#i used to have nightmares about green pants

[bigification]

Jealousy Jealousy

Strong, loyal, dedicated. All words used by the boss to describe me, and every word seemed like a knife in the back of my roommate. I can hear it in the way he talks to me, ever since I joined the military all he ever seems to be is jealous. I've always been stronger and more dedicated than him, he's smarter but that doesn't even matter that much.

The walk back to our room is awkward. It is completely silent and I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. I wanted so badly to be friends with him, but he makes it impossible. I've always worked out and kept my body in good shape, and apparently that's unforgivable to him.

We get back to our room and he immediately goes rummaging through his stuff. I pace back and forth, debating whether I should talk to him. It's hard living with him and I just want things to be civil between us.

"Hey man, I wanted to ta-" I'm interrupted when he quickly swings around and jabs something into my stomach. I look down and see a needle sticking into the side of my stomach. I feel frozen with fear, I can't talk, almost as if there is something stuck in my throat. I let out a groan as he pushes the end of the needle, injecting a green liquid into my body.

"I'm tired of being in your shadow, let's see how long you'll last after this." He monologues like some cartoon villain. What does he even mean by that, was that some kind of poison? Is he killing me just because the boss likes me more.

I stumble back against the wall, I feel weak but it hurts less than I thought it would. Although my stomach feels like it's boiling.

Am I dreaming... It feels more like a nightmare. But it must be a nightmare. I see a lump form under my shirt, and it seems to grow every time I blink. It can't be real, but it feels so real. The lump grows until it looks like I have a little belly. Do I have a belly? It's growing faster and faster until my shirt becomes untucked. It finally stops after growing into a sizable beer belly, making it impossible for me to see my feet. Maybe he gave me drugs, maybe this is just a bad trip. But it feels so real.

It doesn't end with the beer belly. Next my pecs start to swell. Something I worked so hard on is gone in seconds. I see them soften into a pair of man tits, growing until they press against my shirt. I always swore I would never let myself go like my father did, but I guess that's a lie. At least it took him until his thirties to get fat, I can't even make it to my late twenties without pigging out.

I still have no idea what's happening to me. It's getting harder and harder to think. I was thinking about... Something about pigging out. It must be because I love pigging out, that's how I got this belly.

As I'm trying to think, my body continues to grow. I hear the button on my pants pop off and feel the pressure release. I think my ass is growing, not that I mind. I feel my body being pushed further and further away from the wall as fat spilled into my ass.

Why does my crotch feel so tight? I could have sworn it didn't feel this tight a moment ago. I don't really care anyway, I can't even remember why I should care.

My pants strain against the fat filling my legs, I think I can even hear some rips tearing through them. My arms follow suit, softening up my defined muscles and fattening up my hands. Better off that way if you ask me, fatter hands means better belly rubs, and I like belly rubs.

I feel an itchiness engulf my body as a thick pelt of hair covers my skin. My arms, my legs, my chest, and most importantly my belly become a forest of sweaty hair.

My body finally relaxed and I let out a loud burp. Oh... I'm so hungry. I rub my belly trying to get any relief. It's all I can think of. Wasn't I stressed about something? What would I have been stressed about, maybe I was just hungry.

"How ya feeling big guy?" My roommate asks me.

"I'm so hungry." I cry out.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a diet?" He teases me.

"Why the fuck would I be on a diet. This is the mark of a true man!" I say as I slap my gut.

"Well I'm sure this box of donuts won't hurt your fitness assessment next week, and they won't eat themselves." He pulls out a dozen donuts. It feels like I lose control of my body as I instinctively ravage the donuts.

I lean back after finishing off the last donut and let out a loud burp. God I'm stuffed, but I want so much more. I rub my belly, trying to process the snack I just had, so I can make room for more.

"There's plenty more where that came from, big guy."

Credits to bulkgainer92 for the video and for inspiring this story.

#male tf #male transformation #male wg #fat tf #masculine #hairy #reality change #military tf

[certainlynotasimp]

OH MY GOD. THE WAY I JUST SCREAMED IN MY PILLOW BECAUSE OF YOUR NEW SUNNY FIC AGDGJAEGAJAVSG ITS SOSOSOS CUTE I CANT BREATHEHEHEHEHE. it got me thinking…sunny and miggy are perfect for the one bed trope 😭😭😭😭😭 just imagine miggy acting like it doesn’t effect him, sleeping in the same bad as sunny. i’m already giggling thinking about it. PLEASE WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT WHEN YOU HAVE THE TIME 😭🙏

As Warm As You.

Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader

A/N: OMG! Thank you so much for the love and the request! 💕🤍 I personally never read anything from this trope, but I think I made something that can satisfy your fluffy craving😅. But I added some Sunny lore, so maybe this will make up for my ignorance. I’m also sorry it’s kinda short.

A/N: I haven’t seen the movie yet, but this shouldn’t be harmed by it maybe. Also I would like to say that I am using Google Translate for the Spanish phrases I use, so if you are fluent in Mexican Spanish (I think that’s what you call phrases and sayings more common in Mexico.), please comment some criticism my way. Thank you!🤍

Warnings: Trauma, Nightmares, comfort, fluffy bits, One Bed, Miguel is a secret softie, No Use of YN ((Sunny is her nickname, not her name name)), Female pronouns, Google Translate Spanish, Established relationship?

——————-

“Ben?…Ben!”

The little spider’s scream cuts through the screeching sirens. The smog hung around the air as the dying flames stained the sky. Too many flames…Too many places to be at once.

The red staining the dark costume caused bile to build up as the search becomes more desperate.

I have to find him.

The dull pain from nails bending and breaking as the rumble falls around her shaking frame. The choked panting caused the Doctor to find his friend quite easily. His friend desperately searching for something. Someone.

Why can’t I find him?

The question is answered with a patch of dark hair appears under a pile of rumble, the tips stained in red. There was so much…why is there so much…

A howl of pain rings out of the young woman’s throat as she clings to the body, her mentor just steps behind her, helpless as to how he can help her.

No one can help her. Like how no one helped her Ben.

——

A faint flash of orange alerts the sleeping man out of his endless dream. He looks around and doesn’t notice anyone at first. Miguel sighs, his paranoia running wild as he almost thought an enemy broke into his apartment, not that it would be a first. As he lays back down to sleep, a slight drag against the floor brings the hairs on the back of his neck to life.

He may not have a spider-sense, but he certain knew when someone was watching him. His talons burrow at as the sound patters closer to his bed. With out hesitation, he lunges towards the noise, his hands catching the form of an invisible figure as he rams them into the wall. A yelp with a whiff of vanilla and lavender stops him from ripping the invisible person’s throat out.

“Cariño?…” Miguel whispers as he retracts his claws. A faint whimpering emerges from the solid unseen being in front of him as her body materializes in the moonlight. The lines of her spider suit glowing an ethereal green as her mask disintegrates, revealing her tear stained face.

“What are you doing?” His eyebrows furrow as he looks at her suspiciously, despite knowing that she was the only one he knows wouldn’t hurt him. His mind blurs his confusion and frustration as he steps back to allow her to recover from being slammed into the wall. Certainly there wasn’t a big enough emergency that the beloved residential ray of sunshine would leave her room at The Lobby to break into his dimension, and bedroom to come get him.

“You know better than to use the gizmo to…” His scolding comes to a halt when the young woman hugs his figure, burning her head into his firm chest.

His shirt becomes wet with her tears as she sobs. The realization hits him as she whimpers into his touch.

She had the dream again.

No. She had the memory again.

His arms wrapped around her short frame as he buried his nose into her hair. Her scent filled the hole of sorrow her cries burned into him. As he rubs her back, her cries eventually stopped as she pulls away from him, an apology already waiting on her lips.

“I’m sorry, Miggy…it was really bad this time…” She mutters as she tries wiping her tears away as she forces a shy smile.

She felt ashamed for bothering him. Miguel was a busy man and she could have just stayed in her room at The Lobby, but the screams were too much.

His screams were too much.

Miguel doesn’t respond as he heads over to his dresser, pulling open a drawer. His face remaining emotionless as he retrieves a sweatshirt that sparked her familiarity.

The old gray crew neck sweatshirt with a fraying collar and mysterious stains along the sleeves. The old golden initials of NYU were cracked and picked apart due to many trips in the wash and anxious tendencies. A faint blush appears as she remembers the first time she ever saw that sweatshirt, the memory being one of her favorite…it was the first time she felt so warm since that day…

Miguel attracts her attention again when he rolls up the fabric in his hands and forces the neck over her head. Her hair sticking awkwardly as she peers up at Miguel in awe at how caring he was despite his annoyed expression.

“Brazos arriba, Sunshine.” He whispers as he helps her arms through the sleeves. She blindly follows him like a student being instructed. The taller spider stands back as he raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“I appreciate that you enjoy the suit I made you, mi luz.” Miguel states with a slight teasing smile. “But you probably wanna be more comfortable for bed.”

“Oh yea…” The small spider blushes in embarrassment as she disintegrates her suit back into her gizmo device. A shiver travels up her spine as the cold air on her legs, leaving her almost exposed except for the old sweatshirt.

“Now then,” Miguel sighs as he walks back over to his bed and crawls back under the covers. “I have several meetings in the morning, so I need to sleep.”

The little spider shuffles in her spot for a few moments as Miguel closes his eyes, getting ready to sleep again. With a nail between her teeth, the girl heads for the door to go find the couch when Miguel clears his throat. She turns back to look at him when she sees the covers beside him pulled back. Miguel’s open eye glaring at her as he groans. “It would be a lot easier for me to leave in the morning if you are in here and not in my way.”

A warm smile forms on her face as she excitedly comes into his bed. Miguel’s front facing her as his burgundy gaze burns with false annoyance and exhaustion. Miguel sighs as he feels the smaller being’s weight snuggles into his broad chest as expected.

“Thank you, Miggy.” She whispers. Her eyes peering up at him with gratitude and an emotion that only shines for him, his own secret that he will die to keep to himself.

Miguel rolls his eyes as his eyes meet hers, his warm cheeks hidden by the darkness. “Go to sleep, Cariño. You’re gonna need it for training.”

She giggles as she wraps her arms around his waist like a teddy bear. “Sweet Dreams, mi bonita araña..” She mumbles as she closes her eyes. His warmth fills the coldness of her nightmares as sleep draws her to peaceful breaths. Miguel remains frozen for a few moments as he makes sure she is deep in REM sleep before his gaze softens.

His rapidly beating heart acts as her lullaby as he places a kiss on her crown.

“Sweet dreams, mi vida…” He whispers into her scalp as his arms loom around her, acting as her shield before he slips into a sweet slumber in his light’s embrace.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader

[wannab-urs]

Scandal

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Prompt: Forced Proximity + “You’re going to get us arrested” / “I always wanted to see you in handcuffs.”

Summary: You get locked in a closet with Dieter at the Oscars

Warnings: semi public smut; forced proximity; reader has hair that can have bobby pins in it, is able bodied, is wearing a dress, and is an actress; the barest hint of enemies to lovers, but not really. WC: 1.6k

A/N: Written for a Dieter Bravo Brainrot Server event. Thanks to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @atinylittlepain, and @pr0ximamidnight for reading it for me <3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You just need to take a breather, that’s all. The Oscars can be a lot for an actress with social anxiety – there’s a million directors, former costars, and producers all vying for a conversation with you, not to mention the cameras catching you from every angle. And to make matters worse, they’ve allowed paparazzi into the lobby this year. 

There’s a coat closet just down this hallway, if you can just remember which door it is. You walk down the ornate hallway and find a door cracked open just slightly, the smell of weed emanating from the gap. You push the door open and step in, closing it tightly behind you. And you should have known from the smell alone who you’d find on the other side. 

None other than Dieter Bravo. 

“Shouldn’t have closed the door.” 

“And you shouldn’t be smoking in here. You’re stinking up everyone’s coats.”

“No, you really shouldn’t have closed the door. We’re locked in now.” 

“What?” Your voice hits a high frequency. You do not want to be locked in a closet with this particular former costar. You try the door anyway and find that he’s telling the truth. 

“I told you.” 

“Fuck, Dieter. You could have warned me!”

He chooses not to respond, taking another hit of his joint instead. He holds his hand out in offering, but you shake your head. Being high and trapped sounds like a recipe for paranoid disaster. 

You slump to the floor, pouting, but grateful they gave you a dress you can actually move around in this year. Dieter sits cross legged across the closet from you. There are coats lining either side of the walls. 

His usually fluffy curls are slicked back and styled to perfection. His nasty green bathrobe and pajama pants have been replaced by a billowing white shirt and fitted black pants. He’s even wearing real shoes. He looks… good. And he’s surprisingly clear eyed for someone smoking an entire joint. 

“You look nice,” Dieter comments. You look down at your dress – the color was chosen specifically to contrast well with your skin tone. The cut shows just enough bust and highlights your body shape. It’s a good dress. 

“Thanks, Dee. I was just thinking the same about you.”

“Oh were you now?” 

You roll your eyes. “Not like that, Dieter. You just clean up nice, is all.”

“I’m not um…” he trails off. 

“Not on coke anymore? I can tell.”

You and Dieter had worked on a project together a couple years ago. It was in the height of his coke addiction and working with him had been an absolute nightmare. He’d show up for work absolutely out of his mind, having screaming matches with the director, the producers, you. And that was if he showed up at all. The project had never even made it to production, leaving you worried your career was ruined. You fucking hated Dieter Bravo. 

But you could never deny how adorable he is. 

“Yeah. Cleaned up. Went to rehab. The whole shebang.”

“That’s good, Dee. Really.” 

You let your head fall back against the door, exposing the line of your throat to possibly the world's horniest man.

“You look really good in that dress.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

You peek an eye open and see Dieter is already halfway across the floor, crawling to you on his hands and knees. He’s pouting at you. 

“What else do we have to do right now?”

You sigh and try the door one more time for good measure, reaching up behind you and tugging on the door handle. Still locked tight. Dieter grins and crawls even closer, settling between your thighs. He reaches out and strokes his thumb across your cheek. You can’t help but lean into it. 

“Always thought you were so beautiful.”

“Sure, Dee,” you scoff 

“I did. I do. Can I kiss you?” 

“Sure, Dee,” you whisper breathlessly. 

He presses his lips to yours gently at first. His lips are soft and plush against yours and you can’t help but deepen the kiss. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours, hot and wet. Arousal sweeps through you and you bury your hands in his gorgeous curls, holding him against you. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap. You gasp, causing the kiss to break as your core comes into contact with the hard line of his cock in his trousers. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Dieter mutters into your throat, pressing kisses down into your cleavage. 

He lays you flat on the floor and scoots back, settling on his belly in between your thighs and rucking your dress up to your hips. 

“Dieter, you’re going to get us arrested for public indecency.”

“First of all, I’ve always wanted to see you in handcuffs,” he presses a kiss to your left thigh. “And secondly, I don’t see anyone here to catch us,” he kisses your right thigh, higher up this time. 

He hooks his thumb in the gusset of your panties, stroking your already soaked folds. You moan as quietly as you can. 

“So wet for me, already.” 

You groan as he pulls your panties to the side and buries his face in your cunt. There’s no build up, he eats you like he’s ravenous, like he hasn’t eaten in days. His curved nose grinds into your clit as he laps at your hole. His tongue plunges inside you over and over and you can already feel your core tightening. He slips two fingers in to replace his tongue, drawing circles on your clit with the point of it now. You cry out, much louder than you mean to be, than you need to be. His left hand comes up to cover your mouth, his face now hovering above yours as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. 

“Quiet now, love. Wouldn’t want to get arrested for public indecency.”

The bastard. He thrusts his fingers into you a few more times and you’re coming all over his hand. You bite down on his palm to keep from screaming. He draws his fingers out of you slowly and rights your panties for you. He sucks your come off his fingers like it’s cake batter, letting out a little moan of his own at the taste. 

The door handle jiggles and you both freeze. Just as the lock turns, Dieter grabs you and rolls you both under the lowest level of coats on the side of the closet. You’re on top of him, breathing heavily into his neck. Someone comes in, grabs their coat, and leaves the room, pulling the door closed behind them. 

Dieter goes to roll you both back out but you stop him. You press a kiss to his very exposed throat. 

“I love this shirt. Very Mr. Darcy.”

“It is romantic isn’t it?” 

You drag your lips down his throat to his chest, pressing a kiss to the lowest bit of exposed skin. Your hands find the clasp on his fancy black pants, but you can’t quite get them open.

“The one time you don’t wear easy access pants…” 

“Here, let me.”

You both fumble for a moment before the clasp finally comes open and his cock springs out. 

“No underwear?”

“The lines were showing too bad.”

“Mmhmm,” you quirk an eyebrow at him. 

You wrap his cock in your hand. It’s long, curved a little, and not terribly thick. 

“Pretty,” you mutter before taking the tip in your mouth. He gasps as you suck him down. You swirl your tongue around his head, then flatten it out and let him fill your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you suppress a cough, pushing him further down. His hands flutter into your hair as you start bobbing your head, sucking him down over and over again. He doesn’t push or pull you, simply rests his hands on the back of your head. 

You pull off him and lick a stripe up the seam of his balls as you stroke his cock. You suck one into your mouth, rolling it gently on your tongue, then switch to the other. 

“I’m gonna–”

You take his cock down your throat again, wanting to swallow his cum. You suck hard on the tip and then drop your lips down to the base as he comes in your mouth. His hips stutter beneath you and he groans. 

You let his softening cock fall out of your mouth and press a kiss to his hip bone. He strokes the back of your head reverently. 

“We should get cleaned up,” you whisper, your voice rough. 

Dieter sighs, but helps you get back to your feet. You take in his rumpled appearance and know you can’t look much better. His chest is covered in lipstick, as is his face. His hair is an absolute mess. His outfit is askew and wrinkled to hell. 

You help him fix his outfit, rub the lipstick off his skin, and finger comb his hair back into some semblance of a style. He pulls bobby pins out of your hair and stows them in his pockets, letting your hair down from the hours of work the stylist did. He smooths out your dress as best as he can. 

“We look…”

“Like we just fucked on the floor of a closet?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a bobby pin from his pocket and picks the lock on the door. 

“You could have done that the whole time?” 

Dieter doesn’t answer. He stands and takes your hand in his and pulls the door open. You’re immediately inundated with camera flashes. The paparazzi have found you. Your agent is going to kill you. 

“I fucking hate you,” you halfheartedly fuss at Dieter. This scandal will be fun to deal with... 

#Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader

[lovebugism]

for fictober could I request from the 50 autumnal prompts ‘when he wears THAT flannel’ with Eddie please?

we were so robbed of Eddie all boyfriend in soft cosy clothes. R wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of him and he’d love it come autumn when it’s all he wears.

ugh imagine him in like thick baggy sweaters and when he reaches up it just exposes a bit of tummy 😍 I’m like a Victorian seeing ankles

love you xoxo

hi angel! idk how i managed to make this angsty, but alas! hope you like it :D

summary: you and eddie try to get used to life post-vecna but it's not nearly as easy as you thought it'd be (post st4, established relationship, wee bit of angst tw for mentions of death and scars, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie’s pretty much recovered by mid-fall.

Not totally. But mostly.

You think getting away from Hawkins helped the most — moving out of the city and settling further in the green. Even though everyone back home eventually understood that Eddie wasn’t the psycho-killing freak they made him out to be, things had changed far too much to ever go back to normal again.

Something’s break beyond repair. Something’s just can’t be fixed.

Not your Eddie, though. Eddie’s perfect. Damn near it, anyway, considering the circumstances.

He’s still got the nightmares and the phantom pains — even though he tells you he doesn’t. But he’s graduated now and helping Wayne at the car shop whenever he can. He’s taking the newfound normalcy in stride, spending early autumn with you and making you hot chocolate like nothing ever happened.

“You like marshmallows in your cocoa, right?” he calls from the kitchen, though he sounds like he’s talking mostly to himself.

You hear him, but you forget to answer. Your brain all but short circuits at how pretty he looks. 

You eye him from the couch while he bustles in the kitchen, and gutwrenching existentialism knocks the wind from your lungs like a fist to the stomach. 

You weren’t supposed to have Eddie again. You weren’t supposed to share a home like you always dreamed about, and he wasn’t supposed to make you hot cocoa or keep you warm when autumn got too bitter. 

A season or more ago, you were saying your goodbyes while he bled out in an alternate dimension. 

You haven’t yet forgotten how pale his skin had gotten or how glassy his chocolate eyes grew as the life spilled from the weeping bites on his stomach. The feeling of his blood, slimy on your hands and drenching your clothes, hasn’t yet left you. The red-hot blood in the unnatural navy blue cold still lives in your head.

But it’s only there. In your head.

And Eddie’s right in front of you — wild hair, baggy pajama pants, and all. You can smell the musk of his cologne and the floral of his shampoo. He’s real enough to touch. 

He’s real.

The realization hits you every day, all the time. It wells from your chest up into your throat and makes you feel like crying. Most people don’t get to say goodbye to their soulmate and eat Wednesday morning breakfast with them months later. 

You’ve got so much gratitude inside you, bursting like golden rays of sunshine, that you don’t know what to do with it all.

“Babe?” he calls again when you don’t answer. “Did you hear me?”

He pokes his head in the doorway, and your eyes go wide. “Huh? What?” you stammer, shaking your head to jerk yourself out of your stupor.

Eddie laughs, high and boyish. It sounds like heaven, and it pierces your heart. Six months ago, you never thought you’d hear it again. “I asked if you wanted marshmallows, weirdo.”

You nod rapidly and ramble an answer. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Thank you.”

“O-kay,” Eddie lilts, though his voice wavers with confusion. His grin widens and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t ask why you’re acting so suddenly strange. 

You wonder if he’s used to it by now. You wonder if he knows when you go quiet that you’re remembering that a part of you nearly died.

He returns to the kitchen and reaches for the upper cupboard. A sliver of his milky white tummy peeks from beneath his flannel. You can see the bites from here. They’re scarred over now, dark red and light pink and thunder-strike purple. It almost jars you how healed they look. The wounds are still fresh and weeping whenever you close your eyes.

Eddie comes in from the living room, balancing two mugs in his hands rather carefully because he’s filled them to the brim. He’s got his usual ceramic Campbell’s Tomato Soup cup in one hand and your sleeping Snoopy in the other. The innate domesticity makes your stomach whirl.

“You okay?” the boy wonders with pinched brows when he hands you your cocoa.

You nod with glittering eyes, mustering a faint smile up at him. The mug warms your chilled, trembling hands. 

“Mm-hmm… Why?” you question, though you’re more than aware of why. 

Eddie’s got a knack for knowing how you’re feeling before you’ve even hinted at it. You think he might’ve got mind-reading powers when you were in the Upside Down.

“I don’t know. You just looked a little… far away, I guess.”

“Just missed you,” you confess with a bright, innocent gaze.

Eddie snorts as he rounds the couch to sit next to you. “While I was in the kitchen ten feet away?”

“Yeah. ’S way too far.”

“Well, remind me to carry you with me wherever I go, then.”

You know he’s joking, but you beam anyway. You don’t want to be anywhere that he isn’t. You don’t want him to go where you can’t follow. 

Eddie takes a sip and smiles at your smiling. His grin is crooked and rosy and lined with whipped cream. He leans in to kiss you with it. 

You pull back from him, just far enough to wipe the melted sugar off with the pad of your thumb. You give him a smacking peck a second later.

With a kissed grin, the boy leans back against the couch with his arm sprawled along the back of it. You curl into his side like his own personal puzzle piece, nestling your mug between your bodies with one hand and settling your free one on his stomach.

Your fingers seem to gravitate beneath his fuzzy flannel without you having to think twice about it. 

Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, either. His attention is consumed by the television — a Scooby Doo re-run he’s probably seen a thousand times. His chuckle rumbles against your cheek. You laugh along with him, made content by the sound of his boyish delight.

Your fingers dance through the fuzz of his happy trail, then settle on something softer. 

The marred skin of his warm tummy feels like silk. Before you realize what you’re touching, the boy beneath you jolts.

You nearly spill your cooling cocoa when you freeze alongside him. You part from Eddie with a gaping gaze, wide eyes darting over every inch of his face. You’re frightened that you’ve hurt him, but his pink grin only widens.

“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” you blurt. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Eddie turns to you, then. His features are blurry with sleep, and they twist with confusion at your misplaced concern. 

“No,” he answers with the shake of his head. The softened ends of his chocolate curls brush your cheek. A laugh sputters from his mouth. “It just tickled, babe. It’s fine.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It wavers on the way out, but you manage a trembling smile anyway. “Oh. Okay,” you hum, breathless. 

“Yeah. ’S okay,” Eddie murmurs softly back, wrapping his pale arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and lingers there. “I’m okay,” he whispers into your hair.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

[aphrodisiaxcunt]

Fading echoes II

Keegan x GN!reader

Keegan is still acting distant. When you bring up your worries about your relationship with him, things admittedly go south

Content: Angst, depressive, trauma ig, gn!reader, Keegan sucks!, slow fic, arguing, mild violence, cursing, name calling

Part 1, This is PART 2! Part 3, Finale

If links don't work use masterlist

!Keegans lines are red, reader lines are green

Word count: 1064, Reading time: 5~ minutes

You wake up in a cold sweat from a nightmare and notice that Keegan isn't in bed. Confused and agitated, you nearly fly out of bed. Storming into the kitchen, when your legs stop into a halt. He's right there, casually sipping his coffee.

"Where are you going?" you demand an answer. "I ain't goin' anywhere, just having a coffee. Is that allowed?" Feeling slightly embarrassed and even more agitated by his nonchalant response. It's adding to how badly your nerves are acting up, you sit down. The kitchen chair squeaking under your weight quietly. You stay silent for a while, but it's killing you to keep your mouth shut for so long. You finally let out the thought running in your head, begging for his attention, "I just thought you left again because you weren't in bed..."

Looking down, you can't help but feel lonely in this whole situation, the looming feeling that Keegan is pushing you away is horrid. Your heart wrenches and your head drops down to look at your legs. The world going quiet. Vision going blurry and contorting into a pinpoint, you start breathing heavily.

"You hear me?" Keegan's voice snaps you out of the panic. 'Hm..?' you manage to pull out a questioning, quiet hum deep from your throat.

"I asked what you wanted from the store." Oh. He didn't even answer your confession. Your gut drops with your face, staring at your legs. "Nothing, thanks baby.." you mutter, fixing your gaze to the fluffy pajama pants you have on, softly pulling and nipping on the fabric of your pants for comfort. He finishes up his drink, getting up from his chair and heading over to the hallway. While putting his shoes on he clicks his tongue, calling Riley over. Rileys paws softly thudding on the floor as he jumps off the couch and runs to Keegan to have his leash be put on.

After Keegan left to the grocery store with Riley, you were again left alone with the familiarly unbearable silence of your apartment. You've been pacing around for fifteen minutes now. Your feet scrambling for some sort of direction as you walk around the coffee table in the living room for probably fiftieth time by now.

You don't understand. Why is Keegan so unbelievably distant? Should you bring it up? Stopping your mantra of walking around in a circle, you let out a sigh and droop to sit down onto your couch. Sinking into the leather you make up your mind, surely Keegan would want you to bring up issues in the relationship. Leaning your head back over the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling you start to think of what you want to bring up. And especially how you are going to bring it up.

Hearing Keegans keys rattle in the lock makes you lift your head up, eyes searching for the hallway. Riley is the first one you notice, as he runs into the living room and jumping next to you on the couch still panting from his time outside. You hear Keegan rustling the shopping bags in the kitchen and find yourself walking over to him. Gently placing your hand over his back to signal you're behind him, you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Keegan, I'd like to talk to you about something.." Your voice is soft and quiet as you gently rub his back. He puts the rest of the groceries into the fridge and turns to you, a tired look on his face. "Alright, let's talk." His voice is opposite of yours. It's harsh and cold. It makes you feel a little worried about talking to him. What if he's in a bad mood again? It can't be a good time to talk. "I just-" You start your sentence, getting a defensive stance from Keegan as a response "I'm worried about you, about us. I understand you've just gotten home from a mission but you can't ignore me for days, it's unfair.." When the words leave your lips Keegans whole demeanor changes, he crosses his arms and scoffs. Leaning back into the counter he starts talking. "Oh, you think it's unfair? God forbid, that I get a little time, after being away from home for months." He laughs almost in an offended way "God fucking forbid, I don't want your clingy fucking ass on me the second i get back!"

His yelling shocks you to your core, taking a step back from him and staring up at him with an open mouth, you can't help but scoff back at him, you've been understanding of his situation for the whole time you two have been dating. The entire time since day one you've been his rock, given him everything he needs to decompress and feel welcome at home again. "Well I'm so sorry your highness, but I don't know if you've noticed but we're in a relationship! We're supposed to communicate our issues!" You raising your voice at him clearly does not sit well with him, his relaxed position changes and he takes a step towards you. Seriously? Is he really trying to intimidate you right now? Now of all times, he decides to do so. "You have been nothing but a pain in my ass since I came home. You're a selfish, useless and leeching bitch!" That's it, the mocking is stepping over your line and you slap him in the face with an audible smacking sound. Keegans movements are fast. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him, forcing a wince out from your lips when you try to pull your arm back. His grip tightening on you.

"You don't fucking slap me. Do you understand? You don't pull shit like that on me, do you understand!?" You look up at him looming over you, your face turns to a mix of anger and disgust from his threatening aura.

"You're just like your mother." You snarl out, his eyes narrowing before you feel an open palm hitting your cheek. It stings, the hypocritical slap to your face makes you go quiet. Feeling his hand loosen on your wrist, taking it as a chance and snatching your arm back to yourself. Tears forming in your eyes you glare up at him and gently pull your own hand up to hold your cheek. "What did I just say..?"

☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆○☆

I managed to get this one finally out! Amazing right, I know. ♡ Sadly I'm starting a new job soon and my posting might slow down, but I will be staying active here! Love you all and thank you for the interest in my work

Go follow my ig @aphrodisiax_tumblr for fic release updates!!

@milkteaarttime I promised to tag you didn't I, love?

#angst #call of duty #cod #keegan cod #gn reader #keegan p russ #cod keegan #call of duty angst #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #keegan x reader #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader

[sungbeam]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐒 — part one (i – vii)

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

your sister's dead, but apparently that's not the most shocking news. maybe she wasn't killed on accident, maybe ji changmin isn't really human, and maybe the monsters were never under the bed but all around you...

▷ genre, warnings. strangers 2 reluctant allies/friends 2 lovers, slow burn, demon/supernatural creatures au, angst, action, murder mystery-ish au, forced proximity trope, suspense, gore, depictions of violence and blood, themes of death and grief, use/description of weaponry, swearing, a slightly unreliable narrator bc she has no idea what's happening, reader's sister is dead, mentions of stalking, humor bc coping mechanisms, reader has hair long enough to braid sorry, blood drinking, the barest of proofreading and editing done...

▷ part word count. 22.3k words / 47.4k - read part two here

▷ associated songs. teeth (5sos), wet nightmare (bibi)

a/n: i tried to make it scary I SWEAR but changmin brings the clown out of me 🤥 anyways i ripped a chunk of my heart out and im serving it to you bloodied on a gold platter, i hope u love her :') read the warnings ofc and lmk your thoughts <3 also i completely gave up on wrestling w blr so im dropping it in two parts, but both of them at once 🤣 pray for me.

#1—NEXT OF KIN.

THEY TOLD YOU YOUR SISTER'S DEATH WAS AN ACCIDENT, they being the authorities who had shown up at the front door of your apartment with their caps in hand, solemn faces pressed into lines that you could not read between. The world had fallen out from beneath your feet like someone had just yanked the carpet out, and you hadn't yet stopped falling.

The funeral was set on the rolling green hills of Elysium Memorial Park, the cemetery where your parents were buried, where your grandparents were buried, and now, where your sister joined them six feet under. Generations ago, your grandparents had purchased plots for themselves and their future family members while the land was cheap. When it came for your time to leave this mortal coil behind, you too would join them in the dirt of Elysium. It almost seemed right that the sky had opened up to reveal a blindingly hot sun, not a cloud to be seen in the sky. Perhaps the sky would not weep for your sister, but celebrate her life instead.

But while the heavens above would shed nary a tear, you could make up for that loss yourself. Having little to no living relatives left, you had been expected to take responsibility for all the arrangements, all while grieving, all while studying, all while trying to not fall apart some more. You were holding it together by the zipper of your dress pants and the caffeine from your coffee. You couldn't stop crying for the entire service, the forced silence of your cries balanced by the violent tremors in your shoulders.

Your sister Sena's patch in the land was now marked by a heaping pile of dirt. She had a lot of friends—most of whom gathered behind you and had thrown their flowers upon the dirt hill. You had a few distant relatives as well who you'd managed to remember (somehow) amongst all the madness. A couple of them were able to fly out for the event, but most had to decline.

When you heard your name being called, you drew your blazer sleeve over your eyes in a futile attempt to dry them.

Walking towards you now was a couple, middle-aged, dressed in black from head to toe, not far from how you looked right now. You knew them from about a week ago when they had sought you out after the news of your sister's death spread.

You hadn't the heart to sue them when they confessed who they were. It's our fault, they told you in the quiet of the hallway outside your apartment, we're so sorry. We understand if you'd like to press charges.

Sena was a victim of an automobile accident. You didn't know the entire story—was too tired for the whole story—just shocked she was even in the country. She was supposed to be across the world for a study abroad program, but why was she discovered on the side of the road, a few towns over, inebriated and dead? She became nothing more than roadkill and a statistic in death, and maybe that was why you were so bitter.

"Yn, it was a beautiful ceremony," said the woman—Julia, she had introduced herself as that week ago. Her nose was reddened from the friction of tissue paper, her eyes damp and glittering in the sunlight. "I'm sorry you—that you have to deal with all the pomp and circumstance."

"We know you deserve your time alone," joined her husband, Carter. He tucked his hands into his pockets, mustering up a smile for your sake, but you could still see the guilt flooding his eyes with water. "We just wanted to say thank you for letting us come and pay our respects."

And for not pressing charges. But you dashed that thought away. That was the bitterness talking, but these were good people. They had come forward and been honest, and it wasn't their fault Sena was drunk. (Why in the world was she drunk and here and why didn't she tell you the truth—?)

"Thank you for coming," you replied, "I wasn't sure if you would take me up on the offer, to be honest."

You wrapped up conversation with the couple and watched them depart across the grassy hills toward their car. Your eyes surveyed the last bits of the lingering crowd for familiar faces—anyone at all. But all you found were strangers.

These were all Sena's friends, after all. She had always been the more adventurous of the two of you.

You sighed and resigned yourself to start looking for the funeral coordinator to discuss payment and the like. Though the event was over the worst was just beginning. There was so much to do, and so little energy left to perform them.

But as you began trudging through the plush grass toward the far end of the plot, you noticed a man standing beneath the shade of a nearby oak tree. He wore typical funeral attire—the black dress shirt, pants, shoes, and even a pair of rectangular shades to cover his eyes. Like many of the others, you didn't recognize him—at first.

And then he shifted, lenses of his glasses reflecting sunlight and you could just barely put together the puzzle of his face and his identity. Ji Changmin.

What was he doing here?

They were friends, too, Yn, you reminded yourself. Yet, you weren't sure why you were so surprised he was here. Maybe it was because you never remembered extending the invitation to him (but someone could have spread the news by word of mouth). Maybe it was because several months had passed since you last saw him. Maybe it was because you always thought there was something… strange about him (but that could have been your bias; there was always this thing about him that irked you). Either way, you never had anything to say to him before, and that had yet to change even in light of your sister's death.

The two of you stared each other down, and for a moment, you believed he was going to walk over to you.

But instead, he pushed off the tree trunk and made his way toward the trickle of funeral goers up the hill, leaving you to wonder after him.

The next time you saw Ji Changmin was a week after the will reading.

Because you were Sena's next of kin, you were contacted by your shared attorney about Sena's will. Apparently, she had a will. After all these years, you couldn't even fathom the idea of needing one so early, but for some reason, she had. (Maybe that worried you a little more.)

The strangest thing was that your attorney had delivered to you a flat lockbox made of steel and secured with an old fashioned lock and key. Along with the stash of money in her savings account (where the Hell had all of that come from anyway?), Sena also gave you that. Whatever it was.

You had yet to open it when you bumped into Changmin on your way out of your college's academic counseling center. With recent events, your departmental advisor called you in to discuss your academic plans for the foreseeable future.

You can take as long as you like, Yn, she'd said to you. You're already ahead of schedule to graduate anyways. But that wasn't the point was it?—

"Oh." You stopped short as you rounded the corner and nearly crashed into something. "Sorry," you said before you even recognized him.

A pair of dark, feline eyes looked you up and down. "Yn, right?" Changmin drawled. A pair of white wired earbuds hung from his ears and his shoulders were fitted with a dark colored bomber jacket that was familiar to you. You'd seen it draped over the back of one of your kitchen chairs once when Sena had him over for a project.

Your eyes shuttered. "Yeah. Changmin?"

His nod was barely there. He cocked his head to the side in a way that felt like he was trying to gaze into your soul. "I'm—I'm sorry for your loss," he said, grappling for the right words. "Sena was a good friend."

"I didn't realize the two of you were so close," you told him. This was probably the most he'd ever said to your face, and you to him.

Changmin gave a small shrug. "We worked closely together, so it was kind of inevitable. How are you doing?"

You didn't think the conversation would last this long. "Oh, uhm, I'm fine." You inwardly knocked yourself over the head. He's probably just trying to be nice, Yn. "I mean—" you amended, "—I'm doing as well as you can imagine, I guess. Just lots of legal stuff and…" Her room. Cleaning out her room. Opening the lockbox. Reading her last will and testament for the fiftieth time.

When you didn't finish your sentence right away, he nodded again, shuffling on the balls of his feet. Was he feeling as awkward as you were? "I get that. Hey, if you—y'know, like, need anything—"

"You don't have to do that."

"What about coffee? Just… to talk."

Coffee? You considered him for a second. Before, you nor he had ever given any indication to the other that you acknowledged the other's presence. In fact, you confessed to Sena once that he intimidated you, even if he was just sitting there in your shared living room while pouring over JSTOR academic essays.

He was patient, you realized. Then you relented. "Okay. When's good for you?"

You thought you saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes, but that could have just been the afternoon sunlight. "Now?"

Your eyes widened a smidge, and you coughed. "Uhm now? I—I have class…?" You didn't, but the curve ball that was an impromptu coffee session with Ji Changmin wasn't something you needed right now.

His eyebrow lifted as if he didn't believe you. "Okay," he dragged out. "Tomorrow morning?" He offered as a counter.

Your brain did cartwheels in an attempt to figure out if you would have the willpower to do that. "Okay," you said. Better to get this out of the way, right?

"Do you know that one place on Magnolia?"

"The one across from the Eight Ball?" You perked up in recognition. You and Sena used to go all the time. The two of you liked to say that Magnolia was her street because it housed all her favorite places; just the thought of taking a stroll down it made your eyes water. "Yeah, Sena and I used to go all the time."

Changmin paused, his mouth opening, then closing.

You guessed what he was thinking. "It's fine if we go. I'm not gonna like, burst into tears or anything," you chuckled awkwardly, clearing your throat when excess tear fluid made you congested.

His lips pursed, impressing a dimple into his cheek. "Okay, only if you're sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." It seemed that everything you said to people was something like a lie nowadays.

It was late when you finally faced the lockbox.

The box was an unassuming hunk of metal, flat and slim and no bigger than a standard piece of paper. You warmed the key in your palm until it was hot to the touch and made your skin redden. The sky outside your apartment window had darkened to a blot of ink, the white shutters drawn shut to create a white paneled shield. You just finished up a very lazy dinner, washed up, and decided to confront the last thing on Sena's will.

The lockbox in the bank under my name goes to my sister, Yn Ln. She is the only one allowed access to it until she opens it; what she decides to do with the contents is her choice.

There must have been something important inside it, you reasoned, otherwise it wouldn't have been a part of the will and it wouldn't be under lock and a single key.

"What is this, Sena?" You asked aloud, venturing to twist the lock open with the key. The locking mechanism gave way, and you set the lock and key aside. The shorter end could slide open like a hidden door, and you peered into the dark depths, almost afraid of what you might find between its jaws.

You could make out the silhouettes of shapes at the bottom, the soft-cornered texture of a wad of bills. You reached in.

One of the things she had left for you in her will was all of the money in her savings account. It had shocked you to see the number—you always thought her only job was at the library, but clearly, she was not just on a librarian's salary.

Pulling out a stack of cash from the box was yet another thing that helped solidify in your mind that something was off. The confusion settled first, and then the betrayal. Had she not trusted you with this knowledge while she was alive? You were the one going into accounting and finance, and yet, she hid all of this money from you? Was she afraid of something? Afraid of judgment, of the law?

You tossed the twenties onto the table. The note slipped between the rubber band and the first piece read something along the lines of 'in case of emergency.'

You made a plunge into the box again. This time, you pulled out the last two things at the bottom, a standard white index card and a small, fabric pouch. The card displayed Sena's familiar scrawl:

You're probably wondering what any of this is, but if you're reading this, it means that something's gone wrong—like really wrong. The necklace in the pouch is super important. DON'T TAKE IT OFF. Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't trust anyone. This is really important to me, Yn. Please be safe; I love you.

x, sena.

Please be safe? Safe from who or what?

You held the note in your hand for a moment and couldn't believe this would be the last thing you received from her. It would be a tangible legacy, in a way, and you weren't sure how to feel about that. You moved the note to the table and turned your attention to the pouch.

You carefully tugged it open. She said it was a necklace, right?

"Oh," you voiced aloud while fishing out a thin, silver chain.

There was a pendant attached to the end with some heft to it. It was a deep, bloody red in the loose shape of a teardrop. There wasn't a sharp peak, but a slightly flat end on one side and a rounded end on the other. You would guess it was some kind of precious stone, but when you stared at it long enough, it looked like the color pulsed… like a heartbeat.

Your breath hitched.

Eyes narrowed, you held it up to the light by the chain. The vibrant red remained stagnant—perhaps you were just tired.

Don't let anyone touch it before you do. Don't take it off. Don't trust anyone.

Strange request about a necklace. For a moment, you wondered if your sister had indulged in some unsavory acts to achieve the numbers in her bank account and the previous stone in your hands. If you put this on, would you be counted as an accomplice to robbery?

"God, you just need to go to sleep, Yn," you muttered, swiftly clicking the chain into place around your neck. There was no way your sister would have anything to do with—

You froze.

From the other side of your shutters, you swore you heard the sound of shuffling. It wasn't unheard-of that the leaves and tree branches knocked against your second-floor window once in a while, but there hadn't been much wind as of late.

A chill spider-crawled up your spine as you strained your ears to hear more.

When you came up with nothing, you shoved the pendant under your shirt and cleaned up the lockbox. You had an early day tomorrow, after all; sleep was dire to face Changmin.

But as you crept into bed, you couldn't help but feel as if the stone on your sternum did have a heartbeat, and that something in the dark was watching you.

#2—GHOSTS ONLY HAUNT.

YOU STEPPED FOOT ON MAGNOLIA STREET looking for signs of your sister.

The morning air was a little cooler as spring filtered into town, and it also meant that this street in particular would begin to swirl with baby pink petals from the trees of the street's namesake flowers. There weren't many people around on a Thursday morning, but the sun peered between the buildings to say hello, at least.

You were in good company.

"Hey."

"Holy shit—" you whipped around to find Changmin almost right behind you. Your heart stuttered against your ribcage, your hand flying to your sternum where the necklace was. You were still getting used to its presence.

He gave nothing away with his facial expression. Damn him.

"I didn't realize you'd be early," you breathed as you tried to get a grip on yourself. Did this guy just materialize out of thin air everywhere?

Tongue in cheek, he said, "Well, I couldn't really sleep, so I figured the morning air might freshen me up a bit. Shall we?" He gestured with his elbow and chin to the establishment to your right.

There sat the quaint, little coffee shop you'd both agreed on yesterday. This one was one of Sena's favorites. She always claimed that their blueberry scones were the best in the world.

When you didn't say anything for a little, he cleared his throat. "We don't have to, if you can't or don't want to."

You hadn't even realized you were being quiet. Thoughts had been muddled as of late. You cleared your throat and stumbled for the door. "No, we can go in."

Two cups of coffee arrived at your table seven minutes later in compostable cups and a pile of artificial sweetener packets and creamer. You straightened in your seat across from Changmin and began ripping open sweetener packets and wondering if you should have gotten something of substance to eat. (You had stared at the blueberry scones for a long minute before deciding that today was not the day you wanted to cry in front of someone, especially this someone in particular.)

Changmin moved his cup toward his side of the table but made no move to add sugar or cream, or to even drink it.

This place was so familiar to you that you knew exactly how many packets of cream and sweetener to mix in, and you gently blew a breath over the steam floating off the surface. When the liquid hit your tongue and your throat, its warmth enveloped your nerves in a warm embrace, assuring you everything was going to be okay. The emotion hit you like a freight train.

You pressed your thumb against the rear gland in your right eye and willed it away. "So uhm," you said, fanning your eyes gently as you attempted to pull yourself together in front of him, "what… what did you wanna talk about? If there was anything?"

He folded his arms over his chest while leaning back in his chair, and you thought you saw his gaze soften. "Why don't you take another sip?" His eyes went to the coffee. "It'll help."

You couldn't deny that suggestion, and you reached for your cup to take another small gulp. The breath you let out rattled.

This was a bad idea.

"Are you gonna be okay if I talk about Sena?"

You nursed the coffee cup in your hands and nodded slowly.

He eyed you for a moment, then relented. "Did she happen to leave anything that was marked for me? Before the—the accident, she said there was something she needed to tell me."

Something she needed to tell him? You racked your brain, eyes drilling into the wood grain of the coffee table between you two. The will hadn't mentioned anyone else but you. And all of the letters or notes from Sena that were given to you were all for you; the attorney would have handled the rest and mailed them off to anyone else she'd written something for.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "No, I can't think of anything. You say you were expecting something?"

The resolve in his eyes steeled over, and that little bit of softness you'd seen before disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. You couldn't read him anymore. "Yes, I have her texts."

He fished out his phone from his pocket and you pursed your lips as he maneuvered to a screen of his and your sister's last messages to each other:

sena: i think i'm going back home soon, so i'll c u then changmin: okay that's fine changmin: wait ur still over there?? i thought u left already? sena: had to talk to someone abt the thing, but it was a dead end sena: just remind me that i have something to tell u changmin: what? sena: it'll be better if i said this in person

That was all Changmin let you see.

You leaned away from his phone, head reeling more from the fact that he knew she had been out of town and knew where she was and why she was there. Never mind the fact that apparently, Sena was holding onto important information for Changmin. You couldn't care less about that.

You supposed the texts were for him to prove to you he was telling you the truth. It wasn't like you weren't telling the truth either.

"Why was Sena out of town?" You asked him. "Did she ever go on any of those study abroad trips?"

Changmin paused, then something flickered in his eyes. "I think I showed you too much."

"I think you showed me too little."

"Yn, did she tell you anything about what she needed to tell me?"

You were going to push against him for your own agenda again, but the slight pressure in his tone made you think twice. There was something urgent in his words, his expression, his body language. You couldn't tell what it was, but something about this had to have been important.

Absentmindedly, your hand rubbed the area where the pendant sat on your chest beneath the collar of your shirt, and his eyes followed for a moment before flickering back up to your eyes. "No," you told him quietly. "She didn't tell me anything."

He must have believed you, because defeat shuddered across his face, and he said goodbye to leave. He didn't even take his coffee with him. Asshole.

You told yourself it would be months before you could bring yourself to go through Sena's things, but after this morning's run-in with Changmin (because it wasn't even a session; you could hardly call it anything but a run-in because it lasted maybe ten minutes), you were determined to unlock her door and do some digging. Clearly, she was hiding more than her money and jewelry(?) from you.

Changmin… he completely ignored your questions confronting him about Sena's whereabouts and her purpose for traveling. You were getting more and more suspicious as to what your sister had been up to lately. Changmin had to be in on it, too, then. He had to be.

Sena's door took up your entire vision as you stood before it with the key in your hand.

You weren't entirely sure what you were expecting when you opened it, but it was as if she had never left. Everything was where she left it—plum-purple covers tucked beneath the mattress, vintage national park postcards hanging from fairy lights by wooden clothespins, jackets layered over the back of her desk chair. There was an empty mug on her desk with the remnants of a red lip tint on the edge, and you knew you weren't going to remember to take it out to the sink later.

The small shelf-nightstand hybrid next to her bed was filled to the brim with books and notebooks and magazines. You settled gingerly upon the edge of her bed, palms pressing against the comforter.

The room still smelled like your sister.

You took the small bottle of perfume on the nightstand and spritzed a little onto your wrist. You pressed it to your nose, letting the scent make your senses woozy. It wouldn't bring her back; it didn't smell exactly the same when it was on your skin.

You set the bottle back onto the nightstand, then lowered yourself to your knees to pull all of the books off the top shelf. You stuck your head into the empty cupboard—you weren't really sure what you were looking for.

All of the titles here were the normal things you remembered seeing her read: assorted mythologies, books on the occult and supernatural, her textbooks for anthropology and archeology. There were about a dozen and a half National Geographic magazines that you flipped through within the next two hours, as well, all of which turned up nothing of curiosity.

None of the bound books were notebooks of any kind.

You crawled over to her desk—rifled through those. Nothing. They were all school related and completely, utterly ordinary.

Disappointment weighed you down into her desk chair as you hit another dead end.

Was there nothing she could give you?

No, she's dead, you thought to yourself. You'd never known Sena to be a secretive person, especially with you—in fact, you were the quieter of the pair, and she always managed to coax the right things out of you.

Sometimes you had felt like the older sister because you handled so many of the logistics and practical things, but when the world became too scary, you could always count on running to her to feel safe again…

Safe.

Sena, were you ever safe? You were beginning to think not so much.

"Do I need to file for a restraining order?"

It was getting ridiculous how many times you ran into Changmin in the past two weeks. It was outside the advising office, on your way to the store, in the hallway outside your finance lecture. And now, he loitered in the lobby of your apartment complex with a wired earbud in one ear and the other dangling freely.

He seemed to be unfazed by your remark as he peered over at you from beneath the brim of his cap. "What if I just live here?"

"But you don't," you huffed, coming to stop right in front of him. You had a feeling you would have definitely known if he moved into this building. "What do you want from me, Changmin? I'm not going to magically lead you to my sister's secret stash of whatever. I just want to get to class."

"Then go to class," he said simply. He gestured with the phone in his hand toward the door. "I'm not here for you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. Perhaps you were being a little silly, and this was just some weird trick your brain was playing on you to make you notice him more. "Answer me something."

"Only if you answer something for me."

"This isn't a negotiation."

"Worth a shot," he said with a sigh. "What shall I answer for you?"

"You and my sister weren't dating, were you?"

He must have choked on his own spit because he coughed, furiously thumping his chest. You would have laughed if this was any other circumstance, and if you and Changmin were friends (but you weren't). He shook his head at you. "No. Your sister wasn't interested in me like that and neither was I. We were strictly colleagues."

You cocked your head to the side. Colleagues… you let that marinate. "Okay, so did she have anyone she was seeing then? Just out of curiosity." A former lover you didn't know about would make sense, something like a Bonnie and Clyde situation maybe. Or perhaps you were chasing after ghosts to get a glimpse into the past.

"Someone I suspect, but I don't have their contact," he replied, mimicking your head tilt and narrowed eyes. "If you had her phone—"

"I don't."

"Ah, a shame then."

"Do you?"

"And why would I withhold such an important item from the next of kin?" He drawled.

Changmin suddenly jolted upright from the relaxed position he stood in. It was so abrupt, it gave your heart a start. "That's my cue."

You followed after him out the front doors. "What cue? Did you hear your microwave go off or something?"

You swore to God you saw his mouth curl up in amusement. But it might have been just your imagination. He yanked his other earbud out and lifted a hand in goodbye. "Something like that! See you around."

He disappeared around the corner before you could follow after him. Plus, you really did have a lecture to get to. (Wait, did he say that she was seeing someone—?)

You sighed, wondering if you should follow him… something in the back of your mind told you it would be safer not to.

#3—MONSTERS AMONG MEN.

YOU SWORE JI CHANGMIN HAD TO BE a psychic with the amount of times he predicted your whereabouts. Every time you saw him in your vicinity, you and he shared either a verbal sparring match or stared one another down. He seemed amused by it; you were growing increasingly concerned, even if it was all just coincidence.

(There was this one time, on a Wednesday this past week, where you were the one who appeared at the anthropology department to see one of Sena's old professors. Changmin was there, as it was his major's headquarters, and shot you a curious glance. The meeting was innocent and an accident. No, you definitely weren't stalking him. Absolutely not.)

(It was interesting to consider whether both of you thought the other would lead you to something of Sena's. You were certain he knew more than he let on, and perhaps he thought the same of you… Shit, maybe you should invest in a taser.)

Additionally, the weird sounds around your apartment had increased. Sometimes when you walked around in the evenings, the hair on the back of your neck and your arms stood at attention, as if you could feel the gaze of someone or… something watching you. However, every time you turned to look, the crazier you were convinced you'd become.

It didn't help that the necklace Sena left for you kept mimicking your heart beat when you weren't paying attention. If you willed it to repeat the steady beat in the light so you could observe it up close, it would cease.

It was as if distance from your skin or touch left it without a heart to echo.

You were half certain you were losing your mind. It had to be all this stress and emotion overwhelming you.

Saturday morning, you decided to pick yourself up and go see your sister. The funeral home had called you earlier this week to say that her headstone was complete, so this would also serve as a trip to ensure everything was engraved correctly before it was placed over her grave. You dressed yourself up in a dark top and comfortable jeans, something you might be able to sit in on the grass as you lingered in her presence, even if she was dead.

Ever since you went through her things, you hadn't ventured into her room again. You thought it might preserve the way it looked, smelled, felt… preserve something of her.

Once you'd gone to the funeral parlor and management center at Elysium Memorial Park to confirm the engraving, you took a brisk walk up the hill to where you remembered Sena's plot to be. The sun peered out between clouds this morning, giving the sky a dual-toned appearance, one half a dark gray, and the other a gossamer yellow.

You started down the hill, head ducked to watch for any graves or hills so you didn't trample over other people's bodies. A bundle of flowers from the grocery store sat cradled in the crook of your arm—a bundle of pink carnations ("I'll never forget you") and dark crimson roses (mourning). You didn't often pay attention to the meaning of flowers, but you thought if you weren't able to choke anything out today, then at least they could speak for you.

Just as you neared the grave between oaks, you lifted your head, your footsteps slowing at the person who stood over your sister's grave. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Isn't it a sin to curse over someone's grave?" Changmin asked as you stopped short of where he was. There was a single stem of sunflower (adoration) seated at his feet on the bundle of earth that was Sena's resting place. "Well, I wouldn't know. That's not my expertise."

"What are you doing here?"

He gave a loose gesture with a flourished hand. "Visiting a friend. Don't leave on my account. She's your sister."

It was as if he could read your mind. You didn't count on anyone being here when you saw her, but he had a right to visit her, too. The bitterness seeping into your bones would have to be squandered for today; the universe just needed to stop making the two of you bump into each other.

You ignored the quickening pitter-patter of your heart and the necklace, and trudged over the grass to where he was.

You gently placed your bundle of flowers next to his, then straightened to stand beside him. The two of you stared at the patch in the ground in silence.

A frown etched itself onto his face, along with a crease between his brows. He seemed almost angry—at what, you couldn't tell. Not you, you hoped.

Quietly, you lowered yourself to the grass to sit down and be closer to her.

I miss you, you voiced into your head, as if you could transmit these thoughts to the dead body in the ground. I'm so… it's too much, Sena. I can't do this. I don't know what you want from me, I don't know what Changmin wants from me. The apartment is cold. Why didn't you tell me you were home all this time?

For the moment, you let your vision blur with tears.

You covered your mouth with your palm to dam the emotion inside, especially with someone else right next to you, but dignity be so fucking damned. Your body trembled with the weight of everything and beyond—you were Atlas carrying the world upon his shoulders. Pressure mounted in your cranium from how hard and freely you sobbed, your fingers pressed to your face to support your head as your tears wet the earth beneath you.

A presence lowered itself to the ground beside you, and Changmin remained politely quiet. He breathed in deeply, but you heard the slight tremble of his breath when he exhaled.

Maybe you were crying for the both of you.

After what seemed like eons, you sniffled, pawing at your puffy and reddened eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. You hadn't brought along any tissues or anything, an oversight.

You gathered your wits about you and clambered to your feet, your knees knocking together like a baby deer. Changmin still had his eyes pinned to the ground.

"Whatever the Hell you want from me," you told him hoarsely, "I don't care. Just leave me alone."

You watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. Without another word, you walked away to head back to the bus stop.

Your skin prickled when you returned home. The air was oddly… off, and a strange smell lingered in the air. It was subtle, only becoming apparent to you with deep, focused inhales. The identity of the smell eluded you and it wasn't something you were familiar with.

You kicked the front door shut behind you, and noticed that the window was ajar. Had you accidentally left that open before you left?

Strange.

You padded across the room to peer out at the street below. There sat the usual tree that occupied the space in front of your window, the one that you assumed (hoped) was the thing making all of the noises outside the past few weeks. (Because if it wasn't that, you didn't want to know what it really was.)

The thought occurred to you that you might have opened the window before you left to air out whatever smell had crept through the air vents. Yes, that made a whole lot of sense.

Settling with that explanation, you cranked the window closed slightly, only leaving a sliver so you could muffle as much of the sounds outside as possible. This part of town wasn't the noisiest, luckily, but when there were vehicles that drove by, they tended to be loud for no reason.

You sighed, settling down onto your couch with your bag. The whole rest of your day was open, and the only thing you had thought of was to go see Sena.

The feeling of eyes on you loitered on your skin like an invisible ant crawling over your body somewhere. You swiped at your neck, rubbed your arm… you couldn't identify it when you swung around to observe your own home.

This was your home, wasn't it? Why did it feel like you weren't alone in it?

You were going to go close the window—

A shadow appeared on the ledge of your window sill and you let out a scream.

The mass gnarled its teeth at the sound, pouncing at you with claws and fangs that glinted in the daylight.

You scrambled backward on the couch, toward the opposite end, your heart throwing itself up against your ribcage. "What the fuck?" You breathed, trying to figure out what in the world it was.

Bad idea. Oh, baaaad. Bad. Bad. Bad idea.

You shouldn't have stared so long; then you wouldn't have realized it had multiple rows of teeth, a face pale as a full moon, and two beady eyes narrowed into slits. Saliva dripped from its maw and down its chin as it crawled on its haunches and arms to you.

It made a guttural noise, then lunged.

You swore and fell over the arm of the couch, dragging along the lamp on the side table. You tried to move your right leg off the arm—it didn't budge. Oh god, it had its claws in your pant leg—

"Mine," it snarled, surprisingly sentient. "Master wills it so."

You kicked it in its face and managed to scramble away, clutching the lamp in front of your body as a weapon.

It ran after you, and your body leapt into instinct.

You nearly slipped as you fumbled to your feet and tipped the coffee table over the creature. "What the fuck are you—SHIT."

Wood splinters exploded as the creature smashed clear through one of the legs and went careening for you.

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE," you begged, running for the kitchen and the block of knives in your sight.

Your knees hit the wood floor with a vengeance, and you had no time to mourn over bruised knees. You twisted around and just barely shoved the lamp between its jaws before it could enclose them around your neck—

Somebody pounded on your front door. "YN? YN!"

Familiar—that was all that went through your head. "HELP ME," you screeched, your hands growing slippery from the slobber. Desperation filled your veins and you gave a violent shove.

Your front door bursted open, the handle banging against the opposite wall and leaving a dent.

Changmin charged into the room with a dark look in his eyes, a swear on his tongue. "You're the little weasel who's been fucking with me."

The creature shifted his attention to Changmin. "Your Disgrace," it gave a mocking bow.

That seemed to be his ticker.

You couldn't comprehend what happened—only an exchange of blows, a blur of body mass—Changmin brawled with the creature on your floor and you dragged yourself behind the kitchen counter to hide. You reached for a knife from the knife block up above and pulled your knees to your chest, the sounds of snarling and wood breaking and bones cracking—then—complete silence.

You slapped a palm over your mouth, eyes going toward the ceiling to pray to anyone who could hear you.

This was when you died. The creature had killed Changmin and now it was coming back to finish what it started.

You held your breath with your eyes wide open. You strained your ears. The sound of a sigh met your ears, one that was oh-so familiar to you.

"Shit," came Changmin's voice. "Yn. Yn? Yn, where…?"

He rounded the counter, his hair sticking up in different directions and a large tear at the top of his shirt, but other than that, he seemed no worse for wear. He eyed the knife pointed outward at him, and he showed you his palms as if placating a rattlesnake. "Woah, hey, it's okay. It's gone now."

Your body trembled from head to toe with all of the pent up fear and adrenaline. You shook your head, your hand still clapped over your mouth to keep your screams or cries in.

Changmin lowered himself to your level slowly. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise, it's gone and you're okay now. Let's put the knife down."

You slowly, slowly brought your extended hand down, letting the blade point toward the ground and away from the man in front of you. "What—" you choked, "—what was—who are—"

His facial features arranged into something short of stress. "It's a long story…" He roughed a hand through his bangs. "That thing back there? Yn, that was a demon."

You blinked.

He exhaled sharply. "I'm a demon."

"Don't fuck with me."

"You think I'm fucking with you?"

Your free hand clutched at the pendant around your neck. "You—you don't look like that thing though."

He gave a nod. "Right, I don't. I'm… a different kind of demon." When you remained quiet, he prodded, "You're not going to fight back? You're not gonna tell me you're going crazy?"

"Oh, I know I'm going crazy," you nodded vigorously, wiping away the snot that dribbled down your nose inelegantly. He reached over the counter to grab the roll of paper towels and slide it over to you in an act of (rare) kindness. Your head made contact with the cabinet behind you. "Is the carcass lying on my living room floor, Changmin? Tell me it is not lying on my living room floor."

"It's not."

"Then where the fuck is it?"

He licked his lips, closing his eyes. "It escaped."

"Out the window?"

"No, through a portal—"

You wheezed, and you were sure you looked half mad to him. "Oh my god, I really am off my rocker." A portal. A portal! Of course it was a portal.

He pinned you with a look. "Yn. Yn, listen to me. You're not safe here."

"No shit. I almost died two minutes ago." You saw his unimpressed expression and forced an apology out of your mouth. "Sorry. Humor is a coping mechanism. You can't just tell me demons exist without me thinking we've both gone absolutely insane."

Changmin settled into a more comfortable position on the floor, gripping onto the edge of the counter behind his head. "Yeah, your sister reacted similarly when she found out."

Everything came to a screeching halt.

"What?"

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Supernatural creatures exist. The ones that you read about in books and in myths and legends, and watch in silly movies and TV shows?" He gestured wide with both his arms. "They exist—we exist."

You could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You swallowed. "And she… she knew this?"

A nod. "Yes. We've all been walking among you this whole time."

"What does this have to do with Sena?" What did any of this have to do with your sister? Was this even worse than you imagined it was?

He pursed his lips, exposing the little mole beneath his bottom lip for a moment. "Sena and I were… business partners. We were in the bounty hunting business, essentially."

There were words coming out of his mouth, but it was too much. All of it hit your head and fell straight to the floor, and none of it truly sank into your sense of reality.

Sena was a supernatural bounty hunter? And she died while on a case. A personal one, he said—?

"—I was coming over to show you something when I felt my trap get triggered."

"Wait, wait, wait," you cut in. "Trap?"

"I've been hunting that demon for weeks now," he explained to you, but the words were coming out slowly like he was reluctant to let them go. "It's been… avoiding me, and I tracked it to your apartment and realized what, or who, it was after." His teeth ran over his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed on you. "You're wearing it, aren't you? The pendant?"

On instinct, your hand shot up to your sternum. "How the Hell—"

"That's what Sena and I were looking for." His sharp, feline gaze remained pinned on you as you slowly lifted the chain to take the pendant out. It glistened like a fat, red ruby in the daylight. "What did she tell you about it?"

"Absolutely nothing," you said plainly. You set the knife on the ground beside you and adjusted your sitting position with a shaky exhale. "Except that I shouldn't let anyone touch it before me, that I shouldn't take it off, and to not—trust anyone."

You stiffened when Changmin reached for something in his back pocket.

"Relax, this is what I wanted to show you." He held his hands up after retrieving a cream-colored envelope from his back pocket, majorly bent and crumpled in some portions, but intact for the most part. He slid the envelope across the kitchen floor to you, and you immediately recognized your sister's handwriting.

You gingerly picked it up off the ground and inspected it. It couldn't have been forged—the way she wrote her R's were too distinct. She was so weird about always writing capital R's even if it was supposed to be lowercase.

You opened the flap and tugged out the letter inside. As you made your way down the note, it came to you that this was his evidence. This was his evidence that Sena knew him personally and that, according to past-Sena, you could trust him.

Your fingers shook as you pushed the letter back into the fold, and you shoved the envelope back over to him. "Okay," you muttered. "What now?"

Something akin to relief washed over his face. "She didn't tell you anything about the pendant? Nothing?"

You shook your head, fondling the stone between your fingers. "No. I found it in the lockbox she left for me with cash and a small note."

"Lockbox?" He perked up. "Are you certain there wasn't anything else in there? Not a second stone or a second necklace? Nothing?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought, and you pressed your thumb and forefinger to your closed eyes when they began to sting from dehydration. "No. It was just those three things I mentioned earlier. Why?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you said. "I am absolutely sure. You don't think I turned that thing upside down?"

Changmin stood up and began to pace around his side of the kitchen, his head buried in his two palms. "Oh fuck," you heard his muttered swear.

"What is it?"

He rubbed his hands down his face, and it reset him to that careful blankness from before. "Do you trust me?"

"No," came your automatic answer.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Your sister was after something important before she died. She—she was supposed to update me about it when she got back, but she never did." He carded a hand through his hair again. "It could reveal to us more about what happened. Didn't she mention anything about how important this was?"

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. Sena wrote it plainly in her final note to you about how important this necklace was, and keeping it with you. You supposed you could dash out any thought that she stole this from a bank or jewelry store… a mortal one, at least.

What the fuck was this thing made of?

You enclosed your fist around the stone. "So what are you saying?"

"We need to finish what she started." He considered something for a moment, then added, "And you're not safe here."

Something panged in your chest. "I'm not teaming up with you."

Changmin took a couple steps toward you and from this distance, there was an unmistakable ferocity in his gaze. "I would agree with you, but unfortunately, if I want answers and the pendant, then I'm stuck with you."

Your blood pressure spiked. "You're such an ass."

"Ass or not," he drawled, "you can stay here and risk that cretin coming back for you, or you can come with me, and we can figure out what the Hell happened to your sister."

Your bones, your joints—everything ached as you clambered to your feet. God, you were tired. A grave sort of determination trickled into your mind, though, at the thought of getting away from this. It didn't seem like there was much other choice anyway.

#4—SURVIVE THE NIGHT.

IT WAS LATE WHEN THE CAR pulled into the motel parking lot. Your ass was on fire from the long drive, and your mind hazy from sleep deprivation. Fear kept you awake for the entirety of the eight hour trek between home and nowhere. You would have worried about Changmin in the driver's seat, but considering you found out he was a supernatural being literally eight hours ago, your worries consoled themselves.

"This was the best out of the selection," he murmured, barely audibly, as he put the car in park. The glow from the motel lights was the only light for miles, and the red-violet from the neon sign washed over Changmin's sharp side profile like a grungy teen thriller show.

A yawn stretched out of you and you reached for your seatbelt. "Wasn't complaining."

He sent you a pointed look. It was a silent "Really?" You pointedly ignored it.

The two of you clambered out of the car and you massaged your back and butt with reprieve. Your hand reached for the red ruby settled beneath the fabric of your T-shirt, the warm stone solid and present between your fingers. Changmin slammed his side of the car closed as he slung his bag over his shoulder, and you were swift to follow his lead.

Your fingers drummed against the side of your pants just as the main office came into view. There was someone seated behind the front desk with her head buried in her phone and Candy Crush on the screen. You and Changmin walked up to the counter and her head flicked upward.

Her eyes darted between you two and something or other clicked in her head. "Room for two?" She droned, already clacking away on her computer screen.

"Yes please," you sighed. You knew there was no way you were getting around her assumptions.

She smacked the gum in the side of her cheek, twirling around in her chair to reach for a key on the wall behind her. "It'll be thirty bucks," she said, sliding the key across the counter, "and we don't have condoms."

You and Changmin both coughed, heat rushing to your face. "None needed," he muttered as he slid a twenty and ten dollar bill over to her.

You collected the key and checked for the room number. Sleep crept into the corners of your eyes again and they were starting to sting from dehydration.

Changmin eyed you from his peripheral vision and nodded his silent thanks to the girl. He swept an arm loosely around your shoulders to guide you back out to the night beyond the main office. The room you were assigned was on the second floor of a building just a little ways down the complex. It was outfitted with a single queen-sized bed and bathroom, and the lights fortunately worked well enough. You couldn't decide if it was a good thing that you were too tired to assess the cleanliness of this room, but you made a beeline for the bathroom.

"I'm taking a shower," you announced, already closing the door.

The last thing you heard was his grunt from the other side.

You dumped your backpack on the lid of the toilet then braced your forearms on the sink counter. The lights in here were a dull gray and made you look sickly in the mirror. Dark bags hung beneath your pinkened eyes—the receptionist probably thought you were drunk or high. Exhaustion hit you like a bus, your limbs sluggish and heavy.

So much had happened in the past 48 hours.

You ripped the shower curtain back and fiddled around with the shower until cold water spouted from the top.

Changmin was a demon. He was Hellspawn. You'd messed around with the idea of him being a pain in the ass before, but you never expected his demon-ness to be true.

When the water warmed as much as it could, you stepped beneath its drizzle. The ruby pendant from your sister sat on your sternum, safe and warm, and you watched it pulse with a glowing scarlet beneath the stream of water.

Your sister.

A few weeks ago, you watched her body lowered into a ditch in the ground. A little before that, you were told her death had been an accident. Now, you were on the run.

From who or what? You weren't completely sure. That was what Changmin was here for. Well, technically he was here for the necklace your sister left with you, but after what happened at your apartment that caused the two of you to go on the run, here you and the necklace were. Plus, the note your sister left explicitly instructed that the necklace be kept with you—on you. (You still weren't too certain of anything.)

When your fingers began to prune, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower to slip on a new set of clothes from your backpack. You went through the motions of getting ready to sleep, too, mind fuzzy and unable to make sense of anything.

You wrestled down a sigh and desire to cry. You were tired, for fuck's sake, you were so tired.

But when you opened the bathroom door, flicking the light off, you paused. The room was dark.

Your breath hitched in your throat and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention. Heart pounding, you took a step into the main room.

"Chang—" A palm closed around your mouth, another cupping the back of your head.

Panicpanicpanic—

A warm breath by your ear. "Calm down. It's just me." Changmin.

Fucking Hell.

You found his eyes as yours grew more accustomed to the dark. His head twisted over his shoulder to the window by the door where you could see silhouettes walking past, silent and stalking.

"Someone's here," he exhaled as he slowly removed his hand from over your mouth. His dark bangs hung in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line. "They can sense the pendant, I think."

Your heart thundered against your ribcage—ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

Changmin's head whipped back toward you and he fished something out of his pocket. He reached for your hand, closing your fingers around something cold and metal. "Slowly put your backpack down and barricade yourself in the closet over there," he instructed quietly, finger pointing in the direction of the sliding doors just to your left. "If it comes to it, use the knife, Yn."

You bit your tongue to keep your breathing as steady as possible. Your hands shook around the switchblade he'd passed to you, and under his sharp eyes, you carefully lowered your bag to the ground without making as much noise as you could. Then, with his go-ahead, you crept as quietly as possible toward the closet.

Just as you reached for the slot in the door, all Hell broke loose.

The window shattered open, the door kicked off its hinges. Your entire body tensed as you dropped to the floor behind the bed, clutching the knife in front of you.

Changmin swore, nice and loud.

Shadows pummeled him to the ground until he was tangled in darkness, like nightmares brought to life. You saw a flash of claws in your view, your scream caught in your throat.

"You."

A blur of shadow whisked across your vision and your eyes went wide.

The creature crawled over the bed and pounced toward you—you rolled away from him, blade held out in front of your body. Oh, there was an awful wave of déjà vu coming over you.

"You are a difficult being to find, pet," the creature hissed. You were beginning to make out its features now—dagger-like eyes, claws that could easily rip flesh apart like cloth, and a maw of knives for teeth. Shit straight out of nightmares.

It cocked its head at you, crouching on the floor a few feet away. Why hadn't it attacked you yet?

"Curious," its scratchy voice croaked. "The master will be pleased when the asset is brought home to her."

The asset? It must have meant the necklace.

You heard a snarl from your right, and in horror, noted the thick, dark liquid splattered all over Changmin's clothes and body. When he snarled at the demons holding him down, you spotted the gleam of fangs.

"What do you want from me?" Your voice trembled, returning back to your main problem. The necklace sat warm and present, the pulses matching your racing heartbeat.

The creature released a sound like grating metal, something akin to a laugh. "Your guardian is more dangerous than he appears," he said instead while tilting its head to the side. "Clever being, that one. Master will be pleased when we bring his rotted corpse home."

You didn't anticipate how quickly it would move. You screamed as the creature dove for you and you swung out of the way. Its claws dug into the meat of your thigh, clinging to the flesh there with all of its might.

Fear struck painfully through your chest and you desperately twisted around to stab the blade into the side of the creature's neck.

It screeched. You drew the knife out to impale it in the back area, messily splattering an arc of its black blood everywhere.

You sucked in a sob as you scrambled backward. Its body dragged along the ground from its claws still sunken into your leg. The body was limp, but your nose wrinkled from the acrid, hot smell reeking from the corpse. It smelled burnt.

You peered at the blade in your fist with new eyes. The silver glowed gold in the darkened room; you shouldn't have expected anything less. Why did you think a mortal weapon could defend you from demonic creatures?

"YN!"

Too late.

Claws sunk into the sides of your throat and trapped your voice there. You thrashed around; panic stabbed your chest. Pathetically, desperately, you reached your arm back to try and drill the blade of your knife into the creature behind you.

Hot blood squelched down your throat—you were losing feeling there. Numb numb numb—it hurt, oh fuck, you were going to die—

All at once, the pressure subsided.

Breath could only flood into your lungs as quickly as blood spilled from your throat. You were choking, eyes wide up at the ceiling.

This was it, this was it. Maybe you'd see your sister in Hell.

A face appeared above you, sweaty but familiar. Your blurry vision couldn't make out the emotions on his face, but you could hear him… boy, could you hear him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed, rustling around and adjusting his position above your body.

His rough palms cupped your face. You could hear your heartbeat slowing in your ears. Ba-boom… ba-boom… ba… boom.

"Stay with me," he panted. His left hand pressed against that side of your neck to staunch the blood flow. He sucked in a breath and he ducked out of your view.

You felt a different wet sensation over your open wound. His tongue was rough, yet soothing as he lapped and sucked on the gouge in your throat. Feeling sparked in that area; you could feel your skin physically stitching itself together. If you could squirm, you would have.

He was swift to switch to your other side and copy those actions there. He groaned low against your skin, one hand cupping the side of your head to hold you in place.

Oxygen rushed through your lungs and you gasped. You tore your neck away from his mouth to dry retch. Blood dripped from the side of your lips to the dusty carpet. You had been asphyxiating on your own life force.

You flopped back onto your back, tears rolling down your cheeks as you gestured wildly at the steaming demon carcass still attached to your thigh. "Ple-please," you whimpered. "Please, get it off."

Changmin crawled onto his arms, sliding down toward your leg. "Yeah, sweetheart. I got it."

He looked up at you as he dug his fingers into the creature's skull, ready to pry the thing's claws from you. Something dark was smudged over his face—his nose, cheeks, across his eye. "It's gonna hurt," he warned, voice hoarse.

You moved your head in a microscopic nod.

Tears pricked at your vision, and your leg screamed. Blood filled your mouth even more from the force you used to clamp down on your tongue. Changmin was swift, but gentle as he removed each claw from your thigh, then tossed the body somewhere behind him. He lowered his face to your leg to carefully lap at your wounds like he'd done before.

When he was done, he flopped onto the floor with you, his sigh filling the awful silence.

You could feel everything. It was pulsing all over your body. Your skin, threading together, tingled and ached and throbbed. Your cheeks were damp with tear tracks and your fingers finally loosened their grip on the switchblade. Your mouth was coated in the metallic iron taste of blood.

The only familiar feeling was the pendant on your sternum. The bane of your existence.

"So you have magic spit?" You croaked, your voice scratchy from your sore and bruised throat.

You heard his huff, the closest thing you'd ever heard to a laugh from him. "It's regenerative," he exhaled deeply.

You snorted, then winced when it hurt.

If you could look up, you would've seen the corner of his lips twitch.

"Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

You heard a soft shuffling sound as he clambered upright to lean against the wall. His head thumped against it, eyes fluttered closed. "I don't drink blood, sweetheart."

"I didn't say you drank it."

You grimaced as you struggled to swallow. Reality was swooping in on you like a vulture above a carcass. Doom swirled in your stomach—you almost died just now. You choked on a sob, and you reached up to your face to brush away your tears.

Oh god, everything hurt.

"I want to go home," you whispered. It wasn't even to Changmin, just to whoever could hear you. Homehomehome, but where was home? They could find you anywhere.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry." Changmin's head hung, either out of exhaustion or genuine regret. "I promised your sister I wouldn't get you involved."

You still couldn't move your head much, so you kept your gaze on the speckled ceiling. "What?"

"I have… had sisters."

You didn't hide your surprise. You didn't think you would ever get anything personal out of this guy, let alone the fact he had family. But his confession planted a seed of sympathy in you… maybe he was human before, or maybe he wasn't at all, but he had family. That had to count for something.

He released another haggard sigh. "So that was one of the few things we could agree on—keeping you out of this unless necessary."

Necessary. You should have never put on the necklace, should have never touched the cursed thing. Now, you were literally chained to it and its fate.

He went quiet again and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he rose to his feet. Taking slow, careful steps, he made his way over to your body.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," he murmured as he tucked his hands under your armpits to haul you upright.

You cursed under your breath at the ache and the blood rushing to your head. Your left leg was pretty much useless, and he had to cup the nape of your neck to his shoulder so you could lean on him.

"Can you walk?" He asked, his breath by your ear again.

You shook your head, pressing your mouth against the muscle of his shoulder. He smelled like demon blood, and you shifted to lean your cheek on him instead, holding in a gag at the wretched stench.

"Okay. Hold on a second."

He helped you sit down on the ledge of the bed, before going around the room to collect things. He plucked up your backpack from the floor, then his own bag, hoisting them both over his shoulders before returning to you. From your vantage, you could see all the limp demon corpses lying on the ground, unmoving. You wrestled down the bile creeping up your throat and looked away.

Changmin scooped you up in his arms with a grunt, and you looped yours around his upper body, tucking yourself into him. "We have to get out of here before someone comes to check this shit out," he said to you as he exited the room.

You gave a nod. "Aren't you tired? Hurt?" You asked, guilt and fear twisting something horrid in your chest.

"Don't worry about me."

"How could I not?"

His lips twitched. "Oh, so you care about me now?"

You closed your eyes against his shoulder. "Don't be an asshole."

"Sure, sweetheart." He made it to the car and instructed you to reach around his back to get the car key hanging from his bag strap. Changmin managed to get the car door open and deposited you in your seat. Your body molded into the material, exhaustion settling once more into your bones and joints.

In a blink, the two of you were back on the road.

Changmin carded a hand through his damp hair as he pulled out onto the barren street. You rolled your head to the side, eyes drinking him in. There were scratches over his exposed skin, barely there, but still present as if they had healed over already. His clothes were splotched and stained, as well as ripped in other places. And of course, there was the blood smeared all over his face, his neck. The bastard didn't even look fazed.

Right, demon. What did that even entail?

Your eyelids were beginning to droop, yanked down by the force of gravity and the human necessity to sleep. You didn't want to sleep though; you didn't want to be attacked a third time. Though most of the adrenaline had dissipated, your shoulders were still tense, your senses alert and unable to relax just yet.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "You should sleep."

You moved your head. "Can't," you rasped.

He reached over then, his palm warm against your head, as he gently brushed his thumb over your eyelids to coax them closed. "You're safe with me, Yn," he promised. You were reluctant to believe him, but after what just happened, at least you knew he could take care of himself and you.

Sleep was already coaxing you into its jaws to devour you, and the pendant under your shirt pulsed to a steady beat to encourage your descent. "Morning will come soon."

All you could do now was trust him.

#5—THE ANGEL BLADE.

THE DINER OFF THE INTERSTATE was like the ones from the movies: red, vinyl seats that squelched when you scooted over them; blind fluorescent lights that flickered every time a fly died against them; people minding their own business as they hunched over grainy coffee and burgers that looked a little too good to be true. You sat across from Changmin, hands laced over the white table surface while he had his arms braided over his chest.

Another eight hours had passed since the motel. You'd found a rest stop to clean up and change clothes on the way, but when you could no longer deny your need for food, Changmin made the executive decision to feed the monster that was your stomach. Executive decision meant he was driving you somewhere to eat something so you wouldn't pass out from stubborn, self-induced hunger.

You're not gonna die if you want fries and chicken tenders, Yn, he'd said with a roll of his eyes.

Easy for him to say. He wasn't the target of every other supernatural being within a fifty mile radius. Perhaps by association, but still.

It was fascinating what a few hours of rest and magical demon saliva could do to help the human body. All of your wounds had pretty much closed up—albeit a tad sore, but nothing as awful as the pain you were in when being clawed in the moment. It was even more fascinating how alive Changmin looked despite literally not being alive. And the fact he hadn't slept a wink within the past day at least.

You, on the other hand, looked like a dumpster fire. Your hair was a bird's nest, eye bags more expensive than Louis Vuitton. Your stomach gave another whining growl; you'd ordered not five minutes ago with a middle-aged woman in too-bright red lipstick and a blue collared dress uniform.

"Are you sure you're not like, a vampire?"

His face dropped into a deadpan you'd seen before. "Oh my God."

"You can say His name?"

Your lips curled into a self-indulgent smile at the way he rolled his eyes so hard, he could probably see his brain back there. (If he had one.) "Sorry."

"You're not sorry," he said, eyebrow arching. "Do you have any real questions?"

Your hands shifted to your lap as your gaze moved to the window next to you. The sky was an ugly, sickly shade of gray-green. It reminded you of the lighting from the first Twilight movie, and you gagged at the thought. The bright red and neon of the diner clashed horridly with the sky, too. All of it was a little disconcerting.

Back in the car, when Changmin was first introducing you to the real world, he'd given you the short version of the supernatural who lived amongst oblivious humans. He hadn't gotten down to the nitty-gritty, just the shit he needed you to know so he could justify hauling you across the state, and to understand all the supernatural creatures after the little pendant resting beneath your shirt collar.

Two mugs of coffee were set onto your table, the dark liquid sloshing over the sides to stain the white below it.

You reached for your mug first, gently cooling it down with a breath. When you took a sip, gingerly, you grimaced. You somehow managed to wrestle the liquid down, but the searing bitterness was enough to make you push the cup away and reach for the sugar packets at the end of the table.

Changmin watched you in amusement, tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you ripped a Stevia packet open. "What're you laughing at?"

"M'not laughing," he shrugged. He picked up his cup of coffee, clinked it against yours for good measure, then chugged the cup of shit in one sitting.

You watched in ill-concealed disgust, horror, and… maybe you were a little impressed.

When he set the drained cup on the table, he wiped his smug mouth with a napkin from the aluminum dispenser.

It was your turn to deadpan. "Show off," you muttered, stirring your artificial sweetener into the dark brown brew.

He shrugged again. "What? Like it's hard?"

"Oh my god, you can be funny."

Your chicken tenders arrived. Steam wafted from them and you closed your eyes to inhale the beautiful smell. Happiness on a plate, you liked to think.

Changmin thanked the waitress who had also delivered him a plate of blueberry pancakes. He eyed you quietly as you inhaled the food on your plate, despite the dull throbbing in your throat.

You caught his gaze, stopping mid-tender. "Want some?" You asked after swallowing the bite, gesturing to your fries.

He shook his head and began buttering up his hotcakes. "Nah. Have at it."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence as you ate your separate meals. Changmin had told you before that demons didn't need all the typical things humans needed to "survive" or "live." Technically, since he was undead, there were only a handful of ways he could die. Eating and sleeping were necessary for human life, but they were more so preferences for him. If he wanted to eat, he could eat. If he wanted to close his eyes and dream, he could try.

The thought had you waving a fry at him. "The switchblade," you began, drawing his attention and pancake-stuffed cheeks, "what was it? It definitely wasn't something human-made."

Changmin swallowed his bite. "It was an angel blade."

"You're kidding," you drawled in disbelief.

He challenged your stare. "Believe it or not, it was. Forged up there." He lifted the prongs of his fork up toward the ceiling, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.

Your jaw dropped. "So the Big Man Upstairs does exist?"

"I mean, I don't really know. I've never met him if he does. I just know the angels are ruled by the Seraphim," he told you. "Lots of hierarchical bullshit I didn't care to pay attention to."

He impaled another piece of pancake. "Angel blades are one of the few things that can kill a creature like that."

"A demon?" You asked.

"Yes. Lower level demons are easier to kill, especially with a blade like the one I gave you." He shoved the bite into his cheek to continue, "That's why I was able to take on multiple at once."

You made a noise of indignation. "So you're telling me you're a higher level demon?"

His shoulders fell in a half-hearted shrug.

"Helpful," you muttered as you washed your meal down with bittersweet coffee. You paused for a moment, cleaning your fingers off with a napkin. "The… the licking thing."

Changmin's eyes could not meet yours. "Mhm."

"Do you… do you do that often?"

"No," he said curtly. "That party trick only works on humans and I don't really enjoy the taste of blood."

You pursed your lips at his rather clipped response. "Oh." You recalled the sound he'd made as he cleaned your blood up with his tongue at the motel… maybe it was something out of disgust. You suddenly felt out of place, like you had made his shoulders tense up and the air crackle. You racked your brain. "I—thanks, by the way."

With a cough, he murmured, "Welcome. Couldn't have you dying on me."

You nursed your coffee cup, reaching up to absentmindedly fondle the pendant under your shirt. "Yeah."

"Have you ever met an angel?"

The car was quiet as Changmin peered over his shoulder to switch lanes, the blinker tick-tocking away until it was turned off. "Yeah."

You stared out the front windshield to count the white colored cars on the highway amongst you. "What're they like?"

"They're like every other species," he said, unenthused. "Some are more asshole-ish than others. You'll find good ones and bad ones." A sigh. "The ones I've met have largely been the latter though."

"Oh." You weren't sure if you were disappointed by that answer.

The diner had been less than half an hour ago and you were back on the road again. Yours and Changmin's ETA to your sister's safehouse was supposedly another five or so hours. You couldn't believe she owned safehouses. For fuck's sake, she lived with you for majority of the time before she went to study abroad… she probably wasn't even abroad all those times, you realized anxiously.

It was like he could sense your change in mood from bored curiosity to tense overthinking. He dug around in the pocket of his pants and handed you the pommel of the switchblade from the motel. Angel blade, he'd called it.

You glanced at him in question, but he only pushed it into your palms.

"Get comfortable with it," he said. "It's a decent size as far as angel blades goes, since those fuckers don't really like to give them up. It's good for self defense."

The blade looked like something one could buy at a gift shop, slim with some heft, painted a shiny white color. There was no logo on it, but if you looked at it from the right angle, it shimmered. You unlocked it and let the blade whip out of the slot. The blade was shaped like any other box cutter you've seen before, but the underside had a serrated edge for extra ease in slicing through tougher materials. Your finger ghosted over the glowing metal, silver warming to a yellow-orange, but only if you didn't blink in the daylight.

You killed a demon with this. The blade burned the creature.

"How'd you get this if they don't like giving these up?" You asked as you figured out how to put the blade back into its sheath.

His fingers drummed against the wheel. "Won it in a poker game," he said.

Your eyebrows lifted. "Seriously?"

You swore there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Seriously."

With nothing better to do, you flicked the blade in and out, in and out. You'd only ever really held blades in the kitchen and when opening packages. "Do you have a name for it?"

"A name?"

"Yeah," you said, shifting slightly in your seat as an ache crept into your spinal cord, "y'know like the fantasy books where they name their blades." You inspected the switchblade again, rotating it in your hands. "Looks like a Clyde."

Changmin let out a huff from his nose. "Clyde?"

"What? Got any better ideas?"

"How about we don't name dangerous utilities for murder," he drawled.

"I can't believe you didn't just say 'weapons.'" When he didn't answer you, you made an indignant little noise you hoped annoyed him and admired the angel blade in your hand in a new light. Clyde. Hi, Clyde. You're pretty.

"Don't tell me you're communicating with it," he said to you.

You ran your finger over the flat side again with a fond smile—just to annoy him. "It doesn't give me lip."

A sigh. He tended to do that a lot. "How's your neck?"

Your hand lifted to your throat and massaged it lightly. "It's doing alright. Does it still look bruised?"

You tilted your neck so he could take a good look at it. He eyed the span of flesh there, his dark irises taking on a strange tint. The corner of his mouth curled downward as he turned his focus back to the road. "Yeah."

"It doesn't hurt as bad anymore, if that's any better."

"I guess," he grumbled. "Humans are so fragile."

"Hey man," you huffed, "is it my fault that I don't have magic spit or my skin doesn't heal fast—"

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's not magic spit. That's just how human biology reacts to demon saliva." Changmin tapped the back of his hand on the steering wheel as a vague gesture.

You shifted in your seat to look at him and so that you could take pressure off one side of your back. "I have a question. Why does demon saliva have healing properties when usually lore says that you guys are opposite in nature? Actually, that kind of sounds prejudicial," you thought aloud.

"It is prejudicial," he replied. "Well, mostly. It depends on the demon, but we're just like any other species. It's just that most pop culture depicts us as evil. Demons and vampires are derivations of each other in that—"

"So you are a vampire!"

He didn't even try to counter you this time. "Both species have saliva that can heal wounds, not large wounds, but you can probably imagine that vampires use it to seal puncture marks post-meal."

That made sense to you. "But why do demons need it?"

"Human blood…" he trailed off for a moment as he narrowly missed a car zooming past, his glaring eyes trailing after them, "...is like our saliva. It regenerates us. It's kind of like an energy drink, so it's not a necessity, but more so like a luxury or privilege."

You swallowed and you could've sworn you heard a soft huff from his mouth like a laugh. The thought of your blood being like an energy drink for him—and he'd literally licked your wounds clean at the motel that night. Was that how he was able to heal so quickly? It was a marvel he hadn't drunk you dry. But then again, he'd also said blood wasn't his taste…?

"Are you sure you don't like human blood?" You asked, sounding like a broken record, but more apprehensively this time.

"Sweetheart, you really think you'd still be here if I did?"

Touché.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Changmin stiffen. His hands tightened the slightest amount around the steering wheel, his eyes darting from the front windshield to the rearview mirror.

"What?" You asked, taking a look through the side mirror on your side. "What's wrong?"

Changmin's face washed over in a careful blankness. "We're being followed."

Your whole body tensed and you had to physically restrain yourself from twisting around in your seat. "What?"

"Hey, stay calm." He flicked his turn signal on casually as he exited off the freeway.

"Why are you telling them where we're going?!" He was literally signaling to whoever was following you exactly your next move.

"Just because we're on the run, doesn't mean we shouldn't follow basic driving safety."

You sent him a very emboldened stink eye. "Out of all the times, you choose now to have a sense of humor and to be an upstanding citizen?" Where was this during the entire road trip thus far?

Changmin made no other comments as he turned right onto the street leading further away from the freeway. You sat quietly for a moment, monitoring the cars behind you from your side mirror. Your knee started bouncing as you took note of the white sedan following behind, not tailgating, but its intentions were clear enough where even you could pick it out.

"What're we gonna do?" You murmured.

Changmin glanced over at you briefly. "We're gonna be fine. We just have to lose them."

"No shit."

"And you say I give you lip?"

Without any forewarning, Changmin jerked the car to the left, practically zooming across the intersection to catch the yellow light. Your whole body sailed across the center console, and before you could give him a piece of your mind, he was sending you crashing into your doorway from another sharp turn. You glared daggers at him, but turned to peer out your window.

The white car was still following after you. They must have run the red light then.

Changmin's sharp eyes sliced across the rearview mirror, and his foot lowered on the gas pedal like a challenge. His eyes whipped back and forth for somewhere he could go next, brain working double the speed. "Hold onto something, sweetheart."

"I don't think that would—HELPPP!" You sputtered and yanked on the handle above the door, hugging yourself to that side of the car.

You could hear the tires of Changmin's car burn rubber and squeal as he zigzagged through streets. You were pretty sure half of this was residential, you thought as the landscape blurred past.

"Do you even know where—" You swore as your body flailed around from another one of his god awful swerves, "—we are?"

He shook his head and floored the gas. "Nope."

Great.

It was about fifteen minutes of this supposed drag racing before his driving finally began to even out. You were seconds from hurling up diner food when you realized…

"Where the fuck did the trees come from?" You asked, lowering your tense form from the door handle.

You pressed your nose against the window to gawk up at the towering trees on your side of the vehicle, all dark green and beautiful. A light fog clung to some of the leaves, making the sunlight streaming through them look like golden strands of gossamer. The road you drove on held to the side of the mountain, but from what you could tell, Changmin had officially lost the white sedan.

Changmin visibly relaxed. "You might wanna pull up a GPS."

You reached over to your phone in the cupholder. But you pretty much tossed it right back. "No bars. Where did you take us?" You didn't even realize there was so much forest in this area. How come you hadn't seen it from the highway?

He gave a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Shit."

The car sunk into silence. Changmin could do nothing else but follow the road until you hit civilization or some kind of sign as to where you two were. You hadn't been in this part of the state before, so it wasn't like you could point out any landmarks. But as you both continued along, you settled into a sort of calm—the trees here were beautiful, untouched by man. Even from inside the car, you could feel the serenity.

Your finger pressed down on the button on your door to lower the window. You stuck your head out, hair flowing behind you. With a great inhale, your mouth broke into a smile. It smelled just as gorgeous as it looked. Fresh and clean and—

"You've got to be shitting me."

You pulled yourself back into the car and raised the window back up. "What?"

Changmin's mouth was set in a firm line, a dimple pressing deep into his cheek. "Wolves."

Your brows knitted together. "Huh?"

"We're in wolf shifter territory."

Just as he said this to you, the car rounded the side of the bend and revealed a large green sign that read: WELCOME TO MOONSTONE CREAK! Population 276.

The sign following it did not make you feel any better: CAMPERS! BEWARE OF WOLVES.

#6—BEWARE OF WOLVES.

AT THE FIRST SIGN OF WOLVES, you sunk low in your seat. You'd made eye contact with one of the furry creatures hidden in the brush, their sharp predator eyes narrowing at the sight of a foreign entity in their woods.

"By wolf shifters," you said quietly, holding onto Clyde in your lap, "you mean like… werewolves?"

Changmin's eyes stayed on the road ahead, but every once in a while, you would catch him scanning the forest, too. "Those aren't the same things. Werewolves are the things you read about in lore, half-man and half-wolf. Wolf shifters can change completely from man to wolf and vice versa."

"Oh." Well, that cleared some things up. "I'm guessing they don't take kindly to trespassers?"

He bit his lip. "I mean, it depends on the pack. If my hunch is right about where we are though, we shouldn't have to worry."

You gulped. "And if you aren't?"

"Well, I told you to get used to that angel blade, right?"

The trek further into the forest and mountains continued. The scenery around you was still as stunning as it was before, and you thought to yourself how dangerous a beautiful thing could be. Every time you peeked out of the car window, you saw a flash of something in the woods beyond the road. There had to be a reason why they hadn't attacked the car yet, right? If this was a pack of wolves who didn't like trespassers, then why were you and Changmin still alive?

Maybe they wanted you in a place where there was no chance of outsiders hearing you scream…

Your intrusive thoughts were getting to you.

There was a dead end, a near broken road sign and fence directing all passers-by that this was the end. Changmin was forced to take the off-road path, beaten into the dirt as it wound through the forest. If you didn't have signal up on the main road, you definitely would not have any here.

It was a few more minutes of traveling down the path that two wolves appeared before the car. Changmin brought the vehicle to a slow halt. The wolves were relatively large, spanning about six feet and about as tall as the bottom rim of the car door window. One of the wolves had black hair like a raven, and the other had hair like a field of grain.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as the wolves stared right at you. "Changmin…?"

He met their staring contest with little intimidation. "It's… it's fine. I think they recognize me."

After a moment, the two wolves broke their strange staring contest and trotted off to the side of the road. They were back so quickly, you almost didn't realize what had happened. Like magic, they had transformed into two toned young men, both nicely built with their lean upper body on display. They must have had a strategic stash of shorts hidden behind a tree for after they shifted to their human forms. One had cropped black hair, the other blond. Well, at least that made sense.

Changmin slumped in his chair, relieved. The corners of his mouth curled upward in an almost-smile, as the two wolf shifters came over to greet him at his window.

The brunette bent his head down to the window with a broad smile, the kind that made your stomach fill with butterflies. (Not to mention the eyeful of abs you and Changmin were getting…) He leaned his arms over the top of the car window, eyes flickering from the demon to you. "Long time no see, Changmin. Who's your friend?"

"That's Yn," your demon guardian said, clasping one of the man's hands in greeting. He reached for the second wolf shifter. "Haknyeon, nice to see you, too."

"Good to see you, Changmin" said the blond.

Oh, so he knew them.

Changmin gestured to the two men. "Yn, this is Kevin and Haknyeon. They're with the pack."

"Not that we're unhappy to see you," Kevin drawled, "but how did you find us?"

Okay, wait. If Changmin knew them, then why wouldn't he know the location of their pack? You sat quiet, waiting for someone to explain it to you… or just explain everything to you.

"Someone was following us and I lost them," Changmin told them, "but I managed to get us lost, too. Coincidence that we ended up here. I'm glad it's you guys and not another pack."

Kevin's eyebrows flew up. "Yeah, for sure. Well—" he turned his head up toward the treetops and scanned the skies. They were beginning to bruise like your skin as the sun sank somewhere amongst the trees and into the horizon. You hadn't even realized how dark it was starting to get. "—sun's already pretty low right now. Why don't you guys shack up with us tonight and then we'll help you out in the morning?"

"That would be great actually." Wow, really? You kept your surprise at bay. "Lead the way."

With no further discussion needed, Kevin and Haknyeon disappeared behind the same large tree trunk from before, then re-emerged as the wolves from before. Kevin, the one with black colored fur, pointed with his snout in the direction the path would take you. The two wolves began to trot down the path, and Changmin waited for them to get somewhat ahead before he flicked his headlights on and followed.

It was a curious act of consideration, you thought.

You watched as the wolves began to pick up speed, your eyes flickering to the speedometer. "So…" you drawled, "what the fuck just happened?"

A sharp huff, his version of a laugh. "They're old friends," he said.

"How'd you not know this was where their pack was if they're old friends?"

"I met them out of the pack," he explained. "It was somewhere in the New England area, and we just happened to be hunting the same thing."

Hunting? Oh, bounty hunter. Right. "And the—the shifting thing."

"What about it?"

You made a face of frustration. He always made you pull teeth when you wanted background information. "Everything."

He glanced at you. "I think it'd be better if one of them explained it to you. Better to have one of their own say it right than risk me getting something wrong."

That was, unfortunately, a very fair answer.

Instead of pushing on the wolf topic, you had more questions that he could answer. "So what now? Are we just gonna stay the night? Is it safe?" What if that white car found a way in here? Neither of you could see who the driver was, and so how could either of you be sure they weren't trying to perhaps get you both here? And if they also had the means to come in here without being marked as trespassers?

"It's safe," he said with such confidence that you arched your brows. He saw your expression, making a soft turn along the road as the wolves had, the pads of his fingers lifting off the steering wheel for a second in gesture. "I know what you're probably thinking, but it's safer than sleeping out in a motel off the highway, alright? Packs usually don't drive cars, and they have maybe one or two for convenience sake. They can smell trespassers from miles away, and they usually have people on watch all the time, which is how they found us so quickly."

You supposed that made sense. The forest here seemed denser, and with the quickly fading light, it made it all the more unnavigable. If you were to try to run… good fucking luck.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. As the car rounded the bend, yours and Changmin's faces illuminated with the glow of light.

The town was laid out flat before you, not over a ridge, not over a mountain, but a path that led into a central meeting place with wooden buildings all around it. The lights were all from candle-lit lanterns rather than the LEDs and fluorescents of the human world. There were a mixture of both wolves and people milling about, an air of warm cheeriness that you could feel even from the car. You felt a fuzziness manifest in your chest at the sight.

Kevin and Haknyeon directed Changmin toward a back road to the right behind a row of buildings. It was most likely to avoid getting in the way of the pack members, you guessed. You kept silent as you averted your eyes from the void-like darkness of the forest beyond to your right.

Up ahead, you saw the two wolves trot into a small paved area with one other car parked along the walkway. It seemed to be like a makeshift alleyway of sorts between two blocks of buildings. With some maneuvering, Changmin managed to parallel park into the space that was just big enough for his vehicle.

When he parked, he gestures for you to follow his lead and get out of the car. "You should be safe to come out with me. We'll probably meet the pack alpha and get everything settled—" His head tilted to the side, "—hopefully."

Your eyes shuttered. "Hopefully?" You echoed. Pack alpha? What the fuck did that entail? From what you remember in the books and shows, you thought to yourself as you clambered out of the car and stretched your sore limbs, wolf packs had an alpha that would lead everyone. You weren't sure if you would have to go through some kind of cult initiation or something to be granted permission to stay the night.

The angel blade sat tucked into the pocket of your pants along with your phone, and you slammed your car door shut. From here, you could peer down the alley and see out into the glowing atmosphere of the town center. It sounded like fun, actually—all of the chatter and laughter. You hadn't been anywhere so lively-sounding in awhile.

"Yn right?"

You startled a little, whirling around to find the brunette—Kevin was his name—smiling at you sheepishly. He was back in human form with a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt on. "Sorry I snuck up on you," he said.

"Oh, it's totally fine!" You laughed bashfully, smoothing a hand down your hair. "And yes, I'm Yn. You're Kevin, right?"

Man, he was so much prettier up close…

Kevin nodded. "Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Changmin says this is all pretty new to you." He gestured loosely to the world around him, an all encompassing notion to the entire world you had just unearthed beneath your nose.

Your eyes darted behind Kevin where Changmin and Haknyeon were gathered on the other side of the car, pulling yours and Changmin's bags out the backseat. Changmin caught your eyes, lifted his eyebrows, then returned to his conversation.

So he was just gonna leave you in the hands of the very handsome wolf shifter? Cool.

"Yeah, it's kind of a crazy story," you mused. Understatement of the century. "Thanks for taking us in, by the way.

"It's no worries," he chirped. "Changmin and us? We go back pretty far, I'd like to think."

"Oh, cool! He mentioned something about that… and something about meeting the pack alpha?"

Kevin's eyes flickered to something behind you, and you turned around to see what or who it was on instinct. "It's nothing to stress about—he's coming this way, actually."

You felt his hand, warm and large, gently settle between your shoulder blades to guide you toward the two men making their way down the alley toward you both.

One of them… well you could feel the subtle shift in the air. It was as if molecules in the air moved for him. He boasted a powerful sort of stature, with dark hair parted neatly to frame a carved face. For a moment, you didn't know if you were supposed to bow or something, but then he smiled, and you nearly fell over from that alone. He wasn't so scary once he smiled.

The man next to him was a lighter brunette with a cheery expression engraved onto his face as if that were his default setting. There was something about him, however—you thought he glowed a little in the dim light. The angel blade in your pocket seemed to warm slightly at the sight of him.

(So was everyone just super attractive in the supernatural world?)

"Changmin-ah," greeted the man with darker colored hair. He clasped his hand with Changmin's in greeting. "It's been awhile."

"It has," your demon counterpart agreed. "Thanks for taking us in on such short notice. I wouldn't have intruded had I known."

The man brushed the thought away. "It's okay, really. Nice to have a couple new faces around."

"Speaking of new faces," drawled the second man. He beamed a pretty smile your way, waving. "Hi, little one."

Something warm blossomed in your chest. "Hi," you said softly. You weren't certain of etiquette—if you were expected to speak for yourself, to bow…

But it seemed Kevin had your back. He clasped his warm hand on your shoulder. "This is Yn. She came in with Changmin."

"Nice to meet you, Yn. I'm Sangyeon." This was the man with black hair, who felt like the tangible version of power. He must have been the pack alpha. He had to be.

The other man placed a hand on his chest. "And I'm Jacob!"

"We're just looking for a place to stay for the night," Changmin piped up. He tucked his hands into his pockets, eyes shifting over to yours.

"Well, why don't we head over to the pack house and we can talk about all the details of a plan," said Sangyeon. He inclined his chin in the direction of where you assumed the pack house was. Then his eyes, you watched their keen movements, latched onto Kevin's as if they were communicating silently. "Yn," you nearly jolted when you realized he was addressing you. "Kevin's gonna take you to the small inn we have here. It'll give you a little more privacy, and I'm sure you've felt pretty overwhelmed."

It didn't sound like he was asking you, but there was a warmth to his smile. You couldn't help but feel inclined to agree.

Changmin's head went on a swivel. "Wait, she's not coming with us?"

Haknyeon and Jacob were already rounding on either side of him to guide him in the opposite direction Kevin was leading you. Something in the back of your head made you turn over your shoulder to look at him. Was being separated such a bad thing?

Haknyeon suddenly tossed Kevin your backpack, the latter shouldering it.

"Come on, Yn," Kevin chirped, angling his body as he nudged you along so you could no longer see Changmin. "There's a lovely hearth in the main lobby, and the auntie who runs the place makes the best cookies ever."

You nodded slowly as your brain struggled to think of any reason why they would separate you from Changmin. And why did he sound so surprised? Your hand drifted toward the pocket that hid your angel blade. "Oh, really? That sounds nice."

They didn't drug them, did they? Your shoulders tensed at the idea.

Why did they separate you and Changmin—

The inn was the building right outside the alley with a porch that spanned the front facade. The architecture reminded you of an upscale cabin with large oak logs piled atop each other to make up the structure. A warm light emitted from the front windows and glass doors, and you swore you could smell the cookies from here.

When you and Kevin entered the building, he called out a greeting to an older woman stationed behind a reception desk in the back corner. She greeted the both of you with a cordial smile, wiggling her fingers in a wave. Her head tilted curiously at you, however, her eyes zeroing in on…

Your attention was drawn away and you were directed toward the seating area on the other side of the lobby.

"Can I get you any water or anything?" Kevin asked you as he motioned for you to take a seat in the armchair adjacent to him. He set your backpack at your feet for you.

You lowered yourself onto the edge of the seat, hand reaching for the pendant beneath your shirt—you stopped short. Could he sense the power of the pendant? Was that why they separated you from your demon bodyguard? Oh fuck—

"Hey, hey," Kevin suddenly said softly, face morphing into an expression of concern. "No need to get panicked, okay? You're safe now."

Wait. What? You wrung your hands in your lap, heart still throwing itself up against your ribcage. "Safe? What do you mean safe? Safe from what?"

Kevin considered you for a moment, but the gentleness from his voice and body language never left. "You're safe from Changmin."

"Safe from Changmin?"

"Yes," he affirmed patiently. "The bruises on your neck—"

Your hand went to cover the side of your throat where it had been pierced by the maw of a demon, but not Changmin.

"—does he feed from you? They look fresh—"

You immediately put your hands up to gesticulate in wild opposition. "Oh, no, no, no. He—he didn't feed from me; he saved my life, actually. We were attacked by other demons and I was bleeding out, and he just closed the wounds. He… he isn't, uhm… yeah."

Kevin's posture changed, and his smile became relieved—sheepish even. "Well, shit. I'm sorry for assuming, Yn; it's just that a lot of people end up here because they're in unhealthy relationships, and I saw the marks on your neck and just assumed the worst." He cupped the back of his neck. "This must have been really confusing for you. Sorry about that."

Okay, now that made a lot more sense. Your adrenaline was slowly teetering out and the tension left your shoulders. "No, please, that's honestly really nice that you would help victims like this. It did give me a little scare, but… yeah no, this wasn't Changmin's doing."

"That eases my mind a lot," he chuckled. Then he turned and nodded to the auntie behind the reception desk. You watched as she disappeared out the doors of the inn. "She's just gonna let Sangyeon know that everything's good."

"I thought you said you and Changmin go way back…?" Did they not trust him?

Kevin leaned back in his armchair. "We do. It's just protocol, you know? Whether or not we know them, it doesn't matter."

That was good for victims, you thought. Though, you couldn't imagine what they were really discussing with Changmin then… "So Changmin…"

"Sangyeon, Jacob, and Haknyeon would have taken care of him if I told them he was harming you," he replied, lips pressed together. "They really are talking about how you both ended up here though—that, and plans for the morning."

It was like he could read your mind.

A lot had happened just now, and you were still reeling from the fact that you didn't need to prepare to run. Though, you were still hyperaware of Clyde's warmth in your pocket.

Kevin noticed your far-off expression. He leaned forward onto his knees, that kind smile of his curling onto his face and making you feel some sort of woozy. "I know it's probably been a lot for you. Do you have any questions for me?"

He was so different from Changmin. While with the demon getting information was like pulling teeth, here was Kevin offering you information. They were polar opposites, really. You wondered what it might have been like if Kevin had been the one to take you on this quest instead—your mind shuttered. What a strange thought. Changmin might have been a pain in your ass in the beginning (and still now), but… it wasn't like he hadn't protected you. You didn't know.

"I guess," you started, "what's gonna happen now?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Well, uhm, I think we're both gonna find out once Changmin gets back. See what they've all decided on. But for sure, you and he will be able to shack up here for the night."

You gave a slow nod. "Is Sangyeon the pack alpha? Kind of a stupid question—"

"It's not a stupid question at all," Kevin said. "But yes, he's the pack alpha. You can just consider him as a community leader, essentially."

"And you're all wolf shifters?"

A nod, then he paused, tilting his head. "Yes, but Jacob's not a wolf shifter; he's an angel."

Your eyebrows flew up. Everything was suddenly making a lot more sense. "An angel? So he and Changmin aren't, like, mortal enemies or anything?" You hadn't noticed any wings on him…

Kevin laughed. "Oh, you're cute. No, thankfully they are not mortal enemies. Jacob's too nice to have enemies."

"Even someone like Changmin?" You jested.

"Even someone like Changmin," he said, humoring you. "Speaking of the demon, you two aren't…?"

You sucked in a breath. "Definitely not. We're not together or anything. It's a long story, but our meeting and traveling together is just because of a common goal." You couldn't tell why the thought of you and Changmin being an item made your heart cartwheel. Perhaps it was simply the anxiety of being thought of as Changmin's significant other that made you want to jump to correct that assumption. Yes, that was it.

Kevin bit his bottom lip like he was trying to hide a smile. "Ah, I see. That's good to know."

"And why's that?" You asked.

You could have sworn if he was in wolf form, his ears would have been tucked against his head. "Nothing!" He insisted. "It would just be a shame to not take a chance when it's presented, you know?"

You weren't quite sure what he meant by that, but for some reason, you were eager to find out.

It was late still when Changmin knocked on your open door, lingering on the threshold. You had just stepped out of the shower in the private en suite your accommodations had, a towel settled upon your shoulders to act as a barrier between your wet hair and dry clothes. He didn't look any worse for wear—then again, he never did.

"Everything okay with Kevin?" He asked, clearing his throat. You felt his eyes on you, scanning your body as if searching for any signs out of the ordinary.

You were searching for your phone charger in your bag. "Yeah, it was good. What—what happened with you?" You asked and lifted your eyes to meet his as you fondled the cord between your fingers.

He stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Well," he drawled, "Sangyeon offered to send a small group out to scout for any signs of our pursuers from today. In the meantime, we're invited to stay here to recuperate for a couple days. If not, then they'll restock our supplies and help us out of here."

"I'm guessing you already made a decision." You paused when you realized there weren't any outlets in this room. Anywhere. A curse fell from your lips and you dumped your cord and dead cell phone into your bag.

"I figured you could use the rest," he said.

Your head whipped upward.

He arched a brow at you. "If that's alright with you."

Was he really asking you? No buts, no ifs, no snark? "Yeah, that's fine with me."

"Maybe a couple days here will be good for your frail, human body anyway."

There it is. You rolled your eyes so far back, you swore you saw your brain waving at you. "And maybe some fake demon sleep will make you less grouchy."

You thought he smiled. It could have been a trick of the light or sleep deprivation. "Whatever."

Just when it seemed like he was about to turn and leave, he stopped. "Kevin's taken a liking to you."

You stilled, attention piqued. "Really? How could you tell?"

Changmin gauged your reaction, and again, you couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. "You need to sleep."

"Wait, you're just gonna ignore my—and he's gone." You huffed and collapsed onto the bed. It was awfully comfortable.

Leave it up to Changmin to leave you high and dry like that.

You rolled over the surface of the bed to close your door. Quietly, you went around the room to close the knobs of the lanterns to put out the lights like Kevin had showed you earlier. The only light now came from outside the window, the campfire and lanterns in the pack center streaming through the shutters to create an elongated stripe pattern along the walls and floors.

You climbed into bed—it was a strange, but welcomed feeling.

Only a couple days without a bed, yet it felt like years had passed. You could only hope you didn't wake up to a demon at your throat this time.

#7—THE ONLY ONE.

WOLVES BEAT EVEN THE SUN from her slumber, you came to find out. The next morning, you rolled out of bed to hear the sound of muffled voices outside your window. Your body ached in places you didn't even think they could ache, and you stretched your arms up over your head as you opened the shutters.

Just a little off from your window stood a small gathering of creatures, both in human and wolf forms. You recognized Kevin as one of the human ones among them. It was the noise of your open shutter that had him turning his head up toward your window. He saw you there, and a smile blossomed on his face, bright and easy. He wasn't wearing a shirt again, as was the other man standing beside him. The other two in their group were wolves.

Kevin waved at you, catching the attention of the others with him. The man beside him beamed and waved, too.

You chuckled to yourself and returned the gesture.

Kevin beckoned you down with his hand.

You searched the window sill for the latch, muttering in triumph when you managed to notch it open.

He had walked over to stand directly below your window by the time you stuck your head out. "Good morning!" He chirped. "Good sleep?"

"Good morning, and so far I think so," you mused, unconsciously smoothing down your hair. You hadn't even checked the state of your bed head. Yikes.

"There's breakfast in the pack house if you'd like," he offered. "I can walk you over?"

You leaned your cheek against your fist. "Sounds great. Give me some time to get ready."

"Take your time!"

You locked the window back up, dropped the shutters, and hurried to get changed. It occurred to you, as you were getting yourself prepped and primed to face another day in a new world, that you hadn't felt so giddy in awhile. And about a boy nonetheless. The skip in your step was crazy to you, and—did you even have anything nice to wear?

You just managed to yank one of the nicer of your graphic tees over your head when you heard a knock at the door.

"Just a second!" You called, carding your fingers through your hair and separating into three so you could braid it out of your face.

You ripped the door open. "Hi."

Changmin stood on the other side looking slightly refreshed with his dark hair damp and plastered over his forehead. His eyes narrowed slightly at your lightened countenance, the way you actually cared about how you were doing your hair, the… everything. He sent you a look. "Breakfast is in the pack house, but I have a feeling you already knew that."

"Yeah, I was just headed down, actually." You stepped out into the hallway with him, closing your bedroom door behind you. Clyde sat in your pocket, replacing where your phone would have been stashed had it any use.

He cocked his head to the side. "You seem a lot more…" He made a gesture with one of his hands. "Alive."

"Well, considering I don't have magic regeneration—"

"Forget I said anything," he said, shaking his bangs from his eyes and beginning to walk down the corridor toward his room. "Go get sustenance, Yn."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You watched him disappear into his room before you made your way to the stairs.

Kevin was waiting for you in the lobby, perking up when you appeared on the stairway landing and made your descent. He took a couple steps to meet you in the middle, and you noticed that he had found a shirt to put on. Damn. "Hope you like waffles," he said as the two of you fell into step beside each other to head out of the inn.

"Love 'em."

It seemed that the entirety of Moonstone Creak was awake, even at such an early hour. The sun had yet to even clamber up above the treetops, leaving the sky a soft mesh of purple and orange. The air was as fresh as it had been yesterday, cool and pure, washing your lungs and waking you up some more.

"Is everyone awake so early?" You asked him, inhaling as much of the peace as you could.

Kevin nodded. "Pretty much, unless you're just coming back from a night watch. We usually encourage the pups to come out and exercise with us."

"Us?"

"The pack's primary watch," he clarified. "You probably saw me talking to a few of them earlier."

"Ah," you hummed. "That's nice though. You're all such a lovely community… It's refreshing."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled at you. "Thank you. I like to think we're a really big family."

You could see as much. By the way Kevin greeted all of his fellow pack members, a part of you wondered what it might have been like to grow up somewhere like this instead of always chasing after safety and security.

You and your sister had always got by somehow, but it had never been like this. With your parents gone so early in both of your lives, you only really had each other to rely on, besides the occasional aunt and uncle who took turns caring for the both of you until your sister turned 18. And now with your sister gone?

For some reason, it felt like you were still taking care of her in death. But perhaps that was the cost of seeking closure.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when they said pack house, but what you saw was about what it sounded like it was going to be. It was similar to the inn and many of the buildings around the area with its log cabin likeness, but this one was much, much larger. You could hear the squeals of children from out here, and there were smaller wolves chasing each other's tails around the wraparound porch. A few stopped to sit and cock their heads at you as you passed, their tails tick-tocking behind them.

It was strange seeing wolves carry around infants and toddlers in their hulking jaws, too, and Kevin chuckled when you almost stopped in your tracks. "It's no harm to them, don't worry."

"Yeah," you laughed nervously, fingering the pendant at your sternum. "It'll take some getting used to. Are you born as a wolf or as a human?" You asked him as the two of you stepped up the front steps of the porch and walked through the entryway.

"Depends—woah, hey guys. Careful!" Kevin clicked his tongue as he caught and lifted one of the younger boys off his legs just before he accidentally knocked over a table holding a vase of flowers.

The kid and his friend giggled as Kevin put him down away from the table. "Sorry Kevin!" And they were gone, out the front door.

He shared a smile with you, cupping the back of his neck. "Where was I?" He gestured to your right down a hallway; you could smell the sweetness and buttery goodness of breakfast. "Oh, right. It depends: since wolves and humans are mammals, giving birth is a little easier than other non-mammal shifters."

"Non-mammal shifters?" Your eyebrows shot up. "What other shifters exist?"

"Any you can think of, to be honest," he said. "All pups learn about their own growth and development though, especially since learning to shift and stay in touch with both their animal and human sides is so integral. It would probably be better if I connected you with someone who identifies as female to talk about birth specifically though," he admitted.

The kitchen was painted a pale shade of yellow that reflected the golden rays of sun and made the whole room much warmer and brighter. There was a mishmash of wolves and humans milling about the central island where a buffet-style breakfast was being served. The variety of food before you was enough to make even—as you liked to think—Changmin's mouth water. (He didn't need to eat, your ass. You saw the blueberry pancakes on the far end and wondered if he had some yet.)

Kevin passed you one of the plates stacked at the end before grabbing one for himself. "Lily, thank you for breakfast!"

Lily, you identified, was the woman leaning against the sink with a pale blue apron tied around her waist and baby bump. "You're welcome! Haknyeonie helped out, too."

Haknyeon's blond head poked in from where he was partly hiding in the butler's pantry, his cheeks stuffed with food. "Hm?"

You laughed to yourself as you started off by transferring a waffle to your plate. "Yes, thank you so much for breakfast. It looks delicious."

"Oh, no need for that," Lily beamed as she came over to the island across from you and put more food onto your plate. "Take more, please. We have so much to go around."

"Oh," you blinked, watching Kevin start to pile things onto his own plate. "It's so much; I don't want to take more than I can finish—"

"I'll help you finish," Kevin offered, shoving a strawberry into his mouth. "I'm sorry if it seems like we're pressuring you, though. I guess we're all just used to making sure the other is fed around here."

You could melt like a slab of butter between two warm hotcakes. "Thank you—I appreciate the thought."

Kevin ruffled your hair as the two of you continued around your tour of the island. "Of course."

From the entryway you had just come in, Sangyeon arrived whistling an offhanded tune under his breath. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Good morning!" Chorused around the kitchen at differing intervals as everyone greeted their pack alpha.

Sangyeon beelined around the island and over to Lily, the two of them exchanging fond touches and a warm kiss in greeting. "Morning, love."

"Good morning," Lily said. "Eaten yet?"

The dots connected in your head and you nudged Kevin as the two of you finished up at the island. "Lily and Sangyeon—?"

"Yeah, she's our alpha female," Kevin confirmed. "Six months pregnant. They celebrated nuptials about a year ago."

"Ah." You didn't mean to stare, but they were such a beautiful couple. Though you thought Sangyeon's smile was warm, it was nothing compared to the one he saved just for his partner.

He must have felt your eyes on him, and he lifted his gaze to yours while he held one of Lily's hands. "Yn, sleep well?"

Your eyes widened. "Oh, uh, yes. Yes, thank you."

"All of your accommodations are to your satisfaction, I hope?"

"More than satisfied," you stammered with a sheepish smile; he was talking to you, right? Everything was way beyond what you had been living with for the past couple of days. A demon-infested motel or this? Well, no competition there. You could still feel the impression of Changmin's passenger seat in your back.

Sangyeon nodded. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. I was hoping to speak with you and Changmin after breakfast about your situation. It'll be with myself and my closest advisors, plus the two of you."

"Yes, of course," you said. "Does Changmin already know?"

"I'll have someone run and let him know."

You and Kevin were dismissed to go forth with breakfast. The two of you settled in a room next door to the kitchen fitted with a long dining table that reminded you of a cartoon rich people banquet table. You sat adjacent to each other, Kevin at the head, and you with the seat to his left.

You smeared butter over the slots of your waffle. "Do I have to worry about what Sangyeon's gonna talk about at the meeting?"

Kevin shoved his bite into his cheek. "To my knowledge, no, but if you're worried, Sangyeon's advisors are a pretty cool crowd."

"Oh yeah?" You asked.

His lips turned up as he chewed. "Mhm," he hummed before swallowing, "I should know since I'm one of them."

Sangyeon had an office deep within the first floor of the pack house. It was tucked away somewhere between the living room in the back and the door down to the wine cellar. (Kevin joked that the first pack alpha had planned the layout of the first floor deliberately.)

Following your hearty breakfast, you found yourself seated in one of the armchairs in the leader's office chambers, amongst Changmin (in the chair next to you) and the other members of the so-called inner circle. Kevin lingered nearby, leaning against the office's hearth with his arms and ankles crossed idly. It seemed that the advising board included not just Kevin, but also Jacob, Lily, and someone named Juyeon. You learned that he was out on night guard when you came in last night, so you weren't able to properly meet him until now.

Sangyeon stood next to the office chair seated behind the grand, mahogany desk; Lily was automatically given the chair because of her pregnancy, and because she'd been working all morning. "Concerning the white sedan you said was trailing after you two yesterday—" he said, "—none of our scouts could follow a solid scent past the freeway entrance. It was interesting, actually."

Changmin leaned forward onto his forearms. "How so?" He asked, eyebrows creasing.

Sangyeon nodded to Juyeon, who filled in, "Well, we couldn't figure out what their scent is."

"How is that even possible?"

You blinked, brain whirring into overdrive. There was something you were missing yet again. What was the context here?

Kevin stepped over to your side and murmured to you, "We can usually pick apart scents to identify the layers, so this is why it's… concerning."

"Ah," you nodded. "Thanks."

"It was distinct for sure," Juyeon supplied with a vague gesture of his hands, "but it was nearly impossible to tell what species they were. It was easy enough picking apart the entity from the car smells—" Exhaust fumes, metal, seats, you assumed, "—and we could follow the smell as far as the entrance to the highway you guys came from, but…" He shook his head. "No-go. In all my years, I've never come across anything like it."

The helplessness that settled into the grooves of the room made you squirm, and your fingers fondled the red pendant at your collar again. Here was a space of the all-powerful, and yet, something as simple as a scent was throwing them all for a loop. You couldn't begin to wrap your head around the implications, because, well—you didn't know the implications.

(Dark. You were always sitting in the dark.)

Changmin passed you a glance, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking, as usual. "There has to be a way to somehow analyze it. Could we consult a witch?"

"I've already called an old friend," said Lily. "They're on their way over presently."

"Could I see the pendant?" Jacob's voice carried out into the room. Though he himself was soft-spoken, one could not mistake his volume. Everyone's attention cut over to you, and you wanted to be swallowed up by the earth beneath your feet. "If that's okay," he added. "It feels familiar."

"Feels?" You echoed, gripping the stone in your hand. The chain dug into the flesh of your neck as you anxiously yanked on it.

Changmin's eyes darted from the stone to you. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" You were overwhelmed; that was what you thought. You fisted it in your hand, suddenly reluctant to part with the thing that had caused you so much trouble as of late. You felt… an uncanny urge to keep it in your possession. "Uhm… you can see it, but I won't take it off."

Your devilish counterpart narrowed his eyes slightly, cocked his head to the side, at your behavior. He didn't say anything though, as if this truly was just all your decision. Perhaps this was because he knew that you weren't exactly buddies with these people yet. In retrospect, they were still strangers, and thus, potential threats to you.

Jacob took easy strides over to you from where he was standing by the desk. He passed you a reassuring smile as he knelt in front of you, close enough that you could see the eyelashes brush his cheeks. There was something warm radiating from him, and you swore you saw a flash of gold in his eyes.

Angel, right.

He rose up on his knees, holding out his hand, but not touching you. "May I?"

You pinched the part of the pendant attached to the chain and stuck it out toward him.

Jacob's eyebrows knitted together as he touched the pendant with only the tips of his fingers. You held your breath throughout the entirety of his assessment. When he finally leaned back onto his haunches, you blinked away whatever angelic warmth still lingered. "Juyeon, come smell the pendant."

Your eyes widened. "Uhm—"

"Hold on, what?"

"Wait, Jacob."

The latter two responses came from Changmin and Kevin, respectively, the two startling at Jacob's request.

There was a swift exchange of glances between everyone else and the alpha wolves in the room.

Lily said, "Yn?"

"Why are we sniffing the pendant now?" You asked, finding your voice.

Jacob looked up innocently. "Sorry, I probably should have explained myself. I think it might smell like the scent Juyeon was trying to track."

Something in the room shifted. You glanced down at the pendant in your grip and the questions in your head accumulated and accumulated and accumulated. What in Hell did you get me into, Sena?

"Okay," you said, "you can… smell the pendant."

You weren't sure why he couldn't smell it from where he was, but he took a couple steps over to you and replaced Jacob's position. Changmin's hand appeared on the arm of your chair as he leaned forward slightly.

Juyeon took a cautionary sniff, and his eyes widened. "That's it. It's—it was slightly different, but similar enough where it has to be the same entity." He looked up at you. "Is this the only one of its kind?"

You met Changmin's eyes.

He looked away first. "No."

Your gaze became earnest in his direction, and if you could, you would burn twin holes in the side of his head like a snakebite. More shit he hadn't told you. Were you surprised?

No? What did he mean no?

"We need to talk," you forced out of gritted teeth, gripping onto the arm of his chair now.

He passed you a glance. Later.

"Well, we can only really assume that the person following you was most likely after the pendant," Jacob said plainly as he stood from the ground and dusted off his pants. "But now that we know the origin of the scent, per se, it'll make the hunt a little easier."

Sangyeon gave a bob of his head. "Kevin, you're leading the search party for the day."

Kevin's head perked up, hand on the back of your chair. "But—"

A single look from his leader made his mouth snap closed.

"Yes, sir," Kevin murmured with a shallow nod of acknowledgement. He gave the back of your chair a small pat, then departed without another word from the office. You thought you could feel his presence leave your side, from the room. All of this feeling… was this how the supernatural operated? Was this what a sixth sense entailed all along?

"Juyeon—" the man in question raised his head, "—go find where Haknyeon and Eric are." Sangyeon scratched his temple with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like exasperation. "Grab them and round up the pups."

Juyeon brightened. "Are we taking them down to the creak?"

Lily nodded her approval. "Ooh, nice idea. Yn and Changmin, you're both free to join us. It's lovely down there."

You forced your hand to fall away from the pendant, but not before tucking it back beneath the collar of your shirt. It felt too exposed out here, sitting on your sternum for all to see. You nodded though, trying for a small smile. "Sure, sounds nice."

Sangyeon patted the desktop. "Excellent! The two of you can continue to make yourselves at home."

Though this was a physical conclusion to the meeting, your stomach continued to sit uncomfortably. This conversation should not have been over so quickly… right? Was there not more to discuss? Perhaps not now then. Maybe it was better to take your time letting this all sink in.

"Ah, before the two of you go join the little ones," Jacob cut in. He shot Changmin a pointed look. "You owe me something."

Changmin roughed a hand through his bangs, but you could have sworn his lips curled up with a smile. "Aish… your memory."

"It never fails me when I need it."

You glanced between the two; Changmin did owe you yet another explanation, but if there was something these two planned to settle… "What? What is it this time?"

Jacob grinned, and you definitely hadn't been hallucinating when you saw flickers of gold in his irises. "He owes me a sparring match."

a/n: i am clasping my hands in prayer for a reblog, comment, or ask. take a moment to grab a snack, drink some water, and head over to the second part! thanks for reading

read part two here (if it's not linked yet, refresh and it'll be at the top)

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @justalildumpling @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @outrologist @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @kflixnet

#kflixnet #deoboyznet #bjnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #q x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz drabbles #the boyz fanfic #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin oneshots #ji changmin drabbles #ji changmin scenarios

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-eleven

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: This is a long one so buckle up and enjoy! The heartbreak doesn't end here.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse

"Are you sure you don't want to come out with us?" Bryan asked as the two of us walked around backstage.

I nodded. "Yeah, I want to spend as much time with my mom as I can before we leave tomorrow night."

"Maybe we can get some time before the show and I can show you the programs I used to edit my photos."

"I'd like that," I smiled.

We talked another few minutes until we reached the green room where he held the door open for me as I walked in seeing Noah and Jolly in the room. Both Nick's headed back to the house for the night, both wanting some time to themselves. Noah, Jolly, and Bryan were going out to a local bar tonight for a few drinks to celebrate being back home for two nights and first night of a sold out show.

Hearing us walk in, Noah looked towards us and when our eyes locked memories of us in the closet earlier tonight rushed back into my mind causing my face to flush. Tonight during the show, I could focus on work by taking pictures or videos of the guys so I had little time to think about Noah and me. Now, however, seeing him sit there in his black cargo pants and blank tank top with his chin resting in his hand, all I could think about was the way he tasted on my tongue.

It wasn't an official way to ask me out, but we both agreed that we were each other's and Noah said that he was here for me with whatever I needed, and I believed him.

"Hi," I smiled while walking towards him.

"I thought you left already," Noah reached for my hand and pulled me into his lap.

My legs dangled over his lap as I sat sideways on him. We shared a soft kiss then as I pulled away; I noticed a smile playing on his lips.

"I wanted to say goodbye before I do," I said, fingers toying with the silver chain that hung around his neck.

His long fingers grazed over my thighs. "You don't want to come out with us tonight?"

"It sounds like fun but I want to be home when my mom wakes up so I can spend some time with her."

It was just after eleven in the evening and Lana texted me a few hours ago to let me know my mom had a good night and was asleep in bed. I thought about going out with them but truthfully; I was exhausted and couldn't wait to sleep in my bed even if it was for one night.

"Maybe we can grab dinner before the show tomorrow," he suggested with hopeful eyes.

I nodded. "I'd like that."

Noah patted my thigh to have me stand up and when I did he followed while linking our fingers together. "I'm going to walk her to her car then we can head out."

Jolly nodded, and bidding him and Bryan goodnight, I let Noah walked me out of the venue and to my car in the parking lot. Our hands swung together and every so often, Noah's thumb would brush over mine, the gentle touch warming me.

"Let me know when you're home?" Noah asked when we came to a stop in front of my car.

"Only if you do the same," I shot back with a playful smile.

Noah wrapped his arms around me so he could pull me into his chest, his lips dropping to meet mine in a kiss that started as slow but when my hands grabbed a fistful of his shirt, I forced my tongue into his mouth. He moaned into the kiss and I felt myself being guided backwards until my back hit the cold metal of my car.

"Angel," Noah hissed when my nails scrapped underneath his shirt, over his stomach.

I rutted my hips up into his, needing that same friction from earlier. When his thigh pushed my legs apart so I could rub my core against it, my head fell back onto my car as the ecstasy filled me like a high. Noah pressed his thigh into me harder when his hands gripped me hips, guiding me over him. Just like that night in the Airbnb.

My insides ignited as an orgasm began to slowly build. The taste of it was sweet on my tongue as I devoured Noah's mouth. I was a woman starved and the only way to fill that hunger was to feast on him, in every way.

"Noah," I broke the kiss reluctantly so I could look into his eyes.

They were blow wide with lust and as much as I wanted this to continue; I knew I had to get back home to let Lana leave.

With one final hard kiss, I gently pushed Noah away, him whining in protest.

"I have to go," I whispered, voice laced with arousal.

Noah brought my hand to his mouth, leaving a few kisses across my knuckles. "I'll call you?"

"You better," I pecked his lips before sliding into my car.

Through the rearview mirror, I noticed he watched me the entire time I drove through the lot until I turned left, disappearing from his line of sight. The drive home was quick thanks to not having many people driving and as I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the kitchen light was one.

"Lana?" I called out while stepping through the threshold.

I left my bags near the front door since I would need them tomorrow and walked into the kitchen, seeing Lana drinking a cup of tea. Her grey hair was falling out of his perfect high bun and the lines in her forehead were creased tight, the darkness of the bags under her eyes made me realize she was exhausted.

"Go home, Lana," I took the empty mug from her and helped her out of the chair. "Enjoy the day off tomorrow. I'll have a neighbor watch my mom tomorrow night so you don't have to worry about coming back until the following morning."

She hesitated while grabbing her jacket. "Are you sure, dear?"

"Yes," I nodded firmly. "You deserve it. I'll call you tomorrow."

I walked her to the door, and we bid goodnight with a hug and I watched until she made it safely to her car before shutting the door and locking it. With all the lights shut off downstairs, I slowly climbed the stairs as a loud yawn fell from my lips and after peaking on my mom seeing she was fast asleep, I entered my room. It looked exactly the same way I left it weeks ago.

As I fell into bed, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Make it home, angel? -Noah.

Seeing his name grace my screen my heart flutter as I typed out a reply.

Yea. I'm about to pass out so I'll talk to you in the morning. Be safe and have fun tonight. Don't let too many girls flirt with you.

I sent another text with the emoji sticking its tongue out, letting Noah know I was kidding.

Mostly.

Noah's response was immediate, but I didn't see it until way later after I was retreating from the bathroom, freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas.

You're the only one for me. Sweet dreams. I'll let you know when I'm back home so you don't worry.

With a smile covering my entire face and heart swarming with butterflies, I snuggled closer into the familiar bed and let the exhaustion of the day carry me into the darkness.

Burning eyes filled with unfamiliarity but hatred. Anger radiating like an aura in the room. Deep shallow breaths fanning over my exposed skin. Muttering voices chanting something over and over.

Was this a dream?

It had to be.

But why did this dark presence looming over me with vacant eyes feel so real?

My body jerked awake with a start as the chanting became louder, more persistent.

"Get out! Get out! Get out!

Glass shattered next to me and I scrambled out of bed just intime for a bat to be swung at my head, nearly missing me and instead hitting the wall behind my bed. The noise of drywall splitting sounded in my room and I stumbled to my knees on the bed as I tried to gain my barrings. I was still in my room and it was the middle of the night, the soft hue of the moon breaking though my curtains, and glass lamp that was on my bedside table lay on the ground in a shattered mess.

"What the fuck," I cursed, ice cold fear filling my veins.

My mom stood at the edge of my bed with a death grip on a metal bat that she swung wildly again at me, this one I didn't get out of the way fast enough. It hit me in the knee causing me to tumble to the ground below.

I hissed out in pain, tears spilling from my eyes as I clutched my knee.

"Get out of my house!" My mom screamed as if she was possessed. "This is my house! You don't belong here!"

She made her way towards me again, ready to swing the bat for a third time, however this time I was ready; not much faster because of my shattered knee, but I could still scramble out of the way. I dragged my leg behind me as I rolled over the bed while my mom jumped over it.

"Mom, its me!" I cried. "Y/N, your daughter!"

My mom shook her head wildly. "I don't have a daughter. I have a son and his name is James."

I blinked, standing frozen in front of her. While she constantly forgot who I was, she mentioned nothing about having any other kids. As far as I knew, I was an only child.

Maybe her brain was so far gone that she was making up lives now?

"There is no James!" I yelled. "It's just me; Y/N!"

My anger and hysteria probably wasn't helping during her manic episode but my knee had doubled in size because of the smack from the bat and right now, I wasn't thinking clearly.

"NO!"

My mothers scream bounced off the walls as she began destroying almost everything in my room with the bat; pictures on the wall, the window, the mirror, my old computer, and television. Glass rained down around me as I slunk up against the wall, tears flowing from my eyes down to the floor as the sounds of destruction drowned my sobs out. I covered my ears with my hands as I slide down along the wall, hoping that maybe this was a dream and I'd wake up any second.

I'd never seen my mom like this and Lana mentioned nothing like this. As far as we knew, as long as my mom took her medication, she wouldn't have these episodes. And Lana was sure my mom was taking them.

"M-mo-mo-." I choked out, scratching at the skin of her wrists.

She somehow pinned me to the ground, her hands wrapped tightly around my throat while I fought underneath her. My mom was typically a small women and any other moment I'd be able to overpower her but because of her episode, it was as if she gained super human strength.

Wild eyes stared down at me, death the only thing I could see behind them and as my vision blurred around the edges, I felt my fight give way. Everything in me fading back to the darkness but this time, I was afraid I'd might not wake.

I tried once more to claw at my mom to get her off but that must have angered her more because teeth bit down on the skin of my neck and I screamed out in pain.

"You don't belong here! Get out before I call the cops!"

Nails scratched against my face as she slapped me, blood pooling into my mouth from the cut on my lip. I spat out the copper taste but all it did was dribble down my chin.

She reared her hand back to slap me again and using this small opening to my advantage; I rolled my hips up and around causing her to fall off of me. My feet did typical cartoon run in place as I climbed to my feet and ran as fast as I could to my bed where my phone lay.

My finger shook as I unlocked it but because of the tears, I could barley see the screen. Hearing loud noises coming from downstairs, I limped my way to the banister of the stairs and could see my mom trashing the house, screaming so many things that I couldn't tell what was real or not.

"I have a son, his name is James."

"Where's Lincoln? He'll know what to do. He can get this witch out of here."

"Get out! Get out! GET OUT!"

Who the fuck is Lincoln and James? My dad's name was John and as I thought, I was an only child.

Fearing for my life, I slid down each step on my ass since I couldn't bend my knee and as I did, I could feel blood trail down my neck from where my mom bit me and the split lip burned as my tears rolled over my face.

She was in the living room ripping apart pictures from the photo book on the coffee table and I couldn't be bothered to care that it was my baby book; I needed to get to the kitchen to hide the knives.

Once they were locked in the liquor cabinet, I let out a few deep, shaky breaths and wiped my face clean of any tears. My fingers still shook as they clicked on Noah's name, his number dialing immediately.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

Straight to voicemail so I tried again.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

I hung up before redialing only to be met with the same thing. Two more times and the same fucking thing.

"God damnit, Noah!" I cursed with a sob. "Why aren't you answering?!"

By now my mom had moved to the office off of the living room and was ripping apart the desk, papers flying about.

No other option left, I dialed Folio's number and crossed whatever part of my body I could that he would answer.

On the third ring, his sleepy voice brought me immediate ease.

"Lo'?"

"Folio!" I sobbed while clutching the phone. "Oh, fuck!"

My mom hurled a book towards my head, and I ducked behind the kitchen island, missing it.

"YN?" Folio's voice was more alert now hearing my sobs. "What's going on?"

I sniffled. "Where's Noah? His phone goes straight to voicemail."

There was rustling on Folio's end for a few seconds. "Bryan's. Noah had a few beers and didn't want to drive home. His phone must have died."

I banged my head against the cabinets behind me. "What the fuck."

"What's going on?" Folio asked again, this time more urgency in his voice. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head with fresh tears. "No, I need your help. Please, Folio. I can't stop her. She's going to destroy everything and hurt me."

"Who?!"

Sobs plowed through me as my shoulders shook. "My mom."

Folio cursed, and it sounded like he was getting dressed. "Let me call try calling Bryan to wake up Noah and he can.-"

"No!" I interrupted. "He's atleast thirty minutes away. You're staying at his and Jolly's place right?"

"Yeah."

"You're closer. Please Folio, I don't know who else to call," I screamed when my mom began throwing plates from the cabinets from the other side of the kitchen island. "Hurry!"

Before hanging up, I rambled off my address and Folio promised he would get to me as soon as he could. Once off the phone with him, I tried to call Noah again.

"Please pick up," I begged.

"Hey it's Noah. Leave me a-."

I screeched and threw my phone on the floor, it not breaking, at hearing his stupid fucking voicemail once again. This was exactly why I didn't want to tell him anything. The one time I really needed him, Noah wasn't there.

Did he even text me to check in after he left the bar?

Not caring at the moment, I gripped the counter and hauled myself to my feet. My knee was so swollen and the surrounding bruising looked nasty. It wasn't broken since I could put a little pressure on it but it was sure going to have some insane bruising for a while.

I noticed my mom was standing in the middle of the kitchen, still clutching that damn bat and covering the floor was various sizes of shards of glass. A loud hiss fell from my lips when a piece cut the sole of my foot.

"Mom?" I hesitated moving towards her. "Give me the bat."

Through the corner of my eyes, I could see the destruction she caused but couldn't dwell on it right now; I needed that fucking bat.

My mom gripped it tighter. "Who are you?"

The way my heart shattered, pieces falling to the pits of my stomach made a broken sob escape me. I was so tired of explaining who I was to her. With a quick glance to the kitchen table, I noticed Lana left her medical bag here and could faintly make out the small vial and syringe. She told me that medication was strictly for emergencies, and she would only use it for such.

Though, she wasn't here, and this was an emergency.

"Give me the bat," I tried again while extending a hand to her. "Please."

My mom's eyes darted to the bat then back to me before the metal clanged to the floor and I let out a breath of relief. She lowered herself into the one standing upright chair and using this as an opportunity; I ripped a piece of paper towel off the holder and pressed it to my bleeding neck, hissing in pain, not worrying about the one on my foot right now.

"Fuck," I cursed when I looked in a mirror that was hung on the opposite wall of the fridge.

The bite wasn't terrible but it would leave a mark. The bruising of fingers around my throat made me swear again under my breath. They were deep and purple already and knew that I would have to explain it to Noah.

Hell, I would have to explain this whole mess to Folio when he arrived.

Suddenly, there was pounding on the front door and when my mom made no move to answer, back into her catatonic vacant state, I dragged my foot behind me as I shuffled down the hallway to the front door. Immediately once it opened, Folio bounded inside ready to fight whoever was causing me harm until he looked around at the destruction then finally to me.

"Shit," he breathed while cupping my face. "Are you alright?"

"No," I cried while burying my face into his chest.

His large hand soothed my back as his soft voice hushed my cries. I stayed in his arms, shaking and crying, for a long while until there was no tears left and my breathing calmed. Folio then slowly pulled me away from his chest so he could look into my eyes.

"What happened here, Y/N?"

I stammered, not knowing where or how to start. Everything happened so fast that my brain was still trying to comprehend it all. However, before I could, I washed pushed to the side as my mom came barreling through the front entryway, hands wrapping around Folio's throat.

His eyes were wide as he watched me fall to the ground onto my bad knee and I bellowed out in pain. I bit down on the inside of my cheek so I didn't cry and pulled myself slowly to my feet. I was done crying; I needed to grow a fucking pair and deal with my mom; who currently was doing her best to choke Folio out.

"I told you not to come back here Jonathan! You're not welcome here. She's not yours anymore."

What the actual fuck?

My mom thought Folio was my father? Who's not his? And why wasn't my father welcomed home any more?

Too many questions, not enough time to deal.

"Mom, get off of him!" I tried to pry her off but like how it was on me, her grip was a death lock.

Folio stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Since he was stronger than me, he could handle my mom's weak hands around his throat. I glanced over to my shoulder into the kitchen where Lana's bag still sat and not giving it a second thought; I hobbled my way over to it and snatched the vial and syringe. Lana mentioned before that my mom needed little to knock her out so filling the syringe with what I'd assume was a good enough amount, I snuck up behind my mom. Just in time to see her remove her grip from Folio only to scratch down his neck. He hissed out a few curses while touching the fresh red marks.

"Lincoln told you to stay away from us! Y/N is not your daughter. Stay away!"

The needle pricked the skin of his neck, and I forced the liquid into her bloodstream. It was exactly like how it was in the movies. Two seconds of my mom's hand dropping away from Folio for her to turn around facing me was all it took before she fell to the ground in a heap.

Thankfully, Folio scooped her up at the last second before she hit.

"Can you legally administer that?" He asked with curious eyes.

I shrug and wipe the snot from my nose on the back of my hand; I must look a mess right now.

"I had no other choice. She wouldn't stop."

I followed his gaze from my mom to the stairs.

"Upstairs. Second bedroom on the left." I told him, finally taking a much needed breath of air.

While he took my mom back to her bedroom, I stood there like a deer in headlights as her last words replayed in my mind.

"Y/N's not your daughter!"

She thought Folio was my dad, or well who I thought was my dad. So if Johnathan wasn't my father, who was?

Lincoln?

"No," I muttered while shaking my head. "She made these people up in her mind. They don't exist."

If my dad wasn't actually my dad, they'd tell me.

Right?

"Y/N?"

I turned on my heels only to cry out in pain as it jerked my bad knee and I gripped the railing of the stairs so I could keep myself upright.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Folio carried me bridal style over to the couch and brushed away the torn pictures before setting me down. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Kitchen sink."

While he rummaged for it, I pulled out my phone to call Noah. This time it rang. And rang. And rang. Until his damn voicemail picked up.

Well, since it was ringing maybe he finally put it to charge.

I noticed I had an unread message from Noah just after two in the morning.

Angel, my phone is going to die. If you need anything, text Jolly. We're staying at Bryans. I'll call in the morning.

When I looked to the clock on my phone, my heart fell into my ass. It was almost six in the morning. How long had I been dealing with my mom before Folio came? How long had my mom been standing over my bed?

Shivering at the thought, I saw Folio return with the first aid kit in his hand. He sat on the coffee table in front of me and began working on cleaning the cut on my foot.

"Asshole," I spat when the peroxide touched my skin.

He chuckled before his usually happy face turned serious.

"What the fuck happened? And don't give me some bullshit excuse, Y/N. You cut your foot, your lip is busted, you've got a nasty bite mark on your neck. I don't even want to look at your knee because it looks fucked up."

My head fell, disappointment fleeting every other emotion in my body. He already knew something about my mom and now what he saw, I couldn't lie to Folio any more. So with a very deep breath, I told him everything. From the first few months after my moms diagnosis to Lana staying with her while I was on tour with him and the rest of the guys. I even talked about how I was struggling to pay Lana and the rest of my bills so I started an Only Fans page.

His gaze lifted from cleaning the wound on my neck to my eyes as I kept them straight ahead. My cheeks burned with shyness, knowing that he understood finally why I had nudes on my phone.

"That's why you had the nudes on your phone?" He asked, shocked.

I shrugged. "It was the only way I could think to make extra money. This was before the promotion but even then, it wasn't enough."

Folio tossed the soaked cotton of peroxide into the pile with the rest of them then taped a small piece of gauze on my neck. As he sat farther back on the table, he softly lifted my bad knee into his lap so he could look at it. I was wearing my cotton pajama shorts, so it was easy for him to see.

"Does Noah know?"

"No. He doesn't know any of this. Not about my mom or the Only Fans. It's bad enough that I'm posting pictures of myself naked when we're somewhat dating. He'd be so hurt if he found out."

Folio hummed under his breath. "You need to give Noah more credit. He wouldn't force you to stop something unless you wanted too. And he'd be by your side helping you deal with your mom."

I snorted. "Right. Then how come he isn't here?"

Folio gave me a look that screamed 'don't pull that shit' and I slunk back into the couch suddenly feeling terrible for blaming Noah for something that technically wasn't his fault. He texted me when he got back to Bryan's and let me know his phone died.

But how could he not hear the constant ringing of his phone?

"Well," Folio's soft voice brought me back from my thoughts. "I don't think it's broken since you can bend it but I'm still going to wrap it, so you don't strain it even more."

I nodded and let him work on wrapping my knee, still trying to understand everything that happened.

Was what my mom said the truth or all lies? If it was the truth, how could she remember that but now who I was?

Once he finished, Folio gently set my leg down and pressed a finger to the two scratches on his neck.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, guilt lacing my voice.

He waved me off. "It's alright. I'll be fine."

"I should clean it," I offered.

Again, Folio waved me off. "You need to rest that knee. Sit back and I'll make you something to eat before I get started cleaning up."

That made me sit up with a start before letting out a groan of pain.

"You're not cleaning this up, Folio. You should go back and get some sleep. Don't you have to be at the venue by noon for sound check?"

He forced me to lie down on the couch and dropped a blanket over me. "I'll be fine, Y/N. I'll pound a few coffees then a few beers and be good to go."

I didn't laugh or even chuckle as he disappeared into the kitchen for some time. This was not his mess to clean up but the fact that he will without a second thought made me realize how great of a friend he'd become.

"I think maybe you should stay home tonight. You shouldn't be jumping around on stage taking pictures." Folio came back into the living room with a tray that had a steaming cup of coffee and a plate full of eggs and toast.

I thanked him with a greedy smile and took a long sip of the coffee, almost moaning in delight at the richness of it.

"To be honest, I think it's best that I leave the house before my mom wakes up. Clearly me being around isn't helping her," I said with a sad smile.

Folio left a kiss to the top of my head. "It'll all work out. Are you going to tell Noah?"

I thought about his question for a long moment, eyes staring down at my phone hoping he would call.

"I-uh-I think it's best that I focus all my time with getting my mom the help she needs. A relationship would only complicate it."

"Knock knock!" A voice called out.

Mine and Folio's heads snapped over to the front door as Lana stepped through the doorway.

"Dear, I forgot my medical bag so I-."

Lana's voice died off when she took in the mess of the house then when she saw me laying on the couch bandaged up, she scurried over to me in a panic.

"What happened?!" She demanded. "Who did this to you?!"

Her gaze snapped over to Folio when she noticed him standing there and eyed the marks on his neck with a curious eye.

"Okay, I know you kids nowadays are into some pretty rough sex but this is ridiculous," Lana pointed at me.

Seeing Folio blush was undoubtedly the cutest fucking thing but I couldn't enjoy it, even though my own cheeks burned, because I needed to tell Lana the truth.

"Lana, this is Nick Folio. He's the drummer for Bad Omens," I introduced the two.

Her blue eyes sparkled. "Ah yes. He works with Mr. Sebastian."

Folio chuckled. "It's nice to meet you. I'll let you two catch up while I bring some more coffee."

After he was out of earshot, Lana sat on the couch next to me and took hold of my hand.

"He's very cute, dear." She winked.

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. "He's just a friend, Lana. A really good friend that I could count on when I needed someone."

Unlike someone else.

"What happened to the house?"

With a firm squeeze of a hand, I forced myself to utter the words I never wanted to say.

"We need to talk about putting my mom in a facility."

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[fatallyfalling]

Strawberry Wine ~ 𖤓

“ safe & sound “

{{ Peeta Mellark Headcanons }}

warnings: mentions of alcohol, canon Hunger Games violence/trauma, wholesome fluff, etc.

{{ word count }} 487

{{ prompt }} fluffy headcanons for our beloved bread boy !!

{{ a/n }} this is short & sweet while i test out Peeta’s character! I’m not sure what i exactly want to write with him since i’ve adored everlark for forever but for now please enjoy my silly happy thoughts! Some of these i’ve heard around the internet i think but i can’t remember where :[

Peeta Mellark, the ashy blonde from District 12 who stole the hearts of the Capital with his charms and sweet, boyish nature while also managing to tame a stubborn Mockingjay - Katniss Everdeen, and poured out his heart and soul to get back to her any way he could.

- Peeta is a morning person. He'll get up early and have breakfast ready by the time Katniss pulls out of bed (she learns to sleep in post-rebellion).

- His favorite type of bread/pastry is croissants. The tedious labor of laminating the cold butter block into the fluffy dough is cathartic in a way.

- Once, he tried to teach Katniss to paint. Once. Her attempt at trees looked more like crazy brown and green spiders but he still kissed her temple and had the painting framed, much to the girl on fire's dismay.

- Peeta doesn't like hard liquor - he never did. Effie hooks him on a strawberry wine made special in what used to be District 11, he's gifted at least one bottle every birthday or holiday.

- He's such a housewife no questions asked, hands down. Hungry? He'll cook. Thirsty? Anything you want. This man has to be physically removed from the kitchen during friendly gatherings so he can actually relax and enjoy the company.

- Also, his Dad lore is insane.

(speaking to his kids when they're older) "Oh yeah, your Mom tried to kill me once. but it's okay I made it even the next year so we're good now."

"One time I almost got eaten by a monkey in a fight to the death."

"Another time I took a spontaneous road trip, got held hostage, and then led a rebellion to victory alongside your Mom."

- Peeta teaches himself guitar so he can play along while Katniss sings. His chords are wildly out of tune at first, but he gets it eventually.

- Peeta doesn't like store-bought bread, saying his homemade loaves taste better (they do).

- He's a hugger, every hello and goodbye is met by a bear hug. His hugs are amazing as well, nice and tight but also comforting and warm.

- For a while after the war Peeta kept a journal on his nightstand to record his dreams/nightmares. Even if the text turns out to be chicken scratch in the morning Katniss still helps him decipher and work through it to solidify reality.

“What does that say ?”

“Uh… I think… no - wait, I have no idea,”

- Effie and Peeta definitely have wine nights to talk about their scary guard dog partners and how much they love them.

- Speaking of paint - it’s everywhere, all the time, mainly his hands. Oil paint is next to impossible to clean so almost all of Peeta’s shirts have some amount of color speckled on the sleeves or the thighs of his pants.

- Peeta also keeps a cookie jar of homemade cookies in the kitchen, they’re replenished every week with regular flavor swaps.

{{ tags }}

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta imagine #peeta mellark #peeta mellark oneshot #thg imagine #thg headcanons #thg fic #thg #thg series #thg peeta #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games #the hunger games peeta #the hunger games katniss #katniss everdeen #katniss and peeta #thg katniss #everlark #everlark headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #peeta x reader

[cyberstrm]

4:07 am

remus lupin x gn!reader

cws: consensual age gap, reader was formally remus's student but nothing inappropriate happened during that time, smoking, swearing

you took a long drag from your cigarette as you gazed into the black sky. leaning out of a cramped, 3rd floor corridor window was not the most glamorous way of smoking, but you were so desperate you didn't care.

as much as you valued being in the order of the phoenix, the current headquarters (the house formally owned by the blacks) was a fucking nightmare. it reeked of death and woodworms, and there were creatures of all shapes and sizes hiding in crevices and cupboards. it was only just liveable and you'd been stuck living here here for weeks, but at least you could leave when you wanted to, unlike poor sirius.

offering to stay and help clean up headquarters over the summer seemed simple enough at the time, but it was hard work. when the kids went back to school, you'd go proper househunting. you'd graduated from hogwarts only this year, and needed somewhere to crash, so in exchange for a free room and food on the table, you'd agreed to help make the black house fit for living.

mrs weasley did not approve of your smoking habits, hence the uncomfortable leaning out of the window. besides, it was too late (or rather, early in the morning) to go outside.

"care to spare one?"

you jumped, hitting your head on the window.

"ow! fuck!"

you pulled out, still holding a half-finished cigarette, panting. remus lupin stood in front of you, his face apologetic. he was wearing brown cords and a baggy, sage green button up that was half untucked, and mismatched socks.

"apologies, y/n. didn't mean to startle you."

"cough next time or something, merlin." you placed a hand on your heart dramatically and fumbled with your packet of fags. "we won't both fit out the window so we'll just have to sit and smoke vaguely in the vicinity."

remus laughed and took the cigarette, his fingertips brushing yours. he sat opposite you on the stairwell, lazily using his wand to light his cigarette.

"didn't take you for a smoker." you said, after exhaling deeply.

"yes, well. you're not exactly the smoker type either." he replied, taking a long drag with a grateful expression.

"excuse me, the last time you saw me i had shitty box-dyed hair and a nose stud. I'm definitely the smoker type." you said in mock defence, referencing the year that remus had taught your defence against the dark arts lessons.

he chuckled, nodding. "that's true. you did look very different back then."

"man, i miss your classes. they were so chill. sorry i was always a nightmare and never handed in homework."

"i had worse students." he smirked, and you smacked him playfully. you both laughed.

you hadn't felt this relaxed in a while. after everything that happened last year, you'd felt wild and panicked for almost every waking moment. you believed harry, of course you did, and being close with the weasley's meant you knew all about the order, and joined as soon as you left school. maybe it would've been better if you didn't believe harry. you wouldn't feel so...panicked all the time. but you did, so that was that.

"what are you doing up so early anyway?" you asked, checking your watch and feeling a pang of guilt at the little '4:07' staring up at you.

remus nodded at the window. you looked up and saw the almost full moon.

"i can never sleep in the days beforehand."

"oooh." you replied in understanding. "i'm....i'm sorry you had to leave hogwarts because of it. that fucking sucked."

"i'm used to it." he shrugged.

"anytime you need cigs, i'm your person. any time. for free. no charge. it's the least i can do, like honestly i wouldn't have passed DADA if it weren't for you."

"i'll hold you to that." he grinned.

he gazed out the window, his eyes glazed and unfocused. he looked exhausted, but he wore it well. you supposed that was because he was rarely anything but. he looked soft, blurry around the edges, like a mirage, or as if he were painted with watercolour.

"d'you wanna know something kinda funny."

don't say it.

"mm?"

don't say it.

"i kinda..."

you're going to embarrass yourself.

"i used to have the biggest crush on you when you were at hogwarts."

remus didn't say anything, but smiled humbly.

"i get that a lot, actually."

"really?"

"you sound surprised." he grinned.

"what? no- i just mean...who will i have to battle for your heart?"

he laughed, and you found your face was growing warm. you don't know why you'd told him, it was very spur of the moment, but you were glad you did. it was nice to see him properly laugh.

"things have changed so much." you muttered, getting to the end of your cig. "i changed so much. probably for the better."

"things have changed- are changing." he agreed. "but i do hope you didn't stop liking me."

you properly blushed this time. "you mean that?"

he gazed at you, and leant forward to stub out his cigarette on the windowsill. he didn't lean back. his eyes were on you, full of something you'd never seen before. not lust, more like-

but before you could think of what it was more like, he pressed his lips to yours gently. his facial hair was rough against your skin as he kissed you deeper, his hand cupping your cheek.

he pulled away, still holding your face.

"was that...okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at your flustered face.

"y-yeah....but....maybe we should go somewhere more private." you chuckled, gesturing to the fact you were both slumped on the stairwell floor.

"good idea, hun." he pecked your lips. he stood up and helped you to your feet.

"my room?" you asked, kissing his scarred cheek.

"desperate for more, hm?" he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist. he kissed you again softly.

"you know it, old man."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #x reader #x you #x y/n #x gender neutral reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n

[delimeful]

let my mind reset (6)

warnings: angst, brainwashing, torture, psychological conditioning, references to injury/gore/death, harmful surgical implants, they are really going through it now, lmk if i missed any

-

Where the hours had passed slowly before, now they seemed to slip by all too fast. Every spare moment Roman had was spent in anxious anticipation of the next session and all that came with it.

He had never seen something like the haze used on a person before. Crav’n were invulnerable to it, and he’d only ever witnessed his aunt use it briefly on one of the local fauna once, a harmless and finicky tree-dwelling species about the size of his hand.

(Roman remembered the way Marta had compelled the little creature to pace back and forth, from place to place, wearing its will away until there wasn’t any hesitation between order and action. Then, she’d sent it walking into the nearby pond.

He remembered the way its survival instinct had set in late, the way it began to thrash, and still Marta didn’t call it back. He remembered feeling relieved when his mother stepped in and put a stop to the demonstration, scooping the poor beast from its fate with disapproval etched firmly in the set of her shoulders.

He didn’t remember if the creature had lived through the withdrawal, afterwards.)

Virgil was far from a simple animal, though, and despite Roman’s half-formed nightmares, he didn’t mindlessly succumb to the influence of the drug the first time it was forced on him, nor the second or the third.

In fact, every time the other Humans entered his cell with that unsettling green canister, he seemed just as panicked as Roman, if not more, putting up as much of a fight as he could with a battered body and a wrung out mind. No matter how they tutted or scolded, the other Humans still couldn’t get the mask on him until Roux had him forcibly subdued, which was a tiny victory in itself.

That didn’t stop the drug from taking its toll each and every time.

As horrible as it sounded, the worst part was that the effects weren't painful or malicious in nature. At least that would have been easier to fight against; a logical, instinctive response to being hurt.

No, it was far more insidious than that. The haze dulled pain. First, the physical: it eased away the stiffness of sore muscles and the burning of shocked nerves, leaving only a pleasant numbness behind. Then, the mental: it stalled the production of stressful chemical compounds, replacing them with whatever was needed to trick the victim’s mind into believing they were happy, relaxed, pliable.

Roman had never seen Virgil so unwound, so carefree, and he hated how unnatural the behavior seemed on the Human. It was a miserable experience, finally seeing him without the hunted slant to his posture, and feeling sickened by the sight.

What was worse was watching it wear off.

As though a switch had been thrown in reverse, Virgil would be plagued by a creeping, unrelenting sense of panic and dread, pacing around his cell frantically until a sudden hypersensitivity to touch left him crumpled in one spot, breathing harsh and pained.

Time after time, he was shown exactly how painful withdrawal from even a few doses was, until he was left bracing for it well before the next session had even begun.

“The last guys who had me would have killed for something like this,” Virgil said, nearly panting as he laid out on his back. He had his fingers pressed against his neck, feeling his pulse. His heart was racing so hard that Roman could see the veins pulsing eerily under the skin. A heavy spike of adrenaline, unprompted by anything tangible. “Bet she has at least a few people stashed away just to drain for easy cash.”

He spoke more, like this. Out of turn, about topics that were morbid and pessimistic, as though the thoughts were tumbling free of his mind without his permission. Roman never let his negative reactions to the more grim topics go beyond his ears flickering back; it wasn’t like he had the room or right to judge. They didn’t have very many reasons to be optimistic. Besides, he’d realized early on that the more worked up Roman got, the worse Virgil got in turn.

He still didn’t know the exact details of how Dren harvesting worked, and he was fairly sure he was better off for it. The very idea of setting an entire person aside for something like that was reprehensible, and therefore entirely possible for Marta.

“She said she… she gets rid of Humans that don’t break,” he replied after a moment, the words tumbling freely from him for once. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to turn a profit from it.”

He’d been trying to match the distant, dry tone Virgil had used, but he must have missed the mark, because the Human stiffened, and drew his hand back from Roman’s grasp to press it harshly against his eyes.

Belatedly, Roman realized what he’d just implied. Virgil was one of those Humans trying not to break, was at this very moment barely clinging to his composure, and he’d just been informed he was stuck between two horrific fates worse than death. “I didn’t mean—,”

“‘S alright,” Virgil interrupted, voice rough with exhaustion. “It’s not like I didn’t know. It makes me feel a little better, honestly.”

Roman stared at him, bewildered and still slightly aghast at his own stupidity, and Virgil shifted a few fingers to peer back with one eye.

“At least some Humans didn’t fall for it, y’know? At least some of them got out in their own way,” he continued, a thin thread of hopelessness tangled up in the words. “I was starting to wonder if the rest of space was right. If we were all just destined to be monsters with the right motivation.”

Roman should have been more alarmed at the implication that Virgil felt close to succumbing, that he was nearer than he’d ever wanted to be to a Human on the brink of falling under someone else’s blatantly malignant control, but all he could feel was a painful sympathy.

“You’re not a monster,” he said, and then, more firmly— “Humans aren’t monsters.”

Virgil’s eye widened slightly, gaze intent in a way that would have made Roman bristle in the past.

“They’re just people. They can do good or bad, just like anyone else. And sure, these guys are— they’re not doing good.” A pause, and Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s stare. “But you have. You saved Patton, and you tried to save me, and you’re— you’re not a monster. You’re a good friend.”

Virgil buried his face back in his elbow and was quiet for a long moment.

“…You’re not so bad yourself.”

—

Roman hadn’t expected Marta to show up in person, not with how much she had delegated to her brainwashed underlings thus far, but arrive she did.

“Don’t fret, ghiva’al,” she crooned to him, passing by his cell with the lightest clink of her claws dragged against the bars. “I’m here to meet your little pet, not you.”

“Don’t—,” call me that, call him that, he wanted to snarl, but his throat closed up so sharply that it sounded a little like he’d choked.

Marta made her stilted croaking laugh, sparing him a glance that might have been pitying if it had bothered to reach her cold, empty eyes. “You always did struggle with words when emotional, didn’t you? Not nearly as well spoken as your mother. What a shame to see that hasn’t changed.”

There was a sharp clacking as an aggressive shudder ran through Roman’s scales, but he still couldn’t find his voice. Not even when Marta moved on to grip the bars of Virgil’s cell, her attention shifting to the Human where he stood warily in the center of the cage.

Roman had learned more than he’d ever thought he would about Human body language over the past few weeks. He knew from the slight sway to Virgil’s every shift that the Human was drained, likely barely keeping his feet.

Still, he was upright to face Marta, his height advantage allowing him to look down at her, and that was better than being crumpled on the ground at her feet. Little victories were all they had now, and they clung to each and every one.

Roux wasn’t there, Roman realized with a jolt, and the knowledge was enough to drag his mind into overdrive, a sudden double-edged hope springing to life in his chest.

Virgil must have already realized, because the way he held himself shifted into something taut and coiled, like he was preparing to lunge forward at the first opportunity, weak or not.

“Back of the cell,” Marta commanded, voice turned brisk and blunt in a way it hadn’t been with Roman. Like she was speaking to a beast instead of a person.

Virgil didn’t move, barely deigned to acknowledge the words beyond a brief flicker of his pupils upwards.

Marta waited, letting the silence stretch for a brief moment, and then clicked her teeth together in a mild reprimand. “The hard way, then.”

Despite her apparent annoyance, the words held a sort of anticipatory delight, and Roman felt the thick tar of dread slide under his scales as he watched her slide a small, triangular remote from a pouch at her side.

When she pressed the button in the center of it, she was looking at Roman.

It was Virgil who went rigid and fell.

Despite knowing it would undercut every lie he’d tried to sell about how little he cared, despite the fact that he was playing right into her claws, Roman couldn’t help but rush to the bars separating them, a shout of horror catching in his chest.

The Human hit the ground hard but stayed chillingly frozen, with every muscle locked into hard lines. He didn’t make a sound until Marta shifted her thumb away from the button, the motion somehow allowing him to finally go limp like a puppet with strings cut.

“Virgil!” Roman managed, though the sound of it was nearly lost in the sudden loudness of the Human’s gasping breaths. He hadn’t been breathing before, Roman realized with a terrified shock.

Whatever Marta was doing, it hadn’t countered Virgil’s natural stubbornness, and he climbed back to his feet with less staggering than Roman would have expected.

His gaze caught on the tremor to Virgil’s hands, the shuddering of his pulse, and he understood. Adrenaline.

The fight or flight instinct, Virgil had called it while talking with Patton. Roman had seen him choose to fight once, at their very first meeting, but even that couldn’t compare to the speed and ferocity of the way the Human lunged now.

Marta didn’t flinch back when he made loud, skull-rattling contact with the bars, but she didn’t blink, either, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Virgil as she pressed the button once more.

Instead of letting him drop, however, she reached out and seized him by the face, claws digging in on either cheek and holding tightly.

Virgil couldn’t so much as flinch away from the pain, and Roman slammed his arm against the door of his own cell with force, furious at his own helplessness.

Marta released the trigger again, and this time, every gasping inhale Virgil took was dosed with her haze. He tried to jerk back, but it was far faster acting straight from the source, and he had barely a moment before his expression dropped to something hollow and smooth, his desperate strength wavering and then extinguishing like a flame with nothing left to burn.

“Down,” Marta commanded, releasing her grip, and Virgil stood in place for a few long heartbeats before his legs collapsed underneath him.

She waved a hand absently down at him, still scattering her haze thick in the air. “There you go. It feels so much better when you listen, doesn’t it?”

Virgil twitched, a ripple of discontent crossing his face, but didn’t respond. He was shaking relentlessly now, his entire body trembling in a way that had Roman deeply concerned.

“You’re safe with me,” Marta lied, reaching down to glide the palm of her hand over the side of Virgil’s face. “You’re only safe with me. Everyone else wants to hurt you, but I’ll make the pain go away. Always do as I say, okay?”

Virgil didn’t move away, even as her rough skin caught on the wounds her claws had left only moments ago. His breathing grew wispier, slower, until he appeared almost calm, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Let’s try this again,” Marta straightened, and when her hand left Virgil’s cheek, he strained after it for a handful of seconds. “Back of the cell.”

Virgil climbed back to his feet, and Roman closed his eyes as the Human quietly began shuffling across his stretch of cell. He felt all of six winters old again, watching his aunt lead something fuzzy and helpless back and forth, closer and closer to the water’s edge.

“Good. Now, heel.” More shuffling, wordless as a corpse.

How long did he have before Virgil took his own plunge?

—

It took longer than before for Virgil to regain coherence, afterwards.

Roman knew the moment he’d come back to himself, because the soft grip around his hand had instantly vanished, yanked away so sharply that he’d barely registered the movement before Virgil was up on his feet and backing away.

“Virgil,” he tried, and the Human shook his head, the motion harsh, his hands lifting up to grip roughly at his hair in a distressed motion Roman had only ever caught glimpses of back on the ship.

He’d continued to retreat until he hit the furthest corner of the cell, where he slid down and curled in on himself, utterly unreceptive to any of Roman’s stilted calls. Roman caught his expression crumpling into a miserable grimace before he buried his face in his knees and hid that away too.

The silence stretched.

If there were some right words to say here, Roman couldn’t find them. Even if he did, he undoubtedly wouldn’t be able to say them. The helplessness sheared against his scales like rough sand, but how could he allow himself to wallow in it when he at least still had his mind, his existence still unarguably his own?

Freshly taunted by the knowledge that he didn’t have even that much, Virgil remained still and taut and quiet in the furthest reaches of his cell for what felt like a very long time.

When he did finally stir, Roman was appalled to see the faint streaks on his face where his tears had washed away the sweat and grime.

Patton had described Human weeping as arrhythmic vocalizations, much like Ampens, but with a physical manifestation as well. Roman hadn’t known that Humans could cry silently, like a pup gone still and quiet in the face of danger, with only the barest hitching of breath to indicate distress.

The expression on Virgil now was creased into firm lines, but it didn’t seem agonized or crumbling at the edges. Rather, as he climbed to his face, he seemed to hold the same bitter resolution Roman had seen in him a few times before: during the tail end of their first meeting, and after the fight with the raiders, both times when he’d thought he was about to be left alone again.

“Roman,” he started, and then worked his jaw tersely, once, twice. Rather than continue, he held out a hand, palm-up in silent offering.

Things had changed a lot over the course of their captivity, Roman reflected as he reached out and set his own hand in the Human’s grasp with barely a shred of hesitation. It felt like second nature by now, to reach out and cling on whenever his stomach was roiling with stress.

Virgil watched him for a moment longer, and then wrapped his fingers around Roman’s hand and drew closer, slowly pulling his arm up until he had positioned Roman’s claws just above the skin of his neck.

“This,” Virgil said, each word resolute, “is the best place to sever if you want to kill a Human quickly.”

The words took a dull, ringing moment to sink in, but once they did, Roman jerked back sharply. “Virgil, what—?”

For the first time, Virgil held on, keeping his hand pinned in place with ease even as he had to grip the bars with his other hand to remain upright. Roman could see the way the Human’s pulse fluttered under the skin, a heartbeat racing visibly exactly where Virgil had indicated.

“It’s important. You need to know,” Virgil insisted, and lifted their joined hands higher, to his temple. “Head wounds bleed a lot. Gashes up here are valuable because the blood runs down and drips into their eyes, which will work pretty well as a distraction—,”

“Stop it!” Roman demanded, yanking harder as his panic increased. “I’m not going to— stop talking like that! I don’t need to know how to hurt you!”

At the start of their voyage, Roman would have done just about anything for information like this, anything to feel safe on his own ship again. So why was he learning it only now, when each word and accompanying gesture made him feel ill and rotted down to the tip of his tail?

“It’s not— Roman, it’s not about me,” Virgil said, frustration seeping into his voice. He let Roman drag his hand away from his face, but still didn’t let go. “It’s about them.”

Roman wasn’t sure he believed that. “I don’t need to kill anyone. They’re brainwashed, this is Marta’s fault! I know the truth, now.”

Virgil shook his head, ghosted the fingers of his free hand over his implant scar with a distant, sickened expression. “It’s not that simple. I don’t want guilt to be the reason— Look. If it’s them or you, I want it to be you. I want you to make sure it’s you.”

And what if it's me or you? Roman thought, but the words lodged firmly in his chest until he could barely breathe around them.

“They all made their choice,” Virgil continued once it became clear that Roman wouldn’t respond. “They’ve kept making that choice, every time. You have to want to survive, too, okay?”

Mutely, Roman nodded, trying to ignore the creeping sense of horror. He pulled Virgil’s hand back towards himself, fumbled for speech for a long moment before finding the words and hoping they didn’t feel like a betrayal when spoken aloud.

“The underbelly,” he started, and Virgil’s expression— shut down. Every hint of body language went flat like stone, and just as unyielding.

“No.” The word was final, a sentence all its own, and Roman scowled mulishly.

“But—!”

“Roman.” Virgil lifted his other arm over so that he was clasping Roman’s hand between both of his own. “You’re the only one left, right? You told me that.”

The thought was still a wound-like pang in his chest, even after all this time. “Yes,” he admitted. “But, even still—,”

“No way. I don’t want to hear it, man. There’s nobody I would be willing to use it on, anyhow.” Virgil kept his gaze locked firmly on a point past Roman’s shoulder, but his shoulders were set, his voice steadfast.

There was no point arguing. Not now, when the both of them were one wrong move from collapse.

“Okay,” Roman finally said, and forced himself not to protest when Virgil reclaimed the position of lecturer. It was a struggle not to wince away with each gory anecdote, a full guide on the quickest ways to make the Human body stop functioning or even turn on itself.

“Gut wounds are slow to kill, but they can be painful enough to debilitate. There are vulnerable organs here, below the rib cage, and damage to them is difficult to treat without surgery if the wound is severe enough…”

Still, he held himself at attention, did his best to memorize every word.

If Virgil wouldn’t accept knowledge about Roman’s own vulnerabilities as a gift of equal exchange, Roman would simply have to treasure this information with the same dedication that he applied to the rest of their small crew.

After all, knowing all the individual weak points of a Human would make it that much easier for him to protect each and every single part of Virgil.

Virgil wasn’t going to die. Not here, and certainly not by Roman’s own claws. Not if Roman had anything to say about it.

#sanders sides fic #wibar #lmmr #let my mind reset #ts virgil #ts roman #humans are deathworlders #my writing #writing #sanders sides #space au

[widowbitessting]

what about is Reader has a nightmare? What would the trio! do?

The Coffee Incident

Wanda/Natasha/CarolxReader

Word Count - 1674

You jolt awake, still half asleep as the remnants of the nightmare still play on your mind.

You struggle free from the blankets enclosing you.

It's wrapped too tightly around your legs, feeling more like claustrophobic ropes bound to cut off circulation than a cheap duvet from Target, and you frantically kick yourself free; trembling body toppling out of your single bed.

You’re panting, breathing deep despite your lungs struggling to fill with oxygen.

You find yourself on the precipice of a panic attack and you’re frantic to bring yourself down.

“A dream…” you croak out, “it was just a dream.”

But your brain can’t stop replaying it on a loop in your mind and the panic is quick to consume you.

"MJ." You croak out, forgetting that she's spending the night at Peter's.

Fresh hot tears spill from your eyes and down your cheeks and you frantically grab for your cell through blurred vision.

You need them.

Struggling to open your phone, you lose your temper quicker than normal and end up biting into your palm to stifle a frustrated scream.

You have to put in your passcode, twice to be exact, until you're able to get to your contacts.

Clicking the first name in your recents, you pray that they pick up.

Blood is thundering around your ears as your phone rings.

Legs bouncing anxiously as you rest your forehead down on your knee.

"Please...please...please..."

A sleepy voice picks up.

"...hullo?"

"Nat?"

You can hear shuffling on her side before she replies, sounding more awake than she did when she first picked up the call.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears trickle down your face, the taste of salt seeping onto your tongue.

"I - I..."

You crumble and let out a sob.

"Y/N, baby, where are you?" Natasha asks.

You can hear another voice in the background, asking Natasha if everything is okay.

"Ho-home."

"Are you hurt, baby girl?" Natasha asks. She says something else but it's aimed at either Carol or Wanda and you miss it.

"No - I, I'm just scared. MJ isn't here. I'm sorry -"

"Don't be sorry, detka. We'll be there as soon as we can okay?"

"You're coming?"

"We all are, baby. Can you stay on the phone for me? I want to make sure you're safe until we're there, okay?"

"I - I'm...please, I didn't mean to disturb you..."

"Kitten, you never disturb us." Carol's voice jolts you a little. "You're our girl; you could never."

"Okay..."

Even though you're still trembling on your cold floor, you can't help but be soothed by them.

By their voices.

It takes them no time at all to reach you.

Letting themselves in by the key you had given them shortly after you had all officially started dating.

It's Wanda who comes through your bedroom door first, donning her slept in pyjamas; closely followed by both Carol and Natasha. Both in similar attires. 

You're on the floor still, duvet in a heap by your feet, phone pressed tightly to your left cheek.

Had you had been in a better headspace, you might have found it funny how you could hear them on the phone as well as see them rushing to your side.

But you can only stare past them, eyes glossy.

Wanda peels your phone from you, speaking to you through cotton filled ears; and it isn't until you're embraced in a warm hug, do you register that they're actually there.

In your room.

At 2am in the morning.

The hug feels amazing and you melt into it, eyes instantly growing heavy as Wanda's fingers twirl the baby hairs at the base of your neck.

While lips meet your cheek, kissing away any residue tears that had dried on your skin.

“Baby girl?” Carol speaks calmly, hand holding your own. “Come back to us.”

But the panic is quick to return and your lungs once again struggle. 

“I - I can’t…” You let out a sob, “I can’t breathe.”

Wanda cups your face, forcing your eyes to look at her. 

You take her in. 

Her green eyes that are looking at you with such a soft expression, you find yourself melting into her gaze.

You can’t help glance at the small freckle on the bridge of her nose.

You love to kiss that one. 

“Focus on me, my love.” She says, bringing you back. “Can you do that for me?”

You can only nod, words dissolving on your tongue. 

“Good girl. Listen closely and breathe for me. Nice and deep, in through your nose.”

You do as you’re told, nostrils sucking up oxygen and whistling as they do.

When you exhale through your lips, it’s shaky and you’re sure your morning breath hits Wanda square in the face. 

Regardless, she’s unfazed by it. 

“Do that again for me and after you’ve exhaled, my love, I want you to try and tell me five things you can see.”

“See?” 

“Yes, darling. Five things.”

“Well…you, Natasha and Carol…” you say. “That’s three.”

“Cheeky girl.” Wanda smiles, “go on. Two more.”

“My laptop…”

“Last one my love.”

“Erm,” You look around your room, seeing every potential thing to use but you can’t take it in. “Um…”

“One thing, baby girl. Anything.”

“My - my lamp.”

“Good job, kitten.” Wanda says. “Can you name me four things you can feel?” 

“Well…you…I can feel you…and my pyjamas.”

“Go on.” Wanda says, “three left.”

“The carpet on my feet…my bed frame on my back and…um…my hair on my shoulders…?”

“You’re doing so well for us, baby girl.” Wanda smiles, “Now, three things you can hear? Use those listening ears I know you have.”

You still feel as if your heart is about to claw out of your ribcage but you do as you’re asked regardless; squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to listen around you.

“I’d normally hear MJ’s snoring but she isn’t here so…” 

“That doesn’t count, baby.” Wanda says, “try again.”

“The -” Your voice cracks, “the horns outside.”

“There we go,” Wanda says, hands still holding your firm. “They’re so loud, aren’t they?”

You nod, smiling slightly.

“I can, I - someone is breathing heavily.”

There’s a beat of silence before Carol replies: “…no they’re not.”

Causing Wanda and Natasha to let out a small laugh. 

Your smile grows. 

“What else, love?”

“The dog barking downstairs.”

“You’re doing amazingly, love.” Wanda kisses your head. “Two things you can smell?”

“You’re minty breath…and, I…” You swallow. “My shampoo. It’s strawberry.”

“You’re being so brave, baby girl. So brave. Last one; what thing you can taste?”

“I don’t wanna answer that.”

“Why not?”

“…cos I’ll get into trouble.”

“Just tell us, baby.” Wanda gently pushes. 

“…I can taste my coffee…”

“You’re coffee, huh?” Natasha asks, smiling. “Now when did you have coffee?” 

You shrug, looking down.

“Answer me, kitten.” 

“Before bed I guess…”

“You guess?” 

“...yeah.” 

“Why did you have coffee before bed?” Carol asks.

“...because I really fancied one…and we had coffee in…”

“And you thought that was a good idea?” 

“I didn’t think I was gonna get caught…

You really wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Okay, so,” Natasha says, “I think you know you’re gonna have a caffeine ban tomorrow regardless, don’t you, sweetheart?”

You sigh and pout, bottom lip springing free.

“Yes.”

“So for now, I think we’ll discuss the coffee incident tomorrow when we’ve all had some more sleep.”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, kitten? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to as well.”

“Yes mommy, sorry.”

“Good girl. Now, do you feel grounded enough to try sleeping again?”

You didn't even realise your heart rate had calmed; that you could breathe normally and move your body functionally again. 

“I didn’t…”

“Wanda is very skilled at bringing people down from panic attacks. She’s our super star.”

Wanda smiles brightly and nods in agreement.

“It’s all about distractions and grounding. I knew it would work better with us all here and look, it did. We even caught you out on a lie too.”

“Yippee for me.”

“Now less of that, do you feel okay enough to sleep for us?”

“…I - well yeah but not alone…I don’t wanna sleep alone…”

“We’re not going anywhere, kitten.” Carol says. 

You finally register - and to this day you have no idea how you missed Carol and Natasha putting out blankets and duvets and pillows - the floor littered with cosiness and click on your girlfriends’ plan. 

They never had any intention to leave.

There’s three pillows lined in a row, close to your bed and you can’t help but giggle as the image of you rolling out of bed and landing on them fills your brain.

Carol ushers you into your bed and kisses your forehead before Natasha slips a straw between your lips and tells you to “Drink up, our little coffee drinker.”

You do as you’re told and drink heavily before Natasha tucks you in tight and kisses your forehead too. 

Wanda copies the other two and even sneaks a kiss on your lips.  

“We’ll just be down here if you need us, okay?” She says.

You nod and nestle into your pillow. 

“Now close your eyes and try to get some sleep. Goodnight baby.”

“Night night.”

After five minutes you decide sleep isn’t going to happen. You’re far too lonely and wide awake to sleep. 

Four minutes pass and you decide there’s a big enough space on the floor for you to wedge in between Natasha and Carol. 

Three minutes later and you’re softly saying “excuse me.” with your pillow pressed against your chest. 

Two minutes go by and you’ve settled on the floor, Natasha hugging you tightly to her body while Carol plays with your hair. Eventually, Wanda complains that she’s being left out and the blonde shifts to face her and pulls her into a cuddle. 

One minute later you’re fighting sleep with Natasha's lips pressed to your head. 

Sleep, with sweet dreams, soon follows. 

Bliss. 

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #sugar mommies #carol danvers #reader insert #spiderbites #sugar mommies!asks #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #black widow #smu

[c0stass]

Strawberry Sunscreen

(Costas Mandylor as Chase Harper x reader)

I did another collab w the amazing @costashoffman aka @marcopoloniscannoli

Content: age gap, daughters best friend, reader is a 19 year old virgin, taboo stuff lol EVERYBODY IS OVER 18 AND CONSENTING

Word count: 3.9k

(Gif by @angels-holocaust)

"I'll be there at 5 :)" You send the text and smile, setting your phone on your desk. Claire, your best friend, invited you to her family's fourth of July party, and you're beyond stoked. This year has been rough on you. You took the year off of school to help your sick mother. Now, at 19, you're starting your senior year of high school in less than two months.

It's a pool party, so you opt to just wear your bathing suit, a dark purple tankini, under your dress. It's not likely that you'll get into the water, but you like to be prepared. The rosy pink sundress fits perfectly, accentuating your curves, the hem reaching just above your kneecaps. Your wavy brown hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and you complete your look with a pair of small silver hoop earrings and a pair of black sunglasses before setting off to Claire's house. 

There aren't a lot of people at the party, just you, Claire, her dad, and a couple of friends that you'd lost contact with since being out of school. It's a little awkward since you don't really fit in with Claire's friends. But Claire made sure to include you in their activities so you don't feel left out.

When everybody decides to get in the pool, you opt for sitting in the sun instead, watching Claire's dad cook burgers on the grill. You aren't sure, but you swear you could see him glance over at you once in a while, trying to be subtle. Especially after your dress came off, while you're lounging in a lawn chair in your swimsuit next to the pool.

As the night went on, the subtle glances turned into innocent flirtation. You blush, not used to the attention. You shyly turn away as he comments on your bathing suit.

Mr. Harper makes small talk with you, telling you he's proud of you for going back to finish high school, asking how your mother is doing. The sun is setting, turning the sky beautiful shades of scarlet and purple. You two sit next to the pool, chatting, catching up since it's been a while since you've visited Claire.

People start to leave, and the party is just about over. Claire's dad had given her permission to have you over for the night, so you change into a large t shirt and some clean underwear, ready to settle in for the night.

"Thanks for inviting me today, I really needed it," you say to Claire as you're both sliding into bed, just a little past midnight.

"I'm glad you had fun," she replies, smiling, "you know me and my dad love having you over."

You both slowly drift off to sleep, the cool breeze coming in through the open window, cooling down the stuffy room as the heavy down comforter covers your bodies.

3:34am.

The bright red LED analog clock on the nightstand nearly blinds you as you awaken in a panic, escaping from a horrible nightmare. Your mouth is drier than a desert. The oversized t shirt you wore to bed is soaked in sweat. Glancing over at Claire, you slowly sit up, trying not to wake her up.

Making your way down the dark hallway of the house, you hear what sounds like liquid pouring coming from the kitchen. As you approach the kitchen, Claire's dad turns to face you, a glass of whisky in hand. You pretend not to notice him looking at your bare legs, barely covered by the fabric of your shirt. He's dressed only in green flannel pants, hanging low on his hips. You stifle the urge to let your eyes roam his body.

"Hi, Mr. Harper, sorry, I just came in here for some water," you say, your voice dry and hoarse.

"Let me." He smiles at you, setting his glass down as he opens the cupboard, pulling out a clean glass. He fills it up with water from the dispenser on the refrigerator door.

"Thank you," you barely manage as you chug the cool liquid quickly, water dribbling down your chin onto your large grey t shirt. Wiping your face on your hand, you set the glass into the sink, your arm brushing against his as you withdraw your hand. You're not sure how to describe it, but that split second contact sparked something inside you. Is this your chance? Your gaze meets his for a second before you quickly look away.

"I should, umm, get back to bed," you say quickly, turning around to leave.

"Wait," he protests. Turning around, you can see he's walking toward you.

Your heart skips a beat as he steps toward you, placing a hand on your hip. The contact makes you gasp.

"I need to say something... Every time I see you, I can barely contain myself," Chase's voice is low, sultry, lustful, "and you looked so beautiful earlier," he confesses.

Your eyes widen in surprise. You've always had a thing for Mr. Harper, but he's your best friend's father. You'd be lying if you said you'd never had your own little fantasies about him, but the idea of actually doing anything with him scares you, not to mention would be the ultimate betrayal to your best friend. Especially given the fact that nobody has ever gotten further with you than reaching a hand up your shirt. Being a virgin, still, at 19 is a little embarrassing, so it's not something you usually tell people.

He takes a step closer to you, standing only inches in front of you, his hand still resting on your hip. He's taller than you are, and his frame is much larger. 

"I saw you looking at me earlier..."

"Mr. Harper," you whisper, "I can't." Your heart is pounding in your chest.

"Chase," he whispers in your ear, "call me Chase."

His hand leaves your hip only to travel up to the back of your neck as he gently laces his fingers through your soft, silky hair, causing a slight moan to escape your lips. Shivers run down your spine as he backs you against the counter, and you grab onto the edge to steady yourself. Your face is inches from his neck, and you have to fight the urge to kiss his skin.

"Claire would kill me," you gasp. Chase leans down and levels his face with yours. His lips are just inches away from yours, and his blue eyes feel like they're staring deep into your soul.

"Then we don't tell her," he whispers before pressing his lips to yours. His lips are soft, and they taste like whisky with a hint of peppermint. The stubble scratches your face as you lean into the kiss, your tongue slowly tracing around his plump lips. At that moment, the fear of Claire finding out and how she may react goes out the window. You want him. God, you want him so bad.  Chase pulls away from the kiss, his eyes full of lust and the desire to explore your body.

Kissing your neck softly, his hand snakes up your t shirt, feeling the soft skin on your lower stomach, just above the waistband of your panties. You inhale sharply as you feel his hand move down, his fingers grazing lightly over the thin fabric. There's a warm, tingly feeling between your legs, one you've only ever felt in your own bed, thinking of the very man who had his big hands on you right now. You're eager to continue but nervous at the same time.

"Can we, umm," you take a nervous gulp, "go to your room?"

A smile spreads across his face as he nods. He wraps his arm around your waist, leading you to his bedroom. Luckily, his room is across the house from Claire's. But still, he locks the door behind him just in case.

His bedroom is big. A large bed sits against the wall in the middle of the room with a big blue comforter and matching pillowcases on the pillows. The ceiling light is off, but a tall lamp in the corner of the room shines a soft white light in the room.

Sitting on the bed, you smile up at him, trying not to look scared. But he can see the uncertainty in your eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asks, sitting next to you, "if you've changed your mind, I understand."

"I didn't. It's just... I've never had sex before. I'm still a virgin."

His eyes widen with surprise.

"Really? A pretty girl like you? No way."

"I've always been too scared to go through with it. I'm scared the guy will be too rough, or it will hurt, or that I'm not attractive enough..." Your voice trails off as he slowly tucks your hair behind your ear.

"Dont worry," he whispers as he places a hand on your bare thigh, "I'll take care of you. And I think you're gorgeous."

You cover your face as you blush, giggling nervously. Chase slowly pulls your hands from your face and kisses you again, running his fingers down the side of your face and making your skin tingle.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.” Chase whispers against your lips, his hands moving down to your hips. You moan in response against this lips, your arms wrap around his shoulders as he guides you onto the bed, and your head rests on a soft pillow.

Chase’s hips press between yours, his hardening cock presses against your clothed cunt.

A soft moan escapes your lips as Chase begins to kiss your neck, trailing from your jawline all the way down to your collarbone.

You arch your back ever so slightly as his hand moves the fabric up your chest, offering yourself up to his touch, eager to feel the warmth of his hands against your bare flesh. He pulls your shirt up to unveil your soft breasts, emitting a low growl as he takes your nipple into his mouth.

“O-Oh,” You whisper, his tongue swirls around the soft bud, sending shivers down your spine. Your hand laces through his soft brown hair, watching as he happily takes in your breast while his other hand caresses your thigh.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel Chase’s fingers brush over your clothed cunt, feeling your arousal. “You’re so wet for me, baby.” He purrs.

Before you can reply, you’re cut off by feeling Chase’s finger slipping behind the fabric of your panties and into your wet cunt. He continues to kiss your neck softly as he allows you to adjust, his finger moving slightly inside of you. This is a new sensation for you, and you cry out in pleasure.

"You're so tight... fuck," he groans as he pushes a second finger in, "Let me know if it's too much."

"It's... oh god!" You gasp loudly as he curls his fingers inside you, sending a sudden surge of pleasure through your body. He kisses you to muffle your noises as you moan loudly.

"Tell me how it feels, baby," he whispers, moving his fingers inside you faster, his thumb massaging your throbbing clit.

"It feels so good, Chase, oh fuck!"

Chase moans in response as he pulls his hand away, sitting up on his knees. Biting his lip, he tugs at the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs. You can see his cock throbbing against the thin material of his pants, and you lick your lips at the sight of it. You pull your shirt the rest of the way off and toss it to the hardwood floor.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his blue eyes wide with desire as he looks at your body, laid out before him. His comment makes you blush again. Never in a thousand years did you ever think your best friend's dad would be into you after crushing on him for so long.

You don't even care that maybe he's just looking for a quick lay. You don't want to know. Chase could never have a relationship with you without jeopardizing your friendship with Claire, as well as straining the relationship he has with his daughter. He could never do that, and neither could you.

But you want him regardless. You know he has experience. He wouldn't hurt you. Still on his knees, he slowly lowers his flannel pants, and his dick springs free. You gasp at the sight of it as he removes his pants and throws them to the floor.

"Dont worry, y/n," Chase says, catching you gawking, "Relax..." he leans down, slowly kissing from your knee up your inner thigh. You're completely mesmerized with the sight as he looks up at you, his soft lips making contact with the top of your clit.

"Ooh," you gasp as he slowly drags the tip of his tongue over your clit, flickering over it with just enough pressure to make your legs twitch. You squeeze your eyes shut as his tongue travels around the most sensitive spots, his hand making its way up your body to play with your right nipple.

"Oh my god, Chase..." You run your fingers through his hair and buck your hips up as he swirls his tongue all around your sensitive clit and pussy.

"You taste so good," he growls between licks, "so sweet, like strawberries, mmmm..." he moans, his tongue dancing around your dripping cunt and the sensitive bud above it. His words only add to your pleasure. You moan loudly in response, an indication that you're getting close. Chase digs his nails into your thighs, holding your legs apart as you tremble. Sensing your impending orgasm, he quickens his movements, licking and sucking and nibbling.

"I'm gonna cum, Chase," you moan, your voice breathy, gasping for air. His hand moves from your breast to cover your mouth as you come undone. You squeeze his head with your legs, and you scream against his hand, your fingers claw at his shoulders as you cum. As you're coming down, he slowly plants light kisses around your throbbing pussy, looking up at you as your breathing slowly returns to normal.

He looks up at you, taking his hand from your mouth, licking your juices from his lips slowly, savoring every little bit of it.

"How was that, babe?" He asks in a hushed tone, slowly crawling up the bed next to you.

 "It was amazing," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you."

Chase leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his touch tender. You can taste your fluids on his lips, and despite the initial surprise, you find yourself strangely aroused by the taste.

Feeling Chase shift and position himself between your legs, a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest, eagerly awaiting his next move.

“Are you ready, baby?” He pulls away from you for a moment, scanning over your face for any sign of unease.

You look down to see Chase fisting at his cock, the tip is red and dripping with clear precum. It’s much bigger than you imagined,  but you can take it.

“Yes,”  You nod, looking up at Chase with pleading eyes. “I’m ready for you to fuck me. I wanna feel cock for the very first time….”

Chase is taken aback at how filthy your words are, seeing as he’s always viewed you as his little girl’s best friend. “That’s what I like to hear.” His voice is a low growl, a smirk tugs at his lips.

You feel the tip of Chase’s cock press against your slick entrance. He watches as your mouth opens and your eyes widen when he pushes his hips forward slightly, just the tip at first.

“Chase..” You whimper, your face scrunching in discomfort the more he stretches you open.

“Do you want me to stop?” Chase asks, stilling his hips for a moment.

You shake your head, assuring Chase that you don’t want him to stop. “Just relax honey, it’s gonna feel so good.”

"Oh my god!" Tears well in your eyes as he pushes further, slowly. It hurt like all hell, but you figured it would pass slowly. Your brows furrow as you look up at him, digging your nails into his shoulder.

Sure enough, the initial pain you felt at first slowly dissipated, and you soon find yourself drowning in waves of pleasure. In that moment, you give not the slightest fuck about anything else besides this newfound bliss that you'd deprived yourself of all these years.

"Chase," you whine as you move your hips to match his movements, to which he responds by picking up his pace. The sound of skin slapping skin and the blissful moans coming from the both of you fill the room.

“You’re doing so well,” He praises you, kissing your forehead softly. You bite your lip, closing your eyes. The bed squeaks below you as Chase picks up the pace, his thumb goes down to your clit to thumb at the sensitive ball of nerves, adding to your pleasure. “How does it feel, baby?”

“It feels….so good.” You whimper, spreading your legs even further to allow Chase to fuck you deeper. You flash a small smile at him, your mouth opening a little wider as small moans spill from your lips.

“Atta girl,” He locks his lips with yours, cupping your cheeks gently. “Your pussy is so ready for me baby, taking every inch.”

“Out of all the men to fuck me for the first time…I’m so glad it was you.”

"I'm glad it was me too, sweetheart," He whispers.  "I've wanted this for so long to be able to share this moment with you."

You smile up at him, feeling a deep sense of connection with him in that moment.

You trust him. You feel a certain way you've never felt with anyone before. Wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulder and moaning in his ear, you've never felt closer with anyone else in your life. The sounds emitting from Chase's mouth only add to your pleasure as he fucks you deep. A warm, bubbly feeling starts to develop within you, making your legs twitch. Chase continues twiddling at your sensitive bud, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Oh my god Chase, I'm gonna cum..." You whisper in his ear as he kisses your neck.

"Cum for me baby girl," he says, keeping the same pace, "I want you to cum for me..."

"Ohhh..." You groan loudly as the impending orgasm builds up, "please don't stop, Chase, please..." You beg.

Within seconds, you're wracked with the most amazing feeling you've ever felt in your life. This is totally different than when you're alone in your own bed, fantasizing about Chase. Your own fantasies never measured up to what this man was doing to you in this moment. Your walls tighten around his cock as he fucks you deep and hard, but he never breaks his focus. He fucks you right through your climax, dragging it out. Your eyes roll back and your mouth is hanging open as he presses his thumb down on your throbbing clit.

"Y/n..." he groans, "where do you want me to cum?"

"I don't care," you whine.

"I'm gonna fill you up," he whispers, his lips grazing your neck, making you shudder. He pulls his hand away from between your legs and gently caresses your face, "would you like that, baby?"

"Yes, please, fuck, fill me with your cum, please..." You beg him, looking at him with desperation in your eyes. Chase looks into your eyes as he bites his lip, breathing heavily.

"I don't wanna cum.. you feel so good, y/n... your pussy is so good for me... fuck..."

"Please," you plead with him, "please cum in me."

"Ohh fuck, I love hearing you beg..." he slows his movements, presumably so he doesn't cum too quickly, "beg me more... beg for my cum..." he continues fucking you deep, but really slow, teasing you.

"Chase, please, please cum inside me, fuck me hard till you cum," you cry out, looking up at him, your eyes wide, begging to feel his hot seed spill inside you.

"That's it, baby girl..." he picks up his speed gradually, holding your legs apart, his hands gripping the back of your thighs hard. His hips slam against the back of your thighs as you moan loudly, begging with your eyes.

"I'm gonna cum, y/n.... are you sure?"

"Yes," you gasp.

As soon as you say that, he sheaths his cock deep inside you, throwing his head back and groans loudly as his warm cum spills inside you. You wrap your legs around him and grind your hips against him, desperate for every last drop of it.

"Oh god," he groans, holding his cock deep inside you, "fuck, y/n, so good..." he whispers as he rides out his high.

Gasping for breath, he rolls off of you. He came a lot. You can feel it dripping out of you and between your ass cheeks as you look over at him, gazing into his beautiful blue eyes. You're unable to form words, but your face says it all. This was the most amazing thing you've ever felt in your life. You don't even care that you just lost your virginity to your best friend's dad at 4 on a Friday morning.

"That was so good," you gasp as your breathing slowly returns to normal. He rolls over to his side, facing you, and wraps his arm over your waist, pulling you close.

"It was amazing," he purrs, "I'm happy I could help you experience your first time."

You roll over and cuddle into his chest. He moves onto his back as your face rests against the soft hair and his warm skin, your hand gently resting on his hip.

"Thank you," you sigh happily as you cuddle him close. He reaches up and softly pets your hair. Your eyes are heavy with sleep. It's half past 4 at this point. His big arms wrap around your naked body as he gently kisses the top of your head.

11:23am.

You awaken in a panic, still in Chase's bed.

"Oh my god, Claire!" You gasp as you jump out of bed and rush to get dressed, praying Claire is still asleep. Your legs are shaky and sore. It takes a moment to find your balance. The sudden movement causes Chase to slowly wake up, and he turns his head to face you.

"Mmm, what's wrong, baby?" He mumbles as he rubs the sleep from his eyes as you pull your t shirt back on.

"I fell asleep in here! Crap, it's already after 11. I gotta get back before Claire wakes up."

"Shit," Chase mutters, sitting up in bed, a panicked look in his eyes, "I didn't even know we fell asleep."

As you slowly pull the door open, you barely have a moment to react when the door swings open with almost enough force to put a hole in the wall. Claire is standing in the doorway, looking pissed as all hell.

"What the hell is this?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" She shrieks.

#saw #mark hoffman #costas mandylor #detective hoffman #sawposting #mark hoffman x reader #fanfic #smut #primal doubt #chase harper #Spotify

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 23

Hey, guys! This story is back, baby! And is the start of the four chapters that are all one run on chapter basically. You'll see why at the end of this chapter I held off until I got the resolution written.

I still have some room on the tag list but not much, only six slots. So once it fills up, that's it, I will take no more requests for the list once it hits fifty.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22

****

There wasn’t time for Eddie to see Steve and Wayne before the show, well for any of them to see their loved ones before the show, really.

Eddie’s knee was bouncing as hard as it was when he played in front of Steve for the first time.

They had all met Metallica at the sound check and had hit off, much to everyone’s surprise. But they had their own pre-show rituals and Corroded Coffin had theirs.

“Fuck,” Jeff said, coming back from the bathroom. “I think I’ve thrown up more times tonight than I did that time we all thought it would fun to main line tequila shots for two hours straight.”

Everyone winced in sympathy. That was a bad time for everyone all around.

“Who would have thought that after years of hard work,” Brian said, “that we would be opening for Metallica? Holy shit, this is our lives!”

Jeff smiled, looking a little less green around the gills. “Mandy said that if I waited for us to be ready, we would never take that chance,” he said, rubbing his hands on his pants. “And she’s right. We’ll never get a chance like this ever again.”

Gareth chewed on his thumb, gnawing at it worryingly. Eddie got up and put his arm around their youngest member. “Hey, this isn’t us selling out. This isn’t us giving up our dedicated following. This is us testing the waters to see if this is something we would enjoy doing.” He kissed the top of Gareth’s head. “We won’t know if we prefer smalls gigs at the Nightmare Hole over stadiums, if we haven’t played stadiums, okay?”

Gareth nodded. “I’m just being ridiculous.”

Jeff came over sat down on the other side of him. “No you’re not. It’s a valid concern. But Eddie’s right, too. How do you know you prefer intimate sessions over roaring crowds if you’ve never played to those roaring crowds?”

Gareth sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

Brian tilted his head. “It’s the sound, isn’t it?”

All three other members turned to him. Gareth’s jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times trying to refute Brian’s claim, but found he couldn’t.

Jeff twisted in his seat to look at Gareth a little better. “Loud noises bother you?”

“Gare-bear...” Eddie said softly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Gareth blushed and looked at his hands, picking at the skin around his nails. He shrugged. “I never thought about it. Until Bri said something, I didn’t even realize that might be why.”

Brian had been digging in his bag while they talked and chose that moment to brandish his find. “Tada!” He waved the noise canceling headphones around like a flag. “Wear these!”

Gareth stood up and gingerly took them from Brian and help them tenderly. He looked up Brian like he was a god damned hero.

Brian tapped on them. “Just plug them into little sound device they gave us and bam! No more sound. Or at least very little.”

Gareth fell on his friend giving him the biggest hug. Brian hugged him back fiercely.

“I just want to make sure you have fun out there, okay?” he whispered.

Gareth nodded.

There was a knock on the door and a stage manager poked his head in.

“Five minutes guys.”

Gareth straightened up and composed himself as his friends strapped on their instruments.

They all filed out but Gareth hung back for a moment. Eddie turned and smiled at him.

“Come on,” he said fondly, holding out his hand. “Let’s go make some noise.”

Gareth laughed. “Hell yeah!”

*

Steve was showed to the VIP box where a lot of people were already there. Some of them he knew like Gethin and Miranda. Wayne, too. Most of them were complete strangers and suddenly he felt like he didn’t belong here.

Everyone else here was family. Steve wasn’t even a boyfriend. Not yet anyway. They had barely kissed the once before this landed on their laps. Eddie even had to cancel his tattoo appointment for today. That’s how new this all was.

He took a step back. Then two. He was about to turn and run when Miranda spotted him.

“Steve!” she called out, making every head turn his direction.

Which did not help his feelings inadequacy in the slightest.

She leapt to her feet and dragged him over to sit between her and Wayne.

“I’ll introduce you all after,” she said. “So glad you could make it. Jeff was saying he was worried you wouldn’t be able to because of work.”

Steve blushed. Which meant Eddie had been terrified. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.”

She raised an eyebrow and twisted around to look him in the eye. “You sure? Because it looked like you were going to bolt to me.”

Steve shook his head. “I would have found somewhere else to watch them. But I don’t belong here with family and the significant others. I’m just...me.”

Miranda slumped down in her seat with a sigh. “Steve, of course you belong here. Eddie only had two people in the whole world he wanted to see him open for one of the biggest metal bands in the world. And you’re sitting next to other one.”

Steve looked over at Wayne who chuckled.

“Do we have to tie you down, Steve?” he asked fondly.

Steve shook his head. “No, sir. I’ll be good.”

Wayne hummed. “Glad to hear it. Now quiet down. My boy is about to play.”

Steve smiled for the first time since arriving at the arena.

The house lights went down and the stage lights went up. Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees, chin propped up on his fists. Eddie was always beautiful to behold, but fuck. Like this, under the spotlights? He was incandescent.

Eddie leaned into the microphone and introduced his band to the audience.

“We don’t usually play other people’s music, but we got permission to do this one,” Eddie said. He nodded to Brian, who grinned.

Corroded Coffin’s bassist began to play, the first few notes in and the crowd went apeshit. Completely crazy. Steve turned to Miranda. “Shit. I think I know this one. It’s Master of Puppets, right? From Metallica?”

Miranda nodded. “Damn straight it is.”

Steve was on his feet screaming in an instant. Everyone was cheering and having a good time. Maybe he shouldn’t be here, but until someone said something, he was going to cheer Eddie on the loudest. He loved his metal boyfriend with all his heart.

*

Eddie stumbled off the stage covered in sweat and higher then he’d ever been on weed. The rest of the band was jumping and screaming too. There was no greater feeling in the world.

They got better than front row seats to Metallica as they watched from backstage.

Even after thirty-five years they still knew how to bring the house to their knees.

They celebrated with the band for a bit before their families were ushered in. Eddie had even cleared it with the band for Dustin and his friends to come meet them but only for five minutes.

Dustin and Mike were freaking out, but Will hung back, still shy. But Lars came over and talked to him for a minute and that really made Will’s day. Hell, his entire year if he was being honest.

They all filed out leaving the ten family members alone with the boys of Corroded Coffin. Gareth’s parents and twin were fawning over him calling him brave and saying how proud they were of him breaking out of his comfort zone.

Jeff’s dad and Mandy’s mom were huddled over in the corner with the couple, just hugging each other tight. No words needed.

Brian had his sister and Cecil and his sister chatting excitedly, hands waving about as they broke down their favorite moments of the concert.

Eddie picked Steve up and whirled him around kissing him soundly on the lips. “Baby, did you see us out there?”

Wayne chuckled. “Oh just him and about thirty thousand other people.”

Eddie kissed him on the cheek fiercely. “I’ve never felt anything like it! It was so amazing.”

“You were amazing, Eds,” Steve said. “All of you were. It’s you guys were made for that stage.”

Eddie kissed him again. “I’m so glad you were able to make it! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to come.”

Steve kissed the side of Eddie’s mouth tenderly. “Well you see I had a cancellation this afternoon, so I was able to shift my schedule to accommodate my boyfriend opening for Metallica.”

Eddie blushed. “I’m sorry I had to cancel, baby.”

“I’m not mad, sunshine,” Steve assured him. “I’m happy for you.”

They kissed again.

Wayne waved Steve off so that he could hug Eddie. “I’m proud of you. Now don’t be getting too famous to see me, you hear?”

Eddie’s eyes welled up and his pressed his lips together. “I would never. I promise. I’ll always come to you, I swear it.”

Soon it was time to pack it all up and hit the road for home.

Everyone said their goodbyes and they all parted ways. With Eddie promising to stop by the shop tomorrow to reschedule his appointment.

Steve was beaming. High off the euphoria of watching Eddie live out his dream. He had never felt like this about anyone before and he couldn’t wait to tell everyone about how awesome Eddie did and how the crowd went wild for their music.

*

He really should have seen it coming. He should have been prepared. But he wasn’t.

Eddie didn’t come into the shop that day, because he called instead. Metallica had offered to let them opening for them for the rest of their tour. For the next two weeks, Corroded Coffin would be going on the road with one the world’s biggest metal bands.

And leaving Steve behind.

He fought hard to be happy for his boyfriend. But everything between them was too new. Too tender.

They didn’t even get to say goodbye in person and Steve was left with that feeling of not being good enough.

For anyone.

****

Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve #autistic gareth

[howlingday]

Dark Au:Has Penny been able to help Jaune get any better? I think not a lot but definitely helped improve his willingness to get up and do something at least.

"Ah!" Jaune shot up in his bed, terrified by yet another nightmare. Cold sweat poured from his brow as his heart settled from it's all too familiar thumping in his chest. "Dammit..."

"Good morning, partner~!" Jaune screamed as the near blinding green of her eyes startled him as they entered his field of vision along as suddenly as the voice that accompanied it. "Did you sleep well?"

"I..." He panted, rubbing his eyes. "No. I didn't."

"Oh? Is there a reason why?" She seated herself on his bed, which was less surprising than the fact that her own bed always looked like it was never touched. When he looked to its unmarred appearance, she would wave a hand in front of his face to bring him back to look at her. "Is there a reason why you did not sleep well?"

"I... I was just dreaming about that day again."

"You are referring to the initiation, correct?"

"What else?" He sighed. "It's... It's the worst day of my life."

"That is understandable." Penny agreed. "Many initiates had passed away on that day-"

"They didn't pass away." Jaune groaned. "I wish they passed away. Grandparents pass away in beds while they're sleeping. They... Nobody died peacefully that day."

"My apologies. I was simply using words that would least likely trigger a negative reaction. I seem to have made an error."

"It's fine, Penny." He sighed. "You didn't know how I felt about it and... Well, I guess I am splitting hairs, huh?"

"I... I am not certain what you mean. What does removing hair have to do with your trauma?"

Jaune chuckled. Penny was an odd girl, no doubt about that, but her heart was always in the right place. When she first showed up, he was in a bad place, both mentally and physically. Now, ever since she showed up, he'd been having less nightmares and intrusive thoughts, though they didn't pull back in severity when they did happen.

"It's a saying, Penny. It means to... Uh... It means to take something that's the same and try to make it different by making something specific. Passed away, died, bought the farm, it all means the same thing."

"Are we buying a farm?" Penny asked, making Jaune give another chuckle. "Did I make another mistake?"

"No, Penny. After all, you're only human, right?" Penny was quiet, and even though it was dark, Jaune's eyes were starting to adjust and he could see that she frowning. Deeply frowning. "Penny?"

"The time now is two-forty-three in the morning." Penny replied. "You still need at least one REM cycle of sleep to be fully functional after sunrise."

"Alright." Jaune lifted the sheets on his bed. "I'm gonna go use the bathroom. G'night, Penny."

"Good night, Jaune."

#rwby #dark au #rwby au #my answer #my answers #jaune arc #penny polendina

[sweatandwoe]

Penguins

A sort of sequel to Overflow (or takes place in the same universe in my mind)

Saren x GN!reader, 962 words. Fluff, mentioned past trauma, working through it, mentioned medication and therapy, this is some very fluffy winter nonsense

-

“What kind of creature is on your pants?” 

You glance down at your pajama bottoms - bright green fabric with little white and black birds decorating all over the legs of it. Some have hats on, and others have scarves. “It’s called a penguin.” 

Saren grunts in the doorway, and you only flick your gaze over to see if he needs help first, before glancing back to the extranet news report you had on. It takes a couple of minutes for him to remove his outerwear, and then he moves. Reaching you in moments, he only carefully lifts your ankles in his talons so he can slide his body beneath your legs. Letting your feet rest in his lap, while he rolls his head back against the couch. 

“Rough day?” You offer, and he pats your calf. 

“Nothing more than usual.” He pauses, his talons moving slowly along your leg. Then there’s a tilt of his head, and he traces one of the penguins. You hide your smile behind your datapad, as you watch him try to come up with something to say about them. His mandibles twitch when he thinks. “They’re very cute.” 

“That’s sweet of you.” 

He glances at you then. Metallic, cybernetic eyes gaze into your own. The fake irises shift, twitching almost like real eyes while he scans over your face. “I am trying.” 

You reach for him then, placing your hand over the top of his talons. Everything was still hard, but you were patient. This was all very new to him still, since the indoctrination - and even more so since his discovery of his attraction to a species he had openly despised beforehand. It had been rough, and things were still quite awkward. “You’re doing well.” 

The former spectre’s mandibles flare. “Am I?” 

You hum and tug him forward until you’re both lying on the couch. “Quite well.” You pause, to press a kiss to his mouthplates and he applies pressure in return. It’s the closest to a peck you’ll get, but you don’t mind. “Do you want to watch a documentary about them?” When he tenses, you smile. “You can say no.” 

“I wouldn’t mind it.” He says softly after a few moments of thought, moving to tuck his cybernetic arm over your waist. “Is it alright if we watch a documentary for the colony wars afterward?” 

You give another peck, enjoying the way his mandibles twitch against your face. “I’ll order us some dinner so we can watch both.” 

Today is an easy day. You listen to his comments on how turian fauna would easily rip apart penguins, and let him thrum with pride during the colony wars. You hold his hand when he has to take his medications and help tune up his arm before he has a shower. Falling into bed afterward is easy, with slow and thoughtful love-making before you both go to sleep. 

The next few days are harder. There are so many people on the citadel now, and he starts to get overwhelmed, fidgeting. You fight when he says he wants a gun because he isn’t allowed one - even if he can sneak one into your home. He roars and spits because he needs to protect you and himself. But you both know how he gets with guns now. It’s why they took away his biotic amps too. Not just out of fear of how strong he could be, but how he got when he had those tools. 

It was more of a fear that he’d hurt himself instead of just anyone. He had tried that a few times, shortly after the end of the Reapers and his indoctrination began to subside. It still hurt, to find him waking because you’d hear him. Sometimes mumbling and other times whispering. One time you heard him, repeating to himself after a nightmare: “Sovereign took my eyes. I can’t see anymore. None of the colors are real.” 

You manage to stop arguing each night before bed, so you never fall asleep angry at one another. The thought of phoning his therapist still lingers in your brain, but on the fourth day, you wake to find your bed has a much smaller, different figure lying beside you. 

It’s a penguin, you realize, reaching out to touch it. A toy penguin with a scarf that was far too big had been tied carefully around it. Your fingers run along the scarf, and a soft sound leaves your throat. 

When you go downstairs, he’s making breakfast for you both. You make sure your footsteps are loud, that he knows that it’s you before you move to wrap your arms around his small waist from behind. 

“I love you.” You whisper. 

“I know.” One hand comes down to rest upon your own. Talons gliding over your fingers. “I’m not good at this, I wasn’t even before - everything, but I… I want to try. I want to be better again.” 

He would never be the spectre he once was. But he could be better, be the hero that the citadel had once seen him to be. Charismatic, powerful; a leader. At the same time, if he didn’t want to be, you’d be fine with him like this. Just being your Saren, your partner, and trying to be happy. 

You think being happy would be a good ending for both of you. “I know.” 

Saren usually pauses now, before he speaks. As though reassuring himself that his thoughts are his own, to explain his own reasoning in his head before he lets it out. But this he says quickly, as though he feared when he had forgotten to say it. “I love you too.” 

Talons and fingers hold together, as the smells of two different meals fill the house.

#I'm still working on how to format these lil ficlets #mass effect #saren arterius #saren arterius x reader #saren x reader #mass effect x reader #daily december

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Kinkajou’s Trauma

Kinkajou felt herself tossing and turning in her sleep. Another restless night. She was panting and shaking. 

“Please. Let me go!” she cried out. She tried to press herself against the wall, to make herself small. 

One of the Nightwings rolled their eyes. “Why did they take the gag off of her? Just because her venom’s not strong doesn’t mean I wanna hear her talk.”

The other Nightwing slashed his tail and laughed. “Don’t worry, Dawnsight. We won’t have to be the ones who deal with her annoying screams. We’ve got a new little dragonet who’s going to be helping us with our experiments.”

“Oh? And who might that be?”

Kinkajou was shaking like a leaf, blood dripping into her eyes, tinting everything red. 

The one who walked in..

No.. 

No!

“Moonwatcher!”

Kinkajou jolted out of her hammock and felt to the floor with a thud. 

“Just a nightmare..” she whispered to herself. 

Moonwatcher, from her bed, jumped at the noise. 

“Huh, Kinkajou? Wuz goin’ on?” she exclaimed. She rubbed her eyes and looked at Kinkajou. 

“Kinkajou? Hey, what the matter? You’re trembling like a scared sloth.”

“Oh, ya.. had a.. um..” she attempted to stand up, stretching out the wing that she landed on when she fell. “I’m fine. Really.. don’t worry..”

Moonwatcher gave her that look. That look that said ‘I don’t need mind reading to tell that something is wrong.’

Kinkajou sighed and fidgeted with her pouch of skyfire. This wasn’t the first night this has happened. 

“Ok..” she said with a sigh and climbed back into her hammock. “Look, these past few nights have been… hard. Now that we’re at peace officially, since Darkstalker was defeated and all, I actually have a chance for restful nights. Yet.. my nightmares.. they..”

Moon saw the way she began to shake again. She extended a talon to her and Kinkajou took it gratefully, squeezing it tightly. 

“I have dream of everyone I know, dying around me..” she looked over at Carnelian’s old sleeping spot. She tightly closed her eyes, remembering watching her Rainwing brethren being tortured and slowly dying, and a deep sense of sadness washed through her, her scales painting to shades of stormy gray and full blue.

“And.. you..”

Moon seemed surprised. “Me?”

“The Nightwings.. they.. the things they did..” Her free talon went up to the side of her neck and traced over one of her many scars. “Moon, I know you were never part of that, but when I see you..”

Moon’s face flashed to that one awful Nightwing. Big and burly, who would look at Kinkajou through the other side of glass with contempt. Morrowseer 

She shook her head to clear away the image. Moon wasn’t Morrowseer. She just.. looked a bit like him. But that’s just her brain playing tricks on her. 

Moon looked at her with big, green, thoughtful eyes, listening to her every word. 

Kinkajou took a deep breath. “I know I should be over it now. I know I’m safe now and that you never.. yknow. You were never part of all that! I shouldn’t be scared of you! You did nothing wrong!”

Moon’s brow furrowed and her wings reached out to brush against Kinkajou’s. “No. Kinkajou, it’s ok to acknowledge and share these thoughts. That trauma..” she looked away for a moment. “It doesn’t just go away overnight. Sometimes you need to think on them, sit with them, accept them.” She tightly closed her eyes. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“Moons what happened with Darkstalker wasn’t your..”

Moon raised a talon to silence her. “No. This isn’t about me, Kinkajou. I understand if my presence may still be unnerving for you. We’ve been through a lot together, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still have a similar face to those horrible dragons who hurt you.. I just.. I just hope..” she rested her head on Kinkajou’s hammock as she sat on the floor below it, “that after everything we’ve been through you know you can trust me..”

Kinkajou’s eyes softened and she twined her tail with Moonwatcher’s. “Of course I do..”

The two exchanged soft looks and smiled. Kinkajou closed her eyes and, with Moonwatcher near her, fell asleep for, perhaps, finally, a peaceful night of sleep. 

Divider by @saradika

#Did this just turn into a Moonjou oneshot-? #Kinkajou #kinkajou wof #kinkajou wings of fire #Wings of fire #Wof #fanfic #Oneshot #moonwatcher #wof moonwatcher #WoF moon #Moonjou #fanfic writing #Writing