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strangersmunsons · 2 months

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bark at the moon

there's something suuuuper weird in your garage. your best friend Robin calls up her old pals, Steve and Eddie, to come and take a look.

Contains: Eddie x Fem!Reader. Mix of canon & Modern AU, w/ tweaks to established lore (faithfulness to the source material? I don’t know her). Plot of the show is more or less the same, but focus will be on minor threats escaping from the Upside Down, and no more. Everyone is aged up a bit, timeline of events is kept vague. Reader learns some secrets that are tough to wrap her head around, Eddie is an awkward sweetheart, and platonic!Stobin reigns supreme. Word Count: ~8.1k Warnings: Some brief descriptions of gore. Reader has a mild panic attack. Mentions of food & eating. Strong language. I've been tinkering away at this fic since the summer; it's a little different than the sweet & fluffy stuff I normally post, but I had a blast writing it! So I hope you guys enjoy! 🩷

“Call me when you get home, okay?”

“I will.” You smack a kiss to Robin’s cheek and push your stool back against the bar. “Try not to get into too much trouble tonight. It’s only Thursday.”

“No promises,” Vickie chimes in, grinning toothily at you, cheeks flushed from a mix of joy and booze.

“I mean it.” You jab a finger in her direction, only half-jokingly. “If you FaceTime me again at 3 AM so I can provide ‘emotional support’ while you’re puking your guts out in the bathroom, I’m hanging up.”

Vickie doesn’t even blink. “You won’t hang up,” she replies dismissively.

She’s totally right, but you don’t say so.

“Just try and keep your insides where they belong, please. They should be, y’know — on the inside. Alright? I love you both. Goodnight!” You blow another dramatic kiss in their direction as you saunter out of the bar, weaving between sticky tables over the even-stickier floor to the exit.

Lizzy’s is you, Robin, and Vickie’s favorite haunt, a nondescript dive bar located on the outskirts of town. It’s a squat, dingy little building tucked neatly away into a thicket of trees at the deadend of a backroad. There’s no neighbors or rival businesses in sight, just a small parking lot with a defunct telephone booth that probably hasn’t worked in several decades. The bar is usually only frequented by patrons belonging to one of two exclusive sects: members of the local biker gang, and this random lesbian couple and their one friend.

Truly a hidden gem.

Happy Hour at Lizzy’s has been a tradition for you and Robin (and Vickie, when she chooses to tag along) since you met at work retreat a year ago. When you caught sight of her funky patched-up blazer and choppy hairstyle, you immediately clocked her as the other youngest, coolest person in the room and forced your friendship upon her in the name of survival. Who else were you gonna hang out with for an entire weekend — Matt from HR who, ironically, was on probation for sending a coworker unsolicited dick pics? No way.

“Hey, can you hold the other side of my bag open for me? I’m gonna jam these cookies in there — quickly, while no one’s looking.”

Two peas in a pod, stealing extra goodies from the complimentary snack table and gossiping in the back row during presentations when you should’ve been listening. You’ve been attached at the hip ever since.

Full of mirth from the quality time spent with your best friend, you hum cheerfully to yourself as you push through the exit and step outside. The door whacks shut behind you, closing you off from the bar’s warm interior, and immediately, you take notice of two things.

First, you’re met with a surprising chill in the air. It’s been pretty temperate so far this week, and pleasantly warm earlier in the day, but it’s become startlingly cold in the mere hours you were inside the bar. You swear you can see a frozen puff of breath each time you exhale. You hug your arms around yourself, frowning slightly. Gravel crunches under your feet as you walk to your car.

The second thing you notice is that it’s obscenely dark out. A single orange streetlamp flickers in the parking lot, illuminating little more than the fluttering moths bashing themselves stupidly into the bulb. There’s no moon in the black-velvet sky; it’s just a blanket of darkness above. You glance at the watch on your wrist, but the time is indiscernible without proper lighting. I guess it’s later than I thought?

The hairs stand up on the back of your neck. There’s a gross, inexplicable feeling of nakedness as you cross the lot; the cold, unexpected dark and loss of time has you feeling disoriented and exposed. Naturally, your mind begins dredging up scenes from every horror movie you’ve ever watched, and you pick up the pace. Reaching the car, you wrench open the driver-side door, eager to be within the safe confines of the vehicle.

You slide in, and release a relieved breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Slumping back against the seat, you think, Man, I gotta lay off the slasher flicks.

The moment doesn’t last long. Another bolt of paranoia suddenly shoots through you — you whip your head around, searching the backseat for a killer lurking in the shadows, waiting to slice your throat open, possibly with a machete, or maybe even a hook attached to a stumpy wrist.

Nothing there. Totally empty. Not even an extremely trim, flexible murderer contorting themselves out of view down on the cramped floor space.

“It’s fine,” you say aloud to no one in particular, turning forward again. You start the car and ease out of the lot, switching the radio to a pop station — your last line of defense. No one ever got brutally murdered while listening to Britney.

Thankfully, the ride is uneventful, and nobody pops up behind you with any instruments of violence. The further you get into town, with its familiar lights and gentle hum of nighttime traffic, the more at ease you feel. Your mind drifts, thinking of work, what you’ll make for dinner tomorrow, whether or not Vickie will be throwing up within the next hour. Any mundane topic that’ll help calm your nerves.

Eventually you reach home and pull into the garage. It’s a miracle you can even still park in there, it’s so full of junk — old furniture and hardware tools and odds and ends you haven’t had the energy to try and sort through.

A sigh escapes as you cross the threshold that separates the garage from the house. The sweet, homey kitchen is a welcome sight to enter. You put a kettle on for a cup of tea before bed, and decide to dial Robin while you wait for the water to boil.

She picks up after several rings.

“Hello my love.”

“Hi Rob. I’m alive.”

“Oh, good. That would’ve been awkward if it was someone else calling me.”

“Are you still at the bar?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving in a few. Vickie says she’s fine, but she’s got that look in her eye, so…”

There’s a faint “I am fine!” in the background and you snicker. “Good luck with that.”

Robin snorts. “Thanks. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

Robin bids you goodnight, and you feel a rush of affection for her. Your roommate recently moved out to go live with her boyfriend, leaving you as the sole tenant of the house. Although you reassured her endlessly that you had no issues living alone, Robin was insistent on constantly checking up on you lest you ‘get SVUed’ — her phrasing, not yours.

The kettle starts whistling, and you pour the steaming water into a mug with a bag of chamomile. You plop down on the soft cushion tied to the kitchen chair, letting the weariness of the day settle in your bones.

You scroll idly through your phone while sipping your tea, ignoring the slight burn it leaves on your lips and tongue. The old house settles and creaks while you relax, making those soft noises that you’ve become accustomed to over time. In fact, you’re so used to it by now that in your sleepy state, you don’t even register the odd sound in the garage, a sort of thunk, not unlike that of a confused bird flying into a picture window.

When the last drop of tea is gone, you place the mug in the dishwasher and head for your bedroom. You go through the steps of your night routine as though on autopilot before finally crashing into the plush bed. Within minutes, sleep takes you.

The sound of your alarm is innocuous enough — a small tinkle of bells or chimes or whatever cheerful twee instrument it is that Apple is using.

It’s incredible how something so innocent can sound so ungodly. Ugh.

Barely lifting your head up off the pillow, you drag the trilling device towards you with snatching fingers and turn it off. Maybe you’ll get up when the second alarm goes off, but let’s be honest — it probably won’t be until the third, and even then you might steal a few extra minutes under the covers.

Eventually you manage to pull yourself upright and, with a huge yawn, lurch out of bed. You shuffle down the hall, thinking of little more than the bagel you’re gonna demolish before jumping in the shower, and make your way back into the kitchen. Your bare feet pad softly across the linoleum floor, cold and sticking slightly to your heels. The sky outside the window is a dark, deep blue.

Then finally, in the stillness of the early morning, you hear a dull thud.

You pause halfway to the toaster.

Ten seconds go by. Silence.

Okay, that’s fine, it’s probably noth–

Thud.

Goddamn it.

There’s a stab of alarm as the sound repeats again, then twice more in rapid succession. You take a deep breath, willing yourself to remain calm, and grab the softball bat you keep propped up by the door. Safety first.

You tiptoe cautiously to the door separating the kitchen and the garage, thinking it’s probably a raccoon or something, he slipped inside when I drove in last night. Actually, there’s so much shit in there, he’s probably been living there for weeks. I really should call a Junk King –

You push the door open slowly, peering around the edge, prepared to fight. Your self-defense weapon is made of bright pink aluminum that catches the dim kitchen light emanating from behind you, glinting in your hands. You’re pretty sure it’s a little-league number so, clearly, it’ll be an even match for whatever it is that awaits you.

At first, nothing appears out of the ordinary. There’s no human silhouettes lurking in the dark. Everything is more or less the same as it was last night. The car is right where you left it, and the windows are intact. The spare furniture crammed against the perimeter is still there – nothing is missing or vandalized. But the room is still too dark for you to make out any less obvious differences, so you reach for the lightswitch on the left side of the doorframe.

And then, from the far corner of the room, up towards the ceiling, there’s an ear-splitting screech that nearly stops your heart.

Before you even have time to blink, a shadowy mass is suddenly flying straight at you. It’s still mostly obscured in the dark — whatever it is — a nebulous blur that swings in a low arc across the room. It’s moving so quickly that the air whistles as the creature cuts a path through it.

You let out a shriek of your own and spring backwards, slamming the door shut. It’s just barely closed when it collides into the wood with a frightening crash. You lock the door with numb fingers and slump back against it with your heart in your throat, and a hot, loose feeling in your lower stomach that, in the midst of your hysteria, you manage to acknowledge as a warning that you might shit your pants.

You lurch forward and spin around, now watching the door with wide eyes. The noise from before, which you now understand must have been that thing flinging itself against the walls, resumes with a fervor that makes you sick with fright. It slams into the door relentlessly, and you physically cringe with each hit.

With shaking hands, you pull one of the kitchen chairs out and prop it underneath the door handle. You really don’t think it could be strong enough to break through, but…

At least you don’t think —

“Robin, I’m about to die.”

“...at six-thirty in the morning? Can you put it off until this afternoon, at least?”

Robin’s voice is still thick with sleep and there’s no doubt that she’s irritated by your early phone call, but right now, you could care less.

“I think there’s some kind of cryptid in my garage.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone.

“Come again?”

“Like, I think the fucking Jersey Devil is in there, or something. When I got up this morning I kept hearing this weird noise, so I put my big girl panties on and went to investigate –”

“By yourself? Are you dumb? What if someone was in there?”

“Hey, I had protection, okay? Besides, I figured it was probably a racoon. If it had been a person planning on hurting me, they weren’t being very discreet about it –”

“Alright, alright. Continue.”

“So I open the door, and next thing I know, this thing screams and starts fucking flying directly at my head. I didn’t get a good look at it, Rob, it was too dark, but that thing is out for blood. It keeps flying into the door. Listen to this shit.”

You put your phone on speaker and hold it out, standing as close to the door as you’re willing to get.

“Um, I can’t hear anything.”

“...well…it was doing it earlier...”

“...right. So, what, a bird flew into your garage?”

“A bird? Maybe.” That sort of fit, right? Whatever it was, it had wings. It was kind of big. It made noise. You consider. “Could be a bat, I suppose.”

Across town, Robin suddenly sits bolt upright in bed. Vickie mumbles incoherently next to her, half-awake from hearing your too-early conversation.

“I’m coming over,” Robin says abruptly, and hangs up.

Flinging herself out of bed, Robin begins dressing frantically, scrambling to pull a pair of jeans up over her bare legs. Drawers and closet doors bang open and slam shut again. Vickie groans from beneath her pillow. “Could you keep it down, please?”

“No, sorry babe. Gotta go. I’ll explain later.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You rub your temples in irritation and throw yourself back down on the couch. You’ve taken refuge in the living room while you wait for Robin, and have spent the past fifteen minutes going back and forth with animal control. Trying to convince them to come get this thing out of your house? An exercise in futility.

A frantic knocking makes you jump, before you realize it’s coming from outside the house. You cautiously enter the kitchen again and when you see Robin’s face through the small pane of glass in the front door, your whole body sags with relief. You fling it open breathlessly and throw yourself at her. “Thank God!” The words are muffled, as your face is pressed into her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay!” She slings her arm around you in a hug and pats your back. “We’re gonna take care of this.”

You release her and start venting your frustration. “Yeah, we’ll have to. I tried calling animal control and apparently they can’t do anything since it’s not a dog or a cat, and they kept telling me I had to call a wildlife removal agency instead, and they just kept going on about how they have to send a professional who specializes in birds or bats or whatever the hell it is, and that it’s gonna cost me like at least two hundred bucks –”

Robin cuts off your rambling. “I don’t think you should call anyone.”

You huff. “I certainly don’t want to, if it’s gonna cost me that much. I thought this was what animal control did. What am I paying taxes for?”

Robin’s been here all of two minutes and you already feela little better. The run-in earlier had frightened you, certainly, but you’re no longer alone in the house with an eldritch horror.

Robin shakes her head. “No, I mean I already called someone.”

That stops you, and you squint at her in confusion. “Who? You know a guy who handles this kinda thing?”

“...actually, I know two.”

Eddie’s green-and-white van screams around the corner, practically making the turn on two wheels.

“Jesus, Munson, slow down!”

“Relax, Harrington. I’m a certified expert driver. My insurance company said so.”

A Megadeth song that Steve doesn’t know thumps out of the speakers at a deafening volume. Eddie drums his hands on the steering wheel in time with the music, headbanging as vigorously as he can manage without taking his eyes completely off the road.

Steve reaches for the stereo knob and turns it down. Eddie shoots him a disgruntled look from the driver’s seat. “Hey, man —”

“We got somewhere to be, alright? I told Robin we’d get there ASAP. The last thing we need is for you to wrap this thing around a telephone pole.”

“If she didn’t move so far away, we would already be there,” Eddie complains.

“Dude, she lives like an hour away now. Hour and a half, tops.”

“Well, that’s a long drive when it’s this early!”

Waiting for Robin’s reinforcements to arrive provides ample time for her to shatter your world. You sit together on opposite ends of the couch, staring at each other in intense silence. Your brow is deeply furrowed, eyes nearly shut from the force of the expression.

“Are you being for real, or is this an elaborate lie you’re making up that you’ll laugh at me for falling for later?”

Robin drags her finger across her chest, drawing an imaginary X. “Cross my heart and hope to die. Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds.”

You let out a high-pitched laugh that sounds more like a wheeze. “Yeah, it sounds fucking crazy!”

Robin’s expression turns resentful. “Hey, you’re the one who called me saying Mothman was in your garage this morning –”

“I said the Jersey Devil, actually, but c’mon! An interdimensional monster. Is that real? Can that really be real?”

“Listen, just think about what you saw. You were pretty freaked. Did it really seem like some rabied-up household pest?”

It didn’t. The odd, kite-like shape, the speed with which it flew, and the utter determination — there was no doubt in your mind that it had dived at you deliberately, with the malicious intent to bite and scratch and hurt. You remember the hot taste of fear in your mouth, like a bitter pill dissolved on the tongue.

“No, it didn’t,” you admit quietly. That thing, whatever it was, was weird. But that doesn’t make Robin’s story any easier to swallow.

When it came to the supernatural or…whatever this was considered, you were neither a believer nor a skeptic. You weren’t willing to fully corroborate the existence of such things until you had experienced something like it yourself, but you still took others’ reports in stride; if someone claimed that they felt cold spots in their grandmother’s bedroom after she died, or that their belongings often ended up in odd places despite no one moving them, then you rolled with it. Who were you to deny their experiences? You wouldn’t tell them they’re wrong.

But Robin’s Upside Down, well…it’s giving less childhood ghost story and more Stephen King novel. One of the weirder ones too, that he wrote when he was still snorting a ton of cocaine. She’s on some Tommyknockers shit.

“You’ll see,” Robin promises. “When we kill it, you can get a good look at it.”

“Right, about that. Steve is your himbo friend from home, right?”

Robin smiles proudly. “The one and only.”

“But he’s good at this? Getting rid of these things?”

She nods eagerly. “Oh, very. I know I say he’s a himbo, but I’m selling him short, really, he’s the best. Best guy I know, in fact.”

You hear the pointed lilt in her voice, the one that’s always there when Robin mentions Steve to you. You roll your eyes. “There’s a monster in my garage, and you’re worried about getting me a date?”

Robin throws her hands up in defiance. “I’m just sayin’! He and his girlfriend Nancy broke up.” Her face suddenly lights up as she remembers a bit of gossip. “She’s bisexual now, by the way! Shame she didn’t realize it when we were in high school together, I had a huuuuge crush on her.”

“I thought you had a huge crush on Vickie in high school?”

“I did,” she says, as though there’s nothing contradictory about that fact. “Listen, I’m a complex, multifaceted lesbian, with a lot of —“

She’s interrupted by the knocking at the front door, and both of your heads turn automatically towards the sound.

It’s your second house-call of the day. Robin jumps up, winking at you. “It’s gonna be fine,” she whispers, and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze.

You follow her back into the kitchen, where you’re promptly welcomed by the sight of two boy-faces smushed shamelessly against the glazing in the door.

Robin rolls her eyes and yanks it open.

Without the door in place to support him, one boy loses his balance and topples forward, crashing into the kitchen. The other boy, who pulled back in time, laughs openly at him.

“Hey, dinguses, this isn’t my house, remember? Don’t be weird.”

“There’s not a day in Munson’s life that he hasn’t been weird.”

The one pulling himself up off the floor grunts out, “I resent that.” When he’s fully upright, he gazes at you with wide eyes and a slight frown, not saying anything.

Robin steps in and they each take turns embracing her in greeting. One of them even ruffles her hair affectionately, and you watch the three of them with interest.

You’ve seen enough pictures of Steve Harrington by now that you could pick him out from a mile away. Of the two boys he’s taller, and more classically handsome, with his pretty features and artfully-sculpted hair. In his neat green pullover and pressed jeans, you can totally picture King Steve as he was in high school — athletic and rich and preppy, with his equally rich and preppy girlfriend.

While you recognize Steve immediately, this other boy you know less. He looks only vaguely familiar, perhaps a background figure in Robin’s photos. His dark hair is long, curly and disheveled, and his eyes are huge and starkly brown against his pale skin. Despite the early hour they must’ve left at, he's taken the time to deck himself out in black leather and loads of silver jewelry.

After he releases Robin, Steve introduces himself. He saunters forward confidently, one hand extended out towards you. “I’m Steve,” he says with a charming smile. He cocks his head slightly to the side, and there’s a brief pause for dramatic effect. “Steve Harrington.”

In your peripheral vision, you can see Robin holding a hand over her eyes in embarrassment. The other boy shoots him a dirty look.

You shake his hand politely, mildly amused. “Nice to meet you, Steve.”

When Steve releases your hand, the dark-haired one gives you an awkward wave. “I’m Eddie.”

The name rings a bell. You wave back and smile at him kindly. “Hi, Eddie.”

He shuffles his feet, Reeboks squeaking against the linoleum, not quite meeting your eyes.

“I’m really glad you both are here,” you add, glancing between the two boys. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Our pleasure,” Steve replies. “Always happy to be of service —”

“So,” Eddie cuts in, “where did you find this little fucker, anyway?”

“The garage.” Your voice is soft with trepidation. “The door’s right there.”

Three sets of eyes, blue and hazel and brown, follow the line of your pointed index finger. The chair is still jammed underneath the knob in a feeble attempt to barricade the door.

“Alright, we just need to grab our stuff from the van,” Eddie tells you. “And we’ll take care of it. If there’s only one, it shouldn’t take us long at all.”

You nod, like this is all good and normal and not the weirdest morning of your life. “Okay.”

When they move to head outside again, Steve eyes your little pink aluminum softball bat, back in its place in the corner. He smiles. “Hey, I got one of those!“

Eddie jogs lightly to catch up with Steve as he strides to where the van is parked outside.

“Hey,” he hisses, reaching out and grabbing his shoulder to get his attention. “You didn’t tell me this was Robin’s hot friend.”

“Huh?” Steve squints at him, disgruntled. “Who else would it have been?”

“I don’t know, literally anyone?”

“If I’m talking about Robin’s friend, then I’m talking about her. I didn’t realize I had to clarify.” He yanks the trunk open, and his voice takes on a more taunting tone. “Why? You nervous that a girl is actually speaking to you for once?”

Eddie steps back, visibly stung. “Hey, fuck you, man.”

Steve and Eddie’s friendship is not as tenuous as it once was, but sometimes old habits die hard.

Steve softens immediately, face painted with regret. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he mutters, swiping a hand through his hair. He sighs. “I bumped into Nancy at the store yesterday, I’m not in a good mood.”

Eddie nods awkwardly, not really sure how to answer. “I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, um…again.”

“Thank you…for that reminder,” Steve replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. He turns to Eddie with narrowed eyes. “That we dated twice, and then also broke up twice.”

Eddie just smiles and claps him on the back. “I’m here for you, brother.”

From the kitchen window, you can see Steve and Eddie trudging back towards the house fully armed. Steve is holding a wooden baseball bat hammered-through with nails, and Eddie has what appears to be a makeshift spear — really, it’s just a big stick with a knife jerry-rigged on the end.

Robin takes in your open-mouthed shock. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you reply, dumbfounded, staring. “This is fine.”

The boys reenter. Steve smiles brilliantly at you, face clearing of some previous sourness you don’t know the cause of, and gestures with his bat to yours. “We can upgrade that for you, if you want,” he jokes.

You chuckle uneasily, panic setting in as you stare at the lethal-looking spikes of the nails. “Heh…maybe later.”

Eddie watches you carefully, the way your fingers scrunch nervously into the fabric of your sleep shirt, and the occasional, rapid twist of your head that you can’t seem to control, like you’re desperately trying to clear your mind of something awful.

Robin glances down at her buzzing phone, Vickie’s name and face popping up on the homescreen for the hundredth time this morning — apparently, she’s now awake and frantic that her clumsy girlfriend may have yet again gotten herself involved in some wild, life-threatening shenanigan.

“Just give me a minute, she’s freaking out,” Robin mumbles, pushing past you and into the living room for privacy.

Steve turns his back to you as he goes to remove the chair from under the knob, and Eddie takes this small opportunity to move closer to you. He wonders if he’d be going too far if he took your trembling hand in his.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs. “We’re not gonna let that thing get at you.”

You manage a nod, overwhelmed. Eddie reaches out and pats your arm but pulls back quickly, like he’s afraid to touch you for too long.

Steve calls your name, and you turn to him, distracted.

The chair is back in its place at the table, and he gestures to the now-unprotected door. “Is it crowded in there?”

“Very,” you confirm. The untidy chaos in the garage would normally embarrass you, but given the circumstances, you’re a little beyond caring. “Sorry.”

“That’s fine,” he reassures you. “We’ll try and be really careful about your stuff.”

“But no promises,” Eddie adds, a smile touching his lips for the first time.

You try to smile back, still feeling bizarrely distraught. “Just try not to break my windshield, please.”

He laughs softly. “Sounds like a reasonable enough request.”

“Okay, Munson, you ready?”

“Yeah.” Eddie joins him by the door. There hasn’t been any more noise from the garage since you heard it this morning — you don’t know what that bodes for them.

They brace themselves, weapons raised and at the ready. With a flick of his wrist Steve opens the door, which slowly creaks open. Shoulders hunched, he crosses the threshold, and switches the light on. You watch with bated breath, anticipating the sharp cry to be uttered at any moment.

Nothing happens.

Both Steve and Eddie cautiously enter the garage, watching for any signs of life. Steve starts jabbing at the little nooks and crannies amongst your things, trying to poke it out of hiding.

Eddie crouches down on the ground and peers underneath your car.

“See anything?” you ask hesitantly.

“Not yet,” answers Eddie in a low voice.

Steve peels a dusty tarp off of an old end table, opens up a discarded cabinet. “Come on,” he mutters.

Three agonizing minutes go by as they pick their way through the room, searching under and over and behind every bit of junk, neither boy finding what they’re looking for.

“Maybe it got out,” Steve muses, standing upright, relaxing his grip on the bat, letting it rest casually against his shoulder.

You shift uncertainly, still hovering from your post at the half-open door. “Would that be good or bad?”

“Good for us. Bad for the neighbors,” says Eddie.

Suddenly a streak of dark gray erupts from behind Steve.

You barely have time to yell; Steve, feeling the ripple of wind on the back of his neck, whirls around.

The creature beats its leathery wings and it’s moving up and up until it reaches the ceiling, circling the room, no doubt gauging which angle it should dive at and towards who.

Instinct tells you to slam the door shut, like you did earlier, but then Eddie and Steve will be trapped. Instead you leave the door ajar, crouched in pathetic terror. The boys recover their stances quickly, muscles tensed, ready to swing and jab their respective weapons the moment it comes within in striking distance. Their faces are twin mirrors of fierce determination.

The creature goes for Steve first, swooping down on him; you’re horrified to see its open mouth is full of concentric rows of spiny teeth. You utter a sharp cry, almost unable to look, certain that he’s about to be mauled by this terrible thing.

And the creature is fast.

But Steve is faster.

There’s a horrible sound, a meaty thwack! as the baseball bat smashes into the monster, sending it careening over your parked car like a gnarly fastball. It hits the wall and slides to the floor.

Eddie wastes no time in slamming one heavy boot down on a tattered wing, pinning the dazed thing into place. With one sharp jab, the knife pierces deep into the creature’s belly. He gives the spear a swift jerk, dragging the knife down, and cleaves the body almost completely in two. Its oily flesh is taut, but fragile; the thin skin surrounding the wound peels back, and it splits open like an over-full garbage bag, glistening, red-black insides seeping out onto the hard concrete floor.

Eddie whistles. “Goodnight.”

Gobsmacked by what just unfolded, you tiptoe into the garage. “Is…is it dead?”

“Yup,” says Eddie, nudging the thing with his foot. “This is kind of a small one,” he calls over to Steve.

Steve’s puffing slightly, shoulders heaving with adrenaline. “I noticed that. Probably not doing too hot out here in the real world.”

You gape at them both, eyes flitting between the two boys. Small?

You creep closer to the pulpy mass, getting your first good look at your uninvited guest. If you were right about one thing earlier, it’s that this is certainly no common house bat; it’s gray and rubbery, made of slick naked flesh, with a long twisted tail like braided rope. Its wings are shot through with six spidery limbs, its small head little more than a gaping maw lined with razors. And despite Eddie and Steve’s comments, to you? This thing seems enormous.

Eddie smiles at you proudly. “And just think — we did it all without breaking your windshield.”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, about that…”

There’s a dent in the passenger-side door of the car. You’re sure if you were to hold Steve’s bat at the right angle against the dinged metal, it would fit in the depression like a glove.

Robin appears seemingly out of nowhere, leaning casually against the doorframe, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Hey. What’d I miss?”

The cleanup process is quick but dirty. Eddie scrapes up everything he can with a snow shovel of all things, and dumps the carcass unceremoniously into a Hefty bag — the real heavy-duty kind, with the red strings — as it was politely held open by Steve. Meanwhile, you scrub at the blood left behind, but it doesn’t do much. The ominous stain is likely etched into the garage floor forever.

Maybe you can throw a rug over it or something.

Robin yawns as she watches you work. “Can we go get breakfast? I’m starving.”

“I’m down,” says Steve, motioning for you to hand him the scrubber clutched in your hand.

You hand it over, but warn him, “I don’t think this is coming out.” He starts scrubbing anyway.

Eddie pipes up. “Are there any good diners around here?”

You wince. “We just threw an eviscerated monster in the trash. Don’t you need, like, a refractory period to deal with that level of gross?”

He thinks it over for a moment, then smiles and shrugs. “No.”

Laughter bubbles up and spills over your lips uncontrollably. It starts out normal, but then you can’t stop, and then it sort of feels like maybe you’re hyperventilating.

Robin, your soulmate, bless her, is always in tune with your emotions. She reacts quickly, kneeling down beside you on the cold floor, and wraps an arm around you. “Hey,” she says gently. “Relax, just breathe. I know everything you heard and saw today is literally insane, but it’s all okay.”

Robin’s hick hometown. Parallel dimensions. Little girl with superpowers. Monsters. Something about a gate...Monsters. Monsters from said-parallel dimension. Monsters from said-parallel dimension finding their way inside your home. Monsters in your home.

“Jesus,” you gasp in frustration, knuckling stupid tears at the corners of your eyes. “What is this?”

“It’s a lot to take in, is what it is,” says Steve sympathetically. “But that thing’s dead, and you’re safe now, and that’s what matters.”

“The big bad stuff is already finished,” Eddie adds. You didn’t notice, but he’s crouched down right next to you, mirroring Robin’s position on your other side. “Not to mention,” he nudges you playfully, “you’ve got two pretty damn good exterminators on speed dial now, huh?” He places a hand on your shoulder, and you can feel the warm metal of his rings through your shirt.

You manage a weak mile. “True. That was pretty impressive,” you sniffle. His fingers give a reassuring little squeeze, but — again — is quick to let go.

He glances at Robin and Steve. “You know,” he starts in an accusatory tone, “you guys were definitely not this nice to me when I had to find out about all this shit.”

“We were in a time crunch,” Robin says dismissively. “You had to get with the program.”

The hysteria starts to wane; your body slumps a little under the combined weight of Robin and Eddie’s arms. “I changed my mind.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “About what?”

“…I want breakfast now.”

The ride to the diner gives you a chance to mull over the bizarre nature of the morning’s events. You let your head fall back on the seat and close your eyes; a stranger thing has never happened to you.

Part of you wonders why Robin never told you all this but you immediately dismiss the thought. Why would she, unless it was absolutely necessary, like today? In addition to being pretty far-fetched, the whole thing also sounds pretty fucking traumatic.

“What do you guys call those things again?” you mumble, turning to Eddie, who’s sitting next to you in the backseat of Robin’s car.

Eddie’s face turns pink when he hears you address him, though you can’t fathom why. “Uh, demobats.”

“Demobats,” you repeat. “How’d you come up with that?”

Steve pipes up from the passenger seat. “The first monster we saw from the Upside-Down was called a demogorgon. Some nerds named it.”

“Oh,” you say faintly.

“We can talk about something else,” says Robin. She looks at you anxiously in the rearview mirror, suspicious that you’re going to fall apart again.

“I’m fine, Rob. I’ve made my peace with it.” You pause, and amend. “I’m making my peace with it.”

“Oo-kay.” She drags out the first syllable, letting it be known that she doesn’t really believe you.

“Are there very many of these things?”

Steve seems to hesitate before he answers. “We don’t think so. Only a dozen or so managed to slip through the gate before it shut, and we think we got most of ‘em when they were still flapping around Hawkins. We found one that nearly crossed over the border into Ohio — we were keeping an eye on the papers — but other than that, this is the furthest out of town we’ve heard of them going.”

You process this, not really sure what to say. There’s not really much you can say. Instead, you turn your head to the window and watch the world race by through the glass, letting it slide past your eyes in a blur of green and blue.

The diner’s parking lot is mostly empty. Work should have already started for most — only a handful of elderly patrons are inside, sipping coffee at the bar and reading the paper.

The matronly waitress wiping down a table lets you know that the four of you can sit anywhere you like. Robin immediately slides into a booth by the window, well away from the other customers.

Steve takes the seat across from her, hoping you’ll sit on the bench next to him, but you plop down tiredly next to Robin instead. Eddie takes the last open spot, opposite from you.

A hush falls over the group while you peruse the menu. The waitress comes and takes orders; waters all around, coffee, and juice, a blueberry short stack for Robin, French toast for yourself, a breakfast burrito for Steve, and fried eggs and sausage for Eddie, with a bottle of hot sauce, please and thank you.

Polite chatter resumes, and quickly devolves into familiar banter around mouthfuls of food, though you stay quieter than the rest, thoroughly worn out. Steve and Robin’s camaraderie takes up the bulk of the conversation, anyway, both of them firing back and forth at each other with ease. You decide that you like Steve — he’s clearly grown into a genuinely nice guy, different from the high school boy Robin told you he once was, but it seems he’s retained just the perfect amount of bitchiness. It’s easy to see why she’s so fond of him.

You’re content to watch and listen to them with mild amusement (though Steve periodically directs his comments towards you, subtly watching your reaction to what he says) and it seems that Eddie is, too. You can’t tell if he’s used to being their third wheel or if he’s just being shy because there’s a new person around.

Robin and Steve enter a fierce debate about something or other — the prospective music career of someone named Tammy that you vaguely recall being a former crush of Robin's. You face Eddie and ask in a hushed tone, “Are they always like this?”

He swallows a bite of gooey, Tabasco-smothered egg. “Pretty much.”

“I wouldn’t have the energy,” you marvel.

Eddie chuckles. He shifts in his seat, and his leg bumps into yours under the table. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, turning pink again.

“That’s okay.” You study his face, which is angled down towards his plate, decidedly away from your gaze. His eyes are big and dark and warm, like sticky-sweet molasses.

“You have very pretty eyes,” you tell him matter-of-factly, just as there’s a lull in Robin and Steve’s argument. In tandem, both of them turn their heads to stare at you.

Surprise flickers across Eddie’s face when he realizes you’re speaking to him. His face warms to an even deeper red, but he looks pleased; and you’re glad for it.

“Thank you?” It comes out like a question.

“You’re welcome.” You nod and give him a soft smile, which he returns, and for a moment you might as well be the only two people in the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Robin watches the exchange with her head cocked to the side, eyebrows raised in surprise. You return to eating your breakfast, and she casts Steve an apologetic look. Eddie tries to keep his expression neutral, hiding his glee.

You excuse yourself to the restroom. As soon as you’re gone, Robin says, “Sorry, Steve.”

He just sighs in defeat, slumping back against the booth’s cushion. “Whatever.”

Eddie stabs a fork in his direction. “You’re not even over Wheeler yet, anyway. Let me have this.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “You’re still hung up on Nancy? Steve, come on.”

Steve’s mouth drops open. “You’re the one who said we should get back together!” he cries.

Robin’s mouth pulls to the side in mild guilt. “Which was a mistake on my part, I will admit.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve turns his incredulous look to Eddie. “And don’t even get me started on what you told me about her —”

“I’m the last person you should be taking relationship advice from,” he interrupts nonchalantly.

Steve gapes at his so-called friends. Robin plows on.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re not over Nance, I’m not letting you near my girl. She’s not gonna be your rebound; she deserves better than that.”

“Yeah,” concurs Eddie, the word garbled around a forkful of food, “like me.”

Steve drops his head onto the table.

“And stop trying to flirt with her, so I can.”

“Yeah, because you’re doing such a great job at that so far,” says Steve sarcastically, forehead still pressed against the formica.

“I’m gettin’ warmed up! Just give me a second, Christ.”

Steve, though snarky on the outside, is still soft on the inside, and so feels a pang of sympathy — he knows why Eddie’s nervous around girls. One drunken night he, Eddie, and Dustin had been shotgunning cans of shitty beer in the Hendersons’ backyard, and he’d spilled his guts about the abysmal reality of his love life. Not that Steve’s is going much better, obviously. But Eddie had deep-rooted fears that went beyond Steve’s understanding, insecurities that harkened back to his childhood and twisted into trickier and trickier knots the older he got.

Eddie has his reasons to be nervous.

“Alright,” says Steve, finally yanking his head back up off the table. “I give, she’s all yours. But I’m gonna remind you — and don’t take this the wrong way — that all she’s done so far is give you a single compliment. Don’t get carried away.”

“Too late,” Eddie replies dreamily. “I’m already planning my proposal.”

Robin starts laughing, just as you approach the table again.

“What’s so funny?”

“Boys,” she replies without hesitation. She takes another sip of coffee. “I’m so glad I’m gay.”

You finish the rest of your breakfast. When the waitress offers to bring the checks around, you’re quick to foot the bill.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” you say among the chorus of protests. “I don’t know what I would have done if you guys hadn’t shown up.”

“Ended up in the Weekly World News,” Eddie teases.

“What a high honor that would have been.” You roll your eyes. “I think I’ll pass.”

Steve drives everyone back to the house, and a wave of sadness washes over you as you all pile into the kitchen once more. The prospect of the boys’ departure fills you with a strange kind of emptiness; it hits you that you really don’t want them to leave. You’re already feeling attached.

You suppose being rescued from a monster is just one of those things that brings people closer together, like a family barbecue, or making a blood oath.

And truth be told, you feel slightly…uneasy. Discombobulated. Though the events of the morning are still fresh in your mind, the steps of your daily routine are drifting hazily back to you through the fog of shock. Normally at this hour, you’d be plugging away at work. You have an explanatory email to write to your boss for missing today, and you imagine Robin will be submitting something similar. A nine-to-five job, running errands, going to happy hour — they all seem so trivial. How are you supposed to go back to all those things as though nothing out of the ordinary happened? Knowing that your best friend used the free time she had between finishing high school and working retail to help save the world from monsters and government conspiracies and God only knows what other crazy shit?

It’s all too surreal. You grip the edge of the kitchen table with one hand, steadying yourself. Easy girl.

You glance around, then choose to settle your gaze on Eddie, soothed by all his dark, warm colors.

Steve checks his watch, sighing. “We should probably head back. I got the afternoon shift today.”

Robin shakes her head in disbelief. “I cannot believe that Family Video is still fucking open.”

Steve ignores this and immediately turns to you instead. “To clarify, I have a real job, too — I was part-time at my company, and now I’m transitioning to full-time.” He’s needlessly defensive. “Managing the video store’s been a nice side gig, but I swear I’m retiring.”

You blink. “You don’t have to defend Family Video to me, Steve. It’s a very respectable establishment.”

“Yeah,” agrees Eddie, “Fuck the government, you’re the real backbone of our society.”

“Fuck off, Munson.”

“Well, this has been a grand old time,” Robin interrupts their bickering, yawning and stretching her arms dramatically. “But I think I need to go home. Smooth things over with the wife before she starts panicking again.” As though suddenly remembering your earlier distress, she turns to you, frowning. “Do you need me to stay with you?”

Not wanting to burden your friend who is being oh-so-chill about the science-fiction film that is literally her life, you immediately lie. “No, I’m okay.”

Her bright blue eyes narrow, not believing you. “I’ll stay,” she says decidedly.

“No, Rob, I think I’m just gonna go to sleep, honestly.” You are tired. Your bones feel weary; you want nothing more than to collapse back into bed and slip into unconsciousness again. “You go ahead and go home.”

You shift your attention towards Steve and Eddie, who are both hanging quietly by the door.

“Again, I can’t thank you guys enough. Really,” you tell them again, stepping forward with arms outstretched. It doesn’t matter that you just met; you need a proper goodbye from both of them. Right away Steve obliges, and wraps his arms around you, patting your back gently before stepping away again.

Eddie hesitates, looking bashful when you turn to him next, and you lower your arms in embarrassment. You don’t want to make him feel like he has to hug you if he doesn’t want to. But before you can feel too stung about it, he steps forward and embraces you tightly.

It’s oddly intimate — his arms are low, circled around your waist, and his cheek presses against your hair. He sighs, a soft exhale that you can’t see or hear but rather, you feel. The creeping sense of loss grows stronger when he releases you again.

“See you soon, I hope.” Steve gives you a final wave, when he’s halfway out of the house. “We should all get together sometime. Y’know, on non-monster related business,” he jokes.

“For sure,” you promise, fluttering your fingers back at him.

“And if you ever need anything,” Eddie’s low voice is suddenly close to your ear, “just let me — us — know. We’ll be here before you know it.”

You let out a small, shuddery breath. “Thank you,” you whisper gratefully, touched by his attentiveness. Eddie seems to be the only other person who understands the gravity of what you’ve seen. Robin and Steve have been in the game too long, perhaps, and although they’re understanding, the remarkability of their Upside Down has worn off.

Eddie, however, doesn’t appear to have achieved quite the same level of nonchalance that they have, and when he looks at you, his concern is tangible. It’s etched in the set of his frown, practically staring out at you from those big eyes of his. Those big, pretty eyes.

“See you around,” he says softly.

And with that, he’s gone.

thank you for reading!!! 🦇💙

taglist: @kores-mun-son-n-more

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson series #god i hope this pacing is okay? this is the longest fic I’ve ever written #can’t tell if I’ve jammed too much in here or not enough 🤷🏻‍♀️

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shitouttabuck · 11 months

Text

let the world have its way with you

buck/eddie | 54.5k | rated e

“It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.”

“So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.”

or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

read on ao3

#she’s here!#the longest thing i’ve ever written and i’ve never been so nervous lmao #for the last six weeks she held my hand and i held hers back and i don’t know what to do with myself now #even more self-indulgent than octopus fic if u can believe #911 fic #buddie fic #911 #buddie #bucket list fic #writing tag #evan buckley #eddie diaz #mine

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

Text

Blackbird // Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Coming 2/1/24 @ 8pm EST

#not gonna lie guys this one is LONG #longest fic I’ve ever written if we’re not counting multi chapter #idk what happened to me tbh I fell into a trance and came out with 10k of Danny Ric in the mountains #fic promo #formula one fic #formula 1 fic

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concreteburialplot · 2 months

Text

Intertwined // 05

-> 05 - Girl Crush*

pairing; noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo

masterlist; here | crossposted; ao3 | word count; 10.3k 😅

warnings; sad lol, dumb boys, mutual masturbation, p0rn, alcohol, peer pressure, vomiting, college!omens, jolly intro, gay panic & very mild gender confusion??, denial is a river in egypt, 18+ MDNI

REMINDER: this is an au where everyone is around the same age, follows no actual timelines/events, and uses oc's for family members.

a/n: don't like it don't read it. don’t be mean for no reason & let others enjoy things thnx :)

-NICHOLAS-

It had been about a month since Noah moved out completely and was fully living with us. It wasn’t that difficult of a transition since he stayed with us most of the time anyway. He seemed to be finally settling in and getting comfortable, which I was happy about.

Him living in my house wasn’t the only thing that became comfortable - in fact maybe we’d gotten too comfortable.

That first night weeks ago, where we took care of our morning wood next to each other, wasn’t the last time. It started as that one time thing, then an occasional thing, then finally, a casual thing. Neither one of us seemed to take it seriously, maybe to play off the implications of it. Because what else are you supposed to do when you jack off next to your best friend regularly?

It became so casual, sometimes as if the other wasn’t there.

My half-asleep ears fill with the faint sounds of moans, accompanied by restrained groans I recognize. The more I wake I feel movement behind me.

I stir a bit before turning around finding Noah pumping himself under the covers while holding his phone in the other. He jumps a little when I catch him but doesn’t stop. His actions only halt temporarily.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He says bashfully, baby pink tinting his cheeks.

“It’s fine.” I gulp, my eyes drifting to the obscene noises coming from his phone. “Whatcha watching?”

He shrugs, tilting his phone to me, revealing the most generic looking porn I’ve ever seen. But porn is porn and it makes my already semi-hard dick twitch. “You wanna… watch too?”

My cheeks grow warm at the offer, “Oh, um, I mean, I don’t wanna intrude…” Though, I can’t help my eyes from being glued to the screen.

He shifts a bit and reaches over, setting the phone down between us propped up in a divot of comforter. In the clumsy process, the duvet slides off his lap revealing his cock.

My eyes widen at the sight of him but I immediately divert my attention so that he doesn’t catch me and assume something else.

“Oh sorry.” He blushes and goes to cover himself again but pauses, “Actually, do you mind? I just don’t wanna deal with the mess and-“

“I don’t mind.” I reply faster than intended. I shake my head, “I just don’t wanna… do that. But I don’t care if you do.”

“Cool.” He nods and returns to his previous position with his eyes locked on the screen.

There’s a panicky heartbeat lingering in my chest but the throbbing in my cock takes precedence. I relax a bit beside him and life the duvet higher up on my body, trying to cover as much of myself as possible.

I spit into my hand before dipping it beneath the covers and down around my member, working it out from my shorts. A hiss leaves my mouth at the coldness of my palm but it doesn’t take long for that discomfort to fade.

My eyes begin on the phone, to the blonde woman with large unnaturally perky breasts being railed by some strong man with a big dick, something you’d find on the first page of any porn site. Not my usual cup of tea but whatever, it’s doing something for me right now.

Naturally, my eyes drift and happen to fall on Noah’s cock. His large hand works up and down his member – he’s duo-toned darker at the base and lighter towards the tip, kind of like me just much pinker. I glance between him and the man in the video. He’s smaller than the man, but he’s definitely not small. The video is obviously emphasizing the man’s large size, but he’s still smaller than me, not by much but he is. It makes me wonder if Noah would be impressed by my size.

Why would I think that? What do I care if Noah’s impressed by my dick?

Noah’s probably not even looking at him like that, I’m just weird I guess.

As if on cue, Noah comments.

“I wish my dick was that big.”

Not wanting to stay uncomfortably silent, I nervously chuckle, “Yeah me too.”

“Well, how big are you?” He asks casually.

My eyes nearly pop out of my head. Surely, he doesn’t actually wanna know.

“Oh – oh, I don’t know, but I don’t wanna take the covers off because-“

Noah proposes a solution, “I could feel?”

“I uh – what do you mean?”

“Like, feel it under the covers. So, I can’t see it. That’s what you’re insecure about isn’t it?”

“Um, I, well,” I stutter, trying to think of any sort of appropriate response. I should say no. I shouldn’t want him to do that. But something in me screams that this might be the only time this could happen – not sure why that’s even important. “Um, sure.”

I scooch a little closer to him so it’s easier for him to reach. Unexpectedly, he brings his free hand up to his mouth and spits into it. My eyebrows furrow at the action, not quite understanding why that’s necessary. But when his arm snakes itself under the covers and his hand replaces mine, I’m suddenly not as confused.

My eyes round at the feeling of his hand around me and every muscle in my body tenses when he starts moving.

“Jesus, you’re pretty big.” He says before his hand even reaches my tip.

Suddenly, all the nerves in my body seem to flood to cock and I feel so sensitive under his fingertips. I should be watching the video, but my eyes bounce between his still working on himself and on his other one bobbing under the covers. I can’t tell fully, but it seems like he’s pumping himself faster than before.

His palm reaches the head then slowly slides back down. “You’re so much bigger than me.” His voice seeming casual, but there’s a hint of strain beneath it.

His words and his even faster movements on both of us only worsens the buzzing in my cock.

“Is this okay? I just, I’ve only ever felt my own dick so, I’ve only ever imagined what having a bigger one would feel like.”

“Yeah, yep. It’s fine.” I reply quickly, just trying to maintain my composure.

My chest rises and falls rapidly and my fingers curl into the sheets. A familiar knot forms in the pit of my tummy and the last thing I want to do is cum while he’s touching me. His hand moves on me at the same speed as on his own. His fingertips stride up and down the underside of my length, hitting the sensitive spot beneath my tip every time. My lips press flat together as I try to stave off my orgasm – I don’t want to cum while he’s touching me, but I also don’t want him to stop.

Thankfully he has less stamina than I do.

“Ah, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans, working quickly on himself chasing his climax. “Fuck, fuck!” He whines desperately. His hand doesn’t stop on me while his hips buck up into his hand spurting milky white all over his exposed tummy.

The visual of his cock twitching and spilling cum all over his hand, combined with his high pitched moans and his hand on me catapults me over the edge. “F-Fuck.” I sputter out a strangled groan and scrunch my eyes closed. Before I have time to yank him off of me, my body goes rigid beneath him. The buzzing across my skin seems to all rush into my throbbing cock in Noah’s still moving hand. “O-Oh.” Slips from my mouth just above a whisper while every muscle in my abdomen tightens. I feel myself twitch and spill my own cum into the duvet and all over his hand.

The orgasm nearly blinds my vision and my heart beats so fast I can hear it thumping in my ears. Those couple seconds where it was just me, my racing heart and my throbbing cock, it was pure bliss. Possibly the hardest I’ve ever came before.

It’s not until I begin to come down that I realize what just happened and that… he worked me fully through my high?

My eyes shoot open the second I return to earth and feel his hand finally slip off my softening member. For a split second I contemplate if there’s a way for me to get out of this without even looking at him and god I wish there was.

Fuck

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-” I begin to profusely apologize before he cuts me off.

He laughs, “It’s okay. I’m sure having someone else’s hand probably feels a lot better than your own. Even if it had been you I probably would’ve came even faster than normal… and you know I already don’t last long as it is.” He chuckles with a light peach tinting his cheeks.

One part of me feels bad that I hadn’t returned the favor, until I remember I didn’t really even want to do this to begin with. Then, another part of me wishes I had returned the favor, maybe I wanted to know the same thing he did - maybe I want to know what another cock would feel like in my hand too.

“Yeah - um,” I swallow the little saliva I have left in my dry mouth. “Yeah it was nice.”

He pulls his hand from beneath the covers. “So much for not making a mess.” He laughs.

My eyes round when I see just how much I had spilt all over his hand. “Yeah, yeah sorry again, I just didn’t think that…” My eyes follow his stare on the milky white mess of mine on his hand.

His coffee brown eyes snap up to mine and utters out the last words I ever thought he’d say. “Have you ever tasted your own cum?”

I blink blankly at him, completely devoid of words.

What the fuck

“I-I um, no? Why would I?”

“I don’t know, curiosity?”

“…Have you?”

“Well, yeah, I wanted to know.” He shrugs. “It was gross, bitter. But,” His eyes flutter back down to his hand. “I’ve obviously never tasted anyone else’s. I wonder if yours tastes different?”

My brain seems to glitch, not fully comprehending his statement.

“I-I um, I mean, probably.”

“Would it be super weird if I tasted it?”

My brows shoot up at the question.

But I reply before I’m even sure of my answer. “No, I um, don’t think it would be that weird?”

And it wouldn’t be, right?

He’s just curious.

Just like he was about my cock.

“Alright.” His tone much less confident than just seconds ago.

His dark brown eyes drop to the puddle of my cum on his right hand, just above where his thumb meets his hand. He lifts it tentatively up to his mouth; my eyes can’t help but rotate between his face and his approaching hand. Hesitantly, he darts his pink tongue past his lips to dip the tip of it into the puddle. Unexpectedly, his eyes find mine, snapping me out of my gaze that was locked on his tongue. His mahogany eyes surprise me, with how round and soft they are - so puppy dog-like for a situation such as this. I blink at him and for some reason, seeing him flatten his tongue a bit on the remnants of me makes my cock twitch. He takes a scoop of my orgasm on his tongue and into his mouth.

“Hm.” He hums, almost sounding pleased, like he was taste-testing wine. “You taste better than me. Sweeter. Must be all those bananas you eat.”

Sweeter

My brows join together, perturbed, “It can’t be that different?”

His boney shoulders raise into a shrug. “You can try mine if you want? To make it even or whatever.” He gestures his left hand up a bit to remind me that his mess remains on that hand too.

“Oh - I - well -“ I watch his hand gesture towards me again. The turbulence in my tummy reminds me of when someone offers you a gift and out of politeness, you’re supposed to refuse it - but I don’t want to refuse. I want to know.

“Oh c’mon it’s only fair, it’s not that bad.” He urges me, only reaffirming my inability to voice a decline.

I look down at the back of his hand covered in cloudy white rivers. My fingers gently take hold of his wrist and he lets me take control of his arm without a single ounce of resistance. I bring his hand to my lips and copy his actions - dart my tongue out and meet his eyes. His are just as intrigued as mine were, locked in my tongue.

The second his cum meets my taste buds, my eyes flutter closed. I’m surprised at the taste, it’s bitter and salty, what I imagine battery acid must taste like. The texture is about what I imagined, thick and slimy. And yet, even with the immediate disgust of it, it makes my cock twitch again. There’s a tingle in my fingertips and on my tongue that urges me to lap up the rest of his orgasm but I fear if I did, I’d be completely hard again. I never thought something as rancid as battery acid would make me hard, but for some reason right now it’s threatening to.

I’ve never been more grateful for anything more than the duvet on my body right now.

I half-force a twist in my face at the taste as I pull back from his arm. “Augh, that’s disgusting.”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “See! Told ya.”

A nervous chuckle escapes me, “That you did…”

-Next Day-

Since landing an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor, I don’t see much of either Noah or Folio. While I’m at work after class, they’ve been hanging out at the library in a study group full of people I barely know - people from the frat party a couple weeks ago.

Today though, I got off my shift early and I’m on a different mission.

My tires screech and the weight of my entire body jerks forward as Stella makes another abrupt stop at a redlight. My hand lands on my dash as a reflex I had gotten far too familiar with.

My tongue passes between my lips before pressing them together and close my eyes through a deep breath. I consider myself a fairly patient person, but if there’s anyone on earth who could get me to snap, it is definitely my sister.

“I told you to start braking 5 million feet ago.” I exhaled with the hopes of Buddha himself coming down and bestowing me with a well-deserved medal of excellent patience.

“Whatever, we still stopped, didn’t we?” She sasses, as she continues to dance to whatever pop song pours through the speakers.

“Yeah, barely.” I grumble, crossing my arms in the passenger seat. “I have no idea how they let you pass your driver’s test.”

“You are so grouchy today.” She glares at me. “What, did the shop bully you again?”

My eyes roll so hard they could’ve fallen out. “No.” I clench my fingers into my palms and stretch them out as overlayed flashbacks of scrubbing every inch of the tattoo parlor flash across my mind. “No, I just cleaned a lot. Fumes. Headache.”

“Right.” She responds unconvinced.

The car takes a sharp turn into a plaza I’ve only ever driven past before and pulls into a parking spot right in front of the destination of my mission.

“We’re here!” She beams, turning the engine off.

We walk up to the small shop snuggled in the tiny strip. The walls look like they were once white, a long, long time ago. Now they’re stained a yellow-y beige with weeds and vines growing across the plaster.

“’Record Store. Plus repairs.’” I read off the giant red letters above the door. “How creative.”

Stella’s elbow sharply jabs into my ribcage. “Ow!” I hiss and recoil away from her.

“Be nice. Be cool.” She scolds me in a hushed tone.

Whatever the fuck ‘nice and cool’ means to a teenage girl.

A bell trills sharply when she pushes open the glass door. A rush of cold AC blasts against our skin soon as we step into the foyer.

At the tall reception desk stands a man with lengthy brown hair and a long face. He looks a couple years older than me, at least 23ish.

“Hi Jolly!” Perks Stella almost jumping the second her fingertips meet the glossy wood.

My teeth dig into my bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a giggle when I see the man noticeably deflate the moment he hears the shrill chirp of my sister’s 16-year old voice.

He sets down his pen on whatever paperwork he was working on and turns to us, “Hello Stella.” He greets flatly, with a hint of a foreign accent I can’t place yet.

It’s quite obvious that she comes in here often, more than she’s let on – enough for them to be on a first-name basis.

“Jolly, this is my brother Nick, Nick this is Jolly.” She beams at his name, completely smitten with the older boy. If it wasn’t so obvious that he’s irritated by her mere presence, I’d be more protective of her - but she’s perfectly fine. She’s made sure of that herself.

“Hey.” I meekly wave at him.

He acknowledges me with a nod and looks back at her. “What’s up.”

“Well, we need your help!” She rocks up and down on her feet with her hands behind her back.

“Great. What is it you need help with?” His fingertips restlessly patter on the table top, impatiently waiting for her to deliver her pitch faster.

“Go on Nick, show him.” She urges motioning her hand towards him.

I sigh and pull out my phone from my jean’s back pocket, then scroll to find a picture of Noah’s snapped guitar and hand it to the man.

“Could you fix that? Or know someone who could?” I inquire, already feeling as though the trip was hopeless.

His brows pull together as he inspects the picture then uses two fingers to zoom in on the instrument. “Whoever did this really did a number on it.”

“Yeah.” I mumble, scratching the back of my neck. “So, do you think you could fix it?”

“Hmm.” He hums, pulling down his thick-rimmed glasses down his nose. “I can’t say for sure, you’d have to bring it in.”

Air escapes my throat with another sigh, that’s the last thing I wanted to hear. “Okay. I’ll get it in as soon as I can.” Even though I have no idea how I’ll be able to do that without Noah noticing.

He hands me back my phone, “That’s a really rough break.”

“Trust me, I know. Thanks for looking.” My tone suddenly lacking optimism. “And sorry about…” When I turn to point at Stella, I realize she’s not beside me anymore, now shuffling through the various wooden crates of records. “Her.”

He taps his pen against the counter and glances over at her. “It’s fine. She brings friends in. They buy records. Sales are sales.” He shrugs before going back to whatever he was working on before we interrupted him.

Stella doesn’t seem to want to leave anytime soon so I let myself roam around the shop. The majority of the small store is made up of boxes full of records, a mix of old and new. A small, separated section has various instruments strewn about, most of them looking refurbished. The air is pungent with the smell of sandalwood incense, some kind of chemical-y polish, and stale wood.

“Okay! Ready to go!” Stella calls from behind me and when I turn to her she’s holding a record that I recognize.

“Since when do you listen to Nine Inch Nails?” My brow arches up, seeing as she’s only ever been a Taylor Swift type of girl.

She giggles, “Jolly suggested them.”

I take two fingers and pinch the bridge of my nose with a deep sigh, “Okay, whatever, let’s go.”

Stella and I walk into the house and my ears are immediately unsettled by the sounds that fill the house. They’re giggles, some I recognize to be Noah’s but the other is quite … feminine.

The edges of Stella’s lip curl into a mischievous grin, “Oooooh Noah snuck a girl innnn.” She snickers in a sing-song tone.

“Go to your room Stella.” I order, mostly because her tone irritated me but also because I don’t want her to see what’s behind the cracked door.

She gives me a glare, “You’re just jealous that he’s getting some and you’re not.”

“Go. To. Your. Room.” I repeat sternly through gritted teeth.

“Fine, whatever. Be the party pooper you always are.” She huffs before turning down the hall and slamming the door behind her when gets to her room.

I blink at the doorknob as her words sear into my chest. I question even interrupting until another giggle pierces my eardrums.

I’m precarious with the way I approach the cracked door and peer in. Noah and the girl from the party, Kassidy, next to each other on the bed with open textbooks and notebooks littered about. They’re laughing at something but all I can focus on is her hand on his thigh. An odd twist forms in my abdomen, somewhere between my ribs and my gut. It makes me feel sick, like I ate some gas station sushi.

My knuckle taps on the door and creaks it open. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey Nick!” Noah seems surprised to see me but not necessarily upset by my presence, which for some reason eases the knot in my chest. “I heard a door slam did-”

It’s not until the blonde waves at me with the hand that’s not glued to Noah’s thigh that I realize the anger staining my fingertips.

“Noah, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask through a fake smile.

“Sure.” He nods, “Be right back, Kass.”

Once the bedroom door clicks behind him, I feel myself begin to unravel.

“Does my mom know you’re bringing girls home?” I question, my voice coming out much harsher than intended.

“No…?” He answers. “I figured I would just do what we always did with each other? Sneak in.”

“Okay well, I don’t appreciate you bringing girls into my room. Please tell me you guys didn’t do anything in my bed.” The words shoot from me, quick and sharp, like acid bullets.

His face falls and I see the light behind his warm eyes dim.

Fuck

I regret the words the second I realize my mistake. Though I suppose on some level, deep down, I knew that the word choice would hurt him, but I said it anyway.

I said it anyway.

I was so upset that I said it anyway.

“No?” He replies sounding a bit offended at the accusation, even though it’s not out of the realm of possibility. “I wouldn’t do that in your bed.”

The impulse to lash back is there, bubbling just under my skin, but I have no reason to be angry. No valid, explainable reason. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lie.

“Right.” Noah says softly but with a slight edge. “Well, I” He thumbs over his shoulder. “Um, she was just about to leave so.”

“Okay.” I reply quietly, suddenly overwhelmed with an odd mixture of anger and guilt.

While Noah escorts the girl out to say goodbye, I begin tidying up the room. Noah is pretty clean thankfully, so the room itself is clean, but I can’t shake the feeling of something oddly foreign within the four walls. The room suddenly feels so dirty and the taste on my tongue is sour like expired milk. My eyes land on the bed sheets and my stomach feels like I had drank expired milk – maybe 3 whole gallons of it. My mind struggles to account for the food I had eaten today but fails. Surely that is the reason for my abrupt nausea.

Before I can even process my actions, my fingers hungrily latch onto the bed sheets, snapping each fitted corner off the mattress. Heavy textbooks and pens hit the floor with a loud crash.

Despite having just washed them, I’m absolutely positive that they’re filthy.

Maybe they smelled too much like stagnant laundry this morning

Maybe they were making me itchy last night

Maybe I developed an allergy to our detergent

Maybe it’s been too warm and I soaked them in sweat

Or maybe I just want to clean the fucking sheets.

“Oh,” Noah’s gentle voice startles me from the doorway. His eyes trail up from the mess on the floor to the balled-up sheets beneath my palms. “Um, did I accidentally get highlighter on them or something?”

“Nope.” I’m quick to answer. “Just wanna wash ‘em.”

His brows furrow still looking at where my hands keep the shape of the large sphere of material. “Oh. Um, well. I just washed them like 2 or 3 days ago?”

“It’s fine, I just want to wash them again.” I respond shortly.

“Okay… well, let me do it then.” He crosses the space between us going for the sheets but I pull away.

“No. I got them, thanks.” I avoid him by swerving around his thin body and head towards the door.

“Well, what can I do? I could mop again or… reorganize the fridge? Or…” He trails off, not being able to come up with much else.

“No, Noah. It’s Stella’s turn to mop and who the fuck offers to reorganize a fridge?” I snap at him from the doorway, “You don’t need to be cleaning the house 24/7, okay?”

His eyes falter but he nods “Oh, sorry, I um, I just wanna be doing my part. You know… earn my keep and all that? I just… wanna help.”

My face softens and the tight muscles in my shoulders ease. I feel guilt all over again.

I sigh. “I’m sorry – I just - I just had a bad week with school and with the shop and,” I pause. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, okay?”

He nods and the edges of his mouth upturn ever so slightly into a tight-lipped smile. “Okay.” He pauses, fidgeting with his fingers. “Sorry about Kassidy. I should’ve asked.” He says quietly while his eyes drop to his anxious hands.

The tips of my fingers curl into the sheets a bit, a stream of… frustration maybe? shoots through my veins. “It’s okay. I just don’t want my mom to get mad.”

A half lie.

“Right.”

When I turn to leave, he stops me, “Oh – I wanted to ask you something?”

My eyes widen while still turned away from him. A chill rolls up my spine at the realization that we’ve barely spoken since yesterday morning, when his hand was around my cock.

“Um sure, what’s up?” I turn back to him cautiously.

“Well, the fair is in town this weekend, I thought we could go? You know, me, you and Folio?”

I smile at him, relieved it wasn’t about something else. “Sure, sounds fun.”

-Friday Night-

When Folio comes to pick us up, I immediately regret agreeing to carpool. The passenger side door flings open with yet another blonde in the front seat. This one a bit more of a natural, darker blonde and not nearly as bobblehead-like. She looks vaguely familiar, maybe she was one of the wannabe sorority girls from the frat party.

I sigh when I glance over to my busted blue car that’s been acting up every morning since the cold weather’s been getting closer.

The girl smiles wide at us and gets out so we can fold her chair to get to the backseat.

We squeeze our way to the back and naturally, Noah’s mile-long limbs take up most of the room.

The thick distinctive stench of paper-wrapped nicotine coats the cracking plastic of his car doors and the pungent aroma of $10-per-gram weed oozes from the stained beige seats.

Even though Nick brought his ‘friend’, I feel decent about the fair tonight. I mean these are the things we should be doing, right? Going out is what college kids do.

The girl hands back a plastic bottle wrapped in brown paper and Noah hungrily takes it.

“Vodka.” She says simply with a dazed smile.

“Cool.” Noah grins, though I know he’s never tasted pure vodka in his life.

He puts the bottle to his lips and tips it back, immediately scrunching his face in disgust at the taste. If it was just us, I know he would’ve spit it out.

He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, “Not bad.” He lies straight through his teeth.

Noah tips the bottle offering it to me. I shake my head and wave it off, “No, I’m good thanks.”

“Oh, c’mooonn Nick, don’t be a wuss.” Noah whines.

“Yeah Nick, loosen up! Have some fun!” Folio perks up from the driver's seat and watches me in the rearview mirror.

The last time he told me to “loosen up”, he ended up floundering in a lake so it hardly has an enticing ring to it.

“No really.” I reaffirm. “Not for me.”

Noah tsk’s and rolls his eyes, “You’re no fun.”

The words hit me square in the chest and my ribs mold around the letters like playdoh.

You’re no fun.

They’re simple words. Logically, I know they’re mostly a joke. Yet, they burn like a lit match colliding with white paper.

You’re no fun.

We’ve been friends for a long time. Long enough to sit in boring silence scrolling on our phones comfortably for hours. But now I’m no fun because I won’t drink out of a foreign bottle?

The searing in my lungs forces my hand to reach and snatch the bottle from him abruptly. I don’t think, I just do. I take the bottle to my lips and tilt my head back with scrunched-closed eyes. I chug, better he did and better than the girl, until the scorching of my throat gets too much.

I shove the bottle back at him, now an extra quarter empty. His face and every other face in the car seem shocked, eyes wide with slightly dropped jaws.

“What?” I hiss and let out a vodka-singed burp. “You told me to have fun.”

Nick’s wheels roll to a halt in the dirt of the fair’s extended parking. The crowded car disperses faster than I anticipated, leaving me alone in the empty car. I stumble out of my seat and precariously steady myself in the dirt to scan the parking lot for the group. The four of them are already ahead of me, nearly halfway to the entrance. Their laughter carries in the wind all the way back over to me.

Once I catch up, I trail behind them quietly. My hands stuffed in my pockets and my Vans kicking up dry dirt, just trying to focus on walking in a straight line.

As we approach the ticketing office, my heart plummets to my stomach when I see two familiar girls standing at the gate waiting for us.

I should’ve known.

“Nicholas, you remember Brooke, right?” Noah grins and gestures to the carbon copy of every other sorority girl on campus.

“Yeah. Hey.”

That’s when I notice the delay in my words and the lag between my fingertips as I wave to her. And as we buy our tickets and make our way into the fair, I catch the warmth all over my skin and the growing numbness in my lips.

I think I’m drunk. Really drunk.

We make a solid lap around the entire park – picking up random snacks here and there, some fried oreos, a shared funnel cake, slushees, and more I can’t even remember. All the fried food mixed with the couple spin-y rides and the alcohol sloshing in my stomach, I was more than ready for an actual meal. I convinced everyone on hotdogs since it’s the cheapest food here and I’d already spent a good chunk of my tip money on ride tickets and overpriced junk food.

When we reach the window of the hotdog stand we’re met with a familiar face.

“Bryan!” Exclaims Folio, excited to see his fraternity mentor.

As always, Bryan looks about as thrilled as a mother of toddler triplets after a candy bender.

“Trout.” He replies unenthusiastically with his monotone cadence matching the deep sleep-deprived purple beneath his eyes.

Normally I would’ve giggled at Folio’s ridiculous nickname but my body was too focused on sustenance.

“Two hotdogs and fries please.” I skip past the rest of the indecisive group.

“We’re out of fries.” He replies flatly.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

He just shrugs, unbothered.

“Fine. Just the hotdogs then.” I huff.

“Coming right up.” He feigns enthusiasm.

The rest of the group place their orders and I can’t help but find amusement in how comical Bryan looks. He’s uniformed in a hotdog themed apron and a silly hotdog visor.

We finally make our way to a painted blue picnic table that sits off to the side away from the busy crowd. I’m grateful for the small respite from the overwhelming, overstimulating chatter.

I fucking hate hotdogs. Usually.

But the minute that meat and bread combo meets my tastebuds, it is as though heaven itself found home in my mouth.

The rest of table fades out as I devour my food and it is only when I’ve finished my 2nd dog that start regaining consciousness. I glance over at the boys who are in the midst of telling some story that’s got all the girls laughing.

My eyes land on Kassidy. She’s giggling at every single thing Noah says and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon.

No matter how tacky or annoying she is, she’s still objectively beautiful – beautiful in a way I could never be.

The way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, makes me want long blonde hair too. When she bats her fake lashes at him, it makes me wish mine were longer. Her nails adorned with white tips suddenly make my nailbeds feel bare. The foundation caked on her face reminds me of the breakout I have on my cheek and the stubble growing beneath my nostrils. All at once I’m disappointed with every bit of myself that isn’t like her.

A fleeting moment of curiosity passes pondering if this is what it feels like to question your gender. It had never crossed my mind to be anything other than male, nothing else I ever desired. I’ve never felt like I was in the wrong body or anything of the sort – so, I don’t quite think that’s what I’m feeling now.

Maybe I just envy her existence or how confident she is. Maybe I find her attractive? It’d be kinda shitty if I found her attractive, seeing as she’s Noah’s date and I’m here with Brooke. I don’t think it’s that either, since I can barely tolerate either of them.

Perhaps I’m just drunk and confused.

I must just be drunk and confused.

Once the food settles in my tummy, I feel significantly better, a little nauseous still but better nonetheless. My buzz has fizzled, but the tips of my fingers still tingle and words are still hard.

I quietly use a leftover bun to move around a glob of ketchup as entertainment. Noah’s always been the social one, he’s always been the connections, the glue. So, it’s no surprise that he’s captured the attention of the whole table, filling the air with collective drunken giggles. Normally though, he helps nudge me gently into conversations. He helps me not stay silent like I am now. It’s fine though, I don’t have much to contribute since they have all these inside jokes from their study group.

I snap out of my daze when I hear Folio crunch a coke can in his hand as he gets up from the table. There’s an emptiness beside me I hadn’t felt til now – Brooke is gone.

My gaze follows the group as they get up from the table to bring their trash to the overflowing garbage can.

“Where did Brooke go?” I ask to the general conglomerate, most of which pay no mind to me.

“She left to go meet up with some other friends.” Noah replies, his tone suggests that he’s downplaying the situation. I’m sure she wasn’t having fun with a half-drunk silent boy.

‘You’re no fun’ rings in my head from earlier in the car.

2 things I’ve learned from tonight are:

1 – eat hotdogs when drunk.

2 – pretending to be “fun” is really fucking exhausting.

“Oh.” I say quietly, matching their actions by tossing my flimsy paper plate and Dr. Pepper can into the trash.

“We’re heading towards the bigger rides, if you want to come.” He turns and follows the rest of the group through some carnival game tents.

‘If you want to’ I mimic him in my head.

No I don’t fucking want to but I was driven here and I’m stranded.

“Yeah.” I mumble and quickly jog to meet them ahead of me.

The others made their way to the short ferris wheel line after I insisted it was okay to leave me behind. I sure as fuck didn’t want to sit in a pod alone or 3rd wheel on one of their’s.

I watch Noah and Kassidy’s pod reach and stop at the peak of the small ferris wheel, I don’t know why I’m watching but my body is rooted where I stand. Upon it’s a slow descent down, I see it.

His hand cupping her face. Their lips locked.

It’s not a decision I make until their pod locks at the gate and they’re being let out. My foot swivels in the dirt, kicking up dying grass as I try to dip around various family-owned booths for cover. As feared, I hear him calling from behind. I knew I had messed up by making a run for it so late.

“Nicholas!”

His calling only makes my legs move faster – I’m not sure exactly why I’m running or what good it’ll do, just that I need to get as far away from him as possible.

He catches up to me faster than I was prepared for. Fall leaves crunch beneath his worn-out Converse. “Where are you going?” He asks and before I even turn around to see him, I know the look on his face. The same look that I can’t seem to ever say no to – the one that breaks my back just to make me bend to him.

I sigh and turn to him. “Noah, I’m going home.”

“What! Why?”

And there it was. Big, round, puppy dog eyes full of decadent chocolate so sweet it could rot the teeth right out of your skull - paired with pouted lips that demand pity and restitution.

“I’m not having fun. I don’t want to be here.”

“What? You told me you wanted to go to the fair?” He questions with curved eyebrows.

“No. I didn’t. You invited me. You told me that I wanted to go. You tricked me into being on a triple date I didn’t want to be on.” My arm gesturing towards the fair.

“Well, c’mon we can still make it fun! We can just get some more ride tickets and-” He grabs the sleeve of my flannel and tugs at it towards the fair.

I yank my arm back so hard it nearly pulls him back with it, “No you’re not listening to me Noah. I don’t want to be here. Why do you continue to bring me places that you KNOW I won’t like?”

“We’ve been to the fair a million times, Nick.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah! With just us! Not with three random fucking girls!” The churning in my chest begins to spit drunken thoughts out without filters.

His brows knit together in confusion. “They’re not random girls Nicholas, and I really thought you’d hit it off with Brooke-”

“Oh my god, why the fuck would you think I’d get along with her? Just because she’s got tits and ass? Sorry, I’m not you, I need a little more than that.” I scoff.

“Well, I-I don’t know just thought you’d want-”

“Augh!” I groan and pace a tiny lap around the grass. “Can you stop assuming you know what I do or don’t want?”

“So, let me get this straight. You don’t want to go to parties, or the fair, or hang out with girls… normal college stuff, you don’t want?”

My heart pounds hard against my eardrums and my fingers burn with frustration. My fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches, digging each row of teeth into the other. Molten lava threatens to spill from my throat.

“No, Noah. I guess I don’t want ‘normal college stuff’, I don’t fucking like alcohol and I don’t even know if I like girls!”

My yelled words tumbled from my mouth so easily I didn’t even realize I said anything that odd until Noah’s eyes widen.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

“What?” Noah asks softly and genuinely with his head tilted slightly.

“I-I,” I stumble back, accidentally hitting an oak tree behind me. “I’m- I just need to go home.”

“Nick.” His hands stretch out to grab my arm as I turn to leave but he’s a millisecond too late. “Nick!” He calls after me.

Every bit of adrenaline available in my body propels me forward, past all the booths, all the rides, and through all the neighboring forest. When my feet finally find asphalt, my head feels like a basketball on a player’s fingertip. My eyes widen at a sharp turn in my stomach. I analyze my surroundings in a split second, running towards a lamp post for support. The moment my palm touches the cold metal, I double over and empty the contents of my stomach onto the concrete. The funnel cake, the cotton candy, the fried Oreos, the slushees, and the goddamn fucking hotdogs all found home the sidewalk.

I don’t even know if I like girls.

Why would I say that?

Is that true?

Do I not like girls?

Of course, I like girls.

I wobble over to a bench and sit on the cool wood. The weather’s a lot colder now that the sun has set, and I regret not bringing a proper jacket.

I like girls. I know I like girls. Right?

I mean, I’ve been jerking off to girls… this whole time? So, if I didn’t like girls, why would I do that?

I like girls.

Only.

I like girls.

Right?

I shake my head of the thoughts spinning faster than I can even grasp.

The dim light of the street lamp flickers and it occurs to me that it’s almost 10 pm and I have no idea where I am or how to get home.

Fuck.

Pulling my location up in my Maps app tells me that I’m still fairly close to the fair, which unfortunately means I’m pretty far from home. Tears begin prickling in my eyes and a tight knot forms in my throat.

The weight of the night crashes down onto me all at once.

The “you’re no fun”

The fucking hot dogs

The “she went to meet other friends”

The “if you want to”

The ferris wheel

The “I don’t even know if I like girls”

“Fuck.” My voice cracks as tears take hostage of my cheeks.

My body doubles over, folding in on itself to bury my face in my hands.

I’m drunk, I had a shit night, I left my best friends at the fair and now I’m stranded on some random street.

Even through my own heaving, a brief pang of guilt shoots in my stomach for leaving Noah behind.

He wanted to have a good night, perhaps I ruined it.

In the past, I would’ve stayed feeling guilty because I knew for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d come back to find me. But now, I’m not so sure. I don’t think he’d leave Kassidy for anyone or anything.

Not even me.

My palms try to stave off the tears by digging into my eye sockets.

“Fuck, okay. I need to get it together.” I say out loud to myself, letting out a deep exhale. “What the fuck am I gonna do.”

Both of my only friends are still at the fair.

Mom is at work.

So that leaves me with…

Stella.

“Shit.”

I unwillingly pull myself from the bench and begin to pace back and forth taking fast but deep breaths. I ring out my hands out, trying to expel any sort of panic from them. The last thing I need is for her to see me like this.

Finally, once I’ve composed myself, I dig my phone out of my pocket and click her contact name “Snot”.

It rings for a little bit too long and I almost hang up just before she answers.

“Hello?” She asks a little louder than necessary, shortly after I hear a flood of giggles in the background. Her sleepover.

“Hey.” I barely get out without my voice cracking.

“Hey, what’s up?” She asks with concern lacing her voice. There’s the sound of a door closing behind her, shutting out the chatter.

“Oh um-“ My tone pitched up and I feel tears welling up in my eyes again. If the rest of tonight’s events weren’t enough, here I am making a fool out of myself to my little sister. “I forgot about your sleepover. It's fine – I’ll just walk home or something.”

“Walk home? Where are you?”

I swallow the knot in my throat trying to keep my voice level, normal and calm but my pause is long and loud.

“I-I,” My eyes squeeze shut pushing as much of my tears out. “I don’t know.”

“Did you drink?”

The back of my hand roughly wipes my nose. “Yes.”

“Are you with Noah?” Her voice is gentle and kind and reminds me of how our mother would talk to us when we scraped our knees.

I sniffle and my voice threatens to break once more. “No.”

“Okay.” She states as if she just got handed a checklist of effortless tasks. “The girls were just about to go home.” I know that’s a lie. “Drop me a pin and I’ll come get you.”

“Thanks Stell.” I reply quietly.

“Of course.”

It took about 20 minutes for Stella to pick me up in my own car.

My arms wrap around my shivering body and my head rests on the window as I watch the streetlights zoom past us. Her speed is inconsistent, fast in short bursts then slow in long drags. Her stops are jerky and her turns wide. If this was an early Tuesday school morning, she wouldn’t be able to stop my mouth from rambling off critiques. But tonight, opening my mouth seems more dangerous than her driving.

“So. Do you wanna talk about what happened?” She cuts through the silence unapologetically, like opening a crisp can of Coke in a dead, silent room.

I shake my head.

“C’mon. You can’t really expect me to pick you up in the middle of nowhere at midnight without any context?” She patters her fingertips on the steering wheel and glances over at me. “Did something happen with Noah? Did you get into a fight?”

“Something like that.” I mutter.

She squints her eyes and kind of tilts her head to the side. “You guys never fight?”

“Well.” I reply bluntly. “Things change, I guess.” The fabric of the seat cover stretches as I shift. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

The gears spin in her head, I can almost see them. “Weird.” She mumbles under her breath. “Was it about a girl?”

“I said I’m done answering questions.”

“Sheesh, okay.” She says defensively.

Silence fills every empty space in the car. I’m not sure I’ve ever been uncomfortable around my sister before, but I certainly am now. It’s a new feeling, something I want to run and hide from. My knee bounces nervously as my mind cycles through everything that happened tonight. Regardless of anxiety and confusion twisting my organs into pretzels, I fear that if I don’t say what’s chanting in my head right now, I could explode.

“I told Noah that I don’t even know if I like girls.” I blurt out with extreme urgency, as if I didn’t get it out now, I never would.

Her eyes widen a bit but they stay focused on the road. My heart thumps hard against my chest threatening to jump right out.

“Okay.” She says calmly but cautiously. “And why did you say that?”

“I-I don’t know.” I let the weight of my body finally relax and sink into the seat. “You’ve known me my whole life. Do you think that I… might not only like girls?”

She turns to me at a red light and the face she gives me reminds me of when she was 4 and I was 7, when I speculated that Santa might not be real. Without a second thought she replied, “Of course he’s not real, silly.”

Even at 4 years old she was smarter than me.

“I think that might be a question you have to figure out yourself, Nick. I can’t tell you what you do or don’t like.”

I huff, suddenly frustrated that I couldn’t hand off such a complex task onto someone else – that I couldn’t have someone else give me a quick, solid, factual answer.

“I guess you’re right.” I mumble.

She returns her focus to the road and lets out a little sigh. “Do you remember when we were little? And we liked Power Rangers?”

“…Yeah?” I reply confused as to what exactly Power Rangers has to do with my sexuality.

“Well, I remember the first time we watched it - and you thought it was so stupid.”

“No I didn’t? I loved Power Rangers?”

“No.” She corrects me. “At first, when it was just us, you thought it was dumb. But then all your friends started liking it and suddenly you did too. You even wanted to be the red one for the group costume that Halloween, remember?”

“Okay… and? What are you getting at?”

“I can’t tell you what you are or aren’t, Nick. But you’re right - I have known you my whole life. And I know that sometimes you change things about yourself to, I don’t know… not make waves? Not stand out? To fit in? I don’t know your reasoning and I don’t know if that’s what you did with this. But… just something to think about I guess?”

My fingers tap at my knee in thought. I don’t really remember that specific component, only that I had Power Ranger shirts and bedsheets. I remember playing with the figures on the playground with friends and running around the neighborhood with them on Halloween as the Red Ranger. If I was having fun, does it really matter if I didn’t actually like Power Rangers?

“Yeah… I guess it’s something to think about.” I let out a deep sigh. “How’d you get so smart anyway?”

She shoots me a smile, “I learned from the best.”

“Nope, definitely not me. That was all Mom.”

“Who did you think I meant?” She smirks.

“Ha-ha so funny.” I roll my eyes with a toothy grin, finally feeling the tiniest sliver of ease enter my body.

The relaxation slipped from me as quickly as it arrived. “Please don’t um, tell her…or anyone that we talked about this – especially Noah.”

“You got it. I would never.”

I somehow feel relieved yet terrified of what I’ve just divulged to her.

“Do you wanna get donuts from that 24-hour place? And maybe some water for your inevitable hangover?”

“God yes please.” My thumbs rub circles into my throbbing temples. “And a burger please, jesus I need a burger. And fries, I need fries more than air right now.”

“Fiiine, McDonalds too, I guess.”

“Thanks, Stell.” I say soft and genuine.

“Of course, Nick.”

I smile kindly at her. Tomorrow I’ll probably regret everything I said and did tonight but right now, I’m getting junk food with my sister at midnight and the world is quiet. Everything feels okay, even if it only lasts until the end of my Mcdonald’s.

I wave Stella goodnight as she walks into her room. With a twist of my doorknob, I open my door and my feet halt in their tracks. My swollen eyes widen at the last thing I expected to be in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I question before I can even really gauge my own reaction.

Noah sits on the edge of the bed still in the same outfit from the fair.

“I went looking for you.” His brown eyes find mine and it makes my chest ache the same way it did earlier on the bench.

“You did?” My square shoulders soften briefly before straightening back up again. “And why would you do that?” I snap at him.

The space between his brows burrows slightly, seemingly confused by my harsh response. “Well, I-I,” He presses his lips together while his fingers pick at his nails. “I was worried about you.”

My eyes dart down to the carpet and try to ignore the way my heart swells at his words. I swallow hard and curl my fists at my sides. “Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

“Oh okay…” He trails off and lets his gaze drop to his fiddling hands and bouncy leg. “I just wanted to make sure, I guess.”

“Okay well, you’ve made sure. Now I really just wanna go to bed, if that’s okay with you.” I cross all of the two feet from the doorway to my dresser and forcefully yank the top drawer open.

He carefully lifts from the bed and meets me where I dig for clothes. “Nicholas.” His voice is gentle and full of concern, but no matter how much it should comfort me it just fans the flames of my resentment.

“What now, Noah.” I sigh harshly and turn to him.

“What did you mean at the fair?”

After the food adventures I had with Stella, it had almost erased what I had said from my memory. Too bad it couldn’t have done that to him too. I was really banking on him being too drunk to even remember. But I should know better than that – Noah and his very selective memory.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign confidence and turn back away from him to focus on finding PJs. My chest and limbs fill with a feeling similar to sitting in the waiting room of a principal’s office. Suddenly, I’m small and the room triples in size while the oxygen rapidly depletes.

“You know what I’m talking about Nick.” His fingers gently grab my arm to turn my attention to him again. “Do you… not like girls? Do you think you’re-”

“Gah! No!” I all but spit out. The thought of what he was about to say makes me want to vomit all over again. “No, I’m not…that.”

“O-oh, okay…but if you were, you know you could tell me, right? You know you can tell me anything, like we’ve always done.” His voice is quiet and tender, even through the vodka I can still smell on his breath.

“Oh my god Noah.” I grasp at the air in frustration. “No. I just said it to, to throw you off. So you’d let me go, so you’d leave me the fuck alone.”

“Oh.” His hand slips from my arm and he takes a step away from me.

If this was any other night, after any other event, I would apologize, minimize it, and say that I’m just having a bad night. But it’s not any other night and I don’t have enough energy in my entire body to make more excuses.

My fingers dig into the bundle of PJs I hold, and my stare stays straight on his chest. “I just, want to take a shower and go to bed. Okay?”

“Right.” He sucks his teeth and nods. “Okay, enjoy your shower then.”

“I will, thanks.” I reply blandly, shoving the overflowing drawer closed.

The world seems much lighter now that the thick layer of carnival muck, the remnants of alcohol and vomit were washed down the drain. I scrunch my hair with a terry cloth towel while I walk to my room from the shower.

I’m confused to find my door cracked open with the big light still shining through the door. I spent almost an hour trying to get all the grime off and let the water ease the pulsing in my head. Surely, Noah wouldn’t still be up, it’s almost 3 am.

I quietly creak the door open to find the bed empty.

“Huh?” I whisper to myself and make my way over to the disheveled bed. Noah’s nowhere to be found, but instead there’s a plushy on his pillow. I hook my finger through the plastic carabiner attached to it and lift it to my eyeline. It’s a stuffed tuxedo cat with sunglasses that look similar to the knockoff RayBans I usually wear.

I look back at the pillow and notice there was a note beneath it. I pick it up and unfold it with the cat dangling on my pinky.

‘Saw this at the fair and thought of you.

Went to stay over at Kassidy’s so, you can have your room back for the night.

-N’

The breath that escapes from deep in my torso seems to deflate me completely. I knew the slip of up of my words the other day hurt him, more than I thought. A vine of thorns wraps around my throat, each guilt-drenched spike digs into my windpipe. He left because of me.

I take a precarious seat on the edge of the bed, holding each item in each hand. My palm aches to crush the note in my fingers but my eyes burn with salty tears too. All while the cat swells my chest in the saddest way possible. How could someone feel so many things at once?

I have no screams, no yells, no sobs left in me and my body begs for rest. I can’t let myself wallow in whatever this is, how could I make sense of it now? When my brain is so hazy and my eyes are so sleepy.

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the tiny bit of tears left in my eyes and set the note and the stuffed kitty on my bedside table. The bed creaks when I bury my knee into the mattress and let myself fall to the middle.

The bed feels colder and emptier without him in it, but right now I’m not sure this is where I want him to be.

I reach up to tug the lamp light off and pull the duvet around my shivering body.

After about 20 mins of stirring with no hope of falling asleep, I give in and just stare into the stillness of the room. My eyes finally adjust to the darkness and start making a sort of mental inventory list counting all of the items scattered around my room that aren’t mine. I try to remember what the room looked like before he moved in, but I can’t.

While there are growing pains, I can’t imagine my room without him in it anymore. He’s tangled himself into the very essence of the space.

Drawing my gaze across the room, I land on the kitty he’d gotten for me at the fair. I reach across the space and bring it to the bed, placing it in his spot.

It fills a tiny void in the vast emptiness of the bed and for about 15 minutes I cling to the minor comfort it brings, believing it might help me fall asleep.

I let out a frustrated sigh. The heaviness of the night drops onto my shoulder blades and finds refuge beneath my eyes. Once again a venomous coil tightens itself around my ribs.

It is mostly confusion that I feel, the only factor I can distinctly pick out.

The only other one I can somewhat recognize is, loneliness.

I glance back over to the cat and it dawns on me the possible reason I can't fall asleep. My fingertips tap rhythmically against the mattress cycling through my options until I find one.

I wrap my thick duvet around my body and grab my pillow before shuffling down the hall. I gently tap my knuckle against her door then crack it open just a bit.

“Stella.” I whisper-yell into her room. “Stella.”

She shifts in her bed and cracks one eye open at me. “Hm?” She groans sleepily.

I let myself in and scuffle across the carpet to her bedside. “Can I sleep on your floor?” I request in a hush.

“What? Why?” Her brows knit together with her eyes barely open. “What’s wrong with your bed?”

I chew on my bottom lip searching my brain for an answer that makes any sense but there’s only one.

“It’s empty.”

tag list; @ladyveronikawrites @sinkingteethinwhitenoise @concretenoah @kingdomof-omens @the-hell-i-overcame @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm [comment if you'd like to be tagged?]

Thank you for the support on this series and on my other series, Virality. I appreciate it more than you know. I love reading your comments and asks. I am incredibly grateful for them, thank you.

#i have edited this so many times and it got so long #sorry if there’s errors or is bad idk 😭#im honestly just really sick of editing and looking at it #longest chapter i’ve ever written for any of my series-es ever #as always lots of plot lots of dialogue #concreteburialplot works #intertwined series #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nick ruffilo fanfiction #noah x nick #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo #nicholas ruffilo smut #noah x nicholas #noah x nicholas fanfic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic

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sergeantsporks · 20 days

Text

Anyone else up getting emotional over how their writing’s changed over their lifetime, or is it just me?

#[gripping your shoulders] Everything I wrote as a teenager had a depressing or at least bittersweet ending.#I used to write fics where everyone died. Now the longest fic I’ve ever written is one where everyone lives.#It goes for my original stories too #writing #writblr #war stories from the sergeant

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dabislittlemouse · 1 year

Note

what if you confessed to dabi first?

─ ⊹ ⊱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⊰ ⊹ ─

“𝑨𝒏 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔, 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝑫𝒂𝒃𝒊, 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒕. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉.. 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒔..”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Word count: 5.2k

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Contains: Dabi x fem!reader, complicated feelings, angst with happy ending, slight of injuries

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ A/N: The picture above is taken by me. The handwriting is mine. It was a love letter I had written for Dabi when I was on my feelings.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Recommended song: Lana Del Rey- Blue Jeans

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Tags: @shadowsandshapes @ko-konutty @shotos-rose @holydayaria @vicesthings

Reblogs would be appreciated!

You couldn’t exactly remember the moment when, or how you ended up in this situation, where your mind was so empty and your heart was so full it didn’t even feel yours anymore, but his. Though here you were. You had fallen hard for your raven haired comrade with those piercing blue eyes, as intense as those threatening flames licking his fingertips and ready to take down everything without mercy. Just the way his eyes took your soul away without mercy as well, made it his forever, turned your brain mush to the point he was the only thought in your mind. And the worst of it, he didn’t do this on purpose, at all. As far as you noticed, you were the fool in here, getting so obsessed with him to the point it drained you from the inside, so madly in love you couldn’t understand why.

Maybe it was the way the sound of his voice gave you butterflies on your stomach, the uniqueness and attractiveness of the way he looked and dressed up, the smug smirk on his face and the teasing tone in his voice, the way he was the quietest among them all but the silence he held weighted a lot. A man of mysteries, a man with eyes that held many stories and pain behind them which you were dying to figure out. Maybe you were attracted to the unknown, but you knew it wasn’t just simple curiosity. Without him knowing, he had become your comfort person, staying with him in silence as you smoked on the balcony was what made you truly happy. Many unspoken words and overwhelming thoughts would suddenly disappear when you two stayed in the presence of each other. And without him knowing, he’d become the reason you were slowly going crazy. How did you even end up like this? You hated yourself for feeling this way, because you were more than sure that if the moment came to sacrifice someone, you’d sacrifice yourself for him. Die for him. You’d be more than ready to do so.

You loved his little praises whenever you did good on missions.

“Good girl”, “You did a great job” , “Well done”, “That’s it”.

Fuck, you were deep in this. The way you’d constantly ask him if there’s anything he needed, the way you’d follow him like a puppy on missions, ready to obey and follow his orders. He was the leader of the Vanguard Squad after all, the second in command after Shigaraki. And with a good reason too. Dabi was a strategic man, too clever for his own good, carefully going for the next step and make sure to outsmart the enemies. That was attractive to you. Everything this man did was attractive and it drove you crazier with each day.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but you remember one night how passionately he spoke about carrying Stain’s will and burning down hero society. He seemed so determined to reach his goals and not let any distractions get on his way.

Distractions..

That was the only reason why you hated yourself for falling for him, Dabi wasn’t someone who’d willingly get in relationships, right? Love, emotions, feelings, those would definitely distract him from his goals. It was an unspoken rule amongst villains, to never fall in love. Love would ruin everything, ruin missions that were so hard be executed, a distraction from what’s important. And you were an idiot, the way you’d be constantly daydreaming of Dabi and drooling over him when you should be training instead and be useful for the League.

You tried to not be delusional, but you had noticed too how Dabi would talk more when you were around. He’d also call you during the night for a smoke outside the balcony, it had become almost a routine. It was the first time you’d listened Dabi talk about anything else other than heroes and society. This time he talked about songs, he even showed some of his favorite bands/artists to you, and you found yourselves having another thing in common. Music connected people, and this definitely bonded you even more with the villain. You’d sit there with him in silence, listening to his playlist, it felt more personal. The lyrics of these songs made you wonder what does he usually feel, what did he go through, but you chose to not ask further questions. You and him had become close, you could say friends.

But what you felt for him was more than friends. And that was eating you alive.

The fear of ruining what you had with him was weighing on you too. What if he got disgusted with you and ghosted you? What if he got angry? What if you’ll scare him away? You could even hear him calling you “pathetic” the moment you confess to him. You were scared. You had made up your mind to never confess to him.

But the desire to hold him in your arms, to hug him tight, to kiss his pretty face and those charred lips, it was burning you from the inside. You wanted him to be yours, as you were already his. Call it even selfish, but you wanted this man all to yourself, to love and cherish him until the day you die. The endless tears you’ve shed for him at the late hours of night spoke millions of words and feelings that you were too afraid to share with anyone. It was agonizing, your heart was bleeding and he didn’t know.

You had to tell him. At least make it known to him that you’d be there for him, devoted to him until the day you gave your last breath. You’d let him use you in any way he wanted, only for him. And this won’t hurt him to know, right? You could help him achieve his goals.

It was one of the many usual nights out in the balcony, Dabi was next to you, puffing out smoke and holding the cigarette between his lithe fingers. A bottle of whiskey sat in the small table near you. It was your suggestion to bring it, Dabi was confused because you’d rarely drink but he let you be.

“Not gonna drink that doll?” he said suddenly, the use of that nickname for you was so common but it gave you shivers everytime.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot..” you laughed softly, almost too nervous. Dabi had noticed how lost you were on your thoughts lately, and he wished he could get inside that mind of yours and figure out what was keeping you on edge. It looked like you had something to say, but you’d remain silent, and this made him more frustrated. He watched you take a sip, wincing a bit at the taste of it as he chuckled.

“Careful, you ain’t used to that..”

“I know. But I’ll be fine” you say confidently, hoping that the drink’s effect will help you open your heart to him. Minutes passed, and you already felt your body lighter, your head a bit dizzy but suddenly it felt like you could talk to him now. The nervousness was still there, but faint.

Come on, do it. Tell him

“Hey, you better say what you have in mind” Dabi exclaimed, making you squeal in your place. You didn’t know the way your mouth was moving, ready to speak but barely letting a word out, and that frustrated Dabi even more. What were you so afraid of? He thought that you two had gotten close to the point you’d both talk on various of topics, and he hated the way you were acting so scared and strange towards him lately. It made him think he was doing something wrong, he tried to push those thoughts away and he hated how much you were in his mind. Never in his life had he cared so much for someone else, until pretty you came in his life, and he hated it.

“Okay okay..I’ll tell you..” you murmured, biting your lip as you turned at him, fully facing him now. Dabi’s face remained stoic, and you gulped nervously.

Time to spill it out.

“Maybe you’ll think that I’m pathetic from what I’m about to say right now, maybe I am who knows, but fuck it..” you smiled, your face heating up as Dabi leaned closer and paid attention to each word you were saying. “I like you Dabi, a lot. And I care about you.. I think.. you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met..”

Dabi remained motionless but then a soft smile appeared on his face, he couldn’t lie when his heart felt a sudden warmth at your words. “Hm.. gettin’ all soft and sweet now doll? Not pathetic at all.. I gotta say I like ya’ too. We do go along well, better than with anyone else in my life..I could even consider ya’ as a good friend after all-”

A singular tear that rolled down your cheek made Dabi stop talking, his words caught in his throat. The only time he saw you cry is when you spilled up a bit from your past, and he hated that moment, he hated seeing you cry. Why were you crying again? Did he do something wrong?

“Dabi.. it’s not just that.. it’s more than that” you sniffed, trying to prevent more tears. “It’s not just.. friends. I truly like you.. it hurts. It’s just-”

Say the word.

It was stuck in your throat, prickling your skin and making you bleed, but you let it out. You felt pathetic, embarrassed, but at this point you let it all out. You couldn’t hold this any longer in your chest, you needed him.

“Dabi.. I love you..”

Those words hit him harder than anything else ever did in his life.

“..so much..”

His brain fogged and his mouth got dry while those three words that nobody ever said to him in his life rang through his ears. It was shocking, it felt so unbelievable, how could anybody love him? How could you? You were perfect, an angel on this earth loving a monster like him?

“Liar.”

“W-What? Dabi.. it’s not a lie..I swea-”

“What even makes you think I’m someone who you could love on, princess?” His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t hold it back. The last time he devoted himself to someone, it costed him his life, costed him his body. Never again. Never again would he devote himself to someone, love someone to the point he burns. “What makes you think I can even feel love?!”

Your eyes widened, his words stabbed you like a sharp knife through your chest. You kinda knew the outcome, and yet you were never prepared. The hopes of having a relationship with him were turned to dust and that hurt you a lot. But you were desperate to know one last single thing.

“Do you.. feel anything for me at least? More than a friend? Just tell me..I won’t open this topic ever again I swear..”

Dabi stared at your teary eyes, the answer rolling on his tongue, threatening to slip out. The answer was yes, and it was eating him from the inside. Now that you made your feelings clear to him, he felt his feelings being cleared up too. He knew he felt too much for you no matter how much he tried to gaslight himself into thinking he didn’t. But Dabi never planned to stay alive for too long, and he’d rather get burned all over again than promise you a relationship which will get ruined by death, hurting you for eternity. He’d never consider himself a relationship kinda guy, he knew he’d hurt you. So, rather than give you hope, he simply denied his feelings towards you.

“No. Nothing at all” Dabi said coldly, face remained emotionless, a real actor that nobody could read him through his masks. “I’m focused on what’s important, on our mission, on my goals. I can’t let any distractions ruin this”

Only if you focused closely on those pools of turquoise, you’d notice the real feelings hidden behind his eyes, and the lies he was spilling. But sadly, you didn’t. His words had your vision blurry, it felt like you were choking on your own emotions, it was too much.

“Y-yeah. You’re right.. I’m sorry for making this awkward.. maybe it was the drink” you shrugged, trying to control yourself from sobbing pathetically right in front of him. “I must go rest.. it’s been a long day”

“Hey..”

Before you left he grabbed your arm, and you hoped he would say that he didn’t mean it, that he was lying, that he also loved you back and wanted to be with you.

“Better not see you again like this. Erase whatever bullshit you’re feeling. This is villains life sweetheart, there are no feelings whatsoever between us. Get. That. Through. Your. Brain” he whispered through his teeth, eyes flaring and making you squirm in his hold. You simply nodded, not letting out a single word knowing you’d burst. This was the only amount of comfort you’d get from him, and you better not fuck things up more than you had already. As you left, he sat back down, lighting a cigarette with his finger and sighing in frustration. Your tears and the way you shaked in front of him didn’t leave his mind, just like you he’d also fallen down into a rabbit hole which was so hard to come out of. Dabi was afraid of those feelings, it was something entirely new and he had to admit he felt scared. He was born a failure, what made you even think that he’d be a stable person in a healthy relationship with you? Dabi figured out that it will be for the best if he kept distance from you, until you eventually forgot about him and focused back on your goals. He felt guilty, after all you were a great asset to the League and a great person too, someone like you must not suffer from him. But if only he knew the love letters you’d written for him at the late hours of night, letters that you kept hidden, he’d understand that you could never forget him. He’d realize what you felt was pure love, something that never vanishes, something that will be on you forever.

Weeks had passed and you noticed Dabi had been more absent lately. He was sent on missions by Shigaraki, and even when the leader didn’t need his service, Dabi still volunteered to do most of the work, which resulted into him being outside most of the time. You’d hoped he’d come back when the night falls, and then go smoke with him outside the balcony, but he never did. Dabi never came until the sunrise, you’d deprive yourself of sleep hoping he would come knock at your door or sent you a text message. None of that. You blamed yourself for it, if only you had kept your mouth shut he wouldn’t be distancing himself from you like this.

“Hey Dabi..” you took the courage one of these days to talk to him as he was sitting on the bar, a drink on his hand. He turned around at the sound of your voice, soulless azure eyes staring back at you and making you shiver in their presence. He looked exhausted, clearly must’ve been back from a mission.

“What?” he murmured, almost sounding uninterested to talk to you right now and your chest hurt.

“Um, I’ll be out to smoke, I thought you might wanna join me as we-”

“Nah it’s fine. I’m tired, m’going to sleep” he interrupted you, forcing himself to stand up and heading for his room, his shoulder brushing past yours.

“Oh-okay..goodnight then” you whispered, biting the inside of your cheek and preventing the tears from forming in your eyes again.

At the same time, you felt angry. Why did he deny your feelings like this? Why is he behaving like this, even after you apologized that night? You never asked for a relationship and agreed to remain friends, just as you were, so why? You felt yourself going crazy, scrolling mindlessly on your phone and consuming whatever you could from social media to distract yourself from feelings, to find something to fill his absence, but no avail. Nothing and nobody could fill Dabi’s presence, he was everything to you. Your moods depended on him, if he gave you the right amount of attention you were happy, if he ignored you then you were sad. When you’d see him shine in his glory, surrounded by blue flames while beating enemies and wreaking havoc on the battlefield, you couldn’t help the admiration, the inspiration and determination that bloomed on your chest to fight for your goals and for the cause of the League of Villains. And now that Dabi was gone? Everything in you was shattered, you were lost and couldn’t find yourself.

But you still tried, being on Shigaraki’s bad side wasn’t something you’d want to happen. Your current mission was to tame the giant beast Gigantomachia and force it into Shigaraki’s submission. As exhausting as this mission was, barely getting decent sleep, it still helped you take your mind off things and release all that pent up frustration on the giant monster. Dabi was nowhere to be seen, earlier he claimed to have found a potential recruit for the League, and that’s where he’d focus on. Even as he made himself present on the League discussions, he’d barely look at you, and it broke your heart over and over.

Though you never noticed the way he’d look at you when you weren’t paying attention, or when your back was facing him. Dabi looked at you the way a person looks to something or someone they’re dying to have on their grasp, to make them theirs forever, but knowing too well they’ll never be worthy of it and never handle it with care.

———-

“They have Giran!” Twice exclaimed, sudden panic and worry filled all of you as the man who had recruited you and everyone else, was kidnapped and tortured in Deika city. Without a single hesitation Shigaraki decided to focus on saving Giran and end the man called Re-Destro, for simply having the audacity of threatening the League.

It took a few good hours to make it to the destination, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Dabi joined as well.

“How did I agree to go along with such a stupid plan?” he scratched his neck. You noticed he was nervous, whenever he felt awkward, uncomfortable or nervous he would scratch his neck, something you’d learned by spending countless nights with him. It was clear he didn’t want to do this. But it was too late, everyone was aware of the League’s arrival and the attack began in less than one second.

The city was empty, but suddenly filled with what seemed many citizens devoted to Re-Destro’s cause, ready to attack mercilessly. All of you were scattered, trying your best to fight whoever came in your way. The city would light up in blue, a clear sign that Dabi had already begun grilling the enemies without mercy. You noticed a guy with a hood on was after him, apparently having an ice quirk.

Pathetic. How could ice ever put up with Dabi’s scorching flames?

But you noticed, this icy guy’s tactics seemed more to be continuously attacking Dabi, not even full blown attacks, as if this was some child’s game, purposely to send Dabi into exhaustion. Dabi being the best at long rage attacks, would let the flames burst and burn everything on sight.

“My quirk takes a toll on my body. If I use it too much, it harms me. A lot. I’m weak” he sighed, that’s what he told you one night.

“No Dabi, don’t say that. You’re not weak, you just need the proper training for it! Your flames are the strongest I’ve ever seen” you said back, truly wanting him to change the opinion he had about himself. To you, he was one of the strongest people you’d ever seen, and you hated when he put himself down like that.

As those words rang through your mind like warning bells, your eyes widened after noticing the way Dabi was panting and steaming smoke from his body. He looked exhausted, no matter how much he tried to stand up on his feet and seem that everything is alright. The icy bastard had drained his energy slowly with those attacks, and he seemed to have more in store than Dabi did in this moment. He was dodging every attack and melting all the ice coming his way, but his flames got weaker. You had to do something to help, you know what Dabi hated most was being seen as weak and being helped, but this didn’t matter right now.

Being surrounded by all the smoke, Dabi didn’t notice the giant ice spike flying towards him, the sharp point aiming right for his chest. But you did, you noticed it, and without thinking twice your legs moved, sprinting towards him.

“Dabi!!!” you screamed.

“Huh?!” He turned around, looking at your running figure. “ Y/N what the hell are you-”

“WATCH OUT!”

It was a split second. Dabi turned around noticing the ice spike coming towards him with an unimaginable speed. Then in less than a second he found himself on the ground, head slammed hard against it as he struggled to stand up. What the hell just happened? As he raised his head up, the soul almost left his body at the pool of blood near him.

It was you. You pushed him away with all the force you had, which resulted into the ice spike piercing right through your stomach. Now you were on the ground, bleeding all over as you struggled to breathe.

“N-No, no…Y/N why the fuck! Hey!” he ran to you, his face gone pale as for the first time in his life he felt fear and panic. His hands were shaking. Just like that time in Sekoto when he thought he would die. But this time he wasn’t scared of his death, this time was much worse. He was scared of yours, the way you were bleeding too much to the point you could lose your life at any time.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck!” he cussed through his teeth, melting the ice spike and trying to do something to stop the bleeding. “Y/N stay with me- fuck stay with me”

“D-Dabi..”

“You’re an idiot- fuck, hhah you really are, aren’t you?” his voice was shaking, as he tried to neutralize the wound and wrap it up with a piece of clothing. Your vision was getting blurry and his voice felt far away.

“Hey, don’t you close your eyes on me goddamn it- Y/N!” he called you desperately, holding your face on his hands and rubbing your cheek. “Fuck why would you do this?! Why would you fucking do this?! You crazy idiot- fuck, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry”

Right under the scars of his eyes, tears of blood were slowly rolling down his cheek as he called for you to keep your eyes open. You tried your best, you did, but due to the loss of blood it was hard.

“Don’t you leave me- fuck, not now, please…” he begged, his chest felt too tight, he felt like going out there and burning the world for trying to take someone so precious from him. He felt the guilt eating him alive from ignoring you and your feelings and now you were almost giving your last breath on his hands.

“Someone fucking come here! Compress! Toga! Shit, Y/N stay with me, you’re my strong girl yeah? You’ll be with me when we destroy this world yeah? Fuck!”

His strong girl. A weak smile appeared on your face at this comment. Butterflies still managed to appear on your stomach despite from being injured badly. You weren’t sure if you could resist any longer without proper treatment, you whispered incoherently to him but he simply put his finger on your lips, shushing you to not force yourself into speaking and waste energy.

With both of his hands, he grabbed your face as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Y/N.. don’t you leave me alone, stay with me” he whispered. “Shit.. I love you, there. I’ve loved you the day I first laid my eyes on you, pretty girl. I should’ve said this sooner, fuck I’m so sorry Y/N..”

A singular tear rolled down your cheek, his confession suddenly gave your body enough energy and time to resist a bit longer until help came on your way.

“D-Dabi.. the..letters..” you choked out, your teary eyes looking up at him. If you didn’t survive, he had to know that for once in his life he had been genuinely loved and admired, he needed to know exactly what you felt for him. He must read those letters.

“Huh, what letters?” he whispered softly, feeling a little relieved as Toga and the others were sprinting towards the both of you. Dabi was too focused on you to notice the destruction Shigaraki was causing further into the city centre.

“Here, let me treat her! I have enough blood!” Toga squealed, getting ready to treat you, luckily knowing the blood type you had.

“She’ll survive, she is stronger than she looks” Compress said, trying to calm Dabi down as he was visibly shaking and distressed. If Toga managed to really save you, he’d promise to treat her with everything she wanted until he died. Hell, even kidnap that Uraraka girl just for her too.

By now you had already dozed off, eyes finally shutting and all you could hear were the distant voices in the dark.

———

The day had finally ended, with Shigaraki’s victory against Re-Destro and his army. With Re-Destro finally recognizing Tomura as their supreme leader, their king, now the League of Villains had more benefits than they’ve ever had since the group was created. The first thing Tomura ordered was to get all you guys food and proper treatment for the injured, and get all of you nice and comfortable rooms to spend the rest of your days. As requested, Re-Destro gave access to his mansion on the mountains, getting all of you the best treatment and luxuries.

You on the other hand, were still unconscious, but your life was saved. Toga had to admit that she thought you’d never make it from the major blood loss, but for some reason you survived and she didn’t understand how this was possible. Little did she know that Dabi’s confession gave your mind and body enough hope and energy, filled you with happiness and love to the point not even death could take it away from you anymore. That’s how strong your feelings for the villain were, you were ready to die for him, but also live for him too.

It didn’t take long for you to open your eyes as you sat there on your bed, and you noticed a pair of raven fluffy hair next to you, which you recognized immediately. Dabi had been sitting by your bed the whole time, waiting for you to wake up, and now he had fallen asleep. You noticed his hand was holding yours, which made your heart feel warm and full. Gently you squeezed his hand enough to let him know that you were awake, and in a few seconds Dabi raised his head, sleepy azure eyes looking at yours.

“Y/N..” he whispered, not holding back the smile on his face as he saw you had finally woken up from your slumber. To him it felt like forever, like you’d been asleep for a long time and god, did he miss you.

“Wow.. I’m still alive, unfortunately..” you joked as he chuckled, softly kissing your hand and making you blush.

“Don’t say that..” he mumbled, his lips brushing on your knuckles. “You scared the living shit out of me, stupid girl..don’t do that again, y’hear me?”

“If I didn’t do that you’d probably end up dead..”

“And so be it” he sighed. “I’m not worth dying for, believe me.. if you had died cause of me, I’d never forgive myself y’know, fuck..”

You noticed he was getting overwhelmed again, you risking your life took a toll on him.

“Hey.. I’ll die for you a million times if I have to..” you replied as his eyes widened. “Did you really mean that? What you said back there..”

Dabi got closer to you, brushing your cheek gently. “Yes, every single word..” he whispered. “I’ve fucked up, I should’ve told you that earlier.. but I was afraid y’know? I’m not cut for that kind of stuff, I can’t be decent for you. I’m a mess, Y/N”

“A hot mess..” you corrected him as he laughed softly. “I don’t think I’d have fallen for you if you weren’t a mess, Dabi. After all, I’m not any better either, I’m fucked up in the head. You’re more than decent for me”

“You’re fucking perfect, you’ve always been” he mumbled, squeezing your flushed cheeks gently. It felt like a great weight was lifted off his chest the moment he confessed back to you, he still thought that he didn’t deserve you, but he decided to not talk any further of that and just admire you instead.

“Hmm.. you said something about letters back there?” Dabi asked, as you looked at him confused. Then it hit you, your face turned red as you looked away from him.

“Nothing” you said.

“Look at me..” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Do not hide things from me pretty girl..what are those letters?”

“Ugh Dabi it’s cringe, I’m not showing you any of those letters..” you squealed, embarrassment washing all over you. “It was just.. when I’m usually overwhelmed I write things down on paper.. and those letters were.. well, for you”

Dabi remained speechless as you looked everywhere but him, swallowing nervously the moment his shit eating grin appeared on his face.

“Oh shut the fuck up..” you scoffed, hitting him gently on the chest as he chuckled.

“Damn, since when does a bastard like me get love letters? You’re so fucking cute..I’ll never be worthy of you doll..” he smiled, giving you a peck on the lips without thinking twice. “I’ll burn the world for you, y’know..”

You sat there shocked with your mouth open, not having time to give a proper reaction as Toga and Twice suddenly entered your room.

“Treatment time- Y/N you’re awake!!” Toga jumped happily.

“You are reckless! We were worried about you! Wait, why is your face red, open the windows she is suffocating!” Twice exclaimed. Everything was happening so fast and all you could see was Dabi’s amused reaction at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“Later doll..” he winked, grabbing the pack of cigarettes as he headed out of the room.

Smug bastard.

You smiled, tears of happiness forming in your eyes. This was only the beginning of your journey with him, and you still had so much more to say to each other. It felt like time was running so fast, it always does when you’re with the person you love the most. Dabi had accepted you and your feelings, gladly giving you his heart in return, which you’d keep and take care of until the day you give your last breath. And maybe, even if there is life after death, you knew your soul would always find his, cause it belonged to him forever.

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honnelander · 8 months

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friends….i have some news….i think part 3 of go fish! will be the final chapter of that mini series 😶

it’s going to be so 🤌🏼✨ fluffy and intimate that it just makes sense that the confessions will just come out then….but maybe i’ll change my mind idk 😜 sometimes the characters have a mind of their own

so….be prepared 👀

#go fish! au #I’ll def make other fics with mutual pining but like for THIS particular storyline….i wouldn’t know where else to take it after part 3 #idk we’ll see #I haven’t started writing it yet but I have ideas of what I plan to write #you have been warned 👀🚨#I can also feel it being a BEAST of a chapter #probably the longest thing I’ve written for this to date tbh

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friendlyneighbourhoodelf · 8 days

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summary —

When Obi-Wan next spoke, his voice was quiet, a tone reserved for the scattered moments like this that they managed to claim in the brief flashes of peace. “I wanted to leave this in your care.” He held his lightsaber out to Cody.

Cody stared at the weapon. The sight of it was familiar, dull silver metal, worn with age but infinitely cared for. He could even feel the phantom weight of it in his palm. He dared a glance back up at Obi-Wan; caught the other man’s gaze just as it darted away and fought to hold onto it. Something settled between them, the lightsaber coming to rest gently in his hand.

Obi-Wan returns from his alleged death to find things have shifted between him and Cody. Next time he goes, he leaves his lightsaber with Cody. This leads to another shift.

—

wrote one scene like a month ago and it became a whole fic. many such instances

#also wrote the whole thing whilst listening to lungs by florence + the machine #so do with that what you will #this is also the longest thing i’ve written in a while and i’m quite pleased with it #codywan #tcw #tcw fic #codywan fic #ally’s writings #i hate writing summaries btw guys #how am i meant to know what happened in my fic ??

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gimmehyuck · 2 years

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shoganai | n.yt

summary. (n.) something that cannot be helped, being unable to change or alter a situation.

or alternatively:

when you are sent up the mountain to be a sacrifice for the “greater good”, you knew you’d be falling to your death. you were wrong.

pairing. demon!yuta x human!reader feat. shapeshifter!jungwoo

words. 21.7k (i lost my damn mind writing this, oof)

genre. supernatural romance with bits of humor? i wanted to do this for halloween but it isn’t necessarily spooky so

warnings. blood, death (no major characters dw), one (1) suggestive scene, did i mention blood???, reader gaslights yuta at one point but it’s not srs, jungwoo is a cutie, yuta is a lil grumpy at first, technically slight religious themes?? he’s a demon idk

p.s. happy halloween, stay safe everyone :)

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

“you look beautiful,” your aunt purred to you as she admired your elegant hair she was working on. you didn’t respond vocally, only with a curt nod that you didn’t quite feel. staring at yourself, you couldn’t disagree. you had been staring at your reflection the entire day as she worked over you. your hair pinned perfectly into place with shiny jewels and pearls, and on any other day, you’d have been happy to be the object of such effort.

but not today.

your aunt seemed almost perturbed that you didn’t speak to her, but you didn’t feel the need to. you knew what today was, and you knew no amount of kicking, screaming, or arguing could change what was going to happen. you had already tried, countless times in the weeks leading up to that moment. and now that the day had finally come, you were left with nothing to feel except numbness.

your aunt had refused to meet your eyes the entire day, the one moment she had was by mistake through the mirror, causing her to quickly cover her small smirk with a mockingly sad frown. she even let slip a few tears, and you were impressed with her level of commitment to the act.

you were so detached from the situation that you hadn’t really, truly processed anything. you refused to look at anything else but your eyes in the mirror after that, as she went back to glittering you up as if you were a doll, humming as she did so.

as if you weren’t family to her.

maybe she never truly accepted you as such, maybe she really was happy to do this – her ego boosting tenfold as the one to be chosen to offer you up. finally finishing up with your hair, she placed both hands on your shoulders and leaned over one to smile at you in the mirror.

“come on, dear, let’s not dawdle any longer,” the tight grip on your shoulder unrelenting as she tugged you up. it felt out of body, the walk through the front door.

the sun didn’t feel warm on your face, the coolness of the day not reaching you either. the people of the town were all standing outside the front door, lined up in two lines like an aisle, the only person standing in the middle was the town mayor, who would be escorting you the entire way.

the people were cheering, and you were disgusted at how they were so damn happy. giving you flowers as you passed, falling to their knees in thanks to you, grabbing your hand as you passed. you found it grating, your aunt on the other hand soaking up the glory of the moment, but you still felt nothing.

they were thanking you for walking to your death, after all.

you didn’t believe anything really lived in the mountain that protected the people at the base of it, you only believed the people to be overly superstitious and you always scoffed when discussing the tradition in school. but boys in your school swore that they heard things in the mountains on silent nights and you never listened to their ghost stories, either.

you hated it but never thought you’d be here in this position, you were an orphan living with your aunt after your parents had passed and according to the law of the land, only parents could offer up their daughters.

you thought you were safe.

you never thought your aunt’s ambition to climb the social ladder would be this devious, and so you thought nothing of it when your aunt summoned you to the dining room that dreaded night.

“yes?” you responded as you sat across from her, your uncle, and your cousin at the wooden table.

“we have wonderful, wonderful news! news that i never thought we’d receive.” she was giddy, absolutely ecstatic to be giving you this information, but the looks on the other two at the table told you this wouldn’t actually be good news. you opened your mouth to ask, but she kept going, not letting you get the first syllable out.

“we’ve been chosen! isn’t that fantastic?” and your jaw dropped, eyes instantly darting over to your cousin who sat with her eyes trained on her hands that sat on the table.

“mina, oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you had genuine sadness for her sake, reaching across to take one of her hands in yours and she looked up with tears in her eyes. she only shook her head at you and pulled her hand from yours.

a line forming in between your brows at that, and you looked to your uncle for understanding but he was staring at something over your shoulder, refusing to meet your eyes. that left the only other person at the table, and her grin was wide as she reveled in your confusion.

“it’s not our mina, dear. you have been chosen. it’s an honor, wouldn’t you agree?” and you stood up quickly at that, sending the chair clattering to the floor behind you.

“that’s not possible, that’s against the law.” you argued, fear racing through your veins at this.

and your aunt’s grin turned evil in an instant.

“oh, but it’s already been read. and you know once it’s been read, it’s law. there’s no changing the decision.” your fear left you frozen in place, and your cousin left the table, too upset on your behalf to be around you anymore.

“you can’t do this…” you started to say but the simper your aunt was giving you made your sentence die in your throat.

“come now, y/n. let’s set the table for dinner,” your aunt said as if she hadn’t told you that you only had weeks left to live. at home in the following weeks, she had been the nicest to you in all the years she had been caring for you. once she walked out the front door though, she toned her smile back and made it appear more somber.

like the one she had given you in the mirror, and she walked with you down the makeshift aisle with her hand on your back. the people lined up like this until the edge of town, where the trodden dirt met the forest. a lone trail winding through the woods, the darkness of the forest making you lose sight of the pathway ahead, but you knew it would lead to a spot a good portion up the mountain.

the last two people, the two that stood closest to the trail were your cousin and uncle. your uncle gave you a solemn nod and then mina was suddenly throwing her arms around your neck. she held you tightly, and she cried into your neck. it was funny how she was crying for you, when you didn’t have it in you to do it for yourself.

“i’m so sorry, it should have been me and, please y/n… please forgive us, forgive me.” she sobbed in your ear and you, you, consoled her by wrapping your arms around her in a parting embrace. mina was ripped away from you, your aunt’s face turning red with rage at the sight.

“pull yourself together, you’re embarrassing me!” she hissed, her hands gripping both you and your cousins tight enough to hurt. your cousin looking at you with watery eyes and she stepped back into her place in line. it was tradition that they stay in their lines until you, the town mayor, and one family member had disappeared into the woods.

your aunt trying to prevent another embarrassment, quickly nodded to the mayor and he held up the bright lamp that would be your source of light through the woods – and she ever so roughly pushed you forward.

no time to waste, you sarcastically mused. the first step into the forest felt like taking step to the gallows.

you supposed it was all the same.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

the climb was exhausting, but you were in awe of how the clearing looked. the mouth of the cave seemed almost inviting and the flowers that grew in random patches danced in the breeze.

the mayor walked forward until the edge where the grass kissed the stone and he turned to you expectantly. you didn’t fight the expected push of your aunt, stepping in line with the mayor. he opened his book, the book where you would sign your name under the previous woman chosen before you.

you ignored him as he gave his spiel of how you should be honored to be chosen, how your sacrifice would be spoken of for years to come. how your loss of life would be keeping theirs safe.

you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your throat, the sound coming out faster that you could have stopped it. the sound fully offending the mayor, and enraging your quick-tempered aunt. the pen was thrust in your face for you to take, the mayor frowning disappointedly at you – as if your lack of pride for what you were about to do was a blow to him. he opened the book, and you signed it fluidly.

you couldn’t help but throw the pen back at him – a last act of defiance – and he fumbled for a moment trying to catch it, and your aunt barked your name.

for the thousandth time that day, she gripped your elbow tight enough to cause pain and she dragged you to the mouth of the cave and you stumbled forward. staring into the entrance of the cave, you hesitated, you looked down and just as described, there was the drop – the darkness seemed alive, consuming all light hungrily.

this was it.

you turned around, to say something. anything at all.

but the words were caught behind your teeth. your aunt stood there smugness radiating from her, and she gathered you in her arms in a hug – but she was using the moment to disguise how she wanted to whisper in your ear.

“do tell your mother i said hello, won’t you?” she crooned in your ear and then leaned away from you, not wanting to miss the way your mouth fell open, before she shoved you forward for the last time.

you didn’t even scream as you fell, you just closed your eyes. the drop whipped your hair around your face, and you felt some of the ornaments in your hair coming loose and it made you smile.

you weren’t sure why but something told you to open your eyes, and you saw the moment you went from inky blackness to daylight again, as if you simply fell through clouds. this made your brain jump into overdrive trying to understand how that could be, and then you came to a sudden halt mid-fall and you couldn’t stop the woosh that left your lungs at the impact.

inhaling sharply trying to refill your lungs, you looked up at the shadow of what had stopped your fall and an overly bored face came into focus. he was handsome and you couldn’t deny that, something in the way his dark hair was long enough to curl around his face in a way that framed his dark eyes.

“the hell?” you shrieked, your face the definition of confused.

“mouthy,” he grunted. “i don’t like that.” and in the next moment he dropped you in a heap on the ground. he dusted his hands and turned around to walk away from you.

okay, scratch handsome, he was a dick.

you stumbled to your feet, whipping your head around to take in the sight before you. the “sky” was blue, and there was sunshine but no sun or source to be seen. a waterfall flowed across the distance into a stream that cut across the clearing, and you were thoroughly stunned at the serenity of the scene.

you jogged to catch up to the man that caught you and you stood in front of him, blocking his path. his eyes which were focused on his destination slowly dragged down to look you in the eyes, utterly unamused. he quirked his eyebrow at you expectantly.

“what is this place?” you demanded an answer, sweeping your arms at the place that definitely shouldn’t exist.

“a mountain,” he deadpanned and made to step around you but you moved again to block his path.

“how is all of this possible? i must have fallen over a hundred feet, and there’s daylight.” you were trying desperately understand. he sighed as if he were quickly running out of patience with you.

“magic,” was his curt response, and another move to go around you was made.

“i-.” you opened your mouth, and closed it. taking a deep breath, you stepped once more in his path and he growled, the sound coming deep from his chest. his lips downturned and he crossed his arms.

“what do you want now?” he hissed at you.

“what’s your name?” you asked, matching his stance and crossing your arms.

“yuta. is that all, human?” you shook your head.

“who are you?” you pressed. and yuta moved to step closer to you, bending down just enough to be eye level with you.

his presence taking over your personal space.

“the demon you were just sacrificed to.” you audibly gulped at that and your eyes flew wide, the numbness you had felt before nowhere in sight now when you needed it the most.

“wh-what are you… going to do now?” you asked quietly gripping the fabric of your dress’s sleeve, and the fear didn’t go unnoticed by him. he could smell it all around you.

human emotions were so predictable, and he smirked at that.

“eat you,” you stumbled back a step, staring at his mouth as if you’d see fangs suddenly appear and he chuckled dryly before standing upright again. “that is… if you don’t leave me alone.”

he stepped around you and this time you didn’t step in front of him. you watched him walk into an opening, a door of sorts in the stone wall. once he was out of sight you let out the shaky breath you were holding and tried to run your fingers through your hair but when your fingers snagged on all the baubles still pinned in place in your hair you finally let yourself get upset.

you’d allow it for a moment.

holding back tears you’ve been repressing for weeks, you angrily tore the clips and pins out of your hair. you didn’t care that they were ripping out hairs in the process and you didn’t even flinch at the pricks of pain to your scalp. gathering them all in your hand you angrily threw them one at a time, yelling out a cuss word with every one you chunked across the clearing.

you ran out of cuss words before you did pins, and ran through them once more before you were done and you were breathing heavily, wiping your face of the few tears that snuck their way out of your eyes in the process. you flopped down on the grass, staring in the distance when a voice from behind you made you jump.

“feel better now?” you whipped your head to face the sound only to find yourself inches from the pink nose of a golden retriever. you crawled backwards on your hands away a foot, completely mute in shock. and then the reasoning caught up with you with a vocal ‘ahhh’, and you relaxed.

“i’m not going insane, i’m just dead,” you said aloud to the dog, and he tilted his head slightly. “i’m dead and this is the afterlife and the afterlife comes with an asshole of a man and a talking dog. that’s fine. i can live with that. yep. this all makes sense now.” you were rambling at that point but like you discovered, you were dead.

it didn’t matter.

you reached over and scratched the dog behind the ear. “at least i have a cute dog to keep me company, don’t i? do you have a name?”

“my name is jungwoo,” the dog answered, his tail wagging and you stalled again for a moment. a talking dog would take some getting used to.

“hello jungwoo, i’m y/n.” you stated and continued to scratch behind his ears, a small smile making it’s way to your lips.

the voice of the man – yuta – from earlier called to you from the opening where he had disappeared to before.

“you’re not dead, and jungwoo is not a dog.” he said, voice as gravelly as before. he was leaning against the opening, arms crossed again.

“yes i am… or i’ve gone insane, and,” you pointed at jungwoo, and raised your eyebrows at the demon. “he looks like a dog to me. besides, i thought you said for me to leave you alone, so why are you here?”

yuta pinched the bridge of his nose as if your voice alone gave him a headache and sighed heavily.

“you’re noisy. now jungwoo, stop being an affection whore.”

the answering whine that came from the dogs throat, and the pouty stomp from his back paw was somehow cute and he responded with, “but yutaaaa, you never cuddle or pet me, and she’s doing it without me even asking!”

yuta’s answering cocked eyebrow made jungwoo huff, grumbling something under his breath you couldn’t quite hear. yuta’s snort made you aware that he had, at least.

then jungwoo morphed right in front of your eyes and where the dog was a moment before, sat a man that wore the exact same smile as he had when he was a dog.

“aw,” you sang to him. “you’re just as cute as a human, jungwoo.” and jungwoo laughed happily, and turned to yuta to stick his tongue out childishly.

“she also thinks she’s insane.”

jungwoo turned his head to you, as if that had offended him and you shrugged in answer. you did think you were insane and jungwoo leaned over to pinch you on your side sharply.

“what the hell, jungwoo?” you yelped while rubbing at the area.

“see? you’re not dead. and you’re not insane. you were just sacrificed and your brain is trying to come up with a reason to make it make sense.” at the reminder of your day, you drew your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them. you looked past jungwoo and made eye contact with yuta.

“if you’re going to eat me, can you go ahead and get it over with?” you said lowly, the fight and defiance leaving you, and in between one blink and the next, yuta was crouching in front of you. his elbows on his knees, his head tilted slightly but that’s not what you stared at.

the whites of his eyes were gone, as were his dark brown irises. instead, his eyes were endlessly black, no other color present and you were utterly entranced by the depths of them.

“are you asking me to kill you?” he said, his usual gruff tone turning a little teasing.

“yuta!” jungwoo scolded. “you know you’re not going to eat her, now stop trying to scare her.”

yuta ignored his only friend down in the mountain and continued to stare into your eyes; it was as if he was looking through them into the heart of you, as if he were rummaging around trying to find your soul and you couldn’t blink even if you wanted to.

“interesting,” he murmured and blinked, finally releasing you from the trance and you blinked rapidly. the feeling of what transpired making you feel somehow emptier, and you rubbed at your chest to soothe the hollow feeling and furrowed your eyebrows in anger.

“never,” you ground out, “do that again.” the fire in which you spat the words actually shocked yuta, and you saw in your peripheral vision that jungwoo was following the conversation, head turning side to side almost comically.

“you felt that?” he asked curiously and you nodded.

“interesting,” he repeated as he stood upright. “definitely interesting.”

yuta turned and walked away again, this time seemingly distracted and jungwoo stood too, extending his hand to help you up. you dusted yourself off, and looked at him expectantly.

“come on, i’ll show you around.”

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the cave seemed to be endless, but you discovered the light seemed to be localized to a small radius. various corridors and halls were carved out to be like a giant maze.

“but most of them will lead you right back here.” jungwoo was saying when you seemed alarmed by that fact. you hadn’t seen yuta in a few hours since jungwoo began his tour, and he ended the tour in the kitchen.

“i’m starving,” he complained as he rummaged in the cabinets for something to eat.

“demons need to eat?” you asked, curious. jungwoo mentioning earlier that yuta wouldn’t eat you, and you had been pondering over that ever since. “demons don’t need to eat, but they can. i’m not a demon though,” he said peeking around the open cabinet door to look at you. “i’m a shape-shifter.”

he finally found what snack he was looking and began munching, offering some of it to you which you took cautiously. you nibbled it at first, and when the flavor wasn’t terrible you fully bit into it.

“yuta’s a pretty good cook, huh?” he smiled at you across the island that stood in the middle of the kitchen.

“yuta made this?” surprise evident in your voice.

“shocked that i can?” yuta’s voice came from behind you, and you whipped around clutching your racing heart.

“stop doing that!” you hissed.

“i’ve been trapped here for a century, i’ve gotten good at a lot of things.” he said nonchalantly, and you noticed he seemed to enjoy leaning against walls.

you also noticed it was kind of attractive, and then you mentally slapped yourself.

“plus this place really is magic, it kind of always gives us what we need… which is funny considering it’s cursed…” jungwoo mused from behind you in between munches.

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” yuta grumbled at jungwoo, and then turned his attention to you.

“i came to ask you something,” and you nodded. you didn’t suppose you had anything to hide from the demon.

“why are you here?” the question was rude, but the way he said it made it come off as genuine curiosity.

“i was… chosen,” you chewed on the word like it was sour. “to be the sacrifice to appease whatever lives in the mountain, so… you.”

“yes, i know that much. i’m asking why you’re here now though, when no one has fallen in thirty years. i sent jungwoo ages ago to demand the towns to stop throwing random women into my home.” and your jaw dropped at that knowledge, your mind reeling.

“what?” you whispered, eyes searching for the lie in yuta’s face and it was set in a straight line.

“i have no reason to lie to you, human.” as if he read your mind, but you didn’t dwell on that. you were too focused on the news… because this was… impossible, wasn’t it? you gripped the counter tightly to steady you as you lost focus, mind reeling as it bounced from thought to thought.

it had been taught to you in school, every girl was always mentally prepared to possibly be offered up like a pig to the slaughter. they tried to disillusion every girl that it would be an honor, and of course it never worked. but this was unnecessary? you didn’t need to be thrown to your death…

had your aunt known the entire time? could she have been so evil? her last words coming to the front of your mind that you hadn’t had time to fully process yet.

‘do tell your mother i said hello, won’t you?’ and you couldn’t… you couldn’t breathe now. certainly she hadn’t meant it in that way, she couldn’t have… but the smile she gave you, the evil twist of her lips told you what you already knew.

something was pulling you from your thoughts and you lethargically realized you were being shaken, being pulled fully back to the present to focus with jungwoo’s concerned face taking up the majority of your vision.

“you need to breathe slowly, okay?” he commanded you gently.

you realized your breathing had become as erratic as your heartbeat, and even though you were actively trying to, you couldn’t calm down and it only made your breathing come in shorter and your eyes filled with more and more panic.

yuta gently pushed jungwoo aside and he was the only thing you could see now, your only point of focus and you let that tether you, let him be your anchor. his dark hair, his slight frown, and his once again somehow beautiful black eyes took up your space, and then slowly as if to not spook you or make you panic further, he brought his hand up to rest on your forehead, slowly moving it down to cover your eyes and they fluttered closed.

the sensation was immediate, gentle calm traveled from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet in soft waves until you could feel your heart beat become steady again. yuta removed his hand from your eyes, and his eyes were back to his normal brown. you thought you saw a flash of concern on his face but it was gone in a moment and you were sure you imagined it.

“thank you,” you whispered, eyes fixated on his now that he was this close. you found them pretty, actually. yuta stepped away from your personal space at that, at the vulnerability he saw there.

“humans are strange creatures, losing control of themselves like that.” he said coarsely.

you bristled at the insult and you opened your mouth to retort, to take back your thanks but jungwoo jumped in between you two.

“yuta don’t be an ass,” he said to the other man who only snorted before turning to you. “are you okay?”

“i’m…” you hesitated, then decided on the truth. “i think i just realized that my aunt tried to kill me with this… and i think… i think she may have killed my mom too.” both of the men stood stunned in shock, one far more expressive than the other. when they didn’t respond, you carried on.

“we… we were never told that we didn’t have to send someone up here. we never got word of that… and… my aunt – see, where i’m from, this whole thing is treated as this huge thing, something to be proud of. we’re doing our part in helping the people, we’re a hero, and the family that offers up the sacrifice is heavily compensated.”

“that’s… wow. horrible, especially since we never really asked for people to be tossed down here in the first place, there’s no way back out and it’s – wait, why do you think she killed your mom?” jungwoo questioned, tilting his head the way that he did as a dog.

“just… something she said to me before shoving me over the edge,” you said softly. jungwoo took that as you not ready to fully talk about it yet and accepting that as that.

“can i ask you something, then?” your question was directed at yuta, and his sole focus being on you was answer enough to go on.

“what happened to the other girls before you told them to stop sending them?” and that question finally evoked a strong emotion from yuta, you couldn’t tell if it was rage or sadness, or an even mix of both.

“they died,” was his short answer before he stormed out of the room.

died.

not killed.

not eaten.

you turned to jungwoo and his face showed just the sadness.

“he’s not heartless, he’s actually the opposite i swear. it’s just, he’s just… he feels guilty, i think.” his voice was solemn, feeling the need to defend his best friend, his eyes giving that of a kicked puppy.

“what do you mean?” jungwoo’s face turned somewhat pensive at your question.

“y/n, i need you to fully understand. there are parts of this mountain, alleys and corridors that you must stay away from. we’re… we’re not the only things living down here. and it would always either take them, or they would be thrown from the depths completely empty. a shell of what they were, something out of nightmares. so it’s not off-limits in the sense that you’re not allowed, it’s off-limits in the sense that once you’re too far deep, we can’t guarantee that we can get you back. we’ve never been able to before.” his warning was grave, and you took it seriously as you nodded. jungwoo continued, “that’s why he feels guilty, and seems a bit grumpy. he would try to keep them safe, and he failed every time. it felt like he lost a friend over and over. finally, he gave up altogether.” your heart ached in understanding for him, for them both.

and as you sat for a moment while you absorbed the information, jungwoo watched you. he was all too aware of the fact that yuta hadn’t gone very far as he explained things to you. jungwoo had been waiting for years for an excuse to say these words in a way that yuta could hear, he knew this had been eating him alive over time. yuta was a demon, yes, but jungwoo knew he was far from heartless like so many assumed of the damned.

“he can’t blame himself for their deaths if they didn’t die by his hand,” you thought aloud. and jungwoo was surprised at your response.

“i say the same thing,” he replied.

“but… why were we suggested to be tossed down here anyway?” the question arose and jungwoo shrugged at that.

“i don’t remember us ever asking for that, i think it had something to do with the curse but i’m not sure. there are some things that i still don’t know…” you didn’t take notice of the slight hesitation in which he gave his answer.

you were lost in thought for a long while at all the information you learned in such a short time, but something yuta said bubbled up to the surface of your mind and you whirled on jungwoo.

“yuta said he sent you out to tell them, so you can leave! why can’t you let me go?” excitement at the idea of possible freedom and his face fell at that.

“the curse only allows me to go so far – and there are different type of shape-shifters. i’m descendant of the ones who can only transform into creatures with four legs. and i’m not… strong enough to become anything bigger than a dog. i’m sorry.” and you shrugged casually.

“that’s okay, it was a long shot.”

jungwoo still looked upset on your behalf and you gently pushed his shoulder. “i’m okay with this, really.”

jungwoo narrowed his eyes at you. “you’re awfully well adjusted to everything… you’re not still thinking you’re insane, are you?”

you laughed and shook your head, then lifting one shoulder slightly, you responded. “i was orphaned as a child; i’ve been alone my entire life; i had three weeks to come to terms with being a snack for some creature. so i guess i just know it could be worse. i could be dead.”

he perked up at that, “that’s some kind of perspective, there.”

jungwoo was somehow happy that you were so fucked up that the company of them was an upgrade from what you were used to.

he just really hoped they could keep you alive.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

a week had passed since you fell, and you hadn’t really seen yuta. a pass here or there but he mostly just nodded or completely ignored your presence and it was starting to bother you. you huffed as much to jungwoo while you laid in the grass – you found that you enjoyed watching the magic clouds come and go, still baffled by how it worked.

“he doesn’t want to get close to you,” jungwoo answered, then he pointed out a cloud that looked a little like a heart, and you smiled, watching as it lost it’s shape moments later.

“was he close to the other girls that he… lost?” you asked.

“he wasn’t… close, per se. but he was friendly, he can be friendly, i promise. none of the girls lasted longer than a few weeks though.” jungwoo shrugged. then turned his head to squint suspiciously his eyes at you. “why? are you wanting to get close to him?” you felt the blood rise to your cheeks, and you sat up.

“that’s… that’s not what i meant! i’m… i mean i’m going to be down here until i grow old and die, he’ll have to stop pretending i exist eventually, right? i was just – i was really just curious, is all.” you stammered, and jungwoo chuckled at your expense.

“it would be a relief if he did though, might get closer to breaking the curse.” and you laughed, imagining the fairytales you were told as a child.

“is the curse broken by the power of friendship or something?” you said a tad sarcastically.

“or something.” yuta’s smooth voice came from your other side and you squeaked in surprise. sighing out in annoyance, you turned to look at him.

“i thought i asked you to stop doing that,” you said, taking in the fact that he appeared laying down, arms behind his head as if he was been there the whole time. maybe he had been, maybe invisibility is another demon thing. you didn’t know how any of this worked.

“no, you demanded i stop. there’s a difference.” he smirked at that, and you were shocked by the change in expression. it wasn’t the sarcastic smirk from before, this was warmer.

playful, even.

remembering that you had to respond, you cleared your throat.

“if i asked you to stop, would you?”

“mmm,” he thought it over for a moment, then turned his head to look at you and simply say, “nope.”

you groaned, rolling your neck back to look upwards, “but why?”

“because jungwoo doesn’t get startled anymore and i think it’s funny.” and jungwoo sighed at the mention of his name.

“it becomes predictable after awhile, trust me.” jungwoo said to you, cutting his eyes at yuta as he remembered the literal years it took for him to stop jumping every time yuta randomly appeared in front of him.

he didn’t mention the years part to you though.

“yeah but at this rate, i’m going to die of a heart attack because of him before whatever lives in the mountain can even get the chance to try to kill me.” you threw your hands up in exasperation and didn’t notice that jungwoo froze, glancing over at yuta to gauge his reaction at the nonchalance of how you spoke about it.

what jungwoo saw made his jaw drop entirely, and you noticed it from the corner of your eye. following his line of sight, you turned to look at yuta and you also froze.

he was smiling, and you felt the traitorous blush rise to your cheeks again because dear god, he was so pretty when he smiled.

“you should smile more often, yuta.” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and still smiling, he hummed.

“i’ll try,” he responded.

you and jungwoo were both pleased with that answer but for entirely different reasons.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

“hey woo?” you asked from the edge of the stream, your legs resting comfortably in the slow moving water. you had been watching him splash around as an otter for forty-five minutes before you couldn’t help but ask the question that you had been curious about.

his head popped out of the water, and he let the stream carry him down to you.

“yes?” using his little paws he scurried up your legs to curl himself in your lap. without thinking you brought your hands up to pet him.

“do you ever wish you could turn into creatures that can fly instead?”

“mmm,” he thought for a moment. “no, the idea of having a beak freaks me out.”

you snorted a laugh at that, “you’ve never wanted to feel free like that though?”

“i feel freedom differently, like by getting to run fast, or swim.” and you nodded in understanding but then he asked, “why? do you wish you could fly?”

you shrugged, “i think i would like to experience flying - not falling. i’ve already experienced that.”

“well if you wanna see what it’s like, why not ask yuta?” and you balked at that.

“so yuta can fly and teleport? why do demons get the fun stuff? i want something cool.”

“technically it’s just levitating, i can’t get very high and i definitely can’t do it for very long.” yuta said, standing in a way that had him halfway over your body. his shadow blocking the daylight. you tilted your head back and narrowed your eyes at the man. “and humans do have something cool, it’s called mortality.”

“mortality? oh wow, we can die. how spectacular!” you snarked, rolling your eyes. he placed his hands on either side of your face, squishing your cheeks and effectively silencing you.

“being able to die is a gift, living forever can drive you to insanity. especially if you’re alone.”

“but you’re not alone anymore,” jungwoo sang from his position in your lap. “you have meee.”

yuta’s answering smile made your heart skip, and you pulled his hands away from your cheeks so you could avoid looking at him and his pretty face, “i have no choice now, do i?”

and you looked at jungwoo just in time to watch his little otter face pout dramatically, and gasp. his little paw came up to his chest and he turned his nose up at yuta.

“don’t be like that, you know i’m grateful for you.”

“you could stand to say it more, jerk.”

and you decided to butt in then, “yeah! you jerk!” fully taking jungwoo’s side in this mock argument.

yuta raised his eyebrow at you, “oh?” he stood fully upright then, the shade he was providing moving away with him. “and here i was… gonna show you what it felt like to fly, but alas…” he trailed off dramatically, slowly walking away. “i’m a jerk.”

and careful to not jostle jungwoo too much, you scrambled to your feet, water sloshing to the bank in your hasty movements to rush towards him a few steps.

“wait, no! that was all jungwoo, not me!” you pouted dramatically and had to fight off your smile when jungwoo huffed, “now you’re both jerks!”

“that’s not what i heard though,” yuta countered, sauntering back over to you, a smirk on his lips. you didn’t walk towards him as he approached, but you also didn’t move away. he was barely six inches from you now, jungwoo grumbling in your arms at him.

“really? are you sure? where’s your proof?”

“you just turned on jungwoo, i’m sure he could be my witness.”

you jerked your head down to make eye contact with the small shape-shifter and your eyes were threatening, “jungwoo definitely didn’t hear anything, did you jungwoo?” his answering squeak, followed by him burying his head into your shirt was all that you needed before lifting your head and throwing your own smirk at yuta.

“see? no proof.” and yuta couldn’t help the smile even as he sighed.

after long moments, his small smile grew into a wide grin, as if he were keeping a secret from you and you raised your eyebrows at the expression.

“why are you making that face?”

his didn’t verbally answer, only making a point to look down, and then back up at you expectantly. you followed his lead and when you looked down you gasped. you didn’t know how you hadn’t noticed, maybe you had been a little too lost in the way his smile lit up his face, but somehow you were not firmly planted on the ground any longer.

instead, both you and yuta were feet off the ground, high enough that if you fell, it would hurt.

you felt a little unsteady in your shock and yuta reached forward to take hold of your elbows, your arms still cradling a currently oblivious jungwoo, and he closed the distance between you both. you were now as close to each other as you could get without squishing jungwoo and he was gazing down at you, and even if you could, you didn’t want to break the eye contact.

“do you feel like you thought you would?” he asked softly, his eyes flickering down to your lips, happy with the excited smile he saw there. you weren’t sure if you were answering the question about feeling free from being airborne, or if you were answering your internal question that you had been asking yourself for days in regards to him.

“yes,” you whispered, answering both questions with one word. his eyes crinkled, the satisfaction from your answer shining on his face.

you meant it when you said you thought he should smile more, and you couldn’t help that you liked that you had been the cause of it.

“does what feel like she thought it would?” came jungwoo’s voice from the crook of your arm. he had finally poked his head out to try and see what the conversation was about, and when he realized that you were no longer on the ground he instantly started squirming.

“let me down, let me down, so help me if you drop me!” he was yelling but his voice was so small in his otter body that it did not intimidate either of you in the least, instead you giggled at him and started the pet him soothingly.

“if you don’t calm down,” you crooned to him sweetly, “i may drop you on accident.”

the shape-shifter stilled instantly.

“oh… i think he fainted.” yuta realized after a second, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the situation.

yuta glanced back down at you and he couldn’t help but think about how lovely you looked when you were content, and that you should smile more often, too.

then realizing his own thoughts, he shoved the thought back down into the box it popped out of.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

the slight personality change in yuta didn’t revert back to what it was before, grumpy and aloof, even though you expected it to. it wasn’t a complete 180 to constant friendship, but you’d take the 90 degrees of change where you could, especially the smiles that came with it.

another week had passed, and you spent most of it with jungwoo. yuta popping up more and more in random times, always making you jump out of your skin. you were thoroughly enjoying the friendship they gave you that you never had before. it made you laugh at the idea that humans never treated you as kindly as a shape-shifter did, and occasionally a demon when he decided to pop up.

your aunt had taken you in, sure, but it wasn’t out of the kindness of her heart and you knew that now. your uncle wasn’t mean to you, but mostly treated you as if you were invisible. mina was the closest thing you could call friend, but you knew it was mostly her guilt that made her act the way she did with you.

you lost both parents by the age of six, your father first and then your mother. you had been young when it happened, but you still remember watching your father fade away from the sickness that made it’s way through the town. and your mother… she had just disappeared. her body found some time later after her disappearance, and you weren’t given proper time to grieve.

at this point, you didn’t think you needed it anymore. twenty-ish years had passed and that was enough to bury everything deep enough that you didn’t see the point in bringing it back up. for your sake, mostly.

it was yuta who made you realize that there actually was a point in it, also for your sake.

you had found a random room to escape to, the random door which had previously been a bathroom was now a room with every sort of hobby you could imagine. books, paint brushes, pencils, you even found a basket of yarn and knitting needles, which had a beginner’s book placed perfectly on top and you, well… you had years. might as well start somewhere, hobbies did tend to pass the time.

sitting cross legged in the oversized velvet chair, you propped the book open in your lap while you fiddled with the yarn and needles.

“you’re doing that wrong,” yuta’s voice came from the across the room and you lifted your head to see him standing in the doorway, his casual stance of holding up the wall as per usual.

“oh, and you’re an expert at knitting, i assume?” you smiled at him, and he crossed the room. pulling the chair next to yours around to face you, he plopped down in the chair.

“i told you, i’ve gotten good at a lot of things.” he said with a wink, before he softly took your hands in his.

you were trying to ignore both the warmth of his hands, and the warmth of your cheeks and failing miserably. his hands went through the motions of the loops you were trying to learn with yours, but you couldn’t even focus on that.

instead, you studied him, the way his hair fell in his face, and the movement of his mouth as he explained where exactly you went wrong. when you didn’t respond to him, he looked up to find you utterly in awe of him, mouth slightly agape.

“you’re not paying attention,” if he was scolding you, it was too gentle to mean anything.

“yes i am,” you argued back, eyes dancing between his.

“then what did i just say?” he retorted smartly, and you searched your brain for the first thing that made sense.

“knit one, purl two,” you rushed out and he laughed, the sound just as captivating as his face.

“not quite, but close enough,” and you shook your head then, fully focusing on his hands that had now stilled with yours in between his.

the realization that you didn’t want him to move his hands from yours struck you, and then you mentally smacked yourself. after an internal struggle you finally tugged your hands from his grasp, and coughed awkwardly.

“um, so it goes like this?” you asked a bit shy now and yuta sat back in his chair, and nodded. he watched you for some time, admiring the way that even though he knew you were distracted by him, you still caught on rather quickly.

then his voice broke the comfortable silence that had settled over you.

“you know if you don’t deal with it eventually, it’ll eat you alive.” it was cryptic and you lifted your head to look at him quizzically.

“i’m sorry?” you asked, and he sat forward again.

“you’ve been here two weeks, and i haven’t seen you cry except for half a second the first day. not saying you need to be emotional, but… i think jungwoo cries more than you.” he played it off as a joke, but you didn’t know how to answer him right away.

“i… i don’t think it’s necessary, i guess.” and you found the needles to be awfully interesting.

“and why not? you lost your parents and you were lied to. your aunt tried to quite literally murder you, and now you’re stuck down here with jungwoo and i for the rest of your short human life, never really being free again. you’ll die down here, instead of getting to live a normal human existence. you’ll never speak to another human again. your aunt is going to get away with –“ he listed off and would have kept going if you hadn’t cut him off with a glare.

“i know all of that!” you snapped, and he leaned back for the second time, crossing his ankle over his knee.

“then why aren’t you upset?”

“because what will that change?” you cried, voice raising slightly. “i’m not getting out of here so what will getting angry or sad do for me now? i can’t go in the past and change anything, i learned that lesson a long time ago, yuta. i can’t bring my parents back, i can’t get answers from my aunt, i can’t get out of this mountain even if i wanted to, so please, tell me! what good will it do me now to dwell on it?”

he didn’t say anything for a long moment, giving you the chance to let it out. you didn’t realize that in between one sentence and the next that you actually had started to cry. the warm tears dripped from your cheeks on to your hands and you brought your hands up to wipe angrily at them, cursing your body for betraying you like this.

“you need to dwell on it so you can let it go. if you don’t, it’ll eat you alive.” he repeated, you knew he was trying to be kind in his own way, to maybe be supportive, but you hadn’t prepared your heart or mind for this today.

so, like a scared and cornered dog, you bit back instead.

“and when are you going to dwell on yours as well, huh?” you said, tears still steadily sliding down your cheeks to now land on the book below. “when are you going to deal with your guilty conscience for all the girls that have died down here, being sacrificed for a curse they had no part of?” and yuta inhaled slowly, closing his eyes.

“i’ll live for a millennia longer than you will, i’ll be sure to deal with it once you’re dead.” the warmth from before was gone, his eyes hard as they glared at you.

the stare down between you two lasted for only a few seconds before he got up from his chair and left the room without a word, the door shutting behind him with a thud that echoed around the room.

in an outburst of anger, you threw the knitting book against the door he had just left through and screamed. you wiped at your tears again and sat back fully in the chair, and sulked for a moment. you let your breathing even out and the realization dawned on you that he was right.

even just dealing with everything for those few moments, allowing yourself to really get angry, to get upset… to feel it.

you needed it.

and now, you blew out a long breath as you ran your fingers through your hair, you also needed to apologize.

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it took two days to finally corner yuta, but you did so in the kitchen. jungwoo had tipped you off that he’d be in there and you didn’t waste any time. you barged into the kitchen and he looked up, surprised to see you in there. you weren’t sure why he seemed shocked by your presence, when he was the one avoiding you.

“what-!” he started, you were sure to probably say something sarcastic to you, the soft moment in the craft room between you - before the anger derailed it - probably long forgotten.

“i’m sorry!” you blurted out, before he could get another word out. “i’m sorry for the way i blew up at you. you didn’t deserve the things that i said to you, that wasn’t fair of me and you were right.”

yuta opened and closed his mouth for a moment, and you felt this was probably the first time in a long time that the demon had been speechless.

“i shouldn’t have pressed,” he finally settled on, and you shook your head.

“you were trying to help me, thank you.”

he shrugged half-heartedly, seemingly embarrassed by what had transpired.

“you were right too,” he finally confessed. “we both seem to have things we need to let go of.”

the smile you shared with each other was all the forgiveness that was needed.

then the moment was effectively ruined when jungwoo appeared right beside you, clapping slowly. his sudden presence making you jump a foot in the air, hand over your heart as it raced and you glared angrily at him. you really needed to get used to this sooner rather than later, for your hearts sake.

“i love to see personal growth, don’t you?” jungwoo remarked happily, and you punched him in the arm at that making him gasp in offense, rubbing where you hit to make the pain fade quicker.

you grumbled at him but he ignored it entirely, throwing an arm around your shoulders, shaking you slightly in his excitement.

“just makes me so proud to see it,” he fake sobbed, and yuta’s face was the definition of unamused. “i feel like a mom, my babies maturing so beautifully.” and at that yuta threw the spoon he was holding at jungwoo’s head, hitting him squarely in the forehead, and jungwoo’s smile fell from his face instantly.

“okay, for that, you’re going to have to make me my favorite now.” and you snorted at the way yuta rolled his eyes.

you were happy to be past this. this is what you could only assume what a family felt like, they… they felt like family.

you could get used to that. perhaps you already had. two weeks in and you knew you wouldn’t willingly give it up.

your inner musings were interrupted when you heard jungwoo calling your name, and you looked up to find him and yuta already staring at you.

“sorry, what?”

“i asked what your favorite things are, because i’ll force yuta to make it for you too.” jungwoo said as he hooked his thumb over his shoulder to point it at said cook.

“hey!” yuta was indignant, he was wanting to make something for himself, not for the entire mountain.

“i don’t really have a favorite, but you can’t go wrong with cookies,” you proposed with a shrug of your shoulders.

“oh, the human wants cookies,” yuta mocked, twisting his face in playful annoyance.

at that you decided to tease him. you walked over to the counter and hopped on top, swinging your legs as you did so.

“i do, in fact, i want five different flavors of cookies. and not even remotely burnt, or i’ll throw a tantrum,” you sang, and yuta turned around to gawk at you. jungwoo coming to lean against the counter beside you, enjoying the banter.

“five?!” yuta exclaimed, and you nodded slowly.

“yup, five.”

“you’ll get one and you’ll like it,” he griped, and you stuck out your bottom lip. the exaggerated expression making jungwoo cover his mouth with his hand to try and muffle his laughs.

“three then?” you argued cutely, and yuta and he rolled his eyes at your antics.

“one.” his lips were drawn in, trying to avoid laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“but… please…” you gave your best impression of jungwoo’s puppy eyes and yuta caved instantly.

“fine! i’ll make three different kinds of cookies,” he said throwing his hands up, before bringing his finger to point at you. “but only one will be your favorite. the others will be mine and jungwoo’s.”

jungwoo snickered at the tone, and yuta directed his finger to point at jungwoo then.

“and you, will only be getting this and nothing else, don’t get greedy.” jungwoo only nodded, happy with anything that yuta made that fed him. he really wasn’t picky.

he could say with confidence, greed was not his sin.

jungwoo eventually hopped on the counter too, and you both watched as yuta walked back and forth across the kitchen, the island he was standing at slowly turning into a mess of flour and sugar and other ingredients strewed over the counter space. eventually jungwoo yawned and turned himself into a cat, curling up in your lap that seemed to be his favorite resting spot.

you pet him absentmindedly as you admired the way yuta worked. it was funny to you that this scary demon who was trapped in this cave could do the most domestic things.

knitting.

baking.

what was next, gardening?

yuta’s hands and arms were covered in flour and you noticed that he kept tilting his head back to adjust his hair, the way it was falling in his eyes obviously bothering him, but couldn’t push it back without getting the powder everywhere.

“yuta?” you called softly, not wanting to disturb the comfortable silence nor the sleeping cat in your lap.

“hmm?” was his reply.

“is your hair getting in your way?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, “it’s fine, little human.”

you bit your lip for a moment, took a deep breath and then offered, “would you like me to tie it up for you, since you’re covered in flour?”

yuta didn’t say anything for a long moment, his shoulders a little stiff and then he relaxed them before he turned around. he closed the distance between you in a step, coming to stop directly in front of you.

you were now almost eye level with the man, the counter giving you the smallest height advantage.

you waited for him to turn around, but he was gazing at you expectantly. fighting off the smile that threatened to appear on your lips, you brought your hands up to run your fingers through his hair as a makeshift brush. you felt his eyes on your face, and when you glanced over you saw he seemed to be studying you closely, his eyes trailing across your nose to your mouth.

when you noticed his gaze land on your lips, you quickly looked back at your hands. you gathered his hair in your hand and it was enough to make a small ponytail, and you saw from the corner of your eye that yuta had finally stopped gazing at you and had closed his eyes. now that they were closed, you took your turn to take in the features of your face as you pulled the tie from your pocket, the extra strip of cloth you carried around in case you needed to pull your own hair up.

he looked peaceful when his eyes were closed, and although you preferred his smile over anything else, the serenity on his face was a close second.

“and… there.” you whispered as you tied the fabric tightly so none of his hairs would fall loose back into his eyes. you went to pull your hands back but froze midair when yuta opened his eyes again, his eyes peering intently into yours.

again, it was like he was searching for something and you noticed the second he found it, his eyes lit up slightly and you didn’t know why but it caused you to smile.

he noticed your lips again as they turned up slightly, and as if he finally realized for the first time how close he was to you, he coughed and stepped back to create space between you.

the human is dangerous when she looks like that, he thought.

“thanks.” he said shortly, moment gone entirely and he turned his back on you, continuing to work on the food.

“you’re welcome,” you grumbled and put your hands back to work petting jungwoo softly, and you looked down to see him already looking up at you.

then he winked at you, and you immediately narrowed your eyes at him.

“i will shove you to the floor,” you mouthed silently to him.

jungwoo’s small cat body just shook with silent laughter.

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you were shivering, the room feeling as if it were below freezing and your thin set of pajamas did nothing to fight off the bite of the cold. you rubbed your hands together and tried to breathe hot air on your hands to warm them, but your breath came out cold too. you looked around your room, and you realized this wasn’t the room in which you fell asleep in.

the bed was missing, as was the nightstand that stood beside it. the room you were in now was empty, the only thing in it was you.

the walls were lined in floor to ceiling mirrors and you could only see your reflection no matter which way you turned. you didn’t know how you got here, all you knew was that you wanted to leave. you walked to the wall and ran your hands along the mirror hoping to find a secret handle or exit but the mirrors were so cold it burned you and you jerked your hand back to cradle it against your chest, you couldn’t help the weak whimper that left your lips.

the silent room was eerie and you wanted to leave.

“y/n,” a voice was suddenly saying behind you and you whipped around to see nothing at all.

“wh-wh-who are y-you?” you called through chattering teeth, your entire body chilled to the bone now. you remembered learning something about dying from the cold in school but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember a single thing on how to fight it.

“who else would i be?” the voice whispered in your ear this time, and when you whirled around the owner of the voice was still there. standing directly in between you and the mirror was a face you hoped you’d never see again.

the smile that rested on your aunt’s face sent chills down your spine, this time from fear instead of the cold that already consumed you – but anger shoved the fear aside.

“ho-how are y-you here?” you couldn’t stop your teeth from chattering no matter how hard you tried, but you tried to give your voice as much bite as you could, wanting to sound strong in front of her.

but the though that you had no clue how you got here constantly sat at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t terrified.

“’ho-how are y-you here?’” she taunted, reaching up to tug at a strand of your hair. then she crooned, “i’m here to finish the job, because no one in your family knows how to die properly the first time i try.”

“th-they won’t let y-you,” you sniped, but body betraying you by taking a half step back. and your aunt pouted at you, mock understanding on her face.

“oh, you think they care about you? the demon and the shape-shifter? you think they care about what happens to you? you’re a means to an end and nothing more. a free ticket out of here,” and you shook your head, in denial of what she spat at you. she barked out a laugh, before thrusting out her hand to grab you by the throat. she flung you around to press you roughly against the wall, you clawed at her hands to try and get them to release you. you were struggling to breathe.

“i’m no… no different from the other girls that were th-thrown down here, there’s no escaping the m-mountain,” you said against your better judgement, trying to fight down the panic that came from not being able to breathe deeply.

“sweetie, you’re the only one who is different, it’s in your blood,” she disclosed.

“yu…ta… please…” you wheezed hoping that maybe he did care enough to help you, vision growing dark around the edges.

“you should ask your precious yuta about the curse. ask him and see if he really cares about you then.” she sneered, face inches from yours.

you gasped awake, yuta yelling your name to try to get through to you. you were standing in the clearing, dull moonlight washing over the area making it look bleak but it threw light on yuta’s face, revealing the look of fear he wore. his worried eyes searched your tear-filled ones frantically, and you could spot jungwoo over his shoulder wearing the same look. you were still cold, and if you were honest – very scared, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of your aunt being over your shoulder, being in your face.

your body betraying you once again, you felt your face crumple. you hid yourself in yuta’s chest then, your hands covering your face as you cried.

he froze, unfamiliar with how to respond to the sudden human physical affection when he saw jungwoo motioning behind him, his hands enclosing in slow motion as if he were hugging an invisible person. he mouthed the words, ‘hug. her. back.’ and he emphasized each word with a jab in your direction and yuta finally got the hint.

his arms enveloped you gently and you buried yourself further into his arms, and he rested his cheek on the top of your head as he swayed you slightly.

“you’re safe now, it’s okay. i’m – we’re here now.” he murmured to you softly, still unsure of what just happened. all he knew was that he was asleep, not that he needed to be but it passed time, and then he felt the tug of being summoned – something he hadn’t felt in a very long time – and suddenly he was standing in front of you, jungwoo getting there a few moments after him. you were grasping at something in front of you, your lips blue as if you had been out in the snow, arms struggling like you were being strangled. he heard you say please, the desperation in your voice leading him to act. the second he touched your arms you woke up with a gasp and he had never felt more scared to see the fear in your eyes.

he decided then that he never wanted to see that look from your face again.

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from that night on, you refused to sleep alone (more like you weren’t allowed to). yuta and jungwoo would take turns watching over you as you slept. usually jungwoo would sleep at your feet, curled up in whatever form was cuddliest. some nights a cat, others a dog. on nights jungwoo didn’t, you slept in yuta’s room effectively kicking the demon out of his own bed.

he didn’t mind.

the bruises that showed up on your throat the next day was enough for him to make sure you didn’t go to sleep alone.

you were so spooked by the events that you hardly spoke the next day, and the far away look thoroughly worried both of the men you shared the mountain with. eventually you went back to your normal, playful self but yuta wasn’t convinced, you acted somewhat more reserved than you had before. he didn’t miss the way you’d wince every time you swallowed as the bruises on your neck healed. you didn’t tell them of what your nightmare was about, or even drop hints. that was until the night it was yuta’s turn to keep an eye on you.

you were laying on your side, blankets pulled up to your chin as you watched him read a book. his hair was tied back again and you watched as the shadows flickered across his face from the light the fire gave off.

“i can feel you staring at me,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off of his page. you were completely unaware to the fact that he had read the same line for the past five minutes.

“will you tell me about the curse?” you asked, voice small. he looked up at that, eyebrows drawn together.

“why are you asking about that?”

“it… it’s nothing.” you said breaking eye contact with him and he shook his head.

“no, i’m – i’m not saying that because i don’t want to talk about it, i’ll tell you. ’m just curious about what brought this up.”

“it’s… it’s what was said in my… my dream...” he nodded, and scooted his chair a little closer to the edge of the bed.

“before we were cursed here in this mountain, us demons roamed free. they probably do still and you just didn’t know it. i enjoyed traveling then, country to country, town to town. it was in one of these towns that surrounds this mountain that i stayed at a moment to long, i think. a woman fell in love with me, and, well… i didn’t do the same. i broke her heart, but i didn’t realize she was a witch and so she cursed me to this mountain. i’ve been here ever since.” and you could only stare at him, then slowly sat up.

“you mean to tell me... you and jungwoo… and now me… are trapped here because you rejected some woman?” you were incredulous at that.

“well… not just any woman, a pretty powerful witch. but… yeah.”

“the fuck?”

“yeah, that was my response then too.”

“how do you break the curse?” you asked, and yuta shook his head then.

“it’s very old blood magic, something you need not concern yourself with.” yuta’s voice was soft, and you couldn’t help the flutter you felt in your stomach at the look he gave you. you dropped it for the time being, laying back down and pulling the blanket back up. the fluttery feeling not going away even as you closed your eyes.

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you were freezing again, the room of mirrors back after not seeing it for over a week. you wanted to cry at the first glimpse of it, panic overriding your brain. you turned in circles, and when you whirled around the second time, there she was.

“did you miss me?” she grinned as you shook your head, this time she was circling you like a hyena. “did you ask him about the curse?” when you didn’t respond to her, actively trying to keep the angry look plastered on your face, she snaked around to your front to peer into your eyes – a weird malicious sense of happiness on her face.

“you did… oh, and he gave you every answer but the one you needed… it’s a shame.”

“what are you talking about?” you growled at her, you never were fond of riddles.

“i’m talking about the point where he mentioned blood magic,” she said as she suddenly gripped you by the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her face, her long nails scratching you along your collarbone, “and about how he doesn’t have the one piece of information to prove he won’t care about you in the end.”

your eyes searching hers frantically for answers, and you finally asked, “what information? what is it?”

your aunt pulled you close, directly against her cheek as she put her lips to your ear and whispered, “your last name is a very old one, no? what was it again?” and then she threw you both away from her and out of sleep at the same time. you gasped awake, fully upright once more, and yuta became alert instantly in the same chair he was in when you fell asleep.

“what happened? are you okay?” he was by your side on the bed in an instant, placing a finger under your chin to make you look up at him from your hands so he could search your face for any marks.

“it’s… in these dreams i keep seeing my aunt. she… she tells me that even though I’m here and you seem happy that i’m here, neither you nor jungwoo really care if I’m alive or dead…” you trailed off, wrapping your arms around yourself, you didn’t know why this shook you so deeply but then the thought filtered through, it’s because you care about them, and how they view you. you focused on yuta when you saw that he was already shaking his head before you had even finished your sentence.

“that’s not true… we care. you know we care about you.” you nodded slowly.

“i…” you started and then, remembering the last thing she said to you, confusion filling your voice as you whispered your last name aloud.

“what?” yuta asked, he heard you, of course he did, but… he wanted to be sure he heard correctly.

you repeated your last name again, this time louder – looking up at him. “does that name mean anything to you?”

and the look that crossed yuta’s face was indiscernible. that wasn’t promising for you.

“it was… no, why do you know that name?” yuta asked, too calm to be reassuring. “how do you know that name?”

when you didn’t answer right away, yuta asked again, his voice coming out more stressed that time, almost pleading and you didn’t know what for.

“y/n, how do you know that name?” and the direct eye contact you made with him, told him the answer before your mouth did.

“because that’s my name… my last name.” yuta inhaled sharply, eyes wide. pulling his hands back and leaning away from you as if you burned him. he stared at you, his eyes wide as if he didn’t recognize you for moment and he seemed upset, maybe even angry. then he was out of the room in the next moment, slamming the door behind him loud enough to make you jump.

this must have been what your aunt had meant. but you still didn’t know what it meant.

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the answer to what it meant came three days later. it didn’t surprise you that yuta didn’t keep you company after his outburst. you weren’t sure why he was so upset, and it bothered you not knowing but the demon hid well when he didn’t want to be found. jungwoo didn’t ignore you as yuta did, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you that he had been a lot quieter around you than was normal for him. it seemed that the mood had settled over the whole mountain, the sky grey and dark.

you didn’t like the feeling of having upset someone without knowing what you did, and you finally couldn’t stand it anymore. you were going to find him, and you were going to make him talk to you.

standing up, you made to leave your room, walking to the door. when you turned the handle, it didn’t budge. confused, you tugged on it again and it still wouldn’t move. you stepped back from the door, and movement caught your attention from the corner of your eye. turning you noticed a door had appeared across your room that you had never seen before, because it hadn’t been there.

right, magic, you thought.

light spilled through the cracks at the bottom and that was the movement you saw before, as someone was walking back and forth in front of the door. voices murmuring was all that you could make out and your curiosity had you moving to the mystery door before you had the thought of avoiding it entirely.

when your hand touched the wood of the door, something overtook your body, bringing your ear to rest against the door. the hold was gentle but still restricting. you tried to fight against the force holding you against the door, struggling to move until the mention of your name had you stilling. you didn’t need to be held against the door then, finding yourself trying to listen harder.

the voices that you heard were no longer murmurs, clearing up as if you stood directly in front of them, as if they were speaking directly to you.

“leave me alone, jungwoo,” it was yuta and he sounded… tired… sad.

“no.” jungwoo’s voice was angry, that was the only word for it. “you’ve been avoiding her, and me, for three days. i’m not leaving until i get an answer.”

yuta was silent, and jungwoo growled in response to it. “don’t use your eyes on me like that, it’s not going to work.”

“what do you want from me then, jungwoo?” yuta’s voice raised a little.

“an answer! what the hell happened that night?” yuta’s silence only seemed to make jungwoo all the more frustrated.

“yuta!” he barked at him, and you heard the sound of a chair being slid suddenly against the wood floor. you could only assume that yuta had been seated, and was now standing. maybe standing directly in front of jungwoo, maybe he was pacing now.

“it’s her,” yuta’s voice was distraught.

“that couldn’t possibly be any more cryptic,” jungwoo’s response was dripping with sarcasm, and yuta pressed on, his clarification being your last name.

“what?” you could imagine jungwoo’s face dropping in shock, it would be comical but this situation was anything but.

“that’s her, it’s her,” and yuta sounded defeated.

“oh.” and jungwoo’s tone matched yuta’s. “that’s the same as… oh, that’s fucked.”

“yeah.”

“what are you going to do then? you can’t, you can’t… but… to be free…”

“i know that i can’t! i know what’s at stake, for us and for her.”

“maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to be that much blood, maybe it can just be-.” did jungwoo lie to you? had he been lying the entire time when he said he didn’t know much about the curse? his responses let you know that he clearly knew more than he had originally let on.

“you know that’s not the way blood magic works.” yuta’s voice was softer than you had heard it before.

“but we don’t know that, it only said blood from the bloodline, it’s doesn’t say it has to be a lot!”

“there’s no point, jungwoo. i’m not going to ask that of her, i will not hurt her and i will not kill her just so we can leave this place.” you jerked away from the door as if it had shocked you with a gasp, mind reeling. you felt like you did the first day here, breath getting caught in your throat. the bottom line that you had learned… was that you had to bleed.

the key to breaking the curse was what kept you alive. you didn’t know what your name had to do with any of it. you didn’t know why it had to be you, because bloodline of what? the gears in your mind turning over as you put the clues together to make a solid thought.

were you… were you descendant of the witch?

was that why none of the other girls who had already died before you couldn’t have been their ticket out?

you felt a hysterical giggle bubble up your throat, and then you swallowed it down. covering your mouth with your hand, your mind devolved wildly until it came to a screeching halt on one thought alone, the bottom line.

you were sent here to die anyway.

you became too comfortable with the two immortal men, and that was your own fault. but how could you not?

you didn’t want to admit it but… your aunt was right. she was cruel, vile and not even actually there, she was just a figment of your nightmares and she was still… right.

that infuriated you. the idea that you might have been remotely content, away from everyone who you grew to resent above, feeling as if you belonged here… just to know that they’d now be counting down the days until you died, if they didn’t decide to change their minds first… that devastated you.

and that sole emotion was what led you from the room, the bedroom door that refused to open earlier, opening for you as you approached it. you followed the maze, body moving entirely on its own, the path you knew would take you to the kitchens and when you arrived, you just stood in the empty room.

you didn’t know what led you here, all you knew was that your feet walked of their own accord. your eyes caught a glint of silver and you zeroed in on it. the idea worming it’s way into your head almost against your will, something you had never thought of before. and now it was on repeat as you stepped closer, completely out of your control.

the knife block sat on the island, and you started to panic internally at how out of control of your own body you felt. you reached out to pull a knife from it’s place, the sound of it sliding out echoed around the room.

do it, your thoughts kept repeating to you. the more they repeated, the more they stopped sounding like you and more like your aunt.

do it. you lifted the knife slowly.

do it. you could see your reflection in the steel.

do it. you moved –

“y/n!” the sudden shouting of your name made you jump, but effectively broke whatever spell you were under. the knife jerked awkwardly in your hand after being startled and the blade sliced a thin line on your palm causing you to hiss at the sting.

red drops of blood pooled to the surface, and a tight grip on your wrist made you drop the knife clang onto the counter. you inhaled deeply for what must have been the first time since entering the kitchen. the hand gripping your wrist used it to pull you around, coming face to face with the man who had been avoiding you for three days.

“are you crazy? the hell are you trying to do?” his voice was raised, but it wasn’t in anger. it was worry.

“i… i don’t know…” you stammered, unable to form a sentence, still confused at how you really got here. he searched your face for the lie and only found unease.

“come on,” he said softly and pulled you to the sink, gently putting your hand under the running water. you hissed again softly at the pain.

“well, yeah… what did you expect, for it to feel good?” his asked sarcastically as he turned off the water and began wrapping your palm with a bandage.

“i don’t even – i wasn’t in control of myself…” you muttered, that fact concerning yuta but then you continued, “but, why are you here? wouldn’t this be what you need?” you argued and you peered up at him, and his eyes widened slightly at the question.

“what do you mean?”

“you’ve been avoiding me and i heard you and jungwoo earlier.”

“how did you-, ah, magic.”

“yeah, magic.”

“if you heard the conversation then you know that a few drops won’t do anything,” yuta glanced up from your hand to look you in the eye, quirking an eyebrow.

“but…”

“and you also would have heard how i said i would not hurt you in exchange for freedom.”

“i heard that part…” you finally muttered after searching for a different response and coming up empty. he had finished with your hand moments ago but continued to hold it in his. his eyes didn’t drift away from yours.

“and, if you would have listened for a just a minute longer, you would have then heard how i couldn’t do that because i care too much about your wellbeing. care too much about you.”

“why would you give up your freedom for… for me. you said you enjoyed traveling, and you’ve been stuck here for so long, you shouldn’t give up that…” you trailed off and he was already shaking his head before you even started to speak.

“i’ve been happier in these past few weeks since you’ve arrived than I had in the years before the curse, i’d rather be trapped down here with you than be free without you.” your eyes started to water, but you didn’t want to pull your hand from yuta’s to wipe at them. yuta must have read your mind because his other hand came up to wipe at them for you. the happiness you felt at his words was fleeting.

“but you were avoiding me… and that isn’t fair to jungwoo,” you said dropping your eyes from his.

“jungwoo is fine with it, he goes where yuta goes. and yuta was pouting about his feelings for you,” said man’s voice came from the kitchen door and you both turned to face him, and yuta was thankful for the darkness of the kitchen that you couldn’t see his ears turning red.

he smiled at you both, and relief washed over you like a tsunami.

you threw your arms around yuta’s waist and squeezed him tightly. and he did not hesitate nor need direction from jungwoo this time, his arms immediately wrapping around you.

after a few moments, jungwoo threw himself into the hug, coming behind yuta and wrapping his arms around you both. the taller man snuggled into yuta’s back and you couldn’t help but laugh at the straight-faced look on yuta’s face.

“don’t forget you were my best friend first, just because she’s here now,” jungwoo pouted and you felt yuta pat jungwoo’s hand that rested on your back.

“how can i forget when you remind me every day?”

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

things were going great for the two weeks. you had officially lasted longer than any other girl who had been dropped in and nothing else strange happened. you didn’t have any other dreams, or urges beyond your control.

you were confident in your place with them then, the doubts that had been sown in your mind had died off completely.

you were happy, you realized, and your days spent with yuta and jungwoo were peaceful. two weeks without incident allowed you to sleep in your room alone again, even though you missed the comfortable weight of jungwoo at the foot of your bed or the warm presence of yuta in the room – yuta had offered you a permanent place in his bed, but you had shook your head and laughed at the implications.

that was something else that had changed, yuta openly flirting with you.

you weren’t mad about that in the slightest, but you realized that when the occasional human boy would flirt with you, you could brush it off with ease.

when yuta would flirt with you, it turned you into a blushing mess.

on the third night after the resuming of sleeping alone, yuta had walked you to your door. a habit he had gotten into since you stopped staying in his room, and when you had asked him about it he nonchalantly shrugged, “just because i’m damned doesn’t mean i can’t be chivalrous.”

you snorted and didn’t argue at that, “that wasn’t a complaint.”

you had your hand on the doorknob behind your back as you had finally made it to your room, and yuta was leaning casually with one elbow against your door frame, and the other hand in his pocket.

“but if you’d prefer,” yuta smirked down at you, “i can become quite the opposite.”

your eyebrows drew together in confusion, “i’ve already seen you be an asshole, the whole first few days, or did you forget?”

“i didn’t forget…” he purred and he lowered his head slowly down to yours until he was inches from you, his breath tickling your lips, and your eyes widened and face flushed at the sudden closeness, “but i was thinking of something a bit more… dishonorable.” yuta bit his lip cockily, his eyes trailing down slowly from your eyes to your lips, and you held your breath. you felt your breath catch in your throat, your brain screaming and you fumbled to turn the doorknob, and all but falling into your room, and you closed the door directly in yuta’s face. you leaned against the door, patting your cheeks softly trying to get control of the blush that had taken over.

you heard yuta’s deep chuckle from the other side of the door, and his voice rumbled through the door, “goodnight, my little human.”

your breath was shaky, and you couldn’t get control of your erratic heartbeat nor the butterflies that erupted in your stomach. however, in a moment of brash confidence, you suddenly opened the door, the action shocking even yuta. you quickly stood on your toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“well that wasn’t quite what I meant when I said dishonorable…” he trailed off, gazing down at you a smirk on his lips.

standing flat on your feet again, you bravely kept eye contact and through the blush you huffed, “goodnight, yuta.”

after a few moments yuta’s smirk morphed into the prettiest smile you had seen on him so far, the happiness reaching even his eyes. he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead in return, muttering a soft, “cute.” you retreated back to your room with a wave to him.

you tossed and turned in your bed, at first because you couldn’t stop thinking about yuta’s lips on your forehead, and then it was because you felt too hot in your bed. you kicked off the blankets one by one, until it was just you on the bed.

the heat was driving you crazy, and you thought about laying on the ground to cool off because you were that desperate. eventually you settled on stepping outside in the clearing to get some fresh air, and if that didn’t help, maybe you’d ask yuta to do whatever demon magic trick would help you sleep.

walking through the corridors, you felt a sudden gust of cool air, and it was gone so quickly in the next moment that you instantly got frustrated. you knew it had to come from somewhere, so you followed where it came from.

the cold air blew again, and continuing to follow it, it caused you turn down a hall you hadn’t explored yet. you hesitated, jungwoo’s warning echoing in the back of your mind but when you went to turn back around, the same feeling you had while in the kitchen overcame you and this time you were very aware of it.

your heart instantly rose in your throat, and with every step deeper into the cave you felt the panic rising. you wanted to open your mouth, to scream for help, to ask yuta or jungwoo to come get you before it was too late but whatever had you under it’s control, had control of your tongue as well.

long minutes of walking, the only sound echoing against the stone walls was your nervous breathing. eventually you came to a stop, the corridor opening up in a way you were familiar with. instead of grass and waterfalls, there were endless stars, and after closer inspection, you realized they were fireflies. it was beautiful to see, and you would have admired it had it not been for the circumstance.

the lights from the small bugs emitted an eerie glow and an involuntary chill ran down your spine. a swishing sound came from behind you, as if something were moving along the cavern floor. you couldn’t turn around, couldn’t move your head to turn around. couldn’t control your rapid breathing, and the feeling of being trapped made your flight senses light up but you couldn’t obey them no matter how hard you tried. with the dim lights you saw a shadow of a figure, but you couldn’t make out any details.

“youuuu,” it drawled, a slight breathy rasp in it’s voice. “it took a lot of effort to get you here.”

you still couldn’t speak, mouth firmly closed.

“you fought so hard, human. I can say I’m impressed. but I had to have you, I really…” it’s breath rattled in it’s chest, and you noticed a slight hissing sound coming it. “couldn’t control myself.” it continued, all while still circling you, and you could see in moments it was directly in front of you the soft glow of green eyes, the same green as the fireflies on the cavern ceiling.

the slithering sound constant, coming from all around you, making it hard for you to focus on where it was, making it harder for you to control your fear.

after long moments you suddenly felt the invisible muzzle that had you silenced the entire time lift away. finally you could speak and immediately opened your mouth to scream.

“if you try to summon him again like you did before, i’ll kill him in front of you the second he appears,” and you could hear it smiling as it spoke from somewhere over your shoulder.

“why couldn’t you have left me alone?” you said trying to keep the shake from your tone, but your echoing voice that bounced back to you let you know that you had failed in that.

“two reasons,” it answered simply. you were trying to keep it talking, trying to think of any way to get out of this alive. your mind going haywire in it’s panic, because somehow deep down, you knew.

you knew this was it.

“what were the reasons?” you forced out from between pursed lips, your throat now burning from the tears you were trying to hold back after the realization struck you.

you were trying to be brave but you had started shivering now, not because you were cold, but because you were that scared.

“did you ever not wonder about what yuta was so interested in on your very first day?” and you thought back. you did remember, you could remember him saying ‘interesting’, but at the time you were too angry about the trance he put you under to care.

“no, a lot happened that day.”

“we’re all from hell, us three trapped down here. but we all have this one thing in common… we know souls. we can see them, taint them, devour them, control them entirely if we want.” it paused, watching you stand in place. it brought joy to the creature to see the occasional tremor travel through your body from fear. humans were so foolish to remain brave in times like this.

“you were unique because your soul was already tainted, from both the blood that runs in your veins and the rage you’ve harbored your entire life, from the grief you couldn’t let go of.” the words triggering the echo of yuta’s words in your mind.

‘if you don’t let it go, it will eat you alive’, your eyes widened at the memory, and you felt your eyes start to water. bravery slowly leaving you the longer the creature spoke.

“yesss, he was trying to purify your soul, little by little. he thought he was helping you but really… he was helping me. the lighter you became, the easier it was to control you, the easier it was to pull you to me.” you choked back a sob then, clenching your teeth to try and keep the sound in your throat, refusing to let the tears fall.

“what was the other reason?” you hissed from between your clenched teeth.

“oh, well… you see. yuta thinks he was trapped down here because of a broken-hearted witch,” it slithered again, this time close to you and you could feel it directly behind you.

“how silly of a reason that would have been.” it hissed lowly, sounds no longer echoing off the walls back to you. the sounds almost seemed to fall to the ground now, almost as if your ears were being covered, the loudest thing now being the roar of your heartbeat.

“the curse was never meant for him, he just so happened to get caught in it…” and you felt a heavy grip on your shoulder; it’s hot breath was on your cheek and you couldn’t help but tense up at the proximity. “it was meant only for me; the witch who cursed me not having the foresight to think one of her own would be put in this position, position where spilling your blood will set me free. i sincerely thank you for your sacrifice.”

all you could hear around you was it’s malicious laugh, but you couldn’t focus on that two things happened simultaneously.

the first being that it moved from behind you to appear very suddenly in front of you in a blink, pale green eyes glowing and not an ounce of kindness found there. you only had a moment to take in it’s face, and it looked surprisingly human, just as jungwoo and yuta did. you were able to make out the snarl on its face, it’s teeth sharp, but didn’t get a moment to think about it because at the same time you felt something sharp pierce directly through your stomach, and it was ripped out of you roughly.

your mouth opened in silence at the sharp pain, the bind that had been placed on your body was lifted in the next moment and you fell to the ground on your knees hands desperately trying to hold your stomach. after agonizing breaths, you collapsed further to land hard on your side, your blood pooling around you slowly, sending new jolts of pain through you that just kept going, and going, and going...

and then finally you started to scream.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

yuta jolted awake, jungwoo bursting into his room at the same exact moment.

“it’s gone,” jungwoo rushed, panic laced in the two words. yuta felt exactly what he meant then, the heavy weight that the curse had been on their bodies all these years was lifted entirely. he felt lighter, and he also felt the kind of power he didn’t realize he had missed.

then it dawned on him.

he was inside your room in an instant, empty. his entire body became hot in that moment, and he wasn’t sure if it were out of anger or fear – maybe both. jungwoo burst through the door moments later and he looked around.

“no, no, no…” he denied, devastation the only thing written in his tear lined eyes. “yuta, how…” jungwoo trailed off and then he fully focused on the demon in front of him. his eyes were red now, something he hadn’t seen in a century.

he had hoped he’d never have to see it again.

jungwoo crossed the distance then and placed his hand on yuta’s shoulder gingerly. it was scalding to him, but he endured it. jungwoo was about to open his mouth but then yuta’s head whipped around, ears picking up something he couldn’t, and because jungwoo was already gripping him… when yuta teleported, so did he.

the first thing yuta noticed when appearing in the wide opening they landed in – he had no clue of where he was going, all he knew was that he heard you sigh his name – was the metallic taste of copper on his tongue, the smell of blood was completely overwhelming.

and there you were.

you were laying on the ground, and that’s where the scent of blood was coming from because it was all around you in a dark puddle and yuta hadn’t known what fear really was, he had never had anything to be afraid of or for, until he met you, and then he had never felt this type of fear before but he did now because of you. fear gripped his heart in its hand tightly and squeezed, yuta realizing his heart was racing then.

he was by your side in a second, gently lifting you – and his breath caught at just how limp you had become – off the ground to cradle you in his arms. he rocked slightly, his bloody hand coming up to brush the hair from your face.

your eyes were closed but you smiled softly up at him, blood staining your lips and leaking from the corners of your mouth; your hair soaked from where you had been lying in it. you croaked out a soft, “hi.”

“hey, hey,” he whispered to you and your eyes slowly fluttered open to gaze into his, your hand lifted lethargically to grip at his shirts sleeve. he saw you slowly losing focus, and he tapped your cheek gently, trying to keep you awake. jungwoo somehow regained movement in his legs and scrambled to kneel next to you; he put his hands over the wound and realized how bad it truly was.

jungwoo couldn’t help but use the back of his now bloody hand to try and cover the sobs he couldn’t control, they couldn’t lose you – he really liked having you around. you cuddled him and you made yuta happy but he didn’t know how to fix this.

“my little human, please… please keep looking at me,” yuta was saying to you, his hand coming to rub his thumb against your cheek and your lips tugged upwards slightly at the affection in which he touched you, in the way he said the nickname that had become yours.

“i have been… this whole time. i’ve been looking at you,” you whispered, in between rattling breaths hoping he understood you didn’t just mean right now, you meant since landing here, since the very first day. you were so tired now, your mind becoming as lethargic as your body and you felt tears dripping down your cheeks but it wasn’t you.

yuta was crying, his tears splattering against your cheeks.

you didn’t mind.

“i wanted more time,” you said in an exhale.

“then don’t go,” he pleaded, anguish in his eyes and voice. “don’t leave. don’t leave us. don’t – don’t leave me… please.”

“then don’t… let me…” you wheezed, still somehow teasing even though your voice cracked, your lungs struggled to fill with air.

“let me save you,” he was begging you, he was resting his forehead against yours now. his blood-soaked hands were shaking now as they tangled themselves in your hair, he was so afraid to let go. “i can do it, please let me.”

jungwoo snapped his head up at yuta, and he whispered, “but she would…”

yuta never took his eyes off of you, and he noticed the moments in between blinks were getting longer and longer.

“i can save you,” he was whispering to you, his red eyes starting to glow in anticipation. “i can save you but your soul, it would be tethered to mine. you’ll be like me… you’ll be damned.”

you tried to laugh, but all that came out were weak breaths, “there are worse things i could be.”

yuta’s heart lurched when your grip on his shirt loosened, your arm falling across your body now and he started speaking to you faster.

“demons have laws, i can’t… i need your permission – i can’t just do it, it has to be verbal, please,” yuta cried softly, “please say yes.”

you inhaled, your voice was barely there when you exhaled a soft, “yes.”

yuta’s red eyes glowed brighter with your answer. in a swift moment, he closed the space between you, his lips pressing against yours gently. he could feel you now, could feel you trying to hold on but losing the fight.

so he kissed you harder, his hand that was tangled in your hair moving down to your neck.

slowly, he felt you again. felt as you came back to him. he felt you as he felt himself now, and he was sure it was the same for you.

he knew you had come back to him when you took a sudden sharp breath against his mouth, and then you were kissing him back. your hand coming back up to grip at his shirt, and he was all around you. you couldn’t stop breathing him in as you kissed him and you had never felt so whole, as if this was what you were missing your entire life. him.

eventually, you slowly pulled away, your eyes fluttered open fully and seeing the tears that had ran down his face and then it was your turn to wipe them away from his cheeks, your thumbs dragging over his lips to wipe at the blood on his mouth from kissing you and you chuckled slightly.

yuta buried his face in the crook of your neck, and you brought your hand up to gently run your fingers through his hair, the sound of him breathing soothing you. turning you offered a hand to jungwoo, not forgetting that he was there.

his face twisted, sniffing as he got control of his emotions again and he took your hand in his and kept it close to his chest.

“you came for me,” you whispered, breaking the silence. yuta gripped you a little tighter, not wanting to let go of you yet.

he murmured his response against your neck, “you called.”

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

you were happy to be alive, you were happy that yuta saved you. you were even happy that jungwoo looked so happy to see you still breathing. but after a few long minutes of him holding you tapped him on the shoulder.

“um, i don’t want to ruin the moment but… the blood is drying and it’s actually uncomfortable.” you laughed awkwardly.

“moment effectively ruined,” yuta droned as he sat up, his look unamused but you could tell he was still trying to come down from the fear of the moment. you made to sit up so you could stand but yuta beat you to it by picking you up effortlessly. you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady from the sudden movement.

“i can walk!” you protested. you looked down when you felt the weight of jungwoo sitting on your stomach, his cat form blinking at you from his newfound spot.

“i never said you couldn’t,” was his easy reply. you learned quickly after that the reason was so he could teleport you all back to your room with ease, and yuta gently placed you down after jungwoo leapt off of you, transforming back into a human. with a squeeze of yuta’s hand you escaped to the bathroom and shut the door behind you. You listened for a moment.

“will she be okay?” jungwoo murmured to yuta, and you heard shuffling.

“if you cuddle her enough, i’m sure she will be eventually.”

“you have to be there for her too,” jungwoo pointed out.

“i plan to,” yuta replied.

you pulled away from the door and went to the bath, turning the water to as hot as it could go. while the shower ran you finally stepped in front of the mirror and you paled at what you saw.

blood was smeared across your lips from where yuta had kissed you, but that wasn’t what got you.

the blood was dried everywhere, your t-shirt that you had went to bed in had a giant hole in the front and it was overwhelming to look at so you ripped it off your body, throwing it across the bathroom. you looked down and it was as if it had never happened, the skin clear.

no scars.

nothing to show that you had died.

nothing to remind you that yuta had saved you. and for some reason that upset you. you stood there staring at your reflection until the mirror completely fogged over.

you dragged your eyes away, and stepped in the shower. you didn’t let the scalding heat of the water deter you from getting in and immediately start scrubbing away at your skin. it took three tries to get to see the water turn clear and once it did, you sank down to the shower floor and brought your knees to your chest.

and for the first time, you let yourself truly cry.

you tried to stay quiet but you didn’t hold back the tears this time. you sobbed to yourself until the fear you had felt before had escaped you entirely, flowing down the drain with the tears. you had been so scared, especially when you felt yourself take your last breath. eventually the tears slowed until there were none left, your mind then drifting to the demon who had saved you and you couldn’t help the small watery smile that that appeared.

you sat there, allowing yourself to process everything that had happened until the water turned cold, and then shivering you turned off the water and stepped out.

when you finally left the bathroom dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, you had somehow expected he would be there but still surprised to see that you were right, you were surprised that jungwoo was nowhere in sight. he looked from where he sat on your bed as up as you entered the room, and you plopped down beside him on the bed. he didn’t speak for a moment, and you didn’t want to disrupt the silence.

finally, he spoke up. “i’m sorry…” and you were shaking your head before his sentence finished.

“i’m not,” you replied. he still wasn’t looking at you and you turned your body to face him. you lifted your hand to his cheek, using it to turn his face to look at you, and then you repeated yourself. “i’m not.”

you leaned in to kiss him sweetly, cutting him off when he opened his mouth to retort. it was meant to be a quick kiss, a reassuring one for him. but he instantly reciprocated, his lips moving against yours in a way they didn’t before.

before the kiss was all about saving you, about bringing you back to him.

this kiss was letting you know how much he wanted you to stay, how desperate he was to keep you safe.

silly demon, you thought. when you tilted your head slightly he deepened the kiss and you, while still kissing him, move to sit up on your knees, hooking one leg over his lap. your hands came up to cup his face, and his hands gripped the back of your thighs to keep you firmly on his lap. you eventually break the kiss to allow yourself to breathe, and yuta trailed his lips across your jawline, down to your neck and you sighed at the contact.

when his teeth grazed against your neck, you couldn’t stop the soft breathy gasp that escaped your lips.

yuta chuckled at that and teased, “oh, we like that?”

your answer was to snake a hand up to his hair to tug it lightly, and it was his turn to groan against your neck.

“oh,” you said, using the same tone he had before, “we like that?” yuta pulled away from your neck and peered into your eyes.

“yes, i like that,” he said playfully and then his eyes turned soft the longer he gazed at you. “but i love you.”

your mouth hung open at his confession. you didn’t doubt that he cared for you, he did just tether your life to his to save yours and that itself was an act of love but this was different.

it was straightforward.

when you didn’t respond right away, he started rambling, his eyes growing wide. it was funny to see the demon who was powerful enough to pull you back from death, now be turned into a blushing fool.

“i wasn’t saying it to make you feel guilty or anything you don’t have to say it back, it’sokayifyoudon’tipromisebut…” the last sentence coming out in one long breath and he trailed off as he saw your face break out into an endearing grin.

you released the grip you had on his hair, looping your arms around his neck and you sealed your lips against his again.

the kiss as sweet as his confession.

a confession you had made to yourself about him as you had sat in the shower earlier.

“idiot demon,” you murmured against his lips, “of course i love you.” yuta’s response was to kiss you with all the passion he could muster, you heard him say it but he wanted you to be able to feel it.

you did.

the kiss turned from sweet within minutes when yuta nipped at you, and you gasped in the of his teeth sinking in to your bottom lip. you trailed your hands down his front, fingers taking in the abs you could feel through his shirt and he smirked into the kiss.

you wanted to feel him, you realized and so you tugged it off and he lifted his arms to let you. you didn’t start kissing him again right away, letting your eyes roam over his body.

“i feel like i’m being ogled at,” he joked as your eyes took in his tattoos that decorated his hips.

“it’s because you are,” you hummed. quicker than you can blink, again with the demon speed, he flipped you both. you were under him, head on the pillow and he was hovering over you, lifting himself by the arm that rested by your head.

his lips found yours for a moment, kissing you breathlessly. his lips trailed to your cheek slowly, and then his lips were at your ear. you felt the moment his lips turn up in a smirk.

“then it’s only fair that it’s my turn, no?”

your only response was to nod, a matching smirk on your face.

and so you let him have his turn.

.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.°.

the next morning you were awoken by the sound of a whispered conversation. you were curled in to yuta’s side as he laid on his back, and jungwoo’s voice was closer to you now. you peeked through your lashes to find him still in his cat form sitting on yuta’s chest as he spoke to him.

“we can’t let him roam free, he’s been trapped here getting more and more bloodthirsty as the years went on.” jungwoo said.

“we’re not going to let him, it’s just…” and you felt his eyes turn to you.

“she can come too, we won’t leave her here alone.”

“no, i’m not letting her near him again.” yuta’s voice was firm, leaving no room for jungwoo to argue. that was when you decided to stop eavesdropping.

“you’re not going to start telling me what I can or can’t do,” you sent an unamused look in yuta’s direction. “i agree with jungwoo, and i want… i want to go.” yuta studied your face, and finally acquiesced.

“fine,” he said.

it didn’t take long for you to track down the path the creature took, you could smell your own blood that had dripped along the path it had walked.

“you can smell that?” yuta asked, studying you as you spoke. your answer was a shrug before you continued down the familiar path.

the interesting thing about living in the mountain is that you had been so accustomed to it’s day and night, that you hadn’t realized it had been opposite of the outside world. it was dark outside, the moon barely seen through the trees. the path you walked down being the same one that had brought you up the mountain in the first place. the little light the moon gave was plenty enough for you to be able to see clearly.

it didn’t even register that you should have been nearly blinded by the darkness, nor that you seemed to be making quicker time than the first trip had taken.

yuta and jungwoo trailed behind you as you somehow led the way, they didn’t question your sense of direction and when you reached the end of the path you hesitated.

one more step would put you back into town, and you were second guessing if you wanted to save these people at all. they had sent you to your death, they didn’t deserve the kindness of being rescued because where was that kindness – a hand on your arm stopped the thoughts in their tracks.

“i’m with you, okay? you’ll be safe,” yuta whispered to you. you shook off the bubble of anger that had appeared, your only response being the next step out of the tree line and into the town limits.

from there though, you weren’t sure of where to go next, the smell of your blood dispersing in the open air.

another sound caught your attention then, a familiar voice at the edge of your hearing. the words you couldn’t understand but you knew the voice, and knew exactly where to find it. following the sound, you led the way and you didn’t notice when jungwoo shot yuta a concerned look.

you followed the same path through the village, your mind taking you back to the feeling of walking through the people as they made a trail for you. the smell of fresh blood caught your attention and you turned your head to see the town mayor.

he was face down in the dirt, body completely still. you couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad for him, but your eyes slowly swept over the area and you saw more bodies then. you did feel a twinge of sadness for the others.

you turned to glance back at yuta and when you did his eyes widened, but you didn’t care to ask why. instead, as if you had tunnel vision, you continued leading the way to the house where you grew up, the voice that you recognized getting clearer and clearer.

before you could step to the small stone pathway that led to the front door, a sound of broken glass broke the silence of the night, you looking in time to see a body being thrown from the window.

the body landed on the ground in a heap, and you rushed over to see your uncle – eyes unfocused as he stared up at the night sky. he was dead before he hit the ground, and that’s when you heard screaming from within the house.

yuta was the first to throw open the door, you following him and the sight you witnessed confused you.

you saw the creature clearly now, and as you had previously thought, it looked more human. it’s human form that of a man, dark hair and tall. the only thing obviously different about him were his eyes that never stopped glowing the pale green, and the patches of skin that seemed to be scales. but what really caught your attention was that he had mina by the throat, lifted high in the air.

“the party has arrived,” he sang, turning it’s head to stare at you. yuta and jungwoo stepped in front of you protectively but the creature looked between them and only stared intently into yours.

“i can see it in your eyes that you sold your soul to the devil,” he sneered. “because i was sure that last i saw you, you were minutes from bleeding out entirely.”

“i was,” you bit back. “seems that i just don’t know when to die.”

“it seems that runs it the family, doesn’t it?” another voice crooned from a shadowed hallway to the right.

your aunt stepped forward and slowly sauntered over to stand next to the snake-like demon.

“must be something in your blood,” she smirked then. she placed her hand on his back then as if they had been long-time friends and not a demon who had been locked away for a little less than a century.

the fact that he had her daughter by the throat, mina’s feet kicking above the floor, it did not seem to faze her.

“what did you say?” you growled, you had been assuming the entire time that the dreams had been just that. terrible dreams.

“what part?” she mocked. when you didn’t answer, she sighed dramatically.

“honestly, i’m a little disappointed to see you even alive. i was so sure that they would have killed you before my friend here had to, i didn’t realize your demon had a heart,” she snorted then, as if the very idea were ridiculous to her, then she shook her head and continued, “but your mother was the same as you, i suppose… she had the audacity to keep holding on.” you jumped forward at that, fury clouding your judgment. finally getting the confirmation was different than just assuming and hoping you were wrong. yuta held you back by the arms.

“why?” you asked, and you felt yuta wrap his arms around you in a constricting hug, the warmth of his body calming your anger but not quelling it entirely. you felt jungwoo’s presence shift slightly behind you.

“because,” your aunt trailed off, her eyes staring intently into yours. “she wanted to tell everyone that the sacrificing was no longer required. i had been planning this for years and she would have ruined it entirely.”

your mind was trying to quickly put pieces together but you felt like you were missing important information.

“i see you’re all confused, poor thing. let me paint the picture simply for you then.” she pouted, her voice demeaning as she stared right into your eyes as she spoke, waving he hands around wildly as she told her story. “demon visits me in my dreams, guarantees me everything i could ever want and more. the price? simple enough, getting my dear sweet niece to it in one piece. something about your dormant witch blood being important but i didn’t care about that. i only cared about receiving what i was promised. your mother had to go when she threatened all of that.”

“you’ve been planning this since i was a child?!” you yelled incredulously, struggling again in yuta’s arms to get free.

“patience has always been a strong suit of mine,” she laughed.

“you know deals like this always come with a price,” it was yuta who spoke up from behind you, his voice hard to read.

“i wanted my wealth and i got it, there’s nothing he can take from me that i’ll be upset for.” she was confident but you realized it was misplaced when the creature dropped mina suddenly – said girl crying out as she hit the floor – and whirled to stalk towards your aunt.

“’nothing i can take’, mm?” it taunted her, its words turning menacing. “nothing… except your life, maybe?” and your aunt cowered away from it then, stumbling as she tried to retreat. her eyes were wide in fear.

“no! i was promised wealth, you can’t kill me!” she argued and panic flooded her eyes when it backed her against the wall.

“i promised it and you received it, did you not? you’ve had wealth for as long as she’s been down in the mountain, no?”

“but…but…” and he cut her off when he put a finger to her lips. her eyes begging him when her mouth was no longer able to. her head shaking rapidly.

“i never promised you for how long, that was your own fault… you really should have been more specific.” and the next second your aunt was dead, her body dropping to the floor with a thud and mina screamed.

he twisted his neck to look over his shoulder. the hungry look he gave mina making her scramble backwards on her hands, trying to put as much distance between her and what was most definitely going to kill her.

you decided then that even if it were only out of guilt, she had still been kind to you. you weren’t going to let her die, not without trying, not like you did.

weak and afraid.

and that thought spurned you to move, and that was the only thought plaguing your mind then.

not mina.

you struggled harder in yuta’s arm, elbowing him accidentally in the ribs but it caused him to let you go and you reacted in the same moment as the murderous demon did.

in a blink he was in front of mina.

and in the same blink, so were you.

the sudden appearance of you caught him off guard, his green eyes widening for a moment before darkening. his hand darted out and his fingers wrapped around your throat before you could stop him.

“you’re beginning to become a nuisance.” he said through clenched teeth.

“beginning to?” you choked out, a smug smile on your face. “i think it’s my best quality.”

the creature opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, yuta was there. he was radiating heat in a way you hadn’t felt before, but his face gave nothing away, it was completely blank.

that somehow made him all the more terrifying. yuta’s hand was on the creature’s wrist then, his grip so tight you could hear the bones grind and he was forced to release you with a short cry in pain.

“mina!” jungwoo called then, beckoning for her to come to him and she did, running into him and gripping his arm tightly as she hid behind him, his arm protectively shielding her.

still gripping his wrist, yuta bent it in a way that was inhuman, cause the creature to crash to his knees painfully.

the kneeling demon then opened his eyes to stare up at the one causing him pain and he balked when he looked into yuta’s eyes, and you saw true fear there.

“i believe you have touched her far too many times already,” yuta said to him, something different about his voice.

“you… you’re not… you can’t be…” he stammered.

“oh, but i am.” yuta affirmed, and you realized his voice had a dark echo to it and you furrowed your eyebrows at him. you could see the red glow of his eyes when you peered around slightly to see, but his face was stoic. nothing scarier than normal, but the opposing demon who had been wreaking havoc was absolutely terrified.

“you were weak, your eyes were black,” he spat at yuta.

“they were, i blame it on the spell. the stronger the demon, the more it dulled everything, it was rather irritating,” yuta’s voice came, still with the echo. you couldn’t lie and say the echo wasn’t a little terrifying.

“please,” the creature had resorted to begging, dropping to his knees in front of yuta and you were bemused at the turn of events.

this cowering thing was what killed you? you started to feel a little embarrassed for yourself then. you still wouldn’t have been able to survive him, but then a thought filtered through.

maybe he isn’t incredibly weak, maybe yuta is just that powerful.

yuta let go of the his wrist and moved his hand to the creature’s head then, almost lovingly.

“don’t…” the creature continued pleading and yuta laughed. the sound void of any joy, only malice.

“don’t what? don’t kill you? did you extend that offer to her?” yuta gestured to you behind him with a jerk of his head.

the demon didn’t answer, so yuta shook his head for him mockingly.

“that’s right, you didn’t.” his voice was angry now and you had never heard this type of fury before.

“please have mercy,” the creature then grabbed onto yuta’s pant leg, eyes staring up at yuta as he glowered down at the creature.

“i only have mercy for very few beings in my life, and unfortunately for you,” yuta said as he crouched momentarily to be eye level with the green-eyed demon. “you’re not one of them.”

and for an extended pause, nothing happened. the room entirely too silent, mina’s labored breathing the only thing you could hear.

then the creature was screaming, screaming as you had in the cavern.

screaming in pain.

and then as if he were burning from the inside out, he started to smoke and smolder. pieces of him crumbling into ash slowly. the screaming stopped when the ash took most of his body, the rest falling onto the ground and there was nothing left of the menacing demon.

“yuta…” jungwoo warned from where he still stood defensively in front of mina. “yuta, snap out of it.”

that was when you noticed yuta breathing heavily, his hand still outstretched where it had been on top of the creature’s head. you circled to the front of yuta, and you saw jungwoo make a move for you, mina’s vicelike grip preventing him from going to you completely.

“y/n, don’t! don’t go near him. he’s not himself right now!” jungwoo called, fearing only for your safety.

you were in front of yuta now, and he still looked physically like your yuta. but he wasn’t… everything else about him seemed off. his eyes were a different type of red than when he had saved you before, they were a darker red. the color of blood alive in his irises. when your face appeared in front of him, he snarled. his lips turning up, his teeth bared at you.

you didn’t move quickly, continuing to gaze into his eyes while your hand reached for his outstretched one. your fingers gently wrapped around his, and you hissed internally as his hand was scalding but you didn’t let that deter you, and you slowly pulled it up. using both your hands, you placed his palm against your cheek.

the fire cooling on his palm the second his hand touched your skin, but he was still growling at you lowly with that strange echo. like he was semi-aware, but unable to break out of it.

“it’s okay,” you whispered reassuringly, voice calm. “i’m okay. he’s dead now. you can stop.”

when nothing changed, your heart squeezed. you reached your palm out to touch his cheek then. mirroring the way you held his to yours, and stepped closer to him.

“yuta, hey… please come back to me?” you murmured, before sealing the distance and placing a kiss on his lips.

if he could kiss you and literally bring you back to life, then surely you could at least bring him back to himself with yours.

when you felt him kiss you back, you knew you had succeeded. pulling away from him, you stared into his now apologetic eyes and were relieved to see them back to brown. the squeeze on your heart finally loosening.

yuta’s eyes searched yours and when he didn’t find an ounce anger or disgust there, a smile slowly worked its way onto his lips.

“you pulled me back,” he said in awe. if he hadn’t loved you before, that would have sealed the deal alone.

“i guess we’re even now,” you laughed, winking at him as you quickly kissed him again.

he took back what he previously thought, that would have sealed the deal.

#gimmehyuck #masterlist #yuta #yuta au #yuta fic #yuta fluff #yuta angst #yuta x reader au #nct #nct 127 #nakamoto yuta #na yuta #yuta x reader fic #yuta x you au #nct 127 au #this is legit the longest thing i’ve ever written #and it was the first time i’ve had a clear plot from the beginning #it was nice

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catcrumbled · 6 days

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oh hey guys 😀 two months ago once i said this and we might almost reach 30k actually …….

#dreamnotfound #dnf #dnfblr #dnf fanfic #dnf fic #send help #what is going on #at first i was like #imagine this became the longest fic i’ve ever written #as a joke… i don’t think it’s a joke anymore

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itsgoghtime · 3 months

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World in Color

Chapter V

Words : 9754

CW : long. many much words. plot of Conspiracy (2008), so I don’t own the dialogue or plot that comes from there, Will is just trying to find his friend, some swears, Spooky is made fun of and mistreated 🥺, mentions of ptsd - but despite all this, they are in contact this chapter, so we are on the road to hope, friends!!

taglist : @valmare @horserad-ish @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

Ughh. Miguel.

Why couldn't he just... stop... calling?

Will had called this gray, lifeless apartment home for three years. And day by day, the color had bled from the wounds in his heart and out the window when he had cracked them open in the warm summer afternoons.

He hadn't been able to sleep well in ages. When he had mentioned this to Miguel, he had told him to find somebody to keep by him, and maybe that would help. Offered his dog, but Will didn't want the hassle of taking care of the animal. It was hard enough taking care of himself.

Unfortunately, Will discovered he couldn't just ask anyone to do it for him. So, he hired women - who typically did other things - to be there. He tried to explain his predicament, and that he just needed companionship. Of course, they tried other things, but Will found himself either too zoned out with his trauma or refusing to engage.

His mind wandered to Pumpkin. He had slept so well next to her, and he yearned for her to be close again.

But even being home in Wisconsin for three years, he still hadn't reached out. His guilt consumed him completely. She must hate him by now. Not that she would want him anyways. Not with his prosthetic situation.

Spooky found himself outside of her house on occasion, walking in her neighborhood. He was never really sure why, besides the fact that his very soul had felt connected with her since day one. Maybe it was trying to pull him back to where he knew his heart belonged.

After his phone rang for the millionth time, and remembering he could take his meds again, Spooky stood up, answering the phone.

"What? What do you need?"

"What's with the chitchat? You're gonna use up all my cell minutes. You think about my offer?"

"I'm not moving to Arizona."

"Come on, what do you got keeping you up there?"

"Things." Will's mind wandered to his monthly walk in front of Pumpkin's house. Maybe one day, he'd get the courage to walk up and ring her doorbell. He had to be around for that.

"I laid in a hospital bed next to you for nine months. I know when you're full of shit. Come on, Spooky. Por favor. Get your ass down here. It's sunny, open blue skies. It's gonna change your life. Lucinda and Juan Miguel are supposed to get their papers. Come on, man. I could really use some help to get the ranch in shape."

"Miguel, I'm not moving to Arizona."

"Hey man, I'm just trying..."

"Listen, Lose my number, okay? Don't call me again."

After hanging up, the sound of firecrackers filled the stairwell, only fueling his frustration. He left the girl who was occupying his bed, standing to talk to them.

Will's head was spinning already with the beginnings of another episode, and it planted worry in his mind. He'd just had one, and the meds were supposed to work. Maybe they just hadn't kicked in yet.

His interaction with the teenagers was vague in his mind, not really understanding what they were saying or what he was responding with.

Catching the firecracker was just second nature, but dropping it to the bottom of the stairwell caused a small explosion, and Will ducked into his doorway to avoid the rubble.

His mind spiraled, and he was right back in the war zone, his hearing fading into that high pitched whine that drowned everything else out. His vision flooded with tears.

The woman on the bed whined, complaining about his reaction, and his refusal to do anything for her in the time she had spent with him. Spooky told her to leave, crawling further into the apartment.

Within minutes, she was up and out, slamming the door behind her, making Will's head pound.

He didn't want to pass out on the floor, so he slowly felt his way around, trying to see through his tears as he found his bed, falling onto the mattress, facing the ceiling.

Miguel was calling again. Will couldn't hear the majority of the words he said through the high-pitched ringing in his ears, but he did catch one.

Pumpkin.

Suddenly, he was there, in her arms, on the carousel again. His hands moved as hers had, moving through his hair and running down from his forehead to his nose, his other hand resting on his cheek. If he thought hard enough, he could feel the kiss on his forehead she had given so freely.

It wasn't the same as when she had done it, but he felt his heart begin to calm at his mimicking of her comfort. She had done it the same every time he had experienced an episode in those short few months they had been blissfully in love.

And, within a few minutes of trying her technique, he passed out.

♡ ♡ ♡

His heart beat out of his chest. Her door shouldn't be this nerve wracking. Maybe it was that he was using the spare key he had always used when they had been together before he had been deployed.

What if it didn't work? What if someone else lived here now? What if...

The key from under the stone frog fit into the keyhole perfectly, as it always had. The smell of pumpkin pie filled the house.

There was only one person who would ever make pumpkin pie in the middle of the summer.

Spooky closed the front door behind him silently, padding quietly to the kitchen.

And, like an angel, there she was. Standing at the counter with her back turned to him, anxiously scribbling some change to her already perfect recipe.

Will stood and admired her for a moment. He could feel her dampened spirit from where he was standing. The way her shoulders weren't as relaxed as they had been the last time he had seen her, almost five years ago.

He couldn't wait any longer. Not seeing any immediate danger of a hot pie dish anywhere near, he closed that final distance, pressing himself against her back, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her shoulder.

She froze for a moment. The leather jacket. Those arms she had been imagining for years.

Will could feel her breath become uneven with emotion.

"S-Spooky?"

"I'm here, Pumpkin." The words felt so foreign coming out of his mouth - as if he hadn't spoken in a century. It may as well have been, considering what he had put her through.

She chuckled softly, trying to hide her shaky breath as she turned around. Her hands cupped his face, several stray tears falling as she gave him the softest of smiles.

"I knew you'd come."

His lips were on hers in an instant, backing her flush up against the counter.

"I have to go to Arizona. To help Miguel." He whispered as they parted, foreheads touching.

She affectionately bumped noses with him.

"You go take care of Chupacabra, but you need to come home to me. Don't leave me again."

Will nodded, and her hand traced the right side of his jaw as she spoke softer.

"Don't leave me again."

♡ ♡ ♡

Spooky's eyes shot open, and he had to squint slightly to adjust to the light. A blonde woman was next to him, doing something on her phone. He didn't remember her arrival. How long had she been here? Why was she here?

The phone went to voicemail, and it was only when Miguel's voice began speaking that he realized it had been ringing before he was fully conscious.

"Hey Spooky, it's Miguel. Come on man, I know you're there. Hey, look, I'm just gonna keep on calling every day until you say yes. Come on, man. I could really use your help. Don't make me say it. Okay, shit, man, I need you out here."

Within moments, he was mentally in the war zone, right after the blast that had cost him his leg.

"I owe you." Spooky smiled.

"Damn right you do." Miguel chuckled before they were both loaded into the helicopter.

It echoed in Spooky's mind as a rock echoes its song down an empty canyon wall. He couldn't leave Miguel. They'd been to hell and back together - the least he could do would be to help him get a ranch organized.

"I need you out here." Miguel said, sounding a little more defeated.

This washed-out apartment held nothing for him. Perhaps he could find some color in the rich Arizona desert, enough to bring him a semblance of what "normal" life should feel like. Maybe enough to breathe confidence back into his heart to push him back to Pumpkin's front door. And not just to push him to the door, but through it, and into her arms.

Will's hand was on the phone before he could change his mind.

"When do you need me?" Anything. Anything to get him closer to Pumpkin.

"Bro, thank you, man. I'll pick you up in front of the clock tower, 11:30."

♡ ♡ ♡

It did not take him long to pack his belongings into his army bag. He gave Erin a quick call, telling her what he was doing. It was the first time in years she had heard a glimmer of hope in his voice, so naturally, she was supportive.

Will decided to empty the apartment. No use in returning. No, when he came back to Wisconsin, it would be to return to Pumpkin. Where he belonged.

He found his box that he had packed from Erin's basement. He threw most of the things in there away, but came across two items that made him pause.

First, the handgun. He had taken Pumpkin for target practice for her first time with this gun. Picking it up, he remembered how large it had been in her small hands. It made him smile.

"Will, love, there's no way I could shoot a gun like this."

"My darling Pumpkin, you'll be alright. Just..." He stepped behind her, holding her hands steady as she backed into his chest. "Focus. Keep your hands in the right position until you're ready."

Spooky took into account how quiet she became. Her brow was furrowing. She was focusing, lining her aim up with the target as his hands left hers and came to rest on her hips.

Her first shot knocked the Sprite can clean off the stump. She smiled as she put the safety back on, lowering it and looking up at Will with an excited expression.

He let the memory linger a little longer, before putting the gun in the pawn shop box. He could get one a little smaller next time, one that would fit in her hands better, and they could use a watermelon as target practice, like she had always teased they should.

The next object made his heart pang softly. It was a little book, titled "Superb Crosswords". His hands ran over the green and yellow cover, remembering when she had gifted it to him for Valentine's Day. It had originally been a joke.

"I told you I'd get you one eventually! Since our first date, remember? I just had to find the right one!" She laughed, and Will opened the book, pulling a pen from her coffee table drawer.

"Alright, Pumpkin. 20 Down, eleven letter word for the scientific study of birds."

"Will, if you don't want it, it's okay. It was just a joke..."

He kissed her softly. "Eleven letter word, Pumpkin."

"Ornithology." She smiled.

They had completed several of these puzzles together, and Will's hand ran over her handwriting with a soft expression. He put it on top of everything else in his duffel bag. Maybe he could have the book completed by the time they were reunited.

With everything packed, Will turned one final time and looked around. Leaving the apartment and realizing there was no semblance of home was simultaneously comforting and numbing to his system.

There had only ever been one reason that anywhere had felt like home.

Will made a point of stopping at the man who sold roses at the street corner, and taking the bus to Pumpkin's house.

His dream flashed across his mind as he walked up her sidewalk.

He checked the little stone frog. The spare key was still there.

But, instead of using it, he placed the rose on her step, looking down at it carefully before putting a torn page from the crossword book down. It was one of the puzzles about love - and on the side with all the answers, he had written a little note to her.

"Leaving to help Miguel. I'm coming back for you soon.

Love,

Your Spooky"

The next time he was here, Will vowed he would be knocking on the door. Have the courage to talk to her. Give her the explanation and the love she had been deserving of this entire time.

And, if Miguel was telling the truth, she would be waiting for him.

After leaving her house, he sold what he could to the pawn shop, and pocketing his medals that he couldn't, and bought a train ticket with some of the money he had managed to rake in.

His bus ride would be a few days - he called Miguel to tell him, and was surprised to find out that Pumpkin had just been there the week prior, and that she had talked about returning to Arizona in a few weeks to help again. He felt frustrated - why had he just barely missed her? Why hadn't he agreed earlier? But, as he settled into the seat, he began to be okay with it.

And, as the sun continued its game of tag in the sky with the moon, the days on the bus began to blend together.

Those thoughts of 'home' swam across the colorful and repetitive horizons over sagebrush and sand as his hand filled in a few of the crossword puzzles.

Strangers, with their own homes, embarked on and off the bus as he remained. He couldn't help but wonder - what was 'home' to them? Did they know how important that was?

To have 'home'?

Miguel did cross his mind frequently. How excited he was to see him. Maybe Miguel would help him feel a little closer to normal.

The soft orange hues in the sunset told him that it wouldn't help him truly settle.

Not without her.

That soft hair he longed to run his fingers through flew across the practically spinning desert panorama outside his window - her laugh that had never failed to put him at ease echoed in the soft buzz of chatter on the bus.

And, if he closed his eyes, he could still see the blue ribbon at the pie tasting table that she had been incredibly proud of, the very day they had met, so many years ago.

A single tear fell down Will's cheek as he quietly whispered into the dark, trying to call to her from across what felt like the entire universe.

"Pumpkin..."

♡ ♡ ♡

New Lago really was in the middle of nowhere. From what Will remembered on the map, it was right along the border - and while there was relative calmness, there was a certain tension in the air.

He sat down on the bench across from the clock tower, noting it was 11:18.

11:30 passed. Maybe he was just running behind.

12:00.

12:30.

1:00.

1:30 finally hit, and Spooky decided to approach the hotel, and see if someone could point him in the right direction.

There were three men in the room. The one behind the counter seemed like the easily nervous type, and was being teased by the other two. Will easily assumed he wasn't the smartest of the three.

There was a deputy sitting in a chair next to the counter reading a newspaper. He seemed laid back, and had kind eyes.

The final man was wearing a broken straw hat. And with the way he was talking, sounded like a know-it-all that probably had the same level of intelligence as the man behind the counter, with just a little more arrogant self confidence.

Will approached the counter, and the man there addressed him.

"Afternoon! You ain't with the Halicorp folks..."

"No." He said quietly.

"You're a real genius there, Terry." The deputy chuckled.

"Thought I'd check, what?" Terry turned back to Spooky. "What can I do for ya? Need a room?"

"No, I'm uhh... I'm looking for a friend at this address." He handed the paper he had written the address for Miguel's ranch on, and Terry looked confused.

"Oh, uh, that's out in the desert, I think... uh, Don? This fella's looking for that place out on New Hope?"

"What?" The deputy stood up.

"You know the one that's all the way out there." Terry handed the paper to Don, who chuckled softly as he looked at the address.

"There ain't nothing out on New Hope but a bunch of construction. Are you here for a construction job?"

"No, I'm here to visit a friend. That's his address." Will nodded gently.

"That's funny, cause there's nothing out there. All the lands been bought up by development folks, no one's living there yet. What's your friend's name?"

"Miguel Silva."

When he mentioned Miguel's name, he noticed the pause. The recognition.

"I've never heard of him." Don shrugged, and Will could tell he was feigning ignorance. His attention directed back at Terry behind the counter.

"Is there a rental car service, or a taxi..." The deputy laughed, the other two joining in long enough after that Will noticed. He turned back to Don.

"I'll tell you what - you check back with us in a few months, the way things are going, we'll be real modernized by then."

Spooky was getting sick of Don. He knew Terry would feel awkward enough to give him the answer. He just had to get him to answer.

"You said there was a construction site, is there a crew shuttle?" Will asked.

"What's with all the questions?" The straw hat man snapped.

"Hey, take it easy." Don chided, before turning back to Spooky. "Don't mind him, he's not exactly the welcome wagon type. Yes, there's a shuttle, leaves in the morning about five in the AM. But I'm telling ya, there ain't nothing out there." His expression was hiding something. It was obvious in his eyes and in the way his mouth sat nervously, as if an entire explanation for this odd behavior was just a question away.

"Thanks for your help." Will said quietly, grabbing his bag, and slinging it over his shoulder as he left the building.

"Have yourself a good day." Don called after him as the door shut.

♡ ♡ ♡

Nothing about this was right so far. Miguel hadn't shown up. People were acting strange, and he couldn't pin anything solid down. He'd have to be on guard.

He saw some of the workers loading some wood into the back of a red truck, laughing and joking. He heard them mention New Hope. Maybe this would be his ticket.

"Excuse me. You speak English?"

"Si. Yes." The man was very skeptical, eyeing Will nervously.

"Did I hear you say something about, uh, New Hope?"

"Why?"

"I wanna go there." His hand held out Miguel's address. The address he should have been at hours ago. The address that his one and only friend was trying to build a life at. The address that was supposed to bring his heart one step closer to Pumpkin.

"I-I know it."

"I'll pay you."

"How much?"

"Twenty bucks?" Will could see the hesitation in the man's face. What pressure were these people being put under that he was so skeptical? After a moment of him arguing with his friend, Will spoke up again. Maybe if he offered a little more, it would pay for gas or whatever he was worried about. "Okay, 40."

"Okay, but up-front." Will pulled the cash out of his wallet, handing it to the man, who invited him to take a seat in the truck.

They didn't get very far down the road, when a kid who had been on his bike earlier, closer to Will’s arrival, cut out in front of the truck. The man slammed on his brakes, reprimanding the boy.

"My son, he should know better."

"Then he wouldn't be a boy." Will smiled. His mind wandered to the future he wanted so desperately - the one that was feeling just a little closer to being in reach. Maybe there was a little boy in his future. He'd have to tell him not to ride his bike in the road too.

"Sí, verdad." The man chuckled.

The drive was pleasant with the windows down, letting the warm Arizona wind brush across his face. Miguel had been right - he needed this.

Will learned the man's name was Victor, but the man seemed hesitant to share any more information than that.

They came up to the top of a hill, and as they descended back down, Spooky noticed a large house on the opposite hill.

"Whose place is that?" He asked.

"Uh, I-I don't know." Victor answered, voice shaking a little. The drove a little further, passing yet another Halicorp sign.

"Halicorp. Why is a defense and reconstruction outfit building houses in this area?" Will reflected on the sign he saw in town plastered across the buildings in progress, and now, here.

"Hombre, it's cheap. The land, the labor. First the plant, then the housing. Now the corporate offices. It's good for today, keeps me working. But next year it's too expensive to live here, and I have to move my family again. Who knows? Maybe north to Aho."

"What kind of plant?"

"I-I don't know. I wasn't on that build, you know?" Will noticed how Victor's hand fiddled with his wedding ring. He struck a chord, with whatever it was that had happened. But before he could ask further, Victor stopped the truck.

"I, uh... Listen, hombre, I-I need to make a stop, okay? 'Cause I gotta load the truck. Maybe you can walk down past the construction and I'll- I'll pick you up as soon as I'm done." Will sighed softly, looking out the window. Victor spoke up again, tone pleading.

"Now, look, it's just I can't bring you to the job site, you know? And I'll only be about 10 minutes. You know, you should probably take your bag."

"Ah, don't strain yourself." Will said defeatedly, slinging his bag over his shoulder and getting out of the truck. He shut the door, beginning to walk down the road.

"Look, it's just that I- I can't be seen." Victor said softly, but Spooky was already gone.

Will wandered down the road to the construction site. The same air of uneasiness creeped into his stomach. He just couldn't quite figure out why yet.

He carried a cement bag for a worker who had sat down for a rest, asking him in Spanish if he'd ever met Miguel. The man shook his head, and Will went and set the cement bag next to the machine before leaving the work site.

Spooky made it a ways down the road, and Victor pulled up alongside him.

"Well, come on." He said, and Will got into the truck. They drove a little ways down the road before turning off the pavement and onto dirt. The road had obviously been used, the tire tracks had worn down the grass into a path.

It went on for a while, but soon, Victor stopped alongside what looked like land that had been cleared, but nothing was built on it.

"This is the address you were looking for."

"What?" Will asked.

"This is it." Victor said again, and Will got out of the truck. He stood at the small two foot ledge, looking out over the dirt and the brush.

"What the hell? This is it?" He said softly before jumping down that ledge and shuffling in the dirt. He kicked a few things around, trying to find anything that would lead him to finding a clue about Miguel.

After a few moments, his eyes landed on the white corner of a card. He picked it up from the ground, studying it carefully. Will took note of the shape on the edge, and the letters that were there before pocketing it and returning to the truck.

The drive back to town was tense. Something about visiting that location had Victor nervous.

"What happened out there?" Spooky asked.

"I-I don't know." Victor responded.

"Esta seguro?" Will asked, seeing if Victor was really sure about his supposed lack of knowledge.

"Hey hombre, no sabía que hablabas español." Victor responded, shocked that Will knew as much Spanish as he did.

"Que paso ahí?" Will pushed further, still wanting to know what happened.

"Por favor, señor. Por favor." Victor looked out the window, before his gaze met Spooky's again, denying knowing anything once more. "No se nada, okay?"

"Do you know who runs Halicorp?"

"No, no. I - really, I don't."

An uneasy silence settled between them. Will's mind spun. Miguel wasn't here. But something about New Lago created a tension between his shoulders that he just couldn't place the reason for yet.

♡ ♡ ♡

The moment they rolled back down New Lago's main street, they could see the crowd gathered around something on the ground next to the corner of one of the buildings.

"Victor!" One of the men called.

The moment the truck was in park, they were out and walking towards the crowd. Victor called out in a panicked voice, seeing his son next to his smashed bike. Will's heart dropped, even if it didn't come out in a direct expression on his face.

Before he could open his mouth and offer any help, Victor was rushing past him to the truck with the boy in his arms.

"Stay away." His frightened tone pleaded.

"Stay away. We have enough problems without some gringo. Just leave us alone." Victor's friend passed Spooky, scowling at him.

The man with the straw hat appeared, spouting something off about the kid needing to watch where he's going, that he was playing where he shouldn't, and tacked the accident up to that. It made Will’s stomach churn slightly.

He turned down the road as he saw the deputy from earlier pull up in a cop car.

"You find your friend?" Don asked.

"Quite a town you got here." Will said plainly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A kid gets run over by a car and nobody says anything, nobody does anything?"

"Folks in New Lago like to keep to themselves. Besides, the boy seems like he's gonna be okay, anyway." As Don responded, Will looked at the street - people were filing out, one by one. As if the boy was inconsequential.

"You picked a heck of a time to visit our little slice of heaven. We've seen more action today than we've seen in an age. Must be the heat." Don commented.

"You be sure to drink lots of water. Most city folks can't handle our generous helping of sunshine." His smile gave Will no comfort - it just further twisted the knife of uneasiness in his gut.

"Have a nice day." Will mumbled, sauntering back towards the hotel.

♡ ♡ ♡

Spooky's first observation as he walked in, was that Terry was asleep, headphones over his ears. His eyes wandered around the room, looking for anyone else. After finding no one, he picked up the Yellow Pages, dropping it on the counter with a loud thud.

It startled Terry awake.

"Oh, hey. Oh. Oh, it's you, you're back." Terry's eyes went wide as he slipped off the stool he had been sleeping on, and standing in front of Will behind the counter. Will struggled holding back his laugh, instead trading it for half of a smirk that only one person had ever been able to catch and identify as a look of amusement.

"Uh... Wha- What can I do for you? You need another map, or...? Uh, you know, you could a take a trip on down to old Mexico. I got some maps for those..." Terry rambled.

"No, I need a room." Will responded.

"Oh. Uh - Well... Ooh. You know, I don't know if we - if we have any rooms available just now."

"I'll take one of those." Spooky pointed towards the entire rack of keys that hung behind the nervous wreck at the counter.

"Oh, one of those? Yeah, no, those - yeah, right - uh, those are, uh, for a tour group we got coming in later today." After Terry was given Will's blank stare for several moments, he caved.

"Okay. Uh... That'd be terrific. Uh, I just need to see some ID."

Will pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, sliding his retired veteran's card out. This blue card had replaced his previous green one, since the injury had permanently retired him from the Marine Corps.

"Will, when was this picture taken?" Pumpkin's hands ran over the card.

Spooky hummed, looking over and chuckling.

"Oh, 1988. When I officially entered active duty, they were redoing the cards, and since I haven't left active duty or reserves, I get to keep this one, until that changes."

"Until it changes? You mean when you retire, you'll get a different card?"

"Yeah. Or if another war started, and I was permanently injured and sent home with an honorable discharge, that would be the same colored card."

She nodded, smiling softly as she set the card down, cupping Will's face in her hands.

"My handsome soldier."

Spooky handed the card to Terry. He was reminded that Pumpkin would be getting a card too, once he returned to Wisconsin and put a ring on her finger. She'd get a tan card - the color for dependents. There was a part of him that was grateful they hadn't tied the knot before his service. Part of the reason he was alive was because of her friendship with Miguel - her letter that had sparked his friend writing to her had only fueled Miguel’s determination to keep Spooky safe. Will didn't want to think about what would have happened if Miguel had remained distant and possibly stopped trying to talk to him - and he sure didn't want to consider Pumpkin to have been given gold star status that early in a relationship.

No, perhaps this was working out just the way it was supposed to.

He was drawn back to the present moment by a shaky voice.

"You...You don't have a driver's license?"

Will stared blankly at Terry, not feeling the need to explain himself.

"Okey-doke. Well, I - I just gotta - the state law - make a - make a copy of that. And, uh - just gonna take a second on that... copy and... it’s kind of an old machine. Take a - it’s gonna take a second."

Will continued to keep his emotionless expression. He was immensely enjoying how uncomfortable Terry was - knowing that if he wanted information later, he could probably get it if he just made the man nervous like this.

"Okay, ha! Well, here we go. And, uh... It's a real nice room, right up the stairs to the right, all the way down to the end of the hall. Got a great view of Main Street." Terry chuckled nervously, handing the military ID back to Will. He kept on rambling as Will went up the stairs with the phone book, but he was easy enough to tune out.

The room wasn't the nicest Spooky had ever stayed in, but it was cozy and screamed western. He set his bag on the bed, taking note of the quilted comforter. It made his heart leap a little - Pumpkin had always wanted to make a quilt for her bed - and even though she wasn't here, this little reminder of her was something he would take as a sign.

After thumbing through the Yellow Pages and coming up with nothing, he frowned slightly and made his way to the window.

A group of men stood outside, glancing up in his direction. As much as they were trying not to make it obvious, they were. Painfully so.

Pushing his frustration to the back burner, Will's eyes wandered to the signs of the stores. One in particular caught his attention, and he pulled the torn corner of the business card he had found in that pile of dirt Victor had said was Miguel's address.

It matched.

♡ ♡ ♡

"Um, good afternoon, I'll - I'll just be with you in one second." The woman behind the counter said.

Will nodded. His eyes wandered over the store - it was touristy and a convenience store at the same time, but he had heard it had a lending library. Perhaps they had Watership Down - the one he had gotten for Miguel after their recovery in the hospital. Miguel had mentioned reading it several times since he moved to Arizona - it had to be around somewhere.

"Hi, um, so sorry. Can I help you?" The lady asked.

"I'd just like to check out the lending library." Will replied with his usual calm tone.

"Did the cable go out in your hotel room?" At Will's confused look, she chuckled.

"Uh, it's just that I know everyone in town, and, um, the only reason they come by to use the library is because the cable's gone out. You know, they did the whole Wild West look great, but just the modern amenities, you know, not so much. So yeah, you can look in the library, but I have to warn you, it's not the Smithsonian."

"I'm done, I'm done, I'm done!" A little voice cried, footsteps running across the wood flooring.

In a moment, he was taken to the explosion. The little girl. The backpack. Miguel tackling him to the ground. The eruption of flying rubble and sound that made his ears ring for an eternity. Covered in blood.

He couldn't quite process what conversation the woman and her daughter were having, but soon he was able to control his breathing to focus in enough on the present.

"So can I help with the customer? Excuse me, sir, what can I help you with?" The girl asked.

"May I." The woman whispered to her.

"What may I help you with?" The girl smiled at Spooky.

"I just wanted to check out the lending library." He responded.

"Well, that's right over here, silly." The girl took his hand in hers, leading him a little further into the store. Her mom apologized as they passed her at the counter.

"Your hand is all rough. I'm Carly, what's your name?"

"Carly? I thought your mom was Carly."

"Her name's Joanna. She named the store after me. See that over there? That's Carly's corner. It's where my mom used to read to me. Now I read there by myself."

"Hm. So how does this work? Do, uh, people come in with books and trade them for different things?" He looked down at Carly. She was so intuitive, so curious.

"Yeah, lots of times. But usually me and my mom drive up to Aho and get the really old books from the library. They have this ice-cream shop there, and you know what they have?"

"No."

"Malt ball French vanilla. It's my favorite. Do you have a favorite ice cream?"

"Uh..."

"I promise, it's worth it."

Will looked at Pumpkin suspiciously. "Are you sure about that?"

"I am! I usually don't like banana things either - but this... this is it, love. This is the ultimate ice cream flavor. You've got banana, you've got the chocolate chips like that mint one you like, and you've got walnuts. And it all comes together..."

She spooned another little bite and savored it on her tongue.

"Magical."

The next spoonful she held out to him. Unable to hide his smile any longer, he playfully rolled his eyes and ate off the spoon.

It took a moment, but his smile widened.

"You see?! Magical."

"Chunky Monkey." Will replied softly. His hands came across a little paperback, the same size as Miguel's original copy of Watership Down. He skimmed through it, recognizing the handwriting in the margins.

Miguel.

"Excuse me, miss?" He turned around to face the woman at the counter.

"Oh, please, it's Joanna."

"Joanna, uh, do you happen to have a book called, uh, Watership Down?" He saw that same look of recognition, one that would probably be covered with a variety of words.

"That's an awesome book. I read it twice. It's so sad..." Carly said.

"We - we did have a copy, but, um, we gave it away a couple months ago."

Will's heart sunk. Gave it away? How did they get it in the first place? And the underlying question to all of this...

What happened to Miguel?

Joanna sent Carly to the back of the store, back behind the curtain.

"I'm really sorry, she's a bit of a handful sometimes. Um, did you find anything else? Because I really need to close up." She was nervous now. What was going on?

"Um, the people who you buy books from, do you have a list of some sort?"

"No, no, nothing like that."

"Do you know of a Miguel Silva?"

"No, that name doesn't ring a bell." She wasn't making direct eye contact as she messed with things on the counter.

"I thought you said you knew everyone in town."

"You ask a lot of questions for someone who's just looking for a book to read. But, you know, I really have to - have to close." Joanna said nervously as the broken straw hat man from earlier appeared in the store. Spooky began to put pieces together, and decided that he'd take this book with him. It was the last piece of Miguel he could find in New Lago - it had to help him somehow.

"Okay, I'll just check this out."

"Oh, okay. Um...You know what? I - I seem to have run out of, um, the loan-out forms. Um, so if you can come back tomorrow and I'll give it to..." Her demeanor became even more nervous as she saw what book it was. She knew something.

"That's all right, I'll just buy it."

"We're purely a lending library. So if you come at 9 a.m., I'm sure I'll have the forms." She replied, still eyeing the straw hat man in the entryway, obviously pretending to be interested in something as he listened to their conversation.

"Okay, I understand." Will turned back towards the bookshelf. He walked to the back, pretending to put the book back on the shelf, but instead slipping it into his jacket's inside pocket.

"I'm really sorry I can't be of more help." Joanna said.

"No, you were very helpful. You've got a great kid." Will gave her a kind smile before walking back out onto the street. He pulled the book out with a smirk, opening it to look at Miguel’s familiar handwriting.

It was five months in, to what would become Will’s nine month stay at the hospital. He was getting better at using the crutches - and they said next week he’d be starting on the prosthetic.

Will wrote a simple thank you inside the front cover. He didn’t have to go further, Miguel would understand.

He removed his IV and hobbled over to Miguel’s side of the curtain, with the book that had finally arrived in his hand.

Of course, as his luck had been so far, just as he got to Miguel, Nurse Duncan appeared, stern like usual.

"Sergeant MacPherson, what are you doing out of bed? You removed your IV again."

"I, uh..." Spooky held the book, looking down at the hardcover between his fingers.

"I don't care. Get back in your bed. And whatever you do, do not wake up Corporal Silva."

"Don't listen to her, Spooky. Nurse D gives a badass sponge bath if you don't behave." Miguel chuckled softly, making Will smile.

"Fine. You two deserve each other. Two minutes." After she left the room, Will set the book down in Miguel's lap.

"What you doing, Spooky? What is this? Where did you get this?"

"eBay."

"You… you bid on an auction for me?" Miguel asked, voice full of emotion. Spooky nodded. "This is the nicest thing anybody ever did for me. I mean, this-- This is really something, man, I mean it."

"Okay."

"You think we can go steady now?" The sparkle of mischief was back in Miguel's eyes as he teased Spooky.

Will rolled his eyes, chuckling under his breath, using his crutches to hobble back to his side of the curtain.

"Thanks, man."

They just had to have Watership Down. Somewhere. He tucked the paperback into his jacket and walked to the diner. He'd need to eat to be able to think straight.

♡ ♡ ♡

The moment Will entered the building, he took note of the sheriff and his deputy, and a few of the men who had been outside the hotel earlier. Eyes on him.

The waitress, a woman probably just a few years older than Erin, had a kind expression, and didn't seem to have that same air of concealing something as so many other people did.

"Well, hey, darling. What can I get ya?"

"What have you got?"

"Honey, we got everything. But you want something special, I'd try the chili, it's world-famous. Well, county-famous."

"I'll have that and, uh, a glass of water."

"You got it."

A few moments later, Joanna came in and sat a few seats down from Will, who was keeping quiet and just observing what was going on, his thoughts as fast as a runaway train trying to piece everything together.

The waitress, Susie, set his bowl of chili in front of him, and he thanked her, trying to be mentally present.

He watched Joanna, seeing that her nervousness from before had increased. She reached over him to get a napkin, dropping something from her hand in the process. It was a smooth motion, nothing anyone would question.

Will glanced at the small, folded piece of paper. The note, after unfolding it read :

Get out of here now!

So she had known something. The door opened, and in his peripheral, the posse of cowboys from earlier was arriving through the entryway. He slid the piece of paper under his bowl, turning his attention to the chili once more as a man in a white shirt whispered to Joanna.

"What? Is it too spicy? Is the vegetable to meat ratio wrong?" Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip like she usually did when she was nervous.

Will swallowed, meeting her eyes, trying his best to keep a straight face.

"Well?" She asked.

"Pumpkin, this chili... is the best I've ever had."

It took her a moment to process what he said, but she began to chuckle and smacked his arm playfully as he ate another spoonful with a smirk. "Oh my gosh, you couldn't have just said that?"

While this chili was pretty good, Will was certain that Pumpkin's was better. His mind wandered to all of her other recipes he missed too. If all went well and they were reunited, he was sure he'd finally be eating well for the first time in the three years he had been home.

The man who had been talking to Joanna took her spot as she sat down at a table in the corner. The moment the stranger opened his mouth, Will knew he didn't like him. He had an air of superiority, a condescending sort of kindness that made his skin crawl. The man tried talking to him, and all Will could offer was blank stares. He offered to buy his meal, and held out his hand.

"John Rhodes." At Spooky's blank stare, he chuckled. "A fellow buys you dinner, you don't even shake his hand?"

"I'll shake your hand." Will replied. He knew John Rhodes. Maybe not directly, but he sure wasn't going to let him buy his dinner. "And I'll buy my own meal."

John continued to talk. His voice was nails on a chalkboard to Will - knowing his background made him sick to his stomach. He complimented Spooky, and said he expected no less from a Marine. Terry at the hotel must have told him, which made Will think more - who in this town wasn't involved in whatever conspiracy was going on?

John then talked about New Lago, claiming he owned most of the town - and that was no surprise.

Fed up with listening to him, Will excused himself, taking his half finished chili and moving further down the bar to a different stool.

This only served to make John chuckle and follow him, sitting in the same proximity as before.

"You're a funny fellow. But even with that said what kind of landlord would I be if I let just anyone saunter on in and cause trouble?"

"I'm no trouble."

"Oh, I'm sure you're not. A man like you, rich heritage."

"Tell me about your parents, Will." She put her chin on her hands, smiling softly at him from across the counter. "Only if you're comfortable, because I know you said you didn't have great relationships with them."

"It's alright." Will's hands ran over her handwriting on the recipe she was testing. "My mom was of Cherokee descent. Just a generation removed, but her dad was from one of the more prominent tribes in Kentucky before he moved his family up here. She was kind, but very quiet. She taught us a lot of things, but she was always sending Erin and I outside to play. I don't know if it was because she didn't want us making a mess in the house or if she didn't want us around to bother her."

Pumpkin's hands came and met his. He smiled as they slid so perfectly into his grasp, as they always had.

"My father was Irish - his parents had moved to Wisconsin when he was little. He had the most wild red hair, sometimes I wondered if we dyed his hair a different color his temper wouldn't have been so bad." He chuckled, and she squeezed his hands. "I think I loved my parents at one point. But after watching them treat me and my sister so poorly for so long..."

Pumpkin watched him carefully, her thumb running over his knuckles.

"I didn't cry at their funeral. I told you about the boat accident they were in... I was shocked, and I did feel sad, but I had spent so long wondering if they ever loved me that I wasn't overcome with grief."

"I'm sorry, Spooky."

Will shrugged his shoulders, squeezing her hands.

"I just don't want my kids to ever feel like that. To ever wonder if they're loved."

"I'm sure they'll know. Any kid would be lucky to have you as their dad."

The soft smile on Pumpkin's face would forever live in Will's memory. It was the expression of someone that understood, even if she hadn't experienced what he had.

She was going to make a fantastic mother someday.

John's irritating voice brought Will back to reality when he mentioned Will's time as a Marine and special forces, noting his numerous commendations.

"Are you... you looking for work, son?"

"I'm looking for a friend."

John rambled on again about trying to be his friend, and was shocked when Spooky knew exactly who he was. When he mentioned Will being a Marine to try and promote whatever cause it was he was talking about, it only further twisted the knife of frustration and uneasiness in his gut.

"I was a Marine a long time ago." Will replied. It felt like such a world away - and he recalled the events since the explosion, seeing how many pieces of himself had gone missing. How gray his life had become. There was no semblance of a Marine in him anymore. The strength and the ability to hold everything together was gone.

"Well, once a Marine, always a Marine... No disrespect intended."

Will looked over at the man. "I'm... not a Marine."

John offered for the sheriff to help him get back to the bus station in the morning. Will began to realize that this search for Miguel was going to be harder than he had anticipated.

"Community service. That's why it's so peaceful around here." John stated proudly.

"Peaceful." Will mumbled, taking his chili for the second time and moving down the bar to the end, next to a pie box. It brought a small amount of peace, knowing she was in everything he could see. He wondered about getting Pumpkin her own pie box - but knowing her baking, she was always giving things away or they were not around long enough - with how many people wanted a slice - to even need a pie box.

After John and Sheriff Bock took the posse of cowboys and left, he was finally able to breathe, and try to calm his stomach as he attempted to finish his chili.

The man with the straw hat - EB, Will learned - rounded the bar as he made some comment about Marines being wimps. The moment the glass of milk was placed on the bar, Will knew what was going to happen.

After it was "accidentally" knocked over and spilled on the counter, a woman came over to clean up the mess that had ensued. Will could tell EB made her uncomfortable just by her initial expression, much less that he felt the need to make an inappropriate comment.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you manners?" Will said quietly.

"What'd you say, boy?" EB leaned onto the bar, obviously pleased he had got to Will, but not happy that he received a cutting response.

"I'm just saying if your mother ever saw the way you're treating that girl... she'd probably die of shame."

EB smacked him, spouting off some other worthless words. Will stood to hit back, arm stretched in a fist. He could see the fear in the man's eyes, as Will was much bigger than him.

But in an instant, his body froze.

"Bomb!!" The face of the little girl, so innocent. The teddy bear. The explosion. Bright lights, ringing in his ears.

Will began to shake a little, falling back onto his seat. He shut his eyes, trying to focus his thoughts on the one person that had ever been able to calm him. His hands moved like hers, and he was able to catch his breath. His stomach was churning like warm twisted taffy now.

EB began to laugh when he realized he wasn't in danger.

"Now, isn't that perfect, huh? Soldier boy's got a headache. There are ladies present. What would your mama say to such a disgusting display, huh? I think it's time for you to go." He grasped Spooky's shoulder, shoving him to turn him around.

Will couldn't hold it in, hunching over as he puked - unfortunately, right on EB's boots.

His mind was still reeling, but when EB swore at him and raised his fist again, Will dodged it. It happened again and again, injuring the man until they were out the door.

Will had left some money on the counter for his dinner, but in letting EB fall flat on his face outside of the diner, he had dropped a napkin.

"Hold it right there, mister. We don't take too kindly to people littering here in God's country." Sheriff Bock must have been waiting there since he left the building with Mr. Rhodes.

And, not letting Will explain himself or have the chance to pick it up, he made the arrest.

♡ ♡ ♡

"You're allowed one call." Sheriff Bock set the phone in front of him.

Will stared at it for a moment. Who would he call?

He couldn't call Erin - she'd go into her big sister mode and call some higher level of authority, and he felt like he was getting closer to finding Miguel. He couldn't leave now without knowing what was going on.

So, he dialed the only other phone number he had ever memorized.

Despite his emotionless expression he was maintaining for the cops, Will found his heart pounding. It had been five years.

Would she answer? Would she be upset? Would she hang up before he could...

"David, please stop calling. I still don't know how you got my number, but like I've told you before. I'm waiting on a soldier who got back from..."

"Pumpkin." Will's heart leapt as he spoke to her for the first time in five years.

There was silence for a moment. He held his breath.

"Spooky?" Her voice cracked.

"Yeah. It's me."

"I got your note." She answered. He could tell she was smiling even though her emotions were high.

"I've missed you so much. I'm sorry I didn't answer your letters and that I've been missing for so long."

"I knew you'd come back someday. Miguel told me you would. Erin told me you would. Gosh..." She chuckled, sniffling softly. "I'm just glad I'm not crazy for believing them."

"You're not crazy, I promise."

"You have a lot of explaining to do, mister."

"I know. I promise I will, when I get back." Will paused. "You know, I haven't seen the Chupacabra yet."

She hesitated. He knew she could tell the code he was trying to use. Will could also sense she was choosing her words carefully.

"Oh? That's strange, because I saw a lot of the Chupacabra when I was down that way."

"I haven't seen it since I arrived this morning - have you heard anything?"

"No, not since three days ago."

Will's heart sunk. Three days ago, he had talked to Miguel on the phone. And if he hadn't been heard from since then - and knowing his mischievous nature and encouragement of pushing Will back towards Pumpkin, he should have called her by now.

"Okay. Well, I will keep looking then."

"Will - before you go, promise me something."

"Anything."

"Promise you'll come home to me. And that you'll stay."

"I promise." Spooky responded without hesitation. "There's nothing else I want to do."

♡ ♡ ♡

The rest of the evening was a blur. The interrogation room, the search, taking his prosthetic from him, throwing him into the shower and then to his cell. And now, John Rhodes was back, trying to hire him to do whatever he wanted.

Will continued to push back, asking about Miguel. When Mr. Rhodes realized that he wasn't going to budge, he chuckled.

"A lot can happen to a man in 90 days. Shoot, a lot can happen in just one night."

"I have an offer for you. You tell me what's happened to Miguel Silva and I won't have to start burning down God's country."

"I respect a man who knows his mind, but remember, a working man held out his hand in friendship."

"You can play dress up all you want, but the only work your hands have ever done is counting money."

"Have yourself a safe night."

♡ ♡ ♡

It was easy enough to fall asleep.

It was a whole different issue being woken up at sunrise with four or five sets of fists everywhere on his body.

They sneered at him - there were cops in uniform and some of those cowboys from the street - like EB, who was still bloodied from his encounter with Spooky the day before.

Seeing a moment of opportunity, he fought back, pushing them off of him and locking them in the cell. He limped to the office, finding his prosthetic and escaping up the flight of stairs at the back of the building.

After securing one of the cop cars, he sped out of town and onto a road. He wasn't sure which direction he was going, but as long as it took him far enough away, it would be fine.

That is, until the rest of them began to chase him.

It all happened so fast. They were arguing over the comms until they realized Will could hear them. Radio silence. Skidding the car as he realized he was backed up against the edge of a cliff, being pushed by another cruiser further towards the edge.

Climbing out of his cruiser and onto the hood of the other one, Will toppled down onto the ground as it backed up.

Rhodes and his posse of cops and cowboys formed a half circle that trapped him against the rocky ledge.

"This sure look familiar, don't it?" EB chuckled, gun drawn.

"Shut your mouth. Back off! Nobody get too close." Rhodes said, and the men backed up a few feet. "Just wouldn't listen, would you?"

"I guess I'm just a slow learner." Will scanned his perimeter, struggling to breathe through his bloody nose, tasting the salt from the blood of his busted lip.

"Yeah, so smart, yet so damn stupid." Rhodes stated plainly, making the men snicker. "Shoot him."

Will's eyes widened, head on a swivel. He couldn't die. Not here. He still had to get home to Pumpkin. He still had to explain everything. Had to kiss her senseless and ask her to marry him and start the life they should have started a long time ago.

"Hold your fire!" Sheriff Bock's voice barked. He turned to Rhodes. "I was okay with E.B. and Lee beating some sense into him, but killing another in cold blood? This ain't what I signed up for."

Will's heart sunk further. 'Killing another'? Could they have... No, surely he was just running on adrenaline and his mind was in worst case scenario mode.

"You signed up to keep the peace. Now do your job." Rhodes chuckled.

"We can't keep doing this."

"What is it? Your conscience or your cowardice? EB." Guns raised again.

But before EB could fire, Don - the deputy - fired first. The force of the shot that grazed his arm sent Will stumbling back, falling about twenty feet.

He heard the helicopter, the rumble of the tires moving on the gravel as he assumed they were close enough to the border that they'd be caught.

The Arizona sun was hot, and unable to keep himself awake much longer, Spooky let his thoughts remain with Pumpkin as he drifted into unconsciousness.

♡ ♡ ♡

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series masterlist

#I am really proud of this #it’s the single longest fic I’ve ever written #and it’s jam packed with hints and ties to all the previous stuff #lots of foreshadowing here too #also kinda sad #cause we are halfway through this 🥺💛#world in color #conspiracy 2008 #conspiracy #spooky #spooky x pumpkin #spooky x reader #spooky and pumpkin #will ‘spooky’ macpherson #william macpherson #will macpherson

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