#THE COLORS! THE EXPRESSIONS!! THE WAY HE'S LEANING DOWN TO LOOK AT HER!!! UGH - MY HEART 💜💛

[jazz-berry]

His Kitty, Her Puppy

grumpy!Cooper Day x sunshine!reader

Fluff (can be either romantic or platonic)

It's lunch time at school and Cooper is outside with the stoners as usual. Suddenly there's a gentle tap on his shoulder and he turns around, seeing your short self. He looks at you slightly confused but he definitely isn't complaining. You don't usually come over while he's hanging out with the stoners. Today you're wearing an adorable lilac colored sweater with a white skirt. He raises an eyebrow.

"What's up? Why are you here, and looking so damn cute like that."

He asks, tilting his head slightly as he looks down at you. His eyes keep drifting over your outfit. You're adorable as always.

you giggle softly and blush. "Thank you. I was wondering if I could come over today? My parents are going out" you ask softly. Cooper's aware that you have a silly (but cute) fear of being home alone

He raises an eyebrow slightly at your question, it wasn't unusual for you to come over if your parents were going out. "Uh sure of course you can come over. You don't have to ask, you know that. Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?"

you pout. "Yes, l just wanted to make sure"

Cooper smirks at the cute pout on your face, he couldn't help but find everything you did adorable.

"I told you already, you don't have to ask. You know that I'm always happy for you to come over, dummy."

you huff. "Just for that, l'm gonna do your hair later" you say with a cheeky smile. Cooper's eyes widen in horror at the threat. No. You were not going to do his hair again! Last time you put so many tiny ponytails in his hair that he wasn't able to get them all and spent hours picking them out.

He leans down so he could look right into your eyes, glaring at you. "Don't you dare, you evil little kitty. You are not doing my hair."

"I'm not evil" you huff and hug Cooper, looking up at him with big innocent pleading eyes

Damn, those eyes were too much. They made Cooper melt every single time you looked at him like that. He tried to keep a scowl on his face, but it was no use. Every time you did the big eye thing, he was doomed.

He grumbles a little but relents, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back. He could never stay mad at you.

"Fine, you're not evil. But you're still not doing my hair. No way. You're gonna make me look dumb again."

"You never look dumb! It's adorable" you say innocently with a happy smile, making Cooper grumble again

He huffs, but secretly he loves it when you call him adorable. He usually prefers to be called dark and edgy, but from you, being called adorable was actually kind of nice. Even if you were talking about pigtails.

"I am NOT adorable. That's for you."

He quickly retorts while squeezing you gently in the hug.

"For me?" you ask, baffled and amused

Cooper rolls his eyes, knowing that you'd question him like that. He gently poked your head, ruffling your hair. "Yes. You, the little kitty that likes to sit on my lap and bite my wrist. You're the adorable one. I am dark and edgy."

you blush again and whine, feeling flustered. You hide your face in your best friend's chest

Cooper smirks. He knew you were so easy to fluster, it was fun to see how easily he could make you a blushing mess. He reaches down and begins to gently stroke your hair as you whine into his chest.

"See, you're adorable. You're a cute little flustered kitty." He whispers, smiling as he felt you blushing against him.

"Well you're a pretty puppy" you mumble, making Cooper huff

His face scrunches up in a grumpy expression. He hated that. He was supposed to be dark, not an adorable puppy!

"Ugh, stop calling me that!" He protests and begins to pinch your cheek.

you whine playfully from the pinch and lift your head up from Cooper's chest. Now you both look grumpy (but adorable).

Cooper continues pinching your cheek, feeling amused by your cute grumpy whine.

"That's what you get for calling me a puppy, you little demon kitty."

"Pretty puppy" you retort with a grin

He growls, his expression hardening as you called him a pretty puppy again. He pinches your cheek a little harder, trying to get you to stop. "I'm not a puppy."

"Grrrr" you growl back softly, sounding adorable

Cooper couldn't help but laugh a little at you trying to sound tough. You sounded so cute, like a little baby kitty trying to roar. Still, he pouted and continued to pinch your cheek.

"Don't 'grrrr' at me. You sound adorable."

"No I'm scary, grrrr" you try to intimidate your best friend, but the results are ineffective as you're shorter than him and literally dressed like a pastel doll right now.

He smirks and squeezes your cheek, unable to hold back teasing remarks. "You're so scary. The scariest little baby kitty"

"Grrr" you growl again and lightly bite down on Cooper's hand, making him let go of your cheek. It was such a cute nibble, you looked adorable when you pretended to be scary.

"Ouch, scary kitty."

He mocks, poking your forehead with a smirk on his face.

you huff and continue gently chomping on Cooper's hand. nom nom nom~

Cooper rolled his eyes as he let you continue to gnaw on his hand. It wasn't actually painful, you were such a gentle nibbler. He just let you keep doing the cute little bitey thing.

"You're really a little baby kitten, aren't you? Nibbling on everything that you can get your teeth on."

you blush and let go of Cooper's hand shyly. There are small dull teeth marks. “Hmph. Well I'll see you after school then Cooper” you say softly.

He chuckles and pokes your forehead again when you let go of his hand. "Yeah, don't forget, you're not allowed to be home alone you little scaredy cat."

you huff. “I'm gonna do your hair” you then turn around and skip away with a soft giggle before Cooper can protest

He let out a heavy sigh, he knew that he was doomed now. You were going to do his hair like you always did when you were at his house. You loved creating little ponytails into his hair and bedazzling him.

He mutters under his breath, knowing that you're too far away to hear him.

"Damn it, she's gonna make me look stupid again..."

When school ends, you drag Cooper into his house, while he grumbles about what you plan to do. "Hi Mrs. Day!" you say sweetly to his mom, Abby, as you enter the house and start going upstairs, still dragging Cooper by his hand

Cooper looks at you in frustration, dreading what you were going to do to his hair. He grumbles, letting you drag him into his house and up the stairs. He knew he was powerless to stop you, once you got an idea in your head, that was it. He mutters under his breath as he let you drag him up the stairs, knowing he had no other choice.

His mom, Abby, looks up in surprise as you greeted her excitedly. She chuckles at the sight of you dragging her son behind you.

"Hello dear. Taking him prisoner again, huh?"

"I'm just trying to make him look pretty" you pout. Abby adores you. You're such a sweet girl, and a good influence for her son

"Of course, you're always trying to help this moody boy look nice, aren't you, dear? Hopefully he doesn't give you too much trouble."

Cooper now glares, scowling from a few steps behind you as you continued to drag him to his room.

Once the two of you have reached his room, you immediately start pulling him to his bed, sitting down in his lap and facing him so he can't escape. He scowls as you place yourself in his lap, making him unable to get up and run away from you.

"Damn it, why is my life like this? Forced to sit here and let a little baby kitty decorate my hair and make me look stupid."

you huff. "Stop saying that, you never look stupid, only pretty" your big eyes gaze at Cooper adoringly

Cooper can't help but melt a little as you look at him with your cute adoring eyes. Damn, you knew how to look cute. He grumbles under his breath, not wanting to admit that you were right. But there was no way he could resist your big eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Maybe I don't look stupid. But I sure as hell don't look dark and edgy like I'm supposed to. You make me look adorable, not ominous and brooding."

"You'll be fine, my pretty emo boy" you say sweetly

Cooper huffs gently. He's supposed to be tough, cool, and dark. How could he be those things when you call him pretty and sit so innocently in his lap?

"You're really trying to kill my whole aesthetic, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Done!" you say cheerfully, and Cooper gets up from his bed to look in a mirror. Just like he expected, he looks ridiculous.

He sighs with a mixture of amusement and resignation. He's matching with you, exhibiting a pink mud mask and pigtails, along with a fluffy headband with a bow on top. He shakes his head and turns to look at you with a resigned expression.

"I look absolutely ridiculous right now. I hope you're satisfied"

"You're just a pretty puppy" you say innocently. He rolls his eyes in faux irritation and grumbles. He's used to you calling him that, it had become something like an affectionate nickname between the two of you. But he still can't stop himself from acting annoyed.

"I'm a dark and brooding emo, not a cute and fluffy puppy, damn it."

"Yes you are, and I'm a kitty," you declare confidently

Cooper rolls his eyes once again at your declaration, but he can't help the amused smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I know you're a kitty. A cute and annoying one."

you pout. "Pretty puppy" you retort

Cooper chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a pretty puppy, and you're a cute kitty. We've established that. Anything else?"

you smile happily and hold out your arms while Cooper stands near the bed. "Cuddle" you demand.

He sighs and shakes his head, pretending to be reluctant. "You're such a clingy kitty, you know that?"

"Mhm, now gimme" you huff.

Cooper chuckles softly, enjoying the familiar and playful banter between the two of you. He feigns reluctance for another moment before surrendering to your demand.

"Fine, you little hellcat. Cuddle time it is."

you gasp, looking at Cooper with a fake offended look. "What do you mean, hellcat?"

Cooper smirks at your pretend offended expression, enjoying your adorable pout. He can't help but tease you further. "Oh, you know exactly what I mean. You're a cute and sweet kitty, but you're also a little hellcat. You're bossy and demanding, especially when you want cuddles. Like right now."

you just narrow your eyes, waiting for Cooper to sit his ass down so you can latch on to him. He chuckles, finding your stubbornness endlessly endearing. He sits down on the bed, and before he could even settle into a comfortable position, you've latched onto him like a clingy little kitten.

"You really are a little kitten, aren't you? Acting like you're marking your territory or something."

"Mine" you grumble in response.

Cooper chuckles again but can't help the tender smile that appears on his face.

"Well, looks like I'm all yours then. I'm just your fluffy puppy who exists solely to provide you with cuddles and affection."

Suddenly, Cooper's door opens and his older sister, Natalie, appears. She smirks at the scene while Cooper looks mortified. The two of you are cuddling while wearing matching plush headbands and having pink mud masks on. Nirvana's blasting in the background.

The emo boy could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks in embarrassment, knowing that the scene in front of her must look absolutely ridiculous. However, you seem unfazed. "Hi Nat!" you say sweetly. God, Cooper's family adored you.

Cooper groans silently, but he knew there was no way out of this.

Natalie chuckles and raises an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you. She had always found it amusing that her moody emo little brother was best friends with the ultimate fluffball.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Is my little brother playing beauty salon with his friend again?" She teases, leaning against the doorframe with a playful grin. She was used to seeing the two of you in various silly situations, but this particular one was especially ridiculous.

"I made him pretty" you say cheerfully, making Cooper grumble. Both him and Natalie know damn well that he would never dare to dampen your joy, no matter how embarrassing it is for him. You're just the epitome of innocence and sweetness, and both Cooper and Natalie know that he would go along with almost anything you wanted just to keep you happy.

"Yeah, I can see that. You definitely made him sparkle" She comments, letting out another amused chuckle. The sight of her grumpy little brother covered in glitter in contrast to your innocent and cheerful demeanor was just too entertaining.

Cooper gives his sister a death stare but remains quiet.

Natalie simply smirked at Cooper's death glare, knowing full well that he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. He didn't want to ruin your cheerful mood with his usual grouchiness. She was amused by the sight of you being completely oblivious to the tension, happily cuddling up to Cooper while he silently seethed.

Cooper's eyes then widen in horror as Natalie pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the two of you. You just hide your face in Cooper's chest, feeling shy as usual

"Oh, this is going right in the family group chat. Mom and Dad are going to love this one"

@lemoniiiiiii @n0tonlin3 @evanpeterswifeyyy @evvyyypeters-fics @marchsfreakshow @tiffysdeath @whosbloom @icedheartss @vizjpmdose @tatelangdonsweater @slut4evanpeters @majestyjade @vfromvandalista @lacucarachapisser @strawb3rrystar @violetsghosts @acrosstheunivcrse @colinzabelswife @mooniehoneyrey @oceanblvd111 @dearlizzies @urmomsg1rlfreind @darlingmarch @miss-skinnybones @giuliiitzz00 @juliamaximoff @divinerulersslut @americanwh0rerstory @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @mrs-peters @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @fear-is-truth @m-l-w-b

[wishuroses]

.⠀ ݁ ⸜⸜ 𓂃 𓇼 make a wish, spider soccoro.

✶ pairings: spider x sully!reader

✶ warnings: fluff, lovesick fools, confessions, reader is a cutiepie and spider agrees wholeheartedly, you fell first he fell harder type deal, uppercase intended!

✶ word count: 854

✶ na’vi glossary: tawtute – human.

✶ a/n: i remember seeing a post asking for more spider fics, so i thought why not feed all my spider lovers out there? i’ve also been breathing down jack champions neck a lot recently (he is so fine) happy reading! :-)

“C’mon Spi, keep up!”

“Ugh. I’m trying, your legs are too long!”

The forest glowed beautifully beneath your feet with every step you took, pointed ears fluttering from the echoed sounds of chittering flora and fauna. You and Spider had fallen into the steady, yet risky rhythm of sneaking out past eclipse; disregarding the fact that your mother would skin him and then knot your tail right after if she ever caught both of you out, alone for that matter. Yet you–stubborn and hardheaded– never listened to what your mother had to say, easily blocking out her irritated hisses of frustration when you openly expressed your interest in the little tawtute.

Little did you know, that little tawtute also took interest in you. Much more than you did him, for that matter.

You giggled at his exasperated comment, looking over your shoulder and flicking your eyes downward to find that he is, indeed, struggling to catch up with you. Spider was, for a fact, small compared to your lithe 7ft frame, but if you plopped him next to the rest of the sky people, he beats at least a handful of them in the height department.

“Want me to carry you?” You asked genuinely, coming to a complete halt as you watched him trail beside you carefully. Spider scoffed at your silly question, not missing the way his heart rattled in his chest at the fact that you cared for him, looking up at you with mirth and adoration shining in his eyes. “No need for that, not yet at least. We’re here anyway.”

At his words, you craned your neck to look around, beads thudding together in a chorus at the sudden movement, a smile blooming on your face as quick as it came. The familiar stream of crystal clear water and shroud of colorful flora confirming that you both were here. Your secret spot.

“Look Spider, look!” You stretched your arm and pointed a strong finger towards the darkened sky, tracing over the rushing streak of light that ran across the horizon. “Make a wish!”

He turned his full attention to you with a furrowed brow, tilting his head. “Make a what?” Like a moth to a flame, he leaned into you, happily taking in your presence.

“A wish! It’s just.. something you really want that you don’t already have. Something you long for. Dad said it was a tawtute tradition! Make one, quickly!” Spider hummed in understanding, watching you with a lovesick expression etched on his face. His eyes traced over your wide eyes filled with astonishment, twinkling stars reflecting off adored pools of honey.

“Well..” Spider paused and licked his chapped lips, “What if it’s.. someone I long for?” His palpating heart only increased violently when you locked eyes with him, the pretty smile on your face only widening further, gasping softly at his bashful confession.

You shuffled closer to the boy, warm thighs pressed against each other. “Spider,” You cooed, proud of him for finding a person to give his heart to, “You like someone? Who, who!” You wrapped your four-fingered hand around his forearm, tugging at it with excitement. “You must tell me!” He flushed strawberry pink, dipping his chin down to shy away from the intensity of your gaze–making a pout form on your face.

“C’mon, I won’t tell! Swear it!”

Spider then looked at you with a playful grin, heart soaring like a multitude of shooting stars when you quickly reciprocated his grin. He exhaled, and with a random surge of confidence, he intertwined his hand with yours, the obvious difference in size making it quite tricky–but he made it work.

You wonder how much he needed to hype himself up to go through with going so far as to hold your hand–he’s never been this bold, up until now, at least.

You looked at your entangled hands with raised eyebrows, wide, curious eyes flickering back to stare into his softened brown ones. Spider nodded briskly, answering your wordless question with a nervous look on his face. In your eyes, he looked slightly constipated–like he was worried about what your reaction would be– and if you two weren’t tangled up in each other, you would’ve laughed at him.

But realistically, in your eyes, he was the prettiest he could ever be. You smiled, eyes forming crescent moons.

As if you two hadn’t already popped your personal space bubbles, you scooted even closer, leaning your forehead over the sleek glass of his exopack. Spider never wanted to kiss you more than he did now–to press his lips against your face, trailing down to your neck, and onto the expanse of your striped tummy, all while thumbing gentle circles into the jut of your hips. He found you so beautiful, no words could ever suffice.

“My wish..” Spider started breathlessly after a long beat of silence. Your ears flicked forward to selfishly take in his next words, watching as his pupils dilate the more he took in your appearance, eyes already so brown that if you didn’t have such good eyesight–you would’ve missed it.

“My wish is you.”

[lemonyko0]

in-fidelity - jjk

"you wouldn't mind me checking what you're hiding under there, right chicky?"

» genre: fluff, angst, established relationship <3

» description: you do your best to hide his gifts but he's suspicious, to say the least.

» wc: 1.5k

in-fidelity - jjk

valentine's day, anniversaries, holidays, date nights, all of which you feel the compulsion. the compulsion to express your love through physical things because words just aren't enough, and you can only hold him for so long.

“i know you love me, you don't have to keep getting me things.” he'd told you barely two months into your relationship. and you thought you were keeping it contained. “i was just learning how to make bracelets for fun and only had these colors, so now we have matching ones!”

you leaned over him and rubbed your arm against his, showing the matching purple and blue bracelets you'd made earlier that day. “it's not like i spent money on it, i made it.” you tried to come off optimistic but it sounded more like a pout.

jungkook was kind enough to place several kisses, thanking you, and leaving the topic to be. over the next few months he’d come to terms with your love language, and eventually admit to enjoying it. “i get what girls are talking about, it's nice to be spoiled.”

but after so many months together and so many gifts, you begin to feel a little burnt out. so here you are now, using your last feeble attempt at finding something that's just “jungkook” before your anniversary tomorrow.

“so you still don't know what exactly we’re looking for?”

you shook your head, scanning the shops and boutiques at the mall, “nope, i'll know when i see it.”

eumi sighed, “you know i love shopping but you gotta give me more than that. clothes? jewelry? decorations? music?”

you shrugged, “maybe. i already ordered some clothes he’d been eyeing.”

eumi let out an exaggerated “ugh” noise and followed you mindlessly into store after store, finally stopping you by exhaustedly tugging on your sleeve to whine about how hungry she is. you sigh, growing worried by the minute that you'll walk out of here empty handed. “fine, the pretzel shop is that way.”

“yes! thank god!” she speeds towards the food mall but before your senses are engulfed in the smells of meats and sweets it picks up an aroma that stopped you in your tracks.

eumi whines and pulls on your arm, “god y/n please, not another store.”

“do you smell that?”

eumi stops, her eyes pleading, “i can't smell anything over my stomach rumbling.”

you roll your eyes and attempt to track down the scent. there weren't any candle or perfume stores around you, certainly not this close to a food court. you take a few steps backwards and notice the same man you passed only moments ago. he was dressed business casual, and the aroma was certainly coming from him.

“excuse me, sir.” he raised his head from his phone. “sorry to interrupt, but may i ask what cologne you're wearing?”

he raises his wrist to smell, “you mean this?” and extends it to you.

“yes! that's the smell, do you know what it's called?”

he nods, “yeah, it was a tester of some new perfume at the men's department upstairs, something like oak and lavender.”

“perfect, thank you!” you run back to eumi who watches you with bewilderment, “i've got it!”

“yeah yeah let's go.”

if there was one niche thing you and jungkook bonded over, it was your love of specific scents. he was sensitive to the perfumes and lotions you wore, and made sure you knew which he liked and which he wished he could throw out, because they were just “that bad”.

there is one, however, that has him chasing after you after every shower: lavender.

“gosh this really is a good one, it definitely smells like a man but like, softly.” eumi pronounces, taking the small bottle out of its bag and examining it. “i don't see why they make perfume so confusing nowadays, how do you spray this thing?”

“eumi stop it, give it here.” you reach out for the vase and are immediately hit with the spritz, sending you into a temporary coughing frenzy.

“oh god y/n, so sorry!”

you swat at the air around you, trying to stop the coughing as eumi holds back her laughs. “whatever, give it here and shoo.” you laugh it off with her, bidding her goodbye and running back to your bedroom to hide his gifts. he said he’d be at your place at 5:30, and it's 5:33, so you're in a bit of a panic as you quickly change your clothes and shove his new clothes as well as the perfume you'd bought underneath your bed quickly as he walks in.

“y/n?”

“here! coming!” you run down your stairs and watch the smile grow on his face as he opens his arms, no words needed, like that was where you were simply meant to be. and he holds you like that, rocking you softly before stopping, digging his face into your neck and pulling away with furrowed brows.

you watch him carefully but he says nothing, “you alright?”

he looks passed you and nods, “yeah, fine.” you watch him scrunch his nose and make a sour face, almost like he was upset, which is quite the contrast from the jungkook that came through your door several seconds ago.

he steps back from you and heads towards your bedroom, “wait, koo.” you smile, tugging on his hand, “i wanted to watch a movie in here.”

he frowns, “let's watch it in your room.”

you pout, “but the new tv is in here-”

“i'll be in your room.”

you sigh, calling out his name as you follow him. “jungkook? you're being weird. do you want to do something else? do you wanna talk about it?”

he ignores your inquiries and pushes past your door, scanning your room as if he hadn't found it a second home, like you'd rearranged without asking him first.

you scan the room too, eyes immediately flying to your haphazard shoving of his clothes under your bed and you slyly move to that side to stand in front of it, “we can watch a movie in here i guess, if it really means that much to you.”

his eyes stare at you suspiciously. “why are you standing there.”

“why am i standing… by my bed?”

he scoffs, making his way towards you, “yeah, you're the one acting weird. what did you just try to kick under your bed?”

you feel your face heat up and you're sure he can read the fleeting panic in your eyes. you're a terrible liar, especially to him, you're doomed.

“what are you on about? there's nothing under my bed besides some dirty clothes i forgot to pick up before you got here.”

he shakes his head and laughs, pushing past you, “yeah, okay. mind if i look?”

you scoff, “what, you don't trust me?” he stands back up, looking at you differently. “i'm not like that jungkook,” you cross your arms, “i don't know what you're thinking, but its probably not true.”

he chuckles, “probably? not true?” he takes a step closer, “so you wouldn't mind me checking what you're hiding there chicky?”

chicky. he calls you. out of habit or as a way to say im not mad, you're not sure. it's a favorite nickname of his, naming you chicky/chicken because of how much you love chicken and how often you have it. he also claims you remind him of a chicken, but you begged him not to explain that part.

“why are you acting like this?”

“it's gonna sound stupid.”

“try me.”

he ticks his head, “you smell like another guy.”

your eyes widen, no shit, still? you hold your clothes up to your face but you don't smell any remnants of the perfume. “i don't smell anything jungkook.”

he laughs, “of course you don't.” he shakes his head, “it's whatever, i told you it was stupid.”

he falls onto your bed dramatically, you can tell he's still bothered and leering. you sigh, chasing after him and snuggling up to him, “god, you're like a bloodhound or something.”

“a bloodhound?”

“yeah, whatever dog has an insanely good nose.”

“what do you mean?” he says more like a statement than a question.

you look at him apologetically, “i can’t just gaslight you,” you pout, “you ruined your own surprise.” you slip out of his embrace and grab the bottle out from underneath your bed and hand it to him, “it's this.”

he takes it to his nose and nods, “that's is it! is this for me?” he grins.

“yes, it was supposed to be an anniversary gift, but y'know.”

“ah.” he throws his head back in a long, exaggerated sigh of relief, “do you know how scared i was?”

you smile, “it's not my fault, eumi sprayed it on me! i changed clothes and everything and you still smelled it.”

he shrugs, “it's my top notch instincts, i can smell other men from a mile away.” he tips his head back, theatrically sniffing the air.

“yeah ok, fido.” you reach out and pet his hair and he smiles at you, not looking away as his eyes melt into yours.

“happy early anniversary, koo.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

hello hi it's been a while, but i've got things on the way!! new jjk dilf fic(s) in the works ;) so look forward to that! as always, wishing you all a gorgeous day <3 - ara

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taglist: @marvelahsobx @laylasbunbunny @notbotheredtho @fragmentof-indifference @jwnghyuns @isab3lita @shescharlie @kooookie @jeonzll @nickyisityou @instabull @xjiminsthighsx @iceykoo @ash07128

[fableandfandoms]

A Magical Evenin

The grand hall of Enchancia glowed softly with the colors of twilight. Cedric stood on the balcony, a scroll tucked under his arm, lost in thought. It had been a long day filled with potion-making and spell crafting, yet his mind kept wandering to one person: Vivian. He had watched her transform over the past year. No longer the shy girl he remembered, she now radiated confidence and warmth. Her passion for music filled the castle, and her kindness made even the darkest days feel a little brighter. Cedric couldn’t help but admire her, a feeling that had grown deeper with time.

“Cedric?”

He turned, and there she was, standing at the entrance to the balcony. Dressed in a flowing lavender gown that shimmered in the fading light, her mandolin slung over her back, she looked breathtaking.

“Vivian,” he said, a smile breaking across his face. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was practicing for the performance tomorrow night,” she explained, stepping closer. “I wanted some fresh air and thought I might find you.”

He glanced down at the scroll he held, then back at her. “Well, I could use a break from all this. Your company always has a way of making me forget my work.”

Vivian laughed softly, leaning against the railing. “I didn’t mean to be a distraction.”

“Oh, it’s a welcome distraction,” he said, his teasing tone laced with sincerity. He hesitated before continuing. “You’ve changed. You’re... different.”

She tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. “Different how?”

Cedric took a breath, searching for the right words. “You’re stronger now. You command the room with your music and your presence. It’s... mesmerizing.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, a shy smile playing on her lips. “Thank you. I guess I have you to thank for that. You’ve always encouraged me.”

“Have I?” he replied, genuinely surprised.

Vivian nodded. “Even when you didn’t realize it. Your belief in me has made all the difference.”

A comfortable silence enveloped them, the warmth of the evening air wrapping around them like a soft blanket. Cedric felt his heart race as he realized just how much she meant to him.

“Vivian...” he began, his voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much I value our friendship. But lately, I’ve realized it’s more than that.”

Her eyes widened, curiosity mixing with surprise. “More?”

Cedric exhaled slowly, gathering his thoughts. “Yes. I’ve been so focused on magic and power for so long, but when I’m with you, I feel like I’ve found something real, something... important.”

Vivian’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across her face. “Cedric, I’ve felt the same way. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

He took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... stay by my side. That’s all I could ever ask.”

As she stepped closer, leaning her head against his shoulder, Cedric felt a profound sense of peace. All the ambition and longing for power seemed insignificant compared to the moment they shared. For a long while, they stood there in silence, gazing up at the stars slowly appearing in the night sky.

🪄🎵

Later, after Vivian returned to her quarters, Cedric found himself back in his workshop, the scroll forgotten on his desk. He couldn’t concentrate on anything but the memory of her smile, the warmth of her hand in his. Wormwood perched nearby, squawked impatiently. “You’ve been daydreaming, Cedric. What’s gotten into you?” Cedric blinked and smirked, feeling lighter than he had in ages. “Oh, nothing, Wormy. Just... thinking.”

Wormwood cocked his head. “Thinking about what?”

Cedric picked up his wand and twirled it absentmindedly. “About how sometimes the most magical thing in the world isn’t a spell or a potion... but a person.”

Wormwood squawked in disbelief. “Ugh, you’re hopeless.”

Cedric chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe so, but for the first time, I don’t mind being hopeless.”

With that, he set his wand down, a soft smile on his face as he thought of Vivian—the one who had brought true magic into his life.

🪄🎵

The End.

[captainderyn]

The way you said “I love you”: 25. Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave

*stares in this being in my inbox since September 2019* I'm so sorry

Instead of this rotting in my drafts, I'm pulling another "that's not really what this prompt is" and wedging it into my needs for a little fic. So this will stop haunting me. Ugh.

Wulfwryn/Raenor (general spoilers for Vol 2 of the Epic questline I believe)

(Reading My World Is You will provide super helpful context)

--

Wulfwryn had dallied beneath the golden boughs of Lothlorien for far too long.

It was selfish, self-serving; she should have stayed in the deep and dark halls of Moria after handling matters in Zurr-thurkh. Her business was with Brogur, and with finding the lost dwarves who had been hustled away while Mazog toyed with and tortured Raenor.

It didn't matter that Brogur and Corunothiel both had directed her back to the sunlight, perhaps seeing that she was fighting to hang onto the single thread holding her together, directed her back towards Raenor. Every moment she spent with him as he healed, every morning she woke up pressed against the warmth of his body, guilt gnawed at her.

It was still too soon as she tightened her horse's girth and tied her saddle packs behind the cantle. Her hands were steady as she made sure both her sword and shield, repaired and shining from the forges of Caras Galadhon, were securely fastened to her saddle, but her mind was anything but steady.

"Wulfwryn," Her heart faltered at the soft, ragged plea in Raenor's voice.

His beautiful voice, still not fully healed from the foul concoctions Mazog had forced down his throat in an attempt to turn him into one of the brutal creatures of darkness that lurked in Moria's deepest pits.

She shuddered as she fought off the image of him in Azanarkâr, bloody and broken, burning with a fever from the poisons. She'd hardly slept a sound night since she'd returned to him healing here in Lothlorien, waking every few hours to check that he was still there with her.

Yet here she was, planning to leave all over again.

"Wulfwryn," Raenor repeated and she turned to face him, schooling all thoughts of him in those dark caverns from her mind and expression. His eyes searched hers, still finding what she tried to hide, "Please don't go."

"I have to." She left her horse where it was tied, slipping close to Raenor. He shook beneath her gentle touch as she slid her hands up his arms, settling one on either side of his jaw. His hair, shorn to his shoulders after being hacked at with orcish steel, slid through her fingers as she brushed it back, "I cannot leave the dwarves to Gorothúl's plans."

Raenor grasped her wrists, the bandages still covering his hands and arms rough against her skin. He leaned his cheek into her hand, pale eyes pleading, "Please do not go back into those evil halls."

For Moria called her back. Always the towering stone halls of Moria.

"The path to Gorothúl is there."

They both already knew this, she'd included Raenor in all of these plans at his insistence, even as he healed, even as each mention of Moria bled the color from his face.

"Then take me with you." Raenor's grip tightened on Wulfwryn's wrists as she look aside, agony ripping through her chest at the break in his voice, "Do not fight those horrors without me by your side."

Though she didn't trust the burning in her eyes to not overflow as the words she had to say built in her throat, she forced herself to look back at him anyway. To face the genuine fear written stark across Raenor's face.

"My love, you must stay here to heal." She brushed her thumb across his cheekbone, swiping away the tears that were falling. They'd never been separated, not like this. Never when one could go where the other could not follow. "The healers here at Caras Galadhon are the ones who can restore full use of your hands to you, who can make sure what happened there will not haunt you so."

Squeezing his eyes closed, Raenor took in a sharp breath through his nose, "I don't want to lose you down there."

His voice was so hoarse she almost couldn't make out the words, even as her soul shattered at the desperation, the pain flowing freely from him.

Careful not to hit spots that were still tender she closed the distance between them, pulling him close and burying her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder. He wrapped her tight in his arms, whole body shuddering.

"You will not lose me." She promised, "You will not. I will return for you, I will always return to you."

A reckless promise to make, but every passing day made it more and more obvious that these were reckless times. Unknown times.

In a perfect world she would not be pulling herself from him. If she were a more selfish person, perhaps she'd turn her back on the dwarves in Moria, proclaim that it was no longer her battle to fight, that she had greater wars to wage.

But just as she'd forsaken Amdir for the grand idea that she must find her rightful king, Wulfwryn forsook her peace with Raenor for the grand quest to find Gorothúl and his stolen captives.

[secretshinigami]

Mama Misora

Author: @realtruesuccessor

For: @dillyfirestarter

Characters: Naomi Misora, Original Child Character, Original Villain Character, Kira (mentioned)

Rating/Warnings: Teen and Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

Prompt: Naomi, alive and well several years after the show, has to pick up her gun once more and strap her baby to her back to go fight crime.

Author’s notes: Sorry for the wait! This was such a fun prompt to write, and I hope you enjoy reading the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!

When Naomi Misora gets the call, her first instinct is to say no - and so, that’s exactly what she does. “No,” she tells the FBI assistant director on the other end of the line. “I’m not a field agent anymore.”

The man protests loudly, but Naomi tunes him out. She glances down at her young daughter, Kiko, who is eating mushy sweet cereal out of a brightly-colored plastic bowl. Naomi smiles softly and runs her hand over Kiko’s soft black hair. As Kiko eats messily, the man’s harsh tone becomes background noise through the speakers of the phone.

Just as Naomi is about to end the call, the man says, “We’ve already sent a car to bring you to the train station.”

Naomi sighs and feels her eyebrows draw together into a scowl. “I’ve already told you, I can’t do this,” she snaps. Her patience is wearing thin. “I’m a single mother to a three-year-old girl, and I have no family to support me here.”

“Bring her along! I don’t care!”

The line clicks, and silence follows.

Frustrated and pressured, Naomi goes to find Kiko’s baby carrier before the car shows up at their small home.

The car ride to the train station is quick and smooth, but the train ride into the city is long and tedious. Naomi spends most of her time staring out the window, watching the trees. Kiko sleeps beside her, leaning against her. For most of the trip, the ride is quiet and peaceful, save for the soft clacking of the train in motion. 

Towards the end of the line, as they approach the big station in the heart of the bustling city, a single young man boards the train. He’s blond-haired and blue-eyed, wearing an oversized sweatshirt with bold words printed across the chest. Naomi recognizes the expression as a pro-Kira slogan. She reaches out and wraps a protective arm around Kiko as the young man walks by their seat.

“Ugh, there are too many people on this train,” he mutters to himself as he walks down the aisle. 

Naomi hears him sit down a few rows back from where she sits with Kiko.

A few minutes later, Naomi stands up and straps Kiko to her back. She approaches the door to the train as it slows to a stop. Behind her, she hears the other passengers begin to stand up and prepare to exit the train as well.

“Outta my way!” A now-familiar voice yells through the crowd of passengers. “Move!”

Naomi turns around and looks for the source of the commotion. Sure enough, the Kira supporter from earlier is pushing past the other passengers in an attempt to get to the front of the crowd. He shoves a small, dark-haired woman out of his way, and she bumps into someone else in turn.

“Hey!” The woman yells, glaring daggers at the Kira supporter. “Watch yourself!”

The young man turns back to look at her, and from this angle, Naomi can’t see his face. “What was that? Was that a threat, you–” His tone is angry; there’s a personal viciousness in the way he speaks to the smaller woman.

Kiko’s whimpers draw Naomi’s attention away from the encounter. Her daughter’s tiny hands reach up and grip the sleeve of Naomi’s black sweater. “Mama, they loud,” Kiko complains.

“Excuse me, can you please be quiet? Your noise is bothering my daughter,” Naomi speaks sharply. Her gaze rests firmly on the young man.

He turns to look at her, anger flashing in his blue eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but hesitates once he notices Kiko sitting in her carrier, staring at him with wide dark eyes. An awkward silence stretches between them.

“Thank you,” Naomi says gently, just as the train doors slide open.

The man’s eyes return to Naomi, and he scowls fiercely at her. “Whatever, lady,” he grumbles, pushing past her. He steps out onto the platform and disappears into the dense crowd of people.

~

The assistant director glances at Kiko, who stares back at him with innocent dark eyes. He frowns at the toddler. “You brought her here?” He asks, although he can clearly see the child in front of him.

Naomi scowls at him. “That’s what you told me to do.”

Their conversation quickly turns to the case at hand, although Naomi doesn’t miss the way her superior keeps glaring at her child.

“We’re looking for a domestic terrorist,” the man explains, sliding a pile of photos and documents across his desk. “We’ve been monitoring his social media movements, and we gathered that he’s planning an attack on Public Square tomorrow night.”

Naomi takes the documents and begins to flip through them. Her careful eyes scan for any glaring clue or hint that the other agents might have missed. She stops flipping when she notices a manifesto, littered with obvious misspellings, that had been posted to the terrorist’s social media.

“What do you know about his motives so far?” Naomi asks as she reads the manifesto silently to herself. From Naomi’s lap, Kiko glances at the paper, and her tiny face scrunches together in a confused expression.

The assistant director clears his throat. “Well, based on his social media activity, we’ve gathered that he’s probably an extreme evangelist–”

“You’re wrong,” Naomi says, interrupting the man.

“Huh?”

“He’s not an evangelist. There’s no mention of the Christian God in this manifesto, only vague references to a savior figure. Also, there’s a particular focus on crime and justice throughout the post, which suggests something else entirely.”

The man seems flustered for a moment. His eyes are wide, and he blinks a few times before he gathers himself. “What does that suggest?”

Naomi looks at the man in the way an adult might look at a particularly foolish child. “You’re looking for a Kira supporter,” Naomi explains, slow and tense.

“Are you sure?”

Before Naomi can say anything, Kiko speaks up. “Mama, those words are wrong!” She exclaims, fidgeting anxiously on Naomi’s lap. She points a single, pudgy finger at the paper. “Bad words!”

Naomi smiles fondly at her daughter. “She’s right,” Naomi says, “Each sentence has one misspelled word, and when you combine the first letters of each misspelled word, you get another message. K-I-R-A-W-I-L-L-R-I-S-E. Kira will rise.”

As soon as Naomi and Kiko solve the message, the field office starts to boom and pulse with heightened activity. Agents rush in and out of various rooms and offices, making preparations to apprehend the domestic terrorist. The “rise” part of the message implies that the attack will come from the sky, or somewhere up high, so the agents prepare to storm the skyscraper closest to Public Square.

The next day, Naomi finds herself standing with a group of agents in the Prometheus Building. Kiko is strapped to her back, and her firearm is strapped to her hip. Bright sunlight shines through the large glass windows of the building, and Naomi peeks outside to catch a glimpse of Public Square; the streets are bustling with people.

“So high up!” Kiko exclaims in wonder. “They look like ants!”

Naomi has to agree; they are very high above the crowd of people moving around below them. The people resemble tiny bugs, small dark dots dancing through the streets of the city. Something shifts in the pit of her stomach. A chill runs up her spine, despite the warmth of Kiko’s tiny body against her back.

“Kiko,” Naomi begins, her voice strained, “When someone rises up, where do they start?”

Kiko fidgets a bit before she responds. “Um, the ground?” She says, her tiny voice soft and uncertain.

Naomi rushes away from the window, and finds the leader of the operation. He’s a tall man with short dark hair, and Naomi gets the distinct impression that he’s ex-military. “Agent Bradley, we need to head down to the basement,” she says, stepping into his field of view. “We were wrong. The target isn’t at the top of the building, he’s under it.”

Bradley looks at Naomi with distaste. His eyes flick over her shoulder, and Naomi is suddenly filled with the instinct to shield her child from view. She fights the urge.

“Sir, we need to–”

“I heard you the first time, Agent Misora,” Bradley snaps. “The team will remain here, and carry out the operation as planned.”

“But–”

Bradley doesn’t entertain any more of her protests. He walks away, and begins conversing with another male agent.

Naomi narrows her eyes, sending a sharp glare at his back. 

A small finger taps at Naomi’s shoulder. “Mama?” Kiko whines nervously. “What’s goin’ on?”

Instead of answering, Naomi tightens the strap of the carrier to make sure that Kiko is secure. She pulls out her firearm and checks to make sure that the weapon is loaded and ready. Then, she turns abruptly and walks purposefully out of the room. No one says anything to her as she leaves.

A few minutes later, the elevator of the Prometheus Building opens at the basement level. Naomi steps out of the brightness of the elevator, leaving the soft classical music and warm tones behind her as she enters the cold, dark basement. 

Kiko shivers at the damp chill in the air, but she knows better than to be noisy while Mama is working. 

It doesn’t take too long for them to find the target. He’s standing in front of a large metal furnace. His silhouette is dark against the bright glow of the huge heater. He faces the warmth. His face is hidden from view, but Naomi can see the back of his head. He doesn’t react as she approaches him.

Naomi raises her weapon, aiming squarely at the target’s back. “Austin Dean, you’re under arrest. Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly.”

The target startles, nearly jumping out of his own skin. He raises his hands in the air and turns slowly, just as Naomi instructed him to do. When he catches sight of her, alone and with a toddler strapped to her back, his eyes go wide in surprise. “You’re the lady from the train,” he says, as his eyes flick from her to Kiko and back again.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Naomi reminds him, taking a few steps forward. Her gun never wavers from its aim directly in the middle of his chest. “Anything you say can, and will, be held against you in a court of law.”

Dean’s familiar blue eyes narrow as he assesses the situation. He lowers one of his hands and reaches for something in his back pocket. 

Before Dean can grab whatever he was reaching for, Naomi hits him with a roundhouse kick to the temple. Her shoe slams into the side of his head, and his entire body twists with the impact. He crumples to the ground, out cold. 

“Well, that was easy,” Naomi observes as she squats down next to Dean’s unconscious body. She squints at his face, and confirms that he is the young man from the train, the Kira supporter who had been extremely rude to her and the other passengers. She reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small detonator, securing it in her own jacket pocket.

Kiko giggles happily and kicks her feet. “Mama, so cool!”

Naomi takes out her phone, punches a number into the keypad, and raises the device to her ear. “Hello, Assistant Director? The target is secured.”

Hours later, after giving a full report to her superiors, Naomi finds herself back on the train, heading home. She doesn’t regret shunning all of the thanks and praise after her successful capture of the target. All of the awards and honors in the world don’t compare to the feeling of finally going home, being whisked away from the danger and violence, with Kiko sleeping peacefully at her side.

[laalaaisqueen]

IDK if this will be a full length story-Where I finally write about the canon good ending timeline

Dutch quickly gets out of the helicopter, Guardian on the other hand carefully climbs out.

“Can I have my camera back?”

“No, it’s screen is broken and you don’t need it.”

“...Can I at least have the chainsaw back?” Guardian looks behind him.

“No.”

“Ugh.”

“Mylene!” Dutch shouts up to the green soldier operating the gate.

“What?”

“Open the gate and get some soldiers to wash this filthy guy, I’m not bringing him to Richard nor even Lenny like this!”

“I’m not filthy-”

“So that’s what that sewer smell is.”

Dutch speed walks to the communication center where Lenny was grumbling under his breath at the machines.

“Do you know where Richard is?” He didn’t waste time with his normal banter. 

“A distress signal was pinpointed to a fortress.”

“Alright, thanks.” The black Teletubby walks out to find one of the pilots, he had nothing better to do so it wouldn’t kill anyone to go check on how Richard’s team is doing.

It was really late by the time all the dirt and dried blood was out of his fur and hair. They had given him clothes that weren’t his, apparently his hoodie and shorts needed a deep wash.

“Lenny should still be awake, just go to the communication center, I’m so sore.” The three soldiers split up and Guardian could only blink dumbly.

They were gone before he could ask how he was supposed to get there.

The hallways were dark and wished he had his night vision camera.

He hurried towards a lit room hoping it was the center.

“This is so fucking goddamn stupid.” A tall indigo Teletubby had his coat covered elbows against a machine while his head was down

Then suddenly punched the panel hard, it nearly giving Guardian a heart attack.

Should he say something? Or just wait until something happens?

He suddenly turns around squinting at him through something on his eyes. The only way he knew this was by the way his eyebrows moved, he didn’t even know what his eye color was. 

“Why are you talking outloud like that?” 

Guardian glanced side to side. “I…Uh…”

This man somehow already sounded so judgemental.

“I..um..sent a distress signal to the military-”

He pushes the thing on his eyes up and now can see his purple piercing gaze.

“That didn’t answer my question, but you don’t look like you work there.”

Guardian blinks.

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Why were you in the satellite station?”

“To send a distress signal.”

The male sighs exasperated while rubbing his forehead, “What was the problem?”

“It still is a problem.”

“For fucks sake-what IS the problem?”

“The custard is infected and now three test subjects are dead.”

He pauses and his previous irritated expression fell into a blank stare.

Then he sighs and heads towards a different hallway with a motion of his fingers, Guardian could only assume he was supposed to follow him.

It was so quiet and still dark, well kinda? There was a purple light, almost as if it was coming from his face.

“Are you a robot?”

“What? Why do you ask?”

“Because your eyes are glowing.”

He huffs and just ignores him.

Guardian wanted to just lay down and die as they walked through hallways, but they were both startled when a shrill chirping noise came from a shut door.

“What was that?”

“Don’t worry about it.” The other grabbed the back of ‘his’ shirt and dragged him along.

“But it sounded like a Newborn-”

“No infant makes noises like that, so don’t worry about it.” 

Guardian’s legs wanted to collapse when they walked up some stairs to a room with more machines and a table with two chairs.

“Can I sit down now? My feet are killing me.”

He gestures to the left chair, so he takes that as a yes.

The taller one sits in the other one with a heavy sigh as he leans back. “Before we dive into this test subject nonsense, what’s with those scars and your hair?”

“Well, it used to be longer but the test subject Po cut it while I was fighting her.”

“...Why would you be fighting her?”

“Because Noo-Noo sent her to kill me.”

“Dear god, we’re going to be sitting here through early morning aren’t we?” He sighs again.

“I’ve stayed up all night before.” Guardian counts on his fingers. “I couldn’t sleep so I just watched the four test subjects sleep.”

He stares at him blankly again.

There’s a short awkward silence.

“Do you not hear what’s wrong with that WHOLE sentence? We call that stalking.”

Guardian folds his arms with an annoyed grunt. “Why does everyone keep calling it that?!”

“Define ‘everyone’.” 

“Laa-Laa and you.” The white Tubby pouts. “Seriously, who does she think she is?”

“...I think we should just skip to this custard business.”

“Okay, Noo-Noo infected the custard to ‘make things better’.” Guardian huffs. “There’s nothing better about Tinky Winky killing everyone.”

“...If the rest of them got killed then how did you get into a fight with Po?”

“She came back to life, I don’t know how exactly it works, but I collected samples to try to figure it out.”

He crosses his leg, “Do you have any idea how to do that?”

Guardian’t didn’t miss a beat, “Nope.”

“...I pray you never reproduce so you don’t pass down these limited brain cells.”

“...What?”

“We can look at the samples tomorrow, I might actually go brain dead if I continue this conversation right now.” He stands up.

“Um, where am I supposed to go for now then?”

“...They didn’t give you an assigned house?”

“No?”

He huffs. “Great, one more thing to do.”

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, LEAVE IT IN THE PAST. | PRT.1

ship: jjk men: satoru & suguru x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 4.1k a/n: I had so much fun writing this, but it's so long that I broke it into 3 parts...go to 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. ʲʲᵏ if you want to understand this; also Y/n's (your) power/ability descriptions will be at the very bottom.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You pull up in front of the grand entrance of the all-girls school, immediately recognizing the stately façade. Wait, isn't this Hana's school? The same one I used to go to? You glance over at Gojo, who's chuckling behind his sunglasses.

"Alright, we're here. Ready for another mission?" he asks, the corner of his mouth curling into a sly grin.

You start to nod before pausing, taking a second look at his expression. "Wait, why do I feel like there's a catch?"

Gojo removes his sunglasses and looks you dead in the eyes. "Because this isn't an observational mission for you. You're flying solo on this one, kiddo. Oh, and you'll be looking for a cursed object—a Grade-1, to be precise."

Your stomach drops. "Wait, seriously? My first solo mission is at my old school? And you waited till now to tell me?"

"Surprise," he says with that irritatingly charming smile.

You feel like a ball of tangled nerves, but then Gojo leans in. "Hey, don't worry. No cursed spirits, just an object. I'll be outside if you need me."

Taking a deep breath, you reluctantly nod. Gojo's words chip away at your anxiety, making room for a swell of determination to rise within you. "Okay, if you say so," you tell yourself.

With a deep breath, you activate one of your techniques.

"Timebound Steps: Historical Trace"**

Your eyes immediately adjust to the influx of cursed energy, turning the normal hues of the world into vibrant swirls of colors. Like stepping into an otherworldly art gallery.

As you make your way into the school building, your eyes catch the traces of past cursed activities. And it's not just any traces—these are uncomfortably familiar.

A specific streak of cursed energy makes your skin crawl as you remember an incident from years ago: a slimy, perverted curse that had targeted Hana. It had latched onto her before slithering away, seemingly losing interest, and had been found later in the school's nurse's office, sliming over the nurse.

That was the day you realized the danger wasn't just out there; it was right here, lurking in the places you called 'home.'

Shaking off the memory, you focus back on the task at hand. The traces lead you to creaky steps that lead into the basement—a graveyard for forgotten textbooks and dusty trophies.

Okay, Y/N, you can do this, you affirm yourself, stepping into the dimly lit basement. You're like Indiana Jones, but with better fashion sense and no fear of snakes.

As you walk down the rickety steps, the wood creaking under your weight, you take in the atmosphere—dank, musky, the scent of mildew wafting in the air.

The space is cluttered with the school's forgotten past—old lockers, abandoned art projects, obsolete textbooks and decaying sports equipment.

It's an eerie underworld, a graveyard of learning and childhood ambitions. But what makes it even more unsettling are the sporadic bursts of cursed energy that you can see with your cursed technique.

They're everywhere, splashes of ethereal, unsettling hues clinging to forgotten items, or floating aimlessly through the air.

You even spot a couple of small, harmless curses too, barely registering on your danger meter. One is a blob-like creature that almost looks cute—if it weren't for its too-many eyes.

As you sift through the accumulated clutter, your eyes scanning for that distinct aura that would signify the grade-1 object you're seeking, frustration starts to set in. It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack, only the needle is cursed and the haystack is also... well, cursed.

"Ugh, where is it?" you mutter under your breath, pulling out your phone to text Gojo.

Y/N: Hey, this place is swarming with traces. Can't isolate the object. Help?

Almost instantly, your phone buzzes with his reply.

Gojo-sensei: Hang tight, I'll be right down.

While waiting, you spot a faint but peculiar trail of cursed energy different from the rest, as if whispering for you to follow. Your eyes narrow, and you cautiously step toward it. There it is—the hand sculpture, concealed among a pile of dusty textbooks and misplaced gym clothes.

The hand sculpture isn't just peculiar; it's a spectacle. Intricate etchings cover its surface, ancient alphabets from diverse cultures melding into one hypnotic tapestry. Greek, Latin, Chinese, runes of sorts—all dancing together in a chaotic ballet, drawing you in deeper into their narrative.

An ominous, trance-like aura envelops you as you edge closer. Your hand floats up as if guided by an external force, fingertips tingling, almost there...

Then Gojo's voice pierces through the air, laced with an urgency you've rarely heard from him.

"Y/N, don't—"

Your eyes lock onto his just as your hand clasps around the sculpture. And then—darkness.

Total, all-encompassing darkness.

As your senses flutter back, your surroundings slowly come into focus. You find yourself lying on a narrow bed in a place that's unmistakably an infirmary—pale walls, clinical scents, and that ever-present antiseptic vibe.

Your head is a haze of fog and cotton balls, disoriented, like you've just stepped off a merry-go-round that was spinning a tad too fast.

Your eyes scan the room, catching sight of a familiar tuft of white hair at the end of your bed. The person's face is hidden, arms acting as a makeshift pillow. Instinctively, your body fills with a sense of relief. Ah, Sensei. He must be keeping an eye on me.

Just as you're about to break the silence with his name, the curtain that's been shielding your little section of the infirmary zips open with a swoosh. In walks a young man, and you're instantly struck by how he carries himself. It's in his posture—erect, shoulders set but not tense. He's tall, probably over six feet, filling the gaps in the room, commanding attention without even trying.

He has smooth, tan skin that gives off a warm glow, contrasting beautifully with the darker, almost obsidian color of his eyes. These are eyes that don't just look; they perceive, as if dissecting you with his gaze. His nose is sharp, complementing his regal profile, and his lips—full but not overly so—are set in a neutral line yet tinged with an enigmatic sort of smile.

His long, flowing hair is a marvel in itself, well-kept and falling fluidly, framing his face and adding another layer of complexity to his already intriguing visage. His hands, hanging loosely by his sides, are battle-hardened and sculpted, wrapped in a uniform that, while vaguely similar to the styles you know, seems—well—refreshed, like a throwback but with more vibrance.

The moment your eyes meet, the atmosphere gets charged with a strange kind of electricity. His gaze is both questioning and measured, trying to place where exactly you fit into his world. You find yourself ensnared in his look, a blend of mystery and familiarity that grips your already befuddled mind.

His eyes narrow slightly, still locked onto yours. A whirlpool of emotions floods you—curiosity, mild concern, and a tinge of...intrigue? Each physical detail of him—his choice of clothing, the way his hair falls, his intense gaze—screams layers upon layers of depth, making you wonder just how far those depths go and what secrets they might hold. Just who is this guy, and why does he feel so...significant?

"Satoru, get up and stop fooling around. We have to head back to the academy," he says, not breaking eye contact with you until the last syllable escapes his lips.

You're left pondering, your mind a jigsaw puzzle of questions and half-answers, as the white-haired figure at the end of your bed starts to stir.

"Geto, you never let me have any fun," the white-haired figure whines, pushing himself up from his arms. He stretches luxuriously, like a cat who just woke up from the world's best nap, before pivoting to face you.

And then your entire universe short-circuits. Because, yes, it's Gojo, but not the Gojo you're used to. This is Gojo unburdened by years, more boyish, his eyes glowing with a youthful vigor you hadn't noticed was missing before.

It's like looking at a photograph come to life—a snapshot from a past you've never known but now find yourself thrust into.

Your heart is racing, synapses firing a million thoughts per second. You feel like you're in the middle of a crisis, both existential and immediate. It's like waking up in an episode of your favorite TV show, except this is no dream world—your instincts tell you it's far too vivid, far too real for that.

"Hey, kid. What were you doing with a grade-1 curse?" Younger Gojo finally breaks the silence, his eyes still that piercing shade of blue, studying you intently. His tone is playful but you detect an undercurrent of seriousness, leaving you with a cliffhanger feeling, like you're teetering on the edge of something both monumental and unnerving.

Your mouth opens, but words seem to be jammed in your throat. You're trying to piece together a response, something that could possibly explain what's happening, but you're at a loss. The world as you know it has been thrown into disarray, and here you are, caught in the whirlwind.

Your mental gears grind to a halt at his words, but one thing manages to stick out like a neon sign in the fog of your thoughts: "Kid?!" You shoot back, your brows knitted in a scowl. "I'm not a kid!"

Gojo gives you a look of disbelief that's so profoundly Gojo you almost feel a sense of normalcy. Almost.

"Oh, really?" He leans in, clearly amused. "And how old might you be?"

You fix him with a deadpan look. "I'm 17."

Gojo pauses, his teasing expression giving way to one of momentary contemplation. He tilts his head, as if seeing you in a new light. But it's only a beat before that devil-may-care grin returns full force.

"Oh, so we're age buddies now?" he leans in closer, and you notice something—a twinkle in his eye that wasn't there before. "Though I must say, you're pretty cute yourself."

Unbeknownst to you, he's observed that your eyes take on a certain golden sheen, a shimmer, with each fluctuating emotion. It's as if your very feelings are coloring your chrono-print eyes, imbuing them with a vivid, glowing luster.

You're gathering your wits to come up with a smart reply when Geto, looking like he's hit his limit for the day's drama, interrupts. "Are we done with the theatrics? We need to go."

Gojo glances toward him but then shoots you a playful wink. "Not quite, Geto. Our new friend is coming with us."

Geto sighs, exasperated. "You can't be serious, Sato—"

Gojo doesn't let him finish. He reaches over to you, his fingers gently guiding your face so you're looking straight at Geto. And there it is—the opal hue of your eyes now practically radiant, suffused with golden light. The atmosphere changes instantaneously, thick with tension and unanswered questions.

Geto's voice halts in his throat, his eyes going from incredulous to intensely focused as he scrutinizes your newfound radiance. You feel like a specimen under a microscope, your every secret ready to be unraveled.

There's a pause, a stillness, where even the air seems to hold its breath, waiting for the dominoes to fall. "Fine. Let's head back to the academy."

As the car smoothly rolls down the road, an experienced driver at the helm, you're sat on the left of the two fascinating energies—Geto's grounded silence and Gojo's kinetic vivacity. Your eyes keep darting to Gojo, who's proving to be this ever-unfurling mystery.

Today, he's less a walking enigma and more a ball of youthful exuberance. He's practically bouncing in his seat, regaling Geto with stories, jokes, and impressions that would probably be viral content if this reality knew what "viral" was.

Geto, at first glance, seems like he's not quite in the same car. He's composed, a steady rock against Gojo's whirlpool of energy. But then you catch it—the subtle quirk of his lips, the almost-there smiles, and the eye rolls that hold more affection than annoyance.

These quiet reciprocations are like hushed affirmations of a friendship that's both complex and deep-rooted. It's as if each of Geto's eye rolls and monosyllabic answers are a secret language only the two of them understand.

Now, the Gojo you're witnessing is shockingly different. He's not the towering figure who could easily bend reality to his whims. No, this Gojo is...younger. Not just in appearance but in the way he laughs a little too loudly, jokes a little too freely, and lives in the irreplaceable 'now.'

Your gaze locks onto the side of his head for a moment longer, wondering how many layers there are to the people you thought you knew.

As the car comes to a stop, the guards open the doors with a military efficiency that leaves no room for casualness. Gojo's eyes narrow into an uncharacteristic seriousness as you're whisked away by a different set of guards. "Where are you taking her?" His tone isn't joking or jovial—it's dead serious, an undertone of steel that you hadn't caught before.

"To a holding area. Orders from above," one of the guards replies curtly.

You can't help but throw a lingering glance over your shoulder as you're led away, catching Gojo and Geto shrinking into the distance. Gojo's eyes lock onto yours for a fleeting second, a micro-expression of concern flashing across his features before you're whisked around a corner and out of sight.

Stepping into the grand chamber, you're greeted by an imposing round table surrounded by the academy's higher-ups. The sight of them stirs a distant memory—one where you had to meet them due to the uniqueness of your eyes.

You remember how they'd looked at you then, their eyes filled with a sort of predatory hunger, as if you were some rare specimen that could potentially produce powerful future sorcerers.

It was a gaze that made your skin crawl.

This time, however, their eyes are different: cold, calculating, but also tinged with wariness, as if they don't quite know what to make of you. You're like a puzzle they haven't solved yet, and that, apparently, doesn't sit well with them.

You barely have time to brace yourself for the impending line of questioning. That's when the door slams open, and the atmosphere in the room shifts from simmering tension to full-blown crisis mode.

The messenger who bursts in is visibly shaken, his eyes wide and frantic. Sweat clings to his brow, and his chest heaves as if he's just sprinted a marathon to deliver this news.

"Emergency! Emergency!" he gasps, trying to catch his breath. "The Plasma Cult has activated one of their Forbidden Rituals! The cursed energy levels are off the charts, and it's disrupting the barriers around key locations!"

Instantly, the room becomes a hurricane of action. Papers fly off the table, chairs are pushed back, and hurried conversations occur between hushed yet frantic voices.

Scrolls are unrolled, and sigils start glowing as they discuss countermeasures. The weight of the situation is so intense that you, the mysterious intruder, are suddenly less of an immediate concern.

In this whirlwind, you're abruptly pulled aside by the same guards who brought you in. This time, they take you to a smaller, unadorned room next door, and as they shut the door behind you, you're left in the silence of your own thoughts.

A series of questions tumble through your mind. What is this Plasma Cult? How do they have the power to send this place into chaos? And where does that leave you, in the grand scheme of things?

But the one question that nags at you, even as you sit there alone, is the simplest and yet the most complex of them all: What the hell is going on?

Time seems to stretch indefinitely in that little room, each tick of the clock amplifying your spiraling thoughts into a cacophony of "what-ifs" and "now-whats." The room isn't exactly designed for comfort, and the blank walls give you nothing to focus on, deepening your dive into your own mental maze.

But then, the door creaks open, interrupting the mental turmoil.

It's Gojo, stepping in with that signature blend of mischief and nonchalance. But as he locks eyes with you, you notice something new—a weightiness in his gaze that tempers his usual playfulness. "They treating you well in this five-star suite?" he asks, grinning in a way that almost, almost makes the situation feel normal.

But the normalcy shatters when he drops the bombshell. "We need to talk about your eyes," he says, the grin remaining but his eyes turning earnest, serious even.

Your heart skips, does a somersault, and lands in your stomach. "My eyes?" you echo, your voice tinged with apprehension and a hint of confusion. What could possibly be so important about your eyes?

Tossing aside any pretense of formality, Gojo makes himself at home, perching on the edge of the bed before stretching out his long limbs. He looks so comfortable you'd think he was in his own living room.

But despite his relaxed demeanor, the gravity of the conversation isn't lost on him—or you.

"Yeah, your eyes," he leans back on his palms, capturing your gaze as if trying to read the secrets swirling in your irises. "When we stumbled upon you, you were passed out, but not alone. There was this burst of cursed energy—potent, wild—swirling around you like you were the eye of some magical storm. Initially, I just figured you were an innocent bystander, collateral damage in a rouge curse."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if piecing together a puzzle. "But then you woke up, and when I—playfully, of course—teased you, I saw it. Your eyes, once normal, began brimming with cursed energy. It was like watching a dormant volcano suddenly remember it can erupt."

Gojo's words hang heavy in the room, like charged particles just waiting to collide. There's an intensity in his eyes now, a focused attention that leaves no room for his usual teasing.

"Do you know what's happening?" he asks, his voice low and contemplative. "Have you ever channeled cursed energy before today?"

Your eyes dart away for a moment, your thoughts racing. The truth is, you're not exactly sure. There's a part of you that's worried, worried that divulging too much might disrupt whatever delicate balance keeps this reality from splintering.

The curse that sent you here—could it have been something that tapped into your unrealized potential? Could telling Gojo unravel whatever magic—or curse—that's stitched this reality together?

Taking a deep breath, you opt for a half-truth. "I don't really know," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration. "I felt the energy earlier, like a magnetic pull, but it was more like I was unconsciously following it. After that, I don't remember anything else."

Gojo takes in your words, his gaze still locked onto yours. For a moment, you think he might press further, dig deeper into the enigma that you've become. But then, he shrugs, as if conceding to the mysteries of the universe for now.

"That's fair," he says, stretching his arms above his head and yawning, reclaiming his casual demeanor as if donning a familiar jacket. "So, any ideas on what you can do? Can you blast cursed energy out of your fingertips? See the future? Command armies of Shikigami?"

His words are light, teasing even, but you sense the undercurrent of earnest curiosity. As for you, you're really not sure. But the questions he poses make you wonder—what if? What if you can do something extraordinary?

Just as you're about to formulate a response, Gojo makes himself even more comfortable, lying back on your makeshift bed like he's ready for a Netflix binge. "Before we dive into that, though," he grins, "let me tell you something about myself. I —Gojo Satoru—happen to be the strongest Jujutsu sorcerer around—yes, even stronger than grumpy Geto."

Gojo's words seem to echo in the space between you, lingering like the aftershocks of some cosmic event. The atmosphere is pregnant with potential, both exhilarating and terrifying.

For just a second, you wonder what it'd be like to share in that self-assured power he exudes, to truly understand the world of cursed energy that is so deeply entrenched in his reality—now, apparently, your reality too.

"But why am I telling you this?" Gojo suddenly asks, breaking the silence. "Because if you can see cursed energy, and better yet, have it within you, well then," he sits up, his eyes meeting yours with the intensity of a star about to go supernova, "you and I are going to have a lot of fun together."

He pauses for a moment, letting the weight of his words hang in the air. His eyes meet yours again, almost as if sizing you up. "By the way, we've been on this rollercoaster of craziness and I realize... I don't even know your last name. Formalities are boring, but sometimes necessary, don't you think?"

Caught between apprehension and the electrifying allure of the moment, you hesitate for just a second before speaking. "It's L/N," you say, nearly whispering, as if saying it too loudly could break the spell that's hung in the room.

"Oh, c'mon. We're the same age here. Doesn't that earn me a first-name basis?" He grins, taking a step closer, invading your personal space just a bit. "Besides, I think you're cute, so that's got to count for something, right?"

His words catch you off guard, causing your cheeks to heat up. The audacity of this man to flatter you so shamelessly! It's disarming, how he can be so blunt yet so captivating all at once.

Seeing your eyes fall to the ground in shyness, Gojo's eyes glint mischievously. "See? I knew you'd look even cuter when you blushed."

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you. "You're impossible," you mutter.

"And you're adorable when you're flustered. So, do we have a deal? First names?"

You look up, catching his gaze. It's intense, like he's looking right into you, but not in a way that feels invasive. Instead, it feels like he's inviting you to let your guard down, to be on equal ground—even if just for this stolen moment in time.

Taking a deep breath, you finally give in. "Alright, Satoru. My first name is Y/N."

He blinks, clearly not expecting you to actually give in. And for the first time, you see his cheeks heat up ever so slightly. "Well, look at that," he murmurs, his voice softer than you've heard it before. "Y/N, huh? I like it. It suits you."

Before you can ask what he means by 'fun' earlier, the door bursts open once again. It's Geto, his eyes scanning the room before locking onto Satoru.

"Enough chit-chat. We've got another emergency. And you—" Geto points at you, his expression unreadable, "you're coming with us this time."

Satoru's eyes twinkle like he's just been told Christmas came early. "See? What did I tell you? Fun."

And as you rise from your seat, caught in this whirlwind of events you still don't fully understand, you can't shake the feeling that you're standing at the edge of something monumental. It's as if the universe is holding its breath, waiting to see what you'll do next.

You steal a quick glance at Satoru and Geto—two figures who, despite their stark differences, seem so sure of their place in this world.

For a moment, you're gripped by a pang of envy, swiftly followed by a gnawing sense of displacement.

You don't understand how you got here, what these new abilities mean, or how your life turned into this whirlwind of inexplicable events. A string of questions—each one more pressing than the last—swirls around in your mind, none offering the solace of an answer.

But despite the confusion, the uncertainty, and the surrealism of it all, there's a tiny seed of resolve that plants itself deep within you.

You don't know how you ended up in this situation, but you're determined to see it through, to understand this world of curses and magic, if only to find your way back... to whatever 'back' means now.

And as the door shuts behind you, sealing off what little familiarity you had, you make a quiet promise to yourself: you'll navigate this labyrinth, confront its monsters, its mysteries, and find a way back—wherever and whatever that may be.

A/N: lol idk where im going w/ this but shits about to pop off, respectively loollol

🇾‌/🇳‌'🇸‌ 🇵‌🇴‌🇼‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌/🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇮‌🇪‌🇸‌ 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌🇮‌🇷‌ 🇩‌🇷‌🇦‌🇼‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌🇸‌:

"Timebound Steps: Historical Trace"**

Let her see footprints/traces from up to 30 days in the past. Can focus on specific individuals' footsteps/curse traces... Drawbacks: Using this ability for an extended period drains her energy...

[silassinclair]

“You’re my Muse”

[Billy H. x Artistic Reader] 🎨

Summary: Y/n loves Billy’s face. He’s just so handsome and gorgeous and UGH. She loves holding his face and looking into his eyes, and Billy is just like, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFF

Glam metal music played softly from Billy’s stereo. The volume was turned down more than his usual listening volume because his girlfriend Y/n was doodling in her sketchbook on his bed. He absolutely adored her. She was cute seven ways to sunday. Her cute little hobby of drawing, her love for bugs, but most importantly was her weird fascination for his face.

Weird because it was only his face. Her pages were full of realistic sketches of his face at many different angles and making many different expressions. He was flattered and never questioned it, but it got to the point where she would hold his face in her hands for long minutes at a time and just stare adoringly.

Billy loves her to the moon and back but he cannot help but feel… a little weirded out by her quirky behavior, not in a bad way of course. So he finally asks, “Hey baby?”

The sound of pencil on paper stops. “Yeah Billy?” Y/n asks and crawls over to him. He was seated on the floor against the bed she was on so she leaned down and put her cheek against his, another thing she did quite often.

“Not to sound mean.” He starts, “But I gotta ask you, what is with you and always being all over my face. I know that I’m handsome and attractive and the hottest guy ever but I can’t help but feel like you have a weird fascination for my face.” He says with a light grin.

An awkward pause fills the room. Even the song on the stereo was quieting down, playing it’s last part.

“Well uh.” Y/n say straight up and scratched her neck. She knew this day would come. After all personal space is important so of course her boyfriend would question her weird actions. “I just really like your face.”

Billy turned around with a quirked up eyebrow and a smirk. “Oh I know that babe. That’s why you’re all over me after all. But I wanna know more. Give me the sweet juicy details.” His thumb brushed against her hand that he had held in his.

“To put it simply, you’re my muse Billy.” She said with a smile. Her head tilted to the side to see Billy’s facial expression change from smugness to wonder.

“Your jawline is sharp, cheekbones are prominent, and your eyes,” Y/n gently takes hold of his face. His head is turned up as her fingers trace gently against his jaw. Billy is at a loss for words, no one has EVER said anything like this to him before.

“Your eyes are absolutely stunning. I could drown in that gorgeous blue color.” She places a small peck on the space between his eyes.

“And don’t get me started on your lips.” Her thumb traces the plump bottom lip. “They’re so smooth and plump. I just wanna kiss em all day.”

At this point Billy’s face was as red and flush as the crimson paint Y/n used in her artworks. The affection was almost overwhelming. His brain simply couldn’t process how someone so sweet, cute, and humble could adore him this much. He thought men were the ones who were supposed to fluster their girlfriends, but apparently it was the other way around right now.

“I love all of you.” Y/n whispered softly and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

In the blink of an eye Billy pounced and had Y/n pinned under his body. Her arms spread limply by her sides under the soft cushion of Billy’s mattress.

“Do you really mean that?” Billy said. His tone was like a whisper. Hope in his voice wishing it were true, but he knew it was too good to be true. “All that you said, you mean it?” His golden brown locks fluttered from side to side, framing his perfect face.

The girl reached a hand up to cup the jaw of her lover above. A smile painted her face. “I meant every word, love.” That petname for him had hime weak in the knees any time she said it, which was pretty rarely. Usually she’d just call him Billy, baby, or B.

Billy leant down and trapped her lips in a heated kiss. He never wanted tor leave this moment. In between kisses Y/n giggled, her arm’s wrapped around his neck lovingly.

“Aw? Is my sweet boyfriend flustered? Or do you just really like being praised and complimented?”

A growl escaped the depths of his throat. “How could I not be a blushin’ mess when you say shit like that?” His lips traced the shell of her ear. “God I don’t deserve you baby.” His whisper sent a shiver down her spine.

She smirked and batted her lashes, “Oh and that sexy voice of yours, I could listen to it all da-”

She was cut off with a kiss. Her boyfriend’s eyes were wide and his cheeks were on fire, his bottom lip twitching too much so he bit down on it.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll show you how much I love you more.”

[kissbentennyson]

I have no idea if you'd do this but I need a nega ben x reader. He's my favorite out of the alternates. A softer one shot would be nice but whatever you're feeling is good too! I'll take any content I can get!

*Emo Boy by Ayesha Erotica begins to play* Yeah me too.

Nega Ben x Reader | reader uses they/them pronouns, but dresses femininely.

Spill

He’d been waiting all day, and I mean, all day. Classes always seemed to drag on and on longer when he wanted something, and sure, he could have skipped. But that would have taken too much effort not to get caught. He isn’t afraid of the cops or the school administration… But dealing with his parents? Yeah, no. Not worth it. He’d b-lined it across Bellwood, all the way to the “café” he frequented. Truthfully, it wasn't much of a café seeing as how they specialize in more smoothie like drinks, but whatever. It has been rather crowded, too crowded, and everyone just wanted to get in then out.

He should have expected to bump or get bumped into someone, but it didn’t dawn on him until his espresso smoothie was all over your bright pink, fuzzy sweater. Both of you stood there with slack jaws and wide eyes as the brown liquid dripped from your chest and down onto an equally as pink lolita-esque skirt. It looked expensive, not in a daddy's money way, in a “I saved up to buy this” way. And so, he was prepared for hell.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry!”

When it left you, Ben was confused. “Gosh, I should have been looking where I was going… But I was too distracted. Ugh, I-” You were flustered , more than actually, embarrassed is the correct word. “Um… Give me a second and I'll buy you a new one…”

“What?”

Watching as you tried to pat away the coffee with one of the recycled paper napkins the café gives out, a million thoughts passed through him. Of course he took the offer, he wanted that coffee. The line was a lot shorter this time around, and got by a lot quicker too. You ordered for him as he zoned out suddenly looking over your shoulder at him. “What?” He asks, watching you get even more flustered. “I just asked if you wanted anything else. Do you?” “Oh, uh, yeah.” he clears his throat, raising his voice. “The kale chips.”

You both walked out together, your head was down and you watched your shoes as you walked. “Again, I’m really sorry.” He glances at you with a slight side eye as he sips on the coffee, this was the gazillionth time you’ve apologized in just the last few minutes. “It’s… whatever.” He lets out a quick and breathy chuckle. “You apologize to me, but I ruined your sweater.” All of the sudden, your embarrassment seemed non-existent. A light and bubbly laugh leaving you. “Ruined? Oh, trust me, I’ll be just fine. I've dealt with worse.”

“Anyways! I have to get home and change, It was nice meeting you!”

-

The lunch room was beyond packed, packed like the reunion tour of a popular punk band from the 2000's. The doors and tables overflow with hungry and impatient mouths. You had managed to get in before the rush and snag a serving of less than okay school food, but by the time you got out of line, they had all flooded in. People had no concern for others around them, pushing and shoving like toddlers over toys, and you were getting the brunt of it. Not actually, but it sure felt like it.

You were halfway across the room and were looking around the tables for a free space- but it was too late for that already. A body slams into yours hard, you hit the ground as your food falls and splatters all of the chest of the sweater you had just gotten the coffee stain out of. Feet come down around you as you struggle to get up, the other person now looming over you. “Could you have watched where you were going!?” This whole situation was not intentional, but they had no right to get angry at you for that.

You felt the tips of your ears heat, unable to answer. Her eyes bore down on you as she sways with every passing body bumping into her. Suddenly, you feel a hand grab the back of your sweater and pull you from the ground, as if they were scruffing a cat. “Or, maybe you could stop play fighting with your friends in the cafeteria, like a bitch.” Her jaw drops and her freckled face goes red with embarrassment, obviously on the fact that she can't pawn her mistake off on someone else this time. The voice was rather monotone- in a way- compared to the words spoken. And rather familiar.

When you look up it’s the guy from the café, his neutral expression was a thin vale to hide his irritation- at least to you. His hand still had a grip on the back of your shirt, it was a firm hold, and it made you just a tad bit nervous. You swallow as the person swallows her embarrassment, rolling her eyes desperately to try and hide. “Whatever freak, sorry…” she turns and disappears into the crowd. You watch her do so, completely shocked at the situation at hand. Your lips part to say something, but his grip on your sweater releases, being replaced by an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly, you’re being dragged through the crowd and towards the cafeteria door.

He walks you out into the hallway, which is mostly empty at this point. “Thank you.” you choke out through the lump in your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps walking with you- and you aren’t in any position to object.

Eventually you reach the stairs. Under it is a mostly empty black backpack, and there’s a light reflection of gold from inside. The weight of his arm leaves your shoulders and he walks ahead, sliding under the stairs and sitting with his back to an old AC unit. You hesitate for a moment, you’ve only met this guy one other time… maybe you should just wait…… nah.

Sliding under the stairs right after him, you sit straight across from the guy. He’s already looked away. “I think we have third period together. Your name is Ben, right?” His phone is already out, and he’s scrolling through it. “Well I'm…” you give him your name, and all he does is look up at you with a nod before going back to his phone. The volume is low, but there are noises coming from it, ones you recognize. “Is that the Sumo Slammers mobile game?” There was no judgement in your voice at all, and suddenly the losing end sound plays.

The corners of his mouth twitch. “Yeah?” “My little brother is obsessed with that series. He says that the mobile game isn’t that good, but he still played it to the end.” He let out a little huff like laugh through his nose, pressing the power button and finally giving you his full attention. “Yeah, maybe the old one wasn't that good, but this one is a new release- Doesn’t even have dubbed lines yet.” He clears his throat, slouching a bit as his hands slide into his pockets. “Actually, it’s not fully released in the states yet. I got pre access to the game.” He watches you smile, and suddenly there's a slight tense feeling in his chest.

“That’s really cool, are you a beta tester or something?” He shrugs. “No, and it’s whatever.” He glances away, gaze holding on the wall. “Well I think it’s really cool, especially since it's a series you like.” “How do you know that?” His gaze snaps back to you, suddenly defensive. “Your backpack is open and the sun is reflecting off of the cold backing of the trading cards.” You lazily point to the stairs above you, and there is the reflected image of the symbol on the cards. “Those are the collectors additions, from japan. I know because I’ve been looking for that exact deck for my brother.”

You watch as his cheeks dust a light pink color, lightly nudging his bag so it falls over. He starts avoiding eye contact, leaning back fully against the old AC unit. “Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be cleaning up your sweater?” You lean back against the stairs. “Yeah, maybe. But I think you’re kinda cool, and I’d like to stay.”

It was rather silent the rest of lunch, when you tried to hold a conversation- he would end it with short answers that gave you nothing to build off of. The bell rings above you like the screech of an angered bird. You both get up, him raising from the floor before you. You brush the dirt off of the back of your thighs, the light sound of unzipping catching your attention. You watch as the zipper of his hoodie comes down as he pulls it. Yanking it off of his shoulders, revealing the greenish-grey long sleeve he had under it.

“Here. Even if you get the food off, it’ll still stain.” He hands you the coat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, the already open flap lolling open even more. “Oh, thank you, I don’t know what to sa-” “Don’t. Don’t say anything. This never happened.” He walks past you and into the crowd of students, with his head down.

You watch as he does so, eventually looking back down at the hoodie in hand. You feel your face just slightly twinge with heat. “Yeah… Alright.” You say under your breath as you rush off to the nearest bathroom to scrub the food scum from your sweater.

-

It was a game day.

Not that he kept track of that, he had never been into football. Once upon a time he played soccer, but after he got the Negatrix any hopes of that former love returning was gone. Ben knew it was game day because his cousin was in her cheerleading outfit- and it was no were near time for cheer competitions. Her makeup was done and her strawberry blonde hair was pulled up, and she sat in the front seat of her boyfriend's car chatting to said boyfriend about the routines she had to do.

Ben sat in the back, as he always did, waiting for the drive to be over. It came soon enough as the car pulled into the drop off area in front of the school, slowing to a stop. Neither Tennyson waited for it to fully stop before opening their doors. He got out, closing it with a slam and without a thank you. Gwen still leaning in and talking. The chatter of the hoard of tired teenagers flocking into the building almost drowned out the shouting of his name.

Almost.

He groans, looking over his shoulder, spotting the mass of pastels jogging towards him with something in their arms. “I’m so glad I got here on time! They were packed this morning- and I thought I'd be late- but I made it.” In your arms is his hoodie and an espresso smoothie. You hand him your gifts with a large smile. “I um, washed the jacket for you. Thanks again.” The bell rings and you give a quick wave before pushing into the school building yourself.

His jaw hangs slack, looking down at his freshly cleaned jacket- lint free, folded, and still warm- and the smoothie. When he moves there's a light cracking from inside the jacket, like the sound of a chip bag. He pulls back one of the folds and there is a bag of kale chips, stuck to it is a yellow sticky note written on with a pink gel pen. A phone number with “See you at lunch.”

“Who was that?” Ben looks over at his cousin, an impressed smirk on her lips.

“You’re getting mileage out of this, huh?” “Soooo much.”

[krispyalpacaduck]

Rescue Me - Chapter 3

Rescue Me - Prologue | Rescue Me - Chapter 1 | Rescue Me - Chapter 2 | Rescue Me - Chapter 4 | Rescue Me - Chapter 5 | Rescue Me - Chapter 6 | Rescue Me - Chapter 7

Pairing: Morbius x Reader

F/D - Favorite drink

Y/N - Your name

F/S - Favorite scent

F/C - Favorite color

Warnings: Language

Walking down the sidewalk coming home from work, you stopped at a newsstand. 

“Hey, Frank. How’s it going?” 

“Hey Y/N! Haven’t seen you in a couple days. I don’t have any new books yet. I did get some new note and sketchbooks in though.” 

“That’s okay. I have a to-be-read pile a mile high in my apartment.” You said, chuckling. Browsing the newspaper, you spot one with Michael’s face on the front page. Picking it up, the headline read Dr. Michael Morbius Apprehended in the Vampire Murders

You swallow the sudden lump in your throat. 

“Glad they finally caught him. Guy looks like a freak.”

You snapped your head up, an angry expression on your face about to give him an earful, then thought better of it. You liked Frank. He was one of the few people you felt safe talking to. Plus, you didn’t want him to think you were in league with a murderer. 

“As if the streets of New York were any safer before he came along.” You opted instead as you read the article. Looking up at Frank, you say, “How many times have you been robbed this week, Frank?”

He looked surprised, then bowed his head. You decided to buy two of the notebooks and a sketchbook. As you handed him the money, you said,

“Keep this somewhere safe. I’d hate to see my favorite newsstand vendor go out of business because of city riffraff.”

He smiled in a fatherly way, taking the money from you.

“Thank you, Y/N. Appreciate ya.”

~~~~~~

“Hey, where’s that cripple that was with you the other night? Did you scare him away, too?” The desk clerk looked up and down your body lewdly, biting his lip. Sucking in a breath, he said, “Nah, you’re probably into that vampire psycho running around town. Oh, wait, they arrested him.” He made a sad face, using his finger to drag a tear down his cheek. 

Your jaw clenched in anger, your hands balling into fists. Taking a deep breath, you began to laugh loudly and turned to him.

“Oh my god, you’re so funny.” 

Putting your hand under your chin, you cocked your head at him. “How are you still single?”

“I know, right? I’m hilarious.” He looked you up and down again, causing you to repress a shiver. “You free later?”

Putting on a sultry face, you placed your tongue to the roof of your slightly open mouth and reached out to grab his tie, pulling him towards you. He licked his lip, smiling big. You smiled back at him, leaning into his lips. 

“I knew you wanted me.” He purred.

Reaching into your bag, you grabbed one of the notebooks and cracked him upside the head with it. He looked surprised and yanked himself back.

“What the fuck?! Bitch!”

You winked as you put the notebook back in the bag, walking towards the elevator.

“Do you really want to fuck around and find out anymore? Take this as a lesson. Stop being a creep.”

A cleaning lady was walking by who had seen the whole thing. She held up her hand and you high fived it as you got to her.

“I could have you thrown out of here, you know!”

“Oh yeah? On what grounds? Putting a sleaze in his place?”

“My father knows the owner!”

“Curious. Does your father know about all of the sexual harrasment complaints?”

He jerked his head back, then snarled

“Watch your back, bitch.”

Getting into the elevator, you started to shake a little bit as the anger wore off. Then you started to worry. What if he made good on his words and retaliated? Almost to your apartment, you were lost in your thoughts when you distantly heard a voice yell,

“Shit, no! Maggie, come here! Bad dog!”

Just as a furry missile knocked you off your feet.

~~~~~~

A German Shepherd was licking you senseless in the face. Trying to sit up, Maggie jumped all over you.

“Ugh, Maggie. You licked me in the mouth.” You said, laughing as you wiped your mouth. She continued to lick you until she saw her owner run up, then hid behind you.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Maggie, come. Bad girl. You can’t be doing that!”

You looked back at Maggie cowering behind you, then to her owner. “It’s okay, Beth. She just missed me is all.”

“She made a beeline right for you as soon as she saw you. You’re the first person I’ve seen that she gets that excited to see.”

You cupped her face in your hand and squished her jowls. Maggie licked you again. 

“Who’s my baby girl? You are! Yes you are!” You said, baby talking her.

“So, hey. I have a question for you.” Beth said shyly.

Finally able to get up, you walked the rest of the way to your apartment, unlocking it.

“Come on in! We can talk in here.”

Maggie ran into your apartment, jumping onto your couch as you and Beth walked in.

“Make yourself at home, Maggie!” You said sarcastically.

“Maggie, down! Off the couch.”

“Beth, she’s fine. Relax.” You said with a smile.

“She knows better.”

“Coffee?” You asked.

“I’d love some!” Beth said enthusiastically. 

After you made the coffee, you and Beth sat down on your couch, watching her smell it and sigh with content.

“So, what did you want to ask me?” You prompt.

“I hope this isn’t weird and we don’t know each other super well, but I was hoping to ask if you wouldn’t mind watching Maggie for a few days to a week? I’m going away with my family and I’m worried about taking her on a plane.

“Hmm… let’s ask Maggie.”

Turning to the dog, you say, “What do you think, Maggie? Would you want to stay here for a little bit?”

Her ears perked up, her head cocking to the side before she leapt on you and kissed you.

“I’ll take that as a yes!”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’ll pay you, of course.”

“I’d watch her for free anytime, Beth. You don’t need to pay me. When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow. I’ll bring enough food for her and all of her toys.”

Maggie turned to the balcony window, suddenly growling with her teeth bared.

“Maggie, what is it?” Beth asked, looking around.

Your heart skipped a beat, worried.

She looked to you as you held a wide eyed stare. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Blinking rapidly a few times, you turned your gaze back to her. 

“Yeah. I may or may not have cracked a notebook against the desk clerk’s head today when he was being creepy. He told me to watch my back. I’m hoping it was just a heat of the moment threat, but he kind looks like the type to end up on a sex offender’s list.”

Beth visibly shivered and acted like she was going to throw up.

“Oh my God, I know right? I don’t know how he’s even still working here.”

Truth be told, you were partially worried about the desk clerk and more worried about the direction Maggie had turned. You had just read in the paper that he was arrested. Why would she be looking out the balcony window and growling? Maggie turned back to you then, her sweet, panting face a relief. She whined softly and put her head on your lap, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

“You know it’s weird. She did that the other night too. Didn’t you have a break-in or something?”

Hiding your face in your hands, you said, “Oh my God, you heard about that?”

“I think the whole hotel did.”

“Great.” You said, dragging your fingers down your face, embarrassed. 

“We saw all the cop cars out front and a couple FBI agents. Why would they be here?”

“They’re just on edge with the whole Michael Morbius vampire murder nonsense. Being extra careful I guess. It wasn’t a break-in. I broke my balcony window trying to kill a rat. $3000 down the drain.”

She started to laugh hysterically. When she calmed down, she turned dreamy eyes to you, head leaning against her hands.

“Dr. Michael Morbius. He’s a whole lot of yummy, huh? He has the prettiest eyes.”

You looked down and smiled softly. “He does and he’s wicked smart too.”

“Y/N’s got a crush. Y/N’s got a crush.” Beth singsonged.

“Shut up, I do not.” You said laughing, throwing a pillow at her face. 

“Welp, me and Maggie best be off.” Beth said, standing up. “We’ll be over around 2 or 3 in a couple days to drop everything off. I really appreciate you watching her. Will you be home then?

“Of course! Anytime! Yes I will be here. My job is allowing me to go remote, thank goodness.” Turning to Maggie, you said, “Bye, Maggie. I’ll see you soon!”

Maggie licked you in the face a few times before turning to leave with Beth. After they had gone, you stared off into your apartment, rubbing your fingers on your thumb before jumping up to check the balcony area. 

You didn’t see anything at first then caught sight of something on the handle. Opening the door slowly, you saw a f/c paper crane. Your eyes widened as you scanned the skyline, wondering if he was still hanging around.

“Here… he was here…” You said softly, picking up the crane.

Taking one last look at the skyline, you closed the door and shut the curtains.

Tags:

@lex-the-flex

@nekoannie-chan

[slafkovskys]

Tanning in your backyard in the smallest bikini you have because why not and Kent’s just staring cause you look hot as hell

a lil bit suggestive under the cut

“are you two serious?” you groan, picking your head up from where it rested in the crook of your arm. you watch as your brother drags the practice goal further into the backyard while your boyfriend trails behind, holding a bucket of pucks in one hand and a couple of sticks in the other, “i told the both of you to leave me alone.”

“you aren’t mom and you don’t own the backyard, y/n,” drew rolls his eyes before kicking over the bucket of pucks after kent sets it down. you let your eyes drift to your boyfriend and drew chuckles, “it was his idea.”

“ugh,” you grunt, turning your head away from them and the sun that was burning the side of your face, “whatever. you just better hope that you don’t hit me. mom will kill both of you.”

“i really don’t understand how you put up with her,” you hear your brother not so quietly mumble and you send him your middle finger in response. the both of them chuckle before drew groans, “shit, i forgot to retape my stick. i’ll be right back.”

you hear his footsteps retreat towards the garage and you lift your head again to find your boyfriend already staring at you. you make sure the coast is clear before pushing yourself up and his eyes immediately drop to your bare chest. you grin, picking up your bikini top and tie it around your neck as he visibly swallows the lump in his throat, “you’re so lucky he knows that we’re together because you are terrible at being subtle.”

“subtle?” he says, making his way towards you, “you’re wearing the smallest bikini that i’ve ever seen and i’m supposed to not look at you?”

“‘m still your best friend’s sister,” you watch as he takes a seat beside you on the towel you had laid on the ground, “and you were looking at me like you could take me right here.”

“i’ve done it before, i’ll do it again,” you feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of your last little rendezvous outdoors and he leans in. you think that he’s going to kiss you, but he instead hooks his finger in the thin string of your bikini top, “what’s the point of it anyway?”

you swallow as his finger trails down the expanse of your side, “it’s meant for laying out. leaves fewer lines.”

“you’re bringing that to the lake. do you have other colors?” you shake your head and he hums, “can you get more colors?”

“if i get express shipping,” you offer and he nods, “it’s like $20-”

“i’ll cover that,” both of your heads turn when you hear your brother’s laugh. he sighs and pushes himself off of the ground just as drew rounds the corner. he bends down and presses his lips to the top of your head, “but first, we can see if they actually do leave fewer lines. are you gonna let me take it off of you later?”

you take a deep breath, sparing your brother a glance. he’s got his phone to his ear and doesn’t seem to be paying the two of you any attention. your eyes shift back to your boyfriend, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “why do we have to wait?”

“oh sweetheart,” he sighs, “you’re gonna wait because you wanna be good and i know how well you listen. you’re gonna wait because if you don’t, you won’t enjoy the outcome.”

he backs away then, sending you a wink and a smirk as he rejoins your brother. drew shakes his head, “i don’t even wanna know.”

“no,” kent says as he grabs his stick, pulling a puck in front of him with the blade, “you don’t.”

[yoongsisbae]

Handshakes of a Lifetime - Chapter 6

BTS soulmate AU. OT7 x reader / Taehyung x reader focused in this chapter, slight Jungkook x reader and Namjoon x reader

Usually by the time I finish a chapter, I will have a nice chunk of the next chapter done, when I finished chapter 5 I had TWO SENTENCES FOR THIS CHAPTER cries, ugh this was a journey lol but I had fun along the way :). Also, I wanted to shoutout @missseoulite I remember having a really bad day when I saw your sweet comment about being eager for the new chap and just knowing someone cared enough to wish me safety and care about my well being, well it meant a lot to me, so this chapter is dedicated to you my dear!!!! <3

Word count: 10.3k

Warnings: death, mention of a suicide, if you’re like me and don’t like to think about being old this chapter might trigger an existential crisis lol, cheating, men being sexist, angst but also fluffiness, sex with Taehyung, breeding kink, a character calls you and Tae children but you are two very grown adults I just wanted to make that super duper clear.

---

“I want to try, I think it would be worth it, you’ll be worth it.”

‘Why did he have to say that,’ you wince, looking over at the idol. He is beautiful, way out of your league, above you in every way, and he’s looking back at you like his whole world hangs in the balance. How could you reject him now. You groan.

You stand up. You place your palm in front of his face, your fingers splayed out, you can see his wide excited eyes in the gaps between them. You look at him expectantly. Taehyung nods, places his palm to yours, interlocking your fingers together.

Your heart thumps wildly as darkness fills the room. You open your eyes once you hear the familiar voice of your husband call out to you, “No need to fret anymore, my beloved. I’m here now.” Taehyung’s hand covers your old and frail fingers. You lie in your bed, body tired and weathered from all the years you’ve spent on this earth.

Your eyes roam over the room, taking in all the faces of your beautiful children and grandchildren. The pain in your tired joints fades as you focus on the man you’ve only grown to love more in all the years you’ve been together. It’s because of him you’ve lived a fulfilled life full of love. With him by your side you’re ready now.

You look up from your crouched position, the flowers you’ve picked lie fresh and pretty in your basket. You look to the dirt path where a man is running towards you. ‘What is a man doing here of all places?’ you think.

He comes to a stop once he sees you, hands on his knees as he gasps for breath. He looks young and beautiful, though his robes are askew and torn and his face glistens as sweat drips from his chin. You almost decide to ignore him and go back to your duties until you notice the red lines that peak from the uncovered parts of his torso. The cuts look painful. You hesitate, “Do you need some assistance?”

“Don’t mind me, fair maiden,” his breathing is still heavy as he speaks. He looks around, taking in his surroundings. ‘What is he looking for?’ you wonder. You can tell he is trying to hide his panic, but it comes through in his tense movements and jittery eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?”

Four men on horse approach you. You notice they are soldiers by the gold plates that cover their body. You hold the flower basket a little tighter to your chest. The first soldier speaks, “Have you seen a man come through this way?”

“You’re the only men I’ve seen for days.”

You feel their lewd stares on you, your stomach churns from the unwanted attention. One soldier dismounts his horse and stalks closer to you. “A pretty little thing like you wouldn’t dare lie to us?” he questions.

“I swear on goddess Athena.” You stand still and look to the ground as he invades your space. The soldier brings a calloused hand to your chin to make you look at him, his companions snickering at your discomfort.

“For days? You must be lonely, poor sweet thing you are.” The other soldiers dismount and circle you. You try to keep your face neutral from the disgust you feel as their eyes rake over your body.

“It is as I said,” your eyes shift to the marble walls of the temple behind you. “I would not lie in Athena’s name, I am protected by her watch.” You emphasize your last words, keeping your limbs close and suppressing your instincts to fight and draw this encounter out any longer than need be.

The men look over to the temple and begin to move closer to the entrance. You follow after them, dropping your basket and letting the flowers scatter into the dirt in your haste.

“No men shall enter, unless you want to face the wrath of the goddess herself,” you yell from behind them. The men laugh. You find the courage to pull at the leader’s armour to cease his advancing. “You will be cursed if you go in there, sir!”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide as he hides underneath the blanket you’ve covered him in. He removes his hand from the temple’s wall, and brings his knees up and off the floor, trying to touch as little as possible of his surroundings.

The men scoff at your words, the leader shoves you away but does not advance any closer. You’ve taken up enough of their time, and they need to find this criminal before The Queen bestows her own kind of punishment upon them.

“Be careful, girl. There is a dangerous man fleeing prosecution, pray to your Goddess we find him before you do.” You find their warning quite ironic as you watch the leader kick your basket. You assume in an attempt to be intimidating, but in your opinion it makes him look more like a petulant child, your brow ticks in annoyance.

Only when they are completely out of your sight do you let go of the breath you were holding. You run into the temple, crashing into the stranger as he runs out.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims, his hands grabbing onto you to keep you from falling. Electricity zips through you as you both break away stunned. You rub at your arms to take away your goosebumps. The stranger lowers the hand that clutched at his chest, his wide eyes looking at you in question.

“Is it true? A curse is the last thing I need right now!” he laments. You giggle. The soldiers called this man dangerous?

“The rules say no man is to enter, yes.” His horrified expression makes you laugh even more. “But...they are more like guidelines,” you assure him. “Enough temple priestesses have brought their fair share of men back and nothing too sinister has happened yet, by the gods.”

It does little to lessen his worry. He looks at you skeptically. “I thought Athena’s priestesses were supposed to stay virginal in honor of the goddess’s protection.”

“Oh,” you offer him a smile, “that is her protection. It is perception that protects us.”

You eye the man, his features are sharp, striking; almost intimidating; but his aura is quite soft. “...protects us from men. In this world there are very few true heroes, I’m afraid most only live inside songs.”

He looks at you in understanding. “My apologies, you had to deal with those soldiers alone. I couldn’t do anything to defend you.” He winces at the thought, “For you to have shielded me instead, I thank you.” He offers you a deep bow and you feel butterflies dance in your chest.

“Can I ask as to why you’re running?”

He looks to the direction he came, unable to meet your eyes. “Ahh, well...I am in poor favor with The Queen.”

Your eyes widen, you’ve heard rumors of her beauty even in the remoteness of your area, and even more of her kingdom’s hedonism. The man in front of you is truly beautiful. He could be one of her lovers, you think, he most definitely looks the part. His robes though now disheveled are of expensive fabric and show off his lean body, and the way he holds himself you can’t imagine him to be a common worker. “So, you and The Queen, I see...”

“Oh! It’s not what you think...I’m a mere poet. I sing to The Queen and her Court, but she suddenly wanted more of me than I am willing to offer. I-I rejected her.”

Your eyes widen again. “That was most unwise.”

He smiles, his eyes cast down. “I can bear the weight of my faults. I plan to leave to another province.”

“You’ll rather leave your home? But it is The Queen!”

“As you can see, there is punishment in denying The Queen of her desires.”

You’re astonished. “I can’t imagine being with her to be so horrible you’d choose to run instead, give up all you’ve acquired?”

“I rather give myself to someone for love.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken at his words, ‘so idealistic.’ You’ve never encountered an individual with such delicate presence, a trait you find most unconventional. A smile pulls at one of the corners of your mouth, “Aphrodite must favor you.”

Taehyung laughs, his eyes softening, “Thank you again, someone must favor me to put you in my path.” His warm dark eyes hold your gaze. “I mustn’t stay too long…”

“Yes, of course! Well then…” You falter in your farewell. He struggles with the decision to leave. Taehyung knows he must, The Queen’s soldiers could come riding through again at any moment, and he doesn’t want to think of the punishment they would bestow upon you if they learned of your lies, so why can’t he seem to let go of your company?

He notices the trampled flowers littered on the ground around you, the colorful petals lay beautiful and ruined, a fate he worries will become yours if he doesn’t make haste. He picks up an unbroken blossom. “Thank you again.” He places the flower in your palms, a warmth spreads over you through your fingertips as you hold your breath in reverence. His thumbs stroke your fingers gently, and then he nods at you one last time and moves to run again. You feel a pressure building in your throat, unready to bid him farewell, and you don’t understand why this man whom you’ve just met is affecting you so. His kindness and his gentleness makes your body yearn to learn more. What can you do, he’s a stranger and not yours to keep, you must let him go.

His flower stays cradled in your hands, you feel your chest tighten more and more with each step he takes that brings another stretch of distance between your bodies. Your limbs itch to move. What should you do? It is what you want to do that makes you so afraid. You silently ask Athena for guidance. It is only when he turns past the treeline and out of sight that you can’t take it any longer.

You run into the temple. You race to your small quarters, and gather anything you deem valuable, not very much. Pushing down the thoughts that tell you you’re acting crazed and without reason, you fasten your belongings to your body. You race out of the temple's entrance and crash once again into a body that jolts your nerve endings with an undeniable energy. You stare into his eyes once more, the man you saved. He looks down at you, eyes wide with surprise but full of mirth.

A horse carries you and Taehyung farther North. You travel in comfortable silence, as your hands rest snugly around his waist. After riding with him for so long, you are no longer shy to hold him, accustomed to being pressed up against his back. You listen to the steady rhythm of horse hooves against the earth. It is peaceful and you find yourself smiling against Taehyung’s back.

The bright lush green landscape turns dark and threatening as the two of you ride past an abandoned village. The wooden wreckage smolders still. You gasp at the sight, so many homes lost. Taehyung taps the horse’s body with his foot to quicken its step.

“Stop!” You yell at Taehyung once you notice a shift amongst the rubble. You jump off before he properly stops his stead, running towards the wreckage to confirm what you thought you had witnessed.

Taehyung runs after you, warning you to be careful. Once you reposition a large plank of wood, you gasp at what you see. There’s a bleeding old woman pinned underneath, still alive. You call for Taehyung’s help, the both of you pulling her as delicately as you can manage from beneath the rubble.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive, it’s a miracle by The Gods.” Taehyung holds the old woman’s hand as you run to the horse to fetch a canteen of water.

“Oh, a miracle yes,” the old woman coughs out, “fate has blessed me after much burden.”

You work to clean her skin of dried blood and ash, offering her water to drink. “What can we do to help?”

“My walking stick, it is most important.” Her eyes stay closed shut in pain, as she gestures to the place you’ve pulled her from. Taehyung rummages around until he pulls an item from the wreckage, an impressive staff decorated with gold markings and a large green gem adorned at its apex.

The old woman offers Taehyung her gratitude, feeling much more at ease she opens her eyes to look at the pair of you. You stare into the old woman’s clouded grey eyes in surprise.

“Thank you child, but hurry, the rain will wash the flames away, but will halt your journey for the day.” Taehyung looks upwards at the old woman’s words, white clouds are traveling across the bright clear blue sky.

You can’t leave the blind woman alone after everything she’s been through. “If it’s going to rain, please let us take you to the next village for shelter.” She nods and walks staff in hand towards Taehyung’s horse.

“Only a bit further, we will make it before it rains,” the old blind woman promises. Sounds of thunder echo faintly in the background. The sun is no longer out, hidden behind dark grey storm clouds. You shiver and rub the exposed skin of your arms for comfort next to Taehyung as the two of you walk next to his horse. He grasps your hand and pulls you closer to him. He radiates warmth. You never know how to react to his kind gestures. You look up at him and meet his gaze, sending him a shy smile. He rubs his thumb on your knuckles, smiling brightly back. If his intentions were to make you warm, he succeeded, your heart feels full.

“This is a farming community. They are a kind people who serve Demeter, the two of you are safe here,” At the old woman’s declarations you and Taehyung look at each other, exchanging unspoken words.

“This is where our paths must diverge. If you continue to follow this road, you’ll find sanctuary for the night, I promise.” Taehyung helps the old blind woman down from his horse. “Thank you again, children. I don’t have anything to offer you in return for your help, but I can give you some words of wisdom.” She smiles kindly at you both.

The old blind woman still holds Taehyung’s hand in hers. She turns his palm upward, her fingers trace the lines of his hand. You watch her curiously. “Ahh, your soul holds so much talent, you’ll find it’s both a blessing and a curse.” You giggle, Taehyung shoots you a look, his lips curving into a half smile. “Ahh, you know of it already. In the future, you’ll have a great choice to make, I can’t choose for you, but as someone who's lived many years and knows how dreadful and gray the world can become, my advice is to choose the path of love.”

“Always,” Taehyung’s eyes cast a look over to you and you feel shy once more under his gaze.

She brings her hand to Taehyung’s face to pat his cheek. “Dear child, too beautiful for your own good. It won’t be easy for you, for either of you, this path before you. Hermes wings have found your heels, you won’t find much rest in this life.” She looks sympathetic as her head turns towards you.

“Much like the universe has brought you to me, I see destiny is not a stranger.” She smiles at you knowingly. You hold your breath as she reaches for your hand, studying your palm alongside Taehyung’s. “Your souls...they have been linked together. I see the red string of fate wrapped tightly around you both.”

You find yourself wanting to believe her. Her words seem heartfelt and true, and you can’t deny her strong aura despite her fragile appearance. You catch Taehyung’s eyes again. Has he been looking at you this entire time? She continues, “This bond you have is quite unbreakable, not even death can cut what tethers you together.” She studies your hand more carefully, “Ahh, peculiar...”

“Do you see something worrisome?” you ask, concerned.

“It is nothing to worry dear, you have much love that surrounds you. Let yourself love. There will be those who will try to keep you apart, but take it from an old old woman, love is a stronger force than even the gods can imagine. It glitters brighter than gold and gives you riches greater than Kings. In the end, you’ll find a way.”

You think of her words all night. You look over to your companion, he sleeps peacefully next to you. Do you love him? Is this love? Is he your destiny? You pray to Athena for answers, but only more questions arise in your mind.

You think to the day you first met him, the memory bringing a smile to your face. You left with him, in the end. It was you who found the courage to ask him to take you with him, on the premise of wanting to see the world while moving to another temple. You expected him to let you down gently, you remember his hesitation still, but instead he had not refused you, and you have been traveling with him ever since. Being with Taehyung filled the holes of loneliness that punctured your existence before meeting. Your world had been small, consisting only within the temple’s walls. Now your world feels infinite, it’s thrilling and terrifying, and at the center of it all is Taehyung, gentle and kind and sincere in his affection.

---

You are jostled from your sleep. Taehyung pulls you gently from your bed, his lips placing tender kisses across your forehead as he pulls you to your feet. “I’m sorry, we have to leave again.”

This is not the first time you've had to run, or the second or third. So you pack the things you cannot part with and say goodbye to the rest.

Taehyung, the beautiful poet with a voice that can capture any audience's attention, has always been able to afford you both a roof and a meal. Taehyung’s performances become the talk of whatever acropolis you find yourself in, and his fame grows until his looks and voice catch the attention of someone too important to ignore. Fame is a wonderful thing until it becomes too much, too demanding, and all too quickly can Taehyung’s admirers turn into attackers, vilifying his every action. When that happens he decides to run, and you follow. You worry if it goes on like this you’ll have no more places left to run to.

You liked this place the most, it pangs your heart to lose your home again, but you know your true home is in Taehyung’s arms. You pack as many mementos of this place as you can carry, and hold the rest of your memories close in your heart.

---

“Like this,” you pull your bow back and look to the trees ahead where three pheasants sit perched. You choose the biggest bird and aim your arrow. You make sure Taehyung is studying your form and then you let the arrow go. The bird squawks sharply before falling to the ground, and the others scatter to the sky.

“See!” you laugh at Taehyung’s astonished face.

“How are you so much better at this than me?” The poet whines as you hand him back his bow and arrow. You laugh again. You and Taehyung have been learning to survive by yourselves through trial and error, more error than not. You’ve never had to hunt for food before, but you quickly found yourself skilled, and you think it’s quite fun. At least when you’re not starving, stomach already full from fresh berries Taehyung had picked for you to share. He had picked you flowers as well. They sit in your hair in an intricate pattern after you complained to him you couldn’t eat flowers. You slowly remove the arrow bag from around your neck, so as not to ruin the halo he so carefully crafted.

“I caught it, so you cook it,” you tease.

He brings your hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “That, my fair maiden, I can do!”

---

It is late and Taehyung has not arrived home. His performance should have been done hours ago. You try not to let your thoughts wander into the dark depths of your worst fears as you settle into a restless unease. Your home is quiet and still, too quiet. You keep your ears focused as you wander around the house.

It goes from quiet to chaos too quickly, you hear shouting in the distance. A hand grabs your mouth before you can scream, you start to kick but strong arms hold you tightly. Taehyung shushes you as he pulls you to the back entrance of your home.

You’re running into the woods with the poet, he pulls you to the ground and holds you beneath him. From the bushes you watch men with swords circle your house. You feel violated as you watch them enter your home. Crashes inside make you flinch in Taehyung's arms. “We’ll go back to fetch our things once they leave,” he shushes you.

The soft warm glow of your house becomes bright, light filling up the night sky as a fire breaks out and the men continue to destroy your home. Taehyung covers your mouth to stifle your cries and holds you close to him, whispering countless apologies. You can only whimper in his arms, your shoulders shake in grief as you watch everything you own go up in flames.

When you first came to this place, you and Taehyung stood out too much for the villagers' liking. You were strangers, you didn’t look like them, and they targeted you constantly for the pettiest of things. But this area was remote so you endured their hateful ways. It didn’t help matters when Taehyung, a much better singer than the locals before him, was offered an audience with the region’s King. Taehyung never made an appearance, letting other singers he befriended attend in his place, hoping to gain some favor with the locals, but it only angered the King. Feeling insulted, he killed the poets. And now, with enemies at both ends, and anger consuming the villagers, Ares wrath scorched your home to the ground.

You’re quiet next to Taehyung. Your feet ache from walking. No horse, no food in days. It’s nightfall and cold, you wear his cloak and shiver still. You walk beside the poet, but he feels oceans away. His usual bright eyes are dull and full of sorrow. You didn’t realize how accustomed you were to his touch until he had stopped. Your body aches to be in his arms, to hold his hand while you walk. You feel loneliness twist around you instead.

It is Taehyung who breaks the silence. He speaks softly, “There is a famous temple of Athena in this city, hopefully we can convince them to let you stay.”

The idea revolts you, pulling at the pit of your stomach. The thought of going back to your old ways, as if it would be a reprieve or something you missed, makes you nauseated.

“No.”

“I thought it would be enough...I-I was naive. I’m truly cursed. I can sing all about love, paint beautiful stories of love’s triumph, but when I cannot give you anything else but my devotion, it’s not enough. I can’t stand to watch you wither away in front of me. You deserve more.”

“The oracle said-”

“What kind of life is this for you?” He stops walking, his voice breaks in his anguish. “I-I’m sorry. I should have never taken you away from safety into this reckless existence. This should have been my burden alone.” Tears fall down his face as he shudders. You reach for him, cup his face in your hands. How can you make him see he’s all you want? He lets you wipe away his tears. You pull his head down to meet yours.

“What kind of life is this? The best life I’ve ever could have wished for. A life full of love. I’d trade everything I have for you.” You brush your lips against his, it stops his tears. His eyes fill with adoration, a blazing intensity that makes your heartbeat quicken.

“Stop this worrying, let’s go.” You grab his hand and pull him along. The silence hangs heavy in the air, the stillness of the night frightens you.

“Sing me a song please.”

“From now on I’ll only sing for you.” Taehyung says his words quietly, but his resolve thunders to the heavens, shaking the course of your lives.

The light of day shines through your open window, it illuminates the thin white fabric pulled over your head and wakes you. The white cloth flitters in the breeze of your bedroom and you catch a peak of the handsome man lying next to you. His dark warm eyes are already open as he watches you stretch your sleepiness away. He lifts his head, pulling the sheet higher, so he can get a better look at you, “Good morning, my beloved.”

Taehyung’s dark hair and tan skin against the glowing white backdrop of your bed sheets makes him look ethereal. You watch him in awe, “Good morning, dear husband.”

Your body feels heavy and rested. Your bare skin is warm against his and the sun heated sheet, the soft fabric pulls over your bodies, everything is so soft and warm.

Taehyung buries his head in your chest, smiling against your skin. “I love you.”

Your fingers play with the curls of his hair. “And I love you.”

Underneath the covers, you create your own little world, away from the responsibilities of your lives, the expectations of the day.

Taehyung runs his lips across your naked chest, kissing, licking, biting all over your body. You giggle at his playful teasing touches. “You’re perfection, so soft and pretty.” He captures your lips in a kiss, moving his mouth against yours slowly as his body rests between your legs. His hands find your waist and pull at your skin as he explores your mouth with his tongue, swallowing your moans.

Your legs wrap around his torso, you can feel him growing against your slick core. Taehyung's fingers find yours and he intertwines them together, pulling your arms above your head. He nibbles on the sensitive skin below your jaw.

“You smell so good,” he moans, “you taste so good.” His low baritone voice sends shivers down your body. You whimper, breathless from his caresses. He thrusts in slowly, rolling his body into you, slow and steady until you’re both feverish from mounting pleasure. “What do you want, my love?”

“Just you, please, I want all of you.”

He rolls you over so your body is on top of him. “You have me forever. Now show me how much you want me.” Your playful lover bites his lower lip, pulling on your hips to make you move against him. Your body moves up and down his length, Taehyung’s moans and devastating lustful looks spur you on to please him.

You roll your hips faster, so close to release. Taehyung notices your frenzied state and grabs your hips to hold you still, thrusting up into you instead. His hard length fills you up so deliciously. His grip on you is searing yet soft, you focus on his body below you, his tight muscles and golden skin. “I-I’m close.”

“Touch yourself for me.”

The room fills with sinful noises as your bodies converge again and again and you cry out in euphoria. Taehyung stills inside you as you reach your high, mesmerized by the way your body twist in pleasure in his arms.

Taehyung lays your trembling body down against the soft sheets of your bed, grinding his hips into you as you continue to pulse around him. “Eyes open, look at me my love.”

You struggle with his command, but hold his gaze as best you can, his physique shines with sweat and his hungry eyes roam over your spent body, the erotic way he looks at you ignites the desire in between your legs once again.

He’s so close to release. Taehyung quickens his pace, making you tighten around him, senses overloaded. You moan, encouraging him to keep going.

“You’ll let me fill you up? Have my baby?” His long fingers find your sensitive nub, applying pressure and making you cry out.

“Y-yes!” You can only feel blinding pleasure as Taehyung thrusts into you deeper.

“How beautiful you’ll be, glowing and pregnant with my baby growing inside of you.” He groans. Your stomach tightens as his cock swells, pressure filling you before you feel yourself snapping again. Taehyung’s own release following, your tightness too much for him to handle.

You hold him close to you as you both work to steady your breathing, “We have to start baking soon,” you softly remind him, “before the market opens.”

Taehyung cuddles closer to you, “It’s okay, they’ll wait for my bread, it is the best in the city.” He grins, kneading at your breasts with his large hands. You laugh, relaxing into his embrace.

“Okay okay, we’ll stay a bit longer.”

Your children gather around you in prayer. You take in a ragged breath. Your bedridden aging body feels heavy. Soft light begins to cloud the edges of your vision as you listen to the wistful voices of your sons and daughters shower you with love. Taehyung's fingers brush against your wrinkled digits.

“My beautiful wife, how I missed you.”

You call out his name. Your eldest daughter soothes you, brushing her hand over your forehead. You thought you would be afraid once teetering on the edge of your own mortality, but with him here, holding you again, fear is unable to reach you. You’re already so full of love.

Taehyung comes into your focus, still beautiful in his old age, still the gentle man you love, he places a feather light kiss on your temple. Relief washes through you, the currents pull the burdens on your soul away, and you feel light, floating between worlds.

“I’ve waited for you,” Taehyung’s deep voice fills your mind, “Are you ready to travel with me again?” You know your answer, innate as the love you felt when you first met him.

You take one final breath, letting go and following Taehyung again.

---

Your eyes flutter open. You’re lying face down on the hotel bed. As your eyes begin to focus, you are met with the singer’s face next to yours. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads.

“What happened?” you whisper.

“I don’t know, I think we passed out, I woke up right before you opened your eyes.”

He looks at you, still beaming, a boxy smile plastered on his face. You try not to smile back. He shouldn’t be this happy!

“That wasn’t bad. You made it sound bad.” he pouts.

You hum, looking at your still intertwined fingers. You study the smooth skin of your hands, the wrinkles and veins you’d seen now only a fleeting memory. You feel tired.

Taehyung feels like he’s just woken up from a long dream. Memories of last night feel far away, more distant than memories presumably lived centuries ago. He focuses on the only constant, you.

“Do you regret it?”

You let out a deep exhale, you move your hand to trace his cheek, his nose, his eyebrow; he watches you quietly. You flick him on the forehead.

Taehyung yelps, looking quite betrayed by your actions. You smile, and his expression switches easily back to happiness. “It’s okay, you don’t have to admit I’m right,” he teases.

You let out a huff, “Doesn’t it bother you? It should bother you! Why is this happening...it’s exhausting...”

Taehyung wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to his body. “I don’t care why,” he mumbles into your hair. Your breath catches in your throat as he cuddles closer to you.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your heart pounds. You try to stay calm. “No,” you whisper.

His arms tighten around your frame. His warmth envelopes you, it feels like there’s fire inside you, burning down all your apprehensions.

“So this is how it feels. I thought I understood Jungkook. But this is....” you feel his body vibrate as he laughs to himself. “It’s not something you can put into words, right? I understand what he means, about not wanting to let you go.”

Closing your eyes you can picture yourself being in a different place, a different land, another time, you let yourself relax into Taehyung’s embrace. You can feel his hands caress your body, his long fingers travel to the back of your neck and down your spine and the curve of your back.

“I know I’ve never hugged you, but it feels like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Like you belong with me.” His voice is low in your ears. You try to ignore how you feel, how true his words are, but you can't.

“Right? At least admit that to me, y/n.” He whispers. His fingers dig into your skin as he pulls you even closer.

“Hm?”

“You belong with me.”

“I-” A knock on your door makes you break away from him. Taehyung flops on his back, sighing. You open the door to the youngest and oldest members smiling at you.

“Good morning!” You internally wince at your unusually high voice. Jungkook looks over your shoulder, noticing movement inside your room. He sees Taehyung sitting cross legged on your bed, leaning back on his palms with a grin on his face. Jungkook’s doe eyes go wide as his head turns slowly over to the eldest, who then mirrors his expression. Their surprised faces would be comical to you if you didn’t feel responsible for their reactions.

Everyone’s silence is making your stomach twist into knots. You clear your throat. “I touched his hand, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Unable to meet their eyes, you feel the need to add, “That’s all that happened. So...okay, let’s go!”

---

Everyone is sitting in the penthouse, around the coffee table filled with plates piled high with different breakfast foods. Some are sitting on the floor, some on the couch with plates in their laps. Jin ushers you next to an open spot next to J-Hope and sits on your other side. Taehyung and Jungkook have been quietly talking behind you and find seats in the empty gaps.

“The food here is really good,” Hoseok says in between bites as Jin serves you a plate. He smiles brightly at you. Hoseok wishes he wasn't so apprehensive with you. He aches to get to know you, learn all your quirks, learn about your childhood and what makes you happy so he can shower you with more of it; and what makes you sad so he can make sure you never experience it again. But he's too scared, Hoseok feels too much guilt.

His hair is messy and sticking up in weird angles, you resist the urge to fix it. ‘Just keep your hands to yourself, y/n. He’s not your friend,’ you chant in your head. You look around at the men, cozy and warm in their group. You realize how much of an outsider you are.

“Here,” Jin places a triangle of sweet toast on your already overflowing plate. You eat quietly while the members talk to themselves and check their phones. It feels nice, like a big family dinner on the holidays. You watch Hoseok take a selfie with his phone, a minute later you feel your phone vibrate with a notification.

“You posted to twitter just now?” Hoseok notices the panic in your voice as you magnify the picture to make sure there’s no item or reflection that might incriminate you.

“Err yes, why?” he scoots closer to you to see what you’re doing.

“I just-didn’t think it was that easy.” You scroll quickly through your timeline now that you’ve made sure you’re safe, Jin and Hoseok both moving in your space to stare at your phone much to your dismay and you think it’s time to put it away after the third photo of Namjoon’s toned arms pop up on your feed.

After stuffing yourselves full, the time has come to address the elephant in the room. The members take turns reliving the moments of last night, and in Taehyung’s case this morning, explaining everything so the group could all remain on the same page.

Namjoon should have been upset, once Taehyung shocked the rest of the group by speaking, but being in the same predicament himself, he was not surprised to learn Taehyung sought you out, he had barely slept toying with the idea himself.

You don’t talk much, just confirm certain details. You noticed how the men glossed over the most tragic parts of your visions, and you don’t care to interject. You learned new things as well...

Jimin finding his way back to your farm, only to find it destroyed and you gone, and unable to live with himself after that. You can’t meet each other's eyes when you tell him your own version of events.

Jin wanted to propose, he had picked out a ring, a bright blue gem like the ocean.

Taehyung had convinced you he stopped singing as a bard because he grew to hate it, but he confessed, to your suspicion, that wasn’t the case at all. He promised you he never once regretted his decision.

Hoseok took the job as a DJ because when you were younger you were obsessed with your local station, swooning over the DJ's voice and always calling in to win contests for you and Hoseok. He always had an affinity for music, but mostly he did it for you, to impress you.

Yoongi almost didn’t admit he had never really left your side, how he never stopped protecting you. That had shocked you the most. Your heart screams to comfort him, to comfort all of them.

Jungkook excitedly tells you everything he had planned for your escape, he used his life’s savings to find you and him a new home far away. He tells you how if you both had succeeded you would have been so happy with him.

It felt weird. All these lives inside you itching to burst through, you didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You meet the idol’s eyes sitting next to you, and when he looks at you so tenderly, you wonder who he really sees.

“Yoongi’s life was the coolest.” The quiet rapper keeps his head down, only nodding in acknowledgement at Jimin’s comment.

“Well I liked mine,” Taehyung declares. “Which one was your favorite, y/n?”

“I’m not answering that,” you mutter, growing hot under the sudden attention.

“Hmm I don’t see a connection.” Namjoon hums. “Apart from y/n.”

“Should there be one?”

“I’m assuming nothing strange like this has ever happened to you before?” Namjoon turns to you. You shake your head. “Have you ever had dreams, um, of us?”

“No! I mean-what? No.” You pull the neck of Jungkook’s hoodie over your mouth to hide your embarrassment, with no intention on admitting anything. What does dreaming have to do with this?

Namjoon stays silent in thought. Should he tell the group now?

“I should probably go now.” It’s no longer morning after talking for so long. You have a life to go back to; chores, work. You hope being back in your home will make you feel more like the old you, before everything you thought you knew was turned upside down.

Jungkook stands up, “Why!”

“I have work in the morning? Not everyone is a famous world class musician,” You try to keep your tone light, but you’re bothered.

His lips press into a tight line. “I know, just…”

You have responsibilities, a job to go to tomorrow, you don’t want to entertain the wild fantasies arising in your mind at the way he looks at you so pleadingly to stay. “I can’t stay here all day.” You stand up as well, the members’ eyes dart back and forth between you and Jungkook, like they were watching fighters in a match.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Jungkook blurts out.

You close your eyes and rub at your temples. It’s becoming too hard, to keep pushing these feelings away, you cannot allow yourself to feel things for these men. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. What do you want from me?”

Jungkook speaks louder, “Do you not want to be with me?”

“I’m-that’s not-it’s not that simple. You don’t even know me! Do you want to be with me-”

“Yes.”

You let out an incredulous laugh and look around the room, but the men look starkly serious. You focus on the youngest again, raising your voice so everyone can hear you clearly. “I’m a nobody. You don’t know me. Name one thing you know about me other than my name...name my favorite color! If you can name my favorite color I’ll sta-”

Jungkook names your favorite color. His eyes piercing through you. Your breath catches in your throat.

‘How did he-wait...was it her favorite color too?’ Tears well up in your eyes. “...I’m not her.”

Jungkook winces at your words, “You’re right, I don’t know who you are right now. But you are...I know you are...the woman I fell in love with. What are you so afraid of?”

You look down at the ground to your feet. You can only shake your head at him and keep your mouth shut so you don’t start crying in front of them. You feel a hand wrap around yours and you already know who it is. You yank your hand away. If Yoongi is hurt, he doesn’t show it to you.

“I’m sorry, I know my life is difficult, that I’m a ‘famous musician,’ but isn’t it better than a poor stable worker? Can’t you see how meeting you again, this might be, maybe...fate?”

A pained laugh escapes your throat, letting go of the pressure you built up in your forced silence. “Oh my god. This is not happening.” Yes, maybe you can finally admit what happened was real, but what does that change? It’s not like you can run away with him in this life either, the entire world recognizes him now.

Your hands hold your head, your nails dig into your skin to concentrate on anything other than Jungkook’s continuing pleas. It’s just laughable to think this idol is begging you to stay with him. A sick thought invades your mind that maybe you’re doomed to repeat your transgressions. The memory of his bleeding body flashes in your mind, you’re not meant to be with them, how could you be? They’re the most famous singers in the world, yeah, you are afraid.

Jimin tries to calm down the youngest, “Kookie, you can’t force her to stay here…”

Jungkook is beside himself. He feels you slipping through his fingers again, away from him and even if it’s different now, it feels too sickeningly similar.

“Hyung please, you’ve been with non-idols, please talk to her...please!” Jungkook is crying, begging Jin.

A strangled sob escapes your throat at his cries. Hoseok rushes over to you, but you scramble away from his touch. You know you’ll break the second you let him comfort you.

Jin’s heart is breaking; for Jungkook, for you, for himself. He doesn’t know what to say, he’s just afraid as Jungkook of letting you go. Finally Namjoon decides to take control of the situation, the only one with a clear head. “Everyone leave. Now. Y/n deserves her space, and we still have four more days left in this city. Alright go!” The boys pull each other away, holding onto each other for strength, trusting their leader.

Yoongi pats a crying Jungkook on the back, “It’s okay, Joon will convince her.”

---

Your eyes hurt from crying, puffy and dark. You feel pathetic. Your head is pounding, you lean against the car window as you watch the blur of the city go past.

“Here.” Namjoon sits across from you, leaving the middle seat open. He hands you a cell phone.

You hold the sleek new model in your hand, “What is this?”

“It’s a hand phone,” the idol says teasingly.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh. “What is this for?”

“For you, to contact us.” Namjoon shrugs, “If you want to.” You sit in silence as his driver takes you home.

“You haven’t asked to touch my hand. Do you not want to?” You ask, sneaking a glance at the rapper.

“Of course I want to,” he speaks softly. “It’s all I’ve thought about since I saw you. But you’ve gone through a lot. I’ll let you decide if it’s something you want to do, and when you’re ready I’ll be here.”

You bite your lip. “For four more days.”

Namjoon smiles, his dimples on display. “Yes, I’m guessing you didn’t get tickets for the next city?”

“No, I wish. Those fanmeet tickets weren’t exactly cheap.”

Namjoon chuckles softly, “Ahh sorry.”

“Well, I did get a free breakfast with BTS, lucky me,” you hum. He nods, his eyes cast down. You hope he didn’t catch any bitterness in your tone, under any circumstance you would be dying of happiness.

You let the silence envelope you again, as you start to recognize the streets, you’re getting closer to home and to being left alone. You sigh, running your hands over your face, “Oh god, this is a mess.”

“I don’t think it is. I think there’s a reason for everything. And I think there’s a reason why this happened to you. To all of us.”

“What could that reason be?” You ask him genuinely, maybe the genius idol sees something you don’t.

“I don’t know. I do know it’s lonely being an idol. It’s hard to love, to find someone to love you and not break under the constant pressure.”

“I don’t know if I can be that person.”

“Well to me, it sounds like you’ve already been that person.” You want to scoff, but the sincere look in his eyes makes you stop. The GPS signals your arrival home.

The air is heavy as you gather up the strength to leave, “I will message you later, I promise. Just give me some time.”

You watch the expensive van leave your entrance. You couldn’t see through the dark tinted windows, but you had a feeling the idol was watching you, so you held yourself together and waved goodbye.

---

You know you should have just gone inside your home, but you had something to do first, it was driving you mad not knowing. So now you stand in front of a door that’s not your own still in clothes that are not your own. You send a text of your arrival and knock.

“Hi!” You pretend you aren’t exhausted, “I just have to try something-”

He looks at you dumbfounded as you grab his hand and start shaking it. Nothing. ‘Of course, just wonderful.’ You switch to two hands, shaking more forcefully.

“What’s going on...” his voice is shaky from the intense movements of your greeting. ‘Why is nothing happening, why is it only them, Ugh, why!’

“Earth to y/n...” why why why why.

He grabs your arms to stop your movements “Hey, are you okay? You never responded to my calls, I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you look into his concerned eyes. It feels like eons ago, whatever budding feelings you had for him. Why.

“Do you want to come in?”

“No, I better go.”

“You came all the way over here and you don’t want to tell me how last night went? You meet BTS and now you’re acting all crazy! You didn’t decide to leave me for one of them, did you?” your friend jokes.

“Ah ha aha…”

He raises his eyebrow at you. “I have work tomorrow...I just wanted to see you.” It’s the truth, you’re not lying. “I’m sorry for not responding last night. I’ll see you later?”

He gives you a kiss goodbye. ‘Oh no.’ It all feels so wrong.

---

The first day, you send Jungkook an apology. He sends you a ton of voice memos and selfies, just happy to talk to you again. You respond with light replies, trying not to dig your hole any deeper.

The second day, that night you break down. You send all the boys a simple “hi”. Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Namjoon all respond. They send messages about their day. Jin sends you a picture of his food. Yoongi says he misses you. Against your better judgement you tell him you miss him too. Suspiciously, after your reply Jungkook and Taehyung message that they miss you seconds apart from one another. You tell them you miss them too, when Taehyung says he wants to see you, you’re too scared to respond.

The third day you stay busy with work. Hoseok sends you a picture of the sunset, his first message to you, nothing else. You wait until the night comes and send a picture of the moon from your window, and ‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams.’

The fourth day the pressure becomes too much. You hover over the call button all day but you can’t do it. By dinner time, you get a call from Jungkook. You try to swallow down the tears you’ve cried all day and sound cheerful when you answer.

“I just wanted to call before we get on the plane,” he says.

‘It’s too late. No.’ you think. “I’m sorry, tell Namjoon I’m so sorry. I should have seen him before you all left, I should have...”

“Don’t worry y/n. No one blames you.”

“That doesn’t mean what I did was okay. I wanted to see you all again.”

“You did?” The way his voice becomes more cheerful tugs at your heart. “You can make it up to us by talking more. Can I video chat with you later?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, got to go...Bye Beautiful.” He sounds like he’s in a much better mood, you can hear the teasing lilt to his words.

Weeks go by. You keep your promise. It’s easier communicating through the screen of your phone. You can imagine them to be online friends, people who are not famous. Some conversations stay light, some become deeper. They pry information from your life, learning more and more about you, and you feel yourself getting attached to their morning greetings and late night calls. Meanwhile, with family and friends you try to act like everything is normal, keeping this weird new world hidden, but you’re still constantly haunted by your memories with them. Your past lives play through your mind all day long and replace your dreams. Everything else felt so wrong now, so not you anymore, so gray. You feel like a bad friend, a bad daughter, a cheater.

---

Namjoon wakes up, groaning, his body still heavy from sleep. He quickly changes into a pair of slacks and a button down shirt. He chooses a forest green vest to wear, like the plants in his room. He runs pomade in his hair before heading downstairs to get ready for the morning.

He unlocks the door to his bookstore, before he can turn around the door opens with a loud ding. You walk in and make a beeline to the center table. Namjoon laughs, “Back so soon?”

“Of course, I’m so bored! My crops won’t be harvestable for another couple of months. Any other recommendations? I loved your last one.” You smile brightly at the bookstore owner, he’s always so kind to you and doesn’t make you feel like an outsider when you visit. If you could, you would spend all day in his store, talking about the latest novels and picking each other's brains. “Before I forget! For you...” You hand him two jars of homemade jam.

You're his favorite customer. And if Namjoon is being honest, he has a crush on you. He pulls a book from high above a shelf, a pristine copy. “This one, it should keep you busy.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in the large leather bound novel, gold letters adorning it’s spine. “How much?”

“Don’t worry, this one time I’ll take jam as payment.”

“No, that was a present,” you pout.

“Well, then this is a present for you.”

“Sir, if you don’t let me pay, I will throw a fit! I need you to stay in business.” It’s always like this with him, you’ll be damned if he doesn’t let you show him how much you appreciate him.

Namjoon laughs, “Alright alright. Then promise me you’ll come visit as soon as you finish.”

You nod, holding your new purchase close to your heart. He watches you leave, his eyes lingering on your body. You hold onto his book like a prized trophy. It’s another thing he loves about you, the way you treat things with so much care. His eyes still linger on you as you stand outside his shop. He sees a stranger run into you, you stumble back and almost fall, he rushes to the door to help you but stops in his tracks as the man's face comes into focus. “Jimin?”

Namjoon wakes up startled. He runs his hands through his hair, disturbed at what he saw. He’s covered in sweat, inside the cold room of his bedroom. Every night he’s had dreams of you, but this one was different. Should he go talk to someone about it? Who would believe him? He feels like every day he’s slowly getting closer to losing his mind. Today is going to be a long day full of press junkets. He rubs at his eyes trying to forget what he saw, what he felt.

---

Today you decide to call Namjoon. Usually, you’ll wait until one of the members decides to call you, but you had to talk to him before you lost your nerve. He picks up on the second ring. “Hey, I can’t talk for that long, is everything okay?” you can hear how busy it is in the background.

“No it’s my fault! I’m sorry, I’m an idiot, of course you would be busy. Call me when you’re free.”

“No! I have some time, we can talk.” You hear him shuffling to a quieter location.

Are you going to regret this? You take a deep breath. “I want to see you again. I-I don’t want to forget about what happened and go back to my life like everything is normal when it's not. You were right. I’m sorry...I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.” You wait for Namjoon’s response, the silence fills you with anxiety. You would completely understand if he brushes you off now.

“I’ll figure something out. Okay y/n?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

“See you.”

That night Namjoon sends you a series of text messages with instructions. Your eyes go wide over the new information. You look around your home, you know you should feel some sadness, but only excitement bubbles inside you. ‘I guess this is it.’ How are you going to explain this to your family and friends, to your boyfriend? A special internship in South Korea, you guess is how you’ll start.

---Three Months Later---

Namjoon splashes cold water on his face, he looks up into his bathroom mirror and blinks at his reflection. Namjoon’s eyes are not his.

Namjoon wakes up yelling. He falls back into bed, catching his breath. He checks the time. You should be on the plane right now. The idol rapper has always appreciated the wealth he’s accumulated over the years, but he feels especially grateful in this moment, now that he has found himself in a position of power large enough to secure you with a translation job within his own company.

---

A man holds a sign with your name on it. You walk towards him, your suitcase ticking on the airport concrete as it rolls on the ground behind you. You spent the last three months preparing for this, studying over language books every night and saying goodbye to family and friends. Your parents didn’t understand your sudden change of career, but you promised them the pay was better and it wouldn’t be forever. Your boyfriend was not so understanding, especially when you wouldn’t give him any details as to why you’re leaving the county. You and him weren’t even that serious to begin with but the breakup was messy.

You followed the driver’s instructions once he dropped you off in front of a very posh looking complex, entering key codes, up the elevator, down the hall, until you stood in front of the correct numbered door. You use the key he gave you to unlock the large door and walk into a massive apartment. Every member is already inside, waiting for you. You feel relief wash over you, you can’t help but smile at the group. They cheer at your arrival, you notice balloons and a makeshift welcome sign. The mood is definitely much more relaxed from the last time you all gathered together.

“Is this your place?” You ask as Jungkook takes your suitcase.

“No, this is your apartment.”

Your eyes go wide, “This is way too big!”

Taehyung jumps up and gives you a hug. The months you talked made you feel much more comfortable around them, but you still weren’t prepared for the rush of emotions that filled you once in his embrace again.

“It’s the smallest unit in this building,” Yoongi lets you know.

“And I’m guessing I can’t go to another building.”

“Our dorm is in this one,” The youngest member explains.

“How…” You take a deep breath, eyeing Jungkook up and down, “...convenient.” You take a seat with them on the ridiculously huge couch, next to Yoongi and Jin.

You sigh, stretching your sore jet lagged muscles. “Need to go to the bathroom?” Yoongi whispers at you teasingly.

You snort, his words taking you out of your worries. “Funny,” you mutter.

The eldest helps you fill out a stack of forms for your employment while the rest set plates of takeout on the living room table. You eat your first meal in Korea together. Sitting together, laughing together, you feel better than you have in months. It’s that feeling you get when you’ve finally completed a puzzle, placing the last piece in its place. You feel complete.

Taehyung’s words pull you from your thoughts.

“So y/n, when are you gonna hold Joon’s hand?”

“Oh, um…”

“You came all the way to Korea for him, right!” Taehyung teases.

“She doesn’t have to...” Namjoon murmurs.

“Oh c’mon! You can’t tell me you haven’t been going crazy waiting!”

“Yeah, I agree with Tae!” Jimin laughs.

“Do it!” Jungkook cheers.

“Do it! Do it! Do it!” The youngest members are chanting at the pair of you. You feel the heat rise in your face. You had planned on it, you wanted to find a way to get Namjoon alone, but now with all the attention on you, you feel apprehensive. You look over to Namjoon who looks equally as embarrassed. ‘I don’t want to do this,’ the thought screams in your head.

It has been months, Namjoon has waited for this moment. Now that he’s being put on the spot, he’s apprehensive. Ever since his bandmates touched you, they have acted differently, it might not be noticeable to anyone around them, but Namjoon noticed. Would he change too? Before he can yell at his bandmates, you stand up and walk over to his seat. “They aren’t going to stop,” You whisper, holding out your hand. He sighs and stands up.

“So?” Jin asks when he notices the lack of reaction from both of you as you grip each other's hands.

“Um, nothing is happening.” You stare at the rapper, but his attention is on the place where your hands meet, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“This doesn’t make sense..” He starts shaking your hand up and down as if that might help, it reminds you of the night he dropped you off, and you know exactly how he feels.

“Maybe it’s because I’m jet lagged or something? We could try again later...” you try to soothe the rapper but you can tell he is growing more and more upset with each passing moment, and your arm feels like it's going to dislodge from your shoulder the more he shakes.

The members have all gone silent.

“Maybe you don’t have a past life together?” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder to stop his movements. No one expected this.

“No, that’s not-we have to-I know it!” Namjoon tries to stay calm but his voice is full of panic.

“Maybe it had something to do with that time, the planets aligning or something?” Jimin says. Is this your fault? Because you were too scared. What have you done? You’re rethinking everything now, you shouldn’t have come here.

“No.” Namjoon is right, he knows it, “that’s not it...” It doesn’t make sense, he knows there’s a connection between you and him. He lets the confession tumble out of his mouth before he can properly think. “Your name, I knew it! How would I know your name?”

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?”

Namjoon bites his tongue. He lets go of you. He blinks his eyes to get rid of tears threatening to spill. The mood is gone and everyone is silent. You feel horrible. Somehow this is your fault, you know it.

“Joon...” The eldest member calls out to him.

“I-I need some air.” Namjoon breaks away from the group.

“Wait!”

---

OOOOooo you had a whole ass boyfriend and you went and tongued Yoongi, scandalous. Looks like poor Joonie got the spiritual cockblock. Should I explain myself lol or do you like drawing your own conclusions?

Oh! Fun fact, the two sentences were this: Your eyes flutter open, you’re lying face down on the hotel bed. Taehyung is lying on his back next to you, grinning from ear to ear, your fingers are still interlocked by your heads. That’s what I had to go on T_T hah. Anyways let me know what you think <3

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,067 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison Warnings: mentions of anxiety, language Summary: Y/N falls ill on a run and Daryl worries about what's wrong.

Your name: submit What is this?

You leaned back against the chain link fence as Daryl pulled out the bolt cutters and cut the chain around the gate. “Okay. Umm… canned pears,” you said, glancing over at the archer. He peered up at you through his curtain of wavy brown hair.

“Pears? Nah. Peaches.”

You straightened up as he heaved the gate open. “I prefer pears.”

“Canned pears are disgusting,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine! If we find some, more for me!” you said. He slung his crossbow back over his shoulder in a well-practiced habit and started to lead the way toward the building. You followed just slightly behind him, fingering the hilt of your knife.

When you reached the small loading dock, Daryl gave you a serious glance and set down his duffel bag. He pulled the bolt cutters out again. You nodded and he banged them harshly on the closed overhead door. You both strained your hearing after the metal rattling ceased. Nothing. It was silent. You grinned at him.

“Well, that’s good news,” you said, relaxing slightly.

“There could still be some in there stuck somewhere. Don’t let your guard down,” he said, clipping the lock off the mechanism keeping the door shut.

“You know I don’t let my guard down,” you countered.

“Mmm,” he hummed, focused on the task at hand. He replaced the bolt cutters in the duffel and checked the magazine of his pistol before sliding it back into the holster at his side.

“French-cut green beans,” you said suddenly.

His blue eyes shot back up to your face. “Green beans?” he repeated. “And what the hell does ‘French-cut’ mean?”

You laughed. “They’re, like, thin sliced lengthwise. Julienne cut.”

Daryl just kept staring at you like you were nuts. “Juli-what? Green beans,” he said again. You grinned. “I love canned green beans! Maybe even more than fresh ones… although I don’t think that’s true anymore since you can’t find fresh anything these days…”

He let out a scoff of a laugh and shook his head, turning back to his crossbow and fitting a bolt into the flight groove. “Yer nuts, ya know that?”

“You like it,” you said, lifting your boot and poking the toe into his butt. It elicited the exact response you wanted, which was a look he meant to be stern, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave away his mutual amusement.

“Sometimes,” he said, straightening up.

“Well, what are you hoping we find in there? Besides canned peaches.”

He shrugged. “I dunno.” He reached for the door latch, getting ready to heave it open.

Your hand shot out and landed on his arm, stopping him. “Nuh uh! That’s not a good answer!”

He sighed, taking in your insistent and expectant expression. “How ‘bout a giant jar of garlic dill pickles?”

You nodded, pleased with his answer. “Much better. Okay. Ready,” you said, unsheathing your knife. Daryl took in the playful light that lingered in your eyes as you readied yourself for whatever you were about to find inside.

He heaved the overhead door open and the two of you stepped into the dim shipment receiving area, shoulder to shoulder. You both clicked on your flashlights and swept them over the room. Daryl led the way to a door in the far wall. “Bet this goes to the storage area,” he said quietly. You nodded, a little anxious, shifting your weight from one hip to the other.

Daryl knocked loudly on the door and again you both strained your hearing, listening for the tell-tale moaning and clawing of the dead. It was intensely quiet. You and Daryl exchanged a look and he reached for the door handle. You gave him a nod and he pushed into the next room.

You were hoping to find the stock of emergency supplies that had been put together shortly before the outbreak became all-consuming. They were to be sent as hurricane relief. But instead of the hoped-for stockpile, you found a mostly empty stockroom instead.

“Shit.” You stepped farther inside and kicked at a piece of discarded shrink wrap on the floor. “I guess someone else heard the same tip we did,” you said, shining your light over the empty shelves.

“Mmm. Or got real damn lucky,” Daryl said, his crossbow still raised. His light illuminating a nearby doorway into the main store area. “C’mon. Let’s just check out here.”

You followed behind him with your flashlight up and you hadn’t moved too far into the room before a wall of horrendous odor hit you. “Oh my God,” you said, pressing a hand over your nose and mouth.

Daryl’s light landed on the decomposing scattered bodies of walkers. “Somebody cleared the place out,” he said, crouching down to look at the inflicted wounds. “They’re all shot.”

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured, gagging at the smell. You doubled over and heaved a few breaths, struggling to stop the bile that was suddenly churning in your stomach.

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder, climbing to his feet when he saw how pale you looked. There were beads of sweat across your forehead. “Ya alright?” he asked, rushing over to you, overwhelmed with concern. He gently rubbed your back.

You were afraid if you spoke you were going to vomit so you waved a hand at him and did your best to steel yourself. When you felt like you could talk, you tried to straighten up. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really. It’s just the smell—Ugh, it hit me hard. I think I just need some air…”

Daryl was staring at you with a deeply furrowed brow. “Ya sure?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” You felt another wave of nausea and shut your eyes against it. “I’ll be outside… Just finish looking around in here and I’ll—I’ll meet you out back,” you said. Daryl sweetly grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You met his blue eyes and saw they were darkened with concern. “I’m okay.”

The archer watched you retreat out into the fresh air, puzzled over the situation. He’d never seen you react to the smell of rotting bodies or gore that way. Hell, he’d seen you open up a walker’s stomach to check for meal contents. He’d seen you put down countless numbers of dead ones with an unhesitating knife to the skull. Just then he heard the unmistakable sound of you retching outside.

“Y/N?” He rushed outside to see you doubled over on the pavement a short distance from the door.

You straightened up at the sound of his bootsteps, your knees feeling a little shaky.

“You’re sick,” he said, a shadow growing on his face. “We gotta go. Get ya home.”

You looked miserable. “It’s just a stomach thing. It’s not a big deal,” you said, pulling out your water and rinsing out your mouth.

“Maybe it’s somethin’ ya ate. What’d ya have this mornin’?” he asked with anxiety.

You shook your head. “Can’t be that.”

“Food poisonin’? Why not?”

“Because I didn’t have anything,” you said, shoving your canteen back in your bag. “Did you finish up in there?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, but don’t matter. I’m sure whoever put down all those walkers cleaned it out. Ain’t nothin’ gonna be in there anyway. C’mon. Let’s just get ya home,” he said, taking your pack from you and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Daryl, we came all this way. Don’t you want to—”

“Nah. What I want is to get ya home. You’re sick. C’mon,” he insisted. His face was clouded with worry as you wiped a shaky hand over your brow, surprised at the clamminess of your own skin.

You nodded. “Okay. Alright.”

You were still a little nauseous the whole drive back to the prison. You had the window down so the fresh air was on your face which helped some, but the churning in your stomach never really stopped. Daryl kept glancing over at you the whole time he was driving, checking the color of your face, watching carefully for any sign that you were worsening.

He reached over and rested his hand on your knee. You caught his blue eyes and smiled weakly. “Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing. Probably just the stagnant air in there or something,” you said, trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced, but he nodded.

He felt better as soon as he had you back behind the safe walls of the prison. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as you both headed up toward the main building. Daryl spotted Hershel and Carol in the yard and stopped short. “Hey—I’m gonna grab Hershel to come take a look at ya. Go on and lay down,” he said, inclining his chin toward the building.

“I’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You’re really making too much of this,” you said.

“Maybe. But better safe than sorry,” he said.

You gave him a weak smile and nodded, conceding to his sweet concern. “See you in a few?”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before he jogged off toward Hershel.

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the space the two of you had claimed, Hershel and Carol in tow. You were laying on the mattress with his poncho draped over you. You looked tired, but Daryl was relieved to see that some of the color looked like it had come back into your face.

Hershel pulled up a chair as you sat up. “Feeling a bit under the weather? Let’s see if you’ve got a fever. After having kids, every parent turns into a human thermometer,” he said. He pressed a hand to your forehead. “No fever. Any other symptoms? Headache? Weakness? Feeling dizzy?”

You shook your head. “No. A bit tired. And just had some nausea.”

“She was pale and clammy before,” Daryl drawled, watching with worry. “She looks better now.”

Hershel nodded. “I see.”

“Really, I think it was just the smell of those rotting walkers. The air in there was heavy with decomp. It was like I could frickin’ taste it. Ugh, it was horrible,” you said. Your stomach turned again a little as you thought about it and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Hershel nodded. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Hershel said.

Daryl shifted. “Ya sure?” the archer pressed him.

“I’m sure. Why don’t you go on and help Rick with that new water line? We’ll just get her some water and something to eat. Make sure she rests. But I don’t think there’s anything troubling.”

Daryl considered you for a moment and you gave him a smile. He seemed to feel reassured and he nodded. “Alright.” He crossed the space to you quickly and leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. “I���ll be back in a bit,” he said, giving you one more parting glance. You smiled at him again and watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

“So, I’m okay?” you asked, adjusting Daryl’s poncho over your lap. You watched Hershel and Carol exchange a look. You stomach twisted. “What? What is it?”

“It was the smell of the walkers that set off the nausea?” Carol asked.

“Yeah…” You stared at the two of them, perplexed. “What, you’re surprised that a bunch of rotting corpses in a closed-up store with no ventilation made me puke?”

“Well… a little, to be honest,” Hershel said gently.

You gave him a questioning look and then stared at Carol.

“We’re not saying that isn’t understandable. It’s just that you have never reacted that way before. And we’ve all seen you deal with rotting corpses before plenty of times,” Carol said. “You’ve never gotten sick.”

“I don’t get what you’re driving at. So, maybe I have a little stomach virus or something?” you said. “Is something wrong with me?”

“No. No, honey,” Carol said, grabbing your hand. She took a breath, her eyes searching your face. “Y/N, could you be… pregnant?”

You froze, a sudden, struck expression on your face. The doctor and Carol watched your eyes go a little round and wide, flitting back and forth as your mind whirred, like you were searching for the answer in the air over their shoulders. “Oh my God.”

Hershel and Carol watched your reaction carefully. You were as still as a stone statue.

“Oh my God,” you said again. “I didn’t even—” You shook your head slightly. “I didn’t realize, but—” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “Between never having enough to eat and the constant stress, I didn’t even notice that I—I mean, it’s not like we’ve been trying.”

“So, I’ll take that as a maybe,” Hershel said nodding. There was a spark in his eye as he peered at you kindly. “We’ll see about getting you a test.”

You looked back at Carol, your mouth dropping open and your eyes a little frantic. “Carol, what do I—? Daryl… He—" If it was true, you had no idea how the archer would react. Hell, at that moment you didn’t even know how you would react.

She gave you a concerned smile and squeezed your hand between her palms. “Let’s just take this a step at a time,” she said gently. “Okay?”

You gulped and nodded, suddenly reeling with anxiety. “Okay. Okay…”

Hershel climbed to his feet. “You rest. Carol and I will figure out getting a test for you. Probably just ask Glenn to make a run.” He read the anxiety on your face. “Either way this goes, it’s your decision what happens next,” he said gently. “Daryl is a good man. Try not to worry,” he said.

You nodded. “I know. I know… Okay.”

Carol followed Hershel out and you laid down on the mattress, pulling Daryl’s poncho up over you and curling your fingers into it, pressing your face close to the fabric and breathing in his smell. You laid awake for a while with your mind spinning, wondering how he would react to the news. It was always easy to picture your future with Daryl, even during what was seemingly the end of the world, but you’d never thought about the details beyond the two of you being together. And with the history of his parents, what he had gone through, you didn’t know what he would want as far as a family… That had never mattered to you before, but now that you were staring the possibility in the face you were suddenly wrecked with nerves.

Sometime later, the archer arrived to check on you, approaching the space you shared in the lofted area of the cell block quietly, expecting you to be sleeping. But he was surprised to see that, although you were in bed, your eyes were open and you rolled over at the sound of his quiet steps.

He was sweaty and coated in dust and mud that was in various stages of drying. He set his bow down beside the bed. “Ya ain’t sleepin’?” he drawled.

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

His brow furrowed. “How are ya feelin’?”

“Fine. Just a little tired.” You smiled at his dirty and somewhat disheveled appearance. “Come here,” you said softly.

He glanced down at his mud-coated clothes and arms, and looked back up at you like you were nuts for that request. “M’filthy,” he said.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Come here.” You moved over to make room for him to lay down beside you.

Daryl gave you a look, his blue eyes soft, and bent down to at least pull off his boots. He laid down facing you and his heart leapt as you moved into him closely, your arm draping over his waist. You moved your leg until it was tangled between his. He happily breathed in the scent of your hair.

“Ya okay? Really?” he asked, his deep voice a little heavy with gravel—the result of his concern.

You pulled back from him just enough so you could look into his handsome face. “Mhm. I’m fine. Really.”

He nodded and seemed to relax some, draping his arm over you, mirroring your position. You nuzzled into him again and for the first time since Hershel and Carol had left you alone, your mind quieted.

You felt him place a kiss in your hair and you smiled reflexively.

“I need to clean up. I’m gettin’ our bed all muddy,” he said. You felt the rumble of the bass in his voice.

“Can I come?” you asked softly. “I’ve felt gross since the run.”

He glanced down at you and nodded. “If I ever say no to that, ya can assume I’ve lost my damn mind.” He gave you a fond look and smoothed your hair gently. “Ya sure ya just don’t wanna sleep?”

“Mhm. I’m sure. Besides, I won’t be able to sleep unless you’re right here anyway.”

Daryl smiled, feeling a swell of affection for you and the way you always made him feel wanted and needed. “Alright. C’mon then.”

So, the two of you made your way to the showers and slipped into a private stall. Daryl pulled you into him under the stream of water and kissed your bare shoulders and up your neck, his arms smoothing over the curves of your sides and landing on the angles of your hips. You scrubbed away the mud from his skin and he smoothed the soapy lather over yours, loving the way his fingers glided over the shape of you. When you were both clean, Daryl shut off the water and wrapped you into him with his big towel causing you to laugh. “Gotcha,” he drawled.

“You do.” Your hand landed flush on his strong chest, your fingers splayed out, and you looked up at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled slightly in a smile. Daryl’s heart jumped every time you looked at him like that. He leaned forward and left a kiss on your nose, watching as your eyelashes fluttered closed.

You looked up at him again as he grabbed your towel for you and you both dried off before pulling on some clean clothes. Daryl watched you running a comb through your hair and studied the graceful movements of your hands. “Hey,” he said softly, drawing your eyes to him immediately. “Ya know I love ya, right?” He still looked a little bashful every time he said it. You didn’t mind.

Your face lit with a gentle smile and you closed the space to him in an instant, clasping his face in both of your hands. “I know. And you know, I love you, right?” you said.

Daryl’s lips found yours and you sank into each other for a moment. “I know,” he said when you broke apart. “C’mon. Ya need somethin’ to eat and then sleep.” He laced his fingers with yours and pulled you toward the cell block.

After a quiet supper with the rest of the group, the two of you wandered outside into the evening air to enjoy the stars for a few moments before heading up to bed. Daryl sat down on the soft grass and tilted his head at you, beckoning for you to come sit up against him. You sank down in front of him and leaned back. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

One thing Daryl always loved about you was that you didn’t need to fill every silence. Just being close to one another filled each of you up in ways that idle chatter never could. But when he did want to talk, you listened intensely, really listened to him in ways he wasn’t used to. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said softly, pausing to anxiously chew his bottom lip for a moment, “if the outbreak hadn’t happened, you and I probably never would have even looked at each other.”

“Hmm. How do you mean?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking about how best to explain what he meant. “I was too busy runnin’ around bein’ a piece of shit with Merle. And you—we were in different worlds, ya know. We probably never woulda even had the chance of brushin’ elbows. But if we did,” he shrugged, “I don’t think ya woulda looked at me twice.” He ran his hand down your bare arm, relishing the feeling of your soft skin. “Hell, I didn’t think ya would look at me twice even now…”

You turned and looked over at him, a sad but thoughtful expression on your face. “It’s hard to know, and maybe you’re right, that we would have never met… but if we did, I think I would have seen you just the same way. It’s impossible not to see you, Daryl.” You clasped his face and stroked your thumb along his strong jaw.

His eyes were flickering between yours and he felt that familiar bloom of warmth starting in the center of his chest, right between his lungs, and growing outward. He nudged his nose up at you, in awe of you always, and you acquiesced happily and kissed him. “Let’s get some rest,” he drawled when you finally broke apart. “C’mon.”

Daryl stood and pulled you up, keeping your hand captured in his, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as you made your way up to bed.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you woke up the next morning you could tell it was much later than you usually slept in. And the fact that Daryl wasn’t beside you and that you hadn’t woken up when he stirred was also unusual. You were a light sleeper, and the two of you generally woke and got up around the same time. This sent your anxiety whirling again.

You got up and threw on some clothes, heading down to the lower level of the cell block and finding Carol and Beth sitting at one of the tables with Judith.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Carol said with a smile.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. “Yeah, geez. What time is it? I don’t even know when I last slept in this late.”

She nodded and gave you a pointed look.

Beth only smiled up at you. “You must have needed it then,” she said kindly.

“I guess so…” You glanced around but the cell block was empty. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s on the fence with Rick. Little herd piled up overnight,” Carol explained.

“Mmm,” hummed in acknowledgment.

“Maggie and Glenn ran into town for some supplies,” Carol said, shooting you another meaningful look.

You nodded. “Great. Okay.” You anxiously bit the inside of your cheek.

“You want some breakfast? There’s some oatmeal we made,” Beth offered.

You shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I’m gonna go see how things are going on the fence I think.”

“Y/N, you should eat something,” Carol said.

You waved her off, already headed toward the door. “I’m fine! I’ll eat something in a bit!” Truthfully you had no appetite at all. This waiting, the not knowing, was agonizing.

You stepped out into the bright sunshine and set out toward the two figures on the perimeter fence. There was a group of walkers still clawing at the chain link, but it looked like Rick and Daryl had it under control. You grasped the interior chain link and hollered at Daryl and Rick over the mawing and growling sounds. “Best way to start the day?”

They both spun and you grinned at them. They were sweaty and splattered with walker blood, each clutching a metal rod in their hands, the end covered with a bit of gore. You felt a spin of nausea and avoided looking at the crimson dripping from their weapons.

“Morning exercise,” Rick said with a smile. He turned back and continued the task.

“Yer up,” Daryl said with a smile. He came over, wiped his hand on the red rag he always had in his back pocket, and then rested his fingers over yours, which were poking through the fence on his side.

“You should have woken me up! I can’t believe I slept in this late,” you said.

“Nah. Ya needed it,” he drawled. “Ya were out cold. Didn’t even move when I got up. Besides, we’ve got this handled. Ain’t no reason ya need to be out here.”

You nodded. “I see that.”

“Should be a done in a bit,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the growing pile of dead ones on the other side of the fence. Looking back at you, Daryl thought you looked a little pale. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing a little.

You nodded. “Mhm. Fine. I’m gonna just go see if Hershel needs help in the garden,” you replied. “See ya in a few?”

The archer nodded and watch you start to turn away. “Hey—just take it easy, alright?”

You laughed. “I think harvesting cucumbers is about as easy as it gets!” You gave him one more wide smile and headed for the vegetable garden. “Hey, Carl,” you said, as you came through the gate and passed him. “What are we harvesting today?”

Hershel glanced up at you and gave you a small smile. “Cucumbers. Peppers. Those tomatoes could use some weeding if you’re up for it,” he said. He surveyed you carefully and, like Daryl, did think you looked a little pale. But you seemed otherwise bright and alert as you set about your task.

But you hadn’t been working in the garden long when you started to feel a bit dizzy. A cold sweat broke out at your hairline and on the back of your neck and you knelt heavily in the soil a little suddenly.

Hershel noticed immediately. “Y/N?” He got up and moved over to you. He watched you wipe a shaky hand across your forehead. “You alright?”

You heaved in a deep breath and forced it out slowly. “Just feel sick all of a sudden. I’m okay. I’m fine,” you said, straightening back up. But as soon as you tried to stand your knees felt weak.

Hershel grabbed your arm to steady you. “Whoa. Easy now. Alright.” He turned to Carl. “Carl, go run and get Daryl.”

“No. No, I’m fine… Don’t bother Daryl with this. It’s nothing. I’m alright. I’ll just head back inside and rest,” you argued.

“You sure? It’s no bother to Daryl to come look after you,” Hershel said, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Really. I guess I do need some rest. It’s nothing,” you argued.

Hershel reluctantly released his gentle hold on your arm and you made your way back inside. Carol stood up when you came in and you read concern on her face at the sight of you. You let out a wry laugh.

“Wow, do I really look that bad?” you said, wiping at the sweat on your brow again with the back of your hand. Beth glanced over and she too looked worried after studying you. “I’m okay. Just gonna go lay down. I must just be a little sick... Caught some virus or something.” You climbed the stairs and collapsed back into bed, again grabbing Daryl’s poncho and cuddling up to it.

You dozed in and out for a while but woke when you heard hurried steps on the stairs. Looking up you saw Daryl in front of you, his blue eyes narrowed and obvious worry on his countenance. You leaned up on one elbow as Hershel came into view behind him.

Daryl sank down on the edge of the bed next to you and pushed your hair out of your face, smoothing it gently. “Ya are sick,” he said.

“I think she might be a little anemic,” Hershel said. “She needs iron. Red meat would be best.”

Daryl glanced over at him and nodded. “Alright. I can do that,” he said, grateful for a task that would be helpful to you when he was feeling helpless. He looked back at you. “I want ya to stay in bed today. Rest,” he said softly, his eyes flitting between yours. “Ya gonna be alright if I go out and hunt?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He gulped. “Alright. Promise you’ll stay in bed?”

You looked up at the sweet worry on his face. “I promise. Promise you’ll be safe out there?” You hated the idea of him going out and hunting alone.

“I promise. I’ll come back to ya.” He smoothed your hair again and then leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes briefly at the sensation.

He shouldered his crossbow and look at Hershel. “Thanks, doc,” he said. You watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

You glanced up at Hershel who set a glass of water down next to the bed for you. “You really think I’m anemic?”

He nodded. “I do. Fits all your symptoms. All of them except you getting sick yesterday.”

“Oh… okay.”

Hershel gave you a kind look. “Glenn and Maggie should be back any minute now. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.”

You dozed on and off for a while until you heard some activity down the stairs and you sat up in bed. Quiet, steady footsteps on the stairs approached and Maggie came into view with a small bag for you. “Got what you needed,” she said.

You sat up, your stomach churning nervously, and accepted the bag from her. “Thanks,” you said. She hovered for a moment.

“Do you know what you’re hopin’ for?” she asked.

You shook your head and glanced up at her. “Not really…”

She nodded. “Well, either way it goes, we’re all here for you. And I know Daryl is too, no matter what.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” You stared back down at the bag in your hand. “Well, better get it over with I suppose,” you said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

A short while later you were back in the space you and Daryl shared, the pregnancy test sitting on the chair next to the bed. You couldn’t stop switching between sitting and anxiously bouncing your leg and pacing along the side of the bed wringing your hands. You were obsessively checking the time and it felt like it had decided to move like cold molasses. You were a bundle of nerves, but finally it was time to check the results. You forced a nervous breath in and out and picked up the test.

Positive. It was positive.

You felt like your knees were about to give out and you sat down on the bed hard, staring at that little plus sign.

Your heart was racing, and even though you were terrified, and so nervous wondering what Daryl’s reaction would be that you thought you might pass out, you broke into a teary smile as you stared at the results.

You replaced the test on the chair beside the bed and flopped backwards onto the mattress, staring up at the gray concrete of the ceiling and watching the shifting light and shadows. Whether it was simply from the relief of knowing or a result of the stress leading up to it combined with the toll on your body, you fell asleep not long after, cuddled up to Daryl’s poncho.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was almost sunset when Daryl came back from his hunt, hauling a small deer over his shoulder. He had told himself he wasn’t coming back until he had some meat for you and everyone else (but mostly for you…) and he had succeeded. Usually hunting or tracking quieted his mind, but the whole time he was outside the prison fences he had been worrying about you. Before the outbreak, it wasn’t a big deal to get the flu or some random virus. But now, without access to modern medical care, something simple could turn into a big fucking problem real quick. You’d never had a problem with anemia before, if that’s what this was, and he didn’t really understand why you suddenly would. But he also knew that you were the type of person who would choose to go without a decent meal so Beth or Carl could have a second helping. He made a mental note to ask Maggie and Glenn about whether they saw any place on their run today that might have meds or supplements. Better to search out what they could before you needed it desperately.

The sun was low and sinking fast beyond the tree line as Daryl nodded to Carol as she closed the gate behind him.

“That’s a good find!” she said enthusiastically, looking at the deer slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. How’s Y/N?”

“Hershel’s been checking on her. She’s been sleeping all afternoon,” Carol said.

Daryl nodded. “Good. I was afraid she’d be up tryin’ to help on the frickin’ fence or somethin’. Stubborn,” he drawled. He started up toward the prison and left the deer outside to be butchered. He wanted to see you before he did anything else.

It was quiet in the cell block. Most of the group was winding down for the evening, sprawled out with a book or busying themselves with some quiet activity. Rick gave Daryl a nod as he came in and continued bouncing and shushing Judith.

Climbing the stairs to your shared space, Daryl could tell you must still be asleep. Normally you’d have been calling out to him already with some greeting, or you’d be waiting at the top of the stairs with a one of those smiles that killed him every time.

He smiled as you came into view on the bed. You were partially curled up on your side, cuddled up to his poncho tightly, your fingers curled into the fabric and your cheek pressed to it. He pulled off his vest and tossed it on the chair beside the bed, debating about whether or not to wake you up and ask how you were, when he heard something clatter to the floor.

He bent and felt around under the chair and his hand closed on it. Straightening up, he finally looked at what was in his hand. Even Daryl knew what that little plus sign meant. He glanced back over at your sleeping figure.

This was—was this—suddenly, everything made sense.

The archer rushed down the stairs and toward the exit. Rick looked up and frowned at his urgency. “Daryl?” But the archer didn’t even stop to look at him.

Outside, he grabbed his crossbow from where he had laid it down by the deer, shouldered it, and let himself into the alley between the fences, running toward the vehicles waiting on the outside.

Carol saw him and her stomach immediately twisted. “Daryl?” She rushed toward the fence, but by the time she got there he was already slamming the driver door of the SUV and peeling out, the tires scattering gravel behind the car. Carol gripped the chain link fence so hard her knuckles were white and stared at the taillights disappearing into the dark beyond the lazily drifting cloud of dust. Her stomach dropped.

She ran the whole way back up to the prison and met Rick on his way out. “What’s going on?” Carol asked desperately.

“I was just coming to ask Daryl that same question,” Rick said, his eyes searching the yard and perimeter fence for his broad-shouldered frame. “He just went hurrying out of the cellblock.”

“I saw! He just took the SUV and peeled out of here,” Carol said, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s dark! Where could he possibly be going right now that couldn’t wait?”

A shadow darkened Rick’s expression. He shook his head and shrugged, meeting Carol’s eyes again, at a complete loss. “Better ask Y/N.”

Carol suddenly realized—like a flash of lightning. She nodded to Rick. “Let me go talk to her.”

Carol climbed the stairs to you and Daryl’s space in the cellblock. You were fast asleep on the bed and she gently touched your shoulder to wake you. You stirred and glanced over at her through sleepy eyes. You must have read something on her face because you shot up in bed immediately. “What? What is it? Is Daryl okay? Is he back?” You could tell by the lack of slanted light coming through the high windows that it must be dark.

Carol didn’t know how to tell you this. “He’s fine. He came back with a deer. And then—all of a sudden he just barreled out of here again. He took the SUV.”

You suddenly realized that Carol was sitting on the chair where the pregnancy test had been. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “Wait—where—where’s the test? It was—it was right there where you’re sitting,” you said.

Carol shook her head. “I didn’t see it. There was nothing here when I came up. Just Daryl’s vest over the back here—”

Carol took in your wide-eyed expression. You jumped up off the bed and starting searching around the floor, reaching under the mattress. “It was right there. I set it there.” You stood up, frozen, one hand clutched to your head. Shit. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Daryl came back, and you were asleep, and he must have seen the test and— “He—He came back and I was asleep and he saw it,” you murmured. “He must have seen it and… he just ran off?” There were tears stinging in your eyes now.

Carol stood up and gently grasped your shoulders. “Try not to jump to any conclusions.”

“Carol, it was positive.” You just stared at her, your eyes still wide. “It was positive! What else am I supposed to think? He came back and he saw a positive pregnancy test and he just—he just left?” Your voice was desperate.

The only thing Carol could think of doing was to grab you tightly and hug you. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay! Don’t panic!”

Part of you knew Daryl would never just leave, but another part of you knew this was completely uncharted territory. You honestly didn’t know how he would react to the news… You couldn’t stop cursing yourself for leaving the stupid test out like that and letting yourself fall asleep. Anyone could have walked up and seen it, and of course it had to be Daryl. You snatched his poncho off the bed and started toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Carol demanded.

“I’m gonna go wait,” you said. “I’ll be in the east guard tower…And Carol—Please don’t say anything about this to anyone… Just—not yet. Not now.” You breezed past Rick on your way out, ignoring him calling your name.

Carol met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What’d she say?” Rick drawled.

Carol shrugged. “She was sleeping. Maybe—maybe Daryl is worried about her being sick and decided to go look for supplies,” she offered weakly.

Rick let out a disbelieving sigh. “At night? By himself?”

All Carol could do was shrug.

“How is Y/N? And where’d she just rush off to?”

Carol nodded. “She’s alright. Worrying about Daryl now obviously. She wanted some fresh air and to watch for him so she headed up to the guard tower.”

The worry creases on Rick’s forehead didn’t ease. “What the hell is he thinking going off by himself at night?”

Carol shook her head. “He probably wasn’t.”

Up in the guard tower, with Daryl’s poncho swaddled tightly around you, you sat out in the open night air and stared at the road that led up to the gate. A few times you even tricked yourself into thinking there were distant headlights approaching, but when you looked again everything was just as still and black as it had been a moment before. You heard the door creak open behind you and Hershel stepped out.

He sighed and looked up at the inky blue-black sky, dotted with innumerable stars. “Ah. It’s nice and cool out here now,” he said, leaning back against the wall of the tower. He bent and set a bowl of some noodles and vegetables beside you. “You better eat something,” he said.

“No appetite right now, funny enough,” you said.

He could see the rigid tension in your shoulders and he sank down next to you with some effort, adjusting his prosthetic leg with a sigh. “I can see you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he said gently. “Trying to guess the answer before you can even ask the question.”

You finally looked over at him, an anxious expression on your face. “Did Carol tell you?”

“No. She didn’t have to. I can guess well enough,” he said, a small smile on his lips. Hershel turned his gaze out over the yard. “You know there was a time, back at the farm, when I wasn’t sure about Daryl. You can imagine this old farmer was a little skeptical of his rough-around-the-edges, hot-headed biker attitude,” he chuckled to himself. “But time and time again, he came through for me and my girls. He watched out for all of you and he kept us safe even when we weren’t his to care about yet. He certainly saw Shane for what he was before anyone else.” Hershel breathed in a deep breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly. “And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d do anything for you.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes again, and you adjusted the poncho around your shoulders.

“Whatever reason he had for tearing out of here like he did, I promise you that he will be back,” Hershel said strongly.

You wiped one tear that leaked onto your cheek and sniffled, trying your hardest to blink away the rest. You nodded. “Yeah. I just—I don’t know how to—how to do any of this,” you said. “And we’ve never even talked about it so I don’t know what he wants. What if—”

Hershel chuckled again. “What ifs can lead you down a dangerous road of thinking. Let’s just wait and see, hmm?”

You gulped and nodded, staring back out into the night. “You don’t have to wait with me,” you said.

“I’m going to sit here until you eat something. Doctor’s orders.” You could hear a smile in his voice and you begrudgingly picked up the bowl he had brought for you and picked at the food. Hershel smiled.

When the bowl was empty, Hershel took it from you and pulled himself to his feet again. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

You felt like you had been waiting up there for days, but it was really only a few hours. You were reeling with worry, but this time when you thought you saw headlights and looked again they were still there.

You jumped up and stared as the SUV came into view and stopped at the gate. Turning on your heel, you started to rush toward the stairwell but you suddenly froze. What the hell were you going to say? What the hell was Daryl going to say? You were gripped with anxiety again as the multitude of what ifs you had been fighting since waking up suddenly traveled through your brain in single file at light speed. You were frozen, staring at the door for… you didn’t even know how long when it suddenly started to open.

You startled and jumped back with a small gasp of surprise. Daryl’s broad shoulders emerged through the widening gap. “Y/N?”

You gulped and stared back at him, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek.

He stopped just inside the door and took in your wide eyes and obvious distress. His brow furrowed heavily, casting a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. He gulped and stepped closer to you.

You cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t come unnaturally high or strangled sounding despite the constriction in your throat. “You’re back,” you said softly. It was the only thing you could force out.

Daryl looked puzzled. “Of course I’m back,” he said, stepping closer. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and worried it between his teeth for a moment. You watched as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test.

Your heart was pounding.

“I, uhh—I found this. Ya were asleep and—” He gulped. “It’s positive, right? Means you’re pregnant.” It really wasn’t a question.

Daryl could see your chest heaving a little with your nervous breaths. You nodded.

Daryl stared down at it for a long moment before he looked back up at you. “What do you wanna do?” he asked.

You stared at him. He looked so calm while you felt like you were spinning. “I don’t—I don’t know—I—” You forced in a breath. “We’ve never talked about what you want. Hell, we’ve never talked about what I want either…”

“I know what I want. I want you. That’s more than I could ever ask for,” he said, stepping closer toward you again. “But this? This is your decision. And whatever you decide is fine by me.”

You were almost overwhelmed with emotion immediately, just hearing him speak those words. Daryl saw it and he couldn’t resist breaking the buffer of space between you any longer. He clasped your face in both hands as the tears finally broke free of your eyes and traveled down your cheeks. “Hey. S’alright,” he murmured to you. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you against him tightly. “M’right here.”

You pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You’re really okay with… either way?” you asked him, uncertainty still plain in your eyes.

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Promise.” He smoothed his hands over your back.

You leaned your head against his chest for a moment and listened to his strong and steady heart. Daryl gently stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of you against him and the silky strands of your hair under his fingertips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, part of you still bracing against some worst-case scenario you knew would never come, but that nagging doubt wouldn’t be completely silenced. Your voice was soft, but Daryl still heard it as clear as day. “I think—I want to do this. With you.” You pulled back slightly and looked up, meeting Daryl’s waiting blue eyes. You had barely gotten the words out before he had wrapped you up again and picked you up off your feet, hugging you so tightly he squeezed a little air from your lungs. You let out a surprised laugh as he set you back down, about to speak again, but he clasped your face and kissed you feverishly before you could start. It was like a warm shot of bourbon or that first warm day of sunshine after a long winter. It was urgent and soft at the same time, pleading and needy but affirming, his fingers in your hair.

When he finally pulled back there was a smile crinkling the corner of his blue eyes as they flickered between yours. You were sure you had a slight look of shock on your face still despite the bewildered smile you were now wearing.

“We’re doin’ this?” he asked, not releasing his gentle hold on your face.

You nodded. “We are.” Your heart was pounding. “Oh my God, we are…”

Daryl kissed you again and you sunk into it deeply this time. His hands came to rest on your hips and you stared up at him, still feeling a little like you were spinning. “I didn’t know how you’d—because of your life growing up…” you trailed off.

He nodded. “I know. But I ain’t my dad,” he said forcefully. “You’ve shown me that more than anyone.”

“I woke up and Carol said you just went running off and I—I didn’t know what to think when I realized the test was gone and that you must have seen it,” you admitted.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he shook his head as he looked at you. “Ya thought I would leave ya?”

“No! No, I didn’t—but then—I just—I guess I got scared… This whole thing is a little overwhelming.”

“Hey. C’mere,” he said, wrapping you up in his arms again and pressing you against him. “I ain’t never leavin’ ya. Never. You’re—you’re my everythin’.”

You breathed him in for a moment before pulling back. “Well, then where did you go?”

One corner of his mouth twitched up and he laced his fingers with yours. “C’mon. I’ll show ya.”

You followed him down the stairs and back into the prison to the cellblock. It seemed that everyone was already asleep except for the two of you, satisfied once Daryl was back that they didn’t need to wait up worrying anymore like you were. When you climbed the stairs into your space, Daryl bent down and pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed. It looked like it was stuffed full. He knelt down beside it and unzipped it.

You stared down at the contents and then met his blue eyes. “This is what you were doing?”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, pressing his lips together a little nervously. Now you were the one who grabbed him and kissed him desperately.

The bag was full of things you would need during a pregnancy and for a baby; pre-natal vitamins, bottles, pacifiers, blankets, diapers. Your heart swelled as you looked down at it and then back at Daryl again. You shook your head. “You just—you amaze me,” you said.

He shrugged, still a little bashful when you directly complimented him even after all this time. He reached back under the bed and pulled out a second bag. You gave him a questioning look. “What is that?”

“In case ya decided the other way,” he said. “S’mostly just some random things ya like. Books and…” He shrugged again.

“So—Baby was Plan A?” you asked him as he climbed to his feet.

“You were Plan A. Ya always were and ya always will be.”

You looped your arms around his neck and his hands reflexively landed gently on your lower back. “But—you were hoping—?”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. “If ya woulda asked me a week ago I don’t know what I woulda said. But as soon as I picked up that damn test up and looked at it… And then I looked at ya just layin’ there asleep, all wrapped up with my poncho the way you were… I knew what I was hoping for. But I mean it when I say that anything you decided would be fine. You’re the one who as to do the hard part.”

You arched up onto your toes and kissed him again, sliding your fingers into his hair and feeling calm and happy again for the first time since you had sent out for the test. “How’d I get so lucky finding you?” you asked him quietly. Daryl felt his heart skip a beat and electricity zipped up his back. You always did that to him. Easily. Still.

“I ask myself that all the damn time,” he drawled. “Now c’mon. Ya need rest.”

You nodded and realized that despite sleeping most of the day, you were exhausted. Anxiety will do that… “I suppose you think this means you’re gonna be able to boss me around now?” you joked, settling into bed.

“Damn right,” he said with a smirk, pushing the duffels of supplies back under the mattress. “Gotta make sure ya take care of yerself and the little one. I’m gonna boss ya around all the damn time.” He kicked off his boots and slipped into bed next to you, immediately moving until his body was pressed against yours and he could wrap an arm over you. You slipped your fingers between his. “Gonna tell Hershel he can boss ya around too,” he joked. “And Carol. And Rick. And Maggie. And—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you laughed.

Daryl smiled to himself and kissed your neck. “We’re doin’ this,” he said softly.

You sighed contentedly and nodded. “We are.” And that night you had no trouble sleeping.

[xmint-conditionx]

⊹ lava cake ⊹ birthday sex | myg

✜ pairing: yoongi x reader; yoongi x fem!reader; dom!yoongi x brat!reader ✜ word count: 3.4K ✜ summary: your friend dragged you to this huge house birthday party for some guy you don’t even know, and she disappears with her boyfriend, leaving you alone in the crowd. while trying to find her, you lock eyes with a handsome stranger across the room who looks like he could use some company. ✜ warnings: 18+ only, light slapping, casual sex, orgasm denial, overstimulation, sex w/ a stranger, unprotected sex (pls be safe y’all), rough dom, slight public sex?? (idk y’all are behind closed doors but at a party so?????), oral (f), slight degradation. ✜ a/n: hiya! bringing this gem back a day late for the best boy's birthday! wrote this for his birthday a year ago, and one day it will get the sequel it deserves. yoongi w mint hair is my inspiration for my name, so this holds a special place in my heart.

i really hope you like it! thanks, luvs, enjoy!

<3 minty ✧

The crunch of ice in your mouth from your now empty drink is a welcome distraction from the overall din of the loud party guests and even louder music. You scan the large open living room of the house again for your friend and her boyfriend, but they’re nowhere to be found. “Wait right here, we’ll be back in a minute” Micha had said as Taehyung took her over to another part of the house, presumably to meet with another friend of his. That was half an hour ago. You impatiently begin searching the room once more for any sign of Micha’s bright pink hair, furrowing your brows in frustration as you come up with nothing.

As your eyes are rapidly moving from face to face, your search is halted by a minty haired man who is staring directly at you from the other side of the room.

He’s nestled in by the foot of the staircase, back leaning against the railing, red solo cup in his hand. The ends of his hair caress his tiny ears, which are decorated with long and dangly silver earrings, alive in the colored lights of the party. By the time you’ve assessed the man in full and return to his eyes, his eyes are still locked on yours. Unwavering, like a challenge.

You hold his gaze almost threateningly, but he doesn’t flinch away from your heavy eyes. While maintaining eye contact, he gently sips out of the red solo cup before brazenly eyeing you up and down and raising one of his brows in response. After he finishes his sip, he again makes deliberate eye contact with you and runs his tongue over his bottom lip, collecting the drops of drink that was left there.

Your friend is nowhere to be found, so you might as well go and make a new one.

You break away from his lingering stare to fill your cup, and then you make your way through the crowd to the challenger on the other side of the room. You expect him to be looking at you when you return into his line of sight, but are shocked to discover the opposite.

Where his gaze was full of intention, it is now lackluster. Where it had been on you, it now seems to be looking at nothing at all. The empty space in the middle of the room. You walk up and say the only thing you can think of that will get a conversation going.

“Lame party, huh?” you say, taking a sip of your drink and leaning into his direction.

“Yeah,” he says, still looking out into the distance, “I’m not really enjoying it either.”

“I don’t really know anyone here. I’ll be honest with you; I don’t even know the birthday boy. My friend’s boyfriend is a friend of his or something and she dragged me along so she ‘wouldn’t have to go alone’ or whatever.”

“Why aren’t you with her, then? You’d probably be having more fun.” he says as he finishes another sip.

“If she hadn’t disappeared on me an hour ago, I would be! This place is huge and I don’t want to go wandering around some strange man’s house. You’d think with all the money he has he’d at least be able to have better taste,” you say as you point to a bookshelf by the fireplace. “I mean look at that lava lamp! The 80’s called and want their aesthetic back, right?”

The man next to you just shrugs, “I don’t know. Some people like them I guess.”

You move your pointer finger to another corner of the room next to the bar. “That piano too? It looks so beat up! It doesn’t make sense with the rest of the decor at all. I wonder if this guy is alright. His head can’t be right.” you say and the man next to you snickers a little. You turn to him and meet his gaze again. It’s playful and a little dark; it makes you want to continue. “He could literally just buy a much better looking piano.”

His expression darkens further to a playfully scrutinizing one. “You’re awfully bold, insulting the host while you’re still at his party. If I were you, I’d watch that pretty little mouth before it gets you into trouble.”

This is going to be good.

“Oh yeah? And what if I don’t?” you fire back, staring up at him through your lashes. “Doesn’t seem like anyone is trying to stop me.”

He lets out a drawn out sigh and scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, you’re right. And what a shame that is. I’ve got about a million ideas about what you could be doing instead of running that mouth. More… productive things.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Who says I’d actually take you up on your little ideas, hmm?” you tease.

His eyes darken further, and you know you’ve got him.

“Well, it would be your loss,” he says.

You dramatically roll your eyes for maximum sass, “Yeah right, I’m sure.”

“Is that a challenge, little miss?” he asks, his gaze narrowing and his body closing in on you, trapping you against the railing of the staircase. You begin to feel like prey, a sensation that only dampens your panties further. At this close distance, you can just begin to smell his aftershave. His free hand brushes up your exposed thigh and starts to slowly ascend up past the hem of your short skirt. Your heart begins to pound and your legs start to tingle as you hesitantly meet his gaze again. He leans in closer.

“Aww, cat got your tongue?” he sings in your ear, making you bite your lip. You can feel the heat flushing your cheeks. He can likely feel the warmth that is spreading to other places, because his hand stops just outside of the cloth of your underwear.

“Mmm, let’s see if you can stay this quiet when my tongue is in your slit. Now, be a good girl and follow me.” he says, suddenly backing off and walking up the stairs. You wince slightly at the lack of warmth, but don’t hesitate to grab his hand as he leads you up.

He brings you to a set of double doors to the immediate right of the top of the stairs. The light is already on and you can see that the ensuite bathroom’s lights are on as well. He turns back to shut both of the doors and you hear the faint click of the lock.

“Is this the master?” you ask, taking in the details of the room. “I don’t think the birthday boy will want people fucking in his bedroom.”

He’s back on you in an instant, arm around your waist, pulling you up against his chest. “I guess you had better keep quiet then.”

Your lips are suddenly being pressed against his. He immediately deepens the kiss, receiving your tongue into his mouth with sloppy enthusiasm. He starts backing you up towards the side of the bed. Once you get there, you’re shoved down onto the mattress, bouncing slightly as you recover from his kiss. You watch dumbly as he deftly strips off his leather jacket and yanks off his plain t-shirt. Once his stomach is exposed, you find your mouth open and watering at the sight of the little happy trail under his abdominal muscles. You don’t have time to process any of it though, because in another instant he’s on top of you, straddling your hips.

He hooks his thumb into your gawking mouth, holding it open and says, “I’m going to rip you to shreds, little girl. If it becomes too much, say genius. Do you understand me?”

You nod sheepishly and swallow hard.

“Let’s hear you say it then.” he demands, removing his thumb from your mouth.

“Genius?” you say in almost a whisper and he begins to grin.

“Good girl. Remember, stay quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the party,” he says, removing his weight from on top of you while shifting you up the bed so that he can situate your hips under his face. He doesn’t bother taking off your skirt; he just forces the fabric up, exposing your already soaked panties.

“All this for me? I haven’t even touched you yet,” he teases.

You huff in frustration. “Yeah, you should probably get to that already.”

He responds with a smart little smack on your still covered clit. You clench and moan at the sensation, looking down at him with your best puppy dog eyes. He is unimpressed.

“What did I say about watching your mouth, brat?” he says as he hovers right over your heat, just close enough that you can feel his breath when he speaks.

“I’m sorry,” you groan out as your legs begin wiggling in hopes of getting his lips to make contact.

“That’s better,” he says, teasing your entrance outside of your panties with his thumb, sending sparks up your spine. “I just don’t know if you want it badly enough, princess.”

“Ugh,” you scoff, “I don’t know what else I can do! Pleeeeease?”

“Please, what?” he asks with a smirk, sending you a look that is filled with fire. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“Please taste me,” you beg with fistfulls of the comforter, and in that instant, he rips off your panties and is busy sucking on your clit. You let out a silent scream at the new sensation, hands pulling even harder on the blanket. He licks down your slit and then into it, sending another wave of pleasure through you. You’re already so wound up that you’re close to the brink, almost teetering over the edge when you grab his hair and start to buck your hips into his mouth, chasing your release.

He pulls away, much to your distaste, earning a whimper from you.

“Whyyyyy did you stooooppppp?” you whine, and he shoots you another dark look right before he slaps your clit again, this time much harder. You let out a yipe as you involuntarily clench around nothing. “I was about to come…” you say in the most adorable voice you can muster, poking out your bottom lip for full effect.

“Who says you get to come?” the man replies, your slick coating his lips. He plunges two fingers into you and starts a slow, teasing rhythm.

“Please, move faster, I–” your voice is cut off when he starts flicking his tongue on your clit, bringing you dangerously close. You know better than to tell on yourself, and you clench in anticipation of your orgasm… but he quickly stops everything and leaves you to come back down slowly, agonizingly.

You’re desperate and dizzy with desire, on the verge of tears with how badly you want to come. He’s kissing your inner thighs, leaving little marks here and there where he sucks and bites. It’s like he’s comforting you through the torture, by somehow making it worse.

“Ple– Please just let me come. I’ve tried to be good,” you plead, consumed with want.

He stops his little kisses and looks up at you. He says, “One more, you can do one more. I know you can. Then I’ll give you what you want. I think you might have learned your lesson.”

He takes the fingers that were just inside of you and puts them in his mouth, drinking up every bit of your wetness that he can. There’s no resistance when he reinserts them. He sets a menacing pace, curling up his fingers to hit that sweet spot, his lips fixed on your clit and his clouded gaze fixed on you. Before long, your release starts to build again, and you try to hold it back as best as you can. He comes off your clit with a wet popping sound and says, “Not yet. Don’t you dare come,” his fingers still pushing you ever closer.

His gravelly command makes you clench and that does it. You’re rocketing through your high and he fingerfucks you all the way through it. He pulls his fingers out and gets off the bed, leaving you to come down from your climax with closed eyes and labored breath.

Before you’ve fully recovered, you’re suddenly being hoisted up. He’s got your back up against the headboard, that much you can tell. When you open your eyes, you can’t believe what’s in front of you.

The mint haired man’s lips are mere inches away from yours, and he has pinned your arms down at your sides. You’re straddling his lap, which is now only covered by a pair of black boxer briefs that aren’t doing much to hide his erection. The outline of his dick with it’s tiny wet spot at the head makes you swallow, hard.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, I told you not to come, princess,” he teases. “It seems you need a different approach to learning your lesson. Since you wanted to come so bad, you’re not leaving this room until you’ve done it three more times.”

Your mouth hangs open; your eyebrows shoot up. You don’t even know if that’ll be possible.

“But this time,” he says lowly in your ear, “you’re going to come on my cock.”

He takes your hands and puts them on his waistband, indicating for you to remove them. As you do and his cock springs free, you can’t help but to lick your lips at how utterly delicious it looks. If he didn’t have other plans, you would have gladly taken it in your mouth that instant.

He takes his member in his own hand and teases your entrance with the head, mixing his precum with your leftover wetness from before. Just that touch has you ready to go again. You take matters into your own hands, literally, by taking his shaft and lining him up with you. As you sink down onto his cock, his breath hitches and you’re glad that you’re not the only one who is being tortured tonight.

His hands are tight on your hips, your skirt having rode all the way up a long time ago. His eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, and before he allows you to start, you see his eyes dart to your cleavage and back up.

“Take off your shirt for me,” he says.

“Why should I?” you snark back.

He quickly pulls out and thrusts all the way up into you, filling you completely up, sending a cry past your lips that was likely too loud. You’re suddenly more keenly aware of the ongoing party right outside those doors. You comply with his request, and he seems pleased that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath your blouse.

“Number one,” he says and unleashes a cruel pace. The lewd sounds of your bodies slapping together only heighten your arousal, and you’re not surprised when you get close to your next orgasm. Sensing this, he grabs your jaw in his hand and directs your gaze to meet his.

“I’m– I’m gonna–”

“Come for me, brat.”

Your second one of the evening shoots fireworks all throughout your body and you clench all over, relishing in being able to fully ride it out. You can’t hold all of your noise in this time, but neither of you seem to mind. As you come down from this one, you notice that he hasn’t slowed his pace at all. What was once the most pleasurable thing has now crossed over into being a little too much, but in a good way. Your sensitivity was almost painful, but this new sensation had enraptured you. You were ready to try for another.

There’s a banging at the door, and you both freeze. A voice comes through the other side.

“Yoongi, was that you in there? We’re about to light your cake. Come out so we can sing to you!” the voice says over the din.

“Give me 5 more minutes, Namjoon-ah! I’m in the middle of something,” the man, apparently named Yoongi, apparently the birthday boy, apparently the one who you’ve been insulting all night, yells back.

You stare up at him in shock, and try to figure out what to say to apologize. He wants none of it, because he covers your mouth with his hand and flips you down onto the mattress. He resumes his unrelenting pace this time with more force behind his thrusts, all while his hand is fast against your mouth.

“That lava lamp,” Yoongi said, “that was the first thing my mother bought when she got her first apartment. She passed it down to me when I got mine.”

You’re moaning against his hand, the embarrassment you feel fueling your arousal even more. He really was out to punish you.

“Number two.”

He grabs your hip with his free hand and digs his fingers into you so firmly, you’ll know there will be bruises there the next day. Yoongi is glistening with sweat, his eyes staring straight through you. All it takes to send you over the edge again is for a smart nip on your nipple.

You scream out into his hand, thankful you can at least be a little more vocal. He still has kept up his pace, and as you come down, it starts to become too much. You’re so wet and sensitive that it’s borderline unbearable. You start to tear up at the feeling, and he removes his hand from your mouth. Without stopping, he leans into your ear and tells you how beautiful you look taking his cock. He tells you how good you’ve been for him, and how he loves the way you taste. He tells you about how he knew he had to have you when he saw you across the room, looking like sin in that short skirt and revealing top. He says he knows you can take one more, because after all, it’s his birthday.

“This time, I want to hear you say my name,” Yoongi says sweetly before taking his thumb and pressing it against your overly sensitive bud. You cry out and then stop yourself, afraid of who can hear.

“Don’t hold back on me; be as loud as you need to,” he says, “this is my fucking house.”

You begin to let yourself whine out, the overstimulation reaching a breaking point. Your mascara is definitely a mess, but the way he was looking at you made you not care.

“Number three. Last one. You can do it.”

He increases the pressure on your clit and deepens his thrusts. He takes his hand from your hip and traces your bottom lip with the thumb before he plants a kiss. The kiss deepens and you allow him to lightly graze his tongue over yours, which he follows up with a little bite on your lower lip. You’re groaning up into him, feeling your next release sneak up. He locks eyes with you, and you can tell he’s holding himself back from his own release.

“Come, beautiful. So I can fill you up.”

At that, the coil snaps and you’re sent reeling into easily the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. As his name spills from your lips, he too meets his own end and you both ride out your climaxes together.

_____________

After you’ve cleaned yourself up a little in the ensuite, you deem it safe to return back downstairs. It’s been long enough that you’ve just heard them sing, so you’ll likely go unnoticed with all eyes on Yoongi as he blows out his candles. You walk down the stairs towards the crowd of people surrounding the birthday boy and his giant chocolate cake. He’s smiling and hugging some of his friends who are encouraging him to cut it open. Once he does, chocolate sauce oozes out and everyone cheers. It’s a lava cake.

He laughs and hugs one of his tall friends wearing an apron, whose laugh sounds like windshield wipers. Yoongi scans the crowd and meets your gaze. He scoops up a bit of chocolate sauce on the two fingers that had been inside you only moments ago and smirks at you as he licks them clean.

Why do you feel like he isn’t done with you yet?

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Disasterology - Tommy Slater (Part 2 of 3)

I cannot, for the life of me, get this boy outta my head

Warning: This one gets super dark and just, ugh, just painful

5.8k words🤙🏻

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so you were crushing hard on Tommy...you were crushing so hard that you realized you actually really, really liked him.

He was the sweetest person you had ever met, it was almost too good to be true. Could a person be this sweet? He even helped you with cleaning up the hate messages painted in your cabin, and that was the moment that made you realize you liked him. Though, it was also a bit scary considering you'd never had a healthy relationship before.

You wondered if Tommy felt the same way about you.

It had been about a week since camp had started, and the whole being a counselor thing kind of grew on you, mostly because you got to work with Tommy. You still got called names every time you interacted with a Sunnyvaler, but it balanced itself out when you got actual support from a few of the Shadyside counselors.

You got along pretty well with Alice, even though Cindy disapproved of you hanging out with her sometimes.

You still hated being forced into the camp activities, and that hatred didn't lessen, even with the Color War coming up. But you and Tommy got stuck with cleaning the outhouse and mess hall before the event started.

"This is the second time in a week that Kurt has made us clean the fuckin' mess hall." You huffed, scrubbing the floor angrily.

"Really has it out for us, huh?" Tommy chuckled, clearly amused by your frustration.

"It's cause I fuckin' rejected him the other day."

You didn't see it, but Tommy frowned. "Rejected him?"

"Yeah," You chuckled bitterly, "asshole tried to get in my pants after hide and seek."

"Well, he is kinda good looking, wouldn't you say?"

"Kurt could look like he was crafted by God Himself and I would still reject him because he's a douchebag. Plus, he's not my type."

"Oh yeah? What's your type?" Tommy asked, making your face heat up when you immediately thought of him, but you decided to answer him anyway.

"Well," You started, setting down your scrub and getting up off the floor to face Tommy, "he definitely cannot be an asshole like Kurt. He's gotta be caring and kind, maybe taller than me, blonde haired and blue eyed." You smiled softly.

Tommy mirrored your smile, a light blush dusting his cheeks and you realized he knew that you must've been talking about him. You and Tommy both just stared at each other for a moment, and you took a few steps closer to him until you were right in front of him. You looked into his bright blue eyes and started to lean in, until you heard the floorboards creak from behind you. "Nurse Lane?"

You looked behind you to see Mary Lane, and she didn't look so good. You had known about her daughter, Ruby, who went crazy and killed her friends. You felt bad for her, it's always hard to lose someone you cared about, you couldn't imagine how she must've felt. Though, there was something unsettling about her expression.

"I'm sorry, but I can't save you." Mary spoke, shakily holding a large knife in her right hand.

"What're you doing?" You asked, suddenly very aware of the danger that she posed.

"I saw your name." Mary directed to Tommy, and you started to take slow cautious steps towards her, hoping that she wouldn't notice you trying to get to the knife. "I saw it on the wall. One way or another, you're going to die tonight."

"What're you talking about?" Tommy stuttered nervously.

You gasped when Mary lashed out, pushing you onto the floor before trying to stab Tommy in the chest. Thankfully, he was strong and forced the knife out of the nurse's hand.

As Mary wrestled Tommy to the floor, you quickly stood back up and sprinted to the knife, you weren't sure what you were going to do with it but you felt it was the right move. You turned back around, the knife firmly gripped in your hand, only to see Tommy had already knocked Mary out.

"Oh my god..." You said, breathing unevenly. Tommy touched the back of his head, pulling it back to see his finger covered in his own blood. You quickly raced to his side, helping him stand and ushering him out of the mess hall and calling for help.

The police were called and Mary was taking away by an ambulance, and of course the first things people said was she got possessed by Sarah Fier. This wasn't a fucking joke, Tommy was almost killed by this woman.

You and Tommy had to give separate statements about what happened, but you felt nervous leaving him by himself and quickly met back up with him as soon as the police left. "Tommy, are you okay?" You asked frantically.

Tommy nodded slightly. "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine. Just in shock, I think."

"I can imagine, what a nightmare. How's your head?" Tommy reached behind his head to touch his wound, flinching slightly and seeing less blood coating his fingers than when it first happened. "We gotta get that cleaned up, come on." You grabbed him by the hand gently and guided him to the infirmary, even though the nurse wouldn't be there now.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Y/n." Tommy tried to reassure, but you wouldn't have it. You had basic knowledge of first aid, having to clean yourself up after some of the more severe bullying that you had to endure, so you were positive you could help Tommy.

You sat Tommy down on a chair, silently getting one of the first aid kits and taking a seat behind him so you could get a better angle on his head wound. It wasn't that bad, but you'd be damned if you let it get infected.

"Ah-!" Tommy winced when you started cleaning the wound with an antiseptic wipe without warning.

"Sorry." You said softly, making sure to be more gentle.

"No, it's okay. I'm kind of a big baby when it comes to this stuff." He weakly chuckled.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, even if he couldn't see it. "You're not." You heard Tommy sigh heavily. "What is it?"

"It's just, I keep thinking about what nurse Lane said. Why would she say that? Why would she try to kill me? What did I ever do to her?"

You shook your head. "I don't know. Maybe she went crazy? I'd imagine losing a child might do that to a person."

"Something feels off about the whole thing, Y/n, I can feel it. Can't you?" He turned around to face you, a concerned expression on his face.

You frowned. Something did feel off, but you just figured it was the shock of the whole ordeal. Tommy was clearly not going to let it go so soon, but you weren't either. "You're right, but I don't know what it is." Tommy casted his pained gaze downwards, wincing at the oncoming headache in the back of his skull. "You should rest for a bit."

Tommy shook his head. "I'll be fine. Plus, lunch is in a couple minutes."

"Don't worry about that, I'll bring you something, okay?" You stood up, taking Tommy's hand in yours and bringing him to one of the beds in the main room of the infirmary. Tommy found that it was almost impossible to say no to you, and his head was killing him and figured some rest might do him some good before Color War started.

"Fine." He sighed, laying down on the bed. But before you could walk away, Tommy grabbed your hand. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" You smiled.

"Thank you. For doing this, and for having my back, back there."

You blushed, simply nodding in response, then turning to leave the building so that Tommy could rest. You were thankful he didn't mention that fact that you almost ran at Mary with the knife, maybe he didn't notice? That was probably a good thing.

You sat through Kurt's horrible speech about Color War, you honestly just wanted to get Tommy's food and get out of there, which you would've done if Cindy hadn't stopped you. "How is Tommy?" She asked.

"A little shaken up, a small cut on his head, but he'll be okay. He's just resting in the infirmary right now, I was gonna bring his lunch to him."

"Do you think that nurse Lane could've been on drugs?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "Uh, no? She seemed fine, but not high on anything."

"Do you think you could get the keys to her office? We might be able to find something that makes this make sense." You didn't really think Mary was on drugs, but Cindy looked so determined that you couldn't say no.

"I mean, I guess. But not right now. The first game is gonna start soon and I gotta make sure Tommy's okay." Cindy nodded reluctantly, letting you leave to go back to the infirmary.

You let yourself smile when you saw Tommy sleeping peacefully right where you left him, you almost didn't want to wake him, but you knew Kurt would be up your ass wondering where he was and why he wasn't working. "Tommy." You spoke softly, gently shaking him awake. He groaned slightly. "I know, but you gotta wake up. Gotta eat before Color War."

Tommy yawned as he sat up in the bed, giving you a sleepy smile as he took the plate of food from your hands, making your stomach flutter. "Thanks. I was actually having a nice dream."

You chuckled. "Sorry. What happened in this nice dream?" Tommy smiled to himself, causing you to roll your eyes. "Fine, don't tell me."

"Back in the mess hall..." Tommy voiced, "were you about to kiss me?"

Your face felt hot instantly, taken aback by his bold question. You were quiet for a moment, thinking of what to say. "Uh...maybe?" You stuttered, not sure if being a hundred percent honest was the right call. What if you were all wrong? What if Tommy didn't feel the same way?

"I was, uh, kinda hoping you were. Too bad nurse Lane interrupted...with a knife." You couldn't help but laugh, in turn, making Tommy laugh along with you. But there was a tense silence afterwards that had your heart racing, and his gaze on you wasn't making it any easier. "Ya know, I don't think anyone is gonna interrupt us now."

"And ya know, you still could be disoriented from that bump on your head." You joked.

"Maybe, or maybe I'm just stunned by your beauty."

"Gross." You replied, causing Tommy to laugh once more.

"No, but I'm serious. I think you're beautiful. I guess I thought there was no harm in trying." He huffed.

You ignored the rapid beating of your heart, sitting down beside Tommy, facing him with an anxious stare. This was far from your first kiss, but he was different, you actually liked Tommy and he seemed to actually like you too. You didn't want to mess this up.

You felt your heart jump when Tommy took hold of your wrist and pulled you closer so that you were face to face, so close you could feel his breaths mixing with yours. Your face felt like it was on fire as you looked into his eyes, his longing gaze back into yours so intense that you couldn't look away even if you tried. You were trapped, but you didn't mind.

You brought your hand up to his face, gently and slowly swiping away a strand of hair that covered his forehead. "You're beautiful too, ya know?" You chuckled breathlessly.

Tommy didn't respond, smiling softly as he looked down at your lips then back up to your eyes, leaning forward and rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, testing the waters to see if you'd back away, but you didn't. You closed the small gap between the two of you and connected your lips with his.

Tommy's lips were as soft as they looked, surprisingly soft. And he was so gentle, his soft but firm grip on your wrist moving up your arm to your shoulder, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as deepened the kiss slightly, sighing heavily through his nose as his tongue collided with yours for half a second. You didn't notice his other hand on your waist until he squeezed tenderly. The fact that you almost let out a moan at such a simple gesture made you pull away, even though it was extremely difficult.

Tommy grinned widely as you rested your forehead against his, though not the passionate of kisses, you still felt you needed to catch your breath. "Fuck..." You breathed.

"Exactly what I was thinking." You smacked his shoulder playfully, causing him to laugh. "Kidding, kidding. But, yeah...fuck, that was incredible."

Before you could say anything, you both heard the front doors to the infirmary open, and in came Gary. "Hey, you guys-" He froze, seeing the somewhat compromising position you both were in. "Am I interrupting something?"

You looked back at Tommy with an embarrassed smile, barely holding in your snickers. "Uh, yeah, kind of, buddy." Tommy replied with a chuckle.

"Well, whatever you guys are doing, it needs to wrap up cause Color War is gonna start in a couple minutes."

"Thanks, Gary." Tommy waved him away.

"Do you feel okay enough to do this?" You asked.

"I do now." He smirked. Tommy's head still hurt, but he figured it's nothing some aspirin can't fix.

After a couple more indulging kisses, you and Tommy finally left the infirmary to help get Color War started. You wished you could've actually worked with him, but you had a responsibility to the Sunnyvale team, unfortunately. But from the way Joan and Kurt were eyeing each other up, you figured you didn't have to take it super seriously. Plus, you still had to help Cindy with her "investigation."

"Y/n!" You turned to see Cindy, an expectant look on her face and holding out her palm. "Keys, please."

You rolled your eyes. "Right. I gave 'em to Tommy, come on." You led Cindy to over where Tommy was with some of the Shadyside kids, but you quickly noticed how he just seemed to stare off into nowhere. "Hey," You placed a hand on his shoulder, recoiling when he flinched, "are you okay?

"Yeah, are you okay, Mr. Slater?" A young boy, Jeremy, asked.

Tommy quickly gave a smile. "Yeah, yeah! I'm good. Just, uh, go plant the flag. Go Shadyside!" He clapped, his smile falling as soon as all the kids ran off. "Ugh, my head is throbbing. She must've gotten me pretty good." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

"I thought you said you felt better?" You scolded, gently patting his shoulder in comfort.

"Yeah, I did. Guess being out in the sun made the headache come back. But I'll be fine. What's up?"

"Well, Cindy-"

"I need the keys to the nurse Lane's office." Cindy interrupted.

Tommy wasn't too happy when you told him about what Cindy wanted to do, he clearly just wanted to just forget about the whole thing, but he decided to go along with it because you were a little curious about what Cindy would find (if she would find anything at all), and he just wanted to spend time with you regardless of the situation.

"Come on, let's just forget it." Tommy whined, an annoyed expression on his face as Cindy rummaged through Mary's desk drawers.

"Aha!" Cindy called out, holding up a small bottle. "No label, half empty; she was on drugs." She smirked smugly.

"Proud of yourself, huh?" You rolled your eyes.

"We'll just have to get these to the cops, and then they'll tell us what they..." Cindy trailed off, distracted by Tommy ignoring her and picking up a book. "What is that?"

"A deal was made with the Devil." Tommy started to read aloud, to which Cindy just rolled her eyes as he continued. "Sarah Fier cut off her wicked hand on Satan's stone in exchange for enteral life, scarring the soil beneath with the witch's mark. bringing darkness upon the land."

Talk about creepy...

All three of you snapped your gazes in the direction of where a sudden glass shattering was heard. "Did you hear that?" You nodded in response as you started to walk toward the noise, only for Tommy to hold his hand out for you to stop. "Stay back." You and Cindy stayed in the office as Tommy walked back into the main entrance room of the building. "Hello?" He called out. "Hello, is somebody in there?"

Tommy gasped when Alice came out of nowhere and scared him, laughing at his reaction. "You should've seen the look on your face!" She guffawed, high fiving her boyfriend, Arnie.

"Come on, that's not funny." Tommy said, placing a hand over his heart and taking a sigh of relief. Usually, Alice was fun, but since Tommy got attacked, you felt slightly protective and shot a weak glare at her.

"Sup, L/n, thought I saw you sneaking in here too. You here for the drugs too?"

"Um, no?"

"Figures, if you're hanging out with the likes of Cindy Berman and Tommy Slater." She teased.

"Alice?" Cindy called out. "What are you doing here?"

Alice smirked as she saw the pill bottle in Cindy's hand. "Well, it looks like we're here for the same thing. Must really want us to scrub those toilets."

"This isn't for you." Cindy stashed the bottle away in her bag.

"Woah, Berman. I didn't know you were into that kind of thing." Arnie teased.

"They're not for me. I'm giving them to the cops."

"Oh, yeah, the cops." Alice scoffed. "Yeah, right, of course. No, what are you talking about? Now you're gonna snitch on Mary too?"

"No...that's not-" Cindy stuttered.

Arnie suddenly grabbed the book that was in Tommy's hand, "This for the cops too?" He giggled, tossing it over to Alice when Tommy tried to snatch it back.

"She emerged from the meeting house," Alice started to read in an overly spooky voice. "one hand severed, lost forever. We hanged the witch, body chained and buried but without her hand, her grip on the land holds firm. Ooo!" She laughed. "This is Sarah Fier shit!"

"Alice, come on." Cindy sighed.

"When she is near, blood will fall, and the curse will last until body and hand unite." While Alice was reading, you noticed Tommy closing his eyes and rubbing the back of his head, taking a seat on one of the beds in the room. You sat next to him with a concerned look, silently asking him if he was okay, only for him to wave you off with a fake smile.

"Alice, it's Mary's diary. Let's put it back." Cindy nagged.

"It's not just a diary. It's a map. Crazy nurse Lane made a crazy map." Alice set the book down on the bed next to the one you and Tommy were sitting on, kneeling down to look over the supposed map. "It's camp, but looks like she drew all over it. 1666 Union."

"Union, that's Shadyside. I mean, the settlement before it was divided into Shadyside and Sunnyvale."

"Really?"

"If you went to class-"

"So, the camp is built in the same place as the settlement?" Tommy asked.

"Woah, look, Sarah Fier." Arnie pointed at an area of the map.

"You think that's her house?" Alice smirked.

"What's all those X's?" You noticed.

"Only one way to find out." Alice closed the book and snatched Cindy's bag and ran off with Arnie, stealing a flashlight as well.

"Ugh!" Cindy shouted, running right after them. "Alice, bring that back! What are you doing?"

"It's called fun, Cindy Berman! You used to have it, remember? We're gonna find you, Sarah Fier!" Alice yelled and ran into the woods with Arnie, causing Cindy to quickly call out to you and Tommy to follow them along with her, but Tommy was trialing behind.

"Why should we go?" You asked once you joined Cindy outside the building. "You're the one who wanted to tattle on nurse Lane anyway." You crossed your arms, looking unimpressed.

"You really expect me to go out into the woods by myself? With them? They have the only evidence that could tell us why nurse Lane attacked YOUR boyfriend." Cindy shouted, making your face feel like it was going to burst into flames.

"Wha-...What-"

"Gary told me what he saw in the infirmary earlier today. And I think a normal person would wanna know why their partner got attacked by a supposedly normal nurse."

"Well, we haven't actually-"

"Tommy!" Cindy called out, "Come on, they took everything!"

Tommy looked to you and shrugged, and thankfully, it didn't seem like he heard what Cindy said. But he threw on his red and black plaid coat and gestured for you to follow Cindy. Guess you didn't have a choice but to go on a wild goose chase in the woods...in the dark.

You liked the woods, you liked walking through the woods, but not at night when you could barely see anything. Tommy was right behind you the entire time, but you hated tripping over every root and stick in your path, but you soon realized that there were other things that made you wish you were alone in the woods.

Alice looked back at you, Tommy, and Cindy walking together and slowed down a little. As soon as you saw her smirk, you knew she was about to get real annoying. "So, Y/n." She started, and you motioned for her to continue, but you quickly regretted that. "You and Tommy fucking now, or what?"

You almost choked on your own spit, your eyes widening like a deer in headlights, and you didn't even dare to see what Tommy's reaction was. But from the way Alice was laughing, you gathered that he must've had the same expression.

"Alice!" Cindy scolded. "Don't be so rude!"

"What?" Alice whined. "They've practically been eye fucking each other since camp started. It's kinda obvious...no offense. So, are you, huh?"

You had no idea what to say, just like when Cindy called Tommy your boyfriend. You two just had your first kiss that day, you didn't have time to discuss labels. You looked to Tommy in slight panic, and you could tell he was bright red, even in the dark. You two locked eyes, and it was like a switch turned off in his brain, he went from panic to complete serenity.

"Yeah." He answered Alice, but still looking into your eyes. "We're together." He smiled softly, an expression of joy mixed with relief washing over each of you as he took the initiative to make it official. It might've been too early to label things, but you couldn't care less when just simply looking at him gave you comfort you haven't felt before.

"Gross." Alice teased, going back to taking to lead deeper into the woods.

Eventually, Cindy got really tired of all the wandering through the woods. "Alice! Come on, it's disgusting in here!" She complained. You would've felt the same way, but you were a bit high on serotonin from Tommy's words, and his hand that was interlocked with yours.

"We're close, Berman, hand in there!" Alice called back.

"Alice! I swear to God-" Cindy gasped as she got caught on a low hanging branch, ripping a hole in her polo shirt. "Shit! Oh, it's ruined now!"

"Woah, did Cindy Berman just swear?" Tommy voiced.

"You want me to murder you?" She spat back at him, turning around to keep following Alice.

Tommy shut his eyes tightly, letting out a quiet sharp exhale. "Hey, are you okay?" You asked, noticing how he looked, like he had a fever or something. "We can go back-"

"No, no." He interrupted. "I'm okay, I'm fine."

You didn't have a chance to respond before you heard Alice yell out. "Alice?" You heard Cindy call out. You and Tommy ran to catch up with them, well, you ran and Tommy speed walked.

When you finally caught up to Alice, she was climbing out of a giant hole dug in the ground. "Watch your step." She said annoyed, wiping off dirt on her legs.

"Jesus, is someone digging a grave?" You asked.

"Graves." Alice shined her flashlight around, the light exposing many more holes in the ground.

"Mary." Tommy voiced, "Hey, where's the-" Tommy looked around and picked up the book that Alice must've dropped. "The X's, look. Look." He flipped through some of the pages while you and Alice stood beside him, craning your heads over to look at the book. "She was marking where she dug."

Alice flipped some pages, back to the passage that she read before. "The curse will last until body and hand unite."

"Maybe Mary was looking for the hand, to end the curse?"

"Yeah, the curse that made her daughter lose her mind."

"Guys, come on." Cindy scoffed. "This is silly."

"Yeah..." Arnie drawled out. "I gotta piss." And then he turned away and walked off.

"Hey, let me see that." Alice tried grabbing the book back from Tommy, until Cindy snatched it.

"You can have it, but first give me the drugs."

You sighed, rubbing your forehead at her persistence. "Cindy, come on. Alice and Arnie took them and they're not going crazy. It's probably nothing."

"Yeah, well, nurse Lane seemed fine before, so it could take awhile for the drugs to take affect. And if Mary took them and went crazy, then those drugs are very dangerous."

"Oh my god!" Alice laughed bitterly. "What happened to you? You remember when we used to have fun? Before you became a snitch?"

"Just let it go already."

"Oh, that's easy for you to say. You lying fuckin' Brutus."

"I found it!" Arnie yelled, interrupted Alice and Cindy's little spat. "I found the witch's house."

Alice and Arnie quickly ran in the direction in the "witch's house", the rest of you following behind, less enthusiastically. "Was I the only one expecting, like, I dunno, a house made out of candy?" Alice giggled.

"Maybe there's candy down here?" Arnie pointed out stairs that must've led to a cellar of some sort.

"Hey, Sarah, you got any candy down there? We're high and hungry. Sarah Fier!" Alice yelled into the tunnel.

"Okay, we've seen enough." Cindy voiced.

"Alright, then, go home, Berman. I didn't march all the way out here for nothing, okay?" Alice flipped Cindy the bird, then started heading down into the tunnel.

"Are you crazy? Alice!"

"Jesus, Cindy," You started, "stop being so uptight." You sided with Alice on this, you didn't march all the way into the middle of the woods just to get eaten alive by mosquitoes, might as well explore a witch's house. You followed Alice, raising your brows once you saw the hanging animal skulls and recently lit candles.

"Someone's been down here." Alice called out, causing them to follow in after the two of you. "Like recently. Look at all this witchy shit."

While Alice, Arnie, and Cindy were exploring, you noticed that Tommy looked even worse. It worried you. His breathing was heavy and you could see a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead. You didn't follow as Alice found another room connected to the one you were in. "Tommy?" You reached out, causing him to flinch slightly. "That's it, we're taking you back to camp."

"No," Tommy exhaled, taking a seat on the ground. "I'm fine, I promise. I just need to sit for a minute. You go on ahead."

"Tommy." You gently scolded, kneeling down in front of him.

"Y/n, I'm fine." He gave you a weak, unconvincing smile, leaning forward to give you a chaste kiss. "Go on, make sure Cindy isn't pulling her hair out because of Alice. And you know, be careful."

You did not have a good feeling about any of this. You felt like you had a pit in your stomach, like something bad was about to happen. But maybe you were just being paranoid, all that talk of devils and witches getting to you. You really just wanted to stay with Tommy, but Cindy, no matter how annoying she could get, was your friend even after just a week of knowing her and you did want to make sure she was okay.

"The hell?" You voiced when you saw the large symbol engraved into the ground in the middle of the room.

"It's the witch's mark." Cindy said.

"Well, this has been lovely, but let's get outta here, Alice. I'm pretty sure Joan might have some weed if we pay her." Arnie said, turning back to leave the room.

"Uh, Y/n?" Alice called out. "Cindy. I need to show you something. Now." She pulled you both with her, lighting up stones with names carved into them. "Cyrus Miller. Billy Barker. Ruby Lane."

"Mary's daughter." You realized.

"Yeah. Isaac Milton, Harry Rooker. You don't have to go to fuckin' class to know those names."

"The Shadyside Killers."

"Yeah, except one." Alice pointed down at the name at the bottom of the stone, and once you saw it, your heart dropped.

"Tommy?"

"Come on, Alice, this isn't funny." Cindy said.

"What? You think I carved Y/n's boy toy's name into solid stone with my fingernails? Someone else did this."

It was a joke. It had to be a joke, right? There's no way, but why would someone carve every Shadyside killer's names into stone along with Tommy's? Maybe some Sunnyvaler did this to prank you. But this was too much of an elaborate prank for those airheads. Oh god, what was going on?

You, Cindy, and Alice quickly crawled back into the main room of the cellar, only to see Tommy grabbing a double sided axe, moving towards Arnie. "Tommy?" Arnie said before Tommy lodged the axe into his skull. You all screamed and begged for him to stop as he swung the axe into the poor boy's skull two more times.

"Tommy, stop!" You screamed, slightly stepping in front of Alice and Cindy, but it seemed that it was mistake. Tommy turned to the three of you, gripping his now blood covered axe and taking slow steps toward you.

It all happened to fast. You ducked as he swung at you, missing you by just an inch and almost hitting the girls. It gave Cindy and Alice time to run back into the room with the witch's mark, while you threw yourself to the other side of the room. But Tommy chose to follow the two girls, knowing that the room was just a dead end and they wouldn't be able to escape, and you couldn't let them die.

It was a split second decision, but you followed Tommy into the room, seeing him already trying to get to the girls through another secret crawlspace that led to another room. You heard Cindy scream, and you realized he had grabbed ahold of her leg. You quickly grabbed onto Tommy's leg, trying to pull him off of Cindy. Then, you suddenly felt the earth around you rumble and shake, the crawlspace caving in and leaving you separated from your friends. But, Tommy somehow made it out in time, and now you were stuck in the room with him.

"Tommy." You cried as he stood back up, his axe still in hand. And for a moment, you thought he would snap out of it, but he only advanced towards you and tried to swing.

You screamed as you crawled back into the main room of the cellar, trying to make your way up the steps as fast as you could. But Tommy was fast, he grabbed your ankle and pulled on it hard, causing you to fall on the hard stone steps. You definitely felt it dislocate, but that couldn't stop you. You kicked as hard as you could, your foot making contact with his face, but that only increased the pain that was already started to build up. Thankfully, Tommy recoiled enough that you could make it up the final steps and out into the woods.

The fresh air felt nice, giving life to your lungs after spending awhile in a musty basement. But that feeling was short lived. All the breath got knocked out of your body as you felt the handle of the axe hit you in the center of your back.

You managed to flip yourself over, staring up at your boyfriend in terror. This isn't him...

You rolled out of the way as Tommy swung the axe down at you, forcing yourself to your feet and trying to run as fast as you could, but the pain in your ankle was so bad and he was so fast.

You let out a silent scream as you felt the axe cut into your flesh, it was only a cut but it felt like you had been ripped apart slowly. You leaned yourself on a nearby tree, trying to catch your breath as the pain surged through you. "Please, Tommy..." You panted. You knew you weren't faster than Tommy, you weren't stronger than him, so all you had were your words. "This isn't you." You cried out as Tommy landed a punch on your cheek.

You tried to fight, kicking, punching, scratching, screaming, to no avail. You kicked at his hand and somehow managed to get him to drop his axe, but he had two hands and he started to use them to strangle you.

"To...mmy...!" You choked out, tears and blood running down your face as you had to feel the person you genuinely cared about slowly drain the life out of you.

You grabbed ahold of his arms, his strong arms that made you feel so safe whenever they were around you. His hands burned into your skin, and you couldn't help but think of how tenderly he touched you during your first kiss. You stared into his eyes, those bright blue eyes you could spend a lifetime getting lost in. But these eyes were empty, soulless, you couldn't find a single thing in them that told you that it was Tommy. This wasn't him...he'd never hurt you, not like this.

You whimpered as his grip got tighter, feeling the blood vessels in your eyes start to explode as your vision got hazy. You were lightheaded, barely able to keep your eyes open. But you had to say something, anything.

"I...I know this...isn't...you."

The last thing you saw was Tommy's cold, stoic gaze as you slowly died in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I'm crying my eyes out but that's okay.