#click definitely got the old man pjs i mean look at him

[sope-and-shine]

Lost and Found

-> Namjoon x Reader -> Soulmate!AU // Fluff -> 6.2k (This fic was at 6,199 before post, and I couldn’t let that happen) -> Summary: In a world full of soulmates and soul marks, you just had to get stuck with the dynamic duo. -> Warning(s): none // maybe just fluff

A/N: I suggested the name to Belle as I was drafting the post, and she said she’d sue me if I didn’t use it.

ALSO! A BIG BIG BIG THANK YOU TO BOTH @multycoloredtaco​ and @purpletigertaetae​ for reading this and giving me some really good feedback! I love you both SO MUCH!

* * *

Soulmates have always come in several different shapes and sizes. They’ve always appeared to each other in various ways. Your mother and father met by their own personal song that only the two knew of, one that played when they spared a thought to the other. Your aunt had found your uncle with a timer on her wrist, and your grandpa had the unfortunate fate of meeting your grandmother while catcalling her. According to him, it was a very eventful day, but at least her words to him finally made sense. Everyone in your family - besides your great aunt who hasn’t aged since the late 1890s - has had the amazing luck of finding their soulmate. Not everyone gets the luxury of being with their soulmate how they planned to. You’re actually friends with a shop owner who lost his soulmate about a year ago and hasn’t seen any color since. You honestly couldn’t imagine the pain he’s been through. Thankfully, your soulmate mark was not as painful.

It was just extremely annoying.

As a child, you never questioned the items that would appear in your room, thinking of them as odd gifts that your parents or your brother would leave for you. You were no stranger to finding a single sock under your bed, the occasional candy bar tucked away in your backpack, or the odd action figure that you would take to your brother thinking it was his. It wasn’t until the first homework assignment with ‘Kim Namjoon’ scrawled at the top that you began to think something wasn’t right. And that was only the beginning of what was to come. 

As the years went by, more and more random items began appearing in your room at your parents house, your dorm in college, and finally your very own apartment. Each item you placed in boxes under your bed as a way to keep a piece of him with you until you could find him. However, you never imagined how forgetful and chaotic your soulmate could really be. You have everything! Clothing items, more homework assignments, various books, glasses, baby photos, and you even have a random girl’s phone number! You were tempted to call her when you first found it, but you figured that would be too weird. Instead, you continued to organize everything under your bed in hopes of giving it all back to him when you would finally meet.

Of course, you were a victim to your soulmate mark as well. Many jewelry items had disappeared from your room without a trace as a result. Hoodies, stuffed animals, and even a bra that you could’ve sworn you put in your gym bag - part of you hoped he’d hide it away because not only was it a cute bra, it was also expensive. Recently though, you’ve both been a lot more responsible. You haven’t seen any new items appear in your apartment for almost a month, and with your soulmates track record of losing 11 items in one day, a month was a huge record on his part. But you were starting to miss the gifts that would give you clues to him.

After you found out what your soulmate mark really was, you started looking forward to what would be left in your room next. Of course, it wasn’t always a win on your part, and sometimes what he lost was very questionable, but it always made you laugh when another item appeared in your room. At first, it was weird to think about someone else’s stuff appearing in your room with no prior warning, but it made you feel special to know that he was ultimately giving you pieces of himself every time he let something out of his sight. They made your long days more bearable. It makes you wonder if he’s the type of person to shower you with gifts when you feel upset or just to show his affection when he felt it was necessary. Especially on a rough day like today.

There was nothing wrong with your job, you loved everything about it! Life as a lead optician was actually a very rewarding job in the end. Helping others choose the best glasses for their face and individual personalities was one of your favorite parts, you loved watching little old ladies try on vibrant, colorful frames to feel youthful. They’re always very excited to see clearly again. Then there are all the little kids who would sit down with you to get glasses for the first time, and the look on their faces when they finally got to see the world clearly was heartwarming. Their soft smiles and wide eyes filled with amazement always made you feel a little softer inside. However, not everyday was a good day, and today was really not a good day.

Everything was going perfectly fine until the 3:30 appointment showed up at 5:00 after the doctor had already left for the day and demanded to be seen. The doctor’s technician was so scared trying to explain to the patient that they’d have to reschedule their appointment, and the poor thing was just trying not to cry over the one person who couldn’t understand how society works. Obviously, as the lead optician on duty you took over, but this patient was one of the most inconsiderate people you’d ever had to deal with. Demanding to be seen, demanding to buy glasses with an old prescription, demanding to speak to a manager - which at this point was actually you, so done and done - and just cursing up a storm at you and your fellow coworkers who all tried to help explain. The whole ordeal just took way longer than it ever should have to deal with, and it probably took at least 25 years off of your life. 

“Why do people feel that they need to be rude to get what they want?” Soohyun had asked you, “Do they think it’ll just magically fix everything?” 

You had agreed, “It’s like they think you’re really just messing with them. Like, “Oh no, sir! You’re correct! I apologize for the inconvenience, let me pull that out of my ass for you!” Though maybe not appropriate for the work environment, you’d at least made her day just a little better with your humor. 

On days like today, a nice warm shower and a cuddle pile with all of the pillows and plushies that cover your bed made everything much better when nothing new appeared in your room. If the odd gifts the universe left from your soulmate couldn’t cheer you up, then you’d do it yourself. And that you did. Nothing felt better than the warm water washing away the day’s pain and suffering, the delicate fragrance of the coconut shampoo you splurged on easing your worries down the drain. The floral body lotion and leave-in-conditioner you’d bought on the same shopping excursion also help your body relax, their scents so intoxicating to you, that you almost topple over onto the tiled floor of your bathroom from the instant pleasure they pull from you. Instead, you make your way to your bed, adorned in your comfiest PJs and fluffiest socks.

However, you weren’t expecting to land on something so hard and uncomfortable when you plopped face first onto your sheets.

“What the heck?” Pushing yourself onto your knees and pulling back the covers, you find a small, golden trophy resting comfortably in the warmth of your sheets. On all sides it reads, ‘MNET Asian Music Awards’ with a small plaque reading, ‘2017 MNET Asian Music Awards: Artist of the Year’ at the bottom of one side. It takes you a moment to understand fully what you hold in your hands before it actually hits you.

Your soulmate is an idol.

A forgetful idol if he lost such an important award, but at least this gave you a lead as to who your soulmate is besides one of the most common surnames and a few measly pairs of mismatched socks.  

Setting the award to the side, you grab your phone from your nightstand and unlock it, clicking on your browser and typing away. You look up the artist of the year from 2017 and find the top result to be a boy band called BTS. According to Google’s nice little summary and AllKPOP’s top article, they seemed to be pretty famous. Of course, you’ve heard of them before, and if you heard one of their songs then there was a good chance you’d probably recognize it! But you’ve never really been one for boy bands. You were more into kdramas if you were to be completely honest, they’re definitely your guilty pleasure and way more your speed than handsome young men dancing on stage in front of screaming girls trying to get in their pants. Could you really blame them? No. Not at all. Given the chance, you’d take it, but it wouldn’t be anything special if it wasn’t your soulmate.

Your soulmate.

Namjoon.

Changing your question, you search for ‘Kim Namjoon BTS’. If he actually pops up, then that would mean you actually know who he is. 

Finding the nerve to press search, you are bombarded with three pictures above a description of him right off the bat - You hate to admit it, but soulmate or not, he’s definitely handsome. You click on a random site you hope will give you some useful information about the man who’s most likely your soulmate and are immediately redirected to something called K-Profiles. The site itself starts off with a group picture of all the members, followed by their names below it, and their social media handles under that. You’d have to look them up later.

The first member you come across is your soulmate himself. He has his blonde head resting on top of his arms with a soft, dimpled smile as he stares right back at the camera. Eyes locked onto his through the screen, you can feel your heart speeding up just from looking at him. You can’t help but smile back at him as if he can actually see you. As if he were right there ready to come out and say ‘hi’. 

He’s absolutely breathtaking, and it isn’t even him.

You continue your hunting, scrolling further down to learn as much as you can about him. How old he is, when he was born, where he was born, what his favorite color is, you want to know it all! You learn that he’s the leader of the group, that he used to be known as Rap Monster before he changed it - that USB in the box under your bed made a lot more sense now. You learn that he has a sister, and that he and his band members are advocates for UNICEF, and that this man was so incredibly intelligent yet also known as the ‘god of destruction’ to those around him. But also listed on his profile is his soulmate mark. 

“As said in a V-Live where RM explained a stuffed animal he kept on his desk, anything RM loses will appear with his soulmate and vice-versa. He has yet to meet his soulmate.” You read. You’ve lost quite a few stuffed animals to Namjoon, hopefully, it wasn’t an embarrassing one that would haunt you later.

You come to the end of his profile and to the top of another handsome man, yet you don’t scroll down. You haven’t learned enough. You need to know more about him, about how you can meet him. You have to know more! And that’s how you find yourself still up at 5am the next morning still wide awake watching yet another video interview of your soulmate just to hear his voice. A part of you is embarrassed for staying awake all night for some guy, but another part of you can’t let it go when you’re so deep already. 

* * *

You called into work after your late night-early morning escapade, telling them you caught something from one of your friends and wouldn’t be in for the next few days. There was no way you were going anywhere with the sleep you just got, and it wouldn’t be fixed in one day either. Even after sleeping the morning away you were still tired from your late night-early morning endeavor. It’s not like you really cared though, you had just found out who your soulmate was. And unlike a lot of other people in the world, you had an entire collection of videos dedicated to just your soulmate and his passion.

It didn’t take long for you to dig your nose back into the screen of your phone just to watch him make that gorgeous, dimpled smile. There were so many videos where he talked about you, sharing some of the items you had lost with his fans like they were his best friends. He looked so proud to be showing off your things, and the look in his eyes when he’d get lost in his own thoughts just looking at them made your heart melt.

You’d heard your mom and dad talk about how happy they were to have a special song just for the two of them. Your mom used to tell you all about the day your father tracked her all the way from the grocery store, pushing through the crowd like a love interest in a kdrama because he heard her humming their song to herself. At a young age you always thought it was sweet and wanted to meet your soulmate just like your mom had, but you eventually realized as you got older that a strange person following you home is not something you want. However, now you kinda wished it could work like that, seeing that your soulmate was practically untouchable. 

Of all the people in the world, you just had to get stuck with a celebrity with millions of girls from all over the world fawning over him. Getting chased in the streets must be on this guy’s workout regimen by now! How were you supposed to get anywhere near him without spending over $1,000 just to look at his face?

“How much are those fan-meet things?” You ask yourself aloud. Innocent enough, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the entire process that came with going to just one fansign. This wasn’t something you could just buy a ticket for. No. You had specific steps that you had to follow or you wouldn’t even stand a chance. There were so many steps that you were tempted to just find his company and blast music until security came to take you away. Maybe you’d at least get to meet him when they filed a restraining order.

No. You HAD to meet him. You haven’t saved all of his lost things just for you to chicken out now.

So, you made a fancafe account and waited for their next promotion to purchase an album, you waited for the lottery winners to be announced, and you almost doubled over when you saw your name on the list from the store. You thought 3 months was long enough, but the 24 hours before the event were the longest hours of your life. So long that you couldn’t even sleep!

That’s where the wrench comes in.

You hadn’t meant to stay up so late at all, but you were really excited to finally meet the man that’s been losing everything he touches - especially now that he’s started losing air pods under your bed. So, when you woke up at 10:30am for the fansign that started at 11, you knew you’d messed up. 

You messed up bad. 

Of all the irresponsible things you could’ve done, staying up late was not the one you should’ve chosen to do. Now, you’d have to wait even longer to see him. Maybe the universe was right to give you both the worst soulmate mark known to man.

It wasn’t like waiting for the next fansign was bad, but it wasn’t the best either. Everyday that passed was another day that you had to watch him through a screen. Seeing his dimpled cheeks smile at the camera - at you - making your heart race. He was so close to you, but he was so out of reach. When the next fansign did come around, you had to make sure you made it on time so you could see it in person for yourself.

That’s what you told yourself.

To your credit, you almost did do that! But you had no idea there would be so much traffic. Not only that, but you’d tripped and dropped the box of things to return to him on the street and had to pick it up before anyone saw what it was you were holding. Because of those small issues, you made it to the venue five minutes after they had closed the doors. 

“Please, I’m only five minutes late!” You beg, breathing heavy and labored. You stare at the worker just doing her job with high hopes that she would have some sort of empathy for you, but her face showed no remorse.

“If you wanted to be let in, then you should have been on time.” She scolds, closing the doors on you and leaving you outside to wallow in self pity once more. 

At least the first time you’d messed up you were in the comfort of your own home where you could cry over your failure. Now, you were left in the open for everyone to see your mistake. You were so close too. He was just behind the doors. Waiting to see the adoring faces of his fans that you should be a part of. 

Yet you’re on the streets.

* * *

“Don’t you think you’re going a little overboard?” 

“What makes you say that?” You turn to your friend from your seat on the ground outside of the shop you’d purchased your album from, dressed in a light hoodie with a coffee in your hand. The light of day just peaking through the cracks between the buildings as the street lamps turn off for a new day. 

At this point in your journey to meet your soulmate, you weren’t going to take any more chances. The store didn’t open for another 3 hours, and the event started an hour and a half after that, but you were going to be sure you had your ticket and made it to the venue on time. You didn’t care how early you were, you were going to see Namjoon if it was the last thing you did.

The poor, tired woman seemed to pick up on your indifference to your change in behavior and sighs, “Nothing in particular. I’m just concerned that maybe you’re taking this to the extreme now.”

“I’ve tried and failed three times already, Bomi. I cannot miss another chance to meet them!” You explain, taking a sip from your warm cup.

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you that they’re just a boy band and you shouldn’t get so excited over them. They all have soulmates anyways.” Of course she didn’t know that you were going because one of them was your soulmate, but you couldn’t risk anyone finding out and telling your soulmate before you could tell him. 

“I know that, but it’s worth it!” All the hours you’d spent waiting, watching their new content, reading their tweets and various posts from other social media wishing you could see him in person for just a moment. This was the fourth attempt, and you didn’t want to continue this cycle of hit and miss. “I’m not missing it this time.”

“Well, waiting outside of this shop so early just to get a ticket that’s already yours is absurd!” 

“You didn’t have to come with me.” You grumble. It wasn’t like you didn’t know that. You were very much aware of the fact that it was insane. It was something you thought about every time you failed to make it into the venue! Having her reiterate what you already knew did not make it any easier.

However, your acquaintance wasn’t having your response, “I did. You blackmailed me into coming with you so you’d actually do it right, remember?”

The vague memory of sending her an embarrassing picture you had as a way to convince her to come flashes through your mind. So maybe your methods were unconventional, but they worked. “That’s not important!” 

You both continue to wait by the store’s entrance, making light conversation as more people begin to show up for their own tickets. Of course, you knew they’d be here, that’s why you left extra early to be there first. It was a good thing you did too, because as the time ticked on and the line grew longer, it became obvious a lot of fans had purchased their albums from the same store you had. Even as the store owner arrived to start their day, not at all surprised by the line that had formed for them, there were still fans lining up for their tickets.

But in the end, you were first to arrive and receive your ticket, and that made you one of the first to the venue.

“Alright, we made it. This is where I leave you.” Bomi hikes her bag further onto her shoulder and turns to face you one last time before she leaves, “Don’t make a fool of yourself in there. And do not show them your airpod collection!”

‘Oh, I’m returning the airpod collection…’ You think to yourself, sending a quick wave goodbye to her.

Waiting for the doors to the venue to open didn’t take as long as you’d thought it would - security check taking even less time. You found your seat pretty easily as well, being placed on the left side of the empty table in the middle of the sea of chairs. Taking the time you have while everyone finds their seats, you take a peek inside of the box you’d brought to grab your album and just look at everything you’d brought to begin their return to Namjoon. You made sure to bring every pair of air pods you had found - and hadn’t sold on eBbay - a few old homework assignments, USB’s, pictures he’d taken through his pre-debut, and the trophy he’d misplaced that lead to your discovery.

Hopefully his band members wouldn’t be too upset with him.

You’d learned a lot about each of them over the two years you’ve spent trying to meet with Namjoon. So many times you’d been tempted to put yourself on the fan page or DM them on Twitter, but you were too afraid of being drowned out by other ARMYs or one of the other boys blocking you before Namjoon could see. No doubt they each probably had hardships of their own trying dodge fans claiming to be their soulmate. Watching as they each come to the stage individually, you could see why anyone would lie to call them theirs. You couldn’t deny how handsome they all were - you’d be lying to yourself if you said you thought they weren’t handsome - but no one could compare to your Namjoon.

If you get the opportunity to meet his stylist, then you’re going to give her the biggest hug for making him look this amazing! It was just a plain white, button down shirt tucked into a black pair of dress pants, but the top two buttons of his shirt undone and the grey, satin suit jacket with the addition of black, square glasses and his brown hair neatly parted to the left make him look like a god - should they exist. He takes your breath away, even if you’ve seen every picture and fancam you were able to find. The universe really said, “this one deserves the best” and threw you the biggest catch out there. You could only hope he enjoyed the simple pair of jeans and pastel yellow sweater you’d thrown on for the occasion.

It takes a while before they begin the meet and greet part, the boys introducing themselves and asking questions, letting their fan sites take pictures before they turn their attention to the individual fans as they pass them. With every moment that passes by, every row you watch stand and enter the line to the stage, you become more and more nervous. Of course, you knew your soulmate was truly Namjoon, but you were still terrified to reveal that truth in front of everyone. You’d seen a few announcements regarding the boys and their soulmates, talking about how their respective soulmate would be treated like another one of the boys and would be protected by BigHit as soon as they were found. You knew you’d at least have his company behind you, but…

What about his fans?

You can’t help but fester in your own thoughts, letting them consume you even as you make your way into the line with your box. You try your best to muster up the courage you need, but the looming presence of the table getting closer and closer makes your breathing harder. All you need to do is remain calm. They were just people.

The people who’ve spent almost 7 years with your soulmate.

And your soulmate himself.

No biggie.

“Ma’am.” The voice of the staff keeping the line interrupts your internal panic, pulling you back to reality. He points to the table where an excited Taehyung smiles eagerly at you with an empty space in front of him. “You’re next.”

“Yes! Thank you.” Reeling from embarrassment, you quickly kneel down to the space in front of the table. You give a small bow and hand over your album to the boxy-smiled boy in front of you, your hands shaking from how nervous you are. All you had to do was make it through 5 more boys and you’d meet your soulmate. 

5 more people....

...and you’d meet your soulmate.

A hand lands on top of your own, “There’s no need to be nervous!” Taehyung is bright and happy, calmly running a thumb over the back of your hand as he uses the other to sign your album. His eyes shift from you to the paper and back to you, “You’re doing great~”

You felt a little bad for probably ignoring him. He must’ve been trying to introduce himself when he’d noticed you’d spaced out yet again. Yet here he was, acting as though it wasn’t even that big of a deal. Of course, he still had about 50 more people or so to have a minute conversation with, but he genuinely seemed to care. It made you feel more confident.

“Thank you.” You say, a smile gracing your lips. You were still nervous, but at least now you felt calm and somewhat collected to at least make it through the other members. You move onto Yoongi, then to Jeongguk, to Jin, to Jimin, and then to Hoseok. Once again, you’re feeling a little guilty about the time you spend with him. It wasn’t like you weren’t excited to be in front of him, but your soulmate was less than 2 feet away from you looking like he walked out of a Vogue photo shoot with a happy little smile on his face. Hopefully, if all goes well you can apologize to him for being distracted.

The staff moves everyone along and your time finally comes. You bid Hoseok a quick thank you and goodbye and move yourself in front of Namjoon, his box tucked close to your body as a way to keep you grounded. 

Namjoon takes your album from Hoseok before he turns his full attention to you, his dimples that you’d been obsessed with since you’d first seen them making an appearance. His dark brown eyes stare into your own, “Hi, what’s your name?”

You’re so entranced by the man in front of you that you almost don’t respond. You manage a quiet, “(Y/n)...” But you’re so stunned and breathless that you think about repeating it just to make sure he hears it.

“Really?” He asks. His eyes widen for just a moment, and you know he recognizes it from a homework assignment or a book you’d probably lost with your name in it. You watch his shoulders as they tense and then relax as if they’d never lifted in the first place. “I really like that name. It’s one of my favorites.”

You watch him turn to the album in front of him, looking for the page you’d like him to sign. Being in front of him now, you feel your confidence grow. You can’t help yourself, “Really? Is there a reason?”

“I’ve just always liked the name.” He says, looking up momentarily with a tight smile. He probably didn’t want to be too obvious about his soulmate - well, you - so fans wouldn’t go looking for you. That must be the one downside to the life of an idol. You watch him carefully, taking in the way he handles your album with care. You watch him flip through pages, his smile slipping for a confused frown. He looks at you, “You don’t have a question for me?”

You jump at the sudden realization that you hadn’t given him the box yet, “No! I do…” This was it. You look from him to the box you’ve clung onto for two years, “It’s inside the box.”

Carefully, you slide the box forward, feeling the nerves you’ve been feeling all day spring to life. He takes it from you with a grateful smile, probably expecting a bear or something you’d made yourself just for him. But judging by the look on his face, you can tell he wasn’t expecting to find the objects in front of him. His shocked face makes you chuckle.

“I’ve always wondered how one person can lose so many things. I understand homework and socks, the airpods, but an entire trophy, Namjoon? How do you lose a trophy?” You ask. You wait for an answer, but he looks as if he’s completely shut down. His jaw hangs open ever so slightly, and his eyes are wide in disbelief. You see a glisten in his eyes and your amusement turns to worry, “Are you okay?”

The leader turns to you, glistening eyes staring into your own. His mouth opens and closes and it looks like he’s trying to find the right words to say, “I-...I don-...oh my god, you’re actually here.”

You watch as the shine in his eyes turn to tears that slowly roll down his cheeks, his mouth struggling to decide if he wants to frown or smile. You’re more worried than anything, “Wah-! Don’t cry! Why are you crying?!” You reach for his hands that still rest on the sides of the box, mimicking what Taehyung had done for you when you first stepped up to the table. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. You’re still confused if he himself is happy or not, trying to make sense of why he’s crying when he just met you. You watch his eyes drift over you with an unclear expression. Was he happy? Was he sad? Were you supposed to be reacting the same way?

“You’re beautiful…” He says, teary eyes meeting your own.

“So are you.” You respond. It’s only after the words fall from your mouth that you realize what you said and you try to correct yourself, “Handsome! I meant to say you’re handsome! You’re very attractive in a very masculine way, but that’s not to say you don’t express femininity well when you choose to and you look good all the time and-” Amidst your struggle for the correct words, he’d begun to laugh at your own expense. Not how you imagined this meeting to go, you shrink back to your side of the table, “I’ll just stop talking.”

“No! Please, keep talking.” He begs, moving forward to come closer to you. He pulls on your hands that still connect across the table, squeezing to reassure you that he still wanted you to be near him. It felt so nice to have him hold your hands, so nice and comforting, that you must’ve missed the glistening in your own eyes, “Now you’re crying!”

Your hands pull from his to hide your face, “No I’m not, it’s just raining inside!” 

As you try to wipe away your tears, you hear the voice of Jimin call over the speakers just off to the side of the table, “You’re not supposed to make the fans cry!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon defends. In all fairness, you did make him cry first, so this was probably fair.

Hoseok claps his hands together, his voice just subtly coming through the speakers as well, “This is so sweet! We’re all witnessing two soulmates meet for the first time!” 

“It’s like a movie, but without the flower petals.” Taehyung adds, having a mic of his own on his side as well.

“Miss.” Another staff member appears next to you, only this time they’re offering a hand and a smile, “Could I have you come with me?”

You’re nervous at first, not sure if going with this staff member would be the best idea. However, the presence of Namjoon’s hand on your own once more draws your attention to his heartwarming smile, “It’s okay.”

You nod and stand, allowing the staff to lead you behind the table and into the hallway to a waiting area. They have you sit on the couch, assuring you that Namjoon and the others would be there to see you soon. This at least gave you a moment to collect your thoughts and come to the realization that you really just met your soulmate after so much hard work to get there. You’d thought plenty of times that you’d regret trying to meet him this way, but now you couldn’t be more elated that you actually got to speak to him and hold his hands. You made him cry - what were hopefully - tears of joy! Even as their manager sits down to make small talk with you while you wait for the end of the fanmeet, you can’t help but to feel as if you’re on cloud 9. 

It’s not too long until you hear that the meeting has come to an end, making your heart rate speed up. Once again, you take a deep breath in and let it out, preparing yourself to face Namjoon again. Only when he does come in, you both just stare at one another. Him from the doorway with his members waiting behind him and you from your spot on the couch. You’d already met, you’d already held hands, but this...he was right there.

“Well, are you going to talk to her or just look at her?” Jin asks, a mischievous smirk gracing his features as he stares at the younger.

It would seem that the small jab at the leader was all he needed to push himself forward, legs moving swiftly across the room in long strides just so he can reach you. You stand, intending to meet him halfway, but he’s already pulling you into a much needed embrace before you even get the chance. His arms wrap over your shoulders, caging you close to his chest as he leans down to rest his head on your own. He smells so nice, and his embrace is so warm, they almost distract you from the wetness you feel on top of your head.

“Namjoon…?” You ask, worried you might make him cry more by asking.

The man himself pulls back, quickly moving to wipe his tears as if he hadn’t already cried in front of you already, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s cute.” You assure him. You look down, feeling a bit embarrassed yourself, “Much cuter than showing up to your fansign with a bunch of your things.”

“How long have you known?” He asks.

“2 long and painful years.” You sigh. Thinking back on everything you’ve done since discovering who and where he was, you can’t help but be thankful it worked out this time around, “I’ve tried coming to a fan sign 3 times before this.”

“Couldn’t win a ticket?” Jeongguk asks from the side, a bottle of water in his hands.

Your sheepish smile turns into a strained one, “Yeah...we’ll go with that.”

Yoongi seems to pick up on your change in attitude, “Don’t tell me…” 

“No wonder the universe put them together, they’re a match made in heaven!” Jin laughs, the sound being much more entertaining in person. The other members of BTS continue to talk amongst themselves, discussing the scene before them as well as how exciting the day had been. But Namjoon, instead, focuses all of his attention on you.

“Please tell me you’re free for the rest of the day.” 

For once, you were more than happy to use your holiday time, “I’m free for the rest of the weekend.”

“Good.” He says, giving you another look at his beautiful, dimpled smile.

“Good...”

* * *

“So, what’s in the box?” 

[platonicteenwolf]

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Pt I

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: So it was really difficult to figure out a plot without giving the reader any specific characteristics and still have a character arc. This post will talk more about what those are but I’m trying my best to keep it as neutral as possible :)

They/Them Pronouns Version

He/His Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

On the rural outskirts of a small California town called Beacon Hills, police officers and state troopers gather on a dirt road. At their sides, search dogs bark and whine, pulling their leashes taut. One by one, the officers click on flashlights and then glance to the lead for his signal. Finally, he gives a nod. Seconds later, a dozen streaks of light tear through the shadowy woods. A desperate search begun...

—————

*Bang Bang Bang*

“Stiles? What do you want?” I groaned. Rolling over in bed, I checked the time on my alarm clock. 2 AM.

“Y/N, Y/N, come on get up!” Stiles opened my door and walked into my room. “Come on, my dad got a call let’s go! Also - put some clothes on you looks stupid.”

I looked down at my pajamas with confusion. “What’s wrong with Hello Kitty Pjs?”

“Nothing- just- come on!”

I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a different outfit, grabbed my bag, then walked out of my room.

—————

Not far from those dense woods, a two-story home lies hidden under a canopy of trees. A gentle wind drifts into the open window of an upstairs bedroom where two hands thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. The work is fast and precise, fingers pulling each lace into a diamond mesh pattern.

Knotting the last loop, sixteen year-old Scott McCall stands with the re-threaded stick. Scooping a ball up from his bedroom floor, he gives the lacrosse stick a spin, testing his handiwork. A moment later, the re-threaded stick lands on his bed as Scott walks towards his bathroom door frame to do a few pull-ups.

After brushing his teeth, Scott looks up meeting his eyes in the mirror but he stops when he hears a sound coming from his window. Under the whispering wind, he hears rustling in the leaves outside.

Downstairs, the glass door to the porch slides open. Now armed with a baseball bat, Scott starts for the yard. Breath held tight, he moves cautiously off the porch steps. The sound of movement stops him cold.

Holding still, he peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. When his eyes wander up to the side of house he sees--

Before Scott even knows what’s happening, the figure breaks free from the trellis and comes hurtling toward him. He hollers in terror as an upside down face appears in front of him. He almost swings the bat before realizing who it is.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!”

“You weren’t answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?”

“I thought you were a predator!”

Feet caught in the trellis, Stiles hangs in front of Scott. A sixteen year-old with boundless energy, he continues talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation. He sputters out fragments of words like Scott just accused him of being crazy as he continues his explanation.

“I know it’s late, but you gotta’ hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police.”

“For what?”

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

Stiles then jumps down from the trellis and lands perfectly on his feet like it was the easiest thing in the world. Scott seems shocked to hear this news. A body? In Beacon Hills?

“A dead body!?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

As Scott takes a step back on his porch, Stiles takes this opportunity to jump over the railing now standing in front of his best friend.

Scott, still lost on the entire situation, asks “So, you mean like murdered?”

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?”

A now, extremely excited Stiles tells Scott, “That’s the best part. They only found half.” He looked like a child that just found the secret stash of candy in the cabinet. “We’re going”

“But- what- no way man, sophomore year starts tomorrow! I’m trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow! Why can’t you take Y/N?”

—————

After hopping over to the drivers side of the car I watched Stiles unsuccessfully climb towards Scott’s window and then fall while almost getting hit by a bat after scaring Scott.

As the two screamed at each other after getting startled all I could do was shake my head. “Dumbasses,” I muttered.

After the pair talked for a bit I heard my name being said and promptly tuned into the conversation.

“Why can’t you take Y/N?”

“Oh I did, she’s waiting in the car. You’re coming too.”

As Stiles gestured towards where I was sitting, I waved at Scott. He seemed unhappy being woken up so early. I wonder why?

—————

As we pulled up to the woods, Stiles’ beat-up jeep skids to a halt just beyond the heavily forested entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles rushes out with a flashlight in hand, eager to start the search.

“Are we seriously doing this” Scott opens the door to the jeep and steps out of the way so I could crawl out of the back where I’d been sitting.

“You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles starts to jog towards the hiking paths, ready to find the body as Scott and I hurry to keep up. “And what was that excuse about wanting to sleep before practice tomorrow? I guess sitting on the bench must be such a grueling effort.”

“Oh come on Stiles, he’s been practicing!” I retort, trying to defend Scott. I mean sure, his skills aren’t that good but at least he’s got the spirit.

“Thank you Y/N, see someone believes in me. Anyways, I’m gonna be playing this year. In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey! That’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one.” I smacked him on the arm and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say “Huh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And uh, what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?” Scott continued

“Also something I didn’t think about,” he admitted

Rolling my eyes I teased, “Do you ever use that brain of yours Stilinski?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as we start climbing up a steep hill.

“It’s- comforting to know you’ve- planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Racing up the paths, Scott’s breath begins to shorten. “Maybe the uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight huh?” He leans back against the tree pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and begins to shake it.

I look towards him with concern “You okay?” He nods his head at me as Stiles continues ahead, but then slows down but not because of Scott. As we crest the hill, Stiles jumps down to the ground laying on his stomach. As I approach next to him he grabs my arm and tugs me to the floor, then Scott joins us as we look towards the clearing ahead. Below, flashlight beams scour the shadows, the police search just ahead. Unable to stand still, Stiles races forward.

“Stiles, wait up!” But quickly running out of air, Scott pulls his inhaler from his jacket. While he pauses to take a hit from it, I look towards where Stiles ran off to and realize he’s disappeared up ahead. The sound of barking breaks the silence and my head snaps towards where it came from. Scott and I start to walk forwards to investigate where the sound came from.

—————

Fanged teeth snapped ferociously at Stiles, sending him staggering away and falling right onto his ass. Search dogs yank back against their leashes just before tearing him apart.

“Stay right there!”

—————

I freeze, thinking I’ve been caught. It’s not me the State Trooper was yelling at, however. Up ahead I see Stiles sitting on the ground surrounded by officers. I drag Scott behind a tree and push him up against the bark to hide from the numerous officers just a few meters away. Peering out from behind the tree, Flashlight beams in his eyes, Stiles puts his hands in the air as large, threatening figures hurry forward. “Shit, they got him,” I mutter under my breath. I look up at Scott and see his worried expression. He was about to say something when suddenly we hear,

“Hang on, hang on, this little delinquent belongs to me.” Oh thank god, Uncle Noah’s there.

He’s not really my uncle, I just call him that because he used to be my dads best friend so I’ve known him my whole life.

Sheriff Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles seems to shrink under his glare. He’s definitely about to get it.

“Dad, how ya doing?”

“So, do you ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No... Well, not the boring ones.”

Sheriff Stilinski nods his head, seemingly thinking over the punishment Stiles is about to get. “So, where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow,” Stiles paused, catching his breath. “It’s just me, in the woods, alone...”

“Scott? You out there?” Sheriff Stilinski waved his flashlight, looking at all the surrounding trees. Hidden in the shadows, I look up at Scott, still pushed up against the tree and mouth to him “Don’t move”

“Come on Stiles, I know you’re not out here alone. Is it Y/N? Oh don’t tell me you’ve dragged her into this.” He looks back out towards the woods where Scott and I are hiding. “Y/N? Y/N/N, come on I know you’re out there.”

I look up at Scott and give him a reassuring nod. Stepping out from behind the tree, I look at Noah and walked towards him, giving a little wave. “Hey Uncle Noah, how are you tonight?”

“Oh come on.” He ran his hand over his face in a tired manner. I felt bad, he was probably stressed and we weren’t helping. “I expected better from you with this! And Stiles,” he turned pointedly towards the young boy, “quit corrupting her! She’s been living with us for all of five months and you kids are already sneaking off!”

“Well to be fair dad we used to sneak off before she lived with us too.”

For the second time tonight I smacked him on the arm followed with a pointed look. “You’re not helping the situation right now Stiles.” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my right ear and glanced to my side to see Uncle Noah holding Stiles and I by our ears walking towards the rest of his unit.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” we both yelped.

“All right, you two, I’m taking you back to the car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy.”

—————

Watching Stiles and Y/N get escorted away, Scott steps out from the cover of the trees with an irritated sigh. Starting back, he tries to find his way out of the woods, but with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch black.

At a fork in the path, he pauses in confusion. He’s about to start off down one direction when he hears shuffling footsteps in the distance. Scott holds still. Breath tightening more from fear than asthma, he reaches into his pocket for his inhaler when a herd of wild deer charge out of the darkness, soaring past him with the thunderous beat of hooves trampling the ground.

Startled, Scott drops the inhaler on the forest floor. Then, once again alone in the dark, he kneels down to the leaf-covered ground to search for the inhaler. Pulling out his cell phone, he turns on the flashlight. Guiding the phone’s light over the ground, Scott doesn’t find his inhaler but does manage to briefly illuminate... a face?

Dead eyes peer up from the pale, yet beautiful face of a young woman torn in half. Crying out in shock, Scott lurches up, tripping on his own feet and tumbling over the unearthed roots of a tree. Suddenly, he’s propelled down a leaf-covered slope, rolling head over heels right ditch.

Pushing himself up with a nearby fallen trees, a breathless Scott looks up at the embankment down which he just fell. He’s about to stand when a low, earthy growl stops him moving. Stops his breathing. Something crouches in the shadows right near him. Something, very large. Scott slowly begins to turn around when the shape hurtles towards him. For the briefest instant there’s a flash of razor-sharp teeth. Scott twists forward, crying out. Then, seeming to disentangle himself from the attacking animal, he scrambles back to his feet and into a panicked run.

Whipping through branches tearing at his skin and clothes, he races blindly through the forest slipping on the wet leaves from earlier’s rain. Crashing out of the woods and into the road, Scott whirls around to face an oncoming car. The driver swerves, almost clipping him. Horn blaring, the car hurtles past.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

No Secrets In Paris

Requested by @caco-ethes

Can we get some back story to no secret in the gun like the mission where Steve x reader pretend to be a couple?

This is set before No secret in the gym requested by @boredom1738 that you can read here. No secrets in the gym

All you wanted was to sleep, Tony set a mission briefing for 8am to discuss whatever part of the world needed the avengers. Well they would have to wait until after 11am if it was up to you.

Curling up in the chair still in your PJs unaware of the eyes on you. Steve had it bad and Bucky wouldn’t let him forget it.

“Seriously punk, this is just sad.”

Painfully pulling his gaze away from you, to his best friend, pretending he had no idea what he meant. But Steve has never been a good liar, and if anyone could see through him it was Bucky.

“You’re giving her heart eyes, just tell her you love her already.”

Bucky scoffed, how dare he play dumb, he’s known the punk for 70 plus years, he knows when his friend was taken by a dame.

“Look, do whatever you want. But just remember, in this line of work. You might not have forever to tell her.”

Tony walks in, leaving Steve to replay Buckys words, he was right. Shooting a quick look back to you, practically drowning in the large hoodie you stole from Sam. Reining in his jealousy the best he can, he wanted you to be drowning in his clothes. Not anyone else’s.

It’s only when Tony says your name that Steve pulls out of the images in his head.

“Y/n and Bucky, you’re going undercover as a married couple, so try and thaw out that heart of yours okay, tinman.”

No, you and Bucky. Married! No he won’t have it. But he also doesn’t know how to say it. Luckily his friend has his back.

“Actually why doesn’t Steve go under with her, they’ll look better together.”

While Steve was internally jumping for joy. You were dying inside. No, why did it have to be Steve, it was hard enough to hide your feelings for him, now you have to pretend to be married. This will be hell.

Burying your nose in the files containing the mission details, you miss the smile Steve was desperately trying to hide. Mary and Joe Zeus were your targets. They ran Zeus enterprise, a major tech company that was selling false information that’s getting people killed. The mission is to download the plans from Joes computer as proof of their dealings.

“Good idea Barnes, Rogers, Y/L/N you head out to Paris tomorrow.”

——

Here you were, dressed in a red, floor length Dress, a high slit up your right leg the back scooping low showing almost your entire back. Big diamond ring on your left hand.

You didn’t see Steve freezing in his step at the sight of you. He’s never seen you in a dress, you were gorgeous. All he wanted to do was keep you here to himself. But for the moment, the mission comes first. That still won’t stop him from telling you how amazing you look.

Escorting you, like the gentleman he is. Your hand tucked into the crook of his arm. To the busy ballroom. Mingling with the tech moguls, Steve’s arm hasn’t left your waist all night. Protectively pulling you closer when men’s gaze lingers to long. eyes scanning for the other couple. Pulling Steve back by his arm when you noticed something.

“He’s not wearing his ring, his wife isn’t here.”

“Well what’s the plan now?”

He mumbled, steering you to the other end of the bar, his hands practically dwarf the champagne flutes he grabbed on the way over.

“The old fashioned way, stay here I’ll meet you back at the room.”

Fluffing your hair one last time, slipping the ring off your finger. You know it’s fake but you felt almost wrong handing it back to him.

Swaying your hips, pulling your red lips into what you hoped was a seductive smirk. Sliding next to Joe.

You knew how to get a mans attention, of course not the man you want, but this will do. Men like him wanted to be the night in shining armor, so you’ll be the damsel in destress. Pouting out your bottom lip when you failed to flag down the bartender, which Joe noticed and yelled to the bartender.

“Champagne for me and the lady.”

Steve watched from across the room as the man shamelessly flirts with you. He married he shouldn’t even be looking at another woman, he will never understand this generation. He could practically feel everyone’s eyes on you, and he hated it.

He hated you smiling and flirting with that douchebag. He wanted to say screw the mission and drag you back to the room, but didn’t think you’d appreciate it given the fact you practically divorced him the first hour of being together.

Wait, where are you going? Was he taking you to his hotel room? This night just keeps getting worse. He takes the stairs to Joes floor, he doesn’t think he could handle being in the elevator with you two.

His large frame hiding in the stairwell until his super hearing heard the door click behind you. He waits there until the sound of your giggles become to much for him, that he stomps back to your shared room ripping his tie off in anger.

Laughing as Joe practically falls onto the bed, eyes landing on the computer sitting on the desk, bingo. Yelping as his hands roughly yank you down next to him. You had to get him away from the computer.

“Why don’t you go back to the bar and get more champagne?”

“I think we’ve had enough.”

He growled pinning you to the bed,

well plan B it is. Bucking him off wrapping the tie from the robe hanging on the bathroom door around his neck. Not enough to kill him just enough to knock him out.

Pushing Joe to the side, quickly plugging in the usb downloading the information. Finally you can get back to Steve, I mean get out of the dress. Sighing, sliding your key card into the door.

Gasping, as you’re pinned to the door the second you walked in. Recognizing Steve’s face in the low light.

“Steve?”

“I didn’t like you flirting with him Y/n.”

Well this isn’t what you expected. It was just for the mission, is what you told him. Making him chuckle humorlessly.

“I think it’s time we drop the mission and do something for us.”

Swooping down pressing his lips to yours, still pinning you against the door. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, showing you he was in charge. While it might not be the welcome you expected but when the man of your dreams is on you like a man possessed, you go with it.

“I’m sorry I got kind of rough last night .”

Steve whispered against your hair, you were cuddled up next to him, head resting on his chest. His fingers mindlessly sliding up and down your back. This is definitely the best way to wake up. Not bothering to contain your giggles, you move to straddle his hips, the sun shining through the curtain and onto his face making him look even more handsome then usual.

“Don’t be, it was hot.”

Trailing your fingers along the ridges of his abs. Loving the way he shivers and tightens his hold on your thighs when he does. Leaning down brushing your lips against his as you speak. Distracting him enough that he doesn’t see you grab your phone off the bedside table.

“But if you really want to make it up to me,

I need a new screen saver.”

You can feel his body shaking with laughter as you take the picture, it would be a crime to let this moment go without capturing it.

“You’re not going to make that your screen saver.”

“Oh but I did.”

Quickly filling you on your back, him now on top his narrow hips fitting perfectly between your legs.

“Why have a picture when you have the real thing.”

His breath fanning over your face as you get lost in his bright blue eyes, if this is how you’ll wake up from now on, the early morning briefings don’t seem so bad.

Part 2

❤️hope you all liked it please check out my prompts and send requests ❤️

[twodaysintojune]

Creepin’ up The Backstairs

Supernatural, Debriel, Warnings-None

One Shots Masterlist, Long Stories Masterlist

Find me at AO3

Made for @debrielcc Creations Challenge, Song Prompt: Creepin’ Up The Backstairs by The Fratellis

There was a knock on the glass, one, two, three times before Gabriel finally realized there was someone knocking, standing up from his desk he moved the curtains aside. He almost screamed when he saw the shadow of a guy in front of him until he realized it was Dean. Quickly, he opened the window.

“Dean what the hell? How did you get past the fence?”

Dean sent Gabriel a smile so bright and warm while entering the room that Gabriel felt the air leave his lungs for a second.

“Heard you came back from that stuck-up boarding school, old man Beckett let me in.”

Gabriel beamed at his old friend, the moment he came back from France he was about to run to Dean’s house when his father forced him to stay and meet some unknown relatives that were most likely trying to lick dad’s boots to receive a loan from him for a truly stupid enterpise.

He hated it, hated the fact that they were ‘nobles’ and ‘rich’ and that they were supposed to act like it. That was why he loved Dean so much, he was unfazed by the nobility thing and always treated him as his friend. Gabriel still felt stupid when he remembered how troubled he had been that first time they met to hide the fact that he belonged to the Payne family and also remembered fondly how Dean took it all in stride and waved it aside, the last name was not important, what was important was Gabriel. Looking at it in hindsight that might have been the moment Gabriel fell in love for him.

Of course Dean didn’t know that. As far as Gabriel could see, Dean considered him a friend and just that. Yes, they were thick as thieves, much to both of their families chagrin but he had never shown any kind of romantic inclination towards him. It was sad to admit that this crush was very one sided but that didn’t stop him from having fun and enjoying Dean’s company so he was definitely not ready to let him go. Maybe when Dean eventually found someone else he would have to make a choice but not today.

Especially not tonight. Not when Dean’s cheeks were red from running and the cold winds of December and they looked ready to be kissed. Thing that Gabriel did immediately pecking both of Dean’s cheeks while hugging him, following the French tradition, so excited that he didn’t notice how his friend tensed slightly under his hold.

“Oh man, you just don’t know how much I’ve missed you!”

Dean snickered nervously. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“So what brings you here?”

“Ah uh...” Dean seemed to space a moment looking at Gabriel. He blushed and coughed a little. “I thought we could sneak away, there’s a couple of new bands performing at the club I’m sure you’ll like.”

“Awesome! Yeah sure, lemme get some clothes and we can go.”

“Oh and…”

Gabriel turned towards Dean once more, waiting for his words, nodding at him to prompt him into speaking.

“I was wondering if we could, uh, you know… Grab the car?”

“The car?”

“Yeah, you know, The Car.”

“Oh, oh!” Gabriel laughed mischievously while taking off his pj’s and putting in some old worn jeans, a dark Black Sabbath t-shirt Dean had gifted him for his birthday and black leather boots. “Yeah sure! We can sneak downstairs through the service stairs, I bet Mrs. Bell is knocked off with those sleeping pills she gets.”

Gabriel turned to find an awkward looking Dean.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing, uh, it’s good to see you here.”

Gabriel beamed at him.

“It’s good to see you too.”

So they sneaked into the garage to steal Michael’s car. The car, by the way was a classic 60’s cherry red Roadster that Michael kept in mint condition. Gabriel had been impressed when he saw it for the first time, moreso considering the fact that he couldn’t believe his down-to-earth brother was able to have such good taste in cars, maybe it was the ‘classic’ part of it that had called his attention but in the end, Gabriel was not going to complain. Especially when he knew for a fact Michael still left the car keys in the same place at the garage despite knowing his little brother liked to take it out for a ride from time to time. Okay, so maybe Michael was not as stuck up as he looked, Gabriel thought fondly. He was going to miss him if he decided to move after the marriage.

This time, Dean was on the wheel. They zoomed through the open roads for a while and left the car on a parking lot, knowing Michael would kill him if anything happened to it. Soon after the engine was killed, Gabriel took out his kohl stick and began to line his eyes. Dean shifted in his seat.

“Dude, you look good already, leave the makeup for the girls.”

“There’s never enough makeup when it comes to the guyliner Dean, maybe you should try it too.”

Dean snorted, he looked at Gabriel with a glance he was unable to read until he made up his mind.

“Alright then, turn me into a clown.”

Gabriel barked in delight with Dean’s comment while he leant towards him to start the job. They were close enough but Gabriel was more concentrated on not poking Dean’s eye by mistake.

“I knew I’d convince you one day.”

“You just like being pushy.”

“Shut up, you love me pushy.”

Dean stayed silent for a while while Gabriel finished the delicate job. Once he was done he began to put the eyeliner away.

“Yeah, I do.”

The words had been but a whisper but in the middle of the silence of the parked car it had been just as clear as daylight. Gabriel paused his actions and lowered his hands to look, really look at Dean. And it struck him like a lightning to realize that while Dean was undoubtedly handsome, the guyliner he had just placed on him made him ten times more attractive. And this attractive guy was looking at him in a way he knew for a fact he had never been addressed before.

“Dean?”

A car blaring out hip-hop music loud enough to wake up an entire block searching for a spot rushed in front of the Roadster, startling them. Dean coughed a bit.

“Come on, lets go.”

They ran through the couple of streets they had to cross to get to the club. It had been a good thing Dean had convinced him of using his warm lined corduroy jacket instead of the leather one. He had forgotten how cold things got at home.

Once inside the bar they were received by the gang; Charlie and Gilda, Mick, Ash and Jo greeted Gabriel warmly. Meanwhile, Dean took their jackets and headed to the personnel entry door. Gabriel stopped him just a second.

“You gotta work today?”

“Only half the shift, Jessica took Sam to some weird ass French movie, don’t even ask.”

Gabriel snorted, he was sure Dean only thwarted Sam’s chance of getting laid because he was expected to as the older brother. He screamed at him from half away.

“Cut him some slack man, the poor kid will die of blue balls!”

Dean turned around.

“Hey, I give him enough slack at home with the studies for the entrance exams, I won’t budge anymore.”

Gabriel moved his head in disapproval but he was still smiling. That probably had been the exact same answer the younger Winchester must have got. In the end all three of them knew Sam was still gonna get laid because he was not going to watch any movie, he was only not gonna be able to cuddle later.

The club began to fill itself with a lot of new faces, most likely followers of the bands that were going to play that night and sooner than later Gabriel saw the bar filling itself with countless girls that screamed in awe while he saw a bottle soar through the air. He wanted to get near to watch Dean do his bartender magic tricks but the crowd was so tight he wasn’t even able to see him through the people. He was sure the guyliner he had given him was also helping a lot with the charm.

Sighing a bit disappointed he turned back to the conversation only to find Charlie looking at him with knowing eyes.

“What?”

“What? You’re asking me what? Come on Gabe, you’re head over heels for Dean!”

Gabriel shrugged trying to play it cool. “So? It’s not like I’m hiding it anyways.”

“You’re not gonna do anything about it?”

At this point everyone else on the group turned to look at him, by the look of their faces they had obviously been desperate to ask him for a while now.

“Wha—!? Of course not! He’s my best friend! I’m not gonna risk what we already have because of my stupid crush.”

All their faces went down.

“Oh come on man! It’s Dean we’re talking about, he’ll definitely take you!”

Gabriel was about to retort when he stopped for a second.

“Okay, how much did you guys actually bet on me confessing?”

Everyone immediately began to laugh.

“It’s quite some actually, Kali and Bela said both of you are too much of a coward and nothing will happen.” Ash chimed in. “I’m rooting for Dean though.”

Gabriel tried his best to throw a judgemental glare to his friends until something in Ash words clicked in.

“What do you mean you’re rooting for Dean?”

Jo barked a laugh. In fact everyone did.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Are you being serious now Gabe?”

“I can’t believe this!”

“Okay guys come on, he wasn’t around to see what we saw. Actually, it’s because he wasn’t around that we saw it.”

“What? What did you see?”

More laughter.

“Well you see, three months ago, when your brother Michael got engaged—”

“Don’t tell him!”

“Oh come on guys!”

“I’m sorry Gabe, if you really want to know you’ll have to ask Dean.”

The banter between everyone went down to some gossip about the general whereabouts of everyone in life now. In the end most of them were able to see each other only on vacations now that they were studying in College so it was a good time to catch up. A few hours later, Dean joined them with a bucket of beers for everyone. Everybody cheered.

“Hey guys, what did I miss?”

“Hey, Dean, why don’t you tell Gabe what happened when we heard of the Payne engagement?”

Gabriel turned to Dean honestly curious, he really didn’t know what reaction to expect given the fact that none of their friends had wanted to spill the beans but he still got a bit startled when he saw Dean’s usually laid back features stiffen and his entire face turning red. Gabriel tried to ask him with a look but he distinctly avoided his gaze. Feeling a little taken aback by Dean’s avoidance Gabriel snickered nervously.

“It’s okay guys, it’s obviously not something that funny.”

Dean looked troubled for a second before he stepped in to try to help Gabriel feel better.

“No, no it’s okay I… uh, I dropped some bottles.”

“You... dropped some bottles?”

“Yeah, because they announced it on the news, remember?” Ash chimed in and went to imitate a news host voice “Exciting news for today folks! A new engagement has been formalized between the Payne and the Byrne households!”

“And just like that, Dean dropped the bottles!”

“Okay?”

“Don’t you get it Gabe? He dropped the bottles because of the shock!”

Dean fidgeted looking extremely uncomfortable while everybody held gloating faces.

“...Is it that weird to imagine Michael getting married?”

Everybody groaned, Dean deflated as if he had avoided a landmine.

“Guess I’m just weird! Now let’s drink guys, I need to wet my throat a bit.”

Dean was a bit too forceful but nobody complained. The rest of the night went by without an issue and Dean drove Gabriel back to his place. Once inside his room, Gabriel proceeded to remove their eyeliner, which proved to be harder than putting it on since Dean was doing a very poor job at staying still, every time Gabriel approached him, he stepped back.

“Damn it Dean, if you’re not going to let me do it then do it yourself!”

It seemed like that helped Dean snap out of whatever it was that was making him go back. He steeled himself and looked at Gabriel.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Gabriel sighed and went back to removing Dean’s eyeliner, he finished the first eye and moved to the second while Dean seemed to rummage something. He opened up the moment Gabriel was done.

“I thought it was you.”

“Huh?”

“The one getting married. I thought it was you.”

Gabriel looked at Dean blank for a second until it dawned on him what he was trying to say. Mick’s words came back to him and hit him like a train.

“Don’t you get it Gabe? He dropped the bottles because of the shock!”

Gabriel’s eyes widened in realization. Did this mean that Dean actually liked him? Maybe it had just been the shock of hearing about your friend’s marriage but then he wouldn’t have dropped the bottles, right? He stayed silent, he didn’t even know what to say, what if he was thinking way too much about this? What if Dean had really just been shocked because they were friends? What if…?

Gabriel’s train of thought halted and crashed when Dean leant towards him and kissed him.  

With a started noise and a sigh, Gabriel dropped everything and rushed to hold Dean’s face between his hands. Enticed by Gabriel’s actions, Dean moved forward and roughed him to get closer to him. Opening their lips and searching into each other’s mouths, gliding hands through their chests and biting softly each others lips, the kiss quickly heated up the moment they took each other’s shirts off when Gabriel’s door opened and in came a fairly drunk Lucifer who groaned at the sight, startling them.

“Oh for fucks sake Gabriel, get a room!”

Gabriel quickly deadpanned at his brother’s remark.

“Lucifer, this IS my room.”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times and looked around.

“Oh… well... lock the damn door next time!”

Gabriel threw his shirt at his older brother while he closed it back and went to properly lock it this time. When they were sure Lucifer was not going to try to come back, the guys turned to look at each other and began to laugh.

[gwiiyeoweo]

Prompto learns the intricacies of living with a god.

Pairing: Prompto/Noctis Rating: T

Surprisingly, having a god as a roommate wasn’t too complicated. Noctis seemed content to sit on the couch and play video games or borrow Prompto’s phone to play King’s Knight (until one day when Noctis pulled out his own smartphone from seemingly out of nowhere). Which was great, especially on days when he was swamped with homework or had to study for an exam; he’d hate to leave Noct just hangin’ like that. Sometimes Noctis poked his nose around in Prompto’s study material or borrowed library books, but not usually without commentary — especially when it came to the Cosmogony texts, or anything relating to the Astrals, for that matter.

“Really?” Noctis nearly spat out his drink one night, the night Prompto learned gods could get drunk. In one hand he held a volume of the Cosmogony, in the other was a can of cheap beer.

“Listen, it says here that Bahamut, and I quote, ‘handpicked a pious maiden and bestowed upon her the power of the Stars and his trident.’Bullshit.” He looked up from the offending text and squinted at Prompto, traces of pink dusting his cheeks. “Listen, Prom. Listen,” his words came in a slur. “Bahamut. Bahamut’s a little bitch, y’hear me? And, and a fuuuhh — a fuckboy.”

Noctis rolled his eyes and slammed his beer down on the table. “‘Bestow his trident,’ huh? Yeah, he gave her his trident alright.”

Prompto choked on his poptart, eyes bulging out his sockets as he coughed out cheap cherry filling and crumbs. “No w-way, man.”

“Yes way. Bahamut got around back in th’ day. It said somewhere, that us Astrals don’t show up around y’humans a lot. Yeah? Well, Bahamut, my man. Nuh-uh, not ‘im.” Noctis tossed his head back and threw his arm up, laughing into the back of his hand. “He would make himself look like, like a sex god, you shoulda seen it. Like a damn twelve-pack and Fabio hair and everything, the whole package. It was ridiculous.”

Noctis lifted his head just enough to share a deadly serious look with Prompto. “Between you and me? I think the only reason he’s stuck in that, uh, that Crystal is ‘cause he’s too sex’d out.”

Afterwards, Noctis fell onto his side and cuddled the Cosmogony into his chest, silent for the rest of the night, save for the occasional soft snore, leaving Prompto alone to process his emotional and mental turmoil on his very new, very disturbing piece of information.

And that was one concern that had quickly come up — the problem of sleeping accommodations. Sometimes Noctis would just stay up until Prompto fell asleep, would wait until the boy slapped on his chocobo pyjamas and crawled into bed. On those nights, Noctis would just smile sweetly and tuck him in, pat him on the chest a couple times, turn the light off, and leave the bedroom. Prompto would strain his ears to hear the tell-tale click of the front door. Sometimes he heard Noctis leave the apartment, sometimes he didn’t. In the morning when Prompto woke up, the god would be waiting in the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. He never asked about what Noctis did on the nights that he left.

On other nights, Noctis would fall asleep on the couch; and not wanting to disturb him, Prompto would tiptoe around the living space and switch off the lights after carefully draping a blanket over him. But like always, Noctis would be waiting for him with his coffee once morning came around.

So when two weeks passed and Prompto had let the guilt and curiosity break off the final chip, he finally got the guts to ask Noctis. “What do you do when I sleep?”

On the floor, Noctis was hunched over. His hands stilled, and he looked up from the 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle he was working on, a photographic rendition of the Citadel. “I sleep. Like you.”

“Yeah, but sometimes you leave.”

“Sometimes I go for a walk. Then I go to sleep,” Noctis shrugged, turning his attention back to the puzzle, “You could say I go ‘back’ to the Noctis ‘tree,’ or to the stars, or whatever. Then I come back in the morning.” He ran his fingers through a small pile of pieces, when his brows quickly came together in a frown. In one swift motion, he stood from the puzzle and flopped onto the couch, where Prompto was studying. “Prompto, I told you. I’m here to stay. If you’re worried that I might just ditch you —”

Prompto shot up a defensive hand. “No! It’s not — well, sometimes I still wonder if this is all a dream and that you’re just like, some hallucination or something. But that’s not really why I’m asking.”

“Okay, so?”

“Well, sure the couch is nice, but it kinda hurts my back after sleeping on it for so long. And, like, I dunno how this ” — he gestured with his hands at Noctis — “really works, or if you even get stiff shoulders from sleeping on a couch, but… My bed’s, uh, a lot more comfortable. So, you could… Maybe, join me instead.” Oh boy, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck and his cheeks.

“You’re asking me to sleep with you?” Noctis asked, lips curling into a sly grin.

“Not like sex! But, well, basically? I mean, not like I wouldn’t want to! Like, Noct, you’re totally hot, with this whole dark and mysterious cool vibe going on, but uh. Just, I mean, I totally see you as my bud. But it’s not like we could get something more going on later — and how would an Astral and a human even do this dating thing anyway — and does that, did that even happen before? I, I mean Bahamut was going around banging everyone, like you said, and I’m not slut-shaming any gods or I might get electrocuted or something but… I, uh.” Prompto covered his face with both his hands. “I’ll just shut up now.”

He knew this was a bad idea. Oh gods, he just wanted to sink into the couch and let it eat him. Hell, he’d even be okay with Bahamut striking him down right here and now for blasphemy or whatever.

Noctis, however, took it in stride and laughed it off. “Sure, Prom,” he said, reaching over to pat the poor guy on his shoulder.

And just like that, it was done. Prompto felt the shift in weight on the couch, and he peeked through his fingers to see Noctis back on the floor, working on his 1000-piece puzzle.

That night — and for most nights thereafter — once Prompto packed up his textbooks for tomorrow and threw on his cactuar PJs, Noctis slinked through the door in a pair of black boxers and a loose tee, climbed into a bed that seemed to fit two people just right. Somewhere along the way Prompto discovered he liked being the big spoon and that Noctis had no problem tucking himself in between his arms.

(Prompto did have to wonder, though, how and where Noctis got all his clothes when he never went shopping.)

“Hey, Noct.”

“M’yea?” he answered through a mouthful of pizza. Apparently Astrals didn’t need to eat, but Noctis could still enjoy flavors and spices and textures. He had quickly developed a habit of picking bits and pieces from Prompto’s food, or digging around the fridge for some cold meats or half-eaten leftovers that were a touch too ripe. Which worked perfectly, actually. Prompto wasn’t a starving college student, as he had a government stipend as well as a decent sum gifted from his parents to tide him over. Thing was, his budget was meant for himself, and himself only; he couldn’t really spend funds on feeding an extra mouth. So the fact that it was impossible for Noctis to starve definitely came as a plus.

“How come you look like that?” Prompto kept his eyes on the screen of his laptop, fingers typing away on his keyboard, only stopping when he realized that maybe his words weren’t the best choice. “I mean, like, my age. Some people said you were a little kid, or an older guy.”

‘Or a dilf,’ he thought to himself. Many of the posts that claimed Noctis as an older man, definitely did not leave out their biases and chose descriptions like “hot dad” or “daddy Noctis.” But the Noctis who was with him now, in the flesh and in his apartment, was scavenging his fridge with a half-eaten slice of pizza hanging from his mouth like some backstreet raccoon. And his looks barely passed as a young adult. There was still some softness of youth cushioning his features, a fairly slim but lean physique that girls would absolutely gush over. With his long eyelashes and smooth skin, he was the picture-perfect “pretty boy” Prompto had seen and heard his high school classmates squeal about way back then.

But, as Prompto paused to glance at Noctis, he could kinda see it — the whole “daddy Noctis.” He imagined an older Noct, the baby fat melted away to reveal sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut mythril, and maybe a trimmed beard to add some age. Would older Noctis have longer hair? Or maybe a cropped hairstyle? Noctis would probably keep his lean muscle, but maybe broader shoulders or something. What were even the requirements to be “daddy” anyway? Obviously it didn’t include having an actual kid though. (Did… Did Astrals even have children? Could they?)

“Well,” Noctis said, shutting the fridge door with his hip, each hand holding cartons of two-week old takeout, “I pick whatever floats their boat.” He set them on the kitchen counter and picked the lids off, leaning his face down to sniff the contents. He wrinkled his nose at one of the leftovers but chose to stick a fork in it anyway, twirling the cold noodles around before taking a bite.

“Dude, I don’t know how you do that,” Prompto gagged. “Or why, even.” He supposed it was his fault for not eating them sooner, for letting them go rancid. But that’s just one of the perks of having an ancient deity for a roommate, he justified. In the same way Noctis didn’t have to eat, he didn’t get sick from eating expired food bordering on mold and fungi. What would otherwise go into the trash or down the drain, went straight into the god’s stomach. Recycling at its best.

“If you’re talking about the food,” Noctis said, after swallowing down the slippery noodles, “It’s not that bad. Does taste kinda funky though, like artisanal cheese or something.” He swirled his fork, the carton making a distinct sound of something disgustingly wet and thick. “There might be some mold though, unless that’s just fuzzy cilantro.”

Prompto was pretty sure there was a blasphemy law or something out there, that strictly forbade people from offering gods old-ass food and moldy noodles. He learned last week to not think about it, however, and to let Noct eat what he wanted.

“But if you’re asking why I’m a twenty-something-year-old, it made the most sense.” Noctis tossed the empty carton into the trash and pointed his fork at Prompto. “Figured you’d want someone around the same age. I’m ninety-nine percent sure you wished for a friend, not a little brother or a dad.”

Oh. Well, that made sense. “Fair enough. I guess it’d get kinda old having to stop for old ladies that want to squish your baby cheeks.” Prompto paused, remembering the posts of people drooling over middle-aged Noctis. “Or crushing on hot dad Noct.”

That managed to pique Noctis’ interest, however, and his fork stopped mid-air on its way to the second carton. “Hot what who?”

Prompto realized then and there that Noctis did not, in fact, realize how badly people were thirsting for him.

“Oh, man, Noct buddy. The thirst out there is real .” Prompto laughed and pulled up a new tab, clicking on a link he bookmarked long ago. He scrolled through a few pages as Noct made his way to stand behind Prompto and look over his shoulder. The blonde stopped at a juicy string of replies and posts, angling the laptop screen so they could both see. “Your fans are so wild, my guy.”

   > I hope all the gods are as handsome, if only i saw him shirtless lol         > Omg ur not the only one. If i knew he looked like a hot piece of tall dark and gorgeous, i would’ve been soooooo much more specific with my wish. ;P

Some of the posts were a little more flattering. Others, less so.

   > do u guys think that if i wished hard enough, he’d sit on my face         > honestly? I don’t know if i want to pound that sweet ass or get rekt by him                > y not both? ;D

Prompto wasn’t sure what he had expected, but Noctis took it… Pretty well. In fact, they spent a good few hours bonding and laughing over the sheer thirst of these people. At some point in the night, they even came up with a drinking game.

“I mean, technically, this one mentions ‘daddy,’ ‘bondage,’ and ‘babies.’ So that’s what? Half a beer?”

Which quickly became a bad idea. Prompto was sure his liver was going to fail on him by his umpteenth bottle. Noctis — and damn him, and his stupid Astral powers — seemed to be unaffected despite having just as many drinks. He was cheating, using magic or whatever, to flush the alcohol out of his system, and Prompto whined as he was guided into the bedroom. This was so unfair. He was never going to have a drinking contest with Noctis ever again.

Unceremoniously, he was dropped onto his bed, and a pillow bounced off the mattress. “Ugh, ‘eyy, I’m delicate goods, y’knoooow,” Prompto groaned, rolling onto his side and burying his face into the blanket. It wasn’t a soft landing, and it probably would have actually hurt if not for the alcohol numbing his systems.

“Yeah? Pretty sure those posters would be more than happy to be thrown into bed by yours truly.” Noctis picked up the pillow and gently tossed it at Prompto’s head.

“Pfft. And now what?” Prompto pulled the pillow off his face and tucked it under his head. “You’re gonna ravish me, oh Mister Noctis?” he said, with half-lidded eyes, though his wiggling eyebrows killed whatever attempt of seduction he was aiming for.

Noctis snorted and crawled into bed, shoving Prompto to make space. “Pretty sure you said you’d rather do the ravishing, oh Mister Prompto.”

“Mmm, too tired to do any ravishing.”

“Then stop talking and get some sleep.”

“Okay-dokay,” he said, a pinch too chipper. ”G’night, oh Mister Noctis.”

Noctis placed a chaste kiss on his nose. “Night, nerd.”

It was winter break when Prompto would finally introduce Noctis to his acquaintances. (He had gotten an A on that research paper; not because of his stellar writing, but because Noctis insisted on meeting the professor himself, and that was a whole story for another day.) The Amicitias were having a potluck, and Gladio had invited Prompto and Ignis. It went without saying that Prompto was freaking the fuck out, when he read the text.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” He had been pacing back and forth, hands rubbing nervously at his face, for a good while now. “I'm invited to the Amicitia's. The house of the Shield. This is, like, huge!”

Noctis was on his bed, sitting up against the headboard when he swiped through Prompto's phone, reading the text that had gotten him so riled up. “Uh-huh. That's what it says,” he said, not impressed at all. “It's just a little party and some food.”

“Noct!” Prompto swirled around and stomped over to Noctis, clamping his hands on the other's shoulders. He looked at him dead in the eye, with all the seriousness of a soldier marching towards his death. “The Shield. They're like, almost royalty .”

Noctis shrugged, expression remaining bored. “So? Your parents are in Niflheim's Council. You're basically in the same boat as that Gladio guy, even if you keep calling yourself a pleb. Which, you know, you're really not.”

Prompto just gave an indignant shriek as he fell over Noctis’ legs and buried his face into the blanket. “It's not the same,” he groaned.

Noctis may have a point about their social classes being not so different, but it's not like a god could understand the struggles of lowly humans. Back in Niflheim, it wasn't as if Prompto was even well-known; he was just the kid of some government officials. The Amicitia family had this prestigious pedigree and a noble, gallant history to boot. If anything, Prompto really was a pleb in comparison.

Noctis drew his legs from underneath Prompto and laid on his side, parallel to the other. He gave a few sympathetic pats on his back but rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “You're really freaking out about this, huh?”

Prompto wordlessly nodded, face still glued to his bed.

“You can pass, you know. That's totally an option, in case you forgot.”

Prompto finally lifted his face to stare at Noctis, a stubborn frown pulling on his lips. “No way. This is an opportunity of a lifetime.” He rolled onto his back and sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “Gladio's pretty cool, but I guess the issue is with everyone else that's gonna be there. Everyone knows I'm a Niff, and well.” He waved his hands in the air, letting the implications speak for him.

“And Lucis is still on edge with Niflheim,” Noctis finished for him. “I know. I've seen the way people look at you.”

The sneers, the whispers, those eyes. But it wasn't as bad as it used to be, when Prompto was alone. Noctis’ presence itself was comforting, filled a hole in his life that had been there before he even arrived in Insomnia, but it also provided another form of relief. Walking the streets alone left him too vulnerable to the baleful stares and whispered curses. But with Noctis, who looked every inch a pure-blooded Lucian, walking side by side and laughing over shared drinks or stealing fries, it made all of them second-guess themselves. He could tell by the confused or surprised expressions, and he sometimes caught the weird looks they gave. It filled him with a sense of gleeful vindication.

(Noctis had easily caught on — or rather, he had known from the start. On their first outing together, he had made damn sure to be as touchy-feely as possible or laugh just a tad too loud at bad jokes, he had admitted to Prompto.)

Noctis looked at the message again, skimming over the short three lines of text. “You know,” he said, his eyebrows perking up, “I can come with. He said you could bring a friend along.”

“What?” Prompto shot up, and he reached over to snatch his phone back from Noct's clutches. He furrowed his eyebrows, read the text message twice over. “You're right. Oh! You, uh, you'd really be okay with coming with me?”

“Duh. It's a potluck. I'm always up for food.”

They spent three days looking up party foods, mostly at Prompto’s frantic insistence: “Dude, I can’t be the one guy who just brings the crappy off-brand chips and shitty dip.” Finally, Noctis took matters into his own hands and decided for Prompto, one hand dragging the blonde out for grocery shopping, the other pulling up a lasagna recipe on his phone.

“Ugghhh. Can’t you just use your magic and just, magically make some kind of one-food-satisfies-all sort of thing?” Prompto groaned, reading the label on a jar of tomato sauce. He tossed two in the shopping cart, then threw in another just in case.

“Technically, I could.” Noctis pushed the cart along, grabbing a few bottles of dried spices. “But you never filled out the ‘Stellarian Make-A-Wish Form’ and that takes four to six business days to get to me. And we definitely have less than four days to get this thing cooked up.”

“What. I didn’t know I had to sign forms! And business days? Dude, you’re right here.”

“Sorry, Noctis the Stellarian isn’t here right now. Please call again during normal business hours or leave a message after the beep.” Noctis walked off, leaving the cart behind. He never even said beep.

“Nooooooct!”

They had managed to make two large pans of lasagna, and it tasted pretty damn good in Prompto’s opinion. (Noctis’ opinion didn’t count, since he could eat practically anything, aside from his aversion to vegetables.) Better yet, they had managed to keep the kitchen intact, only burning one mitten and two hand towels. With the food out of the way, the only thing left was what the fuck was he going to wear.

Prompto was going to be late, and oh gods, his anxiety was spiking. He never asked Gladio if the dress code was casual or formal wear, and he wasn’t going to take his chances with guessing ugly sweater party. He rummaged through his dressers and tossed shirts and pants all over the bed and floor, only pausing to press a shirt against his chest and stand in front of the mirror every few minutes. He should have been out ten minutes ago, but here he was freaking out over what sweater to wear, and he was pretty sure being late would make for bad first impressions. It was a vicious cycle.

Noctis stood by the bedroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, when he rolled his eyes and sighed. He stepped through the whirlwind of clothes scattered all over the place, and stooped to pick up a long-sleeved shirt. Wordlessly, he shoved it in Prompto’s hands and manhandled the blonde out of the way, pulling out a pair of black slacks from the dresser. “Go, change. Now,” he ordered.

“Yeah, but —”

“Chill, Prom. It’s not like you’re meeting the King of Lucis or anything. So just change already.”

Noctis was a filthy liar.

Surprisingly, they made it to the Amicitia manor with three minutes to spare. Prompto had expected security checks or battle-hardened guards standing watch from lookout towers, maybe a couple black guard dogs too. So when he pressed a finger to the intercom and offered his name and reason for visitation, he was taken back when the gates opened only seconds after, with no vicious attack dog or security uniform in sight. Noctis looked a little too smug, who had listened to Prompto’s over speculation and frenzied rants, and sauntered right on in.

Prompto followed at his heels, and was greeted by cheery instrumental music and all sorts of tantalizing aromas, a blend of spices he’s never smelled before. He zeroed in on the long tables topped with food, some brought in tupperware or actual plates. It was reassuring to see aluminum trays lining the tables; he and Noctis brought in their lasagna in aluminum pans, too, and he had worried that maybe they should have splurged on those ceramic pans instead. They managed to find an empty spot for their dishes, though Noctis had to subtly rearrange a few plates around to make room for the tight fit.

“Hey, Prompto!” That gruff voice was unmistakable, but so was the hand that clamped itself on Prompto’s shoulder, nearly jostling him. “Good to see you made it.”

“Oh, hey, Gladio. Thanks for inviting me,” Prompto chirped, as if he hadn’t been rattled with anxiety and stress for nearly a week. He waved a hand over Noctis. “I brought a friend with me, if that’s cool.”

“Nah, you’re good. I did say you could bring one,” he said to Prompto, before turning his attention to Noctis. “I’m Gladiolus, but call me Gladio.”

“Noctis. Just Noct’s good. You’re Clarus’ son, yeah?”

“Yep, son of the Shield and all that.” Gladio paused a moment, an amused smile ghosting over his lips. “Noctis, like… the Stellarian?”

“Noctis, exactly like the Stellarian,” Noctis replied, ignoring the way Prompto coughed.

“Huh. Bet you get teased about that a lot.”

“You get used to it,” he said with a wry grin, throwing a sidelong glance to his friend.

It was mostly smooth sailing from there, despite Prompto’s prior apprehension but according to Noctis’ reassurances — which came in comforting whispers and light hand squeezes. However, they didn’t seem to escape the hawk-ish gaze of one Ignis Scientia, who gave them a knowing look and a tilt of the lips over the rim of his wine glass. Even Gladio the musclehead noticed, nudging Prompto with his elbow and blowing a low whistle. It wasn’t like they were trying to be inconspicuous anyway; having been caught, Noctis laughed and gave them a full view of a smack of lips on a freckled cheek, at the price of Prompto’s flushed embarrassment.

Prompto still wasn’t sure what was going on between them, and Noctis gave no indication of his own. It had been casual flirting here, an offhand comment there, and somehow it turned into little shared kisses on the cheek or forehead. What he did know, however, was that he enjoyed it and wanted to see where things would take them. It was a little awkward to be caught sharing their affections, especially when he himself was still trying to process his own feelings about them, but it filled him with a tingly warmth all the same.

And it was almost enough to ignore a familiar, unsettling gaze that bore through the back of his skull. No matter how many cups of eggnog he downed, Prompto would always know what that sort of look was; he had been on the receiving end of it for far too long to not know. It was the judgmental stare of a stuck-up noble, the prejudice of a narrow mind — or in this case, the animosity of a Crownsguard official. Having had enough and feeling his confidence bolstered by the buzz of alcohol, Prompto turned to see who was glaring daggers at him, to find who the burning gaze belonged to. The uniform screamed Crownsguard, his face the same stern expression of a military man ready to snap and bark, and Prompto had immediately turned back around the second he saw that scowl. Okay, so maybe he regretted looking just a little.

But he managed to get on, because out of sight, out of mind and all that, yeah? He could still feel the little pin pricks as the hairs on the back of his neck stood at guard, could feel the barb wired glances given his way, but as the hour wore on, he managed to relax until the perpetual stare melted like the ice in his punch, into nothing but a distant reminder. The man had seemed satisfied to just shoot scowls at Prompto, which he was able to fare with and mostly ignore, and nothing had happened so far. Not to mention he was in the Amicitia household, so surely he was safe. No one would want to start a fight in the Shield’s home, right?

Wrong.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

Prompto had returned to the punch bowl to refill his drink, leaving Noctis to carry on with Ignis and Gladio. And yeah, that probably wasn’t a good idea, to present himself vulnerable as a lone target.

Prompto set his cup on the table and turned to stand face-to-face with the Crownsguard who had been shooting metaphorical knives at him for the past hour-ish. And maybe it was the liquid courage that was in the punch and eggnog that had Prompto puffing out his chest, but damn it , he was at a party and enjoying himself for once! He really did not need some asshole bursting his bubble.

“I’m getting punch, what does it look like?” Prompto huffed, gesturing to the very obvious bright red of the glass bowl.

“Sure you’re not planning on poisoning us, Niff?” The Crownsguard scoffed, eyes narrowing in suspicion and scorn. “Wouldn’t doubt it if you poisoned the food either.”

Okay. This was guy was hella rude. Their lasagna was actually good — he and Noct worked very hard on that, for his information.

He opened his mouth in protest, to point out they suffered a burnt mitten to get the damn pan out of the oven, to point out all the hard work and mess that had gone into it, until Noctis came over, planting himself between Prompto and the asshat Crownsguard.

“You got issues with my lasagna?” Noctis crossed his arms across his chest, his chin tilted up. Prompto couldn’t see, but he was pretty sure there was a scowl on his face. He also couldn’t help the vindictive glee in his chest.

“I got issues with the Niff here, not you, kid. He doesn’t belong here.”

“Sure he does. He got an invitation from the Amicitia over there,” he said, motioning a hand to Gladio, who was looking in their direction with concern, ready to intervene. “And besides, you got an issue with Prompto, you got an issue with me.”

“Look, kid. You’re better off not hanging around Niffs —”

“I’m not a kid,” Noctis practically growled. Though Noct was technically right, Prompto figured his looks… Kinda barely passed as an adult though.

“And I can do what I want, so don’t you tell me what to do.” Noctis jabbed a sharp finger into the Crownsguard chest. At this point, Gladio and some other man — ‘ Oh shit, is that Clarus Amicitia ?!’ Prompto silently screamed — were making their way over. But they would be too slow.

“Watch yourself, kid, or you'll be seeing stars,” the Crownsguard hissed. His shoulders tensed, and Prompto could see the faint lines of muscle tightening. This was so not good. He could feel the stare and attention focused on them, the worried murmurs and hushed whispers. He wished he had refilled his glass so he had punch to swallow down all this tension he was surely going to choke on.

“Oh, yeah?” Noctis snarled, bristling like an angry cat, Prompto imagined, with his curled up fingers and stiff white knuckles. He saw Noctis’ head twitch, jerk ever so slightly to his left, when Prompto caught a glimpse of a foreboding smirk. He followed Noctis’ line of sight, and it took every ounce of steel willpower to not scream.

Because standing right there was King Regis Lucis Fucking Caelum.

Prompto felt his eyes bulge from his skull, as the blood drained from his face to be replaced with ice cold water. Oh, Six. He was breathing, right? In, out? He could barely hear the rush of blood in his ears, too busy internally screaming into the void and all that.

‘ Chill, he said! You’re not gonna meet the King of Lucis, he said. It’s gonna be fun, he said!’ Whoever told him gods didn’t lie needed to go check themself.

He barely caught onto Noctis, too busy freaking out over literal royalty over there to stop him when he heard That Tone in his voice.

“Well, guess what?” Noctis had dropped his knees slightly. And with all the fury of a burning star, he slammed his fist up into the Crownsguard’s jaw in a brutal uppercut before either of them had time to blink. Prompto was pretty sure there was a kungfu movie with a similar title. Fist of the — South? West? — Star or something. It was over as quickly as it had started, and the body dropped in a skin-crawling thump.

“ Twinkle twinkle, motherfucker .”

Noctis shook his wrist, grimacing lightly from the impact. But it was quickly replaced with a shit-eating grin when he turned his gaze back to King Regis, who looked pretty damn chill despite witnessing someone knock out his Crownsguard, as opposed to the panic rising in Prompto’s own chest.

“Hey, Reggie. Long time no see,” Noctis all but laughed, who was way too calm about all of this.  

A flash of confusion and irritation passed over the King’s face, but it quickly melted into shocked realization then mild exasperation. Prompto was still too stunned to think of anything, but he could have sworn there was a hint of fondness in the man’s eyes.

By the time Gladio kneeled beside the Crownsguard, Clarus moved in on Noctis, taking long strides with a definite purpose. Prompto almost threw an arm out to shield Noctis behind him, to point out that the Crownsguard was being an ass and Noctis was just defending him so could he please just —

“Clarus, stand down. It’s alright,” King Regis ordered. Clarus stopped dead in his tracks, hand left in mid-air as he was just about to grab Noctis. Regis ignored the unconscious guard and walked up to the Astral, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Nearly twenty years, Noctis, and not a single hello. I must say, you know how to make an entrance.”

Prompto briefly remembered his first meeting with Noct’s shoe. Yeah, that had been an entrance alright.

“What can I say? I’m just that good.” Noctis shrugged and glanced over at Prompto, then past him at the tables behind. “Want to try our lasagna?” he asked the King.

“If I did not know any better, I would leap at the opportunity. But having past experiences with your cooking, I do think I prefer living. I’ve a kingdom to run, after all.”

“Hey!” Noctis interjected, smiling.

Still, the two laughed as if they had been old friends, ignoring the confused and slightly terrified faces around them. But knowing Noctis’ long, longhistory, Prompto didn’t doubt they truly had a bond.

He didn’t notice the King’s attention on him until Noctis nudged him on the shoulder. “Eh? What?”

“Prompto Argentum, was it?” King Regis asked.

“U-uh, yeah!” he stammered, feeling the pressure of the King’s gaze. Then he quickly added, “Your Majesty.” He couldn’t believe he was talking to the King, not to mention he even remembered Prompto’s name. And also not to mention, he was still not over the fact he had shaken his hand all those months ago, on the day he first arrived in Insomnia.

“I would love to hear how you met dear Noctis over here, whenever you’d be willing.”

“Noct? Um, yeah! Totally! Er, Your Grace.”

King Regis chuckled, deep and warm, and merely nodded. “Now, let’s try that lasagna, hm? You, too, Clarus! If I die of food poisoning, we die together.”

“Your Majesty, please,” the Shield sighed.

Prompto never really figured how it happened or when it all started. But one snowy morning, when he woke up to Noct's sleeping face and terrible bed hair, he was suddenly struck with a revelation.

‘Huh. I love this man,’ he thought. It was weird. He expected metaphorical fireworks and the heavy beating of his heart with that dizzying blood rush, waited for it with silent expectancy and any minute now .

But nothing came.

Two minutes, then five minutes. Ten. Nothing. Instead, he was left with the soft knowledge of his feelings, the gentle warmth that settled in his stomach as he watched Noctis and the slow rise of his chest with each steady breath. And this warmth, it was nothing new; it had been there for well over a year now, when his loneliness was replaced by this bright little star. And not even a month ago, Gladio and Ignis had referred to Prompto as their friend .

There were no grand explosions, no sparks of passion and heated kisses stolen between short, frenzied breaths. It had come silently. Like the slow rise of the morning’s light streaming in through the window, like the lazy snowfall covering Insomnia, settling so gently that he wouldn’t know how much had piled up unless he drew back the curtains and looked out into the heart of the city.

Prompto closed his eyes and smiled into his pillow, snuggling a bit closer to his favorite little star, and drifted back to sleep, falling to the comfort of knowing everything would work out, that everything already had. And Noctis, still deep in his sleep, responded to the shift and threw a cold leg over Prompto’s, eliciting a quiet breathy laugh.

Yeah, everything would be just fine.

Bonus

“So, you look pretty good. Older, but still good.” Noctis said over the rim of his glass.

Regis resisted the urge to roll his eyes and to fall back to his younger years of bantering and snickering, to the days of his youth spent with the Astral. “Yes. Well, ageing does that to mortals, Noctis. I would like to say the same to you, except you’ve gotten… Younger.”

He almost hadn’t recognized Noctis, when he watched the younger man knock his Crownsguard off his feet. He had felt the flames of angry retribution and indignation ignite, until that age-old smirk caught him off guard, when he recognized that smile, that specific tilt of the lips, but he couldn’t place it — not until he saw that set of steel-blue eyes that seemed to hide all the world’s stars behind them.

After all those years, Regis never expected to see him again. Ever. And especially not in Clarus’ home. Yet here they were again, sitting by the fireplace with plates of lasagna and glasses of champagne, basking in each other’s company as they had done in what seemed like a lifetime ago. (The lasagna was, surprisingly, quite good.)

“You were an older man, back in my youth. I almost failed to recognize you.”

Noctis was a bit taller, back then, sporting a neatly trimmed beard and age lines that looked to add wisdom around his eyes. Regis, being but a boy back then, had looked up to the god, for when his own father was absent in his royal duties as King. For when he had wished for a father, someone who could actually spare more than ten minutes a day for his son.

“Oh, yeah. ‘Daddy Noct,’” Noctis snorted. “Apparently that’s what I’m called nowadays, when I look like that. Y'know, you never actually called me dad.”

Young Regis had never gotten over that strange pride-ego-dignity trinity that teenage boys tended to have, and refused to call Noctis any version of the word “father” despite his wish being just that. They both knew he had been the closest thing to what a father should actually be, but those times were gone; however, Regis now saw a dear old friend instead. Plus, it'd just be downright weird for a grown man to call a younger one his dad.

“As I am aware.” Regis earned an incredulous look, to which he responded, “I know how to use the internet, Noctis.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird hearing that from you,” Noctis mumbled around his fork. He looked to the fireplace, the flames dancing in the dark of his eyes. “Time sure flies, huh, Reggie? You used to be so small. Now look at you.” He gently placed his fork down, lightly clinking against the ceramic, meeting his gaze with Regis’. “You grew into a fine king.”

They let a comfortable silence fall over them, save for the crackle of wood and the cheery music playing in the distance. Clarus had made sure the two could get their own little space, away from the rest of the party.

Finally, Regis spoke up again. “I never properly thanked you for granting my wishes.”

“Don’t mention it. All I did was get the ball rolling. You’re the one who pushed it to the finish line. Now look.” Noctis nodded over behind them, where Ignis was trying (and failing) to teach Prompto a proper waltz. “You finally got peace for your kingdom, even after the mess your father left behind.”

“Still. If it weren’t for your hand in all this—”

“Reggie, stop, you’ll make me blush,” he said wryly. “But, uh, sorry that it took so long. Had a hard time coming to a compromise. Don’t tell him I told you, but” — Noctis leaned in, and Regis mimicked the gesture — “I had a little argument with Bahamut. He kept insisting that Lucis wipe Niflheim out first, declare war and all that. Heck, that’s part of why Shiva’s doing her thing over there still, to soften them up and make the fight easier. It’s kinda hard to convince the god of war to not go to war, you know?”

“Ah. So Bahamut.”

“Yep.”

It was Regis’ turn to gaze into the fireplace. “I suppose you were right along,” he said after a brief moment. He turned to look back at Noctis in the eye and smiled with all the kingly grace he could muster.

“Bahamut is indeed, as you had put it, a fuckboy.”

[penelopelovesalvez]

A Lucky Night- Chapter 6

Here is my multi-chapter pic featuring characters I do not own from Criminal Minds, Alvez x Garcia, in a story of my own creation. It picks up at the end of 13.5.

Warning: Some chapters contain smut. While many do not, the ones that do are definitely 18+, NSFW.

Please feel free to re-blog and review! Please ask for permission before posting on any other platform.

Luke couldn’t believe his ears. She had agreed? That easily? And he didn’t have to convince her further or beg? But wait, she had just asked if wanted to spend the night with her. Luke groaned. She’d be the death of him, his fiery goddess. “Chica, do you know what you’re proposing? I’m an honorable man, and I pride myself in my strength and character but you could tempt a saint to sin. Sleeping in your bed and not touching you is going to sorely test my resolve, Penny…” Luke rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, then his face split into a grin. “But, I fully intend to start this relationship off on the right foot which means spoiling you like hell and giving my Chica whatever it is she wants. So, if you want a sleepover I will endure the torture of self-imposed celibacy, and a sleepover we will have,” Luke said, laughing down at her enthusiastic expression as she threw her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his face.

Penelope pressed her lips to his cheek, her stomach flipping and her heart galloping giddily in her chest. Relationship, the man said relationship. Maybe tonight would be even better than she could have ever hoped or planned!

With a chuckle, Luke continued reasoning with her. “But, there will be sleeping. We both need our rest, because we have a day date tomorrow and I want us to enjoy it to its full potential,” he said as he stood up, taking her by the hand and pulling her to her feet. Tilting her head back, he placed one final, scalding kiss on her lips. “So, why don’t you go get ready for bed. I’m gonna tidy up out here just a bit, and then I’ll join you,” Luke said, sending her out of the room with a playful slap on the butt.

Penelope walked towards her bathroom in a distracted daze. Luke, Mr. Cool and Composed who rarely revealed anything personal –who displayed few emotions other than determination and anger when on a case or teasing when giving her crap- was here in her apartment. And not only was he asking her out, he was showing her this playful, caring side she’d never imagined he had- at least directed towards a human and not his Roxy girl. But, oh! What was she thinking asking the man to sleep over! “Penelope Grace, you have lost your mind entirely,” she whispered to herself, staring at her reflection in the mirror before she quickly brushed her teeth.

Luke watched her walk away, profoundly happy with how well things were going. Walking to the kitchen sink, he shook his head. What are you thinking man? Sure, holding her in your arms all night is more than you dared hope for. And watching her face, soft and peaceful, in sleep and then witnessing her adorable sounds and expressions as she wakes in the morning will be worth the torture of holding his desire in check. And what torture that will be, because that woman has his blood set to a perpetual boil. 

Penelope finished in the bathroom, removing her contacts and using the toilet quickly. She washed her hands, removed her makeup, and applied some fresh deodorant before moving into her bedroom. She raced around, tidying up the clothes she’d discarded earlier and hastily making the bed. Turning to the dresser, she perused her options of sleepwear- what would strike the perfect balance between alluring and comfortable? She didn’t want the man thinking she was inviting a romp between the sheets, but she also wanted something a little more flattering than her worn flannel PJ pants. A glimpse of purple caught her eye. Aaah, perfect! She got dressed, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and fluffed the pillows. Then, she laid down on the bed to wait for Luke.

In the kitchen, Luke rinsed off the dishes, loaded them into the dishwasher, and set the machine to wash. Then he turned and double-checked all the locks on the front door. Crossing the room, he turned off the lamp on the table next to the couch. Grabbing his go bag, he fished out his extra phone charger, toothbrush, and a pair of workout shorts. He removed his weapon, tucking it into the back of his waistband. Good thing he’d thought to leave my go bag in the living room as an excuse to return and have alone time with Penelope. He couldn’t have known he would need it, but he was glad to have clean clothes to wear tomorrow.

Unlocking his phone, he saw it was nearly 3 am. He looked up brunch places nearby, noting that the highest-rated choice served until 1pm on Saturdays and had an outdoor patio. Clicking through a few more tabs he made a few other arrangements for his date day with Penelope. He sent off a text, asking his dog walker if she could keep Roxy from tomorrow afternoon through Sunday morning. He and Penny would enjoy some family time with the dog for part of the day, but then they’d have some uninterrupted privacy that would maybe last until Sunday. “You surprised me Penny with this impromptu sleepover, and I’m going to surprise you tomorrow. I’m going to romance the socks off of you tomorrow, and this will be the best first date you’ve ever had. And maybe the last first date you ever have,” he silently mused.

Content with the plan shaping up for tomorrow, he headed to the bathroom. He stripped out of his clothes, pulling on the workout shorts. Finding Penelope’s toothpaste in the vanity drawer, her brushed his teeth. He relieved his bladder, washed his hands, and then switched off the light as he went. Exiting the bathroom, his phone and weapon in hand at his side, he crossed the hall. Stepping over to Penelope’s bedroom door, he knocked lightly. From inside, Penelope’s voice drifted over him, “Come on in, Luke.”

Luke opened the door, taking in his first sight of Penelope’s bedroom. “Welcome to my boudoir, lover,” she said. Penelope was laying on the bed, on top of the covers. She looked tantalizing, in a tight purple camisole and a pair of purple shorts edged in black lace. Luke exhaled heavily at the sight of her, here, in such an intimate setting. “Penny… you look…..” Luke groaned.

“My, my. Smooth talking, cool hand Luke is speechless. I suppose I have succeeded then,” Penelope said, stretching her arms above her head towards the headboard. She took in the sight of him standing in her room, shirtless in a pair of basketball shorts. Her gaze roamed over his sculpted chest, stomach and arms. Sex or no sex, she couldn’t believe he was sharing her bed tonight. “Well, I guess I might as well stop teasing you. I supposed I’ve had enough fun for one night without continuing to torture you. Come on over, don’t be shy,” she said, patting the space on the bed to her right.

Luke approached the bed slowly, his eyes still taking in the pale perfection of her skin revealed by the short shorts and the delicate straps and low neckline. Suddenly shy, he looked at Penny’s face. Dragging a hand across the back of his neck, he stammered, “Umm, would you… do you mind if… ugh, If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sleep on the left side of the bed.”

Penelope’s eyes widened. She seemed surprised by his request. A ghost of a smirk flitted across her face. “So, the first time I invite you to spend the night and you’re already expecting me to rearrange my life for you, Alvez? What would you say if I told you that I also prefer to sleep on the left, and since it is my bed you will just have to compromise and take the right side?” Penelope asked, her voice mockingly stern.

Luke set down next to Penelope on the edge of the bed, facing her. He placed a hand on hers, and looked her intently in the eye. “Penny,” he said, his voice quiet. “There will be plenty of time for conversations about rearranging our lives and compromise, accommodating each other and working through the challenges we face. But the reason I want to sleep on the left has nothing to do with any preference. I’m asking you to take the right side of the bed and allow me to sleep on the left because that is the side closest to the door. I’d rather be between it and you, just in case. You can say no, but I will sleep a whole lot better if I know that I’m between you and the door, between you and any danger. Old habit from my Ranger days, and it might seem silly to you but I did just find out that you were shot ya know,” he said. He stared at her face, hoping she wouldn’t be offended by his overly protective instincts or, worse, find his cautiousness irrational or irritating.

He was unprepared for the force with which she threw herself into his arms. Penelope pulled him close, her arms rubbing his back and her face pressed into his chest. “Oh Luke, of course. I’m sorry, I never even considered that. Of course after all you’ve experienced you would be concerned about security. And here I am, insensitively mocking you when you’re being protective, you wonderful man. I’m sorry. Ya know, even with all we see, even after I was shot, I still let my guard down. I feel so safe here at home, especially with you and Roxy here. But I shouldn’t take that for granted,” Penelope mumbled against his chest. She leaned back, looking intently into his eyes, and then tenderly placed her lips on his.

The kiss they shared was sweet and tender, and when they broke apart a minute later, Penelope scooted up, pulling the comforters and sheet down so that she could crawl beneath them. She slid to the right side of the King bed, making room for Luke to join her. He turned, plugged his cellphone in next to hers and set the alarm. Then he tucked his firearm under the pillow, before laying down next to Penelope. She reached over, pressing a button on the remote that turned off the main light.

In the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in the window and the tiny gold twinkle lights above the bed, Luke lay on his side, propped up on his elbow, looking at her. He took in how long her eyelashes looked up close. He marveled at the way her blonde tresses curled over the pillow and her shoulders. Reaching out, he brushed the back of his hand against the soft curling strands. He appreciated the long line of her throat, revealed by the ponytail- a look she rarely wore. He leaned down, and pressed the most tender kisses to her shoulder, neck, cheek, forehead, and finally, to her perfect, rosy lips. 

“Good night, and sweet dreams Chica,” he said, caressing the side of her face. He settled down next to her, pulling her against him. Penelope turned towards him, tucking one hand under her pillow, and placing the other flat against his chest. He reached across her, pulling her even closer against him so their hips met. They fit together as if they had been made for each other. Draping his arm across her waist, tucking her head below his chin, he closed his eyes and listened to her breathing. Within just a few moments, her breathing had settled into a steady rhythm indicating that she was sound asleep. Closing his eyes, he soon drifted off to sleep himself.

[j-wonwootrash]

S.Coups || Next Door Pt.1

Word count: 2.2k Genre: College!au, fluff, drama, comedy, slice of life, romance A/N: This was in my drafts for so long I forgot to post it. *smiles shyly*  Enjoy reading! 

Y/B/N - Your brother’s name

Pt.1 || Pt.2 ||

“He deserves a punishment.”

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, too lazy to get out of bed and continue the same routine everyday. You couldn’t take it anymore but you had to endure, since the boys you were staying with were the boys you loved the most.

Your nephews, Jaewon & Jaemin- your older brother’s sons. He left them in your care about 3 months ago when he suddenly barged into your new apartment, panting with the kids.

“Y/B/N, you know how much I hate people who don’t ring the door bell before coming in…” you whined as you turned around. “What’s going on? What happened?” 

You saw your brother, who was dead exhausted, soaked from the rain with his sons in his arms and bags behind him. 

“It’s Hana.” he paused. “When I got home from work, Jaewon ran to me, crying- saying their mom brought home another man. Out of anger I took the boys and left. You wouldn’t mind if we stayed here for a while until I save up for a new apartment?” 

With pity you hugged your brother. “Of course.. yes. I’ll let you stay here even it takes years.” 

Looking back at that time, you couldn’t believe how your sister-in-law would do such a move to your brother. When she was introduced to your family, she looked pure and innocent and was someone you trusted. She was the sister you never had. But in the end you confirmed the saying that “seeing is deceiving” was indeed true. 

You cooked pancakes and Jaemin started to cry. “Shh now Jaemin you’ll wake the neighbors.” you cooed him as you carried the almost 1 year old child in your arms. “If you cry, no pancakes from Auntie Y/N.” you singsonged.

Jaewon, the 3 ½ year old, woke up in his pj’s. The little boy tugged the ends of your apron. “Hungry, Jaewon?” He nodded, taking the first bite of pancake, and you knew the smile on his face was enough for him to stay happy. 

“Aunt Y/N. More more?” he pointed at the sliced pancakes. “Alright dear, but only one okay? We have to hurry to bring you to Grandad and Granny.”  

---------- 

Seungcheol woke up with sun rays that blinded his eyes. It was 7 in the morning and his friends slept over after another party at his place. “Ugh.” he grunted lowly, staring at his group’s drunk dead bodies. “Guys wake up, we have school. Class’ at 9.” 

The rest of the boys, that is, not even half of his squad- Jeonghan, Soonyoung and Joshua. “5.. more.. minutes..” Soonyoung said in his morning voice. Seungcheol sighed at the younger one, pulling the blanket in irritation. 

“Yeah your definition of 5 minutes is an hour.” Seungcheol rubbed his temples. “Get up or I’m leaving you behind.” 

Seungcheol lived alone since when his father kicked him out of the house, which was a little over a year ago. He was against his father’s new intention for the company, much to that it will benefit his family and not the world. His mother wanted for him to come back but there was no guarantee that that’ll change Seungcheol’s mind. 

Breakfast was always rushed whenever the boys were around. Either they all took a bite or nothing at all. This time, they skipped, again. “Are you all ready?” 

Seungcheol yawned, fastening his seat belt. “Cheol, isn’t that Y/N?” Joshua pointed at you, who was now putting Jaewon and Jaemin in the booster seats.

“Hm yeah. She lives next door.” Seungcheol looked at you. “She has kids?” Jeonghan raised a brow. 

Seungcheol shrugged. He didn’t know much about you but this view of you to him was, very interesting. “I think there’s something the entire school doesn’t know about.” 

----------  “I’ll see you later boys.” you kissed their foreheads, Jaemin already crying in Granny’s arms. 

You drove off and to be honest, the school wasn’t that far from your parents but you’d rather drive than to walk. As you arrived by the entrance of the school, a crowd already gathered at your usual spot. “What’s going on?” you murmured. 

You got out of the car and swung your bag to your back. “Why are you all here?” you asked the others, who were slowly walking backwards. Since you got no response, you ignored them and went to your locker. 

Irritated because you felt the presence of people tailing you from behind, your head ached after seeing people crowded the newsboard. Pushing your way through, you saw words of false statement. Y/N has kids. I got proof. 

There was an arrow pointing below, and the picture showed you with your nephews, clearly taken this morning. “Who did this?” you asked. Frowning, you angrily tore the paper from where it was, turning around to the people you knew who were following you. “I said who did this?!” 

No one dared to look at you, after all you were part of the Student Council and never have you raised your voice besides the President. You crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground, and without stopping to think for a second, you entered the meeting room with heavy steps. 

“Pres,” you loudly pushed the door open. “What is this lie?!” you wriggled and shoved the picture to his face. 

“Y/N I can’t see it if you put it that close to- oh wow.” Jonghyun was taken aback. “If it’s that act then we all know who caused it.” He stopped to put scratch his chin. “Oh what’s his name? Seungkwan?” he furrowed his brows. 

“That’s definitely not me, I’ll never do that to Y/N.” Seungkwan butted back, the secretary. 

“It’s Seungcheol, Pres.” Nayoung gave him a glare of frustration, while she continued to count the finance. 

“Mingyu, you better do something about it. I mean he’s your friend,” you sighed. “Can’t you talk to him?” 

The boy just smiled, like he always did. He let his legs rest on the meeting table while he twirled his pen around. “I’ll talk to him.” 

“Make sure you do it or else,” Jonghyun warned as he sat back down. “Anyway, let’s start. Minutes ready?” 

----------  Lunch came and you were in queue to get your meal. You thought anyone could do that but, Seungcheol? He used to be in the Council up until last year. 

The cafeteria became noisy when he came with Jeonghan and Mingyu. “Yawawoh! What’s today’s menu?” Your head fumed, rolled your eyes as you went to an empty table. 

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, assuming it would be your mother, who would always send you pics of the boys at this hour. Flattened lips curved as you saw Jaemin’s face covered with oatmeal. You giggled, at least this one bit made you happy today. 

“How’s your son doing?” you hear Seungcheol approaching your table. 

“Fyi, he’s not my son.” your hands balled into fist as you turned to Mingyu. “Hey I thought you’ll talk to him about it?” 

Mingyu just shrugged, “Tried to, he won’t listen.” 

You glared at Seungcheol, who smirked at your reaction. Oh how you wanted to kick his stomach for being obnoxious. Just the sight of him ticked you off. “Well Gyu, you’re not aggressive enough. I’m leaving.” 

Seungcheol pulled you as you stood up, your back against his chest. The chairs screeched the floor, your palm slammed onto the table. It was that much force the entire cafeteria had their eyes on you both. “You’re being rude.” he whispered to your ear. 

“Talk about being rude.” you wiggled from his hold and left. 

“She’s so mad at you.” Jeonghan chuckled, popping a fry to his mouth. 

“I like teasing her, with or without reason. She’s cute when she goes all feisty.” he joined Jeonghan and they both laughed. 

“You have to know your limits, Hyung. You and I both know what you plotted was not true.” Mingyu took a sip from his coffee. 

“It was all for fun, Gyu.” Seungcheol wiped his hands. “Just how much longer do I need wait to have a normal conversation with her?” 

----------  Your hand curled in anger as you heard Jaemin cry for the 3rd time. The boys next door were so loud and your nephew couldn’t get some sleep. It was already 9 in the evening and they were not ashamed of themselves. You carried Jaemin in your arms and Jaewon soon hugged your leg. 

Got outside of your apartment and knocked- actually slammed several times- onto Seungcheol’s door. “Choi Seungcheol!” 

The door opened with Chan’s soon-faded smile. He raised his hand and clicked a button on the stereo’s remote. “Y/N noona..” The loud music halted and you stormed into the apartment with no regrets. 

“Choi Seungcheol!” your eyes widened with the amount of boys in his living room. “Where is he?” 

Soonyoung’s lips agape and pointed towards the kitchen. You gave Jaemin to the surprised boy and Jaewon soon sat on his lap. 

You entered and saw Seungcheol drink water. “Ah you’re here. I don’t remember inviting you though.” 

“Cut the crap Seungcheol, my nephews can’t sleep because of you.” 

He nodded, gulping the few litres left from the glasses. “Me? I’m just here. Ask them, they’re the ones who’re noisy.” 

“But you’re the one responsible.” you rubbed your temples. 

“Fine I’ll apologise on their behalf.” he rounded his words with sarcasm. “I’m sorry for being a jerk and spreading lies in school. If you want I’ll do anything you say, to keep you convinced.” 

You stayed silent and noted his sincerity even if there was sarcasm, and honestly, you like where this was going. You left the kitchen and into the living area. “You’ll do anything I’ll say?” 

By this time the rest of the group watched you, curious with the conversation. “Yeah. Anything, no complaints.” Seungcheol scratched his head. 

“Okay, you’ll babysit my nephews on Monday and Tuesday afternoons, and a whole day on Fridays.” you turned to him as you eye-smiled the boy, he raised his eyebrows and you sensed the shock in his eyes. 

He remained his cool. “Hm, already know my schedule huh. Never knew you stalked me.” he stared at you and tried to reach for your waist, but you knew his intentions and backed up a little. 

“I’m not into guys who thinks the girl’s flirting on them. There’s a schedule stuck on your pinboard.” you nod your chin up, pointing to his back. “And it belongs to.. Seungcheol.”

The boys laughed at their friend, flustered in embarrassment. Some of them already hitting each other because they have never seen him so silent. You carried the Jaemin and Jaewon held your hands. 

“F-fine.” he rolled his eyes. “When do I start?” Seungcheol sat down on a massaging armchair. 

“Friday, that is tomorrow.” you kept your smile. He sighed at the sudden schedule. You chuckled with bitter. “I thought you said ’no complaints’?” 

“Too soon.” he excused. 

“My parents went on a vacation and my brother’s relocated to Japan. I’ll be busy for council camp. I’ll leave them to you.” you waved to the rest of the boys. “Hope you have a goodnight.” 

----------  A little over an hour since you left his apartment, Seungcheol received endless of savagery and laughs from the group. 

“If you weren’t such a jerk you wouldn’t have to come to this.” Jun hit Wonwoo so hard from laughing. 

“Hyung deserved it! Noona is so kind to everyone.” Dokyeom swayed in his seat.

“Everyone but me!” Seungcheol stood up, he flung his arms in the air. 

Jihoon laughed, “You just had to spread it.” 

Jeonghan, who knew a little of Seungcheol’s past, decided to cut the conversation. “If you didn’t.. well did that- I bet you, Y/N wouldn’t behave this way.” 

Seungcheol knew what he meant. It was only a mistake and he couldn’t believe you hated him for that. “Up until now you actually believe I was at fault, Han?” 

“I didn’t say anything further and I wasn’t siding on anyone.” Jeonghan laughed as he lightly punched Seungcheol. 

“Okay let’s end here.” Joshua chuckled. “Movie night everyone?” 

Seungcheol rested his head onto the pillow, he reflected on what had happened that time. What the heck has gotten into you Y/N? 

----------  “Here’s the bag for the diapers and milk. The onesies are in here too, good for 5 days. Bibs are at the pockets inside. Remember to read Jaewon books before he sleeps. Put Jaemin to sleep first, then read. If there are any problems,” you handed him the list. “Just call me. I gotta go. Nayoung’s waiting.” you pecked your nephews’ foreheads. “Be good to Uncle Seungcheol.” 

“Won’t I get a peck too?” he pouted with puppy eyes. 

“Keep dreaming.” you left as you shut the door behind you. 

Nayoung waved at you and gestured to hurry up. She had been your best friend since kindergarten. She knew about the incident and was quite disgusted of what Seungcheol had done. Once you got into the car, Nayoung was a little worried. “Is it alright if you leave the boys to him?” 

“He deserves a punishment.“ you said as you buckled up your seatbelt. “Let’s go?” 

“Let’s.”

[livingthervdream]

Yellowstone day 1

We awoke this morning with everyone in much better spirits! It was a much colder night than we are used to even with our house normally set at 67-69 degrees. I kept thinking to myself…this is what that show “Naked and Afraid” must be like but not really so afraid on our end…or really naked….just really cold. Our RV does have heat and A/C but in Yellowstone you can not run your generator from 8:00 pm to 8:00am so we just tried to bundle up with blankets. When we wake up at an early 9:30😳 I immediately turn on the heat to get the day started. GB ends up being the early riser on this trip which is ironic because at home he is ALWAYS the one sleeping in and I am the early riser. We get ready to start our day with a plan for Old Faithful. We head on the road and just soak in the scenery. I am going click crazy on my camera just trying to get it all. Not sure what I am going to do with all the hundreds of photos I am taking but do hope my computer at home will be ready to handle this major download! GB definitely has set the soundtrack for our vacation. He tries to stay old and classic with music by Willie Nelson, John Denver, Styx, Eric Clapton, CCR and Merle Haggard. I try to mix in a little Fleetwood Mac, Eagles and Jimmy Buffet ( I know some of you are groaning right now…I am just making sure they are well balanced!🏝). All have eyes on the road trying to be the first to spot an animal and yell which side of the car it’s on. We see a lot of buffalo just hanging out but all of us are just hoping to see the glimpse of a grizzly. We pull into Old Faithful, and as many have described, it is the DisneyWorld of Yellowstone. The parking lot is a mad town. Someone in Custer had told me off a couple apps you can download for times of when Old Faithful will erupt and other things to catch. The funny thing, she said, is that there is no cell service so the apps are basically useless while you are in the park. So us Bransons were just hoping on just getting lucky…which usually never goes in our favor. We start heading to Old Faithful right away and I see it steaming. I then hear a lady, who’s wearing a walking boot, yell to her counterparts behind her to hurry up she’s got 3 minutes. Way to go Bransons, we timed this just right! We didn’t get up close seats but really any seat was a great view. We got tons of pics and selfies as it went off. Many “oooohs” and “aaaahhhhs” were heard from the crowd, as well as a thank you clap from all when she was done. I overheard a ranger say that she does not spout off as long as she had a while ago. The ranger questions if she may be clogged from people throwing trash in…I honestly don’t see how that is possible as I feel this was heavily guarded but you never know I guess. We made our way to the museum while GB went to the gift shop to peruse ahead without worrying about kids messing with stuff. There was a kid section that had footprints of various animals that Libby immediately took off her shoes and out her feet on a grizzly’s paw print (GB would have flipped out about germs, but I just let it slide, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him…until he reads this I guess😬). Ali picked up a ranger hat to go with her ranger vest she got at Jewel Cave, Andrew got a water bottle with a scene from Yellowstone and Libby hit the jackpot. She got a backpack that had 4 little animal heads poking out of four holes: buffalo, bear, deer, moose. She put that backpack on and didn’t take it off till I made her when it was time to go to bed(she was going to sleep with it on). She definitely is the most creative out of the three. Many times she sits and plays pretend, acting out her most recently viewed episode of Paw Patrol or PJ Masks. She would sit in the car and give voices to each animal while playing as if she was the mom telling them what they could and could not do. This trip she has also began speaking for her Tummy. She has told us on many occasions that Tummy told her that he is hungry and will act out a deep voice speaking as Tummy. When you ask Tummy what he wants to eat, he will usually say ice cream but when really hungry he will sometimes just say food! There are times where she has to tell Tummy that now is not the time for ice cream and that he has to eat real food, to which he will either respond in a disappointed voice of “ok” or if he is feeling sassy he will answer “whatever!” There was one time where she said “I see dead people” to which GB and I look at each other and try not to bust out laughing with a slightly concerned look. For the record, she has not seen the movie and we think she was just being silly. I am sure this will cost us a pretty penny in psych bills but right now we play along and sometimes encourage it to get a good laugh! After the craziness of Old Faithful, we head for the lower west corner of Yellowstone to explore the geysers and hot springs. We had a very serious talk about how we needed to listen and stay close to Mom and Dad. We explained how the springs were and how it would burn you, I event went so far to say that if you fall in there will be nothing left of you as you will completely disintegrate. A little harsh, I know, but I wanted to get the point across especially as I myself was very nervous and worried especially with all the people around. I have never seen my kids act better. I guess it helped to scare them, because they did not stray far from us requiring no reprimanding. The Grand Prismatic Spring had to be one of our favorites. The color was unreal and the heat it gave off when the wind blew was hot it steamed up my sun glasses instantly! We got some real cool photos especially Ali with her hair blowing around her with the prismatic spring in the background. It was funny to see baseball camps strewn along the edges of the springs. With such a strong wind blowing I guess some people’s hats didn’t fit them that great. GB guesses about a couple hundred dollars of hats made it near the spring. I was kind of hoping we’d see one disintegrate but it seems they all landed where it really wasn’t hot enough for that to happen. Bummer! But I am sure, whoever lost their hat had to take a second to not go out there and get it since it wasn’t burning immediately to ashes. Guess everyone was to afraid to chance it. The day was winding down and we had brought stuff to take showers. We took the scenic route to Canyon Village through Norris where there were public showers we could use. We were actually making pretty good time till we hit a wall of stand still traffic. We sat in the car for about 15 minutes waiting till Andrew and Ali both chimed in that they had to use the bathroom and both needed to go number 2. Yup….that sounds about right. After not moving for yet another 10 minutes and no other cars comin the opposite direction, I decided to turn on my camera and head out for a walk to see what the issue was and how far up it was. As I was walking all I could think was “Keep aware of your surroundings”. I had a rock wall/ridge to my right and cars on my left as I walked the side of the road. I kept joking with some cars that if a bear comes I am hopping into their car….always a good laugh! I kept telling myself no bear is going to come barreling down the hill at me. I thought of friends of ours that the wife makes noises and wears a cowbell to scare away the bears…her husband laughs at her…right now I wanted her cowbell!!! I kept walking and finally came up to a woman, who had just returned from walking up further, who said that there was a herd of buffalo blocking the road and the ranger was there but they were not moving. To make bad things even worse, the blockage was still a ways up and our car was no where close. I walked back to the car, a little braver as I had not seen any bears on my way there, letting other cars know what was causing the lack of movement in traffic. When I told GB this, a big old “F this” came out of his mouth and we turned the car around to head the other direction especially to find the nearest bathrooms. We made our pit stop and then were presented two options. We could head back to where our traffic stop was in hopes that the buffalo have completed their crossing or head back the opposite direction and spend more time in the car to get to the next closest showers. We crossed our fingers and headed back to the traffic spot. Luckily, as we approached a consistent round of cars were coming from the opposite direction, their was still a line of cars but they were moving steadily. The road led us to the buffalo that were now calmly chewing grass on the side of the road not knowing how far they had backed up traffic. All we could say was what was told to us in Custer State Park. "Their park, their road!" We arrived at the showers in Canyon Village which were very needed. Our feet were hideous as all I had packed for myself and the three kids were keen closed toe sandals. So needless to say our feet will be all in desperate needs of pedicures when we return! After showers, everyone was in a much better mood and relaxed, that is except for Ali. Poor girl had been battling her swimmer's ear since just before Yellowstone. We (we meaning I, no way GB is going to be the bad guy to his little princess) have been putting 4 drops in each ear 2x/day with screams and crying due to the pain. I brought children's ibuprofen but we were down to the last drop and I knew she was going to need it bad when we got back to camp. She fought back the tears like a trooper. We approached another beginnings of a buffalo barricade but GB gently used the car to usher them along. I laughed and called him a buffalo herder. As I looked out the window, one man flicked GB off and another was yelling at him. I personally got upset (GB didn't care, things like that don't bother him as much as they do me). I was upset because I felt we did nothing wrong. We did the same thing our ranger did back in Custer to move the buffalo along. We did not ramp our speed, we did not hit them, we just moved slowly through as if were were buffalo ourselves to make a path for cars to pass by. No buffalo were harmed in the making of this scene and really didn't seem to care. But nonetheless, the people upset at us bothered me for the rest of the day...just couldn't shake it off! GB kept telling me we did nothing wrong, and this I knew, but it still bothered me. Once we got to camp, I raced to get Ali set up with her meds. I knew we were out of children's ibuprofen but I had ibuprofen pills for adults. GB recommended looking at the dosage to see if they would match up for her. Luckily 1 pull equaled her dosage that she took for children's! Winner!!! Now to just get her to take a pill. I coaxed her by drinking it with Gatorade (total special treat!) but it wouldn't go down and now she was just freaking out. Andrew then comes in big brother style and told her how when he first started applesauce helped him swallow the pill because it all blended together! Genius Andrew!!! Way to go big brother coming through in the clutch! Ali stopped her tears and started to calm. We had applesauce juice pouches in our pantry. She took two swigs on the pouch and she yelled in excitement "I did it" with arms held high in victory. The whole RV cheered and the mood went right back where they should be! Hot dogs and cheddar wurst were eaten for dinner and then we called it a night. GB and I stayed up with drinks under a sky that was filled with stars. GB saw a shooting star and I told him to make a good one! Today's adventure (that's what we call things on this trip) made up for all the mishaps yesterday. So much to do tomorrow, so excited for tomorrow, so happy for tomorrow!

[platonicteenwolf]

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part I

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: So it was really difficult to figure out a plot without giving the reader any specific characteristics and still have a character arc. This post will talk more about what those are but I’m trying my best to keep it as neutral as possible :)

She/Her Pronouns Version

He/Him Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

On the rural outskirts of a small California town called Beacon Hills, police officers and state troopers gather on a dirt road. At their sides, search dogs bark and whine, pulling their leashes taut. One by one, the officers click on flashlights and then glance to the lead for his signal. Finally, he gives a nod. Seconds later, a dozen streaks of light tear through the shadowy woods. A desperate search begun...

—————

*Bang Bang Bang*

“Stiles? What do you want?” I groaned. Rolling over in bed, I checked the time on my alarm clock. 2 AM.

“Y/N, Y/N, come on get up!” Stiles opened my door and walked into my room. “Come on, my dad got a call let’s go! Also - put some clothes on you looks stupid.”

I looked down at my pajamas with confusion. “What’s wrong with my dinosaur PJs?”

“Nothing- just- come on!”

I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a different outfit, grabbed my bag, then walked out of my room.

—————

Not far from those dense woods, a two-story home lies hidden under a canopy of trees. A gentle wind drifts into the open window of an upstairs bedroom where two hands thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. The work is fast and precise, fingers pulling each lace into a diamond mesh pattern. Knotting the last loop, sixteen year-old Scott McCall stands with the re-threaded stick.

Scooping a ball up from his bedroom floor, he gives the lacrosse stick a spin, testing his handiwork. A moment later, the re-threaded stick lands on his bed as Scott walks towards his bathroom door frame to do a few pull-ups.

After brushing his teeth, Scott looks up meeting his eyes in the mirror but he stops when he hears a sound coming from his window. Under the whispering wind, he hears rustling in the leaves outside.

Downstairs, the glass door to the porch slides open. Now armed with a baseball bat, Scott starts for the yard. Breath held tight, he moves cautiously off the porch steps. The sound of movement stops him cold.

Holding still, he peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. When his eyes wander up to the side of house he sees--

Before Scott even knows what’s happening, the figure breaks free from the trellis and comes hurtling toward him. He hollers in terror as an upside down face appears in front of him. He almost swings the bat before realizing who it is.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!”

“You weren’t answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?”

“I thought you were a predator!”

Feet caught in the trellis, Stiles hangs in front of Scott. A sixteen year-old with boundless energy, he continues talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation. He sputters out fragments of words like Scott just accused him of being crazy as he continues his explanation.

“I know it’s late, but you gotta’ hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police.”

“For what?”

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

Stiles then jumps down from the trellis and lands perfectly on his feet like it was the easiest thing in the world. Scott seems shocked to hear this news. A body? In Beacon Hills?

“A dead body!?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

As Scott takes a step back on his porch, Stiles takes this opportunity to jump over the railing now standing in front of his best friend.

Scott, still lost on the entire situation, asks “So, you mean like murdered?”

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?”

A now, extremely excited Stiles tells Scott, “That’s the best part. They only found half.” He looked like a child that just found the secret stash of candy in the cabinet. “We’re going”

“But- what- no way man, sophomore year starts tomorrow! I’m trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow! Why can’t you take Y/N?”

—————

After hopping over to the drivers side of the car I watched Stiles unsuccessfully climb towards Scott’s window and then fall off the trellis while almost getting hit in the face by a bat after scaring Scott.

As the two screamed at each other after getting startled all I could do was shake my head. “Dumbasses,” I muttered.

After the pair talked for a bit I heard my name being said and promptly tuned into the conversation.

“Why can’t you take Y/N?”

“Oh I did, they’re waiting in the car. You’re coming too.”

As Stiles gestured towards where I was sitting, I waved at Scott. He seemed unhappy being woken up so early. I wonder why?

—————

As we pulled up to the woods, Stiles’ beat-up jeep skids to a halt just beyond the heavily forested entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles rushes out with a flashlight in hand, eager to start the search.

“Are we seriously doing this” Scott opens the door to the jeep and steps out of the way so I could crawl out of the back where I’d been sitting.

“You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles starts to jog towards the hiking paths, ready to find the body as Scott and I hurry to keep up. “And what was that excuse about wanting to sleep before practice tomorrow? I guess sitting on the bench must be such a grueling effort.”

“Oh come on Stiles, he’s been practicing!” I retort, trying to defend Scott. I mean sure, his skills aren’t that good but at least he’s got the spirit.

“Thank you Y/N, see someone believes in me. Anyways, I’m gonna be playing this year. In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey! That’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one.” I smacked him on the arm and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And uh, what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?” Scott continued

“Also something I didn’t think about,” he admitted.

Rolling my eyes I teased, “Do you ever use that brain of yours Stilinski?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as we start climbing up a steep hill.

“It’s- comforting to know you’ve- planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Racing up the paths, Scott’s breath begins to shorten. “Maybe the uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight huh?” He leans back against the tree pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and begins to shake it.

I look towards him with concern “You okay?” He nods his head at me as Stiles continues ahead, but then slows down but not because of Scott. As we crest the hill, Stiles jumps down to the ground laying on his stomach. As I approach next to him he grabs my arm and tugs me to the floor, then Scott joins us as we look towards the clearing ahead. Below, flashlight beams scour the shadows, the police search just ahead. Unable to stand still, Stiles races forward.

“Stiles, wait up!” But quickly running out of air, Scott pulls his inhaler from his jacket. While he pauses to take a hit from it, I look towards where Stiles ran off to and realize he’s disappears up ahead. Suddenly I hear barking in the distance.

—————

Fanged teeth snapped ferociously at Stiles, sending him staggering away and falling right onto his ass. Search dogs yank back against their leashes just before tearing him apart.

“Stay right there!”

—————

I freeze, thinking I’ve been caught, but it’s not me the State Trooper was yelling at, however. Up ahead I see Stiles sitting on the ground surrounded by officers. I drag Scott behind a tree and push him up against the bark to hide from the numerous officers just a few meters away. Peering out from behind the tree ai see flashlight beams being shone in Stiles’ eyes, he puts his hands in the air as large, threatening figures hurry forward. “Shit, they got him,” I mutter under my breath. I look up at Scott and see his worried expression. He was about to say something when suddenly we hear,

“Hold on, hold on, this little delinquent belongs to me.” Oh thank god, Uncle Noah’s there.

He’s not really my uncle, I just call him that because he used to be my dads best friend so I’ve known him my whole life.

Deputy Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles seems to shrink under his glare. He’s definitely about to get it.

“Dad, how ya doing?”

“So, do you ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No... Well, not the boring ones.”

Sheriff Stilinski nods his head, seemingly thinking over the punishment Stiles is about to get. “So, where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow,” Stiles paused, catching his breath. “It’s just me, in the woods, alone...”

“Scott? You out there?” Sheriff Stilinski waved his flashlight, looking at all the surrounding trees. Hidden in the shadows, I look up at Scott, still pushed up against the tree and mouth to him “Don’t move”

“Come on Stiles, I know you’re not out here alone. Is it Y/N? Oh don’t tell me you’ve dragged them into this.” He looks back out towards the woods where Scott and I are hiding. “Y/N? Y/N/N, come on I know you’re out there.”

I look up at Scott and give him a reassuring nod. Stepping out from behind the tree, I look at Noah and walked towards him, giving a little wave. “Hey Uncle Noah, how are you tonight?”

“Oh come on.” He ran his hand over his face in a tired manner. I felt bad, he was probably stressed and we weren’t helping. “I expected better from you with this! And Stiles,” he turned pointedly towards the young boy, “quit corrupting them! They’ve been living with us for all of five months and you kids are already sneaking off!”

“Well to be fair dad we used to sneak off before they lived with us too.”

For the second time tonight I smacked him on the arm followed with a pointed look. “You’re not helping the situation right now Stiles.” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my right ear and glanced to my side to see Uncle Noah holding Stiles and I by our ears walking towards the rest of his unit.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” we both yelped.

“All right, you two, I’m taking you back to the car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy.”

—————

Watching Stiles and Y/N get escorted away, Scott steps out from the cover of the trees with an irritated sigh. Starting back, he tries to find his way out of the woods, but with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch black.

At a fork in the path, he pauses in confusion. He’s about to start off down one direction when he hears trampling footsteps in the distance. Scott holds still. Breath tightening more from fear than asthma, he reaches into his pocket for his inhaler when a herd of wild deer charge out of the darkness, soaring past him with the thunderous beat of hooves trampling the ground.

Startled, Scott drops the inhaler on the forest floor. Then, once again alone in the dark, he kneels down to the leaf-covered ground to search for the inhaler. Pulling out his cell phone, he turns on the flashlight. Guiding the phone’s light over the ground, Scott doesn’t find his inhaler but does manage to briefly illuminate... a face?

Dead eyes peer up from the pale, yet beautiful face of a young woman torn in half. Crying out in shock, Scott lurches up, tripping on his own feet and tumbling over the unearthed roots of a tree. Suddenly, he’s propelled down a leaf-covered slope, rolling head over heels right ditch.

Pushing himself up with a nearby fallen trees, a breathless Scott looks up at the embankment down which he just fell. He’s about to stand when a low, earthy growl stops him moving. Stops his breathing. Something crouches in the shadows right near him. Something, very large.

Scott slowly begins to turn around when the shape hurtles towards him.

For the briefest instant there’s a flash of razor-sharp teeth. Scott twists forward, crying out. Then, seeming to disentangle himself from the attacking animal, he scrambles back to his feet and into a panicked run.

Whipping through branches tearing at his skin and clothes, he races blindly through the forest slipping on the wet leaves from earlier’s rain. Crashing out of the woods and into the road, Scott whirls around to face an oncoming car. The driver swerves, almost clipping him. Horn blaring, the car hurtles past.

Breathless, Scott backs away from the woods. With the world spinning around him, dark blood sticks his tattered shirt to his back. As he lifts up his shirt he’s met with a deep and vicious looking bite engulfing his torso.

Struggling for calm, he whips around when he hears the strangest sound, the howling of a wolf. It echoes through the hills, over the trees, across the rooftops and into the night...

[platonicteenwolf]

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part I

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: So it was really difficult to figure out a plot without giving the reader any specific characteristics and still have a character arc. This post will talk more about what those are but I’m trying my best to keep it as neutral as possible :)

She/Her Pronouns Version

They/Them Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

On the rural outskirts of a small California town called Beacon Hills, police officers and state troopers gather on a dirt road. At their sides, search dogs bark and whine, pulling their leashes taut. One by one, the officers click on flashlights and then glance to the lead for his signal. Finally, he gives a nod. Seconds later, a dozen streaks of light tear through the shadowy woods. A desperate search begun...

—————

*Bang Bang Bang*

“Stiles? What do you want?” I groaned. Rolling over in bed, I checked the time on my alarm clock. 2 AM.

“Y/N, Y/N, come on get up!” Stiles opened my door and walked into my room. “Come on, my dad got a call let’s go! Also - put some clothes on you looks stupid.”

I looked down at my pajamas with confusion. “What’s wrong with my Spider Man PJs?”

“Nothing- just- come on!”

I dragged myself out of bed and threw on a different outfit, grabbed my bag, then walked out of my room.

—————

Not far from those dense woods, a two-story home lies hidden under a canopy of trees. A gentle wind drifts into the open window of an upstairs bedroom where two hands thread the laces on the head of a lacrosse stick. The work is fast and precise, fingers pulling each lace into a diamond mesh pattern. Knotting the last loop, sixteen year-old Scott McCall stands with the re-threaded stick.

Scooping a ball up from his bedroom floor, he gives the lacrosse stick a spin, testing his handiwork. A moment later, the re-threaded stick lands on his bed as Scott walks towards his bathroom door frame to do a few pull-ups.

After brushing his teeth, Scott looks up meeting his eyes in the mirror but he stops when he hears a sound coming from his window. Under the whispering wind, he hears rustling in the leaves outside.

Downstairs, the glass door to the porch slides open. Now armed with a baseball bat, Scott starts for the yard. Breath held tight, he moves cautiously off the porch steps. The sound of movement stops him cold.

Holding still, he peers left and right as he white-knuckles the bat, ready to swing. When his eyes wander up to the side of house he sees--

Before Scott even knows what’s happening, the figure breaks free from the trellis and comes hurtling toward him. He hollers in terror as an upside down face appears in front of him. He almost swings the bat before realizing who it is.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!”

“You weren’t answering your phone! Why do you have a bat?”

“I thought you were a predator!”

Feet caught in the trellis, Stiles hangs in front of Scott. A sixteen year-old with boundless energy, he continues talking upside down as if this were a perfectly normal way to have a conversation. He sputters out fragments of words like Scott just accused him of being crazy as he continues his explanation.

“I know it’s late, but you gotta’ hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon department and even State Police.”

“For what?”

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.”

Stiles then jumps down from the trellis and lands perfectly on his feet like it was the easiest thing in the world. Scott seems shocked to hear this news. A body? In Beacon Hills?

“A dead body!?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

As Scott takes a step back on his porch, Stiles takes this opportunity to jump over the railing now standing in front of his best friend.

Scott, still lost on the entire situation, asks “So, you mean like murdered?”

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“Hold on. If they found a body, what are they looking for now?”

A now, extremely excited Stiles tells Scott, “That’s the best part. They only found half.” He looked like a child that just found the secret stash of candy in the cabinet. “We’re going”

“But- what- no way man, sophomore year starts tomorrow! I’m trying to get a good nights sleep before practice tomorrow! Why can’t you take Y/N?”

—————

After hopping over to the drivers side of the car I watched Stiles unsuccessfully climb towards Scott’s window and then fall off the trellis while almost getting hit in the face by a bat after scaring Scott.

As the two screamed at each other after getting startled all I could do was shake my head. “Dumbasses,” I muttered.

After the pair talked for a bit I heard my name being said and promptly tuned into the conversation.

“Why can’t you take Y/N?”

“Oh I did, he’s waiting in the car. You’re coming too.”

As Stiles gestured towards where I was sitting, I waved at Scott. He seemed unhappy being woken up so early. I wonder why?

—————

As we pulled up to the woods, Stiles’ beat-up jeep skids to a halt just beyond the heavily forested entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve. Stiles rushes out with a flashlight in hand, eager to start the search.

“Are we seriously doing this” Scott opens the door to the jeep and steps out of the way so I could crawl out of the back where I’d been sitting.

“You’re the one always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles starts to jog towards the hiking paths, ready to find the body as Scott and I hurry to keep up. “And what was that excuse about wanting to sleep before practice tomorrow? I guess sitting on the bench must be such a grueling effort.”

“Oh come on Stiles, he’s been practicing!” I retort, trying to defend Scott. I mean sure, his skills aren’t that good but at least he’s got the spirit.

“Thank you Y/N, see someone believes in me. Anyways, I’m gonna be playing this year. In fact, I’m making first line.”

“Hey! That’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream. Even a pathetically unrealistic one.” I smacked him on the arm and gave him a glare. “What?” he asked innocently.

“Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asked

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“And uh, what if whoever killed the girl is still out here?” Scott continued

“Also something I didn’t think about,” he admitted.

Rolling my eyes I teased, “Do you ever use that brain of yours Stilinski?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as we start climbing up a steep hill.

“It’s- comforting to know you’ve- planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Racing up the paths, Scott’s breath begins to shorten. “Maybe the uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight huh?” He leans back against the tree pulling his inhaler out of his pocket and begins to shake it.

I look towards him with concern “You okay?” He nods his head at me as Stiles continues ahead, but then slows down but not because of Scott. As we crest the hill, Stiles jumps down to the ground laying on his stomach. As I approach next to him he grabs my arm and tugs me to the floor, then Scott joins us as we look towards the clearing ahead. Below, flashlight beams scour the shadows, the police search just ahead. Unable to stand still, Stiles races forward.

“Stiles, wait up!” But quickly running out of air, Scott pulls his inhaler from his jacket. While he pauses to take a hit from it, I look towards where Stiles ran off to and realize he’s disappears up ahead. Suddenly I hear barking in the distance.

—————

Fanged teeth snapped ferociously at Stiles, sending him staggering away and falling right onto his ass. Search dogs yank back against their leashes just before tearing him apart.

“Stay right there!”

—————

I freeze, thinking I’ve been caught, but it’s not me the State Trooper was yelling at, however. Up ahead I see Stiles sitting on the ground surrounded by officers. I drag Scott behind a tree and push him up against the bark to hide from the numerous officers just a few meters away. Peering out from behind the tree ai see flashlight beams being shone in Stiles’ eyes, he puts his hands in the air as large, threatening figures hurry forward. “Shit, they got him,” I mutter under my breath. I look up at Scott and see his worried expression. He was about to say something when suddenly we hear,

“Hold on, hold on, this little delinquent belongs to me.” Oh thank god, Uncle Noah’s there.

He’s not really my uncle, I just call him that because he used to be my dads best friend so I’ve known him my whole life.

Deputy Stilinski steps into the light past the growling search dogs. Stiles seems to shrink under his glare. He’s definitely about to get it.

“Dad, how ya doing?”

“So, do you ah, listen in to all of my phone calls?”

“No... Well, not the boring ones.”

Sheriff Stilinski nods his head, seemingly thinking over the punishment Stiles is about to get. “So, where’s your usual partner in crime?”

“Who, Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for the first day back at school tomorrow,” Stiles paused, catching his breath. “It’s just me, in the woods, alone...”

“Scott? You out there?” Sheriff Stilinski waved his flashlight, looking at all the surrounding trees. Hidden in the shadows, I look up at Scott, still pushed up against the tree and mouth to him “Don’t move”

“Come on Stiles, I know you’re not out here alone. Is it Y/N? Oh don’t tell me you’ve dragged him into this.” He looks back out towards the woods where Scott and I are hiding. “Y/N? Y/N/N, come on I know you’re out there.”

I look up at Scott and give him a reassuring nod. Stepping out from behind the tree, I look at Noah and walked towards him, giving a little wave. “Hey Uncle Noah, how are you tonight?”

“Oh come on.” He ran his hand over his face in a tired manner. I felt bad, he was probably stressed and we weren’t helping. “I expected better from you with this! And Stiles,” he turned pointedly towards the young boy, “quit corrupting him! He’s been living with us for all of five months and you kids are already sneaking off!”

“Well to be fair dad we used to sneak off before he lived with us too.”

For the second time tonight I smacked him on the arm followed with a pointed look. “You’re not helping the situation right now Stiles.” Suddenly I felt a sharp pain on my right ear and glanced to my side to see Uncle Noah holding Stiles and I by our ears walking towards the rest of his unit.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” we both yelped.

“All right, you two, I’m taking you back to the car and we’re going to discuss a little something called Invasion of Privacy.”

—————

Watching Stiles and Y/N get escorted away, Scott steps out from the cover of the trees with an irritated sigh. Starting back, he tries to find his way out of the woods, but with each step it becomes increasingly difficult to see in the pitch black.

At a fork in the path, he pauses in confusion. He’s about to start off down one direction when he hears trampling footsteps in the distance. Scott holds still. Breath tightening more from fear than asthma, he reaches into his pocket for his inhaler when a herd of wild deer charge out of the darkness, soaring past him with the thunderous beat of hooves trampling the ground.

Startled, Scott drops the inhaler on the forest floor. Then, once again alone in the dark, he kneels down to the leaf-covered ground to search for the inhaler. Pulling out his cell phone, he turns on the flashlight. Guiding the phone’s light over the ground, Scott doesn’t find his inhaler but does manage to briefly illuminate... a face?

Dead eyes peer up from the pale, yet beautiful face of a young woman torn in half. Crying out in shock, Scott lurches up, tripping on his own feet and tumbling over the unearthed roots of a tree. Suddenly, he’s propelled down a leaf-covered slope, rolling head over heels right ditch.

Pushing himself up with a nearby fallen trees, a breathless Scott looks up at the embankment down which he just fell. He’s about to stand when a low, earthy growl stops him moving. Stops his breathing. Something crouches in the shadows right near him. Something, very large.

Scott slowly begins to turn around when the shape hurtles towards him.

For the briefest instant there’s a flash of razor-sharp teeth. Scott twists forward, crying out. Then, seeming to disentangle himself from the attacking animal, he scrambles back to his feet and into a panicked run.

Whipping through branches tearing at his skin and clothes, he races blindly through the forest slipping on the wet leaves from earlier’s rain. Crashing out of the woods and into the road, Scott whirls around to face an oncoming car. The driver swerves, almost clipping him. Horn blaring, the car hurtles past.

Breathless, Scott backs away from the woods. With the world spinning around him, dark blood sticks his tattered shirt to his back. As he lifts up his shirt he’s met with a deep and vicious looking bite engulfing his torso.

Struggling for calm, he whips around when he hears the strangest sound, the howling of a wolf. It echoes through the hills, over the trees, across the rooftops and into the night...