#maybe his family was split for x reason so you still have the search for kerri

[flythesail]

It was a Choice to give Cassian a whole backstory show and offer only slightly more of his family than we would have had without it!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Salvation | Devil's Trap | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 7124

A/N: Whoop whoop! The end of season one!!! Thank y'all so much for reading and sticking with me. I've already been working on season two... ;)

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John had taped countless papers, newspaper clippings, scribblings, and charts of his research on the motel room’s walls. He sat at his paper-strewn desk with the Colt lying on it in front of him. “So this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just, nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail.”

“And that's when you took off,” Dean said.

John nodded. “Yeah. That's right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”

“Alright, so what’s this trail you found?” his elder son asked.

“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us.”

“Families with infants?” Sam chimed in.

“Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday.”

“I was six months old that night?” the younger brother asked, eyes puppy-dog-like.

You looked at Sam sadly. You knew he still blamed himself, and it broke your heart. John nodded again. “Exactly six months.”

“So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death… Jessica. It's all because of me?” his eyebrows turned upward even more.

“We don’t know that, Sam,” Dean argued gruffly.

“Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean,” the brunet threw back.

Dean shook his head frustratedly. “For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault.”

“Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem.”

“No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!” Dean yelled back.

“Boys, enough!” you commanded, standing.

All three men looked at you, surprised, but followed your directions and calmed down.

“So why's he doing it?” Sam asked after a moment. “What does he want?”

“Look I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save....” He looked down unhappily.

Dean sighed. “Alright, so how do we find it before it hits again?”

“There's signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and���”

“These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean said softly.

“A week before your mother died,” John replied, nodding. “And in Palo Alto, before Jessica. And these signs: they're starting again.”

“Where?” Sam asked.

“Salvation, Iowa.”

***

You and the brothers had been following John closely for hours as you sped toward Salvation, Iowa. Suddenly, John pulled his truck off the road. You shot a look at Dean, who pulled off behind his father.

“Goddammit!” John cried when he got out of his truck.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“I just got a call from Caleb.”

Dean’s shoulders tensed. “Is he okay?”

“He's fine. Jim Murphy's dead.”

Sam was surprised. “Pastor Jim? How?”

“His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place,” John explained.

“A demon,” you said. “The demon?”

The older man shook his head. “I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close.”

“What do we do?” the older son questioned.

“Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week,” John barked.

“Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?” Sam challenged.

“We check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?”

You all shook your heads. John nodded at you and turned back to his truck. He slammed his hand on his trunk and hung his head low.

“Dad?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. It's Jim,” John replied, never turning to face you three. “You know, I can't— This ends now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes.” He got back into his truck, and you and the boys followed suit. No one talked for the rest of the drive into Salvation.

***

You went with Dean as you normally had been doing on cases when you and the Winchesters split up. You headed to one of the two hospitals to search their birth records. 

Dean noticed a beautiful receptionist and walked over to her.

“Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked him.

“Oh, God, yes,” he smiled breathlessly.

You cleared your throat. “We’re working right now, so…” You held up your fake badge to show her. “Can you get us the records of every birth in the last year?”

She nodded. “Of course.” She threw one last longing look to Dean before heading off.

“You wanna keep it professional, officer?” You quirked a brow at him.

***

Later that day, you and the other Winchesters were called to meet Sam back at the motel room. He’d had another vision where the same thing that happened to him happened to a baby he’d met in his search for the six month old that would be attacked.

“A vision,” John said flatly.

Sam was rubbing his temples painfully. “Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling.”

“And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…?” his father trailed off.

“Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam explained.

“It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake,” Dean continued, crossing to the counter behind Sam to get some more coffee.

“Yeah,” Sam winced, “It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” John snapped at his oldest son.

“We didn't know what it meant.” Dean looked down shamefully.

“Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone, and you call me,” John stated sharply.

Dean threw his cup back on the counter, but you spoke before he could. “All due respect, dude, but Dean did call you.” John looked at you surprised as you continued. “He called you in Lawrence. Sam called when Dean was fucking dying. He’s got a better chance at winning the lottery than getting you on the phone.”

Dean put a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this attitude of yours, you're right,” John told you. He turned to his sons. “I'm sorry.”

“Look, guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through,” Sam said calmly.

“No they're not. No one is, ever again.”

Sam’s phone rang. “Hello?... Who is this?” He shot up next. “Meg. Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window… Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop… My Dad. I don't know where my Dad is.” He then hesitated for a moment before handing the phone to John.

“This is John,” he said. “I'm here.” A few moments passed before he breathed out a name. “Caleb?”

Sam and Dean reacted immediately, and you recognized that as the name of John’s friend they’d been using as a resource when their dad was missing. “You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go… I don't know what you're talking about… Caleb. Caleb!... I'm gonna kill you, you know that?” His boys approached him, taking either side. “Okay… I said okay, I'll bring you the Colt.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there… That's impossible. I can't get there in time, and I can't just carry a gun on the plane.” Another moment passed before John handed Sam’s phone back to him. He began to pace around the room. He explained to you that Meg had instructed him to go to a warehouse in Lincoln with the Colt alone.

“So you think Meg is a demon?” Sam questioned.

“Either that, or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter,” his father answered.

“What do we do?” you asked.

“I'm going to Lincoln.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

“It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people will die; our friends die.”

“Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got; you can't just hand it over,” Sam protested.

“Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires, no one's really seen the gun; no one knows what it looks like.”

“So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean questioned.

“Antique store.”

“You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?”

“Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference.”

“Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” argued the older son.

“I just— I just need to buy a few hours, that's all.”

Sam shot back, “You mean, for Dean, (Y/N), and me. You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?”

“No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home.” John’s voice broke. “I want… I want Mary alive. It's just— I just want this to be over.”

***

After you and the boys had handed off the fake gun to John, you headed to Monica’s house under the cover of night.

Dean and Sam sat with the gun between them, and the three of you watched through the window as Monica and her husband finished dinner.

“Maybe we could tell ‘em it was a gas leak. Might get ‘em out of the house for a few hours.”

“Sam, since when has that ever worked for us?” you countered.

“We could always tell ‘em the truth,” he suggested after a moment.

You and Dean just gave him a skeptical look. The three of you cringed and said, “Naaahhh,” in unison, making you giggle.

“I know I know. I just… with what's coming for these folks…” Sam trailed off.

 Dean shook his head at his brother. “Sam we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them.”

You looked back at the house for a moment before Sam spoke again. “I wonder how Dad's doing.”

“I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up,” Dean admitted.

“I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.”

You continued watching the house in silence.

“This is weird,” Sam broke the silence again. “After all of these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real.”

“We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always,” Dean responded.

“Yeah, but this isn't like always.”

“True.”

“Dean, ah… I wanna thank you,” Sam began.

Dean turned to his brother. “For what?”

“For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And, uh, I don't know I just wanted to let you know, just in case—”

“Sam, stop it,” you said. “You are not dyin’ tonight. Nobody is.”

“Except that demon,” Dean continued. “That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?”

Sam nodded, tears in his eyes. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and laid your head on his back. You continued watching the house from your position resting against Sam, who returned your gesture by holding your arm.

Dean then called his father. “Dad's not answering.”

“Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception’s bad,” you suggested.

“Yeah, well.” He didn’t sound convinced.

The radio suddenly started chattering with static.

“Guys, it’s coming.” You looked out at the light emanating from the home beginning to flicker.

The three of you sprang into action, grabbing the Colt and running into the house. Once inside, you were confronted by Monica’s husband.

“Get out of my house!” he yelled.

Dean fought against the man and pinned him against the wall with the baseball bat the man had been holding. “Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen! We are trying to help you.” He clearly had no patience.

A woman’s voice called from upstairs. “Charlie? Is everything okay?”

“Monica, get the baby!” the man yelled back.

“Don't go in the nursery!” you and Sam cried at the same time. You and Sam sprinted up the stairs after the woman and began to hear her moaning in pain. You raced into the nursery down the hall to find the woman flung back against the wall rising up to the ceiling. You saw a shadowy figure with glowing, yellow eyes standing over the baby’s crib.

“Rosie!” Monica screamed.

Sam raised the Colt and pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, the demon disappeared into curls of smoke.

Monica screamed and fell to the floor.

“Where the hell did it go?!” Sam yelled.

“I don’t know!” you yelled back.

“My baby!” Monica tried to move toward the crib, but Sam caught her. She fought him as you wrapped the baby in her blanket and pulled her out of her crib. Milliseconds later, the crib burst into flames. You held the baby to your chest and followed Sam and Monica down the stairs and out of the house.

Just as you made it outside, the nursery window exploded outward in a fiery blaze. You ran over to Dean and Monica’s husband who had just regained consciousness. 

“You get away from my family,” the husband told you firmly.

“No, Charlie, don't. They saved us,” Monica said, running into her husband’s arms. You handed her baby over to her, and she began to cry. “Thank you.”

You nodded with a sad smile. You turned to the boys who looked up at the burning house. You could see a shadowy figure in the window surrounded by the flames.

Sam tried to go back inside, crying, “It's still in there!”

You and Dean pushed him back. “No!”

“Guys, let me go! It’s still in there!” He continued struggling against you.

“No. It's burning to the ground, it's suicide!” Dean replied.

“I don't care!” Sam yelled back.

Dean shoved his brother one final time. “I do!”

You looked back up at the house and watched the demon disappear. The flames rose higher as you heard Monica’s husband calling 911.

“We’d better get out of here before the cops show up,” you told Monica. “Take care of yourselves.”

“We will. Thank you!”

You shoved the boys back to the Impala and took Dean’s keys from him.

“(Y/N), you are not driving my car.”

“I’ve already done it, Dean, and you are way too emotional to drive right now. I’ve got this.”

“Fine!” He got in the passenger’s seat next to you. “But I swear to god if it gets one scratch—”

“I know, I’m dead.”

***

You and the Winchesters still hadn’t heard from their father.

“Come on Dad, answer your phone, damn it,” Dean grumbled as he paced around. “Something’s wrong.”

Sam stared at the wall; unresponsive to his brother.

“You hear me? Something is wrong.”

Sam’s voice broke as he talked. “If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this.”

“Sam, you would’ve been killed,” you said.

“You don’t know that,” he argued.

Dean walked toward his brother. “So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?”

Sam stood. “Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am.”

“Well, that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around,” Dean responded.

“What the hell are you talking about, Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about.”

“Sam, I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over.”

The brunet scoffed. “What?”

“I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing,” Dean spat.

“That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom!” Sam yelled.

“You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back.”

Sam completely lost it and threw Dean back against the wall.

“Sam, stop!” You ran to the boys and tried to pull Sam off. He shrugged your grip off him harshly. 

“Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this; don't you say that!” Sam yelled.

Dean’s voice quieted. “Sam, look. The three of us… Dad… That's all we have. And it's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man… And without you or (Y/N) or Dad....”

“Dad,” Sam cried and turned away. He walked across the room.

Dean stayed where he was and took a few deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” you asked Dean quietly.

He nodded, but kept his gaze on his brother.

“He should have called by now. Try him again,” Sam instructed.

Dean pushed a few buttons and raised his phone to his ear. “Where is he,” Dean spoke angrily into the phone.

You looked up at Dean, concerned, as did Sam. 

“They’ve got Dad,” Dean informed you, snapping his phone shut.

“Meg?” you questioned.

Dean just nodded.

“What’d she say?”

“I just told you, sweetheart.”

“Okay, okay,” you ran a hand over your hair.

Dean grabbed the Colt and tucked it into his jeans.

“What are you doing, Dean?” Sam asked.

Dean was already grabbing his duffel bag. “We got to go.”

“Why?”

“Because the demon knows we’re in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It’s got Dad— it’s probably coming for us next.” Dean put his jacket back on.

“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”

“No, Sam, I’m with Dean. We’re not ready,” you said, shouldering your own bag. “We don’t know how many of them are out there, and we’re no good to anybody dead. Let’s go. And we need help.”

Dean looked at you and agreed. “I know a guy.”

***

“Bobby?” you asked. You hadn’t realized he was the man Dean was referring to knowing could help. 

“(Y/N),” the man breathed out. He wrapped you in a tight hug. “How the hell are you, kiddo?”

Tears formed in the corners of your eyes. “I’m okay. Listen, we’re in a tight spot. I know Dean told you a bit, but…”

“Come on in,” he said. He checked behind you and the boys to make sure you weren’t followed.

“How do you know Bobby?” Dean asked, walking around the man’s cluttered home. Books were stacked high in every corner, and empty beer bottles covered his kitchen table. 

‘Would it kill you to clean every once in a while?’ you thought.

“He found me when I was nineteen and bleeding out in the middle of nowhere,” you explained. “Saved my life and took me in, essentially. And then, uh, I split. My stupid twenty-year-old self couldn’t admit that being alone sucked. I didn’t want anyone to think I needed help. We got in a huge fight, and I left.” You turned to Bobby. “I’m sorry, by the way. I never told you that.”

“It’s okay, kid,” the man drawled. He handed Dean a round silver flask with a cross on it. “Here you go.”

“What is this, holy water?” 

Bobby said, “That one is.” He held out the other flask he was holding. “This is whiskey.” 

You giggled while Bobby and Dean took swigs of the drink.

Dean handed the flask back to him. “Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure we should come.”

“Nonsense. Your Daddy needs help.”

“Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything,” the man chuckled.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”

“Amen,” you commented.

Dean shot you a look.

“What?” you replied.

He just rolled his eyes.

“None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back,” Bobby shrugged.

Sam dragged his fingers along the worn pages of the book he was reading. “Bobby, this book: I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He sat on the edge of the desk across from Sam. “Key of Solomon? It’s the real deal, alright.”

“And these protective circles. They really work?” He gestured down to the intricate drawing covering the worn page.

“Hell, yeah. You get a demon in; they’re trapped. Powerless. It’s like a Satanic roach motel.” Bobby tapped the center of the page. 

You laughed. You loved his sense of humor. You wished your dad had been more like him, and you wished you hadn’t spent so much time as a teenager trying to go it alone.

“I’ll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you kids stepped in.”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?” you asked.

“Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops. This year I hear of twenty-seven so far. You get what I’m saying? More and more demons are walking among us; a lot more.” Bobby sounded scared for the first time since you met him. 

“Damn,” you commented. “Do you know why?”

“No, but I know it’s something big. The storm’s coming, and you kids, your Daddy— you are smack in the middle of it.”

Bobby’s dog began barking outside.

“Rumsfeld,” Bobby muttered.

The dog stopped barking with a sad whine. You looked out the window to see the chain the dog was tethered to broken and the dog himself nowhere in sight. 

“Something’s wrong,” the older man said.

At that moment, Meg kicked the door open and sauntered in. Dean slipped the holy water flask out of his pocket, and you grabbed a knife out of your jacket.

“No more crap, okay?” Meg sang.

Dean tried to go after her, but Meg sent him flying into a stack of books in the corner of the room.

“Hey!” you yelled, trying to take a swing at her. She sent you flying back into Dean. You groaned in pain as you heard Meg continuing to go after Sam for the Colt.

“You okay?” Dean asked you.

You nodded. “C’mon.” You stood shakily and used the wall for support; Dean just behind you.

“First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then, he leaves the real gun with you three chuckleheads. Lackluster, man. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?” you heard Meg telling Sam and Bobby in the other room.

You stepped into the door frame. “Actually, we were counting on it.” You smirked and looked up at the ceiling that had a Devil’s Trap etched into it. 

Dean spat, “Gotcha.”

You set to work tying Meg to a chair in the middle of the floor. She fought you hard, but there wasn’t much she could do given her limited space to move.

“Bitch,” she spat at you.

“Yeah, ditto,” you responded dryly. You stepped back from her.

“You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask,” she said sultrily.

Bobby came up next to you with a large canister of salt. “I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there, they ain’t getting in.”

Dean nodded and stood, moving around you to stand in front of Meg. “Where’s our father, Meg?”

“You didn’t ask very nice.”

“Where’s our father, bitch?”

You hated to admit it, but Dean’s interrogation was turning you on.

“Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t,” Meg smirked.

Dean lunged at her and put his hands on the chair arms. “You think this is a fucking game? Where is he?! What did you do to him?”

“He died screaming. I killed him myself!” she growled through gritted teeth.

Dean froze before slapping her across the face.

“That’s kind of a turn on; you hitting a girl,” she smiled.

‘Well, she’s not wrong,’ you thought.

“You’re no girl,” he said.

Bobby stood and moved to the older Winchester. “Dean.”

He turned away from Meg.

“You okay?” you asked him.

“She’s lying. He’s not dead,” he grumbled.

“Dean, you got to be careful with her. Don’t hurt her,” Bobby warned.

“Why?”

“Because she really is a girl; that’s why,” he explained.

You looked back at Meg and her labored breathing. Bobby explained that Meg had been possessed. Dean was furious at the idea of an innocent person being trapped inside her, and you loved that about him. You and the brothers immediately began an exorcism ritual.

“Are you gonna read me a story?” she quipped at the sight of the Book of Solomon Sam was holding.

Dean stepped in front of her. “Something like that. Hit it, Sam.”

Sam began reading the ritual off the pages of the book.

“An exorcism? Are you serious?”

“Oh we’re going for it, baby—” You’d never liked that nickname, but you loved how it sounded coming from Dean; just not directed at Meg. “—head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.”

Meg flinched at the Latin words coming from Sam’s lips. “I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna rip the bones from your body.”

“No, you’re gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where our Dad is.” His smirk was challenging.

Meg just smiled at him.

“Well, at least you’ll get a nice tan,” Dean bit.

Meg continued to shake in pain and gasped finally. “He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That’s when I slit his throat.”

Dean leaned down to her. “For your sake, I hope you’re lying. Cause if it’s true, I swear to god, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me god!”

Sam continued reading while wind started blowing through the room.

“Where is he?!” Dean shouted.

“You just won’t take ‘dead’ for an answer, will you?”

“Where is he?!”

“Dead!” she yelled through gritted teeth.

Dean screamed, “No, he’s not! He’s not dead! He can’t be!”

You looked up at him. “Dean—”

“What are you looking at? Keep reading,” he said gruffly to his brother.

“He will be!” Meg cried.

Dean stopped Sam from reading with a raised hand. “Wait! What?!”

“He’s not dead. But he will be after what we do to him,” she explained breathlessly.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t.”

“Sam!”

“A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City," Meg admitted, breathing laboriously.

“Missouri? Where, where? An address!”

“I don’t know,” she cried.

“And the demon— the one we’re looking for— where is it?” Sam interrogated.

“I don’t know! I swear! That’s everything. That’s all I know,” Meg whined.

Dean stalked around her, face set in anger. “Finish it.”

“What? I told you the truth!” Meg screamed, pulling against her restraints.

“I don’t care,” Dean responded.

“You son of a bitch, you promised!” She continued to fight harder despite the pain she was obviously in.

“I lied! Sam? Sam! Read.”

Sam pulled Dean aside. “Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is.”

“She doesn’t know.”

“She lied.”

“Sam, there’s a girl trapped in there somewhere,” you said. “We gotta help her.”

“You’re gonna kill her,” Bobby broke in. “You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it and that girl is going to die.”

“We can’t just leave her like that, though!” you protested.

“She is a human being,” Bobby said softly.

“And we’re gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it,” Dean barked.

Sam hesitated.

“Finish it,” his brother commanded.

Sam obliged, taking a deep breath before continuing. Meg threw her head back and screamed, the demon leaving through her mouth in a cloud of inky blackness. It shot up into the Devil’s Trap on the ceiling, and Meg’s head fell forward.

You looked at her, unsure of whether or not it was really over. She slowly lifted her head, and you watched blood drip from her nose and lips.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. “Call 911, get some water and blankets!” you ordered. “Boys, help me!”

Meg whispered, “Thank you.”

“Shh, shh,” you told her. “Take it easy, okay?”

The boys lifted her off the chair and she yelped in pain. You had them lower her into your lap, so you could cradle her head as a makeshift pillow.

“We’re sorry. We got you, it’s okay,” you assured her.

“A year,” she muttered sadly.

“What?”

“It’s been a year.”

“Shh, just take it easy,” Sam told her.

“I’ve been awake for some of it. I couldn’t move my own body. The things I did…  It's a nightmare.” Her voice was broken in soft sobs as blood spilled from her lips and nose.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, brushing her hair back with your hand.

“Was it telling us the truth about our Dad?” Dean asked.

“Dean—” you scolded.

“We need to know.” He looked at you sharply before looking back down at Meg.

“Yes. But it wants... you to know... that... they want you to come for him.”

“If Dad’s still alive, none of that matters.”

Bobby came back in with a blanket and glass of water. You helped Meg drink while the boys covered her in the blanket.

“Where is the demon we’re looking for?” Sam asked her.

“Not there. Other ones. Awful ones,” she answered weakly.

“By the river. Sunrise.” Her head lolled to the side in your lap, eyes never closing and reopening again. 

“ ‘Sunrise’,” Dean muttered. “What does that mean? What does that mean?”

But Meg was gone. You continued to brush her hair back with your hand, looking down at the poor girl’s face sadly. Tears rose to your eyes. You felt awful for her. Getting possessed and not being in control of your own body was quite literally your worst nightmare.

“You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here,” Bobby told you. The four of you rose from the ground and headed to the door.

“What are you gonna tell them?” Dean asked.

“You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I’ll figure something out.” He handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam. “Here, take this. You might need it.”

“Thanks,” Sam grinned.

“Thanks... for everything. Be careful, alright?” Dean told Bobby.

“You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won’t even try to shoot him this time.”

You gave him a lopsided smile before pulling him into a hug again. “Thank you. I promise I’ll call.”

“You better, kid. Or I’ll hunt your ass down.”

***

About a day and a half later, you and the boys had rescued a badly beaten John from Sunrise Apartments in Jefferson City, Missouri. You’d found an abandoned cabin deep in the woods to shelter in to attempt to make a game plan to go after the demon. You could tell Dean was conflicted about the fact that he’d had to use one of the Colt’s bullets to save Sam but didn’t regret the choice at all. His confliction came from whether or not his dad would kick his ass to hell and back.

“How is he?” Sam asked. You were busy cleaning up the cuts on his badly beaten face that the demon Dean had killed gave him.

“He just needed a little rest, that’s all. How are you?” Dean questioned, referencing the beating Sam had suffered on the rescue mission.

Sam shrugged. “I’ll survive. Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you?”

“I don’t think so,” you said. “We couldn’t have found a more way-out-the-way place to hunker down.”

A moment of silence passed before Sam turned to his brother. “Hey, uh.... Dean, you, um, you saved my life back there.”

Dean smirked. “So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?” That had been yet another thing the brothers had fought over.

“Man, I’m trying to thank you here,” Sam chuckled.

“You’re welcome,” the older brother replied.

“All done,” you told Sam. You crossed the room to his brother and sat down next to him.

Dean paused a moment before talking again. “Hey, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah?”

“You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there.”

You sighed. “You had no choice, dude.”

“Yeah, I know, that’s not what bothers me.”

“Then what does?”

“Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For Sam, for my dad... for you..." he couldn't stand to look at you during that admission— "the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh, it scares me sometimes.”

You put a hand on his. “I get it. Me too.”

He gripped your hand tightly as John walked into the room. “It shouldn’t scare you. You did good.”

“You’re not mad?” Dean asked.

“For what?”

“Using a bullet.” The elder son’s face was twisted in confusion.

John chuckled. “Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I: we can get pretty obsessed. But you, you watch out for this family. You always have.”

Something changed in Dean’s face. “Thanks.”

The wind suddenly picked up outside, and the lights in the room flickered.

“It found us. It’s here,” John breathed out.

“The demon?” Sam questioned, standing on high alert.

“Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door,” John ordered.

“Already done,” you said.

“Well, check it, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam said and left the room.

“Dean, you got the gun?” John asked. “Give it to me.”

Dean took the Colt out of his jeans. “Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared.”

“This is me. I won’t miss. Now, the gun, hurry,” John commanded.

Dean hesitated and looked down at the gun. You looked between the two men, confused as to what was going on.

“Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?”

Dean backed up. “He’d be furious.”

John turned away from the window. “What?”

“That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn’t be proud of me; he’d tear me a new one.” Dean cocked the gun and pointed it at John. He pushed you behind him, covering you with his free arm protectively. “You’re not my Dad.”

“Dean, it’s me.” John looked at him like he was crazy.

“I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain’t him,” Dean responded.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Stay back.”

Sam came into the room, shocked to see Dean pointing the gun at John. “Dean? What the hell’s going on?”

“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John scoffed.

“No, he hasn’t. It’s not your dad, Sam,” you said.

“I think he’s possessed. I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.” Dean began to get upset.

John protested, but Sam turned to you and Dean. “Dean, how do you know?”

Dean was fighting back tears. “He’s... he’s different.”

“You know, we don’t have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you’ve gotta trust me,” John stated firmly.

Sam stepped back behind you and Dean. 

“Fine. You’re all so sure, go ahead. Kill me,” John spat, seeming emotional. He looked down and waited. Dean held the gun on him, but couldn’t pull the trigger.

“I thought so.” John looked up grinning; eyes yellow with snake-like slits running down the middle.

Sam lunged at him, but was thrown and pinned against the wall. 

“You son of a—” John threw you back against the wall next to Sam, too; cutting you off. Dean shouted your name but ended up pinned as well.

John picked up the Colt that Dean had dropped. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”

“It’s you, isn’t it? We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Sam stated.

“Well, you found me,” the demon grinned.

“But the holy water?” the younger son asked in reference to the bit he'd splashed on him during the rescue.

“You think something like that works on something like me?” he taunted.

You tried to fight against the force that had you pinned down, but couldn’t.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Sam screamed.

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact—” he put the gun down on the table, “—here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy.”

Sam looked down at the gun, but nothing happened.

“Well, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this... this is worth the wait.” He stalked over to Dean who struggled against his power. “Your Dad: he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi,' by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”

“Let him go, or I swear to god—”

The demon cut Dean off. “What? What are you and god gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter. The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand.”

Dean mockingly groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You’re the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” The demon smiled maliciously. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“You son of a bitch,” Dean spat.

“I wanna know why. Why’d you do it?” Sam asked.

“You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?” He turned back to Dean. “You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything.” He turned back to Sam and walked over to him. “You want to know why? Because they got in the way.”

“In the way of what?” Sam asked.

“My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you.”

“Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing,” Dean remarked.

The demon strutted back over to him. “Funny, but that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Masks all that nasty pain; masks the truth.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Dean ground out.

“You know, you fight, and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam: he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you. And (Y/N)? Your thing with her is pretty pathetic, I gotta say.”

“I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em,” Dean challenged, smiling. John looked at Dean and backed up, putting his head down. When he looked back up, Dean yelled in pain.

“What are you doing to him?! Stop!” you cried, fighting against your invisible restraints even harder.

Dean began bleeding heavily from his chest. “Dad! Dad, don’t you let it kill me!”

You struggled as hard as you could to get free, but you helplessly watched blood flow out of Dean’s mouth.

“Dad, please.” Dean’s cry broke your heart just before he passed out.

“Dean!” you and Sam yelped. You were suddenly let go, and you dove across the floor to Dean. He slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely.

“Dean, Dean, look at me, baby, please,” you cried. You looked up at Sam pointing the gun at John as you pulled Dean into your lap.

“You kill me, you kill Daddy,” the demon taunted Sam. 

“I know.” He fired the gun and shot it in the leg.

Sam rushed over to you. “Dean? Dean, hey? Oh god, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Where’s Dad?” Dean groaned, coming back to.

“He’s right here. He’s right here, Dean.”

“Go check on him.”

You stayed with Dean, crying as you brushed a hand over his cheek. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled despite the situation.

“Shh, shh, stop it.” You shook your head. You turned the palm of your hand up that had been sitting on his chest. It was completely turned red. “Oh, my god.”

He grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over yours. “I’m okay.”

You turned back to John and Sam as the older man yelled, “Sammy! It’s still alive. It’s inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son! Do it now!”

“Sam, don’t you do it. Don’t you do it,” Dean pleaded.

“You’ve gotta hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!” John begged.

“Sam, no!” you said.

“You do this! Sammy! Sam!” The demon suddenly fled from John, and the man collapsed on the ground.

John looked up at Sam accusingly. You called the brunet over to you. “You gotta help me. We gotta get him to a hospital now,” you cried. You and Sam shouldered Dean and brought him to the car while he groaned in pain.

You sat next to him in the backseat. His body was slumped over against the door, and you leaned against his chest to make sure his heart was still beating. Or, that was what you told yourself, at least. Despite the situation, you found the feeling of him against you comforting.

Sam got his father down in the car and began to speed away from the cabin.

“Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital’s only ten minutes away,” Sam told his father.

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first— before me, before everything.”

Sam looked up at you and his brother in the rearview mirror. ��No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon—”

Suddenly, the car was thrown to the side and continued to skid down a hill. You held Dean against you despite the blood soaking into your hair and clothes and silently prayed for this all to be over. You could feel the side of the car had been pushed in on top of your legs, and finally, the car stopped moving. 

“Dean!” you cried. “Guys!” No one was responding to you. “Dean!”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

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[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 6

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, ofc, omc Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 6k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter. 

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Beacon Hills’ bloody underbelly is making it pretty damn hard for him to keep his promise.

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real, and old family secrets rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive?

Maybe, the real question is: How long will they want to?

Chapter Summary: You go full Charlie Kelly and start to put all the pieces together. Stiles knows more than he lets on, but for some reason you trust him anyway. 

A/N: check me out on ao3 (dork_knight) for the full lore version!

Taglist: @eaterof-concrete, @m30wk1ttycat

You played and replayed the video at least a hundred times, over and over again, examining every poorly shot, grainy frame until your eyes burned. You were frantic—a rabbit, picking her den apart, ripping her fur out, searching for all the minute flaws and misplaced straw; a girl, chewing her cheek bloody, tearing at her tights, desperately looking for some kind of explanation that wouldn’t completely shatter her fragile grasp on reality. 

It would be one thing if it was just the video. You could easily rationalize the video away; you’d seen enough fan-made edits of Buffy and Twilight to know that amateur editors were hardly amateurs anymore—but it wasn’t just the video. It was the video, and the gutted video clerk, and the mangled bus driver, and the severed woman with wolf fibers found her butchered corpse—all interconnected by one very furry, clawed, fanged… thing. 

Rolling onto your back, you scrubbed at your eyes, fingers cruel and violent in their attempt to scour away images of blood, and death, and monsters. There had to be an explanation. A rational explanation. Your gaze reflexively drifted towards the charm bundle on your windowsill, propped up against a few of your favorite novels.

The books were old, spines creased and splitting at the corners from little fingers and a lot of love. They were your mom’s before they were yours; you read them together under the covers whenever it rained. For a long time, you kept them hidden away under your bed with all the other things that might crumble your brittle will, but the yellowing pages steeped in memories didn’t seem so haunting anymore. You were already halfway through the stack, consuming the faded ink like a fiend in the night. It was odd; there wasn’t much that had changed since now and then. Really, only one thing. It made sense, you supposed after some thought. Your childhood favorites: Nancy Drew, Sherlock Holmes, the Hercule Poirot novels, they were exactly the kind of thing a sheriff’s son would appreciate.

The largest book in the pile was your complete collection of Sherlock Holmes. You chewed on your lip, eyes tracing the elegant swoops and swirls illuminated on the spine. Words curled along your brainstem in time with the loops, breaking through the buzzing in your mind with quiet British flourish: When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

Your nose scrunched, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Surely, you hadn’t eliminated all logical explanations yet. Surely. 

The metallic embellishments glinted at you, taunting you with their unmistakable presence and insistent reminder of your evening’s unavoidable ending. There was only one place to go for the improbable, after all; you just had to get past your pride and everything you believed to be true. 

Before you could finish putting on your shoes, your dad found his way into your room. He lingered on the border of the black cherry floor. His stance was awkward, unsure of his footing, and you froze with your shoelace in hand. After a moment of stilted silence, he cleared his throat and loosened his tie from its chafing Windsor knot, “I just wanted to let you know I’ll be out later than usual.”

Nodding, you tied your laces into neat bows and pulled the wrinkles in your tights straight, “Parent Teacher Conferences, right?”

“Mhm,” he paused and attempted a smile. The edges were stiff, as if his mouth had forgotten the movement, at least when directed at you, “Should I be worried?”

It was his attempt at a joke; you knew that. You still felt a flutter of anxiety. Despite Stiles’s reassurances, you weren't so cavalier about breaking the rules. “All A’s,” you finally said, quietly to your feet. 

Your dad gave you a real smile; smaller than his previous attempt at playfulness, but this one was your favorite. He was proud. It’d been a long time since he’d looked at you with anything other than grief and unease. “That’s my girl.” He rapped his knuckles against your door frame and said, “There’s takeout money on the table. Don’t stay out too long; there’s a—”

“Curfew, I know.” You slung your bag over your shoulder and fiddled with the strap, “I’ll be back soon.”

He didn’t ask you where you were going. He never did. You weren't sure what that said about your relationship, but you didn’t want to think about it any longer than you had to. There were far more pressing things to dwell on.

Maggie was in her kitchen when you opened the door to her house. It was cozy, small; she'd inherited it from her mother when she passed years ago. There were still signs of her 70s nostalgia all over every room. The shag carpet was horrendous, but you kind of liked the color. The muted green almost looked like a bed of moss, like something out of a fairytale.  You had your own key; you’d had one since you were old enough to be a latchkey kid—even though you were never really on your own for long. There was always someone around to help you with your homework, bake you brownies without getting shell in the batter, read you stories about far away places and imaginary worlds. You’d had a wonderful childhood until it ended; some people weren’t that lucky. You knew that you were fortunate to have twelve years of Rockwellian bliss; it was more than a lot of people got. Knowing, however, still didn’t make the after any easier. 

“Want a scone?” Maggie’s head was buried in the oven, steam curling around her shoulders. She emerged with a tray of browned lumps in pink oven-mitted hands, “They're slightly burnt, but it’s not my fault. My timer betrayed me.”

You didn’t reply. You chewed on your lip and studied the plants hanging from the ceiling. The Angelica was in full bloom, little clusters of white fuzzy fireworks. The roots were supposed to ward off evil. You would’ve scoffed at the thought a week ago. Now, there was a lingering ‘what if’ you couldn’t shake. 

You sighed quietly, the exhaustion rattling through your chest, and trailed your gaze to the next plant. Skullcaps were your favorite, not because they were supposed to induce visions, obviously; you liked the blossoms. The fluted periwinkle petals certainly looked magical. You picked a flower from the lowest stem and rolled it between your fingers, “You really believe in this shit, right?” You looked up from your hands and studied Maggie’s face carefully, “It’s not all a scam?”

The anticipated gasp carried through the kitchen, followed by the clang of a plonked baking sheet, “I resent the very implication.”

“I’m serious.” You stared at Maggie’s back, watching for any tell-tale signs of tension or rigidity, “Do you really believe that witches are real and wolfsbane can kill werewolves?”

“I will not be abused in my own home,” there was a lilt in Maggie’s voice, a flippancy that usually made your lips twitch into a smile, but Maggie's hand trembled and sent the scone on the edge of her spatula to the floor. Maggie dropped to her knees and scooped the crumbling pieces into a pile with desperate hands, oddly frantic for something as silly as a dropped pastry. 

You squatted next to her and rested your hands over Maggie’s until they stilled. “Mags,” you were quiet, gentle in your sweeping, but Maggie didn’t seem soothed by the clean floor. 

Maggie’s chin lifted, but her eyes zeroed in on the tip of your nose instead of your eyes. “Babe.”

You gripped your knees, clinging to the caps with ragged nails and flexed knuckles, like your bones were the only solid thing left in the room. “Can you be serious for once in your life, please.” Your tongue went heavy, adhering to the floor of your mouth, effectively sealing everything else you couldn’t bring yourself to say: Please, I think I’m losing my mind, and I don’t know how much longer I can white-knuckle it.  

Maggie turned towards the counter carelessly, and her pinky brushed against the cookie sheet. She let out a sharp hiss through her teeth and shook her hand in the air. “Why does it matter?” Her words were muffled through the blistering finger in her mouth, “People buy what they want to buy.”

Your empathy was thinning and so was your patience. Your teeth gnashed, and you winced when your tongue got in the way. “I don’t give a shit about your delusional customers. You know what I mean.”

“See, ‘delusional,’” Maggie stuffed a scone into her mouth even though it was still steaming. Her eyes watered as she struggled to swallow the wad of blueberry and oatmeal lodged against the roof of her mouth. “Why are we even talking about this?” she said thickly, throat clogged with congealed crumbs and something skittish in her eyes. She bent over the sink and turned the water to cold; you weren't entirely sure if she was soothing the burns on her tongue or simply avoiding eye contact.

“There’s something happening here,” your voice trembled, much to your disdain, and you were further horrified by the stinging in your tear ducts, “and I don’t know what to do.”

Maggie’s head whipped towards you, wetting her hair and splattering her lenses with water droplets that dripped onto her nose, “You don’t have to do anything. That’s not your job.” She clutched your shoulders with desperate fingers, digging into your scapulae until it hurt, “Your job is to go to school, get good grades, and live happily ever after.”

You shook off her hands and wiped your nose against your shoulder, “Why won’t you just give me a straight answer?” 

“Well, I am bi–”

“Maggie,” you struggled for words until there was only one left on your tongue, “please.”

A blank expression fell over her face, and then Maggie seemed to sink through the floor even though she was still standing. “Did you read the book?”

You could barely hear her. Your nose shriveled towards your brows, “What book?”

Her eyes shined with something; you couldn’t quite define it. There was a glimmer of remorse, but you couldn’t make out the rest. “‘Beacon Hills’ Bloodlines’.”

For a moment, you were too confused to be frustrated, “Not really.”

Confusion became bewilderment when Maggie left the kitchen without a word. She returned with a thick book; though, book wasn’t quite accurate. It was really a stack of pulp parchment barely held together with a piece of threaded twine. It looked older than the Bloodline’s journal; you could see a few pages sticking out from the others, and the spine was in desperate need of re-stitching. You reluctantly took the pages from Maggie’s hands after she shook it in your face a couple times. 

Maggie was quiet when she finally spoke, “Read the journal.” She nodded towards the new book, “That too.”

You frowned at the cover and held it out in front of you like it was contaminated. “Why are you being so weird about this? Just tell me.”

Maggie looked at you, and the most peculiar sensation rolled down your spine. Maggie's eyes were so present, like a shotgun blast, like a meteor shower. Her voice wasn’t even close to loud, but it was just as piercing as her stare, “I made a promise; I have to keep at least part of it.”

Your forehead creased, “Wha...that’s even weirder. Are you fuckin’ Gandalf? Just say it.” 

“Trust me,” Maggie’s gaze shifted to the floor, and you almost melted with relief, “there are some things that you’re better off not knowing.”

“Great. Thanks, Obi-Wan,” you rolled your eyes and crammed the bound parchment into your bag, “I’ll figure it out myself.”

A cool hand cupped your cheek before you could leave. You grudgingly met Maggie’s gaze, adjusting your grip on the strap of your bag.  

Maggie held onto your shoulders, a breath away from shaking you. “Promise me, you won’t do anything stupid.”

You grimaced, “I–” A flash in Maggie’s eyes dried all the words on your tongue.

“Promise.”

“Promise,” you mumbled.

Maggie finally let you leave, and your feet felt heavier than they did when you walked into Maggie’s apartment. Your bag was heavier, so perhaps it wasn’t all an illusion. The guilt, however, was certainly playing a part in your sagging shoulders. You chewed on a thumbnail and slipped into the comfort of denial. It didn’t count as a broken promise if you didn’t really know what you were promising.

Your dad was still gone when you got home, and you were relieved. Solitude was your only comfort with all this dread chilling your blood. You weren't good with the unpredictable, not anymore. You tried to study it, the way you did with dead languages and theoretical physics, but the methodology wasn't clear. You just wished, for once, you were as scary as people believed. 

There was one thing you could do—or rather two. One was on your desk, and the other was at the bottom of your bag. 

You started with the journal, and your hair quickly became a nuisance. Every time you bowed your head to get a better look at the messy scrawl, wispy strands obscured your vision. You tied your hair back and nibbled on your lip, struggling to determine if a smudged loop was an ‘a’ or an ‘o.’ They didn’t have computers in the 1800s, you knew that, but it wouldn’t have killed Maggie’s great-great-great-grandmother to quill with a little less ink. Neat cursive was hardly as taxing as cholera. 

The pain at the base of your skull was unbearable by the time you made it through half of the entries. Your impatience was rapidly fraying, with yourself and with the lack of insight. Maybe, this was all an elaborate stall—or maybe Maggie really didn’t know anything. 

You flopped back against your pillows and starfished your limbs across your bed until all your joints and muscles unkinked. “Fuck me.” Your eyes flicked down your legs, and you glowered at the journal. It was goading you, opened to the middle and sprawled across your thighs, staring at you and all your incompetence. 

Your thumbs dug a trench in your skull as you tried to rub the throbbing out of your temples.

One more page. You could read one more page. 

You flipped the page, careful with the crumbling corner. The parchment was cluttered with names and arrows; there were a few illustrations too, sketched portraits of the people memorialized on paper. It was inked chaos, but only one word stood out to you. In a large curling script, Hale was spread all over the complicated family tree. You gnawed on your lip and bent your head closer to the small description at the top of the page: The Hale pack founded Beacon Hills in 1856, saving the town from desolation with their wealth. The pack has several branches, extending across the state. They continue to be a prevalent force in their world. 

The bloodlines were difficult to follow with all the different branches and untimely deaths. As far as you could tell, the line was documented all the way to 2002. There were a few different sets of handwriting; the style changed every few decades or so, and you flipped to the end of the family line just to check for Maggie’s chicken scratch. You didn’t find her handwriting, but you did notice something familiar on the last line. Derek Hale. 

You knew, of course, that Derek would likely be included, but your breath hitched when your finger traced over the notation inscribed next to almost every single one of his family members’ names: Deceased: Arson. Laura Hale was still alive on the tree, and the thought of documenting her death—of giving her an end date —it stole all the air from your lungs. 

Your eyes burned, and you quickly flipped back to the start of the Hale bloodline. A few dozen county death records later, the burning in your corneas was due to the strain of one too many computer searches. Still painful, but you much preferred blue light sting to the threat of tears. You focused on it, on the ache; it was so much quieter than all the thoughts fighting you for their turn. They were so loud, a million ravenous locusts buzzing, feasting on your ear canal. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, what they were trying to tell you—what they wanted you to believe. 

Derek Hale couldn’t be a werewolf because that would mean werewolves were real, and if werewolves were real, how many other monsters were lurking in the dark? How many creatures from Maggie’s stories were waiting for someone to separate from the herd, biding their time until they could sink their teeth into human flesh?

There was only so much you could find online and in Maggie’s books. Certain secrets had yet to be written. 

It was disturbingly easy to find out where Stiles lived. The receptionist at the Sheriff’s station was all too happy to give you his address when you gave her your name. You finally stumbled upon the one perk of being an infamous, pathetic half-orphan: blind faith. 

His house was smaller than yours, and you were jealous. All the empty space just made the silence worse, you found. You could see a few spots where the paint was peeling when you got closer, and you smiled at the shoddy patch work. You wondered who tried to fix it. You hoped it was Stiles; you could see the paint in his hair, maybe smeared across his cheek from an ill-advised attempt to scratch his nose. It was adorable. 

You knocked on the door and clutched Maggie’s books tighter to your chest. You’d expected Stiles to answer the door, but he didn’t. You didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to you that someone else would be home until Sheriff Stilinski opened the door, but you felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner. The Sheriff looked just as surprised to see you; at least, he had an actual reason. 

“Oh.” You blinked and devolved into a monosyllabic moron, “Hi.” 

Obviously, you knew Stiles was Sheriff Stilinski’s son, but for some reason the idea of them occupying the same place at the same time was dumbfounding. YOur mind couldn’t make sense of it. There was the Sheriff in one box, with all your grief, all your pain, and then there was Stiles. You didn’t fully know what was in his box, but you knew it was good. 

“Hey, kid,” Sheriff Stilinski smiled through his confusion, “you okay? Did something—”

“I’mheretoseeStiles,” all your words were smooshed together in one big exhale. 

The Sheriff looked even more confused for a moment, and then he gave you a little conspiratorial grin. “He’s up in his room. Go ahead.” 

You nodded absently and followed him inside. You stopped thinking about the hefty pile of books in your arms when you noticed the slight limp in Sheriff Stilinski’s step. “Are you okay?” 

The Sheriff followed your gaze and waved his hand, “It’s nothing. Barely a scratch.” 

You hesitated at the foot of the stairs, looking for blood or something equally horrific. He had no reason to lie to you, but you’d gotten used to the worst case scenario. “You sure?”

The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened with his smile, “You sound like my son.”

You mouth ticked up slightly, “That’s not an answer.”

Sheriff Stilinski had a nice laugh, you thought. You grinned as his head shook with another rumbling chuckle. “Now you really sound like my son. I hope he hasn’t driven crazy too.”

“Eh,” you shrugged a little and smiled, “he’s alright.” Your voice dropped a little, like you were telling a secret, “More than, actually. He’s…good.”

The Sheriff looked surprised briefly, a spasm of disbelief, and then all the muscles in his face seemed to melt with fondness. “He is,” his voice was a bit gravelly when he spoke, like it got lodged halfway up his throat. He loved his son; it was obvious. You wondered if your dad ever looked like that when talked about you. You wondered if he even talked about you at all. 

“Not a lot of people are,” you said quietly, looking down at your sneakers. The white wasn’t even white anymore. They were graying from years of stepping on your own feet, kicking car doors closed, tripping over asphalt. You weren't the kind of girl who could keep shoes clean; that was one thing about you that hadn’t changed. Sometimes, it felt like everything else had, and none of it was for the better. 

Sheriff Stilinski waited until you looked up, and then he smiled at you, almost as fondly as before. “You are.”

You were overwhelmed with feeling, so close to an emotion you couldn’t name, but you knew you’d felt it before. Once upon a time, when parents were parents, and children were children. 

The Sheriff rested his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. You were tipping into tearful, and you’d never been so grateful to hear Stiles’s voice. 

“Dad, who’s—” Stiles stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at the two of you. His jaw dangled, and it didn’t snap shut until his dad snorted. Stiles’s eye twitched, and you could see the reboot loading behind his eyes. You wholly understood the sentiment.

His brain regained function, and apparently all he could come up with was, “Hey.”

You grinned to yourself, a small secret smile at his predicament, and your hand cocked in a little wave, “Hey.”

Sheriff Stilinski cleared his throat, “I’ll—I’m going to get something to eat.” Neither of you looked at him; you were too busy playing a strange staring contest with equally stupid looks on your faces.  

Stiles recovered from his stupor once you were alone. His face settled into something bitter, stony at all the edges, irritation tucked into the creases. It was hardly the face you expected to see when you finally paid him a surprise visit. 

Your brow curved, and you tried not to shrink in on yourself. “You look pissed.”

Stiles snorted and drummed his fingers against the railing, “Yeah, well, you’re in a perpetual state of pissiness, so we’ve all got problems.” You must have crumpled this time, at least a little bit, because his scowl thawed and his hands fell limply by his sides. “Sorry. That’s not—displaced aggression, it’s my sweet spot.”

You shrugged and smiled slightly, a little stiff, a lot amused, “You’re not exactly wrong.”

“Still.” 

You played another game of eye-contact chicken, and Stiles scratched the back of his rapidly flushing neck. Your hair, still damp from the light drizzle, fell in front of your face as you tilted your head towards the stairs, “So, you gonna invite me up, or…”

He nodded a little too quickly and definitely too fervently, “Yeah, sorry. I’m just—”

“Pissed?” you smirked and adjusted your grip on your books, trekking up the stairs. Stiles narrowed his eyes at you, but he was smiling. He had a nice smile; it was big, loose—unrestrained in a way a lot of people were afraid to be. It was the kind of smile you couldn’t help but return.

Stiles let out a profound sigh and shook his head, “It’s all Scott’s fault.” You shot him a dubious look as he pushed his bedroom door open for you. He shrugged, “If I only tell it with carefully selected parts of the story, it’s all his fault.”

Your mouth twitched. Your smile was small, but it peeled back a good deal of the person you thought you should be. So much so, there was a little you peeking underneath. “We can pretend it is. Just for today.”

Stiles’s throat bobbed with his swallow, and when he smiled back at you, slowly, fleetingly, but ever-so sweetly, you finally realized you were awkwardly standing in the middle of his room. Like an idiot. 

His room was exactly what you expected, and that was…you didn’t realize that you knew him well enough to expect plaid bedding and posters of cringey emo bands that were heavily featured on most of your playlists. 

His desk was cluttered with various books and papers, stacked with no apparent rhyme or reason. You recognized the bestiary he bought from Curio Killed the Cat; the burgundy and gold binding was striking against all his monochrome textbooks. There were a few papers poking out from the aged pages, printouts of something furry and familiar. Before you could get a better look, Stiles bustled past you, doing a quick but rather poor job of hiding his dirty laundry under his bed and behind his closet door. 

Stiles was slightly out of breath when he finished, dropping onto the foot of his bed, “So…you stalkin’ me now?” 

You rested your hip against his desk and hummed, “Seemed only fair.” 

“Well,” his face split into a bright, infuriating grin, “I am flattered.”

“Shut up.” His grin widened, and you rolled your eyes, glaring at your bowed reflection in a chrome lamp on the edge of his desk. It was in grave need of a good dusting, along with most of the room. “You’re literally my only option.”

“So, you’re sayin’ I’m the one.” Stiles’s smirk was audible, and you sputtered. 

Your ears were unnaturally hot, and so was the back of your neck. You meant to groan, wanted him to know just how unamusing you found him, but your throat failed you. Your complaint came out airy, huffy, and it trembled against your soft palate. Truthfully, it sounded awfully similar to a whine; you scowled at the sound and squeezed your books tighter to your chest, “I’m leaving. Right now. I’ve reached my maximum capacity for bullshit.” 

Long fingers circled around your wrist before you could go too far. They were blistering against your cool skin, but a shiver shuddered through your arm all the way to your skull. 

“Don’t go,” Stiles hummed softly, close enough to warm the shell of your ear. “I owe you one, remember?” 

You braved a look at him through your lashes, and he was smiling at you again; this one was nervous. He had forgotten, it seemed, to let go of your wrist until now. Stiles sat back down on his bed, and you absently brushed your fingers over the lingering sensation of his fingertips. 

“Right,” you looked around the room and chewed on your bottom lip, “so…what was that whole thing with Derek Hale?”

Stiles paused. You could feel him watching you, studying you like one of his puzzles. “He needed a ride.”

You set your books on his desk, and Stiles nodded towards the chair in front of him. You hesitated before sitting down, feeling a bit like you were giving up the battlefield high ground, “You’re like…friends, then?”

“Absolutely not.” If the emphatic denial wasn’t enough to convince you, the violent shake of his head was telling enough. “Kind of wish he was dead, actually. It would solve so many problems.”

“So you don’t actually know him that well,” you murmured, sinking into the chair with all your hopes and plans. 

Stiles’s neck craned as he studied your face, “Why?” You just looked at him, keeping your face impassive, and his eyes went a little buggy. “I know he looks dreamy, but that would be nothing but a nightmare for everyone involved. Trust me.”

Your face twisted, lips curling around the unsavory taste in your mouth. “I don’t—what was wrong with him yesterday?”

Stiles didn’t look entirely convinced, but skepticism did look a lot like concern. “Stomach bug.”

You rolled your eyes. It would’ve made you laugh under any other circumstance, but you didn’t feel much like laughing now. You’d been a tick away from the edge ever since you realized that Lydia had been this close to being butchered by that thing. 

Your fingers curled into tight fists, knuckles straining, “I’m not an idiot, okay. I know there’s something weird going on.” You looked up from your lap with sharp eyes, but if he looked a little closer, he’d see the desperation underneath, “And I know you know something about it.”

Stiles swallowed hard and twisted his fingers together, “I’m actually known for knowing nothing about anything. Ever.” 

He flinched when you stood up abruptly. The chair rolled back into his desk and sent a few pencils to the floor. You glared at them, like they did it on purpose just to spite you, and your glower drifted towards the glint of citrine and garnet on the corner of his desk. “This.” You picked up the bestiary and tried to shake it in front of his face, but it was too heavy to do your frustration justice, “Why did you buy this?”

His eyes, miraculously, grew rounder, “I told you. D—”

“N’ D, I know, but I looked into it. This is real; it’s transcribed from a real Ancient Greek text.”

“...I like authenticity.” Stiles shrugged towards his fidgeting hands, “I take my craft seriously.”

Scoffing, you dropped the book on top of his bed, “So you’re saying you believe the whole mountain lion theory?” 

“Well, obviously no—”

“Then what do you believe?” Your chest seethed with quick shallow breaths as you paced from one side of his room to the other, “Because I was looking through this genealogy line, and the Hales have been here before Beacon Hills was even Beacon Hills, and there’s a pattern of—hold on.” 

You snatched Maggie’s journal off of his desk and flipped it open to the Hale family tree, bookmarked with the thick stack of county death reports you’d printed out. “Look, there’s a series of premature, violent deaths in their line directly after a series of animal attacks on the town, and then all of it just stopped a few generations before Derek’s mom became the head of the pa—”

You didn’t know when Stiles stood up, but he was in front of you now, stopping you in your tracks. He brushed his fingers through his short crop of hair and shook his head, “Hold on, okay. Take a breath—”

You didn’t hear him, not really. Truthfully, you didn’t even notice that he’d started talking. You shoved the pages closer to his face, and all your words rushed past your lips in one carved out breath, “And then it all started again after Laura Hale was killed, and she was found with wolf fibers on her body—”

Stiles’s brows flew towards his hairline, “How do you kno—”

“She became the head of the family after Talia died, right?” Your hair was as wild as your eyes after a series of urgent tugging, and you prayed to all the mythical gods in every game you’d ever played that you sounded saner than you looked. They might actually exist, after all. Who's to say that Selûne didn't exist in a world where werewolves did? “‘Cause she’s the oldest living, fully conscious relative, and then immediately after she's killed, the animal attacks start up again, like she was keeping something in-check.”

“Slow down.” Stiles gripped your shoulders. You were closer than either of you realized until you looked up and your noses were almost touching. He swallowed thickly and let go of you after a moment, taking a step back, “A couple of days ago you thought this was all bullshit.”

You chewed on your lip and your indecision, looking for something in his face. You didn’t know what, but you were pretty sure you found it when his mouth furrowed into a concerned frown. It was for you, you realized, not because of you. That was…a rarity in your life as of late. You didn’t hate it. 

Sighing, you pulled your phone out of your jacket pocket and opened the video from Lydia’s phone. “A couple of days ago I hadn't seen this,” you mumbled, shoving the phone into his hand.

Stiles looked at you for a moment longer and then pressed play. His face was unreadable, save for the small flinch when the beast shattered the store window, and you hated it. “Where did you get this?” Stiles finally said quietly. His voice was low and infected with something dire. 

You rifled through your papers, something to keep your hands busy and your eyes off of the dark look on Stiles’s face, “Someone sent it to Lydia—it was a blocked number, so don’t ask who.”

“Did she—”

“I deleted it before she could.” 

Neither of you needed to say it; you both knew Lydia was clinging to sanity by the skin of her perfect teeth. She couldn’t see the proof that the monster under her bed was real. Not yet. Maybe not ever. 

“Good.” Stiles rubbed a hand over his face, looking so much older than sixteen, and he flickered his gaze to your face, “You can’t show this to anyone. You know that, right?”

“Besides Scott,” you retorted dryly.

Stiles almost smiled. There was a ghost of one hiding in the corners of his mouth, but it faded before it could materialize. “Believe me, he really doesn’t need any more proof. Delete it.” 

He sighed at your scowl and tried again, “Please delete it.”

You shook your head and grabbed your phone from his hands, “Not until you tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything.” Stiles held up his hands and took a careful step towards you, “Really. I know as much as you do.”

You stared at him. You weren't sure if you were a good judge of character. You’d like to think you were, but it wasn’t like you spent a lot of time around other people. Even before you got trapped in your head, you really only had one friend, and you used to think you’d be friends with her for the rest of your lives. Maybe longer. 

You’d been wrong before. You didn’t want to be wrong again.

Stiles reached for your hand, and you let him lace your fingers together. “I know how you feel. It sucks, and it’s kind of exciting, but mostly freakin’ terrifying—and all you need to know is that it’s going to be okay. Okay?”

Your chin jerked in a rigid little nod. You softened slightly when he squeezed your hand. He wasn’t telling you everything; you were almost 100% certain of that, but you were also pretty sure he wasn’t lying. That was enough for you. For now. 

“The file room,” you said quietly.

Stiles’s lips drew together into a little pucker, “What?”

“The evidence room with all the files,” you looked up at him, and the ember of hope was stoked in your eyes, “there’s probably more there.”

He bit down on his cheek, “I don’t know—”

You folded her arms over her chest, chin lifting in defiance, “You promised.”

Stiles sighed and ran his hand over his head. His smile was a little affectionate thing. He sighed and shook his head, “I promised.”

“Well, alright then.” Your shoulders relaxed, and you sat back down in his desk chair, “Middle of the night break-in, it’s a date.”

[lostgirl14480]

A Not So Common Fairy (Teaser)

Summary: you're a dark fairy from the upside-down and when you see that a gate is open, your curiosity gets the best of you.

- eddie munson x fairy!reader

Nothing remotely interesting ever happened in this dimension. It was always dark with constant storms, which I didn't mind actually. But I always hoped something would change. Maybe a ray of sun, or the budding of a flower? But no, nothing beautiful ever came to this place...

So, when I got wind that Henry Creel was opening gates to another world, I decided it was time for me to leave this place in search of something more. There was nothing tying me here, only the memories of my family...

Without a second thought, I lift my multicolored wings and set off into the air, heading straight to an open gate. The only thing left behind is a small trail of black dust, but it is quickly swept away by the winds of the never-ending storms.

......................

I emerge from the gate, and for the first time ever, I see the color green. Instead of the dark decaying plants from my dimension, this one is full of life! I stare in awe at all the green leaves on the trees, the moss growing on the ground, even the small river flowing along a path. I'm about to fly over to a particular budding flower when I hear voices coming from below me. Not trusting what the noise is from, I try shrinking myself, but for some reason, being in this dimension is limiting my magic. So instead, I perch myself on a branch just high enough to be out of sight but low enough to hear what is going on.

"We need to see If there's a gate around here, It's the only way we'll be able to find Vecna and free Max from his curse." Says one of the younger humans in the group. Vecna? Curse? Are they talking about Henry? How do they know about the gates?

Intrigued, I lean in closer from the branch I'm perched on and continue to listen to the conversation this group of humans are having.

"Dustin, have you even considered how dangerous this plan is? And Eddie is still wanted for murder, we can't just go walking around town looking for a gate!" Murder!? These humans are getting more interesting by the second.

"Steve, it's our only shot, I don't see any other options..." Dustin replies. "And besides, I think Eddie should have a say, since he's the one being chased by the whole town. So what do you say Eddie?"

The one who must be Eddie stands up and addresses the group. I take a moment to look him over, and I can't help but stare a little longer than I intended, there's just something about him that draws me in.

"I say, you're asking me to follow you into Mordor, which, if I'm totally straight with you I think is a really bad idea. But uh the Shire, the Shire is burning. So Mordor it is." I'm amazed at how brave these humans are, knowing how ruthless Henry, or I guess Vecna, can be. But I guess I have a lot to learn about this new dimension, and the humans who live here.

After agreeing on what Eddie said, the group all start to follow Dustin. Eddie trails behind, seemingly lost in thought and I take the time to admire his features. In Vecnas dimension, there really arn't any attractive males, or any human like creatures for that matter, so it's hard not to admire Eddie in this moment.

But I guess I didn't realize how intently I was looking and how much closer I was leaning over the branch to get a closer look, because all of a sudden, the branch I'm perched on cracks, and I fall a few feet before my wings are able to extend. I quickly fly up to another branch, higher up this time, and behind the trunk of the tree. But I'm sure I felt eyes on me for a split second...

"Eddie! What are you still doing back there?" Dustin calls out. The group is already a bit further along the path, but Eddie is stood at the base of the tree I'm hiding in, staring at the cracked branch.

I stay completely still, not sure If he's already seen me.

"I just, I thought I saw-" Eddie starts, but stops and shakes his head, turing back to follow the group. "Nevermind."

🖤🖤🖤

A/N: This is just a random idea that I thought of, not sure if it'll just be turned into a few imagines or if I'll make it into a story, haven't decided yet 😂 But I've been in an Eddie mood lately so there's plenty more where this came from 😁❤️‍🔥

[dotster001]

Le Chasseur d'Amour, Chapter Two

Summary:Rook x gn!reader. On earth, your mind begins playing tricks on you again. In twisted wonderland, Rook begins his journey.

Chapters: One Three Four Five

"I'm home," you announced as you tossed your keys on the couch. No one responded, so you texted a family member that you had made it home safe from work. They always wanted to know where you were. You couldn't really blame them, especially with how volatile you'd been when you'd been "found".

You sat down with a groan, propping your aching feet up. You definitely were regretting how you told your family you weren't going to college because you "already had a degree". Maybe you could have had a job where you sat all day, instead of standing. Still, neither job sounded all that appealing, if you truly thought about it.

You looked at the time on your phone and groaned when you saw how much day was left. You searched your brain to decide what to do with yourself, when you heard a sizzling sound. 

Confused, you stood up and searched for the sound, finding yourself in the bathroom.

"The fuck?" You muttered, staring at the orange, burning, starting on the edge of your mirror and slowly moving inward.

The parts that weren't burning showed a foggy room, a pair of green eyes that you knew from your dreams flashing for a moment. The sizzling sound got louder, and you shouted as the mirror, and bathroom light bulb, shattered.

You covered your face with your arms, petrified. When it felt like you could move again, you looked at all the shattered glass around you, and took a deep shuddering breath, before letting out a scream.

Once the scream had settled you, you calmly pulled out your phone, called your therapist to set up an emergency appointment.

….

Rook was hastily packing a bag full of belongings; some food, some thaumarks, a couple random potions.

"Wait, you're planning to leave right now?" Vil asked, startled by the fevered look in Rook's eyes.

"Obviously. I can't waste another moment without mon amour."

"But you don't know where the portal lets out!"

"My signature spell will guide me!"

"And what if they use different money than ours?"

"I can live off my surroundings."

"What if Y/N has found someone else?"

Rook turned to him, his face split with an anger unlike any other. 

"Roi du poison, if you are insistent on staying in my way, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Anyone else would have backed down. But Vil knew Rook better than anyone. And he knew someone had to be reasonable.

"It's been five years, Rook. Listen, I miss them too, but-"

"But you can't feel them pulling you, can you? You have no idea what it's like!" Rook shouted, his eyes quickly filling with pained tears.

"They're right there," he whispered hoarsely, his voice raw in a way Vil had never heard it before.

He stared silently for a minute.

"You're such a potato sometimes. At least make preparations before we leave."

"We?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

"I can't ask you to-"

"Hush. I can't leave you alone in some strange dimension, now can I?" Vil pulled out his compact and reapplied his lipstick. "Honestly, you're hopeless without me, Hunt."

Rook just stared, ever in awe of his queen. Vil sighed. 

"At least pack us both a change of clothes. It'll do you no good if you reek when you reunite with your beloved."

Rook rushed off, no doubt to grab his most fashionable garb. While he was away, Vil curiously approached the glowing mirror, holding his palm an inch from the surface.

"I hope you're in there, Y/N," he whispered, a final prayer for a heartbroken friend.

Rook came back with two bags.

"I have everything we need. Let's go."

Before Vil could even react, Rook had grabbed his wrist and pulled him through the portal.

When they had both come to, they looked around. It appeared they were in a public restroom, and a nasty one at that.

"Revolting, I hate it here already," Vil gagged, "and what are we going to do about that mirror?"

Rook looked around, before pulling out his pen and miniaturizing it, sticking it in his pocket.

"You think they won't notice their mirror missing?"

"You think I care if they notice?"

Vil sighed. After all these years he never truly learned.

"So Y/N's…here?" The here was spat out, like the word itself was the disgusting part.

"Non, non, something shifted when we stepped through," Rook said offhandedly, "but I know where they are."

"Where?"

Rook grinned and started to walk away.

"Where? How dare you ignore my question! Where are they?"

....

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir

[sonderwrit]

C94: Obsession

I Have to Be a Great Villain - Masterpost

Slime X starts getting attached to Wang Yi while he remains clueless to his sneaking around and snacking.

WY: Snore—snore—

Slime: *plop*

Slime: Huu… 

*kacha opening noises*

Slime: Finally…free.

X—Species.

A rare species floating in the universe. 

It has no shape and no voice. Those who came in contact with it either disappeared completely or went berserk without reason. No one knew what its purpose was or why it appeared on Earth.

Slime: Sigh…human language is so, hard, to learn.

Slime: Although I've been listening this entire time…I can't understand it completely…nor can I express myself. Am I pronouncing things wrong?

Slime: But…I've finally found it. The "obsession" I've been missing.

[Next Day]

WY: Yawnnn—

WY: I don't know why, but I'm still exhausted after sleeping so much…

[Researchers can apply for a dormitory or just live in the lab.]

WY: Like I was doing math questions all night.

S-0: *munching noises* Hm? Not used to the locale, maybe? Then how about eating something nutritious to boost yourself first. This cat food is delicious. (It was impossible to eat this in the apocalypse world.)

WY: …shameless.

WY: Can a little cat like you really help a Host successfully complete his missions?

S-0: Huu…I won't lie…you're actually my first Host.

WY: Hah? That's too awful! (I'm your guinea pig?)

S-0: No, not at all.

S-0: Because of an incident in the past, all the more impressive seniors (senpai) all upgraded or left.

S-0: So there's nothing but newbies like us doing the work now.

WY: An incident?

S-0: Mhm. It seems there was a powerful senior (senpai) who tried to get rid of their status as a System and become a human being.

S-0: Although I don't know what happened, from then on we were forbidden to take on human forms. (We can only be animals or something else.)

WY: So it's like that.

WY: (No wonder there's cats and penguins.)

WY: Aish, every family has its troubles. 

WY: Might as well deal with what's in front of me first. Let's check on yesterday's experimental subject. (The soul of rationality)

WY: …hm? Why do I feel like..this fellow's a little smaller from yesterday?

S-0: I think that's true.

S-0: What should we do…?

WY: Although the description said X doesn't eat, perhaps we can try…

Slime: ?

Slime: *swallows* *chew chew*

WY: Hey, it actually ate it!

WY: So it can eat regular food after all.

WY: What about soymilk?

Slime: *crunch*

WY: Don't eat the spoon?!

WY: …what's the situation, can it tell what's food or not?

S-0: It's impossible to use normal logic to explain such an organism, interesting.

S-0: …

S-0: N-no, wait! Host, you can't be lured in by other experimental subjects!

S-0: Our mission has always been to act as tools for the male and female protagonists! If you're free, go show your face to the mermaid instead!

WY: I remember, I remember.

WY: I was thinking I'd get a full-body protective suit along with completing the mission to deal with this X when I return.

Slime: ?

WY: (If I seal off all entryways on my body, it won't burrow into my ear like last time again.)

S-0: Huu, Host is really enthusiastic about research, even though you could just go through the motions.

S-0; Are you interested in unknown organisms?

WY: More or less.

WY: I also want to confirm something that I thought was pretty impossible.

Slime: He…went out?

Slime: Wonderful.

Slime: My human is so cute~

Slime: I like him. I like him a lot—

Slime: But he's too weak, so he'll die if he's careless, right?

*scurrying noises*

Slime: After searching for so long…I have to protect him carefully…

WY: (Huh? My neck's a little itchy.)

WY: ?

Slime: For that—I  have to evolve faster.

Slime: Split myself up and go eat up some other materials.

WY: Eh? I felt like something just scurried out.

S-0: Was there? 

S-0: You're probably mistaken, right…?

Slime: *swooshes away*

[kylie-writes-stuff]

Too Far

pairing: rodrick heffley x gn!reader ; greg x platonic!reader (but it's mostly a sweet family fic between rodrick and greg)

warnings: cussing, rodrick thinks greg ran away/is missing, rodrick's probably ooc, uh idk what else

word count: 1.7k (why is this the longest thing i’ve written-)

summary: (takes place during rodrick rules) y/n has been a good neighbor and friend for a while now. either of the heffley boys can go to them for anything.

a/n: im a strong believer in the fact that rodrick has a soft side and he truly cares about his little brother. he doesn't show it a lot but it's there. i love rodrick so much so i wanted to try writing for him. sorry if it's ooc but i dunno, i like it. let me know what you think :)

--

You were watching tv, no clue what just happened in the house down the street, when there was a knock on the door.

You got up, groaning. Who would be here this late? 

You opened the door, somewhat annoyed, until you saw that it was... Greg? 

It was Greg, the young boy from down the street, with tears in his eyes.

You immediately wrapped an arm around him, leading him inside, “Woah, kid, what’s wrong?”

As the two of you sat back down on the couch, he choked out an answer, “R-Rodrick.”

“What did he do this time? Want me to beat his ass for you?"

A small smile crossed your face when you were able to make the boy chuckle.

He explained that him and Rodrick had a great night together but things went bad once they got home. He said that their parents found the pictures from the party last week, which you had attended, and both the boys got it trouble. But that wasn't why Greg was crying. He was crying because Rodrick was disappointed in him and said some hurtful things.

You didn't push any further. Greg was a tough kid, most of the time, so whatever Rodrick said must've been really bad.

"Wait," you said after a few minutes, "Do your parents know you're here?"

"N-no. I snuck out."

"Greg, you can't do that," you said sternly. You weren't angry, just worried.

"You and Rodrick both sneak out all the time," He tried to reason.

"That's different. We're both old enough to take care of ourselves. No offense, but you're still just a kid. If your parents find out they're gonna be worried sick."

"Can I just stay for a while longer? Please? Besides if they find out I'm gone, they'll probably check here first."

It was true. Greg and Rowley would come to your house sometimes, just to have a different place to hang out. Your parents were away a lot of the time so it worked out.

You were Greg's babysitter when he was in 5th and 6th grade. Ms. Heffley knew you were a responsible kid and she didn't exactly want Rodrick in charge. Now he's in 7th and he's trusted a bit more so you didn't have to take care of him anymore. During that time was when you and Greg got close. The two of you became friends.

You had gotten pretty close with Rodrick too. Especially since you had a lot of the same classes in school. The two of you had similar interests so you would hang out sometimes.

Of course, you couldn't say no to Greg.

You two sat and watched whatever he wanted to watch. You told him that he could have whatever he wanted from the kitchen, it didn't matter. He immediately searched for ice cream, making you laugh.

Soon there was another knock on the door. This time you looked out the peep hole.

"It's Rodrick," you whispered to Greg.

"I'm not here!" He whispered back, running up the stairs.

You waited until he was all the way upstairs, before you opened the door, "Rodrick? Hey, what's up?"

He looked back at you with panicked eyes, "(Y/n), you gotta helped me."

You ushered him in, just as you had done with his younger brother not long ago, and you two sat down. "Of course, what is it?"

"Well I- me and Greg got into a fight I guess? I said some stuff I shouldn't have. I- Fuck, (Y/n), I messed up... I took it too far."

You gently put a hand on his knee, "Hey, relax. You're okay. What do you mean you took it too far?"

"I told him that... I said 'you might be my brother, but you'll never be my friend'. W-We got in trouble for something and I got mad at him. Obviously I don't mean it, i-it just kinda slipped out."

"Okay, well, we both how Greg is. I'm sure he'll understand if you just tell him and apologize. You two will be fine," you offered him a soft smile.

To your surprise, he shook his head.

"That's not what I need your help with."

"Oh," was all you could say.

"I went to check on him a while ago because he's never been in this much trouble, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Mom and Dad were already asleep. I- I went into his room and... and he was gone. (Y/n), I don't know what to do."

You pulled him into a hug, him quickly latching onto you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair. "It's okay Rodrick. I'll help you find him."

Of course, you knew where he was. But you wouldn't give away Greg's spot if he didn't want you too.

Rodrick looked up at you, "You will?"

"Of course, let me get a jacket and we'll go."

You went up the stairs and into your room, where Greg was sitting on your bed.

"Dude, he-"

"I heard all of it. I understand."

"Oh good," you said, waking to your closet to get a jacket, "So, do you forgive him?"

"Of course, he's my brother," The two of you smiled.

As you pulled on your jacket, you asked, "Well what do you wanna do? He's ready to go searching for you."

"Maybe you two can drive around for a while and come back, and i'll just be on the sidewalk around here? I don't know, I just don't him to get at you for lying." He suggested.

You thought about it, nodding.

"Okay... but be careful, alright? Stay in here for like 15 minutes, then you can go out."

You went back downstairs and grabbed your keys. Rodrick followed you out and into your car.

"He couldn't have gone far, right?" He asked, bouncing his knee up and down.

"Nah, i'm sure he stayed close. Lets just check the neighborhood, yeah?" You said.

You drove around, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console where Rodrick was holding it tightly.

--

"H-he can't be gone. (Y/n), he can't!"

Of course, you haven't "found" Greg yet. Rodrick was freaking out.

You pulled over and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, his hand still in yours.

"Hey, Rod, it's okay. We'll find him, I promise."

Rodrick shook his head, his eyes becoming glossy. You felt bad for letting him believe Greg was really gone for so long, but you told Greg you'd stick with his plan. And you were true to your word.

"What if we don't?" His voice cracked.

"We will, I promise. But it's getting late and you should rest. We'll go looking for him first thing in the morning. I bet you he probably went to Rowley's house."

"Yeah... yeah, that makes sense," Rodrick nodded. "Thank you."

"You know I'd do anything for you. For Greg, too. I love that kid."

Rodrick smiled, hearing you speak so fondly of his younger brother. In that moment, he knew everything would work out.

You started driving back to the cul-de-sac you guys lived on. Rodrick leaned his head against the window and started to dose off, his hand still holding yours tightly.

Then you saw it. Greg walking on the sidewalk, just like he said he would.

"Rodrick! Dude!" You shook him awake.

"Huh? What?" He woke up, startled.

"Look!" You pointed over to Greg while pulling over.

Rodrick saw him and as soon as you stopped the car, he opened the door and stumbled out.

"Greg!" He called out to his younger brother.

Before Greg could even turn around, Rodrick had him engulfed in a hug. The display of affection obviously took Greg by surprised.

"Don't ever do that again," Rodrick paused, trying to come up with some sort of insult, "... dumbass."

"I won't, I promise."

You watched as the two brothers smiled at each other. A rare occurrence for sure, but a nice one.

Rodrick lightly pushed Greg towards the car and they both got in.

"Hey (Y/n)." Greg said from the back seat.

"Hey, kid, glad you're safe," You smiled back at him.

"Yeah."

"Had this guy close to bursting into tears," You snickered, gesturing towards Rodrick and trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't tell him that!" Rodrick mumbled as he nudged your arm. This only made you and Greg giggle more.

You saw a smile form on Rodrick's lips, despite him trying to hide it. Laughter was, indeed, contagious.

You poked his cheek, making him chuckle.

You started to drive towards the Heffley house, the mood in the car now light and playful. You pulled into their driveway and unlocked the doors.

"Go inside, twerp. I'll catch up." Rodrick said.

"Okay," Greg smiled, getting out and heading towards the door.

"(Y/n)... thank you." Rodrick said, his voice softer as he looked down at his shoes.

"For what?"

"I dunno, everything. I mean, who would get up in the middle of the night and help some loser look for their little brother?"

"Oh c'mon, Rodrick. I'd go to the ends of the earth for you or that kid. It's no big deal, really." You said.

"It is to me. Thank you," He finally looked up at you, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Anytime."

"Can I- um... can I try something?" He asked. His eyes darted away from you for a split second.

"Well, uh, yeah. Sure." You said, curious to as what wants to do.

Suddenly, Rodrick put his hand on your cheek and leaned in. You felt his lips press against yours softly and closed your eyes. The kiss lasted only a little bit, but it felt much longer.

You couldn’t lie. It felt amazing. Kissing Rodrick just felt so... right. It’s like your lips were made for each other.

He pulled back a little and you smiled, laughing softly.

"Is- Is that a good thing?" He asked.

"I dunno, you tell me."

You leaned in and kissed him again. He was quick to kiss back. Eventually you leaned back.

"You should get inside," Another kiss, "Don't want you getting in more trouble."

Rodrick's usual confidence came back and he smirked, "If it's for you, it's worth it."

"Shut up!" You laughed.

He chuckled and pecked your cheek, before walking to the door.

As you pulled into your own driveway, you smiled.

Your relationship with Rodrick Heffley had changed tonight. But you know it had changed for the better.

[v-hope]

Sweet Night

Pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Heiress!Reader, Heir!OC x Reader

Genre: Fluff (yes, only fluff today, enjoy), Ex Roommates AU, Enemies to Lovers AU, Arranged Marriage (Heir!OC x Reader)

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Neither you nor Taehyung were expecting you to show up to his art exhibition, let alone when everyone was already gone, for the two of you were well aware that you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attending your possible future husband’s charity event instead. Then again, neither of you were counting on your brother and sister in law to take your side and drive you all the way over to him so you could surprise him before the day was over.

A/N: Helloo! This is part 24 of my Social Media AU “Belong”, but you can read it as a stand-alone one shot if you want! I would like to make a shout out to my 🇫🇮 anon for giving me the Jimin idea (you know which one, I changed it a bit to make it fit the story better, but still). I hope you guys enjoy!

Looking away from the backseat’s window, your eyes focused on your trembling hands instead — the city lights as you passed them by being the only source of light as your brother drove through the streets of Seoul, which for some reason seemed to be extremely long that particular night.

The light music Miyoung had taken upon playing on the radio from the passenger seat, in an attempt to create a somewhat calm atmosphere for you and the nervousness she was sure you were feeling, had yet to make you actually calm down. If anything, you could feel your shaky hands become sweatier by the second as you felt a tingle of anticipation in your chest.

Although you wanted with everything in you to attend Taehyung’s art exhibition, you had got out of bed that morning being mentally prepared to spend the entire day at the Lee’s charity event.

You had been ready to spend most of the day with your parents pretending that everything in your relationship was alright, perfect even. You had been smiling for the cameras all day, greeting people you were sure were just pretending to have the perfect life as well, and being forced to make small talk with the ones who used to be your friends yet had turned their back on you as soon as they had found out you were choosing a more modest life over the luxurious one — the same so called friends of yours that had to keep quiet about your little secret if they didn’t want your parents to destroy their family’s business. After all, your family was with no doubt the most powerful one in Korea. And honestly? You couldn’t help but see it now as a curse, after having spent a lifetime believing it was a gift.

Not only that, but you had also spent most of the day next to Sungjin, lovingly posing for the cameras and holding hands, making you wish every single second it was Taehyung instead. You were sure that way it would’ve been more bearable. What you hated the most was the fact that you knew said pictures were being posted right away, meaning Taehyung would see them, and you hated the utter thought of having the man you had feelings for see you acting like a happy couple with someone else — even more after you had to cancel on him to attend an event with the one guy he had asked you not to bring with you to his art exhibition to begin with.

And yet, after having to endure all of that, here you were — a little over an hour after Taehyung’s exhibit was done, being driven over there by your brother and sister in law, while Jimin held him back at the gallery, and you not even knowing what you were supposed to say at all once you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this whole impromptu apparition of yours was a good idea at all. It had been a long day for him, you knew that for sure, and although he had told you earlier that day that he would’ve loved to have you there, maybe by this point he just wanted to go home and get some rest.

You didn’t have much more time to think about that, though, for just as you remained deep in your thoughts, Seokjin pulled up right in front of the address you had given him before. Looking up from your fidgeting hands, you were met by two pairs of eyes already focused on you.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Seokjin asked, hand on his keys, ready to pull them out at your command.

“Um…” you hesitated, leaning closer to the window as your eyes travelled around the rather isolated street in search of any paparazzis, finding yourself to be quite relieved when you saw none of them around. “Maybe just until I find Tae”.

They nodded, exchanging one last look before they made their way out of the car right as you did. Feeling the cold breeze of the night as soon as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but hug yourself, sticking close to Jin and Miyoung as if you were a kid heading to school with her parents after being called by the principal.

Right as you were about to reach the entrance, however, Yoongi made his way out of the building, looking the other way before his eyes fell on all three of you.

“Hey,” he greeted, politely bowing his head, which you didn’t wait to reciprocate. “I came to see if you were anywhere near, Jimin is going crazy trying to come up with more excuses for Taehyung not to leave”.

You chuckled at his comment, imagining just how troubled your friend must have been. After all, and to be fair, you had taken a good while to get there. “Well, I’m here now”.

“That I can see” he sarcastically replied, eyes travelling from you to Seokjin, and then focusing on Miyoung. “Are you all coming in?” his eyes went back to you.

“Is it just the three of you inside?” your brother spoke up before you could nod. As far as he had understood, it should have been only Jimin and Taehyung inside.

“Oh, no” Yoongi denied. “Namjoon-ie is with us, too”.

“Namjoon?” Miyoung wondered, puzzled eyes going up to your brother. Given her reaction, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she knew what the rest of you didn’t when it came to those two.

Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek, giving her a knowing look before his eyes went back to Yoongi. “Actually, I, um… I just remembered Miyoung-ie and I have things to do, so…”

Although your sister in law looked troubled for a split second there, she wasted no time in nodding her head. Looking at Yoongi, she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “W-We do! So, um…” her eyes focused on you. “We should probably leave. Is it okay?”

“Sure…”

“You’ll be okay?” she pushed it, earning a small laugh from you over his motherly ways.

“She’s in good hands” Yoongi reassured her, receiving a genuine smile from her that only caused his lips to part into one of his own as well.

“Okay” she sweetly replied, giving him a small nod as a sign of gratitude.

Seokjin playfully nudged her, grabbing her hand so the whole marriage thing could at least be a little bit more believable. “Shall we go then?”

“Mhm…” she replied.

“Call me when you’re done here” your brother demanded.

“Oh, I’m sure Taehyung will drive her home” Yoongi’s words got chills running up your spine.

“Okay,” Jin’s eyes travelled from Yoongi to you. “Call me when you’re home then”.

“I will” you obediently complied.

With that said, your brother and sister in law turned around, leaving you alone with Yoongi, who didn’t wait to motion towards the door for you to go inside.

“After you” he politely said.

You smiled, taking in a shaky breath before you took a step in. Suddenly all the nervousness you had felt on your way here came right back to hit you in the face, not knowing at all what to do once you were in front of the guy you had ditched the Lee’s event for — not even knowing how he would react at all, yet hoping he would be happy to have you there.

You didn’t get too much time to mentally prepare, for as soon as you entered the place being followed by Yoongi, you caught a glimpse of the backs of the other three men inside as they faced one of the many paintings that brought some life to the neutral white covering every single wall of the gallery. And it was a matter of you taking a few steps towards them for three pairs of eyes to be set on you. However, yours were only focused on one particular pair of them — those chocolate ones that displayed a mixture of surprise and pure happiness in them.

“You’re here?” Taehyung asked the obvious once you reached their side, causing his friends to chuckle in amusement.

“Seems like it…” you nervously managed to get out.

Silence took over as big smiles were plastered all over your faces — on yours and Taehyung’s, as the two of you were happy as hell to see each other, and on his friends, for they were having a blast watching the two of you awkwardly stand in front of one another with those dumb smiles of yours, not knowing what to do next.

“Come on,” Jimin chimed in, placing his hand behind your back and lightly pushing you towards Tae. “Your girl fooled her parents into coming here, the least she deserves is a hug”.

With a giggle escaping Tae’s mouth, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you when your body was about to collide with his. Feeling your heart going wild at the warmness of his touch, you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, resting your face on his chest and taking in his scent right as he lowered his head just enough to bury it in your neck.

“Thank you for coming” he mumbled.

A light chuckle abandoned your mouth, deciding to say nothing and instead just nod your head and wrap your arms tighter around his figure.

“Okay, I think this is our cue to go” Namjoon’s voice broke the comfortable silence you had fallen into.

“Yup” Yoongi agreed, patting Jimin’s back to catch his attention, as he was shamelessly taking pictures of the two of you to remember the moment his friends somewhat got together. “Let’s give the love birds some privacy”.

Nodding his head, Jimin shoved his phone back into his pocket — neither of them bothering to say goodbye not to kill the moment the two of you were sharing, and just quietly leaving the gallery instead.

Once you heard the front doors being closed, Taehyung pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands and smiling at the sight of you. “I never thought seeing you would make me this happy”.

“Yah, Kim Taehyung” you called him out. “I’m sure you can be sweeter than that”.

He chuckled, rolling his eyes at how spoiled you had become when it came to him and his show of affection. “I’m happy you’re here, princess”.

You smiled, resting your hands over his and drawing small circles with your thumbs on his skin. “I’m happy I’m here”.

His smile turned sweeter somehow, lightly pressing his forehead on yours before a chuckle escaped his mouth and he amusedly shook his head.

“What is it?” you wondered.

“Nothing,” he laughed, pulling away and letting go of your face. “It just makes sense now why the guys were trying so hard to keep me here. Specially Jimin”.

“Was he losing it?” you laughed.

“Totally” he nodded. “He made me go over the whole exhibition again and explain each one of my paintings at least twice to him” his eyes travelled to one particular spot on the wall right next to the painting they had been admiring when you walked in. “When he ran out of pieces to ask me about he pointed at this small crack on the wall and asked me how I had come up with such a deep concept”.

This time, you couldn’t help but tilt your head back as a throaty laugh escaped your mouth — one that had Taehyung giggling, absolutely loving the sound of your laugh.

“He’s an idiot” you stated. “But he kept you here for me, so…”

“That he did” he smiled, biting his bottom lip as his eyes unconsciously travelled down your body — that pink dress of yours sure did look even better in person. “Aren’t you cold?”

Your eyes instinctively went down to your uncovered legs and then to your uncovered arms, remembering how you had hugged yourself outside minutes ago because of the cold air of the night. “It’s alright in here”.

He nodded his head. “My coat is by the entrance, in case you get too cold”.

You smiled sweetly, yet it didn’t wait to turn into what seemed more like a teasing smirk. “So you told me earlier today that you wished you had got to see me in this dress and now you want to cover it up?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, princess. I already told you I think you look beautiful and am most definitely enjoying the view right now” his bold words brought heat to your face. “I’m just looking after you”.

“How sweet of you” your sarcastic tone didn’t really match your flustered expression. “I’m okay for now. Will let you enjoy the view for a little longer”.

“How considerate of you” he was quick to follow your sarcastic antics, silently enjoying that particular choice of yours.

“I know, no need to say it” you playfully squinted your eyes at him, later taking a look at the whole gallery. “You think you could show me around?”

He nodded, a bright smile already taking over his face. “It will be my pleasure” his dramatism got a playful roll of eyes from you. “Where would you like to start?”

“This one is alright” you pointed out, moving closer to the painting you already had in front. “So,” you began, eyes tauntingly going to the crack next to his painting. “Tell me about how you came up with such a deep concept”.

“Shut up” he amusedly rolled his eyes.

“No, but seriously now” you smiled, this time staring at the piece of art in front of you. “Tell me about this one”.

Taehyung’s art, you had found out quite a while ago, tended to be on the abstract side. Therefore, it was even harder for you —or anyone for that matter— to interpret.

This one piece, just like the tag placed above it on the wall let you know, was called ‘Winter Bear’. You could clearly see the winter, the palette of colours he had used just screamed cold days and melancholy. Nevertheless, the bear mentioned in the title was nowhere to be found in the painting — instead, you managed to tell apart what you thought was a little boy, somewhat hidden in between all the colourful strokes surrounding his figure.

“That’s me” he pointed out when he could no longer deal with the confusion in your face, managing to draw your attention back to him.

“What?” your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “What is the word ‘bear’ doing in the title then?”

He chuckled. “It’s art, you dork. You can name it anything you want”.

“I think it must mean something, though…”

Taehyung bit his bottom lip. Of course you would know better.

“That’s what my grandparents used to call me” he confessed.

You nodded quietly, understandingly — not really knowing what to say yet not wanting to stay silent. “You must miss them so much…”

“Sometimes,” he nodded. “I mean, not a day goes by in which I don’t miss them, it’s just that… it’s been years so… you kinda grow used to it” his shoulders moved up and down, in a shrug that tried not to make it seem like a big deal. “The whole exhibit was related to winter, so it naturally reminded me of them and how they used to call me, and… I guess I got too personal with this exhibition”.

You gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, reaching for his hand and holding it in yours. “It’s your art. It’s supposed to be personal”.

The boxy smile that he gave you right then was all it took for your heart to skip a beat, later taking in a shaky breath when he intertwined his long fingers with yours and his thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand.

Your eyes went back to the painting in front, trying your best not to let him know what his touch did to you. “I love it” you stated, much to his pleasure. “Love the way it seems to make no sense when you only read the title, yet it makes complete sense after you explain it”.

He smiled wholeheartedly. “I think it just makes no sense” his words had you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Not everyone is lucky enough to know the true meaning behind it”.

You giggled. “Lucky me then”.

“Lucky you” he agreed.

Tugging at his hand, you moved on to the next painting, and then the next one, and so on. Not a second had gone by in which you had let go of each other’s hand as you commented on the different paintings and the meanings behind each of them — the two of you finding yourselves having the time of your lives as you gave him your take on them and he confirmed whether or not it was what he had tried to portray.

That was what each of you liked about art so much, the fact that there was no wrong answer and you could discuss it so freely. Sure, he had something in mind the moment he painted each one of his pieces, but it was always fun to see what the rest of the people would feel when they looked at them.

And, for some reason, it was particularly enjoyable to him when it came to discussing art with you. So he had found out back when he invited you to one of his friend’s exhibits. It was different than talking about it with his friends, and he didn’t know if it was the fact that, unlike them, you actually knew about art, or just the fact that it was you.

Maybe both.

Tightening your hold on his hand when there were only four more artworks left, you moved on to the next one, having your jaw drop at the sight of it.

“Hey, this is the one I fixed” you blurted out in both surprise and excitement, unconsciously moving closer to it and dragging Taehyung with you so you could appreciate it better.

Although you were excited to see it there, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the memories it brought back — the fact that you had collided with it and spilled coffee on it, still being both upsetting and embarrassing as hell.

You remembered quite well the way you had ran out in search of an art shop to find the necessary supplies to fix it before Taehyung could get home. Maybe you should have been faster. Not like that would’ve been of too much help, though, for whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not, you knew very well he would’ve noticed something was off with his newest creation right away.

Looking at the different shades of blue and touches of yellow right then brought you back to that night you pulled an all-nighter, meticulously trying to recreate his painting — the hardest part being that you had only got to see it for a split second before the coffee that used to be on your —by then— broken mug had ruined it. You could only be thankful that it had been just a particular part of the painting and not all of it.

Staring into the picture, you had to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to it and trace your fingers over the pair of eyes you could tell apart in yet another one of his abstract works. You had not truly paid attention to them that one night you spent in Taehyung’s living room fixing his painting, for you had been way too invested in the details you had ruined. And you couldn’t help but feel relieved over the fact that the hot liquid had not touched the eyes he had so perfectly portrayed, for although they looked quite familiar somehow, you weren’t sure you would have been able to do any justice to them.

“I didn’t think you were actually displaying it” you mumbled after a few seconds, eyes still fixed on the painting.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he cocked one of his eyebrows. “Not to be that guy, but it’s quite good”.

“Yes,” you agreed in a heartbeat. “But you can tell one part of it is quite different to the rest of it”.

“You did a good job fixing it, princess” he recognized. “No one could really tell the difference”.

“I can tell” you mumbled.

Taehyung laughed under his breath. “Will you just look up to its title?”

Doing as told out of curiosity, your eyes darted up in a heartbeat — feeling them well up with tears when you read what the label above the artwork said.

“Sweet Night”, ft. Ariel.

Looking up to hold back the tears you felt so dumb for even having in the first place, you shook your head as the corners of your lips curved slightly up. “You did not just credit me after being the one to ruin it to begin with”.

“Hey, I wasn’t taking full credit over something I didn’t completely paint” he stated. “Plus, it’s smart, don’t you think? No one will ever know this Ariel person is no other than the infamous Kim Y/N”.

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to” he stated.

You bit your bottom lip, no longer being able to hold back your smile and letting it part your lips like it had been threatening to. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh under his breath over how adorable he thought you were, not even dreaming of stopping himself when he let go of your hand and placed his arm over your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to him as the two of you stared into the artwork in front.

“Why ‘Sweet Night’?” you wondered, leaning your head on his body.

He shrugged. “It’s silly”.

“Come onnn,” you pouted, pulling slightly away so you could look at him. “Out of all the paintings here, you can’t leave out the explanation to this particular one”.

Taehyung sighed, knowing well enough that, one, you were right, and, two, you were not letting this go until he told you.

“It was inspired by that one night I came home to you and Sungjin” he said rather bitterly, remembering pretty well how he had not been fazed at all by the fact that you and said guy had obviously been making out right before, yet feeling his blood boil at the mere thought of it now. “We stayed up late eating lots and lots of sweet popcorn because I had way too many of them and you became addicted to them and how well they went with wine” a small laugh escaped his mouth at the memory. “So I just went with that. Plus, you were being really sweet that night and it was the first time I got to see that side of you, so…”

“That is really sweet” you mumbled, feeling the heat reach your cheeks.

“Don’t” he pleaded.

You laughed. “It truly is sweet, Vante” the way your eyes had softened at the sight of him, had his heart skipping a beat. “What do the eyes mean, though?”

“You just want to torture me by now” he called you out.

“I’m just asking!” you defended yourself with a giggle.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, feeling the heat reach his face as he intently focused on the painting, evading your eyes as he spoke.

“I’ve never been a fan of people having their full attention on me, I don’t like being the center of attention… I mean, I told you today how I was not looking forward to the moment I would have to give a speech in front of all my guests” you nodded, remembering how you had tried to cheer him up when it came to that. “So I don’t really talk about my art… or about art in general, to anyone. I just show it to them and let them interpret it, that’s what art is about, after all. But that one night you asked me a lot about my art and I actually felt like talking about it with you, and I remember the way your eyes were fixed on me almost as if you were scared you would miss some kind of important detail,” he laughed lightly. “And for the first time I liked the attention. I guess that inspired me enough to paint this”.

“So those are my eyes?” you asked.

He shrugged. “It’s up for interpretation”.

You shook your head in amusement, staring down as you felt your face burning. “You’re the worst”.

Taehyung chuckled, pulling you closer to him with the arm that was still around your shoulders, and using his free hand to place two fingers under your chin and make you look up at him. “Am I now?”

You felt your breathing become heavier the second his nose faintly bumped on yours — his lips only centimeters away from your anticipating ones. Too intimidated by him right then, knowing well enough he had you wrapped around his finger, you managed to shake your head no to answer his question, without taking your eyes away from his for even a second. Or well, that until his chocolate ones travelled down to your mouth.

Staring down into his tempting lips as they slowly came closer to yours, you looked up to his eyes for a split second, just enough to catch a glimpse of the way his remained fixed on your mouth. And then, you saw nothing — eyes instinctively closing when his lips softly trapped your bottom one.

Just one touch of his lips made you wonder how you had managed to go on all these weeks without getting a taste of them again.

“I thought you didn’t do this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing?” you whispered against his lips, opening your eyes to find his dark ones already fixed on you.

A small, breathy laugh escaped his mouth, leaning in so it would faintly brush against yours. “I’m not kissing you as a friend”.

Your lips parted into a smile, not letting another second go by before you pressed your lips to his, making him smile and cup your face in his hands just like he had done weeks ago with the intention of deepening the kiss.

With your arms wrapping around his neck, you pulled him closer to your body, letting go of the kiss for a second to catch your breath and having him take advantage of your slightly open mouth to trap your bottom lip in his eager ones again, this time tracing his tongue over it and slipping it inside your still open mouth — meeting your awaiting one in the middle just the way he wanted.

Letting go of your face, one of his hands travelled down to your lower back so he could feel you even closer, fingers tracing their way down your bare arms as he did so, and feeling goosebumps form on your skin.

“You’re cold?” he asked, taking one second to catch his breath before his wet lips were back on yours.

You shook your head no, a small, shy laugh escaping your mouth. “I didn’t get chills because I’m cold”.

Taehyung bit his lip, feeling the corners of his mouth curving up and pressing one last kiss to your lips before finally pulling away from you as his eyes were intently fixed on yours.

“I will keep my coat to myself then” he teased you.

“Nope,” you were quick to deny. “I am taking you up on the coat offer when we leave”.

“Okay” he laughed lightly, the hand that was still on your face travelling down your arm to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Shall we go?”

You shook your head no quite effusively. “We’re not done with the exhibit yet!”

“I’m hungry, let’s go eat something” Taehyung whined. “We can come back some other day”.

“Yah,” you called him out. “I came all the way here just to see your artworks”.

Your words earned a somewhat bitter pout from him. “Thought you had come all the way over here to see me”.

You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, tugging on his hand to pull him closer, and then making him replace said pout with a smile when you pressed two chaste kisses to his mouth. “It was implicit” your teasing words had him rolling his eyes. “We only have three more to go and then I’m all yours”.

He smirked, pulling you with him to the next piece. “I like the sound of that”.

“I meant it as in, then we can go get some food” you mumbled, feeling your face burning for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“I know” he pecked your lips. “Doesn’t change that I enjoy the sound of that”.

[folkloreguk]

🍒Cherry Ice Cream (2)🍒

A/N: Part two is here! There won't be another one after this. I just wanted to split it into two little scenarios with one being cute and the other not so cute lmao...I hope you enjoy - as always I appreciate feedback a lot!

taglist: @lovely-ateez

genre: smut, optional bias (m) x reader (f), lifeguard!au, pool sex, unprotected sex

words: 3.4 k

PART 1 (fluff, both parts can be read independently)

It was the middle of the summer holidays and you had never been happier. Sunny weather, swimming, lots of free time and as much ice cream as you wanted were only a few of the reasons for your luck. The main cause was the boy of your dreams. A few weeks ago, you had met. It had been the most chaotic, embarrassing day at the public swimming pool – or so you had initially thought. Turns out being a walking disaster could not only attract negative attention. When the otherworldly handsome and kind lifeguard had pulled your clumsy figure out of the water and even bought you ice cream to make you feel better, you had a feeling things were about to change. And you hadn’t been wrong. Maybe you were seeing things through rose-colored glasses and a mix of lovestruck hormones, but you suspected he might just really be this great.

Ever since your first ice cream date, the two of you had been inseparable. Looks were one thing – and you had made yourself aware that though he was a picture of perfection, he could still have turned out to not be your type at all. But the inside reflected on his outside. Every day you found out a new enrapturing detail about him. He was a never-ending book that you were utterly unwilling to put back down.

Your days were spent at the public swimming pool, watching your lifeguard boyfriend do his job and questioning if this was all some sort of hidden camera prank. During his break he came running straight to your spot under the trees and plopped down on your towel, ready to spend the most time with you until he had to go back. Although your streak of bad luck was over, he still took care of you and made sure you were okay in the heat. He reminded you to drink enough water and sent you a good morning text every day. When he had first asked you to help him put sunscreen on his shoulders, you had hesitated with cheeks hotter than the sunlight that day. Now it was a daily thing, and sometimes when his hands were on your back, rubbing in the lotion, you caught yourself wishing there weren’t a hundred families around you. But it was hard scoring alone time with him at the pool. Even later at night, right before closing time, there were always one or two diehard swimming fans there.

“I love watching my cute girlfriend swim,” he would keep telling you.

“You better make sure you’re paying attention to the rest of the visitors, too,” you would reply, but secretly love his flirty remarks. Perhaps he wasn’t even so far off. After your first encounter, it was apparent that maybe you were the one guest who didneed the closest monitoring. Even his co-workers knew of you. They had made it their life mission to remind him daily how whipped he was for you, but he never cared about their teasing.

At night, you rode your bikes home. Towards the candy cotton clouds on the horizon, through the small suburb, you rode side by side, still damp hair flowing in the wind. Outside your home he cupped your face then, the sun kissed skin of his hands still warm to the touch. Like he was the slowly setting sun himself, he kissed you goodnight. You were addicted to his lips. He made you fly, brought back all your fondest memories as if he himself was in them, and let you forget every worry you’ve ever had in the world.

One evening at the pool, you lay on your bathmat, headphones in your ears and your favorite summer playlist taking you to another world. Suddenly, two hands grabbed you by the shoulders. You jerked up in surprise.

“Oh my god, we could have hit our heads together!” you scolded your boyfriend, who was smiling at you like an innocent five-year old.

“Guess what. My boss just told me that I can close the place up tonight. You know what that means, right?” he said.

“Tell me more,” you smirked.

“Technically, we can stay here however long we want. And do whatever we want. As long as no one finds out,” he whispered the last part into your ear. Chills ran up your spine despite the heat in the air.

“Do whatever we want, huh?” you said. “I thought you were being a model employee?”

“I am,” he shrugged with his child-like smile. “And the model employee needs to go back to work now. I have a reputation to uphold. You’ll be waiting for me, right?”

“Of course,” you nodded, watching his figure as he jogged back to his seat by the pool. The next hours seemed to go by extra-slowly, to your dismay. After his announcement, you only found yourself staring in his direction more than on any other day. Truly, you could never get used to his handsomeness. You thought of his voice that made you melt like ice and his hands when he kissed you. Too often they remained in innocent, safe territory. Maybe that was about to change. It was a Friday, meaning the opening hours were longer than usual. By 10 pm however, even the last person had left. The public swimming pool was closed. Officially.

You had to admit, you could get used to having an enormous swimming pool all to yourself. Blissfully, you dived through the water, not having to worry about crashing into anybody’s legs or losing track of your surroundings. You had always felt as though swimming was a little like flying. Not that you knew what flying would be like. But if you had to make a guess, feeling weightless and small in a seemingly endless space probably came close. All your life, it had remained the same. Playing pretend in the water, acting like a mermaid scavenging for the most precious treasure of the seven seas – all your loveliest ideas lingered in your memory like it had been yesterday.

The pool had a shallow end, about the depth which allowed your head to reach above the surface, and progressively deepened towards the other end. You took a gulp of air and descended into the darkness. Taking long strokes, you dived towards the white light at the wall of the shallower pool end. With the brightness ahead of you, you failed to notice the shadow behind you.

As you were in the process of coming up from the water, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around you. For the second time that day, you jolted in surprise and quickly gasped for air.

“You scared me out of my wits! Will you stop that!” you said, but you were already smiling. It was hard to carry grudges against the boy behind you. Not when he held your waist and rested his chin on your bare shoulder, grinning as if it was a crime to even suspect him of such things.

“Hi, there,” he said and pecked your cheek sweetly. “I missed you.”

“So did I,” you admitted. Only months ago, you had made fun of how lovestruck your friend had been. You weren’t one to speak now. His hands let go of you while you turned your body to face him. Then they were on you again, and although it was a small touch, your lack of clothes created a tension between you right away.

“Wanna race me?” he whispered into your ear, as if there was anyone around to listen in. Was he serious? Did he really think you wanted him to let go of you now? His voice on your neck rendered you wanting him so bad, you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself.

“I’ve been swimming all day,” you said. “Besides, didn’t you say we could do whatever we wanted? We can swim whenever we want, during opening hours.”

“Oh, sounds like you have better plans?” he asked. For a moment, he touched your forehead with his. If you bent forward slightly, you could have kissed him. His hungry eyes were on your lips when you had finished the thought.

“I was thinking you could kiss me, for starters?” you coaxed him. He chuckled.

“So you’ve been thinking about it too, the past few hours,” he realized. “You know, I was trying to be subtle about it.”

“Forget about being subtle,” you said. “Let’s just make out, please?”

“I’d like nothing better than that,” he smiled, and then your mouths touched. His gentle lips tasted faintly of chlorine and salt, a taste you had come to associate with him and magnificent things. You held his face in your hands tightly and pushed your body against him yearningly. Reacting, he sighed and deepened the kiss. His wandering hands found the small of your backside as you arched your back into his frame. You hummed quietly, hands burying in his wet hair and playing with it at the nape of his neck.

All your childhood you had been searching for your treasure under the water. Now you understood. He was right there in front of you. Little you would be proud you had found someone this precious and incomparable. And hot.

“Jump,” he said. You did as he suggested and wrapped your legs around his waist. The proximity of his body made your heart hammer against your ribcage with such feverishness, you worried it might jump through your chest. With the way he touched every curve of your body, you almost forgot how to kiss. Luckily, your instincts did the job for you as you sipped on his lips and sighed every so often. He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, and you felt his smirk when you moaned in surprise. Every inch of your skin burned with desire for him.

As he carried you over to the side of the pool, you pulled away shortly. You took the liberty to attack his neck with frenzied kisses. It felt just as you had imagined a thousand times. You couldn’t possibly recount all the instances when you had found yourself staring at his neck and shoulders in the past weeks. He was easily the biggest distraction you had ever known. But it wasn’t your fault his tanned skin was so inviting and his strong presence ever so alluring. Returning his teasing, you bit into his shoulder, kissing and sucking on it right after.

“Fuck, baby,” he said in a throaty tone. “You’re amazing.”

Softly, he rubbed his nose against yours before your lips locked again. The kiss was all but soft. Your tongues meddled as if you were starved people and you could barely keep your hands in one place. Not that you would want to. You wanted to glue his hands onto your body or better yet handcuff him to your wrists. What was the opposite of a restraining order called? You were about to invent a word for it. Never before had you been so intoxicated, so in ecstasy with another person.

He pulled aside the fabric of your top momentarily and cupped your breasts in his hands. You gasped and melted into his touch and the way he played with your nipples. He attacked your neck in kisses and you shut your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips.

“I really want you.” He had his hands on your ass and all you could think about was the growing bulge in his swimming shorts. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin fabric of your swim top doing little to nothing to separate your bodies. How could somebody’s whole existence be so titillating? He pulled away, just far enough to speak but barely. “I’ve wanted you like this for a while. But I didn’t want to unsettle you by making you think I just want sex from you. Truth is, I don’t want you to be just some summer romance, Y/N. Every day I hope you’ll still be here when summer is over.”

“Why would you think I’m going anywhere?” you asked. “You’re the reason I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I ask myself every day how I managed to end up with you in the first place.”

“That’s easy. First, threaten to demolish the turnstile with your stubbornness, second, offer your head to a bunch of kids with a water ball, third, square up against a bug in front of a hundred people, fourth- “

“Okay! Enough,” you said. “Don’t bring up my clumsiness. That’s just about the least sexy thing in the world.”

“Baby, I think there’s nothing not sexy about you,” he spoke. He kissed you deeply and all your embarrassing memories vanished at once. “So, you’re cool with this?”

His sudden change in tone caused your breath to hitch in your throat, as his hands lingered by your hips, just above your bikini bottom. You only nodded, the motion getting more eager as the words sunk in. He slid his fingers along the inside of your thigh, and you squirmed under his touch in desperation. Swiftly, he pushed aside the material above your center. His digits slid through your wetness, catching the nub between them, and rubbing ever so slowly. An overwhelmed gasp spilled over your lips, and you closed your eyelids.

“Fuck- ,“ you muttered under your breath. He teased your core, nearly sliding his finger into you, but then pulling away to find your nub to toy with.

“You look so beautiful,” he said. At his words, you looked at him through fluttering eyelids. He was one to talk about beauty. The luminescence from underwater sharpened his features, and his eyes had something magical, something enchanting about them. Like he could have you – or anyone – without saying a word. He reminded you of a merman, or rather a siren. Ready to drag you along with him, deep under the surface. And you were so willing to let it happen. For all you knew, you were long lost and under his spell anyway.

“Have you ever done it in public?” he asked. You were too distracted by his fingers on you at first, head hanging back in ecstasy, until you snapped out of it.

“No, but – fuck – I guess I can strike that one off my sex bucket list after tonight, can’t I?” you said.

“You have a sex bucket list? Interesting, tell me more about it,” he smirked. His eyes darkened and his tongue licked over his lips once. As if on command, his lazy ministrations on you quickened, rubbing your clit in small, circular motions until you were a moaning, stammering mess. You suspected he did so just to see your immediate reaction, and you gave him just what he wanted.

“Can we postpone the – the talking…on later?” you murmured, feeling like collapsing against his broad shoulders. “I’m kind of too busy to – to talk.”

“I can see that,” he teased you, kissing you gently. The delicacy of his lips only made your head spin more. “You’re so sweet, baby.”

“Don’t you want to get busy too?” you asked. You reached for his swimming trunks and wrapped your hand around his hard member through the material. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“Shit- me too.” His arousal echoed in his moans, and he sucked in a breath. There was a sense of power in knowing you could make him react so gravely by doing so little. You tugged on his trunks and pulled them down a little to reveal his full length. Palming him, you felt how painfully hard he must have been for a while now. He groaned and it was the best thing you had ever heard. Eagerly, you slid your bikini bottom off and watched for a moment as it sunk down into the depths of the pool. Your legs wrapped around his waist again as he aligned his cock with your core.

At this point you supposed you were both out of words. Hunger had taken over and you barely managed to form a sentence. He kissed you and you hummed and nodded, wanting him to know you were ready. Easily, he entered you and you whimpered at the way he stretched your velvet walls after all the wait. Your senses were overcome with everything around you. The warm water enveloping the both of you, the soft summer breeze caressing your faces, his hands on your hips as he guided your body into his thrusts and the sound of your breathless moans and sighs – it was pure bliss. Night had almost fallen, with the sky being a deep blue, almost black by now. It was a perfect setting for a perfect night with your favorite person.

You gazed into his dilated pupils and the coil in your stomach tightened in the most delicious way possible. Now you recounted a myriad of dreams you’d seen him in. Not always, but occasionally he showed up in your dirtiest of dreams, with his gorgeous, addictive smile and strong arms. But now he was right there, in front of you – inside of you – and you apprehended how weak your boldest imaginations had been. Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders as you clenched around his cock. He moaned your name huskily and it only clouded your head further.

It was crazy how loving a person could magnify everything. Even with closed eyes, the mere idea of him fucking you, at night in a public pool, could beat every single other experience you’d ever had. You felt like you were blessed with the audience with a god. A god, who had manifested on earth only to scoop you up and show you the finest things in life. You definitely couldn’t think of a finer thing than his cock dragging through your walls, hitting your g-spot repeatedly, while he had you cased against the pool tiles. Moans and little whimpers fell from your lips, and you were glad there wasn’t a single soul close by who could have heard.

He was jaw-dropping. With the way he pounded into you hard, using the poolside wall as support on your back, you felt your head spin as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your skin seemed to prickle wherever he touched you and you pushed your chest against his. Just a little closer, you told yourself, even though you were running out of space already. It was body against body while he whispered naughty things into your ears, telling you how incredible you felt, how lucky he had gotten with you and how sexy he found you.

“You’re the fucking best I’ve ever had, baby,” he said. His teeth grazed your neck as he kissed your sensitive skin messily. You could have counted every single drop of water hanging from the strands of his hair and adorning his face. Could have taken notice of every single eyelash and even the tiniest speckles of color in his irises. But you could barely command your eyes to stay open.

“So- close,” you said. In your ecstasy, you clawed at his back as another wave of pleasure went through your entire body.

“Together, hm?” he said, lips brushing over your cheek with every thrust. You hummed and nodded, as he picked up his thrusts to a toe-curling speed. With every touch of your sweet spot, you felt reality slip away a little further, and you were doing nothing to fight it. You invited the feeling in, resting your forehead against his, breaths coming out in short puffs. And then it overcame you. Your orgasm jolted through you like electricity, and you clung to him as if you might have sunken otherwise. It made your shared moans high pitched, and he followed you, pulling you into his arms like it was alone you who was keeping him afloat.

The splashing of the water softened as he drew out your highs for as long as possible with slower thrusts. Eventually, he halted completely. He cradled your face in his hands and when you finally opened your tired eyes, he was watching you with full adoration. His charming smile caused an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. This was only the beginning of your time together, yet you could barely fathom your fortune. And as it seemed, this time fate was on your side.

[kpopaeipathy]

Relax (Eun Woo Oneshot)

Pairing: Guard! EunWoo x Royal! Reader (gender-neutral)

Genre: Fluff, maybe slightly angst

Word count: 1,987

No warnings

Summary: When Eun Woo wants to protect you, but you just want him to relax and enjoy.

A/N: This was inspired by this prompt.

The mountains that surrounded the city reflected the colors of the sky more clearly, as if they were its own starless, self-lit expanse, lacking only by the hardy winter trees. Looking at them brought a feeling of peace and tranquility, protection even, because no one would dare tarnish such beauty. But it was not the splendor that prevented the invaders.

The few who tried to cross them quickly understood the dangers that probed the ground covered with frozen water in crystalline form. A sound at the wrong time would cause the crime to be covered by the cold, deadly hands of the natural shield of that small royal town.

The entire realm, in fact, was devastatingly beautiful and intimidating, hidden between mountains and valleys, protected by nature more than by guards and armies. They didn't need to get unstuck much to deter invaders and thieves. Never, in all its grand history, had the kingdom of Hanian been so threatened as to demand extra protection from any royal or its subjects.

Therefore, the citizens of Etherna, the royal city, did not understand the gravity of the situation and continued to offer their grandiose balls and banquets, to which the royal family could not refuse to participate, as the flaunting would be more dangerous than the possible invaders.

Also, there was the fact that this city was the most protected and the most difficult to enter or leave. Which in itself was a danger, as escape was unlikely. Even so, they were all gathered in the magnanimous gardens of Lady Khmer's mansion, dancing to flutes and violins.

"Would it kill you to relax?" you provoked your personal guard.

Since before you left the palace, Eun Woo had been alert, rigid, ready to attack anyone who got in your way (which almost happened when one of the guests who had already arrived at the dance drunk bumped into you and fell in front of you). Cha Eun Woo was the best guard in all of Hanian, assigned to you to protect the sole heir to the throne, but the fact that he was inordinately good bothered you a little, mostly because you would do anything to see a smile on his perfectly shaped lips.

“Probably,” he responded to your teasing, still scanning his surroundings as if searching for some hidden killer. “Likely it would kill you too. That's rather the point."

You smiled. Eun Woo's acid humor and straightforward responses were the traits you liked best about him. Of course, you also appreciated the symmetrical face and satin skin, with eyes so expressive they made up for the constant serious and focused countenance. The body was also not to be thrown away, with defined muscles and prepared for any battle.

“I'll risk it,” you said, drawing the guard's gaze to you, and held out a hand. “Dance with me.”

Eun Woo frowned and didn't move, noting the gloved hand in front of him.

Before he even opened his mouth to respond, you already knew what the words would be, so you just spoke before him: "It's an order."

A deep sigh was the only clue to the tormented state of your personal guard, as he remained serious and alert as he gave in to your request and took your hand to lead you onto the dance floor.

The smile on your lips deepened when you saw Eun Woo sigh once more at the scandalized looks of the other guests. It wasn't the first time you decided to shock royalty by dancing with your personal guard. In fact, that was your most common rebellious act and you didn't understand how the nobles and burghers weren't used to it yet.

“Look at me,” you ordered as Eun Woo's dark orbs scanned the hall on your first lap of the track.

He didn't sigh this time, just looked into your eyes and stayed that way for the rest of the time. The muscles were still stiff under your hands, a clear indication that he was still prepared to jump in front of an arrow to defend you.

“I'm not going to tell you to relax,” you stated, realizing that your words had exactly the opposite effect.

That was your best-known trick, at least between the two of you. After so many years as monarch and personal guard, you and Eun Woo had forged a kind of friendship that no one in the realm understood. Sometimes even you didn't understand. However, you came to appreciate the man in front of you so much that you used every resource in your power to make him relax and have fun whenever you could. Eun Woo never complained, not even to his companions, who often blurted out near you that Eun Woo had already commented on appreciating your dedication to his mental health.

He had never questioned you either. From the first time you had tried to make him relax, Eun Woo had accepted your orders like any other, as if your every word mattered. Until this moment, of course...

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, his husky voice invading your senses and raising the hairs on the back of your neck.

"I don't like to see you so stiffened."

"I have a duty here, Your Highness." Despite the firm tone of voice, you could feel that he was dancing calmly, as you intended. “If anything happens to you because I was careless for a minute…”

“Nothing will happen,” you interrupted him. “We are in the most protected kingdom in the world, in the most difficult city to penetrate. I have the best guard ever.”

“None of this is a guarantee…”

“If someone breaks a plate somewhere, you will stop your steps, put me behind your back, and verify who was responsible so you can kill or forgive. If a hum invades the melody that surrounds us, you will scan the surroundings with those deep eyes and find the reason to decide whether to hide me or continue dancing.”

"Your Highness..."

“I'm well protected,” you wouldn't let him speak and stiffen again. After all the turmoil your kingdom was going through, you and Eun Woo, as well as everyone in the royal family, deserved that night's rest. "I have you so I'm fine."

He sighed again, this time more softly. And for a split second, you saw the corners of his beautiful lips move upwards as if they were trying to smile.

“You overestimate me,” he said, causing you to snap back to reality and stop dreaming of a completely relaxed Cha Eun Woo.

“No, I'm a realist. It's different,” you replied, still smiling.

You were silent again, enjoying the last chords of the waltz that lulled you. Eun Woo was by far the best dance partner you've ever had and the fact that you talked and interacted in those few minutes made it the dance you'd most enjoyed in your entire life.

When you left the dance floor and returned to the secluded and sheltered corner you were at before, you treasured that night even more, as it was the first time Eun Woo had held your hands together for so long after the dance. He only released you when you were stopped and alone again.

“Your Highness,” he called softly, drawing your eyes to the perfect face that didn't even resemble that of a royal guard. "I appreciate your concern and I admit that perhaps I overreacted tonight."

Even though your eyes widened at the unexpected words, you managed to control yourself in time to joke and say, "Perhaps?"

This time, contrary to everything you knew and recognized about Cha Eun Woo, the smile rehearsed on the dance floor actually appeared on the guard's face, reaching his dark eyes, which thinned as they smiled along with his lips. Your heart raced in such a way that you thought you were having a cardiac arrhythmia.

"As I was saying," he continued, keeping the corners of his lips raised and your heart pounding, "I may have overreacted tonight, but I need to ask you not to distract me again."

“What? Why?" You didn't understand. You even won a smile with your endeavor, how could he not want you to do that again?

"I cannot lose you."

Frustrated, you took a deep breath and huffed, clenching your hands into fists before you began gesturing as you said, "I already told you, I know I'm well protected..."

"You'll always be," it was Eun Woo's turn to interrupt you, "that's not the point."

"Then what is?" you asked, moving closer to him when you noticed the smile leaving that face you cherished so much. "Why can't you just have a little fun with me?"

“But I have fun with you all the time…”

“Eun Woo…”

“Your Highness,” he spoke pointedly, cutting off any argument that began with his name that would make him keep silent if you ordered him to. "I wouldn't forgive myself."

“What are you talking about?" you asked, furrowing your brow.

Again, he sighed. Then, once again contradicting your expectations and shocking anyone who looked at you, including yourself, he placed his hands on your shoulders to stop the advance you kept making towards him. But he kept you close enough that the whispered words that came out of his mouth could only be heard by you.

“I can, yes, pay close attention to my surroundings and protect you faster than any other royal guard, but even I have my limits, and having you in my arms, looking at the smile that paints your face, is a very powerful distraction.” Once again, your eyes widened at the words. “At any other day, any other time,” he continued, “I wouldn't mind not resisting you. But we are facing a unique threat, an enemy that knows how to penetrate our defenses that should be impenetrable. I can't afford the distraction. If I lose you, I won't forgive myself.”

That was definitely the longest speech that Cha Eun Woo had given you in all your years together. Not only because there were so many words, but also because there was still so much he was saying between the lines. And it was everything you've dreamed of hearing since setting eyes on that perfect-in-every-way guard.

You knew you could never ask for more from him than that, knew you could never get what you really wanted from him because it wouldn't be fair for you not to be able to give it back. Your eyes filled with tears at the realization that you couldn't respond to unspoken words. Your lips trembled with the force you took to hold back the answer that was on the tip of your tongue. You loved him. With all your might. Nor would you forgive yourself if you lost him.

So you understood and accepted his argument, nodding once firmly so that he could see that you were agreeing without saying anything. Eun Woo watched your face and opened his eyes a little wider than usual, in his own expression of surprise, before reluctantly releasing your shoulders and taking two steps away.

“I promise not to distract you anymore,” you finally managed to say.

"Thank you," he muttered, looking away from you and taking in his surroundings.

Once again, you looked at the icy mountains that surrounded the city and wished that protection was enough to bring peace to Eun Woo's mind and body, you prayed to any of the gods that the threat would be neutralized so that your guard could relax in your arms again.

You smiled then, looking back at Eun Woo, who once again had the mask of concentration and seriousness on his face.

"But can't we even take a walk in the gardens?"

"Sure," he responded to your teasing, "I can put a target in your head too if you like."

The acid humor was still the man's best feature.

[plus-size-reader]

That Shirt

Klaus Hargreeves x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2083 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Reader and Klaus decide to get married, but they run into a few issues, only remedied by his unique wardrobe

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You knew it was crazy.

The idea that you had even considered getting married didn’t make any sense at all but you couldn’t help it..

The truth was that you loved Klaus, more than anything in the world, and when people loved one another, they got married.

It was what normal people did, what you would have done if Reginald hadn’t turned you both into some kind of vigilante superhero squad.

All things considered, it was probably the most mundane thing you’d do in your life.

Still, that didn’t mean everyone else in your interesting little family was so keen on the choice you were making.

Of course, they were shocked by the announcement of your engagement, but you didn’t really think it was going to be as big of a deal as they were making it. You were both adults, and only related as far as your adoption went..

It wasn’t hurting anyone.

...but given the fit Allison was currently throwing, you would have thought you had suggested that you end the world, again.

“I just can’t see you going through with it. I mean, Klaus?” she repeated, for what felt like the fifteenth time since you got here. You wanted to go impromptu dress shopping, seeing as you wedding was in two days, but she wasn’t having it.

Instead, all she wanted to talk about was how bad of an idea getting married was, and the worst part was, if you were her, you would have been doing the same thing.

You knew Klaus, and you knew better than anyone how flippant and strange he was, but you weren’t a child. You knew what was best for you, even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else.

Even if it didn’t make any sense to someone as close to you as Allison.

You understood why she was doing this, why she was your biggest critic, but you also couldn’t make your every decision based on that. You had all lived your entire lives like that thus far, and it wasn’t worth it.

By this point in your life, you wanted to be able to make the choices your father had taken away from you all for so long.

“I know it’s not the choice you would make for me, but I could say the same to you. Like Luthor is such a prize” you shot back, using her crush against her as you so often did when she tried to tease you about Klaus.

She thought this was so strange, but you both knew that sometimes these kinds of things didn’t make any logical sense.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about-” she tried, as if she hadn’t been the one to start this in the first place.

All you wanted was to marry the man you loved, and Allison was the one trying to force cold feet on you.

“I do, actually, and every day, I wish you could accept it” you sighed, turning around and leaving the way you’d come without much more in the way of an order.

You loved Allison and you knew that at some point, she would come around. Until she did, you were just going to have to go find a dress yourself.

...unless, of course, there was another way.

There was always one place you could go when the rest of the world felt like it was against you. A place that wasn’t much of a place at all.

“Woah there, why the long face?” Klaus cooed, rolling over in bed the second he heard the door, open and close in succession, followed impressively closely by a heavy sigh from you.

You had that far away look on your face, the look you got when the world made choices for you that you didn’t agree with.

Not that figuring that out was the hard part.

“Oh nothing, I just found out that Allison doesn’t think we should be getting married. So, it must be a tuesday” you grumbled, flopping down on the space on his bed Klaus had made for you, having already anticipated your deflating into him.

There was no good reason a man like him should have been so good at reading you, and yet, even with his brain scattered five ways from Sunday, he could crack you open like a book.

“It’s okay honeybunch, I still think getting married is a great idea” he allowed, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he did his best to focus on actually making you feel better. The two of you knew this was going to go down this way.

The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why you cared so much.

You had never worried about the opinions of your siblings before.

“I’m not kidding, Klaus. What if it is one big mistake?” you sighed, ignoring the soft kiss he pressed to your forehead as you further retreated into his frame, rather than focusing on the disaster that surrounded you.

You were supposed to get married in two days, and so far, you didn’t have anything.

The two of you had decided to have your wedding in the backyard of the manor, so it would be small and private, but even then, there was still so much that had to be done. There had to be food, places to sit, and a dress.

You still needed a dress.

“We aren’t ready for this” you muttered, your words buried so far into his chest that you weren’t even sure that he had heard them but the more you thought about it, the more you hoped he hadn’t.

Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t a mistake.

You knew that marrying Klaus was the only thing you wanted to do, and that it was going to make you happy.

...and thankfully, Klaus knew it too.

Even after all these years, there wasn’t anything you could hide from him.

It was clear to him that the stress was getting to you, and because of that, Klaus made up his mind. This was one of those times when it was his job to take care of you like you had taken care of him a million times over.

After all, he was going to be your husband pretty soon and husbands didn’t let their wives stumble into nervous breakdowns.

“Okay, get up grumpy. I’ve got an idea” he prompted, all but rolling over you to stand up. You were going to get a dress with Allison, but given the circumstances, it seemed she wasn’t going to be joining you.

Instead, the man in front of you was going to use every bit of fashion prowess and skill he had to figure something else out.

All he had to do was get you up out of bed.

“There’s no point. I doubt anybody's even going to come”

Those words were little more than another groan from your throat, this time flowing seamlessly into the fabric of Klaus’ sheets. Evidently, since everyone else thought your getting married was a mistake, maybe it wasn’t worth throwing a big party.

Maybe it was stupid.

You weren’t children anymore, and the idea of a big white wedding was one that seemed sort of out of place for you. If your father could see it now, you were sure he would lock you in your closet.

He hadn’t raised you to get married, or care for anyone in the first place.

Not that he managed to actually raise you to do much of anything.

“What if this whole wedding is just to get back at him? What if it’s one big mistake?” you repeated, your voice just as small and uncertain as he could have expected when you did manage to raise your head from the mattress.

However, as much as Klaus wanted to rush to your side and convince you of just how wonderful an idea this was, it wasn’t going to make a difference.

His words weren’t going to make you feel better. Klaus knew that if he was going to make a real difference, if he was going to convince you that this was what you should be doing, it was going to take something bigger.

Something grander.

Thankfully, before you could wallow anymore in your upset, Klaus found exactly what it was he was looking for.

“Hold that thought, for one second” he prompted, leaving the room for just a second with the garment he’d been searching for tucked under his arm, hidden from your curious gaze.

You had no idea what he could have had going on, or why he wasn’t taking this more seriously but you knew Klaus well enough to know that there was no stopping whatever off the rails thing he had in mind.

It would just be better to let him do his thing, and maybe, he may even help you figure this out by the time he’s done.

He did have a habit of surprising you like that.

“Here! If I wear this, no one will pay any mind to what you’re wearing” Klaus teased, entering the room again with a start, a smile so wide there that you feared he may physically tear the flesh of his handsome face.

After so many years with Klaus, you had learned not to be shocked by anything he brought to the table.

That being said, you couldn’t stop yourself from gawking a little bit at the dress shirt Klaus was currently wearing, waiting for your input.

It was quite the shirt, flowy with an ornate pattern in emerald green and black, finished with a red-orange trim.  

“That actually works quite nicely with your complexion” you shrugged, only standing when he offered a hand to you, the cuffs of that shirt flapping as he moved in a way that brought a smile to your face.

It didn’t matter how hard you tried to remember who frustrated and flustered you were, that garment had to have been the most hilarious thing you’d ever seen.

“I sure hope so, this is my nicest outfit” he defended, shooting you a wink that let you know this was his plan all along. Always the clever jester, he knew it would be better to distract you than to let you wallow in your own self-pity.

You wouldn’t have looked at it as something to get married in, not at first, but the more you studied the truly hideous shirt, you understood just what he was getting at.

Klaus was quick enough to pose it as a joke, but the point behind his actions was loud and clear to you. As long as the two of you were together, it didn’t matter who was there to witness it or if you were wearing a potato sack.

Marrying the man you loved was the most important thing, and if he wanted to get married in something like that, you would happily stand by his side.

“I love you” you gushed, barely holding back a cheek-splitting grin of your own as you admired the beautiful disaster in front of you.

Klaus had always been the most authentic, raw person you had ever had the privilege to know and the fact that you were lucky enough for him to love you as you loved him was all you should have been thinking about now.

Your wedding was supposed to be one of the best days of your life, after all.

...and, even though it wasn’t here yet, you knew that it would be as long as Klaus was by your side.

“You love the shirt, but I’ll take it” he grinned, reaching down to capture your hand in his own before leading you back toward the entrance of the room, his focus set on something that you couldn't have hoped to predict on your own.

Not that you got a chance to ask him to tell you before he took it upon himself to fill you in.

After all, there was still a problem at hand, even if he had managed to put it into perspective for you.

“We still have a little bit to do before this shirt and I can make you our wife” he teased, only further proving to you that this was the man you wanted to marry. Only Klaus could talk about his shirt like its own entity.

To be fair, though, there was nothing more you wanted than to be the Lady Hargreeves, floral shirt or no.

[nyxerebus]

Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader)

Summary: Carl was running for his life, being chased by walkers after he went on his own looking for Sophia. When he is corned by the walker a stranger woman saves him. She is looking for her Fiancee for the old world, but offers her help returning him to the farm. They bond over the days in the woods and she learns she might have another reason to find the farm.

Words: 3.1 k

“Carl?” Lori shouted across the farm. She hadn’t seen the boy all day and was starting to get nervous. “Have you seen Carl?” Maggie shook her head. “Not since breakfast” She answered in her southern accent. “Maybe he is with Rick? Or Shane?” Lori just nodded, but didn’t feel any safer. Where was her son?

Carl was running for his life. The two walkers were closing inn. He knew better than to shout and call for help, knowing it would probably attract even more walkers, but right now he didn’t care. “MOM!” He quickened his pace. “DAD!” Two walkers turned into four as two more appeared at his side. Tears was now streaming down his face as he was sure he was going to die here. He looked back again, ready to face death. But the walkers didn’t close inn on him. Instead arrow after arrow filled the air and all the walkers dropped. When Carl turned back around, fully expecting to see Daryl standing there, was surprised to see a stranger. “Are you okay?” The stranger asked him. Carl looked up at the woman. He was inn shock and didn’t know what to say. “You got a group? A family” She continued to ask him. When she tried to approach him, he backed up. “Hey, you don’t need to worry, I won’t do you any harm. Look” She dropped her cross bow and unleased her knife from her holster. When both fell to the ground, she could see him relaxing more. “Can I ask your name?”

“Carl, Carl Grimes”

“Well, Carl Grimes. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I’m looking for my fiancée. But I can help you return back to you family. Someone as young as you shouldn’t be out here alone”.

Carl was still unsure about her. Remembering her mother’s speech about stranger danger. But those were the rules of the old world. Here in the new world they should accept help form anyone who invites it, right? After thinking it through, he nodded. “Okay, okay. This is a good start. How far away is your camp?” Carl looked down, a bit embarrassed. “I don’t know”

“Do you know the directions?” He shook his head. “Well shit, looks like were in quiet a pickle huh?” She smiled at him, trying to ease him. “I don’t know this area, never been here before. So, I say we head in one direction and hope for the best. What do you think?” He nodded. “Great! Lets go then!”

And so they started to wander. (Y/N) in front, with Carl a meter behind. “Sooo, do you have a favourite movie or something?” He just stared at her. “What! Come on, were going to be stuck with each other for a while, might as well get to know each other”. After a minute of silence, he spoke. “Iron Man”

“That’s a good movie! Mine is probably that or Pride and Prejudice”. Carl scrunched up his nose almost in disgust. “But that’s so girly! All they do is talk about their feelings and kiss!” She looked back at him, offended by his remarks. “And!? It’s a great love story that is still relevant to this day” She played up her offence more hoping it would make him laugh. It did. “Its still so girly” He said between giggles. “Never mind, were is the nearest walker. I’m feeding you to it” (Y/N)’s giggling was now a full on laughter. “Nooo!” Carl was laughing too. (Y/N) was relieved he was laughing, afraid the incident had traumatized him badly.

Back at the farm, panic was settling inn as no one knew were Carl was. “Who was the last to see him?” Rick asked the group. “I saw him after breakfast” Andrea spoke up, she and Carol was comforting Lori, who was having a full blown break down. “He probably went out looking for Sophia alone” All looked to Shane. “I’m mean why else would he suddenly leave”.

“I think your right, but he is still healing from the gun wound, he wouldn’t get far. And if a walker got him, he wouldn’t have much fight in him”.

“My baby!” Lori cried out in agony. “We need to send out search groups, he couldn’t have gone far”. Everyone agreed with Rick. “And with some luck we might find Sophia as well” Daryl nodded at Carol. She smiled back.

The sun had set and the night was creeping closer. (Y/N) had set up an alert system around the small camp they built for the night. Barb wire around them with empty cans tied up. They would rattle if a walker came close and waking them up. It was how (Y/N) had been sleeping every night.

“Go to sleep, I’ll look out for walkers” (Y/N) said leaned back against a tree. She had laid down her sleeping bag that he could use. “I wont fall asleep” Carl complained. “Try”.

“Can you tell me a story” She looked at him weird. “Aren’t you a bit old for fairy tales?”

“Not fairy tales, stories about your life, from before this?” She still looked at him weirdly. “My mom used to tell me stories from her collage days so I could fall asleep when I was younger. Can you please?” When he looked at her with those poppy eyes, (even though it was hard to see with only their small campfire as a light source), who could say no?

“Okay kid, one story than you go to sleep. Deal?” He nodded “What do you want to know?”

“You are engaged right, how was the proposal?” She giggled at the memory but started to tell about the best day of her life:

“Daryl! What are we doing here?” She was a bit frustrated as the redneck pulled her along the streets. It was midday and pretty damn hot. She pulled down her dress skirt as the wind picked up. “Have some patience’ damn woman” She giggled at his bruteness. One of the things she loved about the man, one of many. When they stopped in front of a new bookshop, he could see the hearts in her eyes. “I dint know they opened a new bookshop here!” She exclaimed. “Saw it last night and thought you might like it” Lies. He had known they were opening here for the past month, doing everything in his power to make sure you dint know. They actually had opening night a week ago.

Now it was her turn to drag him along. It surprised her to see the shop empty, seeing as the streets were pretty full. But she didn’t think much of it. Running between shelves after shelves, the one book in hand turning into two, than four and now finally six books. But when she turned around, all the books fell too the floor. Because there before her was her lovely boyfriend, down on one knee with a ring between his fingers. “Oh my god” She whispered into the silent shop. As if on cue, the speakers played her favourite song.

“(Y/N) (L/N), you are the love of my life. And I just want to be your man’ for the rest of your life. And, shit you know I aint’ good with my emotions, but when I’m with ya’ it seems so easy. Shit, I’m messing it all up” He was stumbling over his own words, clearly forgetting a pre-rehearsed speech. “no, please continue” tears were forming in her eyes. “I love ya’ (Y/N), my Sunshine. You book crazy mad woman. I love everything about ya’. So, will ya’ marry me?” He was ready for a rejection, ready to see her walk out of his life forever. But she didn’t.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, a million times yes” Tears were streaming down her face. He stood up and kissed her. His arm wrapping around her waist, bending her down a bit so he could kiss her more passionately. Like in the movies. They only broke off so he could slip the ring on her finger, it fit her perfectly.

“Did he rent out the bookshop?” Carl asked, clearly very invested. “Yeah, cost him way too much, but he didn’t care. That idiot was never good with money” She giggled at the memories. “What about after, what did you guys do?”

“Nah nah nah, the deal was one story than you go to sleep. I can tell you more tomorrow”. Carl huffed in annoyance but turned around in the sleeping bag. “Good night”

“Good night Carl”.

“Rick, it’s been a whole night! Where is he?” Lori was completely lost; she hadn’t slept all night. To worried about where her son was. “What if his trapped, oh god! What if those walkers got him?”

“We can’t think like that! He is fine. He has to be” Rick did everything he could to try and look confident and comfort his wife, but the worry was eating him up as well. The same thoughts were running through his head as well. Those terrible images of his baby boy being ripped apart by the walkers.

“Okay, open your mouth” Carl did as instruct and tried to catch the berry she threw into his mouth. She missed, but only with an inch! “You suck!” Carl teased her. “Hey! I’m not the one with a tiny mouth!” She teased back. “Alright, lets start walking big man”. He nodded and helped her clean up the camp. “Can I ask a question?” The boy asked as they continued to walk. “Sure”

“What happened between you and your fiancée? Why aren’t you together now?”

She took a deep breath. “When the outbreak happened, we weren’t together. He was off god know where with his brother, probably bailing him out or something-” Carl looked at her questioning, “That’s another story. But yeah, we weren’t together. I was at campus and that turned into a mess, I lots a lot of friends there. Mass panic and everybody evacuated. I and a couple of other students bunkered up a dorm room. Living of the instant noodles and beer we found. That lasted maybe 4 days. So, we left and split off, I wanted to go into the woods, where he would be and the rest wanted to go to back to Atlanta. And since than I have been looking for him. Living in the woods like a mad man.” Tears started to form in her eyes when she relived the horrible times at the campus.

“Sorry I asked”. He looked down. “Its alright” She smiled at him. “What were you studying?”

“Heh, literature. Not much help in the apocalypse, I guess”.

“Than how did you learn to use the bow and hunt?”

“He taught me” She smiled at the memory, and thanked him desperately for teaching her:

“Why do I need to learn this? I live in the city, I will never hunt or live in the woods!” Daryl just scuffed at her and placed the bow he bought in her hands. He had brought her out to the woods after her classes to teach her hunting. “ya’ need to be able to fend for yourself and feed yourself” She just looked him with a raise brow, but eventually gave in. “Fine, fine. Teach me”. A smirk played out on his face, happy with his little victory. Truth be told, he needed to know that you could fend for yourself and be independent, in and out of the city. It eased him at night, in a weird way. “Why cant I learn the crossbow like you?”

“First bow, than crossbow. Alright Sunshine’”

Shoooo! The arrow flew through the air and hit the squirl in the head. “Score!” (Y/N) exclaimed. She fastened the squirrel two her belt, joining the five others she had shot. “We eating good tonight!” Carl looked at the squirrels with a lot of scepticisms. “What? Don’t tell me you’re a picky eater”

“No, it just looks so weird like that” They bickered back and front while they walked in the direction, they thought the farm was inn. They had changed their direction a couple of times, hoping to get closer and see sign of life.

They had spent the entire day walking, and as the night came closer they found a spot to camp up. Carl set up the wires while (Y/N) started a fire to cook the squirrels. While they ate, Carl told her about his family and the people they were in the camp with. “What the hell! You got shot?!”

“Yeah!” Carl had a proud grin on his face, finally having something that made him look cool. “Shit, man your tougher than me if you can bounce back like that”. He laughed and continued to brag about the experience. It was a nice conversation. He talked a bunch about his family, mostly about his dad. Clearly his hero. But than he mentioned a familiar name.

“Wait! Daryl? Daryl with a crossbow?” Carl just nodded. “Does he have a west with angel wings? Brother named Merle?” When Carl nodded again. Tears started to from in her eyes. She was going to be reunited with Daryl, her Daryl. He was alive. That night when Carl finally fell asleep, her mind wandered to all the amazing memories with the man.

It was cold in the room. The window was wide open and letting the moonshine lighting up the small bedroom. (Y/N) and Daryl was huddled together for warmth on the bed. It had been an long night. From a failed date after the place Daryl wanted to take her to was closed, she got catcalled which ended up with her having to drag Daryl of the stranger. And when they got home, he showed her his scars. She was the first romantic partner he had ever shown. The night ended with their naked, sweaty bodies pressed together, while both worked to please the other. It was their first night together, her first night with anyone. When they lied down together basking in the aftermath of their climax, it was one of the happiest times in her life. He wrapped his arms around her and puller her on top of him. Her head resting on his chest, with his arms wrapped around her, caressing her back with one hand, the other squeezing her thigh. “I love ya Sunshine”.

“(Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)! Wake up!” Carl shook her awake. “What’s happening” She immediately reached for her bow and charged it ahead of her, ready to attack any enemy that threatened them. “I can see the farm!” The night had made it harder to see a head of them, but now that the sun was lighting up the world, they could see the farm a head of them. (Y/N) realised her bow and the breath she was holding. They packed up the camp at record time, both wanting to reach the farm as quickly as possible. The walk over to the farm was quiet. When they reached the outcast of the woods, a voice stopped them from going any further.

“Well, well, well, look at that. Do you guys see this fine piece of ass” A man walked out from behind a tree with a gun raised at them both. Three other guys came out, all with their weapons raised. “Sure do boss. Haven’t seen a woman this fine in what feels like ages. I’m just aching to be inside of her”.

(Y/N) placed herself protectively in front of Carl. “What do you guys want? Our food, weapons? You can have that, just leave us alone” Her voice trembled a little afraid of what they will do to them. “Oh, we don’t need your left overs or those teeth pickers you call knifes, no baby. We want something different” He grabbed his crotch when he said the last part. “Carl, run”.

“What? I cant leave-” “Carl! Run!” One of the guys tackled her down. Holding her down on the ground. “Get the kid” The boss said to the guy closest to Carl. “RUN!” She shouted before her mouth was covered. Carl finally ran away, when the guy ordered to catch him started to run after him.

When he made it out of the forest and ran across the fields to the farm, he started to shout out for help. “MOM! DAD!”.

“Do you guys hear that?” Glenn asked the group as they sat around planning the move for the day. “That’s Carl” Lori ran towards the field and saw her son running across it being chased by a stranger.

“Carl!” All the guys saw it too and started to run to Carl. The guy chasing him, saw the men running towards him and turned around to warn the others. “Carl!” Rick finally got to hug his son after being missing for 3 days. But the hug was cut short when Carl pushed free. “We need to head back, (Y/N), the girl that helped me is back there and the guys are attacking her!” He pulled his fathers hand and started to move back to the woods, but Daryl stopped him.

“(Y/N), as in (Y/N) (L/N)?” When Carl nodded Daryl took off and ran towards the forest. The others followed, but this time Carl was pushed back behind them. When they got closer they could hear her voice yelling for them to get off. They reached the area Daryl did not hesitate to shoot the guys around her, holding her down while the main guy was cutting up her clothes. When she got her hands free, she leaped on the last guy and grabbed her knife they had forgotten to remove from her belt. When he was pushed to the ground she didn’t hesitate to stab him in the chest. She didn’t stop after one, two three or four. Blood splashed on her face and torned shirt. Her hands were covered in blood.

Rick took a step forward, but stepped on a twig that snaped in two. She leaped up and raised the knife up, ready to protect herself against another attacker. But when she saw Daryl standing there, she dropped the knife. Sobs wracked through her body and she took a stumbling step forward. Daryl closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn’t care that she was covered in blood, just happy that she was safe. She was alive.

Her knees buckled and she fell down, taking him with her. They were both on their knees holding each other and crying into each other’s necks. Right now, nobody else mattered. Not Rick, Glenn or Shane who was staring at the scene in front of them. Not the bodies of her attackers lying around them. No one. Only them as they held each other for the first time. It seemed as Carl had led her back to her family just as much as she had helped him back to his.

A/N: Part 2 is out! You can read it here : Part 2

Please ignore any spelling mistakes as English is not my first language :) 

[multiplefandomfics]

Everything happens for a reason

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Former Steve x reader)

Warnings: cheating, angst, pregnancy, semi-public sex, Steve’s an ass in this one,

Words: 5213

A/N: Well this escalated quickly! When you have too much time at work stuff like this happens :D!

I have no idea how they do a c-section or any medical terms of that field other than the stuff I’ve seen on Grey’s Anatomy so forgive me when the birth is wrongly described.

“Babe? You home?” you called out to your fiance excited to tell him the news. No response, so you ventured further into the dark hallway.

You could see light coming from under the bedroom door. Thinking nothing of it because it was already relatively late, you walked to the room and opened the door.

You had not expected the sight before you though. You’re husband to be in the throes of passion with not one but two women.

Shocked, you slammed the door shut again which caused the threesome to startle.

“Honey? Why are you home already? I thought you were gonna go for a drink with your friends.” he called out to you while ripping the door open again…..

“That’s your excuse to cheat on me? That I was not going to see it? WHAT THE FUCK STEVE! We wanted to get married!” you screamed at him and then threw the engagement ring towards his head.

You stormed past him into the bedroom, grabbed some clothes and necessities from your closet and stuffed them into a suitcase. He tried to reason with you, that he wanted to feel free one last time and could pass up the opportunity of a threesome. Like that was actually an excuse.

Everything he said was ignored and so 5 minutes later you sat in your car and that was when the dam broke. You wanted to cry and yell at the same time. How could you have been so stupid as to think someone as honorable and good looking as Steve Rogers was not gonna follow the temptation of so many willing women at some point? You wiped your tears away and contemplated where you could be going for the night.

After thinking for a while you had figured out that most of your friends were also Steve’s you didn’t know if they were going to take his side or yours.

Natasha was not the right idea, she would probably break into his house and kill him in his sleep if she found out he cheated on you like that. And maybe you were in the right mindset to let her do it right now. Wanda and Vision were out of town and Tony would only tell you “I told you so”. That left only one other person in the world you liked enough to see right now. Bucky Barnes. So without further notice you drove to his apartment complex and rang his doorbell at 1am with a packed suitcase in your hand.

“Yes.” you heard a groggy voice through the speakers at the entrance.

“Ehm, hi Bucky. It’s Y/N. Something happened, can I come up?” you were already close to tears again. He must have noticed so he was immediately wide awake and buzzed the door open.

You took the elevator up to the 4th floor and he was already standing in the doorway to his flat only in boxer shorts and a t-shirt.

“Hey, doll. What happened? You look worse for wear.” he looked concerned and let you inside.

“I feel awful for disturbing you in the middle of the night. But I didn’t know where else to go.” you fell into his embrace after he had opened his arms.

“It’s okay darling. Now tell me what happened please.” he inquired.

“Of course. Where do I start?” you frantically searched for words.

“Best if you start at the beginning.” he smiled encouragingly.

“Yes, sure. So tonight I wanted to go for a drink with a few girls from work but didn’t feel alright after work so I rainchecked last minute and went home. But when I stepped into our bedroom, oh Bucky it was terrible, Steve wasn’t alone. There were two naked girls in bed with him.” you had fat tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Impossible. Steve is not a cheater. You sure you saw that right?” The doubt in his voice made you angry.

“I know what I saw Buck!” you got defensive.

“Okay, I believe you. It’s just that I never saw Steve disrespecting someone like that. I’m so sorry for you doll.” he looked genuinely affected by the whole situation and he could understand how Steve could hurt you like this.

“But that’s not the worst part yet… The reason I didn’t feel great and didn’t go out with my friends is… I’m pregnant Bucky and Steve doesn’t know.” you looked downwards.

“Fuck! That is getting more and more complicated. But congratulations doll. You will be a great mom.” he hugged you close. “How about I’ll make you a cup of tea and then you try to sleep a bit.” he suggested.

“Alright. Thank you Bucky. You are my best friend.” he smiled sadly at that statement. He wished you were more than just friends. Maybe now he would have a chance somehow.

Before he could get up though his phone rang.

“It’s him Y/N. You want me to ignore him?”

“No, then he knows I’m here for sure. Tell him you haven’t seen me.”

“Okay, will do.”

“Steve? Do you know how late it is?” Bucky asked with his best impression of a just out of bed voice.

“I’m sorry pal but I need to find Y/N. I did something stupid and she left. Do you know where she is?” you could hear Steve through Bucky’s much too loud phone.

“I’m sorry Steve. I haven’t heard from her. You just woke me up.” he lied.

“Damn! I need to make this up to her. I’m so sorry. If she comes to you, could you tell her I need to speak with her, please? I love her too much to lose her.” you swallowed more tears threatening to escape.

“Sure, buddy. You wanna tell me what happened?” Bucky feigned cluelessness.

“Maybe later Buck. I have to call the rest of our friends.”

“Alright, but don’t do anything stupid.” Bucky said and Steve hung up.

“You heard him, didn’t you?” he asked you.

“Hmm.” you confirmed.

After you had drank your tea he left you the bed and slept on the couch. When you snuggled into the covers they smelled so delicously like Bucky. A mix of soap, coffee and something uniquely Bucky. For one split moment you had thought about asking him to sleep next to you but that would have probably sent mixed signals and you didn’t know what you wanted at the moment.

You woke up feeling cold. Shivering slightly you opened your eyes and noticed that the blanket had fallen off your body onto the floor. Sitting up you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and the realization of what had happened struck you a moment later.

“Chin up! You are a queen! Don’t let that idiot make you cry again. He’s not worth it!” you told yourself and got up to get some food.

“Good morning, Bucky.” you greeted him while he was standing at the stove making scrambled eggs and bacon.

“Good morning to you too. How did you sleep? And do you want some breakfast?” he asked cheerily.

“I slept like a baby and hell yes I’m so hungry.” confirming his suspicions.

Bucky and you ate together in comfortable silence. Until he spoke up: “So Y/N you know you can stay here however long you like and I don’t mind kicking Stevies ass for what he’s done to you but you should at least tell him that you are with me. I can’t lie to him forever.” he really had a point.

“I know. Thanks again for taking in a stray in the middle of the night. And I know I will have to talk to him eventually. He hurt me so bad but I’m more afraid I will give in again when I see his puppy dog eyes although I can’t trust him anymore.” you looked so lost. Bucky wanted to wrap you up in a blanket and never let you go again.

That week you called in sick. You couldn’t stand the people at work.

And when you came back on monday, guess who was standing outside our office building with a exagerrated flower buquet.

“I’m sorry babe. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You are the best thing that has happened to me. Please don’t leave me.” he begged. You had to admit seeing Captain America beg was a sight for sore eyes.

“Hello Steve. You are correct you shouldn’t have cheated on me and I am deeply disappointed in you. Thank you for apologizing but I won’t come back to you. You have broken my trust and I can’t just give it back to you. I will be over in the next few weeks to get the rest of my stuff out of your apartment and leave my keys. Now I have to go work. Bye Steve. Oh, by the way, you will have to call all our friends and family that the wedding is off. I’m not doing that.” and with those words you turned away from him and clapped yourself menatlly on the shoulder at how confident and sovereign you had handelt that situation.

If you had thought the deal was over there you had definitely celebrated to early.

Of course Steve found out you had been staying with Bucky all along and was mad as hell.

He suddeny stood inside the apartment, however he got in there, and started throwing insults at Bucky and especially you.

“Here you are you little slut! Have already replaced me, hm. How long has this been going on? You preach something of trust and here you are fucking my best friend behind my back! I should have known.” he raged.

“Calm down you idiot. There is nothing going on between Buck and me. He has just been a friend when I was hurt needed one.” you yelled back enraged at the accusations.

“Who do you wanna tell that, Y/N. Do you think I haven’t seen the way you two look at each other?” he was still so angry. You had nevern seen him this full of rage.

“So what it is none of your business anymore anyways.” you knew you couldn’t bring him to believe you anyway. He needed to find a different cause of why you wouldn’t come back to him than the simple reason that he had cheated. He wanted to blame you, not himself.

“Could you please leave now? I don’t feel so good.” you suddenly felt your lunch coming back up to greet you and ran to the bathroom.

The men heard you puking. One knowing the reason the other not.

“What’s going on with her? She sick?” Steve asked Bucky.

That was your clue to burst through the bathroom door.

“I’m pregnat you ass! You cheated on your pregnant fiance!” you yelled and stormed into Bucky’S bedroom, jamming the door shut behind you.

Steve looked aghast at Bucky “did you know?”

“She told me the night she came to me. She had wanted to tell you then. That’s why she didn’t go out with her collegues.”

“Fuck! I destroyed everything, haven’t I?” he asked Bucky in defeat.

“Give her time. She probably won’t want to marry you, maybe not even be your girlfriend again but maybe she will at least let you see your kid.” Bucky stated matter of factly.

“But I wan’t more Bucky. I want her.” he whined.

“Well, you had everything, pal. But you destroyed it. I better go talk to her. You should really leave her alone for a while.” he clapped Steve on the shoulder, maybe a bit harder than necessary and went after you.

“Y/N? He’s gone.” Bucky carefully stuck his head into the room. You were lying on the bed, on your back staring at the ceiling.

“Good.” you muttered. “I couldn’t stand him anymore. I’m afraid Bucky.” you confessed. “I can’t raise a baby on my own and I don’t know if I want Steve involved.”

“I can understand your worry but I don’t see any reason. You are so caring and selfless you will be a great mom. And if you let me I can help you. Kids seem to like me apparently.” he encouraged you and smiled.

“Thank you, Buck. I definitely will need your help. I am going to be a single mom and that’s completely okay.” you smiled at him.

“That’s what I wanna hear. Now, you hungry after everything just came out?”

“Yes. I’d like Pizza please.”

“Alright, princess I will order some.” he stroked your cheek and got up to get the delivery running.

“So he actually cheated on you? I would have never expected that from Steve. He always seems like a gentleman. Unbelievable.” Wanda exclaimed.

“Yeah. Absolutely insane. But congrats on the pregnancy though. You will be a rockin’ mama.” Nat hugged you. “And we will help you with whatever you need.”

“Thanks, girls. You are amazing. You know I want you to be godmothers, right?” you asked.

“Hell yes. We’re in.” Nat squealed and you never heard her squeal.

Weeks ticked by and you really searched for an affordable apartment somewhere close to your workplace. That was harder than you anticipated though.

After 3 months of moving in with Bucky you had still no place of your own and you constantly thought you were overstaying your welcome.

“How are you two doing today?” Bucky asked you as he came home.

“We are fine. Had a lot to eat and listened to some music. By the way my OB was able to find out what we are having. You wanna know?” over the past months Bucky had become more a father to the baby than Steve had been. Steve rarely called or wanted to now anything about you or his baby. Bucky seemed more than content to take up the role of its father.

“Hell yes I wanna know. Tell me!” he ordered exited.

“Alright, drumroll…. It’s a…. girl.” you announced.

“Oh, wow. Great. A mini you not a mini Steve.” he laughed and you had to laugh too.

“Buck?” you asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“I want you to be in this girls life. As more than just her mommys friend. More as a rolemodel. A…” you stopped to think about your next words carfully. “More like a dad.” and out it was. Now you only had to wait for his reaction.

“You want me to be her father? Hmm. On the one hand I would love to. I feel so close to her already but on the other hand I don’t want to affront Steve. Even after everything he is my friend. Can we talk about what there is between us first? Maybe if we have that settled all will slip in place.” he suggested.

“Maybe you are right. What is there between us in your opinion?”

“Look Y/N, I have always felt a connection between us. Although I would have never acted on it because you were Steve’s girl, it hurt everytime I saw you with him. And when you got engaged I seriously considered moving abroad so I wouldn’t have to see you building a life with him. If I could imagine myself as the man by your and your daughters side? Of course. There is nowhere I’d rather be. And we are practically living together already anyway.” his confession only superficially shocked you. You knew there had always been feelings from your side too. That’s why it had been so easy to confide in him. He took your silence as hesitation and became insecure “I mean if you don’t feel that way I will accept that. I swear I can be just a frien….” he wasn’t able to say more because you had already stopped his rambling with a bruising kiss.

“So you do feel it!” he observed.

“Of course I do you dummy. You have always been there for me. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it was actually you who I should be with.” you apologized.

“The most important thing is that we have that figured out now.” he kissed you again and you melted into it.

“Yes, we do.” you smiled.

Another few months flew by and you had started to stay at home because you were constantly feeling dizzy or nauteous when you moved.

“Bucky come here. Now!” you yelled for your boyfriend one snowy december morning. Alarmed he stormed into the livingroon where you were parked in front of a movie with a cup of hot chocolate and a really big blanket over one of Bucky’s hoodies.

“What’s wrong? You okay?” panicked he jumped onto the couch next to you. “No nothing is wrong. Here- Give me your hand.” he gave you his right hand and you pressed it to the place on your belly were you had just felt her kick. When she did it again he almost jumped out of his skin. “Woah, what was that? Was that a kick?” he asked astonished.

“Of course Buck. What else was it supposed to be?” you laughed.

“She is strong. Damn so cool.”

“And she keeps kicking even more when she hears your voice. Maybe she likes it if you sang to her.” you smiled expectantly.

“Oh, no. No one wants to hear me sing. I have a terrible voice.” he refused.

“Steve told me differently. He said you were in church choir together as boys.” your smirked at him.

“He told you that.” he sighed.

“Oh, yes he did. So come on. Sing something for our daughter.”

“Our daughter?” he asked, you realized what you had said and blushed.

“I like the sound of that.” he grinned from ear to ear and that was the moment you were 100% sure that he was it for you.

“I love you so much.” he whispered and kissed first your protruding belly and then your mouth.

You were speechless. “I love you too Bucky.” you replied.

Your daughter grew everyday. Everytime you went to an ultrasound at your OB Bucky was by your side and although the doctor knew he wasn’t the babys biological dad she said that he was doing so much better than most fathers to be. He took so much pride in your baby girl that you almost burst with love for him.

After 9 months of carrying her it was finally time to let go. When the contractions started Bucky rushed you to a hospital and although he didn’t want to he called Steve. And Nat and Wanda of course.

The doctor and midwife did their exam of you and the baby quickly before figuring out that something was wrong.

“She is lying sideways. We can’t deliver her naturally. We need to get her by c-section or you will both die.” the OB made clear. You knew things like that could happen. You had mentally prepared for anything but now that it actually came to that you were more than afraid.

“Wo should stay with you? Only one person can.” the doctor informed you.

Steve, who had just entered the room and had heard everything of course assumed immediately that he was gonna be invited into the OR with you.

“I want Bucky to stay with me.” you whined. Steve got pretty angry and almost ripped the door off its hinges when he left. “Bucky I’m afraid.” you whispered to him. Uncaring of Steves abrupt departure.

“I will stay with you, doll. Through everything. You two will get through this.” he encouraged you.

“Thanks Buck. Let’s get this baby into the world.” you said.

“Good attitude.” the doctor approved.

They rushed you into the OR. Bucky never leaving you and holding your hand the whole time. During the procedure itself you were awake but you got a spinal anesthesia to numb everthing from your belly downwards.

“I will keep a pretty ugly scar Buck. Don’t you mind that?” you asked him a little drunk on meds.

“No sweetheart. I love you so much I don’t care about scars. You don’t care about mine either, do you? Scars are just proof of what you have gone through and survived. That’s what you always used to say. Isn’t it?” he quoted you.

“Yes maybe.”

“Plus it will always remind of our beautiful daughter. That’ll be worth it, don’t you think?” he asked.

“Yes, sure. I love you Buck.”

“I love you too and you are doing so great. Isn’t she doc?” he asked the OB.

“Oh, she’s doing great. Everything is perfect.” she answered but by the nervous facial expression she had on her face and the rushing nurses surrounding her Bucky knew that something was wrong.

Suddenly a baby cried. Relief flooded through Bucky. “Look there she is.” he pointed to your right and you rolled your head over and smiled. Then you passed out.

“Y/N? Y/N!!!” Bucky yelled. “What happened?” he asked the doc full of panic.

“She lost a lot of blood but we are giving her donations now. Go see your daughter and we will do everything we can to save her.” she explained to him. But Bucky would not be Bucky if he left your side.

They sewed you up and 3 hours later you awoke in a brightly lit room. Beeping machines by your head. You looked around, complketely confused until you saw the cutes thing you had ever laid eyes on. Your angel of a boyfriend was sitting next to your bed in an armchair, holding your baby daughter to his chest and singing softly to her.

You started weeping immediately. Still high on drugs and hormones.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked worried.

“No, I am just so happy. You two really are a sight for sore eyes. I can’t contain the love in my heart.” you kept crying happy tears.

“Would you give me our baby?” you asked politely.

“Oh, of course honey.” he got up and placed the blanket wrapped burrito into your arms. When you saw her crystal blue eyes and slightly dirty blonde hair you had to hold back new tears.

“What should we call her?” Bucky asked you.

“I always loved Autumn as a girls name or maybe Freya. What do you like better?”

“I love them both. Double name? Or keep one for the next baby?” he suggested.

“You are already thinking about a second child?” you laughed. “Give me a bit of time to recover and then I would love to have another one with you.”

“Sure so Autumn or Freya?” he asked again.

“Let’s go with Freya. It’s such a unique name. And strong as hell. I think it suits her.” you chose.

“Great. I love it. And I love both of you.”

“Has anyone been in here yet?” you asked him.

“Not yet. I wanted you to see your daughter first before the others came barging in. Steve nearly broke down the door when I refused him to come inside. I handled him and security told him if he didn’t calm down he needed to leave and he wouldn’t be allowed back inside.” he broke down the events of the past few hours for you.

“That sounds so not like the Steve I know but seems like that is who he became. I think if you hand me a glass of water for my parched throat first you can let the others inside.” you instructed him.

After downing the entire bottle of liquid the whole party came trampling into the room. Steve pushed the rest rudely out of the way. But instead of asking how you were doing after losing so much blood he just grabbed your daughter out of your hands to look at her. It didn’t take 3 seconds before the infant was crying like crazy. Steve startled and immediately handed her back to you. “Why is she always crying? She’s definitely yours.” he commented. Bucky gotreally angry at that comment while you tried to calm your baby.

“I think you should go, pal. You are irritating her with your attitude.” Bucky suggested nicely.

“Who do you think you are? You are not her father. I am.” he turned beet red.

You finally had enough. Handing Freya over to Nat who took a step back, you sat up a little and faced Steve. “In the past 9 months Bucky has been more a father to her than you could ever be. He was there when I hung puking over the toilet bowl. He brought me the strangest snacks without asking twice about it. He always had the nicest words to say to me no matter how depressed I felt. And where the fucking hell were you that whole time?” you asked him angrily.

That made him stop still. “You left me!” he tried to defend himself weakly.

“GET OUT!” you yelled at him.

He obeyed because he knew he couldn’t say anything to make the situation better.

“Wow, that was intense.” Wanda commented.

“He needed to hear that.” you said.

“Yes, he did. And now to you and your daughter. She is adorable. What’s her name?” Nat changed the topic.

“Thank you Nat. Her name is Freya. I have always loved that name.” you answered.

“That’s a beautiful, strong name. Fitting!” Wanda commented.

“So when will you be able to get out of here?” Nat asked, still holding your baby.

“I don’t know. Haven’t spoken to a doctor yet.”

As if on cue the door opened and your OB entered.

She told you that everything was healing and that you needed to stay for another day and then you and your baby could go home.

Three weeks later you had already accustomed Freya to her crib. You went on walks everyday. Bucky always by your side. Protecting you both like a wolf protects his pack.

Six months ticked by like nothing. Suddenly Freya was already playing with her mobile which was hanging over her bed. She was very attentive. Crawling all over the apartment fast enough that you almost couldn’t catch up.

It was fulfilling to be a mom but also tiring. You needed a day off so as the nice godmothers that your friends were they took her from you for 24 hours. At first you slept in. You would have happily stayed in bed all day but Bucky had other plans.

So you took a shower and put on a nice dress but you forwent the high heels cause you still had swollen feet sometimes and couldn’t walk in them anyways.

“Where are we going Buck?” you smiled.

“You will see, doll.” was his cryptic answer.

He drove out of town until you reached the hills. Parking the car somewhere in the middle of nowhere you got out of the car and he pulled a picnic basket out of the trunk.

“A picnic? That’s so sweet.” you swooned.

“I thought that would be nice.” He seemed somehow really nervous.

When you had found a clearing he put everything down and you two sat and ate. Sandwiches, fruit, cheese, crackers, chocolate covered strawberries. Everything was so delicious. “Thank you for this Bucky. It’s the best date I have ever had.” you complimented.

“It is wonderful. And I would like to ask you something.” he turned so he was kneeling in front of you and pulled a box out of his jacket pocket. You clapped your hand in front of your mouth and tears sprang to your eyes.

“Y/N I have loved you for so long. We have a great life together, a wonderful daughter. I would like this to hold forever. Will you marry me?” he asked.

You threw yourself into his arms and he crumbled underneath you “YES! Of course I will marry you Bucky. I love you so much!” you confirmed.

He put the ring onto your finger and you kissed deeply. The kiss turned heated quickly. You, still lying on top of him, wriggled your hips. He turned you on so much you wanted him right that moment.

“Woa, hold on doll. You sure you want to do this here?” he mumbled against your lips.

“Don’t wanna wait any more. Waited too long.” you mumbled back.

His hands immediately went to the zipper on your back and pulled it down. You sat up so you could wriggle your arms free and pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your panties and bra. “So beautiful.” he groaned and buried his face in your boobs, nipping and sucking hickies only he would be able to see later.

All the while you frantically ripped at his clothes, pushing the jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoning his shirt. Then you roamed your hands over his muscular chest intensely. Grinding down on his growing erection got you so wet. You hadn’t gotten any action in over a year and you knew he hadn’t either so this was likely going to be over way too soon. You had to savor any moment that it would last.

With his help you got him out of his jeans and you saw that he was not wearing any underwear. “Naughty boy. No underwear?” you commented, smirking.

“More comfy that way. Why don’t you make it even more comfortable and sit on my dick, doll?”

“With pleasure.” you moaned and sank down on his massive cock. “Fuck!” you groaned at the slight discomfort. You felt like an inexperienced virgin again. “Shit. Don’t stop.” he moaned lustfully.

You rocked your hips sensually and he met you with every thrust.

He hit all the amazing spots deep inside you and you felt your high approaching way too fast. “‘m so close, baby.” you moaned with your eyes closed. Just lost in the pleasure of every stroke inside you.

“Me too. Wanna come together. Open your eyes, darling.” he panted.

So you did as he had asked and when your eyes met his baby blues you lost it and came all over him. That in turn triggered his orgasm and he spilled inside you.

Breathing heavily you slid off of him and cuddled into his side while he pulled a blanket over you.

“That was so great.” he said.

“Hmm, and you know what? I’m still not on birth control again. Maybe… we’ll soon have a mini you running around.” you smirked.

“I would like that very much. Life is always better with a sibling.” he kissed your head.

Well and what can I say- 9 months later you gave birth to a healthy, dark haired baby boy which you named Ben. Your family became the most important thing in the world. You didn’t even want to think about a scenario where you hadn’t found out that Steve cheated on you. You were the happiest when you were with Bucky. That’s where you belonged.

[dainty-fingertips]

a forever thing. ||kars x fem! reader

wrote this one a few weeks ago bc a friend said i should write something with kars,, ended up being too long and i don’t think she ever finished reading it;; also, spoilers for if you haven’t finished battle tendency !!

word count: 2233

summary: training alongside caesar and joseph, you end up being kidnapped by the remaining two pillar men after the death of esidisi. a closet bookworm, you end up spending most of your time cooped up in the library of the rundown hotel, though most of your time is spent thinking of the leader himself. after kars drops some undeniable hints, you decide to test the waters.

trigger warnings: none :)

||

          Being taken for a sort of ransom by aztec gods wasn’t exactly on the agenda today. 

          After Joseph had killed Esidisi, the remaining two were -- as expected -- on edge. Wamuu, the youngest, and Kars, the eldest. You could grasp a fleeting understanding on why they chose you specifically, but nothing enough to make complete sense in your brain. It could have been Caesar, it could have been Lisa Lisa, but no. As of now, they were treating you quite well, actually. You figured Wamuu was the only reason you weren’t bound by rope and eating out of a dog bowl right now. Instead, you were perched upon a plush reading chair in a rundown library, clad in a comfortable robe (thanks to Wamuu, you weren’t stuck in your sweaty outfit from before). You had planned on touring to Switzerland one day after the war, but being trapped inside a rundown hotel with no real access to vitamin D was really taxing your health (mentally and physically) and never intended to be something you spent your time doing while here.

          In your rough-skinned hands, you held a worn copy of In Search of Lost Time. Your reading comprehension had improved over the past few weeks, at least. A rough knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m here.” You said calmly, hoping it was the younger Pillar Man. Of course your desires were not met. Kars stepped into the library, his headscarf absorbing some of the light from the candle lit on the table next to you. He eyed you in what appeared to be mild distaste. “Why are you awake?” You looked up from the book with an odd expression. “What do you mean?” You asked him. The god huffed softly, motioning to the boards on the windows. “The sun has gone down. Are you not tired?” You pulled your gaze over to the covered windows. “...Oh.”

          You had failed to notice the absence of flittering rays much earlier. “Wait, what time is it?” You mumbled to yourself. You looked at the grandfather clock on the wall to your right and your expression dropped. “It’s 1 am.” he mumbled, crossing his arms. You pursed your lips and quietly closed the book. You uncrossed your legs and set it back on the shelf. Kars watched you slowly make your way back and forth. “What about you?” You asked, wrapping your fingers around the candle tray. He stared at you. Were you asking why he was up? “What do you mean?” He asked with a sigh. “You’re still up, but you aren’t tired.” You stated while approaching him. He didn’t move. “I’ve told you this. Neither me nor Wamuu need sleep, human. Es-” He stopped himself mid sentence and his cold expression seemed to falter for only a moment. You had learned, in your three weeks here, that the pillar men deemed it inappropriate to show emotion to anyone other than family members or mates. 

          Kars had never slipped up around you before. 

          The gears in your brain began turning. Kars wouldn’t show something like that to Wammu even, at least that’s what you’d been told. Why, even if for a split second, would he let you see that? Did he see you as someone close? The mere idea was laughable. Kars’ cold exterior soon returned, though. Simply brushing aside the sight, you continued to listen to him. “Esidisi didn’t need sleep, either.” He continued, his voice almost strained. Was Kars trying to hide his pain? You looked at him with soft eyes. Kars seemed to get minorly flustered and removed his gaze from you.

          You sighed gently and gazed cautiously into his blooming red eyes, the simple sight of them making your stomach twirl a bit. He made you feel floaty when he looked at you. Your cheeks flushed and you looked away. You saw in your hazy peripheral that he had furrowed an eyebrow. “What?” He asked hesitantly, looking back at you. “Hm?” You couldn’t look back at him. “I was just wondering about something, that’s all.” You begged that the bluff worked on him, but you knew that Kars was smart. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, his eyes flickering across your face and body, looking for a hint of something in your body language. 

          He sighed and motioned for you to follow him. You stood there and glanced at him curiously, his back turned and footsteps echoing. He turned his head to look at you. “I’m taking you to your chambers. Come.” He said with a bored expression. “O-Oh, right.” You whispered. You jogged up to him, but slowed your pace once you were next to him. “What was it?” He asked. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him without moving your head. “What?” He sighed through his nose. “You said you were wondering about something.” Your mouth opened to the shape of an O. “Right. I was just curious, uh, Kars. Do you think you could sleep if you tried?” You queered hesitantly, avoiding your original thought of Kars’ sadness. You looked back ahead of you. Kars gazed to his right, thinking. “An odd question, human. Why do you ask?” You shrugged slightly. “I dunno. Curiosity, I guess.” Kars aired out a small ‘hm.’ and inhaled sharply.

          “Curiosity is a dangerous fault in humans. No matter how long I sleep, that will forever remain a constant.” You cocked your head to the side a bit, working up the courage to turn to him as you both walked. “What do you mean?” He looked down at you, a strand of his hair tufting out slightly. “It’s what got that damned Joestar wrapped into this mess. If not for him, we wouldn’t need to deal with this. Our mission would be far less… complicated.” You nodded your head. “And that’s been a forever-thing?” He squinted his eyes. “A what?” 

          “Well, that’s what my dad used to call it.” You said with a gentle chuckle. “Y’know, a forever-thing. Something that’s been around for forever. Literally and figuratively.” 

          “A forever-thing?” He pressed.

          “Mhm.”

          “Humans and their idiotic names for simple terms.” he spat.

          “Oh really?”

           He scoffed. “Yes.”

          “Then what would you call it?” You joked, putting a playfully heavy emphasis on your words. Kars groaned, but deep inside his old bones, he felt something. He could admire beauty when he saw it, especially for a human, but this was getting out of hand. You were completely oblivious to the fact that Kars had taken an especial liking to you, which he was grateful for. His cold demeanor felt almost immoral around you. You were similar to that Joestar boy, but you were somehow more tangible. He could… stand you, sure, but he didn’t know why. He had been surrounded by nothing but cold glares and serious attitudes his whole life, and he magnified it in the way he lived. It’s what earned him the highest rank in what now remained of the tribes, being merely him and Wamuu. 

          Though, having you around was a strangely acceptable change of tone. He began finding himself seeking out your attention, like 10 minutes ago. You weren’t in your bed, so he came looking for you where you normally sat; the library. You were propped in that chair, now claimed as yours, with your knees to your chest and a book in your hands. You seemed almost magnetizing, you seemed almost… well, he wasn’t sure. He’d never felt this way. Why did you grab his attention? You held him in your fingers like putty, rubbing him in all the right ways. Maybe, because of you, his opinion on the human species wouldn’t be so dire. Maybe, in your toothy grins, your glittering eyes, and your gentle hands,  you would change his mind. 

          Only then, did he realize you had taken his hand in yours.

          He quickly pulled it away. “Don’t touch me.” He spat, eyeing you. You chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, force of habit. Whenever my dad was deep in thought, I’d grab his hand to pull him back to Earth.” Kars scoffed, rubbing his hand as though trying to get the feeling of your rough hands off of him. They were hard and calloused from training, he presumed, though it added to his simple adoration. He had never met a woman like this. His eyes lingered back to your hands for a moment before looking back ahead. “Well, I’m not your father.” You simply smiled ahead and didn’t respond.

          Kars let his hands fall to his sides and the two of you make it up the set of stairs to your room. The door sat closed, and you looked at Kars. “Would you mind, Kars, if I told you something?” You questioned casually, entering your room and looking at him from the inside. He nodded once and silently asked you to continue. Your face grew warm and you looked to the side, unable to look at him for a moment. “You…” You began, unsure how to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. “I what?” He said. You knew he was an impatient man when it came to things like this; you had heard it from Wamuu whenever he’d bring you food. “Spit it out.” You sighed and looked at him, your gaze wavering and nervous. “You aren’t half bad, Kars.” You said with an awkward tone of voice. You knew you were treading on thin ice, but you didn’t know when you’d actually be able to tell him alone.

          Kars’ stance was unmoved. The meaning behind your words didn’t fully strike him until after the two of you silently stared at each other for 20 seconds. His face, twisted in mild confusion, soon loosened up. Realization clubbed him like a wooden baseball bat behind his knees. His maroon eyes darted across your face and his lips parted slightly. “What -- What are you saying?” He said quietly. He was sure his brain was playing tricks, but your face, it seemed so fearfully genuine. Sweat accumulated on the back of his neck in his headscarf. Kars was a god; the most powerful pillar man. He was above this. Why did… Why did it feel wrong to act that way around you? Why did he feel almost guilty when he acted superior?

          You stood motionless. “I mean, y’know. I enjoy… your… your company.” You stumbled over her words. Were you being intimate with him? He’d never seen this side of you. You noticed Kars slipping up on his own standards again, as well. His surprised emotions were clear as day, etched cleanly into his chiseled features. His fangs poked out onto his lower lip, a simple protrusion which you had wished you didn't find cute. You genuinely thought that Kars was attractive.

          Then again, who wouldn’t? He stood tall, around 6’8”. He towered over most all he came in contact with, but that was simply second nature to you now. You were used to craning your neck to get a better look at those blood-red eyes that almost seemed to despise you. A dark loft of his hair would make its cameo every now and again. He’d always get flustered whenever you’d mention it, telling you that he didn’t need the approval of a human. He’d then, a minute or so later, slyly tuck it back in. It’s not that he didn’t know, of course; it’s just that he only cared enough about it if you took the time to tell him.

          Wamuu had noticed his growing infatuation with you and the thought brought him a smile. After sitting down with Kars and listening to him do nothing but wax poetic about you earlier tonight, he told him to go find you. Maybe take a walk with you, if he felt like it. Kars kindly took up the offer; it seemed you had humbled him in that department, too. Normally he wouldn’t bother taking anyone’s advice, but here he was. Pulling him from the crevasse of his rushing brain was your hand, humbly wrapping your fingers around his.

          Kars stared at his hands, fingers being separated by your own, in blatant shock. “You aren’t as bad as I thought you’d be.” You whispered, barely audible to him. He locked eyes with you and without thinking, going against everything he’d ever stood for in the past, he curled his fingers around yours as well. You smiled softly and looked down, avoiding his gaze. Kars’ lips pulled back together, his lips twitching, desperately wanting to smile. “I suppose.” He said hesitantly. “Why are you being nice to me?” He soon asked, turning his gaze back to your face.

          He pulled his hand away, taking a step back. “I…” You murmured, retracting your hand as well. He looked between his fingers as though he’d touched gold, small glittering remnants still freckled along his palm. “I don’t know.” you finished with a heavy sigh. He closed his hand into a fist and looked at you with nervous confidence. “Well, if there’s nothing more, then I will take my leave.” He said quickly, nearly stuttering his words. He turned on his heel and began going the way he came. You gazed at his back as he swiftly left the hallway and sighed in disbelief. You had just grabbed his hand.

          Kars, it seemed, had fallen in love with the enemy.

          The enemy, it seemed, had felt exactly the same.

[gamerwoo]

Seventeen: Welcome to Caratland (End)

Characters: Seventeen x reader (gender neutral)

Genre/warnings: horror/halloween au, choose your own adventure au, horror au, angst, murder, major character death, 

Summary: The night before Halloween, you and your 13 friends decide to go explore the infamous abandoned amusement park: Caratland, where it’s rumored that rides start on their own, empty mascot suits are seen walking around, and people don’t return the same as when they left. Can you and your friends survive the night in Caratland?

a/n: realizing halloween is coming up, i’ve decided to FINALLY finish the au i did last halloween. for those who kept up with it: i’m sorry for discontinuing it. there was hardly any interaction with it so i just lost interest and motivation. and the lack of interaction is why i decided to just put all the choices in this part so you can see all the endings and whatnot. i’m sorry it took so long to wrap things up and there will probably be mistakes so i’m sorry about that, but i hope you all still enjoy it. ALSO LMK WHICH PATH/ENDING YOU GET FIRST TIME AROUND!!!

Tag list: @sadienita @xummie @mingoats @xxbluestrifexx @kwanseo @junhaoshua @allegxdly​ 

Previous | Caratland Masterlist

[NOTE: there will probably be mix-ups with paths and endings because i literally just did all of this in 3 days and posted without anyone proof reading it. i will go through everything later to fix and edit things, so please be patient with me!!!]

»»————-　　————-««

16 -- A

“It’s probably best to go back to the breach, right?” you decided. “We know it’s there so it’s the best way to get back.”

“_____ has a point,” Wonwoo shrugged.

“Alright, everyone head back to the hole -- and don’t get split up,” Seungcheol stated before deciding to take the lead.

“Okay, but if I see one of those glorified Chuck E. Cheese mascots coming toward us, I’m leaving all of you behind,” Seungkwan muttered as he followed with the group.

All of you were glancing around trying to keep an eye out for the animatronics, while also trying to quickly and quietly make your way back to the way you’d gotten into the park. You kept mentally kicking yourself for convincing your friends to come here. If it wasn’t for you, you wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. You were just lucky everyone was still here...

The gates were starting to come into view, and you felt relief begin to course through you. Your legs were starting to move faster on their own, just wanting to get out of this living nightmare.

Seungcheol shooting his arms out to stop the group was what had you skid to a stop. He whispered loudly for everyone to get down behind the nearby shrubs and two trash bins. The fourteen of you poked your heads around to see what had gotten him to act like this, and your heart sank at what you saw

Serenity was blocking the hole in the fence.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan hissed.

“We’re gonna die here...” Seokmin whispered, but Wonwoo was quick to comfort him.

“What’s the plan now?” Hansol wondered.

“I know it’ll risk us going to jail or something,” Jihoon began, “but I think it’s time we just cave and call someone.”

“No, I’m not going back there!” Seungkwan whispered intensely.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“I’d rather get arrested than get murdered,” Mingyu insisted. “At least we know we’ll be safe and alive in jail.”

You made a face, “Will we, though?”

“Listen,” Hansol interrupted as he pulled out his phone, “I’ll just call my parents -- they’re really chill. And worse case scenario, they just lecture us.”

But as he went to make the call, all his phone did was beep at him like the line was busy. He took the phone away from his ear and looked down, furrowing his eyebrows.

“We had service all night, right?” he asked.

“Yeah...?” Joshua replied.

“Well now I don’t for some reason,” he said, turning his phone screen to show his friends.

Mingyu’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding.”

Then everyone, including you, were taking out their phones and checking for service. Just like Hansol, you had no bars.

Unfortunately, everyone else was in the same boat.

Now, Seokmin was on the verge of tears, “We’re going to die here!”

“Don’t get hysterical yet,” Minghao told him. “There’s gotta be a way out of this. Even if we have to wait around until morning, we can probably out-run these hunks of metal.”

“Y’know, I heard a friend of a friend snuck in here once,” Soonyoung began. “Some dude Changkyun knows. He said there’s apparently some sort of underground exit under the food court.”

“At this point, we’ll have to try anything,” Wonwoo sighed.

“So back to the food court?” Seungcheol practically whined.

You took a deep breath, “Unfortunately, yeah.”

[GO TO: 17 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

16 -- B

“Does anyone even remember where the hole in the fence is?” you asked.

Everyone either gave you blank stares or shook their heads. You let out a sigh.

“Alternate way it is,” Minghao shrugged.

“Let’s just hang here until someone thinks of something,” Seungcheol suggested. “We’re all here, and I think those things are still hanging around wherever we were before. It’ll take a while before we see them again.”

So the fourteen of you hung out at the merry-go-round. Most of you leaned up against the horses or found yourselves sitting down on them. A few of you sat on the two steps of the platform. Chan and Wonwoo were sitting in one of the carriages that most families or parents sat in. All of you were scrolling on your phones or looking at someone else’s phone, trying to research anything about Caratland that might help you find a way out. Maybe a map or a blueprint or something might come up. 

Suddenly, the ride jerked. You almost fell over onto Junhui as the ride began turning slowly, the music trying to play but the wiring was too old and worn that it just sounded demonic at best.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Jihoon scoffed. “Who turned on the ride?”

The question was overlooked by Mingyu’s shriek. Every head who was on his side of the merry-go-round whipped over to see Bongbong sitting on a horse only a few rows away from the tall boy. But another scream from Seungkwan was what brought attention to the answer to Jihoon’s question.

Eight was standing at the controls of the ride, his never-changing smile on his face as he slowly waved.

“Run!” Joshua called, leaping off of the horse he was sitting sideways on.

“Run where?” Seokmin called as he scrambled to get off the ride and jump the short fence.

“Food court!” Soonyoung shouted as he pumped his legs as fast as they would go. “It’s a long shot...but I have an idea!”

“I’d rather know the idea first!” Jeonghan called after him as the group ran together away from the merry-go-round.

“One of Changkyun’s friends apparently broke in before!” he tried to explain between breaths. “He said there’s an underground exit there! Who knows if it’s legit, but...”

But it was the only plan they had.

[GO TO: 17 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

17 -- A

All of you had to squeeze through the tiny basement windows to get back in after finding the doors to be locked once again.

“How’d those fuckers get out in the first place?” Jeonghan huffed as he landed on the concrete floor of the basement. “The doors have been locked this entire time.”

“We’re being chased by animatronics that haven’t been functioning for years, and they’re out to kill us for some reason, and that’s what you’re going to question?” Soonyoung pointed out.

“Can we focus, please?” Seungcheol whined. “The sooner we find this secret eit, the sooner we’re free.”

“Everyone start searching,” Hansol said, waiving for everyone to scour the basement.

All of you searched every inch you could. The floor, the walls, shelves, behind old cupboards and props -- but there was nothing.

“What if it’s not here?” Chan suggested.

“Yeah? And where else would an underground exit be other than in the basement?” Jeonghan shot back.

The youngest frowned and rolled his eyes, “Soonyoung just said it was underground, he didn’t say under what part of the food court.”

“I mean...Jeonghan has a point,” Seokmin admitted hesitantly. “The basement is underground.”

[TO GO UPSTAIRS TO THE FOOD COURT GO TO: 18 -- A]

[TO CONTINUE SEARCHING THE BASEMENT GO TO: 18 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

18 -- A

“It can’t hurt to check somewhere else,” you spoke up, moving to stand beside Chan. “We’re looked everywhere down here. What if it’s not in the basement? There could be some secret tunnel under a different location and we’re just going to be here wasting our time.”

“I mean...yeah, that makes sense,” Jihoon decided with a shrug. “Alright, we’ll try back upstairs.”

“I don’t wanna go back up there...” Seokmin whined, clinging to the nearest person -- it happened to be Junhui.

“We’re all going,” you reassured him with a soft smile. “Let’s go. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You led the way up the stairs this time, but you found yourself going slow. You strained your ears for any noise on the other side of the basement door but the food court seemed to be quiet. Maybe the animatronics couldn’t get back in since the doors were locked.

You pushed the door open cautiously, poking your head out to glance around. It seemed empty, so you opened the door wider and let everyone else out.

“Is that e--”

SLAM!

All of you jumped back and turned around hearing the basement door slam shut behind the last person out. 

“Fuck this, I want out,” Mingyu stated, shaking his head as he began to quickly walk away from the door.

“Hold up,” Wonwoo reached out and grabbed Mingyu’s wrist to keep him with the group. “We should stick together.”

“It probably just closed from the weight of the door anyway,” Minghao figured before going to pull on the door handle.

It didn’t budge.

“Move out of the way, toothpick,” Seungcheol smoothly pushed Minghao out of the way before trying the door himself.

Still nothing.

“D-did it...lock?” Chan asked slowly.

“Haha, would you look at that?” Seungkwan said, checking his wrist that very clearly didn’t have a watch on it. “I actually have to get the fuck out of here. Bye!”

“Maaaaybe,” Hansol grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him back, “don’t do that.”

“Yeah, nobody goes running off, got it?” Jihoon checked, shining his light at everyone to make sure they agreed to the new rule. “Shit’s too weird to be splitting up.”

“I think our best bet would be to hide in the security room until morning,” you spoke up. “It’s probably the safest place in here.”

“_____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “Let’s go -- and stick together.”

As a group, all of you made your way to the security room, with you, Jihoon, and Soonyoung leading the way. All of you had your lights, shining them around to make sure the entire area was safe until you made it to the security room and barricaded the door closed.

“Jesus Christ, I hated that,” Mingyu panted as if he had been holding his breath the entire time you were walking.

“I think I almost shit myself,” Soonyoung admitted.

“Imagine your last words being ‘I think I almost shit myself’,” Junhui snorted.

“Hang on, shut the fuck up,” Seungcheol snapped, holding a hand up as he quickly scanned the group in the room. He was trying to count heads while all of you were talking, and as he quickly recounted, his blood turned to ice. “Why are we one short?”

“One short?” Jeonghan asked.

“Someone’s missing,” he said urgently.

“Alright, let’s run attendance real quick,” Jihoon decided, trying to stay level-headed. He pulled out his phone and went to the group chat. “Obviously I’m here. Soonyoung?”

“Here.”

“Seungcheol?”

“Here.”

“Mingyu?”

“Unfortunately here.”

“Hansol?”

“Yup.”

“_____?”

“Here.”

“Joshua?”

Silence.

Jihoon looked up from his phone, repeating, “Josh?”

You and your friends looked around, trying to find Joshua’s face in the crowded room. But nobody spoke up, and the silence following Joshua’s name became deafening.

“Oh fuck...” you breathed, trying to not completely lose your shit. “Did we really lose Josh?”

“We have to go back for him,” Jeonghan insisted.

“What? No!” Seungkwan shouted. “That’s suicide!”

Then everyone was bickering. While everyone of course wanted to hope Joshua was safe, half of the group felt that going back out to look for him would mean all of them would get killed. The other half, on the other hand, were willing to risk their lives to go on a rescue mission.

[TO GO OUT LOOKING FOR JOSHUA GO TO: 19 -- A]

[TO STAY IN THE SECURITY ROOM GO TO: 19 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

18 -- B

“I mean...how would it be under anywhere else?” you asked slowly with a shrug. “No offense, Chan. But like, this is kind of the only basement in the place.”

“See?” Jeonghan sneered.

Chan just frowned and rolled his eyes.

“There’s gotta be something we missed,” Soonyoung said, trying to stay calm. “Let’s just sweep the place over again.”

But after more looking, you still came up with nothing.

“At this point, I’m about to just dig through the boxes of old animatronic parts and just hope there’s a portal at the bottom or something,” Joshua sighed, slumped against a wall with Jeonghan beside him.

“Good luck,” Jeonghan scoffed. “I already tried picking one up to move them away from the wall but they’re super fucking heavy. It’s literally impossible.”

You turned your head to look at the large stack of boxes. There were piles of various sizes, but the ones at the back pressed up against the wall went up the highest. It was a long shot, but behind the boxes was the only place nobody checked because it couldn’t be reached. But with everyone giving up hope, it didn’t hurt to try, right?

“Hey, Gyu,” you spoke up before pointing to the boxes. “Think you can move those?”

Mingyu shrugged, “Yeah, probably.”

He walked over to the wall and began lifting boxes one-by-one. He grunted as he picked them up and moved them away until he called everyone over.

“There’s metal behind here!” he called over his shoulder.

“Ooh, is it the door?” Soonyoung asked excitedly, pushing himself off the floor.

“Told you it was better to look down here,” Jeonghan said once more.

Jihoon groaned, “Can you let it go? Leave Chan alone already.”

Seungcheol started assisting in the box-moving until the metal door was accessible. Seungcheol tried to push it open, but it didn’t budge. He tried harder, but still nothing.

“Can I try?” Mingyu asked.

Seungcheol stepped out of the way, gesturing for the tallest to give it a shot.

Mingyu threw his shoulder into the door a few times before it finally swung open, leading to a narrow corridor that looked like it would bring you straight to Hell.

“Okay,” Soonyoung breathed out, “let’s see if this is the way to freedom.”

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

19 -- A

“Why is this an argument?!” you shouted over the bickering. “Our friend could be dead! I don’t care if nobody comes with me, but I’m going to find Josh.”

“I’ll go,” Jeonghan stated.

“Me too,” Hansol volunteered with a slight raise of his hand.

“Plus, I highly doubt an animatronic got him,” Minghao scoffed as he went to join your group as you went to open the door.

“Well...good luck with that,” Seungkwan nodded.

In the end, it was you leading the way, with Jeonghan, Hansol, Minghao, Seokmin, and Seungcheol tagging along -- the latter two clinging to each other as you opened the door and went down the short hallway to the door that read EMPLOYEES ONLY on the other side.

“Why would he split off from the group?” Jeonghan wondered. “If he were trying to prank you guys, he would’ve had me in on it.”

“Maybe he just--”

Your sentence was cut off by a scream -- your own scream. Your eyes saw the scene before you: Joshua’s body laying just in front of the EMPLOYEES ONLY door, a bloodied mess. All you could do was scream.

Standing over him, covered in what you could only assume was your friend’s blood, was Bongbong.

“_____, run!” Minghao shouted, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from the door.

He quickly reached for the door and slammed it closed as you and the others ran back down the short hall. Jihoon had poked his head out the door to see what the noise was, and you crashed right into him, hyperventilating as tears welled in your eyes.

God, that image was going to be burned into your brain forever.

“What happened?” he asked.

“J-J-Josh!” you sobbed.

“Those things are in here,” Minghao panted, closing the door to the security room and pressing his back. “Th-they got Josh.”

“You’re fucking with us,” Seungkwan said quietly and very unsurely.

“Would Minghao fuck with you?!” Jeonghan cried. “If you don’t believe us, why don’t you go out there and check for yourself, Kwan? Go get yourself traumatized!”

“Okay, don’t scream at him, it won’t help anything,” Wonwoo spoke up, trying to somehow keep the group put together.

“Let’s just focus on finding a way out,” Seungcheol decided in a shaky voice. 

“U-um...guys?” Mingyu spoke up, staring into the monitors.

Everyone gathered over to see what he was looking at.

Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.

They knew where you were.

“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”

“I get it’s scary, but we have to stay calm and--”

“Hey!”

Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He smirked, gesturing to the door.

“While you guys were shitting your pants, I found the underground exit,” he stated.

“Well fuck, kid,” Jihoon whistled under his breath.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.

Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”

Jeonghan just rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

19 -- B

You felt like a shitty person for not wanting to risk your life for Joshua. You felt extremely guilty that you didn’t want to go out and look for your friend, but truthfully, you were afraid to die -- and that’s why half your friends didn’t want to go looking for him. Not everyone was brave enough to be a hero, and while you always told yourself you would be when putting yourself into the shoes of horror movie characters, it just wasn’t the truth.

But in the midst of the argument of whether or not to go out to search for Josh -- the argument that you stayed silent for -- Mingyu spoke up in a shaky voice, “U-uh...g-guys?”

Everyone turned toward him to see he was staring into the monitors. You all gathered over to see what he was looking at.

Each room had a camera and a monitor to go with it. However, the monitors had gone fuzzy so you couldn’t see anything in any of the rooms.

Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed, “Why are the cameras suddenly down?”

You wished they stayed that way after seeing what was displayed next. In each room, stood an animatronic. Each camera had an animatronic staring into it, as if they all were staring at the group.

They knew where you were.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.

You could see on one of the monitors, Bongbong was standing in front of the camera holding a familiar body. Joshua was being held up by his neck, and blood was coming out of his mouth, nose, eyes, and even his ears. 

You weren’t the only one to let out a scream and flinch away from the camera, hiding your face as you started panicking and crying.

“We have to get out of here,” Seomin panted, beginning to hyperventilate. “They’re going to come in here and kill us!”

“We have to find the fucking exit!” Seungcheol said in a panic. “Everyone go--”

“Hey!”

Everyone turned their heads a the sudden exclamation. Chan was standing beside a square metal door in the floor with some dusty boxes and wires he’d moved to find it. He was just staring at you like he hadn’t just witnessed what all of you did -- and maybe he didn’t because he was too busy searching.

“Way ahead of you,” he stated.

“Thank god,” Jihoon said under his breath.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Soonyoung said as he threw the trapdoor opened and descended the ladder that led to a narrow corridor.

Chan gave Jeonghan a pointed look, “And you thought I was stupid.”

Jeonghan just glared at him, “I’m not in the fucking mood.”

And then he went down the ladder.

[GO TO 20 -- A]

»»————-　　————-««

20 -- A

Other than only being wide enough for one person to walk through at a time, it was also very dimly-lit. It definitely looked like something straight out of a horror movie that would 100% lead to the characters’ imminent death.

Needless to say your heart was pounding in your ears.

There was another metal door, but this one was far easier to open. The squeak of it echoed down the corridor as the thirteen of you filed into the room. It seemed to be where they kept the spare mascot suits that actual employees would wear. There were a few of the bodies of the suits hanging up, with heads scattered in corners and on shelves, along with gloves and feet strewn about.

“I hate this,” Jun stated, looking around the room. 

“I know these things are empty, but looking into their empty eyes is somehow worse,” Jihoon mumbled, staring at an Eight head.

At the opposite end of the tiny room in the right corner was another metal door. You were starting to wonder how many more metal doors you’d have to encounter in this place.

To the left of the room, there was a tiny wooden door that seemed like it would lead to a crawlspace. You assumed there was just more storage back there, but nobody cared enough to look back there, anyway. The focus was to get out of this place and get to safety.

“C’mon,” you nodded your head toward the other metal door that you assumed would lead to the exit, “let’s keep going.”

As Seungcheol went for the door, you and your friends heard banging. You all paused, Seungcheol’s hand on the handle. You listened for the banging again, and then looked to where it seemed to be coming from.

“Guys?” Joshua’s voice called from behind the small wooden door. “Guys?! Oh my god, guys! C-can you hear me? Hello?! Help me!”

“Josh?” Jeonghan took a step toward the door.

[TO HELP JOSHUA GO TO 21 -- A]

[TO CONTINUE TO THE EXIT GO TO 21 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

21 -- A

“Joshua!” you cried as you ran to the small door.

You knew what your eyes saw, but was it possible none of it was real? How else would you be hearing Joshua’s voice? He must’ve been alive somehow. Anything seemed possible at this point.

You got down on your knees, opened the small door, and crawled your way through. You stood up as your friends tried to get in behind you, but what you saw made your heart fall into your stomach as your hands went to cover your mouth, muffling the loud sob that came out.

Joshua’s body was slumped against the left wall, looking just as you had remembered.

He was still dead.

Your friends had similar reactions to you. Seokmin even threw up. 

Seungcheol shook his head slowly, eyes full of tears while some streaked his cheeks, “We... W-we have to bring his body...”

“He’s right,” Jihoon said solemnly -- his body seemed to be shutting down now, almost uncapable of processing his emotions. “We need evidence of what happened tonight. Nobody will believe us otherwise.”

“I-I hate to say it, b-but...it’ll s-slow us down, though,” Wonwoo interjected through his sniffles. “What if we don’t make it out?”

[TO TAKE JOSHUA’S BODY WITH YOU GO TO 22 -- A]

[TO LEAVE WITHOUT JOSHUA’S BODY GO TO 22 -- B]

»»————-　　————-««

21 -- B

You quickly reached out and grabbed Jeonghan to keep him from going any closer to that door. He turned to look at you, a pained expression on his face.

“Jeonghan, that’s not Joshua,” you told him. “You saw what happened to him. Whatever it is, it’s not him.”

“I think _____’s right,” Wonwoo nodded. “We need to keep going.”

You kept your hold on Jeonghan as all of your began filing out of the mascot room into another narrow corridor like the other one. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.

But this door didn’t budge.

Soonyoung was at the head of the group, and he groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”

You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...

...Or maybe it was closer and closer.

Junhui walked down the way you’d come and poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. He whipped his head back around and booked it straight back to where your group was trying to open the door, calling, “You might wanna hurry up on that door!”

Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.

“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”

Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.

“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”

“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”

“There’s fou-- thirteen of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”

“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]

[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]

»»————-　　————-««

22 -- A

“We can’t just leave him here,” you stated. “Not only for the evidence, but because he doesn’t deserve to rot away here. His family doesn’t deserve to wonder what happened to him.”

“I’ll grab him,” Seungcheol offered, swallowing his fears and stepping forward to scoop up his friend. “Let’s get him home.”

Chan was the last into the tiny room, so he turned to go. But the wooden door was suddenly closed and wouldn’t open back up.

“What the hell?!” he grunted as he continued to try the door.

“Why’d you let it close, dumbass?!” Jeonghan demanded.

“I didn’t!” Chan shouted back. “It was just open!”

“Ugh, leave it to the fucking baby to--”

“G-guys?” Seokmin asked.

“Can you get off my fucking case?!” Chan huffed as he stood up and went to stand toe-to-toe with Jeonghan. “You’re always such a fucking asshole to me! Why can’t you--”

“Guys?” Seokmin tried again, looking between the left and right walls.

“Are you two really going to argue right now?” Jihoon groaned. “We’re literally--”

“Guys!” Seokmin finally shouted over everyone. “The walls!”

“What about the--”

Jihoon’s question died down as soon as all of you began looking at the walls. They were moving in toward each other, which would crush all of you between them.

Everyone was suddenly in a panic. Everyone was throwing themselves at the door, trying to tug it open before the walls could do anything. Some of you -- such as you and Wonwoo -- decided to spread out so you had more room. But some -- like Jeonghan and Chan, who grouped up by the door with a few others -- created a big human-lump that would be crushed faster. You heard their cries and pleas before they were crushed to death with a sound you couldn’t get out of your ears.

It was only a moment later you met the same fate.

[GO TO ENDING B]

»»————-　　————-««

22 -- B

"Nobody wants to be the asshole that says it’s better to leave him behind, but...” you trailed off.

Wonwoo was right. Joshua would more than likely slow you down. Besides, you knew Josh would want all of you to have the best chance of getting out alive as possible.

“Th-then you go ahead,” Seokmin spoke up, almost like he was afraid to.

“What?” Jihoon asked.

“I...” Seokmin looked at Joshua as more tears welled in his eyes. “It makes me sad to think he’d just be down here alone. I don’t care if he’s...gone. He can’t just stay down here.”

“I’m not leaving my best friend down here,” Jeonghan agreed.

“Seokmin, he’s--”

“Look, just go,” Hansol interrupted whatever Jihoon was going to say. “I’ll help them with the body. You guys just go on ahead.”

Minus the three who wanted to collect Joshua’s body, the group turned and left the small room and went back to the mascot room. Soonyoung tugged on the metal door and led the way down another corridor that looked exactly the same as the one that had led into the mascot room. This one, though, had a sharp right turn before leading down a while to another steel door.

But as you were walking down the hallway, you heard the yells and screams of your three friends. All of you turned on a dime and ran back toward the mascot room but the metal door was already closed and wouldn’t re-open for some reason. All of you were yelling and trying to open the door until you heard a sickening crunch, and then silence.

You all fell silent. You didn’t know what to do now.

“We--” Jihoon’s voice cracked so he cleared his throat. “We should just...keep going...”

Following behind Jihoon, you all turned one by one and went back down the hallway. You turned the corner and walked down that long hallway toward another metal door.

But this door didn’t budge.

Jihoon groaned in frustration as he tugged at the handle over and over again, “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me; what’s with these doors?!”

You started to hear a thumping. It slowly got louder and louder...

...Or maybe it was closer and closer.

Junhui walked down the way you’d come and poked his head around the corner, his eyes widening at what he saw. He whipped his head back around and booked it straight back to where your group was trying to open the door, calling, “You might wanna hurry up on that door!”

Coming down the hall were all four animatronics, their eyes lit up as they stomped closer and closer.

“It’s not doing anything!” Soonyoung huffed, trying with all his might to open the door. “Mingyu, get up here!”

Mingyu squeezed between bodies to get to the door, trying to open it as the group just shouted for him to be faster.

“We might have to just...face these things,” Chan said. “Once and for all.”

“Yeah? How?” Wonwoo scoffed. “They’ll crush us in seconds.”

“There’s fou-- nine of us, and four of them. We might have a shot.”

“Well hurry up and decide so we can at least put the strongest up against them first,” Junhui called.

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS WHILE MINGYU KEEPS WORKING AT THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- A]

[TO FACE THE ANIMATRONICS TOGETHER GO TO 23 -- B]

[TO KEEP TRYING THE DOOR GO TO 23 -- C]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- A

“Mingyu, keep trying the door!” you called to him. “We’ll try to hold them back.”

“We?!” Seungkwan repeated.

Mingyu continued to try to pull the door open as the animatronics slowly turned the corner and began walking toward the nine of you. You weren’t sure how to prepare yourself for this at all, but you knew you couldn’t just turn your back and die.

But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against eight fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.

Well, not you specifically.

Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward Mingyu, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.

That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.

“I got the--!”

Mingyu’s exclamation of finally getting the door open was cut off by Bongbong’s arm swinging out and clotheslining him into the wall and cutting off his oxygen. 

The attack that was meant for you, but you had ducked underneath.

The light flooded into the corridor, and just like that, the animatronics just shut down. The light turned off in their eyes, and they were frozen with their hands reaching out for you.

Except Bongbong’s arm that was now frozen in place, keeping Mingyu strangled against the wall. 

You could hear Mingyu gasping for air as you slowly opened your eyes that you’d squeezed shut when you ducked. You looked up and saw the animatronics were lifeless now, and then you shot up and turned to try to help Mingyu. You pulled and pulled on Bongbong’s arm while you had to watch Mingyu slowly die. It was like watching a movie in slow motion, the way his body went limp and the life drained from his eyes. Still, you stood there and sobbed and told him you’d free him as you continued to pull uselessly at the animatronic.

When it finally set in that you didn’t stand a chance, you ran out the back parking lot where the door opened to. You ran out of the park and to your car -- which was still parked near the other 3 that belonged to your friends that were no longer with you -- and drove off toward home with tears still streaming down your face.

The clock on your car radio said 6:08am.

[GO TO ENDING A]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- B

“The door’s useless!” you cried. “We’re not going to just turn our backs and die. That’s not how I wanna go out.”

Nobody had any faith, but they knew you were right. Laying down and dying after all of this wasn’t worth it. If you died, at least you would die fighting.

But you should’ve known what would happen. Four giant machines up against nine fleshy humans who were nowhere near as strong. Sure, all of you were faster than them, but how could you dodge or run in such a narrow hallway? You were doomed from the start.

Seungcheol had shoved you to the back toward the door that wouldn’t open, promising to keep you safe. So your friends all died in front of you, and all you could do was stand there and watch in horror.

That’s when Bongbong closed in on you.

[GO TO ENDING B]

»»————-　　————-««

23 -- C

“The door will work!” you swore “Like the basement, remember? Just keep trying!”

Sure, this was different in the way that you had to pull and not push, but it had to give eventually, right?

You continued to face the animatronics that were now starting to close in on all of you. Seungcheol tried to squeeze in besided Mingyu, grabbing the handle and pulling with him. Jihoon crawled between Mingyu’s legs and stood in between the taller boy’s arms, both of his hands wrapped around the handle and tugging with everything he had.

You moved to put yourself in front of your friends. You got all of them into this mess, so you deserved to be the first to die.

As Bongbong closed in on you, you closed your eyes.

“_____--!”

The darkness you saw behind your eyelids suddenly seemed brighter, and you felt a gust of wind from behind you.

There was a couple seconds of silence.

“Holy shit,” Minghao breathed.

You opened one eye just enough to see Bongbong’s face just inches from yours. But...why were the lights in its eyes off?

You opened your eye wider. Then the other one. Its arm was only a hair away from you, but it made no move to actually touch you. There was also light flooding into the corridor from behind you. You whipped your head around to see the door was open, and you looked back at four animatronics. Were they off now?

“Oh my god,” you sighed in a shaky voice, taking a step backward toward the door.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Wonwoo said as he grabbed your hand and all but dragged you out the door.

The door opened to the back of the parking lot. All of you ran as fast as you could toward your cars, only stopping at the hood of the closest one to catch your breath. Seungcheol pulled out his phone.

“It’s 6am,” he reported.

“Maybe that’s why the door didn’t open,” Wonwoo panted, hands on his knees.

“I don’t care to speculate,” Jihoon said as he went to get into one of the four cars. “Take me the fuck home.”

[GO TO ENDING C]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING A 

You weren’t sure what to do about the texts from the group chat when you got home. You swore everyone was dead. You watched them die in front of you.

Soonyoung said he was tripping balls the whole night.

Jeonghan agreed, saying he was sure there was something in the air making them hallucinate.

Even Jihoon was saying something weird had happened that night, because he thought he saw everyone die.

So...maybe they were right?

But when you inevitably went to school Halloween day, something didn’t seem right. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you. 

Maybe it was from how emotionally and mentally drained you were, and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, but you swore there was an odd glow to their eyes that wasn’t just the glimmer of the florescents.

And why did Junhui wink at you?

[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING B

Get dressed.

Brush your teeth.

Brush your hair.

Go downstairs and converse with your parents.

Drive to school.

Say hello to your friends.

Laugh at what Soonyoung said.

Promise to walk to class with Seokmin and Seungcheol after you go to the bathroom.

Go into the bathroom.

Use the mirror to fix your outfit.

Use your fingers to brush through your hair one more time.

A light reflects off the mirror.

You are the only one in the bathroom.

[NONE OF YOU ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND BUT SOMETHING ELSE DID]

»»————-　　————-««

ENDING C

(NOTE: i know some people might’ve only had josh die while other had more people die. so this part will mention multiple people who didn’t make it home but i will only mention josh by name. sorry if it seems kind of confusing)

You didn’t even want to go back home after everything that happened. But you needed to shower and change, so you dropped your friends off before going home. After getting out of the shower, you checked your phone. Your heart dropped and your stomach was doing flips at what it saw.

One series of texts was from a group chat that was all of the people you were positive made it home from Caratland. All of them were wondering what the fuck was going on.

The other was the original group chat, with a text from Joshua asking if everyone made it home okay. It made a shiver go down your spine. How could he be texting? He died.

Those that had died started having a conversation about hallucinating, insisting something weird must’ve been in the air to make everyone trip and see things that didn’t actually happen. Nobody knew if it was possible. Minghao suggested that at this point, anything was possible. But still, why did all of you have the same hallucination?

The group decided it was best to ignore the message.

When Wonwoo offered to give you a ride to school, you said yes.

The two of you walked to homeroom together and saw the usual group of your friends sitting at the left side of the classroom. But seeing the friends you thought had died now just sitting there like nothing happened made your skin crawl. You wanted to turn around and walk out.

Wonwoo squeezed your hand and continued forward.

You sat and chatted with the group, and everyone seemed to be dancing around the fact that things were...weird. Maybe it was because you hadn’t slept all night and you were drained in every sense, or maybe it was because you were convinced all of your friends had died right before your very eyes, but everything felt...off. At least, your friends did. It was their smiles and their voices and their hugs and laughs and promises that everything was fine, but something about it seemed alien to you.

Maybe it was from how emotionally and mentally drained you were, and the fact you didn’t get any sleep, but you swore there was an odd glow to their eyes that wasn’t just the glimmer of the fluorescents.

And why did Joshua wink at you?

[YOU AND ALL YOUR FRIENDS ESCAPED FROM CARATLAND...OR DID THEY?]

[ohheyitsokay]

heartbeat

pairing: Din Djarin (the Mandalorian) x reader

wordcount: 2.2k

warnings: brief mentions of violence and death, extremely tender moments

summary: sometimes in love, the body says more than the mouth does 

Also, thanks to @scribbledghost for yelling about this with me until I had coherent ideas! She is, as always, an inspiration

>>

It had been a little over a week when the Mandalorian had decided that you were his.

His what, exactly, he had no idea, but he was more than sure. You belonged to each other.

He liked feeling your back against his as you shot your blasters with precision and intention, liked how you grinned at him while you’d kept shooting as he grabbed you and jet-packed away from the troopers.

He liked the sound of your footsteps when you walked around the Crest, liked that he could tell by them that you already knew where to go. And when you took off your boots, he liked those footsteps, too.

He liked the way your eyes looked as he spoke, the way he could make them dilate just a little as you listened. He liked that when he stepped closer, instinctively, so did you.

There was no reason for him to reflect on it, and really, no time for things like that. It just fit, you and him, protecting the child, against the world.

And so it went.

Until one day, the Mandalorian found himself turning in slow circles at the edge of a smoldering city, ashes still suspended in the air, the forms of families still huddled together disintegrating as their souls returned to the galaxy. Something in him changed.

Always, he wanted you by his side, wanted to protect you but… he had never felt that he could lose you, really, before this moment. Had never known the dangerous thing that was, to love someone and risk that love every moment of every day.

Did you know? Did you know that he loved you so much he feared for you, and yet still selfishly needed you within arms reach?

He wanted you to know.

But maybe you already did? Maybe you saw how he stepped in front of you when the hairs on his neck were raised. Maybe you knew what he meant when he’d taken you to a remote village to lay low, and told you his name under the stars. Maybe he didn’t have to tell you, just had to keep working at showing you that your life being intertwined with his and the child’s was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He thought about it that day, and every other day for awhile, and again as he followed you through a the thicket of a jungle towards the spot where your quarry lay. There were ways you showed him… something of your own.

You had stuck around, for one. Beyond that you looked after him too, covered for him countless times without even needing to be asked, looked after the child and the ship as though they were your home. And sometimes he would come back and find something he forgot he needed, placed just outside his door, or something fixed before he got around to it. Even better, you were vulnerable with him, in ways he’d never seen you be with others. Your eyes talked to him, when your mouth couldn’t, or wouldn’t, and the tension would slide out of your limbs when you felt him nearby.

You turned towards him, warning him not to step on a strange plant, when a glint appeared over your shoulder. Din was hardly aware he had drawn his blaster before two shots rang through the humid air.

He was facing you, your eyebrows drawn together, mouth pressed into a line, breath still in your lungs as your whole form held still as stone.

You were pointing your blaster over his shoulder, mirroring him.

Somewhere, on either side, two mercenaries fell to the ground with lifeless thuds.

There was a smile on your face, then, and he watched for his favorite moment as you held his gaze – the one where your eyes softened. It came, and you said quietly, without fear, “I love you, Din.”

The air was too thick, then, he almost couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah,” he forced out, half choking on the word, wishing he was functional enough to manage three, or maybe four more. Instead he grasped your neck, his hand engulfing the whole side, and the thumb of his glove twitched over your jaw, almost on your cheek. Your smiled widened, knowing and miraculously content, and the two of you split to collect your prizes from the earth below.

-

It was awful, sometimes, existing in this universe. Seeing terrible people do horrible things, trying to help and not saving enough lives or changing things in time or being shoved away when he was needed most.

This was one of those times. The Mandalorian had tried to help, tried to be good, he really did. But it wasn’t enough, would never be.

He was a warrior, was raised as the strongest of strong, to look out for his own and slay anyone who tried to stop him. In his warriors arms, you had almost died, and his strength was all but gone as he trembled with triumph and fear as you lay limp against his chest.

The man had not been slayed, but Din had succeeded enough to carry you home, clinging to the warmth that still seeped from your skin. Your chest rose and fell, slowly, slowly, as it had in those quite moments he’d caught you sleeping. He had seen your eyes before they slid closed – you were alive, you would be fine. That moment replayed itself in his mind the whole trip back to the Crest, and for long hours and he cradled you against him, unable to feel his own wounds. 

The weight of the day, of the fight and the losses settled on him, heavier by far than that of your person. His blood felt thick under his skin, numbness oozing from the top of his head, down, down, down to the floor.

Finally, he took slow, rattling breaths, and found the strength within him to place you in his bunk. Movements mechanical, he tucked the blankets around you, trying to be gentle but needing you to be warm, safe. Seated next to you, Din took your hand, and lowered his head onto the edge.

He slept, dreaming of plants, pushing through the metal of the ship, growing until they encompassed you both, preserving you like the heroes of old, hands clasped.

When he woke he was as stiff as though it were true, but you were not a legend yet, because you were looking at him. There was a puffiness around your eyes that told him you’d just woken up, but you were sitting, tracing his knuckles with your free hand. Din sat up, too, bones creaking and muscles groaning, but overwhelmed with relief and joy. His blood, so thick before, was now pumping fast at the beauty of you, each beat in his chest feeling like a chant, a prayer.

The heaviness was still there, the weight of the galaxy was looming just outside the ship and he needed you to know he loved you. Needed you to know how badly he had it for you, how thoroughly you completed his life - how when he dreamed of the future, he dreamed of you.

But the thickness of the numbness was taking to long to slide away, it was too slow and before he could think he was fumbling with the side of his chest plate. It was clumsy with only a single hand, but he needed the other to tug yours closer, to push it inside of the armor, pleading silently with you to feel it.

His heart beat for you.

-

It was hard, leaving his riduur in bed, harder than he’d anticipated.

He knew you would be following him sooner than later, but… Din just wanted to feel you a moment longer, see your skin and hair and eyes in his blankets without a filter for just a little more.

Each piece of cloth was a shroud of mystery, each proud piece of beskar a sharp edge between his soul and the world. That was a good thing, outside this room, but in here, between you, he hated it.

It felt wrong, to cover skin that could be pressed against yours, to create a tough shell that you weren't allowed to pass.

He couldn’t even fully enjoy your adoring eyes as each piece slid into place, building him into the Mandalorian.

You could see his hesitation in his eyes as he held onto his helmet. As always, Din knelt like a knight, and pressed a deep, final kiss onto your mouth, longing in his eyes. A glove stroked your cheek, as gentle as if you were still asleep.

He asked you, then, if you would do something for him. It was a silly thing, to others maybe, but your riduur wouldn’t ask unless he needed it.

You were content to oblige the first few days. It had never occurred to you as a solution, to move your schedule just a bit to rise before he did. It was hard to have him watch you, loving brown eyes and tussled curls and warm skin, but it made sense.

As you pulled on your own gear, you reflected. This solution was good, for him to put up his walls after you’d moved on with the morning, but it didn’t feel quite right. Even still, when he would find you in the cockpit, the fingers of his gloves would hover, his longing rolling off of him like guilt.

A seed of thought planted itself in your mind, and you nurtured it a few days more before it was ready to share with him.

The time had come, as it has every morning, when his touches loosened and his kisses slowed, and he would sigh against your skin, ready to send you off.

As you stood, blankets slipping off your half-bare form, you pulled at him. His face betrayed confusion, and a touch of hurt, and you bent to kiss him, whispering about trust.

When Din rose, it was as though you were dancing, floating around the room to find each piece and helping him put it on. One by one, you explained to him , telling him the words what he needed to hear.

You loved him as Din, vulnerable and trusting and bared for you, but you also loved him as the Mandalorian. Whispers and kisses to the cold metal promised you loved all versions of him, cherished both fighting by his side and sleeping against it. And he watched as you put him together with pride, awe in his eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he said it, but that morning, as your fingers finished the final clasps and you handed him his helmet, Din Djarin told you he loved you.

-

The first sign that something was very, very wrong, was that Din's footsteps were loud. They echoed through the metal walls of your flying home without real purpose, only anger.

You searched for him as they slowed, of course you did. You had never been properly afraid if the Mandalorian, and indeed, he had never hurt you.

Under the layers his muscles were filled with tension, his heart riddled with self loathing and confusion and guilt. He had never meant the harm he’d caused. It all went wrong so fast. He was just… trying to help.

Eyes glazed over, still clouded with red, his mind was still lightyears away, replaying the smoking scenes again and again. The yelling rang in his ears, his own voice telling them to trust him.

He felt something, something strange and soft, slipping sideways across his chest, settling over his heart. It bypassed the pain, the aches, and the hurt easily, effortlessly carving a path for you to him.

You were there, had pulled off his chest plate as he sat, stewing, pulled away his walls just enough to touch him. He was your riduur, alive, and human.

The numbness was held at bay as he began to thaw under your touch. It had become a wonderful thing, for you to put in his armor in the mornings encouraging his strength with every movement but… the evenings were his favorite part of the day, especially during ones that left harsh, dark marks on his soul.

Fingers careful but quick, you began to undo the pieces. It was quiet- you were always silent, letting him process if he needed to, however he needed to, and the sounds of scrapping fabric and the thuds of metal being gentle placed aside was soothing. You scrubbed the marks off his soul as best as you could, before your movements slowed and you regarded him.

Din’s hands, now bare, brought yours to his helmet, enjoying your gaze through your lashes as you accepted, taking it off. When he kissed you, time slowed to a stop.

He could feel your heartbeat as his skin pressed into yours. On the side of your neck, the insides of your wrists, through your ribs - as fast and steady as his own. 

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms