#*sighs* *loads the shotgun*

[bloodyarn]

@bloodtwin sent

❝ babsi, have you ever jacked off before ？❞ there's a pause before he blinks. realizes. panic builds. . . . WHAT DID YOU JUST ⸻ ？！ ah, another classic puck speaks before he thinks moment. all right, well, he did think about this question. really very hard, actually. but it slipped past his lips without his permission. you can just ask that of a lady ！ eyes bugging out, he is quick to backtrack, ❝ i mean ！i didn't mean to ask that out loud. i was just thinking since you're so. um, lady-like. and uh, proper. not that that should prevent you from- i mean, you're just so- but, surely you've . . . ？like at least once ⸻ ❞ STOP TALKING ！！！ ❝ never mind ！please don't answer that. forget i asked. ❞

   𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 .   unprompted interactions ────────────────────────

      If one could fall prone from a conversation,      Babette would possibly be the first person to ever manage that. There was absolutely no amount of vocabulary able to describe how that little proper lady (as he so kindly pointed out) felt. Ashamed, embarrassed, bewildered too. And the hexblood stood still, choking on her breath. Colors in her face shift around the mighty color wheel, settling for a dark red which spread over her nose  &  forked ears.

   Sometimes she wished Puck wasn't so forward.

    It would keep awful situations like these from happening.

Would Babette consider answering him   ?   SHOULD she   ?   As he said, the woman was a true lady. An innocent being, a lamb. A white rose without thorns. Pure in the public eye  &  truthfully, everyone she met knew her as such. Babette, indulging in such unchastity. Scandalous. What was he thinking   ?   Did he imagine her as some vile pervert behind her tent flap   ? ?   Was that the image she painted in Puck's head   ?

     ❝ Puck . . . ! ❞     A scolding (painful) yelp. She bit the inside of her cheek, the warm hue never disappearing for the duration of their awkward talk.    ❝ That is not something you ask a lady   ! ❞

The hag-in-the-making made an effort shutting her tadpole down, silencing it, lest the connection would build  &  reveal the answer without wanting to. 

     ❝ What in the nine hells gave you that idea   ? ? ? ❞

[keeps-ache]

oohh cheap pen my dear beloved !!

[obbystars]

When Mother Was Here

Synopsis: Kill him. Or let him bleed.

Notes: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / NO ROMANCE IN THIS ONE / Based off of Zeal’s recent post of a scrapped idea / Angst, hurt no comfort, no happy ending / Sebastian backstory spoilers / Violence / Repeated deaths / I suck at writing people fighting, sorry :( / Spot the Gabriel Ultrakill reference / Short (sigh…)

Credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

(OUGHHHHH ZEAL I WISH YOU KEPT THIS IN THE WORKS I don’t think you guys know how fast I RUSHED to make this after I saw the post)

Your orders were simple. Kill Z-13, The Saboteur. Otherwise known to you as Sebastian Solace. For once, they equipped you with a weapon but it wasn’t one that’d prove that effective. At least, not one that’d give you such an advantage against the mutant so that you wouldn’t use it against the guardsmen and other staff. You were still an EXR-P, after all. An expendable. They don’t expect you to accomplish this, but it was the EXR-P that was able to find him because he lets them find him.

You figured you’d have an advantage as he may not be expecting you, an EXR-P, to be armed. Maybe even surprise him. However, that turned out to not be the case. Of course, you weren’t the only one tasked with this. Urbanshade needs him to die.

He had killed you just as quickly as the others, but you surprised him the moment he turned his back to you. He heard faint shuffling and the sound of bones cracking behind him and turned back around. Suddenly, you were standing again as if he didn’t just crush your skull into the ground. The blood was there. The cracks on the floor were there. The blood dripping down your head and onto your prisoner uniform was there.

He stares at you in complete shock for a moment, then he lets out a growl.

“I don’t care how many time you come back,” he stands up straight, “I will break you again and again, paint the walls red with buckets of your own blood! I will rip you limb from limb until even the other expendables start to cry for mercy!! I will ENJOY tearing you apart no matter how many times I have to!!”

Sebastian continues to kill you and you continue to get back up on your feet not a moment too soon. You were practically drenched in your own blood, so were the floors and walls with how gruesome some of your deaths had gotten.

You know he’s getting slower and desperate as you kept coming back and continued to manage a hit. He was running out of ammo for his shotgun and his own blood was starting to spill onto the floor. You soon spot a dead guardsman that still had his gun. It was likely it was still loaded. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to, but do or die over and over and over again. It wasn’t like they told you that you couldn’t do it, but as long as it meant the target is killed, then they shouldn’t stop you.

The gun was loaded. If you die now, he’ll take it off of your cold hands. Maybe even break it so you can’t use it. While you could finish the job without it, it’s always better to have something more sufficient for the job.

At one instance, he had managed to grab you but managed to hit him in the head with the weapon Urbanshade had provided to you. You narrowly missed your kill-shot, however, and only hit his shoulder. Still, it was a hit.

The fight’s gotten to the point Sebastian was trying to find a way to get away from you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to escape and get somewhere safe. His recent failed attempt had you managing to aim your shot to hit his arm. You persisted and aimed your gun as he was making a break for it again.

Click.

Your eyes widened. Of course…

Seeing as you had run out of ammo, Sebastian took this chance to run. You returned to the guardsman still lying right where you found him and reloaded the gun. You looked to where Sebastian had fled to and break into a run. The trail of blood was enough to help you track him down.

You feel exhausted as you continue down the dark hallways. You were practically limping, almost literally dragging yourself to try and catch up to Sebastian. You eventually stumble upon a dimly lit room. You recognized this room. The trail leads into the vent. Yes, you know this room.

As you emerged through the other side, you hear someone sobbing. You spot him in the corner, and the sight made you freeze. You don’t know why you froze, or why you lowered the gun.

“M..mom…?” You watch as he reaches out with a trembling hand. To you? It seems like it, but it’s not you he’s seeing, “Are… Are you there..?”

The grip on your gun begins to falter. Your hands begin to shake as you listen to his cries for a mother who wasn’t here. Begging for her to come back. Maybe you’ve forgotten who exactly you were standing in front of. You’ve read his document. Judging by the years listed of when everything happened, you don’t think you’d be surprised if he was still with his family. His mother.

Someone who was accused and sentenced to death for murder, a murder he was not guilty of. It was only because of the official statement made of his execution that this information was not relayed to him or to his family. His family does not know he’s alive, nor do they know he’s not guilty. All they know is that their son was a murderer.

Why can’t you do it? Put him out of his misery. It should be easy. It’s mercy. End his suffering. They’ll kill you if you don’t do it. He’ll kill you again if you don’t do it. If not you, someone else.

You can’t move.

[shanastoryteller]

Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

[m4nspr34d]

TWENTYSOMTHIN’

Dean Winchester X M!reader

Warnings : Angst, fluff. Nothing extreme

Summary : After a few years of dating you finally bring up the topic of marriage, which you two have only briefly spoken about. Dean shows displeasure at the idea, reminding you of when you first met.

It had been months since you and Dean had spoken about where your relationship was heading for the future, something that he got angsty about when you brought it up. Marriage was a big no for him; and for a long time, you were completely with him.

Your eyes followed him as his head moved to the best of guns and roses playing, watching as he loaded the shotguns full of salt. The thought was unbearable, you couldn’t shake it no matter how hard you tried.

“What’d you do if I proposed?” He stopped, his eyes widening for a moment as his hands halted. “What?” His eyes stayed on the shotgun, his hands still. “If I proposed.” You placed the shotgun onto the table, leaning back and crossing your arms, letting him know this was the conversation you wanted to have; the one you needed to have. “Are you gonna?” His eyes lifted, his eyebrows doing the same. “Well— No.” You said, thinking for a moment. You weren’t sure if he meant at this very moment, or ever, but no seemed like a good choice for now. “It doesn’t matter then.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, watching as he disregarded you and went back to the shotgun. “No, we need to talk about this.” “No, we don’t.” “Yes, we do!” You weren’t going back and forth with him about this, so you tore the shotgun from his grasp and threw it onto the bed, sitting on the edge, having to turn your neck to face him. “What’s this even about, you said you didn’t wanna get married.” He said, a sigh; a deep bothered sigh lining his words. “That was years ago, Dean.” You softened your voice, innocence.

“You know how I feel about it, it’s dumb, the whole thing.” He grimaced at the thought, looking away from you. It wasn’t something you expected him to like, but that didn’t make it any less painful. “I don’t think so.” The tone of your voice dropped, turning you head away from Dean, both of you facing in opposite direction’s. “I’d do anything to put a ring on your finger.” His breath paused. He had never considered it, of course he couldn’t imagine his life without you, he wanted to grow old with you, but he never even saw both of you getting old.

It was silent, he was lost for words, it hurt, it hurt so bad. “Seeing you in a suit, our first dance, sitting at that table with you, eating fancy meals, all of it.” Still silence. You had no more words to say, not till he gave it the light of day, you felt like you were taking to a damn therapist. “Jesus— Will you say something!?” “What’d you want me to say?!” Truly, you had no idea. If he said yes; it’d feel like a compromise, something to shut you up. If he said no; well, you had no clue.

“You know I wanna be with you forever—“ “Then marry me.”

…

“Dean?” “I can’t, you know I can’t. But it means nothing, a ring won’t make us official, that’s our call.” His hand trailed to your’s, his finger tips rubbing against your finger; your empty, ring-less finger. You pulled away, squeezing your eyes shut. You wanted to walk away, come back and forget this conversation happened, but it was too late. You knew he wasn’t ready to commit to you, is he waiting for someone better? No.. Maybe?— No. Your thoughts were the loudest thing in the room, not your words, not his, not even the busted AC. “

“So would you say no?” Your voice was cold, blank as you shut your eyes, taking in the silence while it was there.

He inhaled sharply, biting his lip as he clenched his jaw, balling his hands into a fist. He felt like rolling over and dropping dead, this was the last thing he wanted, it had come on him so unexpectedly, like a bad cold. “Yes.” He said, finally mustering up the courage. You’re eyes squeezing shut as you felt an itch on the corner of your eyelid, followed by a tear as you steadied your prolonged inhale.

You giggled as you watched the twentysomthin’ man smirk at you, licking his teeth as your eyes locked within his. “You’re really something.” Your eyes narrowed as you spoke, chuckling. “Maybe, you like it though.” He said, a sultry tone coating his lips as the words rolled off. You don’t even know this guys name, his age, for all you know he could be some crazy bastard. “You ain’t gonna ask me my name, sweetheart.” His hand leaned against the back of the bench, wiping the snow from it, the small flakes tapping off the sleeve of his jacket. “Enlighten me.” His smirk grew, his head turning away for a moment as his tongue clicked. “Dean.”

Dean. Fitting, not sure why but— it was. 20 Minutes ago you were sitting out the back of the club, contemplating weather to spend your last few bucks on a box of cigs, but you had completely forgotten about it by the time this guy: Dean, had weaselled you down the street to the park bench in the middle of December, snow and all. “Let me guess, bartender?” You were sure you were right, that charming face was bound to get his tips up. “Not even close.” You scoffed, surprised you were wrong. “What is it then.” Your chest rose and sank with each breath, the cold air flowing towards the ever shrinking space between the two. “Cars, I fix cars.” “So a mechanic?” You said, raising your eyebrows, tilting your head. “Guess so.” You decided not to question his awfully vague answer. “And you?” He said, his eyes still fixed on you, the small white dots of frosty snow scattered around your clothes. “In between.” “In between jobs and you have time to blow your buck on a cheap bar in the middle of the city?” His voice laced with that undermining tone he’d been slipping.

Who even was this guy, really. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, something so unexpected, so— everything. “Tell me somethin’, you got a boyfriend? A husband?” He said, his eyes widening as his words trailed. “God no, never. Marriage makes me nauseous.” A chuckle followed you words, a quick glance to the marina, the snow lacing the black railing. “There has got to be a catch with you.” The tension was tight, airtight, feeling the air around you stiffen, the snow became background, your attention fixated on him, and only him.

Divider’s: @cafekitsune 💌 : Another short little fic. In complete honesty, I acc got the idea from the song twentysomthings, i’m not acc sure who sings but, oh well! But I got like, this cute little picture in my mind of Dean and whoever sitting out on a bench by the water late at night, snow everywhereee!! Super cute imo. I’ll try my best to do a longer more fleshed out fic, and eventually smut when i’m ready. 🌹

[s0urw00lf]

You matter too

Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister!reader, Dean Winchester x sister!reader

Summary: Your heart breaks a little more when you run into Sam and dean (your brothers) after being casted out by your father years before his death.

Warnings: angst, being disowned, familial heart ache.

When you got home from work you immediately kicked off your heels, ridding yourself of the strain they had put on your feet all day. You looked around your apartment noting how dark it was ‘Aaron must not be home’ you thought to yourself, making your way through the darkness to your bedroom and into the closet, hastily changing into more comfortable clothes you tried to give yourself some relaxation and comfort after your hard day at work dealing with that asshole mark who couldn’t mind his business to save his damn life. You wished Arron was home so you could curl up to him and rant about how much you wanted to strangle that CEO asshole with his tie.

Exiting your closet you sighed, making your way to the kitchen to find something to eat before you heard what sounded like your glass potted plant fall over. Immediately you tensed, stopping all movements, pausing your breath as you strained to hear anything else. When you heard hushed voices it sent you into full throttle. You quickly but quietly made your way to your bed and pulled out the coffin-sized box filled with guns and ammunition and grabbed your shotgun mentally thanking god that you kept it loaded, not wasting any time you slowly tiptoed out of your bedroom looking around the corner and your heart dropped when you spotted to decently sized men seemingly in a disagreement.

“Are you sure this is it?” The shorter one asked, “yes this is the address he gave us” the taller one said, and again your heart dropped. This could be anybody coming to make you pay your dues. After you’d been practically disowned by your father you’ve been on your own since 15, and of course, you’ve made some very stupid choices and gotten in with the wrong people. Now 20 with a full-time job and career you figured your past had finally caught up with you. With your heart racing you stepped out from your hiding place and quickly jumped on the one closest to you, harshly pressing the pressure point in his neck rendering him unconscious, you let him fall and put all of your attention on the taller one, you cocked your gun and pointed it at his forehead and he did the same to you. “You’ve got .3 seconds to tell me what you want before I put a bullet in your brain” you threatened.

You couldn’t see the man's face in the darkness especially since his back was facing the window, his tall frame cast a shadow over you. Your heart raced in your ears “3” you began counting, and quickly the man dropped his hand holding the gun. “2” you continued in confusion, as you started with the last number the man in front of you said your name. You paused in shock, nobody you dealt with in the past knew your real name, you weren’t that stupid. Nobody outside of your family and your boyfriend knew your real name. “Who are you” you questioned, moving your finger to the trigger. “Y/n it's me” the man spoke quickly. And for what you doubt would be the last time that night. Your heart stopped. But not in fear, this time it was in shock. You backed up making your way towards the light switch, keeping your gun pointed at his head. When you flicked on the light and it filled the room your tense frame immediately softened. “Sam,” you said, in shock.

He awkwardly smiled and sent you a wave “Hey” he said, you stared at him, taking him in. The last you saw him, right before he went to college he was skinnier and a little shorter. He seemed to be doing the same thing with you. “You’re so grown up” You nodded awkwardly. Just then it dawned on you that he hadn’t come alone, you circled the couch blocking your view of the man you knocked unconscious. Immediately when your eyes set on him your heart tightened in guilt, “oh god Dean” you said dropping your gun and falling to your knees assessing his head, which had been bleeding. He probably hit his head on the coffee table on his way down. Just as you sat down Dean began to groan, you sat back as his eyes opened, seemingly adjusting to the light before setting his eyes on you. His face immediately changed, and you couldn’t tell what the expression meant. After spending a little over five years away from him you were practically strangers.

“Hey kid,” he said, groaning as she sat up. You winced “not much of a kid anymore if you haven’t noticed” you said. You stood up, looking back and forth between your two older brothers. “What’re you doing here?” You asked folding your arms. Dean stood up joining Sam, awkwardly standing in the middle of your living room. They both looked at each other, silently debating who would be the one to talk, unfortunately, the torch fell into Dean's hands “We wanted to see you” he said with an idiotic smile. You tilted your head not believing him for one second “Then why didn’t you use the door like a normal person” you asked. Dean awkwardly laughed quickly glancing at Sam who rolled his eyes “We need your help finding Dad” he said. You smiled bitterly “Ah, there it is,” you said. You moved over to your kitchen, resuming your task of finding something to eat.

“C'mon y/n don’t be like-“Dean started but you cut him off. “Like what?!” You turned around and shouted at him. “Don’t act like you don’t care, our father is missing-“Dean said, but was cut off by Sam this time “Dean-“ he started but was cut off by you walking toward him. “No, that's where you’re wrong, that is not my father. Maybe a small part of the reason I’m here but he.Is.not.my.father” you seethed. “So what were not your brothers now?” Dean said raising his voice a little bit. “I don’t know, are you dean? Because I don’t recall you reaching out in the past five years. I don’t recall you fighting for me to come home. You wanna know what I recall?” You asked stepping closer to him. Sam watched from behind Dean, he wasn’t there when you were kicked out but he wished he was. “I recall being hated by that man. The unwanted bastard child of John Winchester, that's what I was. And that day he left me at that motel I begged you to stay with me. Not to leave me and you did. I watched you drive away into the sunset while I sat alone in this big world full of monsters wondering how I'd survive alone at fifteen.” Tears began to flood your eyes, as you relived the heartbreak you tried to bury for five years.

“Five years. No calls, no visits, nothing. I was alone and I had to learn how to survive alone Dean and you weren’t there, so I tried to go visit Sam” you said, teary eyes cutting over to Sam, “but he didn’t want anything to do with me, wouldn’t even hear me out as I begged and pleaded for him too. But nope he sent me away, just like john, just like you,” you said trying your best not to sob in front of your brothers. “My big brothers, who promised to protect me, who swore to me that no harm would ever come my way as long as you were alive.”

Sam and Dean stood in front of you, both of their eyes were teary and you didn’t feel the least bit bad, you were happy they were feeling even a fraction of what you felt all those years ago. “John never wanted another kid let alone a daughter, he took me in because he had to. And it took me a while to realize that the same applies to you too” you said, your voice cracked as tears poured freely from your eyes. The silence that followed your statement was deafening. Neither of your brothers could even start to fathom what you’d been through in the time you were alone. The silence was cut when your front door opened, you quickly turned around and rushed to meet your boyfriend at the door. “Hey honey how- why are you crying?” He asked worriedly cupping your cheeks and whipping your tears. Instead of saying anything, you dragged him to the opening of the apartment so he could see for himself. “Family reunion” you whispered so only he could hear. His face immediately changed into pity.

Aaron knew your past having come from a slightly similar background. You turned to Sam and Dean, who hadn’t moved from their spot “You have a-” “boyfriend yeah” you cut Sam off wiping your tears. Glancing from them to Arron who was just shocked. Dean stepped forward, seemingly to play protective older brother, and for some reason, you didn’t stop him. Because even after the hurt they’d caused you, some part of you, maybe that small 15-year-old you, still wanted your big brothers in your life.

Surprisingly to you, Dean didn’t say anything to you, Aaron, he came to embrace you. Sam followed quickly after and joined the hug. Right there and then, you felt all of your hatred and anger towards them melt away. Neither of them was in the clear, but you didn’t want to go the rest of your life hating your brothers because they were too afraid to stand up to your dad. You knew they had their reasons, and even some things couldn’t be placed on John but you were willing to give it a shot at rekindling the relationship you had with them.

Your boyfriend stood behind you watching happily as you embraced your brothers, it was the most relaxed he’d ever seen you and he wanted to keep seeing you in said state. Sam pulled away first, then Dean did and you all stared at each other. “I’m sorry kid, every day after we left you I tried to find you but you were too good, I resented Dad for years after that, and even started hunting on my own because I couldn’t look him in the face and stand the fact that he left you and I didn’t say a damn thing about it,” dean said, the sincerity was shown on his face, and you knew dean was never one to show hid emotions ore even apologize at that, but you could see that he meant every word that spilled out of his mouth.

Sam apologized next “I i wish id known that's why you were there, I thought Dad had talked you into talking me into coming home, and I knew if you did that I would have come without second thought.” He said. You couldn’t find anything to say. You brought them in for another hug, squeezing them as tight as you could before pulling away. you looked at Aaron who stood behind you with a smile on his face “Sam, Dean, this is Aaron, my boyfriend” you said introducing them. Sam was the first to step forward to shake Aaron’s hand “Nice to meet you man” he said with a smile. “You too” Aaron replied. Dean shook his hand next, as much as he wanted to play that overprotective role, he hadn’t earned that right so he played fair and shook his hand giving Aaron a tight-lipped smile.

The three of you knew you had a long way to go, but you were happy to begin the journey.

[blackseafoam]

Marked Part III

A Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption crossover AU (with illustrations)

PART 1 - PART 2

Word count: 2002

CW: Stuff you'd normally find in a western story. Swearing, smoking, gun touting, bullet wounds, horse jokes.

“Why do you keep looking over there? The job is as good as done, Arthur.” Javier gestured with his whiskey glass, elbows planted on the bar top.

“Yeah, have a drink. We earned it.” Lenny nodded with his beer.

“Slow down, Summers, remember the last time you came here to ‘wind down’” Javier jabbed, snickering.

“Shut up, Esquella.” Lenny muttered into his glass as he raised it.

Arthur barely noticed the two bickering. His mind elsewhere. There was a nagging feeling those three soldiers weren’t done fighting yet. The energy between those men was almost as if they could talk without speaking. Their expressions clearly showed they were not ready to give up yet. Like an animal in a snare, biting and scratching to its last breath, chewing off its leg to get away if it has to.

He sipped his whiskey but kept one eye dutifully on the front of the Sheriff's office, just in case, even as the sun went down and the warm light of lanterns and candles became the only way to see.

BOOM. Every glass on every table shuddered at once. Lenny choked on his drink.

Dutch’s boys knew the sound of dynamite all too well. Arthur got to his feet and ran outside, closely followed by his inebriated posse.

The side of the sheriff's station was blown wide open, a gaping hole in the wall revealed the inside of the holding cell, and prisoners nowhere to be seen. Arthur cursed, making eye contact with the deputy inside, on the other side of the bars, standing frozen in shock.

“Damn, these guys might be even crazier than us.” Lenny huffed. Javier sighed with frusdration.

“Goddamn. I can’t believe it.” Arthur couldn’t help but sound a little impressed.

Arthur’s attention went to the muddy ground, to the scrambling footprints, four, no, five sets of boots led toward the main road, then disappeared.

“They got on a wagon, come on.” Arthur growled, then turned to get his horse. This bounty was now officially giving them a run for their money.

“Do you think they heard that?” Wrecker laughed as soon as his brothers climbed aboard the wagon. With a flick of the reins they were off as quickly as Murray could pull the full load. Tech, being the designated driver, climbed to the front and took the reins. They headed south out of the town,the opposite direction of their old camp. It almost felt good to get into some action again, almost.

“Where’s Meggy?” Hunter huffed as he took a seat.

“In here!” His seat spoke. Echo huffed a laugh as Hunter stood in shock and opened the crate. The three siblings in the cargo area shared a reunion hug.

“How touching.” Crosshair caught up to the wagon on Havoc, rifle trained to the sky in one hand, reins in the other. The jet black steed’s nostrils flaring with excitement. “Celebrate later, we’re being followed.” He cast a glance over his shoulder.

Three horsemen coming up from behind caught the light of the train station on the edge of town. Barely visible at this distance, but closing fast.

“Did you bring our guns?” Echo began moving the supply crates to barricade the rear of the open wagon.

“In here!” Meggy handed him a saddlebag from the floor.

Echo moved one crate toward the front of the wagon. Hunter motioned Meggy to take cover behind it. “Do not move from this spot until we say so.” He said sternly. Meggy looked at him with eyes wide open, nodding and sitting frozen still. The intensity in his expression taking her aback.

Wrecker loaded his sawn-off shotgun, Echo spun his pistol, and Hunter turned the safety off of his revolver. Tech urged the horse to continue as fast as he dared into the night. He wasn’t familiar with this road but from his vague recollection of maps it was relatively straight.

The first shot rang out, splintering through the back of the driver’s seat. Missing Tech’s hip by inches. Being on the wagon meant their aim would be marginally better than their pursuers at full gallop. Hopefully.

Sure enough, it was their three escorts from earlier that came into view in the moonlight. One of them took another shot, but it went wide. Hunter and Echo returned fire, forcing the bounty hunters to spread out evasively. Meggy watched in horror over the crate, covering her ears and not daring to move a muscle as she crouched in the corner. Her limbs shook with adrenaline.

“We are not going to outrun them, we need a plan!” Tech called over his shoulder.

“No way we’re surrendering!” Wrecker bit out as he rolled into the back to take cover.

“I have an idea.” Tech gritted his teeth and veered the wagon onto the train tracks.

“TE-ECH, what are you do-oing!?” Echo yelled, the seriousness in his tone cut by his jostling voice. The wagon wheels bumped violently as they rolled over the railroad ties.

“Blackwater!” Is all he said in response.

Echo didn’t have time to ask more questions, as more shots rang out. A shot went straight through Hunter’s side, and into the crate protecting Meggy.

Hunter staggered, Echo noticed. “Hunter’s hit!” He announced. Hunter was still firing after he stumbled to his knees, Wrecker stowed his shotgun went to his brother’s aid. His close-range weapon wasn’t much help in the firefight anyway.

“We still need more distance!” Crosshair spat, his expression steeling as he thought. He knew that as soon as their enemies caught up with the wagon, it was all over. And they were getting uncomfortably close by the second.

The massive railroad bridge that was Bard’s Crossing stretched high over the yawning mouth of the Dakota River before it spanned out into Flat Iron Lake. Tech was leading them straight for it, an absolute madman, but probably one of the only people who could pull it off. Crosshair couldn’t help but smirk at his brother, the lunacy of the situation.

In that moment, Crosshair realized what he needed to do. He slowed Havoc to a canter. The stallion grunted, wanting to stay with his herd.

“Crosshair, what are you doing?!” Wrecker called out, crouched over Hunter, trying to staunch the hole in his side.

“Buying time.” Crosshair said, releasing the reins to cock his rifle. Using his seat to further slow his horse.

“This isn’t part of the plan!” Tech started to slow Murray.

“Too bad, it is now. GO! I’ll meet you in Blackwater.”

Tech nodded reluctantly, and urged Marauder back up to speed.

“This is not good, we shouldn’t split up!” Echo lowered his pistol, watching Crosshair and Havoc disappear into the darkness. “Running off to be the hero never works Crosshair!” He futilely called after his brother.

After the bridge, Tech steered the wagon back onto the road uncomfortably close to an oncoming train, thankfully still going slow as it left the nearby station. He cast an apologetic wave at the conductor who was visibly angry. They pulled the wagon over as soon as possible, Tech held up the driver’s lantern to check on Hunter. “How bad?” He was almost afraid to ask.

“A little worse than a graze, but I don’t think it hit anything important.” Wrecker reported.

“I’d… beg to differ, Wrecker. Feels pretty important.” Hunter huffed a small laugh which became a groan.

Echo rummaged through the kitchen crate for a whiskey bottle. Handing it to Hunter, who took a long swig before returning it. His face scrunching in anticipation before Echo splashed the stinging liquid onto the wound.

Tech finished by cleaning and staunching the wound with fabric from their triage kit, leftover from the war. They hadn’t had much use of it since then. After the train went by they were left in hanging silence. The tension began to abate, though worry about Crosshair still hung in the air. Wrecker looked out toward the bridge as if he could see his brother through the darkness if he tried hard enough.

Echo turned toward Meggy, still cowering in the corner of the wagon. Still doing exactly as Hunter instructed, staying put. Her face was lined with horror and her eyes were wet, as she hugged her still shaking legs.

“Hey, hey Meggy. We’re okay.” Echo went to her side. She glanced at him, then looked back toward Hunter and Tech. “Here, uh, come sit up here.” He took her elbow. The poor girl looked shell-shocked as if she were the one who’d been through a war. She took his offer to get up off the floor and sit on a crate with him, still shivering.

Crosshair halted Havoc, still on the bridge. He could already hear the hoofbeats of his pursuers pounding on the wooden struts. He deftly uncaulked his rifle and stowed it in the saddle as he slid off. Walking several paces toward the enemy, he raised his hands toward the stars above.

The gang got on their way again. “The closer we are to Blackwater, the safer we’ll be.” Tech assured, steering Murray to ford a shallow creek, letting the loyal beast take a long drink of water before continuing on.

“Why’s that?” Hunter croaked, taking another swig of whisky while trying to get comfortable against a sideways barrel close to Meggy’s seat.

“A few weeks ago the Van der Linde gang were here, and… left quite the mess.” Tech snapped the reins and Murray continued at a walk. “The gang robbed the Blackwater ferry. $150,000, according to the paper.” He added.

Wrecker whistled in amazement. “That’s a lot of cash…”

“It was a bloody affair, the Pinkertons got involved.”

“We should probably stay far enough away from the town if there are feds about, not to mention in case Meg–, I mean our wanted posters have made it out here.” Echo pointed out, casting a glance at Meggy beside him, still as a statue with Echo’s jacket draped over her shoulders. Hunter looking at her with concern, despite being the only one bleeding.

“Meggy, are you okay?” Hunter put the bottle to the side and reached out to her, wincing as the motion tugged painfully.

“She’s not hurt...” Echo pondered. “I think she’s scared, but she hasn’t said anything.”

“I’m okay.” Meggy nodded, and a tear ran down her face. She wiped it quickly, hoping no one saw.

Her brothers continued to console her as the wagon continued into the dark.

Arthur, Javier and Lenny rode up on the lone dark-clad outlaw with guns drawn.

“You’re coming with us.” Lenny spat, leveling his pistol.

“I would like to come to an arrangement.” Crosshair called out. “I have… a proposition.”

Lenny and Javier looked at Arthur, who raised his chin in interest. “Let’s talk somewhere we aren’t about to get crushed by a train.” He responded after a beat of consideration. Crosshair spun around and saw the light of an engine appearing on the other end of the bridge, when he turned back around Dutch’s boys were trotting back to solid ground. Crosshair mounted up and followed.

“You sure this is a good idea, Morgan?” Javier chided.

“Let’s hear him out. It’s our only option now.” Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder in the direction of Blackwater.

Between two prairie hills just outside Blackwater, the Bad Batch gang had settled in for the night, huddled against the wagon with a small campfire. Coyotes yapped nearby, and the crickets added to the chorus with their own nighttime song. Meggy laid on her bedroll between Hunter and Wrecker. Tech took the first watch after he untacked Marauder and brushed him. All five of them were silent with worry since the wagon wheels stopped. Every little sound had Tech looking up from what he was doing, hoping it was Crosshair catching up with them. Wrecker took the next watch, then Echo. Meggy and Hunter were allowed to sleep off the ordeal. The night slid by with no sign of their absent brother.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905 @omegafett99 @griffedeloup @happydragon @fionas-frenzy @dizzy-9906 @coruscanti-travelguide

Author's note:

"It didn't hit nothin' important!!" That scene from the Ballad of Buster Scruggs kept playing in my head while I wrote this. I might add some more illustrations to this later, cuz I still have some ideas, but for now I just wanted to get this OUT THERE. I've completed a rough outline of the whole story at this point, and I'm so excited for the stuff at the climax. I have no idea how many chapters this will be but I'm trying to keep each one around 1.5 - 3k words.

I am so grateful for the positive feedback on the first two chapters thank y’all so much! I am certainly not the most experienced writer, and have been kind of hard on myself with this chapter, but had to keep remembering that this is all just for fun and doesn’t have to be perfect.

[amoosarte]

𝓞𝙐𝙍 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝘿𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙎, LANDO NORRIS

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝐈. THE START OF AN ADDICTION

SUMMARY, after a brutal breakup Loretta has had enough time to be cooped up on her ranch, leaving her friends to drag her out to have a fun night out, since it's her first time being out since her break up, many eyes follow her every step, until she meets an unusual man at the club.

WARNINGS, this contains explicit language, mention of cheating, alcohol, sexual intentions, making out to sex, and the mention of one night stands.

   Loretta didn’t know what she did to deserve what was happening to her right now. The twenty-five-year-old was about to lose it when she saw her now ex-boyfriend fucking a stupid redneck in her truck.

The ounce of disgust that spilled all over her face when she open the back of her truck to some ass. Making the unfaithful bastard gasp and pull the girl off of him, calling out to the girl who slammed the car door shut.

Loretta ran back into the house, making the pair in her truck hurry up to dress themselves. The redneck gasped in horror when she saw the barrel racer fuming back outside─only this time she wasn't playing.

Loretta knew it wasn't the smartest move, but she didn't give a fuck when she loaded her shotgun. Cocking the gun, letting a new round of ammo prepare itself to be fired.

"Darling, please, let's talk about this!" The man tried to reason with her, but it only her aim the gun towards him. "You and your bitch get the fuck off my property!" Loretta's eyes spoke anger, making him drag the girl out of the truck.

"Darling, let's talk about this please." He tried to reason with her, making her lose her cool. She fired the weapon right next to the ground where they stood, making them scream. "I ain't playin’ with you! Take your bitch home and expect your shit to be dumped out by the road." Lorette screamed.

"Y-You're fuckin' crazy!" The redneck screamed, clutching the back of the man's shirt. Loretta laughed at her remark, not faltering the gun once. "You're fuckin' stupid for messin' around with a barrel racer, don't think I don't know you, you're the little bitch who picks up the cow shit." Loretta laughed at her as she got red.

Loretta allowed her eyes to shift to the man guarding the girl. "Well then, scram!" With that the pair scrambled away, making the girl form a frown. Once the pair left in his truck, Loretta sighed, what was she going to do now?

Did the breakup affect her? She would say no, but to her workers, they would say it did. Loretta never left the ranch after the confrontation. She tended to her job, gathering the sheep, leading the herd of cows to their designated land, training the horses, and much more.

She worked herself to the bone, not wanting to talk to anyone at all. She sold her truck with the help of a friend, she dumped everything she found that was his. She refurbished her home like she always wanted, and she changed her way of life.

She changed, she had given herself a makeover. She wanted to enter a new era of her life, after 5 months, she was glowing.

The blonde woke up when her rooster called out, jumping out of bed and readying herself for some horseback riding. It was a good way to start her morning, the misty morning allowed fresh air into her lungs.

Watching the sunrise made her warm as she looked at the oranges, pinks, and yellows scattered around the sky. She would greet the group of men who worked with her to keep the land tightly. It was a normal day for her until her friends showed up.

"No."She bluntly told them, making them roll their eyes. "Yes, you are coming out with us tonight," Heidi told her, making the blonde huff around her office. Daniel was standing by the door as he watched his girlfriend and his friend bicker back and forward.

"C'mon Loretta, it would be nice if you got out of the house once in a while!" Daniel called out, making the girl glared at him. "You guys know, I don't want anything right now!" Loretta established her statement with her friend.

"Yes, we understand you on that, but you can still go out as a single gal!" Heidi smiled as she watched the girl consider it. "Please! You've just been cooped up on the ranch! If it's not here you're either at the bar or doing barrel racing!" Heidi begged her friend, making her groan.

"Alright, I'll go! But don't make me third wheel!" Loretta pointed at the couple, making the girl scream in delight and the man laugh.

"Okay, we'll see you there! Don't be late." Heidi smiled and walked away with her boyfriend. Loretta smiled at her friend's attempt, now she sighed. What was she going to wear? She hadn't gone out in a long time, perhaps if she dug around well, she could find something.

When the time came nearing, Loretta dismissed the workers, telling them they had the day off tomorrow. She wore a flared jean jumpsuit that had a slit opening near her chest, exposing her breast a tad, then added an aqua-detailed western concho belt and her cleanest boots under her pants. She styled her hair in a blown-out style before fixing her makeup, and then running out the door into her new truck.

To say the least, Loretta was pissin’ her pants as she walked into the bar. Trying to find her friends in the crowd of people, she tried her best to go into a crowd of people, but after being pushed around and whistled down on, she huffed and pulled out her phone. 

Loretta sat at the bar, telling Heidi where she was at. She told the woman behind the bar she wanted a beer, wanting nothing but to chug the shit down, and she did. “Woah, shouldn't you savor the flavor?” Loretta swallowed the bitter liquid down before looking at the man beside her. 

He was wearing a black button-up, one of the expensive ones she thought, and a pair of white fancy pants and to her surprise shoes, and not a pair of boots. She finally looked at the man who caught her attention, a nicely tanned man, who had a growing goat tee and the most remarkable pair of aquamarine-colored eyes. 

“Why would you want to savor such a bitter flavor?” Loretta asked him, making him raise an eyebrow. “It’s more about the nice cold liquid that does down my throat that I like,” Loretta told him before finishing the bottle. “Say, why are you dressed like that?” She asked him, making him smile. 

“My friend never told me the dress code, his fault I’m standing out so much.” He said before flagging down the bartender. “Ah, they dragged you down here?” Loretta asked him, making the man nod. “Two beers, Honey,” Loretta told the bartender, making the man right next to her confused. “It’s on me since I’m guessing you're more of a whiskey type of man?” Loretta assumed, and oddly she was correct. 

“The beer here is the best, in my opinion, you ought to give it a try.” She placed the beer bottle in front of him before taking a swing for herself. “Lorry!” A sweet voice called out behind her, making her turn over in her chair. “Ah, We finally found ya!” A male voice called out right behind the sweet one. 

Daniel and Heidi smiled at the pair, making them look at each other. “Lando this is Loretta, Loretta, Lando, if you guys haven't introduced yourselves yet,” Daniel said. Lando looked at Loretta before raising his hand for her to shake. “Pleasure.” 

“Likewise.” Loretta smiled at the man, then took a swing of her beer before hopping off from her seat and dragging Heidi towards the dance floor. As the pair of men watched as the girl danced, they soon turned to themselves to bicker.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the fucking dress code!” Lando scolded him, making Daniel laugh. “You told me we were going to a club!”Lando playfully shoved him, making him turn red. 

“We are, aren’t we?” Daniel sent him a smirk, making the man groan. “Man, you know what I’m talking about! Plus why didn’t you tell me she was hot too!” Lando wanted nothing but to shrink down and hide. “I have a girlfriend.” Daniel rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend. 

“Either way!” Lando looked at the pair who was having the time of their life, making him think hard. “Is she single?” Lando asked, making Daniel nod. “Yup, but she said she ain’t ready for another relationship, perhaps you can change her mind, eh?” He told him. 

The night had worked in Loretta's favor, she will admit, she was having fun. As she made her way back to the bar, she noticed the same man parked in his seat. “Have you just been sat there?” She asked, getting his attention. “A beer please.” She said as she sat right next to him again.

“I’m a bit embarrassed, to be honest,” Lando told her, taking a sip of his margarita. “Why? Is it because of your outfit?” She asked, and she got her response when he nodded. “Please, you look fine, y’know what?” Loretta once again chugged her beer down, it was a nasty habit of hers. Lando got confused as she pulled him out of his chair. 

“We are going to dance,” Loretta told him before spinning around and leading him to the floor. Lando looked around him, seeing a bunch of country folk dance together. “Sorry, but I don’t know how to dance like this?” Lando looked at her nervously.

“It’s fine, I got boots, feel free to step on my toes.” Loretta joked around, trying to ease him up. 

As they stood in position, she looked at him once again. “Honestly, I don’t know how to dance this too, but let’s go with the flow?” She smiled, making him ease up. They dance, well actually, they move to the rhythm of the song, and they end up having fun.

“You know, you look really good tonight,” Lando muttered into her ear as they tried to the now crowded dance floor. 

Loretta was about to thank him when someone tapped her ass, making her spin around to see who did it, and to her surprise, it was James, her ex. “Wow, if it isn’t Loretta, always knew you were a whore, just look at how you dress.” He scoffed, making her roll her eyes in annoyance.

“Hey man, leave her alone.” Lando stepped in but was held back by Loretta. “Is this who you’re sleeping with now?” James eyed down Lando. 

Loretta scoffed, “So what if I am, why do you care? You cheated remember? You’re lost.” She said, a smirk growing when she saw the man become mad. “Whatever, let’s go Lando.” Loretta dragged Lando away before she felt someone snatch her hair, making her scream. 

“You bitch, what makes you think you can speak to me like that?” James had pulled her hair, making the girl visibly mad. Lando’s mouth dropped at the scene but before he could step in, Loretta defended herself. She threw a punch, making the man tumble a bit. “I can talk to you however the fuck I want, you ain’t no one but a bitch.” Loretta spat near him, making him more visibly upset. 

James grew red but before he could lay a hand towards Loretta, a couple of men held him back, probably the security. Loretta watched as he was dragged away, she groaned as she massaged the part where her hair was pulled. “Sorry about that.” She apologized to Lando, but he shrugged it off.

“Please you have nothing to apologize for, it was lowkey hot.” Lando blurted but mumbled the last bit. 

 “Sorry, I'm going to leave now.” Loretta blurted out, making her way towards the bar to pay. Lando stopped her, making her confused, “Don’t worry about it, I paid for it.” He told her, making her shocked. “Oh god, you didn’t have to!” Loretta pulled her phone out to pay him back before Lando laughed. 

“Honestly, It’s fine.” Lando smiled, before asking her something. “Can I walk you to your car?” Lando asked, making her red but thanks to the dim lights it wasn’t that noticeable. Never in her life had anyone offered, even when she was in a relationship, it was her first. 

“Uh, sure.” Loretta smiled, and they waved Heidi and Daniel goodbye as they walked out of the club. “Thanks to you and the others, I had fun tonight,” Loretta smiled as the air touched the layer of sweat on her skin. “Same, It was a nice difference to what I’m used to.” Lando smiled at her too, before walking her to her car. 

“Oh, you drive a truck.” Lando laughed as the girl laughed as well. “Yeah, it’s for work.” Loretta smiled at his amusement, before turning towards him. “Uh, then goodnight.” Loretta smiled at him, making him turn towards her. “Uh, I meant what I said, you looked really good tonight.” He told her, and it shifted the air. 

“If you don’t mind, do you want to go out another day? Uh as friends if you want! It's honestly fine, you seem like a nice–” Lando rambled but was interrupted by Loretta as she kissed him. 

Was it weird to kiss a stranger? Honesty Loretta felt new to this, it’s been a long time since she tried something. Then again, it felt nice interacting with men again, especially someone like Lando. She was about to pull away until Lando kissed her back, lips tasting like the bitter beer she chugged, but the strawberry lipgloss she applied every time she wandered off masked it right. 

Lando wasn’t going to fucking lie, he was attracted to the girl. Wanting nothing but to take her out, get to know her, and just be around her. How he loved how his night shifted. 

He gently pinned her to her truck door, letting his lips kiss her nicely, but her plum lips harshly wanted more. Loretta was deprived of some action and wanted more. She moaned lightly as Lando placed his hands on her hips, as she ran her fingers through his curls. 

Then the noise of a car unlocking scared them, making them jump off from each other.  “Uh, sorry.” Loretta fixed her hair, but she could feel her face become beat red. Lando nodded and cleared his throat, he felt like he was on fire. 

The pair looked at each other and smiled. “Do you, uh– do you want to go to my house? We can pick up from there if you want.” Loretta boldly asked, making the boy speechless and now very red, but he managed to give her a nod.

Loretta had no fucking clue what she was doing, she was shittin bricks when she pulled up to her front lawn, then saw his car pull up behind her. Lando felt her nervousness, and he wanted nothing but to reciprocate those feelings. But when they stood in front of each other, everything seemed to click. 

Loretta loved the texture of his curls when they were in her fingers. She didn’t let go of his lips for a second as he walked her through her front door, clinging lightly to her clothes. She broke their kiss when her back hit the stair railing, making her look at him.

She closed the front door before pulling the clueless boy upstairs. Lando chose this tiny adventure to study Loretta’s home, it was nice and homey. Then before he could look around more, Loretta pulled him into her bedroom, pulling him from his thought process by kissing his lips once again.

She had started to unbutton his black button-up as he too unzipped her jumpsuit, making them both look at their exposed skin, wanting nothing but to run their hands across it. Lando was the first to take off an article of clothes, ducking his head down to kiss her neck and collarbone. 

Loretta moaned as she felt his lips suck on her deprived skin, then the feeling of her hands running across his bare tan back. She plopped down onto the bed and she let him pull her arms out of the straps of the jumpsuit, exposing her tender breast. 

It’s been so long since she was able to expose herself to someone, so long since she tasted someone. She inhaled as she looked up towards Lando as he held himself back, making her pull his belt loops towards her. 

Allowing him to touch her, she gasped lightly as he touched her so softly and gently. She was so new to this, making her want to cling to him as much as possible.

꒰𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @landitolover, @d6za1, @ch3rryknots @louvrepool @thearchieves @moneygramhaas ꒱

[carionto]

Another "oopsie"

The *sigh*... Death Kebab, did a test fire today.

A single tungsten-alloy round, twenty centimeters in diameter, three meters long, just over two thousand kilos, and accelerated by a 610 kilometer long rail cannon, powered by hundreds of their ridiculous true fusion reactor mini stars.

It is, by a factor of stupid, the most powerful gun, if you can even call it that, ever built. Actually, the most powerful single anything ever built. So far.

Upon ejection, the rod was traveling at 0.842103C at what everyone thought was empty space for billions of light years. Except, the middle moon of this... thing... wasn't aligned perfectly, thus changing the inclination of the midsection by less than 0.002 degrees, which altered the exit trajectory by three one billionths of a degree.

In space, this Human attitude of "eh, close enough" they have for most of their things does not cut it when dealing with literal world ending devices. Which this miscalculation will in just over two hundred years.

Typical redirection and space hazard elimination methods simply can't handle this. It's projected that the projectile will potentially shoot through the planet or eject enough mass out the other side at still impressive velocities, triggering a sort of shotgun scatter effect in countless directions. Or just blow up the planet, we don't know. Simulations, no matter how advanced, can only tell us so much about something that has never happened before.

As members of the Coalition, Humanity has been officially tasked to prevent this senseless destruction under penalty of... we'll figure something out. Again, nobody ever thought someone could accidentally literally blow up a planet, we don't have protocols for this!

It doesn't help the Humans are not showing enough worry about this either. The first thing they did was hyper jump a junked freighter they loaded up with high density alloys and plating and explosives in front of the round. Fuck all that did except a giant explosion. Maybe slowed it down by a few hundred km/s, and potentially changed its course?

It is quite hard to track a thing going so fast when it's not within a star system. Nobody has managed to establish a monitoring network throughout all of empty space, some of our ancient civilizations tried - astronomical waste of time and resources, a logistical nightmare, bare cosmic radiation meant constant maintenance, zero use. Except now, for a thing Humans did.

Oh, their next plan is to shoot a smaller round AT the first one and obliterate them both. Sure? We guess it can't get wor-

They're gonna accidentally figure out a way to make this worse, aren't they?

[inoreuct]

How do unsupervised children react to Zoro's tiger form, and how does Zoro react in turn? 👀

weretiger zoro hcs part 3

lesgo.

i think sanji is very very aware of how dangerous zoro is and that just emphasises how careful zoro is with him,,, when they roughhouse with him in tiger form the most he does is roll around and bat at sanji with his paws and tail and at first sanji was like “do you think i’m that weak marimo tf??” until he saw tiger!zoro wreaking havoc and destruction across the battlefield and he was like oh. yeah ok that’s fine

the first time chopper meets zoro, the swordsman’s in his tiger form and chopper’s honestly terrified bcs predator?? huge predator?? zoro stalks towards him and he squeaks and tries not to move but then zoro just appraises him, gives him the Lick of Approval and ambles off to do who knows what. probably nap again.

and on that note, zoro’s tiger form is huge. absolutely fucking massive. he is longer than sanji is tall. he comes up to nearly above waist height. he could hide chopper inside of his closed mouth.

but somehow kids aren’t scared of him at all. it bewilders him to no end; sanji always gets a good laugh out of his expression when he stands there, slightly taken aback, tail flicking against the ground. zoro doesn’t know if it’s because they’re so young that they just don’t have a sense of self-preservation yet or something but in every damn town they go to, literally every town he steps into in his tiger form, there will be a child that gasps “kitty!!” all delighted and runs up to him completely unafraid. it’s… refreshing, if he’s being honest.

unlike their children, the parents have shown a variety of reactions, ranging from borderline hysterical fits of screaming and crying and trying to cart their child away (zoro just stood there raising an eyebrow in tiger form) to pulling out a loaded shotgun and holding it ready behind their back. and then the kid stops short in front of him, and zoro mentally sighs as he prepares for sticky little fingers in his scruff.

not that they don’t ask; even the most naive child would hesitate before touching a creature with fangs as long as their forearm. sanji always takes that chance to kneel down beside him with a hand on his back, voice kind as he explains to the kid that this is mr. tiger, no, he won’t eat you if you ask before touching him, will you, mr. tiger? and the damn kid turns to him with hopeful eyes.

he always acquiesces. always pretends to topple over and plays dead when they try and tackle him into the dirt. plays tag and chases the kid around in circles until they’re so tuckered out that they drape themselves right over zoro’s back, hugging his neck and giggling weakly. he goes back to the ship with his fur all ruffled and his ears combed within an inch of their lives and the memory of tiny hands waving, soft laughter as the kid calls “goodbye, mr. tiger!” from their doorstep and. it’s nice. to have someone other than his crew who isn’t scared of him.

of course, he has his bad nights. where he thinks about how if those parents knew the things he’d done they would never let their children within an island’s distance of him. sanji has an uncanny knack for telling when he’s gotten stuck in his head and on those nights the cook takes special care to tuck himself tight to zoro’s chest. it’s a blatant display of trust; showing his back, baring his throat to something with too-sharp claws and so many teeth is something zoro would never do. he worries sometimes that sanji is a fool for loving him. but when they’re wrapped in the quiet of one of their bunks, too many limbs in too little space, he can’t help but relax because sanji stays. sanji never takes anything lying down, gives back as good as he gets, calls zoro out on his bullshit when he’s being an ass and he stays. he is warm and soft and strong and beautiful and zoro trusts him implicitly, almost more than he trusts himself.

AND. sanji isn’t the only member of the Zoro Comfort Club. if the crew notices? good luck to him lmao he isn’t allowed to mope anymore. he’s been dragged yowling through the hallways more than once, gently but insistently corralled into the galley and made to lay down so that the rest of them can pile on top of him. it helps. his nakama are idiots, and he loves them.

zoro’s size does come in handy, though; one time when they’re in the middle of a fight, they get separated from luffy and the others and sanji’s hurt pretty badly. there are more enemies looking for them, and despite how much sanji complains about hygiene and stuff zoro actually really takes pride in keeping his coat clean. still, he rolls around in the dirt on the street and squashes the cook flat to the ground; he’s big enough to hide sanji completely and it just so happens that their enemies are looking for a blond and a green-haired swordsman, not a vaguely bedraggled-looking muddy dusty cat thing. they get away undetected and sanji uses up all the hot water getting them both squeaky clean.

his tail is his tell (guess you could call it… a tell-tail sign… i’m sorry i’ll stop). it’s big and fluffy like a feather boa and it has an annoying habit of wrapping around things he likes when he’s not paying attention; he sunbathes by luffy’s side on the deck and it snakes around his captain’s ankle. nami sits on the floor with her maps while zoro’s on the bed and it settles across her shoulders. sanji curls up next to him and it twines around his waist, and he doesn’t notice until he sees his crew smiling at him. most of the times he immediately pulls it away with an embarrassed chuff, but if whoever he’s with is having a tough day he’ll just… leave it. according to the kids, it’s mighty nice to hug.

that’s all,,, for now >:3 shoutout to @redgitanako for enabling my deranged ramblings over dms, you’re golden 😽🫶🏼

part 1 | part 2

[girls-alias]

Smile - Dean Winchester

Title: Smile - Dean Winchester

Words: 2,622

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: strong language. Violence.

Prompt:

When Dean sees you he can't help but smile.

Y/N's POV:

I wiped the blood from my hands on the dirty cloth that lives in my car door. The cloth always had dried blood and car oil poisoning its originally white appearance. I proceeded to wipe my knife down, clearing it of evidence. Car lights approached my location and I sprung into gear. If other vampires see what I did here they'll never stop hunting me. Since I was standing at the trunk of my car I easily grabbed my pistol and crouched. If it is vampires at least the pistol will slow them down enough till I can get my knife out again as I slipped it into my belt out of reflex. A Chevy Impala pulled up, the hum of the engine sounding harsh against the quiet night, though impressed I approached stealthily. I hurried to the boot of their car as it stopped and waited. I heard two car doors open and then close. 

"That's ridiculous it would never work," One man said approaching the trunk. I looked around frantically looking for a way out. I considered hiding under their car but that's the dumbest idea I've ever considered. I quickly hid in the bushes nearest the trunk.

"Oh, coz your plan was so brilliant." The other sarcastically commented. They made it to the trunk and propped the false bottom open with a shotgun. Seeing their boot was full of weapons and symbols I knew they were either hunters themselves or were vampires who had stolen a car from a hunter.

I stepped out of the bushes quietly and loaded my pistol. They both froze at the sound, their spines instantly straightening. 

"Put your hands up and turn around slowly," I instructed in a bossy tone. They slowly put their hands up and exchanged a look as they turned around. The shorter one made a stance which told me he was about to try and grab a weapon. I shot the shotgun base which held the boot's false bottom open which revealed their weapons. The boot slammed with the force, almost snapping off his hands. He breathed heavily. "Where in my instructions did I tell you to try and kill me?" I asked and looked at them expectedly. They said nothing as they looked at me.  "Hunters or Vampires?" I asked. The shorter guy groaned and slapped the sides of his legs as he exaggerated his groan, theatrically putting his hands down. 

"Of course, you're a hunter." The shorter guy complained. "Why is it that when an attractive woman holding a gun shows up she's a hunter?!" He huffed and puffed like a child. I sighed as I rolled my eyes before shooting the floor close to his feet. He jumped and looked at me like I had just killed a puppy. 

"You do realise I'm still holding a gun?" I asked rhetorically. He said nothing. 

"Excuse me," The tall guy said softly. I turned to aim my pistol at him and he smiled uneasily. "Hi, we're Sam and Dean Winchester, are you a hunter?" He asked sheepishly making me groan. Of course, they're the Winchesters, nothing but trouble.  

"Yes, and since you're the Winchesters enjoy your night," I saluted with two fingers, put my pistol in its holster and started walking towards my car. 

"You're bleeding!" The tallest, Sam, announced like I hadn't noticed. The blood was trickling down my bare leg soaking my shorts as the stream of blood ran down. While fighting, a vampire threw me across the room and a sharp chair leg impaled my side. It made the vampires more hungry for me but I was determined not to die today. "You've lost a lot of blood, you shouldn't be driving," 

"Yes, mother," I sarcastically commented as I opened the driver's side door. I heard the brothers approaching, and I internally groaned. 

"Come with us, we'll fix you up and send you on your way," Dean explained. I looked at him and rolled my eyes before swooping down into my seat and closing the door. I rolled the window down. 

"Nice to meet you, it really was." I commented sarcastically, "Move or I'll run you over," I smiled widely, fakely. They both shared a look before stepping back. I instantly drove off. Now let's see if I can race death. I kicked the car into high gear and sped off. 

Dean's POV:

I watched after her car slightly mesmerised by her. She's a firecracker. 

"Don't even try," Sam sighed as he started walking towards the house where the vampire nest was. 

"I wasn't going to," A complete lie.

"She would eat you alive," He commented making me roll my eyes. He's so dramatic.

"What was her name?" I asked following after him. 

"She didn't say," He nonchalantly added as we walked inside to see bodies all over the place, blood and heads everywhere. My eyebrows raised in an impressed expression. "She did this all by herself?" Sammy asked in disbelief. We shared an impressed yet intimidating look. 

--

We pulled into a random bar off of the highway in means of taking a break. I needed to swindle some guys into betting on a pool game for some extra money. As soon as we walked in I felt awkward, everyone in there was huge, intimidating and killed kittens. Sam and I shared a look. We probably should have just turned around and walked out but I led the way over to the bar, acting headstrong as everyone's eyes followed us. We ordered a beer each and sat watching each other's backs. It would be a clear observation to assume they were all in a biker gang. 

Everyone watched us as we waited for our drinks. The bartender didn't move to make them, he just looked at us unimpressed. The only reason everyone stopped staring at us was that the door opened signalling someone was walking in. Everyone's heads swung towards the door where we all saw an attractive girl walk in, I smiled instantly, it was the attractive hunter from a few weeks ago. She killed the entire vampire nest by herself. I couldn't help but smile thankfully. I was happy to see her again since we kind of met I've been so perplexed by her. I want to know everything about her but she is a complete mystery to me. 

She didn't care that everyone was watching her, she didn't even care that she was the only female in here. She ordered a shot of something and a whiskey. The bartender looked around the other bikers and must have been permitted to make her drinks as he started moving around the bar. I shared a confused look with Sam as the bartender still hadn't made our drinks. He placed her drinks in front of her as she sat looking ahead at one spot. She downed the shot with no hesitation and sat sipping her whiskey. I decided not to stare at her, I had a horrible feeling that she would know somehow, even if she didn't know I was there so looked at Sam. "Isn't that the girl from the nest?" He whispered making me nod. I couldn't tell what he was thinking but he appeared to be thinking about something. I looked back over to her when I noticed someone approaching her. I watched in anticipation as I was unsure if I needed to protect her and the guy approaching her. 

"All these seats are reserved for men, if you want to sit in here you'll have to find a lap." He informed, making some of his fellow bar attendees laugh proudly. Out of nowhere she pulled a knife out and stabbed it through his hand, bone and all, which rested upon the bar top. The wooden bar top split where the knife had gone through his hand and bone to impale the top itself. Everyone stood up quickly baring weapons as the guy screamed in pain. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the handle of her blade, her eyes were determined and cold. She began to speak softly, she held the room as if it was simple to her. Everyone seemed to watch in anticipation. 

"Not only are you sexist but you're a fucking pig. Oink for me, piggy," She instructed her tone nothing less of evil. He was too distracted by the pain, he screamed and held his wrist with his other hand, he must have tried freeing it from the blade as it bled a little faster and a little darker. After a few seconds, she started to slowly twist the blade. He screamed in agony before oinking, clearly panicked. No one knew what to do, nothing made a noise except the screaming man. Even the music seemed to be too scared to make a noise. "Tell your friends to put their weapons down," She tilted her head as she looked at him and pursed her lips. She is mesmerising. Although I have no idea why she's hurting him for a sexist comment I could watch her all day. I finally wished I paid attention in school as I wished to memorise every aspect of her I could see. The man nodded hurryingly, everyone seemed to exchange looks before sitting back down. "Good boys. Now, I'm looking for Robert. Hand him over," She looked around and saw no one moving. "No?" She questioned. In an instant, the man she had stabbed was being pushed down so his face was squished against the bar. Her blade softly graced the skin of his face. It happened so fast the guy didn't even have time to scream in pain as she did it. 

She looked evil. I smiled wanting nothing more than to see what she was capable of. "We're going to play a game. For every minute you leave me waiting, a body part is removed..." No one spoke, they all just looked around trying to catch eye contact with someone to figure out what to do. The man screaming showed she wasn't bluffing. She smirked evilly. "Maybe I'll start with the ear and then the penis," Her evil smile seemed to match her features better than an innocent smile, ever could. I presume her lips have never bared an innocent smile. "Does anyone have a magnifying glass?" She asked making me almost laugh. The moment was so serious. If I made a noise I don't think I'd live long enough to finish the laugh. All of a sudden a man stood up. "Ah, Robert. That wasn't so hard was it?" She asked menacingly. She pulled a handgun from her waistband and shot him in the face, I gasped, I felt like I was watching theatre. No one wanted to move. There was a second of silence which seemed to last an eternity. "Have a nice night," She added before saluting with two fingers, downing her whiskey and walking out. That, that right there is a woman! No one dared to look at her as she left. I barely even thought before I got up and followed her. Everyone seemed to gasp and watch with wide eyes, even an entire biker gang was scared of her. I'm an idiot but I knew I had to know more about her.

"Hey," I called after her as she approached her car. She turned around, her gun already pointed at my forehead. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she put the gun down. I smiled knowing she wasn't considering killing me. "You want a drink?" I asked approaching her. She raised an eyebrow at me and chuckled. Seeing her almost smile made me a little proud and determined as I wanted to make her smile just to see what she would look like. 

"No, thanks," She sarcastically spoke as she walked away to her car. I chuckled in response. 

"You'll regret it," I added cockily, she raised an eyebrow at me. She's smarter than me. 

"Sure," She sarcastically added again. She opened her car door and was about to step inside but she hesitated. Over time meeting her till now I thought she was the most confident and determined person I had ever met, but watching her hesitate threw me. Maybe she's not as strong-willed as I thought. She just always seemed to know what she wanted and took it. "Next time we meet by coincidence if I'm not on a job I'll let you take me out for that drink," She added with a slight smile but my mouth was from ear to ear. She smiled at me! She smiled at me. I thought her evil smile suited her but seeing her truly smile made her angelic. 

"See you soon then," I cockily added as she chuckled and shook her head. 

"See you around soldier," She saluted and got in her car before driving off.  I can't wait to get that drink. 

--

Y/N's POV: 

I pulled up to my motel covered in blood. None of which was mine. I pulled a jacket on to cover the stains and threw my bag onto my shoulder as I approached my door. I was unlocking it when I heard the car, I smirked to myself, I knew instantly. Even though it had been a few weeks I still recognised the sound of the engine and its owner. I made it look like I was still unlocking my door even though I had done it a few seconds ago. 

"Hey, hot stuff," I heard Dean calling, instantly, I smiled. I pulled a straight face and turned around to face him. He was out of his car and approaching me. I rolled my eyes at him pretending I wasn't glad to see him. God, he's so hot!  He's the goofy kind of attractive like he could have me laughing and having a great day and then boom, he's serious and has me in the palm of his hand. I sucked my teeth attempting to hide my thoughts of sleeping with him as they, for the one-millionth time, fogged my brain.

"You again, are you following me, Dean?" I asked looking at him questioningly. He was smiling so brightly, it was almost accumulated of the circumference of his face. I almost smiled just seeing it. 

"I should have but I let fate do it for me," He joked making me laugh as he finally reached me. He smiled proudly as if making me laugh was his greatest achievement. Adorable! "Ready for that drink?" He smirked.

"Why do you always smile so big?" I asked genuinely. Ignoring his question. I'm not a very happy person, happiness has always been a perplexing subject to me and yet seeing him makes me happy and I don't understand it. I'm not a fan of not understanding something. 

"What can I say? I can't help but smile when I look at you," He commented, his smile slightly turning to a smirk. I looked over his face before accepting his answer. I nodded as I pretended to consider his offer of going for that drink. I would be in the bar with him already if I had my way.

"Okay, there's a bar about a block away but I have to get changed," I commented, opening the door to my motel room. 

"You look amazing, no need to get changed." He commented with a wink. I almost swooned, falling to the floor at the weak knees he gave me but I stayed strong. I raised an eyebrow at him and opened my jacket to show him all the blood. His face dropped and an 'oh' escaped his lips making me laugh as I turned away. 

I hope I don't regret this!

[heartthrobin]

lovers, to bed: tis almost fairy time (4)

sam winchester x fairy!reader

wc: 4.0k

warnings: soulmate!au (partners share scars), fem!reader, limited use of y/n, implied age gap (reader is early 20's), angst, subby sam winchester (?), some smoking, canon warnings (child kidnapping, violence ect.)

an: i'm so sorry that this took so long, uni has put me in a really tough mental space at the moment and being creative has been so difficult. but i hope it was worth the wait! love you all endlessly

summary: yes, Sam Winchester was an idiot: but he would be damned if he was going to let his little fairy get away.

part one part two part three

The trunk clicked open, swinging up against the back window of the Impala.

Dean rummaged between the shotguns and the silver blades and the jugs of gasoline. His hand emerged with a wide set machete, holding it up to Sam.

"I've been dying to use this bad boy since Idaho." He grinned at his reflection in the steel blade.

Sam rolled his eyes, hair fluttering over his forehead where the evening wind was tugging on it. The Impala was parked up against the grass at the edge of the forest, the sun disappearing over the treetops in a way that sunk the town in a purple glow.

He reached in to grab a shotgun, a silver blade too: slipping it into his jacket pocket. "Right. Let's just get this over with."

His brother grinned, "So you can go see your little princess, hm?"

Sam didn't dignify him with a response. Mostly because he was right.

The weight of the truth draped over his shoulders like a truck. Stifling and making it hard to breath, let alone think.

Dean laughed at his lack of response, bumping his shoulder to his:

"Sammy's getting laid tonight." He sing-songed.

"Yeah, right. That's a great idea." He huffed, "Then she can see all my scars and realise I've been lying to her. Sounds fun."

Nudging the trunk closed, Dean groaned. "She's gonna find out either way."

"Not unless I don't tell her."

At that Dean paused. His eyes ran over Sam's figure where he was loading the shotgun.

"So when were done, we're just gonna leave town?"

Sam slammed the trunk shut with maybe a little too much force. "Can we drop it?"

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever. It's your problem, but I think she should know."

But Sam was already pacing towards the line of trees, huffing and trying to suffocate the guilt building in his chest.

The forest wasn't making it any easier. Dean was trailing behind him, every footstep crackling over the dry leaves and soft grass reminding him of your laugh. The dark bark of the black of your eyes, those eyes so wide and wet--

"Hey," Dean's voice cut through his thoughts. He motioned over between the trees. "Look."

There was the tree again. Glowing just like it had been the last time they'd ventured into the belly of the woods.

A crunch echoed around the space. Sam's head whipped over his shoulder, Dean reaching with a quickness that only came from experience for the gun in his holster:

"What was that?"

-

There was a teenager behind the counter when you plonked down a packet of sour worms and a tray of eggs in front of her.

She was usually the one who helped you when you'd stop in after work some days. She's cute in a sprightly way: piercings sticking out from every piece of skin she could get her hands on and she was one of the only people left in town who didn't scowl at you when you came in.

But she was looking at you funny just then, her hands still where they'd usually just reach to start scanning your things with a bored look on her young features.

"You've ... uh, got a ..." she'd motioned up to her own face, brushing a finger over her cheek.

Your hand came to pet your own face, drawing back with a palmful of blood. Shoulders sagging, you sigh. "Oh."

She leaned down under the counter, emerging with a handful of napkins and offering them to you. You smiled at her, "Thank you. It's, uhm, it's not mine."

The girl nodded like she already figured. She started to scan your eggs while you wiped down your cheek, napkins dissolving into a crimson lump. You wondered, for the millionth time, what your soulmate had gotten themselves into today.

There was a glass case enclosing some rotating hot dogs that you used to check your reflection: to probe gently at the thin cut you suspected was the work of a sharp blade, and when she handed you your bag, your face was mostly clean over where it was flush with embarrassment. Poor girl was already working late on a week night and you'd waltzed in looking like a scene from a horror movie.

You thanked her and she offered one last uninterested nod.

It was dark out already and you didn't feel as safe walking home as you once had but there was little option, and the corner store was less than a couple blocks from home.

The bag shuffled and your neck-full of crystals clinked as you walked. You hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all afternoon, some playful tune you'd heard on the radio in the shop.

In the distance there was a crowd. The road overthrown with a flickering blue and red light from cop cars parked just further down and voices overlapped in loud chatter.

You frowned. "What ..."

As you neared your eyes find uniformed officers pushing back other curious onlookers. There was a news van parked there too: a man dressed in a smart suit speaking into a microphone at his chest and he's grinning-- "Yes, Arthur, I am here in Fernglade Washington with some amazing news for our viewers. Tonight, the town can rest a little easier--"

There was a loud sob that carries over heads and a woman was on her knees, jeans pressing into the concrete where she was clutching a child. She's shaking violently ... and she wasn't alone.

Behind her was another set of parents with a child ... and another, and another.

Your heart floated into your throat. There brewed a bubbling feeling in your chest, it's ... it's the children. The missing children.

You recognised Rachel and Georgia ... and Manny. Sure, they were a little dirty: with pale soil-ridden faces and torn Barbie t-shirts.

One, two, three -- you counted them with your eyes -- seven. They were all there.

The police had set up a barricade and you didn't even realise you'd dropped and crushed your eggs when you pressed against it. There's eyes on you, guilty eyes, and you could tell nearby officers were pretending not to look at you out the corner of their eyes.

But you couldn't be bothered with them, with the whispering crowd either, because you'd made out the outline of the Winchester brothers' backs talking down at a short police woman who was avidly writing against a tiny notebook.

You were grinning so hard it was hurting your cheeks and your eyes welled with the joy of the scene. They were all there. They were all okay, alive!

"Sam!' you leaned over the wooden barricade. It had to have been them, there was nobody else who believed you. Believed that the kids weren't locked up in the depths of a dungeon you didn't own.

A laugh was gurgling up from the depths of your throat and you felt where a tear slipped over the healing cut on your cheek. "Sam!"

Sam's head perked up, pausing mid-sentence when he turned those wide shoulders to the crowd, to you. His face lit up with shadows under the spectacle of coloured lights when his eyes found yours.

Your heart sunk from where it was sitting in your throat, slipping all the way to the deepest pit in your stomach.

Even under the harsh light and the cover of night it was impossible to miss the drying blood painting his face. Running down from a cut over his cheek. Your hand came to find your own jaw, eyes never leaving his, when you pressed up into the matching scar. It didn't hurt and even if it had, you wouldn't have felt it just then.

Sam's face was twisting with realisation. "Y/n--"

You tripped back over the edges of your skirt, knocking into the onlookers behind you-- "hey, watch it!"

Concrete reached up, scraping at your heels wedged into dainty sandals, but the hammering of your heart kept them moving. You broke out the crowd, oxygen leaning further and further out your grasp when you broke into a run.

"Y/n, wait!"

But you didn't stop.

Sam watched your silhouette shrink down the road, streetlights illuminating your escape. He gulped for breath, guilt choking him out: clogging his airways with thick sludgy shame.

"Sammy," a hand closed over his arm. "Come on--"

"Agent, we need to finish getting your statement."

Dean was leaning over his shoulder when he looked down. His eyes were sticky with sympathy.

The officer was lingering just a foot from him. She looked confused, gaze flickering between him and the now empty street.

"Dean ..." he turned to his only comfort. "She-- my face ..."

His brother nodded. "Yeah, I know. I know, Sammy."

He patted him. "Just give her some time to breath, okay? Let's finish here."

Every nerve-ending in his body was screaming at him to chase you down the street. To break through the nosy locals and crawl his way up your porch steps: beg on his knees for forgiveness.

Just give her some time. He didn't know if his mind was ringing or if Dean had said it again, but Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

The officer pressed her pen back to her little notebook. She nodded, "Okay so you guys followed the perpetrator into the forest. Male, blonde hair, you said?"

Dean made a grunt of agreement.

-

The night was so cold, Sam remembered.

A thin sheet of drizzle was patching up the sidewalk when his heavy footsteps crept up along it. Barely enough to dampen his hair, but his jacket felt impossibly heavy over his shoulders.

It was past midnight. The police had held them down: a trip to the station, a tower of signed documents and a sketch artist later there he finally was, standing feeling small for the first time in his life at the edge of your property.

Wind was twirling a thin line of smoke off your porch. He could see you through the darkness.

You said nothing. Eyes connected with his across your impeccably maintained grass.

It egged him forward.

His footsteps were loud clambering up the three wooden steps onto your porch.

You were leaned back into the arms of an ornate wooden rocking chair he'd noticed on his first trip up those same stairs. You weren't looking at him anymore: eyes drifting over the quiet street.

Sam was at least glad to find you bundled up in a blanket.

In your lap sat was the strangest-looking pipe he'd ever seen. An obnoxiously long chamber with a bulbous bowl at the end.

A string of purple smoke was curling out from between your lips. "You're here."

He couldn't tell if it was a question or not. Your face was as passionless as he'd ever seen it: offering him nothing.

"I promised I would be."

You nodded slowly, bringing the pipe up to your mouth and sucking on it steadily, still not looking at him. "How are the kids?"

Sam's hands bunched at his side. A dreadful burning viper was slithering between his organs. In this light he could see the smooth cut against your face, a misaimed throw of a blade from Dean when a tiny grotesque goblin had leapt up at him.

"They're ... they're fine. T-They're good."

"Did you know?"

You're looking at him now. It's the question he knew was coming but it knocks him breathless all the same.

He draws breath, mind spinning between the truth and an easier lie. "I--"

"Don't lie, Sam."

Your eyes are piercing him, like an arrow to the chest. He swallows hard. "Yes ... I did."

The pipe draws up to your mouth again, you let out a soft humourless laugh. It's followed out by another cloud of glittering smoke. The laugh so empty that it dries Sam's mouth.

"I ... the life I lead," he starts again, the snippets of a speech that he'd been stewing on his whole life for this exact moment coming out sounding more pathetic than he ever thought they could. "It's no life for you. For anyone, and I couldn't do that to someone I... I-I love. To tie you to me, I've done terrible things you don't know--"

"And you think I haven't?" You're rising from the chair now, pipe thudding to the floor. Your voice is prickled in a rising anger. "That I'm some jewel who could never imagine what life is like on the run? To kill and hurt for survival?"

The rain was coming down harder. Trees and bushes leaning against the push of the wind. Sam was so lost in the heat of your eyes that he didn't notice the creep of a thick-set branch crawling up the edge of the porch, down over the lip of the roof.

"Were you just gonna leave?" Your voice never rose but he flinched like you'd screamed it at him. The flush of fury setting your cheeks alight, illuminating the scar that put you both there. "You were, weren't you?"

The touch was wet and solid when it wrapped around his ankle, the branch wrenching him by both ankles back against the bannister of the porch. He gasped when the wood struck his back: another thick brown limb winding around his neck, not enough to hurt but enough to fix his head in your direction and stop him from toppling over.

It took a couple gulps of breath to realise that it was the tree. The one wrapped around your cottage, that it was you.

"This is a two way street, Sam." you pressed up against his chest, eyes alight with a power you'd never let show before. "You bang me up for years and years, and I sit and wait for you. And you were just gonna leave? Leave me to patch up all your bullet holes and your wolf bites?"

Shame drains his cheeks of warmth. He doesn't fight the tree's grip, purposefully ignores the sharpened blade that's still well within his reach. Sam shakes his head as well as he can: he doesn't know what to say. His whole pathetic speech meant nothing anymore and he didn't think this could hurt any harder until he realises that tears are streaming quietly down your perfect perfect face.

You're pressed up against him, your warmth seeping into his bones.

Forehead meeting his pectoral, you shake your head too. Tears wetting his shirt.

"I was scared." He finally lets out, it's pitiful. "I didn't know this is what it felt like. I didn't know love could feel like this."

"I'm scared too, you know." You whisper into him.

In a surge of bravery, or maybe just stupidity - he couldn't tell anymore, his hand finds your jaw: tipping it up to face him.

God, he never thought you could be more beautiful but you were blinking up at him with wet lashes and a trembling lip and he was ready to give up his whole fucking life for you. Lay down the gun and never pick it up again, let Dean drive alone out and far away from Fernglade.

It was all made more real when you leaned up onto your toes, nose brushing his and hands finding his neck.

You moved no closer, warm breath caressing the bow of his lip, but Sam would be damned if being hog-tied by some oak tree was gonna stop him from the taste of you so he wrapped a strong arm over your waist and tugged you just that little distance further.

The feeling of your lips crashing on his couldn't be any sweeter. He imagined that this is what a firework felt like when it leapt into the sky and burst.

Your mouth was desperate, like his, and your hands wrapped around the base of his shivering neck.

You tasted like sweet tea and tangy like whatever was in your magical pipe and if the tree wasn't holding him upright he'd have crashed to his knees. You whined lowly and it stoked the fire pit in Sam's stomach.

His tongue slipped past your lips, struggling against the hold of the oak tree to let his hands roam your back. Your mouth was wet hot and he knew he could kiss you forever, until his oxygen depleted and he was dead for the world.

But you stepped back, eyes wide like you'd been doused over with ice water. A hand wiped at your mouth, at the mix of his and your's saliva coating your lips.

"You ..." your voice trembled. "You should go."

You stumbled back down the porch, door creaking as it opened and banging as it shut.

The grip of the tree loosened and Sam watched it's branches creep back under the porch. It became still again, rain calming to a measly patter and bushes watching quietly.

"Fuck." he whispered.

-

Sam shut the car door obnoxiously loud after him. The leather of the Impala creaked loudly when Dean followed in suit, hands reaching up to the slick black wheel.

"You're sure?"

Without answering, Sam shifted to take one last look at the Pinecone Motel and it's chipping copper paint.

"Fine." Dean turned the key into the ignition, car rumbling to life beneath them.

In the backseat is his and Sam's rucksacks and duffle-bags jam-packed with their few worldly possesions. The same bags haphazardly zipped shut that same morning when Sam eventually busted through the door demanding that they left Fernglade right fucking now.

The sun was just barely creeping over the town and morning chill frosted the view through the windscreen. It's busy despite the time: open signs are flickering on and men in aprons are heaving crates of apples onto stands under fairylight-lit doorways.

Bad Moon Rising hummed through the crumbly speakers and Sam slammed the switch on the dash so it shut off.

"Hey!" Dean calls, "take it easy man. She's gentle."

He pat the dash softly where Sam has just knocked it. Still, his brother says nothing.

"Okay." He huffed, pulling the car into a spot near the sidewalk in front of a lifeless diner. Dean twists in his seat to face Sam: "you've barely said a word all morning."

Sam tugged his jacket closer over his frame. "I said I don't wanna talk about it."

"Yeah, yeah. You've been saying that all damn week." Dean's arm lifted to rest against the back of the seat. "But you're gonna talk now. This isn't some passing girl that you can just pack your bags and run away from. You're gonna have to go there and apologise."

Sam's expression curls in anger. "Yeah, Dean, I did that! And she tied me up with tree branches and kicked me off her porch--"

"Well, boo hoo!" Dean tightened his one-handed grip on the steering wheel. "Do it again! Do it until she forgives you."

"I don't need your advice, Dean. I've made up my mind, we're leaving."

A cat was scratching on a growing weed at the edge of the sidewalk, Sam focused on it to avoid his brother's eyes. They were hot and he could feel them burning a hole into the side of his face.

"Can we just go."

"What is it?" Dean spoke again, this time quieter. Cool fog followed the words out his mouth. "What are you scared of?"

Sam ran both hands through the tendrils of hair over his scalp. He sighed. "I'm ... she's not gonna be able to forgive me."

"Are you gonna be able to forgive yourself?"

There was a long quiet.

It was broken by a car passing noisily. It draws Dean's attention and he nodded quietly to himself. "Fine. Wisconsin?"

"Yeah." Sam agrees quietly.

The car started again, Dean went to turn to radio back up. "Will you grab my jacket, I left it in the trunk. It's fucking freezing in here."

Sam sighed again. "Fine."

"Thanks."

The door clicked open again. He's barely both feet out the car when it grumbles and swerves off the sidewalk, Sam tripped over the edge nearly onto the concrete, and by the time he's stabled himself: the Impala was racing down the main road.

"You'll thank me for this!" His brother's voice faded with the car's black silhouette.

Sam's hands returned to his hair again, "son of a bitch!"

An old lady across the street turned to him with an affronted look. He waves her off, kicking at the same weed the cat had abandoned in the flurry of commotion.

Above him, the diner sign flickers on: The Frothy Mug. He stopped.

It felt like years between when he was last standing under the same light of the sign. In front of the same three steps that he watched your eyes sparkle at him: your hand tucked warmly against his.

"Fucking ..." the expletives died on his tongue. He's right, that asshole.

"I'm a fucking idiot."

Sam's legs began moving before he even knew they were, chasing down the same route he'd meandered along with you three nights previous. He's sprinting, breathing a purposeless afterthought as the diner disappeared behind him.

Past the pharmacy, the laundromat, The Bloom Box. All the way to the end of town where your cottage and your trees and your flowers and you waited for him.

Sam panted clouded breaths as the sight came into view at the end of the road. The morning sunlight lit your garden a bright orangey eden. His steps were just as heavy as they were in the early hours of that same morning when he trudged up the same stone pathway.

He didn't let himself hesitate, bringing red, bruised knuckles up against the hardwood door. The knock rumbled through the house and shakes every bone in his body.

There was a long pause. Then a scuffle, a sniff and a "Goose, get back".

The door creaked and you stood in the doorway like you had the first day his feet found this porch.

While expected, Sam was taken aback by the sight of you. You're in a matching set of pajamas, green - unsurprisingly - and covered in little ladybugs. Your face was swollen with sleep, eyelashes kissing in the corner and lips puffy.

"Sam--" you sighed, but Sam's hands find your shoulders gently.

"I know it's early, but please listen. I'm an idiot." He sounded desperate, but couldn't find a way to help it.

"Yes." You nodded.

"And I'm sorry." He nodded along with you. "And it took Dean kicking me out the car to get me here because - like I said - huge idiot, but I'm sorry. I'm a sorry, sorry idiot who's so in love with you that he doesn't know what to do with himself."

Your eyebrow curls, "Dean kicked you out the car?"

Sam's eyes rolled. "Yes. I was going to leave, because I'm a coward too. A cowardly idiot who doesn't deserve forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyways."

You shrugged, head dipping to almost rest against your shoulder. Your face almost, almost laced in amusement. "Begging always looks a little more convincing on your knees, Sam."

His knees knock loudly when they hit the wooden porch. Sam's hands slide down to find yours.

"I'm sorry." He said again, the only words his brain could formulate under the shine of you in your morning glory - the sight of a woman he wanted to see every morning until forever. "Please let me make it up to you?"

Your hands released his slowly, rising to run through his chestnut hair and settling at the base of his neck. You smile.

He thought he might be dreaming but you lean down and kiss him gently. A tinkle of bells rang through the air and Sam smiled against your mouth.

You brushed your nose against his: "I forgive you, Sam."

Sam's hands grip against your hips before floating back and brushing against the edge of the silken wings at your back.

"Really?"

"Yes. Now come in here and show me how sorry you are."

-

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[bullet-prooflove]

The choice is so plentiful, it's always hard to pick, but I think I found a good prompt for Sonny Quinn from your Thursday 'Bring the Noise' Prompt List: 24. "She's mean and she's mine" 🤭 Also the song I think fits him is "Angel loves the devil out of me" by Jace Everett. I'm curious if you agree!

Also: Thanks for sharing your writing! 🩷 I really appreciate it!

I love that song for him! I've added it to my Sonny playlist!

The first argument you and Sonny have is about the shotgun you keep loaded under the bar. He finds it when he’s trying to fix one of the taps because it’s gone a little hinky.

It’s a Winchester, one of the older models. The serial number scratched off.

There is no way this thing is legal and that presents a problem for Sonny, a big one. If it comes out that he’s around an illegal weapon then he faces a court martial and the possibility of being kicked off Bravo. You, though, you face jail time.

“You have to get rid of it.” He tells you when you come back up from the basement after taking inventory.

“No fucking way.” You tell him, gesturing towards the gun. “Sometimes that’s the only thing between me and a bad Thursday night.”

It takes him a minute to realise what that means. He forgets that when he’s away there’s nights that you’re here alone. You have a couple of veterans that you hire for the busier periods but sometimes it’s just you and you’re a dainty fucking thing.

“We need to get rid of this…” He begins again but you cut him off.

“And I said no.” You snap at him. “You don’t get to come in here and tell me…”

He sighs because he knows what you’re like when you’re in this mood. Your tired because it’s been a rough couple of days, pissed off because he’s deploying in twelve hours and it’s fucked up a trip the two of you have had planned. He decides to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. He picks up the shotgun and walks out to the sound of you cursing up a storm behind him.

You don’t speak to him after that and he doesn’t blame you. It usually takes you a good few days to calm down when he fucks up. He tends to give you a little space but he doesn’t have the luxury of that kind of time because he’s shipping out so he breaks the stalemate between you with a text from the plane.

“Don’t be mad baby.” It reads. “I’ve left you something under the bar.”

He’s almost three thousand miles away by the time you pick up that text. He sees the three little dots before the picture comes in. It’s a brand new Winchester with a red gift bow resting on the barrel. The paperwork is tucked in an envelope underneath it. You’re fully legal now, if you have to protect yourself you won’t face any recriminations for having an illegal fire arm on the premises. On top of that he’s also recommended the place to a few buddies of his, they’ve promised to make it their new watering hole while he’s away.

“I’d never leave my girl without a way of protecting herself.” He responds from his hammock. They’re all bedding down for the night so that they’ll be fresh and operational by the time the plane lands.

You send him another picture, this time something a little more risqué and he clears his throat so stifle the moan that threatens to leave his throat.

“You enjoy torturing me don’t you sweet thang? Knowing I’m on a plane full of other guys, that I can’t touch myself when you’re sending me shit like this.”

You send another picture and his jaw clenches as his hard cock rubs across the zipper of his cargo pants.

This, he thinks as he studies the image of you in nothing but a pair of black panties with the Winchester in your hands. This is the sweetest revenge.

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[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately (m) #7 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #7 - People (Pt. 2)​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: a camping trip in the middle of January does not prove to be ideal at all. for many reasons. and you'll blame taehyung for suggesting this! with high tensions and emotions simmering beneath the surface as you, the beta tau sigma boys, and your girly besties go on a weekend getaway, someone unexpected decides to confess to you, leaving you to wonder what your heart even wants? warnings:  camping, reader being obviously jealous, AND STRESSED, smut, deep talks, shower sex, consensual groping, v in p penetration, unprotected sex (well she's on BC), swearing, kissing...A LOT, fingering, yoongi smoking cigarettes, hwasa the drama pot stirrer, ANGST, INJURY, eventual CONFESSION, yoonminjoon on high tension, jungkook carrying reader = jealousy, ft. Hwasa, IU, Adora, and Soyoon note: as always thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and giving me smut ideas!!! total word count: 12.6k drop date: February 9th, 2024 3:00PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #6 | Series Masterlist | #8 →

January 19 [Saturday]

The rhythmic hum of the engine and the soft purr of the tires on the pavement accompany your focus as you sit shotgun in Yoongi's car, en route to the campgrounds. Winter break ended earlier that month, and reality is setting in as you find yourself juggling the remnants of relaxation with the impending demands of university life.

Yoongi decided to bring his car to campus this semester, knowing that he would need it for the camping trip to be able to fit everyone. Each car housed a portion of your close-knit group:

Jin's car: Hoseok, Hwasa, Soohyun Jimin's car: Namjoon, Soyoon, Jungkook Yoongi's car: You, Taehyung, Jieun

Seated beside Yoongi, you diligently work on a writing assignment, your laptop open on your lap. Yoongi cast a sidelong glance, noting your dedication despite his concern for your motion sickness.

"Are you seriously working on your homework in the car? You get bad motion sickness, Honey." He sighs, worry lacing his words as he continues looking at the road.

You finally lift your gaze, meeting his eyes after a focused 25 minutes. "I took a dramamine before this, so it’s not too bad. I just need to get this assignment done before Tuesday. I know I’m going to fuck around and not work on it much this whole trip, so I’m doing all I can to get it done within the next 3 hours."

Yoongi hums, understanding the struggle. "Damn, that business comm class has you hustling hard this semester, huh?"

You groan in agreement, "Yes! I was so close to dropping it because the professor is so stingy, but I need to take it now so I can graduate on time." This spring semester is going to be a lot harder so you have to stay focused. Though, this camping trip offers a temporary escape with your friends before you start calling the library your new home for the rest of the school year.

As the car rolls along the highway, your mind wanders back to a few weeks before the semester started. The course load is much more formidable than Fall, now taking some upper division courses like psychology, business communication, international economics, and market analysis. That business comm class is going to kill you though. You sigh at yet another twist of fate of Jaebeom's presence in a class, which somehow leaves you feeling uneasy.

He struck up a conversation after the first class, asking for your phone number to discuss homework and projects. While you agreed, sensing something off, Yoongi appeared behind you as if summoned from thin air. His dark expression and the firm grip on your wrist conveyed a silent warning to Jaebeom.

Before leaving, Jaebeom couldn't resist a sudden sarcastic remark, "Wasting time? You better finish that mixtape if you want to get signed before me, Agust."

At the time, you didn't fully grasp the implications. However, his words linger, and you wonder if Yoongi has recently been struggling with his music and if that somehow was connected to you. The mixtape project, once a seamless process for him, now seemed to be hitting roadblocks.

You decide to try to pry into Yoongi’s mind and see if your suspicions are correct by continuing the conversation. "What about you, Yoongi? I know you’re taking that Recording Production Process class this semester to release a mixtape by the end of it."

"Yeah, yeah, it's going well,” Yoongi nods shyly, offering a few affirmations.

"Right, hyung is working on an album!" Taehyung chimes in from the back seat where he sits with Jieun, your upperclassman friend you'd invited on the trip.

"Oh really? That’s really cool, Yoongi!" Jieun compliments, her eyes sparkling at the mention of Yoongi producing music.

"And if you need a vocalist feature, you should ask Jieun. She’s in the university’s acapella group." you suggest, thinking it could add a unique dynamic to Yoongi's music. Yoongi has asked you to sing a couple parts in the past for his songs, though you always try to gently refuse. You don’t think you’re much of a singer and don’t want to ruin his works. However, Yoongi always thinks differently.

"Really? Jieun, if you don’t mind helping me out with some of my projects, I would greatly appreciate it." Yoongi proposed.

"Sure! I sing as a hobby, so I don’t know how great I would be, but I’ll do my best." Jieun responds, her willingness evident in her tone.

You met Jieun last year when she was a 2nd year TA in your Psych Statistics Analysis class. After several office hour sessions of trying to understand how Tukey’s Honestly Significant Difference worked (which you don’t want to explain how it works), you ended up befriending her and becoming good friends. You found out she’s an amazing singer outside of her pursuing a psychology degree and even a theater major. You think Yoongi would get along really well with her (cue Yoongi’s obscure interest in broadway musicals).

The car continues its journey through picturesque landscapes, and after two hours, you finally arrive at the campsite. Nestled in the embrace of nature, the site sprawls out with a serene lake nearby, and scattered cabin lodgings surround the area. You note the promise of a hot spring spa somewhere around here, creating a mental checklist for exploration later on.

As you step out of the car, the crisp January air hit you, carrying remnants of moisture from the previous days' rain. It is undeniably cold, and you question the wisdom of camping in the middle of winter. Everyone starts unloading the supplies from the cars for the next 2-3 days. Jin, Yoongi, Soyoon, and Jungkook take charge of building the tents, their collective efforts combating the chilly breeze.

After everyone settles down, you all decide to have a group meeting to discuss what you guys are going to eat for lunch.

Taehyung, who is always down for something random, proposes a cooking challenge that divides everyone into two teams: Team Red and Team Blue. The plan involves creatively preparing lunch and dinner using the BBQ grills and sinks at the picnic area, as well as utilizing the supplies Jin and Namjoon bought the night before. Everyone will decide on the best meal after dinner.

Team Red, consisting of Jin, Hoseok, Namjoon, Soyoon, Soohyun, and Jimin, strategize their approach.

Jin, surveying the available ingredients, rubs his hands together, ready for the challenge. "Alright, team! We have premade dough, broth, veggies, meat, fruit, side dishes, bread…ideas, anyone?"

Hoseok, ever the enthusiast, suggests, "I’m tempted to say we should make the barbecue feast for lunch. I’m craving BBQ so bad. Please, Jin."

“No! We’re doing that tomorrow night!” Jin lightly argues, earning a groan from Hoseok which makes everyone else laugh.

Namjoon, exchanging glances with Soyoon, feels a spark of inspiration. "What if we do something a bit different? Pizza. We can make pizza outdoors. It's a bit unconventional, but we do have the premade dough. I think the result will be worth it."

Soyoon giggles and nods in agreement, adding, "Yeah, I actually brought the dough because I thought we could use it to make something cool out here. Pizza would actually be fucking cool." Namjoon smile widdens knowing she understands him so well.

"I'm down for pizza!" Jimin, excited by the idea, chimes in.

"Let's make a giant combo pizza. That way, we can feed everyone." Soohyun, examining the ingredients, suggests.

Jin, impressed with his team brainstorming thoughts, declares, "Fantastic! Let's get to work. Hoseok, start the fire. Namjoon, you and Soyoon work on rolling the dough. Soohyun, you and Jimin can handle cutting the ingredients for the toppings. We've got this!"

The team disperses to their designated tasks, banter and laughter fills the air as they toss around more ideas. Amidst the cheerful chaos, your attention involuntarily drifts to Soyoon and Namjoon.

You steal glances at them, observing how they playfully engage with each other while improvising rolling pins from random cylindrical objects. The rhythmic motion of rolling dough becomes a backdrop to their shared laughter, and you can't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable.

It's different. In the past, Namjoon would get close with girls you didn’t even know, like Jihyo. This time, it hits a bit closer to home—Soyoon is your friend, and Namjoon is your childhood best friend. You remember the first time they met is when Namjoon came by to pick you up after a late night library shift during finals season last year. But you’re not even sure when they started talking to each other more without you knowing. Could it have been through one of their art history classes?

Lost in your thoughts, you're snapped back to reality when Yoongi playfully flicks your forehead, jolting you back to reality.

“Get your head in the game, Y/N.” He grumbles and you wince slightly in pain. Jerk.

“I am!” You retort as you go back to facing him and looking at the ingredients in front of you. “I was just trying to see what they were plotting for lunch.”

Yoongi can’t help but shoot you a questioning expression. You wonder if he knows that you were looking at them. It wouldn’t be the first time he catches you staring at Namjoon being with another girl. Whether he knows or not, he doesn’t decide to pry and instead looks back at the ingredients on your table.

“You can do that later, we need to start making something so we can have more time to not do shit later.”

“Just make some of your good old kimchi jjigae and have some rice on the side. It’ll keep us feeling warmed up for the night.” You see some packaged pork belly and hand it to Yoongi, “Add a little protein too.”

You’ve helped Yoongi cook in the past, so you have a sense of his cooking process when he decides to make stuff, specifically stew. This won’t take too long to prepare.

“I hate that this is such a good idea.” He groans, grabbing the meat as you smirk right back at him cheekily. “Everyone else on board? I just need the onion and green onions cut, then the pork belly stir fried before I put it all in the big pot for the stew.”

Everyone nods, followed by a “Yes Chef!” from Taehyung. As you get straight to chopping onions, you notice Yoongi looking at you with admiration. You want to know the thoughts that blossom behind his cat-like eyes, but you decide not to ponder it right now.

Taehyung takes a suspicious glance at you two, seemingly wondering about something. Though he remains silent, and instead goes to assist Jungkook and Jieun in preparing ingredients.

++++++++++++

The sky paints hues of orange and pink as the sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow over the campsite. You, Jimin, and Hoseok venture towards a pile of firewood behind the shower houses to build a cozy campfire for the night.

Jimin, ever perceptive, notices the contemplative look on your face. "Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" he asks, concern etched on his face.

You hesitate for a moment before replying. Did he notice you looking at Namjoon and Soyoon earlier? Shit, this is embarrassing. He must be thinking about how ridiculous I’m being.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just stuff on my mind, you know?"

Jimin shoots you a curious glance, silently questioning if you were ready to share what was bothering you.

Before he could delve deeper into your thoughts, Hoseok, his eyes darting around nervously, chimes in, "Guys, let's pick up the pace. It's getting dark, and I'm not really a fan of the dark in the woods. Gives me the creeps!"

You take this interruption as a chance to avoid answering him and focus on the task on hand. Jimin doesn’t push you to continue and you all walk back to the campsite.

+++++

The campfire casts dancing shadows on the faces of your friends as laughter and chatter fills the night. The aroma of the delicious kimchi jjigae lingers in the air. Yoongi and Jungkook busied themselves with slicing fruits and getting out the ingredients to make some s'mores.

Jimin goes to his trunk to take out several boxes of soju bottles, sparking a cheer among the group. The soft strains of music emanate from Hoseok's compact speaker, adding a melodic backdrop to the festivities. Crackling fire, music and the clinking of soju bottles set the perfect ambiance for the end of the B.T.S. member trip day one.

"Alright, why don’t we share some confessions around the campfire to bond with one another. Jin, you wanna kick it off?" Hwasa settles down on the picnic blanket around the fire and grins.

Jin nods, a mischievous glint in his eye, "Huh?! Me? Why don’t you start it off since you want to do this.”

“Give me like three minutes to think of something. So please go for it, Seokjin?”

“Agh, fine. Just don't judge me too hard,” Jin looks around and clears his throat before he continues. “Back in middle school, I tried to impress my crush with a card trick. It didn't go as planned, and I ended up looking like a dumbass magician. Needless to say, she wasn't impressed."

“That was kinda a lame confession.” Hwasa tells him and you try to stifle your laughter next to her.

“I said don’t judge me!” A bit of laughter ripples through the group. “You also didn’t add any rules!”

"If Hwasa wants to hear about embarrassing shit, let me share.” Hoseok eagerly volunteers, “I accidentally liked my crush's old Instagram photo while stalking their profile. It was from two years ago, and there was no way to undo it. I hoped they wouldn't notice, but they did."

“Oh see! That’s what I want to hear!” Your girl bestie yells in excitement.

Soyoon follows after, "Something to confess…I have this quirky habit of talking in my sleep. One time, my roommate caught me in the act and recorded. I talked about kissing girls for a good five minutes."

Namjoon chuckles a little too hard at that. "Funny you mention sleep-talking. I've been told I do the same thing. Apparently, I give motivational speeches about pursuing dreams in my sleep."

“No, you just ramble about shit that sounds like it makes sense when it doesn’t!” Jimin opposes. Namjoon tsks, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

The round table of confessions continues with Jieun, "Alright, brace yourselves. I had a massive crush on my neighbor when I was in high school. Turns out, he's now a famous actor in every Netflix show imaginable. I had no idea back then."

“Wait who?!” Everyone exclaims.

“I can’t kiss and tell.” She pretends to seal her lips, leaving everyone sighing and groaning.

The stories lighten the mood, but as Hwasa shifts the rules to be only dating confessions, a tension hangs in the air. You decide to tread carefully as your turn, "Well, I had this experience just once… you know, with someone. It was interesting, but things didn't exactly pan out."

“Come on, give us more juicy details! I haven’t heard you talk about this much.” Hwasa presses.

The gazes of Yoongi, Jimin, and Namjoon linger a bit longer, as you navigate through your words, leaving certain details in the shadows.

“Me and that guy were basically academic rivals. Always trying to one-up each other. I beat him and got the Salutatorian honor when I graduated. Jimin was Valedictorian. We never thought we’d date until I asked him to be my fake date to a wedding–”

A collective gasp and “oohs” escapes the group, and Hwasa clasps her hands together, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“It was my brother’s wedding.” Jin adds matter of factly.

“Yes, your brother’s wedding. Then one thing led to another and we dated for about 3 months until we broke up right when I moved for college.”

And now there was suddenly a bit of silence. Did I make the mood awkward? Oh god, maybe I should’ve made something up. You look around and see a bit of disappointment after a short rom-com summary of your first dating experience.

“Why did you need a fake date?” Namjoon was the first of your three best friends to speak up and ask. This catches you off guard.

“I…Er…”

Your hesitant response left an air of curiosity hanging around them. Namjoon's question touches on a chapter of your life you haven’t shared with anyone at all, and now, with the flickering firelight revealing the subtle expressions on everyone's faces, you feel a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty.

Why were you insistent to get a fake date back then? Even thinking about it now, it seems so silly of an idea. What were you trying to prove by having arms linked with a man, who you didn’t originally like, in front of your male best friends?

"It was to spite us. She didn't want to show up alone and have us think she couldn't find a date." Jimin interjects. He must’ve sensed you struggling to answer.

"Spiting us at a wedding? We could’ve just all gone as friends like we did for prom." Namjoon teases, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Was it really spite? Aimed at Namjoon, Jimin and Yoongi for taking other girls instead just going with you? What does that really say about you? Why do you feel unhappy when they don’t have you at the center of their attention? This isn’t a good time to spiral into this.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't the best idea." you chuckle nervously, glancing quickly at Yoongi and Jimin. Their expressions are unreadable, and the silence that follows your story lingers a bit too long.

Hwasa, not one to let awkward moments fester, leans in with a playful smile, "Okay, spill. Was he a good kisser?"

"I…uh, I think this is getting a bit too personal, isn't it?"

The group erupts into laughter, dispersing the tension that momentarily settled. As the night continues, the stories shift to lighter topics, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop.

+++++++

The campfire's warmth lingers on your skin as you gather your things from your shared tent, preparing to head to the shower building. The night is settling in, and the laughter of your friends still echoes in the cold air. As you pass by the dwindling group still gathered around the fire, you catch Jimin's eyes for what feels like a minute. There is a depth in his gaze that leaves you wondering if he, too, is navigating through a maze of emotions from earlier today.

It’s been two months, when will you finally make up your mind instead of leaving them hanging?

Your attention is momentarily diverted by a scene that tugs at your heart. Namjoon and Soyoon are sat close, giggling animatedly about an unknown topic in the glow of the firelight. The sight of Namjoon's deepened dimples and the warmth in his smile captivates you, the flames casting shadows on them.

And there it is again. A twinge of an unknown, yet familiar feeling sparks within you. It is a feeling you couldn't entirely shake off, even though you tried to bury it beneath layers of rationality. A mix of emotions swirls as you continue on your way to the shower building.

The path to the shower building is dimly lit along the way, and the sound of laughter at the campsite slowly fades behind you.

Upon reaching the shower building, you notice Yoongi sitting by a picnic table, a dim glow from his cigarette and phone lighting up the darkness around him. It is a sight you haven’t seen in a long time, and concern creeps into your mind. You thought he stopped smoking a while back. Without hesitation, you call out to him and take a seat.

"Hey Yoongs," you begin, studying his expression, "Are you good?"

Yoongi looks up at you, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hesitates to speak, opting instead to take a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls into the night air, carrying with it a sweet yet bitter scent, reminiscent of cherries.

“Why do you say that?” He finally responds, with a question, however.

“I haven’t seen you smoke since that time.” You refer to the month right before college when Yoongi got word that his father had fallen ill and was admitted to the hospital. Yoongi doesn’t smoke unless he feels like he needs something to keep him afloat while his mind is conflicted in chaos.

“Just felt like I needed it right now.” He explains shortly.

You sense his reluctance to provide context. While you normally don’t like to pry too much when it comes to him, you feel like you should right now. Aside from whatever transparency or honesty rules you have as fuck buddies, you are his best friend at the end of the day.

You sigh softly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Yoongi. But, you know, I'm here to listen to any of your worries. Anything. That's what best friends are for."

Yoongi's eyes widen a little from your reassuring words. It takes him a moment to collect his thoughts, the ember of his cigarette glowing in the darkness as he begins to speak. "You truly are an angel that comforts me when the world has gone to shit."

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit before following it up with another question, “What’s been troubling you this bad?”

Yoongi scratches his temple anxiously before putting his phone down. “It's just…the mixtape project is weighing on me more than I thought.”

"But you always come up with something amazing when it comes to music. We literally call you the hands of Midas."

He exhales a sigh, the smoke dispersing in the air. "Yeah, but this time it's different. Professor Kang is pushing us hard, and he's been emphasizing how crucial this project is if we want him to recommend us to work for Mr. Bang."

The gravity of his words sinks in. "The Mr. Bang from that one major record label in LA you told me about?"

Yoongi nods, and you can see the anxiety in his eyes. "Exactly. But he’s only recommending two mixtapes out of our 10-person class.” He takes a minute to assemble his next thoughts, finding it hard to speak out the potential outcomes. “This could be a game-changer for my career, but it feels like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, and everything could just crumble."

You remain silent, absorbing the weight of his concerns. Yoongi told you awhile back that Professor Kang is actually another big producer named Pdogg. The man is incredibly close with Mr. Shihyuk Bang, who is a part of a major record label that Yoongi has been dreaming of joining since high school. You know Yoongi doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, and that carries even more magnitude and pressure to his creative process.

"I've been working day and night, trying to create something that stands out. But with every passing day, doubt creeps in. What if it's not good enough? What if I disappoint everyone who believes in me?" Yoongi admits, his vulnerability laid bare. “Jaebeom really hit a nerve when I saw him a few weeks ago. He’s been working on good stuff too, especially with the help of some upperclassmen. I have Yijeong and Sammy giving me some feedback from time to time, but this is all done by me.”

He extinguishes the cigarette with a firm stomp, the embers scattering in the night air. Discarding the remains into the trashcan next to the table, he releases a heavy sigh, the weight of his thoughts etched on his features.

You recognize the heavy burden he carries. The expectations, the fear of failure, and the desire to prove himself in an industry that can be unforgiving – it's a lot for anyone to handle.

"I get it, Yoongi," you begin, your voice adopting a soothing cadence that seems to meld with the ambient night sounds of the forest around you. "It's a big opportunity, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. The music industry can be relentless, and there is a lot on the line for your future.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes at you, “Thanks for confirming my fears.” He chuckles.

“Wait! But here's the thing—you're not alone in this. We're all here for you, supporting you every step of the way."

You pause, letting the words linger in the crisp night air. Yoongi looks at you, his gaze a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"You've got an incredible talent, Yoongi," you continue, your expression earnest. "I've seen you pour your heart and soul into your music since we were in high school. Your dedication is inspiring, and it's about time the world recognizes it. The journey you’ll take will be tough, but remember, you're not just carrying your dreams. You're carrying the dreams of everyone who believes in you, and that's a powerful force."

Yoongi takes in your words, a subtle nod acknowledging the truth in them. The flickering light from the light post dances in his eyes, reflecting a renewed sense of determination.

"And, hey," you add with a soft smile, "even in the face of challenges, don't forget to savor the process. This journey is as much about the growth and experiences along the way as it is about the destination. Embrace it, and you'll find strength even in the toughest moments." You hold Yoongi’s large hand against your face, comforting him. He always likes his hands being held.

He exhales slowly, as if releasing a burden he didn't realize he was carrying. "Thanks, Y/N," he says, his voice genuine. "I needed to hear that."

Yoongi looks at you, gratitude and a touch of relief in his eyes.

As the heaviness of Yoongi's concerns lifts with your words of support, a more casual conversation takes its place. Yoongi turns to you, his gaze softening, and asks, "What have you been dreaming of lately, Y/N?

You ponder the question. As a second year in college, you haven’t spent much time thinking about it. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure yet. Maybe a corporate job somewhere nice, stable. I don’t really have much of a dream.” Yoongi looks at you, wanting to dive deeper on that, but you chose to divert the question. “But, no matter what, I hope to be close to you and everyone else until the end of time!"

His eyes widen, filled with admiration and awe at your sincerity. It's a sentiment that seems to touch him, and you feel a sense of warmth between you two. Emotions linger in the air, as if inching closer to understanding something profound.

Suddenly, as if propelled by an internal decision, Yoongi gets up. He extends his hand towards you, his touch gentle as he grabs your wrist. He looks at you with a hint of anticipation and eagerness in his eyes.

You don’t know what he has in mind, but if you’re with Yoongi, you have nothing to fear.

Intrigued, you follow him to the shower building which was empty at this hour in the night. Without a word, he pulls you into one of the shower stalls, closing the curtain behind you both. He starts kissing you, making you gasp into his mouth. As you close your eyes, you feel yourself slipping away, and in the process, accidentally turning on the shower. The water begins to flow, causing your clothes to get wet. In response, Yoongi starts undressing you, peeling off your clothes and tossing them to the side to keep them from getting too soaked. You didn’t mind though. You were going to shower anyway.

The soft sound of running water creates a soothing ambiance. The air fills with a mix of steam and electricity as your lips keep meeting each other again and again, while the world outside the shower stall fades away.

The sounds of water droplets hitting the tiled floor mixes with the soft hum of your shared breaths. There's a delicate dance between you and Yoongi, a silent exchange of emotions that words can never capture.

As the kiss deepens, you find a certain comfort in the connection, a reassurance that goes beyond the worries and pressures of daily life. Yoongi's hands, tender and deliberate, trace a soothing path across the expanse of your back.

He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes fixed on yours. "Y/N," he breathes, his voice a soft murmur that's almost lost in the sound of running water. "Do you want me to keep going?"

All thoughts in your brain are clouded by the horny brain rot brought about by Min Yoongi. This man is probably the most dangerous out of your three best friends.

“Please.”

This is the cue Yoongi needs to suddenly unchain his desires. His hands continue to explore, tracing patterns on your skin, and the heightened awareness of where you are adds a layer of excitement. The sound of the shower and the muffled noises from outside create a cloak of privacy, but at any moment, an impending intrusion could get you both caught. You don’t want to know what consequences await that.

The pure thrill of the situation and the delicate touch of Yoongi’s hands gets you wet with little effort. He breaks away from the kiss, leaning down to swirl his tongue around one of your nipples before turning you around. He kneads your ass in his hands then slips one hand between your thighs. Without warning he pushes one finger inside you with ease.

“So wet for me already?” He whispers into your ear sending a shiver down your spine. He uses his other hand to cup your soft breast.

The sound you choke out is not intelligible which brings a low chuckle to Yoongi’s throat. He slides the finger in and out of you slowly like he’s trying to drive you insane.

When he adds another finger you can’t help the sound that espaces your lips. He moves more quickly building the pleasure inside of you. Yoongi rests his head against your shoulder putting his hands on your waist.

“I don’t have a condom with me.” He groans, mentally beating himself. You turn around to see a pout gracing his lips.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control now.” You pause looking into his eyes.

“Really?” He says excitement lighting up his face before you can continue.

"Yup," you confirm with a playful wink. "I had been thinking about going on it when we made the deal to include Jimin, and I finally did it over winter break."

Yoongi chuckles, reaching to hold your chin gently with his fingertips, ensuring your eyes stay locked on his. "Such a little minx. You planning to do something scandalous with that?"

You eye him mischievously. "Maybe… but no risks tonight. Let's take it steady for now."

He turns you back around and gently guides your shoulder until you are bent over. He unzips his pants, revealing his hardened cock and holds it in his hand. With no resistance, he glides inside you and groans at the feeling.

You’ve never done this before. Not with Wonwoo. Not with Yeonjun. Yoongi is the first to go raw in you, and it feels so damn good. Every vein and curve of his dick is felt in your pussy, molding itself as the perfect fit. You don’t know if you could ever go back to the feeling of a condom-covered dick, but you’d have to. Though you’d hope that you’d get to be safely creampied at least once before going back to double coverage of condom and BC protection. That’s one of your ultimate goals, though you won’t let them know.

Yoongi traces his fingers up your side as he thrusts into you with long slow strokes. He is enjoying the thrill of being this close to you in such a risky environment and savoring every moment.

You find yourself lost in the intense pleasure he brings, each thrust a wave of delicious sensation that floods your entire body. You arch your back, allowing him deeper access. The slight pain from his movements intertwines with the pleasure, making this experience all the more unforgettable.

Yoongi's gaze never leaves your face, his eyes locked on you as he pushes deeper into your warmth. Your own eyes are wide with passion, the fear of getting caught replaced by the thrill of the moment. His fingers dig into your hip, his expression a mix of raw lust and pure adoration.

"Look at you," he growls, "You're so wet, and so tight just milking me.” He whispers against your ear, driving you slow to become viscerally animalistic. You’re so close.

Suddenly, as if the world wanted to manifest your worst fears, the door swings open. The voices of Hwasa and Soohyun echo through the shower building. Panic sets in, and you tense, trying to stifle any telltale sounds of your current sexcapade. Yoongi, ever the master of composure, holds back a laugh at your panic without halting his movements. How is he not worried?!

"Steam? Oh, someone’s already in here? Is it you, Honey?" Hwasa's voice calls out.

You struggle to respond, caught between pleasure and the risk of exposure. Yoongi's movements pause briefly, awaiting your cue. "Y-Yes," you manage to stutter out despite feeling how good his dick feels stuck inside of you.

Hwasa, seemingly oblivious, starts a conversation with you about the night as the two girls do their nightly skincare at the sinks behind your showers. She begins touching on the earlier confessions and how it was a fun activity. You struggle to act like you're paying attention, but all you can muster in response are muffled "Mhms." Each of them start to sound like moans, which scares you even more. Yoongi looks like he wants to laugh so bad. This won’t end well. Can the girls tell something is off?

The proximity to getting caught adds a thrilling layer to the encounter. Yoongi decides to continue several strokes mid conversation, “A-Ah..”

Hwasa's concern grows. "Are you okay, Honey?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," you manage through gritted teeth, looking back at Yoongi looking smug. You desperately hope they won't linger. Another noise escapes, and you quickly try to cover it up, pretending it was you dropping your shampoo bottle on your toe.

The girls, unsuspecting, leave not too long after, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The tension lifts, and a soft, shared laugh between you and Yoongi echoes in the confined space.

Without warning, this is Yoongi’s cue to go faster. He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

"Y-Yoongi!" He grips your hips tightly holding you into place as he thrusts into you harder and faster leaving you.

Your eyes flutter, a lustful grin pulling at your lips lost in ecstasy. Gripping the shower wall for support, you meet Yoongi's thrusts with equal intensity, your hips bucking back against him in perfect rhythm. The pleasure is overwhelming, the tension and fear of being caught only adding fuel to the fire.

His name from your lips was music to his ears, and that was all he needed. He moves deeper, relishing the tightness of your body around his member. You feel the pleasure coursing through your own body, your orgasm nearing.

Yoongi's eyes never leave your face, his expression showing that he's drinking in each detail of this moment.

"Come for me, baby," he growls, his tone changing from a mix of lust and adoration to something more possessive. "Let me feel you come around my dick."

His words are the spark that lights the fire, and you feel your body reacting to his touch. The waves of pleasure crash over you, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your nails hold onto dear life, and you cry out his name, your voice echoing in the shower stall.

“F-Fuck.” Yoongi soon falls to his own pleasure, pulling out quickling and cumming on your ass. Drops of his cream drip down your thighs and soon washed away by the shower downpouring on you two.

You both try to control your breathing as Yoongi holds you close in an embrace.

“T-That was…oh my God.” You can’t find the words to explain the whole experience, added with the adrenaline rush of getting caught.

“Good to know my cock feels better without the condom.” He smiles in a goofy way, still high on the orgasm. You smack him in the hip with your hand.

When your orgasms subsides, you send Yoongi to go retrieve your toiletries, towel, and pajamas that you left outside by the picnic table you two sat. You two bid goodbye to each for the night, and he leaves. You don’t know how he’s going to explain why he’s soaked from head to toe, but you pray he’s slick enough to avoid any eyes.

+++++++++

As Yoongi walks back from the shower house, water droplets cling to his tousled hair and drip down onto his damp clothes. His steps are sluggish as he wearily tries to wring out the water. In this moment, Namjoon suddenly strides up, his curiosity piqued, eyes narrowing at the unusual sight.

"Yoongi, why the hell are you all wet?" Namjoon questions, checking out the shorter man up and down.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just checking out the shower building, man. One of them was broken and here I am." He cheekily points to his wet attire. He feels a euphoric confidence after his rendezvous with you. So much so that if anyone tries to challenge him right now, he will not back down.

Namjoon narrows his eyes, finding it a little hard to believe. "Really? I thought I saw you go smoke alone back at the picnic area."

Oddly, this observation pisses him off.

"Didn’t know you liked stalking my whereabouts too." Yoongi is quick to rebuttal, bitterness lacing in his voice. Namjoon is taken aback by his best friend’s response.

"What are you even talking about? Aren’t you the one hiding—" Just as Namjoon is about to press further, Jimin appears, interrupting the conversation.

“What are you guys up to?” Jimin puts his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, which makes him relax slightly. He knows Jimin can manage to get Namjoon off his ass. He might even say that Jimin is his second angel tonight.

Namjoon glances between both of them, the tension palpable in the air. Yoongi's demeanor seems a tad defensive, and Namjoon feels there might be more to the story than he thought before.

“Just trying to figure out why Yoongi here looks like he went for a swim."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, dismissing Namjoon's inquiry. "Shower issues, Jimin. Nothing to worry about."

"Come on Joon, let's not make a big deal out of this. It's cold, and we're out in the middle of nowhere. Let’s just get him a towel and help him get a change of clothes." Jimin says casually, diverting Namjoon's attention away from Yoongi.

As Yoongi gives Jimin a subtle nod of gratitude, Namjoon reluctantly lets the matter go, deciding to drop the interrogation for now to help. Jimin seems to have an idea about Yoongi's whereabouts in the last 30 minutes, and he's not spilling the beans to Namjoon.

“If you think I haven’t caught on to you guys getting closer to Y/N in the last few months, you’re wrong.” The taller man says, warning heeding his voice.

The shorter men glance at him, not saying anything and enter Yoongi’s tent. They do share one thought at that moment though. You have to give them an answer once they come back to campus.

+++++++++

January 20 [Sunday]

The second day of the camping trip unfolds, and the group embarks on a hike through the scenic surroundings early in the morning after breakfast. The weather, though chilly, is pleasant, and the crisp air invigorates everyone. Conversations ebb and flow as the trail winds its way through the tree-filled landscape.

Jieun, a few steps ahead, animatedly shares memories of visiting this place during her childhood. "I remember catching fireflies by the lake in the summer." she reminisces, her eyes reflecting the nostalgia. Seokjin, walking beside her, chimes in with a grin, "I used to come here a lot too when I was a boy scout.”

Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook snicker in response to this.

“You guys can laugh all you want, but these boy scout skills come in handy."

"I don't know about them, but for sure Jungkook can fight a bear barehanded." Yoongi playfully remarks, the group erupting into even more laughter. Jungkook, sporting a lighthearted grin, flexes his muscles jokingly.

As you walk, you notice Namjoon and Soyoon strolling together. Soyoon, despite the chilly weather, wears a form-fitting pine green turtleneck that lacks the expected thermal warmth. Namjoon, ever the gentleman, notices her discomfort from the cold and offers his jacket. She initially refuses, probably mindful of the potential interpretations of their exchange. But after Namjoon continues insisting, he finally accepts with a gracious smile.

Behind Namjoon, you see Hoseok also catches the scene and shoots him a disapproving look.

Further back, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin seize the opportunity to tease Namjoon about his chivalrous gesture. "Look at Mr. Romantic over there." Jimin smirks, nudging Taehyung and Jungkook.

"I bet he practices that move in front of a mirror." Taehyung chuckles with them.

Namjoon, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, glances at them and then immediately at you. He seems to be searching for a reaction. You know you struggle at being fake. It’s not in your nature to hide your feelings. Though, you feel like he does sense a subtle frustration from you. He wonders if you have been feeling like this for some time. Why is he starting to see it only now?

Before he even has the chance to go over to you and question it, the sky suddenly transforms, heavy raindrops plummet from the clouds and onto the earth. Great. It's as if the weather gods have decided to test you and see what you would do. However, panic sets in when you realize you left your laptop in the tent, vulnerable to the impending downpour.

“Holy fuck! My laptop!”

“Wait, Y/N!”

Hastily, you dash back down the path toward the campgrounds, your footsteps echoing in the mud leaving behind a voice that calls out to you.

You worked on your assignment last night in the tent before going to sleep. Once you finished for the night, you left your laptop next to you and that was where you last saw it this morning before you left on the hike as well. There are no signs it was going to rain this weekend. Yeah, the soil seems moist from rainy days from the prior week, but everyone should’ve been safe now. How could the weather change so suddenly like this?

You recklessly sprint, fueled by worries of your irreplaceable laptop and paper, amongst other things. Like reality. And the irritation you feel seeing Namjoon keep giving his attention to— Your thought process cuts as you notice the uneven terrain beneath your feet become treacherous. The realization of the potential catastrophe awaiting you propels you forward, a surge of adrenaline pushing you beyond reason.

In your haste, disaster strikes. A misstep, a slippery surface, and you find yourself sprawled on the ground.

No sound from you, but pain radiating from your scraped knee and throbbing ankle. The once jubilant group following behind is now consumed by concern seeing you on the ground, injured and covered in mud.

Jungkook and Jieun are the first to reach you, genuine worry etched across their faces. "Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice carries a note of genuine concern. Wincing in pain, you shake your head, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I left my laptop in the tent, and I can't let anything happen to it, so I rushed off." you explain, your words rushed and pained. You feel yourself about to sob as you try to get yourself to stand and your legs are not cooperating.

“Hey, hey, be careful.” The younger man advises. However, the pain makes walking nearly impossible. Before anyone can offer help, Jungkook immediately leans down and decides,“You know what, just get on. I’ll take you somewhere safe.” Jungkook offers, gesturing you to get on his back.

The unexpected gesture catches you off guard.

“O-Okay…thank you Jungkook.”

“I’ll help retrieve your laptop as well. You’ll be okay” Jieun says, and you thank her.

However, as Jungkook carries you through the rain-soaked trail, glances are exchanged among the group. Jimin and Yoongi share a look laden with unsaid sentiments, a subtle pang of jealousy lingering in the air. It should’ve been them to help you, they think to themselves. They are the ones that like you after all. Though for some reason, they froze in that moment.

Namjoon, still grappling with the aftermath of his earlier actions, feels a tinge of disappointment in his own inability to respond swiftly too.

You, Jungkook, and Jieun are the first to make it back to witness the mess. The campsite now lies in disarray. Flooded and muddy soil squelches beneath Jungkook’s feet, and the aftermath of strong winds has left tents in tatters. Items that were once neatly arranged outside the tents now scatter across the ground, casualties of nature's sudden fury.

Amidst the chaos, Jieun takes charge, her quick eyes scanning the wreckage. Miraculously, your laptop emerges unscathed, protected by the cocoon of your sleeping bag. With a relieved smile, she carefully places it in its bag next to it and hands it to Jungkook, who holds it securely.

"We can't stay out here like this," Jin remarks, his practicality cutting through the disappointment that hangs in the air. "It could rain again and we could also get sick."

A collective sigh ripples through the group. The abrupt turn of events forces them to confront the reality of their situation. Plans of an idyllic hike and spending a weekend outdoors have been derailed by the unpredictability of nature.

"I can go check the cabin lodging next to the campsite to see if they have any available," Soyoon suggests, her willingness to take charge evident. Namjoon quickly volunteers to accompany her, the two of them lightly jog toward the lodging office.

In the meantime, everyone takes shelter under the picnic area until the downpour turns into light showers. Once it does, everyone starts packing up and cleaning the campsite in the meantime.

++++++++++++++++++

Luckily, Soyoon and Namjoon manage to book a large cabin by the lakefront.

“It was the only largest one available that could fit all of us. It’s also a little expensive…” Namjoon stated earlier. Seokjin shrugs, saying he’ll cover majority of the cost as long as everyone is able to chip in a little. We all agree. You thank god that Seokjin is the rich friend in the friend group during times like this.

The cabin charms with its cozy allure. A fully stocked kitchen was just what everyone needed right now. The gas BBQ included will definitely be useful to the meats that survived the storm. The upstairs living room invites relaxation with comfy seating and a Smart TV. Everyone immediately takes advantage of this and sits around.

Outdoors, the upper deck beckons with stunning views. Downstairs, the master bedroom offers luxury, a California King bed, and a sliding door to the lower deck overlooking the lake.

Four rooms in total provide ample sleeping space, including a bunk room with two sets of twin bunk beds. Practicality meets convenience with a fully equipped laundry room and an upstairs half bath.

Jungkook carries you into the master bedroom and lays you down on the bed, elevating your head with the pillows. Seokjin grabs a first aid kit he found in the kitchen and takes out bandages, disinfectant and other supplies to tend to your scraped knee and sprained ankle.

“See, told you my boy scout skills will come in handy!” You giggle at Jin’s attempt to cheer you up. As he works, Namjoon hovers nearby, his concern evident.

"You should’ve been careful." Namjoon murmurs, a gentle scolding in his tone.

You manage a sheepish smile, acknowledging his warning. Seokjin finishes the impromptu first aid session, making sure you're comfortable before stepping back.

"Thank you, Jin," you express your gratitude, relieved that the injuries aren't as severe as they could have been.

Seokjin waves it off, "No problem. Just take it easy for a while."

Jin and Jungkook disperse to join the others upstairs. Jimin and Yoongi, lingering at the doorway, exchange a glance.

Jimin steps forward, concern etched on his face. "How are you feeling, Honey?” he asks, sincerity in his eyes.

You nod, offering a reassuring smile. "Alright now, thanks to Jinnie. Thanks for worrying, Jimin."

Yoongi, standing a bit more reserved, adds, "Do you need anything? I can whip up some food."

"That would sound really good right about now."

"Give me about 20 minutes, and I'll come back with some sweet rice porridge. Sounds good?"

"Yes!"

Namjoon remains standing there watching your interaction with them. He feels somehow intimidated by how they're so much closer to you despite you all having the same title of "best friends".

He glances at your laptop on the nearby table trying to find a reason to remain here. While part of him wants to join the others upstairs, he lingers. Maybe he needs to let you know about his feelings soon before his relationship with you strains any further.

He sighs loudly, making you all look at him, “I’ll come back to talk to you later.” He excuses himself and follows Yoongi upstairs, leaving Jimin alone with you.

Aside from the fact that he’s upset that you got hurt, you’re not sure what else could be fueling an unknown frustration behind his eyes. You guess you’ll find out later.

Jimin has some thoughts about Namjoon’s behavior, but decides not to voice them right now and gives his attention back to you.

“You need to get out of these clothes, love. They’re really muddy and gross.” He comments, looking at you with a disgusted expression, making you laugh.

“I would try, but I literally can’t move much.”

“I’ll help you.”

Huh? Did Jimin just say he’ll help you undress yourself? You find yourself feeling very flustered suddenly. What if someone walks in? Locking the door seems suspicious but what else can you do?

“I-It’s fine! I’ll just try removing my clothes slowly one piece at a time!” You wave your hands frantically, creating a makeshift barricade against Jimin's helpful hands.

“Why are you being so shy right now? I’ve seen you naked at least 15 times by now.” he remarks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“H-Hey! Shut up! What if someone hears you?”

“Everyone’s upstairs, probably playing board games in the living room. Yoongi won’t be back for another 10 minutes or so. Plus he’s seen you naked too.” He checks his phone. “And he just texted the Sanctuary chat to say that he’ll come in whenever I’m done.” He flashes the text messages Yoongi sent.

You can’t continue arguing with a concerned Jimin, so you decide to surrender.

“Fine, just be quick.”

Jimin's eyes turn into crescents, satisfied he won this battle. He carefully removes your lilac puffer jacket, followed by your black converse sneakers and then your medium washed jeans covered in mostly dried mud and blood from your knee scrape. When he finishes gently unbuttoning your cropped long-sleeve polo shirt and removing it, he starts giggling. Perplexed, you shoot him a puzzled look, unsure what’s so funny to him. I mean, sitting here half naked is humiliating, so maybe you deserve it. You’ve been acting reckless.

“You’re just so pretty, Y/N. Never thought I’d be in a situation to even see you like this before the deal we made.”

Heat fills your face and you can’t even find words to rebuttal his claims. Why have those two men been saying things that make you feel like you’re going insane?

Jimin knows you feel embarrassment, but pays no mind as he unclasps your black bra, removing it and leaving your breasts bare. He decides to tease you a bit more and softly grasps your breasts, squishing them with his hands. Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling a surge of heat radiating elsewhere due to your chests’ sensitivity.

“I really never realized how beautiful you look naked before.” he admits with a playful tone. He continues with his massage until you finally fight back the horny demon that he awakens in you. Not today, Satan.

You playfully smack his arm, urging him to stop. “O-Okay, Jimin! I get it! Just give me that oversized t-shirt from my duffle and leave before I go crazy.”

He chuckles, relinquishing his playful antics and retrieving the desired t-shirt from your bag. “Glad I was able to cheer you up a bit, darling. We’ll have fun another time.”

Once he ensures you're comfortably tucked in, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead before exiting the room.

Oddly, that felt a lot more intimate than all the sex you two had before. It feels like you two are inching closer to a new territory beyond whatever fuck buddy and best friend relationship you have. You feel a little scared, but somewhat excited.

Before you can dwell on it further, you feel your body become heavier and you gradually drift into a peaceful slumber. You make just a small mental note to apologize to Yoongi for falling asleep before he can feed you some of his porridge.

+++++++++++

Several hours have passed and it is 2:30PM by the time you wake up from your nap. You were hoping to sleep for the rest of the day to avoid whatever confrontation Namjoon wants to have. You are still feeling tingles from the interaction you had with Jimin, but it proved too difficult with your sprained ankle getting in the way. There is also a group of your friends upstairs that will get suspicious at his sudden disappearance if that did happen.

Hwasa has sent you text updates regarding what everyone else is doing upstairs.

Hyejinnie [12:00PM]: I’m going to send you updates so you don’t feel FOMO Hyejinnie [12:01PM]: Wait you might.. I’m sorry bestie. ;( Welp, we are playing board games and eating snacks! Hyejinnie [1:22PM]: I’m helping ur boyfie make lunch with jieun eonnie. Oh and we’re all going to eat kbbq for dinner. Don’t miss out Hyejinnie [1:25PM]: wait not your boyfie i forget he’s just your fwb right now oops. pls ignore. Hyejinnie [2:07PM]: also you need to catch me up on whatever is going on with you and your.. friends. Don’t think i haven’t caught on ;p Hyejinnie [2:14PM]: I think we’re going to watch a movie now. Jieun said she’s going to show us a movie her old crush was in and we have to guess who it is lol Hyejinnie [2:25PM]: idk if you’re up from your nap, but let me know if you need anything. I’ll be in the living room watching the movie with everyone else. Some of the guys are on their phones though haha

You appreciate her consistent updates while you remain MIA from the trip festivities. Maybe you should take this quiet time as a chance to get back to working on your paper. You just need a few more paragraphs and a final revision before submitting it on Canvas.

Just as you plop your laptop on your lap, a strong knock is heard at the door. You yell to whoever is on the other side of the door that it's okay to enter. It turns out to be Namjoon.

You don’t feel mentally ready to talk to him yet. You’re honestly not sure if you can come up with any cohesive thoughts as you remember that you haven’t eaten since this morning. You glance around and see the bowl of porridge Yoongi must’ve left on the bedside table while you slept.

“I wanted to come in sooner, but Yoongi told me you fell asleep.”

You nod. “I felt really exhausted after that hike, the run and injury, so I knocked out once I felt safe enough to do so.”

“So is now a good time to talk?”

You feel hesitant to say yes, knowing another lecture from your tall, beefy best friend awaits you. You’re so over this trip. Despite all these feelings, you decide just to do it and get it out the way so you can eat.

You nod. “Okay, what did you want to ask me?”

“Why have you been acting really weird lately?”

He doesn’t hesitate to get straight to the point, which doesn’t surprise you much. Okay, so you’ve been caught. But what about you has been weird to him though? Does that mean the others have caught on to your behavior too?

You feign ignorance. “Can you elaborate by what you mean, Namjoon?” Your voice sounds deadpan, with a hint of coldness.

“Can you stop acting like you don’t know what you’re doing when you’ve been staring at me and Soyoon throughout this whole trip?”

Oh.

You shrug. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He ignores your remark and continues, “I already told you before. There is nothing going on between me and her, so you can just stop feeling jealous or whatever.”

Jealous? What?! How dare he make that accusation. You’re not jealous. You’re just worried for the sake of your friendship. There’s no other feelings tied to that…is there? Memories from the party in October where you saw Namjoon and Jihyo flash in your mind.

“No the fuck I’m not!” you immediately deny, a little too quick at that.

“Yes, you fucking are.” he smiles, knowing how right he is based on your defensive response.

“You’re sorely mistaken, Joon.”

“No, I’m not, Y/N. I noticed this even when I was seeing Jihyo and the girl before that. For some reason, you’re always acting off when another girl is involved with me.” He explains further.

Fuck. He really caught on to that a little too well. You know what, maybe he is right. Maybe you’re not jealous out of concern that these girls that keep showing up in Namjoon’s life will take him away from you. It’s really because you wish you were in their place. Being so intimately closer to him than you have ever been. Another flying thought of Yoongi’s questions that caused you to spiral comes to mind.

“You literally do that to me! I couldn’t even go somewhere without you acting weird and accusing me of hanging out with other men who do not live in our house.”

“That’s different.” He rubs the crease between his brows, you press your lips even tighter in frustration. “Plus, I don’t even think I trust some of the ones that do live in our house.”

Namjoon’s comment has you puzzled. What is he trying to imply?

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve just had a feeling that something weird is going on, and everyone seems to know except for me.”

Shit, everyone? You’ve been cautious this whole time except when you first slept with Yoongi, leading Jungkook to find out. But Jin, Hoseok and Taehyung? Have they somehow realized and have been quiet about it. There’s no way to address something you don’t even know. You have to redirect the conversation.

“You say that, but you’re the one being so vague about why you've been so buddy buddy with Soyoon lately.” You mutter with an attitude, crossing your arms. “You don’t have to hide it and lie to me if you’re interested in her. Just go date her already.”

Namjoon scoffs. He walks closer to you, outstretching his arms on both of your sides, caging you. He’s so close, smelling like the fresh wood sage cologne he sprays on after a shower. For some reason, this smell is more intoxicating right now than ever before. Your heartbeat feels like it’s increasing from the close proximity. This isn’t even the first time you’ve been this close to him, but there’s some kind of energy making you feel anxious than before.

“Because I don’t fucking want to.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“You.” Namjoon mouths out, words so quiet feeling like only you two are meant to hear.

“Huh? Me?” You scrunch your eyebrows while whispering at him. “Is my jealousy really getting in the way of you being happy?”

“You’re one of the smartest people I know and you still want me to spell it out for you?” He chuckles bitterly, seemingly feeling like he’s going to regret the next sentence that’s going to come out of his mouth.

You nod, “Yes, because I’m still confused about your actions and I’m tired of the constant misunderstandings and fights— ”

“Because I’m in love with you.”

The world suddenly goes silent for what feels like a thousand minutes.

Your mouth is left agape, unable to find any reason to continue speaking. Whatever thought bubbles filled your head with anger and anxiety are now gone. You find it hard to gather the next words you say from looking right into Namjoon’s dragon eyes, mesmerizing you.

“Y-You’re in l-love with me.” The realization escapes your lips, rather shaky, The words hanging in the air, charged with an unexpected gravity.

Namjoon takes a deep breath, his eyes holding a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes, I've been in love with you for a long time. Soyoon was in the process of helping me confess to you on Valentine's Day, but with you acting jealous and making up scenarios in your head, I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

Your mind races, processing his confession. Namjoon, your best friend, has just declared his love for you. The first one out of your friends… but is he? You vaguely remember Yoongi saying something similar during that one party, but you brushed it off. There’s also Hwasa’s observations… Jimin’s kiss on his birthday…

Oh no.

The gravity of the situation sinks in, and your internal conflict intensifies. You're entangled in a complicated fuck buddies deal with Yoongi and Jimin, who potentially may be in love with you too. And now a lot of these things are starting to make sense,

Then there’s Namjoon's words adding a new layer of concern. How will this confession affect your shit with Yoongi and Jimin? You like all of them but do you love them? You also do not live in a perfect universe to be dating all of them. Would they even want that?

Namjoon must sense your anxiety skyrocketing, because he leans in and kisses your forehead. And for just a bit, you go back to feeling floaty. You want to feel like this all the time, but it’s not going to happen anytime soon. You have things to resolve.

“You probably have a lot on your mind. I do too.” He cups your cheeks, sincerely staring into your eyes. “You don’t have to answer me right now. I just wanted to ease your mind before anything else happens.”

You nod back slowly, waiting for him to continue.

“I might be gone for the fall semester.” He starts, moving over to sit on your bed.

Oh.

“I applied for a study abroad law program in New Zealand and Korea. I’ll be in my last year and my parents told me over winter break that they want me to go abroad and gain some new experience. I see Yoongi working so hard and I feel like I haven’t been doing much at all.”

This new information comes as a shock to you, and you feel excited for him, yet sad for several reasons

Namjoon had fought with his parents last summer about wanting to pursue a career as an archivist or art conservator. They said it wasn’t ideal and that he should focus on being a civil servant and then become a politician. He came over to your house once and stayed the night in your room, shedding tears about how his parents didn’t understand him.

The second reason is more selfish: You’ve never been apart from Namjoon for a long time since you first met him. Sure, since you guys have a one year age difference, there were times that you weren’t at the same school together. Though, it’s not like you never saw each other at least some point in the week. You’re neighbors after all. This would be different. Maybe there will be an occasional facetime call or texts sent during different time zones from him retelling his adventures. Though it won’t be the same as having him with you. You’re not going to admit that right now though.

“So you’re not going to pursue art and become an archivist or art conservator anymore?”

“I…I am. I’ll find a way to prove to my parents that I can do this and be successful. I’ll network, find a way to get into that space more. Studying abroad would be a great way to do that.” He explains softly.

You remember the question Yoongi had asked yesterday about your dreams. You still feel like you don’t have a concrete answer, but seeing the way your older best friends try so hard makes you think you should start focusing on that as well. You wonder if Jimin has any thoughts of his own regarding the future too.

Namjoon continues to converse with you about his future plans and why he had to confess to you now, as he didn’t want it to be “too late” and regret it later on. While you don’t ask him what he meant by that, you kind of had an idea.

++++++++

Once Namjoon leaves your room to rejoin everyone upstairs, the floaty and relaxed feeling inside you fades away and you immediately start to feel like shit.

The truth begins to bear down on you: Yoongi and Jimin's friends-with-benefits arrangement might not be just a casual fling. They probably like you too — well, more than a best friend. The deal was probably to act as a trial period, a way for them to express their feelings without the complexity of a formal confession and for you to realize some repressed feelings. Although now, with Namjoon's direct and sincere confession, you just simply don’t know what to do anymore.

Things were easier when you didn’t have to think about this much originally with Yoongi. Just have sex from time to time and still remain best friends. When Jimin managed to seduce you, awakening something within you, and get added as fuck buddy #2, you had stepped into a dangerous zone. Now the thought of Namjoon getting added to that…

No! He’d never do it. He’s not as open-minded and insane to become your third fuck buddy. If he found out, you don’t think he’d be happy. He’d probably murder Yoongi and Jimin for hiding and doing such an insane thing. Then you’d be next. And even if you’d add Namjoon to this fuck buddies trial deal, you don’t think anyone would be happy in the end.

You love them all. No favoritism for one over the others. They all have something that makes you feel butterflies, whether you realized it before or not.

Is this the perfect time to talk to Hwasa about your dilemma? You don’t even think you’ve told her about you and Jimin, but she’s perceptive. She probably saw some signs, but hadn’t commented on them.

You [4:03PM]: Hey Hwasa, we need to have a girl talk time. Hyejinnie [4:04PM]: Say no more! I’m telling Jungkook to come carry you up so we can talk in my room.

And just when you received that message, Jungkook shows up at the door and bows to you.

“I have been requested to bring up the Honey Princess to Hwasa’s room.”

You laugh. He’s adorable, you think. “Yes? Please take me up, Sir Jungkook.”

Jungkook carries you on his back once again, up the stairs. You take a glance of Yoongi, Jieun, Jin and Namjoon in the kitchen, preparing dinner before you are in Hwasa and Soohyun’s shared room at the end of the hall. Jungkook comments that he’s getting you ice to make your ankle’s swelling go down, leaving the room. You faintly hear him scolding your guy besties for not doing that earlier, making you guys laugh. He comes back with a bag of ice and then exits the room, closing the door in the process.

Hwasa greets you with a warm smile as you settle onto the bed, propping yourself up against the pillows. This bedroom is adorned with fairy lights, creating a cozy atmosphere that contrasts the turmoil in your mind. Hwasa, perceptive as always, senses that something serious is on your mind.

"So spill, what's going on?" she asks, her eyes filled with concern.

You take a deep breath, contemplating where to begin. "Remember my thing with Yoongi…” You whisper, hoping no one outside could hear. The TV is pretty loud playing someone’s Spotify playlist though.

“Yes, of course! Are y’all still…”

“We are.” Hwasa nods in response. “I’ve been keeping things lowkey so I haven’t told you much advancements, but I also started doing that with Jimin."

Her eyes widen, not in surprise, but more in confirmation of her past observations. “I figured that might’ve been the case when I kept seeing you be a little more touchier than usual in class last semester."

Your face reddens as you remark. “Nothing really passes by you, does it?” Hwasa can’t help but laugh at your reaction.

“You’re literally living the dream!” She holds both of your hands, intrigued at your ‘love life’. “They’re two of the finest frat boys on this campus. I don’t see how there can be a problem.”

"Except there is…" you admit, unraveling your overall deal with Jimin and Yoongi, your thoughts about them probably liking you and the argument you had with Namjoon earlier. As you share the details, Hwasa listens attentively, offering occasional nods and empathetic expressions.

"Wow, that's…a lot," she remarks when you finish. "And now Namjoon dropped the bomb? He’s equally as hot too."

You nod, feeling the weight of the situation. "Exactly. I never expected him to confess. I didn’t think he felt that way about me. Now, I'm stuck in this mess, and I don't know what to do!" You fall back onto the pillows, looking at the ceiling in frustration.

Hwasa places a comforting hand on yours. "First things first, take a deep breath.” You do. “It's a lot to process, but you'll figure it out. Now, tell me how you feel about each of them. Let’s start with Jimin"

“Jimin is someone who I feel comfortable with to try new things. He’s always managed to get me out of my shell and without him, I don’t think I’d be the person I am today. He’s also really kinky in bed so…Soft dom vibes?”

“Okay, spicy, I see! And Yoongi?”

“Yoongi feels like my soulmate…even Jimin pointed it out. We’re so in tune with one another that I don’t feel so on edge around him. I feel more relaxed. But I’m so emotionally driven and sometimes he doesn’t get that. Though he does try. Always does.”

Hwasa coughs repeatedly, “How’s the sex?”

“I… It’s really fucking good. Getting fingered by a man who plays the guitar is another worldly experience. Ten out of ten.” Hwasa squeals hearing this, but quickly covers her mouth to avoid anyone coming in concerned.

“Well holy shit. I guess that leaves Namjoon?”

“Namjoon, right.” You haven’t thought about it much before, but it was mainly because you’ve tried not to see him like that. He was obviously attractive with his muscles and tall height. His brains are another thing. “Aside from how obviously hot he’s always been, his mind is just so eloquent. He’s such a big brother at times and while I get annoyed at his lecturing, he makes me feel grounded and keeps challenging me to work harder. I don’t know what else to say?”

You find that articulating your emotions brings a sense of clarity. Hwasa provides thoughtful insights and asks probing questions, guiding you through the maze of your own emotions.

Once you've laid out your feelings, Hwasa leans back, pondering. "Alright, here's what I think. You need to have an honest conversation with all of them. Start off with Yoongi and Jimin, then somehow get Namjoon in that conversation. Lay your cards on the table, and let them know where you stand. It's the only way to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings."

You sigh, realizing the truth in her words. "But what if I can't choose between them? What if I ruin everything?"

Hwasa smirks, "Then, my dear, you need to consider a different kind of arrangement—one that works for all parties involved. But that's a discussion for another day. For now, focus on being open and honest with them. You owe it to yourself and to them."

“You’re right. Thank you Hwasa for hearing me out on my crazy dramatic life. I appreciate you so much.” You gesture her to get closer so you can give her a hug, and she does.

+++++++++++

After your heart-to-heart with Hwasa, Jungkook comes in to let you know that dinner is ready and that he’ll be taking you over there. You appreciate his kindness.

The delicious aroma of the meat wafts through the air as you enter the kitchen, where the group is gathered around the table, engaged in lively conversation.

Jin, always the culinary maestro, tells everyone to take their seats. As you settle in, you can't help but glance at your three best friends at different points during the meal.

Yoongi is focused on grilling meat, his brows furrowed in concentration. The subtle scent of his cooking skills fills the air, momentarily distracting you from your internal conflict. You catch his eye, and there's a silent understanding between you two.

Jimin, sitting across from you, steals occasional glances your way. His gaze is warm and comforting, reassuring you that no matter the complications, he's there for you. A small smile passes between you that speaks volumes.

Namjoon, busy discussing something with Hoseok, occasionally looks in your direction. There's a mix of emotions in his eyes—longing, and perhaps a touch of hope.

The dinner is filled with laughter and camaraderie as the trip ends tonight. You try to savor the meal and the company, but the weight of the unspoken hangs in the air.

As the night progresses, you find yourself more restless. The uncertainty of your situation gnaws at you. Once dinner concludes, you and the other girls go to the living room to watch some youtube videos on the smart TV. As they busy themselves talking about stuff, you grab your phone and open the group chat with Yoongi and Jimin.

You [8:45PM]: Valentine’s Day. I’ll give you my decision.

Sending the message, you brace yourself for the conversations that lie ahead. Whatever happens, you face it headstrong.

–

–

tbc :O a/n: uh-oh we're getting to the conflicting part hehehehe !!! i apologize for the delay getting this chapter out. i am currently working on some big things and doing some interviews so the fic had been neglected for a month or so, but i am back for a bit and already working on CH 8 as well! Anyone have any thoughts or theories on what Y/N will decide to say? i'd love to hear about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[alyssaforevermore]

Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season one, part five

Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?

Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!

Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @suniloli (won't let me tag you sorry)

Masterlist

You sat back in the office building, Rick unzipping the bag of guns and beginning to divide them.

“We can’t seriously be giving into them, right?” You asked.

“Them guns are worth more than gold.” Daryl spoke. “Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You're gonna give that up for that kid?”

T-Dog nodded. “If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree. But you think that Vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?”

“We need to get Glenn back, but we can’t give up the guns.” You spoke.

“Are you calling G a liar?”

Daryl smacked the back of Miguel’s head. “Are you a part of this? You want to hold onto your teeth?”

“Question is, do you trust that man’s word?” T-Dog asked.

Daryl shook his head. “No, the question is what are you willing to bet on it? Could be more than guns. Could be your life. Is Glenn worth that to you?”

“What life I have I owe to him.” Rick responded. “I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn’t. Neither will I.”

Knowing Glenn was the reason you had your brother back again hit you like a ton of bricks. You hadn’t heard the details until now. You’d always liked Glenn, but now you knew you had to do this. You owed him everything.

“So you’re gonna hand the guns over?” Daryl asked.

“I didn’t say that.” Rick took a deep breath. “There’s nothing keeping you three here. You should get out of the city, head back to camp.”

“Are you insane?” You asked.

“What are we supposed to tell your family?”

“Come on, this is nuts.” Miguel sighed. “Just do like G says.”

You shook your head. “Rick, if you’re doing this, we’re with you. I said we have to stick together here, and I still mean it.”

Rick looked between the three of you, unsure of how to respond. Finally, he nodded, grabbing the guns. “Let’s get this done.”

…

The four of you arrived back at the hideout with Miguel tied up in front of you. The doors opened and Rick pushed the boy inside.

G stepped forward, looking amongst you. “I see my guns but they’re not all in the bag.”

“That’s because they’re not yours.” Rick responded. “I thought I mentioned that.”

Felipe stepped forward. “Let’s just shoot these fools right now, ese. All right? Unload on their asses.”

“I don’t think you fully appreciate the gravity of this situation.”

“No, I’m pretty clear.” Rick cut Miguel’s bindings, pushing him towards the group. “You have your man. I want mine.”

G’s eyes narrowed, stepping closer. “I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?”

“No, my hearing’s fine. You said come locked and loaded.” Rick cocked his shotgun, aiming at G as you all followed suit. “Okay then, we’re here.”

“Felipe!” The sound of a lady’s voice came through the crowd. “Felipe!”

“Abuela, go back with the others… now.”

“Get that old lady out of the line of fire!” Daryl hissed.

“Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now.” G whispered.

“Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlitos didn't find it. He needs his medicine.” The woman spoke.

G shook his head. “Felipe, go take care of it, okay? And take your grandmother with you.”

“Abuela! Ven conmigo por favor.”

“Who are these people?” The woman asked, stepping closer as she eyed Rick. “Don’t you take him.”

“Ma’am?”

“Felipe's a good boy. He has his trouble but he pulls himself together. We need him here.”

Rick lowered his gun, his voice soft. “Ma’am, I’m not here to arrest your grandson.”

“Then what do you want him for?”

“He’s… Helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn.”

“The Asian boy?” She asked. “He’s with Mr. Gilbert. Come, I’ll show you.”

The woman took Rick’s hand, leading him through the crowd.

G sighed. “Let them pass.”

The woman led everyone outside, coming up to a whole new area. She pushed the door open, stepping into what looked like a nursing home. There was medical equipment scattered around, an older man sitting in a room off to the side. You soon entered a gymnasium, a crowd of people gathered around an elderly man. Felipe handed him an inhaler, guiding him through his breathing.

“What the hell is this?” Rick asked.

“An asthma attack.” You finally noticed Glenn. “He couldn’t get his breath all of a sudden.”

“I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man!” T-Dog spoke.

You turned around, three Chihuahua’s sitting nicely on a dog bed. One let out a small bark.

Rick turned to G, glaring hard. “Could I have a word with you?”

G nodded, leading your group out of the gym and towards a small office.

“You're the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met.” Rick snapped. “We walked in there ready to kill every last one of you.”

“Well, I'm glad it didn't go down that way.” G responded.

“If it had, that blood would’ve been on our hands.” You spoke.

“Mine too.” G nodded. “We'd have fought back. Wouldn't be the first time we've had to. Protect the food, the medicine… what's left of it. These people, the old ones… the staff took off, just left 'em here to die. Me and Felipe were the only ones who stayed.”

“What are you, doctors?”

“Felipe’s a nurse… a special care provider. Me, I’m the custodian.”

“What about the rest of your crew?” Rick asked.

“The Vatos trickled in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too. We need the muscle. The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind… plunderers, the kind that take by force.”

Rick shook his head. “That’s not who we are.”

“How was I to know?” G asked. “My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage… appearances.”

“Guess the world’s changed.” T-Dog commented.

G shook his head. “No. It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The Vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves, still, it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except for one entrance. The Vatos, they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why.”

“Because they can.” Rick smiled.

Rick took the bag off his back, laying it on the desk before beginning to divide the guns. He gave the group about half of them before the five of you left, heading back to your van.

As you neared the van, Glenn smiled. “Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat.”

You looked at Rick, who placed the hat on his head. “Don’t tell anybody.”

“You’ve given away half our guns and ammo.” Daryl huffed.

“Not nearly half.” 

“For what?” Daryl asked. “Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow? Seriously, how long do you think they got?”

“How long do any of us?” You asked.

Daryl shook his head, walking further ahead of the group. Someone urged you to catch up to him, jogging ahead.

“Hey,” You spoke, earning a glare. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find your brother.”

Daryl’s face softened but as he went to respond, Glenn let out a gasp.

“Oh my god.”

You looked ahead, noticing the van was no longer where you’d left it.

“Where the hell’s our van?” Daryl asked.

“We left it right here!” Glenn sighed. “Who would take it.”

“Merle.” Rick responded.

Daryl shook his head. “If he did, he’s gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp.”

…

The five of you rushed back to camp on foot, finally nearing the top of the quarry at nighttime. The lack of tire tracks on the ground was a good sign, but for all you knew, Merle could’ve parked down the hill and walked the rest of the way.

Suddenly, the sound of gunshots filled the air. You all exchanged looks before beginning to run the rest of the way. As you arrived at camp, walkers were scattered everywhere as people screamed in terror. You noticed the bodies of some of your people, torn apart by the dead.

“Y/N?” Rick asked.

You searched for your knife, remembering you’d dropped it in the city. “Shit. I need a gun!”

Rick tossed you his python, which he’d thankfully loaded earlier, beginning to shoot the dead with a shotgun.

You tried to clear a way towards the RV, the dead just getting closer and closer. There were far too many of them. Your attention shifted as you noticed Lori and Carl behind Shane, who was shooting the dead in front of him.

You felt a hand grab your shoulder, letting out a scream as you pulled yourself away. Just as it was about to bite your arm, a crossbow bolt flew through its head. You looked around, Daryl rushing towards you.

“Come here,” He spoke, leading you towards one of the cars.

He helped you climb up before running off again. You now had the high ground, shooting as many of the dead as you could before your bullets ran out. Now you stood on top of the car, relying on the others to shoot the last few dead surrounding you.

Finally, things grew silent as you took in the carnage around you. There was so much blood, more than you’d seen before.

“Dad!” Carl screamed.

“Carl!” Rick called back, running and pulling his family into his arms.

You slid down off the car, rushing over to the group.

“Amy!” You heard Andrea call, grabbing your attention.

Amy laid on the ground, bleeding from her neck and arm while Andrea held her close. You could hear her struggling to breathe before finally, she fell silent. 

Andrea began to sob, repeating her sister’s name over and over again.

Jim took off his hat, shaking his head. “This was the dream I had last night. I remember it now.”

----

AN: Thank you for reading this chapter! The last two have finally started getting into Daryl/Reader and I'm so excited to continue developing the relationship. If you'd like to request to be tagged in future chapters, you can do so here. Please be sure to like and reblog <3

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 12

a/n: I love pining, i really do

Warnings: depictions of a toxic relationship, canon typical mentions of violence/injuries.

Word count: 2.5k

Other chapters

“Why do you say things like that?” 

It was ridiculous. In the darkness of the dungeons it was almost impossible to tell when she was awake or asleep. The only grip to reality and the waking world would be when Eris would come to bring her food and water or when his father would visit. Beron never stayed for long, at first he would interrogate her, quickly get irritated when she wouldn’t say anything and then knock her out. The ways he knocked her out got more creative as the days blurred. The first time it was a straight punch to her right eye. The second, he brought a thick book to deliver a firm blow to the back of her head. The third she couldn’t remember. Recently, he’s resorted to putting a soaked  cloth over her nose and mouth and waiting until she inhales the putrid substance. It usually takes a few seconds for her to be out cold. He doesn’t ask questions anymore. When she wakes up the wound on her arm is fresh. 

Since Beron has altered his methods, the dreams seem to slip into the darkness of the dungeon. Sometimes they are based on the recent horrors she has come to experience. It's silly really, but the dreams that hurt the most are those that remind her of the past.

 “Sweetheart, I’m just being honest” he always prided himself in being sincere. 

“You’re being mean” he knew it, too. But that was the darkness Mathew carried. The sword he wielded and sharpened with her. His laughter made her skin crawl, he enjoyed the fighting. “Don’t be an idiot, I’m just saying that that dress doesn’t look good on you anymore”. How do I respond to that? “And you think telling me that five minutes before we leave is helpful?” He shrugs “it gives you five minutes to change”. She ground her teeth and walked back into the bedroom.

She must look and smell like hell. Her hands can’t run through her hair anymore. The strands are stuck together with a mixture of sweat and blood. She knows she’s pale because she hasn’t seen the sun in days or maybe weeks at this point. But her skin is covered in bruises, scrapes, dried blood and dirt. 

“You know I love you” she cringes at the memory of those words followed by cold dominating touches down her back. He would always remind her. After every fight and every insult those words would be loaded like bullets on a shotgun. She sighed with relief when a familiar glow appeared from the stairs.

Eris had been having trouble keeping up appearances and doing his usual tasks as heir in between plotting to get y/n out and far away from Beron’s grasp. It took every bit of restraint that he possessed to not slice his father’s head clean off. Each day she was more pale, she had new bruises and a fresh layer of blood would be coating her never healing arm. He had managed to convince his father to let her out so she could bathe and be fitted for a dress for the ball. “If you want to be convincing I can’t have a walking corpse as my escort” Eris had told him. He made a point to let his disgust show. “And leave her face alone, it is already difficult enough to stand being near her” that last line had been a risk. But as far as he could tell, her face had been left untouched. She had told him they were drugging her now. He didn’t know which was worse. 

“Hi” her soft voice brought him out of his thoughts. “Hello” he said back and kneeled down at the grates with a bowl of soup. She crawled over and sat in front of him. “How do you feel today?” It was a dumb question, but he always asked. She swallowed a few spoonfuls before answering “the same, I feel extra gross today”. He nodded “tomorrow someone will come get you to take a bath and get fitted for a dress”.  She didn’t say anything until she had finished the bowl. “I don’t know if I can even walk let alone dance at a ball” he held her hand through the grate. “I’ll have a healer come by during your fitting, the ball is three days away. Just three days, y/n, and you’re out”. She was so cold. The once lilac coat she wore was a brownish grayish color now, but it remained intact. “Why are you so cold? Does that coat not work?” She shook her head “the coat is fine, but I don’t know. I feel the cold in my bones” he sighs and motions for her to get closer. He opens his palms in front of her and lights two small fires “try to warm up”. With more light he can see the dark circles under her eyes and how dry and chapped her lips are. Usually she’s a thing of beauty and radiance. But down here she’s a poor soul trying to stay alive. 

“It's very convenient you can wield fire” she says, her face has regained the slightest bit of color and her posture is more relaxed. “I almost forgot” he pulls out a piece of chocolate cake he had taken from the kitchens and hands it to her “dessert”. She lights up when she sees the slice. “This looks delicious” he smiles, for a second, “dig in” and hands her a fork. He had to leave after an hour. It got harder with every visit. 

Azriel could count on one hand the number of hours he had slept since he found out she was being held hostage. The only thing keeping him somewhat sane was the knowledge that she was alive. But he knew where she was and who was in charge of her and that made him sick.  “I say we wait until the ball is in full swing and sneak her out through one of the back rooms. Winnow her back to Velaris” Rhysand suggested. But Azriel stepped in “they’ll take precautions so she isn’t left alone”. They had been debating how to get her out without declaring war on Autumn for hours and had not come to one single agreement. 

She flinched when she was met with the bright lights of the main level of the Forest House. They had dragged her up the stairs, through the servants quarters and hidden passages and into a luxurious bedroom where they had dropped her like a heap on the floor. She hadn’t walked properly in days now. With hands placed on the floor and knees braced to hold her weight, she pushes herself up slowly and manages to stay balanced for a few steps until she reaches an armchair. Letting herself melt into the soft cushions she moans at the feeling. This room reminded her of the one she used to have in the House of Wind. That seems so far away now. The bed is huge and perfectly made. There is a large window across from where she’s sitting and she can see that Autumn remains intact. She wonders how Muriel is doing since she's been gone. Gone. The word felt like a punch to the gut. Mindlessly she brings her hand to her stomach and winces. Beron had stopped hitting her face but he would kick her sometimes. There was a desk, littered with mountains of papers. Why would they bring me here? This is clearly someone’s room. She tenses when the door to the room opens. Eris walks in. He sighs with relief and scans her from head to toe. “Good, you made it” she was gaping “are you crazy?”  He helps her get up from the chair “this is better than buckets”. 

Eris walked her to the bathing room and filled the tub. “Take your time” he says and motions to where the towels and a fresh set of clothes are. Taking her clothes off took so much effort she was out of breath. Getting in the tub was tedious but she made it and groaned as the perfectly warm water enveloped her.  

She scrubbed every inch of her body and hoped the dark marks would wash away. But realized that she is trying to scrub away bruises. Sighing, she inspects her arm. A thin scab had formed along the gash. It was around this time each day that Beron would visit her and slice it open again. She washed her hair at least five times. Hands pruned by the time she got out. 

When she stepped out of the bathing room Eris was waiting for her with an older lady. “You look better,” he said. She hadn’t been brave enough to look in the mirror. “At least I’m clean” he helps her back to the chair. “This is Sylvia, she’s a healer. You can trust her. I need to leave for a while but I’ll be back soon” he leaves the room. 

Sylvia tells her she is dehydrated, anemic and sleep deprived. She rubs a salve all over her bruises and a different one on her forearm. Then, makes her lay down on the bed, tucks her in, under the thick earth toned covers and tells her to sleep. 

The feeling of slightly sinking wakes her. Eris is sitting at the end of the bed, hands covering his face. “What’s wrong?” He looks at her and tenses, “nothing, did you get some sleep?” She nods “like a baby”. “Your fitting is soon” right, the ball. “Tell me again how you are planning to sneak me out during a very public event?” Eris helps her get out of the bed “it’s better if you don’t know” she hums “that is not reassuring” he sighs “it’s the best I can do”. 

“The High Lord wants you in Autumn Court colors” the seamstress says as she inspects y/n. Her hands are perched on her hips as she circles the girl. “Orange would wash you out, maybe a deep cool tone green will do” she says and brings out swatches of fabrics. She pulls out measuring tape and jots down your measurements as she takes them. 

After the fitting, the same guards from the morning took her back to the dungeons. Two more days. Two more days and I’m out. 

She shivered as cold claws pierced her abdomen. Her scream was muffled by something slimy. The claws scraped down her skin, leaving three jagged lines in their wake. She struggled, as much as she could, but she was pinned against a tree. Presented like a meal. She could see the stones in front of her, behind the creature that suckled at her wounds. The sickening sound of its slurping made bile rise in her throat. Just kill me. But the thing was taking its time, playing with its food. 

When the guards came to get her she was catatonic. 

When Eris saw her he thought she had been broken. 

“Leave us” he ordered. Stepping closer he could tell that the bruises that had been visible were mostly healed. Her arm still raw. “Hey, are you there?” She didn’t look at him directly but nodded. “You’re getting out today, after the ball, everything is worked out” his voice a gentle whisper. Her bottom lip quivered and he rushed forward as her knees gave out “I can’t do it, I can’t” she hadn’t cried in so long. Fat salty tears poured down her cheeks “you can” Eris held her up, and brought her to his chest. She was shaking “this is a nightmare. I can’t do it anymore” he rubs her back, trying to warm her up. “It will be over soon,” she continued to weep. Not believing him. 

Azriel had never wanted to kill someone more than when he saw Beron enter the throne room in the Court of Nightmares. He and his wife walked in first, not looking at each other. They were followed by their middle sons. All dressed elegantly and carrying themselves as the royalty they were. Eris and y/n were the last to enter.

Azriel hated the way she clung to him like a lifeline. How her eyes didn’t meet his. How she had gone pale, her skin translucent. They had dressed her in a long sleeved dark green gown that matched Eris’ suit perfectly. Her hair was in loose waves and a golden tiara was placed on her head. Her neck was adorned with a gold necklace that, in his opinion, resembled a collar and there was an emerald ring on her left hand. There was no denying she looked stunning, but her eyes were gaunt and her lips were set in a thin line, a borderline frown. Her head hung low.

The dancing began. Eris was keeping her upright and leading her through dances that she did not know. It had been so long since she had heard music. A few times during the night she let her eyes close and moved with the rhythm of her own accord.

Azriel hated how he could smell her and hear her voice whisper in Eris’ ears but could not touch her. He could not rip his hands off her.  How he could not take her back to her room, which remained untouched since she had left. He hated how he could not be certain that she would remain unharmed. 

She couldn’t say she was having fun, not really. Her mind constantly going to the Shadowsinger lurking by the dias. She could feel his eyes on her and she fought against every fiber of instinct to not look at him. Eris had warned her of his father’s intentions. Which is why she tensed as the High Lord of Autumn called everyone’s attention. 

“I believe this is the perfect opportunity to make an announcement very pertinent to the future of Autumn, if you’ll allow me Rhysand” he practically sneers. The crowd murmurs. She swallows, knowing what is about to come. Rhysand waves his hand in disinterest but not objection. 

“There is to be a wedding, between my son and the newest resident of the Forest House. Join me in congratulations to Eris and Y/n” Beron lifts his glass of sparkling wine, as does the crowd. Y/n and Eris remain quiet and unmoving, no hint of elation at the announcement of their nuptials. 

Eris found the scheme to be laughable. Pretending to marry his heir to a human girl with no land or gold or title was absurd. But Beron played dirty, and he’d do anything to further his agenda.

Azriel’s siphons flared, reacting to his growing fury. He needed to calm down. There was a plan in place to get her out.

He needed to be patient and play his part.

taglist: @luvmoo @leeknows-wife