#I love this particular spot around dusk

[wonwoonlight]

by the moon | jeon wonwoo

➝ werewolf!Wonwoo x mage!Reader (ft. Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Jisoo, Jihoon, Minghao, Chan)

➝ fantasy!au but i kinda just make my own universe // angst // fluff // hurt comfort // a little action? // suggestive at the end

➝ word count: 18k~ (loool)

➝warning: the magic concept isn't mine but I alternate it to my universe so lets not start pointing fingers about whats right and whats not, mentions of blood and kidnapping, this is the first time i write a fantasy au slash some action so im sorry if this aint it 🥴, i have no beta so sorry in advance for typos and so on ;-; implied sexual activities (no smut), suggestive scenes in the end, that's about it?

➝A/N: happy birthday, my muse, the love of my life, and everything in between 🤍 I started writing this not long after FTS teasers came out and and never expected this to go past 10k sjdhfbhsdbf honestly i thought it'd be like 6k at most. anyway! i hope you'll enjoy it despite the length and my nonexistent experience in writing fantasy, let alone action💀 don't hesitate to tell me your thought🤍

Wonwoo can’t figure you out.

It’s been a few months since he’s joined the pack, quite late for a werewolf his age, but he was an omega for good reasons and he wouldn’t even be here if he didn’t owe Seungcheol, his alpha now, his life.

The process was quite bizarre, as Wonwoo never intended to join any pack to begin with–has never considered to be a part of one since he’s learned the concept of it. He didn’t even know it was possible for a werewolf to join a pack this late (he’s 26, for God’s sake), but it was one fateful evening where he almost got killed by a ghoul that Seungcheol came to his rescue.

What was even a ghoul doing out in a town?

But, then again, it was stupid of him to go out during dusk in a town he doesn’t know well enough.

Seungcheol himself almost lost his life too, and Wonwoo still remembered thinking why on earth would this man throw himself for some omega in danger that he saw by chance. But it was the way his whole pack suddenly came through and pried the ghoul off their alpha’s body that Wonwoo ever witnessed a pack move as one. And when he saw Seungcheol staggering forward, it was reflex that fueled him to catch him even though he’s a good two meters away.

And then he found out that these creatures have been lurking in this particular town when dusk comes around. Seungcheol’s pack was patrolling–had been for the past few weeks–because they kept on detecting something crossing the borders and because…who else would patrol if not them? Those humans know nothing of them and the danger that looms above their heads.

Next thing he knew, he’s visiting Seungcheol everyday because he felt like he owed the older man at least that much. Wonwoo might be indifferent and ignorant towards a lot of things, but he knows how to be grateful and he was waiting for the older guy to get back to his health before offering his gratitude and saying his goodbye.

At least that was the plan, until Seungcheol talked to him thoroughly and said there’s always an open spot for Wonwoo in his pack. Wonwoo isn’t sure what made Seungcheol say that, nor what really compelled him to say yes–but he did.

And now he’s here, three months later, trying his best to hold back hisses as you tend to his wound.

“It’s getting very concerning.” You frown, and Wonwoo wonders if you’re too close or if it’s just the wolf in him being too aware of his surroundings. He can feel your soft breath against the back of his neck, and he winces a little at the warmth against the wound and your proximity.

He’s never liked getting into fights with spirits; the aftermath is always nasty because they’re not exactly physical unless they take another being’s form–which means the werewolf's ability to heal faster doesn’t exactly work when it comes to their attacks.

“The attacks this month alone are already more than the last three months combined.”

Seungcheol passes by and pats your head before plopping down next to you on the sofa.

“I know. But that’s why we need to patrol more, Moon.”

Wonwoo tunes out the conversation, already knowing the content of it before it even finishes. The humans in this area are lucky Seungcheol’s–his also, Wonwoo guesses–pack is here to protect the territory. As much as it concerns them, the weirdness that has been happening the last few months are just urban legends or stories getting out of hand.

Why would they believe a hellhound made its way to the town, almost killing an innocent civilian being at the wrong place at the wrong time if not for Jeonghan pouncing on top of it with Minghao following close behind?

As far as they–and the victim himself–know, there was a stray dog who attacked him in the middle of the night but thankfully you were there to help him and your brothers had fended the dog off before anything could happen.

That was your work.

Wonwoo’s pretty sure the victim wasn’t that out of it when it happened; he’s definitely sober enough to register the huge monster was anything but a stray dog. But you had done your magic, summoned magic circles and used your runes, making the guy unconscious and a little disoriented when he woke up again.

Wonwoo still remembers the kind smile you offered the victim when you relayed the fabricated story of a stray dog pouncing on him and how he went unconscious for quite a bit after that. The guy didn’t question anything, whether he accepted your words because of your magic or because of the gentle glint adorning your eyes, Wonwoo would never know.

Just like how he never knows how to perceive you.

There’s something about you that pulls him in for reasons that he can’t comprehend. But he never does anything about it, doesn’t see why he should, too.

You’re a part of the pack, that much he knows. Everyone calls you Moon, and Wonwoo never finds out your actual name and now, months later, it feels a little too late to ask anyone of it or how your nickname comes to be.

Not that he’s had any business calling you so far.

At first glance, he thought you were but a mage that was a part of the pack. But he just needed a few more seconds to figure out you do have wolf blood within you even though it’s very faint; untrained wolves wouldn’t know if they don’t try to see it.

He has never seen you transform though, and while he’s seen quite a few magic users himself, he has never seen one with wolf blood. One has wolf blood for a reason: to be wolves. Not… something else. Like a mage.

Your magic mainly uses runes, and he’d see you practice from time to time even though he never lingers long enough to be bothersome. Just a glance here and there whenever he passes by.

Jisoo, Jeonghan’s mate, would sometimes join you even though she’s just there to accompany you or help you gather whatever you need for practice because Jisoo is very much human (he also doesn’t know how she ended up as Jeonghan’s mate but he’s not really curious), and she’s your only female companion within the pack.

The wolf blood within you is so–so faint that if it’s not because he already knew you are a wolf by blood, he wouldn’t suspect you’re one even a bit. Sometimes he finds himself wondering if you never transform because you can’t, but he stops the thought from going too far because it’s none of his business.

“It’s okay to come closer, you know.” Your voice is soft and your eyes are focused on the ruby stones in front of you. If not for the fact that the house is empty except for you both and Minghao sleeping upstairs, Wonwoo wouldn’t know you’re even speaking to him. “I know we don’t talk a lot, but we’re in the same pack so we should at least get along, right?”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, not that you expect him to, but you can hear his steps getting closer and he stands right beside you in front of your working table.

He’s a good one meter away from you, his eyes busy scanning everything that lays on top of it because it’s actually the first time he’s been this close. He doesn’t want to cross a line and he’s not that curious (nor is he nosy), so he has never tried to see even if you’re not home. There’s just something personal about this place and Wonwoo feels like he’s intruding.

“You can ask.” Your voice is so steady, so sure that Wonwoo’s wandering gaze means curiosity instead of ignorance. But Wonwoo takes the bait. He is kind of curious, has always been when it comes to runes and magic.

“Why ruby?” Wonwoo picks up the red stone, his fingers easily enclosing the cut oval before he asks. “Do you only use stones for your runes?”

He can hear the soft amusement in your grin, though unsure why you find his question amusing. It doesn’t feel like you’re mocking him though. Far from it, in fact–you’re excited that you get the chance to talk someone’s ears off about something you love most and it’s clear that Wonwoo’s asking because he’s curious, interested, and genuinely wants to know.

After that, he spends his time next to you in your practice room every time he’s able to; not enough to be called often, but definitely enough for you to register the pattern of his heartbeat everytime he makes his way there.

He doesn’t really talk, but Wonwoo can’t deny the warmth spreading through his chest everytime you light up when a particular rune shines brighter than the other, or when your practice goes better than expected.

He wonders if it’s possible for someone’s eyes to glow brighter than the moon like yours do. Is that way they call you Moon?

Wonwoo jumps when the jade runes on the table burst the exact second something crosses the border you’ve set up on the corner of the room. There’s a grin on your face and your eyes are twinkling in excitement.

They’re probably warmer than the sun, too.

Jisoo is taking you out on a date, telling you there’s a cafe she’s been wanting to try but Jeonghan doesn’t like sweets nor coffee.

“So I’m the second choice.” You mock offense, nudging her off you as she clings to your arm like a koala.

She gasps dramatically, a pout on her face as she denies the accusation. “I haven’t had you all for myself these days and I’m thinking about how I miss spending time with you, but this is what I got?”

You laugh at her antics. For all its worth, you’re glad you have Jisoo as your close (and only female) friend; she’s the sunshine your little pack needs, and while everyone was skeptical of Jeonghan’s choice in a mate at first, you know they’d all die for her if it comes to it now.

Of course no one hopes they’d encounter any situation that would call for that.

“So.” Jisoo sits down with her arms crossed, looking at you expectantly.

“So?” You quirk an eyebrow, confused as to what she’s possibly talking about.

“You and Wonwoo, huh?”

You blink once. And then twice.

What?

But Jisoo doesn’t say anything else, simply stares at you with a demanding posture. Between her tendency to be a little bizarre and to be vocal about everything that passes her mind no matter how questionable they are, you’ve always known she’ll lose her mind one of these days. But you never thought it'd happen this early.

Her stare turns into something else, almost like something clicks in her head and her mouth drops slightly before she shakes her head without words. It always annoys you when people do this (granted, you don’t know a lot of people), blatantly acting like they know something that you don’t and proceed to not tell you anything.

“What.” You finally relent; cheeks puffed out of annoyance.

“Nothing.” She shrugs, sipping her orange juice.

“Soo!”

At your whine, she laughs and leans forward on the table, elbows propped and her chin on her palms, her knowing eyes glinting with amusement like a kid given a new toy to play with.

“Just that you both have spent a lot of time together these days.”

Huh, is that what she’s referring to?

“So?”

Jisoo rolls her eyes, and you pout at the way she’s shaking her head like you don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you don’t.

“So.”

You look at her, unimpressed, and your friend cracks into a laugh before she reaches out to squeeze your cheeks.

“There’s nothing going on between us.” You finally relent and address it head on, Jisoo would never back down either way and you’d rather talk about it than risk a headache.

And it’s not like you’re hiding or even lying about it, there really is nothing between the two of you. Yes, he’s easy on the eyes and you may or may not be a little attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean there’s something going on between you two.

It’s just been some time since you meet someone new and the way you’d tense when he comes a little closer, or the way your heart would embarrassingly skip a beat when he steps into your practice room is nothing but a fleeting interest.

It’ll go away after a bit.

A wolf like Wonwoo wouldn’t want someone like you, anyway.

“We just talk about magic,” you offer the truth. It’s not like you and Wonwoo ever talk about anything else but your magic or the whereabouts of the pack and their patrolling schedules. None of you try to cross the line, never asking anything personal about each other even though it’s true that Wonwoo has spent more time by your side now compared to the other members of the pack. “He’s just interested in it, Soo, and I’m happy to talk about my runes.”

“He’s interested in your magic,” Jisoo insists, a teasing grin on her face.

You shake your head, and thankfully Jisoo drops the topic, not wanting to annoy you when you clearly don’t want to talk about it. She talks instead about the concerning number of attacks these days, how Jeonghan has been more antsy everytime she tells him she’s going out because he’s worried something would happen to her.

“What do you reckon is happening?”

Her tone is light, but you don’t need to be a genius to be able to detect the fear in her eyes.

The girl is fidgeting a little, and it’s at times like this that you feel like you have to be the older sister for Jisoo even though you’re younger than her. You’ve always admired her for going against everything and leaving her family behind to be with Jeonghan.

You’ve never really been a fan of romance, but you know it takes everything to be able to decide something as big as that. It’s not easy to be aware of the danger lurking in the dark, even more so when she’s just… human.

And you’ve offered to erase her memories if she chooses to leave your world and go back to her normal one, so she can live in ignorant bliss. But when she firmly rejects and says that she wants to be with Jeonghan and the pack, everyone swears they’d protect her with all their lives.

Yet, for her parents, Jisoo is nothing but a disgrace for choosing a man over her own blood.

It hurts you to know someone as sweet as Kim Jisoo is labeled a disgrace, but you also know her family has never really been a family to her–they do nothing but compare her to her older siblings who, according to human standards, are the perfect children.

And as much as it pains her to be constantly compared to the achievements of her siblings, Jisoo loves her family with all her heart. That’s just the kind of person she is. Which is why you know it took her an infinite amount of courage to tell them she’s never coming back, not offering them any explanations except that she’s going to move far away with Jeonghan who they simply know to be her human boyfriend.

Jeonghan marked her as his mate that night; a promise to take care of her for the rest of his life.

At least her siblings know deep down why she chooses to leave, and they would still update her from time to time to let her know they still want her in their lives.

“Don’t worry,” you try to sound as calm as possible, reaching for her hand as your finger grazes the bracelet on her wrist. It’s your gift for her, a protective talisman with your runes carved on the beads and magic flowing through it. The magic is connected to the rune in your necklace, and you’ll be notified once the bracelet detects danger upon Jisoo.

When the pack found out about this, they demanded to get one also and you ended up designing it for everyone; if any of you is in danger, everyone will know where to find the other. You’ve threatened them all to never take it off because you’ve even accustomed the talisman to their preferred form of jewelry.

Which reminds you, you should probably make one for Wonwoo too.

“We’ll protect you.” You grasp her hand firmly, trying to ease her worry.

She nods, and if the fear in her eyes isn’t enough, the way her heartbeat picks up tells you just how afraid Jisoo actually is.

You can’t blame her. How can you when you’re worried? The protective charms you’ve set on the town’s borders have been triggering the alarm nonstop every few days, detecting something that doesn't belong crossing to town. It has never been this distressing–has never detected so many hostile energies this often, too.

It used to be pretty peaceful even though your pack is always alert and ready–maybe only two or three creatures detected crossing the border in a month, and, most of the time, they aren’t hostile; just some faeries lost in the forest, or some nature spirits roaming the territory. The few common creatures that have to be fended off are usually wraiths, poltergeists, or maybe even other werewolves looking for troubles. (What are they thinking about, crossing another pack’s territory?)

Anyhow, since a few months ago, just two weeks before your pack’s encounter with Wonwoo, there have been more hostile creatures crossing the border, which is why you have been mostly anxious than you are alert. You know something strong crossed the border near then, but there was no attack whatsoever and the trace was so faint that you’re not able to track whatever crossed the border.

Whatever that thing is, it’s powerful. Powerful enough that you can’t detect its whereabouts despite its supposedly enormous power. Something that you probably haven’t faced yet–that you might not be strong enough to face yet.

You have a suspicion that it was the cause of all those attacks. But it doesn’t make sense, what could be strong enough to command those creatures and arrange their attacks? For what reason, too?

Nevertheless, you turn to Jisoo with what you hope to be a comforting smile and a squeeze of her hand.

“I promise Soo, we’ll protect you no matter what. And you know how to activate some of the rune stones that I’ve made for you, right? We’ve been practicing and you’re good. You’ll be fine.”

Wonwoo’s munching on his cereal in the dining room when you sit down next to him. He quirks an eyebrow, asking you a silent question because you never really approach him unless you’re together in your practice room, in which you’d often ask him to get this and that as you focus on your runes.

“Do you want a ring, bracelet, or a necklace?” you blurt out without context. “Or earrings, I guess.”

His questioning gaze burns the side of your face, and you hope he’s too sleepy to realize your heartbeat runs a little faster at that. It is only 8 on a Saturday anyway.

“For what?”

You point the moon pendant on your necklace. “A protective talisman to alert us if any of the pack is in danger. Everyone has one, I’ve just realized I haven’t made yours.”

Ah.

Wonwoo has been wondering if he’s just making things up when he notices the same pattern on everyone’s jewelry, so to know that it’s you who designed them for protection… Wonwoo can’t say he’s surprised. Something within him melts at your question, whilst everyone’s been accepting and no one seems to be skeptical of his presence in the pack, he truthfully still feels like he’s an outsider at times.

It’s the product of his own wall though, he admits. Wonwoo’s used to being alone, to be independent and to care for himself. He’s not selfish, but he never really goes out of his way to help people in need unless they ask for his help–so to be in a pack that apparently goes as far as protecting an entire territory because they feel responsible for the ignorant… it’s not an easy environment to adapt to.

So far, Wonwoo really only does it out of respect for Seungcheol and the rest of his pack. He never really feels like he has to help. He’s just doing his duty as a pack member. And while it does make him feel a certain type of things to know he’s helping people who are helpless and know no better, it’s not… out of the goodness of his heart.

Which brings him here, a weird tug in his heartstring at your question which basically embeds his place in the pack. He… really is Seungcheol’s beta, huh? He’s surprised to recognize the realization isn’t unpleasant. It’s quite the contrary, if he’s honest, like a warm blanket enveloping his chest even though he still tends to be alone most of the time.

Little steps. He’s only been there for three or so months anyway.

“Something that won’t get in the way.” He nods to himself and continues eating. When you simply stare at him without saying anything, he continues. “I don’t mind an earring or a ring.”

“Your ear is pierced?”

“No.”

You look at him weirdly.

“Getting pierced wouldn’t take long.” Your eyes wandered to his ear, the tip of his hair grazing it and you have to hold yourself back from reaching out and combing your fingers through his hair. “Do you have magic to do it for me?”

“My magic is rune magic,” you deadpan. “Do you want me to pierce your ear with the edge of my stone?”

The sound of his chuckle travels through your ears, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve heard his husky laugh like this. You don’t think you have, because if you do, you’re sure you wouldn’t stare at him as if gauging that you hear right.

“But I can probably do it.” You clear your throat before he notices you staring, averting your eyes elsewhere. “I did Minghao’s too. Just don’t complain if it hurts.”

“Did he complain?”

You glare at him, and Wonwoo hides his smile by taking another spoonful of the cereal.

“Any stones you prefer?” You ask again for some reason, even though you could’ve cared less when Jihoon whined he wanted a ruby instead of an emerald. You force yourself to believe that you just don’t want to make him something you’re not sure he’d like, but you know–you know you just want to be here longer and listen to him talk more.

Wonwoo hums, thinking to himself. You let him be, content with being able to look at him without having to be conscious of it. His eyes find yours then, and you hold his gaze because you can’t look away. You see a glint of gold glow through his eyes for a second, and you cough before you avert your gaze elsewhere before he realizes your ears are getting red out of embarrassment.

You can still feel his eyes on the side of your face for what feels like hours until he eventually says again.

“Moonstone.”

Your eyes find his again, unsure why the sound of his answer makes your face feels warm.

“I think they’re pretty.”

There’s no way he doesn’t catch the jump in your heartbeat. At least you get a glimpse of his grin before he looks the other way, his amusement isn’t lost on you.

Jeon fucking Wonwoo.

“An incubus?” Jeonghan’s voice rings through the silent room, the chills throughout his body obviously not due to the air conditioner in the room. Wonwoo sees you flinch a little, and then notices Minghao’s thumb softly caressing the skin near your knee. “Why would an incubus be in this town?”

Jisoo has to grip his hand to remind him to calm down, and if it’s not the warmth of her palm against his, you’re sure it’s the fear painting her eyes that makes Jeonghan exhale a deep breath and sit back down next to her.

“We saw a hellhound last month, Han,” Seungcheol reminds him grimly. “Not even in the forest, it’s literally on the main road. Pouncing on a human.”

You stare at the television, tuning out the rest of the pack’s conversation because you know they’re all antsy and it’ll be seconds away from another debate. Five young female adults have been reported missing since two weeks ago, one of them was found today–barely even sane.

“It’s the convenient store two blocks away from the public library.” Someone enters the living room with a resigned tone, making everyone turn to him at once. He’s still in his uniform, and you can feel how agitated he is from the way his shoulders tensed and the irregular pattern of his heartbeat. “That’s always the last place these girls were seen.”

“Do you have more details you can share with us?” Seungcheol asks, worried.

Chan sighs and closes his eyes in contempt. He feels utterly useless as a police officer; he knows everyone in the station believes this is a kidnapping episode, which is partly true, but they wouldn’t know what they’re going up against, that they can’t go against whatever’s kidnapping these girls either.

Since the beginning, he’s had a hunch that this must be another supernatural case and he’d have to yet again depend on the pack for this. He doesn’t want to be unsure, so he’s been keeping it to himself, but after the victim turned up and started spewing things that the other officers deem to be insane, Chan knows this can’t be normal.

“Where did you find the girl?” you ask him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Chan is fairly new to the supernatural scene, and you know he’s being careful because he doesn’t yet understand the clear rule of this thing even though he’s already working with you for at least seven months. Before him, your pack used to work together with another guy called Kim Junmyeon, but Junmyeon has moved to another city with his family and has kindly introduced Chan to your pack as his successor last year.

It’s impossible to work on a case like this if you don’t get details (sometimes even backups) from authority. It took a while for your pack to eventually work together with Junmyeon; building the trust that he won’t tell a soul about the nature of your pack took months even though you’ve bound him with a blood pact that would never let him spill the secret the moment he found out about your kind, and then finding the dynamic and the best way to go around things without making the rest of the authority suspicious–that took you almost a year.

“Someone called 911 because they found someone unconscious on the side of the road,” he relays the info calmly. “But the hospital contacted us after identifying the girl as one of the missing persons on the news. Seungkwan was allowed to question her for a bit, but she seemed to be out of it and when he asked if the kidnapper did anything to her, she shook her head quickly and said she’s had enough–said how his eyes were glowing red and her body was tied with invincible ropes.”

You move to sit next to him, your hand rubbing his back comfortingly as you tell him to breathe because he seems so distraught it’s making you feel bad. Chan must’ve not expected this when he joined the force, and while you believe Junmyeon’s judgement and your judgement, you know he’s still easily shaken when things like this happen. His heart and sense of justice are in the right place, but it’s never easy to accept that he can’t really do anything but supply your pack support.

Wonwoo notices the slight glow on your palm, going up and down the younger guy’s back, and he can only guess you’re using your charm to make Chan relax; the guy does need it. He can see his tense shoulders easing a little, and the younger guy automatically leans to you as if to seek more comfort.

You seem tense too, have been since Jihoon brought up that it might be an incubus you’re going against. It’s a pretty obvious suggestion, if he’s being honest, though he knows that an incubus wouldn’t be that obvious unless it’s some sick power display.

As far as he knows, incubus prefers busy, metropolitan cities because there are many more unsuspecting females looking for fun. It takes longer for people to notice when someone goes missing, and they can leave the body just about anywhere when they’re done and no one would find it weird.

This town is fairly small, let alone five–having two people missing with so little time in between would quickly raise suspicions.

So why this town?

“Any more info Seungkwan got from the interview?” you coax softly, and by the way the rest of the pack simply stays silent and watches, Wonwoo guesses this has always been your role: to make people talk.

He doesn’t realize his eyes won’t leave the way your fingers are enclosed against Chan’s bicep in comfort.

“Not yet,” he sighs. “Seungkwan will get another chance to question her again tomorrow. I will inform you if we get something.”

So the pack concludes the meeting after talking a little more with Chan.

Because what else can you do?

But it’s midnight when Wonwoo finds you on the porch by yourself, your eyes a little lost and your fingers drawing patterns into your arm. By the looks of it, you either don’t notice he’s there or you’re just not acknowledging his presence (do you have werewolves hearing?). But when he clears his throat to let himself known, Wonwoo hears your heartbeat jumping for a second before it calms again at the sight of him.

It’s even calmer than the erratic heartbeat you had before.

He wonders why there’s something warm in his chest knowing his presence calms you down.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask, your arms securing the blanket around yourself further to ward off the cold.

He actually went down for water, and it’s pretty chilly outside and his pajamas aren’t doing much to warm him, yet Wonwoo finds himself saying yes and sitting down next to you on the small couch barely enough for two adults.

He’s undeniably conscious of the way your thigh presses against his.

“Can I tell you something?” you ask out of nowhere.

Despite the fact that you’ve only known him for a bit and you really only talk to him from time to time, there’s something about Wonwoo that has always comforted you.

You think it’s his solace.

Maybe it’s because you know Wonwoo knows how it feels to be alone, something that you’ve always had a problem with. Wonwoo is not lonely, that much you can tell, he’s simply content in being by himself. But you… as much as you know the pack loves you and they’d do anything for you, there’s always a part of you that feels like you don’t belong.

You’ve always envied Jisoo for being able to find her place in the pack despite being human, and you know, for her, this is the place that she belongs to. After going through a family that doesn’t value her worth, this pack is everything she could ever ask for.

But your blood makes you even more of an alien at times.

Wonwoo hums, and you take a deep breath before you let it out to him. You’re not even sure why you feel like talking about this to him; maybe he’s just in the right place when you need someone to be, maybe you’ve been bothered for far too long and he happens to be there.

Maybe you just want to talk to him.

“I’m… an outlier,” you admit with a heavy heart, and it’s the first time Wonwoo has ever felt the urge to reach for someone’s hand to comfort them. “I never found out why. But I have wolf blood without any power a werewolf is supposed to have except for the hearing. And mine isn’t even that sensitive.”

His eyes drop to your fingers, they’re gripping the material of your blanket so hard he’s sure they’d leave a mark. “My parents… their pack wouldn’t accept me. My dad kept on stalling, told them my power had just not awakened yet. They could only wait so much, eight years was already pushing it, but I was old enough to understand I wasn’t wanted–so I told my parents I’d like to live with my aunt. She’s a druid, so they’d know I’d be in good hands even though they’re reluctant to let me leave.”

Wonwoo stays silent, not because he doesn’t know what to ask but because he knows you have more to say.

“So I did. My aunt welcomed me with open arms, I helped her practice magic and I’d learned runes and everything she did for as long as she let me. She taught me about them just for fun because she knew they fascinated me. But when I turned 14, my magic awakened so she started teaching me properly.”

There’s a wistful smile on your face, and Wonwoo’s suddenly aware that you’re in a house full of werewolves. Are they awake? Can they all hear you? What will they think of you telling him this? He distinctly remembers you saying something about soundproof charms in each bedroom and a few other rooms, because constantly hearing each other really can’t be good for any of your sanity.

“I was happy, knowing that I have magic and I can do something about it. It’s not easy to be surrounded by werewolves for years and treated like you don’t belong, you know? I heard what they said, but my parents could only do so much. I longed so much for my wolf power, and even though what I got wasn’t that, I was more than happy to accept whatever I was given. I found happiness in my magic–that’s more than enough.”

You exhale a deep breath, the look in your face almost makes Wonwoo reach out and ask if you’re okay. But he feels like you’re in a trance, and he’s afraid he’d break the spell if he calls your name.

It pains him though, to know someone as gentle as you had to go through all that. Yes, he did wonder about your wolf blood, but he never thought you’re less than him even if what he assumed was true.

He’s been here for about three months, and he can’t count the amount of time he’s seen you comfort just about anyone who needs it. From Seungcheol who wouldn’t lean on anyone unless he’s about to burst, Jisoo who basically only confides you other than Jeonghan, or Minghao who would just lay his head on your lap if it’s been a long day… it’s clear to him that you’re the one that glues them together on top of their loyalty to Seungcheol and the pack.

You’re their emotional support.

And from what he gathers of your words, there’s a part of you that still feels like you don’t have a place here and he can’t even begin to think how that’s possible.

He looks up when he hears you sniffle, your eyes glossy with tears though you try your best to blink them back. “I was 19 when my aunt passed. Got taken away by an incubus and laid her life down trying to save me.”

Wonwoo actually reaches out now, his fingers finding your shoulder in hope it’ll comfort you somehow. You can feel his warmth even against the material of your blanket, and you take in a deep breath before you continue as you bask in the small form of comfort.

“I… Jeonghan found me when I was trying to run away. I was barely even conscious, having witnessed my aunt who practically raised me accepting her death,” you choke as you reach this part, and Wonwoo can’t help but scoot closer and pull you into his hold. He’s never really been one to comfort others, but what was he supposed to do when it’s just you and him and you’re being like that? Stay still?

“I fainted almost immediately,” you look down on your lap, trying your best to stay calm. You have no idea if the rapid heartbeat that’s beating against your ears is yours or his, but you really couldn’t care less because the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his arm around you. “When I came to, I was in the pack’s house and Minghao was tending me. They said they already took care of the incubus and… yeah, that’s how I ended up here.”

Silence envelopes you both for a few moments, and it’s when you feel his fingers grip your arm a little tighter that you ready yourself for whatever he’s about to say.

You’d never expect what he says next though, and you’re already crying into his chest before you even realize.

“I’m glad you’re you.”

Wonwoo hisses harshly as you tend yet another wound, another attack of some lost, angry spirit that’s thankfully not too out of control.

You hold back a chuckle with twinkles in your eyes as he glares at you, telling you with his eyes that he knows you’re purposefully putting more pressure into the wound.

Seungcheol smiles softly at the exchange, and he looks up to meet Jeonghan’s knowing eyes.

It’s hard to define your relationship with Wonwoo after that. Evidently, you spend even more time together, and it almost feels like his presence alone is enough to calm you down when you’re not in your best state even though it’s only been a week or so since then.

Wonwoo would linger longer as you practice, as if trying to make sure you won’t break down crying again. And he’ll hover closer now, less reluctant about being near you to the point where it’s often for you to bump into him when you move even a little.

It’s a weird dynamic; as you both mostly talk when everyone else is not there. You’re not complaining though, and you’re thankful that despite the knowing looks the pack is giving you both, no one is saying anything about it.

You’re sure Wonwoo also notices them, but he, too, stays silent and continues his way of being around you.

Which brings you here, almost a month after that night, with Chan once again bringing bad news because, apparently, another female has gone missing since almost a week ago but is only reported to the office this morning.

“But,” he exhales deeply. “We got the missing hour because there’s a truck nearby when it happened and we got access to its dash cam.”

Everyone perks up at the news, but Wonwoo feels you tense beside him, most likely finding the thought of seeing an incubus repulsing even if you know it needs to be done. Your heartbeat jumps a little, and Wonwoo doesn’t miss a second to plant his palm on your back. You shoot him a grateful look, your heartbeat still erratic though you’ve relaxed a little, your body melting into his touch in the subtlest way possible.

Wonwoo can’t explain the tingles across his skin as you do so.

You shiver as the video plays, and you see what appears to be a man walking out of the convenience store with a woman in his arm. The woman is walking, perhaps even voluntarily if you judge from the video, but it’s easy to say her consciousness has probably been put to sleep.

He only appears for about a minute before eventually getting out of the camera’s angle. The guys watch a few times more, trying to see anything more, but you move away after the third time, sure that you’re not finding anything but an old scar opening the more you watch.

The concerned look Wonwoo throws your way makes you feel a bit better, but you can only offer him a weak smile before you settle back on your seat and get lost in your thoughts. Jisoo sits on your other side, her fingers linked with yours because everyone knows your stand on incubuses.

There have been a couple other encounters since that traumatic episode that led to you joining the pack, and while you managed to defeat the monster, you’re also incredibly shaken both times it happened. It was quite the trial to get you back to normal, the pain you’re feeling was so overwhelming that the pack could feel the torment off you.

“Is there a pattern?” Jihoon asks the million dollar question.

Unexpectedly, Chan nods his head yes.

“I don’t understand why a… uh, mythical creature would go by a code, but this guy seems to only strike a woman in her 20s, and they’re always last seen with a jacket. And, well, now we’re assuming the taken time is somewhere at 2 in the morning. We tried asking the cashiers who were on shift for the last two months, even showed them the video and asked to see their CCTV but, apparently, his face.. Uhh.. everyone describes him differently. The cashiers and the cleaners who were on shifts say the few regulars who come at those hours were usually university students, a woman in her late thirties, and two guys who usually come together. We’ve identified and talked to everyone but a few university students and some of them say they did notice a weird guy looming around sometimes but he’s always had his face covered by a shawl or mask. And, well, they say they never see him twice.”

“Some of them… can appear differently to everyone,” you say softly, fingers squeezing Jisoo’s without realizing. “This incubus must be a strong one–one that knows what he’s doing and he’s not just looking for fun. Presumably, he’s strong enough to infatuate people and make them see an image of what they consider… desirable.”

Everyone’s silent, their minds running on a thousand scenarios of what to do with the newfound information.

“And if I may remind you, these… things are demons, we can’t understand them. Maybe they do this just for fun, simply to make us confused. This is different with the incubuses we’ve encountered,” you continue, almost like a robot as the words come out of your mouth and your face remains blank. “We need to prepare more and think through this carefully before we do anything. There’s a chance he’s the one that’s been calling for the creatures the past few months.”

Seungcheol looks at you, the alpha in him almost angry at how small you seem to be right now. It’s in his nature to be protective, but he’s always been more protective of you because he knows how important your existence means to his pack, how the pack instinctively chooses to depend on you when he’s not available.

“It’s late,” he announces, even though everyone knows it’s only somewhere between 8 and 9 in the evening. It’s nowhere near late, but they have enough sense–even Chan–to know why Seungcheol deems the meeting enough. “We’ll discuss more later. Thanks, Chan.”

Everyone goes despite their worry, knowing you prefer to be alone with your thoughts and it’s not yet time for them to voice their concern. It’s Seungcheol, Jisoo and Wonwoo who stay, the alpha and the two people who are sitting beside you to begin with. Seungcheol eventually leaves too after his wolf calms down, sure that it’s okay to leave you alone. He drops a kiss on top of your head before squeezing Wonwoo’s shoulder as if to tell him to take care of you in his place and returns to his room.

“Moon?” Jisoo whispers gently, her thumb caressing the back of your hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You don’t say anything, but you shake your head and that’s enough for her because at least you’re answering. She’s witnessed how you had to deal with this before and it’s really not something Jisoo wants to relive again. And if she’s feeling that way, she can only imagine what goes inside your mind.

“Do you want me to leave?” she offers, sharing a concerned look with Wonwoo when you stay silent. Pressing her lips together, Jisoo translates your silence as a ‘yes’ and she whispers comfort to your ears before letting go and taking her leave.

Wonwoo moves to stand up too, figuring you wouldn’t want his presence if you don’t want Jisoo’s. But your fingers move to grasp the end of his shirt, your eyes asking him to stay. So he does–eyes meeting Jisoo’s for a split second as she sends him a gentle smile.

He sits back down next to you, your fingers now gathered on your lap as you look down on them. You’re not sure why you did that. Why did you even reach for him? Did you expect him to comfort you?

“Hey,” he nudges you a little. “You don’t need to bear it by yourself, you know?”

Your tears well up at his words, and Wonwoo quickly takes your hand in his and pulls you to his room before anyone hears you’re crying. They’re worried enough already.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“Ssh,” he cuts you off and pulls you into his embrace. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

You take a sharp breath at that, burying yourself further into his collarbone as you steady your breathing because you don’t want to cry over this anymore. Wonwoo’s scent engulfs you and, after so long that you don’t even remember when was the last time it happened, your wolf feels content and you almost purr at the way his arms cage you in like he’s always known that calms you down.

“Don’t feel like crying?” he asks after a while, his finger caressing your arm as you stay in his embrace. You shake your head, and he can feel your hold getting tighter around his waist. “You want to talk?”

Your fingers grip his shirt a little before you eventually nod. A thought passed by your head for a moment; wondering if you didn’t want to talk earlier because you were out in the open, or if you simply wanted to talk to Wonwoo and no one else.

Whatever it is, Wonwoo pulls you to his bed; thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder. You’re pressed against each other for no reason at all. You’re not complaining though, and you can even feel your wolf whine when Wonwoo steps away for a bit to rearrange something on his bedside table for three seconds.

“I’m tired…” you start, fingers digging into your palm. “I’m tired of being afraid everytime we encounter this thing.”

Wonwoo lets you speak, figuring that you’d been wanting to say this for quite some time but unsure where to unload.

“I know no one’s asking me to be okay. They’d probably ask me to stay in if that’s what’s best for me. And even though it’s not often that we see an incubus, I’m tired of freezing up at the mention of it, Won. And this one is most likely more dangerous than the ones we’ve fought before and I can’t freak out because Jisoo will be terrified and we need to protect her. But it’s not something that I can control and I’ve been telling myself that–”

You freeze when another pair of lips slots against yours, closing your eyes after a second and you melt when Wonwoo softly grasps your cheeks with his palms to deepen the kiss. Nothing else is happening though; it’s not rushed and it’s just your lips against his over and over again, your hands lay on top of his as he cups your face.

He pulls away when he feels you relax, hazy eyes finding each other before his eyes drop to your lips and he presses his lips once again for a short, chaste kiss.

“Sorry… my wolf…”

You chuckle and shake your head a little, cheeks a little warm at the way he’s still grasping your face and the way his eyes are piercing you. “Mine too. It’s fine.”

Wonwoo smiles; this is something you both would need to address, but now is not the time and he really kissed you because you seemed to panic and he wanted to stop you for a bit.

And, well, his wolf has been craving for you, which brings you both to the current situation.

“Take a breath, okay?” he whispers, squaring up his shoulders and pulling away a little even though his palms stay firm where they’re at. He asks you to breathe with him, and when he’s sure you’ve calmed down enough, he asks if you still want to talk about it.

You bite your lip at the question and, in the end, you can only repeat what you’ve told him. “I just… I’m afraid, Won. What if I’m not strong enough to fight him? To protect Jisoo? To help you guys?”

“You’re not doing this alone, Moon,” he reminds you; his deep voice is everything you need to calm your heartbeat. “I know I haven’t been here for long and you probably know this better, but… we’re a pack for a reason. We’ll find a way together and we’ll think this through together. I’ll protect you, okay?”

The next two weeks, the pack is busy training and discussing strategies. You’re mostly in your room, preparing all sorts of runes that might be necessary. But, most importantly, you’re making as many protective runes as you can to make sure Jisoo would stay safe. She’d be staying at the house pack, like she always does when you’re all going out for an attack.

You’re usually okay with leaving her alone, confident that your protection is strong enough. But knowing an incubus is behind all this, you can’t help but feel like you need to put an extra layer of protection in any kind of form.

“The wards are set on all perimeters,” Wonwoo informs you as he steps into the room. He was just out with Jihoon to check on the wards around the town, making sure they’re all still intact. You’ve made sure to strengthen them too, because even though the incubus is presumably already in town, you need to make sure he’s not summoning other creatures again. “You put on wards every 3 meters around the house until it reaches the main road?”

You hum, murmuring a short thanks when he places an iced coffee on your table. “Gotta make sure Jisoo is safe. I’ve prepared preactivated runes too for her defense just in case.”

“Oh, the ones that blow up when they’re destroyed?”

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’, and then stop what you’re doing when you remember something. “Oh, right. I meant to give this to you.”

Wonwoo looks up as you rummage through your small wooden box, pulling out a single ring with small stones adorning one side.

“It took me quite some time to find a moonstone, which is why I only managed to finish this now, but here’s your ring.”

He cocks his eyebrow when you put it on his palm, and you tilt your head to the side, not getting what he’s on about.

“Proposing to me already?”

“Wonwoo!”

He laughs when you try to pinch his side, wincing a little at the sting though he’s just glad you seem to finally relax even if only for a few seconds.

“Thanks,” he grins, putting it on his middle finger. “I was kidding about the moonstone, you know? You can just use anything and I would’ve taken it anyway.”

You shrug, telling him you need to keep it in stock anyway. You crack your neck to the side, and Wonwoo frowns at how stiff your body seems to be. He tells you to sit down on the sofa and take a short break, taking your iced coffee with him before you can protest. Just in time, Jisoo walks in with Minghao, bringing tartlets with her.

“Oh, you managed to sit her down.” Jisoo nods appreciatively, setting down the tartlets on the coffee table as she sits next to you and Minghao settles on the floor instead, his figure near your legs. “She’s been standing for too long and she wouldn’t answer when I call for her.”

“She probably tunes you out,” Minghao happily supplies, taking one of the treats and offering you a bite after he does. You happily munch on the dessert, almost choking when Minghao flips another topic. “Anyway, what was that earlier about proposal?”

Wonwoo bursts out laughing as Jisoo tries to grasp the conversation, already used to this kinda situation though it still frustrates her at times. She catches the new accessory on his finger though, and Jisoo immediately grasps his hand and shows Minghao the ring as they all continue to tease you about it.

It’s been like this since a few days ago. The pack has been teasing you both when they figure you’re comfortable enough for that. They’ve caught you with Wonwoo a lot since that day, and they kept quiet because you still looked stressed, simply grateful that Wonwoo seems to be able to comfort you more than any of them could ever do.

They know.

They know.

And they didn’t say anything, still.

But it’s a few days ago when everyone was huddled together in the living room for a movie night. Seungcheol said everyone deserves a break after the amount of training and decided that the pack should just chill together for the night.

You’re particularly tired that day, because you spent the day sparring with Jihoon to make sure you’re not rusty. It went well, but it had been quite some time since you physically trained yourself so it felt like your energy was just drained the moment you stepped into the house.

Everyone was already in the living room when the two of you arrived (minus Jisoo and Wonwoo who were preparing food in the kitchen), and after Minghao informed you it’s movie night, you quickly washed up so you could join them immediately because you’ve missed chilling and being surrounded by these puppies without talking about attacks.

Your body was moving on autopilot once you finished washing up and returned to the living room, because you’re just so drained and your body naturally seek for comfort. Before you even realized, you’re already plopping yourself into Wonwoo’s lap and your head was nestled on his neck.

Wonwoo was so startled that his arms stayed frozen, hovering over your waist and didn’t curl around your figure like they usually would when it’s just the two of you. It took you a full 5 seconds to realize why the room was strangely quiet out of nowhere, and it was already too late for you to deny anything so you just shyly hid yourself deeper into his neck and succumbed to his warmth when he finally wrapped his arms around you.

“Anyway, it will shine when any of us is in danger. My magic will tell you who’s in danger as long as you have it on.” you tell him as he inspects his ring. “And it’ll get warmer the closer you are to them so it’ll help even if it’s not much. Jisoo’s is more sensitive than ours, so what’s considered dangerous for her and for us might be different.”

“So it’s not a proposal?” Minghao asks just to be annoying.

“Okay, let’s stop about the proposal,” Seungcheol announces his presence as he leans on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “My Moon is still a child and I will not allow it.”

Jisoo snickers while you laugh at that, knowing full well that Seungcheol will probably let you marry Wonwoo this instant if that’s what you want. He’s your alpha, you’re sure he knows what’s happening between you and Wonwoo before you two even realize yourself.

Which is a weird thought, because you haven’t talked about whatever it is between the two of you. You both decide to focus on the problem at hand, figuring out your relationship could wait.

But it’s clear. And it’s so obvious that your wolf craves for him. Its existence has never been this prominent until Wonwoo.

Anyway, you’re pretty sure Wonwoo can feel the pull too, and you two are just doing a very good job not entertaining the thought because, else, you would’ve jumped at him every single time you’re left alone with the guy.

“Chan’s coming in a bit. Come to the living room after you’re done with your desserts, alright?” He steps in to ruffle your hair and leaves just like that, not waiting for an answer.

You nod at that, taking a deep breath at the thought of discussing it yet again. Wonwoo catches your eyes, giving you an encouraging smile as Jisoo feeds you some more and Minghao hugs your legs before he leans his head on your knee.

You almost cry at how loved you feel right now.

“I’ll be bait,” you say as calmly as you can despite the erratic way your heart is beating.

“No!” you’re not even sure who says it, probably everyone–bewildered that you would volunteer to do that.

“There’s no other choice and you guys know it.” Your tone is determined even though they know you’re scared, and they know there’s little they can do when your mind is made. You’re probably more stubborn than their alpha at that point. “He only goes for a woman. We can’t afford to use Jisoo. Do you have any other alternatives than to bait him?”

Everyone shuts up at that, knowing that you’re right. They want to believe there’s another choice, but if the incubus is as strong as you assume it to be, as you paint it to be… 

“Anyway, that’s not the important bit,” you pretend to brush it off to change the topic, not wanting the guys to worry too much even though their concern isn’t groundless. “What’s important is what we are going to do after that.”

Everyone’s still wary, and you can feel Wonwoo’s burning gaze on the side of your face though you refuse to acknowledge it. You know he most likely doesn’t agree with your decision–what with the… uhh… relationship between the two of you, he does have the right to be skeptical of your decision. After all, you would be too if this was the other way around.

You’ll talk to him after this.

It’s not that hard to distract everyone with the new topic, because you do need a proper strategy and this one is like never before. After an hour or so, you’re not really listening to them, because you’re busy reading through the old book of your aunt’s to find out more about incubi.

You can’t quite describe the rush that goes through your body as you do so, and while your fear is still there, there’s a new kind of determination that flows through you at the thought of defeating an incubus that’s been wreaking havoc in your little town. Perhaps, the thought crosses your mind, this could be your chance of finally making peace with your past.

The few incubi that you’ve encountered were weak enough to be defeated without you having to use any exceptional magic–some defensive and fire runes and they’re done for. But this one? You’ve been practicing your magic, exerting yourself to summon fire and control your surroundings even though that’s not your expertise.

Wonwoo, Seungcheol, and Jisoo have been taking turns in scolding you, because they can tell you’re getting more and more drained the more you practice. On one hand, they understand where you’re coming from, why you’ve been doing it–but on another, it’s obvious that you’re getting paler by the day and they don’t see what good it would do if you’re not even going to be in your prime condition later on.

It’s midnight when Wonwoo finds you perched on the balcony, and the scene looks awfully familiar to him as he remembers that time he found you alone–the night when it all began.

“Moon?”

You hum to acknowledge him, though you don’t turn and you hear him closing the door before you ask, “Can’t sleep?”

Wonwoo chuckles at the question, the exact same one you asked him those nights ago.

“Was looking for you.” He’s glad he can say it out loud now, no longer having to be careful with his affections towards you.

“Miss me already?” you joke, reminding him it was just an hour ago you were together in the living room before everyone left for bed. Unexpectedly, Wonwoo hums an affirmation, his deep voice whispers a low ‘yes’ before his arms cage you from behind, his chest meeting your back.

Wonwoo’s more affectionate since that day, not that you’re complaining, and even though he still lays low with the PDA, it is true that he’s been more touchy for some reason. You think it’s his wolf, because, like right now, it’s become his favorite thing to just bury his nose to the crook of your neck like a puppy. It tickles, but you welcome the sensation of his warm breath against your skin so you don’t intend to say anything about it.

“Want to share your mind?” he asks after placing a soft kiss on your neck, his chin on your shoulder. The position must’ve been uncomfortable–what, with his height and all–but he doesn’t seem to mind and you don’t have any reason to refuse his touch.

“You know.”

And he does. He actually does. And it stirs something within him to know there’s little to nothing he can do to help you feel better. His arms move to hold you by the waist instead, and it’s crazy how serene he’s feeling despite the rowdy rhythm his heart is beating into when you snuggle further into his embrace, your thumb caressing his arm.

He knows you don’t need words right now, knows that nothing that comes out of his mouth would comfort you in any way–he’s said all that he could say too, and if he were to say those again, it would just be repetitions and he imagines he wouldn’t like those if it was him in your position.

So he doesn’t say anything and you don’t either. But you slightly pull from him just so you can turn around and take your turn to bury your nose against his neck. You’re not sure how long the two of you spend just standing like that–simply reveling in the way that you’re against each other under the moonlight, his arms around you and his (now) steady heartbeat beating against your ear.

And for the first time in two weeks, you can finally relax and stop thinking about whatever kind of doom that awaits your pack.

[𓇬𓇬𓇬]

The attack will take place in three days. The pack (and Chan) has agreed that would be the perfect time because it’s going to be a full moon and their wolves are always stronger during a full moon–even yours. You always feel the most like a werewolf during those times, something that your parents know, also the reason why they’ve taken to calling you ‘Moon’.

That said, it’d be the safest time for you to be bait because your wolf would be stronger on top of your magic. They’re still unhappy with this part of the plain, but have long accepted that they’d never win against your made mind.

Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo are currently out on patrol while everyone else is at the pack house. Jihoon is probably sleeping while you, Jisoo, and Minghao are in the living room talking about magic. Minghao has a little magic within him, not strong enough to use it for fights though it helps to make them trip or get confused from time to time. And Jisoo, well, she finds it fascinating, still.

You’re telling Minghao about runes when Jeonghan barges into the living room, breath heavy and chest heaving hardly like he’s run a marathon, his hurried voice calling your real name and you know it couldn’t be good. Did something happen during the patrol?

Seungcheol is right behind him, and he’s looking at you with something akin to guilt that he immediately drops to his knees and buries his face into your middle. His arms are holding you a little too tight that it slightly hurts, but it’s the look in Jeonghan’s face that gets your heart rate spiking beyond control and goosebumps on your skin.

“They got Wonwoo.” The room immediately goes silent at that, and what he says next barely even registers to you as you look at him wide-eyed, your heart immediately dropping to your stomach and you stay frozen where you’re at. “We–we got ambushed and… and they took him. I’m sorry, Moon.”

Jisoo is quick to take your hand, and you’re so shaken that your mouth keeps on opening and closing without anything coming out of it.

Seungcheol whimpers as his arms tighten even more around you, and you can’t tell if he’s upset or agitated. Probably both; he’s an alpha whose beta has just been taken, presumably right under his nose too. He keeps on whispering something that sounds like apologies.

“We tried to go for him but they masked their smell and we got tricked and–”

“Did they leave anything?”

The older man flinches at your curt tone, though he’s still more worried than he is scared. He nods nevertheless, and he hands you a black feather that you inspect with blank eyes though your minds are already running with a thousand scenarios of how to get Wonwoo back safe and sound.

“This…” you close your eyes in contempt as you finally recognize the feather. “Were you… was there a harpy when you were attacked?”

You release a frustrated sigh when Jeonghan nods. “They’re baiting us. They want us to find them. Harpies’ feathers don’t fall off. They don’t shed, they leave it on purpose so we can track them.”

It’s almost like something switched within Seungcheol at the revelation, and his emotion is so prominent that everyone except Jisoo slightly cowers at his alpha mode, your wolves submitting to him. Jihoon even turns up, his wolf recognizing the distress of his alpha and the whole pack that he woke up not long after Jeonghan and Seungcheol arrived.

“So they want us to attack?” Seungcheol practically growls as he stands up tall, his fingers balled into fists. “Call Chan and tell him there’s a change of plan. If he doesn’t answer in five minutes, we’re doing this without him.”

Chan picks up on the first ring and arrives ten minutes later.

The strategy, to put it simply, doesn’t really exist. The whole bait thing is obviously off the table and now that you know for sure where they’re at, you just need to pick the right time to go and how you’re going to infiltrate them.

If what you assume is true, they must’ve been waiting for you to arrive, too. Are they expecting an attack? Do they want to taunt you? This doesn’t make sense to you.

But, then again, your mind is all over the place because the only thing you can focus on is that they’ve got your Wonwoo and who knows what they’re doing to him now, what they will be doing to him if you don’t come as soon as they wish you to be. They wouldn’t be kind enough to wait for the full moon, knowing you guys are a pack of werewolves.

“As far as I know, there’s an abandoned lab there,” Chan supplies helpfully after you’ve successfully pinpointed their location. “It belonged to an old hospital that’s acquired by a new management, and the new owner couldn’t be bothered to take care of the lab because that building actually belonged to another owner and not the one they bought the hospital from? Anyway, that’s why that building is abandoned and, uh, no one really bothered to do anything about it.”

“Do you have the layout?”

“No,” Chan shakes his head. “But I know it’s just a two-level building with a lot of rooms. Storages, you know? I reckon the layout itself shouldn’t be too complicated. What might be a problem is that… it’s long and big. Imagine a small hospital. Or maybe school? It’s of that size.”

“Okay,” you exhale a deep breath. “So we split. Seungcheol with Jihoon, and Jeonghan with Minghao.”

“And you?” Seungcheol’s so repulsed by the thought of you going in alone that his eyes glowed golden for a bit. You plant your palm on his arm in hope it will calm him down, and it does, at least enough for his eyes to turn back into its hazel shade and you tell him you don’t mind going in with either group.

“Chan, you stay at the pack house with Jisoo. Protect her and be mindful of our signal just in case we’d need police backup, Jisoo would know and she will tell you.” You instruct him carefully, and then proceed to run over the preactivated runes with Jisoo once again. You’ve even given Chan some too just in case, and you have him practice with you while the others get ready. You don’t want to risk anything happening to Wonwoo, so you’ve all unanimously decided that you must go tonight.

You zone out helplessly as you play with your necklace, a glimpse of hope running past you because it hasn’t reacted at all–which means Wonwoo is safe. He’s not put in any immediate danger for your charms to react.

A strong hand finds your shoulder, making you jump a little and taking you out of your trace. “We’ll save him. Wonwoo will be fine.”

Seungcheol sees a speck of gold glistening through your eyes for a millisecond, something that he has never seen in you.

“He has to be.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it’s firm and it sounds like a promise. He almost flinches at your next words, and he knows if it comes to it, there’s nothing he can do to stop you. “I’ll destroy them if he’s not.”

[𓇬𓇬𓇬]

Unfortunately, Chan is wrong.

The house is way more complicated than he makes it to be and you’re pretty sure Jeonghan and Minghao are fighting against something by the faint sound of growls and things falling to the ground from the other side of the building.

At least the place isn’t as guarded as you prepared yourselves for. Either the incubus is too arrogant for his own good, or you haven’t encountered his subordinates yet. You’ve expected each room to be guarded, but safe for the hellhounds that were guarding the front gate and whatever creatures Minghao and Jeonghan are fighting against; there’s nothing else yet.

But, then again, you shouldn’t be jinxing yourself because, next thing you know, a harpy and what you assume to be a ghoul are attacking the three of you. The ghoul throws you to the wall hard enough that there’s a little crack when you slide down the wall, Seungcheol turns to where you’re at and growl. You groan from the sudden pain, but you attack back immediately after you stand back on your feet, whispering spells as you throw your runes at them.

That’s enough seconds for Seungcheol and Jihoon to take control of the situation.

You activate your other runes while you’re at it, making sure the two monsters wouldn’t be able to leave the room. You’re about to draw a magic circle when you feel your pendant warming up, and by the bewildered look Seungcheol and Jihoon send your way, you know they’re both aware why it’s warming up.

Wonwoo.

“Go!” Seungcheol screams, pouncing on the ghoul as Jihoon takes care of the harpy. “Find him! We’ll catch up with you.”

You nod with determination and then set up a few other runes before you run out of the room. Wonwoo’s near enough for your bracelet to react, and you run to wherever your feet are taking you, only to freeze on the spot when you see Wonwoo being chained down like he’s some kind of criminal deserving such confinement.

He looks up at you, and you almost cry at how weak he looks despite the clean state of his face–no blood whatsoever. If you’re not too blinded by your worry and the overwhelming feelings of seeing Wonwoo again even if it has only been hours, you’d realize how easy things seem to be. Spending hours thinking about what these things might be doing to Wonwoo feels like years, you admit no matter how dramatic that sounds.

Your worry mixed with fear does not make a good recipe even for only a few hours.

You kneel in front of him, gentle hands cradling his cheeks as you examine his worn out face. There’s not a single scratch on his face, but he might as well look like his soul is sucked out of his body little by little and his eyes are a little empty that tears prick your eyes.

“What did they do to you?” you whisper weakly. Wonwoo doesn’t even have the energy to answer you, though his eyes find yours and he sends you a defeated smile. He coughs at the effort to do that, and that’s when you snap out of it and immediately try to rid him of the chains on his wrists.

“Uh, don’t think it’s a good idea,” an eerie voice greets you, which makes you take a protective stance in front of Wonwoo. You gulp as you take the man in front of you, and if the aura he’s emitting alone isn’t already telling you that he’s the incubus, the horns protruding between his hair certainly did the job. “You see, if you try to force open that chain, that… uh, necklace he has on will thrust silver into his neck and, well, we don’t want that, right?”

The creature has it in him to grin at the pure rage in your eyes when you glare at him, only then realizing they’ve put on a collar on Wonwoo that’s apparently lethal for his being.

“What do you want?”

“In a hurry, are we?” he whistles as he glances at Wonwoo staggering behind you. “I think your furry mate isn't in any condition to go anywhere though?”

You try your best to calm down, because he’d want you unfocused and all over the place. Whatever it is that he wants from your pack, it must have something to do with you if it’s Wonwoo he’s taken.

“What do you want.” You press, not wanting to spend any more second in his presence if you can help it. If not for you then definitely for Wonwoo. If the collar is actually infused with silver as he claims it to be, it’s no wonder Wonwoo is rendered this way. The matter is lethal to werewolves and your neck is tightening at the thought of it; you can only imagine how Wonwoo is feeling.

You’ve never liked dealing with creatures with human natures; they’re too cocky for their own good and it’s getting under your skin. Monsters, you can easily deal with–defeat them and that’s it. But creatures like incubuses, shapeshifters, demons, and so on have human natures and they enjoy instilling fear–enjoy that they’re making the other party scared shitless. They taunt and taunt and taunt until you’re no longer sure which one’s a bluff and which one’s an actual threat.

It’s not enough that you’re scared. They want you confused and they want to play with your minds.

“Okay, because you’ve so politely asked.”

You truly don’t know how he managed to hold you against him within seconds, his scent engulfing you and you almost whimper in fear at the way he noses your hair. And for the first time since you’ve arrived, you see Wonwoo snap his neck up and he practically growls with every strength he still has in him.

“Sol.” He calls for someone, and a wraith appears immediately, bowing his head so low in front of the incubus he almost folds himself in half. “Release the dog.”

Sol treats him so roughly that you step forward to intervene, enraged by the way they address him, but the incubus holds you in place from behind, the hands on your shoulders bringing shivers down your spine, and whispers closely against your ear, his voice firm and brings chills throughout your body.

“Behave, doll. You know what we can do to him,” he reminds you, his teeth grazing your ear that you shiver at the touch. You’d probably be crumbling with fear if not for Wonwoo–your worry for him overrides your traumatic experience with incubi. You want Wonwoo safe, whether you are also safe or not is not important.

What’s important is you don’t want Wonwoo anywhere near this thing and you’re going to make it happen no matter what.

Wonwoo slumps forward the moment he’s released from the chain and the collar, and he coughs so violently like he’s drawing out blood. It doesn’t take him long to get back on his feet though, and even though he’s still weak, there’s an enormous amount of rage within him at the way you’re held against the demon which fuels his body even if his strength was basically nonexistent.

It’s then that he realizes Sol is still holding him, a silver knife against his throat so you both immediately freeze as if breathing would even hurt him.

“Tsk,” the incubus clicks his tongue in annoyance, his fingers descending to your arm and running down your skin. “Ungrateful kids. I released you from your chain and that’s the attitude you’re giving me?”

He grins at the way you go stiff on his hold; a maniac grin so wide that it brings shivers even to Wonwoo who’s a good two meters away.

“Can you guys smell this?” he mocks, his nose nuzzling your neck and Wonwoo tightens his jaw at the sight–agitated and boiling with fury because no one should do that to you; no one should make your eyes sting with fear and your body turn into stone.

He’s worried. But, above all, he’s angry and he feels so fucking useless because he can’t do anything but watch you hopelessly from where he’s at–with a silver knife against his throat that he can feel himself weakening yet again.

What did he say? That he’ll protect you?

What a fucking joke.

“You can’t?” His mocking voice resonates once again, and you can feel his smirk even if you can’t see it yourself. You’re trying your best to focus on Wonwoo instead, and even though your body is still frozen in fear because this incubus is basically pressed against you and you can feel your throat closing up–either from your fear of the proximity or because you can’t stand to see Wonwoo like this, so weak that he’s probably using everything he has to stand on his feet.

Probably both.

“I thought you dogs have such a great sense of smell,” he continues his monologue, still holding you against himself. “But since I’m so kind, I will generously let you know. It’s the smell of dread. Of horror, and, oh, it’s the second most beautiful thing I’d ever encounter. Almost as beautiful as your sexual energy.”

You don’t think it’s possible, but you stiffen even more at his words. These creatures are sexual beings, and you forgot about it because you’re too busy worrying over Wonwoo and your initial fear towards those things have more to do with the death of your aunt than anything. But now that he mentions it–

“And you’re so powerful too,” he hums against your neck, lips grazing your skin and you genuinely feel like throwing up at the contact. You can’t do anything; not when he has his subordinate pressing a silver knife against Wonwoo’s throat, the smallest cut and Wonwoo would probably be paralyzed for God knows how long and the after effect once he wakes up wouldn’t be pretty, too. “You probably knew I took him to bait you, didn’t you? Smart little thing.”

“Get away from her.” Wonwoo growls, his eyes shining bright golden as he does so. Sol presses the blade’s spine deeper to Wonwoo’s neck, unamused with his move.

“Oh, mutt has something to say?” His voice is so sickening, and you hate yourself so much for being immobile under his grasp, unable to do anything but close your eyes when his fingers brush your cheek, his forefinger and thumb stopping on your chin to tilt it up. “Open your eyes, doll. You don’t want to disobey me.”

Your sight is blurry when you do, glassy with tears though it’s still clear to you that Wonwoo is whimpering on the ground, the silver pressed tightly against his neck can easily cut through his skin if Sol tilts the blade even slightly.

They’re doing this to play with you and Wonwoo, and you ask once again what it is that he wants just so Sol would put the knife away from him. What even is Wonwoo suffering for?

“Oh, it’s not obvious?” he slurs his voice, his palm now fully grasping your cheek so you’d turn to him.

Wonwoo tightens his jaw at the scene in front of him, wondering if the guys are still busy outside and if it’s still going to take them long to come here.

He doesn’t want to be rash–can’t be either because the silver pressed against his skin is draining his strength away. He can’t even stand up at this point, and his consciousness is slowly slipping away because the blade keeps on touching his skin. But you look so pale and pretty much petrified that he just wants to do something–anything that would make the aghast look on your face go away.

Wonwoo’s trying his best to stay still as the incubus nuzzles his nose further into your neck, and something is burning in his chest at the way you flinch and hold your breath as he sees the fingers on your arms clutching your tighter.

“Why do you think I’ve been taking those girls? Summoning those creatures?” he drags on. “I’m not interested in humans. Their energy runs out fast and they’re not fun to play with. You… on the other hand.”

You detest the way he's scenting your cheek, his lips grazing the skin there as he grins wider at the way you’re almost shaking from his touch. “Powerful little thing, aren’t you? These mutts wouldn’t last a day without your help fighting those things. I know you already put two and two together; smart girl wants to wait for the full moon to attack, hm?”

You’re thinking of ways to get away from this thing, but anything sort of reckless wouldn’t do good as much as you wish to just use your rune and make a run for it. There’s too much at stake, but most importantly, you can’t risk the wraith actually gashing Wonwoo. What are the members doing outside? How much longer would you have to wait for them? You need at least two of them here, serving as a distraction to buy time so you can use your magic.

“I can’t wait to taste you, doll,” he bares his teeth, and Wonwoo’s fuming even more than he already was, which you didn’t think was possible.

And it’s then that the door bursts open, Seungcheol panting along with Jihoon, Jeonghan, and Minghao right behind him. There’s no time for a grand entrance though, and that split second is enough opening for Seungcheol and Jeonghan to pounce on the incubus behind you, making you fall on your knees from the sudden force.

You can hear the incubus growls from behind, but you look up to see Sol grinning despite Jihoon handling him down, and your eyes widen in horror when you realize why he’s grinning. Minghao’s holding Wonwoo in panic, and you don’t even have it in you to scream, your feet moving on their own because there’s blood slipping down his neck.

You take him away from Minghao, and you hear Wonwoo moans weakly when you quickly use your magic to at least stop the bleeding. Your eyes are red with angry tears; angry that Wonwoo’s hurt for no reason at all, that he has to endure this because the incubus wants you, that humans in this area turn into victims for nothing but entertainment.

It’s Wonwoo’s weak grasp on your wrist that snaps you out of it, and he’s saying something stupid like he’s fine and that you should focus on defeating that thing instead of healing him. You’d argue with him if not for the severity of the situation, and you’re honestly just trying your best to stop his wound from opening up before you get back to attack; Seungcheol and Jeonghan has got the situation for now, you can tell from the way the incubus is struggling against them.

Sol is slumped on the floor, because Jihoon is smart enough to take the silver knife from him and stabs the monster with it because the matter is just as lethal to wraith as it is to werewolf. A group of wraiths enter the room not long after, having been summoned by the incubus and unhappy to see their kin knocked out on the ground.

The incubus grins maniacally when the three werewolves upon him loosen their grip at the commotion. But Seungcheol is stronger than that, and even if he orders the other two to leave the incubus to him as they help Minghao take care of the wraiths, it’s easy to tell Seungcheol is starting to get tired.

They roll on the floor, fighting each other physically, trying to assert dominance over the other and your hands get frantic with Wonwoo on your lap.

“Moon–stop,” Wonwoo whispers weakly. “Seungcheol needs help. I’m good enough for now.”

The wound won’t close and his consciousness is escaping yet again, and you’re about to refuse but a hoard of hellhounds come in and you’ve got no choice but to stop trying to stop his bleeding. It has slowed down at least, and you take comfort in that until Wonwoo actually goes slack on your lap, his neck gushing with blood that you’re sure would leave a scar. His healing ability can’t catch up with the silver and this is already the most you can do in such a tight time.

Despite the rowdy situation in the room, your sob sounds way too clear in everyone’s ears, alerting them all in panic. It’s not sad though; and when they turn to see you, you’re already standing up with tears running down your face. But you don’t try to wipe them, simply let them be as your eyes glow the most golden with a speck of red, the first time Seungcheol has ever feltyour wolf and magic this strong.

Momentarily, everything stops and they’re all staring at you; overwhelmed by the sheer power you’re emitting. Even the hellhounds whimper at this, some of them retreating through the shadows.

Your eyes are locked on the incubus beneath Seungcheol, and it’s pure rage that he registers in your eyes–your aura. He’s sure he’s not imagining the way you seem to almost glow with power, the feeling so immense that his wolf almost wants to submit to you.

For whatever reason, the devil has it in him to smirk, whispering something about how good you’d taste once he has you under him. Seungcheol’s about to attack him for the comment, but he’s suddenly twisting in pain that Seungcheol lets go of him, skin burning hot like he’s boiling inside out.

He’s looking at the scene in front of him in horror, and it’s when he looks at the way you’re snapping your wrist that it’s you doing this. He doesn’t know how you learn to do this, because, as far as he knows, you never did. It’s your rage running over your magic, he concludes, and he sees Wonwoo fainted on the ground and he can’t blame you for reacting this way even if it worries him.

He knows the both of you haven’t addressed it, but it’s clear that your wolves are calling for each other and you’re practically mates even if Wonwoo hasn’t marked you yet. He’d probably go ballistic too if his mate was put on the brink of death for whatever reason.

The incubus is screaming in pain, body twisting in a weird way and it’s seconds after that Seungcheol is one hundred percent positive you’re actually glowing that the whole group of monsters within the room–maybe even building–are starting to run away even though they all failed because you’ve warded the whole building so none of them could get out unscathed.

It gets easier to fight them at this point, but your pack doesn’t need to fight them because, the next thing they know, the wraiths have all dissolved into a puddle of black goos, the hellhounds have all retreated, and the incubus is fighting for his life while you watch him suffer on your feet.

Minghao is the first person to snap out of it, immediately going to Wonwoo and trying to somehow check the older guy. He knows he’s not dead, but he’s getting paler by the seconds and he needs to be treated as soon as possible.

The rest look at each other uneasily, unsure how to handle you going berserk. The incubus deserves this, but with the way you’re going, Seungcheol is mainly afraid you’d lose yourself somehow.

“Moon?” he whispers softly, trying to see if you’ll react.

You don’t, which doesn’t surprise any of them, because you’re probably in a trance and the only thing they can hear is the incubus’ painful scream that’s getting louder by the seconds.

You stare blankly at the devil under you, nothing of remorse within you even though you know you’d never do this to any other being. You don’t even know how you’re doing this, but it doesn’t matter because what matters is what he’s done to Wonwoo and you’re going to make him feel the suffering a hundred times over.

It’s then that the scream suddenly stops, because Wonwoo’s weak voice calling your name echoes through the room, his consciousness slipping back in somehow and you turn to him, your magic calming down at the sound of his voice.

And then there’s a surge of magic resonating throughout the building, strong enough that there’s a gush of wind accompanying it as it goes past all of you.

Next thing you know, your body sways to the side and Jeonghan catches you in his arms.

And then it’s all black.

[𓇬𓇬𓇬]

Your whole body is sore when you come to, and the first thing you notice is that there’s hair near your hand and someone else is caressing your other arm.

It takes quite the effort to even open your eyes, and through your blurry eyes, you register that it’s Jisoo laying on the side of your bed and the girl jumps awake at your soft whimper. The other person in the room is Minghao, and you can’t help but chuckle at how awfully familiar this scenario plays out.

Jisoo cries and hugs you before you can say anything, and you see Minghao sighs in relief before he leaves the room to call for the others. Wonwoo steps in right after Minghao leaves, and you try to sit up with Jisoo in your arms, wincing slightly at how tense your body feels. How long were you out for?

“Good sleep?” Wonwoo muses with a small smile, going to your other side to drop a kiss on top of your head because Jisoo refuses to stop hogging you.

“Like I came back from the dead.” You wince at your strained voice, and Wonwoo tells Jisoo to let you go to give you space before he helps you with a glass of water, the girl simply moving to hug your middle instead, her face buried in your lap. You laugh at her antics, stroking her hair and assuring her you’re fine now.

The whole pack bursts into the room at that moment, and they all engulf you in a hug except for Jihoon who goes to stand beside Wonwoo and watches the scene unfold. Everyone’s been worried though they all know you’ll wake up; and to know that you seem relaxed and even have it in you to smile after the whole ordeal is good enough.

“How are you feeling?” Seungcheol asks, sitting next to you on the bed once everyone except Jisoo lets you go, the girl still stubbornly hugging you even though it must’ve been uncomfortable.

“My whole body’s sore and I’m a little disoriented,” you shrug, honest with your explanation. “How long was I out for?”

“Three days,” your alpha informs you, his hand stroking your hair. “We planned on calling Lisa tomorrow if you still didn’t wake up today.”

“Good call. Lisa would know what to do,” you chuckle hoarsely, making a mental note to hang out with the witch one of these days. “Sorry to make you worried. Did anything… happen?”

The room falls silent at that, even Jisoo’s arms that are holding you tighten at your question. But it’s Wonwoo who speaks up, telling you it’s a long story and that you should eat and wash up before going into that.

“That’s a good idea.” Jihoon nods, and then offers to get the bath ready before telling Minghao and Jisoo to prepare food now that you’re awake. The rest seems to get the message and eventually steps out of the room, leaving you and Wonwoo behind.

“Hi.” You say when he doesn’t say anything. Wonwoo shakes his head and envelopes you in a hug which you accept with all your heart, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt while you bury yourself in his neck. His hug is a little too tight, but you don’t care and you actually welcome it because if there’s anything you need at this second, it’s his arms around you and your bodies against each other.

He whispers something in your ear that you don’t quite register, but you’re crying for some reason and Wonwoo pulls you even closer like it’s possible.

It didn’t register to you at first–what had happened and how you ended up like this. But now that everyone’s left and you don’t have to worry about their wellbeing, the memory of that night returns though there are blank spaces in between.

Still, it is enough to remind you of the way the demon touches you–the way his lips graze your skin and his fingers on your body. You choke at the memory, and Wonwoo seems to get it even though you don’t elaborate; seems to understand why you’re crying and why you’re holding on to him for dear life.

The guys have told him about it; about how you coped before and how it took you quite some time to get over it. And as much as he thought he’s prepared to help you through it, it’s still a blow to his heart to see you like this, his wolf wailing in pain in tandem with yours.

You don’t notice Jihoon by the door, about to tell you the bath is ready but has enough sense to step back when he catches Wonwoo’s eyes.

Wonwoo lets you cry more, and then kisses your forehead once you’ve calmed down, his thumb wiping the tears on your face as his forehead meets yours; his lips centimeters away from your own.

“I know, love. I know,” he whispers as your sobs turn into whimpers. “Let’s get you cleaned up? I’ll come with you.”

In any other scenario, you’d tease him about wanting to see you naked. Maybe flirt a little and then curse at him for making you flustered somehow. But this isn’t your ideal world, and you can do nothing but nod as he takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom.

Wonwoo stays true to his words, and you want to cry at the delicate way he’s treating you. He helps you out of your clothes, and it’s weird that you don’t feel anything as he does so–not the least bit of embarrassment even though he has never seen you naked at all.

He did ask if you want him to move away though, but when you shake your head and say that you don’t mind, he helps you wash up like you’re a kid who doesn’t know how to do it yourself. It’s very intimate in ways that you can’t quite describe, and you let him do everything for you as you simply stay seated in the bathtub.

You hug your knees as Wonwoo moves to wash your back, and it’s quite obvious that his clothes are all wet though he doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t say anything at all, actually, because he knows that you need solace and you want his company though you don’t wish to talk.

“Let’s get out of the tub?” he tells you softly after he’s done with your body. He grasps your hand and wraps you in a big towel, then tells you to sit down on the edge of the tub.

“Look at me?” He stares into your eyes for a few seconds before telling you to close them again so he can wash your face. His touch is gentle–safe, and you can feel your magic hum in content at the way he’s touching you.

It’s probably asking for more.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Wonwoo stills but doesn’t move away, finding his face right in front of yours though you don’t flinch at the proximity. You look into his eyes, wondering what goes inside his mind as he looks at you. Was he thinking about that night, too?

Your eyes wander to scar on the side of his neck, and the picture that your picture conjures of Wonwoo unconscious on the floor is way too real that your eyes water almost immediately. He seems to get what you’re thinking about, and before you can remember it further, Wonwoo cups your face and forces your eyes to meet his instead.

“Hey, I’m fine,” his voice echoes in the bathroom. “I’m here and I’m safe. All thanks to you.”

That doesn’t work like it’s supposed to, because you cry even more at his words for some reason and Wonwoo tries not to panic when your cry gets louder.

“I’m sorry,” you break into a sob, hugging the towel further into yourself. Wonwoo gently grabs your arms to help you stand up then brings you into his arms. You’re shaking your head, murmuring further about how you’re sorry for making him go through it though you don’t make any move to get away from him. “It’s–it’s all because of me and you–”

Your words die down when his mouth finds yours, because Wonwoo doesn’t want to hear it and, most importantly, he doesn’t want you to blame yourself for whatever the demon did. He pulls away when he feels you relax, and your eyes are a little hazy like you’re in a trance (which he’s sure he must be sprouting the same look, too), making him chuckle before he drops another chaste kiss on the side of your mouth.

“Don’t apologize,” his stern voice whispers against your ear. “You did nothing wrong, get it?”

It pains him that you don’t seem to believe his words, but he’ll remind you over and over again if that’s what he needs to do.

“Moon, you’re my mate.” Your eyes snap to him in surprise at his statement; feeling the bound is one thing, but hearing Wonwoo vocalizing it out loud is another and you’re pretty sure the whole house can hear your heart beating wildly against your chest. But Wonwoo doesn’t seem to care, and he keeps on talking as he cups your face. “They probably took me because of that, they knew you'd come if it was me in danger. I’d do it too if it was the other way around. All of that? None of it is your fault. We were caught in a situation and things happened. It’s out of our control.”

“But, still…”

“No,” he shakes his head, his smile patient and understanding. “I’m not the only one who got hurt. You did too. Do you want me to apologize for not being able to protect you?”

“No!” you raise your voice before you even realize, getting his point immediately. “But it’s different. He–they…”

He places his finger on your lips, stopping you from talking further. He doesn’t want to hear this–not when you’ve just woken up, not ever. That seems to do it for now, and he silently helps you with your clothes so you’d get out of the bathroom and eat something.

The meal is finished in the blink of an eye, and after more coddling from the pack, you find yourself back in your room by yourself, staring into nothing and thinking about what they’ve just told you about that night prior to you blacking out.

You don’t actually remember much after Wonwoo passed out, and even though it isn’t a story best fitting to be told while you’re having dinner, you insist because you can’t help but feel like there’s something missing in the back of your mind. And, true enough, they said you went berserk.

Not that you’re surprised.

You’ve called Lisa earlier to have a talk with her mom, one of the most knowledgeable mages you’ve known after your aunt. She’s said something about your wolves already bonding with each other even though you’re not marked yet, and it’s not impossible that your wolf was just running on instinct the moment it felt its mate in grave danger.

The combined power of the wolf within you and the magic running through your blood intensified because Wonwoo was basically dying.

“Moon, may I come in?” Wonwoo asks from the other side of the door, and you answer by opening the door slightly with a flick of your wrist. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, signalling Wonwoo to lay down next to you. “Was just thinking over some stuff.”

Wonwoo doesn’t even need to ask to know what you’re thinking about, settling under your blanket and laying on his side to face you, his eyes scouting your face. 

He was pretty shocked too when he found out you went berserk after he lost his consciousness; he’s always known you’re powerful–but to the point where you’re somehow able to turn a hoard of wraiths without doing anything? To return hellhounds to their shadows? To boil the incubus’ blood from the inside without straining any extra effort?

Seungcheol has told him he was worried you’d lose yourself for a moment there. But you passed out after that sudden wave of magic and Wonwoo figures that means your magic took control of your body if only for a brief period of time.

“How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” you shrug, and then hesitate for a bit before you relay to him the information you got from Lisa’s mom. He doesn’t reply immediately, mind still busy taking in what you’ve just told him as his fingers absentmindedly play with yours. It’s both flattering and frightening to know your bond is already that strong even if he hasn’t marked you yet. But knowing what presumably is your full power got unleashed because he was hurt…

He sees your eyes drop to the side of his neck again, and he lets your finger trace the scar in the most delicate way possible–as if afraid he’ll bleed again if you press too hard. Despite the severity of its wound when it happened, his scar has actually healed though the mark is still there.

“Moon… It’s fine. I’m here with you now and that’s what matters,” he reminds you with a whisper, his hand grasping your wrist to place a kiss there. “It’s just a scar.”

“I… can still feel him if I close my eyes, you know?” you bite your lip as you admit this, not wanting to see Wonwoo’s angry eyes. “It’s always like that after an encounter with an incubus. Usually I’d even flinch when people tried to touch me, but I suppose it’s better now because you’re here? But if I close my eyes it’s like…”

You shiver at the thought, and it feels like something is crawling under your skin as you remember how the incubus held you that night. Wonwoo places his palms on your neck, compelling you to look at him. 

“You’re here with me, okay? Remember that. You’re with me and he can’t touch you now.” Wonwoo’s voice is gentle but firm, you decide, and you find yourself nodding even though the fear is still there in the back of your mind. That’s the least you can do, you think to yourself. Pretend like it doesn’t affect you until it really doesn’t.

You don’t have it in you to cry anymore, but you’re being real when you said you can still feel his touch against your skin, and when Wonwoo’s thumb forces your lip down from the confinement of your teeth because you don’t realize you’ve been biting it, it’s then that you taste the blood on your tongue.

“Don’t do that.” He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes can’t seem to look away from it. “You want to talk about it?”

Exhaling a deep breath, you shake your head and bury yourself into his neck instead, your lips grazing the scar there and Wonwoo has to hold back a sigh from the sensation. He wraps his arm around you instead, pulling your body closer to his so you’re pressed against each other.

He can feel you stiffen when his fingers come in contact with the skin under your shirt, though you relax immediately and cuddle yourself further into his hold. The both of you stay that way for a moment, basking in the other’s presence without saying anything as moonlight faintly shines through your window. 

Wonwoo traces a circle on your skin, and your magic once again hums in content at the feeling of it. And while his finger is making circles there, yours once again finds the fading mark of his scar that you know would forever be etched on his skin.

Your eyes find his lips, and it seems that the world stops for a moment because Wonwoo does the same, then your eyes meet his in the exact same second.

“Kiss me?” you breathe in a soft whisper, which only amplifies the effect it has on him–like your words alone don’t make his head go haywire enough. “Make me forget and–”

His kiss is soft despite the rush he’s feeling in his body. And he kisses you like it’s the only thing he wants to do–and maybe it is–and you actually have to gasp for air when it gets too much because you’re starting to get light headed from the whole thing.

You stiffen when his lips find your neck, but he reminds you again and again that it’s him, whispers over your skin to tell him to stop if it gets too much. But you find yourself making ways for his lips to wander further, your fingers already combing through his hair and pushing him deeper into you.

And it seems like your body understands that this man is worshipping you, reacting to Wonwoo in ways that you’ve never experienced before. He doesn’t forget to ask if you’re okay from time to time, doesn’t think at all about his own pleasure even though his wolf is already screaming to mark you already.

His lips find yours again, and, before you know it, Wonwoo’s hovering over you, his fingers intertwined with yours. The kiss is slower this time, and you’re pretty sure a little more and you’d be able to map the shape of his lips.

Wonwoo pulls away to take a breath, but you can’t get enough of him so your lips chase his and he grunts from the sudden force when you pull him down right on top of you. It’s safe for him to assume your wolf is dying to be marked as much as his is begging for the same thing.

“You sure you want to do this?” Wonwoo pants, his eyes piercing into yours from above.

The smile you give him is enough to make all the stars in the sky seem faint, and there’s a sudden wave of fulfillment that rushes through him at the sight of it; like he’s found his other half.

Like a puzzle with the last missing piece.

“As long as it’s with you.”

He wonders why the moon seems brighter tonight.

taglist: @kyeomjjigae @nothingbutadeadesceane @sleeplessdawn @kpopjackie @everyw0nu @twogyuu

A/N 2: special thanks to @lily-blue for brainstorming with me when i first started writing this 😭 and happy birthday also @sunshinein17 who mentioned you share birthday with wonwoo hehe, hope you enjoy this also ^^ anyway, again!! if you're reading up to this point, thank you for sparing your time to read this rather lengthy fic and please dont hesitate to send your feedbacks bc i honestly wanna know!! i know my 10k++ fics usually have less audience but this is to celebrate wonwoo so 😸

once again, happy birthday, my love🤍🤍🤍

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo angst #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo oneshot #seventeen scenario #svt fic #wonwoo imagines #svt angst #svt fluff #svt scenarios #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo fic

[brighttears]

The Day the Music Died

Joel Miller x f!reader

no physical description

summary: Joel and Ellie have made it to Jackson and are getting used to not being so sacred all the time. Someone has figured out a way to get some music going and there's a dance at the Tipsy Bison.

warnings: (light) drinking, mentions of death

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i have never posted fan fiction anywhere so bear with me. feedback appreciated

—

Ellie walked towards the Tipsy Bison, attracted by the unfamiliar sounds coming from inside. She knew music of course, but not what she heard from the bar, and there was something else–laughter, chatter; the sound of joy. The windows glowed a flickering gold, standing out against the quiet, dusk-gray streets. 

She slowly pushed the door open and peeked inside. The bar was packed, she thought it had to be at least most of the people in Jackson. Maria had stopped by earlier to let her know that there was going to be a dance at the bar. Ellie was immediately reluctant. 

“Dancing…?” She replied, raising her eyebrows at Maria. 

“Yeah, Jonathan found a way to get some music on. Used to work at RadioShack.” she chuckled, “I almost forgot what it sounded like. Come on. It’ll be fun.” She smiled.

Ellie sighed, not moving from her perch on the window bay. “Okay... maybe later. Maybe.” 

Maria paused. “Alright. Whenever you're ready, come on down.”

She got bored. She couldn't dance and she didn't want to, but curiosity was killing her, and if Joel was on the dancefloor, she’d never forgive herself if she missed it.

The atmosphere made Ellie stop in the doorway, eyes wide. She spotted Maria standing next to Tommy by the bar, facing the floor which had been cleared of tables and chairs, smiling wide and clapping along to the song filling the air.

She slowly made her way towards them and looked out on the floor, covered in dancing pairs; couples, kids and parents, anyone and everyone. When Maria noticed her come up next to her, she pointed to one couple in particular and a grin bloomed on Ellie’s face. 

It was Joel and y/n. 

This was a special sight—Joel was fucking dancing. 

Ellie laughed as she watched, the sound covered up by the music, chatter, laughter, and feet tapping the wood floor.

They moved like magnets, and Joel’s eyes focused on y/n in a way Ellie had never seen. It touched something in her and she realized that it reminded her of the way she'd looked at Riley. 

Joel had y/n in his arms, one hand holding hers in the air and the other on her waist while she held onto his shoulder. The floor moved like waves, couples in sync. 

The song, Ellie had never heard, but she liked it, even though the lyrics were weird. 

Did you write the book of love

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

Joel was smiling, laughing, his eyes wrinkling at the edges in a way that Ellie didn't know they could. 

They were swinging around the dancefloor, doing footwork that Ellie knew was a thing but had never seen. A waltz?

“I knew you wouldn't be able to resist this.” Maria said, smiling wide, just like everybody else, before Tommy swept her up and onto the dancefloor.

I started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good ol' boys were drinking whiskey 'n rye

Singin' "this'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die"

Ellie felt a disconnect as she watched. This song she’d never heard that everyone else seemed to know by heart, this dance that came so naturally, and Joel so focused on someone else.

She didn't expect the jealousy that came over her ever since they got to Jackson and Joel started spending time with his brother, away from her. 

She loved seeing him so happy, she really did, but she felt a twinge inside of her. 

This was a glimpse into a world she'd missed out on. 

She glanced behind her and hopped up onto a stool at the bar. She glanced behind her again and then looked around her. Everyone was plenty distracted, so Ellie grabbed a bottle and a glass from behind the bar, poured herself some whisky, spilling a little, and quickly downed it. Her face turned up and she pounded her chest and coughed. “Still gross. I don’t know why I keep trying."

Ellie couldn’t help but keep her eyes Joel and y/n. This was a brand new side of him. He looked so vulnerable; it was something about his eyes, the way they looked into y/n’s. She looked back into his just the same. 

The floor slowed as the music did.

And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

The two had slowed, tightened, locked into each other.

Joel’s smile had faded, he looked more serious, but his face remained relaxed. She barely recognized the man she saw on the floor, so close to someone, so relaxed. They held each other like it was what they were made to do. 

And the three men I admire the most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast 

The day the music died

They slowed to almost stillness. Joel’s brow was furrowed slightly, his mouth still so relaxed, his eyes still focused on y/n. He looked raw and almost tragic. Ellie thought she should look away, it felt like such a private moment, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. She was fascinated with this side of Joel. 

Ellie thought the song was over, but then what sounded like everyone in the building started singing,

Bye-bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

Them good ol’ boys were drinking whisky and rye

Singin’ “this’ll be the day that I diiieeee”

With the last strum of guitar, the room broke out in shouts and applause. Ellie was a little startled by the volume, she had never been in a room with so many people being so loud. She reflexively tightened up, ready to run from the inevitable threat of infected, but looking out to the floor filled with such warm, carefree joy, seeing how safe they all felt, she relaxed. She let herself enjoy the moment. 

As another song started playing, Joel and y/n broke and laughed. Ellie felt a mystery pang in her chest as she watched Joel laughing like that. 

They drifted over to the bar, reluctantly releasing their hands but acting like it was nothing. Ellie filled her cup again with whiskey and slid down next to Joel. 

“Wow, that was really somethin’,” she smirked and offered the glass to Joel. He took it, hesitated, and set the glass down on the bar. 

“Didn’t think you were gonna come.” he said, unable to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Yeah, not really my scene. But I never would have forgiven myself if I missed out on you… dancing.”

Joel shook his head and chuckled. 

“Are you drunk…?” Ellie asked. 

Joel kept his eyes to the floor with a smile still glued on his lips. “Nope. Just happy.”

Ellie didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Soooo… can I drink that?”

“Drink what?” y/n interjected, leaning past Joel, also smiling wildly at Ellie. She looked down at the glass of whiskey, “No fucking way.” Ellie started to protest, but y/n stopped her, “You don’t want fucking whiskey. I’ll make you something way better.”

Ellie grinned in surprise as y/n slid behind the bar and started mixing her a drink.

Y/n set down a glass of water that sparkled and popped, which to Ellie looked like witch magic, poured in something red, and topped it with the brightest cherry Ellie had ever seen. She spun back behind her and grabbed a bottle, spun back to Ellie, set the bottle down and smirked at her. She raised her eyebrows up and down and poured a shot of vodka into the drink, then picked up the glass and set it down in front of Ellie. Ellie grinned in surprise as she picked up the glass. She took a long sip, grimacing only a little and smiled wide at y/n.

“That’s all she’s gettin’ though. I don’t want you pukin’ everywhere.” Joel looked at y/n and then at Ellie, “…Whad'ya think?” 

“Definitely better than that other shit. Why are you drinking that all the time when you can have this?”

“Cause I’m an adult… adults have different tastes. Whisky tastes like that so 14 year olds won’t drink it. And if that was straight vodka, you’d spit it right back up. That grenadine shit is just sugar. ‘Course you like it.”

“Grenadine and maraschino cherries are also much harder to come by these days. Moonshine tastes like shit but it’s more apocalypse friendly.” Added y/n.  

Maria and Tommy appeared in front of them “Is that alcohol?” Maria asked, disapprovingly. “It’s a Shirley Temple with just a shot of vodka. She’ll get a buzz, at best.” Y/n reassured her. 

“Oh, come on, I should be able to get drunk. There’s no way I could ever get away with it out there,” Ellie motioned, meaning outside the walls of Jackson, “besides, I’ll have all of you to protect me from… whatever bad stuff happens when people get drunk.”

Maria giggled, “‘Whatever bad stuff happens when people get drunk?’”

“YEAH, I don’t fuckin’ know, if nothing bad happens why is everyone so fucking scared of me drinking? They told us we’d get, like, thrown out onto the street if they caught us drinking at FEDRA school. What’s the big deal?”

“Trust me, Ellie, you’re not missing out on much. It’s fun for a minute until you start throwing up, taking off all your clothes and peeing on the floor.” Y/n told her.

“What?” Joel and then everyone else broke out in laughter, except for y/n, who threw her hands up.

Tommy said, “Oh, shut up Joel, like you haven’t done shit like that. You know, I had to pick him up from a bar once, needed three guys to get him up and into the car. Fuckin’ droolin’ and cryin’ all over me. Felt like tryna get a newborn to bed.” They all laughed hard.

“Fuck off, Tommy. Like--like you’re one to talk! Can’t tell ya how many times I had to get this sonabitch outta jail cause he drank too much and started swingin’ at anyone in a five foot radius.” 

“Ok, ok, jeez, I’ll stick to the grenadine.” 

Another song started over the speakers and y/n gasped, “I LOVE this song, someone please come dance with me.” 

The bar had emptied a couple hours later. Y/n wouldn’t leave until she got Ellie to dance with her and Maria. After a couple songs, Maria decided that’s all she could handle at a good few months pregnant, so she, Ellie, and y/n all left together. Joel and Tommy had stayed to clean up and close down. 

They talked at the bar for a while after everyone had gone.

“I’m surprised you’re still conscious, sittin’ in front of this open bar all night.” Tommy laughed. Joel chuckled and looked down at his hands. 

“Me too, honestly. I guess I didn’t have a reason to drink tonight. I was… I had fun.” He said, turning to his brother with a smile. “You know, I don’t remember the last time I said that.” 

Tommy just looked at him, smiling. Then he said, “You know, it was weird when I got here to Jackson. It almost… disturbed me, to see people happy like that. Kids laughin’. So fuckin’ young, not a care in the world. It felt wrong.” He shook his head. “All these years… without all that. Sure, we had laughs here and there. And it’s not like this place is paradise; it took years for them to get it secure, safe enough, for people to be able to laugh like that." He paused. "I’m real glad you made it here, Joel.” 

“Me too. Worth the journey.”

“You know, I haven’t seen you look like you did tonight in… hell, over 20 years.” Tommy sighed, trying to read Joel’s eyes, which were cast back down to his hands.

There were a few beats of silence before Joel spoke.

“Did I ever tell you the first time I… Ellie and I met her?”

“No.”

Joel sighed and looked up. 

“Few months before we got here. It was startin’ to get cold. Ellie and I found some old motel to hole up in, sleep for a night, see if we could find anythin’. We were low on food. I thought I checked every room but, fuck me, I was tired. It’d been days… well, the next day we looked around some, as soon as we found somethin’ we ate. We were just fuckin’ hungry. I was startin’ to get scared we were gonna…” Joel shook his head. “We got lucky. I got fuckin’ lucky. I didn’t hear her until she cocked her gun. Standin’ in the doorway with a magnum pointed right at me. She had a dog, too. Told us she wasn’t gonna hurt us, that she’d been watchin’ us since we got there, that she knows we’re out of food, and then she threw a can of fucking Campbell’s at me.” They chuckled. “I asked her later why she did that. She said it was the kid. And she said she saw somethin’ 'bout me,” He furrowed his brow. “She said she knows I would’ve shot her if I wanted to, but… well, I didn’t, obviously.” He shifted in his seat and took a long pause. “She said she was just sorta wanderin’, she had a group–all girls–but they ran into some trouble in the city and it was just her and the dog left. Lefty, was the dog’s name, cause he had his left ear gone, they didn't know how. They just found him and took him in, I guess. Anyway. She found the motel a couple days before we got there and looted it, found food, not much else. Bunch of fuckin’ money,” Joel chuckled, “Amazing how fuckin’ useless it is now. Just paper. So she had all this food and she saw us, hadn’t seen a kid in a long time, she said. And she said… she said I had kind eyes.” 

Tommy laughed, “I think she’s the only fuckin’ person that would say that about you.”

“I know!” Joel laughed. “Anyway. She shared her supplies with us, we stayed at the motel a day or two. I told her I was going to find my brother. I don’t know why the fuck I told her that. I’d known her for one goddamn day. I didn’t tell her about Ellie yet, though. Told her she was someone else’s kid that I’d promised I’d take care of. Not that far from the truth. So she was with us for a couple weeks, we ran into some trouble, got separated. Her dog got shot. I figured she was dead, figured I’d never see her again. But I spotted her at the stables the second day we were here.” Joel smiled. 

Tommy waited for more. “That’s it?”

“Whad’ya mean ‘that's it’?”

“Ok, ok. If that’s all you wanna say about it.” “What? That's it! I asked if you knew how we met her.”

“Ok, ok. That does answer some questions, though. I was surprised you started takin’ to someone as fast as you did with her. But I get it. What I wanna know, though, is what got you dancin’ with her like that?” Joel smiled and shook his head. 

“Joel,” Tommy waited until he looked at him. “I gotta say… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look at anyone like that. Not even Sarah’s mom.” 

Joel cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.” Tommy said quickly. 

“No, it’s alright.” He took a long breath and a smile started creeping up on his face. He looked down, chuckled, shook his head, and then it faded. “Tommy… it’s so fuckin’ scary… caring about someone, now. That’s the thing I’m most scared of. I didn’t want to take Ellie when Marlene asked us to. Tess made that decision. And then she died, and she made me promise to keep going with her… Tommy, it scares me so much sometimes that I can’t breathe. But you can’t just turn that off, caring about someone. I don’t know, Tommy. You’re right. I… I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. Horrible, horrible fuckin’ timing. But… and I… I hate myself for even thinkin’ this, I know it’s wrong, but…” He shook his head. “I just… I don’t know if I would have met her if… the world hadn’t fallen apart, you know? It’s not like I’m grateful for it, fuck no. But…” he shook his head again.

“Hey,” Tommy interjected, “I met Maria 20 years into the world falling apart. Hell, I’m havin’ a fuckin’ kid with her. I get it.” “Tommy I… I just can’t fuckin’ help it. She’s just got this hold on me. And now that I’ve lost her and I got her back, I can’t imagine… I just don’t ever want to lose her again. I just never want to be without her.” Joel looked his brother in the eyes, brow furrowed. Tommy pursed his lips and nodded. 

They both looked back down after a moment. Then Joel reached over the bar, poured himself a shot of whiskey, threw it back, and said “Alright. It’s late.”

“Yeah, we better close up. We should do this again though, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah. I missed music.”

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel the last of us

[barbieburnanator]

Hi!! Is it ok to ask more questions about your OC amber? Like what kind of food she enjoys at the monastery and what places she's likely to frequent!! Ty for sharing your art and creativity! 🥺🥺🥹🥹

IT IS ALWAYS OKAY TO ASK ABOUT MY OC AMBER!! I don’t get that many questions about her, so when I do it makes me really happy! It blows my mind that others like her so much that they would want to know more. 😊

For food, Amber has a big sweet tooth. Though probably not as much as Lysithea, she loves nothing more than sipping tea and enjoying a baked good. (If you give her cake she will be your best friend!!) Amber herself grew up on a farm, so she ate a lot of staples foods growing up like soups and stews. When she found herself at the monastery, she was delighted to find new dishes to try, attempting any new foods that came her way. So far she’s learned that spicy food isn’t so much her thing, as well as fish, though she will eat anything that is placed in front of her. (If nothing else to be thoughtful and not wasteful of the food itself.) She enjoys mostly vegetables and/ or meat dishes.  Here’s what she likes that’s offered at the dinning hall – sauteed jerky, vegetable stir-fry, Gronder meat skewers, onion Gratin soup, fried crayfish (the only seafood she likes), pheasant roast with berry sauce, sweet bun trio, and peach sorbet.

As for places she likes to frequent to around the monastery, she loves to spend time around the library, stables, greenhouse, and nearby woods. The library and reading remind her of when her parents would read to her before bed. Often reading until she fell asleep. Now as a young adult and with her parents gone, she likes to read when trying to fall asleep. It gives her comfort. Sylvain has seen her on multiple occasions staring out of a window from the library. When asked about it, Amber states that the view from that window in particular looks like the view from her house growing up. Standing here at dusk takes her back to a time before she was all alone. An important detail about Amber is that she works for the monastery to help pay her way through classes. She’ll spend time at the stables caring for the horses and other animals and likes to visit the stables in her spare time as well. Mercedes caught her taking scarps from the dining hall to feed the cats and dogs around the stables. Since then, the two will collect food scraps to give to the animals. The greenhouse is for sure one of her favorites! Growing up on a farm, she spent time tending to crops, but she also helped her mother grow flowers as well! Her real name (Amber isn’t her birth name) is based off a flower given to her by her mother. As such, she loves to help grow the plants in the greenhouse. There’s been a rumor that someone heard her sing to the plants late at night. Ignatz confesses later that it was him, stating that he heard the voice and needed to know who was singing such a beautiful song. And finally, the woods around the monastery. She would live out there if she could (but Seteth wouldn’t allow it) as it’s the closest to feeling like home to her. The big trees, wild animals, babbling brooks, it all gives her comfort and makes her feel at peace. She likes to collect herbs to create salves and game to sell in town. She can be seen reading under a particular tree near the edge of the woods. But she has had to find a new hiding spot as Claude now likes to look for her every time he’s out there. An endless game of hide-and-seek.

Wow! That’s a lot but I couldn’t stop writing. I really enjoy answering questions like this, thanks so much for asking it really means a lot to me. 😊

Here’s a little sketch of Amber as well!

#my art #my oc #oc amber #fe oc #fe3h os #asks #THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! for asking #it really means so much to me to see others have in interest in my ocs #whether someone likes my art or not I'll always be making it. but seeing others enjoy it makes me want to draw all the more

[lmelodie]

Familiar Territory

BlackIce for Valentines Day!!! LET'S GOOO! A few years after Chance and Choice, BlackIce being back together for a hot second by this point.

I'm gonna be so fr, this little one shot has made me realize that I maybe don't know how to write fluff for these bitches?? It was harder than I thought it would be! There are other more fluffy concepts in my wips but this one has a lot more substance.

Oh, also y'all remember Ryder from this little doodle dump? The Mermaid? His character got overhauled and his name is Rowan now lol.

Bonus doodle at the very end, ENJOY!

Anyone from the magical realms will tell you, with varying levels of jealousy, that there are plenty of places that a magical being can roam about freely amongst human kind with minimal or even no cloaking involved. One of these being New York City, wherein everyone seems at least a little bit off kilter or odd in a way that blends everyone together in their strangeness. So realistically in the height of the Christmas season, no one would ever notice, or at least look twice at a very seasonally appropriate man in a blue suit in the midst of an otherwise normal group of friends. 

"Join us! Join us! JOIN US!" Lucy’s chants fade into and then quickly out of earshot to Killian as her and Jack skate by yet another time on their route around the rink. She turns around on her skates and holds onto Jack’s shoulder so he can keep pulling her along as she waves down her fellow redhead as they go for another lap around. 

She shouted the same thing to him for the last five laps and just like those other times he paid her no mind, glued to his chain smoking spot leaning against a nearby column.

The ambience of the Winter Village rink during Christmas on the edge of dusk was the pinnacle of experiencing the Christmas spirit that particular day. Even in her early twenties her enthusiasm for such things has never wavered, bouncing off the walls all day and Jack, Killian and Rowan were all subject to her special brand of holiday energy. Which includes her insisting that Killian should get out on the ice with them. 

He only showed up maybe an hour ago, knowing that Jack was somewhere in the city, but he overlooked the inevitable presence of his emotional support dormouse and her new squeeze. So the boogeyman patiently waits for them to finish off on the side of the rink, watching her spin back around to take Jack’s arm for the casual stroll. His presence unassumingly creates a breach of space in the crowd of civilians around him who fear to approach him any further for reasons they themselves cannot articulate.  

“Behind you!” Rowan shouts out to the pair as he quickly catches up to them on their rotation.

A curiously out of sorts human pyromancer that swept the young woman off her feet about 6 months ago. The whole met in college love story between a wizard and a sorceress with the stack of dropped books that he offered to help her with and everything. A rigamarole of horrible cliches that they've been enjoying to no end. 

He quickly catches up to the pair and crashes into Lucy from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and pushing her forward and away from Jack as they slow to a stop further ahead. She chuckles in good spirits with him all the same.

“How'd I do?” Rowan asks through gasps of air as he brushes back the brown shaggy hair from his face.

Lucy rolls up the sleeve on her overcoat to check her watch, “Fifteen laps around in…forty five minutes.”

"What!? Oh come on! I was really pushing it too,” he chuckles breathlessly.

“That's not a bad time at all! I don't think.”

"Eh. I've seen faster," Jack interjects as he quickly passes them by.

“Nobody asked you,” she shouts after him, quickly tilting her head up to Rowan. “Don't listen to him, your time was fine. If it's any consolation you were fast in my heart.”

Rowan snickers, “That doesn't even make sense.”

“It does so! Physics works differently in my heart. And what makes even more sense is getting a cocoa break,” she can feel her date dropping his arms from her waist as she takes his hand and pulls him along. “Keeping warm is important when someone likes to bite peoples fingers!”

Jack turns over his shoulder at the call out as they catch back up to him, “Excuse me? You've got the wrong guy here. I've worked hard to scrub that reputation clean ya know, and you're over here dragging my name back through the mud again. If you're looking for a finger biter, look at him.”

He vaguely gestures to Killian on the sidelines as the three of them complete the last lap and skate back up to the gate they entered at. Jack watches Lucy and Rowan exit the rink while he lingers behind on the ice and throws his elbows on the ledge. On cue, Killian throws the half burnt cigarette onto the floor and snuffs it out with boot, throwing his hands into his pockets to stroll over to where Jack has stopped.

“Your turn,” he says with a smug grin.

He rolls his eyes, “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Because you know you can't do it?”

“Yeah, actually. So what,” Killian shifts his weight slightly over to stand a fraction closer to the open gateway to the rink, the throngs of people moving about around him also move accordingly.

“So, I've been trying to teach you how for sky knows how long. It's your own fault you don't know.”

“None of that has been teaching, it was sabotaging,” he provides a ghost of a smile, “It's not a skill I need to know. There has never been a time where skating on the ice has ever been useful to me.”

“Says who?” Jack replies, “Who's to say it won't come in handy in the knick of time one of these days?”

“Me. That's never gonna happen so I don't need to learn.”

Jack gets an idea. Well, Jack had the idea ever since Killian showed up and has been simmering this entire time. It's the same idea he always has in locations and circumstances like these. 

“Mhm, right. So why are you here exactly?” he asks with an air of feigned innocence. 

Killian sighs, “Because I actually wanna do something fun for a change.”

“What, you're telling me that small children face planting onto the ice isn't fun?”

Killian looks out onto the ice with a small chuckle to see if any such occurrences would make themselves loudly known, “Oh don't get me wrong, that's always funny. Especially if you get a few right after the other in a stupid little domino effect. Or if all of them go down at once at the same time.”

Jack snorts in choking back a laugh, “Exactly. And I'm sure it would be a lot funnier from a better vantage point,” He says, motioning to the open gate.

Kills shakes his head, “Hah, nice try, but not in your immortal life. Now let's blow this ice cube stand and go west, I want a front row seat when the 405 gets backed up and wrecked from a freak blizzard.” 

The marginally threatening tone and that one specific look was practically designed to catch a Yes as an answer, as the prospect was something they did often in the last couple years. Jack makes it seem he’s got him hook, line and sinker. 

“Fine. I guess I can squeeze that into my very busy schedule—,” Jack pauses as he takes one foot off the ice, looking around the immediate vicinity before grabbing Killians arm with both hands, “—later!”

In one fell swoop Jack pulls Killian out onto the ice with subtle wisps of blue magic forming under his boots with each step to make blades of ice. A couple of sharp swears are heard as he clumsily stumbles into the rink, nearly slipping and falling at least twenty times in quick succession, forced to grab onto Jack as his only form of stability. He quickly comes to an unsteady stop, far enough away from the gate so he can't backtrack too easily and practically clings to Jack out of necessity, holding his breath.

Jack on the other hand keeps both of their weight steady by holding onto his upper arms with the biggest, shit eating smirk on his face. He lets him adjust his balance slightly as he lets the moment simmer for half a second, savoring it.

“Need help?” he finally says.

Killian's face uncharacteristically flushes, “No...! And fuck you!”

Jack can’t help but snicker while trying to help him stand up straighter and actually get moving somewhat, which his body language vehemently disagrees with and actively fights him against, “I just can't believe that after nearly two thousand years you still fall for it. Everytime. Truly amazing, have I ever told you how incredible you are?”

“Shut up! I’ll fucking kill you,” Killian grumbles, nearly sputters, tightening his grip on arms when his feet wobble a bit, “You are going to pay for this later, I swear to god.”

“Hm, promise?”

This actually earns a tiny laugh from him, but also gains a more menacing look, “You’d like that wouldn't you. Your just so fucking lucky that there’s so many people hERE—!”

Lucy and Rowan seated themselves on a nearby bench to watch Killian nearly fall again, each having their own cup of fresh cocoa. Lucy stretches and waves one of her arms in the air to catch their attention, “You're doing great Kills!”

“Lucy, I will break BOTH of your legs!”

Killian doesn't turn back but Jack looks directly at her with that same smug grin and a casual two finger salute to her as Killlian tries to steady himself again, clearly enjoying every precious second, knowing that it is a passing moment of superiority.

Lucy pays his threat no mind, Rowan beside her giving the two a more worried look for her safety as they survey the pair on the ice, their relative peace quickly devolves into their usual petty arguing about how Killian was only making things worse and Jack telling him to stop moving so much. This, turning a few heads of the other skaters that stay far, far away from the duo.  

Rowan turns back to Lucy, giving a quick glance to her mug before pulling out his wand from an inside coat pocket. He brings the amber tip to trace the rim of the cup with a very soft glow, summoning trails of golden magic to follow its path and dip into the hot chocolate with fading sparkle and seeping the enchantment into the drink, making sure it stays at a perfectly hot temperature. 

“You're almost as bad as him,” she softly smiles and brings the cup to her mouth, “you're not supposed to use magic out and about ya know.”

“It's not magic, it's…a prop,” he casually tries to excuse. “There's a Harry Potter store like, an hour away, it's fine. I just hate that the drinks get cold so fast.”

“Thanks,” her posture relaxes when taking another sip and leaning her head on his shoulder. 

Rowan, while getting more used to it, still blushes slightly when she leans against him. He intuitively puts his free arm around her shoulder as they watch Killian struggle on the ice, with Jack trying not to laugh too hard at him. Lucy continues to egg him on from the sidelines with returned threats on her life, both her and Jack taking varying levels of enjoyment in his struggle for very different reasons.

#digital art #musings #CC #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #BlackIce #jack frost #Lucy Miller #OC #its so hard to write fluff for these bitches! #impossible to think they DONT suffer in any given scenario

[inwonderland-or-atleast-inwonder]

Wrote this in the airport because I can't get it out of my head. I love Marco and Celia and Percy and Annabeth and idk if anyone else cares about This Particular Overlap but I am not normal about it! Imagine Percy as Celia and Annabeth as Marco. Imagine them at the circus, building tents that are love letters to each other. Imagine "I wished for her." I even know exactly how the bonfire scene would go in this version. I have a crazed outline for this whole fic.

In any case, here is the prologue of a story I will probably never write.

____________

Some say the circus appears without warning.

But you know better.

For days, the wind has shifted, bringing with it the far-off scent of a crackling fire. The world itself here has been strange—you wonder if anyone else has noticed it—lightning tearing apart a still-blue sky, the rush of the river louder than it should be, owls spotted in trees that usually house no more than squirrels, new vines creeping up walls even though it is long past spring. Nature shifts, and you swear it whispers to you. Something is coming.

And then, the circus arrives.

At first you think they are not tents at all, but temples. Ivory towers frame fabric trimmed in gold and silver, towering against a cloudless sky. There are countless tents of varying shapes and sizes, but no pointed tops or bright circus colors to be seen. No color at all inside the elaborate bronze fence. Even what little ground is visible from outside is a faint silver, painted or powdered, or treated with some other circus trick.

But it is not open for business. Not just yet.

On the gate hangs a sign in gold letters, one that reads:

            Opens at solstice             Closes at daybreak or nightfall.

It seems that you were not the only one to notice the ways the world itself has been shifting. There are a handful of others, here to follow the feeling that something important has changed, that all is not as it always is in this sleepy little town. From there, the story spreads. Even those who woke up sensing nothing odd in the world, who would have been sure that all is ordinary, take notice now. The arrival of a mysterious circus cannot be rationalized away. As dusk approaches, a crowd gathers outside the gates.

What kind of circus is open only one day and one night a year?

You are at the front of the crowd, of course. You have been here all day, watching the circus, yes—but also watching the grass in the fields around it, the blue sky still cloudless for the first time in weeks. You stand in the fading light, the scarf you brought against the chill of an evening breeze hanging loosely around your shoulders, the wind surprisingly warm and soft for mid-December.What kind of circus is able can announce itself in the way that you are sure this one has—with lightning and water and perhaps the very heavens calling its name?

When the lights begin, they are small enough to go unnoticed. Tiny flames licking at the bronze fence where nothing had been there before. Several people in the crowd leap back when they notice, but you are not afraid. These flames are warm, each a tiny hearth. The crowd quiets as the flames take shape, no longer a mere constellation of light and warmth. When the last of them light in a flashing arc, you think they might be letters, but not in any language you can read:

            Ólumpos: το τσίρκο των θεών

A man with professor’s glasses and a grandfather’s twinkling eyes smiles in recognition. You are not the only one who has noticed his expression, who wishes he would explain what he alone has understood. It is a child who finally tugs on his sleeve and asks what you have all been wondering.

“Olympus. The Circus of the Gods,” comes the reply. The crowd is thoughtful. You wonder what the name means. You wonder, despite yourself, if the gods themselves have been called to your sleepy little town.

Then the great bronze gates, flames and all, shudder and unlock, seemingly by their own volition. They swing outward, inviting the crowd inside.

Tonight, Olympus is open.

Tonight, you may see for yourself.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #the night circus #marco alisdair #celia bowen #fic #maybe

[dayblalock20]

Prada Handbags At Bergdorf Goodman

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#fake prada bag #prada fake #fake prada #fake prada purse #fake prada wallet

[hortascountrysidenotes]

Horticultural triumph

Everything comes to he who waits, and after 8 years I have managed to get 4 Tulipa sprengeri flowering in our little meadow strips!!  These beautiful species tulips are native to eastern Europe, found growing wild in grassland in countries such as Turkey.  I bought a packet of seed from Avon bulbs 8 years ago, with the details on the packets saying patience was of the essence!  They had first to be sown into a seed tray, then after 3 years of seeing what looks like little blades of grass coming through, sunk into a flowerbed still in the tray, and then after another three years while the leaves thickened a little more each year, they went into their final positions in the meadows.  Two years of nothing and then suddenly last week as I walked past looking at nothing in particular I spotted a golden bud with a hint of red on the edges - now we have four beautiful bright scarlet tulips - I seem to think I planted out about 10 on each side so maybe more will come if not this year then next.

Birdlife is a joy - the blackbird serenades each morning are the best we can remember and there are several pairs nesting around the garden.  We have two young greenfinches coming with their parents to the bird table, the starling families have fledged - and boy do we know it, - they are extremely noisy but quite funny.  7 swifts are bombing the garden - the usual 3 pairs and one single - we have put up the most unattractive looking but maybe functional swift nest boxes - maybe the newcomer will find a mate and use one!  The swallow is sitting again but the third is still about - can we somehow ensure that this clutch are safe - it will be hard to monitor.  Warblers are giving us a treat at dawn and dusk and the garden and little woodland are home to whitethroat, blackcap, chiff chaff, garden warbler and willow warbler.  Reed buntings are in evidence on the common and this morning I heard the first (and probably only) turtle dove.

Roe deer are changing colour to that wonderful chestnut colour of summer - there are so many about - the dogs take little notice of them which is great as it means we can get quite close and watch them in detail.  

All good in the garden despite the intensity of the work at this time of year.  All the veg are now in their final positions and the winter veg have or are germinating - Cavolo Nero, Purple sprouting and the leeks.  Cucumbers are through so I shall prepare the cold frames as last year to take them.  The summer containers are beginning to look established with the lobelia already flowering and the Wisley Vanilla Nemesia smelling wonderful.

Bertha is now sound again after her period of lameness so training has resumed and as she is no longer in season we can start training with others again.  She is turning into a truly lovely dog - and like Monty Don’s dear old Nigel she enjoys following me round the garden and lies beside the barrow where I am working quite peacefully.  Talking of Nigel, we have found one to help in the garden - he starts this coming Friday and I think will be of the greatest help until we can see if Dan will be fit enough to return to work in the winter.  He is actually helping out at a garden I have planted up recently and is both knowledgeable and hard working.  Particular areas of expertise are vegetables and fruit which will work brilliantly here!  We might even get some half decent potatoes next year if he is still with us. So that is a huge relief!  I have a spring in my step again today as I was beginning to flag a little seeing all the vegetation burgeoning too fast.

[the-kaedageist]

Will had been the one who’d come up with it, in the end. When he’d first made the comment, all those years ago, Orym had never realized he would someday wear it inked into his own flesh.

It was back when the thing between them had still been new, before it had settled into the comfort of time - those breathless days when Orym hadn’t quite believed what was happening, rolling over in his bed to stare at Will’s sleeping form in wonder. Before he’d learned to expect Will curled around him and then suddenly found him ripped away, forced to live without that embrace for the rest of his life.

Orym’s stomach had still sprouted butterflies whenever he’d spotted Will unexpectedly, across a crowded room or walking alone through Zephrah. He’d kept a folder with the letters Will sent him, each more affectionate than the last, the most recent of their number still able to make him blush. The nights spent together had not yet become habitual, each one a unique and well-trodden memory.

Love was strange, Orym had thought at the time - this thing between them may have been new, but his wellspring of feelings for Will had existed far longer, as familiar to him as breathing. He’d never realized that love, once requited, came with such dizzying fear, nor such hopeful euphoria. He’d think of Will for no reason and feel himself flush down the back of his neck; he’d remember one of their evenings and hide his face in his hands, too overcome with reliving the memory. He and Will had trained for the guard together for years, working together day in and day out. How could he have known a person so well and also been continually surprised by him, day after day?

That particular day, he’d met Will on a hill overlooking Zephrah. It was early in a humid summer evening, warmth already crawling its way down Orym’s back, and the hum of cicadas had provided a background chorus to their date. Will had brought a blanket and placed it on the grass, a simple picnic dinner laid out in front of them, and Orym found himself marveling at how easy it was to sit there and eat, carry on a normal conversation about work, even as he felt as though he was going to burst out of his own skin. Will would lean over with a grape between his fingers, pressing it against Orym’s lips in the allusion of a kiss, and Orym would be gone.

The hour had grown late, dusk bringing with it the first scattering of stars. Will recalled a childhood memory; Orym told a story about his day. They’d sipped sweet peach juice together, only available in season; the brightness of the flavor had matched the flare in Orym’s heart whenever he’d caught Will watching him.

“I love the stars,” Will said, staring up at the sky. His face had been handsome in profile, and Orym hadn’t want to tear his gaze from it.

Orym remembered laughing. “I know,” he’d replied fondly. Will had hardly talked of anything else when they’d met outside at night. Sometimes he’d walked into trees because he’d been too busy gazing up at the waterfall of starlight in the sky to notice his surroundings.

Orym loved him.

So even though he’d heard this before, he nudged himself closer to Will on the blanket, curling into him even in the summer heat and leaning back on his hands to mirror Will’s posture. “Teach me your favorites?”

A particularly bright star had winked on the horizon. Will smiled, pointing to it. “That’s the Raven’s Heart. The sign of the Matron. It rises in the east all summer, right at dusk. It’s how I know summer is here, when I start seeing it.”

“Did you know that the constellations change, depending on where you are on the planet?” Orym had asked, gazing up at the sky himself. Back then, he had not traveled beyond Zephrah; he’d never felt the urge, not until afterwards. “The Tempest told me once. But even though they’re in different places or can be seen at different times, they’re all in the same patterns.” He smiled. “There’s something comforting in that, to know that wherever you are on Exandria, you’re under the same stars.”

“And the same moons,” Will added, pointing at the faint red glow in the sky. “Look. It’s you.”

Orym had not been expecting such a comment, lured in by the cozy evening, the dreamy conversation. He hadn’t been sure how he’d felt about being compared to the malevolent-feeling red moon that occasionally hung on the horizon. “It’s me?” he repeated carefully.

Will had glanced over at him, his smile never fading. “Little moon,” he said. His finger moved to point at Catha. “Big moon. That’s me.”

Orym’s mouth had become suddenly dry. He could still remember the feeling of being overcome with the depth of his love for the man next to him. “Big moon, little moon,” he’d repeated, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as it felt. “I like it.” He’d paused for a moment. “Even if I have to be the ill omen.”

Will turned suddenly, leaning down to look deep in Orym’s eyes. He’d been backlit by moonlight; it glinted off of his hair. Without consciously deciding to do so, Orym had found himself reaching up to tangle one hand in his thick curls.

“You’re not an ill omen,” Will murmured. “Not to me.” He’d leaned down and kissed Orym, right there under Ruidus’s watchful eye, and Orym could still remember the shape of his smile as he returned the kiss. If there had been anyone who could have overcome an ill omen, it had been Will.

Orym stared up at Ruidus again, only a faint smudge of crimson on the horizon. It was ten years later - ten wonderful, horrible, grief-filled years. Ruidus had turned into something comforting, a reminder of Will that would last long after Orym’s own lifetime. Maybe it served as an ill omen for others - but for Orym, the little moon was nothing but happy memories and kisses in the dark.

“Chet and I have next watch,” said Ashton, startling Orym out of his reverie. He focused his poor vision in the dark, taking in the glint of starlight off of a familiar hammer. “Where’s Fearne?”

Orym soundlessly pointed in the direction of the clearing nearby, where Fearne had set herself up to dig joyfully through a bag she’d lifted from a shopkeeper in a nearby town, lit with a backlight of glowing fae fire that Orym had hoped wouldn’t attract local predators. “I think I wasn’t interesting enough,”  Orym confided with a smile.

“I’ll get her. You should get some sleep,” Ashton said, heading off to the clearing to tell Fearne as well. He stopped, pausing for a moment. “Don’t brood too much, okay?” They didn’t wait for an answer before heading off in Fearne’s direction.

Orym watched them go, feeling a denial that he’d been brooding on the tip of his tongue. Instead of arguing - Ashton would have just taken that as confirmation anyway - he made his way back to his bedroll, curling into it and wishing, again, for the feeling of Will’s arms around him, just one more time. It had been years. He was starting to suspect that he would carry that yearning for the rest of his life.

He felt someone larger settle at his side, radiating the comforting sense of a nearby source of warmth. “You can cuddle, if you like,” Fearne whispered. Orym didn’t answer as he curled into her, grateful for the incredible, undefinable friendships he’d never dreamed of having, back in a world where he’d been a simple married guard in Zephrah.

The crimson sphere of Ruidus flashed for the space of a heartbeat, just as Orym drifted into sleep.

#critical role #cr3 #orym of the air ashari #will of the air ashari #orym x will #big moon little moon #orym #cr will #bell's hells #bells hells #critical role fanfic #cr ficlets #critical role campaign 3 #campaign 3 #c3e17 #hmm what is this??? #dunno #I rolled over in bed at 5am with a vaccine fever and began to type this on my phone like I was possessed #enjoy #my fics #please ignore me changing the first line it was driving me nuts #episode posts #c3 eps

[starlessea2]

Deja Vu ( Carl Grimes )

A/N Here it is! This is my first Carl one-shot, so I hope you enjoy it. I loved his character, and I’ve had this idea for a while now. If you like my writing, please also check out @starlessea

Summary: After a few years, you return to a rebuilt Alexandria - only to find that everything there reminds you of Carl Grimes.

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee

You were just passing through.

That is what you told yourself.

There was no need to stop, to linger, to get pulled up at the roadside and wander into the forest so far that you couldn’t find your way back out again.

You just needed to pass through.

But instead, you hesitated, and your feet led you down a familiar path.

The dipping sun cascaded warm, golden light through the trees. It would be dusk soon, and you’d have to stop there for the night. Perhaps it was your own fault for dragging the journey out too long, or taking much smaller steps than you usually would.

But perhaps that had been intentional.

Maybe you didn’t just want to pass through, after all.

Leaves crunched beneath your boots as you navigated the thick overgrowth, as you stepped through the woods lost in utter nostalgia — counting the number of years it had been since you last came here.

Though, nothing seemed to have really changed; that tree trunk was still there, as was the fallen log you would use as a bench on warm summer evenings. If you squinted, you felt like you might even catch a glimpse of a few crumbs dusting the ground there — left behind from the days you’d spent eating stolen snacks from the pantry.

You’d been younger back then. Wide-eyed and naive, love-struck and helpless.

You walked some more, dazed and wandering through daydreams. The sunset made it look as though the auburn, autumn leaves had been set alight at your feet — burning like embers and scattering like ashes.

It was fitting, you realised, given how Alexandria had looked the last time you’d seen it.

Engulfed in flames.

You tried not to think about it — tried not to smell the smoke that wasn’t there — as you made your way through the clearing.

Then, you spotted it.

Camouflaged perfectly against the surrounding trees, a certain pine still managed to catch your eye. It was tall — taller than you remembered — but its bark remained the same.

You trailed your hand along it, feeling the rough divots, the way the wood dipped and cracked and splintered — just like scars atop of skin. Some parts had been battered by the elements, whilst others had just caved with time. Certain areas showed traces of the birds who’d pecked at it, or the wildlife that had scavenged from it.

But there was one part in particular that stood out from the rest.

Because it showed the handiwork of Carl Grimes.

Carved deep within the bark, with his old, rusted pocket knife, was both of your names — sealed with a heart.

The heart had been your idea, of course. A young, dumb, teenage idea. You could still remember the look on Carl’s face at the suggestion, before he did it anyway. He probably only carved it to keep you from pestering him, or to save you slicing open your fingertips by attempting it yourself.

The engraving had worn down over time, barely legible now as the pine tree had shed some skin — and taken a number of beatings from the regular storms that passed by. But you could still read it. You hadn’t forgotten it was there.

You took a few steps around the trunk, careful not to trip over its protruding roots. Then, your hand dipped in against the tree — into that hollow you were searching for — and you slid inside.

You were older now, and the cavern seemed a lot smaller than you recalled — making you wonder how the two of you had ever squeezed in there together at all. There were a few cobwebs overhead, but you batted them away — before your eyes rested on two other engravings scored deep into the bark above you.

They were height markings.

One for you and one for Carl.

Except, you didn’t match yours now; you’d grown since then.

You closed your eyes, scrunching them up tightly to block out all of the light. You tried to picture his face, hear the sound of his voice — hoping that they hadn't faded in your memories over the years. But, as the birds chirped outside the hollow, and the breeze rustled the grass, you realised there was no way you could have forgotten Carl Grimes.

Because when you opened your eyes, he was right there.

“You got taller,” he remarked — only his smirk visible under the shade of his hat.

But then he tipped his head up, and you met his eyes. Both of them, not a bandage in sight. He looked a little younger, hair fluffy — the ends having a slight curl to them. He looked as he did when he carved your initials into this very tree, and you glanced down at his hands, almost expecting to see that same pocket knife in them.

“Only a little,” you whispered back.

You swallowed the nervousness away, trying to trust your voice more as it ricocheted off the hollow carcass of the pine tree.

“Do you remember?” you asked, mustering up the courage to look straight ahead — at the boy whose face was not even inches away from yours. “Do you remember when you carved our names into this tree?” you continued, pointing to the score marks level with his head, “and my height next to yours?”

Back then, he’d insisted on wearing his hat when you measured him — promising that he was nearly that tall, anyway. But, you’d made him take it off, scolding him for cheating, and reassuring that he still had room to grow.

Your breath caught.

“You’re still shorter than me,” he replied, looking down at you with a warm, tentative smile.

And you nodded. “Only a little.”

His eyes were far more blue than you recalled. They were piercing — not a dull, stormy grey, but a vibrant, ocean blue. They looked like the summer days you’d spent in Alexandria, like a sky without a single cloud.

“It’s been a while,” the boy said, and you nodded once more.

“I know.”

Your words sounded shaky, as they echoed against the wood and settled at your ears. So, you cleared your throat and tried again.

“I’m sorry I haven’t come sooner,” you said, suddenly feeling the guilt lay thick on your shoulders, much heavier than Carl’s stare. “I miss you.”

The confession weighed on your tongue. It was something that was always on your mind, but always remained unsaid. After all, the people you surrounded yourself with now didn’t remember Carl Grimes — they’d never even known him.

But the boy still smiled, despite how your lip quivered.

“I’m right here,” he reassured you, flashing those eyes at you.

He was right there, you told yourself, and sighed.

“Yeah,” you responded, “you’re everywhere in this place.”

His smile faltered, and you could see a flicker of sadness behind those brilliant, blue eyes.

A breeze tapered in, and whistled through the cracks of the tree, making the spiderwebs tremble and your heart miss a beat.

“That’s why it’s so hard,” you admitted, and slid back out of the hollow.

The walls of Alexandria were even taller than before. They looked to have been built back up, and reinforced three times over. Yet, they were still recognisable. Part of you even expected to see Daryl Dixon manning the gate, or another face from the past looking down at you from the watchtowers.

But — unlike before — it was a hassle to get in.

You weren’t familiar, and neither were the guards. So many people had come and gone since you’d last stepped foot in Alexandria — so now it was you who seemed like a ghost, haunting those inside who tried to move on.

Though eventually, you were granted entrance.

The streets felt the same as they did when you were a teenager, running barefoot over the cobblestone and teasing the neighbours who shouted at you to slow down. A few houses were new, as were some of the fields growing crops. It looked as though they’d expanded a lot — and accommodated even more people than before.

Alexandria was bustling, but at the same time it felt empty.

“Your house burnt down,” Carl spoke, from beside you.

He pointed up at one of the buildings, perched on the end of a street which felt as familiar yet fleeting as a dream.

“But they built a new one in its place.”

You hummed, taking a few steps closer to it, close enough to see the second-story window. Except, this time there was no make-shift ladder hanging from it — poorly tied together from bed sheets.

“We’d climb out of the windows every night to meet each other,” you muttered, as if you were talking to yourself.

Well, as if you’d finally remembered that you were.

“And I’d always stick the landing,” you laughed, glancing back at the boy with an amused expression. “There was never a time where I didn’t have scraped knees.”

He chuckled in return, and the sound made tears prick at your eyes — but you blinked them away before he could catch them.

“I did try to help,” he protested, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you fell on me,” he retorted, “nearly broke my neck.”

He tried to scowl, but his lip wobbled — and gave him away. Neither of you could contain your laughter at the other’s expression.

Just like when you were kids.

“I did, didn’t I?” you cried, beaming from ear to ear. “I’d forgotten about that,” you confessed, staring back up at that freshly painted house.

But then, you recalled the next part of the story, and the tears brimmed at your eyes once again — but from pure joy this time.

“Do you- do you remember your dad’s face when he caught us?” you asked, wheezing between your words.

As a young girl, nothing scared you more than the vision of Rick Grimes at midnight, with his holstered pistol and frown-lines so deep they made your daring nature crumble.

Carl groaned, and shook his head. “Now that’s something I’d rather forget.”

But you went on — doing a double-take around the area as if to check for yourself that the officer wasn’t there, looming over your shoulder.

“Carl Grimes!” you yelled, imitating his father’s booming voice. A passerby gave you a strange glance, but the light behind Carl’s eyes was worth every second of judgement. “I better not catch you sneaking out again!” you scolded with a southern twang, wagging your finger in his direction.

The young boy grinned at you.

It wasn’t that sheepish smile you were used to seeing from him, on those night’s you’d sneak out together and he’d steal glimpses of you when he thought you weren’t looking.

No.

This was a full, brilliant smile. One which made your heart hurt.

“You haven’t changed at all,” he murmured quietly, below his breath.

And your warm expression faltered under the clinical luminance of the street lamp overhead — which made his skin look a sickly, pale grey.

Neither have you, you’d nearly answered, but instead remained silent.

The sun had almost set completely as you walked the perimeter of the wall — trying to find the place you used to escape from.

They’d probably boarded it up by now, you realised.

Yet, you continued on through the wispy grass, lingering further and further into the shadows.

“What are you looking for?” Carl asked, following at your heels.

You ran your hand along the metal walls, feeling the divots in the slats, and catching your fingertips on the nuts and bolts that protruded.

“It’s somewhere around here,” you told him, briefly closing your eyes to try and recall how the place had looked before.

Then, you saw it.

It was barely noticeable, really, but still too suspicious to slip your glance.

You toed the rock with your boot, flipping it over until you saw the painted side. It was what the two of you used to mark the part in the fence where you could sneak out — if you had the key to the padlock, that is.

The stone was covered with moss now, and the orange paint had chipped away, but it was still there — buried under thick grass.

“This is where you tried to kiss me,” you announced, your breath forming a cloud in the cool, nighttime air.

You looked back at Carl with a soft smile, only to find him shuffling on the balls of his feet — as though he’d rather forget the memory.

“But Daryl had just come back from a hunt and yelled at us,” you whispered, too tired this time to laugh.

“I know,” he nodded, watching as you bent down to thumb over that orange stone.

It crumbled beneath your touch — making you realise just how much time had passed.

And how cruel a thing time was.

“Do you remember,” you asked, barely above a whisper, “how much your hands were shaking?”

Your eyes trailed down towards the boy’s palms, but you didn’t dare wonder whether they were warm.

“They felt like butterfly wings against my cheek,” you told him, and waited.

Except, he didn’t say anything back.

You whipped around to search for him, fearing that he’d just left again, disappeared without saying goodbye. But, you stumbled into something — someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going!” you quickly apologised, holding your hands up. “Who are-”

You stopped, letting the words hang in the night sky as your lip trembled over them.

“Judith?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer. “Judith Grimes?”

The young girl narrowed her eyes at you, making an expression you’d seen only once before — usually worn by another Grimes kid who was suddenly nowhere to be found.

She had long, chestnut hair, with a braid on one side, and had grown into Lori’s eyes — as well as her brother’s hat.

“How do you know my name?” she demanded, but her voice was too high and too soft to be intimidating.

Her fingers thumbed over the knife at her hip, awaiting your response. You couldn’t exactly blame her for being cautious. It was understandable. You were unfamiliar to her — almost as much as she was now to you.

“You look just like him,” you stammered. “And you’re-” you sighed, collecting yourself. “The hat,” you explained, pointing to it, “you’re wearing the hat.”

The young girl didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t have to be.

You heard footsteps approaching, sounding exactly the same as they had done when you were a kid.

“Michonne-” you greeted, as she emerged from the shadows.

Out of the few things that hadn’t changed in Alexandria, Michonne was definitely one of them. She looked the same as she did on the day that you left — except now her face wasn’t tearstained, nor were her clothes caked in blood.

She walked forward, placing a hand on Judith���s shoulder to calm her. Then, she met your eyes — and her expression made you crumble nearly as fast as Rick’s used to.

“Well, would you look at that?” she smiled, taking in the sight of you under the dim moonlight. “You sure have grown up.”

You nodded, before letting your gaze shyly drop to your feet.

“It’s been a while,” she coaxed, warmly.

A familiar guilt bubbled up, until you could feel it on your tongue.

“So I’ve heard,” you replied, smally.

A breeze blew and rustled the leaves at your foot, uncovering more of that amber-painted rock. The woman glanced down at it, and then back at you.

“I was hoping I could stay the night,” you explained, prompted by her eyes. “Since it’s too dark to keep going.”

Michonne didn’t hesitate.

“Of course,” she replied, squeezing your own shoulder with her other hand. “You’re always welcome here.”

Her touch felt foreign — almost like you’d expected it to pass straight through you. After all, Alexandra seemed like a ghost town now.

Or perhaps you were the ghost, lingering about where you didn’t belong.

“You know,” the woman started, eyeing the way you trembled beneath her palm, “you don’t have to leave in the morning.”

She brushed Judith’s hair behind her ear as she spoke, looking down upon her lovingly.

“We were-” she paused, as if debating her next words. “We were going to visit the church,” she announced, watching your expression carefully. “To bring some flowers to Carl,” she explained. “You could come if-”

“No,” you interrupted.

The young girl flinched at the harshness of your tone, and Michonne’s eyes widened for a brief second, before softening again.

“I’m sorry, I just-” you stuttered, fumbling with your words for an excuse.

“It’s okay,” Michonne dismissed, letting her hand drop from your shoulder. “You don’t have to explain.”

You nodded, but still felt guilty for not doing so.

In truth, you didn’t want to pray at his grave because you were more than happy to be haunted by his ghost.

The ghost of his memory, that is.

So, you watched Carl’s family turn their back on you and leave — just as you had done to them all those years back.

The moon was high overhead, casting its pale glow over Alexandria, and Carl Grimes stood at your side, shaking his head as you looked on sadly.

That night, you clambered up to the roof of the gazebo.

It had burnt down during the attack, but you’d been told that Michonne and Rick rebuilt it afterwards — in remembrance of Carl. It didn’t look exactly how it did before, but once you laid back atop that roof, staring up into the starry sky, that didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the view.

“Everything here reminds me of you,” you told him, peering over at the boy lying beside you. “Even this sky.”

His eyes were bright — shining as they stared up at the flickering stars.

“I still have your letter,” you confessed. “All of the words have smudged now, and the edges are frayed. But I still remember it.”

Your breath was white against the black sky, floating in clouds above you. You turned your head to the side, looking only at him.

“Did you really mean what you said?”

Carl’s eyes flickered to yours, and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

His hair was splayed back on the roof slats, quivering in the breeze. You swore you could almost feel it tickling your neck — but you knew better than that.

“I know you’re just in my memories,” you breathed, not missing the way his smile sank at your words. “Something I’ve conjured up from deja vu and refuse to let go of.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you carried on before he could.

“And that’s okay,” you told him, attempting a smile of your own.

You let your head fall back. The sky was so beautiful. It was another thing that hadn’t changed — despite all of the time that had passed. No matter how different Alexandria looked now, how much bigger and more vibrant it had become, its sky remained the same.

Just like the boy beside you.

“I miss you every day, Carl Grimes,” you whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“I know,” he replied, looking up at that same sky.

You fell asleep atop of the gazebo that night, right at the heart of Alexandria. The breeze was gentle against your skin, the leaves rustled on the hollow trees, the residents were tucked away safely in their beds.

And you laid there, alone-

Lost in the feeling of deja vu, and haunted by a boy still very much alive in your memories.

When the golden, autumn light woke you up the next morning — settling warmly over your skin as you soaked it up on that gazebo — you began to think that maybe you didn’t have to just pass through the community.

Perhaps you would stay in Alexandria for another day.

And maybe even the day after that.

End.

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, if you enjoy my writing, you might want to buy me a coffee or commission me - tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N This is the first time I’ve written for a character other than Daryl. I really hope you like it. And I’d really appreciate some feedback on what you thought - so I can improve! This piece was inspired by the songs ‘Before you go’ by Lewis Capaldi, and ‘Deja vu’ by Olivia Rodrigo.

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Tag List:

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#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes fanfiction #caryl grimes imagine #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd fanfiction #twd imagines #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #fanfiction #carl x reader #carl x you #caryl x y/n #twd drabbles

[libermachinae]

For the Spotify writing meme! Predictably I will request Prowl so uh… 3 + Prowl.

I Must Cry Out Loud - Mother Mother

It started as a little pain, a sting like some dust had gotten caught in his fans. Recognizing the feeling for what it was, Prowl quietly bound it up, tying it off with a knot tight enough to cut it off from the surrounding area. The feeling burned. It wriggled. It pulsed in time with the rhythm of his internal mechanisms.

But it did not spread.

“So, yeah. That’s all. It just doesn’t feel like home,” Tumbler finished, dragging his fifth finger through the bead of thick, blue energon that had fallen to the table. It rolled with his touch, dividing into progressively smaller drops like a pixelated smear. He could probably guess how much the full drink had cost, but he wouldn’t ask.

The dim light of the bar kissed his plating with warm tones and soft shadows. The ambient conversations were active, but not too loud, just enough to let you sink in and become a part of the background noise. Prowl hadn’t spent any of his on duty hours here, but working trips still left a little time to relax and explore the city. Prowl had combed through it to find a spot just like this.

“It could,” he said. Tumbler had a romantic spark, and Prowl knew he had it in him to love the liveliness, the streets packed with unlicensed vendors, the tangy smell of the energon pumps. Prowl had stayed awake from dusk until dawn to check whether any stars pushed through the light pollution (they did) and how the sun caught the particular blend of heavy machinery fumes (slanting, copperish, occasionally with a snap of green). It was the sort of sunrise Tumbler would fantasize every night about getting up early to see, and miss the next morning when extra recharge was suddenly far more appealing.

Tumbler didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he shifted in the booth, coming around to press himself to Prowl’s side. Prowl automatically put an arm around his side, drawing his thumb in the tight circles that would coax Tumbler into relaxing against him. Tumbler’s plating had the faintest hint of texture, grime from the laps they had raced around the Security Services track. He had planned for them to clean up back at the hotel before heading out again, but they’d stayed too late, time spinning away like a marble in a vortex, and had had to make do with a quick rinse in the available wash racks. The ones available in the Iacon precinct were nicer, but both of them knew better than to expect luxury in their lines of work. Prowl had thought he was still making a good impression.

“I don’t know,” Tumbler said, his voice muffled slightly by his mask pressed against Prowl’s shoulder. “I just think Iacon will always be home to me.”

“Iacon is a city,” Prowl countered. “Its crime, pollution, and poverty rates are just as—”

“Don’t, Prowl.” The softness of Tumbler’s voice was more intentional. “Not right now.”

So Prowl didn’t. He sat and thought, and tried to not let his processor spin too far forward with plans he didn’t want to have to make. Without his conscious effort, he could feel his processor archiving possibilities and reprioritizing objectives according to whatever was left. Behind his eyes, his entire world was shifting on its axis, lights and shadows crawling over his mental map and recreating the shapes of the geography, forming something new.

But on the outside, Tumbler was warm at his side, and the bar smelled smoky and familiar. He held on for as long as he could.

#i think this is the part where i'm forced to admit more than half my list is mother mother #maccadam #prowl #chromedome #prowldome #my writing #ficlet

[forever-rogue]

Amazing thank you for considering my request! It’s an Oberyn x reader fic, where they are married but she had been kidnapped and presumed dead till one day he finds her in kings landing as a servant and prisoner to Cersi and the Lannister’s. Then he does whatever it takes to get her back and the rest is up to you! Whatever you want to do I’m fine with.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn sighed as he sat near the fountains in the lush gardens of his Dornish palace. He played aimlessly with a berry in his hand, plucked from the overflowing bowl that had been placed by him.They didn’t taste as sweet as they used to. It was a solemn day for him, and everyone around him knew to stay away and weary of the Prince.

It was your name day today. Your third one since you'd been taken from his clutches. 

He still thought of you every single day. Oberyn had searched far and wide, scouring every part of the Seven Kingdoms for you, but he'd never found you again. It seemed like every time he got close or some sort of lead as to where you were everything was ripped away again. It was like you keep slipping through his fingers. 

The Prince had been through a torrent of emotions, but at the end of it all, he just missed you. He would have given up again to have you back, even after all this time. Things had never been the same.

»»————-　♡　————-««

A yawn escaped your lips as you tended to the laundry of the royal household. You'd been up since before dawn tending to duties around the Red Keep, and your body was screaming for a nap. But there was no rest for anyone on the small staff and Cersei ensured that you would never be able to have a moment of rest.

It was her, after all, that had ruined your life several years ago when she'd found you at a vulnerable moment and taken you away from Oberyn and Dorne. There had never really been any real reason either - she just had a particular disdain for the prince and would do anything to hurt him as much as possible. 

And that had turned into kidnapping and keeping you hostage and in servitude at the Red Keep under a false alias. At first you'd tried to fight, tried to resist, and even run away but you'd never even gotten close. The times you did, or tried to defy her, you were met with grueling and torturous punishments. At some point your heart and spirit had broken, and your body seemed permanently bruised and aching.

You still held out hope that one day you'd see Oberyn again. That one day you would be reunited with your love, in this life of another. 

But days like today, your name day, made it hard to keep that hope alive. No one even remembered what day it was - once it had been filled with nothing but love and celebration. Now it was a long day of work, from dawn till dusk and beyond.

"Hey, girl," you cringed at the sound of Cersei's voice. She knew your name but refused to address you by it, "there's more work for you to do. The Prince and his retinue have decided to come for a visit to King's Landing for some round-table discussions. We must prepare. You remember him, right? Of course you do...I doubt you'd forget your husband just like that."

Your shoulders rose and fell with effort as you tried to keep your composure. She was doing this on purpose, every word picked carefully to cause you to suffer. She wanted you to lash out to yell at her so she could get mad back and use it as an excuse for punishment. 

And you were tempted, so tempted, to give her a piece of your mind. But you stopped yourself and continued on with your laundry, scrubbing at it as thoroughly as possible. You were not going to give her the satisfaction. You were not going to give her the time of day on your name day.

Instead you tried to conjure up all the happy memories you could, remembering how Oberyn would always go all out on your name day, how he would throw such lavish celebrations and shower in you in love and affection. But not today. Not anymore. But the ghosts of days gone were enough to get you by.

You remained silent, only offering a nod in acknowledgment and eventually she left after informing you of all the things that would need to be done.

Maybe...just maybe you'd get to see your love one last time.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Naturally, the entirety of the Red Keep was buzzing with the arrival of the Dornish Prince, along with other lords from around Westeros; Oberyn was always the star of the show however. When he arrived at the castle, you tried looking everywhere for him, hoping for even a glimpse of his handsome face. Even if you weren’t able to talk to him, you wanted one look - one moment to make sure he was alive and well. 

But Cersei, ever the vile and repugnant pseudo-queen, made sure to give you tasks that kept you far, far away from him. She let you get so close, so close to a momentary reunion with your husband before preventing you from seeing him at all. It was hopeless, and the little bit of spark you had left in your soul seemed to dissipate. At one point you were almost positive that you had heard his laughter; a beautiful, warm sound. 

You let the memories of those beautiful sounds, how often you heard softly in your ear when you were alone with your husband, get you through it all. You’d resigned yourself to not seeing him going. 

But then one evening, you were working late in the kitchens, preparing things for the next day when you were a throat clear from the entrance. Rolling your eyes to yourself, ready to be fully annoyed, you tried and almost stopped breathing when you spotted Oberyn standing there and watching you closely. Your mouth opened and closed your mouth a few times, hardly able to believe your eyes - there he was, your husband, alive and in the flesh. 

“Pardon the interruption,” he sauntered in, robes swirling behind him as he approached you, “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had any spare berries or other fruit.”

“O-Oberyn,” your voice cracked as he walked over to him as well, leaving only a small gap between the two of you. His soft, dark eyes studied you intently and you could tell he was processing something. What if...what if he didn’t remember you? But no...he would never forget you, right?”

“Yes,” he laughed lightly, “that’s generally what they call me. I-I’m sorry to be so bold and forward, but you look just like my wife used to.”

“Oberyn,” your lips trembled as you felt the back of your eyes prickle with tears,”i-i-it’s me. It’s me, I swear it, I would never lie to you.”

“I have looked for my wife far and wide for going on three years and have never been able to find her,” he whispered as his voice cracked, “it would be the most cruel joke to play on someone if you did not mean it. P-please tell me you’re not lying - please tell me the gods are not so cruel as to play such a joke on me.”

“My moon and stars,” as soon as the words left your lips, emotion overwhelmed him as his lips trembled with emotion, “it is me, I swear it - your sunshine. Please tell me how I can prove it to you.”

“Tell me the first thing you ever said to me when we met,” his heart was racing with nerves as he tried not to get too ahead of himself, “when I approached you.”

A few years had rolled down your cheeks as you laughed lightly at the memory. Needless to say, when you were first introduced, you had never envisioned yourself loving or marrying him at any point, “you came up to me with so much swagger and you told me your name and then you said although I’m sure you already know who I am. I’m hoping you’ll give me the chance to make a proper introduction in my chambers this evening. You had so much confidence, so much nerve. You were so bold and brash, and yet...I did not turn you down.”

“You did slap me though,” he reminded you as nodded in laughter. As soon as the words had left his lips you had slapped him across the face, surprising both of you. You’d spent that first night, and countless others in his bed, “you always were something else.”

“Oberyn,” you reached up, almost hesitant as you longed to touch his cheek. He did you one better and almost instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tightly as possibly against this body, afraid to ever let you go again. A sob wracked your body as held onto him and buried your face into his chest, “Oberyn, my love. I never thought I’d see you again. I hoped and I hoped and I just never knew. “

“I have never stopped looking for you,” he promised as he pulled back and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, “I never gave up the hope that one day I would find you. I just never expected it to be like this.”

“You found me,” you pulled back and stared at him with wide doe eyes, hardly believing that you were looking into the face of your husband. After all this time, he was still exactly the same as always and gods - you had missed him so much, “I hoped and hoped and hoped that one day I would get to look upon your face again.”

“I will always find you,” he whispered as he placed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “in this life or the next or the one after that. Our souls belong together - I knew few things in life, but this I know.”

“I love you beyond what words could ever describe, my moon and stars,” after all this time, you were still just as in love with him as you had ever been. It was like no time had passed at all, “I’ve been here this entire time. The wretched woman took me - and for what? To make us both suffer all because she cannot stand us and our family. We have what she never will - what she can only dream of - love. True love. Every single day without you has been a cruel sort of torture on its own. I dreamed of you often, and thought of you every day, it was the only thing that got me through the day. My dreams came true.”

“As have mine, my sweetest sunshine,” your prince gently took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. A soft sigh escaped your lips at the intimate gesture, “I will bring you back home with me, I swear it. Back to Dorne - our home, where you belong at my side.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words, to go back home for so long,” the images of your golden home in the sun kissed land of Dorne flooded your mind, and a warmth spread throughout your body; home. It was so close, “please don’t leave me here, Oberyn. I cannot bear it another moment, especially now that I know you are alive and well.”

“I will do whatever it takes to bring you home,” there was a searing intensity to his promise as you just nodded at him, already feeling like the weight of the world was off of your shoulders, “we will never be apart again. Go to your chambers and gather anything you have that you might want to bring home with us.”

“It should be but a few moments,” you knew there was just about nothing you desired to bring back; there were a few pieces of jewelry that you’d managed to hide away. One was a beautiful necklace Oberyn had gifted you on a name day shortly after your marriage, along with a set of moon and star rings, “where shall I meet you?”

“Meet me at the gates to the castle,” he instructed as you nodded, “I’ll have Jeron meet you there to protect you. I’ll let them know we are to return to Dorne at once - and that’s after I give the lion queen a piece of my mind.”

“Please be careful, my love,” you were ready to beg him if necessary, afraid that you were going to lose him again, “and hurry.”

“I will see you soon,” he pressed a hurried kiss to your lips as he almost ran in the direction of Cersei’s chambers, “my sunshine.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Oberyn was many things, including rash and stubborn; he’d calmed down over the years, mellowed out with age, but today he saw nothing but blood and fire. The Red Viper didn’t bother to knock on the vicious queen’s doors before barging in. For once there were no guards surrounding her chambers, whether luck or sheer coincidence he didn’t know - or care. 

Cersei let out a small shriek of surprise as she looked up from the looking glass atop her vanity. A deep frown formed on her face as she realized it was Oberyn, but before long it turned into a look of sheer, disgusting joy. She knew immediately that he had discovered her wretched secret, “my, my, my. What a most pleasant surprise, from my favorite Dornish Prince.”

“I could - should - kill you for what you have done,” he was seething with rage as his hands flitted to his waist belt and he traced over the dagger at his side. It would have been so easy, so quick to just kill her then and there. He should have done it; gods knew he wanted to. But he stayed his blade, as much as it pained him to do so. But he knew if he did, the consequences would have been much more grave. As such he pushed down his anger and decided to channel the rage into words, “you are the most vile, wretched woman in these Seven Kindgoms, if not the entirety of the world. How dare you try something like - stealing my wife from me for three years. It took me longer than I cared for to find her, but I never would have stopped looking.”

“Consider it a fun little game,” her little smirk was enough to make him reconsider his choice, “and now you’ve won. You can have your pathetic little wife and take her back to that savage land you call home.”

“You dare to speak to me like this,” he approached her, the dagger slipping out of its holster as he clutched it tightly in his hand. Cersei gave him a s sickly sweet smile and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing her long golden hair in a firm grip, and placing the dagger against her throat. It took her by such surprise that she didn’t have time to react, “you are nothing, Cersei Lannister. Even less than the fleas that live on stray dogs. You will never be a true queen - you are an imposter, a fake. One day everyone will see you for what you are worth, and it will be your undoing. You will be your own biggest downfall and it will be my pleasure to watch your demise.”

“You won’t kill me,” she breathed quietly, feeling the pressure of the knife against her throat. He sighed heavily but made a small sound of agreement. 

“You’re right,” he confirmed, “I will dream about it though. I will not be your executioner  - that would be a fate much too kind. The death you deserve is far worse than anything I could ever deliver. But let me make one thing extremely clear - if you ever come near my wife, or any of my family ever again, I will not hesitate. This is your one and only warning. She has lost three years of her life because of her twisted little game, and I will not stand for it. You stay out of Dorne and our affairs, and we will stay far from here.”

“You’re weak - a fool,” she insisted with a snarl, “love has made you soft. The Red Viper? What a joke.”

“You’re wrong,” he whispered, “love does not make one weak - it makes them stronger. It is everything. How pathetic and sad that you will never know that.”

Before she could say anything else, he pressed the sharp valiaryn steel against her tender skin and nicked it just enough to draw blood; not enough to do any permanent damage, but enough to leave a lasting impression. As soon as he pushed her away, she clutched at her throat and drew in a ragged breath. 

Oberyn stormed out of her chambers as he almost sprinted back to meet you at the entrance to the castle. Despite knowing in his heart that you would be there, he was still nervous for a moment. Until he saw you standing there and waiting, chatting quietly with Jeron, his most trusted companion. His heart melted at the sight; he felt more complete - whole - again. 

When you heard him, you turned and offered him the sweetest smile; the same one he had fallen in love with. He rushed to your side as you held open your arms to him and he almost knocked you over in excitement, “my love.”

“Come on, my sweetest girl,” he held you tightly against his chest, “it’s time to go home. Finally. And we are never, ever coming back here again.”

“I love you so much, Oberyn,” you whispered against his lips, “thank you for saving me.”

“Always,” he whispered softly, “I will always find you. I love you more than you will ever know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[simsadventures]

Gilded: Chapter 3: Power Over Me

Mobster!Steve x Reader

Summary: What more can you do than have a rad bachelorette party and then move to a house full of mobsters. It all sounds fun, right? Well, not according to your experience. 

Warnings: mobster AU, drinking, swearing, surveillance, angst, smidge of fluff, violence, mention of bruises, fear 

Word Count: 5737

A/N: A little late, I know I know, but I wanted to make sure the chapter was exactly how I wanted it. I keep thinking I will get to the wedding, and then some situations occur and I know I have to concentrate on them a little more. Than being said, I think we will finally see the wedding next! What do you think of this part? Did you like it? Is the reader a little less annoying? Let me know xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

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The scene was supposed to be joyous, but, for some reason, the majority of what you felt was filled with sadness. Not for any particular reason, it was just the weigh of your decision finally settling in your heart and the realization hitting you that you would indeed be getting married in a week to a total stranger, who was a mobster, none less. 

You chose it, you had to remind yourself as tears fought their way in your eyes. It was just momentary sadness overpowering you, the feeling that your wedding wouldn’t be filled with people loving and caring for you, that the day would be more about showing off Steve’s power over the world than showing his love for his new bride, for whom he had none. And you would be there almost alone: no parents, no extended family, and a very few close friends. Whom you loved dearly, of course, and without whom you wouldn’t even be considering taking such a step. You needed them there, and not just the two lovable idiots you lived with. 

It was also people you’ve come to love during your university years as well as some coworkers, like Christy and Anja. Together it made around 15 people, which was actually a lot more than you had anticipated, but still. It would have to be Aidan walking you down the aisle, and just the mere thought made a choked sob escape your lips. 

The sound brought the attention of the room to you, and before you knew it, you were enveloped in a bone-crushing hug from all the people there, everyone telling you that you should be happy, that this was a good thing. Of course, nobody except Caroline and Aidan knew the reality behind the wedding. All they thought was happening was that you fell madly in love with Steve Rogers, and now you two were tying the knot. You even overhead Aisha say that you were definitely pregnant, otherwise, you wouldn’t have rushed into it like this. You tried to assure everyone that there was no pregnancy at all, but, of course, people believed what they wanted, and you lacked the energy to go around the room and speak to them individually, denying what they formed in their heads. 

It was Friday night, and you were in your apartment, surrounded by all those people who would come to your wedding. You sent a list of names to Steve that afternoon, and, after what you assumed was a background check on all of them, he agreed that yes, these 15 people could actually come. And when he did, you called an emergency meeting at your apartment, using it both as a way of inviting them to the wedding and as a kind of bachelorette party, where all you wanted to do was to drink heavily, eat a disgusting amount of carbs and pass out around dusk. Safe to say, all of your friends had been in, and by the time it was 11 PM, you were all tipsy, and people started to dance. Some (ehm, ehm, Caroline) even on a table, which was hilarious to the rest of you. 

The sadness came and went all evening, but you were determined not to let it ruin your night. So, every time you felt like it was creeping up on you again, you just told somebody and let them hug you until you were feeling better. 

Then, somebody came up with the idea to play Never Have I Ever, and since the tequila still burned in your veins, you agreed immediately. And so the game started. You were roaring like a pride of lions, each answer louder than the previous ones, but the most fun arose from telling each other funny stories. 

“Ok, so this one time I was blowing off my boyfriend, right? And you know how much I hate the taste of sperm, and he knows it as well, but this one time he really insisted on my swallowing, and so when he finally came, I squeaked and pointed somewhere behind him so that I could spit the cum to glass under the table, and when he turned around I showed him my mouth, void of any liquid, and he looked super proud,” your friend Naila laughed as she told the story to the question: never have I ever swallowed cum. 

The night was flowing smoothly, and soon, you saw that it was getting somehow lighter outside. And, sure enough, when you looked out of the window, you saw that the sunrise was coming in mere minutes. 

“Guys, guys! The sunrise is here. Let’s go to the roof to enjoy it,” you yelled even though half of the people were already fast asleep. The few of you who were still barely alive, which was around 5 of you, staggered towards the door and crawled up the stairs to the highest levels, and when you opened the last door, you had New York underneath you. 

You were wasted and exhausted, but the sight poured new life into you as you watched the early orange rays shine on one building at a time, waking up the city that never slept. It was magical, and it took your breath away. You felt your worries melting away as you saw a new day coming, and you thought it was a new day with many possibilities and hopes for you. You had nothing to lose, and Steve proved to you that he would, indeed, take care of you if need be. All would be if you just played your part and learned enough about Steve to be able to escape his wrath. 

The exhaustion then hit your body just as the ray hit your face, and you waved at the drunk group watching the sunrise, each of them in their own realm of thoughts, and soon enough, you sauntered back to your room, where you fell asleep just like the rest of the bachelorette party. 

A piercing tone woke you up with a start, and, for a second, you didn’t even know where you were, what time it was, or even what fucking century it was. The throbbing in your head prevented your brain from functioning properly, and so you rummaged through the pile of clothes next to your bed, fishing for what was obviously your phone. Gosh, how you hated the ringtone, and you reminded yourself to just mute your phone altogether because then nothing like this could happen again. 

You picked up without so much as looking at the screen and just sneered a harsh what into the speaker. 

“Well, good morning to you too, honey,” you heard Steve’s smug voice and rolled your eyes so hard the pain in your head increased. “Is this the way to greet your future husband? I don’t fucking think so,” he continued, and a considerable part of you contemplated just hanging up on him and his annoyingly sexy voice. 

“Steve, I have no fucking idea what time it is, but it’s definitely not time for you to call me and want me to be nice. Give me a few good hours of sleep, and then we can talk, ok?” You hoped this would do it, but from the silence on the other side, you assumed he wouldn’t let be just yet. 

“What happened? Did your bachelorette party get a little out of hand, and you went to sleep only after sunrise?” 

You gasped, shocked how he knew any of it, and for the first time, the fog in front of your brain lifted a little bit. You checked the time, and seeing it was only 9 AM, you assumed that asshole woke you up on purpose if he knew so much about your nightly activities. 

“How the fuck-“

“Language!” He yelled suddenly, and you flinched at the intensity of his voice. “I know everything, and I told you I would have somebody keeping an eye on you at all times. You’re only lucky the guy sleeping next to you is gay, you’d be in so much trouble otherwise, honey,” Steve spat, and the only sound you could muster was a long huff, as you regretted ever being born. 

“What do you want, Steve? If you know so much, you must know that I’m beat and all I wanna do is sleep, with a guy in my bed or without him. So, if you have something to tell me, please do, otherwise, have a good day, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

“We’re gonna have so much fun together, you and I, Y/N. I’m calling because I wanted to let you know that your room is prepared and ready for you and that your bodyguard will pick you up at exactly 8 PM, so don’t be late. Clint will also help you carry all things you need. I’ll send you his number so that you can be in touch with him. Oh, and honey? Take some aspirin and go to sleep, you sound like you need it,” even through the phone, you could hear him smirk as he hung up and let you on your own once again. Thank God.

“Who was it?” Aidan asked sleepily from the other side of the bed, and you just grumbled some response, not really sure if he understood what you meant, but when he hummed and patted your outstretched hand, you took it as yes, I understand you mean your future husband Steve Rogers, nice talk. 

The phone signalled you received a text, and when you looked at it, it was your bodyguard’s phone number and a directive, telling you to go to sleep already, because the dark circles under your eyes didn’t suit you. 

Oh, how you wanted to kill this man already. He got on your nerves more easily than anybody ever before, and for a brief moment, you wondered why he affected you so. You didn’t even know him, and you shouldn’t let him tossing you back and forth, but here you were, pissed because you could just imagine how proud he was of himself that he woke you up and told you what to do so many times in such a short call. 

Sighing, you got up from the bed and went to check the window to see if you could spot the nosy bodyguard ratting on you to Steve. You needed to have a word with him because he just couldn’t go running to Steve every time you blinked. 

Looking around the street, you tried to spot a strange vehicle, one that didn’t fit into the street you grew to know so well. And, sure enough, there was a large SUV, much like the one you had driven with Steve before, and you noticed that the windows were tilted. Since your apartment was on the first floor, anybody from the street had a great view right into your flat, and because you passed out totally exhausted, you didn’t have the time, nor did you remember to shut your blinds. 

You huffed and shut them now, cursing Steve and his nosiness because he wasn’t making your life any easier, and you weren’t even married yet. The year in front of you would be annoying and difficult, but maybe it would make you feel alive again. 

Shaking your head, you didn’t let the memories flood your brain as you strode back to your back, plopped on it belly-first and fell straight asleep.

“Are you sure it’s everything?” Aidan looked around your now half-empty room, except for the furniture that you knew you wouldn’t need. Steve promised to give you a furnished room, and you took his word for it, so you just took the essentials, like your clothes and sentimental stuff. Marie Condo would have been proud because you still managed to get rid of a few things that didn’t spark joy!

“Yeah, and even if I left something here, I could still come, you know? It’s not like I’m never seeing you or this place again. I’ll still be like a 30-minute ride away,” you smiled soothingly at him, but he just shook his head, obviously fighting all the emotions swirling in his heart. 

“Alright, alright. No crying. I’ll call you guys when I’m all settled, and Steve actually lets me be by myself, and I’ll show you the room, ok?”

Both Aiden and Caroline nodded speechlessly and then pulled you in a group hug. 

“You sure you wanna do it? We can still make it seem like we kidnapped you and take you somewhere to Mexico, or Argentina, or wherever he wouldn’t find you,” Caroline whispered, and you laughed through the tears fighting their way out of your eyes. 

“I’ll be fine, you’ll see. We will all have so much fun, and before we know it, the year is over, and I’m back here with you guys, having lived a little,” you smirked, and they nodded reassuringly, not really sure if it really was the best way to live a life, but they didn’t want to push you again. Your heart was set, and they both knew there was nothing they could do now. Except, of course, really kidnapping you. 

“Miss Y/L/N, we should go. The boss said we should be there at 9 PM at the latest, and I would prefer if we could be a little early,” Clint said professionally, but you could see that he was afraid of what would Steve do had you arrived late. You didn’t want to start this weird-ass journey by pissing your future husband or making him hurt his employees (you didn’t know whether he would actually do that, but just to be on the safe side, since he did cut off a guy’s finger a mere few days ago). 

You nodded and stepped from your best friends, looking at them and smiling brightly. You didn’t want any teary goodbyes, so you just showed them thumbs up and followed Clint out of the door. You knew there would be some tears when you left but didn’t think they would come as early as on the first step from your apartment. 

Fortunately, there weren’t that many steps to go before you were out of the building and rushed into the SUV by Clint. It was dark already, but you didn’t want him to see you cry, so you swiftly pulled out your sunglasses and put them on, not saying a word to Clint as he started the car and pulled it into New York’s night traffic. The lights around you were almost blinding, and for a moment, you were glad you had the glasses on, but then another wave of regret and sadness hit you, and you had a hard time keeping in the sobs. Scratching your arms, you stared out of the window and took a few calming breaths, telling yourself to get a grip because you were about to enter the lion’s den, and you couldn’t show them any emotions. 

You knew Clint knew what was going on, but he was gentleman enough not to comment on it. Still, you needed to make sure he understood this little episode was just between the two of you. 

“Can I ask you something, Clint?” You said suddenly and saw his eyes flickering between the road and the mirror, meeting your eyes for a moment. 

“Of course, Miss Y/L/N. However, I should warn you, I am not allowed to give you certain information,” he said formally, and you nodded knowingly. 

“Yeah, right. If I asked you to keep a little secret from your boss, would you keep it?” You asked and nibbled on your lower lip anxiously. 

He seemed to have thought for a second before he nodded his head in a manner telling you that there were things Steve didn’t need to know. His eyes met yours again before he spoke up. 

“I’m now your bodyguard, and if I think the information kept from the boss is in your best interest, then I won’t tell him anything. For example, you smiled all the way to the apartment, no tears and no sunglasses. Though, I think you should powder your nose and dry your face,” he smirked, and you laughed a little, nodding gratefully and doing exactly as he said. 

The car stopped exactly as you put all the supplies back into your purse, and you had a feeling Clint took a longer route to Steve’s house just to give your face the time to dry up and calm down. Checking the time, you saw it was 10 minutes before 9 and saw the relief on Clint’s face when he realized the same thing. 

“Alright, I will take you to the boss and then will get the boys to help with your things. We won’t go through anything, but if you need our help when you’re unpacking, all you have to do is text me,” Clint said, walking you to the door. 

The man you met on your first night there was standing as a sculpture at the exact same spot, and you wondered if he ever moved from that hallway. He did move towards you, gesturing to your purse, but Clint’s hand stopped him mid-motion. 

“She’s clean. I’ve been with her the whole time,” he said sternly and with authority, and when he saw the first man taking a breath to protest, Clint just gave him a chilling frown, and the man stepped down, hung his head in defeat and let you through. 

“It’s not a problem, Clint; I could have shown him the purse, you know?” You almost whispered as you walked through the empty rooms and hallways with Clint by your side. 

“They need to learn to respect you, Miss. You are, after all, marrying the boss very soon, and they need to understand that you are not a threat,” he gave you a curt nod, and you blushed a little. You didn’t know what it was, but the way Clint spoke to you with so much trust and respect already made you feel much better. You knew it would be an issue, so having somebody on your side was a huge relief already. 

“Thank you, Clint, I really-“ 

“Well, happy you two are best buddies already! Are you gonna braid each other’s hair and do each other’s nails soon too?” A voice snapped you back to reality, a voice you already knew too well. Steve was leaning against a door, his face stoic despite the mocking tone of his voice. Clint obviously tensed next to you, mumbled some apology and scurried out of the room, leaving you with Steve. 

You just looked at him and crossed your arms on your chest. 

“Do you need to be like this?” You asked incredulously, not really understanding why he had to be such an ass when all you did was having some sort of conversation with one of his loyal men. 

“Like what, honey? You seem to forget who I am and what I can do to you and your fucking life,” he sneered when he finally pulled away from the door and marched right in front of you. 

Your arms fell from your chest as you stared at him, trying to figure him out. Which, considering he was a prolific mobster, wasn’t the easiest task at hand. But you tried nevertheless and poked to see where was all this coming from. He obviously needed to be in control of every situation, always the centre of attention, and, you realized, it was probably this that pissed him off. You walked in, not really paying attention to him standing by the door but carelessly talking to somebody else. But his attitude was another thing entirely. 

“What do you want me to say, Steve? That I’m sorry I talked to somebody else and that it won’t happen again? You know it probably will, especially since you assigned Clint with the task of taking care of me and making sure I survive this year with you, which is really all he had done in the 40 minutes I have known him,” you reasoned, trying to sound confident but not pushy. You needed to show him that he couldn’t just toss you around like he might have thought. You didn’t expect him changing his attitude altogether for you, but you, at least, hoped he would go easy on you. 

He was seething but also thinking; you could see his mind going in overdrive to come up with something snarky and mean. But you were quicker than him, once again. 

“Will you be so kind and show me to my room? I would like to get settled in before we start talking about the wedding.”

“There will be no talk of a wedding. All you have to take care of is go tomorrow and pick your fucking dress. Everything else is being dealt with. I won’t need you tonight, so you can go and be by yourself till tomorrow,” he snapped and walked away without saying another word. 

Great, now you felt like you were grounded, and all you did was talking with somebody nice to you. You shook your head disapprovingly and headed in a direction you thought might have been your room, but after taking a few turns, you weren’t even sure you were in New York anymore. 

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing here?” You heard from behind you, and before you knew what was happening, somebody pushed you forcibly against the nearest wall, pressing their elbow into your neck. You coughed, surprised, clawing at the man’s forearms and trying to let him loosen the press because it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” He yelled into your face, and you tried to tell him, but your voice wouldn’t come out. So, you just stared at him, tears filling your eyes before you heard a loud hey from somewhere behind you two and saw a man with long brown hair running towards you. 

“Sarge, this woman was roaming around here. I think she is a spy,” the man still holding you said to the newly arrived guy, and all you could do was shake your head and tried to make yourself look as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t difficult considering you were in no position to be able to even defend yourself had the man decided to crush your trachea. 

“Fucking idiot! That’s the boss’ bride! Let her go, you dickhead,” the man, sarge, growled, and you felt the pressure leaving your body. Which was all it took for you to collapse on the floor and start coughing uncontrollably, gripping your neck in your hands to protect it from any further disturbance. 

“I-I, I didn’t know, Sarge! Don’t tell him. I thought she was some fucking spy. What the hell was she even doing here all alone, huh? It’s not my fucking fault she came sniffing around stuff that is none of her business,” the man tried to defend himself, but from the murderous gaze he received from the sergeant, he wasn’t very successful. 

“Are you ok, Miss? Did he break anything? Is your head spinning? Are you feeling nauseous? Any of this?” He crouched down to your level and extended an arm to you, and you flinched instinctively, not feeling too sure who was your friend here and who wasn’t. So, to play it safe, nobody was your friend, and you’d be scared of them all, forever. Easy business. 

The man saw your reaction and frowned even more but was persistent when he removed your hands from your neck to see an already-forming bruise alongside your throat. 

“You need to talk to me, Y/N. Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You coughed and grimaced because, yes, in fact, you did hurt and that all over the fucking neck and even your head. Which, given the man almost crushed your fucking throat with his elbow, wasn’t that surprising. 

“I’ll be fine. And I wasn’t sniffing around; I was just looking for my room. I thought it might be somewhere here, and I would have asked if I saw anyone. But this place is like a fucking maze, and I was all alone,” you screeched, and the sergeant nodded and helped you to stand up. He was pulling out what looked like a phone, but you stopped him. 

“Don’t call him, please. I’m fine. I just need to get to the room, so I can put some cold water on it, have a drink and go to sleep. Please,” you accentuated and saw the man weighing his options before he put the phone back to his pocket and nodded for you to follow him. 

“I will tell him, just so you know. Steve needs to know about this, and we need to make sure you are introduced to the whole house the first thing in the morning so that this doesn’t happen again. But he needs to know. I will give you a few minutes to take it all in before I do call him, though,” he said with a resolution in his voice, and while you wanted to protest, you saw that it would have been to no avail. So, not saying another word, you let yourself in what was supposed to be your room and took it all in. 

The walls were this very soft grey, which you actually preferred to the cold white you saw a lot all over the house. There was a king-sized bed against the main wall, framed with two bed-side tables and two matching white and gold lamps. There were many pillows on the bed and a plaid, grey and blue, throw as well, making it all feel very homey. You could see a large closet, where you could have easily fit ten times the amount of clothes you owned. The only other thing in the room was a table with a chair and some drawers, where you could picture yourself working and writing. 

However, when you turned around, you saw something that caught your attention. An easel with a little table on wheels, on top of which was a palette where you could see yourself mixing colors left and right. You squealed, but the sound reminded you that you have just been assaulted and that you could admire the room later. 

You took your time in the bathroom, inspecting your neck and hissing here and there when you touched it carefully. You knew the sarge was outside your door, probably counting in his head before he called Steve, and you were actually pretty surprised he wasn’t marching in already. Just when you thought of it, the door to your room flew open, and you heard Steve and the man talking (well, actually, more like yelling at each other).

“Where the fuck is she? I’m going to kill Drax. I swear to fucking God, man. How is it even possible that he does shit like this? They were all supposed to be briefed, for fuck’s sake. Imma have Sam’s ass as well for this. Fuck!” He yelled and kicked into something, which made you frowned, and you rushed out of the bathroom. 

Steve spun around and almost ran towards you, cradling your face in his hands carefully and lifting your head so that he could have a clear view of the injuries. He was swearing under his breath, but you couldn’t help it and stare at him, wide-eyed. He was actually careful with you, sweet even as he took it all in, and when he was sure you wouldn’t die right there, he took a step back from you. 

“Are you ok?” He asked after a moment, and all you could was just nod and stand there awkwardly, scratching your arms behind your back. 

“Will you be able to find your room easier next time?” 

“No, we took too many turns. But I won’t leave this room till morning anyway, and I will learn to stay out of the way very quickly, I promise,” you rushed to say, not really wanting to meet any of his crew alone again. 

“You can’t be scared walking around here, honey. I will show you around right now, and I have already called an emergency meeting, and I want you there. This can never happen again,” he said gravely, and you understood this was probably his way of apologizing for something that wasn’t really all his fault. Well, he didn’t have to storm off and leave you there, nor did he have to scare Clint away, who was ready to show you to your room in the first place. 

“Is it necessary, Steve? If I’m quite honest, I don’t feel too comfortable leaving the room right now,” you quipped, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door. Weirdly, you felt a little better having the skin-on-skin contact with him because, at least now, nobody would be stupid enough to attack you. 

You tried to remember the way and took in the details that would make you not lose your trail again, such as the red vase on one of the tables in the corner that looked just like the corner two minutes ago, but the vase was something you could remember, so you took a mental note of that and other little things that would serve for your safety, obviously. Because when Steve told you people would want you dead, you sort of didn’t expect those people would be in the house with you. 

You walked through the spacious kitchen and the adjacent dining room to find yourself in what looked like a meeting room, with around 20 men gathered and scattered all over the room. 

When Steve finally stopped, he let go of your hand, but he instinctively reached for you and pulled you against his side. You looked at him in slight disbelief again but didn’t say anything as he stared in front of himself till the room was as quiet as a freaking church during a sermon. 

“Let me make this very quick: however lays as much as a fucking finger on Y/N here, I will kill you, and I won’t give a fuck who you are. You were briefed that I’m getting married to the woman I want, and because somebody wasn’t paying attention to the fucking briefing, evidently, my fiancé is now sporting a black neck, which she will have to cover for our wedding. Drax, you and I will speak tomorrow, I was ready to kill you, but I’m a reasonable man, so I will sleep and think of your punishment then. Now, any questions?” He asked threateningly, and you knew even if somebody did have a question, nobody would dare to ask it now. 

And just as you predicted, the room was as quiet as before, and Steve waved his hand so that everybody was dismissed and they could breathe again. Just not in his presence. 

“Sam, you stay here,” Steve added when he saw one of his closest men leaving the room as well. 

“I will deal with him, Steve. I don’t know how that could have happened, but it won’t ever again, I promise. If it does, you can have my head, man,” the bulky man said and smiled warmly at you. 

“By the way, hi, I’m Sam. I’m like the muscles here, you know? So, if you need to pick something up, I’m your guy,” he said with a wink, and you chuckled but took his hand to shake it. 

“Nice to meet you, Sam, and I will remember that, thank you.” 

“Alright, now, we have all the pleasantries behind us, you can go back to your room and go to sleep. And Y/N, if anybody as much as looks at you the wrong way, you tell me, ok? This marriage might not be a genuine one, but none of these assholes knows that or should care about that. They should protect you just like they protect me, and I don’t care what they say. I can’t have my fucking wife scared to walk these halls,” he was still frowning as he was saying all this to you, but you could see he was much more relaxed than when all the men were in the room. These two, the sergeant whose name you still didn’t know, and Sam, were obviously close to Steve because despite the winks Sam gave to you, Steve didn’t make a scene, nor did he give you the pointed looks when others were around. Still, you were on thin ice, and there was too much drama for one day for you to try and challenge him in any way. 

“Ay ay, Captain,” you chuckled, and the corner of Steve’s mouth actually moved a little, so you took that as a good sign. 

“Alright, I will try and get back to my room and call it a day because tomorrow is an important day! So, nice to meet you, gentlemen, and I will see you soon, I guess,” you waved at them awkwardly, and Sam waved back enthusiastically as you left the men to themselves. 

“She is actually quite nice,” Sam summarized, and winked at Bucky, who just rolled his eyes at him in annoyance, having just enough of Sam’s antics for one day. 

“Yeah, yeah, she actually is, when she’s not talking back and challenging every fucking thing I say,” Steve complained, and it was a turn for both men to roll their eyes at their best friend. 

“Oh yeah, because you love when they’re meek and quiet, we forgot. C’mon, man, somebody fucking choked her today, and she was still standing here with her head held high, keeping it together like a fucking pro. I say she is perfect for you,” Sam said defensively when he saw the murderous stare from his friend/boss. 

Good thing Sam didn’t see you in your room because as soon as you closed the door behind yourself, the tears just streamed down your face, and small sobs left your lips. You were glad the day was over and dreaded what the next day would bring. 

Next Chapter >

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#gilded #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers story #steve rogers series #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #reader insert #mobster au #Mobster Steve #mobster Steve Rogers #mafia au #mafia boss steve rogers #au mafia boss #Avengers #avengers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #MCU #MCU fanfiction #alternate universe #arranged marriage #angst #violence #fluff #swearing #series

[starryse]

The Star Pitcher

Juyeon x Reader

The Boyz high school au!, 60’s au!, baseball team TBZ au!

6.8k Words

Summary: The perks of baseball season consisted of seeing your cute guy friends in their uniforms, soft pretzels, and the excuse to get out of your house and sit in the warm summer sun. The downside? One of your cute guy friends was also the team’s pitcher who you were madly in love with.

Masterlist

The neon lights cascaded across the line of skateboards and bikes outside of the diner, the shining glare reflecting onto the window next to your booth. The sky was darkening to a deep shade of purple, the street lights and passing by cars offering comfort in the oncoming night. Dusk was a beautiful time in the city, though the shadows that came from the groves of trees when you walked through the trails were disheartening to say the least. You weren’t as lucky as the rest of your bunch, not owning a motorcycle or your dads hand me down car- you weren’t even allowed a skateboard because it was “unfair” to your younger siblings. This made the long journey home after your daily hangouts quite dreadful; and as summer time grew closer, the nights became shorter, meaning the comforting blue sky disappeared twice as fast.

Your face scrunched in distaste as you focused on the increasingly dark outside, not registering the conversations going on around you. The boy next to you noticed your dazed state, his eyes glancing down to your hands as they twirled around the straw in your half empty milkshake.

“You okay?”

Blinking a few times, the dryness of your eyes slowly faded as you snapped your attention to your disformed straw in front of you. You hummed, “yeah why?” your finger gliding across the rim of the glass, strawberry cream coating your skin in result. Juyeon watched you wipe the residue on the bottom of the Jean jacket he let you borrow, his sharp eyes enlarging as he winced- his mom would surely kill him later. The slicked hair boy was brought back to his senses when you finally looked over at him, his mouth quickly stammering a response, “oh, I uh just thought you seemed a little out of it,” Juyeon awaited your reaction, continuing when you simply shrugged, “you know I can drive you home, y/n”

You groaned, pushing your back into the booths cushion while pushing your drink closer to the window sill, “Juyeon-“

“I know I know, you don’t have to tell me twice” the huffing man leaned against the table, resting his chin against his propped up arm. You rolled your eyes, poking your pouting friend in his side, causing him to jump and swat away your hand, “Don’t be a baby, baby. I can handle myself okay?”

“Yeah Yeon, don’t be a baby. Y/n has made it very clear she doesn’t want any of us to take her home because she’s embarrassed by our presence” Hyunjae’s mocking tone ceases your hands from Juyeon’s sides.

“Wha- not true asshat” you didn’t bother in defending yourself anymore when it came to Hyunjae’s smart remarks, it was a hidden show of affection between the two of you. Though it didn’t stop you from tossing the ball of straw paper into his open cup of coke. That particular action gave you a disgusted look from the brunette, his lips moving as you could only imagine the mimicking words that spilled out.

Daily hangouts with your group of angsty, sarcastic boys was your favorite thing to do when you needed a much needed break. At the end of a long day, seeing the familiar 11 faces waiting for you at the school entrance was just what you needed to relieve stress. Even if they were possibly the most annoying people you have ever had the pleasure of knowing, they were your favorite humans. Maybe except the current boy beside you who’s shoulders were shaking against yours as he laughed at Eric’s sly comment. He wasn’t as annoying as the others. Then again, the hearts that soared around your eyes as you snuck glances towards him were a dead give away you were a bit biased- the heart wants what it wants. And in this case, yours most definitely wanted the handsome baseball player, Lee Juyeon.

“Earth to Y/n. Hellooo? We’re leaving, dummy.”

“Huh?” Your head snapped up to meet the annoyed expression of Sunwoo, eyes following the boys that had been piling out of the booth as you sat confused.

Sunwoo looked to Eric for assistance, knowing fair well why you had been blatantly zoned out the last 15 minutes. Eric nodded at Sunwoo, ushering for him to head out the door with the others as he mouthed an I got this.

“Cmon’ pretty girl, I think me and you need a Juyeon free night. What do you say?” Eric grabbed the jacket you had shrugged off over the back of the booth, tossing it over his shoulder while he stood waiting for you at the exit. God you were really whipped, Eric was pretty damn sure of that as he watched the puppy dog look you sent his way in response to his question. Knowing the answer, Eric wrapped his arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer as the two of you made way back to the rowdy group.

Most of the boys had took off towards their houses, only Juyeon, Kevin, Sunwoo, and Hyunjae remaining. The boys were sat along the curb of the parking lot, shared glasses of coke being passed around while they waited for their two youngest to return.

Sunwoo broke the silence, his infamous evil smirk pointed at Juyeon and Hyunjae, “I wonder what Y/n and Eric are doing” Three heads turned to the sighing boy, eyes scrunched in curiosity as they awaited Sunwoo’s next words.

“I mean, it has been awhile right? And those two are quiteee close”

Antagonizing. That’s all he’s doing.

Did the two gullible idiots whom were currently gawking at one another realize this? No. No they didn’t. The muttering boys scrambled up from their spots on the ledge, untied shoes tripping against the pebbles that had loosened from the cement as they rose quickly to find the “quite close” pair. Sunwoo’s hand clasped tightly against his mouth, the urge to fight the oncoming cackles growing harder as he watched the gangly men run into the bike racks, their ego’s too high to even care while they bolted for the diner’s door. Kevin, not remotely amused, watched in disapproval, knowing fair well that the hyena sounding laugh near him was that of pure provoktion at the gullible dancers who, at their own expense, were a tad finicky over their youngest friend.

“You know why they’re like that, right?”

Sunwoo nodded his head, sucking in a breath as his laughter died down. Of course he knew why, whether or not he liked it, he knew everything about the diverse set of feelings in the group. He sighed, tucking a leg close to his chest while the other kicked against the pavement, “yeah of course I know. I think everyone does except Y/n herself.”

The coke was bitter in Kevin’s mouth, the acidic taste tingling against the cuts on his lips. Having enough, he set the coke by Sunwoo, using the drink as a sort of share of thoughts between the two. Uttering a thank you, Sunwoo was quick to down the rest of the fizzy soda, a grotesque burp following. Loud laughter once again surrounded the curb, though this time sounds of disgust and displeasure joined as Kevin shoved the guilty party farther away from him, his left hand fanning the air away from his nose.

“God Sunwoo-“

“What, it was a great drink!”

You and Eric finally rounded the corner of the parking lot, a fighting cat and dog duo following close behind as they beat themselves up for listening to Sunwoo, yet again. Hearing the noises behind them, Kevin and Sunwoo turned to the 4 of you, looks of relief washing over them. Sunwoo stood up, dusting the dirt off of his track pants in the process, “God finally you idiots show up, did you not notice the darkness surrounding us?? It is,” he checked the thick silver watch decorated on his wrist, a scoff leaving his lips, “8 pm”

Eric snorted, rolling his eyes in response, “okay grandpa, let’s go then”

You stood against the small tree near the end of the street, your arms crossed against your chest to shield yourself from the growing winds. The cars passing by offered some light against the darkening sky, the diner’s lights beginning to dim as closing time got closer. Summer time was supposed to be warm and bright, and yet here you stood waiting for your friends, shivers running down your body while you glanced around the city's streets. Interrupting your small bruising session, the feeling of a shoulder knocking against yours had you turning to look at the culprit, your nerves calming at the familiar face.

“Hi”

“Hey” you grinned back, eyes scanning the pretty man. The moonlight brought a look of innocence to his face, the blue fluorescents casting shadows across his skin leaving only the bundle of stars in his dark eyes to light up his appearance. Juyeon was a human of the finest features, and a stellar personality to match. The duality his eyes could perceive was always interesting to watch, you never knew to expect his sharp gaze or soft looks of adoration. Tonight, you found yourself hoping for the second option.

Juyeon reached for your hand, tugging it into his as he placed both of them into his jacket pocket. His thumb ran circles over your knuckles, the slightly rough padding of his fingers locking between yours. Your eyes peered down to his jacket, stomach knotting at the sight of your hand with his. This was okay, right?

“I figured you were cold”

You lifted your head, free hand pushing away the strands of hair that blocked your vision. Juyeons sight was casted on the other boys, watching as they fought over who got to ride with him instead of skating home in the dark, “I saw Eric with the jacket I gave you, so I kinda assumed you would be freezing your ass off by now”

Juyeon’s taunt was meant to joke around with you, and normally you’d scowl then proceed to pick at him right back. But maybe it was the way he looked under the stars, or the way your hand felt great in his as the feeling brought you warmth. Or it could be the proximity between you two, shoulders pressed against one another in comfort against the wind. Either way, the options had the same anxious thoughts of feeling the need to get over the stupid crush on your friend. Your heart tugged at the thought, it was hard to move on from someone who hid you snacks in your room every time he came over. But having a crush on your best friend who you just knew was too out of your league? That was even worse.

“Y/n, let’s bounce. I wanna start that new film series before my mom gets home from the pub!”

Oh thank God for Eric Sohn.

Mentally letting out a breath of relief, you loosened your grip from Juyeons hand, slipping away from his hold in the process. Bidding the boy goodbye, you waved over your shoulder before jogging to Eric as he began to skate back to his house. Juyeon, on the other hand, stood stone cold, watching the two of you exchange laughs and smacks on each other’s arms. He knew it was ridiculous to be pissed over two friends getting along, so why was he squeezing his jacket sleeves just a tad too hard? His jaw was slack, teeth nipping at cheeks as he yelled for the three idiots, who were still fussing over who got to ride with him home, to give him his keys.

Thankful that the trip to Eric’s was much shorter than what would have been your lonely walk home, you were pleased to already be walking up the steps of his farm porch. Knowing there was no formality needed to invite you in, Eric simply unlocked the door and waited for you to step inside before he relocked it.

Eric’s house, much like him, was always comforting. His house smelt of pine and vanilla, not surprising since he too smelt similar to that. Eric’s bedroom was on the 2nd floor, whereas his parents slept downstairs (which made for great sleepovers so you didn’t have to worry about waking his mom up who works 2nd shift).

Your shoes were tossed to the side of the wall next to Eric’s, knowing how strict his mom was when it came to keeping the house tidy, you had a designated spot for your shoes whenever you visited. Eric, who was now passing you one of the waters he grabbed from the fridge, motioned his head to the stairs, silently telling you to make way to his room.

For a teenage boy, Eric’s room wasn’t nearly as messy as one would think. His clothes were tucked away in his dresser drawers or hanging behind his closest doors, leaving the messiest thing to be his un-made bed. You plopped yourself onto the nearest side of the bed, making room for Eric on the other side. The radio that usually sat on his side table was tossed in between you two, Eric’s fingers nimbly flicking between the stations to find the baseball film he had been non-stop talking about. The TV downstairs was off limits until his parents were home, they were quite finicky as the cost for the larger box tv was a little too much to be accidentally broken by their energetic son.

Settling yourself into his pillows, you tugged the closest blanket over your torso, legs curled up to press against your chest. Eric’s sudden exclaim had you giggling at his victorious outburst, his arms fist pumping the air before turning the volume on the gadget up. Jumping beside you, the blonde shimmied to your side, wrapping one arm behind your back and the other behind his head.

“I cannot wait to watch this, Younghoon told me it was the best movie he’s ever seen!” Eric was going on and on, his eyes lighting up as if he were the same moon that glared down at Juyeon earlier. Juyeon. Right. Why did your brain have to bring him up? As if you couldn’t escape the mere presence of him, he was filling your thoughts just as often.

Noticing your lack of response, Eric craned his head down to see you pressed against his shoulder blade, eyes stuck on the bed sheets beneath you. He should have known it would be nearly impossible to have a night without the pitcher of their own baseball team being brought up.

“I can feel you staring at me”

Eric scoffed, flicking the side of your temple while looking back at the radio, “yeah well I bet my sheets could say the same thing.”

Left hanging, Eric took notice real quick at the feeling of something wet drip onto his jeans. His inner baseball player came out as he swiftly moved you up to eye height, hands pushing your shoulders back to rest against his bed frame.

“Hey, look at me”

Before you even had the time to react, Eric was already gently lifting your face up to meet his. Your eyes raised to meet Eric’s concerned brown ones, though your vision was much blurrier compared to his you could imagine. His thumb was soft against your cheeks, blue sleeves wiping the few tears that escaped past your waterline. You felt terrible. Not just because of the unreciprocated feelings you had on Juyeon. But seeing the way your usual happy-go-lucky friend was looking at you as if you were the most fragile thing on the planet- man, that stung.

“What can I do to help, Y/n?” Eric’s voice was gentle, barely audible even. His palms never left their spot against your cheeks, his fingers lightly tracing across your skin to bring you ease.

The truth was, you didn’t know how he could help. Deep down you knew there wasn’t anything anyone could do to relieve the ache you felt every time you saw Juyeon; everytime you remember that he wasn’t interested in you like that, how his heart wasn’t set on you like yours was for him. Not only did you feel utterly helpless, but you felt the gnawing feeling that you were only being annoying, making a big deal out of a stupid crush.

With a shaky breath, you placed your hands on Eric’s before pulling them down to your lap, “I want you to help me move on.”

“Are you sure you’re fine? Because I have no problem keeping you here until you are”

“Yes Eric, I promise I’m okay” you slipped your shoe over your heel, “besides, I’ll see you at school tomorrow so you’ll know if I’m not, right?”

The pout on his face raised enough that he could mumble a Pinky Promise, as he tightened his pinky around yours. You laughed at his childish antics, pulling him over for a hug, “pinky promise,” you patted the top of his head, his chest huffing after, “don’t forget to be at my house before 6! Juyeon gets there around 6:15 so I want you there before he is”

Eric nodded, pushing you towards the door, “okay leave now because I have no self control and will definitely not let you leave if you don’t go now”

Mumbling strands of okay with giggles spewn between, you finally made it out the door and began the ever boring walk home.

**As soon as you stepped inside your house house, the weight that you thought was lifted off your shoulders came hurling itself right back, and this time it brought shame along with it. Normally when you felt like shit, you’d make yourself a bowl of cereal, turn on your radio, and listen to whatever Elvis Presley interview was on. This time, thanks to Miss Shame, that wouldn’t be enough to cure your self-pity moment; no, it was time to call in the big gun.

** “I’m sorry, you did what?” Sangyeon sat across from you, his legs tucked under his butt as he shifted his position so he could properly look at you.

“I had sex with Eric” your voice trailed off at the end, eyes glued to your hands that currently were tugging off loose string on your jeans.

The sound of silence only made you more tense, terrified of what your eldest friend was thinking, or even feeling, at the moment. Growing frustrated with the lack of response, you begin to try and explain yourself- though the assertive tone that Sangyeon had when he called your name out had you quickly pursing your lips.

Sangyeon went on a tangent for what felt like forever, his hands doing the dramatics besides the substantial amount of sighs he produced, “I- I just don’t think I understand why, emphasis on the why by the way,” his hands finally went down from their long phase of being tossed around in the air, “you would go and do something so stupid like that?”

“I told you-“

“Stop, I understand what you told me,” the frustrated man interrupted you, “I’m just failing to see why you both thought it was the correct solution”

Quite frankly you were puzzled about it yourself. Fucking your other best friend, and the one you didn’t have feelings for, definitely wasn’t in the itenery when you joined the odd bunch of athletes. You were frustrated. Depressed. And just tired of being the last choice. And in the moment, sitting there being comforted by Eric, you finally felt like you were the most important person in the world and not just the star pitcher of your school’s baseball teams groupie.

“Eric only did it because he knew I was hurting, he just thought he was being a good friend- which he was. As for me, well I. God Sangyeon I just-“ A tissue suddenly sat in your open palm, sangyeon softly smiling as pointed at your eyes. What the hell? We’re you seriously crying right now? Wiping the stray tears that had fallen, you took a long chug of your water before continuing, “I just wanted to be something important for once. I didn’t want to be the pathetic little girl that had a crush on her best friend, Juyeon, the popular pitcher who could have the hearts of any girl on those stupid bleachers. I’m sorry, Sangyeon. I fucked up, huh?”

“Pft hell yeah you did”

At times, you forget just how blunt your friend was, this being one of those times as you sat with your eyebrows raised in slight shock at his confession. Sangyeon noticed your look, raising his hand at you to signal you to just listen.

“But we all make mistakes, right? Sure your mistake was Eric’s dick, but I guess that’s just what you needed to figure things out. Which, you need to definitely do as soon as possible because I have a hunch things are going to work out just fine” Sangyeon opened his arms, waiting for you to thank him with his favorite hug (news flash, he loved your hugs a lot.)

You squeezed your arms around him, slightly shaking you both back and forth. The sound of your thank you was muffled by the white and blue shirt he wore, causing you both to laugh at the disformed words. You leaned back, Sangyeons eyes still partially crinkled from laughing, “thank you for being the best dad a girl could have”

Sangyeon scoffed, his grin widening even more as he shoved you back, “whatever, weirdo”

Mondays. Also known as Satan’s asshole.

Eric kept his promise, showing up before Juyeon could arrive to take you to school like normal. That, you were eternally grateful for. You weren’t ignoring your best friend persay, just simply giving him space until you could realize what the hell you were going to do about your feelings. And that was starting today, as you and Eric skateboarded (or in your case walked) past Juyeon as he made his way down your street. You’d be lying if the look on his face didn’t make you want to run back to his car and apologize endlessly, but you were raised to be strong, and that’s what you were. Kind of.

The perks of baseball season consisted of seeing your cute guy friends in their uniforms, soft pretzels, and the excuse to get out of your house and sit in the warm summer sun. The downside? One of your cute guy friends was also the team’s pitcher who you were madly in love with.

Since you were the boyz’s (ha) best friend, you had attended every game since they formed the team 2 years ago. And even today, as you sit front row on the cold, metal bleachers, you were still cheering them on despite the fact you had sworn you were going to distance yourself from Juyeon. Maybe you would have succeeded in that promise, but the way Juyeon looked at you right now as he struck yet another player out, well, it had you wondering why you even thought of such a blasphemous idea in the first place.

With only one out remaining, the opposing team was bound to have to forfeit as the gap between the teams was only increasing. You could only imagine the pride running through your friends’ veins as they got even more amped up knowing they were soon to claim victory. The amount of talent they had could match their love for the game, the two qualities mixing to create one hell of a baseball team; you were sure even the opposing team could see that as their energy levels drained with each strike or out they received. And while you wanted to feel bad, you knew there was no use- because even the team who knew they were bound to lose, had smiles written on their faces while they half-fived their teammates when running past one another.

The sound of bats clinking against dugout cement floors, helmets being tossed to the side of the field and the overlapping good games being said to one another signified the end of the short-live scrimmage. Watching the boys finish their lineup and run to do their large group hug was heartwarming, the other fans in the audience snapping pictures with their disposable cameras could agree. Your moment of proudness was cut short as Haknyeon and Younghoon yelled for you to join them on the field, their hands waving frantically at you to get your attention. Not wanting to cause anymore attention to flood your way, you quickly gathered your bag and rushed to your boys, an embarrassed laugh bubbling in your throat as you were welcomed into the hug. Loud smacks were heard, the cheering players aiming to slap each other in utter happiness over their win- of course you ducked between their arms in an attempt to hide yourself from said slaps (unfortunately for you your ass was not covered and they gladly gave you a few victory whacks.)

“God pretty soon you guys are going to win the championships, then imma be the biggest groupie ever” your comment had the group in fits, heads shaking in amusement.

“Yeah well you’re the best groupie ever” sunwoo pushed your shoulder, a cheesy grin lighting up his face. Hollers and whoops were made in agreement, the two closest to you (Sunwoo and Jacob) tugging you closer into their sides so they could ruffle your hair (leaving you very displeased as you spent quite a while that morning carefully taking the hair rollers out to have stable curls). Trying to tame your now frizzy hair, you weren’t able to control the smile that grew to match the boys’ around you.

Seeing you smile wide in happiness and hearing the laughs that you fabricated, Juyeon couldn’t help himself from staring at you. Watching your nose crinkle from the side pokes the boys littered on you, or seeing the way your eyes were filled with light as you joked right along with the others, it only made the man wish you were standing next to only him and not his attractive friends. Normally, he wasn’t one to be possessive or even jealous. Though when it came to you, someone who’s supported him at every game, waken him up at the crack of dawn to adventure to the sea side of town, and have feverishly grown on him over the few years you've known him? He’s positive he’d go to the end of the world for you.

With the amount of time he spent with you, attached to one another's hips, it was utterly impossible for him to not have developed feelings for you. You were beyond sensational. In his eyes, you were a stellar person- someone with a heart of gold who would probably sell their soul to protect the ones they loved. You had always been the first person he’d call when he needed someone the most, there was never a second of doubt that you couldn’t help him through anything he went through. When he tore the ligament in his elbow and couldn’t participate in 2 weeks worth of games, he was devastated. He had spent forever just trying to wrap his head around the fact he couldn’t be there for his team when they needed him the most, beating himself up over an injury he couldn’t have prepared for. You were the only reason he kept going after that, why he continued to get out of bed everyday to watch his brothers practice even if he couldn’t do so himself. Truly, Juyeon knew you were his foundation. His beautiful, intoxicating, better-half best friend who he had finally realized, as he stood across from you now watching you look as perfect as ever in his extra jersey he gave you to wear at games, just how in love with you he was. And he has absolutely no idea what the hell he was going to do about it.

You weren’t dense, you could feel Juyeon’s non-trailing eyes on you. You didn’t think you made it obvious you were trying (and clearly failing so far) to distance yourself from him, unless he was that intelligent he knew something was off already, so why was he very blatantly staring at you? You couldn’t stop the questions from piling up, your thoughts keeping you distracted from the winners high the boys clearly still had. To meet his eyes and stand your ground was what you should have done, but alas, you squeezed your arms together and slipped away from the sweaty, compact group. With a mix of genuinely overheating due to being stuck to the sweating boys and the gaze Juyeon had locked on you, you were quite aware of how hot you felt at the moment. You tried to escape as quietly as possible, wanting nothing more than to get back to your house and sob until you the tears stopped flowing. Unfortunately for you, your group of friends all had overprotective spidey senses over you, practically able to sense your every move before you could even make it. The moment you turned your back from the group, you were instantly met with whines from the boys, a hand tugging you back to the middle of the circle.

“Eh eh eh, where do you think you’re going missy?” Chanhee poked your stomach, earning a light tap to his forehead from you in return.

You groaned in response, “I was trying to leaveee.” Noises of complaints erupted from the group, sounds of why’s and no’s sounding from each boy.

“Uh sorry but you can’t”

You turned around in Chanhee’s hold, head cocking in confusion. “Uh why not?” you mocked his tone. Chanhee opened his mouth to respond, his eyes rolling at your taunt. Though he was cut off before he could he even begin,

“Because. We can’t celebrate without you, you’re my- I mean- our good luck charm” Juyeon stuttered, just merely missing total embarrassment.

You, who was very much not expecting Juyeon to comment something like that, were quick to shut up. The internal struggle of what to say was hounding you, your eyes looking anywhere but Juyeon. So you hid closer to Chanhee instead, stealthily sneaking your hand behind him to pinch his elbow in an attempt to get him to help you out. Chanhee, getting the hint, smoothly answered for you, “Y/n would love to come, but unfortunately she has our psych project to working, right Y/n?” The white haired male looked at you, his eyes narrowing while he nudged your side.

“O-oh yeah. The projects worth a lot and I can’t take another bad grade in that class” you voiced, gaze finally meeting Juyeon’s. It didn’t take a genius to see the soft glaze of disappointment that lingered in his eyes, even after he masked it with a smile.

Taking that as your cue to exit, you waved at the group, their previous wide eyes and grins much more tamed as they stood glancing between you and their friend. They watched you walk away, waiting until they couldn’t see you or thought you couldn't overhear them to start murmuring amongst each other.

“So that was obviously a lie” Changmin stated as if it were a fact, his sight still locked to where you walked off at.

Jacob, who could either be considered too nice for his own good or just gullible, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what the brunette meant. Changmin, who was more than pleased to explain himself, responded to Jacob’s puzzled expression, “I’m in her psych class, and there’s no project due. At least that I’m aware of, anyhow”

Chanhee felt his heart jump out of his stomach, his stomach buzzing as he was caught in the lie. He had to cover for you, and yet he had absolutely no idea how. They already knew he was lying once, they would surely realize it a second time. He could feel the pairs of eyes make way to him, his fingers drumming against his thighs to ease his nerves.

“Well what I meant was-“

“He meant to say Y/n had thrown up earlier and wasn’t feeling up to the whole party scene” Sangyeon covered for his friend, locking eyes with Chanhee’s grateful ones as he mouthed a thank you in which Sangyeon nodded his head in approval.

The boys seemed to believe their captains' claim, most of them backing up and leaving it as is wanting to just celebrate their victory. Of course, Sunwoo hadn’t believed a word of what Sangyeon said. The round eyed boy snorted to himself, knowing very well as to why you left in such a rush. And then there was Juyeon, and even Hyunjae, who couldn’t help but feel there was a hidden truth to the line. Both boys chose to not speak up, deeming it as just a weird feeling instead.

“Anywho, can we go get food now? The other teams already leaving and we’re still standing here like weirdos” the youngests outburst had the group in fits, loud laughs filling their ears once again. Whining, Eric let out strings of protest as his friends shook his head and left him taps of affection on his butt. Leave it to Eric to lift the sour moods of his teammates, even if he himself was a bit tense.

The team was sure to have made an appearance at your group's famous hangout, meaning snagging a burger and fries on your way home had been out of the question. You opted to just scavenge your cupboards, hoping to find at least something dinner worthy; unfortunately, you were sure you’d end up eating ramen again, as per usual.

You were correct, ramen was indeed the main dish of the night, you had been remotely blessed with packs of spam to fry up along with some eggs and rice. Though you had been content with what you were able to eat, the rising feeling of guilt couldn’t stop itself from making an appearance as you sat alone at your small kitchen table. You couldn’t help but to imagine your friends right now, knowing fair well they were probably messing around and eating the familiar greasy food you all had grown to love. And yet here you were, eating dinner by yourself, just because you couldn’t grow a pair and accept that you had feelings for Juyeon. Instead, you went to the measures of ignoring not only him, but the 10 other people who had been nothing but great friends to you.

It wasn’t like you could just call them up, the diner only had one wall phone and it was for emergency use only, and your wall phone was currently broken as your dog had chewed the cord. And God forbid you walked all the way to the diner at this time of night, your anxiety would have you running right on back to the confines of your rural home as soon as you made it down your road. Regret was a thing you tried not to experience, you tended to just live doing what you liked and that was that. But this time, it was eating you up.

The food in front of you had gone cold, not that you cared considering your mind was obviously worrying about other things- or people. Your thoughts had drifted off to Juyeon, specifically to him earlier. Logic wanted you to believe that he was merely looking at you because of where you were standing, though your heart had other things in mind. No matter how many times you told yourself there was no way Juyeon could have reciprocated your feelings, something always told you to believe otherwise. Sure you knew he could have practically any girl he wanted, he was absolutely gorgeous and his personality was even better. But was it so hard to believe he could maybe, just maybe, like someone like you? His teams #1 fan who went to all of their matches. Someone who not only had his back, but your shared friends as well? You wanted to believe that, you really did. But why else would you be sitting here, alone, not with Juyeon?

Continuous knocking on your door startled you, your previously sulking shoulder now standing straight as you made way to the abrupt sound. You hadn’t expected your family home until rather late that night, considering they were an hour away at your aunts house. The boys were all at the diner, so you had presumed, and you didn’t exactly have other friends besides them. Maybe it was the tofu cart?

The halt your feet made as you opened the door was sudden, your eyes enlarging at the man in front of you. The wavy tuffs of black hair certainly did not belong to the tofu delivery man, unless he had a strikingly good looking son who looked way too similar to Juyeon you didn’t know about.

“Can I come in?” Juyeon looked down at you, hands twisting the ring on his fair in a habit of anxiety. He didn’t expect you to say no, which is why he sucked in a deep breath of anticipation as he entered your home.

You were fairly shocked yourself, following Juyeon’s figure as he went to his favorite spot in your house- the bar stool Island in your kitchen. It wasn’t surprising he went there, though it only spiked your nerves more knowing he chose to sit there instead of your bedroom; the two of you considered the counter in your kitchen your “deep discussion” area, it was a place you had always found yourselves in the early hours of the morning, talking about the little things that been bugging you lately. Which is why you couldn’t help the way your heartbeat sped up as you sat across from Juyeon, moving the scraps of your dinner to the side in order to have no distractions.

You weren’t sure what to say, deeming it as Juyeon must have had plenty in the way he tapped furiously st the countertop before jumping straight to the point. Oh how you wish you didn’t open the door.

“Are you in love with me?”

You understood what they felt in the movies now. When the camera pans in on the character during the aftermath of the climax, the environment around them seeming to slow down with a blur. “I-I’m sorry, what?” You choked back the saliva that had gotten stuck, not feeling like haphazardly dying in front of your crush.

Juyeon sighed, drawing his fingers back to his lap as he glanced up to you, “Eric told me what happened”

Now normally you weren’t one for violence, in fact, you were rather just passive aggressive in all that you did. But at the moment, you wanted nothing more than to strangle the blonde haired snitch. Placing your hands over your face, you let out a long drawn groan, “that little bitch, of course he did”

Juyeon couldn’t stop the short chuckle that escaped his lips, “you didn’t answer my question”

Apparently the opportunity to confess then be brutally rejected was a lot closer than you had hoped. It was now or never. You’d much rather choose never, but it seems that your friend couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“Yes”

“Yes what?” Juyeon spoke, unable to focus on anything but the way your mouth moved in response to the question.

“I’m in love with you. Did you really have to ask? I thought it was pretty damn obvious, myself” sarcasm rolled easily off your tongue as if it were a form of defense getting ready to face rejection.

Juyeon huffed, leaning forward to flick your forehead at your retort, “I had to make sure it wasn’t a one-sided thing, dummy”

The remark you had saved next was useless now, your tongue ostensibly getting caught in your throat. If now wasn’t a better time to choke on spit, what was? Juyeon jumped up from his seat, grabbing a water from the fridge to pass to your choking frame. You, unable to speak clearly, stuck a thumbs up in appreciation, to which he found incredibly cute.

After recovering from the fit, you finally made eye contact with the softly smiling boy in front of you for the first time since you (unwillingly) confessed, “does that mean I didn’t just get rejected?” Your lips were in a mix of a pout and smirk, your face resemble that of a duck.

“I love you too” Juyeon was grinning wide at this point, his heart pounding in his chest at the affectionate exchange.

You were beyond giddy, body quickly leaning close to Juyeon’s to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. As you pulled back, neither of you could say anything, the fond gazes you had on one another and the heating of your cheeks conveying the right words for you. Juyeon, for one, was ready to do nothing but return the kisses- and that’s exactly what he did.

Note: Hi y’all, I’m back (kind of). This is my first full fledge AU, and I’m so happy it was for Juyeon! I’m a sucker for baseball tbz au’s, so I just had to make one myself! Stay tuned for a special announcement regarding Star Pitcher ;)

Extra Note: pls don’t be afraid to leave feedback (reply, message, reblog), it would help me tremendously and I’d really appreciate it! I love seeing what y’all think! :)

#kpop #follow #reblog #the boyz #tbz #lee juyeon #Juyeon #tbz juyeon #60s au #high school au #the boyz fluff #the boyz smut #the boyz angst #tbz au #Juyeon au #Juyeon smut #Juyeon fluff #Juyeon angst #Juyeon drabbles #Juyeon fanfic #tbz fanfics #literature #starryse

[kythed]

I have a fic request for Kuroo! A childhood friends to lovers situation based off the song Take my Hand by Picture This! (Just a cute song that has been haunting me because Kuroo ❤️)

I have been through and stalked your blog and I love it! I also saw the ficmas prompt list and I’m looking forward to requesting those too!

I hope this is okay and thank you so much! Your stuff is a joy to read! ❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨

take my hand

kuroo tetsurou x reader

hope you enjoy <3

five.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells you, swallowing the heart that keeps straining to burst from his throat, to lay itself at your feet in all its humiliating devotion. “Of course I love you.”

And he does love you, he reassures himself, letting you walk ahead of him. Just not in the way you think he does. He struggles to keep his eyes above your waistline, tearing his gaze from the hem of your skirt and pointedly pinning it to the back of your head, where your hair is loosely tied with a glossy silk ribbon. His efforts succeed for nearly thirty seconds before he again finds his eyes tracing their way down your neck, down your back, down to the arch of your waist and the flare of your hips, relishing the curve of your--

Damn it. He abruptly stops in his tracks, rubbing his eyes until he sees only stars. (Maybe if he rubs his eyes with enough vigor he’ll stop noticing things he shouldn’t notice while looking at his best friend.)

“Tetsu,” you say, turning around with a laugh. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly, blinking hard.

He’s not fine.

four.

Life is painful when you’re in love with your oldest, dearest friend. Let Kuroo Tetsurou be the first to testify that when you’ve grown up with someone your entire life, when you’ve made the long, tedious trek from diapers to graduation gowns with them, it feels almost sinful to find yourself slipping into daydreams about pressing that person against your wall, about hearing them whisper your name on soft linen sheets, about kissing them breathless and glassy eyed until the sun plunges beneath the horizon with a brazen wink.

He hates himself for staring at you and hoping to catch you staring back. He hates himself for letting your words wash over his head, unheard, in favor of watching the way your lips curve and curl when you speak.

Most of all, he hates himself for loving you so fiercely in a particular way that would surely sour your stomach and send you running.

“I love you too,” you say, waiting for him to catch up and fall into step beside you. You take his hand and lace your fingers with his as you make your way up the street to your house. The windows glow a domestic orange, dimly illuminating the patch of asphalt before your front door.

It’s nearing seven now-- the gentle clinking of silverware and some sort of faint, savory scent from within inform you of dinner’s impending commencement.

“I know,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. You roll your eyes as he brushes a mocking kiss over your knuckles. “I’m hard to hate.”

three.

Most of the summer passes uneventfully, according to Kuroo’s standards. He manages to keep himself in check, even as he spends each and every day with you, dawn til dusk, savoring your presence the way a starving man savors his last ration.

He manages to treat you almost exactly as he’s treated you his entire life-- like a best friend. He tells his silly jokes that make you giggle and groan simultaneously. He pushes you off the pier when you least expect it, howling with laughter as you resurface, sputtering and flinging fiery invective. He shares an earbud with you as he walks downtown with you by his side, arm slung over your shoulder with carefully calculated composure.

He almost makes it to autumn without incident.

The small, hidden moments are what gives him away, though, layered within false nonchalance and easygoing grins like brightly painted matryoshka.

The way his chest constricts almost painfully when you laugh at a pun he’s ad-libbed on the spot, sending a flurry of butterflies freewheeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It really wasn’t that good,” he chuckles, tenderly watching as tears of laughter prick at the corners of your eyes and you grip his forearm in an attempt to steady yourself as giggles rack your body.

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, struggling to catch your breath. “It was awful, and that’s what made it so funny.”

(He makes about a dozen more puns that day, feeling like he’s won the lottery whenever you so much as smile at his pitiful attempts at wordplay.)

The way his hands tremble when you turn around and ask him to tie your bikini string before you jump into the lake, the way he bites his lip so some horribly incriminating comment about how he really thinks you’d “be better off without the bikini at all” doesn’t slip out from his mouth.

“Thanks Tetsu,” you chirp after he ties the string around the back of your neck in a neat double-knot. You give him a wink and take off towards the water, kicking up sand in the process. “Last one in buys lunch!”

(He was already planning on paying anyways.)

The way he sits up a little straighter when you lean over and slip a hand under his arms to press ‘skip’ on his phone while you listen to his playlist-- you’re so close he can smell your lip balm.

“Sorry,” you say, smiling apologetically. “I don’t really like that band.”

(Later that evening, Kuroo goes through his Spotify and deletes every single song from that band he has on all of his playlists.)

Yes, he manages to keep himself in check outwardly. But inside, he can feel himself digging his grave a little deeper with each passing day. He watches the sands of summer run through his fingers with the dread of a man counting down the days to his funeral.

He just knows that one of these days he’s going to slip.

two.

He’s right, of course. There’s only so much emotional torment one person can humanly endure. It’s just that he’s hoping he can extinguish this inconvenient, one-sided flame before August comes around. Maybe then everything can go back to normal, whatever normal might entail.

Needless to say, Kuroo’s hopes are dashed before summer comes to a close.

It’s a sticky July evening when you and he drive out to an empty parking lot at the edge of town, a blanket and an old transistor radio in tow. You’re wearing a pale yellow sundress that falls to just above your knees-- he’s glad it’s not any shorter, and that the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to lift your hem.

“I think I can see Orion’s belt,” you say, pointing towards somewhere far into the cosmos. Kuroo squints, trying to follow your finger.

“I don’t think that’s Orion,” he says. “Looks like a cat to me.”

The two of you are sitting on a blanket spread across the hood of his car, craning your necks to make out vague shapes in the stars. Between you, slow, muffled music trickles out from the radio’s small speakers, some sort of vintage tune from the forties.

“How in the world are you seeing a cat?” You shake your head, giving him a hard poke on the shoulder. “Looks more like a swarm of astral bees than anything.”

“Astral bees,” he repeats with a laugh. “Laziest constellation interpretation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not lazy,” you protest. “It’s accurate.”

Kuroo just smiles and shrugs, sneaking a glance at you. Your face is bathed in milky starlight, eyes wide as you peer up at the cloudless sky with a blend of wonder and appreciation. There’s some competition, but he thinks this might be the prettiest you’ve ever looked in a single moment.

As if you can feel his stare, you turn to catch his gaze. A gentle smile breaks onto your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the endearing shyness of a schoolgirl. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, mirroring your grin. “You just… look nice right now.”

“No, seriously,” you laugh disbelievingly. “Is there something on my face?”

“I am being serious,” Kuroo insists, fidgeting with the blanket beneath his palms. “You look good. Yellow suits you.”

You flush, glancing down at your dress. You bought it two summers back, and he’s seen you in it a million times before. This is the first summer where he’s really seen you, though. “Well, thank you. It’s a warm night, so I figured I was better off in a dress than pants.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, breaking eye contact to squint up at the stars. He grins and points, finger trembling slightly. “I think I can see where you’re coming from, with the bees.”

one.

A staticky, syrupy waltz comes on the radio, bleeding into the cracks in the comfortable silence. You sigh contentedly, leaning back onto the windshield. “I like this song. It’s… nostalgic.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’ve heard this before?”

“No,” you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “But it reminds me of times gone by, you know? Like, this is the sort of music I imagine playing when a soldier reunites with his wife after the war.”

“When he comes running out of the train and drops his bags on the platform,” Kuroo continues, watching you carefully, “only to sweep his girl off her feet and spin her around wildly.”

You nod, sneaking a glance at him. “You really know me that well, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes crinkling with humor. “But I get it, too. It has that old fashioned romance thing goin’ on.”

“Mhm,” you agree. You reach over and fiddle with the radio’s volume, turning it up just enough to round out the sound completely.

Kuroo sits for a moment, watching you close your eyes and hum along to the music. Then, a sudden boldness taking the reins, he hops off the hood and walks over to you, extending his hand. “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take my hand,” he insists, so you do, gingerly placing your palm atop his. “We’re going to dance.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh, nonetheless letting him help you down from the car and resting a hand on his shoulder. He lightly places his own on your waist, leading you out into the parking lot. “You know I can’t dance.”

“I can’t either,” he reminds you. “But I want to dance with you right now.”

As you begin to sway slightly to the music, Kuroo pulls you a little closer to his chest, letting his chin brush the top of your head. “Why are you into that whole idea?”

“What idea?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you in slow circles around the lot.

“The idea of an old fashioned love.”

“Oh,” you say, laughing as Kuroo spins you in his arms, catching you before you stumble. “I’m not sure… maybe because it seems more constant than love today. Like, today, if you tell someone you love them, it’s a compliment, not a promise. But back then, it was a vow. It meant something.”

Kuroo swallows, looking down at you. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst out of his temples. I’m about to do something I might regret.

zero.

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, voice low and thick with caution. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. He knows that if he doesn’t do this now, he never will. You look beautiful to him in this moment, dancing with him in the empty parking lot to the faint melody of an old waltz. Your eyes glisten with life, your lips gently parted, hair slightly curling over your cheeks.

You roll your eyes once but nonetheless close them obediently, relying a little more on his arms to steady you. He swallows. “Okay. So, imagine we’re living in the 1940s.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling slightly. “I’m imagining.”

“Imagine I enlisted in the war, and I just got back home. Imagine you’re waiting for me at the train station.”

“Mhmm,” you say, trying your best to envision the platform. “You look good in that uniform, Tetsu.”

He chuckles. “I look good in anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Get on with it.”

“Imagine I come sprinting out from the train and you’re waiting there with open arms. This song is playing on the platform speakers. I ask you to dance just like we are now.” Kuroo watches you grin, feeling his heart flutter. “Then, imagine I tell you something.”

Unconsciously, you shift closer to him, almost pressing your body flush to his. A breath hitches in his throat. “What do you tell me?”

He leans down, brushes his lips against your ear. “I love you.”

You open your eyes, head cocked, slight confusion cloaking your features. “You mean, like…?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. I mean, like, I love you. Not just in a friend way. In that old fashioned way you were talking about. I love everything about you. I’m in love with everything about you.”

“Tetsu…” you breathe, searching his face. He gazes down at you seriously, not a trace of humor tainting his stare. He takes a deep breath.

“I love the way your hair falls in the summer. I love your stupid, annoying laugh. I love how your hand fits in mine. I love the way you rant about anything and everything and expect me to listen, and I do because I can’t help but get excited about what you get excited about. I love you like a soldier loves his wife,” he says, the words flowing out like a river bursting from a dam. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me, and I’m sorry if this ruins stuff between us, but I just had to--”

“Shut up.”

He blinks, mouth gaping. “I-- what?”

“I said,” you whisper, gripping the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours. “Shut up, Tetsu. You talk too much.”

Then suddenly you’re kissing him, and he can’t believe it, but he kisses you back like it’s what he was born to do. He lets you crash your lips into his and watches as shooting stars burst forth and the planets align. Somehow, your hands find their way up into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark locks, and his own travel down to your lower back, pulling you as close as humanly possible, so tightly he never wants to let go. He revels in the warmth of your skin, the icy, tingly sensation of your lips, and when you pull back, it’s all he can do to refrain from pulling you right back in again.

There’s a brief silence. His lips are swollen, his lungs are devoid of air. “I… wow. Just, wow.”

You grin wickedly, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you laugh. “You were too worried about not letting me notice you staring at my ass every chance you got.”

Kuroo flushes but gives a sheepish smile, massaging the back of his neck. “You know, I really thought I was being smooth about it.”

--

As it turns out, you love him back. And not just in the best friend way. You love everything about him, his stupid jokes, his loud, booming laugh, his teasing, his smile, his successes and his failures. You love how your hand fits in his. You love that it took him years and years to admit to himself that he loved you, too.

Kuroo Tetsurou may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s certainly the only one you want. And you’re certainly the only one he wants.

And that’s really the most you could ever ask for.

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo headcanons #kuroo tetsurou headcanons #kuroo imagines #kuroo tetsurō x reader #kuroo scenarios #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #friends to lovers

[insomniacrobyn]

Title: Stuck with me

Pairing: Zhongli x Reader

Reader: Gender neutral

A/N: i didn’t proof read this so. I started writing this earlier and I have finally finished it. Does it make sense? Hopefully. Any way enjoy my brain rot because I will be writing for Genshin content over the weekend hopefully.

It was a clear day in Liyue. It was the first good day in about a week. It was a nice break from the constant downpour. It was the perfect weather for commissions. (Y/N) walked up the familiar steps to the Liyue branch of the adventures guild. They greeted Lan who stood next to the notice board as they walked up to the counter. (Y/N) collected the four commissions which ranged from dealing with hilicurals to a ruin guard by Lingju Pass. These commissions weren’t new to them. They had done many commissions similar to these ones in the past. With a bit of pep to their step. (Y/N) crossed the bridge north of Liyue harbour.

(Y/N) breezed through the first three commissions. The only trouble was the final commission, where they had to deal with a ruin guard. They were exhausted from dealing with clearing two hilicural camps and defeating an abyss mage. The sun wasn’t helping either. The constant heat on their back made them uncomfortable and tired. Normally, (Y/N) would be able to defeat a ruin guard no problem giving it very little time to attack. However, this time it was getting attacks without much resistance from (Y/N).

The ruin guard had managed to corner them. It kept bringing its metal arms down on (Y/N)’s weapon. The sound of metal scraping and clunking overpowering the sounds of birds. (Y/N) knew that the only way out was to fight back if they wanted to get back to the harbour in one piece.

Zhongli had finished his work for the day in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and was walking through the harbour. His amber eyes taking in all the people who were out and about. The soundtrack of the harbour being merchants calling out for people to come to their stall, and customers haggling in hopes of getting the product cheaper. However, Zhongli was focused on spotting one person in particular. His eyes scanned the crowd for the familiar form of his lover.

They had left before the birds had even started singing and when merchants were setting up for the busy day. Zhongli had woken up to their side of the bed empty and a note outlined why they weren’t there. This left Zhongli to go through his morning routine alone. The house felt empty to Zhongli. He was so used to their form next to him as he made tea and they made breakfast.

Zhongli returned home after walking around the city. He sat by the wide at the front of the house watching the people go by as he waited. He watched as the sky turned from a bright blue to a golden orange. He knew they could handle themselves but his nerves started to get him as he began to worry about his lover. They should be back by now, sitting across from him telling him about his day.

He eventually gave up on waiting and decided to head to the adventures guild to see what commissions they were given. He grabbed his polearm and briskly walked to the guild. Katheryne summarized what the commissions were and watched as Zhongli left the city.

He checked the first three locations and quickly checked to see if he could see them. He finally made his way to Lingju Pass. He looked over to the arch way next to the collapsed tower as that was noted as the area the ruin guard was. He looked down from the waypoint hoping to see if he could spot (Y/N).

He could see the ruin guard in question wandering around. Zhongli quickly made his way towards his polearm clutched in his hand. He noted the blood on the ruin guards arm. When Zhongli saw that his blood ran cold. Memories of all the friends he has lost over the thousand of years crossing his mind in a flurry of images.

He wasted no time and defeated the ruin guard with no mercy. Once the ruin guard disappeared, Zhongli started to search the area. Calling out (Y/N)‘a name as he looked.

He walked past an area of tall grass and barely noticed the person laying on the ground. Zhongli stopped and scanned the body. Dread flooded Zhongli’s senses as he knelt down beside them.

“(Y/N)” he whispered, his hand cupping their cheek as his amber eyes scanned their face. Zhongli examined their chest. He left out a sigh of relief as he saw their chest rise and fall slowly. “Please be okay.” Zhongli prayed as he quickly began making his way back to the harbour.

He rushed home once he entered the city. He paid no mind to the people that stared at the normally composed man as he rushed past with his lover in his arms.

Childe had spotted them. He sighed at the sight, he wasn’t used to seeing Zhongli in such a state. He knew he couldn’t do much to put the man's mind at ease so instead opted to get medical supplies from Bubu pharmacy and place them at his front door.

Zhongli discarded his coat and rolled up his sleeves after placing (Y/N) on the sofa. He took off their top to get easier to the deep gashes he saw that ran down their abdomen. He began to clean the wound with water and then cleaned it with rubbing alcohol. Their face scrunched up in pain. “I’m sorry love.” Zhongli whispered as he dressed the wound and started to work on the other ones.

By the time Zhongli had treated every wound he saw it was late into the night. He was sitting on the floor next to them. He had answered the door when Childe was dropping off the supplies. They were sitting on the table by the front door. Zhongli was holding one of their hands his gloves discarded. He rubbed soothing circles into the back of their hand. His mind was reeling with the worst case scenarios.

He brought their hand up to his lips as he got up from his spot. He headed to the kitchen to make some tea, unaware of the movement on the couch.

“Zhongli?” A voice called out. He spun on his heel making his way back to the sofa, the water still boiling on the stove. He kneeled in front of them his hand quickly grabbing theirs.

“My love, how do you feel? Are you hurting anywhere?” Zhongli quizzed as he cupped their cheek. “No I’m okay. How did I get back home though?” (Y/N) asked, their eyes darting around the room and landing on their weapon and bag which was tucked away in the corner of the room. It looked out of place there. Normally that kind of material was kept in the cupboard in the hall out of the way.

“I brought you home. I became quite concerned when you hadn’t returned home by dusk.” Zhongli answered, his amber eyes studying their face as their brow furrowed.

“Oh.”

“My love, please bring me next time you have to fight a ruin guard. You could have died if I hadn’t arrived.”

Zhongli watched their reaction quietly taking in the way their eyes darted to his at the end. He got up from his spot and motioned for them to wait there. He finished making the tea and came back with two cups and the teapot.

“Here. You must be thirsty after all the heat today would have made any dehydrated.” Zhongli hummed as he placed the delicate teacup in their hand after helping them to sit up. (Y/N) took it graciously as they sipped on the drink.

The couple sat in silence as (Y/N) rested their head on Zhongli’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I worried you.” (Y/N) announced breaking the silence that encased the room. Zhongli glanced at them from the corner of his eye.

“I’m happy that you are safe (Y/N). I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.” He replied staring out the window.

“Well, I’m afraid to tell you you are stuck with me for another while.” (Y/N) joked.

“I don’t think I would mind that at all. I quite enjoy your company.” Zhongli smiled. They laughed and gave Zhongli a kiss on the cheek.

“I think love that I deserve more than that especially after the worry you gave me.” Zhongli teased as he leaned towards the kiss them. (Y/N) just smiled closing the gap with a sweet kiss.

“I suppose you do.” They teased back as they leaned against his shoulder. Zhongli’s hand now wrapped around their waist protectively. He hummed and placed a kiss on the crown of their head. Then resting his cheek on their head as he let his eyes close.

The bliss of the moment reminded Zhongli why he gave up his gnosis. If he hadn’t he would more than likely not be able to enjoy the comfort he felt at this moment, knowing his lover was returned to him. Injured but by his side where he could watch them and keep them out of harms way.

#genshin zhongli #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli #genshin impact imagines

[feelin-woozy]

Title: Peach Pit

Word Count: 1294

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

Warnings: S/lf h/rm, mentions of c/tting, depression, heavy angst, hurt and comfort. 🚨We gotta vent piece, boys🚨

It’s not that Bo isn’t aware of this particular problem, but as usual, with issues that require a degree of empathy and tact that he cannot bring himself to possess, it gets swept under the rug. It leaves a noticeable rumple that sometimes the two of you trip and stumble over, but neither of you dares utter a word on it. It was a known secret that hung heavily in the air, but you’d prefer to suffocate than bring it up. Bo seems to share your sentiments.

For once, there isn’t an argument. Dishes aren’t broken, plaster isn’t cracked with fist shaped indents, and water lines aren’t red-rimmed and puffy. There was no point in stoking the flames of an already dying fire; just as you don’t stoke the flames of his trauma, he doesn’t pour gas on yours. Your scars are similar. Neat raised lines criss-cross over your wrists, some even marring your shoulder. They’re different enough from Bo’s own that he doesn’t understand, but similar enough, he knows to hold tongue.

A part of Bo sees himself in the scars that paint your skin.

Overlooking this works, at least till the flames begin to grow once more. They lick at your heels in a way that you both know cannot be ignored for long; someone will get burned. And maybe that was the point, and perhaps that worried Bo more than he cares to admit. It starts with you withdrawing, your spitfire attitude simmering down into lazy smirks and distant gazes. He doesn’t think much of it at the time, not till your visits to the garage begin to dwindle. From then, it unravels fast. Fast enough, he can’t grab the thread and singe off the end.

Dinner is made, but most nights, it’s just a plate of food that rests at his spot at the table with you, nowhere to be found. The only reason he doesn’t lash out at you for it, complaining about you not joining him, is that he knows you at least had gotten out of bed to make dinner. That was enough for him. This only goes on for about a week. It’s as long as Bo can go with pretending that this isn’t a problem and that you two didn’t need to talk about it.

It’s nearly seven-thirty, the sun leaving an explosion of deep reds and oranges against the black tree line as the evening begins its descent into dusk. You hadn’t made dinner, and Bo has the sneaking suspicion that you hadn’t bothered to leave the bed today.

He wants to be annoyed, wants to bitch at you and tell you to go clean up the used knives resting precariously on the edge of the sink coated in sticky strawberry jelly and peanut butter. Seeing as how you hadn’t bothered to make dinner, you could at least clean up his mess. Bo wants to let the few beers raising his blood alcohol level swallow the worry and sadness he feels whole, to let it shift into something ugly and angry. Something he knows how to deal with.

Bo’s steps are heavy against the stairs, each step he takes creaking under his weight. He makes his way to your shared bedroom and listens carefully before the backs of his knuckles rap against the varnish of the door. There’s no response, so he presses forward. A calloused hand curls around the brass knob and slowly pushes open. Bo expects to see a lump on the bed covered in the thin sheets and making you look like nothing more than a corpse. Instead, he’s met with rumbled sheets pulled back to the foot of the bed.

You’re there, but you’re sitting there, legs dangling over your side of the bed with neat little lines that go up a quarter of your arms and drip with red. Bo would have rathered your corpse-like appearance over this. He stares at you, mouth going uncomfortably dry.

You don’t look at him, your eyes remaining glued to your lap. But he watches the way your knuckles blanche as your grip on the knife tightens. He watches the way your body trembles just barely.

Bo isn’t sure what to say, for once you have rendered him utterly speechless. Every time he opens his mouth, the words catch in his throat, suffocating and dying before the sound can travel beyond. He feels like a fish out of water gaping at you in a way that is sure to make you uncomfortable. It’s not that he wants to stare, but he’s paralyzed as thoughts swirl through his head with the force of a typhoon.

Thoughts of was he a bad boyfriend? Which was immediately shot down with a self chastise that this wasn’t about him. Then he thinks about how he was supposed to deal with this. How was he supposed to give you the care and compassion you deserve that he feels unable to provide. At the root of each thought, his worry for you shakes him to his core in a way that is utterly foreign to him.

He swallows the thoughts down like a dry meal without any beverage. They catch on the way down, lodging uncomfortable, but Bo pushes through. He opens the closet doors, wincing as the joints squeal with the movement before he grabs the first aid kit that rests on the shelf inside. Then he moves and quickly grabs a box of kleenex that sat on the dresser. He comes to sit at your side and wordlessly takes the knife you clutch, resting it on the side table.

With gentle hands, Bo begins to clean you up.

You still don’t meet his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to, too afraid of what you might find over his hardened features. The silence Bo brings only makes it worse. When he looks at you, he can catch a glimpse of abject mortification that paints your features.

“‘M not mad.” Bo finally settles on saying as he tosses a bloodied tissue into the waste bin next to the bed. He opens the kit to grab some bandages, working on your arm with the same meticulous hands that you see Vincent use with his sculptures. “Just wish you’d a’ come to me. Know why ya didn’t but wish ya had.”

Finally, you lift your gaze to stare at him. Your lower lip quivers and tears threaten to spill over your waterline in fat globs. You don’t see disgust, and true to his word, you don’t see anger either. All you see swimming in those blue eyes is anguish. It hurts, but it hurts less than the humiliation that would come had he spat cruel words at you.

“I’ll come to you next time.” You murmur. The guilt that came with holding his gaze had begun to eat away at you; you let your eyes fall to stare down at your freshly bandaged arms. Hints of red beginning to speckle through the gauze. The sight alone makes you want to break down in a fit of tears. “I promise.”

“Good.” Bo pulls you in close, and the smell of grease and cigarette washes over you like a warm blanket; his touch is equal parts gentle as it is grounding and firm. He turns his head and presses a light kiss to your temple. “Don’t ever wanna lose you.”

The corners of your lips curl up just barely as the tears finally spill and your body trembles in his hold. “I love you too, Bo.” You whisper the words into the thick material of his coveralls; you don’t worry about messing up the clothing with your tears and snot. Especially not as a strong hand soothes over the curve of your spine.

#Bo Sinclair x Reader #Bo Sinclair x You #Bo Sinclair #House of Wax #House of Wax 2005 #Slasher x You #Slasher x Reader #my writing #tw: sh #also thanks 2 her-darkest-materials for encouraging me to write a vent piece to work through some shit #<3