. I could do this all day.”

“We—we don’t have all day,” you whisper. The last syllable dissolves into a moan as Jungkook eases a third finger into your cunt, and you scrabble to ground yourself when he picks up his leisurely pace. One hand settles on the edge of the boat, your fingernails digging into the wood, while the other finds Jungkook’s bicep. His arm flexes beneath your grip with each snap of his wrist, and you keen when he crooks his fingers just right and sends stars skittering across your vision.

He knows that you’re getting close. You can tell from the growing furrow between his brows and the hard set of his jaw, and you can tell that he won’t stop until he gets you off. Concentration etches across his face, and you gasp when his thumb finds your clit again.

“Oh, fuck, Jungkook—”

“That’s it,” he rasps, digging deeper and thumbing roughly across your bundle of nerves. “Cum for me.”

And you do. With one final flick of his wrist, Jungkook sends you hurtling over the edge that he’s so effortlessly built, a cresting wave of pleasure overtaking your body and spreading through your veins. Your leg kicks out instinctively, rocking the canoe dangerously in the water, but Jungkook catches you by the ankle with his free hand and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. He shifts his weight until you’re steadied once more, and only then does he ease his fingers out of you, raising them to his mouth to lick them clean.

“Think we can sneak away so I can fuck you properly?” he asks.

Your cheeks heat up at the lewd display, warming even more when his words register in your muddled brain. “Oh my god, Jungkook.”

“That’s exactly what you’ll be saying when I really get my hands on you,” Jungkook agrees. Flashing you a mischievous grin, he drops his hand over the edge of the boat, letting the turquoise water wash away any lingering fluids. “What do you think? The backseat of my car isn’t half bad…”

“I will literally push you into this lake,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide a disbelieving laugh. “Why are you such a perv?”

“You like it,” Jungkook defends immediately. “‘Sides,” he adds, casting a wary glance at the shore where Jimin and the others are still fully engrossed in their game, “I wanna kiss you while I fuck you. It’s not as good like this.”

At that, something dangerously close to affection blooms in your belly, winding its curious tendrils around your heart. Swallowing the feeling down, you pick up one of the oars instead, handing it over to him before hefting the other. “Come on,” you murmur. “They’re gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

Jungkook hums. “Yeah. Probably.”

And then he raises the oar you just handed him, lifting it until the paddle covers both of your faces, and boldly plants a firm kiss on your mouth.

“I’ll row us back,” he declares casually when he pulls away, as if he hasn’t just stolen all the oxygen from your lungs. As if your lips aren’t burning where he’s kissed you, your cheeks hot beneath his gentle exhalations. As if you aren’t positively thrumming with the desire to pull him back in, and maybe take him up on his offer to fuck you in the backseat of his beat-up sedan.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

///

What few remaining hours of daylight you have, you decide to spend inside. Jungkook gets roped into the water polo match as soon as the two of you return to shore, and you take the opportunity to slip into the house and clean yourself up. Safely locked away in the bathroom, you strip off your damp bikini bottoms and toss them in the sink. The top follows, and you give both a quick wash, doing your best to ignore the remaining slick from your orgasm that stubbornly coats the material.

Once everything is washed and hanging up to dry, you step into the shower. Warm water soaks your hair and slides down your back, and you tilt your head back to let the spray wash your worries away, relishing in the rare moment of peace and quiet.

By the time you’ve toweled off and gotten dressed, you can hear the boys beginning to traipse back into the house. From what you can make out, they’re making dinner plans, and you poke your head out curiously when Jimin mentions you by name.

“What are you saying about me?” you ask, narrowing your eyes accusingly at your brother.

Jimin whirls around, his cherubic face a perfect picture of innocence. “Nothing! I was just talking about your fried rice and how good it is…”

“You’re trying to get me to make you dinner,” you sigh. “I knew it.”

“No, we’ll help!” your brother promises. “I swear, as soon as I get out of the shower, I’ll chop all the vegetables.”

“Sure you will,” you snort, brushing past him and heading for the kitchen.

Much to your surprise, the kitchen is already occupied when you arrive. Jungkook and Yugyeom are at the counter—the former poised with a knife at the ready, about to slice into an onion. The latter is digging through the cabinets, and both turn at the sound of your footsteps.

“Hey,” Yugyeom says. “You probably know where the bottle opener is, right?”

You nod. “Left of the sink, second drawer down.” Then you turn your attention to Jungkook, peering curiously over his shoulder. “What’s the onion for?”

“Dinner,” he replies, flashing you a crooked little smile. “We’re making fried rice, aren’t we?”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest and races to catch up, thumping erratically against your ribcage. It’s hard to ignore the warmth blossoming in your belly—near impossible to ignore the butterflies that have made a home there—but you somehow manage to school your expression into something passably neutral and busy yourself with the other vegetables on the counter. “I see Jimin got to you, too. Is the other cutting board clean?”

Jungkook nods, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the dish rack. “Washed it last night, yeah. It’s all yours, Noona.”

You hum and skirt around Yugyeom to grab the clean board and another knife. Chopping vegetables goes a lot faster with two people, and Yugyeom does his part by cracking open two bottles of beer and plunking one down next to each of you before opening a third for himself. “Hydrate,” he orders, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and taking a sip.

It doesn’t take long to finish making dinner. As promised, Jimin joins you as soon as he’s out of the shower, plucking the knife out of your hand and nudging you aside so he can finish cutting the vegetables. You fire up the stove and drizzle some oil into a pan, and smile when Taehyung brings you the container of leftover rice and a large serving bowl.

“You know what we should do?” Minho asks as you’re all sitting down to eat. Yugyeom’s opened more beers, and Jimin’s brought out the wine as well. Jungkook is spooning out fried rice for everyone, and you accept the bowl he hands you with a murmur of thanks before looking at Minho expectantly.

“What should we do?”

“Go to the beach,” he replies, tilting the remainder of his beer back into his mouth. “It’s only an hour away, isn’t it?”

“Closer to half an hour without traffic,” Jimin corrects. “But, yeah, we should go. That would be fun.”

By the time dinner is finished, you’ve finalized plans to drive down to the beach in the morning. “Remember, we’re leaving at ten,” you tell Jimin, elbowing him in the ribs. “That means you have to wake up before ten.”

“I know!” your brother whines, rubbing the spot where you elbowed him with a grimace. “Jeez, Noona. I’m good at waking up. It’s Jungkook and Tae you have to worry about.”

“Says the punk who takes hour-long showers,” you snark. “What are you gonna do when you have to pay your own water bills, huh?”

“Shower at your place,” he replies smugly. “You can’t turn me away. I’m your brother.”

“Please, that’s exactly why I can turn you away, you little mooch.”

“You love me!”

“Really? You wanna test that theory?”

The remainder of the evening passes in a blur of booze and board games, unearthed from the closet in the hall. Despite your collective agreement to go to bed early, it’s past midnight when you finally bid everyone goodnight and crawl underneath your covers. Shutting your eyes, you will your brain to settle and your limbs to relax, and you’re on the verge of drifting off when your phone suddenly buzzes. Lazily, you roll over and snatch the device off the nightstand, taking in the late hour before your eyes flit down to the new notification and go wide.

[1:02am] Jungkook: IMG_497

You freeze, thumb hovering just above the message. Even when your screen goes dark again, you can’t erase the sight of his name lighting up your phone, the attachment sitting there like a taunt. You shouldn’t open it. You can’t open it.

But curiosity gnaws at your belly, fraying the edges of your resolve. Slowly, you wake the screen, watching as Jungkook’s name fills it once more. You hesitate, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth.

And then your phone buzzes again, several times in quick succession.

[1:04am] Jungkook: i miss you, noona

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss your pretty face

[1:04am] Jungkook: miss how tight your pussy felt around my fingers

You drop the device as if scorched. It takes several moments to gather your wits again, but when you do, pick up your phone, clicking on his name and scrolling up to the attachment. In the darkness of your bedroom, you watch with bated breath as it downloads.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slips past your lips, unbidden, but you can’t help it. Jungkook stares out at you from the photograph illuminating your screen, his eyes hooded and his lips curled into a devious smirk. He’s in the shared bathroom between your bedrooms, and even though it’s dark inside, the flash of his camera is just enough to illuminate the distinctive palm tree patterned shower curtain behind him.

But, you aren’t focused on that.

No, your focus is zeroed in on the foreground of the photo, where you can perfectly make out the head of Jungkook’s cock, sticky and leaking copiously from between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you repeat, louder this time.

And as if reading your mind, another text flashes onto your screen.

[1:07am] Jungkook: wish your pretty little pussy was stretched around my cock right now, princess

You aren’t sure what possesses you to send the response you do, but your thumbs are moving before the more rational side of your brain can catch up and stop you.

[1:07am] You: why don’t you come over and make it happen then?

You’ve only just hit send when the bathroom door swings open, revealing Jungkook standing there in nothing but sweatpants. His face is illuminated in the stark white light shining from his screen, his eyes dark and his smirk even darker. Every movement drips with intent, from the way his lips quirk upward to the way he saunters over to join you on your bed, dropping his phone somewhere amongst the rumpled sheets. The room goes dark.

And then…

“Hey, princess.”

His lips are at your ear, hot breath caressing your cheeks and sending shivers down the length of your spine. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he joins you, a hand finding your bare thigh before sliding up to grasp your hip. Only an oversized t-shirt and a thin pair of cotton panties shield you from his roving fingers, and you can tell from the pleased curve of his mouth that he isn’t going to let either stand in his way. One hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, dancing along your ribcage, and you let out a breathy gasp when he trails up and skims along the soft skin just below the swell of your breasts.

“Been thinking about you all night, you know,” Jungkook whispers, pushing up your shirt and peppering kisses along every inch of newly revealed flesh. “Been thinking about how pretty you looked, cumming around my fingers, and how much prettier you’d look cumming around my cock.”

Your shirt is long forgotten by this point, tugged overhead and thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Jungkook hauls you closer, slotting himself between your spread legs, and you shiver when he presses the pad of his thumb against your clothed clit, the material uncomfortably damp as it clings to your folds.

“Jungkook—” His name escapes you in an airy whisper. “Please.”

Even in the darkness, you can see the satisfied, self-assured tilt of his lips. “Such a good girl for me,” he croons, leaning down to press a kiss to your waiting mouth. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek while the other remains between your legs, and you gasp sharply when he digs his thumb a little harder against your clit, circling the sensitive bud.

Jungkook seizes upon the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, licking into your mouth with unrestrained ardor. Your panties are peeled away, the cottony material disappearing right alongside the pressure of his thumb, and the inadvertent whine that escapes you has him chuckling darkly in his throat.

“What is it, princess?” Jungkook rasps, his voice dipping several pitches. “You have to tell me what you want, remember?”

You clutch at his wrist weakly, tugging it back between your legs until he finally indulges you and resumes his lazy revolutions around your clit. “Want you,” you whisper. “Want you inside me.”

Jungkook lets out a pleased hum, rewarding you with a single finger that he slips into your sopping entrance, your juices aiding the smooth glide as he curls it up in search of the spot that’ll have you seeing stars. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree shakily. “But it looks like you are, so why don’t you let me help you out?”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his lips ghosting across the swell of your cheek. “Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you plan on helping me?”

Slowly, you reach down, letting your fingers graze the sizable bulge in his sweatpants. “You said it yourself, didn’t you? Me, stretched around your cock?”

A low groan escapes him when you give him a firm stroke, your fingers barely meeting around his length. “On your back,” he commands hoarsely, nudging you backward until you’re nestled into your pillows. Freeing his erection from the confines of his sweatpants, he settles comfortably between your spread legs, the mattress groaning in protest at the shift in weight.

“Wait,” you whisper, grabbing his wrist. “Did you hear that?”

His face scrunches in confusion. “Hear what?” he asks, as if he’s never heard that particular string of words before. “Are you sure it wasn’t just—”

He stops mid-sentence, and you both hear it again—the unmistakable creaking of bedsprings from next door. “Shit!” you hiss, scrambling back on the mattress until you’re nearly pressed against the headboard. “Oh, god. That’s Jimin. He’s going to kill you if he finds you in here—”

On the other side of the wall, the door to the shared bathroom opens, the light flickering on and illuminating the crack beneath your door. You hear your brother cursing sleepily under his breath as the toilet lid clatters open, and nearly shove Jungkook off the bed in your haste to get him out of your room.

“You have to go,” you whisper frantically, herding him toward the door that leads out into the hall.

Jungkook hurriedly pulls his pants back over his hips, and you can practically see him willing his erection to go away. “What am I supposed to say if he asks?”

“I don’t know! Pretend you were going for a glass of water or something!”

With a final push, you shove him out of your bedroom, leaning against the door with a relieved sigh when it clicks shut behind him. You hear Jungkook shuffle off just as Jimin flushes, and cast a prayer up to any deities that may exist as you listen to him wash his hands. And it seems your prayers are answered, as quiet descends over the house once more. Off in the distance, you think you hear Minho snoring.

Letting out another sigh, you return to bed, crawling beneath the covers and getting comfortable. And when sleep finally takes you, you dream of Jeon Jungkook.

[pascalpanic]

Picture Perfect (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Summary: You reflect on a perfect vacation with Marcus.

Warnings: language, talk of flying in planes, mentions of food, implied sexual content and sexual flirting

W/C: 3.6k

A/N: happy Easter loves!!! I really adore this fic and hope you guys do too! It’s part of the Beyond the Sea series I’m writing with the lovely @mandoalorian

Beyond The Sea Masterlist

You never thought you’d see the day when Agent Marcus Pike relaxed for more than a few hours at a time. Luckily, your hand holds three Polaroids, all of them proof of the wonderful week of rest and recharging the two of you just experienced. The plane is leaving now, the islands of Hawaii behind you and endless ocean outside of your plane window. Marcus is snoozing softly, head pressed to your shoulder, and you press a kiss to his beautiful temple. This is the man who holds all of your heart in his hands, and you’ve never been so sure that someone would protect it with their life.

He stirs at the sensation and you chuckle quietly. The roar of the airplane’s pressurized cabin makes everything quieter, and you smile as those brown eyes flutter open. “Just me. Love you. Go back to sleep, babe,” you murmur, and he complies, eyes slipping shut as he nuzzles closer. You look down at your hands again, at the three Polaroids.

The first photo makes you giggle. It was taken the first full day the two of you had in town. Marcus holds a tiny crab in his hands, a look of wonder on his sun-kissed face. He’s shirtless and crouched down, wet sand packed beneath him and patterned swim trunks bringing color to the photo.

The second photo melts your heart. Marcus lies in a hammock in the Polaroid, asleep in the shade. Stripes of light peek through palm fronds, illuminating bits of your boyfriend’s warm body. He wears board shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt, his normally gelled hair forming soft waves. The sun you’ve spent your days in lightened it, leaving light brown and even blonde streaks in the top layer. A soft pink covers his nose and cheeks- a result of the sun as well. His ukulele is lying next to him in the hammock.

The third photo makes you tear up at the memory. Two dark silhouettes- one clearly yours and one clearly his- are just outlined against an orange, sunset-colored sky.

-

You and Marcus arrived at your condo late at night, tired after the long flights, both cross-country and then across the Pacific Ocean. You’d flown first-class, Marcus insisting he spoil you. It was comfortable, but the pressure of the cabin made your body ache and your joints swell. It was impossible to sleep, even with him to use as a pillow.

The first morning, Marcus rises late: it’s about 10 A.M. local time, and he sighs as he finds you still snoring next to him. You look so peaceful and sweet that he can’t bring himself to wake you.

For the next half hour, he sits on the condo’s porch, overlooking the water. He smiles softly as the occasional breeze passes through, noticing that the air slowly warms.

When you finally wake, you wander out to find Marcus on the balcony. You gasp in excitement as you see the rushing surf. “Oh my god,” you grin and wrap your arms around him from behind. “It’s so gorgeous.”

“Good morning to you too,” he teases as his hands rest on your arms. “Isn’t it though?” He leans back against you, watching the seagulls play in the splashing water. “How did you sleep?” He asks, still eyeing the sprawling ocean. There’s a small reef a few yards from the shore, shallow enough to walk in.

You notice it too. “Good. Can we make some coffee then go explore those little tidal pools?” You ask excitedly as you point at them, resting your chin atop Marcus’s chocolate-brown bed head.

“Of course,” he chuckles, turning to kiss the side of your face. “It’s the perfect time to get some sun, too. We’ll get our swim gear on.”

You press a soft kiss into the top of his head, smiling contentedly at the ocean and Marcus’s steady breathing beneath your arms.  “I love you,” you practically sing to him, overwhelmed by the happiness of the morning.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” he murmurs back and turns to kiss you softly.

Twenty minutes later, each of you finished with one cup of coffee and changed into your bathing suits, you head down to the water and wade in. You squeal as the cold water laps at your ankles, your pink Polaroid camera hanging around your neck. One hand clutches at the pink plastic, lifting it instinctually to keep it dry. Marcus laughs and takes your free hand, the two of you commenting on the water and the sun as you wander to the rocky shoals a few yards out.

The volcanic rock in front of you is filled with holes and crevices, and it’s teeming with life. Marcus’s eyes widen in excitement as he sees a tiny crab. “Oh my god,” he laughs. “Look at this little guy!”

Walking closer, the crab doesn’t scuttle away. “Oh, do you want to be friends?” Marcus coos, squatting down.

“Careful of the waves, babe,” you remind him, a hand on his spine, between those gorgeously thick shoulder blades. “Don’t wanna get a concussion.”

Marcus shakes his head, absolutely beaming as he scoops up the little crab. “Oh, aren’t you the sweetest thing,” he mumbles to it, admiring its brown shell and tiny claws. “You remind me of that guy from Moana.”

Of course your boyfriend would draw that connection. He mutters the lyrics to Shiny from the movie to the crab as he turns to face you, holding it up. “Look, this is our baby now.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Well, I suppose our child needs a name,” you chuckle, daring to stroke the back of the crab’s shell. It snaps its little claws in return, grabbing at nothing in the air.

“Well, how about the crab from Moana? The Tamatoa?” He asks. The little thing’s claws are clacking rhythmically to some inaudible beat.

“Hmm.” You think about it for a moment, lifting the camera and snapping a photo of Marcus holding the tiny crab. “It’s a snippy little thing. Maybe we should name it Teresa,” you snort, laughing to yourself at your own joke.

Marcus frowns. “No, I like it much more than her. You’re our little Tamatoa, aren’t you?” He coos, holding it up to give it a little kiss on the back of his shell.

Classic, typical Marcus. Giving all of his love with no regard for his own safety. You almost see it in slow motion as the tiny crab snips the tip of Marcus’s nose. “Motherfucker,” he cries at the feeling, setting the crab back down immediately.

It makes you laugh much harder than you should. Leaning onto your boyfriend’s tanning skin, you wheeze out laugh after laugh. He joins you too.

When you both finally settle down and catch your breath, you giggle up at Marcus. “Okay, so that little shit was definitely a Teresa.”

Marcus laughs this time, giving you a brief kiss. “You are the absolute love of my fucking life, baby,” he chuckles and the two of you continue your walk.

-

Marcus has always been an early riser, and you forgot to close the shades last night before you passed out in the ridiculously plush bed. The early sunrise warms Marcus’s face until he wakes. He rolls over with a yawn and a stretch before kissing the side of your face. You grunt. “Hi.”

“Good morning, angel,” Marcus’s soft voice coos to you, an arm snaking around your middle. “The sunrise looks beautiful. Want to see?”

“No,” you frown. “Wanna sleep more.”

Marcus pouts, kissing your forehead. “Baby.”

“Fine,” you groan, the sleep starting to wear off anyway. “Only because I love you so much. And because I love your dick and don’t want it withheld from me this week,” you tease, sitting up and kissing him softly.

“Yeah yeah,” he laughs and stands, wandering over to the large window in the bedroom.

Your eyes widen at the beauty as you see the gorgeous colors of the sky. The sunrise is behind you, but the horizon is still shifting in hue, pinks and purples and oranges with the dark blue slowly fading away. Marcus wraps his arms around you as you stand next to him. “See. This wasn’t so bad to get out of bed for.”

Nodding, you rest your head against his chest. “I suppose it wasn’t. I’ll go make us coffee,” you murmur and press a kiss to his bare pec, giving his ass a light squeeze as you walk past him.

The two of you make your plans for the day over the coffee, discussing your options and ultimately choosing that today would be the perfect day to find a secluded little beach and just relax in the sun. They wouldn’t be hard to find around here: unlike other places you’d been, it seemed like the shore was endlessly beach.

Parking in a free lot, locking your ragtop Jeep behind you, you and Marcus wander down the beach for a while until you find the perfect spot. How did you know? Marcus spotted the perfect marker: a hammock.

Tied between two palm trees, under the shade of the fronds, was a woven hammock. It had no pillows, blankets, no one around and no belongings. Marcus decided it was yours now- or at least for the day.

The white sand is warm beneath your feet, flying out as Marcus chases you. You’d stolen his sunglasses just moments ago and now you’re running. “Get back here!”

“Only if you fuck me right here and right now!” You teasingly call over your shoulder.

Marcus stops, as if he’s considering it. You do too. Then he picks up into a faster run. “There’s too much sand for that, you little shit!”

Giggling, you stop and let Marcus crash into you, his warm body slick from the tanning oil he’d slathered on. You naturally wrap your arms around his neck. Marcus plucks the sunglasses from your head and puts them back on. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Pikey,” you tease and kiss him softly as his arms wrap around your waist. That was the name you’d called him when you first met, when you were young, up-and-coming interns for the FBI.

The two of you wander back, lying on your beach towels for hours and absorbing the warm rays. You and Marcus snack on some packed food, staring out into the ocean and chatting. It’s absolutely perfect.

Marcus is ever the early riser. You’re usually the one to end up taking a nap if the last night of sleep didn’t satisfy you or Marcus woke you up for some godforsaken reason. As he lies next to you, though, you hear a yawn slip from his lips. “Sorry, what was that?” You clarify teasingly.

Marcus scowls. “I get tired too.”

“Bullshit,” you laugh. “Do you want to go cuddle in the hammock?” You ask, and he nods as he sits up.

Marcus is wearing just his board shorts, but there’s a cool breeze in the shade. He tosses on his Hawaiian shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. He looks so effortlessly cool, that brown hair starting to get slightly wavy from the salty air. His sunglasses sit just slightly lower on the bridge of his aquiline nose, and it makes you grin. You toss a t-shirt on as well, and you grin as you realize Marcus opens his ukulele case.

“I knew you’d use it,” you grin at him as he settles in the hammock. He’d debated bringing it along, contemplating the hassle, but you’d told him he practically had to- you’re in Hawaii, after all. You scoot in next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“Will you play me a song by Abba?” You ask him softly, the rush of the ocean and the wind filling your ears.

Marcus nods and kisses your forehead before giving the strings a strum to test some chords. He finally starts playing a soft version of Andante Andante, and your eyes slip shut. His voice is so beautiful and soothing, and you can’t help but quietly sing along.

“I’m your music… I’m your song…

Play me time and time again, make me strong…”

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, ever prayed to whatever being up there that you’d meet the right person for you someday. He’s soft and warm and strong. He’s protective but gentle and the most caring man to ever walk the face of the earth.

Marcus starts noodling around on the ukulele, playing some random chords and notes. “I love you so much,” you sigh and snuggle in tighter against him.

He puts down the ukulele and wraps his arms around you, kissing your temple gently. “I love you too, baby. So much, endlessly.” He’s so perfectly cozy that you cuddle on top of him, and he welcomes the position. He wraps his arms around your body and kisses your neck.

The two of you stay cuddled up like that, tired from the long day in the sun, for quite a while. Before long, you recognize the different breathing pattern Marcus has slipped into- sleep. Smiling softly, you allow yourself to remain nuzzled into your boyfriend’s body for a while longer.

After some time, you sigh and realize you should probably wake him and return to the condo. The sun is starting to sink lower in the sky: not enough to be sunset, but enough to know what’s approaching. Careful not to wake him, you clamber out of the hammock and grin at the image. It’s too perfect.

You grab your Polaroid and snap the photo: Marcus is asleep, sunglasses fallen down his nose, Hawaiian shirt open, ukulele next to him. The hammock sways in the breeze, peeks of light from between palm leaves shining down on him. You giggle when the photo develops and it’s the sound of your laughter that wakes him. “Huh?” He groans, sitting up and losing his balance as he realizes his resting spot is moving.

You walk over on your knees, the sand moving with you and allowing you to do so. You kiss him gently for a moment before breaking away. “You fell asleep, love. It’s just about time to head back to the condo.”

“How long?” He asks groggily, pushing up his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes.

“You were only out for about half an hour,” you assure him and rub his arm.

His eyes are still closed but he smiles at that. “I heard you take that Polaroid,” he chuckles, and pulls you in for another kiss that muffles your noise of defeat.

-

Two days later, you can hear Marcus singing along to his music in the shower as you get ready for the evening. Sitting at the vanity in the suite’s luxurious bathroom, you apply your makeup, opting to keep things light. You wear a nice outfit and fidget with your appearance in the mirror, touching little things here and there.

A few minutes later, Marcus wanders out with a towel around his waist, his skin reddened from the hot shower. “Hey. You look… amazing,” he grins as he looks at you, taking in the sight. “I can’t compete.”

You grin and walk closer, putting a hand on his warm skin. “It’s a good thing it’s not a competition,” you tease, faces close together. “You’re going to look wonderful too.” You kiss him softly for a moment before he breaks away to get dressed.

The sun is above the horizon, just about to sink into sunset. Fuck, Marcus thinks to himself as he realizes he needs to move quickly. He puts on the nice outfit he’d picked earlier, messing with his hair in the mirror. Not more than few minutes later, he’s back at your side. “Ready?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You hurried.”

Marcus shrugs, pursing his lips and shaking his head. You know that look, you’ve known it since the very first time he did it. He’s terrible at bluffing. Something is hidden behind those eyes. “Just… don’t wanna miss sunset,” he murmurs and kisses you on the cheek, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You’d planned on dinner at a luxurious restaurant located within a fancy hotel, but Marcus insisted that you’d be at the beach for the sunset. When you finally reach the resort, you wander through the gorgeous surroundings until you find the white sand beach in front of you.

Marcus walks with one hand in yours, the other in his pocket. He’s quieter than normal, holding back his remarks about the wildlife and gorgeous architecture of the buildings.

There’s a small gazebo just off the sand, and Marcus walks you up. “Well… surprise,” he chuckles, showing you the little shelter. It’s strung with twinkling lights and white gauze, the ocean’s breeze rippling the fabric. There’s a table with a white cloth covering it, champagne glasses at the ready and flowers sat in the center.

“I thought you said we were eating at the restaurant,” you exclaim but laugh in surprise, setting your purse and Polaroid camera next to the chair.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. “Well, they offered this. How could I choose the restaurant when we could have dinner in our own little private gazebo?” He chuckles. “They won’t start the service for a little while. Want to go walk on the beach a little longer?”

“Marcus,” you coo and take his arm, wrapping both of your arms around it. “You’re the most romantic man on the face of the earth.”

He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. “Only for you. Come on, let’s walk.”

The two of you stroll along, the gorgeous sunset behind the dark and rolling ocean. The breeze rustles Marcus’s hair, and you grin as you see it happen. “This is… amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” he mumbles and nudges you with his shoulder, making you stumble to the side and laugh. “Can I ask you something?”

Looking up at him, you breathe out a small laugh. “When have you ever asked first?” You tease him, but you stop when he stops walking.

His hand squeezes yours a little tighter and he moves so you’re no longer standing side-to-side but facing each other. He takes both of your hands. “You know how much I love you. I really can’t imagine you wouldn’t, because I know you love me just the same.”

Your brain flies a mile a minute as he starts talking. It sounds too planned, not at all the spontaneous man your Marcus is and has always been. Wait-

“You are, without a doubt, the best thing in my life. I’ve been burned by love before, but you’re everything I’ve ever needed. You’re the only one who has ever reassured me and calmed me and silenced that endless buzzing of fear in my head. I know you’d never leave me, and I hope you know I’d never leave you.”

“Marcus,” you whisper, and your eyes well with tears as he falls to one knee in the soft sand, his own eyes shimmering with tears.

“And, if it’s alright with you, I want to promise you I’ll never leave you. I want to make it so official that nothing can ever separate us, not time or distance or anything. And I figured the best way to do that is, well… fuck, I messed it up,” he winces.  “I had all the words, I swear-“

“Just ask me the question, baby,” you laugh, the tears falling down your face. You know what’s coming now, as he reaches into his pocket and presents you with a velvet box.

He opens it and inside is the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen. It suits you. Of course it does: Marcus knows you better than you know yourself. You can tell when you look into his eyes that no one else ever would or could know you like he does.

He stutters for a moment before you fall to your knees in the sand in front of him. “It’s okay, you know what I’m gonna say,” you say quietly, cupping his face with both hands. “Just… say it. Please.”

He bites his lip then looks into your eyes. “Will you marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him happily. “Yes, Marcus Pike. I will marry you. I love you so much,” you murmur in between kisses.

“I’m so pathetic,” he laughs as the happy tears trail down both of your faces, him sitting back on his heels and you following suit.

“Oh shut up,” you laugh and hold out your left hand. Marcus takes the ring from the small box and slides it onto your finger, grinning as he notices it fits just right.

Swallowing hard, you laugh at the fact that your makeup must be trailing down your face. Marcus wipes the tears with one large hand, his other cupping yours and admiring the way the ring looks against your skin. He kisses your knuckles and you giggle uncontrollably.

“I get to be Mrs. Pikey now,” you grin and he nods.

“Of course. I mean, if you want to take my name. You don’t have to,” he rushes, shaking his head and blowing a raspberry. “I didn’t even think about that really, just figured that you’d tell me what you wanted first.” His words are a blur of relief, the anxiety fading from his body.

“Marcus,” you laugh softly, your hands cupping his face once more. “It’s okay. Just… relax,” you laugh as one of his hands covers yours, his fingers slotting between yours.

He nods. “I think I finally can now,” he chuckles and kisses you one last time.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @sugarontherims

[dixonsmonroe]

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 1

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mention of assault, murder, non-graphic death scenes, sexual themes, oral (m receiving), smut, brief mentions of possible infidelity, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: Sorry for the bad summary, I’ve never been good at those! This first chapter doesn’t include an awful lot of Lee but the next part will be very Lee heavy! There will only be two other parts for this mini-series, maybe another or so if I extend my ideas.

Enjoy!

The baby she held on her hip just would not stop crying. Tears stained her own eyes as she felt at her ropes end looking at her baby's red face. Nothing she had done to make her baby feel better was working. When Y/n stared at her small face, the one that looked so much like her father's, she searched for a clue on what could be the problem. All she got back was a look of anguish. She wondered if her daughter's eyes mirrored her own emotion.

"What's wrong baby? What's wrong?" She asked as if she was genuinely going to get an answer from her. Her soft voice didn't assuage the baby's cries. What baby doesn't love the sound of their own mother's voice?

Y/n tried stroking her little girls back to calm her, tried feeding her, burping her, changing her, and putting her down to sleep but all of those things failed miserably. Her daughter continued to scream her little lungs out. The tears were beginning to dry up, but she still wailed. Y/n worried if something was wrong and if they needed to go to the hospital. Her husband wasn't home and she didn't want to cause anymore trouble for him, or herself.

"Are you hot? Wanna step outside?"

She did her best to open the backdoor without dropping her daughter. The rush of cool air as she stepped onto the back porch did more to help her than it did her daughter. The porch light was nearly as loud as the cries; it was one of the first noises she had heard in hours that was something other than her daughter. She got lost in the noise as she peered into the darkness of their backyard that stared back at her. She had been afraid of the dark when she was younger, always needing a night light until she reached her teen years. It was safe here in Brewer Heights, but something about the vast darkness gave her a creeping feeling. It felt endless.

The night air was doing nothing to help her anymore, and she worried that her neighbors would hear the baby cries and think something was terribly wrong.

"Let's go inside."

The songs she often sang to her daughter that her own mother sung to her when she was younger normally made her giggle and smile. Tonight, however, it was just another thing to add to the list of things that failed to calm her down.

Around midnight she finally heard the front door opening and the heavy footsteps of her husband trudging into their home. A groan followed when he heard the sounds of his daughter crying pierce the air.

"Lee," Y/n exasperated. She came out of nowhere, blindsiding him and begging, "please take her."

Lee didn't even get a second to take his jacket off, nor was he going to be able to relax like he had planned to after his long day. This situation paled in comparison to what he had to deal with at the station today. A domestic dispute, a robbery, a bar fight that ended in a stabbing, and hefty loads of paperwork that came along with it.

"She just won't stop crying Lee."

He said nothing to Y/n as he eyed her. Y/n understood what the look he gave her meant, but she was too concerned with making the crying stop. Lee held his arms open to take the girl into his arms.

"What's wrong darlin'?" He cooed at her. He held her close, snuggling her into him and his warmth

Lee had to temper his annoyance. He didn't want to come home to a screaming baby and a helpless wife, but he was weakened by the desperation radiating off of Y/n.

"What's wrong little girl? You like givin' your mama hell?"

Y/n sighed as the screams began to die down. The sinking feeling that she was an awful mother for not being able to get her baby to calm down was present. The worst thought to cross her mind was that Lee also thought the same. She didn't want to be the wife who couldn't raise her own child and was too dependent on her husband. Lee was admittedly more present in child rearing than her own father. However, she had only started becoming so fussy in the last few months when her father decided to run for Mayor and spent more time at work than at home with his family.

When their girl was born, Lee spent an eternity staring at her face; her features were so similar to his at a young age, but with her mother's lips. Hours after her existence in this word, Lee promised his wife would be home more, maybe he'd even hire a few new officers to handle the countless petty crimes that end up on his desk. Y/n believed his promise, but it changed when he out of nowhere declared that he was going to run for mayor.

"You enjoy being the sheriff's wife. I'm certain you'd love being the mayor's wife even more. And now that we got a baby, my chances are even better."

All of her years of being Lee's wife and she never heard him express any interest in being mayor. Sure he got off on power of any type, but he never uttered the words "mayor" unless he was talking about some trouble the mayor's son ran into. But Lee did always make it clear that his career and maintaining his position was a top priority for him. Y/n often missed the man who did his best to court her and was successful after a few failed attempts. He changed a bit when they started trying for a child, but Y/n could always see it in his face that his old habits will die with him.

"She misses her father."

Lee didn't turn around to acknowledge her. He just rocked his daughter back and forth, ignoring Y/n until she began to move out of the living room.

"Be ready when I get up there," Lee called to her.

Y/n wondered how harsh he would be, or if he would be at all? When he was this on edge he liked to keep Y/n in line; he couldn't go to a stressful work environment and come home to the same. He was always gentle with their daughter and that's all that mattered. Y/n could endure his brutality, but her daughter did not deserve it when she just didn't understand much. She would be too young to remember anything but Y/n would never forget.

She washed up in the bathroom, wiping away the sweat and tears that had clung to her face throughout the day. Her appearance in the mirror looked foreign to her. Her body had changed since giving birth, something that was expected, but she looked more rugged due to stress. Lee didn't realize that whatever he felt, Y/n felt it even harder. When he ices her out, she tries to understand but the feelings of inadequacy had piled up inside of her.

Lee put their daughter to bed without much trouble. She looked so peaceful, a stark difference from the screaming she was doing when he stepped into their home. He wondered how such a sweet little thing could cause so much hell. She was completely innocent yet she made her mama cry and nearly tear her hair out. Lee felt bad for his wife having to spend days alone without help, but there was nothing he could do about it, so he didn't feel that bad.

He was still in his jacket and hat when he finally came into their bedroom. He was well-intentioned on taking a longer shower tonight but he felt all worked up. His body felt tense, but seeing his wife sitting obediently on the bed made him loosen up.

"Pretty, little nightgown," Lee whispered to himself. Y/n's face burned at his compliment. She'd never get used to him being sweet on her.

Y/n held her breath, unsure of which side of Lee she was going to get tonight. She picked out the cream nightie that reached mid-thigh. She knows just how much Lee loves her legs, he has fawned over them since they were dating, and she hoped that the sight of them would make him go easy on her. Her nipples poked through her nightgown; she was going to be leaking in the morning but her only concern was giving Lee something that would make him soften up.

She melted into the palm that was placed on her cheek. He looked down at her, his ego still stronger than ever. He was a powerful man with a strong possibility to grasp even more power, and a pretty fucking wife. He's lucky that she gave him the time of day when she had the option to run off to Cincinnati with a pretty boy. Lee was older than her other suitors, but that's what made him enticing to her then 20 year-old self.

"I overheard Phil talking about the Sheriff's wife today," Lee began to stroke her cheek as she purred up at him, "was wonderin' why a stunner like her was with a fat bastard."

"Don't call yourself that," she cut him off. He had gained a significant amount of weight since he began finding solace in sweets. She feels bad because it began when she was three months pregnant and had him bring her back something sweet everyday. Her cravings turned into his, but the difference was that hers went away after giving birth but Lee's never did. Besides, Y/n found it endearing. Maybe it's just because she's wildly in love with her husband, but she couldn't deny how much she loved to feel the weight of his belly on her back when he took her from behind and pressed her face against the bed.

"You're so sensitive, Y/n. You think I give a damn about what a man who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months has to say about me? He was right about one thing though," Lee began to unzip his work pants, "I do have a pretty wife with a pretty mouth too."

Y/n's face burned and her eyes moved away from his. Years of marriage, a baby later, and she was still bashful when he made such sexually charged comments.

Lee pulled himself out of his pants. He was hard, the tip dripping with pre-cum. From the look of it, he had probably been hard since the late hours of his work shift. Y/n hoped that he thought of her, she always did, but she knew that station was littered with smut magazines; Lee didn't see too fond of them though.

Y/n wrapped her hand around him and gave him a light squeeze just to feel how hard he was. He grunted and more pre-cum seeped from his tip. He was going to make a mess of her gown and exposed thighs if she didn't get him in her mouth.

"Good girl...always so good for me," he sighed in content.

He placed his hand on the back of her head and she welcomed him deeper into her mouth. Moments like this and all of his stress goes away. There is no county to oversee, no mayoral election, and no whispers; just his wife's wet mouth and something else that's wet between her legs. He felt at home inside of her. She sucked on him harder and his hips stuttered. Y/n did her very best to please him, to make him proud. His sweet little wife looked so wicked with his cock in her mouth.

"You keep that up and I'm going to fall over," he said through his pants.

Y/n looked up at him with innocent eyes. She was far from that when they were alone in their marriage bed. Y/n was anything Lee needed her to be, even without asking.

Lee grabbed ahold of her head and started to thrust into Y/n's mouth. She kept herself still, letting him take control of her. Her tongue applied pressure to the bottom of his shaft. His hips bucked as he lightly fucked her face until he was cumming into her mouth. She gagged when the liquid first splashed against the back of her throat, but she quelled herself and swallowed him completely, just how he likes.

"Let me see," she stuck her tongue out to show him that his seed was no longer in her mouth and he smirked, "good girl." He patted the top of her head and zipped himself back up.

"I'll be in bed soon, but don't wait up for me."

He could see how her body was begging for rest just in the way she lazily moved and the tiredness in her eyes. She wakes up before him every morning to make him breakfast, thus making her days longer than his. She didn't get up to much like he did, but long hours of nothing had probably dulled her. It was even worse when you add a screaming baby to the situation.

Y/n wanted to wait for Lee to come back to bed despite him advising against it. However, as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. There were no sad cries from her daughter and no worrying about where Lee.

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

The sound of sizzling bacon in the cast iron skillet and percolator going in off was louder than Lee’s footsteps coming down the stairs in his heavy boots and jacket. He paused in the doorway, his daughter the only one to notice his presence in the room. A smile formed on his face as she squealed in delight and reached her arms out for him. Y/n looked over her shoulder to see her looking at Lee. She’s surprised that he came down for breakfast later than usual, but she was happy to see that he seemed to be in good spirits.

"You're going to be uncomfortable eating breakfast in that."

"I might not be able to stay for breakfast,” he tutted while smoothing the downy hairs on his daughter’s head.

Y/n furrowed her brow, but didn't protest. She continued with breakfast anyway. She felt Lee’s presence next to her as he pulled a teething ring out of the freezer. There were two little teeth coming in that contributed to last night's meltdown. She was much happier this morning after a good sleep; she was so oblivious to the world and everything happening around her.

The phone rang disrupting their regular morning routine. It was 7 am, too early for anyone to be calling. Lee picked it up anyway; his face first confused then sullen. Y/n couldn't help but try to eavesdrop when Lee turned away from the kitchen and walked away as far as the cord would allow him. Surely whatever he was talking about on the phone, he would tell Y/n. He always complained about whoever he had talked to on the phone. But, he had become more secretive since he entered the mayor’s race. He didn’t want her to worry, or worse, go around blabbing to one of her girlfriend’s or her parents about something Lee told her in confidence. Besides most of it was information that he didn’t think would interest her.

"Alright...I'll talk to you soon...take care."

Y/n busied herself with cooking again to cover up her nosiness. Lee stepped back in the room spilling the moment he put the phone back on the hook.

"People in town are talking."

"About what?"

"About me."

There was something about the way he talked to her that made Y/n believe he wasn’t telling the complete truth, or that the talking town was something much worse. 

Y/n was not fully aware of Lee’s reputation when she had met him. She knew of him, and also wondered why a man like him was talking to her when she was fit for being a housewife at the time. Over time she learned that Lee didn't have the cleanest reputation. Little bits and pieces would be revealed to her, but by the time she heard the most damning things about him the two were already married; and the information came from Lee himself. While Y/n didn’t want to concern herself with what others thought about Lee, she absolutely did. His position depended on what people thought about him. Y/n believed that their marriage and the birth of their daughter made people see Lee in a different light. Y/n was a very nice, bright girl from a good family. She turned Lee into a family man and a man who doted on his baby girl and treated his wife sweeter than people expected from him. Whispers about him had gotten quieter when her belly became visible under her dresses. No one looked at Lee with contempt or worry anymore, they gazes softened when they saw him walking with his waddling wife.

Shortly after Lee became her boyfriend, Y/n began to hear about some of the rumors that followed Lee throughout the years. She had been told he was corrupt, frequented a local brothel, and turned a blind eye as long as he got something out of it. She was so naive to believe that people were just jealous of her. There were some women who wanted the sheriff from themselves. A year or two into her marriage, Lee began to confide in her about some things. It would only happen when he was drunk. He'd say a thing and Y/n would ask him to elaborate and he would. Covering up murders, drug deals, and allowing the brothel to stay open as long as he "got a sample" was all true. No one else in the town knew the extent of his troubling choices while on the job. Y/n didn't know what to say. He had done bad things, but he was her husband, she took an oath.

Y/n often imagined what would happen if she had told someone about his confessions. He was already the sheriff when they got married, and who would cross the sheriff? She believed that if she ever said anything he'd divorce her, spread lies about her, and she'd end up an outcast. Her options were very few especially now that she has a young child. Her fear and her devotion to him as a wife kept her silent. She has loved Lee since their third date; she wasn't going to throw her life away with him over her husband’s business that didn’t concern her. They made a promise to each other in front of family, friends, and God. Lee's burdens would become hers, and the same goes for Lee's darkness.

"Someone's been sayin that one of the girls' at that whore house been sayin' I beat her."

Lee seemed to explain it to her with ease, like he knew it wasn't true, but Lee was a good liar.

"Well, did you?"

"Why would you ask something like that?"

Lee started towards her and Y/n partially expected him to chastise her. He wouldn't do anything with their daughter a few feet away from them, she assured herself.

"You really think I'm stepping into a whore house when I come home to you every night?" His arms wrapping around her waist made Y/n smile. This is what Lee did often to deter her from asking many more questions, and it always worked, she melted right into his arms. "The last time I was in that place was to arrest someone for causing a fight, and it damn sure wasn't a whore I roughed up."

Y/n wasn't satisfied with the answer, but she nodded as if she was. She knew not to question him after he had given her an answer he deemed fit. No woman wants to believe that their husband would be at a brothel getting “serviced”. She never found signs of another woman on Lee's clothes or his car. All she'd come across was dirt on the bottom of his pants and candy wrappers in his car. "You've got to believe me Y/n." His eyes spoke the truth, she believed. Y/n pecked his lips and Lee’s arms dropped from her waist.

"Sorry I can't stay for breakfast, but if I want to get back home earlier then I have to go in early. You two girls have fun together," Lee kissed Y/n's lips again before walking over to his daughter and kissing her forehead. She giggled when she felt his lips on her head. He was happy to see her in a better mood, but he didn't want a repeat of last night, "don't give your mama such a hard time today, okay? If I hear you been bad, I'm gonna have to put you in baby jail." She had no idea what he was saying, she just enjoyed hearing her daddy's voice.

"Be safe Lee. Please."

He nodded at her sympathetically before leaving. She heard his patrol car rev up and he was pulling out of the driveway. Y/n worries so much, but every night Lee has come home to her without a scratch on him.

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

Paul Sullivan has been the mayor for as long as Y/n could remember. He’s getting up and age but he’s a very beloved man. His popularity made Y/n worry about Lee’s own chances. The only thing that could knock the man down was his son’s reckless behavior. Darrel Sullivan was a few years younger than Lee and had a penchant for hard liquor and trouble. When his name started being involved in almost weekly bar fights, people started to wonder how a man as good as Paul could raise a son like that?

Lee had used the mayor’s trouble kid to his advantage. It just so happened that once Lee decided to run, Darrel ran into even more trouble. The last offense ended him up with a three month jail sentence (of course his father was responsible for such a lower number of months he spent in jail). A baggy of cocaine was found in his car. When did the mayor’s son escalate to cocaine when his vice had only been alcohol for years?

“It was bound to happen at some point. That boy’s brain is so used to booze that he had to turn to something much harder.”

The talk of the town had satisfied Lee for weeks after the arrest.

Y/n didn’t have to be told by him to know that the cocaine wasn’t Darrel’s and that it was planted. She felt bad for Darrel, but he wasn’t so nice to women so maybe some time in jail would do him and everyone around him some good. Still, Y/n was sort of shocked to see what lengths her husband would go to win. He often played dirty to get what he wanted, but messing with the mayor’s son who has evaded so much trouble was a very close call. Lee was lucky that he got away with it and many people didn’t have questions about it.

That phone Lee received this morning spooked her a bit. No one has ever called just to say there were rumors about him. It was a much bigger problem than her husband wanted to let on.

Y/n did her best to campaign upon Lee’s behalf. She’d tell all the girls at the salon about the newest dress Lee bought her and let the strangers know who stopped to tell her kid was cute just who her father was. Her efforts didn’t go unnoticed either. Her closest girlfriends were always eager to tell her that they overheard someone talking about how wonderful Lee’s wife and daughter are. Y/n believed that she wasn’t going to have to do much more than that, but some people didn’t care much about pretty wives or cute babies when the sheriff was allegedly causing trouble. 

Lee’s approach lately has been much more careful. He can’t get caught planting evidence on the wrong person or having someone rat him out. He was growing increasingly paranoid that the townsfolk were watching him closely. Even his deputies got the brunt of some of his delusions. Y/n saw the wild look in his eye every time he would confide his problems to her. Sometimes his words would blend together in a drunken ramble. Bodies...the river...laundering. He scared her sometimes, but she didn’t say anything. Y/n knows her husband has at least killed someone in cold blood; he confessed it in so many words. She wouldn’t be surprised if it has happened two or three times. She didn’t concern herself with the circumstances. If Lee had killed someone then it was probably justified in the eyes of morality and it wasn’t her business.

All of his revelations hardened her. She stopped being shocked after the fourth time Lee let something slip. Lee had never been violent with her the entirety of their relationship. He gets mad, he yells, and he has been guilty of calling her a name or two, but never ever has he laid a finger on her. Y/n was mostly an obedient wife so Lee never found a reason to be forceful with her. The only time Lee took out any aggression was on her was in the bedroom, but he figured she liked it because she’d moan louder than when he’s most gentle with her. Y/n wasn’t too fond of it at first, but she learned to love it and all the rough edges that began to appear as the years together had gone on.

“Here’s the plan for today, little one. You’re going to spend some time with the nice neighbor girl and you’re going to be a very good girl for her, okay? Okay honey?”

Her daughter just looked up at her from her little pallet on the floor. The toys that surrounded her were mostly bought by Lee. There were a few from her parents, but Lee was responsible for buying her too many toys.

While Y/n had never considered hiring a nanny before, it was often suggested to her. Lee  even told her to hire some help before the days get too rough and he's gone for longer throughout the day. However, Y/n was always hard-headed. She didn’t need the help, this was just a tough time with their daughter’s teeth coming in. Besides Y/n’s mother was just a phone call away. She always had an answer for Y/n that came from her years of being a midwife and from raising her own children. 

The only reason why she was calling over the Peterson's teenage daughter to come babysit was because she couldn’t help Lee in the ways that were needed and bring her baby along with her. Normally she’d put her daughter in her stroller and they were out and about, but this wasn't a regular daily task. It was summertime and her neighbor's daughter probably needed something to do while making some money on top of it.

"Does she need to go down for a nap, Mrs. Bodecker?"

"Not for another hour or two. She shouldn't be hungry or wet. Her teeth are starting to come in so she may get fussy, her teething ring is in the freezer and if that doesn't work then sing Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star to her."

Y/n knew it was a lot for the 16-year-old girl to take in, but she still nodded at every word Y/n said as if she got it all. Of all the little time her daughter had been here on Earth, Y/n had not left her alone with a stranger. It was hard for her to say goodbye to her little girl and leave her with a teenager, but it was bound to happen someday. And the afternoon was almost over, her day was calling for her to begin it.

Lee would be so pissed if he learned that Y/n was driving his car. She wasn't that great with the manual transmission, but she was only taking a short trip to her parent's house. Her brother was home to visit from Cincinnati. He was the child who went to the city unlike his sister. His original plan was to stay while Y/n wanted to go, but she had met Lee and decided to stay. Her brother never explained to her why he left for the city. She didn’t want to ask him too much in fear of prying into his business.

Y/n's parents were incredibly happy about Y/n’s relationship with Lee because that meant their only daughter was bound to stay near them. Her father respected Lee and often disregarded the town’s gossip because he saw it just as that: gossip.  

Her brother David was a different story. He didn't really like his brother-in-law. The age gap between them was his biggest concern. “Don’t meddle in your sister’s life. Lee is a good man,”  there mother had once tried to persuade him. It was tough when he heard rumors that Y/n didn't even know about at the time because she was younger. He moved to the city before he could hear just how worse things have gotten with the gossip about Lee Bodecker. David wasn't too thrilled to return for Y/n and Lee’s wedding.

Y/n found his disdain with Lee rather comical. Lee was a protective older brother just like David was, but they just couldn't see eye to eye. She recalls the Christmas fight that happened three years ago. David nearly kicked Lee's ass but his little sister protected her husband by shielding him. Y/n didn't want to involve herself, but if she had to pick where her loyalty lied, it would be with her husband.

"Why you stop by without bringing my gorgeous, little niece?" David wrapped his arms around his sister, surprised to see her pulling up by herself, but happy nonetheless.

"You can come over any time to see her David," Y/n ignores the frown that falls on her brother's face, "are mom and pop home?"

"Ma's at the salon and pop is outback cutting up some wood. I tried to stop him. His arthritis is getting worse, but he gives Ma and I hell every time we tell him to slow down. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I just need a favor."

If she was asking her visiting big brother for help instead of her husband or their father, then it must be something she's trying to keep quiet. David was weary about his sister being secretive when she has an eight month old baby at home. In his eyes, if she's sneaking around then it's some sort of trouble.

"What kind?"

"Can I borrow your truck?" Y/n didn't elaborate, she just hoped that he'd say yes.

She can't go around town driving in a familiar car. Lee's personal car was too expensive not to notice and her father's truck had a damn logo on it. David's car though was perfect; no one would recognize the plates because he bought it two years ago from a dealership in Cincinnati, but it would blend in with any car that would be driven in Brewer Heights.

"Is something wrong with the cadillac?"

"No. I just don't want to be noticed. You know Lee doesn’t like me driving around in his fancy car."

If it wasn't for the immense trust David had in his sister, he'd say no. Something about her was off; her sweet demeanor replaced by something more discomposed. It was the same look on her face the night he had caught her trying to sneak out of the house when she was 14. Whatever she wanted to do, it would probably be better handled by someone else, but he didn't ask anymore questions, just handed her the keys.

“Get back before it gets dark, and be safe.”

“You sound just like pop,” she tried to joke to mitigate his worry but he kept a stern look on his face.

“I’m serious Y/n.”

"I'll be back soon," she promised. Of course she would, she has a child at home.

David watched her peel out of the dirt driveway and his car disappeared from sight. He only worried because he didn’t know what the problem was and she looked like she was dying to say something. Maybe in due time she’ll be able to tell her brother everything. Maybe they’ll laugh about it when the years have passed and they’re up in age. 

The streets started to become unrecognizable as she drove away from her parent’s home and a much different part of the county. Y/n struggled to materialize the exact location of her destination but from what she had gathered it was at the edge of town, almost entering a different county. All she's ever heard about it was that it was in a "shady part of Knockemstiff." “Shady” meant so many different things because she found the bar that Lee liked to stop at sometimes after a shift to be “shady.”

She hoped to God that Lee was stuck at the office with paperwork and not out patrolling. The sun was going to be setting soon and if he caught her over here all alone past dark, he may just never let her leave the house ever again.

Y/n was not ready to admit what she had planned, especially not to Lee. She herself hadn’t reckoned with it herself. The station her brother had on annoyed her. She turned it off and sat in silence. The only noise that accompanied her was the whirling sound of the wind that slipped through the cracked window. Her eyes peered at every building until they became less frequent. She could hear her blood moving through her veins as she gripped the steering wheel. Did Lee get this way when he did something he wasn’t supposed to? Surely he would be more composed than her, but he has the experience. 

She tried to lighten herself up by putting herself in Lee’s shoes. He probably wouldn’t hesitate or second guess his actions. If he did it, he most likely believed that the end justifies the means. No one who was innocent was ever hurt. They may have not committed a crime at the time, but they had before and would do it again. Y/n would have her own confessions to tell Y/n some day. She doesn’t need alcohol to spill her sins. Lee’s presence alone was compelling enough to get her to divulge her crimes, even the harmless ones.

The fact that she’s been driving around for a good half-an-hour lessened her anxiety but increased her impatience. She didn’t realize just how big the county was. It’s been a while since she drove herself anywhere. It was freeing, but she did miss her husband acting as her chauffeur. The thought of Lee driving her to the very brothel he has been accused of frequenting before he was a married man was comical. The consequences of her getting caught was only scary when she thought about how Lee would react. 

There was a large clearing of land before Y/n reached another set of buildings. A memory about one of them made her pump the break before passing the entry to turn in. She made a sharp turn into it's parking lot. Jimmy, her high school boyfriend, tried to sneak her into some bar but she was caught about her brother who also happened to be there. She remembered the distinct color of the door; neon green. It was an eyesore but it had never been changed, even when they switched owners. The place had closed down years later due to an excess of minors being able to sneak in. 

The crappy bar was not her concern, but the place next to it. She remembers Jimmy’s distinct voice whispering in her ear, the smell of alcohol ripe on his breath.

"That's where the girls who got nothing but good pussy between their legs go."

She had flinched at the words he used. She wondered what he meant by that, only 14 at the time and not really able to comprehend the concept of a brothel. It was the first time she's heard anyone refer to a woman's private parts as a "pussy..

Y/n didn’t expect the parking lot to be so empty. It was pretty early in the evening, maybe people did not want to be at a whore house when there was still daylight. Only one car sat in the parking lot of the bar. There was a makeshift parking lot on the side of the building and next to the old bar. It looked like it was not taken care of properly and a fire hazard waiting to happen. 

She circled around the building, eyeing it to see if there were windows to see inside somehow. Only a few small windows were on the building, but they were either foggy or covered in moss that it was a futile attempt.. Tire markings covered the dirt right in the back of the building. Y/n figured that most people parked back here so they wouldn’t get caught by any passing cars or authority. There was not much that could kill a man’s reputation like being caught in this place. 

Y/n settled for parking her car on the side of the bar. The likelihood of someone driving by and being able to see the plates of her brother’s car was very slim, but she found herself being extra careful.

Upon her arrival at the door, Y/n told herself she had no idea what she's doing, nor what she should expect. It probably wasn't common for a woman to walk into a whore house unless she was a whore herself. She hoped that she was unrecognizable with her usually pinned-up hair cascaded over her shoulders and a different shade of lipstick on her lips. The sunglasses were a last minute, ridiculous purchase, but it gave her a layer of protection. At least she could wear a disguise, Lee didn’t have anything to protect his identity when he did his own sinful acts. The least she could do for her husband is to not get herself caught.

Y/n wonders if Lee hadn’t been so secretive, would she have to do this? Lee did his best to hide things from his wife, but she isn't stupid, she goes out in town and hears things about her husband. Those rumors weren't small like he tried to lead on. "Someone" always meant more than ten people. In her eyes, this had been a long time coming; it was only a matter of time before she got sucked into his world without the intention of doing so. She could only feel so compelled to protect a man no matter the consequences if she loved him more than life itself. 

If he wanted to be secretive under the guise of “protecting” her then fine, but she hated that she had to piece everything together on her own. She heard his late night conversations when he failed to make sure she was sleeping. Whoever he talked to, they talked about a lot of things that didn’t sound wholly legal. From what she picked up from his phone call concerning this dilemma was that the owner of this place was referred to as “Reed”. He didn't seem too fond of Lee, and from the sound of her husband’s voice, the feeling was mutual. She had trouble keeping up with all the technical jargon of Lee’s phone conversations, but from her understanding Lee was threatening to get the place shut down. It would be a good look for him in his bid for being mayor. He would look like a hero if all the crime and sleaziness of this county was suddenly dealt with. Maybe they’d put his picture in the newspaper and dedicated a lengthy article to him and Y/n could clip it to the refrigerator. 

No one would think twice about connecting the dots that Lee was connected to several illegal operations going on around the county. Of all the rumors she has heard about Lee, the whore house bothered her most. It made her feel vain that she was only concerned with her husband cheating on her and not potential murders he has committed. Insecurity crept into her as she visualized her husband stepping through these exact same doors and finding his pleasure in a woman that had more experience than her. She did believe her husband when he said he hadn't stepped out on her while they were married, but that didn’t include their entire relationship. It shouldn’t matter because she was the one he decided to marry, but it still lingered in the back of her mind.

Her body shook to the core as she opened the door. She swallowed thickly as she wondered what sight she would be greeted by. It was an anti-climatic moment when she fully stepped inside to an empty place. It looked like a makeshift motel lobby and bar at the same time. Y/n thought it would be something more shabby and slimy, but it was not. Some pin-up model posters were plastered on the wall along with photos of random musicians. There were oddly a lot of photos of Frank Sinatra that had their own little corner of the wall. It was hard to determine what the vibe of this “establishment” was. One thing for sure is that she felt like an intruder. The posers on the wall made her feel stupidly bashful; this was a man’s domains and not a place for someone’s wife.

"Can I help you darlin?"

The smooth voice belonged to an older man. Y/n figured he was “Reed” because he looked like a Reed. And he appeared to be the only person here. She doubts a random patron would take to cleaning the place up by sweeping the floors.

"Uh -- are you Mr. Reed?"

Surprisingly, he just laughed at her stumbling over her words. It hadn’t dawn on her prior to a few moments ago that he knew his way around talking to a nervous girl. She ironically hoped that he thought she was just a lost whore, and that she wasn’t recognized as the sheriff’s wife.

"I am darlin’. Is there something I can help you with?" He asked again. Y/n was surprised that he wasn't intimidating, or greasy. He seemed so simple and kind, but he just happened to run a brothel. And he was the man who was saying awful things about her husband.

"I'm looking for a job," she made sure her words were as natural as possible. The little script she created in her head seemed like it would be easy to see-through, "I-I’m just wondering if you were looking for a waitress or someone to clean the place?"

A sly smile spread across his face. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt just how insidious this man was. A glance at him and he was unsuspecting, but a few moments with him, especially when he’s alone with a pretty girl and his true nature was hard to hide.

"You've come to a good place, darlin’. Let me put this away and I'll show you to my office."

He put the broom he held back into a closet and beckoned for her to follow him. Her heart thumped loudly as she followed him to potential danger. He could assault her or do something worse if he really wanted to. She was vulnerable now and just had to trust the process. 

They had passed multiple doors to get to his office, probably the doors where the girls would stay and please customers. Y/n tried not to imagine Lee being behind one of those doors with a woman touching his body. This place smelled like tawdry perfume, luckily something she has never smelled on Lee’s clothes.

"Do you have any experience waitressing?" He said the word as if he wanted her to believe that this place was anything but a brothel. For him it was possible that she really thought this place was something innocent, but he could always persuade a pretty girl who looked lost to work for him. 

"A few years...I was a waitress with my friend in Columbus for a year."

"Columbus? Why did you leave darlin’?" Y/n wanted to cringe at his constant pet name. No man talked to her like that besides her husband. It felt dirty to hear him call her something reserved for Lee and Lee only.

"Got into some trouble. My ex roughed me up a bit and I had to leave," Y/n recalled the story her brother told about one of his college friends: a homely sorority girl who got caught up with the wrong guy. She felt bad using the poor girl's story and reclaiming it as her own, but a sob story would make this man more likely to take her in if she guessed correctly.

"Well, I don't know if I'm taking anymore girls in-"

"Please!? Please? I don't have anywhere else to go. I really need the money and a place to stay. It was hell getting up here," she implored. 

Hearing her beg like that made his cock harden in his pants. There was something about a sweet little thing begging for his help that turned him on. He had no intention of turning her away from the beginning, but it was also nice to know how desperate a girl was; that made it easier for him to get a taste for himself.

However, Reed was either too horny or just an idiot to realize that a girl who had been traveling alone and from Columbus wouldn't be wearing such a nice dress that looked untouched. He was a sadistic bastard who liked employing girls that he can push around and Y/n was beginning to see that due to his negligence.

 His appearance absolutely covered up for how mean he was. Most bruises that ended up on his girls weren't from customers, but from him. He had to control himself when customers started to complain about the marks on the girls. (It was not like they cared for their well-being, they just wanted to fuck girls who were looked clean and pretty. Those men just wanted their fantasies fulfilled). His rage was taken out in psychological ways now instead of physical. He made sure those girls were in hell with no escape. He was sweeter on them if they opened their legs for him, but he was well aware that he could get away with doing whatever he wanted to them because they had nowhere else to go. If Y/n knew half the stuff he did then she wouldn't feel as guilty for what she was planning to do to him.

"I don't just hire anyone -- say, what’s your name darlin’?"

"Mary. My name is Mary."

"You gotta prove you deserve to work for me, Mary. Why don't you stand up and turn around for me."

Y/n dreaded following his orders, obeying him and spinning around slowly in her dress for him. The only man she had done that for was Lee. She felt like she was cheating on him, but she remembered that it was for him. His face was etched in her mind the entire time. The thought of him comforted her as she pretended like he was there with her as if he was God’s spirit, wrapping her in a feeling of vengeance instead of love.

"You sure are a pretty little thing. You been fucked before?"

"Once. Just by my ex-boyfriend."

"Good. I'm sure that pussy is still tight, I can just say you're a virgin and make one of those fuckers pay a heavy price for a piece of you."

Y/n nearly looked at him in horror, but gave him a half-hearted smile instead. She would act like she was grateful for him giving her a chance to make money. Her stomach churned at the thought of possibly not making it out of here. Reed’s eyes had darkened once he knew that she was in his grasp with no easy escape. He was a big man who could easily overpower her if she tried to do something stupid. But she seemed so obedient, like a perfect little girl.

"I can get you a bed, but you're going to have to reuse the clothes that are in there already. The girl who stayed there last up and ran away,” Y/n was very doubtful about that. Reed began rummaging through his drawer, pulling out a bottle of liquor before continuing, “If they don't fit you can trade with one of the other girls. You and the rest of the girls stay in your room until it's time to open. Can't have any of you roaming around in case one of those bastard cops decide to give me some trouble."

Her eyes glanced at the clock on the wall, it was nearly 8 o’clock. She did not think it would go this smoothly so far. Her anxiety didn’t cause her to make any major flubs that would get her caught; she just came off as an unsuspecting girl. Y/n just didn’t realize how simple a man could be in the presence of an attractive woman.

"Place opens at 9 every night, ‘cept for Sundays. I’m going to let you go get ready soon but I need you to learn my rules before you go out there and do something to piss me off," he shuffled in his seat for a few seconds, his face painted with discomfort, "first I need to go piss. Can you stay here and wait for me darlin’? Of course you can,” he left without waiting for a response from her.

Y/n waited until he opened his office door and closed it behind him. She had limited time to do what she had to do. She quickly moved behind his desk and began to fly through his drawers looking for arsenic.

There was a conversation she remembers Lee having with one of the men in town when they stopped in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store to talk. Most men believed that their wives weren’t interested in listening to whatever they’ve got to talk about with other men. Or that they just don’t understand what the hell they’re talking about. That may be true for Y/n most of the time but her ears perked up when she had heard certain words. Y/n had a penchant for being nosey ever since she was a kid, but it usually got her in trouble. She tried not to eavesdrop on Lee’s conversations but he made it so hard when he started to whisper and look around to make sure no one else was near. 

A word like "syphilis" had Y/n scratching her head. She hadn't heard of it before but apparently a man in town died from it after contracting it "at the whore house." It sounded serious. and from the context, something you get from fucking someone without a condom.

 A few books at the library confirmed her suspicions. She had to re-read some sentences to fully grasp what she was reading. From what she gathered, syphilis was treated with “magic” arsenic before they switched to penicillin. However, with Mr. Reed being referred to as a "cheap” and “old school” man multiple times in Lee’s conversation with the man at the grocery store, she believed (or at least hoped) that he still used that old method. But instead of Salvarsan, she found something that looked much cheaper and like it wasn’t obtained legally. She grabbed as many vials as she could and just began to dump them into his glass that held his dark liquor. She did it rather sloppily, her hands shaking when she realized that this was it. It was possible that she was more scared of getting caught by him than killing the old man. He’d probably beat her until she was unrecognizable.

Y/n desperately hoped it would work. If it didn't kill him, then it would certainly impair him since he was up in age and probably didn't take good care of his health anyway. She tossed the empty vials into one of the drawers of his desk and wiped whatever residue was on her hands onto the tacky shag rug on the floor. She had to get it off of her hand before getting in her brother’s car. She didn’t consider the risk of poisoning herself, but it arose inside of her the moment she felt a few splashes onto her fingers.

"Ok sweetheart," he had caught her on her knees, "what are you doing?"

"I-I dropped my earring."

He couldn't see her ears due to her hair covering them. He grumbled something about "women" but moved to his seat without question.

Y/n got off the floor and sat in the chair in front of him. He looked a little annoyed with her now instead of eyeing her like a piece of meat like he had done for the entirety of their time alone. She watched his hand intently, waiting for him to wrap his hand around his glass and bring it up to his lips.

"I run a tight house here. None of my whores act up and I expect the same for you. If you're good for daddy, he'll be good to you."

A loud buzzing in her ears made his words unintelligible. She panicked and wondered if it was the little amount of arsenic that got on her hand that was making her feel sick to her stomach. She needed to clean herself up, and Reed needed to wrap this up. But he just talked and talked and talked while she nodded along like she really cared or was paying attention. She held her breath as he picked his glass up and took the first sip of his poisoned alcohol. Y/n isn't sure why she expected an immediate reaction from him, maybe for him to spit it out or clutch his chest, but he just carried on. It was going to take time, and she just had to wait it out. She had probably about 45 minute left before it was opening time. What if there were people already starting to come? What if one of the girls was roaming around now?

"You got that darlin'?"

"Yes," Y/n choked out, not realizing Reed had finished his spiel.

"Alright. Your room is upstairs, take a left and it’s the third room on the right hand side. Just because you’re new doesn’t mean I won’t have your ass if you’re late," he kicked up his heels and reclined in his chair as he placed a cigarette between his lips. He lit it up and blew smoke right in Y/n’s direction, disregarding her grimace, “I’ll probably just let a few men use your throat tonight. Don’t worry, I won’t let them touch that pretty little pussy yet.”

Reed smiled coyly as if he was doing her a favor. He nodded towards the door and Y/n hot tailed it out of there. She didn't realize that she wasn't breathing right until she let out an exhale and then inhaled deeply. If he wasn't going to experience symptoms right away then it was going to take some time. There she ran the risk of him being able to get some help. It wasn’t likely that many people would call the cops to help a dying brothel owner, but she panicked that maybe somebody would.

Barricading him inside of his office was the only thing to give her reassurance. She grabbed one of the bar stools, heavier than she expected, and trudged towards his door. She gently placed the first one against the door so as to not to make a noise that would cause him to see what’s going on. Y/n did her best to run back and forth in her flats and placed each stool against his door until there were no more left. She added a few chairs to the growing pile to make sure it stuck.

Y/n paused when she heard someone starting to rouse. Whoever it was, or what, stopped making noise after a few seconds. Y/n looked up and started praying to God that she would not get caught, but the irony of wishing for someone to die did not escape her.

God just may have been on her side though. She got out of there with clean hands and not a single mark on her skin. Y/n knew that Lee couldn’t know about this just quite yet, but she begins to fantasize about Lee being proud of her and taking her to bed afterwards.

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

"Where have you been?” Imagine Lee’s surprise when he saw his neighbor’s teen daughter holding his little girl. Nothing seemed to be wrong, in fact his daughter was giggling at something the teen was doing. However, Y/n had not told him hiring a babysitter, nor did he know she was going to go out. She always told him if she was going out. If it was a spontaneous decision then a new question rose of where the hell she was during the darker hours of the day.

"I went to visit my parents and must have lost track of time,” Y/n kissed his cheek like she always does. She knows how to get Lee’s attention on something else, “David is in town and I wanted to see him-”

She was cut off by the sound of her husband groaning. It wasn’t often that his brother-in-law came into town, so it was only a matter of time before Y/n was dragging him over to her parents house for dinner.

“Whatever. Just put the girl to bed.”

Probably the first time, Y/n was happy to see that Lee was too tired to talk to her. She doubts he’ll have questions later about her whereabouts, especially if the death of the brothel owner hits his desk by tomorrow morning.

Y/n won’t worry about it tonight. She’s fine. Everything will be fine.

Their daughter went down easy tonight. She was tuckered out from her day with the babysitter. “Good night baby,” Y/n kissed her forehead and prayed that she would sleep through the night instead of waking up crying for a feed.

Y/n walked into the bedroom to Lee undressing himself. “Join me,” he nodded his head in the direction of their bathroom. There was a smile on his face, a sly one but not as lascivious as Reed’s. After being in the presence of such an awful man she was surprised that her body warmed at the idea of Lee’s hands roaming her body. He’s the only man she wants to be obedient for. The hot water on her skin cleaned her and the cum that sputtered out from Lee’s hard-on anointed her. 

“You feel so fucking good. Oh God...I was thinking about this pussy when I was at work...almost had to touch myself.”

Lee’s words were similar to the ones Reed had used earlier but they purified her. Her cheek pressed against the tiled wall as he fully pushed himself inside of her, hands gripping her hip. There was a low sound of their wet skin slapping together coupled with Lee’s own grunts. Y/n wasn’t particularly in the mood to have sex, but she just needed Lee close to her.

“I’m gonna cum Y/n -- I’m gonna cum honey-” his voice was cut off by his orgasm as he emptied himself inside of her. 

He slumped against her, his face pressed against her back as his arms wrapped her waist to bring her body closer against his.

“Do you think I’m gonna win?”

Y/n wiggled out of his grasp and turned off the water that was beating down on their skin. Water continued to fall down his face; his eyes were more than tired, they were sullen. 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think people are really going to vote for me? They love that old bastard so damn much even though he’s old as shit.”

“Lee? Where is this coming from? Why are you so worried? People respect you-”

“But it doesn’t mean they like me. You and I both know that most of the people didn’t even start being friendly with me until the little one came along.” It was sort of his own fault, but Y/n would never tell him that.

“Don’t worry Lee,” she cupped his face, something he normally does, but it was nice to switch roles, “everything will be alright. I promise. You’re going to be mayor and I’m going to be the mayor’s wife.”

He nodded at her reassurance, but his doubt was hard to push away. He felt foolish being so vulnerable and borderline emotional about this, but his wife made him feel better. Her eyes were honest and words earnest when she said, “everything will be alright.”

Lee believed her.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 1

Warnings: this short series will include dark elements including noncon, possible violence, mentions of mental illness, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your new boarder isn’t who he seems to be.

Note: So I wanted to do a lumberjack!Andy and got a bit carried away but let me tell you, somehow Andy always turns into an ultimate creep with me.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

It wasn’t often you found a stranger in Heron Creek. 

The small town was barely more than a single street; most residents lived further out. It was more a marketplace than anything. Townsfolk came to shop and socialise amid the limited stretch of businesses and not much else. The lumberyard fueled much of the economy and was closer than any home.

After weeks of arguing with your mother, you’d finally resigned. You needed a boarder to see you through the winter. Money was tight since your mother’s diagnosis; pills, therapy, reduced income. Your own job was just enough to see to the bills but not for the groceries or any incidentals. Even if you did some odd jobs around town, you wouldn’t be able to scrape enough to get by.

You’d never seen the man before. The message had been expected and a last hope. You agreed to meet at the town’s only cafe and were surprised and slightly disappointed. 

He greeted you by name as you looked around. You expected a woman; the advert had requested only females but, you supposed, that beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Andy,” He introduced himself as he offered you his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” You lied as you sat.

“You want a coffee? I’m headed up for a refill,” He grabbed his empty mug.

“Sure,” You reached for your wallet. You could tell by his accent he was from the city; if you were to guess, one far from Heron Creek. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can get it.” He waved you off as you fumbled with your purse. “I’ll be back.”

He returned with two cups and slid one over to you. You added cream from the table.

“I know you advertised for women only but… I’m kinda running out of options and judging by how long your ad’s been in the paper, I think you might be too.” He began.

“Uh huh,” You sipped from your coffee. “You’re new around here.”

“I am.” He confirmed. “But you’re not so you should know there’s not a lot to choose from.”

“Why would you move all the way up here?”

“Tired of the city.” He said evenly. 

“You have a job?” You asked.

“At the lumberyard.” He replied. “Been there two months now, living down at Harry Brennan’s but he’s ready to have me out.”

“Hmm, yeah, he can be a bit prickly,” You remarked. “My mother, too. She’s sick. Moody. You sure you wanna trade in one for the other?”

He looked at you. He sat with his shoulders back, his head held up proudly. His gaze was discerning, as if he was measuring your every word and move.

“I can pay more than you’re asking and I’ll help out around the house.” He said. “Well, I won’t decide until I see the place, of course, but I’m optimistic.”

You tasted the bitter coffee. You preferred your own brew. You nodded as you set down your mug.

“They don’t have many lumberyards in the city. What’d you do before?”

“I was a lawyer.” He said. “And what do you do?”

“A lawyer? You’d give up that to live in the middle of nowhere and chop wood?”

“It’s quiet up here. Peaceful.” He tapped his fingers on the table beside his gloves. “A few more months and I should be able to afford my own place. At least a plot to start building.”

You considered him and held your palm to the warm porcelain. Your mother was wary of men. You couldn’t make the decision without her.

“You didn’t tell me what you do.” He said.

“I’m a writer. Mostly pieces on the local species and whatnot. There’s not many jobs to be had around here but on the internet…”

“So?” He asked as he shifted in his chair.

“I’ll have to talk to my mother.” You answered. “Then maybe you can come check out the room. It’s a big enough place for three. Probably too big but there’s a lot of work to be done in the winter.”

“Right,” He said. “As I said, I’ll help out with anything I can.”

You squinted and gulped the coffee even though it burned your throat. You stood and gathered up your purse.

“I don’t mean to run out but I have to hit Marla’s.” You hooked the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “I’ll let you know before the end of the week, but… well, my mom isn’t an easy person to deal with. Not unless you’re related.”

“Got it,” He watched you placidly as he rose. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

🍂

You heard voices from the front porch. You blinked and set down the basket of warm laundry on the kitchen table as you sighed at your mother’s mug. There was still tea in it which meant she had taken her first chance to chase her innate stubborn streak.

You’d argued for much of the morning as she accused you of inviting a strange man into her home and you countered that you’d merely agreed to a look at the house. No decision had yet been made, though the only reason your mother entertained the notion was the desperately needed money. And that had been your only winning point of contention.

You didn’t want the strange man living in your space anymore than she did but you also realised that you couldn’t possibly go on as you were. You went to the door, the thicker one open as the screen door was the only shield from the bitter late autumn air. You heard the creak of your mother’s rocking chair and the deep voice of a man. You recognized it even after a single meeting.

“...hauling wood, ma’am.” Was all you caught as you peered through the mesh.

“So you work at the lumberyard? My husband worked there before he tucked tail,” Your mother ranted. “That was almost twenty years ago.”

“Just like every other man in the county,” You opened the door. “Ma, I’d be down there too if I hadn’t lucked out.”

“I’m sorry about your husband, ma’am.” Andy slipped in as he stood on the bottom step. 

“Don’t call me, ma’am,” Your mother rebuked. “I’m not that old just yet.”

Andy glanced at you and you touched the back of your mother’s chair and stilled it.

“It’s a nice looking house,” Andy broke the silence. “Big property.”

“All that bastard left me,” Your mother swore and leaned on the arm of her chair. “Well, aren’t you going to show the man around.” She pushed back so you were forced to let go of the chair or else sprain your wrist. “Take your shoes off, sir.”

You nodded and waved him up the steps with a wry smirk at your mother. You held open the door as he passed and your mother looked pleased with herself as she rocked again. You let the door clatter behind you as Andy bent to loosen his work boots. He stood as he kicked off his boots and you rubbed your forehead.

“I’m sorry about my mom.” You said. “She’s… stubborn.”

“Don’t you apologize for me, girl.” Your mom called through the screen door and you quickly closed the thicker one.

“Well, nothing too fancy,” You stepped past him into the front room. “Living room, dining room,” You waved your hand back. “Kitchen in the back, bathroom as you walk through and the laundry room just on the other side.” You lowered your arm and neared the stairs. “Your room would be up here.”

You turned and he followed you up the noisy old stairs. The carpet at the top was faded and tattered and did little to cushion the hard wooden floor as you walked along the hallway.

“My mother’s is at the end. Mine is to the left and yours is right here,” You opened the door next to yours. “Looks out onto the yard, so not the worst.”

“Mmm, okay,” He paced around the bed and went to the window. He felt the lace curtains as he gazed out through the glass.

“I’ll empty out the closet. Probably why it smells like mothballs.” You explained. “Pretty simple, we share the common spaces and clean up after ourselves.” You shrugged. “My mom will leave you alone as long as you don’t get in her way. She usually stays in her room if she’s not out front.”

“That’s fine. I won’t be here much.” He said. “Just really need a place to sleep.”

“There is one other thing. My mother...she has some issues. She gets manic and sometimes… well, I can take care of her but I don’t want you to be blind-sided. She’s on medicine but she’s still adjusting and--” You gulped. “It took me a lot of convincing but if you want the space, it’s yours, at least until spring.”

“I don’t have a lot of choices but I’d be happy to.” He said. “And don’t worry so much about your mother. I was a lawyer, I saw a lot worse in the courtroom.”

“Mmm,” You tucked your hands in your pocket. “Well, anytime after Sunday the room will be ready for you.”

“Sunday,” He repeated. “Okay, that works for me. Should I call ahead?”

“Uh, yeah, you have my number,” You replied and paused as you heard your mother hollering. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“I really hope it’s a squirrel and not a bear again,” You swept out of the room and stomped down the stairs. You went outside as your mother was tossing a stone and shouting at it, the wind chime tinkling and swaying from the porch. “Ma, it’s just a bird.”

“It damn nearly tore the chime off,” She sneered. “Your grandmother made me that.”

“I know, I know, just sit down.” You nudged her back to her chair. “You forgot your tea inside, do you want it?”

“My tea?” She blinked. “Oh, I forgot. Again.”

“It’s okay,” You patted her shoulder as you went back inside. Andy knelt as he pulled his boots back on.

“Everything okay?” He asked as he looked up at you.

“It’s fine,” You assured him. “Sometimes her meds make her a little jumpy. And forgetful.”

“Anything I can do?” He asked as he stood.

“Keep clear of her if you can,” You advised. “I’m not going to sugar coat it. She’s a lot to handle and she’s not very keen on men.”

“The latter I guessed,” He chuckled. “I’ll get out of your hair and see you next week.”

“Next week,” You confirmed as he pushed open the door. “Drive safe.”

“Thanks,” He called over his shoulder as he stepped out onto the porch. “I’ll be seeing you.” He said to your mother as he passed. “When I come back,” He stopped on the second step and you got closer to listen. “I can fix that feeder.” He pointed at the broken bird feeder under the tree. “If you like?”

“Oh,” Your mother grumbled. “Well, I think that… might be nice. As long as it keeps ‘em away from my chimes.”

“I think it will,” He smiled. “My-- I used to have a feeder just like that.”

Your mother was quiet as she stopped rocking. Finally she cleared her throat. “You have a nice day, sir.”

“You too,” He nodded and continued down the steps. 

You watched him go to his pick-up before you spun back and went to fetch your mother’s cup. You returned to the porch as he was backing out and you gave the lukewarm tea to your mother.

“Friendly,” She commented and took a sip. “The ones from the city usually don’t have such good manners.”

“Mhmm,” You grumbled. “Do you need me to warm that up?”

“Go on, girl,” She brushed you away. “I can stomach cold tea.”

🍂

Andy showed up on Monday. He called you the night before to let you know he’d be there and so you planned a trip into town with your mother to let him get settled. You waited until his truck pulled up, his tires crushing the pine cones and twigs as it neared. He got out and you handed him the spare key you had made. Your mother wore a parka and shivered in the car.

“We’ll be gone for a few hours,” You crossed your arms as you resisted the chill that nestled over the top of your scarf. “So you should be able to get settled in.”

“Thanks,” He turned the key over in his hand. “I’ll be discreet.”

“She’s in a good mood today. Well, until she starts complaining I left her in the car so long,” You rubbed your gloved hands together. “I’ll go. There’s logs by the fireplace in the living room. Heating downstairs isn’t so good but it makes a difference.”

“I’ll figure it out,” He assured. “You ladies have fun.”

“Ladies?” You arched a brow but he was hardly bothered. You nodded and left him.

You got in the jeep as your mother played with the radio and bemoaned the downfall of modern music. You shifted out of park and backed up as you tuned out her and Patsy Cline fizzling from the local station.

You went to Gerry’s, the only proper restaurant in town. Breakfast was often better than the evening’s affair and you showed up just in time for the lunch menu. Your mother gabbed with the waitress a little too long and you resisted apologizing on her behalf, knowing it would only sour her already brittle mood.

You ate and grabbed a pie from the display at your mother’s behest. She stopped by Geraldine’s thrift shop and bought another figurine for her collection; the porcelain wolves decorated her room and even some of the front room. You grabbed a few books you hadn’t read before and checked the time. You were certain you’d wasted enough time for Andy to get figured out.

As you drove back, the pale sky made the trees seem bleak in comparison. The first snow was imminent.

“You should make a nice dinner tonight.” Your mother said.

“Oh, I should?” You asked.

“I’m pooped. I gotta lay down.” She huffed. “But you always made a good chili. You can send that man off with a good lunch tomorrow if you make a big pot.”

“Mom,” You looked at her briefly. “You know his name.”

“I do. And that’s it.” She crossed her arms. “He seems nice enough but you never know. He’s not from around here.”

“No he’s not. But no one around here would pay what you want for that room.” You argued. “You’re lucky he’s from the city, they’re used to paying a fortune for shit.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“You said it was alright, ma. You agreed to it. It’s too late to send him off now.” You muttered.

“I like him,” She sneered. “I don’t like the way you look at him.”

“What?” You scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“If I was younger, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at him. He’s handsome but I do wonder how he ended up here. You said he was a lawyer.”

“All sorts end up here, ma,” You countered. “Kenneth used to be an ad exec and now look at him; he sells sod and salt.”

“Still,” She rubbed her chin. “You’re young. When I was your age, well, if I had been alone all the time like you are, I’d be rearing to go.”

“Ma,” You were almost laughing. “You’re crazy.”

“That’s what the pills are for,” She retorted. “But I’m not blind.”

“Okay,” You said dryly as you rolled your eyes. “I think maybe I should be keeping my eye on you.”

“Ha, maybe I should give you a few pills,” She chuckled. “I’m not that mad.”

“Alright,” You gripped the steering wheel. “I’ll make chili but don’t go on about this in front of him. It’s gonna be weird enough.”

“Sure,” She harrumphed. “I’ll be good.”

🍂

As you took the lid off the deep pot, a billow of steam went up and the front door opened and closed. Your mother sat at the table after her nap and sipped on a hot tea. You listened to the floor groan as Andy stopped by the door and proceeded with lighter footfalls into the kitchen.

“I fixed the bird feeder,” He clapped his hands together. “Your chimes should be safe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Your mother beamed. “So sweet of you, Andy.”

“Not at all,” He said. “Simple work. Didn’t realise how much easier life is when you don’t have to think so much.”

He neared the table and grabbed the back of an empty chair. “You mind if I sit?”

“Go on,” Your mother was unusually chipper. “So how’d you fair? Got all your stuff unpacked?”

“Yep,” He answered, “Mmm, whatever you’re cooking smells good.”

“Chili,” You answered as you replaced the lid. “Twenty more minutes at most.”

“Chili. I remember--” He stopped and cleared his throat. You turned and watched him as he smoothed the front of his shirt, his fingers grabbing at the tie that wasn’t there. “I knew someone who used to make chili but it wasn’t chili chili. White beans and turkey… good but, I don’t think I’ve had real chili in forever.”

“You go down to Gerry’s on a Thursday and you’ll get some,” Your mother intoned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Andy gave a small smile. “How was your day in town?”

You didn’t answer and looked to your mom. She frowned at you but quickly wiped it away.

“It was nice. You know, me and my daughter live together but we really don’t spend too much time together.”

“That’s great,” He said but barely seemed to see your mother as he watched you lean against the stove. “Well, hopefully I can help out some more and you can find more time for each other.”

“Uh huh,” You muttered. “Hopefully.”

🍂

That night, your mother went to bed and you retired soon after her. Andy had been quick to hide after dinner and you were thankful for that. You told him you’d set aside a container for his lunch and he was almost sheepish at the gesture.

You climbed up the stairs and slipped inside your room. The night was quiet and no moon floated above to shine in the windows. It was almost eerie. You changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed with your laptop. You turned off the lamp, content to type in the dark and eke out a few more paragraphs for your latest commission.

As the night wore on, only the tapping of keys filled your ears and you found yourself slumping lower against the headboard. You flipped onto your stomach and hugged the pillow as you tried to keep going, yawns blurring your vision as your body resisted your determination. 

You didn’t recall falling asleep but it was a haze of visions. Your head swirled with your mother’s voice and Andy’s deep blue eyes. A blizzard turned the landscapes white and a wolf’s howl made you shiver. 

You woke, still on your stomach, an arm beneath your pillow, and your laptop dead. You groaned as you rolled over. The grey light of dawn filled your room and the frigid air raised bumps on your skin as your blanket was twisted around you. 

A floorboard creaked along the hallway and you sat up. You blinked at the shadow that flitted away through the crack between your bedroom door and the frame. You had closed your door; you were sure of it. Entirely certain as your door always stuck terribly and was quite a pain in the ass.

You drew a blanket around your shoulders as you stood and went to the door. You blinked and peeked out into the hall. There was nothing, no one. You sighed as your eyes froze on the closed bathroom door. You heard the sudden whine of the shower and the rattling of the pipes. Andy must have woken up to get ready for work.

You always wondered how the lumberjacks could handle the early mornings, especially in the winter. You turned back and closed your door. Your feet were cold on the floorboards and the rug was just as unwelcoming as you crossed to the window. Snowflakes blurred the horizon and shrouded the dawn.

Winter had come and you sensed a storm brewing.

[rhymingtree]

FROM THE SHADOWS - Chapter Four

Chapter 4 || Slight Change of Plan

word count: 10.7k

summary: A revelation rattles the already unstable partnership between Sam and Bucky, and the Power Broker's wariness threatens Ghost's mission.

warnings: violence, profanity, racism, John Walker and Christina Raynor being themselves, if there's anymore do tell me :)

— — —

Baltimore, Maryland

Bucky led Sam through the neighborhood, wordlessly walking ahead of him as he tried to predict how it would go in his head.

There was a good chance they wouldn’t even be let inside the house. The man was a hermit, closing himself off completely after he got out of jail, only ever seeing the few family he had left. No one else knew about him, not even Steve. He kept his existence a secret, because that was all he wanted.

Just like Bucky, Isaiah Bradley wanted peace. They were so alike, yet completely different.

As they neared the house at the end of the street, they were spotted by a pair of kids sitting on the sidewalk. One looked up at Sam excitedly, standing up to greet him, “Hey, it’s Black Falcon! What’s up?”

“It’s just Falcon, kid,” Sam corrected, slowing to a stop in front of the kid.

“No, no. My daddy told me, it’s Black Falcon,” the kid said with a toothy grin.

“Is it because I’m Black and I’m the Falcon?”

“Well, technically. I mean, yes,” the kid shrugged.

“So are you, like, Black kid?”

The kid sighed, dropping his arms as his friend snickered beside him.

Sam chuckled, patting his friend’s knee, “I got him, right?”

He walked away with a smile, hearing the kid mutter, “Whatever, man.”

The smile faded as he followed Bucky to the lone house at the end of the street, taking two steps at a time to the porch. The door was railed, with a NO TRESPASSING sign. The blinds were completely closed and there was nothing to be heard from inside.

Sam looked around at the quiet neighborhood, wondering why Bucky had brought them there. He gave him a questioning look as Bucky rapped on the screen door; he crossed his arms as Bucky nervously bit his lip.

Footsteps came from inside, drawing nearer until the lock clicked. They were greeted by a teenager, who looked them both over with suspicion.

Bucky shifted on his feet, simply stating, “We’re here to see Isaiah.”

The kid eyed him up and down, “Nobody named Isaiah live here.”

He sighed, giving Sam a reassuring glance before looking over at the teen, “Look, we just want to talk to him.”

“You must not hear what I just said,” The kid kept his hand on the door, ready to shoo them away and close it in their face, “You ain’t getting in this house. Y’all can leave now.”

Bucky blinked at him, lowering his head, “Tell him the guy from the bar in Goyang is here. He’s gonna know what that means.”

The kid hesitated, looking behind him into the house. He sighed, “Alright, wait here.”

He shut the door, and Bucky let out the breath he’d been holding since he stepped on the porch.

“Nice kid,” Sam quipped, surveying the streets as cars went past the house, “How do you know this guy?”

“I used to,” Bucky said, feeling his mouth dry up, “We had a skirmish during the Korean War.”

Sam blinked at him, “Sometimes I forget you’re like, seventy years older than me.”

The door opened again, this time the kid was unlocking the screen door and motioning for them to step inside, “Today’s your lucky day. He said he wanna see for himself.”

Bucky stepped in slowly, taking in the modest house and the man that stood waiting for them.

He had grown older, but he had the same look in his calculating look in his eye. After so many years though, there was a darkness inside them. One he recognizes when he looks in the mirror.

“Isaiah?”

The elder nodded as he stared Bucky down, “Look at you.”

He spotted the one difference between him and Bucky. Bucky had the chance to move forward, he received sympathy, and he had friends. Isaiah had none of that. He had to pick up whatever pieces he could hold onto on his own.

Bucky turned to Sam, “This is, uh, Sam,” he cleared the lump in his throat, “Sam, this is Isaiah.”

Isaiah clenched his jaw, barely giving Sam a glance. His focus remained solely on Bucky.

“He was a hero. One of the ones that HYDRA feared the most. You know, like Steve, and (F/N).”

Sam stayed still beside him, his eyes barely giving away the awe he felt for the man that stood before them.

“We met in ‘51,” Bucky explained.

“If by met, you mean I whooped your ass, then yeah,” Isaiah cut in.

Despite the haze and the darkness of their first meeting, he remembered it almost with fondness. It didn’t end well for Bucky, not at all. They had given him a reinforced metal arm, one that no one could tear off as easily as Isaiah did, and of course, they’d wiped him. But when he fought Isaiah, he found relief in fighting an equal, one who put up a good, almost enjoyable fight.

A smirk made its way to his face until Isaiah spoke again, “We heard whispers he was on the peninsula,” Sam noticed the smile on Bucky’s face, and realized there was a scowl on Isaiah’s, “But everyone they sent after him, never came back.”

Isaiah glowered, “The US Military dropped me behind the line to go deal with him.”

Bucky’s smile fell; he could feel the tension rise in the air.

“I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang. But I see, he’s managed to grow it back,” he shook his head, “I just wanted to see if he got the arm back… Or if he’d come to kill me.”

He wasn’t expecting the pang his words sent through him, the way it twisted him inside.

He’s tried. He’s been trying so hard, to be forgiven, to forgive himself. And yet, no scripted apology or crossed names will make him anything more than what he used to be in the eyes of the ones he truly hurt.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” his voice cracked.

“You think you can wake up one day and decide who you wanna be? It doesn’t work like that,” A smile played on Isaiah’s face, “Well, maybe it does for folks like you.”

Sam’s brow furrowed as Isaiah’s anger grew, staring Bucky down.

Bucky tried to shake it off, unclenching his jaw, “Isaiah, the reason we’re here…” he trailed off, not knowing how to word it properly. Isaiah tilted his head, waiting. Bucky took a deep breath, “Is because there’s more of you and me out there.”

“You and me?” Isaiah’s anger grew with that one phrase, though Bucky didn’t seem to notice.

“And we need to know how,” Bucky continued.

“I’m not gonna talk about it anymore!” Isaiah fumed, grabbing a tin box off the coffee table in front of him, and hurling it into the wall. It embedded itself into the wood with a sharp clang that silenced Bucky.

Sam looked at it with his mouth agape.

That wasn’t something anyone could just do; Isaiah was–is a Super Soldier. There had been a Black Super Soldier for decades, and no one knew. No one except Bucky.

And he told no one about him until now.

Isaiah’s grandson shook his head, regretting letting them in.

The man stood tall, stepping in front of Bucky with sadness in his eyes and a tremble in his voice, “You know what they did to me, for being a hero? They put my ass in jail for thirty years.”

Bucky’s eyes were shining with tears of regret. And the more Isaiah told them, the more his heart fell.

“People running tests. Taking my blood, comin’ into my cell,'' his voice was low; he jutted a finger at Bucky’s chest, “Even your people weren’t done with me.”

Sam tried to calm him, feeling his own confusion and anger rise, “Isaiah-”

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” He screamed, shaking with fury.

Sam jumped back with a look of shock. Bucky said nothing as he turned to leave.

He didn’t know what to do; he was about to open his mouth and mutter an apology until Isaiah’s grandson took hold of his shoulder, leading him towards the door.

---

Sam stormed off the porch ahead of a still shaken Bucky. His head was racing, he didn’t know if he was heartbroken or angry, both emotions were running through his veins and making his blood boil.

“Sam…” Bucky started, finally finding the courage to speak.

He cut him off before Bucky could get another word in, “Why didn’t you tell me about Isaiah? How could nobody bring him up!?”

Bucky stayed silent as they walked down the road together, not knowing how to respond to Sam, who was rightfully furious with him.

He should have seen this coming.

“I asked you a question, Bucky,” he barked.

“I know,” Bucky answered softly.

“Steve didn’t know about him?” he pointed behind them.

“He didn’t, I didn’t tell him,” Bucky said, not meeting his eyes.

“Did you tell (F/N)?”

“No,” he shook his head slowly, bringing his eyes up for a second, if only to convince Sam that he was telling the truth, “I never told anybody.”

He pointed back to Isaiah’s house with a trembling hand, “So you’re telling me, that there was a Black Super Soldier decades ago, and nobody knew about it?”

The anger on Sam’s face brought Bucky to silence. Their argument was interrupted by a screeching siren and police cars stopping in front of them. Sam’s glare softened slightly, while Bucky’s deepened.

“Hey!” The cops came out of the car and slammed the door aggressively, looking Sam up and down.

“What’s up, man?” Sam asked, his arms falling back to his side, though his voice did not falter.

“Is there a problem here?” one asked Bucky.

“No, we’re just talking,” Sam answered for him, tensely gesturing to the two of them.

“We’re fine,” Bucky assured.

There were people watching them, a mix of worried and annoyed faces that Sam ignored as his senses came to high alert.

The cop approached him with his hand out, “Can I see your ID?”

He turned around to face him, “I don’t have ID, why?”

Bucky huffed, “Man, seriously?”

The cop kept his hand outstretched as he tried to placate Sam, his other hand slowly reaching for his weapon, “Sir, just calm down.”

“I am calm,” Sam said with a shake of his head, “What do you want? We’re just standing here, talking.”

Bucky moved beside him, “Just give him your ID so we can get the hell outta here.”

“No, I’m not givin’ him shit! We’re just talking,” he yelled.

The cop gave him a cautious look; he turned to Bucky with concern, “Look, is this guy bothering you?”

“No, he’s not bothering me!” Bucky’s voice rose as well, he was starting to feel angered, too. He gestured to Sam incredulously, “Do you know who this is?”

The other cop gasped as he realized, and quickly moved to his partner’s side, whispering into his ear with panic, “Hey, these guys are Avengers.”

His mouth fell open as he recognized Sam, “Oh, God. I am so sorry, Mr. Wilson,” he chuckled nervously, his eyes flitting to Bucky to avoid Sam’s knowing stare, “I didn’t recognize you without the goggles.”

He was used to this by now. It’s happened so many times before, and it’ll happen again.

The officer didn’t stop apologizing to him. Despite the situation seemingly being blown over, another police car rolled into the street. Sam clenched his jaw, giving the cop another look. He shifted as he held up his hand, running towards the cops who had just arrived.

He glanced at the people who were watching them carefully as Bucky tilted his head, whispering, “I didn’t… I didn’t tell anybody because he had already been through enough.”

Sam shook his head with disbelief. He didn’t know how to feel or what to say, all he knew was that Bucky should have said something. To Steve. Or to anyone who could have and would have helped Isaiah.

But even if anyone did, would it change anything?

Isaiah isn’t the only man—the only hero in America who was abused and erased from history. There could have been so many more that received nothing despite their heroism and valor. Bucky said he was like Steve. He was a Super Soldier.

It was no wonder why Isaiah was suffering while Steve was mythologized and revered. It’s the same reason why Sam had received aggression from those cops while all Bucky got were questions.

The officer came back with an apprehensive look, “Mr. Barnes…”

The other cops exited their cars, approaching them quietly.

“There’s a warrant out for your arrest,” he said, much to Sam’s confusion.

Sam stepped in front of Bucky, “Look, the President pardoned him for all that.”

“Not for that,” the officer licked his lips as his eyes went to Bucky again, “You missed your court-mandated therapy. It’s like missing a check-in with your PO.”

Ah, right. Raynor. He thought he could get away from it, even for a short while. If Aftermath hadn’t been on his ass yet, then how come she has?

“I’m sorry Mr. Barnes, you’re under arrest,” the officer said, calmly leading Bucky towards the other car.

He glanced over at Sam as he went, but averted his gaze as soon as he saw the anger that was still pent up in him. The cop put cuffs onto his gloved hands and let him enter the car on his own accord. He gave Sam a shake of his head as he entered, silently hoping he’d just leave and focus on finding the Flag Smashers.

The kids and neighbors watching dispersed as the police drove off with Bucky in tow. Sam wanted to sigh in relief, but there was nothing but anxiety coursing through him.

Isaiah was still alone, and even now, he’s being wronged.

There are Super Soldiers out there putting people in danger.

And the one person who’s trying to help him was arrested. For missing a therapy session.

What a day it’s been.

— — —

Buccaneer Bay, Madripoor

The city was as crowded during the day as it was at night. It was mostly pickpockets and street vendors, selling stolen items into the Madripoorian open market. It was easy enough for (F/N) to blend in with the criminals and lowlifes on the island, especially with that faint but still intimidating scar that was displayed on her cheek.

No one paid her any mind, other than to stare her down as she walked down the crowded alleys. Anyone who held their gaze for too long would get a scowl back, one that sent shivers up their spine.

From the crowded Lowtown of the island, she had taken a motorcycle someone had carelessly left unchecked by the Princess Bar towards Buccaneer Bay, south of the island and much less crowded. There was someone she had to meet at the harbor, one with a little package from Xialing, her new friend from Macau.

The woman who nicked her face while Aftermath was investigating her fight club’s connections with the Ten Rings had somehow found out that she was in Madripoor and decided to send her a little something. All she got was a call from the woman herself, telling her she sent a man called Cedric to Buccaneer Bay to give her a present.

She called her 幻影战士, the Phantom Warrior; a little nickname Xialing gave her after their skirmish in the Golden Daggers Club. They’d had a talk after their fight, while Xialing was tending to her dislocated shoulder, and (F/N) was regretting not dodging the rope dart that came flying to her face. Somehow, they ended up on good terms, and (F/N) was dubbed a Phantom Warrior.

Only Xialing called her that, so she knew it was safe to trust her.

(F/N) hoped it was puppies, or pizza. As long as it wasn’t something that’ll explode in her face, or that weird Romanian guy with a machete arm.

She walked through the seaport, keeping her eyes and ears open for anyone lurking in the shipping containers.

Her focus was broken by her phone vibrating in her pocket. She stopped in her tracks and frowned as she dug it out.

It was Boone. If she was calling, something must have happened. Because they wouldn’t call if it were anything Ghost didn’t need to be involved in.

She pressed it to her ear, continuing her walk slowly. She stopped again when Boone told her, “Barnes was arrested in Baltimore. Firewire and I are on our way to get him out.”

(F/N) surveyed the ports carefully, the shock of the news sent her on higher alert. She drew back against one of the shipping containers. She clenched her teeth together, whispering with venom in her voice, “Why was he arrested and what the fuck was he doing in Baltimore?”

“Missed his mandatory therapy session,” Boone’s answer was punctuated by a loud bark from the distance, “Oh, and I’m bringing the dog. It’s my turn to walk him.”

She ignored the lighthearted reply, “Why was he in Baltimore?”

Boone cleared her throat, losing the humor in her voice, “We don’t know. That was where he and Wilson headed after Munich. Want me to give them a warning on your behalf?”

“Like that’s gonna work?” she scoffed, “Sic Moonshine on them if you have to. Hell, sic Firewire on them if that won’t work. Keep ‘em outta trouble, and keep them out of my way.”

“Oh, that’ll be easy-peasy, lemon squeezy,” she could hear Boone's eyes rolling, “I’ll call you later-”

“Don’t,” she said hurriedly, “Busy night. Might have a lot going on.”

Something was wrong… Someone followed her. They did a good job being quiet, but they were too quiet.

She didn’t bother with a goodbye; pocketing her phone, she took a deep breath and stepped back into the open.

She was right.

Right as she turned around a knife was slashing into her face. She stepped behind, looking the assailant in his eyes as she pushed her weight into one foot so the other could swing into his abdomen.

He doubled over, holding his side as he backed away. (F/N) grabbed him by the back of his jacket and flung him onto a shipping container, the clang of metal and bone echoing around them.

As she raised her fists, waiting for him to get up, another man–a bounty hunter came barreling towards her with a bat. He swung it hard, hitting her on the shoulder as she moved to block it.

The first bounty hunter had gotten up, limping, but still holding the knife in a tight grip.

A knife and a bat. No guns. This was a quiet job. But they had pistols hidden under their jackets. They didn’t want to make a scene unless she put up too much of a fight.

The two nodded to each other as they circled her.

Bat Guy took her on first, holding it in both hands and aiming for her head. She ducked underneath and stood flush to him, grabbing the bat and pulling it towards her. He didn’t let go, so she pushed it to his stomach and pushed into him till he collided with another shipping container. She kept the bat to his belly, digging into his flesh as she sent her elbow to his face.

His partner came to the rescue, running towards her and swinging it towards her face. She backed away again, still holding the bat as she kicked him away and pulled Bat Guy off the container and sent him colliding with the one across it.

As he groaned in pain, (F/N) jumped towards the other container, planting one foot on it to launch herself into the air and falling onto him, her fist smacking him onto the ground.

The hit made him loosen his grip on the bat and she took it in both her hands, swinging it onto his head.

The crunch of his skull was loud and red started to ebb onto the asphalt. (F/N) spun around, hitting Knife Guy in the abdomen again as he advanced behind her.

His rib had cracked, and his knife clattered to the ground. She knelt down to take it, with her other hand she grabbed him by the neck and pulled him into an empty shipping container, pushing him onto the ground.

The hinges creaked loudly as she pulled it closed, leaving a small gap for light.

Knife Guy was having a hard time getting up, but tried to crawl away from her. One leg was broken, so even if he cornered himself at the other end, he didn’t have much left to fight her.

“Any more of your friends coming to help you?” Her voice echoed in the narrow space, her eyes were fiery despite the darkness, her figure silhouetted by the small pricks of sunlight. She clicked her tongue at his silence, twirling his knife in her fingers as she walked closer. Tilting her head, she said in a threatening, low tone, “I asked you a question, dumbass. Answer it or I’m cutting off your tongue.”

He shook his head, panting, “He only hired two of us. He didn’t have much to offer.”

“So why’d you take the job?”

“He said… killing you was enough of a payment. That we’d be doing the boss a favor,” he winced in pain as he tried to move his leg, “We don’t know what he means but we wanted to see.”

Her brows furrowed, “See what?”

“Who you were and why he wanted you dead,” he said through gritted teeth.

She knelt down to his level as he pushed himself onto the wall, sitting up and meeting her fiery eyes, “Pray tell, who hired you?”

He shook his head vigorously, panic setting in his voice, “I already told you enough–FUCK!”

The knife glinted for only a millisecond as it flew down to his thigh, deep in his flesh. Her hand was still on the handle, threatening to push harder or twist or slash.

“Cedric! He’s waiting for us at the docks, he wants you dead! Cedric wants you dead!”

Shit.

The knife was pushed deeper into his thigh, making him scream.

“Xu Xialing wants me dead?”

He was crying now, maybe of fear, or of pain. He shook his head, “Who the fuck is that? I don’t know who that is!”

“Cedric’s boss. She sent him here,” her eyes narrowed and she leaned closer to his face, he yelped. “Did she send you three here to kill me?”

“No! I’ve never heard of her. Cedric is the Power Broker’s guy!”

He yelled as she pulled the knife out of his flesh, his hand flew up to try and press the wound, but it did nothing to stem the blood pouring out of him.

So the Power Broker knows she’s here. But there’s a chance she doesn’t know Ghost is here.

“You didn’t know who your target was but you agreed to do it? What, you got bills to pay?” She chuckled, holding the knife that was dripping with his blood. “Still don’t know who I am?”

He was gasping for breath, his lips trembling, “He only told us you had a scar, showed us a picture of you. Said we should catch you off guard… be quick… I’m sorry… I didn’t know…”

“No, you know who I am, pretty sure everyone here knows,” she said, smiling as she grabbed him by the hair, lifting his chin up and forcing him to look her in her eyes, “I’m Ghost.”

His eyes widened, and he started squirming in her hold. She never let go, watching his face go slack in the darkness as she sliced his throat open. He fell hunched over against the wall with a soft thud as she released him.

She wiped the blood on her hands on his jacket, throwing the knife across the container. She took the pistol from his waistband and emptied out the magazine, the bullets clinking as they hit the ground. The pistol was thrown across the container too as she stood up and left the container.

So Cedric was a double agent.

She needs to be more careful around here. And Xialing needs to do better background checks on her delivery guys.

---

Cedric was pacing the docks impatiently when she arrived. The case he had brought was on the tarmac, carelessly opened, probably by Cedric himself.

He rushed to close it when she finally arrived, looking at her with alarm. He was a curly haired blonde who hid his muscled stature with an overcoat. His brown eyes barely gave away his panic to see her still alive.

“You’re Phantom Warrior?” he said impatiently.

“幻影战士 ,” she nodded. “Cedric?”

“Yeah,” he kept his distance, stepping back ever so slightly when she neared him. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, you know how bar fights are,” she answered, feigning a casual tone, “Drunk guys with big fists have bigger egos. Sorry I’m late.”

He picked up the case and put it by her feet, nodding for her to open it. She pretended not to notice the way he looked her up and down, sizing her up.

“How’d your boss find me here?” she crossed her arms on her chest.

“You mean Xu Xialing?” his voice almost cracked.

“Obviously, I mean Xialing. Why, you got a side job at a McDonald’s or something?” she raised a brow at him.

“Oh…” his shoulders sagged slightly, thinking she didn’t suspect a thing. “She has people scouting the island for recruits, someone saw you. Was too scared to say hello, probably. Decided to tell the boss her friend was in Madripoor.”

She chuckled, and he relaxed even more.

“I think she sent you that ‘cause she thought you turned to bounty hunting or something. Said you might need it.”

“Well, nice to know she cares,” she shrugged, bending over to pick up the case. Whatever it was inside was light, and the case was small, its size akin to a lunchbox. She eyed him carefully, “Did she tell you what’s inside?”

He nodded, “But she said it was a surprise, so I can’t tell you.”

She raised her brows at that, shifting on her feet as she carried it with one arm. Her other hand clicked the latch and opened the case.

She smiled at the note that greeted her.

For 鬼 , my favorite Phantom Warrior

You said you wanted a rope dart too. Sorry, I’m not giving you the upper hand.

This is not a rope dart, but enough for your revenge for when we next meet; and your time in Madripoor and wherever else you plan to go.

Yours, 徐夏靈

She hummed, “That’s sweet of her. Terrifying, but sweet,” she pocketed the note and picked up the small cylinder nestled inside. It was shiny and sleek in her hand, designed like braided ropes that wove together. It was slightly heavier than the box it came in would suggest. It fit comfortably in her grip.

She closed the case and handed it back to Cedric, holding the cylinder up to study it more. It was customized just for her, a subtle orange glow coming from its seams. There was a small, almost unnoticeable switch on its center. She grazed it with her thumb. She looked over at Cedric, whose annoyed expression was hidden away the moment her eyes moved.

“What is it?” she asked with wonder.

“Hold it out, a bit away from you, then push the button,” he instructed.

She swung her arm out away from her and pushed the button, and it almost flew out of her grip as its interior extended into a staff. It was heavy but durable, easy to twirl around. The staff was made of sturdy wood, but the tips glowed silver, sleek and subtle, but eye-catching in the dark. The panels looked like scales and it glinted beautifully as she spun it.

It was a really cool present. Only the best from her, of course.

“Boss said it was made of dragon scales,” Cedric gazed at the staff with interest, “Seems pretty on the nose for her, if you ask me.”

She let out a low whistle as she twirled it around and laid it on her shoulder. She grinned at Cedric, “You okay if I give it a test run?”

“Go ahead, if you don’t mind me staying to watch,” he shrugged.

(F/N) shrugged, shifting on her feet. He grinned excitedly, waiting for her to make a show. He didn’t have much time to let the grin fall as she sent the staff into his ribs, making him double over and giving her a chance to slam it down his back and send him face first onto the tarmac.

“Xialing knows me too well,” she giggled, spinning it around as Cedric groaned on the ground. “It’s got a nice feel to it.”

“What the hell was that for?” he strained, coughing as he tried to lift himself off the ground.

The staff slammed into his back, keeping him on the ground. She kicked him in the rib to make him roll over and look up at her.

“It’s for sending a shitty pair of bounty hunters to kill me, you buffoon. Didn’t even get a lick in,” she clicked her tongue in disappointment, tilting her head as panic appeared in his brown eyes. “Couldn’t even hire someone decent after me? What do you think I am, a fuckin’ rookie?”

She guffawed, ignoring the way he glared at her. She sent him a glare back, one that made his face fall.

“So the Power Broker, your real boss… what’s his deal?”

He rolled his eyes, “The Power Broker wanted me to look into the ones moving into Madripoor. You were spotted a few times in town, and he got interested. Wanted me to bring your head back to him, especially when he found out you were a friend of a former associate.”

She rested the staff on the ground, holding it up as her other hand rested on her hip. Her eyes were narrowed, “Former associate? Xu Xialing?”

“Yeah, the woman was hard to please. And the Power Broker couldn’t–wouldn’t meet her demands,” he grunted, trying to lift himself up with his elbow. “It was a coincidence I used to my advantage.”

“Does the Power Broker know who I am?”

He eyed her carefully, “I don’t understand.”

She smirked with interest, “Why is he sending a bunch of sub-par assassins to new faces in the island?”

“He wanted to know why a… Captain (L/N) or some other name was wandering around the Island of Crime after her little stints with the Avengers. He was curious.”

“Oh, and what other things make him curious?” Cedric clamped his mouth shut, averting his gaze and staying on the ground. (F/N) rolled her eyes, lifting the staff and twirling it menacingly in the air, making a strong whipping sound that made Cedric flinch.

“Alright! Fine,” he scowled up at her, “He’s looking for people, monitoring everyone that comes in and out of Madripoor, looking for someone he’s mad at.”

“Who’s he mad at? Karli Morgenthau and her Merry Men?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I’ve got friends in high and low places.” She shrugged, tapping her fingers on the staff, “Tell me more about Karli.”

“No.”

His resolve was broken by the staff smashing into his cheek, splitting his lip.

“The Power Broker’s pissed. He sent her men to Slovakia after the Flag Smashers.”

Dissatisfied, she raised the staff again. He put a hand up, yelling for her to wait.

“That’s all I know about that! He doesn’t tell anyone anything. I don’t even know who the guy is!”

“You don’t even know your own boss?” she scoffed, “Oh, Cedric. Your stupidity is astounding.”

He rolled his eyes, wiping the blood off his lip, “What else do you wanna know?”

She grinned, “I like the cooperation. Who else is he looking out for?”

Cedric paused to think, “Ghost. He seemed pretty angry with him, probably because the guy killed her puppet in Manila. He was a favorite.”

“Ghost?” she smiled. “The Power Broker knows that guy?”

“That’s what he’s trying to find out,” Cedric said with interest, “Why? Do you work for him? Ghost?”

So Carter doesn’t know. Good.

“No… but I know him, Ceddy,” she smiled at him sweetly as she clicked the staff closed and unholstered her gun. She turned off the safety as his eyes widened, “And now you do, too. But you’re taking this little secret to the grave.”

There wasn’t any time for him to scream or beg. The shot was silent, and his blood was cold. She stepped away from him, pulling up her hood as she put the staff back in the case.

She grabbed her phone and dialed a number as she walked back to her motorcycle, swinging the case around as she hummed along to the ringtone.

“My Warrior!” Xialing laughed on the other end, “Did you like my gift? It might come in handy for you there.”

“I do, and it’s very handy. Thanks, Lingling,” she whispered the next part, “but that Cedric guy, you should be more thorough with your interview questions.”

“Why? What did Cedric do?” There was anger bubbling in Xialing’s voice.

“He was gonna swindle you and hired some puny assassins to take me out. He worked for the Power Broker.”

She cursed quietly in Mandarin, and then took a sharp breath, “I am assuming you’ve disposed of him now?”

“Oh, yeah. Gave the staff a test with him. Left him for the Power Broker as a present,” she heard Xialing scoff. She smiled, stopping by her motorcycle.

Xialing’s frown was evident in her voice, “I will make this up to you, (F/N). I’m sorry that Cedric put you in danger.”

“Danger?” she said with feigned offense, “You think I’d be stupid enough to go to Madripoor and think some dumbass and a couple of bounty hunters are dangerous? Xialing, you wound me.”

“I didn’t mean to underestimate you. If you want, I can pay you a visit and give you a real challenge.”

“If you’re planning on slicing my face open again, then no. Stay there,” she heard Xialing’s giggle on the other end, “I appreciate the present, Lingling, it really is beautiful. Is it really made of Dragon scales?”

“Of course it is (F/N), my friends only get the best from me,” a distant voice called Xialing away, and she shouted something back before returning to the phone, “Duty calls. Good luck on your Madripoor adventure, and I hope you use the staff well, my Phantom Warrior.”

“I will. Hope to see you soon, Golden Dagger.”

— — —

Baltimore Police Station | Baltimore, Maryland

There was a redheaded woman with a very excited dog sitting in the waiting room, casually swiping through her phone while a taller, blonde man was quietly speaking to the officer at the front desk.

Sam wouldn’t have recognized them if it weren’t for the woman’s piercing green gaze that caught his attention the moment he walked into the station. He looked around the room, giving the blonde a small wave before walking over to the green-eyed woman.

The dog jumped at his leg excitedly, making her look up from her phone and tug at his leash gently, “Calm down, Moonie. It’s just Sam.”

He smiled at her as he sat next to Boone, “Come to save the day?”

“To do a little favor for Moonshine’s daddy,” she patted the dog, looking over at Sam with a scowl, “And to tell the two of you to stop getting yourselves in trouble with the fucking law.”

He rolled his eyes, giving Moonshine a scratch behind his ear as he laid his head on his lap, “Look…”

“No, I get it. You’re doing your job, tryna figure out a problem. But, considering Bucky is now getting arrested while you’re out doin’ gods know what, and the fact that this whole mess is getting dangerously close to (F/N)-”

“Wait, where even is she?” Sam said softly, ignoring her glare at his interruption, “If she’s already tryna figure the same shit out as us, then why isn’t she here? She could help us.”

“Because she’s trying to figure out the root of the problem,” she spat, “You’re only seeing the tip of the iceberg, Wilson, and if you dig too deep and get involved in (F/N)’s mess, then she will kill me for letting you do something stupid. And then she’ll kill you for not listening to me the first time.”

Sam was a bit taken aback by how serious she was. If she was being straight with him, and barely giving him the time of day. He gestured to the front desk, where Belov was still distracting one of the cops.

“You’re trying to get Bucky out of prison because (F/N) told you to?”

“We want him out of prison because it’s pretty fucking stupid to put him in there in the first place,” Boone said with a roll of her eyes, “He doesn’t need court-mandated bullshit. It’s not care and recovery, it’s basically a weekly threat assessment. Those assholes don’t understand what Bucky needs, and they’re not working in his best interest.”

Sam nodded, agreeing silently. Sometimes, Boone was a lot of fun to be around, and her antics were amazing, thrilling; this was not one of those times. She was serious, and very, very pissed.

Belov walked back and gave Sam a short greeting, shimmying into the seat between Boone and the wall. Moonshine’s attention went to him instead.

“So?”

He gave Moonshine the sleek black card, which was promptly returned to Boone. Belov gave them a confused look, his American accent faltering slightly, “Someone already got him out.”

Sam frowned, “Who?”

Footsteps approached where the three of them sat. A woman stood by, her face stern as she looked at Sam.

Boone recognized her from months ago, when she gave Bucky a ride home from Westview. (F/N) told Boone about her, and she looked into Dr. Christina Raynor.

A psychoanalyst whose specialty was in PTSD and trauma recovery; though, her presence wasn’t exactly screaming calmness and patience. She was a soldier before she became a doctor. That was clear to see by her expression.

Both Sam and Boone stood up to greet her, but she only acknowledged Sam, reaching her hand out for him to shake, “Sam, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

Boone cocked her head to the side as Sam shook Raynor’s side.

She called him James. Weird, he only ever let (F/N) call him that. Was she calling him that simply because it was the first name on his file? Did she not ask him what he preferred to be called, or did she ignore that preference completely?

“So nice to meet you,” Sam said kindly, letting go of her hand and gesturing to Boone, “This is Boone, a good friend of ours.”

She plastered a kind smile on her face, holding Moonshine’s leash and hoping no one noticed the small growl he let out, “It’s good to meet you. My brother and I are here to pick Bucky up and get him home. So, if you don’t mind…”

“I only need to talk to James for a while, and then he can go home,” Raynor reassured.

Boone raised her brows, “You bailed him out for a therapy session?”

The doctor shook her head, “I wasn’t the one who bailed him out.”

Sam glanced over at Boone with equal confusion, “Then who did?”

Boone’s face fell when a voice called over to Raynor, “Christina!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she said, gritting her teeth and plopping back on the chair next to Belov. He looked to the door, spotting the man taking pictures and shaking hands with the officers, and grating on Boone’s nerves, “What the fuck is he doing here?”

Moonshine laid his head on her lap, noticing her upset.

As if his day couldn’t get worse, Sam had to deal with Walker again.

“It’s great to see you again,” Walker smiled at them warmly.

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmured to Raynor incredulously, “You know him?”

“Yeah, we did some field ops back in the day,” she said with a slight chuckle as Walker approached them.

Belov looked up at him with a scowl. He held Boone’s wrist, making her loosen her tight grip on Moonie’s leash, “Try not to let Moonshine loose on him, we will not like how that ends.”

“It’s tempting.”

“Беда…” he warned.

Walker didn’t seem to notice the two sitting by the corner, greeting Raynor and Sam, “I heard you were working with Bucky, so I thought I’d step in. Bucky’s not going to be following a strict schedule any longer.”

Raynor shook her head at him, “We haven’t finished our work. Who authorized this?”

Walker gestured to himself as if he had done them all a big favor, with a smile that almost made Belov change his mind about calming Moonshine down. The dog in question was growling at him, a loud bark threatening to come out as he fought against Boone’s grip on his leash.

“He’s too valuable of an asset to have tied up,” Boone’s eyes narrowed even more at that. It was an interesting choice of words that Raynor didn’t seem to really care about, “So just do whatever you gotta do with him, then send him off to me.”

When the door buzzed and a very agitated Bucky walked through, Boone stood up again, letting Moonshine run over to his owner. Sam glanced over at them, feeling relief wash over him as Bucky kneeled down to greet the dog.

“Got some unfinished business, him and I,” Walker said, making Boone do a double take. He walked away with a pointed look, “You too, Wilson. I’ll be outside.”

Boone raised her brow, watching Bucky rub behind Moonie’s ears, “So you were bailed out by Shmaptain Shmerica. What a damn honor.”

His eye twitched, standing up and glancing at Belov, “Can you get us outta here?”

“If we can sneak you past your therapist then sure,” she said, tilting her head. But Raynor was already stomping towards them.

“James, condition of your release: session. Now,” she pointed at Sam, calling him over as she walked toward the doors, “You too, Sam.”

“No, that’s okay, I’ll be out here with Boone-”

She interrupted Sam with an aggressive, “That wasn’t a request!”

Boone handed Moonshine’s leash to Bucky, stepping in front of the doctor and trying her best not to punch her, “Excuse me, ma’am, a session? Here?”

“It’s the condition of his release,” she shrugged.

“At a police station? I mean, that’s unprofessional, and I don’t think it would help the situation-”

“What was your name again?” Raynor cut her off, glaring at her.

Boone stuck her chin up, “Boone Cavanaugh, ma’am. A friend of Bucky’s. I’m only trying to look out for him, and right now’s not the time for you to start berating him and calling it therapy.”

“Ms. Cavanaugh, you need to let me do my job. James isn’t getting out of jail until I do it, so step out of the way. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

With that, Raynor walked away, with Bucky following. He handed over Moonshine’s leash with an apologetic look, walking past Boone to follow his therapist.

She was speechless, and seething with anger. Boone was contemplating whether or not to let Moonshine run in and give Raynor what she deserved, but her thoughts were interrupted by Sam’s hand on her shoulder.

“I’m kinda bummed (F/N) only said to sic Moonshine on you, and not on shitty doctors,” she mumbled, making Sam breathe out a laugh. “Meet us outside when you’re done, alright?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, rolling his eyes as he moved towards the door. He looked back as he went in, seeing that Boone, Belov, and Moonshine the dog had already vanished.

---

An interrogation room was hardly the place for a nice, calm therapy session. But Raynor was insistent, even after Boone shot daggers out of her eyes towards her. Maybe she’s just really, really bad at reading the signs.

She slammed her notebook down the metal table, “So… Who would like to start?”

Bucky sat to Sam’s right, his head tilted away from both him and the doctor. Sam was as done with the whole thing as he is.

“Alright, look… Dr. Raynor?” she nodded, he sighed, “I get it, why you want me to talk to Freaky Magoo over here…”

Bucky ignored the quip, still not looking at Sam and pursing his lips in annoyance.

“…But I’m one hundred percent fine.”

Raynor nodded, taking her eyes off Sam and to Bucky, “It is my job to make sure that you’re okay. And so yeah, this may be slightly unprofessional, but it’s the only way that I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you.”

Sam rolled his eyes in disbelief, “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

Raynor seemed a bit satisfied, “See? Making progress already,” she put her hands back on her lap, giving them both a judging look, “So, who wants to go first?”

Sam fell silent, folding his hands on his lap.

“No volunteers? Wow, how surprising,” her voice was dripping with sarcasm. She straightened again, “Okay, we’re going to do an exercise. It’s something I use with couples when they’re trying to figure out what kind of life they wanna build together.”

Bold of her to assume Bucky wants to build anything with Sam.

“Are you familiar with the miracle question?” she asked them.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky answered, in chorus with Sam’s impatient, “Of course not.”

“Okay, it goes like this,” Raynor shifted her notebook closer to her, “Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something you would like to see that would make your life better?”

“In my miracle,” Bucky jumped at the chance, looking at Sam with casual disdain, “He would… he would talk less.”

Sam returned the look, “Exactly what I was gonna say. Isn’t that ironic?”

Bucky smiled at his deadpanned response. Why was he finding joy in being an asshole?

… He’s had a long day.

“You guys are leaving me with no choice,” Raynor huffed, “It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

Bucky perked up, “I like this better.”

“Oh my god,” Sam smirked, “He’s gonna love this.”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he nodded at Sam, practically buzzing in anticipation.

“This is right up your alley,” Sam remarked, hating Bucky’s sudden excitement.

Raynor raised her arms, directing them to move their chairs, “Turn around. Face each other.”

Bucky immediately swiveled his chair around, facing Sam, who was still in his seat.

“You should really enjoy this,” Sam said with a slight nod.

Bucky could barely hide his smile, “I’m going to!”

“I know you are,” Sam said, finally lifting his seat and turning towards Bucky.

“Alright, face each other,” Raynor’s directions were suddenly just noise in the wind. Bucky was having a bit too much fun.

“Let’s do it. Let’s stare,” he nodded at Raynor with approval, the first time he actually wanted to cooperate with her, “This is a good exercise. Thanks, Doc.”

They sat face to face, not daring to look at the doctor that put them up to this. Bucky straightened, losing his excited grin and clenching his jaw as Sam scowled at him.

“Alright, get close.”

They grabbed their chairs, pushing themselves closer to each other until their knees were touching.

“Closer.”

Bucky was about to move forward when Sam shifted in the same direction. He fell back, obliging him to move first, “Which way do you wanna go?”

“Do you have to have your legs open?” Sam said angrily.

“Right or left?”

“You know what, fine. Here,” Sam moved closer, slotting his leg between Bucky’s. It kept them both secured in their seats, with nowhere else to look but at each other. “You happy now?”

Bucky nodded, trying to shift his leg, but finding no space, “Alright.”

“Good, that’s fine,” Raynor broke up their banter, getting tired of her patient’s childishness.

“We’re locked in,” Sam quipped despite Raynor’s interjection.

Bucky looked almost impressed with how close they were and how he hadn't slammed his knee into Sam, “It’s a little close!”

“Very close!” Sam agreed, “That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Guys!”

Bucky fell silent, immediately regretting being here. Part of him hoped this would end quickly and he could get out of here. The other was silently thinking of how something like this would play out if (F/N) was seeing it.

“Now look at each other,” Raynor instructed. Sam glared at her, “You need to look at each other in the eyes.”

Bucky was worrying his lip between his teeth, looking up at Sam with thinly veiled disdain. Sam tried to hold eye contact.

“There, you see? That wasn’t so hard.”

Silence fell in the room, making the air feel heavy. None were talking; it was just Sam and Bucky, staring each other down. Neither moved, it was tense.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

They ignored Raynor, focusing only on each other. Sam twitched, almost giving up. Bucky lowered his head, but his gaze was steady.

“Are you having a staring contest?”

Bucky smiled slightly as Sam tried very hard not to blink.

“Just,”–she snapped her fingers between them, catching Sam off-guard and making him close his eyes. He looked at her annoyed, shaking his head with defeat. “Sweet Jesus.”

Bucky looked so proud of himself.

“All right, James, why does Sam aggravate you?” he smiled at her query, and he was about to say something smart again when Raynor stopped him, “And don’t say something childish!”

He licked his lips, losing his smile. His head only went to one place that had been bothering him all day; it bothered him everytime he looked at the man in front of him.

“Why’d you give up that shield?”

Sam looked up at him, losing his patience. “Why are you making such a big deal out of something that has nothing to do with you?”

Nothing to do with Bucky?

That shield was everything he had left of Steve. Was what Bucky had left of the life he had before the war, before he was robbed of his freedom. Steve was willing to raise it up against anyone so he could live and be free. It was his hope. It was the remnants of his family. And Sam thinks it has nothing to do with him?

“Steve believed in you. He trusted you. He gave you that shield for a reason,” his voice grew stronger, rising along with his hurt, “That shield… that is everything he stood for. That is his legacy. He gave you that shield, and you threw it away like it was nothing.”

“Shut up,” Sam tried.

Bucky ignored him, his anger rising and his voice trembled, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me!”

He fell back into his chair, taking short and hurried breaths. He fought against the tears that were threatening to fall, clenching his jaw and meeting Sam’s eye again.

“You finished?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded to Raynor, bringing his eyes back to Sam. His voice came out softer than he wanted it to.

He hurt Sam, it was clear to see. But he’d been hurt too. Everything that had been going on in his head, being alone with his thoughts and having nobody there to talk to, it turned grief into anger, and anger into something more venomous than he wanted it to be.

“Alright, good,” Sam started. His eyes hardened, “Maybe this is something you or Steve will never understand. But can you accept that I did what I thought was right?”

Bucky dropped his head, biting his lip to avoid saying what he was feeling.

Sam scoffed at him, turning to Raynor with a frown, “You know what, Doc? I don’t have time for this. We have some real serious shit goin’ on. So how about this?”

He faced Bucky again, his tone harsh, “I will squash it right now. We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations. And never see each other again.”

“I like that,” Bucky said softly.

“Great. Well, let’s get to work,” he tilted his head back to Raynor, who had gotten on everyone’s nerves tonight. “Thanks, Doc, for making it weird. I feel much better.”

Somehow, he couldn’t wait to see what Boone would do after Raynor talked down to her a few minutes ago. That wasn’t something you could do without getting something back.

“I’ll see you outside,” he backed up his chair and stood up, patting Bucky sharply on his metal arm. He didn’t even flinch when the hit echoed in the dark room.

He ignored Raynor’s half-hearted thanks, walking out to find Boone and Belov.

Bucky barely looked at her when he stood up to follow Sam.

“I know that look. What’s wrong?” Raynor said, feigning gentle concern.

He stopped, “What was rule number two again?”

“Don’t hurt anyone,” she blinked.

He had broken that rule. He hopes Sam could forgive him for it.

“Goodbye, Doc.”

---

Moonshine had jumped up at Sam’s feet before he saw the dog. His excited yips and barks brought a smile to his face. Boone whistled, calling Moonshine back.

“That’s usually not a face you’re supposed to be making after a therapy session,” Boone said with her crooked smile, “I’ll have to see what I can do about Raynor. She’s not doing Bucky any good.”

“I was hoping you’d do more than that,” he shrugged, opening his hand out for Moonshine. “You’re still trying to tell us to stop, aren’t you?”

“Ehhh, kinda waiting for Bucky to show up so you can both hear it.”

Bucky came out just then, diverting Moonshine’s attention to his owner. Boone had to let go of the leash so he could say hello to him.

He picked up the leash, walking next to Sam.

“Well, I feel better,” Sam said with a slight upturn in his voice.

“I feel awful,” Bucky said monotonously.

Belov came next to them, opening his mouth to say something, when he was interrupted by a siren whooping nearby.

Leaning on one of the cruisers were Lemar Hoskins and John fuckin’ Walker.

“Why the fuck is he still here?” Boone muttered, taking Moonshine’s leash and gently pulling the dog away. Her thumb hovered on the buckle, wondering if she should let him go and bite him.

Belov cleared his throat in warning, seeing the way Boone’s eyes glinted, “Don’t think about it or you’ll end up doing it.”

Walker waved at them, “Gentlemen!”

Sam glanced behind them at Boone and Belov. The blonde nodded, “We’ll be right here. Try not to punch him, please?”

He nodded, walking slowly towards John beside Bucky.

He smiled brightly at them, “Good to see you again.”

Lemar glanced up at them, noticing the figures in the distance and nudging John. He nodded towards the redhead holding the barking dog, “We know her, don’t we?”

“Who?”

“The redhead, over there.”

Bucky stepped in front of them, blocking their view, “Alright, what do you want?”

Lemar moved to the side, still wondering who she was, “We’ll have to say hi.”

“Yeah, later, we got a job to do,” Walker pulled him back, turning to Sam and Bucky, “Okay, look. If we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance, you guys know that.”

Bucky leaned on another car, looking at the two impatiently.

Sam rolled his eyes, “So what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

“They geotagged a location, then scrambled the signal,” Walker looked back at Lemar as he explained, “But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

Walker hummed, “We think that she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of these camps.”

“Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip,” Bucky said, slight sarcasm coming through, “So I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?” he smiled.

Bucky’s frustration soared, “Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

Walker’s voice rose as well, “No, we don’t know, Bucky… But it’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

Ah, so he has a weakness after all.

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

There he went again, finding joy in being an asshole. Hey, at least this time Walker deserved it. And the look on Walker’s face made him want to keep going.

Sam cut in before he could make another quip, walking between them. “Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them.”

He glared at Walker, “But you guys have rules of engagement and all kind of authorizations you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more… flexible.”

Walker twitched, his nerves getting the better of him.

“So it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you,” Sam paid him no mind, moving to leave with Bucky. Boone and Belov were silently following them, closing the distance.

“A word of advice, then,” Walker’s voice made them freeze and look back at him. His polite smile was gone and his eyes were suddenly dark, “Stay the hell outta my way.”

He and Lemar turned to go, almost colliding with Boone and Belov. Walker’s leg almost tangled on Moonshine’s leash.

She mumbled an apology, moving around him and pulling Moonshine away from Walker. It was much harder, considering the dog was baring his teeth at Walker and growling aggressively at them.

Lemar nodded at her, “Hey, I know you, don’t I?”

Boone looked up at him, “Oh no, no you don’t.”

“No, we do,” Walker said, looking her up and down, “Your Dugan’s friend. You were with him when he got his Purple Heart.”

A smile broke through his face, paired with his still dark eyes, it was unsettling, “And you broke my damn nose.”

She hummed, breaking out a grin. She gave Belov a quick look before raising her brow at Walker, “Glad the punch didn’t affect your memory, Walker.”

Lemar chuckled, looking up at Belov, “Who’s this guy? Your boyfriend?”

“Her brother,” Belov said. His accent was smooth, and his stance was protective. Lemar didn’t notice the tall blonde’s balled fists, “We should get going, we’ve got shit to do.”

Walker smiled at him, “We shouldn’t keep you, we’ve got things to do as well.”

“Obviously,” she looked at the uniform he was wearing up and down.

Boone and Belov were about to step away when he said, “How’s he doing by the way? Hope he didn’t spend all these years still groveling.”

Boone’s blood boiled, “What the hell did you say?”

Moonshine picked up on her tone, growling again. Belov held onto Boone’s hand, willing her to relax before she hurled her fist at Walker.

“Haven’t heard from the guy in a while. I was hoping he didn’t turn himself into white trash.”

Belov leaned into Boone’s ear, pulling her back, “Позволь мне сделать это.” Let me do it.

She took a step back, pulling Moonshine with him and watching as Belov smiled at Walker.

Before any of them could anticipate it, Belov’s fist went flying to Walker’s cheek, sending him to the ground curled up in pain. Lemar’s hand took hold of Belov’s shoulder, and he gripped onto his hand, staring into Lemar’s eyes and making him shudder.

“Tell your friend here that if he says anything about my friends again, I’ll knock off his teeth,” he whispered threateningly. He threw off Lemar’s hand, leaving him speechless. Boone smiled as Belov joined her side and she waved at them, almost sweetly.

They headed to Bucky and Sam, who had seen and heard the whole interaction. Belov huffed, shaking his head, “I should have gone for the nose.”

Bucky was smiling, looking back at Walker as he held his bruising cheek. He turned to Sam, “We should have recorded that.”

Sam chuckled, but his face fell when he saw Boone’s expression. “You gonna tell us to back off, aren’t you?”

“I don’t wanna tell you to stop, because we all know you won’t,” Bucky rolled his eyes, shifting his feet. He gave Moonshine a pet, standing beside Boone. “But the best I can do, is to tell you not to do anything stupid. Can I trust you to remember that?”

She looked between the two of them, “Because if you do anything stupid, Moonshine’s got a killer bite. And he’s a very high jumper.”

Sam frowned at the dog, who didn’t seem to match the description. He was sweet and energetic, loud and somewhat clumsy. But, he didn’t want to confirm Boone’s description either.

Bucky laughed, “Did (F/N) put you up to this?”

Belov raised a brow, “Wouldn’t it be worse for you if she did?”

Boone shook her head, pulling Moonshine away from Bucky as she walked forward, “Do what you need to do. But you get hurt, or you get in her way, and we’re all going to get in trouble.”

Her blonde counterpart followed her as she walked away, looking back at them as they turned the corner, “Ghost would appreciate it if you two listened.”

When Sam and Bucky peeked at the corner they had left in, they weren’t too surprised to find the three of them already gone.

They walked away together, not really knowing where to go from here.

“So now, we’ve got Walker and Aftermath trying to bite our ass,” Sam said with frustration.

“Well, they don’t know where we’re going,” Bucky reasoned.

“Yeah, and neither do we,” Sam said. He caught the look on Bucky’s face, contemplative, and somewhat mischievous, “Oh, God. You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The look you get when you’re about to do something stupid. Which, we were told not to do five seconds ago, by a bunch of people who could kill us if they wanted to.”

Bucky scoffed, “We’re not gonna do anything stupid. I promise.”

“Bucky, I don’t want Ghost swooping in to whoop my ass,” he whispered harshly.

“She won’t,” Bucky reassured with a scowl, “I know what we have to do.”

Sam gave him a look. One he pointedly ignored.

“When Isaiah said ‘my people’…”

“Oh, don’t take that to heart,” Sam’s voice softened, “That’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant HYDRA,” Bucky said, taking Sam by surprise, “HYDRA used to be my people.”

Sam already knew where he was going with this. And it wasn’t exactly stupid, but it was dangerous. He scoffed, “Not a chance.”

Bucky shook his head, “Walker doesn’t have any leads.”

“I know where you’re going with this, and no.”

“He knows all of HYDRA’s secrets,” Bucky reasoned, “Don’t you remember Germany?”

“So you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?” Sam said with bewilderment.

How was he even suggesting this?

This is stupid.

And Bucky knew it was stupid, because he hesitated, “…Yes…”

Sam sighed. They had nowhere else to turn, it was the only way.

“Okay, then,” they stopped walking, and he tried to trust the look on Bucky’s face, “We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

Bucky already had a plan brewing in his head. He already took what he needed for when he next met him, having picked an Aftermath card out of Boone’s coat pocket, which he prayed she’ll never notice.

All he needed to prepare now was himself, to see someone he wished he’d never have to see again.

Colonel Helmut Zemo.

He had a feeling the guy was going to kill him. But if they were going to do this, (F/N) would kill them all first.

//

tagged: @darke15 | @turtleedovee

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Broken Down (p.2)

Pairings: Arvin Russell x F!Reader (I just realized that though there’s a few little flirty parts or thoughts, it’s actually pretty platonic and open ended) 

Summary: (Part 2 of Broken Down) After escaping from Carl and Sandy, you and Arvin find yourselves in Knockemstiff. Little did either of you know, there was somebody else following you there. 

Warnings: Murder, Mention of Suicide, Canonical gore and violence, Reference to sexual assault but no depictions

Word Count: 6.6k

Find Part 1 here!

_________

Meade was the last big town until you hit Knockemstiff and you had decided to pull off at a gas station to fuel up to avoid accidentally running out of gas in the middle of nowhere. When the car’s tires rolled to a crunching halt, Arvin jumped out to pump the gas for you. You stepped out of the car and stood beside him while the tank filled with fuel. “What do you wanna do when we get to Knockemstiff? It seems like why ever you’re here is pretty personal so I understand if you wanna do this alone.” 

“Where ‘re you gonna go?” He dodged the question, the pump clicking to a stop in the background. He moved to shake the last few drops from the nozzle before replacing it at the pump. 

You and Arvin had talked a bit on your long overnight trip about your lives and your plans. He had told you that he was from Coal Creek and admitted to murdering a preacher named Preston Teagarden that impregnated his adopted sister, Lenora, which led her to committing suicide. He had told you all about this monster of a human and why he felt he had to do what he did and, though it felt twisted to genuinely support the murder of somebody, you couldn’t help but support Arvin’s actions. When you asked what was so special about Knockemstiff, he confessed that it was where he used to live, where his parents had died. 

Arvin had never found himself the overly talkative or trusting type. Coal Creek residents only seemed to judge him and his family, from bullies to the richer folk who looked down on his family simply for not having much money. There was something special about you though, and perhaps it was some unspoken bond that came about from nearly being murdered and then murdering said murderers, but it made him feel like he could open up to you more than he’d ever felt with anyone. 

You told him about your life and family thus far. You told him about your hometown of Barren Springs, not that there was really much to tell. It was just some small town full of cows and churchgoers. When he asked you what you were gonna do after today, you really weren’t sure. Hell, you were barely sure what you were doing now. 

You looked around at the surprisingly clean gas station before picking at your nails, “I don’t really know. Figured I’ll drive around for a few days. Maybe head back to Meade after I drop you off and stay here for a few until the story comes out in the newspaper. Just gotta make sure they don’t have any leads, y’know?” 

Arvin adjusted his baseball cap, “You ain’t gotta just disappear. I mean, you been mighty kind givin’ me a ride all the way out here but I don’t wanna just use you for a ride ‘n send you on your way. Not after everythin’.” He paused to think for a moment. His story wasn’t a pleasant one and his entire point in coming all the way out here was to try and find some peace with all ghosts in his closet. It was a personal journey, one that he didn’t really want anyone else to join in on, but he really did feel terrible just using you for a ride so far away and leaving you alone.  “‘M gonna go visit my old home from back when I was a boy. There’s some things I gotta do there. It’s, uh, it’s somethin’ I gotta do alone. You’re more than welcome to leave me here if you wanna go somewhere else but I don’t want to make you feel like I just used you for a ride.” 

You chewed your lip to hide the small way the corner of your mouth turned upwards at his ever-courteous manner. “Well what’re you gonna do after all this? You gonna be able to make it wherever you need to go?” 

“I ain’t got anywhere to go but I’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry ‘bout me,” he admitted, leaning against the car beside you. 

You looked up at him with your arms crossed, “How ‘bout I wait in town till you’re done doin’ what you need to do and then you can come stay with me in Barren Springs until you get a plan. It’s better for you to know where you wanna go and what you wanna do before running off.” 

Arvin’s eyes narrowed skeptically, “You sure you’re alright with that? I don’t wanna put you out anymore than you’ve already done for me.” He was never one for charity and didn’t want to take anything he felt like he couldn’t reciprocate. 

You nodded, pressing yourself off the side of the car and swinging towards the driver's side of the car, “It’s no problem, really. Now how much further to Knockemstiff?” 

** 

The drive to Knockemstiff wasn’t long at all and within the hour you and Arvin found yourselves driving along the road that he found hauntingly familiar. Even so, everything looked so different. Arvin couldn’t imagine the town changing much over the last eight or so years so he figured that the place just must have felt darker and grimmer with the ghosts of the tragedies that took place there. 

“Where’s your house?” You leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer further ahead up the road, trying to see through the thin layer of condensation that had built up on the inside of your window from the contrast of the heated interior with the dreary drizzly outside. 

Arvin gestured up the road you were headed down, “Should be just up there but it’s been a while.” You could see the way the road split off into a fork just up ahead and you could tell by Arvin’s face that he wasn’t quite sure which road was the right one. 

“Should we ask someone?” You pointed towards a small building up ahead, pulling over when Arvin nodded. 

The pair of you got out of the car to see an older man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch. “Howdy,” he greeted with a thick accent, “You pair look like you been travellin’. Where you headed?” 

Arvin shoved his hands in his pockets as he answered, hiding beneath the brim of his hat from the rain. You shielded your face with your hand from the mist, tiny droplets accumulating on your eyelashes. “There used to be a house and a barn up on that hill over there. Some lawyer owned it. You know it?” 

“Sure I do. Up in the Mitchell Flats.” The man answered sure as could be. 

“Still there?” 

The man leaned back, eyeing Arvin, “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re that Russell boy ain’t you?”

You felt the way Arvin tensed up a little beside you, clearly not comfortable with the legacy he seemed to have in this town, but stepped forward nonetheless. You followed him under the shelter of the porch awning, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I just thought, seeing as I was this way, I’d stop by and see the old place again.” 

The man sighed heavily and stood, “Son, I hate to tell you this but that place burned some years ago. They think some kids did it. Wasn’t nobody livin’ there since you and your folks.” 

“Well, heck, we came all this way. May as well walk up there anyways.” Arvin insisted. 

The man’s eyes flicked over to you and back to Arvin, “Sure, just cut across Clarence’s pasture. Don’t know if you remember but there’s some pretty flowers growin’ up there this time of year for your girl there, too. He won’t mind if you take a few.” He glanced at you with implying eyes and you tensed up. 

“Oh, uh, we’re not- it ain’t like that.” You stammered over your words, hands waving slightly with a flustered chuckle. 

The man put his hands up, “My bad, ma’am. Just figured since you two were…” he paused and cleared his throat, “well, anyways. It’s nice to know you’re doing alright, son.” 

Arvin nodded in a brief farewell before turning to head back to the car and you followed, only stopping when he turned back to the man on the porch, “I never did thank you for the night my dad died. You were awful kind to me and I just want you to know that I ain’t never forgot it.” 

Even though you didn’t know the extent to which Arvin had suffered that night, the fact that he was thanking this old man that barely recognized him for the good deeds of nearly a decade ago spoke miles in your opinion. You stood back silently, knowing that this was his path to healing and resolution and that, at least for now, you were merely a spectator. 

“You had that pie smeared all across your face,” the man reminisced almost as if it were a happy memory, “Damn Bodecker thought it was blood. Remember that?” 

You looked at the ground with a silent chuckle at the thought of Arvin as a young boy with pie smeared across his face but that faded when you heard the way he said, “Yeah, I remember everything about that night,” with such heaviness. 

“He ain’t the lawman that I expected,” he continued, “Shame about his sister though.” 

“Why? What happened?” 

“His sister and her husband were found dead. Not far from Meade.” 

Your heart stopped beating and you glanced over at Arvin to find him already casting a nearly imperceptible but highly aware glance at you. “That’s awful. They know what happened?” You questioned, trying to force as much sincerity into your tone as possible. There was no telling with certainty that Bodecker’s sister and her husband were Sandy and Carl but that would be a huge coincidence for two different couples to wind up dead not far from Meade on the same day. 

The man nodded, “Last I heard, they don’t know for sure. I got a friend who’s son works in the sheriff’s department, though. Said they thought it was a murder-suicide at first but found bullets from a gun that they couldn’t find at the crime scene so they ain’t so sure no more. Looks like they’re investigating it as a murder.” 

Your mouth fell open, trying to find the words that would secure your innocence, as if this man had any reason to believe you were guilty anyways, but it took a moment for you to find your voice, “That’s terrible. I hope they figure out what happened,” you lied, less convincingly than you hoped but this man had no reason to not believe you.  

He nodded in agreement, “Yeah, real unfortunate to hear. But, uh, I won’t keep you any longer. You two stay safe out there.” He waved the pair of you off and you and Arvin returned to the car. 

The second both doors were securely shut, you let out a breath of air you weren’t aware you’d been holding, “We’re fucked, ain’t we?” 

“They ain’t got no reason to suspect us.” Arvin tried to reassure but the way he gripped onto his thighs tightly made you nervous. 

“He said they found bullets that didn’t match the guns at the scene. Did you pick up the bullets at the church? Can they trace the gun back to you?” Your questions flew frantically, pulling out onto the road and following the fork that the man had pointed down earlier. 

Arvin nodded, fingers rolling over the lumps in his pocket where the empty cases had been residing since yesterday. “Yeah, I picked ‘em up. ‘M pretty sure I got ‘em all.” 

You let out a shaky breath, feeling sick to your stomach, “Good,” You lied, feeling anything but, “good.” 

***

You sat at the tiny diner in town at a booth all to yourself, sipping at a soda and picking at a basket of fries. At first, you had thought that you could possibly read the book you’d packed into your bag for the trip but it sat on the table beside the napkin dispenser, untouched since you set it down after giving up at trying to read after your third time rereading the same paragraph and retaining no information. 

How could you read at a time like this? No matter how much you thought you had processed what had happened over the last twenty-four hours, it felt like the reality never truly weighed in. They knew that there was an additional gun so they knew someone else was involved. Carl and Sandy were murdered and the police knew it.

And of course Sandy would turn out to be the fucking sheriff’s sister! Just your luck, right? Carl probably could have disappeared and nobody would have noticed but the sheriff’s sister was going to be a hard one to hide from, especially now knowing that they suspected foul play. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect us, you breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself. 

The picked at basket of fries hadn’t been nearly as much comfort as you had hoped and your soda was none too great a therapist either. You didn’t realize you’d actually miss Arvin, the man you’d only known less than twenty-four hours, when you’d only dropped him off at the site of his old home thirty minutes ago but there was a loneliness now that made you uneasy. When Arvin was around, the last day’s events felt bearable but now that you were alone, the paranoia gnawed at you. 

Reaching for the ice cold Coca-Cola brand glass full of soda, you dragged it towards you, the sparkling liquid fizzing against your tongue as you took a long sip. Focus on the bubbles. Focus on the bubbles. Arvin will be done soon and you can get the hell out of Knockemstiff and as far from the crime scene as possible. 

There was a light chime from the small bell that hung over the door that drew your attention and you watched a tall dark haired man walk in, looking around like he owned the place. One of the waitresses walked right up to him with a warm smile, “Heya Sheriff! What can I get you?” 

Your blood ran cold at the realization of who this was and your fears were only confirmed when he turned and you could see the heavy expression in his eyes, “‘M not here for food, Sally. You seen a boy and girl come through here? They’re both young and pretty good looking. He’s kinda average height, brown hair?,” he went on to describe you briefly as well before continuing, “Might have been hitchhiking.” 

As casually as you could, you picked up the book and buried your face in it, letting your hair drape over the sides of your face to conceal yourself as much as possible. Sally thought for a moment, “Hm, we get the usual hitchhikers through here. The boy got a name?” 

“Arvin Russell.” Bodecker’s voice was flat and serious and the waitress could tell that he was in no mood for stretching this out. 

She shook her head apologetically, “‘M sorry, Bodecker. I ain’t seen nobody come through here with that name or a new couple at all. I saw Henry talkin’ to a pair who might’ve matched that description though. Saw ‘em on my way into work. Couldn’t see ‘em too well but sounds like they might have had the same hair color. I don’t know… they didn’t look familiar though. Maybe check with him?” 

It was amazing how your breath could reverberate so loudly off the thick walls of paper that shrouded your face from view. Your heart pounded in your chest as you continued to eavesdrop in silence. “Yeah, I’ll go do that. Thanks, Sal.” 

You peeked over your book to see her nod and perch up on her toes while she gestured to the kitchen, “Can I get you somethin’ for the road? Coffee maybe? You know it’s on the house.” 

Bodecker just shook his head, a solemn look on his face, the look of a man on a mission, “Nah, I better just head out.” With that he walked out the door and you watched him carefully as he climbed into his police car and drove off down towards the old man’s house that you and Arvin had been at not more than an hour ago. 

This was bad. 

As quickly as you could, you paid for your meal and hustled out to your car, practically throwing yourself into the driver’s seat and speeding down the road after the officer. If he was stopping at the old man’s - Henry, as you just learned - house, that could possibly give you enough time to find Arvin at his house and drive off before Bodecker could even find the pair of you. 

Your knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as you sped down the road, grateful that the roads were mostly empty at this time of day. The only sound was the wheels spinning against the asphalt and you talking aloud to yourself, trying to devise a plan. “Just get there before Bodecker, pick up Arvin, get the hell outta dodge.” You repeated it over and over again as if it were that simple. 

Soon, you passed Henry’s humble abode and, sure enough, the sheriff’s car was parked just outside and you saw his large figure questioning the old man. Neither of them paid your passing car any mind, which you were grateful for as you peeled off down the left fork of the road, the one that led up to the Mitchell Flats. 

You pulled up to the flat area that only had remnants of a house’s foundation now. Slabs of cement were the only signs that a house ever was here, mostly broken from years of abuse from the elements and teenagers. When you pulled up, you noticed that Arvin was nowhere to be seen. “Shit!” You hissed, jumping out of the car and jogging down towards his backyard, the direction he had headed when you dropped him off earlier. He couldn’t have made it far. 

“Arvin!” You called out, arms reaching out in a desperate attempt to keep your balance as your feet skidded every few steps along the leaves and moss that slicked the hill you hustled down. “Arvin!” 

“I really need you to fucking respond…” You groaned the words meant for Arvin aloud to yourself as you nearly tripped over logs on your trek through the woods. The trees all looked the same and you kept glancing behind you to ensure that you weren’t going in circles, often choosing little landmarks, like that one log that had mushrooms growing on it, to make sure you could find your way back. 

Finally, you saw Arvin’s form kneeling before an eerie wooden cross, his white t-shirt dirty from several days of less than ideal situations. You ran towards Arvin, tripping slightly over a few rocks here and there along the way. He turned, ears perked up at the sound of your footsteps. “Arvin! Thank God I found you. We gotta go. Bodecker’s onto us. He came into the diner looking for us and is at Henry’s now.” 

Arvin stood up hastily, “Where’s the car?” 

“Up by where your house used to be.” You pointed over your shoulder in the direction you came from, “C’mon! If we leave now we might be able to get outta here before-” There was the distinct rustle of footsteps coming from uphill that made you freeze. Your voice lowered to nearly a whisper, “Did you hear that?” 

Arvin froze as well, the only sound being your breathing, as you both waited for the sound again. Sure enough, there was a rustle of footsteps again. “Arvin Russell! I know you’re down there somewhere!” Bodecker’s voice rang through the forest clear as day, “You ‘n that girl you’re with. I know y’all are out there.” 

Arvin literally tackled you to the ground and hugged your body close to his as he rolled the both of you into a small crevice between a fallen tree and a hole beneath it. He pressed you close into the tree, hiding you as far into the small space as he could while he fumbled around in his pocket for his gun. 

“It’s Sheriff Bodecker, kids! I just got some questions to ask you!” 

Arvin perched up on his elbows to try and peer over the log. You reached up and fisted his shirt, trying to drag him back down. “What the hell are you-” 

A gunshot blasted through the empty forest and both you and Arvin flinched aggressively. His body dropped against yours and you held his chest tightly, burying yourself in his body and pulling him as close to you as possible, concealed in the shelter of the log. You let out a tiny shriek of surprise that you muffled by biting your thumb. His arms wrapped around your body in both an attempt to shield you but also as a knee jerk reaction looking for safety himself in you. 

“Sorry ‘bout that! Goddamn bird scared me!” Bodecker breathed heavily somewhere to the west of where you were, his footsteps getting closer and closer. “I ain’t here to hurt you! And I know that y’all don’t wanna hurt me. Come on out so we can have us a talk!” 

While Bodecker spoke his lies, Arvin laid back on his back and fumbled around with his gun yet again, this time gripping it and loading the clip with shaky clumsy hands. Finally, he got the clip loaded and he cocked the gun, holding it with both hands like an inexperienced marksman. 

You looked around frantically for something to use as a weapon, anything to not feel helpless. Rocks and sticks seemed to be your best choices but you knew damn well that wouldn’t do jack shit against a gun. Arvin glanced over at you with fear in his eyes, the fact that you both found yourselves facing death yet again for the second time in two days. Tragedy seemed to loom over Arvin like a storm cloud but, looking in your wide beautiful eyes, he’d be damned if he let you become another ghost in his past. 

“I had a feeling you’d be here. Remember that night you brought me up here? That was an awful thing your daddy did.” His footsteps were terrifyingly close now and you did the only thing you could think of to help. You tossed a stone as far away as you could. According to plan, Bodecker jumped and shot at the sudden movement. “God damnit, don’t fuck with me!” 

Arvin may have had the gun but if you could make Bodecker waste his ammo, that was less chances he had of shooting you and Arvin. It was the best solution you could come up with in the heat of the moment. Bodecker sounded furious now and when you peeked over the log, you saw him hiding behind a tree. 

You threw another rock in his direction and he wasted yet another shot. “Fuck! I swear to God-” He cursed angrily, knowing he was wasting his shots on nothing. 

“Put the gun down, Sheriff. I got one pointed right at you!” Arvin yelled back and your eyes blew wide in panic. You smacked him on the arm and the question in your eyes was clear: What the hell are you thinking?

“Can’t do that son!” 

“Just set it on the ground and step away.” Arvin’s voice shook despite his attempt at sounding firm. 

“What?” Bodecker asked with a notable change in his tone. Footsteps started approaching again. 

Poor Arvin fell right into the trap. “Just set it on the ground and step away!” He repeated even louder. You smacked his arm again and held a finger to your lips. 

“So you can kill me like you did my sister and that preacher in West Virginia?” Bodecker hollered back. “You and that girl murdered my sister, didn’t you?” 

For the first time since the incident, you felt actual guilt for what you’d done. Hearing the way Bodecker’s voice cracked with grief made you realize that Sandy’s death did actually have an effect on other people, even if she wasn’t a good person. Arvin swallowed hard too, “We ain’t bad people, Sheriff. That preacher weren’t no good. He hurt my sister so bad she killed herself, Sheriff. I had no choice!”

You shook your head and waved your hands at him, desperately pleading him to stop talking. Bodecker’s footsteps were only getting closer and you knew he was getting Arvin to talk so he could locate the two of you. Arvin just had to explain himself, though, and before you could move, Bodecker was right on top of you. From your new position, awkwardly creeping up a nearby tree, using its trunk for cover, you could see Bodecker’s shotgun peek out from around a tree. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Sheriff, but your sister and her husband… they weren’t no good neither.” Arvin continued to explain yourselves to the sheriff. By then, your upper back was pressed up awkwardly against a standing tree but you were still lying down, hiding mostly against the fallen log still. Arvin stayed laying on his back, gun up against his chest. “I got a snapshot in my pocket of her huggin’ on some dead guy. And Y/N… you shoulda seen what they was doin’ to her,” Arvin’s eyes met yours and you could see a well of unshed tears as this poor boy was on the verge of breaking at the thought of watching you relive that horror. It was a brief moment that he wanted only you to see before he continued,  “What they wanted to do to us. We had no choice! Let loose that gun and I’ll show it to you!” 

Suddenly, Bodecker jumped out from behind the tree and Arvin pulled the trigger as soon as he saw him coming but not before the sheriff got a shot off right at the two of you as well. You shrieked out in pain as a few pellets from the shotgun grazed your arm, tearing holes in your jacket. They weren’t deep wounds but they tore long thin gashes across your flesh that began bleeding immediately. 

“Agh!” You yelled out, clutching your bicep that was already wet with crimson liquid. Arvin rolled over next to you, having flinched away from the bullets in the opposite direction. You wanted to ask if he was alright but he rolled back over to look up at Bodecker, confirming that he was thankfully at least alive. 

Your attention went to the sheriff as well who stood there looking dumbfounded at the red spot blossoming on his shirt. His jaw went slack and his knees buckled before he finally dropped to the ground. You and Arvin shot each other glances of disbelief. You both pressed yourselves off the ground and hopped over the log towards the sheriff. 

Bodecker was on the ground, gasping and trying to hang onto what was left of his life. The first thing you did before even looking at him long was kneel down and take his gun from his hand. Now that you were sure he couldn’t hurt you, you looked down at him sadly. Killing Sandy and Carl had been disturbingly easy because they were genuinely terrible people who were trying to murder you. They also died quickly. Bodecker lied helpless on the ground at the mercy of two young adults, gasping and gripping desperately to this world. This time, the murder made your heart feel heavy. Yes, he had been trying to murder you and Arvin but it was for his sister’s sake. There was a twisted nobility in the action that you could empathize for. 

Bodecker looked up at Arvin and then up at you. “So it was you in that picture,” he attempted to say, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

He laid his head back, too tired to continue straining himself, “In… in my pocket… Found some pictures in Carl’s camera of… of a girl crying with her shirt.. With her shirt…” Bodecker attempted to explain but his voice failed him as much as his the rest of his body was beginning to shut down. 

You gasped at the mention of the photographs. In the heat of everything, you had completely forgotten that Carl had taken a few pictures of you. You patted down the sheriff’s pocket until you found a developed picture of you with your shirt torn wide open, bra out for the world to see, and tears streaming down your face despite the defiantly angry look on your face. Sandy was topless behind you, her lips pressing against your neck and her hands gripping your breasts, pressing them up and inwards to amplify their suppleness. Her direct eye contact with the camera was chilling. 

You shuttered at the picture, shoving it in your own pocket instead of giving it back to Bodecker. You weren’t sure what you’d do with it but you couldn’t risk anyone else seeing it. 

Arvin had caught a glimpse of the picture and noticed the way it shook in your hands. He noticed the way your eyes glazed over looking at it like you couldn’t believe it was actually you. When you shoved it in your pocket, he sighed and pulled out his own photograph to show the sheriff, the one of Sandy posing nude behind a man’s corpse. 

“We had no choice.” He told Bodecker. There was such sincerity in his voice and almost an apology in his eyes for the harm that he had caused to Bodecker and his family. It was never meant to be like this for either you or him. Neither of you were supposed to have become killers. Your hands were never meant to be stained red but life or death situations called for extreme measures and it had been you or them every time. “They was gonna kill us. I swear.” 

“We didn’t wanna do it but they had a gun to our heads and tried to force us to... We didn’t have a choice. They were gonna kill us.” You reiterated, voice just as shaky as Arvin’s as you had to sit and come to terms with the events of the last twenty-four hours. 

“I’m so sorry.” You and Arvin apologized in uncoordinated unison, hanging your heads low to genuinely show how sorry you were for causing him pain and that it had all had to boil down to this. 

Bodecker’s eyes left the pair of you and stared upwards at the trees. You glanced up to see what he was looking at and saw a beautiful clearing in the branches that framed the perfectly clear late afternoon sky. It was a beautiful view to have to be your last, you thought morbidly but truthfully. 

You and Arvin sat by Bodecker’s side, listening to his ragged strained breaths until they finally stopped and you knew he was gone. It felt like the least you could do after everything, staying with him so he didn’t die alone. You hoped that maybe it counted as some shred of redemption for the sins committed over the last two days. 

When Bodecker’s body finally went limp and his eyes glazed over, you reached up and brushed your hand over his face, closing his eyes. You couldn’t stand to see the empty blue orbs stare off into nothingness and know there was nobody behind those eyes anymore. Arvin stood up and walked over to where you had been hiding, not giving Bodecker’s body much attention at all after he finally slipped away. 

With a heavy sigh, you pressed yourself to your feet and walked over to where Arvin stood, looking down at a hole full of animal bones that you hadn’t noticed earlier. You visibly cringed, wondering what in the hell you walked into, “What’s that?” 

Sadness overtook Arvin’s features as he stared at the pile of bones, “My best friend from when I was a boy. I had to come back and give him a proper burial.” His vague answer clearly had a story attached to it but you didn’t have the heart to press him further on it right now. Arvin turned his attention to the pistol in his hand, the one he had used to shoot Teagarden, Carl, and Bodecker, and saw nothing but the bloodshed it had caused. 

You wished you could know what was going on in Arvin’s brain as he twisted that Luger in his hand. His eyes were deep with remorse, grief, and heartache and you could tell that this boy had seen too many tragedies for one lifetime and somehow, they were all related to the gun he held in his hand. 

After almost a minute of silence, he placed the gun gingerly on top of the bones in the makeshift grave and piled it full of dirt until it was indistinguishable from the rest of the forest floor. The only landmarks to signify its location were the three crosses that humbly stood above it. “Why’d you do that?” You asked with gentle curiosity. 

He stood up but kept his eyes trained on where the hole once was, “My daddy always told me to wait for the right time to do anything.,” He nodded his head, as if agreeing with his own decision, “I think it’s the right time.” His answer was cryptic and, yet again, you could tell there was a story behind it that you would have to wait to discover. 

There was a cool breeze that sent goose bumps rising across your arms and you glanced around the forest to see the leaves rustle and fall to the ground. That was when the black and white clothing of Sheriff Bodecker stood out against the gold and brown foliage and reality settled back in. 

“We should probably get outta here soon, Arv.” You urged with a gentle tone, a hand coming to rest softly on Arvin’s bicep. 

Arvin’s jumped slightly, eyes darting down to where your skin gently grazed his own. The softness of your touch and the sincerity in your eyes was one that he wasn’t sure he’d experienced since his mother. Even Lenora hadn’t filled that gap that he was secretly desperate for to be filled. She was kind and gentle but had a childlike naivety that you lacked. Arvin’s mother had never looked at him the way you did either. His mother had been tender and compassionate but there was a different kind of understanding in the way that you looked at him. One look into your eyes validated all of his sins over the last few days, for better or worse. 

His opposite hand reached across his body and rested over yours, revelling silently in the way your hand fit against his. “Yeah… you’re right.” Arvin took one last look at the three crosses that had haunted his dreams for years and it was almost as if he could feel himself kneeling before them with his father. These weren’t memories he ever thought he’d want to hold onto but now that he was faced with the possibility of never coming back, a part of him felt reluctant to leave. “Rest easy now, Jack.” He let his hand fall from yours with his last good bye and while you weren’t entirely sure who Jack was, you were fairly certain it was the name of whoever those bones in that grave belonged to. 

**

“‘M sorry,” Arvin said out of the blue from the driver’s seat of your car, shaking you from the silent daze that both of you had been sitting in for the last thirty minutes. 

You tore your eyes from the dashboard where they had long since zoned out on, emotionally overwhelmed, to look over at him. “For what?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten caught up in all this.” 

You shook your head, “That ain’t true, Arvin. We both ended up in Carl and Sandy’s car yesterday and we both pulled those triggers. Bodecker was shooting at us because he couldn’t settle with the fact that his sister was a monster. It’s like you said, us or them. I probably would’ve died with Sandy and Carl if it weren’t for you being there so if anything, I should be thanking you. You saved my life.” 

Arvin looked over at you, his eyes red from holding back tears for so long but he still shed none. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. The way you had been sitting so quietly had him convinced that you hated him for dragging you into a life ruining situation. “Well I wouldn’t have made it this far without you either so thank you.” 

You nodded with a small appreciative smile but there was an exhausted sadness behind your features that Arvin shared. Silence settled back over the car aside from the faint ever present sound of the wind outside the car as you and Arvin drove on down the highway headed for Pennsylvania. Neither of you knew what your next steps were but since killing Bodecker, you’d both decided that heading back to Barren Springs was not a wise decision. The two of you needed to get as far away from this area as you could, at least until everything blew over - that was, if it ever would. If Bodecker could track Arvin, that must have meant the other police officers knew that he had killed Teagarden as well. You weren’t sure if the police knew that you and Arvin were responsible for Carl and Sandy but you could assume as much since Bodecker came after the two of you. Even if they didn’t, there were pictures of you on Carl’s camera but your body wasn’t at the crime scene. Finally, when Bodecker didn’t return, wouldn’t that just put you and Arvin at the top of the suspect list? 

So with all the uncertainty in the world, you sat in the passenger seat of your own car with a stranger who you felt like you understood more than you’d ever understood anyone, driving across state lines with no clue as to what you future held. You didn’t know where you were going, when you’d get to come back home, when you could safely see anyone you cared about again, or what was going to happen to all your life goals now. Everything that had been planned and comfortable had been stolen away by a twisted couple picking up a poor girl with a broken down car. 

You didn’t know what was waiting for you in Pennsylvania, or anywhere for that matter, but even with all the uncertainty, one thing felt beyond doubt. Maybe it was the exhaustion from going two days with no sleep but you just knew Arvin Russell was going to be in your life from this day forward. There was something you couldn’t explain between the two of you. A spark felt like an inappropriate way to put it under the circumstances of your relationship thus far but it was an understanding, an empathy, a trust, a sense of protection of one another. When you tore your eyes off the road ahead long enough to look over at the man sitting beside you, his hair parted messily down the middle and his face and shirt smudged with dirt, you could have sworn you saw your future. Whether it was a future in prison together, as partners in crime, friends, or lovers, you weren’t quite sure, but a content smile crept up on your face at the inexplicably comforting knowledge that Arvin Russell would be there with you for whatever ups and downs were to come.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Heya, so I was wondering if I could get a scenario based off of your hanahaki disease story for ej. What if somehow Leia started to fall for the reader some time after they got the disease?

Butterfly Kisses

[Leia (OC) X GN!Reader]

[Warnings: death (not really described), angst]

[AN: Check out my masterlist for the Hanahaki series that's originally EJ X F!Reader]

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, she wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

Leia watched you deteriorate when she stole Jack from you, and she smiled at the thought. She watched you grow sicker and sicker and basked in the piles of tiny forget-me-nots you left scattered around the house.

And she loved it. She loved watching the destruction that was you while Jack was still blinded by her light.

In truth, there was no reason for her to actually dislike you other than the fact you are a proxy. She was her father’s killing machine, nothing more, nothing less. It was nothing personal, just what her father desired of her. The white haired woman wasn’t supposed to be able to feel love or anything amiable, but then she met Jack. Just like that, everything changed.

He felt strongly for her, that much she could tell right off the bat. Did Jack’s ‘eyes’ always wander when he saw a pretty face? It was so easy for him to fall into her grasp and for her to wrap around him like an octopus, keeping him in her clutches.

If she had any semblance of guilt, it was smothered by her rationalizing that she was doing you a favor. What kind of girl should stay with a guy who wanders both physically and emotionally? Leia took away a man who, in a way, didn’t deserve you. If she could win over Jack with her sapphire eyes that fluttered like the wings of a butterfly, then he didn’t deserve you. Who knows what he would do in the long run? She took from you what you wouldn’t miss.

Here you are, day after day, dying. You’re coughing up forget-me-nots because you were too stupid to realize that you’re better off without him. You’re perishing in front of her and all Leia can think is that you deserve it. She hears you as you and Kate chat on the couch only to be interrupted by a series of thick, heinous coughs and the daily arguments that ensue between Hoodie and Jack. Toby is more supportive of you than ever! She thinks you know what love is, and she thinks you know it well.

It’s something she’ll never really have. She’s a weapon, nothing more, nothing less.

That’s not until one summer evening when you’re reaching the end of your rope that you sit down next to her on the porch. The crickets and cicadas are singing, and the light of the summer sun filters through the trees like golden tresses of hair. It’s gorgeous. She’s sipping on some pink lemonade, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the sweetness of the air and when you sit next to her, she pauses.

Her blue eyes look over at you, and in that moment, she doesn’t sense anything from you but stillness. No animosity or acrimony, nothing scathing, just stillness. She sees how sickly you look. You really don’t have much longer left, maybe a few days if you’re lucky, to next morning at worst. Your eyes are so tired and heavy, and the dark circles under them seem almost endless. But you still look gorgeous when the light hits you just right.

“How are you?” You ask, voice soft and scratchy due to the flowers that threaten to shoot up from your throat.

“Never better,” Leia replies before sipping at her striped straw. “And you?”

You chuckle and shake your head. “How I look,” you say.

Leia cracks a grin. “These final days been treating you well?”

You shrug before making a so-so motion with your hand. “Yes and no.” You take in a deep breath to fuel yourself for just a moment longer before glancing at Leia. “I’m tired, really tired,”

“Then why don’t you get some rest?”

You smile quietly and shake your head. “I’ve done so much resting these past few days,” a scoff escapes your throat alongside some more petals, “for as long as I’ve had this!” You exclaim. “I just wanna, I don’t know, see something.”

Leia doesn’t know where the softness comes from, but she suddenly stands up. “Okay, follow me.” She places down her glass of pink lemonade before holding out her hand to you.

You raise a brow but sense no duping from her and hesitantly take her hand. You’ve spent the better part of a year hating her, loathing her for what she’s done to you, but you realize it was Jack. Jack was the one who ultimately betrayed you, and Jack was the one whose heart left the room it used to share with yours. You still have strange feelings against her, but you know that you’re okay to be with her for what may be your final night alive.

Leia hoists you up and then brings you off the back porch, not letting you do as she leads you through the tall grass. The sound of cicadas kicks up, and in the distance, you can hear deer moving through the meadows. The sun is sinking further and further below the horizon, making the sky dazzle you in hues of pinks and purples only knitted together by shades of blue. The clouds are the size of whales and swim through the sky like airships.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a small grin.

Leia brings you into the woods, halting from pointing out little mushroom caps that come in reds, pinks and browns before addressing you. “A place I think you’d really like,” she hums. “We’re almost there. What do you think the air smells like?”

You take in a thoughtful sniff. “Sweet flowers, grass,” you begin to list off.

Leia looks over her shoulder at you and smiles again. “Let’s go see why.” The fallen child of Zalgo then pulls you on just a little further, the scent of lavender and phlox filling the air. Honey also permeates your surroundings.

You watch as the trees shift to shades of gold before the most beautiful sight of flowers overtakes your vision. It looks like there’s a staircase carved out of rock and it leads down to an alluring flower field that blankets the entire opening. Butterflies of every kind swarm the area, landing gracefully on flowers before flitting off to the next. Fireflies are beginning to rise up and light up the blanketing darkness.

“Nice, right?” Leia says as she begins to lead you down the stairs. Her grip is gentle as she helps you.

You nod, a giggle rising up from your throat as Monarchs and Swallowtails begin to perch on your head and arms. It’s like they’re greeting someone they love. “Have you always known about this place?” You inquire, one of the Painted Ladies coming to rest on your nose, kissing you with her wings.

“Sure have,” Leia replies, guiding you slowly through the field of flowers. “I like to come here and think,” she murmurs. Leia pauses when the two of you reach a slight divot in the flower field. There’s a little rock shelf she must’ve built and in it is a well sized box. Leia sits you down, then pulls out the box and opens it. “Sometimes I like to journal here,” she explains, showing you her doodles of the flowers and the butterflies.

“I didn’t know you were into such things,” you smile, still getting covered by butterflies and their kisses.

“I do a lot of things when I’m not being a jerk,” she chuckles. “Here, you can look through it.” She hands you her journal and you gingerly take it into your hands.

You begin to flip through the pages while Leia hums and looks up at the rising moon, fireflies and butterflies resting on the flowers all around you as the breeze gently wafts by.

It’s peaceful here - there’s no signs of worry, and your lungs seem to be at peace with all the sweetness in the air. The stars begin to shine overhead, and Leia thinks that maybe, just for a moment, everything will be okay.

Sometime during the silence (and Leia’s humming), you look over at her and pause from reading and looking over her entries. “Y’know,” you begin. “You make fields nice.”

Leia almost forgets you’ve got that stupid disease when you begin to violently cough, sending the field into a deathly silence except for your internal struggle.

It becomes harder and harder for you to breathe, and Leia panics. She picks you up like you weigh nothing and begins sprinting back to the house knowing you need to be with your group. The Slender Man won’t come at her call. Maybe, just maybe, if she gets you back to Masky…

They lost you that night.

Leia barreled back into the temp house, your fading form in her arms and they lost you. Slender Man wasn’t able to save you.

Maybe it’s a curse, a curse that whatever angry part of you or the universe inflicted on her for being such an awful person when she first met you.

She knows she deserves it. Yellow sunflowers unfurl in her lungs at an alarming pace, and when she’s in that field surrounded by butterflies that do not kiss her the way they kissed you, she can’t help but feel she deserves it.

But hey, she makes fields good, you said so yourself.