#okay so the deal with these chapters is that none of the boys have a full chapter. so every part is necessary to understand what’s going on

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor x MC – S2 CH 38 (Eng Translation)

“You only need to remember that from beginning to end, we are always walking in the same direction and are destined to meet at the endpoint.”

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released in the global server. ⌚

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

[Anika’s Note]: I’m really short on time and exhausted. So, my prime focus will be on Victor x MC’s crucial interactions, and I won’t be explaining the plot specific details this time~ ♡

–

✧ [CH 38-1] ✧

The chapter batch starts with a vision of MC in the Black Cabin and MC declaring her determination to the mysterious guy, “All her efforts so far have been for this moment. She wants to be with the person she likes, protect the world she likes.”

Upon this, a door opens in front of her in the vast space.

–

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [CH 38-2] ✧

Six days prior on the skywalk—

After the gunshot rings out, MC finds herself still being steadily held in Victor’s arms and notices the bullet that had fallen to her feet.

Following this, a transparent barrier appears in front of her, and another “bang” cuts through the air from a distance. MC feels a slight pain and loses consciousness.

[The narrator’s POV] A large white fabric appears out of thin air along with the gunshot, and the girl disappears, leaving everyone shocked while Victor is utterly unfazed.

*Entry of the other three boys, and delicious back and forth haha* This sub-chapter ends with Victor demanding an answer from Poseidon regarding the mechanical box.

–

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [CH 38-4] ✧

MC finds herself waking up in the silent and solemn, splendidly magnificent BS Hall, realizing that the BS Building has also entered the space-time overlapping area.

While MC is trying to figure things out, i.e., Victor suddenly holding her “hostage” and the sudden gunshot, she sees excited Zehn running to her—

–

Zehn: Boss, you’re awake!

MC: ...Zehn? What are you doing here?

Zehn: It’s a long story. In brief, the BOSS notified me a while back that I had to carry out a mission and asked me to be on standby on the rooftop of the skyscraper across the skywalk when you guys go to the Land of Advent.

Zehn: I thought I wouldn’t need to come into the play. But then, I suddenly received the signal from the BOSS to fire. So, I transferred you over without delay.

MC: ...signal? Transfer?

I realize something in hindsight as I recall the last fragments of my memory. Thinking back to the flash of white that appeared in my field of vision, my chaotic thoughts gradually become clearer.

Zehn: Yeah, BOSS said that if I see you appearing on the skywalk, I’ll move you over as planned beforehand.

Zehn: As expected of BOSS. He already calculated everything that you’d appear there.

Zehn’s sentiments, although somewhat neither here nor there, confirm my vague conjecture.

As expected, even if the disclosure of my identity was an accident, Victor had already prepared backup plans ahead of time.

But there is inevitably something baffling about it, as though I’m overlooking something important.

I remember that a fleeting barrier appeared after Victor fired the gun… did I see it wrong?

Or is there something else in this plan, something in the arrangement that I don’t know about?

Pondering for a while, I look at Zehn again.

MC: Did BOSS say why he asked you to bring me here?

Zehn: No. He only asked me to tell you–– the flight of steps is probably the final step for your power.

—

MC recalls what Victor told her about the “flight of steps” being only open to the carrier of the CORE. MC realizes that because of completing the steps earlier and the golden dagger that appeared in her palm — she now has the full power of the CORE.

Recalling the last time MC was in the BS Hall (S1 CH 36)-- how she entered the Black Cabin with the full power of the QUEEN and prevented the doomsday— MC realizes if she enters the Black Cabin with the full power of CORE now, she will be able to find a way around the space-time overlap.

At this moment, Zehn gives MC the black box Victor asked him to give her, leaving MC utterly speechless about how Victor prepared everything, and how his foresight is like a god~

Zehn tells MC to call him if she needs anything as he’ll be on standby, then leaves.

Though unsettled about the overlapping incident, MC steels herself as Victor has paved the road for her, and she must live up to his expectations.

Using the black box as the key, MC enters the black cabin.

–

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [CH 38-10] ✧

[Skipping two non-Victor sub-chapters here]:

MC is on the rooftop of a tall building, shockingly finding a comet hanging in the sky and a countdown timer. 

At this moment, she notices some strangers appearing on the rooftop, seemingly trying to overwrite the errors as the piano music keeps playing in a regular pattern. 

Eventually, the reflection of the two “Loveland City” flicker alternately, the piano strings snap, and the overlapping zone takes over.

–

Amid the long and tedious silence, a man slowly walks out of the shadows.

The colors of the night distinctly outline his striking, tall, and straight physique, bringing me an ineffable sense of familiarity.

?? (Victor): It seems this is no longer within the category that Space-Time Bureau can resolve.

?? (Victor): Zero, you should know more clearly than I do what all this means right now.

The deep, low voice falls steadily into my ears, causing me to freeze.

What is Victor doing here?

What did he mean by that? Are these people here to solve the overlapping space-time issue? Are they from the Space-Time Bureau?

The sheer volume of information in these few sentences leaves my brain muddled.

I’ve heard Victor mention the Space-Time Bureau once before. It was a very long time ago when he disappeared for a month, and when he came back, he told me that he had gone there to take care of some business.

I even feel like I’ve seen that place.

On that eternal night before doomsday, I saw a fantastical space with a shimmering river of stars, and I saw Victor sitting there, gazing fixedly at the passage of time.

I have no idea why I’m making such a decisive connection. It’s as though… I’ve actually been to that place.

I try to contemplate it more deeply. But it seems as though something is blocking my thoughts, my brain faintly becoming a space of primal chaos.

–

[Tidibits]: Refreshing the callbacks here: one-month disappearance, i.e., the 10K years (S1 CH 36), the eternal night paragraph (S1 CH 37), MC being unable to remember that she’s actually been to Space-Time Bureau (S2 CH 26)~ ;-;

–

An extreme quietude hangs in the air. And the silent rooftop seems to be enveloped with an impenetrable net.

I can’t help myself from taking a step forward. At this moment, Victor’s figure also turns around, and his heavy gaze inadvertently seems to land on me.

The instant our eyes meet, I feel as if I see him gently closing his eyes.

MC: !

…Victor knows I’m here?

I blink. But before I can pull myself together to confirm it, Victor has already withdrawn his gaze.

Zero: When the deviations affecting the course of history are destined to be not adjustable, even if the trajectory is changed, the rules of the world’s functioning will not be applicable either.

Zero: Civilizations have fallen, and the universe is unbalanced. This world…

Zero: There’s no longer any possibility for this world.

A hint of non-acceptance plays across the corners of Victor’s tightly pursed lips.

Victor: In the 1908 White House explosion incident, you guys erased the existence of all survivors in order to conceal a certain fact.

Victor: You could say that this is the job of the Time Observers, to maintain the so-called stable functioning of the world.

Victor: I’ve never denied the necessity of the existence of you guys. But from beginning to end, I’ve never believed that rewriting the ending will inevitably bring a negative effect. It’s merely a subjective assumption on your part.

The other person’s expression remains unchanged as he slowly opens his mouth.

Zero: Observation and revision, by their very nature, cannot alter the rules of the world.

Zero: The world will move forward, and it can only move forward. After the extinction of one civilization, new branches evolve, and new civilizations are born, following the same pattern as before.

Zero: Even if you’ve seen all the futures, no one can rewrite fate, let alone the fate of the world.

There is not a single ripple in his tone, revealing a calmness born from scrutinizing. Yet, it strikes me as cruelty beyond one can endure.

Victor doesn’t speak and only pulls his gaze away into the distance, resting it on the stream of light emitting from the comet. The long tail streaks across the clouds, reminiscent of a passing cluster of fireworks.

It has brought destruction upon the world and turned everything upside down, but it also paints an unforgettable splendor.

I can’t help but gaze at Victor. His tightly pursed lips are clearly defined into a fierce line, and his deep eyes are surging with dark and gloomy emotions that I’m unable to discern.

In the end, as usual, he lifts his chin arrogantly.

Victor: The world admittedly has its criteria.

Victor: But the people who live in this world carry their cherished desires in their hearts.

Victor: You guys have been observing for too long. I’m afraid you’ve forgotten what it feels like to actually live in this world and what significance it carries.

Victor: So, no matter what outcome it brings, I will find a way to keep this world’s trajectory moving forward according to the expectations we harbor.

Victor’s back is upright. Each of his words blends into the depth of the night, and they seem to carry the weight of ten million.

Zero doesn’t seem surprised to hear these words, but his expression still reveals regret.

Zero: You could have chosen not to carry everything.

Zero: I believe I don’t need to remind you of the price of doing this.

The price? What does it mean?  As I stare at that nonchalant face, my heart can’t help but tighten.

Exactly how much has this man taken on alone that I don’t know about?

While my thoughts are running wild, the halo of a huge clock dial suddenly appears beneath the feet of those people, its second hand rapidly speeding backward.

Zero: Time is not tolerant of those who betray it.

Zero: Victor, I hope this won’t be the last time we meet.

The clock hand of the halo turns faster and faster, and the piano music reminiscent of whimpering gradually reaches its climax.

A gust of cold air sweeps across my back. Shuddering, I silently walk out of the corner and look at Victor, who’s standing not far away.

In the darkness, he seems to fuse with the heavy ink-black color of the sky, ice-cold and alone.

He doesn’t come over. He just stands there and looks at me.

Victor: Heard everything?

MC: ...Mm.

Victor: So then, tell me about what your thoughts are.

–

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

–

✧ [CH 38-11] ✧

Countless questions flood my mind, and I can’t help but lower my head, not knowing what to say.

I want to ask him, “Why were you with the people of Space-Time Bureau? Have you been there again?”

“Rules,” “amendments,” “fates” – and those things that you guys were talking about, what do they mean? Were those people here to solve the space-time overlapping incident?

And the pretense of “taking hostage” in the Land of Advent, when did you start planning all this?

I don’t know why but my heart suddenly turns sour. In so many places I don’t know about, he’s been standing in front of me from beginning to end, removing the obstacles for me.

Victor: Lift your head. The floor isn’t gonna talk.

Victor: I know you have many questions. So now, ask them one by one. Don’t let your imagination run wild.

Victor releases a sigh as though he’s already seen through me long ago.

I purse my lips, lift my head, and look straight at him.

MC: What’s the price that man from the Space-Time Bureau talking about just now?

Victor: [helplessly]  That’s your first question?

A trace of astonishment streaks through his eyes, and his tone is a little helpless.

MC: Mm. This is what I want to know the most.

Victor: It’s nothing.

Victor: Appropriate threats are an important step in negotiations between the parties.

Victor: You don’t need to take every word he said seriously.

Victor: Next.

MC: …

He says it casually, his serene tone carrying the same certainty as any time in the past.

Victor: Don’t have any more questions?

MC: …no, no, I just didn’t expect the answer to be like this.

Victor: If not, what did you expect?

MC: Who asked them to talk like they were taking the matter very much in earnest? I thought you were keeping me in the dark and were off shouldering something alone again without letting me know.

Victor: It seems the dummy habitually only listens to half of what she’s being told. I told you, no matter what you want to do, I’ll face it together with you.

MC: Says the man who pulled a gun on me before on the skywalk without saying a word and almost scared me to death…

Victor: …I can hear you.

Victor breathlessly interrupts my little muttering and walks up to me. Then, extending his hand, he nudges my head.

Victor: You heard just now that, from the standpoint of the Space-time Bureau, the current space-time overlap ought to be corrected. Otherwise, the world’s development process will be affected.

Victor: But it’s evident that this matter is beyond the category of their capabilities.

I nod thoughtfully.

MC: The torrent of history, as they put it, will always surge forward. Everything is already set in stone. It can only be complied with, not altered…

I subconsciously think about the comet, about everyone’s great efforts before the arrival of doomsday. I think about the choices I made in the Black Cabin and these renewed 17 years of “moving forward.”

I take a deep breath and look resolutely at Victor.

MC: Even if the world does have a fixed trajectory, any minute variable might still bring about a huge difference.

MC: Such as CORE.

MC: The space-time overlap came about because of it, and perhaps I’m the only one who can settle this.

MC: From acceptance to learning to control it, I’ve already had mental preparation for a long time now.

MC: Isn’t this what you said just now?

MC: “The people who live in this world carry their cherished desires in their hearts.”

MC: “So, I will find a way to keep this world’s trajectory moving forward according to the expectations we harbor.”

I deliberately imitate Victor’s tone of voice and see an imperceptible smile dancing across the tip of his brows, causing me to be filled with gratification and relief.

Victor: [suppressing laughter]  Parrot.

I restrain my smile and gaze earnestly into his eyes.

MC: Victor, my heart’s desire is the same as yours.

He quietly looks back into my eyes, the light of his pupils profound and knowing.

Victor: I know.

Victor: Dummies have always had the courage to put all their eggs in one basket. But remember, you’re not alone.

Victor: I’ll be by your side.

He says it in an understated manner, but his tone carries the certainty of a commitment. My heart suddenly feels as if it’s been stuffed, feeling heavy.

Vaguely, the response of something else seems to come over me.

MC: What happened at the Land of Advent…?

Victor: A number of plans were deployed at the time to be prepared for anything unexpected.

Victor: But the prerequisite of all of them was so your safety comes before anything else.

He doesn’t explain much more, but I’ve already tacitly understood everything he meant.

I stand on tiptoes and gently smooth the creases in his collar.

MC: And did you deal with everything smoothly?

Victor: Everything is proceeding according to the plan. Unfortunately, though, Poseidon ran away. But that won’t hinder the investigation into finding the people behind him.

MC: Poseidon ran away? Why did he run… wait a minute, what do you mean by the people behind him?

Victor: BS has too many rotten parts embedded inside. It’s time to weed them all out one by one.

Victor gently pats the back of my hand, lowering his eyes to look into mine.

Victor: The most important thing right now is to clear a part of the way for you.

The temperature on the back of my hand is so fervent that it travels straight to the bottom of my heart. As though knowing what I’m about to say, he adds.

Victor: This is not helping you out. I’m only giving you the energy to do what you’re supposed to do.

He pauses, his gaze straying far into the distance. I also follow him and look along his line of sight.

Beneath the entire city shrouded with the gem-like dazzling comet, the stars in the sky sprinkle themselves into Victor’s deep eyes.

The high-rise buildings are lined up one after another, each with different lives on the other side of their window frames. Each of those lives had once done their utmost to live life earnestly in the last seconds before doomsday.

This time, however, we don’t know yet what we are about to face. Perhaps it will be an existence even more severe than doomsday, or perhaps the comet will make a comeback again.

In the distance, a white building resembling a lighthouse is glowing with an eerie light, and the digits that have enveloped the horizon are still counting down, akin to some kind of ominous omen.

Fate, as it appears, has changed nothing. And instead, it has become even more cruel.

My heart floods with countless emotions, and I squeeze Victor’s palm.

MC: Although there are still many notions that are yet to be disentangled, I more or less have got an idea of what I have to do.

MC: Don’t worry, Victor. I’ll definitely stop that countdown.

Victor appears slightly stunned, his inquiring gaze circling over me.

Victor: Countdown?

His slightly puzzled expression makes it clear that he seems to have no idea about the countdown. My breath faintly stalls in my throat, and suddenly an understanding dawns on me.

…could it be that I’m the only one who can see that dreadful countdown?

I purse my lips, wanting to say something to Victor. But I’m surprised to find that I’m not as shocked and incredulous as I imagined I would be.

MC: Yes, it’s something I’m trying to figure out.

MC: I don’t really know how to explain it to you right now. But I’ll find out the meaning behind it.

Victor: In that case, go find it quickly.

Hearing my words, Victor doesn’t ask me any more questions despite the inquiries floating in his eyes.

At this moment, a gray-green circle of light suddenly appears next to him, and a man in a white mask steps out of it immediately afterward.

MC: Poseidon? How…

But I soon realize that something is amiss. Although this man is wearing the exact same mask as Poseidon, his figure and appearance are nothing like Poseidon’s.

Victor doesn’t seem surprised at his arrival. Wasting no time, the other person turns around and whispers something to Victor.

A moment later, Victor nods.

Victor: Continue with the task, Poseidon.

Slightly stunned, I size up the man once again. Seeing my puzzlement, Victor speaks in a profound voice.

Victor: He succeeded in Poseidon’s place.

Victor: Next, I will lead the new Twelve main gods to fulfill the true prophecy.

The look on Victor’s face isn’t heavy, but carries an air of authority. It’s as though he is taking a solemn oath.

Victor: Together with the QUEEN, we will walk side by side into the new world.

With his words, the original prophecy that echoed in the Land of Advent comes rushing into my mind, and I stand frozen in place.

Victor’s expression is calm; his serene gaze is akin to a ray of light piercing through the darkness.

Victor: MC, run forward without any hesitation.

Victor: Do whatever it is you want to do. Even if the sky falls, I will hold it up for you.

Victor: You only need to remember that from beginning to end, we are always walking in the same direction and are destined to meet at the endpoint.

These resolute words fall into my ears, bringing me inexhaustible reassuring power, and the pupils of those eyes gazing into the depths of mine are shimmering with the light of having victory within grasp.

The neon lights stretch his shadow very, very long, enveloping my figure tightly within it.

My heart continues to pound in my chest, and I can see the countdown in the sky ticking away incessantly, reminiscent of a silent mockery and threat to me. But I don’t have the luxury of being afraid.

I look steadfastly at the white building in the distance, and Victor’s gaze also falls in the same direction as mine.

MC: Victor, I have to leave now.

I turn back to him, smiling as I look at him.

MC: You must keep your word. I’ll be waiting for you at the end point!

Hearing my words, Victor’s grave and stern face is tinged with an imperceptible smile.

He gazes at my figure quietly, his eyes shining with the very same unwavering tenderness and pride, just like the certainty within them with which he has watched me run forward every time.

I know that as long as I have the light of these eyes, I will forever have the strength and courage to run into the distance and into the unknown without any apprehension.

I look deeply into his eyes one more time.

Then turning around, I run with all my might.

—

⏳ S2 CH 39 (Victor x MC): Here!

—

[pricegouge]

Haul

Part Three MDNI

Master list | on ao3

slasher!trucker!141 x reader

series cw: dark fic. major character deaths, rape/noncon

chapter cw: noncon nudity, noncon touching, graphic depiction of injuries

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.   If you survive this indeed, though.

You count distance in the taste of fabric on your tongue. As hours and miles pass, the cotton fades from heavy copper, to salt-lick piquant. The trailer heats with the rising sun, metal hull hotboxing you in. The tight space you're kept in is padded, probably for sound proofing though you're almost grateful for it, given how it prevents you from burning yourself on the corrugated siding.

It's hard to guess how much time passes. It feels like days, but the trailer does not go through a cooling cycle, nor do you die of dehydration, so you assume only a handful of hours pass. You spend them drifting in and out of consciousness, wishing you had enough wherewithal to try escaping. Unfortunately, with the heat and the dark comes exhaustion, and with the adrenaline crash comes intense pain so you do little more than catalog injuries when you can concentrate enough to do so. 

It takes some test runs, but you eventually figure out your arm and shoulder are okay, though your collar bone likely isn't. You're lucky there - as far as you can feel, if it's fractured at all, it isn't compounded and you'd much rather heal a clavicle than a shoulder. Your cheekbone's fucked though; you can feel how it sinks into your face in a way it never has before, and blood pools in your sinus cavity, infects your saliva. It's likely going to need surgery, though you doubt your current ride is headed to a hospital. If you survive this, you'll end up with a pretty lopsided face, you figure.  

If you survive this indeed, though.

Poor Ash. She may have been a pain in the ass, but no one deserves to go out like that. It's hard to stop the tears when you think of her but you try anyway, knowing full well that further inflaming your face isn't going to do anyone any good. You wonder why they kept you alive - why Ash didn't make the cut. Or, did, you suppose. Maybe they felt two victims would have been too difficult to deal with. Maybe they thought Ash, who was still able to get around quite well, would've been too much of a handful. 

Maybe you're trying to reason with hurricane season, as it were, find rationality where there was none. These men were motivated by something you'd never understand and perhaps it was best not to waste your efforts on it. Still, it's hard to move past Simon and Gaz's brief exchange. 

'For cap?'

'For all of us.'

The thought of being shared by them made your stomach turn, but the thought that there was another one - one they evidently often brought victims back home to - that was even worse.

'Captain,' you sneer. You can't help but picture some old geezer who couldn't pull his own victims anymore; real Texas Chainsaw shit. The boys would probably have to hold you down so he could wax poetic at you about what a good hauler he used to be, help him lift a tire iron so he could get his rocks off. It would be enough to make you laugh, if it didn't feel like the tire iron was already whaling on you.

Still, you suppose knowing your fate lies with an old man and his lackeys is better than the alternative; even in your current state you know a truck with a soundproofed false back generally spells human trafficking for anyone with the misfortune to find themselves stuck in one. Your prospect doesn't make you happy by any means, but you suppose the enemy you know is better. Even if that enemy is a group of known killers. 

It's not too long after the trailer starts to cool that the quality of the roads changes; long, smooth interstate giving way to potholed, winding highway. You grit your teeth each time you're jostled, groan every time you remember your jaw is actually your biggest source of pain. 

The passiveness with which you wonder about our whereabouts surprises you, but you're so exhausted you don't hold yourself too accountable for that. It's not until the truck slows to a stop that you sit up straighter, heartbeat hammering when the back up alarm confirms your fears that you have arrived at your destination. They let you sit for a while after. Long enough to get cold. There's the occasional sound of air brakes firing and you figure you're in some sort of lot. You try yelling for help a few times, but between the gag in your mouth and the soundproofing around you, your cries go unanswered.

At least you hope that's the reason. Otherwise this entire lot is filled with people who are in on this potential trafficking ring and Simon's words echo even more ominously in your ears. 

A quiet rattling form the end of the trailer tells you when they open the doors hours later. The truck engine roars to life seconds after, backing up the final few feet necessary to slam into the loading dock hard enough to make a gruff voice from within yell. 

It's unfamiliar, makes you steady yourself harder against the unknown quality of it. You figure this must be Cap, feel some small sense of satisfaction when the old, ragged voice matches what you'd pictured. You listen intently as pallets are cleared away, the loud clatter of the jack ringing even through your soundproofing. There's a lower murmur of laughter, the boys regaling the older man with a story you can't quite hear but can definitely infer. When the truck is fully unloaded, their heavy boots tread the short runway - Johnny's truck, then; you'd wondered who you'd been riding with -, their voices coming clearer as they draw near. 

"- banged up, but mostly from the crash," you hear Simon rumble. 

Johnny's next, his grating brogue echoing within the trailer, "Well, except her nose. We can thank Gaz for that one."

"She can thank herself for it," Gaz snarks back, and you would bite your tongue if you could. There's a beat of silence. You can almost feel the heavy gaze their silent captain turns on Gaz, prompting him to elaborate, "She ran. Not very fast. When I caught up, she tried bite me so I headbutted her a little."

"A little!?" Johnny cries, but is cut off by a gruff scoff.

"No way to treat our new guest, Kyle. Go on, make it up to her. Bring her out here."

You expect something dramatic, like a flood of blinding light or strong hands reaching in to yank you out. Instead, when the panel is pulled back, the indirect light from the building is mostly blocked by the row of bodies in front of you, and Gaz squats off to the side, body language friendly and inviting despite the coldness you can feel radiating from him. This man hates you, you can feel it. You remember how he wanted to kill you, wish you could tell him the feeling was mutual. Rather, you stare at him loathingly until he tires of your inaction, leans in to grab you by the zip ties that bind your feet and cuts them with a knife you didn't even see him pull. When he grabs your wrists and pulls, you resist as much as you're able but in the end you're no match and he pulls you from your hideaway with little more than a grunt of pain and annoyance when you elbow him in the ribs.

"Feisty one, is she?" the captain's low growl observes and you turn to the newcomer with fury in your eyes which stalls out when you take him in properly for the first time.

You're disappointed to discover he's not as old as you'd been expecting. Nowhere near, in fact. Mid forties most likely, early fifties at absolute most. And densely built enough to speak of a physicality far younger. None of them were small, but the captain still managed to look big among them - nearly as tall as Simon and just as broad as Johnny, though it looked a little leaner on him given his height. You think the worst part about him is how genial he looks. Like Gaz, he's a brand of handsome that comes with charm and approachability, and you wonder how long it will take for that facade to crack like Gaz's did. Worse, if it ever will.

Certainly, his voice is disarmingly sweet when he greets you, coos and calls you a dove. "Weren't lying were they, love? Did a number on the poor girl, Ghost."

Simon - Ghost? - grunts in acknowledgement, motions for you to step closer. You don't, of course, and get a sharp shove from Gaz which sends you stumbling toward the larger men, caught by a firm hand on your bad shoulder. You yelp, breath heaving behind your gag as Cap adjusts his grip, studying you by your hip instead as his eyes dart to Simon.

"Shoulder. Maybe collar bone. Happened when she flipped her car." When you flipped it. Right.

The older man tuts dissapprovingly. You try to swat his hands away but stumble without his support. He ignores you anyway, hand returning easily while the other reaches up to carefully grip the edge of the duct tape. "Can't be easy to breathe in there, can it doll? Not with that poor nose. Let's get this off, shall we? Easy," he soothes, voice a low pur. His task hurts like hell anyway, the sticky strip pulling your tender, swollen skin. He's gentle about it at least, murmuring sympathetically when you can't contain your whimpers. You don't judge yourself too harshly when a few tears slip through, but do very much so when his thumbing them away twists your stomach unexpectedly. 

It's just because you haven't seen tenderness all night, you reason, and resolve yourself against him, even as he removes the gag with utmost delicacy.

"That better, dove?" he asks when your breaths come quicker, deeper. It's like resurfacing after being submerged for too long, clarity coming to you like a cold breeze on soaked skin: this is a calm meant to put you at ease, but you will die here if you become complacent.

So when Cap tells you to call him John and asks what your name is, you spit at him, blood and mucus staining his shoes.

The boys go quiet, like a record scratch moment in an old b-movie. You stare up at John defiantly, waiting for him to scream at you, hit you - anything.

Instead, he just pulls a pocket knife from his pants, grabs your bindings when you go to flinch away. "You've had a long day, love," he starts as he slips the thin blade between your wrists. Your skin is tender there, rubbed raw from the tight binds. The cool blade feels sharp despite the care he takes to aim the edge away from you, never once letting it touch your skin. "You've had a long day, so I'm going to let you get away with that this time." When he pulls against the zip ties, they cut into your skin briefly before giving with a sharp twang. He pulls one of your wrists into his free hand, rubs the raw skin there with a calloused palm before taking the other wrist in his grasp and giving it the same treatment. "But the next time you misbehave will not go well for you. Understood?"

Of course, you don't listen. Fuck this guy for real, you figure. What's the worst he can do? Kill you?

This time, when you go to spit at him, he catches it against his palm, wide hand slapping over your mouth so hard you're breifly concerned for your good cheek. You gasp in shock and pain, nearly choking on your own spit. John steps closer, one boot knocking your foot wide to let himself between your legs. He's so close, if he moved his palm you'd be breathing the same air.

As it stands, you can barely breathe at all, nose flush against the fat side of his hand. His own breath fans across your skin, heavy and hot as a bellows. The quality of it is thick, humid. You're glad you can't smell anything because it feels like it reeks. 

"Simon, she give you a name?"

Ghost's uncomfortable movement is obvious in its silence. "Took to calling 'er Betty."

"Betty," John repeats, lips curling in amusement. "Like an old timey, proper little wife. That you, pet?" You wanna shake your head, fear for your sinus cavity if you do. "Not yet, eh? Gonna have to train you up first. Ease you into it." As if in demonstration, his body sags into your own, presence oppressive. "That's okay, pet. We'll start you off easy. Get you nice and clean, get you fed. In the morning, Kyle will help with your injuries and when you feel more like a proper lady, we'll try again, hm?"

You can't say anything, so you don't.

"But in the meantime, I can't let that kind of behavior go unchecked. Boys," he calls, eyes still boring into you. "Which one of you wants to help our guest clean up?"

The general din of excitement makes you flinch, eyes going wide as if pleading with the man who holds you so cruelly will do any good. When Johnny suggests they play rock paper scissors to decide who gets the honors, it's suddenly, belatedly clear to you that your murder would almost be a kindness. No, the worst thing this man could do for you would be to keep you. John sees it the moment you realize this. His grip eases, eyes softening in some gross perversion of kindness. He strokes your cheek soothingly when Simon goes out in the first round, smiles condescendingly when you flinch at Johnny's crow of victory. John tuts at you, but says no more as he turns you toward the Scot.

"All yours, Soap," he rumbles, pushing you not ungently toward the other man. "Spic and span, you hear?"

"Aye, sir. Thank ye, sir." Johnny's hands are much harsher than John's when he guides you from the trailer, giving you no sympathy when you flinch under the harsh warehouse lighting. You try to take stock of your surroundings as you're pulled along: spare, dusty racking; a forklift in need of repair. There are multiple loading docks, most of the viewports obscured by backed up trucks. One sits vacant and you briefly wonder if there's even more of these monsters waiting in the wings before you're pulled past a dank little office. You catch sight of outdated equipment - a rolodex, a CB - but it's the shadow boxes full of military honors that your eyes lock on the longest.

Of fucking course.

The door Johnny leads you out through is tucked off the side of the building. You stumble when he pulls you down through the door, feet unsteady where they kick up dirt. It's cold outside, colder than it had been in the dankness of the trailer. You can't help but shiver, bite your tongue as best you can when your companion takes that as invitation to draw you in close and rub a big, solid hand up your arm. 

"We'll have ye warmed up in no time, lass," he promises, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. This man murdered your friend with a crowbar and dragged her around like a slaughtered animal. You expect no kindness from him. 

He orders you to strip before turning to a small station built into the side of the warehouse. You do not strip, electing instead to take off running in the opposite direction, cursing as the gravel churns loudly under your shoes. Soap swears, his own heavy boots following at a pace you didn't think his burly body capable of. Your breaths burn your chest, each pull coming labored in your blind panic but you refuse to slow or relent, ignoring the flaming pain in your shoulder every time you swing your arm forward for propulsion.

Well, you ignore it until the ground comes tilting up to meet you, your body crushed beneath the considerable weight of one grunting, cursing Scot. You sob at the pain, or maybe the fear - hard to tell. When he levers himself off you, he wastes no time grabbing your ankle as he stands up, towering over you. If you were capable of stringing two thoughts together, you'd wonder if this was the last thing Ash saw: pale blue eyes gleaming in the low light, the cruelty that twists his face. Instead you wonder how likely your arm is to maintain full mobility after a night like this. 

Not very, you decide, sobbing in pain as he drags you back to the warehouse. He's muttering something above you, but you can't hear him over your own cries. When you kick at him futilely, he yanks on your ankle until you fear for it and you don't try it again. Not even when he gets you where he wants you, back under the wan outdoor lighting of the station he'd turned to before, crouching down next to you to rip at your shoelaces.

"Please, don't," you murmur instead, fear churning in your belly as he continues to strip you. You'd known it would come to this, known the moment the captain had mentioned something about a wife. It doesn't make it easier, doesn't make the prospect of the gritty sand underneath you any more comfortable, or your repulsion for the man above you any less sharp. "Please, please, please let me go. I could -."

"What? Suck me off?" Soap laughs harshly, "Think ah'm gonnae ge' tha' anyway, hen."

You were going to say keep your mouth shut, but you suppose that never works anyway.

The sound you make when he pulls your pants off is wretched, but the shriek he earns when he pulls a knife on you is worse. His laugh is mean, reveling in your fear for a moment before cutting your shirt from you with one deft movement. He's pulling you to your feet before you can really process why and shoving you against the metal siding of the warehouse.

"Stay there," he warns and you're unsure if his tone or the throb in your shoulder is a more effective threat. When he walks back toward the station he'd been after earlier, your gaze turns to follow until you catch sight of your own shoulder at the bottom of your field of view and you draw short, taking in the severe swelling there. You prod at the edges of the mottling, wincing at your own ministrations. 

Absorbed in your own injuries, you don't notice when Soap turns on the spigot, or when he aims the nozzle of the high pressure hose at you. He calls for you to hold your breath, but gives you no more time than that which is necessary to look up, confused, before he's spraying you down.

It's freezing, the flow hard enough to bruise where it jets against the fatty bits of you; feels like it might sheer straight through hide where your skin thins around joints. You gasp, get a mouthful of aerated hose water. Spluttering, you try blocking the stream with your hands despite it feeling like your palms are being struck by a thousand rulers.

"S'wha' we use tae wash the trucks!" Soap calls, cackling loud enough to be heard over the spray that engulfs you. You can't get away from it no matter how much you fold into yourself, catching the jet alternatingly on your hip, your ribs, your ass. It does a better job of indexing your injuries than you did, the blooms of pain where you accidentally turn a bruise toward it letting you know that the hip which took the brunt of the collision is sore, that there's a spot on your good shoulder where Gaz tackled you which smarts. Your knees and elbows are all scuffed up, dirt grinding in before being stripped away. You feel like you're being sandpapered down; buffed until you're gleaming despite knowing how the dirt he kicks up clings to your skin wherever the hose isn't actively being pointed.

Soap keeps it up for another minute or so, only turning it off when your shaking gets so bad you think you're like to fall apart. "Quit yer whinging," he warns, creeping closer as he adjusts the nozzle to another setting. "Jes' havin' a laugh, bonnie, no need tae get all bent outta shape."

You want to tell him you're not laughing, but a small voice in your head says you should be grateful he didn't turn that hose on your face, so you keep quiet to prevent him getting any ideas.

When he's close enough to touch, Soap reaches out and grabs your wrist, spraying your pebbled skin down with a softer shower of water that would set you at ease, if not for how cold it is. From your arm, the stream moves up over your head, mussing your hair beyond recognition before trickling down your battered face. Here, the cold water feels good against heated skin and despite yourself, you heave a sigh of relief, tilting slightly into the unexpected relief. 

"Like tha' hen?" he asks, and you hesitate briefly, wondering how much satisfaction you want to give him. He doesn't give you a chance to decide, ruining your brief moment of reprieve by reaching out and tweaking one hard nipple.

You squawk, swatting at him. Johnny laughs long and loud, letting the stream from the hose fall dead as he watches you fume, shaking.

"Look like one ah them wee doggies, lass," he chuckles, "angry cause ye cannae even bite properly." The bastard flicks your cheek, feigning a sympathetic coo when you flinch away. "Tha's righ', bonnie, nothin' ye can do tae fight back," he murmurs, gliding his fingertips against your cheek in a move he probably thinks is soothing. "Ye jes' remember tha', eh? Might keep you alive."

You swallow back the lump in your throat, eyes boring a hole into his shoulder because you can't stand to look him in his terribly cold eyes. When Johnny moves again, his touches are back to the easy, soft caresses from before as he hoses you down. He's surprisingly good at it, despite being armed with only a shammy and a gnarly looking bar of soap. At least he knows to avoid your hair once he realizes he'll need conditioner. That damage is already done, but you appreciate him not dragging his fucking fingers through it on top of everything else. You try taking the soap from him once but he just tuts at you warningly so you go back to shivering, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to preserve body heat and keep yourself marginally modest. You can't decide if he's being obstinately particular just to torment you longer or if he's genuinely just like this until he raises your good arm above your head and finds your armpit overgrown.

He grins, sending you a delightfully scandalized look. "See Ghost chose well. Cap's gonnae love ye," he chuckles, and you feel your panic heighten when you think of the threatening older man again. Soap notices. "No need tae worry, hen. You jes' keep bein' good fer us and Cap'll be good tae ye."

For some reason, you don't trust this man's definition of being treated well.

After getting you all washed up, Johnny marches you back into the warehouse where the other men gather around a small, dingy breakroom table pecking at microwaved burritos. They're laughing uproariously as you arrive, Gaz talking animatedly about a loading mishap back in Arizona. The noise drifts off when they spot you, eying you over like a scrap of meat. There's no covering everything and despite yourself, you're almost grateful when John stands, bringing you a blanket he had folded on the seat beside himself. 

"Feeling better, doll?" he asks, patting you dry with a gentleness you didn't expect from the big man. He frowns at the swelling of your shoulder, eyes darting between you and it with an exaggerated level of concern that makes you want to hurl.

You avoid his gaze, your own flickering around the room as you ignore John, trying to gather your resolve enough to appease him. It's a struggle until your eyes find Simon's, apathetic as always despite the disapproving set of his scarred mouth. 

"Yes, sir," you murmur, watching raptly as Simon disguises a quick nod as a glance at his plate. Your heart rate picks up, an impossible tendril of hope slithering up your aorta when John hums contentedly at your words.

"That's a girl, love," he starts, warm palm falling heavy on your back as he starts to guide you back through the warehouse. "Gaz, bring the soup. You're hungry, right pet?"

You are, but Gaz doesn't wait for confirmation, falling in stride as John guides you toward the quaint office you'd caught a glimpse of earlier.

"Now, one day, you'll be able to stay up here with us," John promises, gesturing magnanimously across the dingy warehouse as if it contained all the gold of El Dorado within its rickety racking. "But until then, we're going to have to keep you below." 

Gait faltering, you glance up at the older man fearfully but he pays you no mind at all. "Don't worry honey, only temporary. And I'll have the boys visit you daily to keep you nice and stimulated, hm? Gaz," he barks before you can reflect too much on his choice of words. Kyle, evidently knowing exactly what's expected of him, places the soup bowl he's been carrying on the cluttered desk before moving some chairs, rolling the rug back enough to reveal a cutaway door in the cement slab.

You still, every muscle in your body tensing up when John tries to coax you along. "'S'not so bad, sweetheart, I promise. Come look, yeah? Think you'll have a nice little time if you just give it a try."

Like hell you'll give it a try, knees locking up so tight you look like a GI Joe when John guides you first down the stairs. It's cool, the descent marked by the wet gradient of the cement slab as you pass further underground. It's deeper than you'd expect, the dug dirt bottom damp under your feet when you alight on the landing. There's a short hall ahead, braced by rotted-looking timber. A lone door on the opposite end, braced on one side with a long line of bolts and locks. A single light hangs from the short ceiling, low enough you could smack your forehead off of it if you're not careful. 

"Had Simon come down while you were out, get it nice and ready for you," John brags. You doubt the room on the other side of that door could be made live-in ready even if Simon had been given three years to work on it, but you know better than to say as much. 

This time, when John prods you forward, your legs don't obey. "CanIsleepwithyou?" you blurt, a last ditch effort you're not sure you want him to accept.

But John just chuckles. "Eager, eh pet? Don't worry, you'll earn that right soon enough. Now go on, I'm sure you'd like some nice new clothes to put on, hm?"

Damn him, but you do, so you slink forward, ducking under the hanging light as you pass. The door creaks when you pull it open, weight heavy despite how meager it looks. It feels solid, unbreakable, and you notice quickly that you won't be able to barricade it if you have to pull it open. John does not notice your hesitance, following you into the room with a proud little smirk on his mustached face.

"Well, what do you think?" 

Not much. The floor isn't finished, just cold tile pressed into the dirt. The walls and ceilings are, though, and you briefly feel grateful for it until the batting on the door registers and you realize it's for soundproofing purposes. There's a bed in the corner, larger than you need yourself and made up in cutesy sheets with a strawberry motif. A pile of heavy quilts sits folded at the foot and despite yourself, your fingers twitch eagerly at the prospect of sleeping soon, warm and snug under all that weight. 

"We've got some clothes for you here," John continues. You get the feeling he doesn't need a lot of input so you stand there quietly as he opens a foot locker for you, tattered and olive green. Inside sit two neat stacks of clothes, battered looking but approximately the right size. You remember Johnny's comment about the Captain liking your pits and wonder if they always bring him back a certain type.

And if so, where they are.

"G'on love, pick out something you like," John leers, and you realize you won't be able to get away with waiting until he and Kyle leave to get dressed. 

There's a marked efficiency to your movements. Grabbing the first top you see, you briefly check the tag before doing the same with the bottoms at the top of the pile. Close enough for rock and roll, you figure, dropping your blanket to the cold floor and pulling the clothes onto yourself as quickly as possible. Kyle's eyes are heavy, John's heavier. Your skin crawls, the goosebumps which never really went away after your little bath returning with a vengeance. To your immense displeasure, John has to help you pull your bad arm through the sleeve and he tuts sympathetically when you whine.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll bring you down some button ups tomorrow, yeah? You nod when he pauses too long, realizing you're not going to be let off the hook without a proper answer. You creep toward the bed when he hums in acknowledgement, but he tuts in warning again, nodding toward a little desk shoved off to the side of the room. You sit obediently, thanking him with a little murmur when he ferries the bowl of soup from Gaz to you. He hovers, watching raptly until you bring a spoonful of the room temperature meal to your mouth. 

"Good, right?" he asks, before you can even get a proper taste of it. 

You take your time swallowing, playing up the pain in your cheek as you try to suss out a good response. It's just microwaved soup as far as you can tell, but you figure saying as much won't garner you any favors. Instead, you hum appreciatively and shovel in another bite before John can ask you any more questions.

It works, mostly. John takes a quick lap around the room instead of standing over you, sighing now and again at whatever he finds while Gaz continues to stand in the doorway, evidently unamused. 

"It needs work, I'll give you that," John eventually concedes as you slurp at your meal. You hadn't realized how hungry you were until that sweet sweet MSG hit your tongue. "It needs work, but if you're good, we can spend some time down here fixing it up for you. Would you like that?"

You stall, spooning through some of the chunkier bits at the bottom of your bowl. It was kind of them to give you soup, you registered belatedly. Solid foods would have undoubtedly fucked up your mouth. Instead of answering, you ask John what would happen if you were to be bad and watch as his genial nature flips like a switch.

"Got a couple of news articles upstairs if you'd like to read 'em and find out."

Next>>

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the mind flayer

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?” “Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh. “Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Summary: jonathan is back and has a lot of questions and you have even more for him, the gang gets back together and ties will to a chair, you tell the kid a story to distract him from his demons, steve is a confused mess but at least youre with him, and someone makes a surprise appearance (her name rhymes with shell).

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, talk of death and grief, violence and blood

Words: 12.1k

Before you swing in: long time no see ! lots has happened, and this chapter was a pain for so many reasons, but shes here and i love her and i so sincerely hope yall enjoy :)

-

Stumbling blindly through dark woods while holding your bloodied ribcage has never been your favorite activity. Neither is following after a bunch of Demodogs to probably once again sacrifice your life to save others, yet here you are.

Steve has a gentle hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you navigate the woods. Dustin is to your left, scanning for anything that could possibly trip you as the three of you walk in a line. Lucas and Max follow, both of whom watch you with weary eyes.

Sure, you probably don’t look too good, but honestly. You’ve been objectively worse.

“You’re positive that was Dart?” Lucas asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Dustin sighs next to you, kicking at a twig in your way. “He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt.”

“Why do you have his butt memorized?” You mumble under your breath, which Steve chuckles at.

Max shakes her head. “But he was tiny two days ago.”

“Well, he’s molted three times already.” Dustin kicks at another twig, this time with more anger behind it. He’s on edge, and you know he’s worried that somehow Lucas will figure out that he kept Dart all this time.

You’d help the kid, but he dug his own grave.

“Malted?” Steve asks, looking over to you to see if you’re hearing what he’s hearing.

“No, buddy.” You shake your head at him, slightly endeared by the confusion on his face.

“Molted,” your brother clarifies. “Shed his skin to make room for growth, like hornworms.”

“I don’t think Steve knows what hornworms are, Dustin.”

The boy sighs, knowing you’re right, and continues to walk.

Max, however, won’t let the topic go. “When’s he gonna molt again?”

“It's gotta be soon.” Dustin responds, now looking around tiredly. He doesn’t have to tell you, but you saw how quickly Dart grew overnight; he’s grown at an alarming rate. “When he does he’ll be fully grown, or close to it.”

“And so will his friends,” you say grimly.

It’s quiet for a moment after that, your words unnerving the group. Everyone but Max had to deal with a fully grown Demogorgon last year, and none of you have forgotten how terrifying it had been. You all still have scars from it, both metaphorically and physically.

After a minute or so, Steve tries to lighten up the situation. “Well, at least there isn’t another cat for them to eat–”

“Steve–” But you’re too late, Lucas has already picked up on what the teen is saying.

The boy shoves past you and whips around to face Dustin, angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “Wait, a cat? Dart ate a cat?”

“No, what? No!” Your brother is a terrible liar.

“What are you talking about? He ate Mews–” Your elbow digs into Steve’s side, causing him to hunch over and wheeze. “Shit.”

You force Steve’s head up so that he looks at you while you forcefully whisper, “Stop. Talking.”

“Mews? Who’s Mews?”

You turn to Max. “It’s nothing–”

“It’s their cat,” Steve wheezes out, still not at all understanding the situation.

“Steve!” You and Dustin screech at the same time. God, maybe it does make sense that he’s barely graduating high school.

“I knew it! You kept him!” Lucas shouts at Dustin, before turning to you with hurt in his eyes. “And you let him hide it from the party?”

You wince. “I had a suspicion, but by the time I found out it had already been too late and–”

“He missed me. He wanted to come home… and Y/N just happened to not know about it for a while.” Dustin interrupts, trying to appease his friend, but it doesn’t work.

“Bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a Demogorgon, okay?”

“Oh, so now you admit it?”

You try to intervene, you’ve always hated when the boys fight. “Listen, what’s done is done and it’s too late to be angry now.”

Lucas scoffs. “I crawled into a dumpster to find Dart!”

“And that was a conscious decision that you made–”

“Guys!” Max steps in. “Who cares? We have to go.”

“I care!” Lucas faces Dustin again. “You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!” You’ve never heard anger like this come out from Dustin. It isn’t an anger that spills over from a regular argument. Your eyes flicker to Max and you know that the anger is one that stems from hurt.

You remember how excited Dustin had been to tell you about his crush on the girl. Now, after she came here with Lucas, you fear you may have to have a code blue soon with your brother about young love and heartbreak. Unrequited crushes suck.

The kids all begin to scream at one another and you’re too tired to try and intervene again. Technically, they’re all right. Lucas shouldn’t have told Max everything, Dustin shouldn’t have hid Dart, and both boys shouldn’t continuously treat Max like some weird outsider.

As they argue, Steve rubs small circles in your back, sensing how exhausted you are. While your bleeding may have stopped, you still feel woozy from the blood loss and could really go for some water and food right now.

“They’ll figure it out,” he assures you, breath warm against your ear, and all you can do is sigh.

You’re about to tell Steve that maybe you should all walk back home, it’s late and the kids are all too mad at one another to be of any help, but then you hear screeching coming from the distance.

You both freeze.

Slowly, the two of you step away from the kids to follow after the sound. They’re too busy arguing to notice, but the screeching continues to grow louder and you share a look with Steve. This isn’t good.

“Hey guys?” Steve calls towards the kids, hand never leaving your back.

The kids continue to argue, ignoring him, and you bring your fingers to your lips and let out a high pitched whistle. “Idiots!” Lucas, Dustin, and Max all go quiet, looking over at you. More screeches fill the silence, and you tilt your head towards the sound. “Hear that? Shall we continue to fight or are we done here?”

Steve flashes his light towards the source of the sound and beckons for the kids to follow. You stay behind, both of you silently agreeing that he’ll lead and you’ll make sure everyone is safe. Lucas and Dustin immediately follow, but Max lingers.

“Hey, you comin’?” You ask, motioning towards where the boys have all gone.

“Why are we headed towards the sound?”

“Because it’s what we do,” you shrug. “Welcome to the party.”

Max blinks at you, in disbelief, and it breaks your heart that she has to come to terms with all of this. Taking the risk, you reach towards her hand, offering her time to pull away, but she doesn’t. She lets you grab her hand and you squeeze it, giving her a soft smile. “I’m right here.”

The girl exhales, still guarded, yet she finally nods at your words. She seems to believe you, which you’re thankful for, and together the two of you follow after the others. The five of you approach the overlook, all of Hawkins visible. There’s a layer of thick fog covering the town, the screeches ominous as the town is blanketed.

“I don’t see him,” Dustin mumbles next to you, though he slowly links his fingers through yours, quietly confessing to you that he’s scared.

You squeeze his hand. “Lucas, do you think your binoculars can see that far?”

The boy brings them up to his eyes, and within a few seconds he seems to have spotted the source. He swallows, lowers the binoculars, and says, “It’s the lab.”

“They’re going back home.” You whisper, feeling defeated more than anything else. It somehow always comes back to that fucking lab. Will’s episodes, Mike’s silence, Nancy and Jonathan taking the burden of bringing the entire lab down themselves.

You now understand the immense anger Nancy felt that day during lunch, when you had all been at Jonathan’s car and she created her genius plan. How badly she wanted to make the assholes pay for what they did to Hawkins. To Will. To Barb. To sweet El.

“We have to follow.” You say, an edge to your voice. Your side sears with pain, your ankle sending phantom pains up your leg. Dustin clings onto your hand like his life depends on it. You’re sick of suffering the consequences that Hawkin’s Lab has brought upon itself.

You begin to walk down the overlook, steps slow and careful, and while the kids glance uncertainly at one another, Steve doesn’t hesitate to follow after you. –

As you approach the gate to the lab, you see a car with headlights parked in front of it. Two figures stand at the edge of the forest line, watching.

Other people are here.

You bring your knives out and flick the handle so that the blades extend. Steve stands next to you, his own bat raised after seeing your fear, and you nod at one another to slowly begin approaching.

“Hello?” One of the figures shouts, their voice oddly familiar.

You stop.

“Who’s there?” The voice shouts again, and this time you recognize it.

It’s Jonathan.

Immediately you start to run, damning the pain in your side, and when you break through the treeline and see Jonathan standing there with Nancy, both of them safe and sound, you start to run even faster.

When Jonathan sees that it’s you, he starts to run as well and within seconds the two of you are a tangle of arms and limbs. He hugs you fiercely, his cologne familiar and you hadn’t known how homesick you were until you felt his arms around you.

“Bug,” Jonathan exhales with relief, squeezing you even tighter. He brings a hand to your hair and cradles your head, his fingers sure and strong and familiar as always. You bury your face in his neck, feeling all the pain and exhaustion from today begin to dissipate.

Nancy walks over and lays a hand on your arm as you’re still wrapped around Jonathan. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” you sniff, you’re not sure why you’re crying. “God, I’ve had the weirdest two days of my life–”

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy suddenly say at the same time.

You pull away from your friend and let out a chuckle. Steve and the kids have now joined, confusion on all of their faces. “Like I said, it’s been a weird few days.”

“Nancy?” Steve walks over, his eyes going back and forth between you and the girl. He feels an overwhelming mixture of emotions overtake him. He notices the way Jonathan’s arm is still wrapped around you as you stand close to his side, and he notices the way Nancy avoids his eyes. Something burns within his chest.

“Jonathan?” Dustin narrows his eyes at the boy, and you can’t help but laugh.

Jonathan and Nancy approach the others and you slowly follow, taking your time. Nancy reaches Steve first. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve retorts.

“We’re looking for Mike and Will.”

You grab Nancy’s jacket. “Are they okay? Did something happen?”

“They’re not in there, are they?” Dustin motions towards the lab, fear in his voice.

Nancy lowers her voice. “We’re not sure.”

Jonathan senses there’s something else going on. “Why?”

Right on cue, the Demodogs begin to screech from the lab. Next to you, you feel Jonathan stiffen with fear. You know, without having to ask, that his family is stuck inside the lab. Suddenly the gash in your side stings in pain and you clutch at it and let out a wince. Hearing this, Jonathan finally realizes that you’re covered in blood.

“Oh my god,” his hands fall to your side as he scans for any other injuries. “You’re bleeding, oh my god.”

“I’m okay–”

“Fuck, bug. It looks bad–”

“Had a minor setback, we’re all good now though.”

Jonathan shakes his head at you, his eyes dripping with guilt; you know he’s already placed the blame upon himself long before he speaks. “I should’ve been there. I knew something was wrong when you didn’t call, and then Nance and I came back to my home being wrecked and you weren’t at your place and I was worried sick and thought you were dead–”

You grab his hands, forcing him to slow down and breathe. “Hey, look at me.” Slowly, his eyes meet yours. “I’m okay, bee. I had to protect the kids, and I had Steve. I’m right here.”

Jonathan looks over at Steve, who is stuck in some argument between Nancy and the kids, and he lets out a tired laugh. He can’t believe that he’s here right now, tired and delirious from a long trip with Nancy as you hold his hands, your own blood covering them, while Steve spares you worried glances. “Friends with him again, then?”

“It was inevitable.” You sigh, knowing how heavy your words are. Truly, it was inevitable. He’s too much like you, your wounds a matching pair, and you never stood a chance against the inevitability. He’s an extension of you now, you can no longer deny this.

“Are you really okay, though?” Jonathan asks you, still concerned about how much blood is on you. He feels this tug within him, pulling at his chest to encase you within his arms and to never, ever let you out of his sight again.

There’s still a slight limp in your step that Jonathan sees when he thinks you aren’t looking, the scar on your upper arm is harsh against the smooth skin he’s come to memorize, disrupting the topography of your body. Now, you’ve once again gotten hurt because of him. Your favorite cardigan is ripped and bloodied and Jonathan knows it’s one more scar he’s inexplicably given you.

The scars may fade, but he knows he’ll never be able to forgive himself. It’s the same heavy weight you feel within yourself over Will’s disappearance.

You notice that Jonathan’s eyes have glazed over in despair and you kiss his knuckles, bringing him back to you. “I promise I am.”

He nods, though he still looks unsure, but he pulls you in again for another hug. For a moment, everything is still. It reminds you of when you had been in Jonathan’s car last Christmas as he drove you home, the memories between you had gone still. You close your eyes, like you had last year, and for a moment nothing has changed.

“The power’s back!” Nancy exclaims, effectively shutting everyone up about who has seen what when.

You pull away from Jonathan. The urgence in her voice reminds you that everything has changed. There’s a scar on your upper arm that now has a matching scar on your ribcage. Jonathan has bags underneath his eyes that seem like they'll never go away.

You look away from him and look over at the kids and see, in Dustin’s and Lucas’ faces, the familiar fear and acceptance that they’re inevitably in danger. Steve catches your eye and he nods, indicating that whatever happens next, he’s ready whenever you are.

The seven of you quickly make your way back towards the lab’s gate, and Jonathan is the first to get there with you following close behind. The two of you stand in the patrol panel, Jonathan aggressively hitting the button designated for opening the gate, but nothing seems to be happening.

Suddenly Dustin barges in, roughly shoving past Jonathan and mumbling a soft sorry to you.

“Let me try.” Jonathan doesn’t move, which only aggravates your brother further and he flings the teen back. “Let me try, Jonathan!”

Jonathan looks at you incredulously, still having no idea why Dustin seems to suddenly hate him, and you stifle a laugh as you watch the boy repeatedly hit the button while nothing happens.

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin groans, still trying and failing to open the gate.

“Move over,” you shoulder past the kid and start pressing the button yourself. “It probably just doesn’t like you guys.”

Dustin and Jonathan both scoff at you, but you ignore them as you continue to press the button. You were mostly doing it to distract yourself, give your anxious mind something to do, but after a simple few taps, the gates unlock.

You cheer, immensely happy with yourself. “I did it! You guys just really do just suck!”

Jonathan shakes his head at you but offers his hand for you to high five, which you gladly do. As for your brother, he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation. You ignore the kid and follow Jonathan outside to join the others.

Once the gates have fully opened, you, Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve all begin speaking at once.

“I’ll go,” you all say in unison.

The kids all stare at one another, wondering how this will go. It didn’t escape their notice that Jonathan and Nancy were alone together, and that Steve’s worry over you has strings attached to unspoken truths.

They may be young, but they can sense the tension between you and the teens pretty easily.

“No, someone has to stay with the kids.” Nancy reasons, looking over at Jonathan to back her up, and his eyes draw to hers naturally.

You see this, and you wonder when they became such a cohesive team.

“Bug, what are you thinking?” He asks, knowing that ultimately it’s your call. When it comes to the kids, you’re the one to turn to.

You bite your lip, unsure. Max, Lucas, and Dustin all stare at you, and you know the two boys want you to stay with them. They’ve been through hell tonight, so have you, but then you think about whatever has happened in the lab to Will and Mike.

Sighing, you walk over to Jonathan. “Nance is right. I’ll stay behind with Steve while you and her drive to the lab. They’ll need all the help they can get, and I’m currently in no condition to fight.”

Jonathan’s eyes once again fall to your wrapped side, uncertain if you’ll be safe enough out here. “You sure?”

“I’m sure, bee.” You kiss his cheek, fucking terrified something will go wrong. The lab is crawling with Demodogs. “Promise you’ll be careful?”

“Always,” he cups your face and brings his forehead to yours. “I’ll come back.”

You relish in the warmth and let out a shaky exhale. “Go get Will.”

The moment between you two is intimate; everyone around you looks away. Nancy stares down at her feet while Steve clenches his jaw.

After a few more seconds, you finally release yourself from Jonathan’s hold and turn towards Nancy. “That goes for you as well, Wheeler. Stay safe.”

She nods at you, spares Steve one last glance, and then follows after Jonathan into the car. Within seconds, they speed off down the road, towards Hawkin’s Lab as more Demodogs screech in the distance.

“Well that was awkward.” Max breaks the silence. “Sensing there’s a lot of history there.”

You snort, admiring the girl’s wit, and tiredly lean against the gate’s post. “Still have a lot to catch up on, Max.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just gently leans next to you against his own post and flips his flashlight in his hand.

Dustin starts to pace while Lucas stares at the sky, as if willing away every problem from the day, which you want to do yourself. However, your best friend is currently very close to a death lab that Will and Mike are inexplicably trapped in.

You try to calm your breathing, knowing it’s no use getting yourself worked up, but you’re terrified. Steve sees your unease and does his best to comfort you. “Hey, they’ll be okay. Jonathan is a smart guy and Nancy is tough as hell.”

Hearing Nancy’s name coming out of his mouth makes you realize that you haven’t asked him how he’s feeling about all of this, which makes you feel even shittier. He confessed to you last night how he still loves her, and here you are, worried about your friend who the guy’s ex girlfriend showed up with.

“Are you okay?” You ask him softly, worried you’ll scare him away.

Steve doesn’t ask what you mean; he knows and lets out a dry laugh. “Not the most ideal situation.”

You’re about to say more, but something seems to catch Max’s attention. “Guys?”

You look towards where she’s pointing and you hear the faint sounds of tires squealing against concrete. The same sound Billy’s car had made in the school parking lot days ago. As you piece this together, headlights light up the gate and the honking starts.

Immediately you and Steve rush over to the kids and push them away, narrowly avoiding being hit. As soon as the road is cleared, Hopper’s familiar truck brakes in front of you.

“Let’s go,” the man gruffs out, and you’ve never been happier to see that obnoxious cop’s face.

Steve runs over to the passenger door and holds it open while you usher the kids to go inside. “Come on, let’s go! Go, go, go!”

One by one you get the kids seated in the truck, and once you and Steve make sure they’re in safely, he motions for you to go next before he climbs inside and slams the door shut. You end up squished up front, in between Hopper and Steve.

“Drive!” You scream, and Hopper doesn’t need to be told twice before he stomps on the gas and follows after Jonathan’s car.

It’s silent for a few minutes as everyone steadies their breathing, processing what’s just happened. You rub at your side, the rough movements from earlier having upset the wound. Hopper notices this and raises an eyebrow at you. “Lose a fight?”

“Mhm,” you see that he’s dressed in hospital scrubs and raise your own eyebrows. “Got checked into a psych ward?”

Hopper lets out a short laugh and you can see the exhaustion behind his eyes, but he plays along and you’re grateful for it. “Yeah, figured it was time.”

–

The Byers’ home is a disaster when you walk in. The walls are covered with pictures drawn by Will, a map that he somehow came to piece together, of an entire underground tunnel system that the Demodogs now reside in.

You sit on the ground next to Will, who has been placed on the couch while he’s still unconscious, and you hold his cold, limp hand as Jonathan kneels next to the boy and strokes his hair.

“I’m sorry, bud.” He whispers, voice breaking. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should have been there.”

You grab Jonathan’s own hand. “He wouldn’t blame you. You couldn’t have known.”

Nancy places a hand on his shoulder as she watches over him, a certain concern in her eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. She’s always been the most guarded out of the three of you, but now she’s rubbing comforting circles into Jonathan’s back; you’ve never seen her so open before, so affectionate with someone.

You noticed how much closer they seemed earlier at the lab, how the tension between them now appears to be gone. You know that something happened on their spy adventure, you know they’d been alone together, probably gotten a motel room, even. Your stomach twists at the thought, but Will’s cold hand is a reminder that none of that matters right now. Like last year, he comes first.

“We’ll figure it out, bee. We always do.” You kiss Jonathan’s cheek, not knowing how many more times you’ll be able to do so, and you try to memorize how his face feels pressed against yours, the way your nose buries into his skin and the way he leans into the kiss each and every time.

Jonathan sniffles and thanks you, pulling you into his side as he continues to stroke Will’s hair. Nancy remains standing, and when you look up to offer her to sit next to you, you finally notice Steve standing in the corner, watching.

He’s holding himself as he watches the three of you and, despite how he tries to hide it, you see Steve wipe at his nose and blink away tears; he’s never looked so small before, and your heart breaks for him as he walks out of the room.

You excuse yourself to follow after him, bypassing Hopper who is angrily trying to contact some government people to alert them about Hawkin’s Lab.

Steve walks into the kitchen and faces the drawings on the wall, his back turned away from everyone in a pathetic attempt to gain some privacy. Slowly, you approach him and stand to his left. You know he senses your presence, but he continues to stare straight ahead.

“You want to talk about it?” You ask, voice low so no one else in the kitchen can hear.

Steve closes his eyes and shakes his head, it’s all of a response he can give you right now. He’s worried that if he tries to speak, he’ll start crying. His worst fear has come true. He’s been replaced.

Tentatively, you grab his hand and bring your lips to his ear. “Can I?”

You feel Steve shiver, his breath is shaky, and though he isn’t quite sure what you’re asking him, he nods anyways.

He will always say yes to you.

The moment Steve nods, you tug at the hand you’re holding and bring his arms around you; he practically melts in your arms. Releasing another shaky breath, he buries his face in your hair and inhales your perfume as if gasping for air. He brings a hand to your hair as he cradles the back of your head, bringing you even closer together.

For the first time in Steve’s life, his mind goes quiet.

You’re aware of everyone else in the room, you know you’ll have to deal with the kids’ nosy questions later, but you don’t care. Steve needs you, and the way he’s clinging onto you as you hug tells you everything you need to know.

He’s barely holding it together, so you discretely shift so that the others can’t see as you attempt to piece him back together with your arms tightening around him and your fingers intertwining through his hair as well.

Your ribs scream in protest as you lean against the boy, but the pain reassures you that you are alive and sharing this pain with someone you’ve come to care deeply about.

“I’m here,” you whisper, feeling Steve’s body shake at the reassurance. “It’s just you and me right now, okay?”

He nods, still too scared to speak. The two of you remain interlocked in the kitchen you grew up in, surrounded by Will’s drawings and memories of early morning breakfasts with Jonathan, and Dustin watches from the kitchen table.

Lucas watches as well and shares a glance with your brother, who can only shake his head and sigh. He knows, sooner or later, that he’ll have to ask you about Steve, he’s never seen you like this before, not even with Jonathan, but for now he leaves you both alone.

When Hopper angrily hangs up the phone, Dustin uses it as an opportunity to distract himself. “They didn’t believe you, did they?”

“We’ll see,” Hopper sighs, tired.

“‘We’ll see’? We can’t just sit here while those things are loose!” Mike exclaims, his foot tapping nervously underneath the table.

The chief sighs again, now spotting you and Steve still holding each other in the corner. “Hey, Henderson and pretty boy, get a room. Mike, we stay here and we wait for help.”

Hearing your name, you finally break apart from Steve and send Hopper an embarrassed glare, clearing your throat. Steve clears his throat as well and takes several steps away from you. His cheeks flaming red.

“Did he call me pretty boy?” Steve whispers to you, but you shush him, instead walking over to Mike, who has now started to tap his foot even more aggressively.

Standing behind the boy, you rub his shoulder, unsure how to help the boy. You know he’s worried about Will and he’s always hated waiting almost as much as you do. At your touch, Mike turns his head to look up at you, and the fire that’s always been in his eyes has died.

You look around the table, it’s quiet. Max is playing with her fingernails, Lucas is staring at the table with tears in his eyes, and Dustin is watching as you try to comfort Mike. All the kids are in their own state of shock and grief. They’re too young for all of this.

Meanwhile, Steve hangs back by the corner, knowing that this is what you do best: you take care of people. He watches as you furrow your brows for a second, a slight quirk he’s picked up about you, and slowly he sees you piece together how to help the kids you love so dearly.

You start with leaning against the table, wedged between Dustin and Mike, and somehow–Steve has always wondered how you do this–you light up the cold room with warmth.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself,” you stroke Mike’s hair, it’s rare that you get to do this, but he remains numb to your touch. “Had I known any of this would happen, I would’ve made you more fudge brownies.”

Though it’s small, almost imperceptible, Mike lets out a tiny huff, a placeholder of a laugh.

At least it’s a start.

You whisper more words to him as Dustin leans against your back, grounded by your presence, and Max watches this with interested yet envious eyes. She still has yet to grow used to your kindness, to the love you share with the boys: a sibling relationship she’s never had before.

As you’re comforting Mike, his eyes wander towards the living room and suddenly he gets up. You watch, curious as to what he’s doing, as he grabs a cube and delicately rolls it around in his hand.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”

At the mention of Bob’s name, you bring Dustin closer to you. With everything that’s happened tonight, the reminder of the man’s death fills you with raw, unfiltered grief. When you arrived at the Byers home and found a distraught Joyce, you knew.

Bob is dead, and he has taken all the kindness he shared with you. He was a sweet man, one who took you in without any question as soon as he started dating Joyce, a man who offered you rides to work and encouraged you to stop by his own job any time. The same man who brought the woman who is like a second mother to you, back to life.

Your heart breaks for Joyce, for Will and Jonathan and all the other kids.

Bob Newby truly was a superhero, everyone he ever interacted with came out a better person because of it. He never left anyone without a smile on their face, and now he’s gone.

Once you’ve managed to swallow down your grief, you voice from the kitchen, “I didn’t know that.”

Mike turns to you. “He petitioned the school to start it and everything, and then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clark learned everything from him.” There’s light in his voice as he approaches the table again, a spark as if the fire is trying to relight itself. “Pretty awesome, right?”

Dustin and Lucas nod, faint smiles on their own faces. “Yeah.”

Mike sets the cube down. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

You agree with him, but how could you possibly accomplish something like that>

“What do you want to do, Mike?” Dustin lifts his head up, frustrated. “The Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max finally speaks up.

You sigh, tired of hearing your brother’s explanation of his made up name. “Please don’t ask–”

“Demogorgon, dog. Demodog.” Your brother explains, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Demodogs. It’s like a compound… It’s like a play on words–”

“Okay!” You and Max say at once, cutting off his spiel.

“I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe…”

You snort at Dustin. “Tell that to my ribcage.”

The boy glares at you and Lucas takes over, reigning you both back in. “But there’s an army now.”

“Precisely,” Dustin sighs in defeat.

Mike, who has been quiet the entire conversation, realizes something. “His army.”

Steve looks around, confused. “What do you mean?”

“His army!” Mike faces everyone, and the fire behind his eyes now fully alive, and you know he’s come up with some genius plan like his sister always does. “Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army too.”

Dustin and Lucas share a glance and seem to be understanding what Mike is saying, but you look to Steve, equally as lost as he is, before Mike runs out the room while the others follow.

“Any idea what that kid is saying?” The teen asks you, but you shake your head.

“On a good day, I understand maybe a quarter of what Mike says. However, with significant blood loss and no real meals in me, I’m afraid I have no fucking idea what’s happening.”

“Cool,” Steve steps closer to you and motions for you to guide the way. “Let’s follow, then.”

You find the kids in Will’s room, all standing over a picture that the boy drew. In it is a looming figure with four long limbs, its figure thin and haunting as it stalks over the picture. Seeing the drawing, you get an uneasy feeling.

“The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.” Mike is explaining, speaking so fast you can barely keep up as you and Steve stand in the doorway.

“What virus?” You ask, now standing next to the kids.

Mike hands you the picture. “The shadow monster, it got Will that day at the field.”

“And this virus… It’s connecting him to the tunnels?” Max seems to be following along better than you are, which is quite depressing.

“The tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything.”

Something within your stomach drops, the familiar weight of guilt follows it. “Will is still connected to the Upside Down?”

“Whoa, slow down,” Steve steps in now, sensing your panic, and tries to rectify the situation. “Let’s all just slow down.”

Mike groans. “The shadow monster is inside everything, and if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will.”

Again, guilt throws itself against you with all its weight, and you feel each thud against your body like a hammer feels a nail.

Lucas nods. “And so does Dart.”

“Like what Mr. Clark taught us. The hive mind.” Mike follows.

You’re silent, staring at the picture still in your hands.

Steve crosses his arms. “Hive mind?”

“A collective consciousness, a super organism.” You hear Dustin clarify, but it’s all beginning to blur together for you.

All you can think is that you’re the reason Will has become entangled in all of this, in alternate dimensions, infected with a monster so powerful that it can create vast tunnels underneath your feet and monsters bred to kill.

Mike is on a roll now, it’s all clicking together. “And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain–”

“Like the mind flayer,” Dustin realizes, which causes both Lucas and Mike to stop in their tracks.

It seems the boys have figured it all out, then.

And it seems to you that old scars will never fade, not in the way that they should.

Swallowing down your nausea and tears and guilt, you finally speak. “Explain everything to me.”

–

Dustin throws the DnD book onto the Byers’ kitchen table, beginning to explain everything as everyone gathers around.

You stand next to him, Steve to your right, and watch as your brother commands the room as if he was born to do so. As he explains, you look around and everyone. Jonathan stands next to Lucas, facing across from you, and Nancy finds herself standing to your left, worried.

“Oh my god, none of this is real,” Hopper is already over the entire situation, which annoys you. “This is a kid’s game.”

“I’m sorry, but those Demodogs that just attacked us are logical to you?” You snap at the cop, completely baffled that he for some reason decided to draw the line at a DnD reference rather than literal demons from another dimension.

Hopper narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jonathan shrugs his shoulders. “Y/N has a point, you know.”

“Okay, before we all start fighting, I just want to point out that this,” Dustin points to the book on the table. “Is a manuel, and it’s not for kids. Unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor–”

“Analogy.” Lucas interrupts.

“Analogy, that’s what you’re worried about?” You grab at Dustin’s jacket to try and settle him down, but he’s angry and annoyed and you know it’s been a long day for everyone. “Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is!”

Nancy sees you struggling with the boy and tries to step in. “Okay, so this mind flamer thing–”

“Flayer,” you gently correct.

“What does it want?”

Dustin bites his lip. “To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

Steve, who is leaning next to Dustin and you, snaps his finger. “Like the Germans?”

“Uh… The Nazis?” Your brother looks at you, silently urging you to shut the teen up, and you pinch your nose again and sigh.

“Oh, buddy.” You loop your arm through his and pat Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s just listen, okay?”

Steve tries to say more but you hold your finger up, indicating that you won’t listen to whatever he’s about to say, and he rolls his eyes at you but rests his free hand against the one you have on his arm.

However, when Lucas announces that you could all be dealing with the end of the world, Steve lets out a dry laugh and tries to pull away from you, freaking out. “That’s great! That’s really great, jesus!”

You pull him back by the arm, forcing him to stand next to you and calm down, and he doesn’t try to fight it. Though he’s scared out of his fucking mind and in over his head, he listens to your silent command and comes back to you. Once he’s still, you unwrap your arm from his and bring that hand to the back of his neck, playing with the baby hairs there to try and soothe him.

Steve leans into your touch, his shoulders start to relax, and you know he’s slowly calming down.

Jonathan sees this interaction and catches your eye, and when he has your attention, he flashes you a knowing smirk as he mouths, friendly, aren’t we?

You narrow your eyes and subtly point between him and Nancy, mouthing back, you’re one to talk, which effectively shuts Jonathan up and he diverts his eyes again, going back to focusing on what Dustin and the others are saying.

“No, no fireballs,” Dustin is explaining to Hopper. “Instead, you–uh. You summon an undead army and… Uh, because… Zombies, ya know? They don’t–uh, have brains and the–the mind flayer, it, uh, likes brains.”

When your brother sees you shaking your head in disappointment and Hopper’s barely controlled anger, he quickly finishes with, “It’s just a game.”

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You did well explaining, buddy.”

Dustin gives you a weak thumbs up as Hopper angrily throws the book down. “What the hell are we doing here?”

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.” Dustin retorts, and you quickly raise your hand for a high five, which he gladly accepts.

Hopper sees this and rolls his eyes. “We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they gonna stop this? You can’t just shoot this with guns!” Mike quips, and you give him a high five as well.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!” Hopper roars, and it takes everything within you not to flinch at his raised voice.

“We do know, actually.” You say, voice quiet but stern as you try to steady your heartbeat. You’ve never, ever been able to hear a man yelling at you without some form of panic clawing at your chest. “Ask Nancy about the guns. We fought a fully grown Demodog last year, you seem to conveniently forget that.”

Hopper clenches his jaw. “Every time I start to like you, you piss me off again.”

“It’s a skill.”

Everyone begins to argue again, Hopper with you while Dustin, Lucas, and Mike take your side to try and reason with the cop, before a frail, broken voice silences you all.

“They’re right.” Joyce stumbles from her room, her face still wet with tears as grief overtakes her.

“Mrs. Byers,” you breathe out, immediately walking over to the woman to stand by her side, but she gently pushes you away.

“We have to kill it.” Anger slowly spills into her voice. “I want to kill it.”

Hopper joins your side now, the two of you surrounding the woman. “Me too, Joyce. Okay? But how do we do that? We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“We don’t know what could happen to Will,” you urge, understanding Joyce’s anger but terrified of how it may affect her son.

“If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will.” Mike begins to walk over to the boy, who is still knocked out cold on the couch. “He’s connected to it. He’ll know its weakness.”

Everyone stands in the living room now, and dread encases its hand around your throat. You don’t want to make Will any more involved in this than he needs to be, he’s been through too much.

Max cocks her head. “I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore. That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“We can always trust Will.” There’s an edge to your voice, and Jonathan has to grab your hand to steady you.

Mike nods, understanding what you’re trying to voice. “I know, Y/N. We can always trust him, and he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.”

–

Somehow, Steve gets paired up with Nancy to cover the inside of the Byers’ shed with tarps.

One minute Steve had been standing behind you in the living room as Mike explained his plan, and the next minute he was being auctioned off to join his ex in a small shed while you got to happily team up with Jonathan and his mom.

It was unfair, really.

While he’s moping about his luck, Nancy hesitantly looks at Steve, clearly also as equally uncomfortable in the silence. She lingers as Steve begins to hang up another tarp and she tears a piece of tape for him, waiting.

She watches as Steve’s body stretches the length of the wall and realizes that this is the first time they’ve been alone together since their conversation at school, and that his languid movements are foreign to her.

Nancy hasn’t seen him so at ease in a long, long time.

She thinks about how you’d been with him these last few days while she had been with Jonathan, and she wonders what else may have possibly changed in such a short amount of time.

“Hey,” she finally says, the silence clawing at her. “What you did, um… Helping the kids, that was really cool.”

Steve still looks at Nancy with such sincerity and warmth, something that makes her stomach twist with guilt. He doesn’t know what she’s done just yet, and she doesn’t know if he has a right to even care at all.

“Yeah,” he exhales, breaking the eye contact first. “Those little shits are real trouble, ya know?”

Nancy finds herself laughing, grateful he seems open to talking to her. “Believe me, I know.”

“It’s a miracle that Y/N survived so long on her own.” Steve says absentmindedly, returning to hanging up the tarp.

Hearing your name causes Nancy’s stomach to twist again. Steve may not have pieced everything together just yet, but she knows that you have. You’ve always been able to read people well, too well, even.

Jonathan wasn’t yours and she wasn’t Steve’s, yet Nancy feels an overwhelming sense of guilt for the two of you.

“It’s nice that you were there for her,” Nancy avoids looking at Steve again.

“Y/N has been there for everyone else, so I figured it was time that someone was finally there for her?” He shakes his head, unsure what he’s even saying. “I just… I wanted to help her.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, she only nods and continues tearing off more pieces of tape.

You’re too good, everyone knows this, and sometimes Nancy finds herself resenting you for it, even though none of it is your fault.

–

Jonathan tears down another bedsheet from the clothing line and tosses it into the growing pile of sheets and bedding in your arms; he yanks them down, you catch, and then he cuts the lines with the knives you loaned him.

“You sure this is gonna work?” Jonathan asks his mom, who has joined the two of you to collect her own pile of sheets to cover the shed.

Joyce nods, the familiar frantic look in her eyes from last year is now back. “He knew who I was. He’s still in there. It’s gonna work, it has to.”

You peek from behind the pile of cloth you’re holding. “Who knows, maybe we can finally prove whether or not Freud’s theory of consciousness is correct.”

Jonathan doesn’t understand what you mean, but Joyce sends you a grateful smile, appreciative that you’re trying to remain optimistic despite the situation, and then leaves before her son can question the plan once more.

As soon as the two of you are alone, Jonathan puts your switchblade in his pocket and then faces you, not wasting a second to finally have you to himself. “Okay, tell me everything I missed while I was gone.”

His eager curiosity makes you smile. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but aren’t we on a time limit?”

“I think we can spare a few minutes, bug.”

“Fine, but at least grab some of these sheets so I can actually look at you while I talk.”

Jonathan laughs and does as he’s told, grabbing some of the cloth you’re holding and lessening the weight of it for you. Once he’s able to see your face, he smiles warmly at you. “Hi,”

“Hi, bee.” The greeting drips from your mouth like pure honey, and with two simple words, Jonathan can feel himself finally begin to relax.

“So,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that what you’re about to tell Jonathan will remove the carefree smile on his face. He’ll only blame himself, and you hate the responsibility he seems to feel for you.

“The only major thing, well… Besides the Demodogs, is that I spilled milk all over Billy, the guy you punched at the Halloween party.”

Jonathan gapes at you. “What?”

“Yeah, it was kinda awesome, honestly. He was being a bitch, accusing me and Steve of getting together to piss you and Nance off, and he was just being an overall creep, so… I spilled milk on him to get him to shut up so that Steve wouldn’t end up knocking the guy out.”

“Wait, Steve was there?” He tries to keep his voice level, but even Jonathan can hear the underlying hurt within his voice.

He’s not sure why the hurt is there, or why the thought of Steve being the one now protecting you sends a punch to his throat.

“Yeah,” you frown at him, confused by his sudden shift in mood. “He was with me in the lunchroom, wanted to know where you and Nance had run off to.”

Jonathan swallows. “I’m glad he was there, bug.”

And he is, he knows he is, but he also knows that it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the shift that has come between the two of you. How it was only thirty minutes ago that you had wrapped your arm around Steve’s, not Jonathan’s.

He clears his throat. “So, about Steve…”

“What about him?” You feign ignorance, but Jonathan sees the blush that has started to spread across your face.

“You’re blushing, bug.” It hurts him to tease, but he knows he has to. Jonathan has to play the role he had been given when he was twelve and had met you that day on Nancy’s front porch.

The same girl he slept with last night, who he has come to love with such devotion that he still struggles to accept within himself.

They haven’t talked about it, at least not yet, but all the unsaid truths between you and Jonathan hang over him. He can feel the lines and threads and strings all closing in on you two, and he knows you can also sense it as well.

“It’s nothing, bee.” You start walking towards the shed, uncomfortable now. You don’t want Jonathan’s teasing, not when it comes to Steve; it’s too painful, you still haven’t quite come to terms with your newfound feelings for the boy.

Not when you haven’t laid your feelings for Jonathan to rest, yet.

It wouldn’t be fair to Steve.

Jonathan steps in front of you, blocking your path. He feels as if he’s about to lose you, and for the first time since he’s met you, he doesn’t know how to make you stay. “Hey, I’m sorry. It’s just… I know you.”

His words burn.

“Let’s just get back to the shed–”

“Bug,” he blocks your path again. He’s not ready to lose you just yet, but he knows he will soon. It’s inevitable. “I know you, and when you’re around Steve, you just… You’re different, a–a good different, and–”

“Jonathan, I really don’t want to talk about this,” you plead, but he hears the at least not with you that goes unsaid. “Why don’t you focus on your newly formed relationship with Nancy, okay?”

Jonathan stumbles over his feet. “You–you know?”

“I know you,” you echo his words from moments ago, with its melancholy and all.

He sighs, steps to the side, and lets you go.

It’s quiet after that.

–

In the shed, everyone busies themselves with their tasks.

You, Steve, and Lucas run around with nail guns and tape for those who need it. The rest of the kids work as a unit, helping one another with covering every inch of wall they can find. Meanwhile, Nancy wraps newspaper around the poles while Jonathan carries Will through the door.

Seeing Will, limp within Jonathan’s arms, only reminds you of the dead body that had been pulled from the quarry last year.

Only this time it really is Will.

Together, you and Jonathan gently place the boy in the chair and tie him. You ignore the way your heart clenches as you knot the cords together; you’re doing this to save him. Joyce prepares the medicine needed to knock Will out, in case anything happens, and as you watch, Lucas and Mike switch on the overhead lamps, blinding you.

“Christ,” you mumble, holding your hand up to shield your eyes from the light.

“It works,” Mike looks at you, hopeful. “It’s gonna work.”

Hopper steps forward, facing everyone. “If you aren’t related to the Byers family, get out.” While everyone begins to leave, you and Mike remain where you are. When Hopper sees this, he frowns. “What did I just say?”

Dustin and Steve linger in the doorway, both silently asking you what the plan is, and you give them a slight nod to indicate that it’s okay. You’ll join them later, right now Will needs you and you sure as hell aren’t leaving Mike and Jonathan alone to deal with this.

“Y/N is family, Hop.” Joyce stands next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You smile at her before facing the chief. “I’m staying.”

“Me, too.” Mike echos, standing his own ground against the man, and you refrain from giving him another high five for his bravery.

Better not to upset Hopper too much more.

The man in question groans, too tired to argue. “Fine, you two can stay, but only because I know that if I don’t let Henderson stay then Jonathan will probably have a panic attack or something.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Probably.”

Dustin rushes over to you and gives you a tight hug. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you kiss the top of his hat, catching Steve’s eye in the process. “Take care of him, please?”

Steve nods, without any hesitation to do as you’ve asked. “Of course.”

And with that, the door to the shed closes as the last of the group leaves.

It’s silent after that, and you take a second to admire the work everyone did. The shed is completely unrecognizable, and the lights will only further limit Will’s vision. A part of you truly believes that this plan could work, but you’ve long since stopped letting your hope get the better of you.

“Alright, you ready?” Hopper looks over at Joyce, holding the ammonia needed to wake Will up.

“Yeah,” the woman crosses her arms, and you want to reach out and hold her.

Everyone is quiet as Hopper crouches in front of Will and dabs some ammonia onto a cotton ball. Then, slowly, he brings it up to the boy’s face and waits for him to inhale. When he does, Will’s eyes snap open and he inhales so sharply that you’re worried he’s hurt himself.

You stand in between Mike and Jonathan, and seeing the pure fear on Will’s face brings tears to your eyes. He reminds you of a deer, small and frail, with eyes so full of fear that it makes you ache.

Will’s eyes dart around the room, and when he notices that he’s tied to the chair, he begins to tug at the cords. “What–what is this? Why am I tied up?”

“Will, we just wanna talk to you,” Joyce softly tells him, now eye level with the boy as she does her best to calm him down. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

“Where am I?” The fear that had once been in Will’s voice is gone, now replaced with an anger that seems so foreign to associate with the boy.

Hopper joins now, showing him the picture of the mind flayer that he drew. “You recognize this?”

Will shakes his head and looks over at you, now realizing that you’re there, and you force yourself to look away. He’s always been the sweetest boy, but he killed so many innocent people today, even if he hadn’t meant to.

You trust Will, you do, but you remind yourself that the boy in front of you isn’t really him.

“We wanna help you,” Joyce tries to reassure him again. “But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it.”

At the mention of killing, Will’s eyes widen as more anger seeps through him, now shouting at his mother, “Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?”

He begins to thrash around, throwing his head back against the wall as he repeatedly screams and begs to be let go. The lights are now flickering and immediately you draw Mike into your chest, trying to mask your own tears as you comfort him.

Jonathan clings behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist as he buries his face into your shoulder, and blindly you reach behind yourself so you can hold him as well. When you feel his tears spill against your skin, you wrap your arms tighter around Mike and cry.

Will continues to scream, becoming more and more violent, and something demonic seems to crawl into his vocal chords as he screams.

You hold Mike and Jonathan tighter against you, doing everything you can to be there for the boys. You knew this would be difficult, but as the lights continue to flicker and Will’s pale face quickly becomes paler with every plea, you feel weak.

With Jonathan behind you and Mike in front of you, both boys clinging onto you as sobs wrack your own body, it becomes unclear who is being held up and who is the one holding.

Hopper has his own arms wrapped around Will, and slowly, miraculously, his pleas begin to fade off. Exhaustion seems to overtake the boy, as he starts to mumble more than scream, and with every exhaled breath, the light’s flickering settles down.

Finally, silence.

The only sound in the shed is Will’s labored breaths, alongside your own.

Joyce sits in the chair placed in front of Will, takes a moment to find her words, and then asks the boy, “Do you know what March 22nd is?”

You do, it’s Will’s birthday, and you listen as Joyce talks about his eighth birthday and how she had gotten him a giant box of crayons and he had used all the colors to draw a rainbow ship. With every word, more despair and love fills the woman’s voice as she reflects on how proud she is of him, how much she loves him, and you have to turn away for a moment to wipe at your eyes.

After Joyce has finished her story, you all see something within Will. As if he’s coming back to himself, his eyes no longer holding the malic from earlier.

Jonathan detangles himself from you and wipes his eyes as well, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Do you remember the day dad left?”

You turn around, already knowing the story that he’s about to tell, and you press a soft kiss to Mike’s forehead before joining Jonathan at Will’s side. He can’t be alone when he retells this story, because he hadn’t been alone when it happened.

“We stayed up all night building Castle Byers,” Jonathan reflects, nudging you as you crouch down in front of Will as well. “It was Y/N’s idea to build it just the way you drew it.”

“You loved the idea,” your voice cracks, but you try to hide it so that you don’t scare the boy.

You remember how Will’s face lit up when you surprised him with the idea. He hadn’t left his room in hours, blaming himself for Lonnie leaving, and Jonathan had shown up at your window, in tears as he confessed that he didn’t know how to help Will.

After yanking the teen into your room and sitting him down on your bed, you had told him that Will simply needed someone there for him, to remind him that he was good and lovely and that everything that Lonnie had ever said was wrong.

Later that day, the two of you showed up to the hardware store; two young teens with only pocket change as currency, and you’d bought all the supplies needed for Castle Byers.

“And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering.” The fondness of the memory causes Jonathan to laugh, and you do so as well as you remember just how many times Will had accidentally hit his fingers rather than the nail. “You missed the nail every time.”

“I thought you’d lose a finger, honestly.” You add, which Joyce laughs at.

Jonathan continues. “And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway. All of us were sick for like a week after that… But we just had to finish it, didn’t we? We just had to.”

You squeeze the teen’s hand and lean in closer to Will, sensing that it’s now your turn to speak. “Do you know what my nickname is for you?”

Will slowly nods, his eyes going to Jonathan and then back to you, indicating that he understands he’s your little bee.

“Little bee, that’s right.” It isn’t difficult to reminisce on your favorite memory with the boy, it comes to you immediately. “After we all had gotten the cold, do you remember the awful flu that Jonathan and Dustin somehow got like a week afterwards?”

Jonathan snorts, remembering how annoyed he had been for being so sick for so long. He had missed two whole weeks of school, and you were the one who had to bring his assignments to him and help with his homework.

“That weekend, our moms decided that it made more sense to send Jonathan to my house so he and Dustin could quarantine together, so I stayed at your house and we spent the entire weekend alone. Just you and me.”

You smile softly, the memory fresh and warm like an early spring day. You love Jonathan and Dustin endlessly, but being alone with Will was special. A rare occasion that the two of you always relished in. “That weekend, we watched all your favorite movies and I taught you how to bake the cookies you love so much… You taught me how to draw, and together we were happy.”

Your voice breaks again, the warmth of the memory slightly stings as you gaze into Will’s sunken eyes. Two years ago you had all of Will, his happiness genuine and his heart kind, and now you’re terrified you’ll never have that version of him back ever again.

Jonathan notices your hesitancy and strokes your face gently. “Go on,”

You grab the hand on your face and kiss it, grateful for the strength he’s loaning you. “We–we were almost sad when Dustin and Jonathan got better, because we had enjoyed our little weekend getaway.”

Joyce lets out a shaky breath as she reaches for you as well, her hand landing against your shoulder, a place she has long since inhabited for herself whenever she wants to express her love for you. She knows how fiercely you love her sons, and she remembers all the laughter and joy she heard that weekend within her home, a home that had long since stopped being warm for her.

“That weekend…” You force down the sobs that threaten to spill over. You have to finish the story, to remind Will of who he is again. He has to come back to you. “That weekend, you became my little bee.”

As soon as you say Will’s nickname, you lean away from the boy and try to collect yourself. You’ve said all that you physically can for now, and you hope it was enough. You hope, more than anything, that it will be enough to bring Will home again.

Mike steps forward now, and Will turns his head to him. “Do you remember the first day that we met?”

You notice the tear that falls down the boy’s face, and you lean your head against Jonathan’s shoulder in exhaustion as you listen to his story. It’s one you’ve never heard before, and it’s rare to see Mike so vulnerable with his feelings.

“It was… It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends, and–and I just felt so alone and so scared but–” More tears come. “I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself.”

Jonathan’s hand finds your hair as you both listen, and you know he’s thinking the same as you. How finding your person in a world so vast and lonely can bring you to life.

“I just walked up to you and… I asked. I asked if you wanted to be my friend, and you said yes.” Mike swallows, now diverting his eyes away from everyone. “You said yes, and it was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Mike finishes with more tears, and you walk over to him so that he can hide his face against you. You know he wants to be alone right now, that he hates how exposed his emotions are, and as soon as you’ve wrapped your arms around the boy he buries his face in your chest and softly cries.

You do your best to shield him from the world.

Meanwhile, Joyce tries again to reach Will. “Will, baby. If you’re in there, just please… Please talk to us. Please, honey, can you do that for me? I love you so much.”

Something seems to collapse within Will, he fights back tears as his breathing becomes labored again. For a moment, you think it’s worked, that he’ll finally come back and you’ll have your little bee again.

“Let me go.” Will demands again, and you feel everyone’s heart in the room drop.

It’s quiet for several moments, but there’s a faint tapping that you hear. You don’t know where it’s coming from, but you’re sure that it hadn’t been there moments ago. You look around the room and see Hopper doing the same.

When your eyes meet his, he tilts his head at you as if to ask if you hear it too. You nod, and Hopper looks around once more before he freezes.

“Out,” Hopper suddenly orders, leaving no time for anyone to argue as he flings the shed door open and marches towards the Byers home.

–

“What happened?” Dustin immediately asks as soon as you enter the house.

“We think we found something,” you inform him, pointing to Hopper, who has now sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper.

Everyone gathers around him as he starts to scribble a series of lines and dots. “I think he’s talking, just not with words.

“What is that?” Steve asks, lost as to how lines and dots are so important.

“Morse code,” all the boys answer in unison.

Steve leans over you and whispers, “Why do they always do that?”

“You get used to it. Now shush.”

Hopper spells out the letters he remembers Will tapping. “H-E-R-E.”

“Here.” Everyone says out loud.

“Will is still in there. He’s talking to us.” The chief says, looking at Joyce.

Your eyes meet Jonathan’s and an idea comes to you. “If the memories we’re telling him are working, then what about music?”

Hopper thinks for a moment, but Jonathan has already run to his room to grab his stereo and cassette tapes, understanding exactly what you’re thinking.

A plan forms from there.

You, Jonathan, Mike, and Joyce all take turns telling Will stories while his favorite song plays. Should I Stay or Should I Go? Plays within the shed as memories fill it with warmth and Hopper taps out on a walkie everything that Will taps.

Inside the house, the kids, Nancy, and Steve all listen to the walkie and write down the morse code to decipher what Will is saying.

Jonathan tells him about real music, Mike recounts the time Will saved the party during one of their campaigns, Joyce talks about a kind moment from his childhood, and you tell him about the wonderful drawing he made for your birthday. The one of you, Jonathan, and the party fighting a dragon.

“You drew me as a princess and Jonathan laughed when he saw it. Said it was very fitting.” You say, nervously watching as Will frantically taps against his chair. “When you gave me the picture, I think I almost squeezed you to death when I hugged you. It’s still the best birthday gift I’ve ever been given–”

The sound of a telephone ringing cuts you off, and Will snaps his head up, no longer paying any attention to you.

You freeze, now realizing that the music has shut off. Will has to have heard it, and you know he’ll figure out where you guys are. His eyes droop shut and you slowly back away into Jonathan, who grabs you and pulls you even further away. He’s tense, you both are.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Joyce tries to draw Will back in, but he’s starting to pant as his eyes flutter rapidly underneath his eyelids.

“It knows. It knows where we are.” Hopper says as Joyce reaches for the sedative.

With one fluid movement, she injects Will and immediately he knocks out. His head falls forward, his breathing now back to normal. You pull at Joyce so that she faces you. “Did we knock him out in time?”

She doesn’t say anything, and Hopper runs outside while Jonathan and Mike join. The two of you stand in the shed alone, silent, both filled with dread.

Jonathan comes running back in. “They’re coming!”

“Shit!” You scramble to help him untie Will and you and Hopper use your knives to speed up the process. Your hands are shaking, but there’s no time to steady them.

Once Will is untied, Jonathan throws him over his shoulder and runs to the house. Joyce and Hopper follow and you grab Mike’s hand to make sure you don’t lose him. As you run, you hear the familiar screeches of the Demodogs and the hair on the back of your neck stands up.

They’re close.

Inside, you take the lead and shove everyone out of the kitchen. “Get to the living room. Now!”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Steve is at your side now, his voice soft with fear.

You’re about to reassure him that it’ll be okay, to lie through your teeth, but then you see the kids by the windows and groan. “Get away from the windows!”

They scurry away and Hopper steps in, holding a shotgun that he offers to Jonathan. “Do you know how to use this?”

Jonathan looks around as if Hopper has asked someone else. “What?”

“Can you use this?”

While Jonathan stumbles over his words, Nancy confidently walks over. “I can.”

Hopper nods and tosses her the gun before turning to you, “I saw the switchblade earlier. Use it.”

You flick your wrist and extend the blades, doing as you’re told.

Everyone gathers around, with an assortment of weapons, and you get the insane urge to laugh. Of course you’re back here a year later, standing in Jonathan’s living room as monsters from another dimension threaten your loved ones.

Jonathan stands in front of Joyce while you stand in front of Dustin, knives raised to your face. Steve stands in front of you, his back facing you as he wields his bat, ready to defend you and your brother.

You make sure to keep an eye on Lucas and Max, who are to your left, trusting that Nancy has Mike as she and Hopper raise their guns.

All eyes are on the windows, no one says anything as you all wait. With every passing second, the howls and screeches outside get louder. Then, a loud screech comes from your right, and everyone turns around.

“What are they doing?” Nancy asks no one in particular, her voice shaky but her aim firm and strong.

You see the bushes rustling through the windows, and another snarl comes from the other side that causes you all to scream. There’s commotion outside, a series of screeches and thuds, and your body tenses, preparing itself to fight.

Suddenly, the screeching stops, and through the window a giant body gets thrown.

You scream and Steve shoves you and Dustin further behind him, but your brother realizes before you do what’s happened. “Holy shit.”

The Demodog lays motionless on the floor, its body limp, and you realize with a relieved sigh that it’s dead.

“Is it dead?” Max asks, as you all begin to approach its corpse.

“It is,” you confirm, too scared to ask the question of what the fuck killed it.

As Hopper pokes at the Demodog with his shoe, the front door creaks open, and everyone turns in alarm with weapons at the ready. The lock turns, and you feel a familiar sense of static. It’s been a year since you’ve felt the sensation, a year since the girl who could control things with her mind disappeared and left her memory behind.

It’s El.

She walks in, and you drop your knife in shock when you see that it’s her.

She’s grown so much since you last saw her, her hair is longer and she’s gotten taller. Her clothes are all black, her eyes smudged with makeup. Mike steps forward, you see the way his eyes fill with adoration.

You let out a soft cry, all the guilt and grief you’ve felt over the girl finally lifts, and you can breathe again.

She’s back.

El is alive.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery @bex22109 @officerrrfriendly @kazunish @idkitsem @emilieluckwood @ryoujoking @criesinlies @tagakalat @dcnerd98 @sucker-4-angst @kitdjarin1 @onecojg @innazra @areiofhope @spaghetittied @cultish-corner @g8sstuff @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @hsllfirescoops @l0ve-0f-my-life @newyorkangelbaby @aliceespector

[phoward89]

Dealer!Coryo x Reader

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, fighting, parties, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, degradation, overstimulation, breeding kink, Dom!Coryo, Bratty!Reader, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2:

Coriolanus swore that he was cutting you loose, but that didn't happen. Well, it happened for exactly 2 weeks, but then he walked into a party on the right side of town (Capitol Estates- a high end gated community full of super rich people. The Plinths tried to buy in the development, but the HOA didn't think the family was a good fit since they moved to Panem, Colorado from Dos, New Mexico roughly a decade back. Stuck up HOA bastards) with the intention to deal to some dumbass rich kids only to see your ex with you.

Wasn't Odysseus Odair supposed to be in California right now? What the ever loving fucking hell is he doing here flirting with you; giving you his charming manwhore smile? After seeing that, well, the dealer knew that he had to protect you from that motherfucker. He also felt jealous and very, very possessive of you.

Snow's possessiveness over you was primal. Almost caveman like in a way. Fuck! He just wants to toss you over his shoulder and yell for all to hear that you're off limits. That none of these dickweeds here are good enough for you.

So, without giving it a second thought, he went up to you. Slinging an arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his chest, he tilted his head and growled at your ex, “Back off, Odair, she's with me.”

“Oh, really?” Odysseus laughed, not looking convinced.

Craning your neck to look at Coryo, you ask, “What're you doing here?”

Giving you a hard look, icy eyes cold with anger, Coriolanus retorted in a dry, deep baritone, “Working, what're you doing letting your manwhore ex push up on you?”

“We're talking, Snowball. That's all.” You assure your dealer. You want to roll your eyes at how he's acting, but don't. You know he's worried about your ex wooing you back, but he's got nothing to worry about.

But try telling him that.

“Yea, Snowball,” Odysseus mocked, his voice over exaggerated with a saccharine syrupy tone. “we’re talking so why don't you go off and sell some drugs.” With a provoking smirk, he jeered, “Isn't that what you do, being a drug dealer and all?”

What the hell? Does your ex have a death wish? Doesn't he remember how Coryo beat the ever loving shit out of him for cheating on you. Odysseus can't be that stupid, can he? You know the man with sea-green eyes is a pretty boy, but he has to have a brain underneath all that bronze hair, right?

“Snow, this peacock giving you trouble ‘bout your girl?” Sejanus asked, coming up on the scene. Festus was next to him, already half drunk and high, and was giving Odysseus a nasty look.

Great, now Coriolanus’ dealer buddies have come to back him up. Great…the last thing you need is to be caught in the middle of a fight cause your dealer’s acting like a jealous asshole right now.

“Yea, Plinth.” Snow tells the broad bear of a man that he considers a friend. No, a brother. “Fucking manwhore thinks he can dis me; push up on what's mine too.”

Oh Jesus…what the hell's going on?! Since when are you Snowball's? As of two weeks ago he said he wanted to stop hooking up; told you he'd do weed exchanges at your house- that you guys can't keep fucking in his apartment.

Mhm…

And now the motherfucker’s being crazy possessive and jealous cause he saw you talking to somebody at a party. Okay, it was your ex…but still…

“You better not piss on what belongs to Snow. Might get shot.” Festus advises Odysseus, taking a drag off his joint before passing it over to you with a pointed look. It's as if he knows you're going to need all the loosening up and relaxing tonight that you can get.

Coryo grabs the joint from Festus and passes it to you before lifting his arm from your shoulder and getting up into Odysseus’ face. Oh shit! This ain't good!

This ain't good at all!

Coriolanus gives Odysseus a hard look with his icy blue eyes while telling him in a sharp, threatening tone that oozed danger, “If you value your useless, fucking life I advise you to leave and not come back.”

“You think I'm dumb enough to come to this party without having friends here? Oh, Snowball, maybe you should lay off that coke you sell.” Odysseus taunts your dealer with the platinum buzz cut. Looking over his shoulder, your ex calls out, “Vinny, Hector! Gotta Snow problem!”

“Coryo, leave him alone.” You tell the tall blonde while reaching out to grab his arm. “Please, Coryo, let's just get outta here.” You plead as Livinius Cardew and Hector Heavensbee, two rich but very rough customers when it came to booze and dope, crawled out of the woodwork and appeared on either side of Odysseus.

Looking at you over his shoulder, Coriolanus gritted thru his teeth, “Don't call me that right now, baby.”

Festus snatched his joint back from you, since you're too busy trying to keep Coriolanus from fighting instead of smoking.

“Please, let's just go. I don't want you getting hurt or tossed into jail tonight.” You beg your dealer fuck buddy while tightly holding onto his arm and trying to tug him away from the three men that he's about to get into a throw down with.

Coriolanus wanted to strangle you right now. He's trying to take care of business and you're begging him to leave. Fuck, if he leaves with you he'll look weak. He can't afford to look weak. He's a drug dealer; it'll screw up his street cred.

Yep. You're his weakness. But he can't afford to show it.

Yanking his arm free from your hold, he tells you, “Go wait by my car.”

“Cor-” You begin to protest, only to be cut off by his deep baritone loudly snapping, “Bitch, I said go wait by my fucking car!”

“Fuck you, Snow.” You spit in his face, causing everyone crowded around to let out a chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘dayumns’, before pivoting and storming off.

And you meant it, fuck him. Coriolanus can do whatever he wants. Bastard wants to call you a bitch and disrespect you all cause he needs his fucking street cred, then fine. So be it. But you're not sticking around or waiting by his car.

No.

You'll just walk home. Too bad the buses stop running in Panem at 6:45pm, otherwise you'd be able to catch one. And you can't call Ashlie, your brother's girlfriend to get you since she's currently working as a barmaid at the Hobb right now. You're lucky she was able to give you a ride to the party in the first place. And your brothers prolly 3 sheets to the wind right now on moonshine…

Damnit, looks like you get to walk across Panem to go home to the shitty trailer park you live in on the edge of town.

Fuck…

Snow would be a jackass tonight.

As Coriolanus wiped the spit off his face he made a mental note to punish you for that later. Yea, he's gonna have to fuck some respect and manners into you cause you're being a brat. You gotta learn how to behave around him while he's in his element; while he's working.

Odyssey cocked his head to the side, only to goad Coriolanus with a syrupy tart remark of, “I see you told her off. No wonder Y/N is letting me hit her up, you're obviously not doing it for her with your hood boy vibe.”

Without a word, Coriolanus balled his hand into a fist and took a swing at your Odysseus’ jaw; knocking him to the ground. The drug dealer grabbed the collar of your ex’s shirt, pulling him up so that he could punch him again.

And again.

And again.

Some people gasped, some screamed and shouted, but just about everyone stopped what they were doing to watch Coriolanus beat up your ex. The platinum blonde dealer has a rep for being a brawler, so everyone watches him fight- wonder if he's gonna kill somebody with his fists.

But when Livinius and Hector came forward to join the fight and push Snow off of Odysseus (who’s nearly unconscious at this point), Sejanus pulled Coriolanus off of your ex while Festus pulled his gat, threatening to pop some caps in their asses if they even dared to go after Snow in an unfair fight.

“Thanks, Sej, Festus, but I could've handle ‘em. I got a gun of my own, ya know.” Coriolanus told his friends as they walked out of the large house that was hosting the party.

Clasping his friend on the back, Sejanus said, “We know you can handle yourself, but you need to deal with your girl right now.”

“Yea, Snow, you need to bring her home and fuck her.” Festus crudely added in.

“Creed, shut up.” Coriolanus ordered his friend. Festus was such a perv, always talking about fucking and hooking up with anything that has two legs. God, Coriolanus cringes at the thought of how many STDs Festus must've had by now. Boy’s like a walking petri dish.

“I'll catch up wit’cha later. Gotta get to my car and deal with Y/N.” Coryo told his friends.

“Yea, you let her know who's boss.” Festus said while at the same time Sejanus wisely advised, “Don't be too hard on her, she's a nice girl; you don't find those easily.”

“Yea, I know.” Coriolanus dismissively snaps, only to walk off towards where his car was.

And when he reached his car you weren't there waiting for him, which nearly gave him a heart attack. Where the fuck were you?

Getting into his black luxury sedan (cause slinging dope really paid off) he pulled his iPhone out of his back pocket and called you. It was ignored, making him mad. So he called you again and again, only to keep having his calls ignored.

He would’ve kept calling you, but the sound of sirens blaring in the distance made his blood run cold.

Fuck! Somebody called the cops cause Festus pulled a gun. Damn, Coriolanus needs to get outta the gated community before he's stopped and taken in for questioning cause he's Snow- a known drug dealer.

And of course you're being a stubborn fucking bratty bitch right now.

Tossing his phone on his dash, Snow cranks on his car and quickly pulls away from the large party house. He speeds down the winding streets and manages to exit the gates community of Capitol Estates right before the cops can notice him.

And he's speeding down the road, heading home, whenever he spots your figure walking along the desolate highway I-70: which is very unsafe if you ask him.

Rolling down his window and slowing down to a cruise, he comes up on you and barks, “What the fuck a doing walking down the highway, baby? Trying to get snatched and killed by some creep?”

“I'm going home, Snowball. Gotta walk since the buses stopped running hours ago. Why else would I be walking down a fucking highway for?” You tell the platinum blonde hood with so much animosity in your usual sweet voice that it's not even funny.

“Come on, I'll take you home.” Snowball tells you, clicking the button to unlock his car doors for you.

“No thank you, Snow.” You turn down in offer in a polite, but clipped tone as you continue to walk down the road.

“Baby, don't be like this.” The platinum blonde dealer sighed. “You can't walk half an hour late at night back to the trailer park. It ain't safe.”

“What? Like you give a shit?”

“You know I do, Y/N. So get in the car, yea?”

You looked between Snow's black luxury sedan and the stretch of open road you're currently trekking down. You decided to be a lil bitch, give him the cold shoulder, and keep on keeping on down the highway.

Or at least you planned on continuing your walk, but Coriolanus’ baritone stopped you right in your tracks as he heavily announced, “The cops busted the party, we better get outta here before they come back and decide to pull me over for a traffic stop. Don't wanna get arrested for hauling shit in my car.”

Of course, Snowball has drugs in his car. After all, he's a dealer.

You heard the sirens; saw the cop cars whizzing by too. You didn't care. Let them bust the party. Everyone knows that Sejanus Plinth's father will buy him out of trouble, his friends too. So you weren't too concerned about Snow or anyone you knew at that house party in Capitol Estates getting busted.

But Coriolanus is right, him sticking around the area's risky since the cops are lurking around. If he got caught up in a traffic stop, searched for dope, and was arrested, then you'd be stealing money from your brother and sister-in-law to pay his bail- cause you know Snow would call you to bail him out.

It happened a couple of times before.

And if your brother catches you stealing his money again to pay the bail bondsman, well…you'd probably get a smack across the head and thrown out on your ass. Definitely the latter, maybe the former.

Sighing, you relented. “Fine, you can give me a ride.” You round the car and get into the passenger’s side.

The ride along the stretch of highway that leads into downtown Panem (and out of it to the outskirts and the trailer park you live in) feels long and stifling. The radio’s on low, providing the only noise in the car- the stero’s bass booming with Coriolanus' playlist. You're looking out the window; giving the dealer next to you the cold shoulder.

“I'm taking you back to my place.” Coryo told you, his voice loud over the radio.

“Why?” Was the one word question that flies out of your mouth

“What'd you mean ‘why?’. You know full well fucking why.”

Whipping your head around to look at his profile, as he drove down the road illuminated by his headlights and a few scattered street lamps. “Actually, Snowball, I don't know why. Last time I checked, you said a couple of weeks ago that you don't wanna hookup anymore; will just do weed drop offs at my front door.”

“Yea, well, after putting me thru hell tonight I'd say that you owe me a fuck.” Giving you a pointed look, he shrugged, “Or at least deep throat my cock.”

“I don't owe you shit.” And you'd stand by that too. Snow's nostrils flare angrily and he cuts his icy eyes at you. Rolling your eyes at his temper, you remind him of why you don't owe him. “You're the one that decided to come to my rescue; I didn't ask for your help. In fact I was fine just talking with Odysseus.”

“It's never just talking with you and Odair. It always ends up with you taking him back; trying again.” Coriolanus snaps, taking a hand off the steering wheel and reaching into the ashtray for a roach. “I ain't gonna sit back and watch him hurt you again, babygirl.” He pulled the roach out and brought it to his lush lips.

“So, you're jealous?” You ask, letting out a giggle of disbelief, as Coriolanus digs his lighter out of his pocket and lit up the roach.

“I'm not jealous, just a bit protective of you’s all.” The dealer half lied, since he was jealous, before tossing you his lighter. Pointing to the ashtray, he orders, “Grab yourself a roach.”

“You gonna charge me for it, Snowball?” You ask, reaching forward to grab a roach from the ashtray.

“No.” Coriolanus shook his head. “And call me Coryo tonight, yea?” He says as you light up.

“Whatever you say, Coryo.” You shrug, tossing his lighter onto the dash as you smoke your roach.

His roach teeters against his lips as Coryo smacks your bare thigh (since you're in shorts) while telling you in a deep, dark baritone, “I’m gonna fuck some sense, respect, and manners into you tonight, baby.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. Coriolanus has a big cock and you always enjoy getting fucked by him. But by his tone, he's pissed and is going fuck you hard tonight to prove a point. Do you care? Not really.

Hey, you're getting dicked down tonight, so you're not gonna complain about why it's happening.

After arriving at Coryo's apartment, he literally tossed you over his shoulder and carried you to his bedroom. Despite hooking up with him a few times, you've never been inside of his room. You’ve always hooked up on his couch in the living room. But it seems like Snow wants to fuck you in his bed tonight.

He unceremoniously tosses you onto his bed, making you bounce slightly. Coriolanus pulls his shirt off and tosses it to the side before pulling his gun out of his waistband and placing it on his bedside table. All while you just lay in the middle of his bed, silently watching him.

Pulling some bags of various drugs out of his pockets and putting them on the bedside table, the dealer tells you, “After tonight you won't be a bratty bitch with me anymore.”

“And what if after tonight's fucking I decide to still be a bratty bitch?” You countered, watching the platinum blonde as he kneels on the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly with the added weight of his body.

Coryo's hovering over your body. One of his hands is flat against the mattress while the other goes straight to your hair. His long fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it and making your neck crane so your face is close to his. Your eyes lock onto to icy blues, now blazing with lust and an unchecked emotion, as he tells you, “Then I'll just have to keep fucking you til you're not a bratty bitch anymore.”

Before you can even think of a retort, Coryo's lips are smacking against yours in a heated, dominant kiss. A kiss that he poured out all of his jealousy, obsessiveness, and possessiveness into. A kiss that you respond to right away.

The taste of beer, weed, and mint sets your senses on fire as Snow deepens the kiss by shoving his tongue into your mouth as soon as you let out a tiny gasp for air. Air that you'll never get since Coryo's determined to suck all the air out of your lungs with his hungry and raw kisses.

Kisses unlike any other you've ever had before.

Coryo kissed like a starving man who couldn't satisfy his hunger. Like a parched man with an unquenchable thirst. He kissed like he wanted to suck the very soul out of your body, only to swallow it whole and make it one with his own.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss, and just gave you a dark smirk before grabbing the hem of your dress. He didn't need to tell you what he wanted to do, you just knew. So, you lifted your arms up and let him pull off your tank top. Then, you lowered your arms and let him unclasp and pull off your bra. He tossed the black lacy thing across the room before taking one of your nipples between his teeth; causing you to moan and arch your back.

Coryo chuckled against your boob, only to swirl his tongue around your nipple while palming at your cloth covered cunt. The friction was only enough to tease you, which drove you insane.

“Coryo, please, fuck me.” You beg in a mewling moan.

“Oh, I'm going to fuck you alright. I'm gonna fuck you til I blow your back out; til you learn some respect and get it into that goddamn stubborn skull of yours that you belong to me and ain't gonna be talking with no other dudes.” He darkly promises before trailing open mouth kisses down your torso. Swirling his tongue into your belly button, he quickly unbuttons and pulls off your jean shorts, leaving you in just your lacy panties.

Panties that won't be on for long.

You're not sure how long you've been fucking Coryo for, but you do know that the bed's soaked, the sheets are prolly ruined, and you're in your third? fourth? position of the night. You also know that your pussy’s a wet, weeping, swollen, oversensitive mess. Also, you're so cockdrunk that your brain’s just about turned to mush right now too.

“You’re not so mouthy anymore, are ya, bitch?” Coryo asks, pounding mercilessly into your pussy from behind as you lay bonelessly on the bed with a pillow propped under your lower belly/hips. The cool metal of his dog tags drags up and down your spine as he taunts you with, “Look at you, so cockdrunk that you're a dumb, submissive, little slut for me.”

“Mhm…” You garble out, drool pooling out of your mouth and onto his pillow.

“Fuck…your greedy cunt's creamin’ my cock so good. Got a thick creamy ring at the base, baby.” Coriolanus groans, harshly snapping his hips to thrust even deeper into your tight, abused hole. His breath is hot against your ear as he dirtily asks in a husky, deep, baritone, “You gonna soak my sheets again, you dirty little slut? Huh, babygirl? Gonna squirt all over my big balls as they slap against that puffy clit of yours?”

“Yes, yes.” You nod. “Coryo, ‘s feels good and too much all at once.” You tell him as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, causing your toes to curl and your fingers to dig into the sheets.

“Yea?” Coryo asks in a deep, throaty chuckle. “You can take it, tho, babygirl. You're my bratty lil slut and can take my dick like a goddamn champ.” He tells you, a moan caught in the back of his throat, as he ruts into you at an ungodly speed.

“Coryo…so close…” You gasp, feeling dizzy from getting your brains banged out by your possessive and primal weed dealer.

“Cum right now. Be my obedient good girl and cum all over my cock right now.” Coryo orders you in a deep, but firm tone.

His rough, lust-husky voice being so commanding sends you over the edge. You cum babbling his name over and over into the pillow your head’s resting sideways on.

Your moans and high pitch chants of “Coryo, Coryo, Coryo.”  is music to the dealer’s ears.

Coriolanus prides himself on how good he fucks you, on how he can make you cum multiple times; make you a crying, rambling mess just with his cock and by manhandling you into whatever position he wants you in. 

“I'm gonna fuck you til I fill that tight cunt full of my cum.” Coriolanus promises in a loud grunt as he plows into you, hard and deep. Little squeals fall from your lips as he huskily remarks, “Gonna knock ya up with my lil bastard.” His fingers dig deep into your hips, no doubt leaving bruises and crescent shaped marks. “We're gonna be able to collect all kinds of benefits once you're carrying my baby.” Coryo's icy eyes start to roll into the back of his head and his balls start to tighten up as he sloppily ducks into your tight cunt. “You're gonna look so sexy all full and round with my kid. You'll be glowing.”

One, two, three more fast thrusts and Coryo's filling your womb up with thick ropes of his hot, white seed. Instead of pulling out, he fucks his cum deep into you. He only pulls out once he's sure that every drop has been fucked deep into your greedy, awaiting womb.

You're a boneless, exhausted mess whenever Coryo's cock slips out of your overfucked and overstimulated cunt. A cunt that's still twitching. The platinum blonde dealer can't help, but smirk at your form laying on the bed all cockdrunk and fucked dumb.

He climbs down from the bed and goes over to your side. Pushing some sweaty strands of hair away from your face, he asks, “You good, baby?”

“Yea.” You barely whisper, nodding with a glassy-eyed look.

“I'll be right back. Gonna get something for ya to drink; something to clean you up with too.” Coriolanus told you before walking out of the room.

You smile as you watch his perfect ass leave the room and head down the hall. Yes, you'll admit that Coryo's ass is perfect. His broad shoulders, tapered slutty waist, and muscles are perfect too. Hell, the dealer’s an Adonis crafted by the ancient gods, that's how hot he is.

It doesn't take long for Coryo to return with a wet washcloth and a bottle of water that he's added some Liquid IV too. He usually drinks that stuff after a long night of heavy partying to afford hangovers, so he figures it'd be good as an aftercare drink. You can use all the electrolytes you can get after he went hard with fucking you.

After cleaning you off, he tosses the washcloth onto the bedside table and joins you in bed. He arranged your tires, fucked out body so that you’re snuggled into his side. Kissing your forehead, he reaches for the bottle on his bedside table. “Here, this’ll help hydrate you.” Snow says, handing you over the water bottle. 

“Thanks, Snowball.” You smile, taking the bottle from him. You open it and take a sip. “Ugh, what is this shit? It's not water, Coryo.” You ask, making a funny face from the weird taste lingering on your tongue.

“It's gold cherry Liquid IV.” He told you, only to tip the water bottle up towards your mouth. “It'll hydrate you faster than water, so drink it.”

“It doesn't taste like golden cherries.”  You mumble before taking another sip of the enhanced water.

“Stop complaining and drink it, Y/N. We don't want you passing out from being fucked too hard, now so we?”

You roll your eyes at him and take a longer sip from the water bottle. Passing it over to him, you say, “You should drink some too since you have the stamina of a stallion and nearly fucked me to death.”

“Don't be so dramatic, babe.” Coryo scoffed, taking the water bottle from you. “You like me fucking some manners into you.”

“Of course I liked it. I'd be stupid not to.” You tell him, watching as he gulps down the water. Better him than you drinking that stuff. Too bad he doesn't have any bottles of Gatorade in the fridge. Now that you wouldn't mind drinking.

“Got work or anything you gotta be up early for?” Coryo asks, capping the bottle bottle and placing it on his bedside table.

“No.” You shake your head against his chest. “Still haven't found anything yet, but I got an interview in a couple of days at The Hobb.”

“Yea…” Coryo trails off, only to firmly order, “You're not working there.” 

“Why not? It's a busy bar so I wouldn’t be laid off.” You pressed, needing to know his reason for not wanting you to gain employment at the biggest bar in Panem.

“It's not a bar, it's a honkey tonk.” Your dealer dryly corrected you. “And it's just not somewhere I want my girl working at.”

You raised a curious brow while looking up at the man whose arms are wrapped around you, whose side you're tucked into. “Since when am I your girl, Snowball? Thought you didn't do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

“I’m usually the type of guy that doesn't want a girlfriend, but, baby, it's different with you.”

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls you deal to.” You say in an attempt to brush off Snow's words; the seriousness of their nature. Because if he really has feelings for you, then you're screwed. Hooking up with a dealer and dating one; belonging to one's are two very very different things. Things that could make your already rocky life even rockier.

“Actually, babygirl, no, I don't say that to all the girls I deal to.” Coryo honestly admitted. His usually cold icy eyes melted into a crystal blue as he looked into your eyes. “Just you, baby, cause you're special to me.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[forgottenfourr]

i saw you in a dream - university smau

---------------

pairing: non idol!jeongin x gn!reader

summary: it is said that whenever you see someone in your dreams, whether you recognize them or not, it’s someone you’ve seen before in real life. most people don’t question the strangers that dance around in their minds as they’re fast asleep. normally, you wouldn’t give it a second thought either. but when the same stranger keeps appearing every night, each dream being another place you never want to leave. you can’t help but wonder who the person is and why they have suddenly planted themselves into your mind.

genre: strangers to lovers

characters: yn, all members of stray kids, beomgyu from txt, keeho from piwon, soul from piwon, & mingyu from svt

!! all individuals used in the story are characters based off of how i perceive/write them. what they say here in no way reflects who they are irl. they are simply just words on a page. !!

tw: angst, suggestive(?), a lot of swearing, jokes about death/die jokes, bullying (jokingly), brief mentions of dissociation, insomnia, anxiety, and depression

a/n: i'm not new to writing and especially writing smaus but this is the first time i have posted one on tumblr! all previous stories have been on twitter and ao3. i hope you enjoy :)

status: completed!!

---------------

---------------

the groups: haters at heart , sane people + binnie

---------------

index:

chapter one - shut up

chapter two - blue hair boy

chapter three - i think i know

chapter four - tomorrow at 4

chapter five - dreams✏️

2 new characters!! - character update/refresh post :)

chapter six - aftermath

chapter seven - ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

chapter eight - a break in trust

chapter nine - gone.✏️

chapter ten - selfish

chapter eleven - not off the hook✏️

chapter twelve - wtf

chapter thirteen - coincidence

chapter fourteen - impossible✏️

chapter fifteen - noted

chapter sixteen - you?

chapter seventeen - not a game

chapter eighteen - you're insane

chapter nineteen - a bad(?) idea

chapter twenty - ticking time bomb✏️ (mini chapter)

chapter twenty one - so what's the plan?✏️

chapter twenty two - and you are?✏️

chapter twenty three - ominous texter

chapter twenty four - none of your business

chapter twenty five - no big deal✏️

chapter twenty six - ♡

chapter twenty seven - two idiots

chapter twenty eight - how they see it✏️

chapter twenty nine - forgotten key

chapter thirty - always welcome✏️

chapter thirty one - what are we?

chapter thirty two - partners

chapter thirty three - be okay✏️

chapter thirty four - fuck it.

chapter thirty five - can we talk?

chapter thirty six - pink innie

chapter thirty seven - kitchen light

chapter thirty eight - you're an asshole, choi beomgyu✏️

---------------

tag list [closed]

---------------

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 4

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Our girls go on a lovely date and there's lots of gay tension.

content warnings: none

word count: 3.7k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Kate’s eyes are curious, roaming over Wanda like she’s looking for an answer to the flush on her cheeks and the small smile she keeps trying to stifle. Her brown eyes meet Wanda’s, a silent question in them as the redhead walks up to the group. 

“Hey, you guys,” Wanda says, feeling her blush return when both Vision and Paul look up. “I’m going to head back a little later, but thank you for helping with this photoshoot.”

Vision blushes hotly and stutters as he mumbles something that sounds vaguely like a thank you while Paul just smiles widely at her, his hands moving quickly as he dismantles a tripod. Kate fixes her with a look, before her hand is tight around her upper arm and dragging her towards the corner of the room. 

The feeling of Ms. Romanoff’s eyes on them settle underneath Wanda’s skin, the comfortable weight of those dark green irises causing her heart to pound. She’s acutely aware of the older woman’s gaze, but valiantly directs her focus toward Kate’s imploring gaze.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re staying here?” Kate asks, scoffing at Wanda’s attempt to feign confusion. “You hate big cities, Wands. Does this have something to do with Ms. I'm-Super-Hot-And-Intimidating over there?”

“Okay, maybe,” Wanda relents, her head snapping up as she processes. “Wait, what did you just call her?”

Kate waves her off, “That’s not important right now. What on earth did Ms. Romanoff say to get you to stay longer?”

“Oh,” Wanda flushes, risking a glance over at the woman. Ms. Romanoff’s green eyes stare intently back at her, the woman’s posture relaxed even as she crosses her arms, those forearms standing out and taking Wanda’s attention away from the conversation at hand. She coughs slightly, turning back to Kate, who regards her with an unamused look.

“She sort of, kind of… asked me out for coffee?”

“Oh my fucking god, Wanda.”

In retrospect, Wanda supposed that was kind of a big deal. After all, from her hours of research on the woman, she couldn’t ever recall Ms. Romanoff ever publicly dating anyone. Obviously the woman was extremely selective in every aspect of her life, given her all-blonde staff and art pieces she’s selected for her office. Wanda wondered what she had that appealed to the woman. 

Shaking off the self-deprecating thoughts that rose around her, Wanda looked back at Kate with a pleading expression. “Please don’t make this a big deal, I'm just… trying something new and putting myself out there.”

Kate’s incredulous look morphed into one of understanding, and she nodded slightly as a spark appeared in her eyes. 

“Alright, but I expect a full debrief when you get back home.” She started walking towards the boys again, pushing Wanda towards the CEO waiting for her near the door. “And that includes every detail, especially if you guys make out.”

Wanda doesn’t have time to berate her, the brunette quickly walking away while simultaneously shoving her further toward the door. She quickly steels herself, taking a shuddering breath and forcing her nerves down until they weren’t a pit on her stomach. 

She could do this. It was just a date, and Wanda had been on dates before. All those dates had been spectacular failures, of course. But, she knew what to expect and what sort of etiquette was appropriate. Plus, she could be cool and interesting when she wanted to be. 

Looking up Wanda made eye contact with Ms. Romanoff again, and stumbled slightly as her gait was thrown off. Yeah, she was really selling the ‘cool’ part of her new act.

Fuck that, Wanda was going to be herself. Obviously it had already started to work on the older woman, and what more did she have to lose?

“Hi,” Wanda says once she’s an arms-length distance from the woman, her voice softer than she’d intended. 

“Hello,” Ms. Romanoff replies, her tone laced with amusement. “Are you ready for our date?”

Flushing Wanda lets herself smile as a giddy feeling rises within her. Hearing the other woman confirm that this was, in fact, a date made her unreasonably happy. “Yes, let's grab coffee, I need some caffeine.”

“As do I.” The comment is casual, but Wanda can sense the undercurrent of warmth beneath it. It’s so different from the cold, detached manner in which Ms. Romanoff had spoken to her friends. This tone is friendly and bordering on familiarity. Wanda immediately wants to hear more of it. 

They walk to the elevator in an anticipatory silence, Wanda trying to come up with something to ask the woman that wasn’t completely lame. Honestly, it’s not like she could just ask the woman what her favorite color was, that was so… pedestrian. 

Wait. Why couldn’t she ask? Because she thought Ms. Romanoff would think her childish or immature for asking such a simple question? Wanda had only been around the woman for a total of around 45 minutes, but she knew the woman wasn’t one to judge on something so simple. 

“So, what’s your favorite color?”

Ms. Romanoff pauses, her fingers inches from the elevator button. She seems to shake herself, pressing the button before turning her body towards Wanda, regarding her intently. Wanda feels herself flush, sure that she’s just made a mistake, but holds the woman’s gaze resolutely. 

“Nobody has ever asked me that,” she says, her dark green eyes searching Wanda’s for a moment. Then, she smiles softly. It’s genuine and small, but Wanda’s heart swells at the sight of it gracing her lips. 

“My favorite color is burgundy, a darker shade of red.” 

“Mine is Carmine, a bit lighter in shades, but still red,” Wanda responds, smiling at the wonder in Natasha’s eyes. 

“Well, what a happy coincidence. We’ll never fight over color palettes,” Ms. Romanoff says, her eyes sparkling. 

Chuckling, Wanda nods. “I’m a fan of dark, earthy tones. If you couldn’t tell from my wardrobe.” She gestures towards her outfit, and Ms. Romanoff’s eyes travel down her green shirt and dark brown pants. They linger for just a second too long to be friendly, and Wanda doesn't find herself minding all that much. 

“I’m also a fan of a darker color palette, if you couldn’t tell from my office.” Those dark green eyes are shining with amusement, and Wanda just smirks as she remembers the muted tone of black and white. 

“We can work on adding some variety to your workspace,” Wanda counters, and a delighted look springs into the CEO’s eyes at the light-hearted jab. 

Those delicious, dark-red stained lips open to counter, but the elevator chooses that exact moment to arrive. The echoing ding startles Wanda, and she blinks as the doors open. 

Inside the elevator, a couple springs apart, their lips puffy and eyes wide. The girl’s face is flushed, and the young man next to her has mussed hair and his hands in front of his body, attempting to conceal his reaction to the obviously passionate make-out session they’d stumbled upon.

“After you,” Ms. Romanoff smirks and gestures with her hand, and Wanda flushes at the manners as she steps into the elevator. As the older woman moves into the small space after her, Wanda bites her lip at the smell of cinnamon wafting over her. There isn’t much room with the other couple, and she feels warmth spread throughout her entire body as Ms. Romanoff’s shoulder presses against hers. 

The air is still, the atmosphere awkwardly silent. The other couple stares guilty at the floor, and when Wanda risks a glance to her right, Ms. Romanoff has a hint of a smirk dancing on her lips. Unfortunately, the hotel the rich CEO picked doesn't play trashy elevator music, so they descend the floors to the tune of embarrassed silence and smooth jazz. 

Wanda struggles to keep a straight face and breathes a sigh of relief as the doors open on the ground floor. To her surprise, Ms. Romanoff takes her hand, lacing her cool fingers with Wanda’s. Pulling her with her, she strides confidently out towards the front door. 

“What is it with elevators,” The woman remarks in that low, raspy voice of hers, seemingly oblivious to Wanda’s stunned silence. She can feel her heartbeat racing, warmth flooding through her from where Ms. Romanoff’s hand is clasped against her own. The suppressed giggles of the couple sound out from behind them, but Wanda pays them no mind. 

Truly, the most attractive thing about Ms. Romanoff is her quiet, self-assured confidence. Wanda admires the way she walks with her head high, her words sharp but not unkind. She expects the best and doesn't accept any less, and Wanda once again wonders where she fits into the puzzle of the woman’s life. 

Outside, the sun is shining, a cool breeze making its way through Wanda’s hair as Ms. Romanoff gently pulls her towards the sidewalk. They walk for a bit, chatting about specific shades that make up the perfect color palette, when Wanda realizes something. 

No one has ever held Wanda’s hand, not like this. Ms. Romanoff hasn’t made any moves to remove her fingers, lacing them with Wanda’s as if it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Wanda feels lightheaded with giddiness. 

Is this what it feels like to be with someone who’s not ashamed or afraid to show her off?

They reach the coffee shop, and Ms. Romanoff slowly removes her hand from Wanda’s as she opens the door. She holds it open, and Wanda marvels once again at her impeccable manners as she’s ushered through the door. 

Stopping a few feet away from the start of the line, Wanda looks around as she attempts to gain her bearings. The coffee shop is large, the menu expansive and the music low as the sound of low voices fills the espresso-scented air. 

Ms. Romanoff stops just behind her and Wanda shudders involuntarily at the feeling of the woman pressing against her gently. 

“Why don’t you go find us a seat and I’ll order. What would you like?” 

Holy fuck. 

The sound of the CEO’s low words send a shiver down Wanda’s spine, an unknown feeling pooling in her gut. She can feel warm breath hitting her ear as the woman speaks, and knows that if she were to turn her head, those tempting lips would be mere inches from her face. God, she wants to turn her head, to see if the woman behind her would get just as flustered as she is at the sight of her lips close to hers. 

Wanda turns her head, hearing a sharp intake of breath as her eyes find Ms. Romanoff’s. The woman’s body has gone rigid, her eyes locked on Wanda’s lips for a second too long to be a mistake. Then, slowly, she drags her gaze up towards Wanda’s. It’s purposeful and intent, the heat of those eyes sending flashes of electricity shooting straight to Wanda’s core. 

Suddenly remembering the question she’d just been asked, Wanda speaks, keeping her voice low. This moment feels too personal, too… intimate to ruin.

“I’d like an iced chai with vanilla, please.” 

“A wonderful order,” Ms. Romanoff remarks, her eyes glancing down again, catching Wanda doing the same thing. Her smirk widens. “I’m partial to a hot mocha with cinnamon powder, myself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wanda murmurs, before she takes a deep breath and brushes her hand against the older woman’s waist. It’s light, her fingers barely applying any pressure, but the daring move has Ms. Romanoff’s eyes darkening and her tongue darting out to wetten those tantalizing lips. 

Leaning in slightly, Wanda hears the CEO’s breath hitch slightly. “I’ll go find us a seat.”

Pulling away, Wanda registers the shocked look on Ms. Romanoff’s face and grins to herself as she finds a quiet table near the window. She watches the woman from under her lashes, taking in the confident stance and light flush on her cheeks. A part of Wanda feels immensely proud that she was the one who caused that sort of reaction to the well-put-together woman. 

She wants to find every crack in that perfect facade and reveal them until Ms. Romanoff’s truest self is revealed, and she’s found one way to do so. Who knew that the woman was so thrown off by a little teasing? 

Wanda muses that Ms. Romanoff probably doesn’t expect teasing in return, given that most of the advances made so far between them have been made exclusively by the older woman. She’s deep in thought when a cup is placed before her, the comforting scent of chai reaching her nose as she blinks in surprise.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Flushing, Wanda racks her brain for an appropriate response. She couldn’t very well say, oh I was just thinking about if you would moan if I squeezed your hip, or if you get flustered when your bottom lip is bitten, or if you’re as controlling in the bedroom as you are in real life. She couldn’t say that, so instead she made something up. 

“I was wondering what type of perfume you wear.”

“Oh?” Ms. Romanoff gracefully takes her seat, raising a single eyebrow at her. It’s a silent command to continue, and Wanda chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to accidentally offend the woman. 

“You smell like cinnamon, which isn’t a common perfume scent,” Wanda begins, noticing the way Ms. Romanoff sits back in her chair as she regards her with interest. “So I was thinking about what sort of perfume you wear.”

“And did you come to a conclusion?”

“I did not.”

Ms. Romanoff hums in response, smiling as she sips her mocha. She doesn’t offer an answer, and Wanda doesn’t ask further. She’ll let the woman keep her secrets for now. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Wait. What?

“Who?” Wanda asks, confused. 

“The photographer.”

Ms. Romanoff’s relaxed pose tells a story of indifference, but the tenseness on her face and the way her eyes search Wanda’s tell a completely different tale. 

“Vision?” Wanda shakes her head, sipping her chai as she scoffs. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I sense derision.”

“Well, he’d like to be my boyfriend,” Wanda explains. “But I don’t…”

There’s a moment of silence, and Ms. Romanoff leans forward. Her attention is solely focused on Wanda, but instead of intimidated, she feels rather comforted. 

“You don’t, what?” The words are gentle, and Wanda takes another sip of her chai while blushing. 

“I don’t like him that way,” she finally says. It’s not the answer she really wanted to give, but it’s the one she feels comfortable saying. Ms. Romanoff nods once, understanding dawning on her features. She seems satisfied with Wanda’s response and doesn’t inquire anymore about Vision and his obvious crush on her. 

“How do you feel about me?” Ms. Romanoff asks, and Wanda nearly chokes on her drink. She hadn’t expected such a straightforward question, but after looking at the serious expression on Ms. Romanoff’s face, she decides to match the woman’s brutal honesty.

“I find you intimidating,” Wanda says, before she flushes and gazes intently at the lid of her chai cup. This cafe uses a strawless lid, one with an extra-wide mouth. She supposes they’re probably doing it for the sake of the environment. 

“You should,” Ms. Romanoff replies. “I appreciate the honesty, but please, don’t look away when I’m speaking to you. I like to see your face.” 

“I- you… like to see my face?”

“You have a wide range of expressions, it’s cute,” Ms. Romanoff smirks, her eyes glancing pointedly at Wanda’s reddening cheeks. “You’re a mystery to me, Wanda.”

“Oh?” Wanda asks, curious. She leans forward, “How am I the mystery between the two of us?”

Ms. Romanoff smiles at that, setting her drink on the table between them as she tilts her head. “You’re self-contained, you only show the world what you think it wants to see, not what you truly are.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Ah yes, but the difference between the two of us is that I’m a well-known public figure. Having an air of aloofness and mystery is essentially part of the job description. You, however, have the freedom to be whoever you want to be, to interact with the world however you choose. And yet, you remain private.”

Wanda blinks at the assessment, and Ms. Romanoff leans back in a manner that could be read as smug, if not for the gentle smile on her face. 

“Do you offer up personal observations like that?” 

“Are you offended?”

“No,” Wanda says slowly, considering what she was about to say. “But I have an observation of my own.”

There’s a spark of interest, and a bit of challenge in Ms. Romanoff’s dark green eyes. “Go on.”

“You like control.”

“I do,” she nods, “I exercise control in every aspect of my life, Wanda.”

“Including the part where you haven’t offered to let me call you by your first name?”

“Exactly.” Ms. Romanoff’s tone is far too smug for Wanda’s liking. God, the audacity of this woman. Everything about her screamed that she was in control of this conversation. Why did Wanda find that so hot?

The refusal to let Wanda call her by her first name was just another element of her control. Another way to show Wanda that they were not yet on the same playing field. And honestly, Wanda would’ve cared more if she didn’t find the power dynamic so appealing.

“What does your sister do?” Wanda asks, and judging by the way Ms. Romanoff’s eyebrows fly up, the woman is caught extremely off guard. Ha. Take that, Wanda can ask invasive questions too.

“She teaches a professional martial arts class in New York.” The response is clipped, short. Evidently, Ms. Romanoff isn’t pleased with the personal change of topic. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit New York,” Wanda says, and interest sparks in those green eyes across from hers, any signs of earlier irritation long gone. 

“It’s beautiful, especially in the fall.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, with Wanda eyeing the long fingers on Ms. Romanoff’s hand as it rests near the center of the small table. It would be so easy to reach over and rest her hand next to it, but Wanda’s never been that bold. So instead, she sits and sips her chai and wishes she had to bravery to grab Ms. Romanoff’s hand the same way the woman had in the elevator. 

As chat about lighter topics, Wanda notices that Ms. Romanoff’s knee is slowly pressing against hers underneath the table. She’s in the middle of talking about her finals when she first notices it, her words halting for a brief moment before Ms. Romanoff tilts her head slightly, prompting her to continue. 

It’s infuriating, and Wanda tries to suppress the heat that coils in her stomach with each passing second as she feels the pressure of Ms. Romanoff’s steady knee increase. It’s comforting, it’s arousing, and it’s throwing Wanda off balance. 

Well, Wanda can give the same energy right back. 

“So do you have a girlfriend?”

It doesn’t work. Ms. Romanoff remains as cool and collected as ever, the only evidence of surprise shown by her raised eyebrow. 

“If I was in a relationship, I would not have asked you out on a date, Ms. Maximoff.”

“So this is an official date?”

“It is.” Ms. Romanoff’s eyes sparkle with amusement, and Wanda smiles slightly.

“Just making sure,” she mumbles, finishing her chai. “Did it go well? Did I pass the test?”

“What test?”

To her credit, Ms. Romanoff sounds genuinely confused. Wanda immediately wishes she could take it back, but instead lets her mouth start talking without thinking. 

“I just meant… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been trying to pass some sort of test to be worthy of your presence ever since the interview.”

“Well,” dark green eyes find hers, shining with sincerity. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way. I am genuinely interested in you, Ms. Maximoff. I want us to be on an even playing field as we get to know each other, hence this public coffee shop.”

“Oh.” Wanda doesn’t quite know what to say, but something inside her chest settles. She smiles instead, that giddy feeling rising once again as she meets Ms. Romanoff’s eyes. Fuck, the older woman is so effortlessly beautiful. 

Standing, Ms. Romanoff offers her hand. “Shall we?”

Chuckling slightly, Wanda takes the offered hand, blushing at the comforting grip of Ms. Romanoff’s fingers clasped around her own. It feels so natural, her fingers interlocked with the older woman’s, and Wanda finds herself leaning into her. 

They walk back towards the hotel, their pace slow and perfectly in sync with each other. Ms. Romanoff’s cinnamon perfume gently wafts toward Wanda, enveloping her mind in a comforting sort of haze. She’s struck with the sudden desire to know everything about the other woman, to break through that outer shell and reveal the complex person she knows is buried deep within her. 

However, even Wanda knows that it’s too early to discover the secrets of Ms. Romanoff. So, instead, she turns towards the woman once they reach her car, and leans in. 

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” 

Ms. Romanoff lets out a small huff, her eyes closing briefly to avoid looking at Wanda’s lips, which are about an inch away from her own. 

“Ms. Maximoff, please refrain from teasing me.”

“Or what?”

Wanda barely has any time to gloat in the first crack she’s made to Ms. Romanoff’s facade before she’s being pushed backward and pressed against the side of her car. Those strong hands are on either side of her, trapping her between her car and the woman before her. She can see those muscles flexing underneath the silky fabric of Ms. Romanoff’s shirt, and hears her own shaky breaths as the woman leans in. 

Her lips are mere centimeters away, and Wanda is filled with the urge to taste them. God, they’re so… fucking… close…

“Or I will have to retaliate until you break and crumble beneath me.”

It’s official, Wanda is fucked.

Next Chapter

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @wandaspuppy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @subby-lesbian

[itzrafee]

A thing on Uran and Helena in Pluto

Okay a short little thing on Pluto. Uran and Helena are my absolute favourite characters in Pluto. Urasawa has always had amazing side characters, from Mr. Rosso in Monster to Lee Harvey Oswald and Jackie in Billy Bat to God in 20th Century Boys, but very few have tied off the emotional ends of the story like Uran and Helena.

Maybe I'm projecting here but much like myself I feel like Urasawa is absolutely obsessed with Frankenstein. And he recognizes the influence Frankenstein has on Dr. Umataro Tenma. Or at the very least, the similarities between the two. And so when he made the protagonist of one of his most popular works Monster, Dr Kenzo Tenma, he solidified that connection. Kenzo Tenma calls back to Victor Frankenstein needing to end his creation while also calling back to Japan's other famous Tenma, thus making the connection explicit. Another throughline between the three of them is that all three are father figures to their creations and have obligations to their children, though all three have varying levels of success with them.

I've only read what I like to call Urasawa's "Core Four", conspiracy minded thrillers that are essentially road trips featuring usually two main protagonists that we see the world through, Monster, 20th Century Boys, Pluto and Billy Bat. Though I still haven't caught up to Asadora and that could still possibly fit this mold, Urasawa's Core Four share a lot of themes and ideas. One of the most important being the responsibility for one's creations, whether it was Kenji Endo and the Book of Prophecy or Kevin Yamagata and Billy Bat or Dr. Kenzo Tenma and Johan, all of his protagonists could arguably be seen as someone with the need to take up the responsibility of their creations. So where do the protagonists of Pluto fit in there? That's where Uran and Helena come in.

But first, we should take a look at Pluto's themes. While I could be wrong, at a cursory glance, I feel like the general consensus towards it's themes is that it's about hatred. I don't really think that's what it is as I feel like Urasawa is more trying to show us what it is to be human and what it is to be alive. And in that, he has a hidden protagonist in Pluto. Someone who's influence snakes through the plot and isn't seen much, but without who the story's themes would remain incomplete. Pluto tackles what it is to be alive through many things, such as memory, sadness, grief, hatred, love and parenthood. But none of that works without the realization by Tenma of his own mistakes. And Uran and Helena bookend these revelations and are absolutley key to understanding that.

In my favourite chapter of the series, Chapter 37, Uran goes from person to person as she finds a way to deal with her grief and eventually comes across Tobio's grave, Tenma having left recently. It's an absolutely beautiful chapter that shows Uran's humanity and Urasawa's love for sharing these kind and soft moments. But it also sheds a light on Tenma as Uran realizes someone who was grieving has just left. Without saying much at all we realize that Tenma has finally realized his mistakes. In the process of grieving one son, he lost the other. While remembering Tobio, he let Atom go. His grief towards Tobio is clear in the following chapter, Chapter 38. All of the things he wanted Atom to be; Tobio come back to life, Tobio's ghost punishing him, Atom rejected. And Tenma could only see that rejection, and not what he had, another son.

Uran shows us very clearly what Pluto, the story, is. It's a chapter in their lives. And we've come into a story nearing the end for Tenma. And it's through the humanity of two absolutely amazing characters in their own right, Uran and Helena, that we are able to so fully understand Tenma. Despite being robots, these two characters are the most alive of everyone. They love fully and freely and are catalysts of change. Uran's vibrant and full of life in a way that really sticks out. And Helena has such depth that it's evident in every scene she's in. She's not pointed out to be made by any famous scientist so all the life she has is her own. These two represent the life of robot's more than any other characters in the series.

So it's that much more poignant when Helena finally breaks down after putting on such a strong front of everybody. Grief intersects and she brings out Tenma's sadness as well. They've both been putting up such strong fronts that it's heartbreaking to see them collapse. It completes Tenma's growth and strikes a heartbreaking contrast between the two. Tenma became the way he is through the loss of his son whereas Helena doesn't even get to remember her own loss. It makes you wonder if the grief for her and Geischt's child compounds her sorrow too.

Without these two and their grief, a large part of Pluto becomes inaccessible. Pluto is largely about death so when two characters come in who've never had a hand in the grim work of taking life, you see the world through a lens that's absolutely crucial in order to fully connect with all of the character's and their situations. Death and Grief has scarred the characters in Pluto. Time and time again they've chosen the worst path. They've chosen revenge and hatred. But Uran and Helena are different. Without them, the story is incomplete. They provide an alternative. They provide the path towards healing.

im sorry for this one:

[quack-quack-snacks]

Star Crossed - Chapter 4

❤️Happy Holidays all! Hope you all had a wonderful time and if you didn’t I hope sincerely that it gets better for you!❤️

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

The Star Crossed Masterlist

My All Of Us Are Dead Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

Warnings: Normal AOUAD things, Word Count: 7,717

“Gyeong-su…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat.

And the thoughts that Gyeong-su might not have one soon.

As Gyeong-su wiped his nose to find it bleeding, he brought his hands up to see black and purpled prominent veins growing from underneath the cuff of his undershirt and he looked at them in shock, shaking his head and mumbling indistinctly.

He stood up and breathed shakily as he tried to speak while his chair skid across the flooring. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong with me? Something’s wrong!”

You stood up from your chair and stood in front of him. You grabbed his hands and he looked you in the eyes. You nearly started sobbing on the spot as you saw the whites of his eyes turning red but swallowed down the lump in your throat before smiling at him.

“Y-yo…” you tried the first time but couldn’t get the words out so you cleared your throat and tried again. “You just need a t-tissue. It’ll be okay.”

He nodded as tears filled his eyes. The both of you knew you were lying but it was okay to be delusional sometimes… right?

He’d be okay… right?

If you just kept repeating that then he would be okay.

Everything was fine.

Gyeong-su was fine.

You were fine.

Right?

You frowned as you heard the scurrying of footsteps behind you while you reached into your pocket to grab one of the crumpled tissues you had from earlier and gave it to him but he couldn’t seem to grab it and it dropped to the floor.

“It’s not true…” You heard Cheong-san say from behind you yet you kept all of your focus on the boy who was in front of you.

“Come on. Get rid of him. Get rid of him now!” You heard Na-yeon scream and just as you were about to yell at her to shut up you felt someone grab you by the hand and pull you away from the boy.

“No, no…!” You tried to complain and weakly pulled against the hands restraining you, already knowing who it was. “Su-hyeok, he’s not. Gyeong-su’s not! I was with him for half an hour, he’s not!” You tried your best to convince him and looked up at him just to see him trying to keep a straight face while tears filled his eyes. “No!”

“Gyeong-su, stay where you are!” You heard On-jo say from behind you which brought your attention back to the group as Gyeong-su had rushed forward but everyone stepped back into a corner to try and avoid him like the plague. “Stay back!”

“I swear, I’m fucking not!” Gyeong-su begged and your heart broke at hearing the confidence in his words faltering.

“I’m sorry, Gyeong-su. Please, stay back.”

You watched as the remaining bit of hope in Gyeong-su’s eyes vanished like a flame being doused by water. “I’ve turned, right?” He asked, his voice quivering. “Cheong-san, what do I do?” He begged for guidance that none of you could provide, especially not Cheong-san who was dealing with the fact that his lifelong best friend was about to die at the hands of a virus that turned the kindest of souls into a flesh eating monster.

“No, no. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would you…” He started, just as confused and in denial as you were when On-jo came up from behind him and tried to pull him away.

“Cheong-san…!” She begged but he just yanked his hand back.

“Let go!” His voice broke as he was finally coming to terms with what was written in blood red ink in front of him. “This cannot be true. Why would you suddenly…?” He shook his head, false certainty refilling his voice as he stepped towards his friend. “No, no. Gyeong-su you weren’t-”

“Step away. Don’t come any closer!” Gyeong-su yelled as he ran backwards in an attempt to put distance between his friend and himself. You stopped struggling against Su-hyeok’s hold a while ago and just let him hug you to his chest while you watched in shock.

“B-but, you were fine. Gyeong-su, you were fine!” You tried to convince him and yourself when suddenly his neck cracked to the side.

Na-yeon looked around frantically as everyone stood there in shock as their friend turned right before their eyes. “Hey! What are you doing?” She sputtered out. “We need to kick him out! We’re all gonna die!” She screamed and you suddenly found the voice you’d lost before.

“Shut up! He-” your voice dropped from its screaming tone to one barely above being completely silent. “He just needs a tissue.”

“W-what’s happening…? Fuck!” You could hear Gyeong-su desperately get out as he gripped his head like it was pounding.

Na-yeon ran over to the door and yanked the umbrella away that was blocking it from being opened. “Get out. I said, get out!”

“Shut the fuck up!” He screamed before discovering a newfound determination within himself. “I’ll leave by myself! I’ll leave. I’ll go on my own!” He started sobbing. “Why would I bite you? We’re supposed to be fucking friends. If I… If I leave, it will be better for everyone.”

Every step he took towards the door you could feel more of your hope for him to be okay being lost.

“Gyeong-su,” Ms. Park spoke up and you looked over to see she had walked forward to the front of the group to speak to him directly. “Why don’t you just go into the recording room until we can figure out-”

Na-yeon interrupted her before she could finish. “If he stays in here he’s going to kill us all!”

“Na-yeon!” Your teacher screamed at her.

“I’m just trying to stay alive,” she whimpered out.

“I’ll leave. I’ll get out of here on my own,” Gyeong-su grunted out while breathing heavily and staggering towards the door, using the table and chair on his way to support him. He turned to look at everyone around him but his gaze stopped on your shocked one for a moment. “Don’t worry,” he started sobbing more and your vision started to get blurry with unshed tears. “I’ll get out of here.”

“Gyeong-su!” Cheong-san begged as his own eyes filled with tears that had yet to stain his cheeks. His lips quivered as he tried to remain strong in front of the group.

“It’s okay. Thank you for everything. Stay alive.”

Right as he tried to open the door to leave, he turned around and started looking at all of you in terror while thrashing around and mumbling things under his breath before his body contorted in strange directions, his bones creaking and breaking until he stood up and let out an unnatural roar and growled at all of you. Dae-su started walking towards him and both you and Su-hyeok tried to grab his arm to pull him back, knowing your friend was gone, until he shook you off and rushed forward when Gyeong-su’s empty shell of a body charged at the group standing by the speakers. He threw him against the table in an attempt to save himself as well as his classmates. Just as the monster who you briefly viewed as your friend was about to attack again, the sound of a familiar tune filled the air.

While everyone was focused on the fight, Cheong-san had managed to raise himself onto the window and grabbed a hold of the rope, hanging off the side of the building with only that to support him. He sang their tune, the tune of Auld Lang Syne, and the body of his old friend came rushing toward him before Cheong-san jumped out of the way just in time.

The group had sat in shock for a while until some started to cry. Cheong-san had gone into the recording room and threw the table to the ground in a fit of emotional turmoil. On-jo had walked up to the door for a moment before deciding to walk back and to just give him space.

A gut feeling told you space was the last thing he needed right now.

You walked away from the spot you had been leaning against the wall with Su-hyeok. You had been comforting him on the loss of his friend as you knew he was grieving right now and didn’t want to focus on your own pain. He and Dae-su had hugged and were currently exchanging tissues.

That was what you had learned to do the best. Block out the pain. Be the emotionless girl everyone knew and few loved.

You walked over to the recording studio’s door before taking a deep breath and walking in. You took slow steps as you entered and saw Cheong-san sitting right underneath the large window on the wall of the door. He’d been crying until you walked in, that much was clear by his red eyes, glistening cheeks, and sniffles. He’d wiped them away and turned to look in the other direction of you. You walked over to him and sat next to him against the wall. You both sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke.

“I’m fine, if that’s why you’re here. You can leave now,” he spoke rather harshly but this time it didn’t affect you as you knew he was on stage 2 of grief.

Anger.

“Go,” he told you, his voice breaking at the end and he pointed towards the door where you came from but you just looked at his hand before looking up to him.

You sighed and felt your nose and eyes stinging but pushed it down.

“You don’t have to be strong with me, you know?” He was taken aback by your words and looked visibly confused. You sighed before looking down at your fingers where they were playing with the hem of your vest. “I know none of you like me, and most of you think I’m like my brother,” you took a deep breath before you built the courage to look back into his eyes which looked even more astonished than before. “But in the short amount of time that I spent with Gyeong-su in this recording studio,” you gestured to the mess in front of you as you looked at the book and string Gyeong-su had been playing with before everything went down, now places in the corner of the room. “I’d like to believe I was able to call him my friend, and I’d like to be able to call you one too,” you looked back up at him once again to see tears had once again gathered along his waterline and he was looking at you with his lips quivering as he still tried to hold back his emotions. “So I’ll say it again,” you grabbed his hand from where it was resting on his knee and gave it a friendly and comforting squeeze. “You don’t have to be strong with me, Cheong-san.”

There were a few moments where the two of you sat there and stared into each other’s eyes before a teardrop streaked down his cheek. Another followed after that one, and then another, and then another, until he had started sobbing and you brought him into a hug while hiding your own tears which slipped onto his shirt. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t even try to think of something to say in a situation as bizarre as this one. You just held him in his time of grief.

After a few minutes when Cheong-san had calmed down, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and pulled away from you. Standing up, he lowered a hand down to you so he could help you up and you gave him a small smile as you accepted it.

The two of you walked out and Cheong-san gave you a smile before walking over to lean against the window, looking out onto the field. This time you let him be alone as you walked over to sit down next to Su-hyeok who was on the ground. You mirrored his position with your legs bent and your arms resting on your knees. Your shoulders were grazing ever so slightly and he leaned over to bump into your shoulder ever so gently. You looked over to him and he smiled at you. You couldn’t handle the softness in his gaze so you blushed and looked away, knocking your own shoulder into his as he laughed lightly.

“That asshole,” you heard Dae-su sob after a little while when the grieving atmosphere set in again. “Gyeong-su, why did you have to turn?”

Na-yeon opened her mouth and you just knew what she was going to say next would piss you off. “I told you all. He was infected.”

“Well, are you happy now?” Dae-su said as he looked at her in despair, you quickly stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He looked back at you and had a bit of a shocked look which you internally rolled your eyes at but stopped when he put one of his hands on top of the one you had resting on his shoulder. You smiled softly but it fell immediately when Na-yeon started talking again.

“You were all wrong. Only I was right. What would you even do without me?” Your head snapped over to her.

“Na-yeon. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up and let us mourn the loss of our friend. Don’t be heartless on top of being a bitch,” you told her and just as you looked back at Dae-su, you saw her roll her eyes and scoff.

Just as you were about to talk again, Nam-ra started speaking. “Hey,” she paused and you looked over at her. “Maybe you did it.”

“What?” Na-yeon questioned her in an annoyed tone.

Nam-ra grabbed everyone’s attention as she walked over until she was standing right in front of Na-yeon’s sitting form.

“I saw everything… Na-yeon,” Nam-ra told her, accusing her of something that had yet to be revealed.

Na-yeon stood up to be face to face with the class president. “What? What did you see?” She asked and seemed to get on the defensive quickly which had suspicion rising in your gut.

“You are the one who did it,” Nam-ra revealed, yet everyone was still confused.

“Who did what? I didn’t do anything to Gyeong-su,” she defended.

“I didn’t say anything about Gyeong-su,” Nam-ra told her, which kind of confused you.

It’s kind of inferred because we were talking about his death less than a minute ago, but okay.

“Knock it off!” Na-yeon told her, raising her voice a little.

“What are you talking about?” Wu-jin asked as Su-hyeok and Cheong-san - who were both minding their business - turned to look at the scene.

“I didn’t do anything,” Na-yeon insisted.

“While we were all watching Gyeong-su, you were in the back alone,” your friend explained, then turned and pointed at the broken mop that laid against one of the cabinets in the room. “You wiped that blood with your handkerchief.”

She hesitated before replying in a shaky and slightly fearful voice. “No, I didn’t.”

“You wiped that on the scratch on Gyeong-su’s hand.”

At Nam-ra’s explanation, everyone had a shocked look on their faces, unable to comprehend that their classmate was the cause of their friend’s death. Even you had nothing to say and your hand went limp on Dae-su’s shoulder, only being held there by his own, which tightened on yours.

“I did not,” Na-yeon tried again to defend herself but it was getting less and less convincing as Nam-ra was insistent on proving her to be the murderer of Gyeong-su. The innocent boy who was everything good yet died for nothing.

“It’s in your pocket,” the other girl voiced.

“So what?”

“Take it out.”

“No.”

“If you’re so innocent you’d take it out and show us,” you sneered at her and your hand closed into a fist while tightly gripping the fabric of Dae-su’s vest.

“I said no,” she insisted while looking at you and slapping away Nam-ra’s extended hand. You glared and she visibly shrunk in on herself.

“Should I take it out?” Nam-ra paused for a split second before reaching for Na-yeon’s pocket until the girl pushed her hand away and slapped her face, most likely a lot softer than she intended to.

“Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are? Huh? Class president?” She mocked before Nam-ra sent a hard slap across her face and her head snapped to the side.

“You never treated me like president.”

Despite the situation at hand, you smirked slightly as you saw your best friend standing up for herself and just being a complete badass. You let go of Dae-su’s shoulder and went to lean against the table beside where he sat.

“Nam-ra, that’s enough!” Ms. Park exclaimed as she sped-walked up to the two girls to break up the argument. She looked back and forth across the floor as she tried to figure out what to say before continuing. “Nam-ra, do you realize what you’re saying right now? If that is true, it means Na-yeon killed Gyeong-su.”

“It’s true. Na-yeon did it,” the girl confirmed. You looked over at Cheong-san as he watched. His eyes were filled with so many conflicting emotions: anger, sadness, betrayal, remorse. “She killed him.”

Na-yeon scoffed and rolled her eyes before she reached her hand into her pocket. “You fucking cunt,” she exclaimed angrily before throwing the handkerchief in Nam-ra’s face. Dae-su had to grab ahold of your sleeve to keep you from rushing forward. “There. Happy?”

Nam-ra, who seemed unaffected by Na-yeon’s treatment, reached down to pick up the cloth from the floor and inspect it. “This is blood.”

“I wiped Gyeong-su’s hand,” she claimed and you scowled as you could see the cloth.

“This is his blood?”

“You can’t tell?”

“If it was his fucking blood there wouldn’t be that much of it, you cunt. He’d stopped bleeding 10 minutes into staying in the studio room,” you told her and her eyes flashed with fear but her expression remained the same.

“Then put it on your wound,” Nam-ra told her in an attempt to show either her innocence or her guiltiness. “Wipe yourself with it if you’re so confident.”

You could see her searching for an answer. “Like his blood is so clean? He was a zombie.”

Nam-ra threw the cloth to the floor and stepped closer to her offensively. “He was just fine until you infected him with your handkerchief.”

“Na-yeon… you-” Cheong-san started and started marching towards Na-yeon until Su-hyeok held him back.

“Damn it! It wasn’t me!” She screamed while crouching down and picking up the handkerchief, hovering it above her wound as she looked around for someone to tell her to stop, that they believed her, anything for her to not do it.

Ms. Park, ever the mediator, ran up to her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand and the handkerchief away from her scrape, trying to pull it from her hands but Na-yeon resisted. “Don’t do it. Stop it.”

“Let go,” she whimpered as the teacher tried to yank it from her hands.

“I said to stop it. Give it to me.”

“Leave me alone! Fuck!” Na-yeon screamed while breathing heavily. She let go of the handkerchief and stood up with teary eyes. She looked across the room at everyone, “I should just die too then, huh? That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Nobody answered and so she sighed, looking away before turning back. “Why is Gyeong-su better than me? That dirty welfie pushed me,” she whimpered.

“You little cheat!” You yelled at her while trying to rush forward but Dae-su was still holding onto your sleeve. Su-hyeok abandoned his spot as the one to hold back Cheong-san to wrap his arms around you, restricting any movement of your arms while you struggled and kicked your feet.

“Na-yeon,” Park said after a while of silence, “You didn’t…”

“So you did do it,” Cheong-san spoke, devastated, until he raised his voice to yell at her. Dae-su rushed forward to hold him back. “How could you fucking-”

“I didn’t kill him, okay?” She insisted and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears with rage. Rage and loss. “Gyeong-su fell, but he got up and ran. He’s still alive. He didn’t die, he just turned.”

“You mother fucker! They’re the exact same fucking thing!” You yelled out at the same time On-jo spoke.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Stop ganging up on me!” She whined and threw her hands around like a toddler having a tantrum. “When I said he smelled, you all laughed. You all made fun of him too. Don’t try to act all innocent now.”

You thrashed around harder as you felt your eyes burning and your cheeks wet and you finally realized you were crying.

It had been a while since you’d done that.

Dae-su lost his grip on Cheong-san and he ran towards Na-yeon, Su-hyeok unable to stop him because of you in his arms already.

The boy pushed the girl to the ground and breathed heavily. “How could you kill him?” He screamed while Ms. Park told him to stop it. Na-yeon kept her head down.

“You’re… a murderer.”

Her head lifted and you saw tears falling down her face but you had no sympathy at all.

“I have no friends at all,” she whimpered out.

“I wondering fucking why,” you growled.

“I don’t need any of you. Fuck you,” she then stood up and shakily walked out of the room, Wu-jin rushing after her just as the door closed and Ms. Park moved to stop him.

“Listen,” she started and you were finally released from Su-hyeok’s grip after you stopped struggling. “No matter what happens, you stay alive. Also, you must never take a life. If you cause someone else to die, life becomes meaningless.”

She looked at you all with a remorseful and fond gaze and you were sure you knew what she was about to do. “All right?”

“Ms. Park?” You whispered shakily and she looked at you with a small smile before turning and running out the room, rushing after Na-yeon.

“Ms. Park! Wait!” Dae-su yelled and ran towards the door and Wu-jin held him back to the best of his ability.

“Dae-su, don’t go!” he begged.

You had never felt so helpless. Your feet seemed to be glued to the floor and your eyes stuck to the door where she had stood only moments ago.

Dae-su started sobbing into Wu-jin’s shoulder and your heart broke for him.

“Fuck!” You heard Cheong-san scream followed by the banging of his fist against a computer. You didn’t have the energy to stop him, even though you knew if he did it too much he could seriously injure his hand.

You were sitting in the corner next to Su-hyeok who had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest as you were too much in shock to cry; again. You saw On-jo walk up to Cheong-san as he was staring out the window but you couldn’t hear their hushed whispers.

“I feel like it’s my fault,” you said suddenly, only a breath above a whisper. Su-hyeok looked down at you in surprise and confusion.

“What’s your fault?”

“Gyeong-su.”

He sat up from his leaning position against the wall, bringing you with him, and looked you in the eyes. “How is it your fault? You didn’t do anything!” He tried to convince you, still whispering so the others wouldn’t butt their way into your business .

You let out a sad laugh as you felt your nose burning. “Exactly. I didn’t fucking do anything,” you wiped your nose slightly with the back of your hand to subside the sting. “I didn’t notice what she was doing. If I only noticed and was a little more attentive then Gyeong-su would be alive! It’s my fau-”

“No,” Su-hyeok insisted as he brought your head back into his chest to keep the guilty thoughts at bay. His heartbeat worked just enough for your soul to take a breath. “No, (Y/n). It’s not your fault. How could you have possibly known what she was going to do. You didn’t need to be attentive at that moment because it was someone who was supposed to be loyal to the group and not fucking kill someone. That is not your fault. Thinking like that will just drive you insane.”

At his words, a small sob escaped your lips and your body started to shake with your silent tears as he trailed his hand up and down your back. His lips were pressed against the crown of your head as he whispered the reassurances that you were needing.

After you calmed down and wiped away the tears on your face with your sleeve, you sat up and gave Su-hyeok a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you breathed.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

It was then you noticed how close the two of you were, faces only inches apart and you could see his eyes travel from your own down to your lips a few times. You backed away with your cheeks flushed and gave him a small smile. He seemed delighted with the effect he had on you and that made your cheeks burn even hotter.

“I’m going to go sit by Nam-ra, I haven’t really spoken to her much in the past day,” you told him, avoiding eye contact as you stood up.

“Okay,” he smiled and got up himself before winking at you and walking over to lean against the counter where Wu-jin was sitting. You took a breath to cool your cheeks and calm your nerves before going over to sit next to Nam-ra.

“Hey there, prez,” you greeted and she met you with a cheeky grin.

She nudged you in the side. “Hey there, lovergirl. How’s it like in paradise, hm?” She teased in a whispered voice and you covered your face with your hands.

“Stop that, we’re just friends!” You whined softly and she giggled for a moment until her face slowly fell back into a frown.

You didn’t want to ask if she was okay because you knew the answer would be no. Nobody was okay right now, Nam-ra wasn’t any different. Instead, you just grabbed her hand and held it in your own affectionately while she leaned her head on your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a while until Cheong-san spoke up and broke the silence. “I didn’t hear anything at all. I just couldn’t hear anything.”

“Like what?” Su-hyeok asked but Cheong-san didn’t lift his gaze from where he stared at the floor.

“I mean after Na-yeon went out and then Ms. Park went after her. I didn’t hear anything after that.”

“You mean, screaming?” Su-hyeok asked and Cheong-san finally looked up at his friend to confirm.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe they didn’t die, then. They wouldn’t have been quiet if zombies were biting them,” Dae-su spoke his thoughts. “They must be alive.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment while everyone else stayed silent and he huffed in annoyance, feeling left out. “Why won’t you respond? No one answers me. I’m always talking to myself,” he looked down and played with his tie. You couldn’t help feeling bad even though you were the only one to acknowledge his thoughts, albeit with only a hum.

Just as you were about to say something, On-jo beat you to the punch. “I think you’re right.”

“Forget it,” Dae-su waved her off with an eye roll but she continued.

“I didn’t hear anything either.”

“Me neither,” Hyo-ryung threw in her own thoughts. “ I was scared because I didn’t know how I’d feel if I heard them screaming, but I didn’t hear anything.”

“Come to think of it, neither did I,” Joon-yeong added.

“Then I’m right. They’re alive, right?” Dae-su asked and Joon-yeong nodded in confirmation.

“Should she be alive?” Ji-min asked angrily and you turned slightly to look at her, Nam-ra still resting her head on your shoulder, unmoving.

“What do you mean?” Joon-yeong asked.

“She’s a murderer. She killed Gyeong-su and walked out of here on her own. Is it even right for her to be alive?” She asked angrily, using rage as a coping mechanism for everything that was happening. “Aren’t you all being fake?”

“What about Ms. Park? Should she have died too?” Wu-jin questioned and Ji-min was quick to reply.

“Is that our fault?”

“Either way, we’re responsible for what happened,” he argued.

“Why is that? What did we do wrong?” She asked and you turned back to looking at your hands which were interlocked with Nam-ra’s, unable to look at the emotion in Ji-min’s eyes anymore. “Na-yeon killed someone, then played the victim, and chose to leave on her own. All because we didn’t listen to her,” She defended her own argument and Wu-jin remained silent. “If no one’s on your side, is it okay to kill?” Everyone stayed silent as they churned her question over in their brains. “Ms. Park acted like we were wrong. We didn’t tell Na-yeon to go out there. We didn’t tell Ms. Park to go out there, either. Why should we feel bad? What the hell did we do wrong?” Hyo-ryung leaned over to hug Ji-min and comfort her but the hand she placed on her shoulder was shoved off.

You noticed On-jo looking down at the table and a teardrop falling down her cheek and you reached over to grab onto her hand with your free one, squeezing gently. Surprisingly, she didn’t look shocked by your movements or the fact that you would do something like this, she just gave you a watery smile and sniffed before slightly wiping her nose on the sleeve of her slightly bloodied jacket.

Speaking of jackets, you realized you still didn’t have your own after using it to cover up Hyeon-ju when she came into the classroom. Although it wasn’t cold right now, you were sure it would be later, especially with the broken-open window.

“Hey,” Su-hyeok spoke up and interrupted everyone’s thoughts. “I feel weird saying this, but-”

He was interrupted when Wu-jin smacked his stomach. “Don’t say it.”

Su-hyeok groaned and took a strange moment of silence before continuing with what he was going to say. “Does anyone else have to go to the bathroom by any chance?” Nobody responded. “Am I the only one?”

Dae-su raised his hand slightly. “I do.”

“We have to go, too, actually. But we can’t go out,” Hyo-ryung spoke on behalf of her and Ji-min.

“I also have to go,” you added in and everyone’s head snapped towards you, making you shrink back in on yourself and press your cheek against the crown of Nam-ra’s head in embarrassment.

Joon-yeong sighed before pressing his forehead against the table.

“I’ve had to poop for a while,” Dae-su spoke up again and you held back the smile that threatened to take over your face.

“Dude… that’s… ew,” Wu-jin told him as he threw a pencil at him which was placed near his sitting spot.

“Why are you blaming me for this? Su-hyeok’s the one who brought it up. Poopings not a crime.”

“It’s not a crime, but-” Wu-jin told him with an amused face.

“But what? Don’t you need to go?”

“Yes, I do. Not poop, but, you know…” He informed.

“What about you?” Dae-su asked Cheong-san as he pointed at him, pleading for anyone to be on his side.

“I don’t… Pooping? No.”

He turned to Hyo-ryung. “Don’t you need to go?”

“Why are you asking me?” She whined.

“Why are you getting annoyed?” He shot back.

“What do you want from us? We can’t go out, anyways.”

Dae-su sighed deeply before his eyes caught on yours and he shot up straight. “(Y/n)!”

You smiled, amused, and Dae-su looked ecstatic at your expression. “Yes, Dae-su?”

“Do you need to go? Do you need to poop?” He asked, practically begging you to agree.

Your head tilted a bit as you looked up while thinking. “Yes,” you finally replied.

His hands shot up in victory. “Really?”

“No,” you laughed and he deflated like a balloon back into his seat with a playful glare. “I do have to go though.”

He sighed out again before he looked at the window. “I have an idea.”

You sighed and slapped your forehead, knowing exactly where he was going with this and not liking it one bit.

Dae-su walked up to the window, leaning against it slightly. “First, the girls and the guys will take turns.”

“Where?” Hyo-ryung asked, not understanding the context clues or deliberately being ignorant in hopes of him choosing a different answer.

He looked at her before gesturing to the window in front of him. “Here.”

She scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“Stop it, man,” Cheong-san said and rolled his eyes at Dae-su’s strange suggestion.

“Why?” The boy asked with a slight whine. “The girls can wait in the other room, and the guys can just pee out the window.”

“What about… poop?” Wu-jin and you groaned out while shrinking in on yourself as you were sure you knew exactly what his idea would be.

He pointed at Wu-jin before looking back at the window. “Poop. Well…” He was silent for a moment as he thought before he slapped the frame in realization. “You can take your pants off and hang out the window,” he explained and climbed up the window so his butt was hanging off on one side while he held onto the window frame. “Like this.”

You couldn’t help yourself from snorting at his demonstration. “Outside!” He went on as you hid your smiling face underneath the collar of your green sweater. He stepped down from the window. “Like you’re taking a dump off of a cliff,” he then squatted down before continuing. “Like this.”

“What reaction is he hoping for?” You heard Wu-jin whisper before you spoke yourself.

“You seem to know a lot about this, Dae-su,” you teased. “I’m guessing you’ve had a lot of experience with pooping off of cliffs.”

He looked at you with an unamused look and you couldn’t help yourself from bursting out into laughter that everyone else joined in on as Dae-su rolled his eyes in annoyance. Nam-ra lifted her head from your shoulder and hid her smile behind her hand.

“I’m being serious!” He exclaimed over the laughter.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Hyo-ryung told him with an eyeroll after she calmed down.

“But someone has to hold you, so you don’t fall!” He quickly added when he saw a break in the giggles.

“How are you going to wipe your butt?” Joon-yeong asked him.

“Well, someone else should.”

“What is he saying?” Hyo-ryung facepalmed.

“Idiot.”

“Let’s just hold it,” Ju-min told everyone. “If the rescuers come-”

“It’ll take a while for them to get here,” On-jo looked at her as she interrupted her before looking down at her hands woefully. “It may be the same outside of the school.”

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The joking and laughter filled atmosphere was replaced with the sullen one as everyone thought of the situation they were still in.

“I don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here, but my dad always told me to separate the bathroom from where you sleep if you find yourself stranded,” On-jo continued, sounding like she had an idea.

“What do you suggest?” You implored.

“We create a makeshift bathroom for the time being,” she said confidently.

“Where will we create a bathroom and how?” Ji-min inquired, confused.

“Right there,” On-jo pointed to the recording booth and everyone turned to look.

“That’s smart, if we do some things to make it more private it could be the perfect place to make one. Good thinking,” you praised her and she blushed slightly as she looked back down to her hands while a small smile graced her features. You stood up with a slight hop before turning to On-jo and clapping your hands together. “Okay, boss lady! First order of motion?”

She tried to hide her smile but failed as a small laugh escaped her. She stood up herself and turned to look at the group of girls. “Nam-ra and you guys, try to look for something to cover the window.”

They nodded before scattering across the room to find things they could use.

“Cheong-san and Joon-yeong,” both boys turned to her at their names being called. “Make something that can absorb urine and feces to use as a toilet,” they nodded and got to work. “And then the rest of you…” she paused, knowing they needed something else but not sure what it was.

“A screen?” You suggested and she snapped in your direction in appreciation.

“Yes! A screen.”

“A screen?” Wu-jin asked to confirm in slight confusion and On-jo nodded.

“Yes, a screen to block.”

Wu-jin, Su-hyeok, and you walked into the recording booth and looked around. The both of them seemed stuck on what to use but you saw something immediately.

You walked over to where a few filing cabinets were and started moving one of them so it was positioned parallel to the wall with the window. Going over to start moving the second one, Su-hyeok realized you had been doing the work while they were just watching. He slapped Wu-jin’s chest before jogging over to you with a smile.

“How about you two move that one,” you pointed over to another filing cabinet on the other side of the room. “And I’ll move this one so they can be ‘walls’ on each side of that one,” you then pointed to the previous filing cabinet you had moved which was across from the window.

Su-hyeok frowned before moving over to where you were and going on the other side of the filing cabinet you were about to move. You reached over to smack the back of his head. “I don’t need help, idiot. Go help Wu-jin,” you pointed to where Wu-jin was struggling to move the filing cabinet on his own despite trying to seem like he wasn’t. Su-hyeok turned and rubbed his head where you smacked him before you could see the smile and blush that blessed his cheeks. He mentally slapped himself.

All she did was slap me on the head and call me an idiot, why the fuck am I smiling?

You laughed as you watched him walk away and he blushed harder at the sound of it.

Oh… that’s why.

After moving the two filing cabinets, you moving yours comically faster than the two boys did and rolling your eyes before helping them, you walked out of the room to see Dae-su laying his head down on the table. Cheong-san and Joon-yeong were almost done with what you assumed was the makeshift bathroom.

You walked over to them and rested a hand on Joon-yeong’s shoulder as you leaned over to look at the basket. “Is this the homemade toilet?”

Joon-yeong jumped at first before relaxing. “Yeah, we’re trying to figure something out for where to sit, though. With just this, everyone would probably just have to hover above it.”

You nodded and looked around for a second before something caught your eye and both of them lit up. You practically skipped over to the seat next to Dae-su and grabbed his neck pillow from where it was resting and walked back over to the two boys.

“Put this on top, I think this might be the best option we’ll have,” you suggested and placed the pillow on top of the rags in the basket.

“Dae-su's got a big butt, so let's…” he said as he opened up the button that held the two ends of the pillow together and spread it a bit.

“Perfect!” you smiled and opened the recording booth’s door for the two of them as they brought the basket inside. Walking over to where Nam-ra, On-jo, and the rest of them had set up a little circle of chairs, you sat in the one next to where Nam-ra was standing just as everyone was rushed out of the room by Su-hyeok who slammed the door harder than he probably intended to. You laughed.

“Do you want to sit down? I can pull up another chair,” you suggested to your best friend but she just politely shook her head with a smile. You held your hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, if you say so.”

After a little while, it was your turn and you used it quickly before grabbing a hand sanitizer bottle from one of the cabinets and pumping a little into your hand.

“Oh, thank god!” You heard and turned around to see On-jo, followed by Hyo-ryung, beside you. “I was worried about that. Even if we’re in a zombie apocalypse, I don’t really want to go to the bathroom and not wash my hands,” the bob hair cutted girl said in relief before holding her hand out. You put some in her hand and then some in On-jo’s as well and both grinned at you gratefully.

The bottle got passed around as everyone took a little and then started chatting.

“At least there are cops and soldiers out there, right?” Hyo-ryung questioned hopefully.

“But if you watch the movies, they can’t do anything either, right?” Wu-jin answered with his own question.

“I’m hoping that this situation will be different from the movies, that this thing will have a cure and everyone outside of the school is doing just fine,” you muttered with slight optimism. Hyo-ryung smiled at you and grabbed your hand.

“Exactly, and they always save everyone in the end.”

The door slammed shut and you noticed Joon-yeong, who had been standing outside of the door, waiting for his turn, had gone inside and Dae-su was standing on the other side with the tissue box you all had designated at the toilet paper in his hand.

Everyone’s face had turned sour as the smell of the recording booth flooded out with the small time the door was open.

“Shit!” Su-hyeok exclaimed as you all plugged your nose or wafted away the stench with your hand. “Why don’t you just stay inside?”

“Does it smell?” Dae-su asked cluelessly.

The door to the studio opened again before slamming as Joon-yeong came running out. “S-shit.”

“What?” Dae-su asked again as Joon-yeong ran towards the window to get some fresh air. “Stop being so dramatic. It doesn't smell at all.

“Oh, it does more than just smell. I’m pretty sure the zombies will bust down the door just because of that,” you joked and grabbed a piece of paper from behind you to use as a fan and blow away the air.

“Sit somewhere else,” Hyo-ryung demanded as Dae-su sat in the seat next to her but he just ignored her and she rolled her eyes.

You looked up at Nam-ra and saw that she was just staring off blankly out the window. “What’s up? What are you looking at?” You asked her.

She took a breath and hesitated before speaking her mind. “There’s nobody there. There are no lights on in the stores and apartments out there. They all ran away.”

“Or died…” You added depressingly.

“What do you mean by that?” On-jo quizzed.

“No one’s coming here to save us,” Name-ra stated.

“Why do you have to be so pessimistic?” Joon-yeong asked as he shifted uncomfortably under the change of tone in the air.

“Don’t you know my mom?” She shifted so she was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. “She would’ve torn the school apart looking for me, but she isn’t here yet.”

“So, what do you wanna do?” Ji-min asked in a bitter voice and Nam-ra turned to look at her, annoyed.

When you realized she wasn’t going to reply, you replied on her behalf. “I think she’s just trying to point out the facts, even if they are depressing,” you looked up at Nam-ra to see if your assumption was correct and she nodded.

Ji-min turned to face you. “We all know that no one’s coming. So I think we should just figure out what we’re gonna do next.

“We have to wait to be rescued,” On-jo vocalized. You all looked to her and you especially knew that she might have the best knowledge of what to do in a situation like this considering she had some information passed down to her from her dad. “We can’t leave somewhere safe to go somewhere dangerous.”

“But from the place where we are right now, we’re not exactly in a visible spot for someone to see and rescue us from,” you told her, knowing that even if rescuers showed up to save people, they would most likely go to the roof first before anywhere else if at all.

“And what if nobody comes?” Nam-ra added on and you nodded.

“We haven't been waiting that long yet,” the girl insisted as she stared up at her.

“How long do you think we have to wait? Do you think we should wait until we die?” Nam-ra asked in a slightly snarky tone which you winced at but didn’t make any move to interfere.

“No,” On-jo clarified. “I’m saying let’s wait as long as we can.”

“But when will we know when we can’t?” You asked and On-jo just looked at you, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she looked down at her lap.

“I don’t know… but there’s no way we can go out right now, anyway.”

“It’s probably because it’s nighttime. I’m sure somebody will come in the morning, maybe. There are a lot of choppers flying around,” Su-hyeok pointed out and everyone looked out the window to inspect the sky for a second before leaning back. He let out a sigh. “Let’s just wait until tomorrow, and we’ll see.”

Everyone nodded in agreement when Joon-yeong took in a deep breath and ran back into the recording studio while plugging his nose which you and Hyo-ryung slightly giggled at. Su-hyeok looked down with a smile at the sound but you didn’t notice it from how you leaned forward to talk to Hyo-ryung. You also didn’t notice the questioning looks that On-jo passed back and forth between you and Su-hyeok.

~~~

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |

~~~

Taglist!

@multifandom-lover01

@justmare

Lmk if you want to be added or removed!

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (13)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean, angry reader, Mary being a bitch

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (12)

“Did you pack everything, Michael?” You lovingly run your hand over your son’s head. Moving back to the States won’t be easy. It will be a hard piece of work to leave your old life yet again.

Nothing is ever easy with Dean Winchester in your life. He’s like a tornado coming into your life to turn everything upside down.

“Can we stay with Dad and Uncle Sammy? Dean told me so much about his home and Baby! Mommy, he’s got an Impala called Baby and…” He trails off, suddenly falling silent. “Sorry, mommy. You already know that.”

“It’s alright, baby boy.” You softly kiss the top of his head. “Have a look around your room. We don’t want to miss something. We will stay for at least a week or two, okay.”

“Hmmm…okay.” He nods before running off to his room to check if he forgot something.

“Uh-do you really want to meet up with Bobby for a job?” Sam pokes his head inside the living room. “Maybe you can fix things with Ketch, or at least find a new, and better position here, the UK.”

“One could believe that you don’t want Y/N to come with us,” Dean grunts while his brother tries to make sure you’re not making a hasty decision. “She wants to meet up with Bobby. You like Bobby. He’s a good man and an even better employer. If she wants to work for him, it’s none of your business.”

“Guys, can you not fight? I had a lot to prepare before our flight. You are still butting heads like kids,” you snort when Dean gives his brother the stinky eyes. He purses his lips and wildly gestures at your tits. “Dean, my eyes a little higher.”

“I didn’t point at your boobs,” he says but glances at your cleavage. Dean hums, and subconsciously licks his lips. “Even though, they are nice to look at.”

“Dude,” Sam huffs. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean shrugs. “It’s the truth. Now, back to packing things. Do you need more, sweetheart? I can get some boxes and pack everything up.” He grins, giving you puppy dog eyes.

Sam tries to stop his brother from saying something making you change your mind. “Dean…” He sighs. “Slow down.”

“No, Sammy. I gotta bring her away from that douche. He’s got grabby hands. I won’t let him touch her.” Dean harrumphs. He hates Arthur Ketch with passion.

“That is enough, Dean!” You grab his ear, tugging hard. Dean winces and tries to grab your wrist, but you only tug harder. “I decided to go back to the State to work for Bobby. Not yours, or anyone else’s. There’s a lot to consider and organize before I can even think of moving back to the States.”

“Can you stop fidgeting?” You watch Dean nervously shift in his seat. “Dean, the seat is more than comfortable. This is the first class.”

“How’d you pay for it?” Sam watches you get a credit card out of your purse. You smirk and toss it at him. “Is that a company card?”

“Arthur decided that he doesn’t want to let me go. He insists that I retract my two weeks’ notice. Arthur is not very mature when it comes to rejection, it seems. He told me he’ll do anything to keep me at his company.”

“So, you use the company card to pay for your flight?” Dean snickers. “I love how you think. Even better, you can be so devious.”

“I don’t think that’s legal, Y/N,” Sam, ever the lawyer throws in. “What if he takes legal action?”

“He can eat shit,” you snap at Sam. “I won’t play by his rules any longer. I’m officially on my way to discuss another deal with Bobby Singer. If I invite a few friends to join me on my flight, it’s justified.”

Dean grins proudly. He’d done the same if he was in your shoes. “No swear words in front of the kid,” he says, but chuckles. “We cannot use fecal language when Michael is around.”

You huff and lean back in your seat, closing your eyes to get some sleep. Michael is already asleep, and Sam is close to drifting off himself. Only Dean is antsy and cannot calm down. Not only because of his problem with airplanes but the fact that you are so close too.

“DADDY! We’ve missed you.” You smile when Sam’s kids run toward their father. He immediately wraps his arms around the screaming bunch to hug them. His wife, Jess, shakes your hand while you ask her if Michael can stay here for today. You don’t want to leave him in the hotel room you booked or drag him around.

Holding his kids in his arms Sam sighs. “I’ve missed you too,” he says and hugs them a little tighter. The last days made him see how lucky he truly is. He had the chance to watch his kids growing up and has the love of his life by his side.

“So, Sammy,” Dean clears his throat. “Can Michael stay here and meet his cousins? Y/N wants to talk to Bobby and mother.” He spats the last word.

Jess holds out her hand for your son. “Of course, he can stay here as long as he wants to,” she says when he takes her hand. “How about we go inside, and you can introduce yourself to your cousins, Michael?”

Sam and Jess walk inside their home with your son and their children. You watch them go with a sad expression. You and Dean could’ve had what they have. He’s a little chaotic, and sometimes a mess, but Dean has a good heart.

If only Mary didn’t manipulate your relationship back then…

“How did it go?” Dean asks when you walk out of the building of Bobby’s company. “Did you get the job? Bobby didn’t leave you hanging, right?”

“I got the job, and he will help me find a place to stay,” you tell Dean if only to stop him from asking more questions.

“I know you don’t like me much, but I can help you too. Sammy is good at house hunting, and I’m good at renovating things. You know that. We can help.”

“Dean—” sighing deeply you look at Dean. He offered to drive you around, bringing Baby on purpose. Dean wanted to bring old memories back up. “Can we just drive?”

He raises his hands in surrender and nods. “Where to now?”

“Your mother’s place,” you say, venom in your voice. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never find the courage to face the villain of your story. “I have a lot to discuss with her. And Dean…”

“Yeah?” He furrows his brows. “What can I do for you?”

“I need a ring, with a big diamond. And for you to not say a word. Leave this to me…”

Dean comes back twenty minutes later. He opens his hand to reveal the engagement ring you left behind years ago. You swallow thickly but take the ring to put it on your finger.

“What are you up to?” He asks while following you toward his mother’s house. Dean wonders if he should stop you from confronting his mother. Mary is not going to admit her mistakes or ask for forgiveness.

You smile sweetly, but there is a dangerous glimmer in your eyes. “Revenge,” you say, and grab his hand. You interlace your fingers with his and put your sweetest fake smile on.

“Knock, baby,” you coo, before Dean can chicken out. He starts to sweat but raises his fist to knock. “I will so enjoy this.”

The door opens moments later. Mary looks at her son, smiling because she believes he came back to apologize. But then, her eyes land on you. Your fingers interlaced with Dean’s.

“What are you doing here?” She spats your way. “I didn’t invite you.”

“I wanted to thank you for bringing Dean back into my life,” you let go of Dean’s hand to show off the diamond ring on your finger. “Who would’ve thought that burning the message I left to tell Dean about his unborn son would bring us back together, huh?”

You smirk, seeing the struggle on her face. “I have a grandson?” She hiccups. “No, this is impossible.”

“No,” your eyes grow cold, and you deepen your smirk. “You don’t have a grandson, and you don’t have a son any longer.” Her face falls when you step closer to look her up and down. “Pathetic. Only because your marriage was loveless you wanted to ruin what Dean and I had. What a pity we found each other again.”

“No—you won’t take him back. Not after he left you years ago.” Mary shakes her head, but you simply chuckle.

“We will rise from the ashes, stronger than before. Dean will be a good father for our son and a good husband,” you chuckle darkly. “And you can choke on the hatred and bitterness you consist of. You will never see your grandson because he doesn’t need a coldhearted bitch like you in his life.”

Mary can only watch you grab Dean’s hand to lead him back toward Baby. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you're about to cry because all the hurting hits you again. You won’t, though.

This time you walk away from Mary Winchester, your head held high…

Part 14

Tags in reblog.

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (30)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none (There will be no update next chapter. Read bottom note.)

A/N NOT BETA. YOU GUYS! Y'all my bad for missing Thursday's update! I live in the US so it was Thanksgiving for us and then the weekend was full of things. So I hope you can enjoy this update!

The day was coming to an end. You had done all your normal duties, tending to Jungkook and Namjoon as well as whatever else the other nurses would have you do. Now, you were waiting in Taehyung’s room with all the other boys. 

There was an anxious buzzing going around the room–both negative and positive. There was an anticipating feeling going through all of them. You were ready to get them far away from everything. Ready to get them to their families they had not seen in a decade. 

“You ready?” Namjoon asked you, placing a soothing hand on your arm. 

“This is it.” You looked up at him, a small smile on your face. “I'm not backing out now.”

You looked at each of the boys, taking note of their facial expressions. 

Yoongi looked calm but you could see the sparkle in his eyes over finally going outside. Jungkook was bouncing his leg in anticipation. Jin kept cracking his fingers, even after they stopped making noises. Hoseok was grinning widely, close to tears it seemed. Jimin was holding onto Taehyung’s hand, his thumb rubbing over the boy’s skin. Taehyung himself had tears welling up in his eyes, his nose red as he sniffled.

“You okay, Taehyung?” You asked softly, walking up to the boy. 

“I'm going to get to see the sun again.” His broken whisper made your eyes fill with tears. “I won't mess this up.” He looked behind you, nodding his head at Namjoon. 

“You got this.” Namjoon smiled at the boy, patting his shoulders. 

“I believe in you.” Jimin whispered to his friend, squeezing his hand for a moment before stepping back. 

Namjoon gave your head a kiss before getting into line with the rest of the boys. You moved to stand next to Taehyung, giving him a bright smile. With a nod from Namjoon, the boy raised his hands moving his fingers around just like Hobi does when dealing with magic. 

You quickly turned around when your head began to twist from watching Taehyung’s light purple mist. As you waited for him to tell you everything was done, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. You weren’t exactly a theater kid, but you had been telling yourself for days not to panic when telling your co-workers bye. Try your best to act natural–nothing to warrant attention. 

“I did it!” Taehyung exclaimed, turning you around. 

You furrowed your eyebrows when you could hardly make out the animals Taehyung had turned the boys into. You could only make out the small specs on the floor. Leaning closer, your eyes widened as you took in the small creatures. 

“Poison dart frogs?” You spoke up, looking back to Taehyung. 

“Don't worry.” The boy grinned. “They aren't poisonous.”

“I would hope so.” You laughed, holding your hand out to pick all 6 of them up. “They are so cute.” You took in each of their patterns. While their black spots were different, they were all the same shade of light purple.

“Purple?” You questioned Taehyung. 

“It's the color of my magic.” He told you. 

“Adorable.” You smiled, standing back up. “Well, sorry but into the pocket you go.”You spoke to the boys in your hands, moving them lightly into your scrub’s pocket. When you saw them all get comfy, you turned up to Taehyung. 

“Are you ready?” You asked. When you hear his sniffle, you quickly look up at him, seeing tears stream down his cheeks. 

“Don't cry!” You gasped out, moving to wipe his tears away. “I'll get you all out of this.” You whispered to him. 

“I know I'm just so happy.” He cried out, trying to give you a smile. 

“Let's get going then.” You pulled him down to give him a chaste kiss. 

When he gave you that boxy grin you loved so much, you took a step back, allowing him room to perform his magic. With closed eyes you waited for a few moments until you heard the smallest of croaks. Opening your eyes, you smiled at the small frog, leaning down to pick him up. 

With one last coo, you placed him into your pocket along with the others. Checking to make sure there was nothing missing you took a deep breath before gathering your stuff and making your way back up to your office. 

You tried to act as normal as possible, keeping your eyes on your things and trying to look tired. When you got to your desk, you noticed most of the other nurses had already left, two others picking up their things to leave as well. You glanced around for just a few seconds, quickly picking up your purse and pretending to place things inside. 

You had made sure to clean it out for the moment, knowing you couldn’t just keep the boys in your pockets the whole time. So you stuck your hand into your scrubs, counting all 7 frogs before sticking your hand into your purse to allow them more room. Getting the last of your things together, you swung your bag around your shoulder before moving to leave the building. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N)!” A nurse who worked in the main clinic called after you. 

“Goodnight!” You smiled back, waving as you left.

When you made it to your car, with one last look around you turned it on and began your journey back home. While on the road, the anxious feeling did not leave your body. You kept looking behind you making sure no one was following. Not that it really mattered, if they wanted the company could easily look up your address. But you wouldn’t be home for a while. 

The moment you made it to your apartment, glancing each way, you almost tripped going up the stairs from how fast you were going. Unlocking your door, you let out a breath leaning against the wall as you were finally able to calm down some. Carefully putting your bag down, you tipped it over so that the boys could carefully hop out on their own. 

Taehyung was the first to turn to normal, followed by the rest of the boys. Each of their eyes went wide as they took in something that was not part of the facility for the first time. 

“I'm so sorry for keeping you guys in there for so long!” You cried, hugging Jimin close. 

“I was almost squashed by a quarter.” Jin told you. 

The boys began to laugh about their trip, explaining how things were when they had been frogs. You almost began to cry at how excited they seemed, eyes glittering at each trinket you had in your home. They seemed skeptical about certain things but still looked immensely curious. 

It was almost comical to see all seven of them packed in your one bedroom apartment. But it wasn’t going to be for long, you all had to get a move on to avoid being detected. 

“Let me go get my things and then we can head out to my grandpas! Feel free to explore.” You beamed at them. 

Since they all seemed too busy taking in their surroundings, you took the liberty of going to your room to pick up your things. As they all looked through your things–respectfully–Jungkook was the first to move to the balcony doors. His eyes began to tear as he reached out to move the curtain to the side. As the natural light reflected into the living room, he sniffled as a smile overtook his face. 

“What is it, Kookie?” Hoseok asked, moving to check on the boy who began to cry. 

“It's the moon.” He had closed his eyes as he took in the moonlight. “I haven't seen it in years.”

All of the boys turned around, walking closer to watch the crescent moon shine brightly. “It's beautiful.” Jimin spoke softly. 

“My wolf is happy.” Jungkook told them, closing his eyes again. 

“We all are.” Namjoon placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “We're finally going home.” He looked at all of his coven brothers. 

“All set!” You spoke up, coming out of your bedroom with some bags. “I asked my neighbor if I could borrow their minivan.” You told them, watching as they all turned from the patio doors. “So let me go get their keys and we can go. You guys ready?”

You could see how they finally looked normal. Their tense shoulders were not there. The need to give everyone the side eye every time they were spoken to by the company staff. The sad looks they would have when being separated from one another. All of it was gone. 

Now they had hopeful looks. Tears ready to pour out of their eyes from the prospect of getting to see their families and friends from the world they were cruelly taken from. They were finally free. And you were the cause of it. 

“We're more than ready.”

Series Masterlist

Next Update will be on Thursday November 30 (United States time)

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee ,  @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoopp , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @girl-nahh-two , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @oemmi2005 , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumuu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @bts-4-life-ot7 , @woozixo, @serveruslovebot , @vintageoldfashion ,

[elegantwoes]

It’s funny how so many people take Jon Snow and his preference in women at face value because we see in his very first POV chapter him trying to convince himself it’s okay he doesn’t have to sit with his half siblings and the royal children because the knights he is seated with are supposedly more fun. The other Starks will only have one cup of wine while he can drink as much as he can. However he does care. Jon cares so much he almost cries (His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke).

In the same chapter Jon desperately wants to be a man of the night’s watch, but later on in ASOS we learn that his deepest and darkest dream is to become the Lord of Winterfell. These two dreams contradict each other. You can’t want them at the same time. The only explanation is Jon tried to convince himself that he wants to be a man of the night’s watch because becoming Lord of Winterfell isn’t possible for him. His desire to become Lord of Winterfell only came to the surface because the chance to become it was in arm’s reach.

So for Jon to make a big deal about a certain type of woman (willowy creature & blushing maiden) and how he supposedly doesn’t want them, should make you suspicious. Chances he does want this type of woman but he tries to convince himself otherwise because how could he, a bastard boy who won’t inherit anything, end up with one? So he convinces himself of the opposite. Grapes are sour anyway. That is the theme in his first POV chapter and continues to play a part in his arc.

Now comes the question when will Jon finally admit to himself he does want this type of woman? It would be in the same fashion as it was in the Lord of Winterfell situation. She should be in arm’s reach. Now which character can Jon meet that embodies the princess in the tower and the damsel in distress archetypes? None other than Sansa Stark.

[shittyassffblog]

Free Bird - Part 4

Hey it's been a few days but here is part 4! No smut in this I'm afraid but next chapter....o boy. Anyways, hope you all enjoy and tell me if you want on a taglist I'd be happy to make one <3 love y'all <3

Warnings: None

Part 3

A few days had passed since you saw Noah. He was busy with practicing for the next leg of the tour and you were busy at work so your paths just hadn’t crossed for a few days. You also tried to take a little bit of distance from Noah, you were scared of what you felt for him. You had always loved Noah, sure, but this was different. This was real, and it scared the shit out of you.

You were in your car on the way home when you heard a familiar melody on the radio.

I made another mistake

Thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break

Need to hear you say

You’re gonna keep it now

You thought about texting Noah, but before you could, right as you parked, your phone started ringing. You picked it up and Noah’s face filled up your whole screen. He was FaceTime-ing you. You hesitated to accept it, but decided to do it.

“Hi pretty.” Noah said smiling tiredly. He was lying in his bed, the sheets changed from when you were there. You smiled back.

“Hi handsome.” You said and he grinned at that.

“I have a question for you. And you can say no, but I need to ask you.” Noah said and your heart started racing. What could he want to ask you?

“Okay, what is it?” You asked him and he sat up properly.

“I wanna take you out.” He stated. You paused for a moment.

“As in a date or as in of life? Also that's a statement not a question. ” You asked and he laughed.

“Well now that you're annoying about it it's both” He said and you laughed too.

“What are you thinking?” You asked and he shushed you.

“Don’t you worry about anything, just be ready tomorrow at 6. Deal?” He demanded. You didn’t mind this side of his.

“Alright deal. Do I dress nice or casual?” You asked and he thought for a second.

“You can dress nice, be better than how you’re looking now.” He grinned mischievously.

“Rude! Alright you’ll see, Sebastian. You’ll see.” You pointed at him in warning. He laughed and scratched his head.

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. 6 pm sharp!” He pointed out and you saluted him.

“Yessir.” You yelled.

“Oh I like that, bring that energy tomorrow.” He winked and you blushed.

“Who says you’re getting any? Depends how good the date is.” You said and he smiled.

“I’ll have to do my very best then.” He said and you smiled at that.

“Alright im gonna go shower. Bye.” You said and he pulled his phone all the way up close to his face.

“Bye bitch.” He said in a funny voice and hung up. You laughed to yourself. Maybe you didn’t have that much to worry about when it came to your feelings for him after all?

---

The next day your entire wardrobe was on the floor of you room. You had absolutely NOTHING to wear and it was stressing you out so much. It was only 2 pm so decided to run out to your car and get yourself some new clothes. You wanted to look your absolute best for your date with Noah tonight.

When you arrived at the mall you, admittedly, went a little crazy. You maybe have bought a little too much than what you needed, but hey, then at least you had options.

You went into the bathroom and did your hair and make up, then went back to the living room to get your bags of new clothes and went back to the bedroom so you could plan out your outfit. Before long it was 5:30 pm and you were just about ready for your date. You decided to clean up the mess you had made in your room, and when all your clothes were back in the closet and your floor was finally visible again, you heard a knock on your door. You checked your watch, 5:59 pm, right on time.

You ran to open the door. When you did, Noah was stood, wearing a black button up shirt that was unbuttoned so you could see his a bit of his chest tattoo and in his hand he was holding the most beautiful flowers you had ever seen.

“Oh my god Noah, you didn’t have to do this.” You said as you grabbed the flowers and hugged him. He chuckled and hugged you back. He smelled amazing, and you had to stop yourself from clinging onto him.

“‘Course I did, I’m trying to woo you.” He said and you giggled. You locked eyes for a second before you turned around to put the flowers in water. As you were cutting the stems, Noah leaned on the back of your couch and crossed his arms. His sleeves were rolled up so his tattoos were on display. The way his shirt was hugging his figure was driving you insane.

When the flowers were in water you placed the vase on your dining table and turned towards Noah. He looked you up and down, then pushed himself off the couch and walked towards you. You got very nervous suddenly.

“You look beautiful.” Noah said and you looked down, blush creeping across your cheeks. He held your waist with one hand and lifted your chin with the other, making you look at him. He smiled slightly at you, your breathing mixing in the most intoxicating way.

“I mean it.” He said and you closed your eyes. You felt the slightest ghost of his lips on yours and your heart started beating faster. Before you could comprehend what was happening he pulled away, leaving you confused and yearning for his lips.

“We gotta get going sweets, lots of plans for us.” Noah said, and you blinked. He grabbed your jacket and opened it for you, ready to help you but it on. You smiled as you brushed off the dazed feeling and let him put on your jacket for you.

You walked out to Noah's car and he opened the door for you. You smiled as you got in, making sure everything was inside of the car and Noah closed the door. He jogged over to his own side and got in, then smiled over at you as he started the car. He put on some music he knew you loved and drove out onto the main road.

As you were looking out the window, you felt Noah's hand on your thigh. Not too high up, it was just there. You looked at it and then at him, and he was looking at the road with a small smile on his face. You matched his expression as you looked back out of the window.

After driving for a while, you pulled up into a restaurant. You had never been here before, but it looked Italian.

"Wait here." Noah said and you complied. He ran over to your side of the car and opened it for you, taking your hand to help you out of the car. As you got out, he tugged slightly on you hand, leaning in close to your ear.

"Good girl." He whispered, smirking at you when you blushed. He locked the car and wrapped a hand around your waist, leading you to the front door. He opened it for you and you walked to the hostess stand.

"Good evening, do you have a reservation?" The woman asked, and Noah nodded.

"Yeah under Noah Sebastian." He said and you smiled at him, then back at the woman.

"Of course Mr. Sebastian, right this way." She said, smiling and leading you to your table. It was off to the side of the restaurant, kind of hidden but now too close to the kitchen either, it was just perfect.

"There you go, a waitress will be right with you, here are your menus. Enjoy!" She said and both thanked her. You looked over the menu and everything looked amazing.

"God this all looks so good, what are you getting?" You asked and Noah hummed.

"'I really don't know, this is so hard." He said and you giggled a little.

"Oh real mature Y/N, your mind is so dirty!" Noah exclaimed and you laughed. The waitress came over soon after to take your order.

"I'm thinking the fettuccine and then maybe a Sex On The Beach. Can I have a water with lime on the side?" You asked and the waitress nodded.

"And you sir?" She asked, and Noah closed his menu.

"That sounds good, I'll have the same." He said, smiling at you, then looking at the waitress. She wrote it down and smiled at you both as she took your menus. She walked away and you and Noah looked at each other.

"So...what made you want to take me on this date?" You asked and he smiled.

"I didn't wanna go back to normal." He said simply, and you blushed. You held his hand and his thumb stroked the backside of your hand.

"Good. Me neither." You said and he smiled brightly. You were kind of lost in each other when the food arrived and you split apart to let the waiter put down the food in front of you.

As you ate you talked about what you had been up to the last few days.

"Yeah so Jolly and I had this huge fight cause I wanted to release it as a single, and he wanted it to be a deluxe only track, but we figured it out." Noah explained and you nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me? You always call men after you fight with Jolly." You asked. He squinted his eyes at you as if to contemplate if he should say the truth or not.

"I uhm...I didn't know if you wanted to talk to me." He said and you furrowed your brow. He kept explaining.

"Well you left kind of in a hurry while I took a shower the other day and I didn't know if I had like crossed a line or whatever, so I wanted to give you space. But after three days I couldn't handle it anymore so I just called you." Noah said looking down at his food and taking a sip of his drink.

"Oh well I just uhm. I didn't know if you wanted me there anymore. I think it was just my brain overthinking but after you said that stuff in the morning it just seemed a little like it was time to leave." You said, not meeting his eyes.

"Oh honey no, absolutely not! If it was up to me I would be in your company 24/7, I think we just misunderstood each other. I would never want you to leave are you kidding?" Noah said as he reached out for your hand. You smiled at him and giggled a little at the silliness of it all.

You both finished your food and Noah paid, leaving a big tip for the waiter and then led you out of the restaurant. Again he opened the car door for you and helped you inside before getting in himself.

"Where are we going now?" You asked and he chuckled.

"You really don't know what the word surprise means, do you?" He asked and you laughed.

"I'm just curious! I don't know how much you have planned!" You exclaimed as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"Don't worry your pretty head about that. Alright I'll give you a hint, we're gonna drive for about 10 minutes now. You just sit there and look pretty, maybe pick some better music." He said, nodding his head at the radio. You connected your phone to the bluetooth and but on a playlist of your favourite music.

You arrived at what looked like a mini golf place and your body filled with excitement.

"Are we playing mini golf?" You all but screamed and he laughed.

"Yeah princess, we're playing mini golf." He said as he helped you out of the car. You jumped in excitement and hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you and you looked at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" He said and you squeeked as you pulled him along to the entrance. Noah paid for your clubs and you wen along to the first hole.

You completely felt like you were in a movie, Noah treating you with the absolute utmost respect and giving you the Princess Treatment. The thing was, you were waiting for something to go wrong. Chase had really messed with your perception of peoples intentions and even when it was your very best friend in the entire world, it still felt like he was lying in some way. You played a few holes without saying anything and Noah noticed. You had reach an area where there was a bench that was little secluded so Noah pulled you over there. You sat down and he had an arm around you.

"What's going in in that pretty head of yours?" He asked and you sighed.

"It's nothing, I'm probably just being crazy." You said, picking at your nails.

"That's a little extreme don't you think? What are you thinking about? You're so quiet." He said, running his hand along your arm.

"Well...I think I just feel like you're overcompensating kind of." You said quietly and he didn't say anything. You squirmed in your seat, very uncomfortable. You had definitely just said the wrong thing and hurt his feelings and you were already trying to come up with a plan to get an Uber home.

"It makes me sad you would think that, because I've been trying to show you how you're supposed to be treated." Noah said, looking at you. You didn't dare look at him.

"I'm sorry." You said with a shaky breath and Noah pulled you close.

"Don't you dare apologise, this is not your fault. I know he beat you down emotionally and I know it doesn't take just a cute mini golf date to fix that, but I wanna try. I really care about you, I would like to see you in a more romantic way, and whatever you need if it's reassurance or something else I wanna give that to you. Are you okay with that?" He asked and you felt tears brimming your eyes.

He spoke with a softness you had never experienced before. You had always liked it when he talks but this was something else entirely, this made you calm down inside, made you believe everything he said.

"Yes I'm okay with that." You said, voice cracking. He hugged you closer. You looked up and him and he wiped away a tear that had spilled.

"You really wanna date me?" You asked and he nodded smiling widely.

"Yes, more than anything." He said and you hugged him. He chuckled at you eagerness.

"I take it you feel the same?" He asked with a laugh. You nodded vigorously and he pulled away a little and grabbed your chin.

"Kiss me then." He said and your eyes widened. You realised how close you were to his face, his fingers tugging you closer. His eyes focusing on your lips. You leaned in closer, the ghost of his lips making electricity run through you. He looked you in the eyes again and you licked your lips, suddenly feeling like the driest you've ever felt. He leaned in the rest of the way and you lips connected.

You had kissed before, obviously. But this was different. This had meaning. This was the step over the line you had been worried of crossing. This you couldn't take back. And god help you, you never wanted to either.

[anonnie-in-wonderland]

Home Calls the Heart

Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

chapter: five

Word Count: 8.9k+

rating: T (uh, once again none I can think of this time)

genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU

tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader

Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook

prev//next

Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for your patience. I really thought I’d have had time to put this out a lot sooner than this, but it was just too busy. But I hope this can be like a holiday gift maybe!

The rabbit stood stiffly off to the side as his family (and their guest) prepared the table. Like Namjoon, everyone had been both surprised and relieved to see him out of the room and willing to join them, greeting him with smiles and a few hugs.

 They backed off quickly though, probably scared they were going to overwhelm him if they made a big deal about it for too long. Jungkook supposed it made sense they would treat him as fragile, he was the youngest so it was already a given they babied him for years. Then when Gramps left them suddenly he did kind of check out.

Admittedly, when Jin-hyung mentioned a guest staying overnight, Jungkook hadn’t thought about it. The information slipped away almost as fast as it registered. He had more important things to wallow about think over. And, even if he had been paying attention, the pack maknae would have just come to the conclusion it was someone they already knew. 

The neighboring farms, spread out as they were, had known about Gramps. They sent condolences or a few dishes for the boys to eat while the lawyer helped break down his will and the hyungs made funeral arrangements. Why would any of them bring a new person around when they were all still mourning?

Clearly, a lot had happened since he’d shut himself off, because the human girl among them was brand new to him. She had to have been new to the others too, because they didn’t keep secret friends from each other. 

“Um, so, anywhere in particular I should set this?” the newcomer was asking Jin. She held up the plate of eggs she had been given. (Y/N). Namjoon-hyung said her name was (Y/N).

“Somewhere near the middle is fine,” Yoongi answered instead, walking by with a big, chilled pitcher of orange juice to place. “If any of these uncivilized heathens want some, they’re not shy about taking their share.” 

Even Yoongi-hyung was acknowledging her? Jungkook barely held back his look of surprise. Being that Yoongi was born a wild hybrid, and had spent a portion of his childhood that way, he was more wary of new humans than most. 

Gramps and a few of the old man’s associates that came around over the years and were trustworthy were about the only exceptions. Every other non-hybrid person that came into their space got the cold shoulder for the most part.

“Speaking of that, (Y/N) you fix your plate first.” Jin instructed, finally setting down the amazingly fluffy, mouth-watering stack of pancakes. “I made more than usual but I still doubt there’ll be any extras.” Jungkook’s nose twitched as the warm steam wafted into his nostrils, carrying the sweet and gooey fragrance of cinnamon rolls. 

His hyung was definitely a culinary genius. Fusing breakfast pancakes and dessert should have been a crime, it was so good. 

“It’s been so long since hyung made these,” Taehyung stated, tail wagging. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Do you ever?” Namjoon muttered, though there was a small smile on his full lips. 

Once everything was out and set up, everyone scrambled to take their seats. Jungkook went for his usual spot slowly, noticing that (Y/N) hung back, looking painfully out of place. She was still wearing Taehyung’s coat, though it was open, revealing Jimin’s pajamas. 

The minute he had seen that, Jungkook grew more curious than ever about who she was to the others. Yeah, sometimes if one of their friends came over and spent the night they might borrow a change of clothes, but not a female friend. 

“Wait,” Taehyung brought attention to the same thing he noticed, absently placing his hand on Namjoon’s wrist before it could bump his glass. “(Y/N) hasn’t sat down.”

That was when everyone turned their attention on the awkward female standing by, then glanced around the table. All the spots had been set but one, and Jungkook had taken up his usual one. 

There was only one seat left, and there was something about it that made offering it up wrong. Gramps. Gramps’ spot remained empty and untouched, chair tucked neatly in. Evidently, even their guest could sense that was not a seat for the taking, as she had opted to just stand around instead of sitting there. 

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she assured them. “I can eat at the counter…”

“You don’t want to sit with us?” Taehyung pouted, the puppy eyes in full effect.

“It’s not that!” She said quickly, “I just…”

“Just grab an extra chair and we’ll all scoot down.” Yoongi mumbled, “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m hungry and ready to eat.”

Blinking, the others nodded slowly, seemingly okay with that suggestion. 

(Y/N) made her way to an available stool just as Jimin got up to fetch it for her, ever thoughtful. Their hands landed on it at the same time, and they both paused, then shared a brief chuckle.

 “Let me,” Not taking no for an answer, Jimin picked it up easily and brought it to the table, placing it between his chair and Hoseok’s. (Y/N) thanked them and sat down, allowing breakfast to continue. 

While it was true he’d only been nibbling at his meals the last week, suddenly the low hunger pangs in his stomach were making him regret that. His fingers loosely gripped the silverware, waiting a little impatiently as a girl he had never seen before got to take her time preparing her own plate at Jin and Taehyung’s insistence.

Finally she was done, and just like that, everyone sprang at the food simultaneously, the loud clambering nearly drowning out Jin’s scolding about having some manners. Jungkook was so used to it, he didn’t even bat an eye, holding his own just fine against his hyungs as he secured a stack of pancakes, eggs, and a few links of sausage. Jin didn’t cook Western often, and he wanted to savor it. But his stomach had other plans, and when he stuffed the first few heavenly bites in his mouth, the bunny would admit he wasn’t sure he tasted it until after it went down. 

“So, what do you think?” Hoseok asked (Y/N) conversationally, keeping an eye on his plate in case anyone got greedy and snuck a few bites. They loved each other, but everyone in the household knew all was fair in food and war.

“Good,” she hummed, having another bite after swallowing the first. “Really good. Thank you for letting me share this meal with you. It beats the energy bar and coffee I usually wolf down in the morning.”

“It’s nothing,” Jin smiled, clearly pleased with her approval of his cooking. “It’s the least we can do since you put up with this one’s insolence,” he waved his hand at Taehyung, who tucked in closer to his plate and avoided Jin’s eyes, “And helped with Jilju this morning.”

Jungkook perked up at that. He hadn’t planned to say much unless someone addressed him directly, still equally curious and cautious of the girl among them, but he couldn’t ignore anything that had to do with his horse. Outside his hyungs and Gramps, she was the one he was closest to on the farm. “Jilju? What’s wrong with Jilju?”

“Oh, nothing now.” Namjoon popped some eggs into his mouth, grinning deeply in a way that brought out his dimples. “(Y/N) was able to take care of it. It was very impressive.”

(Y/N) sank down a little, trying to hide a small blush in her shoulder. “Just doing my job.”

“How’d that go, by the way?” Jimin urged, cutting up his pancakes into neat pieces the way he always did before eating. “What was wrong?”

He turned to (Y/N) curiously, and Jungkook watched her closely as well, head full of questions. 

“Well…where to start…” she paused, lowering her fork with sausage on the end. “She was a little anxious, for one. I think I got through to her. I reassured her that she’s doing the best she can by Jungkook, and that there’s no need to worry about losing her connection to him.”

“Why would she think that?” Jungkook frowned, then turned to his nearest hyung, Yoongi. “How would she know that Jilju thinks that?”

“Because,” Yoongi had opted for coffee instead of juice, and the strong smell of the brew singed the hairs inside Jungkook’s nose a bit. How his hyung chugged that stuff black he would never know, “Our new friend here has magic, and her gift is understanding the emotions of animals.”

“And hybrids,” Taehyung added proudly.

Jungkook only stared at the girl, who squirmed slightly, awkward smile in place. “Magic?” He repeated.

“Mhm,” Namjoon nodded, “You know, the rare individuals who are born with a special ability? I’ve read a book on it that—”

“I know what it means, hyung,” he said, then cringed inside when Namjoon’s ears drooped. His hyung was always so genuinely excited to share what he learned with them, and they all listened indulgently, even if they had heard him rambling about it a hundred times. He really hadn’t meant to sound like he didn’t care, he was just struggling to understand. 

How had his colony come across a human with magic? Did she come just to check the animals then? They had all acted like they understood that Gramps wasn’t coming back, so he wouldn’t be surprised that it had impacted their moods. “Sorry…” he mumbled at Namjoon. “I just don’t get it. Why would Jilju tell you what was worrying her if she didn’t tell me?”

“Sometimes it can be…hard…for animals to communicate some things to us, even when we share a strong bond. Sometimes they deliberately try to avoid worrying us,” she said patiently. 

Jungkook shoveled more food in his mouth and tried to avoid pouting. When his hyung’s food tasted so good, it was normally hard not to be happy but right now…he was a little annoyed. Some stranger turned up and it felt like she understood his friend better than he did. 

“That’s…not all.” (Y/N) shared, smiling as everyone looked at her curiously. “It turns out Jilju is also expecting.”

“What?” Jimin gasped, speaking in unison with Jungkook, who dropped his fork.

“Yeah…” Namjoon rubbed his neck. “It surprised me too. Remember when one of the horses from Mr. Lee’s farm escaped and we found him the next morning?”

“Jilju’s pregnant?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. His horse? Was going to be a mother?

“Apparently,” (Y/N) chimed in, “Surprise, and um, congrats!”

Jungkook said nothing, still processing that information.

“We’ll have to make sure she has enough rations,” Yoongi mused. “She’s eating for two now.”

“And we’ll keep the stable comfy-cozy for her,” Hoseok sang. 

“You’re an uncle, Jungkook!” Tae clapped, the faint thump of his wagging tail easy to pick up with his sensitive ears. “And we might not have found out so soon if I never met (Y/N) yesterday. I knew I picked a quality human.”

“Yesterday?” Jungkook was a rabbit, not a parrot, but it felt like all he could do was squawk out every word that blindsided him. “You met her…yesterday?”

Taehyung nodded. 

“Then why is she here?”

“Jungkook,” Jin huffed, “That was a little rude, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” (Y/N) disagreed, “it’s fair.”

“Why did you say ‘picked a quality human’?” He said, ignoring her. The longer she was here, the more Jungkook felt his discomfort grow. What was going on?

“Because—”

“Long story. Not Tae’s most well thought out decision, either.” Yoongi smoothly disrupted whatever the dog was about to reveal, and Jungkook glared a bit.

 “Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” The bunny insisted, aware he sounded the part of the petulant youngest brother, but also irritated with being kept in the dark. “Who are you?” he asked (Y/N).

“Tae’s heart was in the right place…” Jimin sighed, “He just didn’t think it through, like hyung said.”

“Taehyungie brought (Y/N) home, because he thought having someone new around could cheer us up.” Hoseok explained carefully, to which the younger canine hybrid nodded in agreement.

That explained…a little bit. They loved Taehyung and his spontaneity and eccentricity, but sometimes it caught everyone off guard. “Why her, specifically?” Jungkook pressed, “Because she’s got magic?”

“I didn’t even know that when we met, actually.” Taehyung admitted, hiding in his curls sheepishly. “She just…seemed nice. I got a good feeling.”

Their hyung had brought a random human back to them, when they were all still so upset at losing their main caregiver and father-figure, off of a ‘good feeling’? 

The rabbit could feel his foot tap irritably. “What?” His voice came out flat, unimpressed. “That’s stupid, hyung.”

“Yeah, it was,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, stabbing into his pancakes with extra force. “But we’ve been over that already. We talked, we fought, some of us cried…” His glittering emerald eyes slid to Taehyung. “It was a whole thing.”

“I haven’t been over it,” Jungkook protested, “I’m not over Gramps! I…I thought none of you were either!”

“We’re not,” Namjoon said calmly. “All our hearts are still broken.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel like that, hyung.” he hissed, full on glaring at (Y/N), making her flinch. “I don’t care how special a human she is. She’s not Gramps.” 

“Here we go again…” He heard Yoongi say.

Jungkook began to collect his food with the intention of retreating upstairs, because like hell he’d be able to enjoy it like this, and there was no way he was leaving it or throwing it out either.

 (Y/N) also lurching to her feet at the same time was the last thing he expected, and he instinctively stilled, cradling his plate protectively while making himself bigger. 

Thanks to Gramps indulging him years ago when he said he wanted to work out and get stronger, the youngest hybrid was well aware he wasn’t built like an ordinary bunny. 

They were genetically predispositioned to petite or average frames, and because of their prey genes, putting on muscle—except maybe in their legs—did not come as easily for them as it did for predators. 

But with dedication and hard work, Jungkook had made himself someone to be reckoned with, and now when they went out, predator hybrids gave pause as they tried to size him up.

 His scent was still recognizable to them as rabbit, if they got close enough, but he didn’t get intimidated after living and growing up with several of his natural predators.

 Plus his size helped him stand toe to toe with the snake, cat and fox hybrids out there who might try making him uncomfortable.

Needless to say, an average human like (Y/N) had no chance. He could tell her first instinct was to back down. But she swallowed it down in the next second, her eyes determined, “Wait, please don’t leave.”

Jungkook stopped, unable to help himself. What could she want to say? Nothing was going to change his mind about her not being a suitable replacement for Gramps. No one was.

“You weren’t at the meal yesterday, so you didn’t hear it but…I’m sorry.” One minute she was speaking, the next minute she was bowing deeply. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter about what the circumstances were that brought me here, it still ended up causing pain, and that’s my fault.”

“(Y/N),” Taehyung sounded like he wanted to object, but she straightened, shaking her head.

“It’s the truth.” She said firmly. “The choice to follow you here, even when I learned you wanted a new family member, that was on me. I should have used common sense and stopped you, especially knowing you didn’t live alone.” Nervous energy poured off of her as she played with her sleeve. “Also I…I lost someone too.” Judging by the silent reactions, this was information none of the others had heard before. “Not as recently as you did, but he was a very dear friend to me, and the eight months I’ve spent without him have been really hard.” (Y/N) bowed her head mournfully.

Jungkook looked at her, really looked at her. He would have never assumed she was also missing someone as deeply as he was missing Gramps, but then he’d only just met her, and how she felt wasn’t his priority so much as wanting her to go away.

Oblivious, or ignoring everyone’s staring, (Y/N) kept talking. “So I relate to that pain you’re all going through right now, and I’d never disrespect your bond to a member of your family by trying to force myself into that dynamic or think I could fill a hole that large in any of you. Everyone we ever love is special. Different.”

 Her voice cracked on the last word, so briefly only a hybrid could have heard it. “I’m glad I could help solve your problem with Jilju, and thank you for letting me stay the night and even have breakfast, but if my clothes are dried, I should go. Everyone here’s been great, but you deserve your home back.” Cleaning up her spot hastily, (Y/N) stood in the kitchen doorway and gave them one last bow, eyes full of sincerity, then scurried out of sight.

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

She came down the stairs, almost dreading running into anyone. Why did she have to keep making a mess of things with these hybrids? They’d probably be glad to be rid of her.

 Who wouldn’t want to free themselves of a pest. Gathering the meager things she had arrived with, neatly folding Jimin’s borrowed pajamas after changing back into her clothes, and stripping the sheets (knowing how sensitive hybrids were to smell, and figuring Jungkook wouldn’t want her scent in the middle of his room), (Y/N) was pretty much ready to go.

Creeping down the stairs, she found it was quiet, and glanced around unsurely. While she wanted to be out of their hair, leaving without saying goodbye would be…rude. But so would wandering around their house in search of someone.

Luckily, the sound of voices conversing in another room gave her an indicator about where everyone might be, and she mustered up her courage to go find them.

Peeking her head in, she found Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi talking amongst themselves at the kitchen bar, though they all looked up immediately. Damn. No way to go undetected when super hearing was in the mix, huh?

“All set?” Jin asked.

(Y/N) nodded. “I am. Thanks to you, and sorry again for the trou—”

“Apologies are played out, don’t you think?” Yoongi interrupted, appearing bored as his long tail swished lazily. “We’re not interested in hearing any more of them.”

“This hyung’s always so shy about showing new people how he feels.” Hoseok giggled, pinching Yoongi’s cheek affectionately. “But he’s just trying to say none of us think you have anything else to apologize for. It’s been talked over, and in the end it was just a misunderstanding, right?”

(Y/N) frowned, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “But, Jungkook—”

“He’ll be okay.” Namjoon reassured her, his ears flickering. “In time anyway. Right now he’s working out to blow off steam instead of holed up in Gramps’ room again. That’s big progress.”

“Plus he ate all his food.” Jin practically swooned. 

“Yeah, kid’s gonna be back to eating us out of house and home in no time.” Yoongi chuckled, the fondness in his voice clear.

“See, no permanent damage done.” Hoseok concluded.

“Well…that’s a relief.” (Y/N) grinned weakly. “Anyway, I really should get—”

“Hyungs!” Taehyung’s excited shout made her jump, but the four hybrids siting around the bar didn’t appear surprised at all.

“No one listens to my rules,” Jin groaned. “I say no running. I say no yelling in the house. I say put your clothes in the hamper and not on the floor. Am I talking for my health?”

“At this point…” Yoongi mused, though he didn’t finish when Taehyung burst in. 

“Oh, (Y/N)!” He greeted her, face lighting up as soon as their eyes met. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

The pup still kind of gave her whiplash, but somehow, (Y/N) thought she might have been getting used to it. “How come?”

“Cause the lake’s frozen,” he said gleefully, “And you know what that means?” He asked his hyungs. They glanced between each other, quiet. “We should play outside. Have a snow day. We haven’t done that all season, and—”

“Tae, you brat,” The airy voice of Jimin complained from behind them. (Y/N) turned to see him wearing a scowl and trudging through the front door the dog had left open. “Why’d you take off like that? And after I helped you get your tongue unstuck from…oh.” His eyes widened when he noticed the crowd in the kitchen and doorway. 

“What’d he get his tongue stuck to?” Hoseok pressed curiously.

Taehyung shrugged, “Jimin dared me to lick a sheet of metal.” He tattled nonchalantly.

“I didn’t think you’d do it!” The avian hybrid exclaimed, throwing up his arms, wings rustling. 

“You two can’t be left unsupervised for more than ten minutes.” Yoongi sighed. “You were supposed to be making sure all the animals had enough blankets and fresh hay.”

“We did,” Taehyung’s tail was slowly gaining speed and his ears had a slight lift, “Then I noticed what a good snow day it’d be. C’mon hyungs, please?” (Y/N) had not been around long, but she absolutely knew what was coming next, and turned to preemptively shield her eyes just as Taehyung made his bigger, rounder and more innocent pitiful. “You should join us too, (Y/N).”

Gah, oh no! He turned the force of his gaze on her, and gently clasped one of her hands for good measure, trying to tug the other one down. 

“Hmm…I guess all of us haven’t been outside much besides tending to the farm.” Hoseok murmured. “We use to roam the property and play outside all the time. Maybe it’d be okay to indulge the pup this one time,”

“One time’s enough for a fun time,” Taehyung cheered.

“‘One time’ is enough to make it a habit.” Yoongi corrected. “You think we met you yesterday, pup?”

“Still, what’s it hurting?” Jin added his two cents. “Winter weather feels great to me.”

“Hyung, that’s a given,” Namjoon pointed out, “But okay, I guess a little time outside wouldn’t be so bad.”

Taehyung clapped, “Meet you all out at the shed!” He put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “You can come wait for us near the ice.” The next thing she knew, she was being steered towards the door.

“Hey, hold on,” Jimin huffed, “Don’t just drag her around without letting her decide for herself. And she’ll need a coat, hat, gloves and boots if she’s coming out with us. She’s not resistant to the cold.” he ended, rolling his eyes at the dog’s impulsiveness. 

“I…thanks for the invite but I don’t wanna get in the way…”

“Please,” Taehyung not only used the eyes this time, but hit her with a very puppy-like whimper, and (Y/N) crumbled like a sandcastle kicked over.

“Okay…just a little while though.”

Taehyung gleefully brought her to the hall closet so she could borrow some winter layers again.

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

The glistening lake caught the weak sunlight of the winter sky, sparkling like a diamond that had just been given a polish. 

The farm really was an idyllic winter scene right now, (Y/N) marveled. The trees were bare and the snow was heaped up all around, but it was still manageable to get around the property.

She waited patiently by the lake, which was conveniently next to the shed Taehyung had mentioned. It could have been its own little house, and even boasted a small porch. The boys had ran right into it, promised they’d be back shortly, and closed the door. 

‘I didn’t see Jungkook join them though.’ (Y/N) couldn’t help but think about the last person she had blindsided, staring off into the distance, where she could make out the main house.

 Was he still exercising? Did he know they were going to play outside? He shouldn’t have to miss a time to have fun with his family just because she was being included. Doubts about staying started to creep up again, but before they could consume her too much, the shed’s door creaked open, and out waddled a very impressive, tall emperor penguin.

(Y/N) gasped, gazing at the proud bird in awe as it bobbed over to her, stopping a short distance away as if waiting for her to be done admiring him. “S-Seokjin-ssi?” It had to be him, right?

The flightless bird bowed his head in confirmation, turning completely around once so she could see all of him. His sleek body was beautiful, and perfectly designed for this element.

 (Y/N) had only seen penguins on TV and once from behind a glass at the zoo. Nothing did justice to Seokjin’s impressive form. And when he stepped onto the frozen lake and gracefully began skating around, (Y/N) was even more gobsmacked. “Wow…”

A bark disrupted her admiration of Seokjin’s moves on the ice, and she found a familiar golden dog bounding towards her. 

Taehyung got into a playful crouch as he approached, tail fanning high behind him. (Y/N) giggled, bending to meet him. “So this is what you had in mind?”

He yipped, spinning in circles and then taking advantage of her proximity to lean up and lick her cheek before lunging away.

(Y/N) put a gloved hand over the spot, jaw dropping as she watched Taehyung run and roll around in the snow. More of the hybrids emerged from the shed, two more canines following him.

 There was a slender but well-muscled coyote that trotted out calmly and sat on his haunches to watch Seokjin skating and Taehyung playing. Followed by a large, bi-colored canine of intimidating stature with intelligent eyes. Namjoon for sure.

 His thick, black coat was streaked through with silver, something (Y/N) doubted was from age. It looked like a natural pattern, and a cool one at that. His thick tail waved once, and then he stopped next to Hoseok and observed too. “All your animal forms are so beautiful.”

Hoseok’s ears went back and his eyes got round, a smile on his muzzle. He was the normal golden brown of a coyote, but with a russet undertone more prominent now that he had shifted than it was before. He tilted his head back at the shed and barked, sounding like he was beckoning someone.

A short, feline snout popped out, and then slowly a whole head. (Y/N) watched the big cat watch them, until he decided to place one paw outside the structure, and then another.

 Soon a mountain lion was stalking silently from the shed with all the languid grace of an apex predator. (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat as his gorgeous green eyes found her, then turned to his fellow hybrids as if to say, ‘I’m out here, now what?’

Taehyung quickly took care of that, seizing on his opportunity once he saw his hyungs and running straight for them. Yoongi grumbled, lifting a paw as if to stop him. It didn’t even make the dog break stride, and he tumbled into the other hybrids, licking them all mercilessly in the face and yipping cutely as if to thank them.

 (Y/N) had to hide a giggle when Yoongi swatted at him with his tail and Taehyung caught it in his mouth, tugging on it and trying to pull him in closer by it.

Although that seemed to annoy the mountain lion, his tugs to reclaim his appendage were half-hearted at best. Hoseok joined in, though he seemed to be on no one’s side but his own.

 One minute he was pulling Yoongi’s ear and gently getting cuffed for it, the next he was nosing at Taehyung’s sides like he was trying to tickle him, and it got the dog to let go and show his belly, evidently still ticklish no matter what form.

(Y/N) almost didn’t notice the last presence, one hovering close to her face, until the cutest little chirp drew her attention. 

A deep blue bird was flying right next to her, and when she studied him, he chirped again. “Ohh, Jimin-ssi, your plumage is so shiny.” The bird landed on her shoulder, puffing out his chest in pride as she grinned. So little, so cute.

Seokjin, noticing the rough-housing happening on the snowbank, glided over to join everyone. 

Soon five hybrids were chasing each other around, occasionally someone getting tackled and going down with a face full of snow to show for it. (Y/N) stood and watched, not sure if she should be joining or keeping out of the way. 

Jimin had flit from her shoulder and was egging the others on, tugging at their fur and then darting away when they looked over their shoulder. He’d peck someone and then zip up into the air before they could even think about getting him.

 But given that he was so small and delicate in this form, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine them playing with him the way they were playing with each other.

Taehyung slid into her legs as he failed to skid to a stop in time, and she watched him roll onto his paws and shake off. He barked, tugging at her pants and whining when she only blinked. “Are you asking…”

He barked again more urgently, tilting his head at the others, who were all peeking over at them. “How would I join in?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Seokjin kicked snow with a foot, honking. 

Squinting, (Y/N) watched him clumsily mold snow into a lumpy ball and then point at it with a wing. “You can’t really be asking me to have a snowball fight with you.”

Taehyung swooped down on Jin’s snowball and lobbed it as best he could, hitting Namjoon in the ear when Hoseok ducked. Namjoon growled, snatching up a mouthful of snow without bothering to mold it and trying to return fire. 

Jin squawked as Taehyung hid behind him, refusing to abandon his living shield no matter which direction the penguin turned in. 

Raising a brow, (Y/N) quickly made a snowball and threw it at the dog. He yelped as it hit his flank, his large blue eyes full of betrayal. Though it almost made her feel bad, (Y/N) grinned at him. “Sorry, sorry, but it was only fair, right?”

Namjoon took the opportunity to pile on, flinging another snowball he had made while they were distracting that Taehyung took under the chin.

 The light tweeting Jimin did sounded suspiciously like laughter as the dog barked dramatically, picking up snow in his mouth and chasing his hyung with it. 

The fast wolfdog ducked behind Yoongi, who nearly got bowled over by Taehyung. The big cat took that as his sign to join in, pinning the dog down and making him swallow the snow he was holding.

 There was nothing but vindication in those sharp emerald eyes, and (Y/N) watched in interest as Hoseok brought a snowball he had made to her and then ruffed quietly. “Are you saying we should team up?” she whispered.

 Jimin flew down and landed on the coyote’s head. “And you want to be on the team too?” He confirmed with a chirp. “Think we can really take them all on?” The two hybrids nodded in determination. “Alright, then let’s get some distance first. Come up with a plan of attack.”

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

Heart pounding after his workout, Jungkook removed his boxing gloves, swiping his bangs from his eyes and grabbing for his water bottle. He had forgotten how good the burn of his muscles after an extended session in the gym felt.

The rabbit hybrid sighed, not hearing any sounds in his vicinity, and guessing everyone must be downstairs. He shuffled into the hall’s bathroom and began to strip out of his sweaty workout gear. 

Better to get clean now before Jin-hyung caught a whiff of him later and complained. Besides, sometimes a warm shower helped loosen up the sore muscles and made the whole post-workout come down feel even better.

Adjusting the water to the right temperature and waiting patiently, Jungkook glanced in the mirror. He looked at the circles beneath his eyes, and touched a piece of hair that had fallen into his face. 

It’d been a while since his last official haircut. Gramps used to give them himself, but once they got older and started to complain about wanting to look more fashionable, he began taking them into town for a professional to do it. Lately, Jungkook had been thinking of growing it out though. 

Maybe his bangs could use a touch up, but the ends of his hair feathered past his ears, just the way he wanted it. His floppy, velveteen ears could use some attention and grooming as well. 

They had always been soft and silky to the touch, according to his family. But Jungkook could tell the difference. Dragging himself to shower every other day or so for the last week meant the texture had fallen below his usual standards. To him they felt oily. Nothing a quick shower couldn’t remedy now, though.

He lathered his hair in the lightly scented shampoo already there, letting the water run over his muscles and trying to piece together what had happened downstairs. 

So, while he was alone in Gramps room, Taehyung had met (Y/N). A human girl from the park nearby. She was…pretty normal, except the having magic part. If it were any other time, he might be kind of intrigued, but he was still put out by how she had come to be in their house.

When she left, he would talk more about it with his hyungs, and they would reassure him that no one would be allowed to come in and join their family so suddenly. Especially not some silly girl from the park. Everything would be alright…

Eventually, his shower concluded, and he made the short trip down the hall to his bedroom. It had been a while, Jin or someone else normally bringing a change of clothes for him to Gramps’ room. 

So he was unprepared by the unfamiliar scent that buffeted his nose as soon as he walked in. He took a sniff and his nose instantly crinkled. What…was that? Who was in his room?! The last sheets were off the bed, bagged up and ready for the laundry. A clean set had been put on tidily in their place.

But Jungkook could practically taste it in the air. That new scent. (Y/N).

They really let her use his room? All his hyungs knew how sensitive he was to scents. 

Technically, all hybrids were scent-sensitive, but having spent his early life the way he had, it was particularly amplified in Jungkook’s case.

Sliding on some clean clothes quickly, the bunny hurried to his bedroom window and wrenched it open. The crisp winter air flowed in immediately, sending a chill down his neck. Relieved, Jungkook stuck his head outside and breathed in the clean mid-morning air with his eyes closed.

Nature smelt so good. The world was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, on the fencing separating the path from the fields and the roof of the barn and even on the shed way out by the lake. It was probably frozen. Jungkook squinted out in that direction, seeing several figures darting around, seemingly having a great time. 

A fond memory surfaced, Gramps taking his hand and leading him out onto the ice, teaching him how to skate when he was very small. Then Taehyung came sliding into them, and everyone went spinning across the ice like newborn foals.

Come to think of it…someone had poked their head in the gym and told him they were going out to play in the snow for a little while, and that he was welcome to come along. But Jungkook had been so focused on his workout, it really hadn’t registered. 

Hesitating there at the window, he watched the four-legged creatures bounding around each other, able to make out most of his hyungs. Jimin was impossible to spot from here if he was shifted, though. 

Joining in did seem tempting. He was still hurting, of course. That was unlikely to change soon. But Gramps wouldn’t want him holed up inside all day. Maybe it was fine to get out, get some fresh air and enjoy the company of the others…

All those thoughts came to a crashing halt when he made out an extra figure, up on two legs and running amongst the animals in the snow. Wait, was that…?

(Y/N) again. Didn’t she go home already? For a second, Jungkook contemplated not even going out there. Avoiding her until she left seemed like the best bet.

 Then, he thought about the fact that he was letting some new person who wasn’t even staying keep him from spending time when his hyungs, and he had missed them. 

Defiantly, he went digging in his closet for a warm hoodie and his snow boots.

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

Laughing, (Y/N) went down hard, falling to her knees and placing her arms over her head. It didn’t stop the onslaught. She was repeatedly pelted from behind by sizable snowballs, the hybrids having gotten quite good at making them without hands. 

Hoseok brushed by her, barking, darting around Namjoon and distracting him with seemingly innocuous play. At some point the strategy had kind of fallen apart, and they were improvising. 

Though that meant it was hard to tell who was winning. She, Hoseok and Jimin had taken the others by surprise, but not for long. 

Who knew they would have such a vicious competitive streak? Except maybe Yoongi. Kind of just seemed like he was only riled up because he kept getting pelted every time he tried to shuffle off to the side and watch.

“Tactical…” (Y/N) said through her giggles, “retreat!” She went crawling away, dragging herself to the shed with the hopes of getting a moment’s reprieve. 

Her cheeks had to be as red as a cherry by now, and her throat burned a little from rapidly inhaling the cold air. Even her fingertips felt a little numb, despite the borrowed gloves. Still, it was the most active she had been in a while, and the game was a lot of fun.

 Lurching up on her hands and knees, (Y/N) dove behind the shed, taking cover (and the opportunity to catch her breath) with a grin. She wiped some slush from her eye, peeking behind her to see Hoseok trying to dodge the opposing team and join her, with Jimin’s little body no where in sight amidst the larger hybrids and snow flying everywhere.

 Hopefully he was safe and up high. (Y/N) sighed, wondering if she should be planning a rescue, barely containing a startled squeal when she nearly came nose to nose with a very…large…rabbit.

Its black nose twitched, and the big golden brown eyes watched her steadily. The animal was what (Y/N) would most certainly class as ‘a unit’—a wall of muscular fluff. She’d never seen a lop-eared bunny so big and defined. “Um, hello…” she whispered, “Did you come to see what was going on?”

The rabbit eyed her down, unmoving and somehow, unamused. A loud growling-bark sounded from just behind her as Namjoon tumbled from a well-timed push, and (Y/N) moved to protect the smaller animal on instinct. Big bun or small bun, she still didn’t want him squished. 

What she hadn’t counted on was the rabbit reacting like it did the minute her hand moved to bring him in close to her chest.

 (Y/N) hissed, immediately retracting her hand, eyes widening as her fingers throbbed where his teeth had sank into them through the glove. She didn’t think he’d broken skin, but his powerful little jaw had moved quick as lightning with a warning bite. 

He turned his back to her, his long back legs kicking snow in her direction, and the action felt almost scornful. Then he hopped away, out into sight of the others, who stopped and made excited cries as if to welcome him to their game.

‘Duh, of course that’s Jungkook.’ (Y/N) winced, easing her glove off to inspect her hand. ‘I probably overstepped just now. I wouldn’t want a stranger touching me without warning either.’

There was a light tap on her shoulder, and (Y/N) twisted her body to see Jin towering over her. He honked, tilting his head and appearing puzzled. “Are you asking me if I’m okay?”

His sleek head bobbed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “I guess I’m tired. That was a long, intense game, right?

Taehyung trotted over, dipping his head as he studied her and then whining loudly. “Let’s say your team won, huh? That was fun. Thank you. I think I really should get going though. Gotta check on my car and all.”

Shaking himself off, the dog ran into the shed with a loud crash. “Wait,” she heard him shout from inside, voice echoing through the cracked door. “I’ll get dressed and walk with you.”

More hybrids walked into the shed, (Y/N) heard a chorus of voices and some light squabbling. “Don’t you think you’ve clung to her enough already? One of us could also walk her back.”

“But!”

“I think one of us tagging along is a good idea. Taehyung would just stall on purpose.”

(Y/N) inwardly smiled. However short her time had been with them, they had made her life more lively than it had been in a while.

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

The crunch of the snow beneath her feet felt extra noisy. In comparison, her two escorts were silent as they all reached the parking lot. (Y/N) found there wasn’t anyone around, and no other cars left unclaimed, so it was easy to spot her vehicle, half buried under a mound of accumulated snow, but intact.

Huffing, she marched over, careful not to trip, digging out her key and unlocking the driver’s side door. “Well. This is my ride.” She told the two hybrids, smiling gently. “Thank you for seeing me back safely, and for hosting me too. I wish there was some way to repay your generosity.”

“It was the least we could do.” The older hybrid gave a single rough pat to Taehyung’s head, “Don’t mention it.”

The dog stepped forward, bangs falling slightly into his wide blue eyes, “So this is goodbye?”

“Uh, well…for now?” (Y/N) stammered, unsure why she felt so overwhelmingly guilty. “But you know, maybe not forever.” She extended a hand toward him, “You’re a nice guy, Taehyung, and you’ve got a good family. No matter how it happened…I’m glad we met.”

After staring at her hand, he slowly grasped it, giving it a firm squeeze. It wasn’t quite a handshake, but a parting offer of comfort. Sadness flowed through the touch, but not like she had felt before. It was touched with…hope. “Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t approach just anybody eating a hamburger on a bench anymore.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips briefly, “You take care too, (Y/N).”

Leaving Seokjin and Taehyung in her rear view mirror felt a lot like abandoning an opportunity to finally have some new friends.

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

“Hold him steady!” One of the zoo staffers yelled. Several grown men groaned and grunted as they wrestled with the belligerent kangaroo (Y/N) was supposed to be seeing. 

The feisty animal twisted, eyes screaming murder as he managed to smack one of the people restraining him with the thick tail attached to his backside. Before (Y/N) could get any closer he had broken free with one mighty kick, leaving the poor zoo keeper dazed and sprawled on the ground, clutching at his ribs.

She winced, hoping he would be alright. “Tae-hui,” she called. “Please stop. I know we’ve never met, but I’m here to help.”

 The kangaroo was clearly still rearing to go given his body language and the way he was bouncing around, so (Y/N) dared not press her luck until she saw if she got through to him.

Why couldn’t all animals in need be as easy to work with as Jilju? The horse had just needed some patience and understanding words, and she was compliant by the end. Thinking of her last encounter using her gift outside of work brought back memories of the farm. 

And the boys. 

How were they doing now? Was the grief of losing someone so dear to them any better, or just ramping up? It had been about a week, and she still regretted not at least suggesting they keep in touch.

 Then again, what if they didn’t want to? How could she explain she was lonely and desperate for companionship? They might think she was a pushy creep.

“Yah!” Someone yelled. 

Tae-hui was coming her way, someone comically trying to hold him still again with the kangaroo paying no real mind. (Y/N) braced herself, ready to get out of the way if needed. Just another day in the life for her…

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

Lips twisted lightly, (Y/N) used her thumb to scroll down the page pulled up on her phone, trying to check what ingredients the recipe called for while steering the shopping cart. The last thing she wanted was to run over anyone’s toes in her quest to try cooking pad see ew. It was worth expanding the palette every now and then. Or maybe even she was tired of her own cooking and needed something new.

Either way, (Y/N) was determined to give it a go. If only she could find what she needed. “Did they change the store’s layout around?” she mumbled to herself. “The noodles should have been on that aisle I just passed…” Continuing on, she did manage to find and grab some of the sauces the recipe called for. A few evening shoppers also milled about, (Y/N) passing an older woman deliberating over two brands of soup, an impatient youngster standing near by. “Halmoni,” the boy sighed, “My feet hurt. Can we please have dinner?”

“Ssh,” she hushed absently, waving a hand without looking at her grandchild.

Quietly walking by them, (Y/N) reached the end of the aisle, veering her cart sharply to avoid a store clerk who was mopping up a spilled mess from a broken jar.

She heard the gasp in time to avoid running into the woman who was coming out of the aisle she was entering, a shopping basket dangling on her arm. “Oh, sorry.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Are you alright?”

The woman said nothing, making unnerving eye contact and then slowly squinting, “Wait…(Y/N)? (L/N) (Y/N)?” Heart skipping a beat at the recognition, she tilted her head, trying to recall where the woman could possibly know her from.

“…Yes?”

“It’s me,” the lady gasped, moving a bit closer with a smile. “Gosh, how long has it been?”

“I…I don’t…”

“Do you really not recognize me?” She whispered. “It’s Choi Taeyeon.”

“C-Choi Taeyeon?” The name immediately elicited very vivid memories, some more pleasant than others. “I…” (Y/N) took a deep breath, pasting on a grin that was hopefully more excited than awkward looking. “It’s been so long. How are you?” Choi Taeyeon had once been her best friend. A proper greeting was the least she could do, right?

Finally having been acknowledged properly, she beamed, a pretty, gleaming white smile ringed in a blush shade of lipstick. Taeyeon’s stylish bob fell neatly around her shoulders, and her pink cashmere trench coat was cute and fashionable. She looked great.

 In comparison, (Y/N) stood in her normal work attire: khaki pants and a polo-shirt, bundled up with a sweater and coat for layering. There was no dressing glamorous when working with animals. Who knew if she would be slobbered on, clawed at, peed around, or otherwise get dirty.

‘I probably look like a drowned rat!’ (Y/N) suppressed the urge to reach up and smooth down her hair.

“Busy as ever.” Taeyeon sighed, “I’m afraid it’s starting to show on my face.” Of course, it was just fake humility. They both knew she looked excellent. “I followed my dreams and moved to Busan to work a nice job at a news station for the last two years. Now I’m back in Seoul and I’ll be covering national events.” 

“That’s awesome,” (Y/N) remembered when they would talk of their dreams together. Taeyeon had at first wanted to be a weather girl, but by graduation her sights were set much higher. “I’m not surprised.”

“What about you? What are you doing these days?” (Y/N) cringed inside, hoping they could politely go their separate ways after exchanging pleasantries. They hadn’t exactly parted ways on the best of terms… Once a painfully shy girl with a stutter, Taeyeon had hit it off for (Y/N), the class black sheep, in elementary school.

 After all, they were both excluded in activities by their peers, or picked last, or avoided. Sensing a kindred spirit, (Y/N) eventually befriended Taeyeon, and they had stuck together from then on.

When her power surfaced for the first time, outside her father, Taeyeon was the first person she told. Months later anyway. Although they shared everything with no secrets between them, magic was not as usual anymore, and people who had it could face a variety of reactions from others. The last thing she wanted was for her closest friend to see her differently.

The guilt of hiding something from her unsuspecting best friend left a throbbing pain inside. When she finally felt ready to share the truth, Taeyeon had listened with fascination. Relieved that she no longer had to hide, (Y/N) never imagined the way it would all change when they reached high school…

“I’ve been…around. I work with animals.” She explained vaguely. 

“Oh, that sounds like you,” Taeyeon giggled with a nod. “Same old (Y/N), huh?”

(Y/N) smiled weakly. “Yeah…same old me.” When could she be on her way? The longer she looked at Taeyeon the more she wanted to cry, all the memories rushing back. And that was not acceptable.

“Well. It was nice to see you,” Finally, that sounded like the end of a conversation if she ever heard one! “Maybe we could have a coffee date, catch up someti—”

Taeyeon stopped talking, mouth parting a little. (Y/N) quirked a brow, confused by her sudden awe. A large hand landing on her shoulder nearly made her jump, and she squealed, chopping at the stranger behind her, only to come face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes she had seen in her mind all week.

“T-Ta-Taehyung?” She breathed.

“(Y/N)!” The dog hybrid said, voice full of happiness. “I knew it was you. I told you it was, hyung.”

Jin and Hoseok were there too, both of them staring at her with surprise and then smiling. “How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Seokjin greeted, “Long time no see,”

“Y-Yeah,” (Y/N) was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, almost forgetting all about Taeyeon still gawking behind her. “That’s crazy, running into you guys here.”

“We don’t normally shop here.” Hoseok admitted, “But the pup insisted,” he motioned to Taehyung.

“I told them this was a grocery store a lot of people go to on this side of the barrier, and maybe you shopped here too, so every time we need anything I ask to come here.”

(Y/N) gaped. “Y-You had no idea if I’d even be here tonight.”

“I had a feeling I’d get lucky,” he countered, pride twinkling in his eyes. 

“U-Um,” Taeyeon shuffled into view, tugging at her coat. “You know them?”

She was looking at them like she was in the presence of celebrities, and it struck her then that they were all very good-looking. “Hi, I’m Choi Taeyeon.” Her former friend bowed. 

Taehyung eyed her curiously, then turned to (Y/N), who shrugged uneasily. “I’m Taehyung.” He said. “Those are my hyungs,”

“Jin.” Seokjin nodded politely.

“Hoseok.” Hoseok put in.

Neither of them were acting as taken with Taeyeon as she was expecting. Since her transformation in high school, Taeyeon always had her pick of the boys wanting to date her.

“Well,” she fluffed her hair. “I’m an old friend of (Y/N)’s and I’m back in town for the first time in a few years. I was just suggesting we go for a coffee date, but maybe you’d like to join us?” She asked, her voice lowering into a subtle purr.

(Y/N) wanted to hide her face. All this and all she wanted was to get her ingredients and make dinner. Although she was over the moon that she happened to see the boys again.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin apologized. “It’s not the best time for us to have social engagements. We recently had a death in the family and are still in mourning.”

“O-Oh!” Taeyeon gasped, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t…my condolences!” She slid a hand into her purse and took something out which she passed to (Y/N). A business card. “Let’s arrange something later (Y/N). I won’t hold you any longer.” She bowed, then waved with a cute smile at the boys. “Maybe some other time when things are better for you.”

(Y/N) blinked, hiding her surprise. When Taeyeon had finally walked away, it felt like all the tension went with her, and her shoulders slumped as she leaned into her shopping cart. “That was…exhausting,” she whispered, forgetting she was in the presence of beings with superior hearing.

“Yeah, we could hear your heart thumping a mile away.” Hoseok said sympathetically. “Are you alright.”

“Yes,” she said truthfully. “Now I am. Thank you.”

“Was she giving you a hard time?” Taehyung questioned. 

“Not exactly…” (Y/N) thought of how to put it. “It’s just…we were old friends a long time ago and we parted ways not on the best of terms. I wasn’t expecting to see her here.”

“Friendships that end awkwardly can be tough,” Seokjin hummed. “Though it really is a pleasant surprise to run into you again. This one was sulking for days because he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t have your phone number.”

Taehyung reached into his hoodie, eyes bright and hopeful. “This time, can we exchange numbers?”

“Wait, really?” (Y/N) couldn’t believe it. He felt the same way she did. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I told you that I like you, (Y/N).” The dog said patiently. “And Jiminie said you promised to be his friend, so why can’t you be mine too?” The accusing whine went straight to her heart, and before she knew it, she was handing him her phone. 

Author’s Note:  I promise Jungkook is a sweetheart. lol It’s just that he’s finally at the place in the mourning process where he comes up for air, and then there’s a big change shoved at him right away, so he’s a little overwhelmed and uncomfortable. And taking it out on (Y/N). Things do get better between her and our bunny boy (in time). Also a gentle reminder that if you change your handle, please let me know or me tagging you may not work! I tried my best, but some people’s blogs or gone or they just cannot be tagged now for some reason.

**TAGLIST IS CLOSED**:

@sunoosult @hesmyphenominiall @taradevonne @childfmoonn @stcrwhiz @ghostkat23 @colourlyhobbit @juju-227592 @iconicjk @cestlabellemort @squishyturtle @singukieee @jcrml @neyneythepainaway @emu007 @mojojojothegreat @daydreambrliever @dinorahrodriguez @cosmos-d-clouds @blackrockshooter780 @hydroyaksha @tinyoonsblog @toughbook @4evahevah @7dilemma7 @yoursoontobestepmom @jiminie-08 @black-rose-29 @malewife-supremacy @do-as-you-dont @yoonseok-jjang @mageprincess7 @pipminnie @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @kodzuskook @doublebunv @nonbinaryidiot @silscintilla @amarokofficial @bangtanxberm @kimsaerom @aurorasymphonies @kawaiikpoplover268 @anacbm

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 2 - Smile for me, Red.

Summary: Kirishima comes to collect his usual coffee with a worn down, fake smile on his face. Y/N’s having none of it.

I know I said the next chapter will come in two weeks, but you guys sent me so much love I can’t help but post another one. The next one will be late, though!

Warnings: Swear words

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Did you just come in through window?” You deadpan as your himbo of an uncle sneaks in through the manager’s office window, ten minutes late.

“Didn’t want people to see me.” The old man sighs as the plops down on the nearest chair.

“You shouldn’t have put your signature on the wall then.” You raise your brows and your manager nods approvingly. “Also, Red Riot works next door. He won’t be much of a help to the society if he dies in a heart failure after seeing you sneaking around their private parking spot.”

“How did the boy like the present, Y/N?” Crimson Riot winks, his hair just as obnoxious and spiky as always; okay you have no right to say anything about his hair as your own is the same color, but still, those spikes might have worked when he was 30, but they aren’t working now. “I can’t believe my little girl finally met her crush. Do you remember, when…” Your uncle is about to start reminiscing but you ain’t having any of that.

“This is a work meeting, Uncle. I know you hate talking about numbers but you are the fucking owner so shut up and listen to my manager.” You sigh, already knowing he’ll try to change the topic again as soon as the meeting actually starts.

Okay, so here’s the deal: your uncle is like a second dad to you. Why? Because your mom and dad are both businessmen and they travel around a lot which made your retired uncle your almost full time babysitter after you grew up enough to be able to move around and exist without choking on air. Your parents love you, you know that but they live for their jobs.

Watching the school festival in the TV was one of your favorite things to do with your uncle; he adores seeing the young heroes challenging each other without the putrid smell of death lurking around the corner; being a hero can be quite fun when you are still in school but the real deal is nothing like the silly little work studies; it’s gruesome and cruel, full of blood and loss, but watching these young students fight so seriously for nothing but a gold medal kinda makes you forget about all of the dark side for a second and just enjoy the show.

You were around fourteen or fifteen when the young, sturdy hero wannabe appeared on the screen for the first time; his passion and positive attitude caught both of your eyes right away and it didn’t take long before the word went around about the boy being a massive Crimson Riot fan so needless to say, you two spent most of your time searching the internet for more information about the young boy and eventually, this became a family tradition every time you had to spend the night at your uncle’s house. First, it was only tiny articles you could find, but eventually as he got older there were full interviews available for you to watch with your uncle after a shitty day at work. You don’t come by his house that often anymore, but when you do, Red Riot always comes up. The story your uncle was about to tell is probably about you having an absolute crush on the boy when you first saw him on the screen; you remember getting really flustered by his adorable smile, shark teeth and all. Crimson Riot always liked to joke about how funny it would be to have Red Riot join your little family and you always yelled and laughed at your silly uncle for being ridiculous, but seeing him in really life really made you question if your uncle secretly wanted you two to meet and make your dreams a reality, hence why the cafe ended up to be so close to their agency.

Also, it’s not like you actually had a crush on him; maybe when you were 15 you really did crush on the boy but now you are 25 and definitely way past the celebrity crush phase; you two kept up your tradition and watched his interviews every week, but it was more of a habit than anything else.

The meeting doesn’t take long; your manager mumbles out a bunch of numbers then after one look at your uncle’s confused face she realizes that “the big boss” did not check his e-mails this week so she tells him that the business is going well and that’s enough for him to leave your manager alone for another week or so. He doesn’t really care about the money anyway; having a cafe was on his bucket list so he made it happen and he really doesn’t give a fuck about the rest until he’s not actually loosing money on it. This whole meeting isn’t really necessary to be honest but it’s a way for him to feel included; he doesn’t want anyone to know his connection to the cafe so he can’t really lurk around during opening hours. It’s quite silly as the name of the coffee shop literally has his name in it, but to be fair, he’s been retired for a decade, no one really gives enough fucks to put one and two together. Except Red Riot, but he’s too busy being an excited golden retriever to question how did you manage to get him a signature so soon.

“Okay, it’s almost opening time, let’s get shit done.” You sigh, not ready for another 12 hour shift.

Why do you work so much? The answer is really easy; you have nothing else to do. Yes, quite sad. Now let’s move on.

“Language!” Your manager reprimands but you only roll your eyes at that; you’ll never understand why are people so obsessed with swear words. They are just words. They are completely harmless.

Red Riot appears a few minutes after the doors open; he doesn’t jump around this time, doesn’t even look at his favorite poster, just comes straight to the counter with the fakest smile on his tired, but handsome face.

Oh no.

First of all, Red Riot being sad? That’s unacceptable. That guy is a ray of sunshine all the time, you swear you can see a trail of rainbow coming out of his gorgeous and juicy ass as he skips towards his agency every day.

Second of all, how dare he look so fucking handsome even with those massive Gucci bags under his eyes? How dare he make you feel like you need to smush his face between your boobs until he gives you that typical shark-smile you adore so much?

Oh man, you are so gone. So fucking gone and the man in front of you has no fucking idea about it.

“Can I have my usual, please?”

“No.” Red Riot looks gobsmacked. He’s clearly not in the mood for teasing but he schools his face anyway; he tries to laugh it off, he really tries, but he can’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Not until you tell me who made my favorite customer look so miserable. I need to start plotting a murder here, fella.” You mumble to him in a baby voice. Your upper body is basically laying on the counter at this point; you try to get as close to the red haired hero as humanly possible without being too obvious. Well, this is already extremely obvious but you have a feeling you could kiss this man on the mouth and he would still think you are just being friendly. Silly boy.

“You can’t murder something that doesn’t exist, Y/N.” He tries to smile again and fails miserably.

“It’s all in your head, isn’t it?” You mumble to yourself, but he jumps into your sentence.

“No, I mean there is no problem, I don’t know what you are talking about! Can I have my coffee? Please?” The redhead begs, but you can’t let this go. This man won’t leave this shop until he gives you a real smile.

“There is a lot of things I hate you know, but what I hate the most is when someone I care about lies into my face.” You retort angrily. “But I will give you another chance to redeem yourself by asking this: what can a poor little barista do for you to make that smile on your face a real one?” You can’t help it; your hand reaches out to the two sides of his lips and you push the skin up to force him to “smile”. His cheeks redden from the sudden closeness and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “I’m a good listener, you know. I also give good advice. This is also the perfect opportunity for you to say that a date with me would cheer you up. I’m just saying!” You finally let him go. Damn, thank god for your poker face because deep inside, you are absolutely freaking out about how close you were to him just a second ago. He smelled so fucking nice, quite strong but there is a hint of sweetness to it which you absolutely love.

“I… I think… that… maybe…” The man stutters adorably, his whole face as red as a lobster. “I just need a …hug? I might cry a bit though. I feel a bit lonely today plus I had a nightmare and…” You don’t wait for him to finish his sentence. You jump right through the stupid counter; you did get some training from your uncle so you are more than capable to do all kind of tricks like that; then run right into the stupidly tall man’s arms.

First, he just stands in one place, his arms hanging by his sides as you cuddle into his humongous chest; then slowly, he lets the facade crumble. There are tiny sniffles coming from the redhead as he finally puts his arms around you; the hug is tight, almost suffocating, but fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. You are not sure if it’s him who needed that or it was just you.

“Stop being so nice to me, I’ll fall in love with you.” He mumbles into your ears; you can feel the goosebumps going down your spine from his husky voice.

“Stop lying to yourself, Red, you are already in love with me.” You giggle as you leave a cheeky kiss on the man’s chin to make sure he has something else to think about today.

“Guilty as charged.” Red Riot’s signature grin is finally back and damn if it doesn’t hit differently from this angle. Your heart has a really hard time with the fact that he didn’t even try to deny his crush on you.

“Go to work, Red.” You smile at the hero and make your way back to finally make his coffee. “On the house.” You give him his latte, but not before you leave a tiny kiss on the redheads cheek. “And this too.” You smile at him fondly.

“Amazing customer service. 10/10. Tell your manager to give you a raise. Or something. Yeah. Uhm. Bye.”

You’ll never forget his manic grin as he ran out of the door and went the wrong way by accident. He almost head butted a pole as well.

Fucking hell, you absolutely adore this man.

Is it a crush? Is it love? Or is it just fondness? You have no idea. One thing for sure; you can’t wait to meet him again tomorrow.

~•🪨•~

Kirishima is in pieces.

He got a hug from his favorite barista. And a kiss. On his chin. And his cheeks… fuck, that’s two whole kisses. Not one, but two. And a hug.

Did he say, he got two whole kisses today?

Oh. He did.

Well, he will say it again.

Kirishima Eijirou just got a kiss from the most amazing girl in the whole city.

Who did?

He did.

“Wake the fuck up, Eijirou!” Katsuki yells into his face, the violent action topped up with a not-too-sneaky explosion attack, but even that’s not enough for him to completely get out of it; he stares at the lovely coffee in his hands, caramel latte with extra whip cream and chocolate shreds.

You know who made this coffee for him? The girl who kissed him. She did. Kiss him. On the cheek. And on his chin. Two kisses. Two.

Ahh, what a day to be a guy named Kirishima Eijirou.

What a day indeed.

“Katsuki, I think I’m having a fat ass crush.”

“Fucking marvelous, now can you give me the fucking agency stamp before I explode you through your asshole?” Katsuki sighs.

Kirishima is so proud of his bro. He’s been through a lot this year; he’s lost his assistant (no, she’s not dead, just pregnant. No, not from Katsuki, you cheeky bastard.) then got a new one he fell in love with, then he almost lost that person due to a quirk accident. Oh, and he almost died due to a quirk called “anguish” that makes you relive your worst nightmares until you give up and decide death is much better than the suffering that comes with it.

If that’s not enough, Katsuki’s feelings were reciprocated and Katsuki is basically a married man now who wakes up early every day to pack two bentos for his fiancé and himself, sometimes three when he feels generous towards his best bro. Katsuki is still his own, explosive self, don’t get Kirishima wrong; but he’s also much more emotional, much more patient when it comes to Kirishima’s silly flaws. He loved the old Katsuki just as much as he loves this one but he does feel like they’ve got much closer since Katsuki managed to open up to the world a bit more. He’s so proud of his best buddy.

“Sorry, bro.” Kirishima smiles at his best bud with nothing but fondness. Katsuki only rolls his eyes.

“So… how is she? Or he. Or whatever. They. Dunno.” He mutters and Kirishima perks up right away; his bestie is so open-minded, goddamit!

“She’s beautiful and kind. She smells really nice. She teases me all the time and doesn’t even see me as a man I think, but every single moment with her feels like a gift.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything first, he just looks at Kirishima, searching for something; Kirishima has no idea what he’s looking for.

“You know there is one thing I realized since I… uhm. Fell in love or whatever…”

“Yeah?”

“No one will be able to love you if you can’t even love yourself.” Katsuki retorts with his ears tinted red. “So work on that before you do anything stupid.”

Hm. Love yourself. Kirishima can do a lot of things, but self-love ain’t one of them. Self-hatred? Kirishima is secretly a pro at that. Self-pity? He’s number one at that as well.

But self-love? Zero points.

He has a long way to go before he can ask the girl of his dreams on a date then.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Wow, this chapter was so short! Sorry about that! The chapters will get longer as the story develops by the way, so don’t worry :D

- Thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter, I couldn’t fucking believe it, to be honest. I literally thought no one will respond to it, yet it got hundred likes in less than a week. Thank you so much, you actually made me tear up. I hope you will like this story until the end! 💜

TL (how is this so long already, I love you guys so much, honestly!): @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy

[hahaifolded]

Can We Make This Work? (7)

Nanami Kento x POC!Fem Reader x Gojo Satoru (Masterlist) Chapter 7: Class is In Session (Previous) (Next) Summary: You and Nanami brainstorm a bit. Gojo gets some help. Warnings: None

"Was that all?" you asked. Yuji nodded his head. Huh, faster than I thought. You really couldn't believe how many sorcerers had turned this boy down. In the matter of minutes, Yuji had asked you a series of very on-the-surface questions... your name? where are you from? rank? favorite part about being a sorcerer? while your (hopefully) soon-to-be-ex-husband ate his lunch.

"Now, time to type this up and send it to Gojo," Yuji exclaimed. Unfortunately, the boy's enthusiasm did not rub off on you as you rolled your eyes in disgust. Nanami noticed and stifled a laugh.

"Itadori," you called out. The boy paused from putting his notebook away and looked up, curious to hear you say his name. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Not at all. What's up?"

"How's Gojo as a teacher?" Nanami looked at you, also curious.

Yuji turned up to the sky to think about his answer. He looked back and you and shot you a wide grin. "Honestly, he's the best." The ways his eyes twinkled caught you off guard. "His teaching style is kinda unorthodox, but so is seeing curses. But you can tell he's determined in helping us get stronger."

Good to hear that he's at least a decent teacher, but damn really dampens my dislike for him, you thought. "Oh, that's nice to--"

Yuji interrupted you. "He even lets us cover his mission sometimes."

What? You asked him to repeat himself. Nanami tried to stop the conversation, but you shot him a glare. He immediately went silent.

Without even realizing the shift in your emotions, Yuji continued. "Oh yeah, sometimes he'll send us on some of his missions for experience."

"Experience?" you scoffed. You looked at Nanami with wide eyes. You couldn't believe your ears.

Nanami cleared his throat. "I also don't agree with it, but according to him, it gives the students real world experience." REAL WORLD EXPERIENCE?

"Oh, for sure. Really helps us hone in our skills," added Yuji, still in a good mood. He finished packing his things and thanked you once again for the interview, not realizing the amount of trouble he put his teacher in. Bidding you a farewell, he ran off to who knows where.

Once the boy was out of earshot, you faced your husband. "Does Principal Yaga know about this?" you asked.

"He encourages it actually." You scoffed. Nanami continued, "We're all aware of the risks, but really there isn't any other way to teach students how to kill curses without having them actually kill curses. Trust me, if there was a better way, we'd implement that."

If there was a better way...

-- -- --

After a studious lunch, you and Nanami went your separate ways. It wasn't until after Nanami finished cooking dinner that he saw you again.

As he enjoyed his bowl of stir-fry, he heard the door open. She home now. He called out your name and informed you that dinner was ready if you wanted to grab a plate. You yelled out a weak okay and entered the kitchen. He continued to eat but as he heard pots and pans moving and the stove turn on, he got suspicious.

"Everything okay?" he called out.

"Yeah, just making some tea. Stomach," you answered.

Oh.

You eventually left the kitchen with a mug in hand. However, instead of joining Nanami like you usually did, you headed straight to your room.

"Wait," Nanami called you out. He actually had to talk to you about the arrangement. You seemed surprised when Nanami asked you to join him. You slowly took the seat right next to him.

After clearing his throat, Nanami began to speak. "So I've been thinking about this... deal of ours and..." You leaned closer, eyes glowing in anticipation. The 7:3 sorcerer felt his face heat up. She's cute when she's excited. He shook his head at the thought. She's going to be your ex-wife... stop that. He continued, "and I made a list of some candidates." You leaned back in your seat, almost as if you were disappointed.

You took a sip from your mug and asked if you could hear this list. "Sure... well my first thought was Gojo Sa--"

"Not happening, next." Nanami chuckled. It was nice to know that his wife... soon-to-be-ex wife... was on the same page as him when it came to the menace.

"Understandable. Then how about Atsuya Kusakabe? The second-year teacher? Strong sorcerer, comes from a decent family, and he's expressed some... interest" Your eyes darkened for a bit. However, before Nanami could react, you let out a deep laugh.

Through a fit of giggles, you admitted, "I'm pretty sure he's scared of me, but okay. Anyone else?"

"Yaga."

You paused. "Yaga as in Principal Yaga?" Nanami nodded. You started to laugh again. "I'll keep that in consideration. Who else?"

"That's it," he admitted. Maybe list was an exaggeration. You immediately stopped laughing.

"That's it? Really?" you cried incredulously. "Are there not that many eligible bachelors or... oh, it's me, isn't it?" You shrunk in your seat.

Nanami felt the wind get knocked out of his chest. Without thinking, he immediately started talking. "What, no... oh god no, not you. Trust me, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife" He didn't miss the tight smile you shot him. He took in a deep breath. Now in a much calmer voice, he shared, "No, it's not you. It's just that many sorcerers are... not kind. If I'm going to give you off to anyone, I want to make sure it's someone decent... even if it has to be Gojo."

You took a sip from your mug but kept your eyes on him. You reached for his hand and grabbed it. "Thank you, Kento. You really are a good man." Nanami's breath got stuck in his throat. Despite everything, you still thought he was a decent person. He just nodded his head as he wasn't sure if he was capable of saying anything right now.

You let his hand go and shot him a small smile. "Well, seeing that we're on the topic, I have a possible candidate." Why did Nanami's chest ache all of a sudden?

"Who?"

"Takuma Ino," you replied. INO? REALLY? You must have sensed Nanami's disbelief as you immediately explained yourself. "He seems nice, from what I heard, it sounds like he has a formidable technique that is getting stronger everyday, and he's kinda cute."

She has a point... with the first two at least. Why didn't I think of him? Nanami got up from his seat and grabbed his plate. He needed to move, do something, as this conversation was starting to become too much.

You followed him to the kitchen. As he washed his plates, you asked him what did he think.

"He's not a bad choice. I just don't know if he would be interested. Ino is--"

"Gay?"

"He's... what, no. Wait, let me finish." Nanami stopped the water and dried off the plate. "He kinda looks up to me. I don't know if he would be interested in dating... my wife." You looked away from him and slowly nodded your head.

"Oh, I see," you admitted before losing your composure. You laughed again. Unable to contain his own laughter, Nanami joined you. You both stood in the kitchen laughing at how crazy this situation was.

After calming down, you patted Nanami on the back. "Don't worry. I'll get us out of this." Why did his stomach churn again?

-- -- --

"Gojo, why are we on the track?" asked Nobara. As soon as the trio reached the classroom, Gojo immediately ushered them to the track, saying that he had a surprise for them.

"More importantly, what's the surprise?" beamed Yuji. The boy started to list off the assortment of things it could be. A bicycle, a dog, a pool, a trampoline...

"Don't get your hopes up. It's probably manual labor," added Megumi.

"Hey! Cleaning my shoes by hand builds character." Gojo stood in front of the three and scanned the entire track.

"So, what is it then?" asked Nobara. Nobara and Yuji peered at their teacher with curious eyes. Megumi stayed in the back, but looked to him at the side.

Gojo clapped his hands. "Well, my lovely students, the surprise will for sure be a surprise. And you want to know why?" Two of the three students squealed. "Because, I too will be surprised!" he cheered. Nobara and Yuji jumped in joy before realizing their teacher's words.

Megumi looked at Gojo with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. "You have no idea what the surprise is?"

"No clue. Yaga just told me to bring you three out here" The three groaned in disappointment and moved to the bleachers. They don't have to be that dramatic about it.

Gojo felt a familiar source of energy enter the track. Oh, is that Kusakabe and the second years? And it was. The sword-welding teacher and his three students were trailing right behind him. Yaga must have told them to come here as well. Interesting.The students joined the first-years while Kusakabe joined Gojo.

"Any clue what's going on?" he asked the 6-eyes user. Gojo just shook his head. Despite all the mystery surrounding this surprise, Gojo felt excited. Finally something interesting happens around here.

Suddenly, two familiar energies entered the track. Principal Yaga and... you?

"Gojo, Kusakabe, students, great everyone is here," announced Yaga. You trailed behind him, waving at the pink-haired boy. Yaga introduced you to the two teachers fairly quickly and began to lecture the students. "Students, this is Mrs. Nanami," Gojo noticed you wince, "and you will all be working with her at least once a week to hone in on your techniques."

Gojo's breath hitched as he caught on what was happening. No way.

Maki raised her hand. "So like extra sparring practice?"

You stepped in front of Yaga and answered her question. "Not exactly. I'm not sure what you know about me."

Panda piped up. "Uh...you're not from here... you just got married to that one sorcerer that never smiles and uhhh... you might be a curse yourself." Gojo saw your eye twitch.

"Okay... wow, that's... wow." You shook your head. "Okay, two of the three are true, I guess. But no, I'm not a curse. I'm a curse user... I guess." Most of the students gasped. "Oh, so that's worse?"

Yaga jumped in. "What she means to say is that she is a sorcerer that is able to control curses."

"Exactly! Her technique will actually be very beneficial for you all," added Gojo. He rushed to your side. If things had turned out differently, he would be here doing this.

"Let me just show you," you said as you took a step away from Gojo and towards the students. "Yuji! What's the highest grade cursed you've exorcized?"

The pink-haired boy straightened his back, not expecting to be called on. "Uhh, technically, a special grade."

You hesitated a bit. "Oh wow... really? Wow, congratulations!" You looked at Gojo who nodded at you. That's my student!

"Well, just to be safe." You turn around and let out a first-grade curse from your mouth. A translucent frog-like creature sat on the field, eyes a bloody red with all of its organs clearly visible through its pale skin. It faced the crowd and let out a loud screech. "Try exorcizing this guy for me, will you?"

Yuji hesitantly got up. He stood in between you and Gojo and looked at the two of you for guidance. You assured the boy he will be fine while Gojo told him to knock himself out. Feeling supported, he rushed the curse.

He was able to land a few punches on the creature before it jumped in the air. It stuck out his tongue and grabbed the boy from his ankles, completely swiping him off his feet. The curse slowly dragged Yuji towards its gaping mouth while Yuji struggled to escape its grasp. However, before Yuji fell into the jaws of the curse, you tutted out loud. The curse immediately unwrapped its tongue on the boy and closed its mouth, becoming completely docile. Once free, Yuji shot up and got into a fighting position.

"Yuji!" Gojo called him back. He walked backwards from the creature, never removing his eyes on it.

"Good job out there," you congratulated him. You asked him to take a seat and looked back at the rest of the students. "Once a week, you will all work with me, fighting and exorcizing my curses. That way you can all get the necessary practice without running the risk of dying, because what's the point of making you stronger if you die before you can reach your full potential?"

The students buzzed with excitement. Kusakabe and Yaga smiled.

And Gojo just stared at you in awe. What a woman.

Word Count: 2151

Previous - Masterlist - Next

Author's Notes: As I wrote this, I didn't even feel that I wrote over 2k words. Hope y'all liked this chapter. I personally did!!

ALSO, do y'all like how I organize these chapters? Does it help to read this? Do let me know! additionally, Something I just realized here is that I watched JJK subbed but when I write the dialogue here, I think of their English subbed voices except Nanami’s ❤️. So lol.

Also just wanted to warn y'all that I do block ageless blogs so please, pretty please, put an indicator in your blog or you know... BLOCKED

[roriaa]

When Sun and Moon meet - S2

Zuko x Fem!WaterBender!Reader Enemies to Lovers

As one of the Princesses of the Northern Water tribe, you were blessed with a gift by the moon. However you were permitted to be allowed to use the gift at all costs. From many hidden waterbending usages, the aftermath of the avatar visiting the Northern Tribe had led to your beginning journey, hiding yourself as a water bender as a princess from the Northern water tribe

Warnings: none

Masterlist

҉ * ‧͙ ⋆ ⁺ ༓ ☾ Chapter 6 - Hidden in Ba Sing Se

“My leg is broken so I have this disabled specialized animal” I smiled innocently, leaning against my Buffalo Yak for support. The lady sighed “usually i'm not allowed to invite animals…but you're an exception, you’re royalty for the northern water tribe after all” Her eyes sparkled as she took a closer look at my passport. The lady stamps my ticket and gives it to me graciously. “Thank the spirits” I muttered under my breath, hopping on my animal. This is when becoming a princess is actually beneficial. No one cares if you're royalty and do something a little…wrong, unless if you're part of the fire nation, royalty or not you're bound to be untrusted. I looked for an area with no people nearby, luckily there was quite an amount of open space. I got off my Buffalo Yak and pulled off the bandages resembling a horrible injury. “Aren't you lucky that I used my brain to get us both in there, I was scared that they weren't going to allow you in. I had to fake an injury for you- uh” I stopped myself “I never gave you a name”. The Buffalo Yak made a sound which I hummed at. “I'll name you… uh..Ah…Ah-ku…Aku!” I springed up in excitement. “Aku means the moon, pretty name right?” I smiled sheepishly to an animal, who probably doesn't even care. “Okay Aku, you and I are going to have a fresh start in Ba sing se” I slightly hug Aku “No future arranged marriage plans, no restrictment for my water bending and no more princess duties for me” I smiled in contentment for my future plans.

I internally gag at the situation I'm in. I couldn't tell if it was the disgusting food they supply us with or the fact I'm seasick on a boat or even both combined.  I'm leaning towards the first option, it's not like this is the first boat I have ever rode on. Thinking all of this in my head made me feel like a brat but what do you expect? A girl who lived in luxury her whole life has to deal with this…food…? That same girl was also complaining of being a princess, mixed signals. Aku was getting transported by another boat, I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried. I thought escaping would be more fun than this, in fact ‘this’ is quite boring. It's not like I regret it, I just wished it could be more enjoyable than looking out at the sea. I make sure the wind doesn't blow off my hood from the cloak I was wearing to hide my identity. The last thing I wanted was word to go out that the Northern water tribe princess is here. I grip on the edge of my hood, digesting the wind that was coming from the side. 

Fresh start. 

Fresh start. 

That's all I'm able to think of at this moment. 

  ҉   ☾

“Where did all this food come from?” I said out loud. Loud enough for the boy who was passing the food to hear. “The people were generous enough to give us better food” He smiled. I look up at him and laugh. “Oh really?” “Yes really” He joined in my laughter and sat next to me. “So what's your name?” His eyes twinkled as I leaned back against the deck. 

“Y/N” “Y/N huh? Sounds pretty familiar-” “My parents named me after the northern tribe princess” I quickly said, pulling out a complete lie out of nowhere. It's pretty believable, I would say. It's quite common for parents to name their children after royalties, I personally believe it's quite dumb. He laughed which made me awkwardly giggle “What's your name?” “They call me Jet”

“Why are you going to Ba sing se?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions” “I only asked two…” I deadpanned as he continued to smile. “I'm going to start a new life” He responded while I continued to eat my food. “I guess quite a lot of people have been coming for the same reason, huh?” 

“Yeah, it's quite a good place to start”. Silence right after that. I like to keep it that way. “You should meet my freedom fighters, I have also met 2 others as well. I think you will get along with them.” Jet offered, already standing up, holding out his hand for me to reach. But I declined, shaking my head. “Im good staying here, thanks” I smiled. I wasn't in the mood to talk to more than 2 people today, neither participating in long conversations. He shrugged “Then I’ll see you around” and waved me off. I waved back slowly putting my hand down, sighing, hopefully tomorrow we can make it to the wall. Oh Yue, how much I wish you were here right now. I looked up at the moon, I couldn't tell but the moon seemed a little brighter than usual.

Leaning back against the sitting area provided, I felt so fatigued like my whole body was going to give out. I couldn't get Aku to help me because…well Aku is getting transported completely differently. “I always wondered why you wear a hood everywhere,” Jet, who came out of nowhere, came towards me. I laughed awkwardly, clutching the fabric closer to me. “It's a style choice” I whispered. “What a style choice” He laughed which made me smile. I felt the sweat from the anxiety I was facing. “I bet you would be even prettier with the hood off, but it's okay you're still pretty now” He smiled cheekily. I wanted to roll my eyes but I stopped from doing so. “Thank you” I said quickly, trying to make him just leave. Just as I thought he was decent. “Are you sure you don't want to meet my crew?” “I'm sure, please don't worry about me.”

“Do you not want to join in our adventure?” “I prefer going solo” I tightly smiled, hoping Jet would just leave me alone. Don't get me wrong, Jet isn't mean or bad I would say. At least to me he is not, however I'm quite literally hiding my identity from him. “Are you sure?” Jet moved a little close to my comfort. “No one would mind.” I leaned back against the pillar, pushing him back a little. “I'm definitely sure,” I said uncomfortably. “Whatever floats your boat” He cheekily smiled and went over to 4 others. The 2 he was talking to looked familiar. One was quite old, holding a cup of tea and the other was a boy who had a scar… I immediately got up from where I sat, and walked over to stand far away from them. Yes I was tired but I needed to remain precautious. I wish I could be able to kill him, I couldn't in this situation. Not too long the train arrived and I immediately found a spot far away from the two. I look at the window, seeing my own reflection faintly. Man, I was tired. The train starts slowly picking up pace as it moves. Oh what luck do I have?

“Aku!” I yell in joy as I find the Buffalo Yak. He made some bizarre animal sounds to show his gratitude. I got on his back as he started walking. “Now buddy, I actually don't know where to go” I sigh, I really should have made a plan. “Lets just book a room to sleep in, we’re going to be staying here for a while”.

<- Back - Next ->

a/n: AGAIN Apologies for not having a chapter yesterday, just didnt have motivation to re-read everything. I have a lot of the chapters already preplanned so tomorrow yall should be able to get a chapter. AGAIN I have an AO3 ACCOUNT which im going to be posting the same chapters as here however tumblr should be always ahead. Anways have a nice day and take care of yourself! Thank you for reading :)

--

Taglist: @luvkvni @katovano @karmaswitch @someonesmember @velvet-spider @sh3sa1dwhat @nerdisthenewcool @meiraloves2dmen @fqnfics101 @iluvme547 @leaderwon @yukihatesreoyo @heart4hees @4l3x1s @kkissaku @corpsebridenightamare @newjellis @fatkish