#A few years ago give or take. And also wrote a fic for.

[lady-shadow-and-darkness]

Hear me out :

Teen Dazai and Chuuya going around finding every single arcade in the entire city and always having the very top two high scores in most of the games to the point where every single teen who has ever lived in Yokohama and has gone to any arcade is like "I don't know who the fuck Mackerel and Slug are but they're annoying."

[touyasdoll]

Scream 2

this is a follow up to a fic I wrote last year for kinktober, but it’s not necessary to read that one before this one. it can stand alone <3

pairing: ghostface!Dabi x f!reader x ghostface!Hawks

warnings: DARK CONTENT, please be advised. CNC, dubcon, fear play, knife play, home invasion, threesome, double penetration in one hole, eiffel tower for lack of a better term, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), backshots, also Touya is 6'4 idc what the canon says, au where Hawks actually double crosses the HPSC bc a girl can dream, rough sex, not exactly hair pulling but hair grabbing, face sitting, thigh riding, size kink, dirty talk, biting, marking, overstimulation, mild degradation, praise, impact play (barely), nipple play, breeding, let me know if I missed any please <3

word count: 5.3k

notes: Happy Halloween! 👻🔪🖤

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Keigo asks as he narrows his golden irises at the white haired man before him on the rooftop. 

The sky is dark, especially in this part of the city. The few lights from the rundown buildings and buzzing street lamps provide the only meaningful illumination, as the moon is hidden behind a thick blanket of dark, heavy clouds that promise a storm is coming. 

“I’m sure. Don’t sweat it, feathers. Just stick to the plan and everything’ll be fine. Scout’s honor,” Touya replies, flashing a sardonic smile. 

“Your honor isn’t exactly worth much,” the hero scoffs. “But I guess I’ll have to take you at your word.”

Keigo’s dressed in his civilian clothes; an all black ensemble consisting of jeans, boots, and a well-fitting hoodie. He’d clearly heeded Touya’s instruction to dress for stealth, while the villain is still dressed in his stitched ensemble. 

“That’s a good little bird,” Touya says as he heads for the stairs. “Good luck. You might need it, hero.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, heaving an anxious sigh before he takes off into the cool night air.

You’re just getting ready to turn in for the night. It had been a successful Halloween. You and Touya were able to watch a few spooky movies and take turns passing out candy before he had to leave for whatever PLF business he’s up to tonight. 

He actually seemed to enjoy himself whenever it was his turn to answer the door. Maybe it was because he got a kick out of seeing the kids’ reactions to his Ghostface mask, but you have a feeling it was more about seeing your reaction to the mask. 

He hasn’t pulled it out since last Halloween, much to your disappointment. He just looks so good in it. You could even do without the theatrics. Just being able to ride him or get railed while he has that damn mask on would be enough.

You were hoping that he’d give you an encore tonight. He did use the code the two of you had established. You vividly remember him slowly lifting off the mask after closing the door on another round of trick-or-treaters and sauntering over to the couch with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“Hey, doll. What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’d asked, the question so full of promise, just as it had been last year. 

But it was well past midnight now. He’d said that he might be back late tonight, which is usually how it goes when he’s working. Maybe you two could have your fun on another night, you suppose as you retreat to your bedroom. 

You change into one of Touya’s t-shirts before you slip beneath the covers and just before you rest your head, your phone rings. Seeing that it’s your boyfriend, you pick it right up. 

“Hey, baby,” you greet him, sitting up against the headboard. 

Unfortunately, you don’t hear a word that he says. What you do hear is much more terrifying. A loud, sudden thud reverberates throughout the house and you swear it must be coming from your kitchen, but you were just in there hardly a minute ago. Surely, you’d notice someone creeping around your house, right?

Then again, you hadn’t noticed last year. Maybe he was keeping up the tradition after all. Trying to pull the wool over your eyes again to give you a scare. Well, not this year. You know better. 

“Sorry, baby. You were breaking up,” you say calmly as you slip out of bed and creep into the hall. “What did you say?”

You’d play along with his little game, but you know that you have no reason to be truly afraid. He’s probably hiding behind a corner somewhere, watching you as you pad about the house in nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear. The thought actually turns you on quite a bit. 

“I said I’m about to head home. Sorry things took so long, but I should be back soon. M’not far,” Touya says as he jingles his keys in his hand. 

“Okay. I was just about to turn in to bed, but I’ll wait up for you,” you say as you head into the kitchen to turn the light on. 

There’s a large duffel bag in the center of the floor and you can’t help but wonder what might be inside. Seems like he’s really trying to up the ante this time. Your insides start twisting with a heady mixture of both excitement and desire, but then you see a figure who seems too short to be your boyfriend step into the other entrance to the kitchen and your heart stops. 

“You don’t gotta wait up if you’re tired, doll,” Touya says on the other end of the phone, confirming that it’s definitely not him staring you down in that familiar Ghostface costume. 

“Babe,” you whisper, your voice trembling in fear as you take a step back and the masked intruder takes one with you. “S-someone’s in the house.”

“What?” Touya asks and you can hear the fear in his voice as well, which sends your blood pressure through the roof. “Doll, just stay hidden. I will be there as soon as I can. I’m on my way, okay? Where are you?”

“O-okay,” you respond meekly, your voice cracking as you continue to walk backwards. 

The intruder keeps at your pace, tilting his head to one side as he studies you. Your eyes are drawn to something glinting in the light as he reveals a blade from behind his robe. 

“Doll, where are you? Do they know you’re there?” Touya asks frantically as he fires up the car and takes off. 

You only faintly hear his voice and the tires skidding in the background of the call as you freeze up. Everything slows down for just a moment and then the adrenaline kicks in. 

You bolt for the front door, only to find that it’s locked from the outside somehow. You try again in vain to jiggle the handle, praying that maybe it’s just stuck, but it’s definitely fucking locked and that causes you to panic all over again. 

“Doll? Doll, answer me,” Touya yells loud enough for you to hear it even though you’ve since dropped your phone to your side. 

You don’t hear the stranger coming up behind you, but when you look over your shoulder, he’s right there. Close enough to kill you if he wanted. 

You scream in fright and drop the phone in your haste to bolt for the back door, but he jumps in your way. He’s on the smaller side, but he seems especially nimble. You aren’t sure you stand much of a chance getting away from him, but you have to try. 

You just have to last until Touya gets home. That’s what you keep telling yourself. A mantra that you repeat over and over in your mind as you scramble down the hall and into the first open door. 

The slam of the door knocks some sense back into you. You keep your hands pressed against it and take a look around the guest bedroom, eyeing the dresser nearby. It’s mostly empty and it’s not very big, but it’s better than nothing. 

A loud bang that sounds like a heavy fist thudding against the wood startles you and you let out a scream before you lurch towards the dresser to start sliding it across the floor. 

“Doll? Doll, where are you?” You hear Touya’s voice call out from down the hall. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. Do you come out? Touya’s more than capable, but you don’t know what this intruder is capable of. What’s his quirk? What if it’s deadly?

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you listen for sounds of a struggle, but your fear of something happening to your boyfriend wins out over your fear of something happening to you. 

“Babe?” You call as you burst out of the door, frantically scanning the dimly lit house as you creep down the hall once more. 

The kitchen lights have been turned off and it’s quiet. It’s silent. Eerily so. Just when you feel like you might have made a mistake, the stranger turns the corner from the kitchen and holds a voice changer up to his mouth. 

“Yes, doll?” He says, tilting his head in a mocking fashion as he slowly stalks closer to you. 

Your eyes go wide as you realize that you’d definitely fucked up and you attempt to retreat back to the relative safety of the guest room, but you hear footsteps right behind you. He’s moving too fast. He covers twice the distance that you’re able to and throws himself across the doorway before lifting the device to his concealed mouth again. 

“Fooled ya,” he says in the familiar, raspy distorted voice of Ghostface. 

Tears well in your eyes as you turn tail and run straight for the backdoor. You aren’t thinking, just moving. Hurtling towards freedom, which you are hoping against hope you are able to find, but all hope is lost when you suddenly collide with another figure in the kitchen. 

You slam into their firm chest and tilt your head back to look up at the imposing new intruder, who is also dressed as the masked fictional killer.

“Fuck,” you mutter, gaping up at the taller of the two in horror as you turn on your heel, only to find the other one right behind you. 

Both of them begin closing in, sauntering towards you silently. All that you can hear is the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears as you back yourself up to the island. The shorter stranger looks between you and his companion in crime, who nods in response as your heart sinks into your stomach. 

“Please. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper, shrinking against the cool marble countertop. 

The shorter of the two lifts the voice changer to his lips and uses his other hand to brandish the knife once more, using the blade to lift the hem of your shirt and press the flat of the cold steel blade to your stomach.

“We’re not gonna hurt you, gorgeous. We just wanna play,” he says as he leans in closer. 

“I thought you liked playin’ like this, doll?” The taller one asks as he tilts his head to one side. 

You whip your head towards him, because you could swear that’s your boyfriend’s voice, but you’ve already been tricked once tonight. He flashes his palms, revealing no voice changer in his hand. No knife either. He snaps his fingers together and a brilliant blue flame burns away the glove concealing his hand to reveal familiar scars and staples. 

“T-Touya?” You ask shakily, blinking in surprise. “Then who the fuck is..?”

Your heart rate finally starts to slow as you trail off and shake your head, looking at the other Ghostface in confusion. You reach out to rip the mask off and are stunned to find Keigo’s wilder than usual blonde hair and disarming golden gaze beneath the disguise. 

“Happy Halloween, doll,” Touya purrs as you stare at Keigo’s handsome smirk. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you say quietly, not wanting to assume that what you sincerely hope might happen is actually about to happen. 

“Sure ya do,” Touya continues, his large hands finding your hips to draw you closer and bring your back flush against his chest, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as Keigo sets the knife down on the counter without taking his hungry eyes off of you. “You remember us having this conversation, don’t you?”

Your brow furrows and you look away from the hero as you try to remember just what in the fuck Touya is on about when you recall him prompting you with an unusual question a few months ago.

You were sitting on the couch, curled up watching a movie. Sleep was beginning to tug at you, trying to beckon you to bed, but you were stubborn and insisted on staying up to see the end of the film, even though Touya was making it that much more difficult by rubbing his unnaturally warm hands along your back. 

“Say, if we were ever to have a threesome with one of our friends, who would you want it to be with?” He’d asked you seemingly out of the blue, but unknown to you, he’d been ruminating on how to top his Halloween escapade for some time already. 

“Hmm?” You ask as you tilt your head back to look at him and shrug. “I don’t know. You don’t exactly have a whole lot of friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I’d consider that a compliment,” he says, shrugging. “But seriously. Well, hypothetically, I guess. If ya had to pick one, who would it be? There’s plenty of hot people in the PLF.”

You hum curiously, taking a moment to think it over as you tuck your face back into his chest and nuzzle into him. 

“Keigo. He’s hot and I’d trust him,” you reply bluntly, a yawn escaping you a moment later. 

“Good choice. You’re right on both counts,” he murmurs, a plan already coming together in his mind. “That could be fun.”

“I didn’t think.. I mean–I–,” you balk, looking between them in disbelief. 

“I wasn’t bein’ hypothetical, gorgeous,” Touya says as he spins you around to catch your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head back so that his blue eyes can bore into you while Keigo switches on the kitchen light. “So whaddya say?”

“We’re gonna need a clear answer before the real fun can begin,” Keigo says sensually as he steps close enough that you can feel his body heat behind you. 

“Yes,” you eek out, nodding your head as you try to wrap your brain around this unexpected turn of events. 

The bastard had gotten one over on you again after all, but it’s not like you can even stay mad about it, considering what’s in store for you.

“I hope you’re hydrated, doll,” Touya chuckles, fisting a hand into your hair to carefully tug your hair back and kiss you like his life depends on it. 

He sighs through his nose, groaning against your lips as his hand drops to your ass. He gives it a firm squeeze as he shifts his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he is already. 

Keigo steps closer to press his toned chest against your back and tilts his head to start kissing along your neck as he grabs your waist and grinds against you from behind, revealing that he’s also sporting a raging hard on. 

You moan, working your tongue and your mouth against Touya as your hands explore his chest, searching for an opening in the black robe he’s wearing. 

“You wanna just cut to the chase already, doll?” The villain smirks, lighting his palm for just a second to reduce your scant clothing to ash. “I think we’ve been through enough foreplay and I’ve been waiting too damn long for this.”

He does the same to his clothing, pressing a hand to his chest and the other to Keigo’s. You feel another brief flash of tolerable heat before you’re hyper aware of the feeling of both of their bare bodies writhing against your own. 

“Oh fuck,” you sigh, tilting your head to one side as Keigo begins nipping at your sensitive pulse point, laving his tongue over it to soothe the subtle ache. 

You reach a hand back to work it into his hair and tug gently as you arch your back, grinding your ass against his stiff cock, which coaxes a gorgeous moan from him. You slip a hand between you and Touya as he captures your mouth again. Your fingers wrap around his length to guide the bead of precum along his shaft, drawing out a beautiful noise from him as well. 

Both of them suddenly pull away and you’re afraid that you’ve done something wrong until Keigo steps in front of you to grab your hips and effortlessly lift you up onto the kitchen island. 

“I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a long, long time,” he says, smirking as he leans in to kiss you and parts your legs. 

Touya stands back, stroking himself as he watches Keigo crouch down between your thighs. The blonde keeps his eyes on yours as he trails kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, slowly and steadily working his way up to your glistening pussy. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs as he sets his sights between your legs as dives in, his tongue parting your folds before it spears inde of you. 

He certainly knows what he’s doing and it immediately drives you crazy. You keep yourself supported and sitting upright with one hand, so that you can watch him feast on your pussy while you keep a hand in his hair. He alternates between bathing you with his tongue and sucking on your clit with just the right amount of pressure, drawing moans and whimpers from you with ease. 

You look up to seek validation from Touya, almost feeling guilty for enjoying yourself so much, but he seems to be just as into it as you are. He nods, grinning wickedly as he comes closer. 

“You enjoyin’ yourself, doll?” He asks as he stops stroking himself to instead reach beneath Hawks’ chin and slip two fingers inside of you. 

“Y-yes!” You gasp, your eyes crossing as your head tips back. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“I know, gorgeous,” he purrs and you can hear the smug smirk on his face. “Go ahead and cum all over my friend’s face. He’s dying to taste it.”

His words send you over the edge and you cry out, sending your release gushing into Keigo’s mouth as your hips gyrate on top of the counter. The hero wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you still as he continues ravaging you with his tongue. He noisily cleans up your arousal, sending you into overdrive as you whine and beg for him to show you mercy when it just gets to be too much. 

He eventually lets you catch your breath, but when he stands up to wipe his chin, the look on Touya’s face tells you that you in for much worse if you thought that was too much. 

“S’my turn to taste that sweet pussy, gorgeous. C’mere,” he says, nodding towards the hall as he scoops you up off the counter. At least he doesnt expect you to walk after that. 

He carries you into the bedroom and switches the light on before he lays you down on the bed and lumbers over you. 

“First things first, clean up the mess you made,” Touya practically coos as he offers his slick fingers to you. 

You hold his gaze as you slowly take the digits into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them and moaning quietly when you taste yourself on his skin. 

“Good girl,” Hawks praises you as he crawls onto the bed and Touya repositions, laying flat on his back. 

“You know my favorite number, doll,” he says as he delivers a swift smack to your behind, just enough to make you jump a little. “Assume the position.”

You look between him and Keigo curiously and do as you're told, straddling Touya’s face to wrap your hand around his cock and begin stroking, but before you can take a seat, he tuts his tongue. 

“I want your mouth on him, baby,” Touya says before he hooks his arms around you and forces you to sit. 

His mouth starts working wonders between your legs and you think you might just cum in record time after what Hawks had done to you, but then you remember that your mouth is needed elsewhere than just filling up the sticky air with filthy noises. 

You shift forward as Keigo comes closer, his swollen cock bobbing in front of your face. You lift your eyes to his and take great pleasure in watching the watch his head dips back and his Adam’s apple bobs when you take him into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep still as he lets you slowly bob along his length until you’re comfortably taking him in and out of his mouth while working your hand along his shaft. 

You keep your other hand wrapped around Touya’s cock, focusing on trying to please both of them while feeling like your brain is going to break thanks to what Touya’s doing beneath you. The moans that you drive from him send vibrations straight into your pussy that only drive you closer to the edge. 

You hold on for as long as you can, but it soon becomes to much again and you pull your mouth and hands away from both of them to sit up and support yourself with your hands on Touya’s thighs, gripping them tight. 

“C-can’t,” you practically sob, squeezing your eyes tight as you hang your head. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, you can,” Keigo coos as he reaches out to cup your breasts, massaging them with care before he starts tweaking your nipples, which sends you cascading into oblivion for the second time tonight. 

You nearly collapse, slumping forward as you’re overcome with pleasure, but Keigo catches you, loosely holding you in his arms as he rubs his hand along your back, which only heightens the sensations you’re feeling. 

You whimper in his ear and he presses a kiss to the side of your head as he and Touya gently ease you off of the latter, so that Touya can sit up. 

“You’re doin’ so well, beautiful,” Hawks croons, peppering kisses along your jaw until he finds your lips. 

“Mm,” is the only response you can muster at the moment as you slowly come down from your high. 

“So well,” Touya praises, moving behind you to rest his hands on your hips as he kisses along your shoulder. “Such a good girl. Can you keep bein’ a good girl for us, gorgeous? If we give you what you really want? Hmm?”

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, nodding your head as your eyes fall closed. “I’ll keep bein’ good. I’ll be so good.”

“That’s our girl,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck before he places a chaste kiss to it. 

Keigo moves aside and then Touya presses a hand to your back, keeping the other firmly planted on your hip as he forces you onto all fours. He groans as he grinds himself against you, his cock gliding through your folds, nearly penetrating where you need him the most. 

“Please,” you whine softly, shaking your ass as you drop your hips back against him. 

“Since you asked so nice,” he purrs, smirking as he slips inside of you, letting you feel him enter you inch by glorious inch, his piercings sliding against your walls and making your eyes roll back. 

Keigo starts stroking himself as he watches Touya set a steady rhythm, fucking you just hard enough to make you gasp now and then as you fist your hands into the sheets and meet him thrust for thrust. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, mixing with the euphoric noises pouting from each and every one of you.

“Just gotta stretch you out a bit, gorgeous,” Touya pants, draping himself over you as he slows his pace. He reaches a hand around ti gently guide your face towards Keigo, who’s abs are drawn taut as he continues stroking himself, his eyes now fixed on your face. “You think you can take both of us? He’s not exactly small either, but I believe in you, doll.”

Your eyes widen, but you find yourself nodding. You aren’t sure if you can do it, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try. 

“I want to,” you breathe out, nodding as you reach out towards Keigo to take over stroking his cock, tugging very gently to guide him closer as you smirk up at him. “We should get you nice and lubed up though, yeah?”

His eyebrows raise and he looks extremely pleased as he nods and cradles your head in the back of your hand as Touya straightens up. 

“So fucking good,” Touya marvels through grit teeth as he picks up the pace again. 

He lets you adjust to having Keigo in your mouth, but he starts pushing your further, driving into your hard enough to make you deep throat the hero, which makes both of them groan sinfully as they watch you swallow their cocks at either end. 

“Fuck,” Keigo sighs as he suddenly backs away. “Anymore of that and I’m gonna be done way too soon.”

“Let’s see if you’re ready then, doll,” Touya says, smirking as he pulls out and kneads the fat of your ass before giving it a light smack. “Lay down, Kei. You should her pussy for yourself first.”

Hawks lays on his back and Touya cups your cheek to guide your face towards his one, giving you a passionate kiss before he lets you go and nods towards the blonde. 

“Give him the ride of his life,” he says as he wraps his hand around his own cock. 

You climb on top of Keigo, leaning in to give him a kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth, teasingly tracing it around the entrance of his mouth as you wrap your hand around his length. You suddenly sink down and he lets out a choked groan as he seizes your hips. 

You rest your hands on his chest, smirking with satisfaction as you start riding him, moving your hips slowly at first as your walls clench around him, hugging his cock tight. 

“You feel so good, Kei,” you say breathily. 

His eyes widen and for a moment, he feels like he might just cum and pass out right there. He lets you set the pace, watching you intently as you bounce up and down on his length. His hands glide over your body, exploring every inch of you that he can reach before they settle on your breasts. He massages them as gently as he had earlier before tweaking your nipples. 

He seems to get a better idea as he sits up and wraps his arms around you, grabbing your ass to start guiding your hips more forcefully while he takes your nipple into his mouth to suck. He expertly moves his tongue across the sensitive bud, flicking and swirling it around as he applies more pressure to your hips and encourages you to quicken your pace. 

“Just like that, doll,” Touya pants, struggling to stave of his own end as he senses yours coming. 

“Keigo,” you whimper, grasping onto his shoulders as you squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back, your hips bucking as you come undone again. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans loudly, panting for breath as he continues fucking you through your end while fighting off his own. 

Touya pulls his hand away from his cock to take a few deep breaths, watching you contort with pleasure until you’re through the worst of it. He moves behind you and kisses along your shoulder again, sending delicious shivers down your spine. 

“You sure you wanna do this, doll?” He asks quietly, his tone sincere. 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, nodding weakly nodding your head. 

“You don’t have to do any of the work this time, baby,” Keigo says as he runs his hands along yours arms and lays flat on his back. “Just let us make you feel good.”

You nod again and Touya rests a hand on your back to gently guide your forward so that you’re laying on top of Keigo before he situates himself behind you. 

“I’ll go slow,” he assures you as he first works one finger inside of you. Then another. 

You and Keigo both moan quietly, your shallow breaths mingling with one another’s as he drags his fingertips along your back. Touya starts slowly thrusting his fingers and Keigo slowly shifts his hips, working you open further as you rest your head on the blonde’s chest and submit to it. Once he’s confident that you’re able to take both of them, Touya slowly guides the head of his cock inside of you. 

“Shit,” he groans, continuing to gently bully himself inside. “It’s so fucking tight. So fucking good. You feel that, Kei?”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Hawks sighs, holding perfectly still as his face twists with pleasure. “It’s so fucking good.”

You press your nails into Keigo’s biceps as you feel the two of them stretching you open and filling you up in a way that you never thought possible. They’re right. It is so. Fucking. Good. 

“Fuck me,” you beg quietly once Touya’s seated inside of you. “Please fuck me. Wanna feel both of you.”

“You’re gonna, baby,” Touya croons as he slowly draws his hips back and pushes inside of you again. 

The sensation is glorious. It’s mind numbing. It’s like the best drug you’ve ever felt and you know that you need more of it. 

He holds onto your hips and Keigo seizes your waist as they both begin to move in tandem, slowly at first, but working their way to a pace that has you at a loss for words. You couldn’t find any if you tried. None of you can apparently. 

The only noises to be heard are your bodies all grinding against each other. The lewd squelching of fluids between your forms as you trade sinful noises and panting breaths back and forth. Eventually, you do find one phrase, but just one. 

“Cum inside me, please. Please,” you whine, your voice pitching higher as you feel another orgasm building, this one threatening to tear you apart in the best way. “Cum i-inside.”

“We’re gonna breed you so fuckin’ good, doll,” Touya promises without missing a beat. “I promise.”

They seem to have mastered their movements. Together, the two of them drive you steadily towards your end whilst chasing their own. You snap first, of course, howling with pleasure as your writhe on top of them, your walls contracting impossibly tight around both of their cocks. 

Keigo cradles your head and kisses the top of it, whispering praises and Touya hunches forward to do the same, speaking them right into your ear as both of them keep driving themselves inside of you with unparalleled need. 

Keigo finishes next, his eyes snapping shut as he lets out a long, loud moan, his rhythm stuttering just as Touya finds his end. His head snaps up as he leans back and grips your hips with bruising force, delivering a few more good thrusts while letting out a primal groan before his thrusts become sloppy and begin to taper off as he lays himself across your back again. 

The three of you are left a sweaty, blissful mess on the bed. You’re so wonderfully full. So much so that you’re leaking all over both of them, but neither of them seem to care and neither do you. It’s as if the world has stopped for a minute and you’re all floating outside of time and space, suspended in this moment.

“So good for us,” Touya finally murmurs after who knows how long. He gently grabs your chin to guide your face towards his once more, a lazy smile on his lips as he captures yours in a decidedly sweet kiss. “Happy Halloween, doll.”

thank you for reading! I hope you have/had a safe & happy halloween!

[laughing-with-god]

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

-----

He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

[marauder-misprint]

I LOVED the ”You were important” fic that you wrote and I know that that it was only published a couple hours ago but I NEED to know if there is going to be a part 2

And if there isn’t then I’m begging you for one were reader maybe goes out with Sirius and his friends for the first time or something. Please I’m desperate 😭😩❤️

I can practically guarantee you this isn't as good as 'You Were Important' but it is what it is! and honestly, I think everyone but Sirius is nervous/unsure about the Hogsmeade visit.

Also, receiving this request literally a few hours after posting made my day ♥︎

Hogsmeade

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2.7k words

cw: one use of y/n, fluff, swearing 

To say that Sirius’ friends were hesitant about you was the understatement of the century. They knew you had a big part in helping Sirius slowly reconnect with Regulus and they knew you were childhood friends. But to be dating? That was a step beyond their comprehension.

“So she yells at you, you have some miraculous conversation and now you’re dating?” Peter asked incredulously. “I’m sorry, mate. I don’t see it.”

“You went from not speaking for years to dating pretty quickly,” James added. 

“There’s a lot about her that you don’t know,” Sirius said.

“When you apologized to her last term, did you actually beg?” Remus mused, already knowing the answer but trying to help Peter and James along. 

“Yes.”

James choked on his pumpkin juice. “You begged? Like on your knees, begging?”

“In the library. You can ask Reg if you don’t believe me. He walked in on it.”

“How come none of us got to witness that?” James asked with a pout. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Remus said.

“Because you didn’t need to be there. It’s hard enough putting my dignity on the line, I didn’t need you lot witnessing it.”

“Okay so if you were on your knees for her,” Peter paused to give the group a suggestive look, “then maybe it’s more believable that she likes your sorry arse.”

“I don’t know why I need to convince you that we’re actually dating… But I did write to her all of break.”

“I thought you were writing Regulus?” James asked.

“Is there a limit on how many people I can write? I wrote to them both.”

“What’s so special about her anyways?” Peter asks, stabbing his fork into the fruit on his plate. “Besides the insane ability of forgiveness.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “At the risk of being called a sap, I’ll keep it brief. She’s perfect. Perfectly flawed. Knows how to handle the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. What else do I need?” 

“Handling you and your brother is certainly a special quality,” Remus snorted.

“So was there like something hot about her when she exploded last term?” James asked. “Because I think we were all a little scared of a random ass Slytherin being furious at you.”

“Oh shut it.”

“And we are taking that as a yes,” Peter confirmed with a nod. 

“I’ll give you something you can take, Wormtail,” Sirius warned. 

“Calm down, Pads,” Remus said. “Let us get used to Y/N and the effects she has on you. It’s new to us. Since you kept us in the dark ‘bout her for six years.”

“That number is going to be the death of me…”

Your friends, minus Regulus, were just as confused.

“You know, when we asked if there was something going on between you and Black, we meant Regulus,” Dorcas said. 

“And the only thing going on between me and Reg is friendship.”

“But you and Sirius? You’re serious?” Pandora asked.

“Yes, Dory, I’m dating Sirius.” 

“But why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You’ve never once mentioned liking him. Before last term, you never mentioned him as anything other than Reg’s brother.” 

“Because he said we weren’t friends. Keep up. Pretty sure I told you this.”

“You did. Six years radio silence to dating is a jump, sweetheart.”

“He’s taken big steps since we reconnected.”

“Maybe so. I’m just saying, you are the queen of forgiveness.”

“He knows he’s walking a thin line,” Regulus said, deciding to join the conversation.

“You! You’re okay with this?”

“I encouraged they get close again,” he said. “Did they get closer than I intended? Maybe. But once you get over the initial shock, it makes sense.”

“How so?”

He looked from Dorcas to you and back again. “They practically grew up together. And then when he fucked up, she went and befriended me. There’s something about being a Black that attracts her.”

“It’s the trauma,” you said with a teasing lilt in your voice.

“If that was the case, you’d be dating me.”

“I’m afraid you’ve solidified your place as absolute bestie for the restie a while ago.”

Regulus stared at you for what felt like an entire minute.

“Whatever the fuck that means…”

---

Sirius approaches you after class, as he usually did. You took your time putting your things into your bag while he would shove everything into his own as fast as he could. 

“You doing anything Saturday?” he asks, resting his hip against your desk. 

“Sleep in? Maybe Hogsmeade with the girls if they wait up for me.”

“What if you ditch the girls and come with us?”

“Us? As in the Marauders?”

He nods. 

“Am I ready for a proper introduction to them?”

After you throw your bag over your shoulder, Sirius places his arm around your waist and guides you to the door. 

“I think so. It’s about time, don’t you think?”

“I guess… Do they know you’re inviting me?”

“No.”

“What will they think? I haven’t talked to any of them since I yelled at you.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, love. I’ve talked to them about you. Plus, once they get to know you, they’ll love you. I know I do.”

You snort. “Yeah? You love me?”

He looks down at you with a crooked smile. Neither of you had the exact words “I love you” but you hadn’t been dating all that long. It still hung in the air between you though. If you had to talk about it with anyone, you would say when you know, you know. Having Sirius back in your life was like being able to breathe again after having your head held underwater. 

Instead of responding verbally, Sirius places a kiss on your cheek. It makes you giggle. He knew it would. He knows he loves you. It hit him as hard as it had hit him that he missed you during those six years. You had a way of making him feel seen that even having the eyes of the entire Hogwarts castle couldn’t raise a candle to. You saw him and he loved you for it. 

“So, Hogsmeade? Yes, no, you’d rather snog me in the Gryffindor Common Room…” His voice trails off as he looks down at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you tease.

“You’ll come to Hogsmeade, then? Yeah?”

You sigh. You know it’s inevitable. You have to meet and hang out with his friends at some point. You couldn’t avoid them forever, as appealing as that sounds, if you want this to work with Sirius. 

“Yes, I’ll do Hogsmeade. But you’re paying for my butterbeers.”

He laughs. “As if I wouldn’t do that anyways.”

---

You get up far too early for your liking on Saturday. Sirius insists that you will be spending all day with the boys in Hogsmeade and he’s fairly certain that by the end of the night, you will be telling him you wished the day had lasted longer. You’re not as sure of that as he is, but you’re willing to humor him. It would be good to get to know his friends, at least a little bit. 

You feel awkward as you head to the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall rather than Slytherin. At least you didn’t have to deal with teasing from Pandora and Dorcas this morning; they were still tucked into bed, where you’d much rather be. Still, you feel eyes on you. 

“Good morning, lovely!” Sirius chirps as soon as he spots you within earshot. 

You give him a nervous smile. The full of Marauder nonsense was weighing on any optimism you might’ve had. You take the spot next to Sirius, obviously saved for you. The other boys are quiet, although you don’t blame them. 

“Morning everyone,” you say. 

They mumble responses. Remus looks half asleep as he sips his morning tea, Peter is zoned out as he stares at his plate, and James is shoveling eggs into his mouth. You assume he would’ve given you a better response if his mouth hadn’t been full. 

“Whose idea was it to go so early?” Remus mumbles, putting his cup down and giving you a polite smile.

You look from boy to boy before laying eyes on Sirius.

“You. You did this,” you say accusingly, pointing your finger at him.

“Maybe.”

You forcefully rest your forehead on his shoulder with a groan. 

“I thought you weren’t a morning person.”

“He’s not,” Remus answers for him with a knowing look in his eyes that you don’t see. 

“Sorry that I’m excited,” Sirius says. “Just the first time all my favorite people are going to be together.”

“Second,” Peter says, barely loud enough to be heard. 

“Second?” Sirius repeats. 

“He’s, uh, counting the yelling, I think,” James says after swallowing. “You know, last term.”

You lift your head from Sirius’ shoulder and you know your face is red. The yelling. 

“I promise I don’t yell all the time,” you say softly. 

They all laugh in one way or another. Sirius has his full body laugh while Remus has more of a chuckle. You swear you see Peter clench his jaw as James barks out a short laugh. You’re certain this is going to be a long, painfully awkward and embarrassing day. Sirius starts putting food on the plate in front of you and nudges the cup closer to you.

“Eat up.”

“I can make my own plate,” you tell him firmly.

“But you weren’t.”

You roll your eyes but start to eat the food he’s grabbed for you. The boys are mostly quiet while you eat. Sirius forces some conversation. He’s adamant that something will spark. He just needs someone to bite, someone to start talking besides him, and then conversation will flow more easily. It had to. 

It does, finally, as you leave the Great Hall and begin the short trek to Hogsmeade. The boys discuss everywhere they need to go today. 

“You’re not going to make us get lunch at Puddifoot’s or anything, right?” Peter asks tentatively, as if already hating your answer.

You laugh loudly, making the boys in front of you look over their shoulders.

“Godric, no!” Their faces relax. “Not every girl loves lace and all that frill.”

“Oh, I had just assumed…” Peter’s voice trails off. 

“Doesn’t everyone know the saying?” you ask.

“What saying?” James asks.

“When you assume, you make ass of you and me.”

You walk up and throw an arm around Peter. 

You hiss in his ear, “Don’t go making an ass of me. I don’t care what you make of yourself.”

Peter blushes furiously as you remove your arm and laugh. 

“I fully assumed we be spending time in Honeydukes and Zonko’s and maybe Pippin’s or something before finishing the day at the Broomsticks. Is that not normal?” you ask, walking backwards at the front of the group. 

Sirius was beaming at you, clearly enjoying how suddenly comfortable you became. Apparently you just needed someone to get the wrong read on you. Then you point at James.

“Spintwitches? Regulus was talking about this new broom-”

“Polish? They got in the new broom polish?” 

You nod and James picks up his pace, easily passing you so you turn around to walk normally.

“Well, come on, you lot!” he calls. “I need some before they run out!”

“I highly doubt that they are going to run out, Prongs!” Sirius yells at him as he resumes his spot at your side. “Now is this so bad,” he whispers to you.

You roll your eyes but give him a wide smile. Maybe his friends weren’t so bad. They just had to see you as something other than a pathetic girl or the angry girl who nearly screamed at Sirius about his brother. 

You were right about their plans for the day, though. After Spintwitches, the group heads to Honeydukes to restock on sweets that you would have to carry around all day. Next was Zonko’s. The boys flitted around the shot like hummingbirds, never looking at a stand for too long but practically guaranteed to return. When the shopkeeper told them their total, you choked on the licorice wand you were snacking on. The boys give you a strange look while Sirius hits your back and makes sure you’re okay.

“Dear Merlin, do you always spend that much in there?” you ask as you exit the store and head to the main square. 

“Yes?” James answers. “Is it a lot?”

You snort a laugh.

“Prongs, you know it is. There’s a reason you and Padfoot pick up the bill every time,” Remus says with his own laugh. 

“Oh! If you boys don’t mind, can we stop at the quill shop?” you ask.

“Quill shop and then Three Broomsticks? Sounds good to me,” Sirius says, answering for the whole group.

The rest of the boys wait outside while Sirius follows you into the shop. He doesn’t say anything as you browse. He follows you like a lovesick puppy, which is what the boys are calling him in their conversation outside the shop. Not that he would’ve minded it anyways. Sirius was happy. He had it all in that moment: a girl who loved him, friends who would die for him, and a family in the Potters. He couldn’t think of anything else he needed in this moment. 

After you made your purchase of a new quill and inkwell, you and the boys made your way to the Three Broomsticks. As expected, it’s packed, but that doesn’t stop you from being able to find a table big enough to fit all of you. You feel at ease as you drink butterbeers with the boys and snack on the crisps James ordered for the table. There are jokes you don’t quite understand and snide comments you don’t quite agree with, but overall, it’s good. You know you’re new to the group and it will be easier the longer you’re around. It helps that Sirius is next to you, giving you the occasional touch and kiss. And the occasional knowing look when the boys say something that would elicit a remark from you but you’re not in the place to say anything yet. 

You wave to your friends when they make their way into the pub. They gather at a table at the other end of the room.

“You can go say hi, you know,” Remus says, noticing who you’re waving to. “We’re not holding you hostage.”

“You’re not, but they might,” you say as you make eye contact with Barty and he makes kissy faces at you. “They can get my recap of my day later.”

“Oooh, what are you going to tell them about us?” Peter asks, tossing a crisp at James who catches it in his mouth.

“You spend way too much at Zonko’s, but you weren’t as bad as I was expected.”

“Wait! Wait, wait,” James says, holding up his hands to pause the conversation. “What do you mean too much at Zonko’s?”

“How bad were you expecting?” Remus asks before you can answer. 

“Potter, you know damn well what I mean. I can excuse the Honeydukes spending because, well, I’m just as bad. But Salazar, so many galleons wasted! And for what? A prank?”

“A prank that will bring joy for weeks,” Sirius says, giving you a playful nudge.

You roll your eyes.

“How bad were you expecting today to go?” Remus asks again. 

“Horrendously.”

Sirius gasps and leans away from you.

“Wait, really?”

You nod.

“We’re not… that bad, are we?” James asks. 

“Spending a full day with people I’ve barely interacted with in the six years we’ve been classmates? With our main interaction being… the yelling?” you ask incredulously.

Your point is made.

“To be honest, we… I was nervous ‘bout this too,” Peter says. “You’re scary when you’re pissed.”

“Good.”

“Good?” Remus asks with a smirk; he knows why it’s good.

“Means you are less likely to cross me.”

“And there’s the Slytherin,” James laughs before throwing back his butterbeer.

“What, being my girlfriend doesn’t make them less likely to cross you?” Sirius asks.

“While I’m sure that is reason,” you start, “I’d rather be scary. There’s more people to keep in line than your boys.”

“Like your boys,” Remus says. He’s looking at Evan and Barty.

“Oh, they are easy to keep in line,” you muse. “They are more reward-based. Threats don’t work on them.”

“Oh?” 

“Oh,” you say, not elaborating. 

“So, another round, yeah?” Sirius asks, waving down Rosmerta. 

[cirqosmos]

Did I, A Side Character Became the Male Lead's Wife?!

2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT | YANG JUNGWON × READER | -> PART 2

SUMMARY you — a side character in a royal novel doing absolutely nothing but enjoy your rich ass yet boring life, only watching over the female lead and doing your job in protecting her, only for a pair of kittenish eyes to fall not upon the female lead but on you, unfortunately.

AUTHOR'S NOTE not me writing a whole ass oneshot at 5am bcs of that sweet ask from that one anon, imma name u serotonin dopamine anon lmao- and jungwon bae u r truly my muse.. also inspired by sum manhwas cuz I binge read 90+ chapters in less than a day 💀💀💀 plus happy 900+ followers for me <333 mom wake up I'm famous even tho I'll never let u know what my secret writing blog is about 😊😊

a side character, how cute?

well, you only came to know of this very horrible (not really) fact that you're nothing close to a main character's vibes cause look at you babe, where's the sparkling shiny starry dust on you as you walked through the red carpet at the ball?

and did they even spare a glance at you? unfortunately, nope. because the female lead, Liz; was your enemy, at least in how your character was written in the novel by the goddamn author which was you.

yes, that's right!

you, a hella introverted author dwelling in the deepest corner of her room doing nothing but spent an ungodly amount of hours creating the perfect and enchanting characters after crying for major character death of a fic a few years ago. wiping your dripping tears off your cheeks in a comical way as you pull open your laptop and risk your 20/20 vision for life, just so you can reverse the aching pain in your chest that you wore a thick ass glasses now.

Liz, the female lead. Swooning over her was your religion, throwing not one but a ten whole buckets explaining how perfect she was—or how tremendously kind she was, delicate and utterly sweet. patting yourself on the back for creating such a goddess of a character, so it's only wise for you to give her a fitting male lead, right? Okay we'll talk about that later since it's about you right now.

So how did you end up in your novel? Well, because of one fateful day of you doing absolutely nothing but taking a goddamn rest, and whoever the god in heaven that just randomly decided to throw you in the novel you wrote yourself—must be utterly insane. Perfect indeed!

it took you a humongous realisation to see yourself in a dark green puffy dress that represents jealousy, envy, and betrayal—which also represents the side character standing behind the female lead on the thick cover of your book. you've originally written her as that wicked best friend that uses her seductive way of speech to seduce men, and at last turning her back at the female lead by accusing her of a horrendous crime.

her fatal fate consists of her head being snapped by the guillotine, unfortunately. but for you, not really, cause you are so in for destroying wicked characters but jokes on you—you're now in the body of that character.

pfft, can't the gods put you in a character that lives near the sea, with your straw hat on and as you drank your lemon juice away from the public drama, angsty dialogues, cringe moments you yourself have created because you don't have atleast an ounce of social skills that's why you pour it all on your characters.

"oh my apologies, milady— pfft—" three ladies sticking with each other like a super glue, had thrown the glass of wine on the female lead's gown—earning a series of gasps from everyone who saw but you were sure won't pay an ounce of consideration towards her as you had written almost everyone in this novel as "the world against the weak, fragile character."

oh, right. the hyena laughters of those you describe in episode 3 of "the flashy ball"; the three evil sisters, because why not? they added the extra spices in your tongue to the point you couldn't wait for them to get slap by the female lead or possibly someone.

ah, the tremendous satisfaction.

and you were one of that person whose hands itching to smash their skull apart, you cringed enormously at them as they were the ones that brought total trouble wherever they went or whoever are unlucky enough to get in their way. unfortunately, you seal your female lead's fate with them as she need some little obstacles, doesn't she?

you as hell were not sure what you're supposed to do, whether to just let things happen as the story goes or you do the male lead's job in protecting the female lead cause you have no idea why is he taking such a long time to appear, when he should've made his grand entrance at the freaking introduction?

and you wrote it that way cause you got fed up with male leads making their first appearance at the ball, and somehow quickly gaining the female lead's heart like Cinderella cause dear lord where's the slow burn?

just say, you're a conservative grandma type of a mindset or that you are skeptical over love at first sight. yep, you're right. that's why you ain't gonna let your precious female lead get bullied in front of your very eyes. she's like your granddaughter right now, seriously.

a shriek echoed through the entire ball, gaining everyone's attention. "oh my god! my dress! you— lady Liz! who did you even brought with you?!"

oh right, you forgot it's your first time at the ball either. "my apologies, milady. it's just that i saw a bunch of hyenas roaming around.." you rubbed the back of your neck.

"hyenas?! guards—"

"chill, what's the commotion here?" a bright dashing blonde haired man in a red royal suit came around, with sets of stars dusting upon his form which you already realise to be part of the main characters but unfortunately you forgot. you ain't having that extra superhuman memory just because you are an author.

the bunch of hyenas before you reasoned with the prince, but you slowly realise that the prince was none other than Prince Jake. Inspired by that one puppy image idol from fourth generation of kpop, you were apparently slurping your noodles in the local restaurant when you watched him imitating a dog from the tv, causing you to choke on your noodles.

it's safe to say, he's hot enough that he had to be part of your main characters. aah, that signature dashing smile of his as he defended the female lead with his wisely chosen string of words which immediately melted everyone's heart at sight.

times like this you wish you were actually the female lead, but the logical side of you beg to differ; you are not emotionally capable of spewing cringy romantic words for that's only reserved for writing. So thank you, i'll pass.

Surely, Prince Jake ain't the male lead for your precious female lead but you just let them converse with each other despite her with her absolute kindness, urging you to talk with them too, atleast a word. it sort of felt for a moment like she was trying to match you with the prince.

like no please, you'd rather not to. hot guys are hot, but they're not worth the emotional investment past the fangirling section.

plus the prince doesn't seem interested you as he doesn't spare not even one look at you which obviously you couldn't care any less, you sneakily went out the ball after a series of mishaps—for example your heavy puffy ass gown with its sole purpose to only look pretty but the reality ain't that pretty to say the least, panting like a dog as you took each step towards the entrance all while cussing yourself for ignoring your logical part of brain that you shouldn't have been adding humongous useless words to describe the gown just to make it sound extremely pleasing to the readers.

now you're the one to bear the consequences of your own writing, the fuck.

"one! two!—" a long, long, depressing sigh echoes. "three! ah!—" consequently falling upon your face, what a perfect day indeed. you just wanted to go home, tuck yourself in your comforting blanket, eat your hot cup of ramen or indulge yourself in the sea of chocolate while daydreaming of your favourite idols and fictional characters.

not this awful disaster of you getting tangled in the courts' affairs.

"i suppose, you need help, milady?"

oh no, certainly not. don't call me milady, pretend i do not exist for i certainly do not have the social skills to pretend that i like you, or form a decent conversation especially with men.

"milady?"

you curled yourself, burying your head into the comfort of your gowns. wondering quite a bit of how odd you look in the middle of the hallway.

"milady?" his voice-like whisper came closer, obviously standing beside you right now. "are you okay?"

fuck it. "please, i beg of you to kindly leave me alone as my day has been utterly ruined and—" oh wait, he seems oddly familiar. those lush fluffy hair and kittenish orbs that only softens among those he were close enough.

prince jungwon.

oh! the male lead, oh my god! your jaw hang so low it fell on the ground, your eyes sparkled in dozens of star like universe as you took in his marvelous beauty that you had spent creating meticulously after studying all the '101 rules of how to create the perfect male lead that had the readers heart evaporating & a huge ass green forest that certainly would cause blazing flames'.

"oh my god! you look absolutely gorgeous, i've done it really well didn't i?! oh my god!"

"o-oh—! absolutely, you did well!" he immediately replied back, pressing his lips tight nervously.

wait what? what did he say? oh shit, oh well, covering your mouth instantly as you accidentally let it out before the prince, your precious male lead that you solely created for the female lead. "i—.."

the prince, your very precious character—obviously taken aback with a slight blush dusting of his adorable cheeks as he raise his fist up to his lips, coughing a couple of seconds. a personality trait you very well are familiar of cause that's how you wrote him when he fall in love with the female lead.

your eyes ogled out at that familiar sight, screaming at the back of your mind—wait, wait! you're not supposed to fall in love with me, you idiot! go back! go inside the ball, she's inside there!

"that's oddly brave of you, milady. i'd certainly go as far as to say that i've never seen such traits from a lady." kitten eyes softening at you, crouching down as he lend both of his hands for you. you raised your eyebrow confusingly at what is he trying to pull at but you realise he was intending to get you up.

"u-uhm? uh, sorry. i could get up on my own, actually." yeah, that's what you did. pushing yourself back up despite his protests because you ain't gonna let him fall any further for you, nah uh, not in this life, your mission is to get him and your female lead together inside the frames of birds holding flower wreaths as they went on to their happily ever after.

not with you!

"may i have the honour to know your name, though, milady?" why the fuck isn't he leaving, what is there so interesting in you that he is still standing here asking you such generic questions.

you shouldn't be having the characters attention on you as you obviously wrote it that way, and that even though your character in the novel had tried to get the prince's heart, despite resorting to foul actions, that he never truly had been attracted to her despite this characters' seductive aura.

for you squealed so loud at the scene you wrote, with jungwon putting her in her place. "you are not her, and you would never be her." along with the bunch of your readers hosting a flamboyant celebration under the comments, screaming over how loyal he was.

so what in the actual fuck is this?

"you don't need my name." you nonchalantly answered.

"my apologies?"

"you see, my best friend is in the ball—" you gestured your hands to the entrance of the ballroom, "and she needs your help more than i do."

"wait? why would she need my help?" his eyebrows knitted together in utter confusion as you pushed him through his back.

"of course, she do! don't ask anything!"

"wait!— my name is!" he forcefully turn to face you again, but you immediately covered his mouth with your hands—kabedonning him against the wall.

an excruciating silence occured between you two in the silent hallway, Jungwon freezing to his core when your other hand shoot beside his head.

"listen i don't need your name, dear sir." you emphasise each word, you certainly don't need to know his name nor his status as a prince, not wanting to risk any possible connection with him judging by how he acted before you just now.

"b-but!" his words were muffled into the void as you cupped his mouth tighter.

"shh, shh. stop talking and listen, will you?!"

jungwon nodded slowly, what an odd situation he was in right now, he thought. but somehow he likes it.

"so first step, is go inside the ballroom. second, look for the lady in pink gown, and third—"

"t-third?"

"third is tell her your name! my best friend needs it more than i do!" you release him from your grasp as you went to swing open the huge double door, "now go!" waving a goodbye before kicking his body through the entrance, pulling the door back with your entire strength despite his protests.

oh of course, you finally let out a gag after suppressing it in front of him the entire time as you've never had a proper conversation with a male without stuttering, somewhat a sad tragedy for you, unfortunately. you felt quite guilty about your readers who swoon over the romances you wrote between your leads, weeping over how you're so good at it—not knowing you're a complete introvert with only a gigantic ass dictionary with you.

finally, the male lead and female lead's romances are about to start! you squealed with your hands clasping as you went on your way to the carriage, gesturing for the rider to embark on the way to your heavenly puffy manor with the widest big grin ever that it had him questioning you, "has any gentleman had caught your heart, milady? a couple of hours ago, you were often beyond distraught to attend the ball but insisted when you heard Lady Liz was going."

"oh, you silly." you giggled as you swayed your hand, "of course, that's one of the reasons. but there's another one.."

"may i ask what is it, then?"

you leaned in closer, urging him to get closer as you whispered. "i got the chance to become a Cupid!"

"a Cupid?" you squealed before the old man, hopping like a child for quite awhile before flying into the carriage much to his surprise, but only shook his head in amusement—appalled by how his mistress had changed so much.

"so?" you couldn't help yourself from pulling out the widest eccentric grin at the female lead, extremely curious and ecstatic over what romances had bloom between her and Jungwon.

Liz raises her eyebrow in confusion, "so?.. what do you mean, milady?"

you shrugged, falling back to your seat as you raise your eyebrow in a comical way, "that.." whispering ever so seductively, "prince."

"p-prince?

"yes!" the teacup rattles at your excitement oozing so much that you tapped the table a couple of times. "what happen? what's the tea~"

she lets out a soft giggle, a bit amused by your excitement. "i have no idea what you're trying to imply, milady."

"wait? what are you saying? didn't the prince went to you last night?"

Liz shook her head slowly, her expressions clearly stating that she absolutely don't know what and who you were talking about as a smile pulled up on her lips once again, taking a few sip from her teacup.

veins popped out from your neck as it dawned on you, your head snapped towards the castle on top of the mountain, you stupid of a prince! you cussed at him endlessly at the back of your mind, tightening your fist as your ears and nose fuming in anger. how dare he? he didn't listen to you at all? what in the actual fuck? would this somehow divert the original route? a dozen question arise into your mind one after another, causing you to let out an exaggerated sigh.

facepalming yourself as you imagined the imaginary heavenly light on top of you, weeping to yourself about how tremendously unlucky you are to have a hard headed male lead. it's impossible, you have never added a trait so irritating like this in his profile so how could this happen?

"milady?" the gentle voice of your precious female lead pulled you out of your inner desperation, you leaned in closer, whining so much over how unlucky you were and such, the rest only being in your mind as you pouted.

"ah, i remember now, the prince—"

"WHAT?—" you immediately seated yourself after giving her a potential heart attack, "my apologies, what did you actually.. remember?"

"i assume you were talking about the prince from yesterday? prince jake?"

"no not that bitch— oh certainly not him, ehem.." you took a couple of exaggerated coughs, avoiding her evident confusion. "isn't there a prince.. name jungwon with you that night?"

"oh my goodness! right! prince jungwon!" she shook her head in disbelief with her finger on her head.

right, how did you even forgot that the female lead in front of you had a "weak ass memory" in her profile description. tsk tsk, truly a forgetful author you are. you should be trying your best to remember the things you wrote before and revise it as best as you can, to avoid any possible problems in the future, atleast.

"right, how did i even forget, the prince asked me for your name, milady—"

"huh?" you look at her with confusion, as you were out of reality a couple of seconds ago. your orbs terribly widened as her words slowly sinking in to your brain. "HUH?"

ask your name?! why your name, why not hers?! what did the prince ate that night before stumbling onto your way that he had to ask for your name before the female lead—his own lover?!

laughing awkwardly, you raise your leg on top of another as you nervously swayed your hands repeatedly. "oh dear, oh dear. you might have heard it wrong, the prince?—" snorting outloud as you gestured to yourself, "asking for my name? what a funny news!"

"i didn't, milady. the prince came to me and asked me for your name, as he was immensely curious of who you are so i—"

"so what?—" you can't believe this, you really can't bring yourself to believe any words she was uttering. you should have been bestowed by the news that the prince had taken an interest in her, a hand in marriage, or anything, anything as long as you're out of the picture! "y-you didn't tell him my name, d-didn't you?"

"of course, i did!" exclaimed she did with the widest grin ever.

why are you so freaking happy over this?! clasping your head in your hands as you tragically fall on your knees causing the lady to gasp in shock, ushering to your side to get you up.

"milady?! what's wrong?"

"d-dear," you pouted as you look up to her, "you didn't tell him where my manor's at, r-right?"

she simply replied, "i did? the prince informed me that he's going to send a letter for you to be his partner to the ball."

an imaginary arrow struck back to your heart, forming a humongous hole that threatens to give you a panic attack. what? what in the actual fuck? did you accidentally did something to divert the original story you yourself created? but you didn't even do anything! you tried to do your best to keep the interaction with him as short as possible and he dared to take an interest in you?!

"milady, a letter from the royal palace had arrived for you."

"discard it. throw it. keep it away from my sight."

"milady?!" Liz and the head of the maid exclaimed in utter shock at your nonchalant answer.

"forget about it, forget about it." you clasped your forehead in utter disappointment, yet your brain were creating another plan b for this unexpected turn of events. what should you do? even more so, what would you do now that the prince had asked for you to be by his side to the ballroom?

this won't do, you won't let this happen—you had to look as unattractive and ugly as possible for him to cringe on and finally divert his attention back to the rightfully person who deserved it; the female lead.

your maids could only fall apart every single time you pluck out the enchanting gems they attached on your hair, ears and wrists. their efforts deemed futile as always as you had no mood for any sort of events, it was like a slap to their face as you initially weren't like this. you overheard them that they couldn't get used to how you were adamant in staying behind the spotlight as you often did your very best in dressing yourself up before, with the sole intention of gaining the favour of men and even more better, a prince.

of course, they are totally oblivious to your real identity. only a series of jaw gaping one after another with your change of character, at first—you had a dilemma over whether you should act like the character you created but you later scrap the idea as soon as the anxiety of being engulfed in the crowd suffocated your chest. opting to avoid as many as balls or public events as possible, but that obviously didn't work out that well since you heard of the female lead's arrival from the country side—just like you intended it to be.

and being the proud mother (writer) you are, of course why wouldn't you take one single look at her and see of how far she had came? but alas, one interaction leads to another one and so on—till finally, you became her best friend throughout her entire journey. waiting for the male lead's arrival, and watch their romances blooming and per se—but oh well, look at the situation you were in right now; total disaster.

you truly despise being in such an extravagant puffy gown and the numerous accessories hugging your skin, it's tremendously uncomfortable that you wanted to rip it off part in front of the prince standing before you right now, and right here.

asking for your hand to dance with that odd kittenish smile, that you swore you had never ever written in his personality profile; he should never have been this casual and chill over a person he had just met. he should've been cold as fuck, icy to touch, and a spiralling disaster if you dare to talk to him, so why?

plus how could he have taken an interest in you? you couldn't possibly have added a dose of the love at first sight trope, didn't you? you despised that trope to your very core.

"milady? may i?" he extended his hand before you, patiently waiting for your answer.

you had decided that you're going to reject him quick and efficient—just like the local fast food restaurant your mouth kept drooling over for, smashing a five star review for their inhuman speedy delivery.

"you see, prince jungwon. i have no desire to have a connection with you, a relationship, as a matter of fact."

he raised his eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by your bold words. "i'm curious milady, why so? have i done something that perhaps had annoyed you?"

cliché question, you loathe that. "what if i said you did?"

"then tell me, milady. i'll try my hardest to own up to you—" he took a steps forward, which causes you to immediately step back as well with a frown on your face. you can't, not in this life, to even give him a single chance to get close to you. nah uh.

"no need, and stay one meter apart, please." you pointed your index finger towards the floor and he hesitated, but complied immediately.

"i." you raise your index finger back to yourself and then at him, "don't like you. do you understand?"

"b-but?"

"stop questioning me, prince jungwon." you stayed firm in your spot, "i believe it's a common decency to step back when a lady had voiced out her opinion, a prince like you certainly would understand, am i right?"

Jungwon was clearly taken aback, the fact that you didn't give him a single chance to utter a word nor take a step closer was a hard punch to his face. It feels as if he was trying to reach for you, but you efficiently dodged it with ease. It kind of.. annoys him.

"base on how you didn't say anything anymore, i assumed we're done here! well then, goodbye prince jungwon." you turned your heels towards the entrance, not bothering to waste any time at this goddamn ball. "i hope this will be the very last." you scoffed inside your mind, eager for the story to return to it's original route, and that the prince would soon deem you useless and such—returning to the female lead's arms.

hm, now where's your precious female lead? she should've appeared right now and right here, strike the pot while it's hot!

"i'm afraid i can't back down that easily, milady." jungwon took a few steps forward, wrapping his hand round your wrist as he spun you around to face his eyes filled with blazing determination. one that you specifically added on top of his profile so that your readers would kept it in mind.

your breath hitched down your throat as you remembered there's only two reasons he could have this; one that reminds you when he was at war, shouting at the top of his voice to encourage his soldiers as they push through the enemies, and another reason of it appearing is when he have to get what he wanted, or else all hell will break loose, chaos will ensue.

right, you're truly an idiot. staying a few years in this novel without any memories, and only for it to surface back when you stumble upon the library—dozens of books flickering a series of eccentric images in your mind. It had cause you to lose all memories of important details, only emerging everytime you are presented with a situation you couldn't comprehend. such as when you forgot that the female lead had memory problems and such.

"i'll only present this choices to you, milady. since you tremendously intrigued me over how well spoken you were and fascinating indeed—" bitch, you don't even know how you had the sudden ability to confront him but you were just sure as hell that you don't want to ruin your own novel. no fucking way.

you can't let him have the upper hand on you.

"let me go." irritated to your core, you tried untangle Jungwon's tight grasp on your wrist but he won't budge even an inch which only had you fuming in anger. "i said let me go, bitch!"

the crowd emits a series of gasps and murmurs as you spun around—twisting the prince's arms which had him yelping in pain, and ultimately pinning him onto the ground. with rage consuming you that nothing was going in your way, you slammed your hands on the both side of his head. clenching your jaw and gritting your teeth as you emphasised each word. "you are one a dumb hell of a bitch, when i said i do not want to see you anymore. i mean it. so—"

"so what?" his smug look resurfaces, one that emerges whenever he was being challenged. yes, do that! he should despise you, not take an interest in you! he should loathe you so much that he can't even gaze at you for a second. excitement surged through your veins as you open your mouth, preparing for the last blow.

"so, get lost. just because you're a prince doesn't mean every girl would fall for you, idiot."

an even more louder gasp emits from the crowd as they clearly heard what you said, their jaw gaping and some covering their mouths with their hands as their mind are now bombarded with random questions over how exceedingly brave you are to insult the royal prince, and of what fate will you met now that you've done such an atrocious act.

a low giggle sent shivers down your spine, and goosebumps to riled over your neck as you realise the prince under you had the widest smirk on his face. you frowned deeply, he shouldn't be smirking! he should be fuming in anger and throwing you out of the palace at this moment. so why?!...

"oh milady, how truly fascinating you are." you let out a loud yelp when he grabbed both of your wrists, pulling you closer to his face—a dangerous close proximity against his fluttering eyelashes and lips that your breath caught up in your throat which causes your cheeks to heated up in embarrassment of what kind of position you two were in right now. "i like you, you would certainly be a perfect fit to be by my side."

"what?!" you exclaimed, jaws dropping and eyes about to pop out at his very words. "i don't want to be by your side—"

"a lady like you, i'm afraid to say, intrigues me very much..." Jungwon shots a kittenish wink right through your heart. "be my wife, milady. i'll show you how good I can be for you."

「 © talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.

[love-quinn]

— GOOGLE REVIEWS

summary — carmen's never been good with his words, so when he finds you crying in the walk-in, he gets some help to convince you that you're capable of doing your job.

warnings — swearing, general customer-service nightmare stuff. reader is younger than carmen but i pictured/wrote her as being mid-late twenties (25-28 ish) and i think carmy is early 30s so there's an age gap but they're both fully adults, also boss/employee relationship so power imbalance but also nothing happens between them

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1.9k

note — first carmen fic so obligatory warning that he might be OOC, i rlly work on dialogue and shit but i am finding my footing. waitress!reader is kinda special to me i might write some more about them cause they're both so silly if that's something people would be interested in? anyway i hope you enjoy :3

“Stupid… fucking useless- fuck!”

The rush is familiar. The lunch rush, the dinner rush, the fifteen different orders jumbling in your head as you struggle to write it all down in time. Holding nine full glasses of nine different drinks in one hand and struggling to push open the door to run the food out into the dining room. Having to go to Richie and tell him that someone’s card declined so you didn’t have to be the one to tell them. Going into the walk-in and just opening your mouth in a silent scream just to go back out there and finish your shift. 

The rush of cold air on the back of your neck is familiar too. You don’t know what Carmen’s yelling about in the kitchen. You’d just stepped in there to grab food and had caught the tail end of his rant and you’d left with your tray and a million possibilities running through your head.

You’d written something down wrong and now a dish needed to be remade. 

You’d left one of the fridges open and spoiled days worth of food.

You’d given someone something they were allergic to and now you were being sued.

You move through the restaurant on autopilot, avoiding people and chairs and one of Richie’s spitballs sent from behind the counter. You’re so sure that the next time you went back in that kitchen Carmy would be pulling you aside and telling you that you’re fired. 

You deliver the food to the table with a smile and stand back upright to check in with them about that being everything. One of the women sits up a little straighter, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I ordered a side of the lemon herb dressing?”

You look down at her dressing-less plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back with that one, so sorry.”

She waves you off. “You take as long as you need to, honey.”

You practically speed back to the kitchen. Oh, god. You hoped you’d at least get that poor woman her dressing before Carmy fired you. You can’t believe that you managed to screw this up. You’d been lucky to get this job. Carmen had brought you on right when he’d opened up the restaurant and the rest of The Bear had all been super welcoming.

You got on best with Sydney, the two of you were similar in age and she was one of the kindest people you knew. You and Richie also had a nice relationship, you thought he hated you when you first got hired and then he walked out into the alley to have a cigarette, found you crying and punched a guy in the face for you. 

You needed this job. You’d graduated a few years ago and were still struggling to break through in your field, and this job paid the bills and didn’t make you cry every single day. Some days, sure, but not every day. 

You knew you weren’t the best waitress ever, you screwed up and made customers yell at you pretty frequently. You were lucky that Richie liked you enough to stand up for your honor even when you were probably wrong. But you tried your absolute best, you came into work every day and genuinely wanted to help. You respected all of the chefs so much, they all worked so hard, and you wanted to make their lives as easy as possible. 

You go over to Richie and murmur something to him about the dressing, and he takes it to the kitchen. First whatever you’d done to upset Carmy, now this. If he didn’t think you knew how to do your job before, he definitely will now. You glanced over your section. All your tables were eating or had ordered, you’d normally be checking with Sugar when the next reservation was due and triple-checking the table was clean and everything was prepared. 

If you were going to get a walk-in minute in, now would be the best time. Maybe you could do it before Carmy fired you. 

You brush past Tina, not even hearing her concerned call for you. The walk-in was empty and everyone in the kitchen understood. When someone goes into the walk-in with tears in their eyes you leave them alone for as long as you can. 

You can’t believe that you were stupid enough to screw this up. 

The door slams open and you wipe your eyes, expecting it to be Tina needing to actually do her job or Marcus wanting to check on you. It’s Carmen.

“What happened?” He hadn’t been expecting to see you so upset. He’d heard the door slam and wanted to leave it alone, but then Richie had raised his eyebrows, stopping mid-sentence.

“God, I can’t wait to hear about whatever asshole yelled at her this time,” he’d shaken his head, trying to go back to what he’d been talking to Carmy about before. One of the shelves had been knocked and two containers of flour had been completely emptied out onto the floor. They had lids on, lids with clamps on them that were meant to stop that from happening but lo and behold Fak was now mopping up something that was beginning to resemble bread dough with how much water he was trying to use. . 

“Who?” Carmy’s eyes had still been glued to the walk-in. Richie had said your name and Carmen had practically excused himself in the same breath. This time? Did you get yelled at by customers a lot?

You wipe your face, shaking your head. “Sorry, Carm. I guess I just needed a second, I’ll get back out there.”

You take a step forward and he, without meaning to, moves to block the door. You feel your heart rate climb. This was it, he was going to scream at you in the walk-in. “You’re crying.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t want to be crying in front of your boss. Especially not Carmen. He’s a lot, you know that. You’re not in the kitchen a whole lot, but when you are he’s usually not super happy. He’s a yeller, half of Chicago knows that. But he’s always kind to you, he gave you a job when you were fresh out of college in an unrelated field with no experience because he could tell how much you needed one. You often felt out of place slightly, through no fault of the other staff. They spent all shift in the kitchen together and you spent your entire shift out there in the dining room. You know they’re not having sleepovers and braiding each others’ hair in there, but your work mostly took place in a different room.

But Carmen always makes sure you get Family, that you get your break even if it’s scheduled while it’s busy and that Richie isn’t skimming your tips (he’d never, but Carmen’s caught him with his hands in the jar so often that he isn’t sure anymore). 

It really doesn’t help that he looks like that.

You’re shaking, and he worries for a second that it’s because you’re standing in the freezer, but there are tears welling in your eyes and he doesn’t want to drag you out to his office when you’re so visibly upset. “I’m sorry,” you’re shaking your head. “Please don’t fire me.”

Carmen frowns. “Why would I fire you?”

The words seem to tumblr from your mouth without your permission. “I know I’m not the best waitress, I’m sure you get lots of complaints about me and I forgot that woman’s dressing and I know nothing about kitchens but I’m trying, Carm. I promise, and I’ll do better.” You’re talking so fast that he can barely keep up. He’s still caught up on the first part. 

“Wait, wait,” he holds a hand up to stop you. “Who told you you’re not a good waitress?”

You sniff, tears fully rolling down your cheeks. Carmen knows he’s rough. He’s prone to explosions. Carmen is a hurricane, he wreaks havoc on whatever environment he’s in. He sucks in everyone else’s bullshit, swirls it around and then spits it back out, leaving whatever is left in worse condition than he found it. 

You were calm. You calmed everyone. If an asshole yelled at Carmen, or Sydney or Ebra, Richie wouldn’t even dream of going out there and yelling at the customer. Marcus made you a cake on your birthday and Sydney tries all of her newest recipes on you. 

The eye of the hurricane. 

You’re prattling at this point. “-And that time that I made that guy wait fifteen minutes for a straw, and-”

“Honey,” he doesn’t mean to, that slips out without him meaning. “You’re a great waitress, who gives a shit that guy had to wait for his fucking straw? Who cares, you’re…” he can’t think of a way to talk to you. Great feels too impersonal, wonderful feels too intimate. It’s what you are, though. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re… everyone loves you. We’re lucky to- I’m sure you could get a job at any other restaurant if you wanted. You’re not a bad waitress.”

That’s apparently the wrong thing for him to say. It only makes you cry harder. “Please don’t fire me,” you look pathetic. Crying to your boss while he fires you in the middle of the freezer. 

Carmen doesn’t let that slide for a second longer than he has to. “Why the fuck would I fire you?”

You don’t need to answer. Because I’m a bad waitress. It hangs in the air like the frosty vapor that flies from his mouth every time he takes a breath. 

“I swear to fuck, you’re a big part of the reason people come in here,” he’s not lying. He knows his name carries weight, he knows people hear “Carmen Berzatto’s restaurant” and that brings them in the door a lot of the time. He pulls out his phone, reception is shit but he’s able to google the name of the restaurant. 

He doesn’t have to scroll far down the Google reviews before he finds it. “Food was great, waitress was lovely, made us feel so welcome.” He finds another one. “Waitstaff was on top of it. Two people at surrounding tables smashed glasses and from what I saw one waitress cleaned them both up and still managed to get our appetizers out on time.” 

He goes to find another one but stops, looking back up at you. “You’re not firing me?” You take a step back, dropping your entire body so you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor. He watches you, gauging your reaction, before mirroring you. Your knees are almost touching his. 

“I’d have to be a fucking moron.”

The silence is deafening. 

“Hey,” Carmen can’t bite back the shocked laugh. “That’s… alright. Fine.”

Hearing you laugh makes relief bubbled up inside of him. 

“I should go back out there,” you nod towards the door.

Carmy shakes his head, knee nudging against yours. “Richie’s got it, Marcus can walk desserts, Syd’s on top of everything. No one’s gonna hold it against you if you stay here for a bit.”

He stands, hand brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door. “Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head and he nods. “I’m gonna make you some pasta, okay? Richie can take over for a bit, you take your time in here I’ll be right outside, honey.” He shuts the door and your shoulder burns where he touched it. 

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!” 

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called. 

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met. 

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning. 

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.  Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

A/N: Please don't hate me.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[babeydollx]

Jealousy | JJ Maybank

୨୧ Warnings: cursing, smut, oral sex, fingering.

୨୧ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

୨୧ Summary: In which, JJ gets jealous of Y/N's friendship with John B after Y/N comes back from a 2 month long trip.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.5k

୨୧ Author's Note: Damn, this was the first fic I ever wrote two years ago, it's fairly obvious by the writing lmao. I am going to be reuploading all of my fics to match the changes I am making to my blog so.

© Babeydollx 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

You sat by the fire. Taking in the crisp autumn air around you, you’re happy to finally get to see your friends again, especially your boyfriend. You’ve been gone for two months with your parents because of your father’s work. JJ walks over to you with two beers in hand then passes you one.

“I’m so glad I get to see you again babe..” JJ smiled sitting down before giving you a gentle kiss on your head. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m glad too. I really missed this.” You said as he wrapped an arm around you. “Hey! Don’t hog Y/N! We missed her too.” Kiara said with a chuckle as she sits beside you, pulling you away from JJ into a hug. You laugh and hug her back, then look over to JJ. He looked annoyed.

“Ok Kie.. I get that you missed her but, I’d like to spend sometime with my girlfriend. It’s been two months since I’ve got to see her.” JJ said with a sigh. “Oh come on JJ.” John B said as he sat down with the rest of you. “She’s our best friend too, we missed her as much as you did.” “Sorry babe.. looks like you have to share for a little bit.” You giggled softly but blew him a kiss to make him feel better.

JJ chuckled quietly and pretended to catch it in his hand and put his hand over his heart. “Okay I get that you two love birds missed each other, but please, save that shit for later.” Pope said as he sipped his beer. You jokingly flipped him off. That’s how your relationship with Pope worked, you both teased and made fun of each other, that’s how you bonded.

Pope rolled his eyes playfully and took another sip of his beer. “But really Kie, now you’re hogging her, let JB and I see her too.” he chuckled “Fineee..” Kiara chuckled and let go of you, so you went and sat in-between John B and Pope. John B hugged you, gently squeezing. You giggled and hugged him back. John B was your best friend. You had known him even before JJ met him.

After you got a few drinks into you, you were playfully messing with John B. “I- okay is this how it’s going to be? Fine.” John B laughed and started tickling you making you squeal. “I- ok ok.. I’m sorry just stop!” You giggled. JJ watched you and John B laugh and mess around, all you could see in his eyes was jealousy. He didn’t enjoy sharing you, even with your friends and seeing the way you were with John B right now made it worse. JJ looked away from both then got up to get another beer.

Pope, Kiara, and John B had already left so it was just you and JJ now. You were a little tipsy but still aware of your surroundings. JJ was drunk and sitting on the couch, he seemed annoyed. “Baby..? Are you ok?” You asked sitting beside him and took one of his hands into your own.

“Do you love me? Or are you just with me to get close to John B?” He said sounding irritated. “Wait.. JJ where is this coming from?” You cupped his face to make him look at you, worry filled your eyes. “You and John B. I saw the way you acted with him tonight. You barely even acknowledged me.” JJ frowned. Even though he was drunk he was still making sense.

“I mean.. I was with you the second I got home this morning, we were together all day today baby.. and I loved it, trust me. Nothing makes me happier than being with you but, I also wanted to spend time with you and John B, Kiara, and Pope. I missed them too baby.” You said as you frowned a little. “I- I know..” JJ sighed. “I just missed you so much and.. I didn’t want to share you. I wanted you for myself.” He said. “Mmm.. well nothing is new there..” You giggled softly. “Plus.. you wore my favorite bikini tonight. You looked… so fucking hot. I couldn’t even keep my eyes off you.” JJ said as he got close to your ear, his hot breath tickled your skin. “You have no idea how much I just wanted to fuck you.” He whispered.

You bit back a whimper. You could feel yourself getting wet. You then closed your legs tightly. JJ looked down and smirked. “Mmm.. don’t close those legs yet baby.” He said as he spread your legs again. He pulled at the strings on both sides of your bikini bottoms, making the fabric fall off, your pussy now exposed. He then did the same to your bikini top so you were now naked.

JJ studied your body for a moment biting his lip. JJ then tugged his swimming trunks off and stood up beside the couch. You giggled and got onto your knees knowing exactly what he wanted. Your mouth latched onto his cock as you started to suck. JJ let out a low groan as you kept bobbing your head now taking in his full length. JJ let out a loud moan before pulling you up to kiss you passionately. You slithered your tongue into the kiss as he grabbed your waist pulling you closer.

JJ pulled back then picked you up making your legs wrap around his waist and he took you to his room. He walked in, shut the door, and tossed you onto the bed. You giggled as he got on top of you and kissed you hungrily. JJ then kissed down your jawline, then down your neck, and then to your breasts. His mouth latched onto your left nipple as he massaged your right breast with his hand. You let out a moan and gently bit your lip. He then switched now sucking on your right nipple, massaging the left. “mm.. JJ just fuck me already.” You whimpered tugging at his hair.

“Patience Baby Girl..” He said as he kissed down your stomach. He then reached to where you wanted him most. He planted a kiss on your clit. You giggled softly and played with his hair. He then licked up your wet folds. You let out another moan as he began to pump a finger into you while licking your clit. You let out a loud moan and tugged on his hair. “I- mm.. JJ I’m close.” You moaned out.

“Then cum for me baby.” He smirked putting a second finger into you and went back to licking your clit at the same time. You kept moaning out feeling a knot in your stomach. JJ kept fucking you with his fingers faster, he was intent on making you cum right there. You let out one last moan as you released on his fingers, trembling and tugging at his hair. JJ licked your juices off his fingers then put your legs over his shoulders, positioning himself. He decided to tease you a little more first, rubbing the tip of his dick against your folds. “JJ please fuck me already..” You whimpered.

Without a warning JJ thrusted into you easily because of how wet you were. You let out a loud moan and grabbed the sheets. JJ began to pound into you. You kept moaning out and grabbed your breasts squeezing them. JJ grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his eyes now trained on your breasts. He kept hitting your g-spot now making you scream.

“Mm.. you like that baby? Does that feel good?” He asked letting out a moan. You could barely form words, you were a moaning mess at this point and that turned him on more. JJ let go of your wrists and pulled out then flipped you onto your stomach. He slapped your ass hard before thrusting into your entrance again.

“Oh fuck Y/N! You feel so good!” JJ moaned out going faster. “I- fuck JJ!” You moaned out. “I- I’m close..” You gasped out and you grabbed onto the sheets. JJ slapped your ass again, there was now a red handprint on your ass. You moaned louder until you eventually reached your high and came. JJ thrusted into you a few more times before pulling out and releasing his seeds onto your back.

You giggled catching your breath and laid down. JJ laid beside you and held you close as you rested your head on his chest. “Damn.. that was.. so hot.” He said catching his breath. You giggled and bit your lip. “Yeah.. I missed our sex.”

“I’m sorry for getting so jealous over you and John B. It was dumb and childish, he’s your best friend..” JJ said kissing your head. “It’s ok baby..” You smiled and lifted your head up to kiss his cheek. “I love you Y/N.” He said kissing your head. “I love you too JJ.” You smiled holding onto him tightly. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut and you fell asleep in JJ’s arms.

୨୧ Author's Note: thank you so much for reading, angels!

[gothcsz]

𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — made by yours truly 🖤

hiiii 🖤 alright you guys, i’m just gonna go ahead and say that i haven’t been in this fandom for long… like at all (five months give or take… she’s just a baby!) so i don’t have many works yet, but @jolapeno was kind enough to tag me in this amazing idea of hers, so i had to jump on it! it’s hard for me to compliment myself, and the imposter syndrome do be kicking my ass when i see/read all the beautiful fics that get written and posted (for free, mind you) on the daily—but i will say i haven’t had this much fun in fandom in so long, so for that, i thank all of you for making my experience so nice 🖤 on top of participating in this self lovin’ tootathon, i have also just hit a follower milestone that genuinely brings tears to my eyes! who would have thought that me thirsting over my favorite fictional man would bring so many readers, friends, and overall cool people my way? not me, that’s for sure! i’ve definitely grown as a writer in the small time that i’ve been here and have completely fallen in love with this hobby again, all thanks to the support from each and every single one of you. i appreciate you guys more than you know 🖤 (oh brother, she’s crying again. she being me) anywho, enough yapping, here’s a few of my faves from this year (these past 5 months) and why i love ‘em so much

𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 (they're not finished i knowww sorryyyyy but my god do i love them all) :

thoroughfare — i say this all the time but fuck, dude, this fic is the reason i even decided to start posting my writing in this fandom. it's based off this story i wrote almost two years ago and everything about it is so near and dear to my heart. the horror/thriller aspect of it, my side characters, the world building, javier and paloma's relationship, javier's entire characterization... *sighs lovingly* my beloved readers, you guys are literally so strong and have an extra special place in my heart for enjoying this story because i know it's kinda niche and not for everyone so, thank you for supporting your girl 🥹

fantasize — point me in the direction of a bigger ariana grande stan than me... right, right.... you can't! literally saw the music video for the boy is mine and immediately had to javier peña–fy it, lmfao! it was fun switching the roles and having the reader do the stalking and lying. these two freaks make my clit throb and i love their dynamic so. fucking. much. so hot! IS SOMEBODY GONNA MATCH MY FREAK? IS SOMEBODY GONNA MATCH MY NASTY? so glad gatita finally got that ring 💍

unscripted desire — 😏 this fic put me on the map, lowkey, so for that i am forever grateful! what started off as a silly little prompt has now turned into a full blown fic that, to me personally, gives off major rom com vibes, aha. i think reader here is my absolute fave because she's so stubborn and just a badass! sometimes i feel like javi is a little too ooc but then i read everyone's comments and i'm like okay nvm i'm just in my head 🖤

neighbors series — this one right here is amazing because of how collaborative it is between myself and my anons/readers like every time i get a prompt/idea for it in my inbox, i literally lose my mind because it's so good. the yearning, the angst, the drama... bro, i compare it in my head to euphoria s2 and how everyone was watching the new episodes every sunday, live tweeting/blogging what was happening and having discourse around it. that's how i feel every time i post for our neighbors, i literally love interacting with all of you! this is our novela fr

𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 / 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 :

𝐈𝐈𝐈. i wake up in the middle of the night thinking about fucking/dating modern day marcus acacius and lucius verus. that is all. I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD POSSIBLY MY BEST WRITING TO DATE. okay, sorry for the caps, i just had to say that lol

husband!javier peña seducing you at the bar pretending to be a stranger 🙂‍↕️

purgatory aka my threesome fantasy. i love women, halloween, and javier peña so this is just super indulgent for myself, hehe

worst behavior. something about javier peña being a secret service agent just really did it for me, i fear. plus, it was my first time participating in a writing challenge on here so consider that cherry popped!

javier peña has a panty kink. that is all.

once upon a time kat wrote for joel miller and there are times were i reread this and think 'wow, the things i'd do to have joel fuck me at a national park'

𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 / 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒔 :

being a secretary for javier peña and teasing the fuck out of him 🖤

a little webweaving-esque edit for neighbor!javi that i stare at all the time tbh

oh to be a black girl dating javier peña! there's a lot to be said about representation in fandom spaces in general, so to that i had to make something for my fellow black girls who might not feel very seen around here! i do plan on making more, and i love how romantic this moodboard came out

general moodboard for my fic thoroughfare that i think encapsulates the vibes pretty well, hehe

chapter eight moodboard for thoroughfare. i'm so in love with them

chapter nine moodboard for thoroughfare. the angst! the visuals are exactly what was in my head while writing it

western nights edit for thoroughfare. this song within the context of the fic is just chef's kiss! i love the photos i used here

𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 :

mis primas (gn), that's what you all are to me! i really wish i could tag each follower i have, each anon that's sent me fucking gold in my inbox, but alas i can't; so here are some of the people that make my heart go boom boom boom every time i see them in my notes or just people that i admire from afar 🖤 also consider this a tag to do this if you're a writer!

@almostempty , @auteurdelabre , @persephone-girl , @correapunk , @littlefruitbowl , @dontlookatme121 , @thundermartini , @joelmillerisapunk , @almostfoxglove , @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 , @prose-before-hoes , @letsmeetintheafterglow , @yxtkiwiyxt , @ovaryacted , @bambisweethearts , @thereaperisabitch , @probablyreadinsmut , @itwasntimethatdidit40 , @pedgito , @joelsrose , @sanarsi , @maiamore , @penascigarette , @theetherealbloom , @swankyorange , @cowboy-like-m3 , @hoelaris , @king-simp , @wildemaven , @professionalpromqueen , @amanitacowboy , @sassyhonks , @syd-djarin , @angiewatson , @stargirlfics , @asobeeee , @kirsteng42 , @joelssluttyknee , @hotgirlbedtimescenarios , @javierpena-inatacvest , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @jay-zzle , @miss-oranje-disco-dancer , @bbyanarchist , @greenwitchfromthewoods , @myownwholewildworld

if i forgot to tag you, i am so sorry okay! but just know: i see your comments ladies (gn), and they make me smile. i'm lurking and i'm stalking when you least expect it. but lately I've just been takin care of my business and gettin my grind up, but i promise you, i'll be back to play and get my flirt on 💋

[syuga-s]

i made my fiancés tinder profile

w.c. 8.5k pairing. non-idol!jeon jungkook x fem!reader genre. cute and angsty friends to lovers <333 a/n. idk guys i wrote this like a month ago but I JUST GOT THE ENERGY TO POST IT so i apologize in advance if you find mistakes here and there, ALSO i made the playlist that inspired me to make this fic so i'll just leave it here if you want to give it a listen or save it don't look at my other playlists tho they're a mess 🦦

You always thought you were pretty good at giving dating advice. It’s easier when you’re not the one doing the dating, right? That’s how it all started with Jungkook. You two were chilling at your apartment one lazy Sunday afternoon when you suddenly blurted out, “Why are you still single, Jungkook? You’re amazing, good-looking, and fun. You should at least be on like three different dating apps.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair in that effortlessly cool way he always did. “Dunno' just haven’t found the right person,” he said with a smile that made you heart do a weird little flip. “I don’t think I’m good at dating, haha.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you shot back, sitting up. “Let's make you an account. We’ll get you some matches in no time.”

He hesitated for a second, then shrugged. “Sure, let's do it.”

And that’s how you ended up setting up his profile, not realizing that this would be the beginning of the end of your denial and the start of a love story you never saw coming.

You grabbed his phone and he settled onto the couch next to you. “Okay, first things first. We need some killer photos. Let’s start with your main picture.”

You opened the camera app. You sat there, looking at his phone for a minute before he let out a loud laugh.

You looked up. “What is it?"

He grinned, pointing at something behind you. "It's just Tae taking a picture of us setting up a dating profile," Jungkook said, chuckling.

You turned around to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, holding his phone up with a huge grin on his face. "Don't mind me," Taehyung sang out, winking at the two of you. "Just capturing this for posterity."

Tae showed Jungkook the picture and a fit of laughter erupted again, now from the two of them. "Your face! You look so focused and super serious right now."

Rolling your eyes, you lightly smacked his arm. "This is serious business! We need to find the perfect picture to reel in all the potential matches."

Then you started browsing through his photo gallery to curate the most attractive selection of pictures.

There you had him on the gym doing weights, him on his boxing gear, with his dogs, him doing the dishes with a strangely tight black shirt, a few selfies on his car, with his motorcycle. You could sell a whole album with his photos, how on earth would you do him justice and only choose 10 of them?

"Why is this so hard?"

Jungkook chuckled. "Because you're not choosing photos for a profile, you're trying to find a reason to stare at me and my body for too long."

"Boy, I'm trying to help you here, and if I'm gonna do it, I might as well do this like a professional matchmaker." You retorted.

His eyebrows furrowed. "When have you ever paired someone up?"

You smiled smugly. "That's none of your business, Jeon."

"It is, actually, since you're helping me with this thing."

"Fine, if you must know, I hooked up one my friend's older sister with my college roommate."

"Really? How did that go?" He asked, curious.

"Pretty well, they've been together for a couple years now." You answered, still going through his photos.

"Wasn't your college roommate that guy with the blue hair?" He asked, his tone changing slightly.

"Uh-huh, why?"

"Wasn't he the guy you were dating during our third year?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that."

"How can you forget about him?" He sounded annoyed. "You spent an entire week crying in my bed because he broke up with you."

"Oh my god, did I? I don't recall." You were playing dumb, of course you remembered but there was no need to talk about that. "What do you think of this one?" It was a shirtless picture, point blank.

"I think you look kinda slutty but everyone's gonna eat it up, you'll get a date in no time." You continued.

"I am not posting a shirtless picture, are you crazy?" He snatched the phone from your hand.

"Well, it's not like we're gonna sell the damn picture, it's just your torso and the picture is really nice, you look good, I don't know why you're making such a fuss."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you.

"What? I'm complimenting you, it's the truth." You rolled your eyes.

"Okay, thank you." He was blushing.

"Are you blushing?" You asked, amused.

"No, it's just really hot in here." He took off his hoodie, throwing it somewhere in your living room.

You didn't even realize how close he was sitting next to you. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been on your couch, but something felt different today. It was strange.

All the photos that you chose showcased different aspects of Jungkook's personality. Each photo told a story about him - his love for his dogs, his passion for staying active, his playful side with silly selfies. As you scrolled through his gallery, you couldn't help but notice the genuine smile on his face in many of the pictures, a smile that seemed to light up the whole world.

After him putting up a fight on choosing his favorite photos of him, next you had to write him something for his bio.

Jungkook leaned in closer to read over your shoulder.

"This is stupid, what do you want me to write? My name, my age, my occupation?" He was whining.

"Yes, those things obviously, but also things like, I don't know a joke or something to sum up your personality. I want them to know you're fun and cute, mind-blowingly good at everything, something along those lines."

"I am mind-blowingly good at everything." He said, his tone confident.

You rolled your eyes.

"So let's say, what if I write 'shit i'd date the hell out of me', you like it?" You asked him with a smile.

He laughed. "I do, I really do."

"Okay, it's settled." You wrote down the phrase, and a bunch of things about him.

"Now we just have to add something that will hook them up."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just be honest. Just, don't write that you're looking for a girl to have sex with."

"But I am looking for a girl to have sex with." Blank expression on his face.

"You are so dumb sometimes." You threw a pillow at his face.

He caught it mid-air. "God, you know I'm not look— this was YOUR IDEA IN THE FIRST PLACE!" He yelled, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, but, just write something that will make you look not like a manwhore."

He thought for a moment. "I know, I got it."

"Okay, shoot."

"I'm a manwhore." He had the brightest smile.

"Oh, for the love of..." You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Alright, fine. If that's what you want to go with, who am I to stop you?"

You two were done, and he was already getting notifications.

"Woah, that was... surprisingly fast." He was surprised, and you were proud of yourself.

"Of course, you're hot and cute. We don't see your type in dating apps very often."

He gave you a weird look, you couldn't quite figure out. "Thanks?"

"No worries, I'm sure you'll find someone in no time." You patted him on the back as you were getting up and ready to go to the kitchen and make some dinner. "See who you like and I'll help you on how to ask them on a date."

"Okay." He smiled.

"What are you smiling at? Are you looking at them already?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to see which one of these girls will be our first victim."

"Don't call them victims." You laughed.

The truth is that Jungkook only agreed to this because he loves spending time with you.

As you busied yourself in the kitchen, Jungkook couldn't shake the warmth spreading through his chest. He scrolled through the notifications on his phone, half-heartedly swiping left and right. His mind wasn't on finding a date; it was on you.

He couldn't believe he agreed to this. Making a profile on Tinder just to humor the best friend he was in love with, seemed harmless at first, but now, seeing the app light up with potential matches, he felt burdened. He wasn't here to date. He was here because he wanted to be closer to you, even if it meant pretending to search for someone else.

Each time a new message popped up, he found himself wondering if you'd approve. Would you laugh at the cheesy pickup lines together? Would you help him craft witty responses? He realized he didn't care about meeting any of these girls; he only cared about spending time with you.

But as much as he tried to focus on the dating app in front of him, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. To the way you laughed and teased him, to the way you always seemed to know what he needed even when he didn't realize it himself. Jungkook found himself longing for something he couldn't quite name, a feeling that stirred deep within him whenever he was near you.

He sighed, setting his phone down on the coffee table as he leaned back on the couch because he didn't bother looking through any of the profiles. Instead he made his way to the kitchen, where you were standing over a pot, stirring absentmindedly.

He stepped up behind you, watching as you stirred. His chest was warm, and he had a strange urge to wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

You turned your head slightly, not looking at him but smiling. "Hey."

Jungkook took a step closer, placing his hand over yours. "Let me help," he said.

You handed him the wooden spoon, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange. He stirred the pot gently, mirroring the way he wanted to handle your heart. Neither of you spoke, the only sound filling the room was the clinking of utensils against the pot.

"You okay there?" Your voice broke through his daydreaming.

He answered you softly while running a hand through his hair nervously. "Yeah, just... thinking."

As the aroma of the dish wafted through the air, you felt his warmth seeping into you, comforting and familiar. You couldn't ignore the heavy tension that hung between you, thick like a fog.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "So... what do we do now?" His voice was low, almost a whisper.

You turned around to face him, his eyes searching yours for answers neither of you dared to voice. "We eat dummy," you said with a laugh.

You and Jungkook sat down for dinner, the tension from earlier still lingering between you. As you ate, you caught each other stealing glances when the other wasn't looking.

"So...have you looked at any of the matches yet?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Jungkook shifted in his seat. "A few, but no one really caught my eye," he said evasively.

You nodded, poking at your food. "Well if you see anyone you like, let me know. I want to help."

"Thanks, I will," Jungkook said with a small smile.

You returned the smile weakly, a pang in your chest at the thought of Jungkook dating someone else. You had pushed the feelings down for so long, not wanting to jeopardize your friendship. But your dumb decision of making him a dating profile forced you to confront how you really felt.

After you finished eating together, Jungkook helped you with the dishes. You dried off your hands, and he was ready to leave. Almost as if he was on a rush.

"Thanks for making dinner," he said with a smile.

You nodded. "Of course, you know I love having you over."

You stood at the door awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "I'll text you," he said.

You gave him a thumbs-up, your voice coming out more high-pitched than normal. "Yeah, cool. See ya later."

He chuckled and leaned down to give you a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent. You held him a little longer than necessary, wanting to memorize the feeling of his arms enveloping you.

Jungkook's hand lingered on your shoulder as he pulled away.

"Goodnight," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he turned to leave. You watched him go, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. As the door closed behind him, you leaned against it, aching with the realization that you might have just pushed away the one person who meant more to you than just a friend.

If only you had the courage to do something.

The following week, you found yourself cleaning your house, the mess had piled up and you had a bunch of your clothes all over the place and that's when you found Jungkook's hoodie from last week. It had fallen between your couch and the wall, so you pulled it out with a considerable amount of force. That's when his iPod fell to the ground.

He still uses this thing? The corners of your mouth turned up involuntarily as you recalled teasing him about the ancient device.

You were surprised, most people uses their phones, or maybe he still has this thing because it was a present from you. If you hadn't seen it you wouldn't have remembered that you had given him this iPod for Christmas like 7 years ago.

You took the device in your hand and turned it on. You figured it would be nice to hear his playlists while you kept cleaning.

You should have just connected it and played it on shuffle. But I guess humans are very nosey creatures. Creatures who love to go through someone else's things, just to see another hidden side of said person.

So, like any other normal human being, you opened his lists, and started to go through them.

"Golden mix", "Euphoria", "OST's". Those were pretty standard. "Lonely nights" a bit of a stretch, "Best of the 00s", "Dance party" and "Songs to sing along". Fork found in kitchen. And there was one more playlist that caught your attention.

Simply labeled with— "Your name."

Your heart started beating faster. What is this?

You opened the playlist and you were welcomed by a list of what it seemed like... love songs.

The first one was "Best Friend". You didn't know what to think. Why did he have a playlist with songs like "Kiss me" by Matt Maltese, "Mountains" by Charlotte Day Wilson, "Making Time" by Rex Orange County. All love songs.

Then it hit you. He's in love.

You started panicking. Your heart racing with thoughts you couldn't ignore any longer. The playlist named after you echoed in your mind.

You couldn't believe it. Jungkook, your best friend, the one who always seemed so casual and carefree, had a playlist dedicated to you filled with love songs. Your mind raced as you tried to process this new information. Was it possible that he felt the same way you did? That the tension between you wasn't one-sided after all?

You sat down on the couch, still holding his iPod in your hands. The weight of it felt heavier now, as if it held all the unspoken words and emotions that had been swirling between you and Jungkook. You couldn't bring yourself to put it down; instead, you scrolled through the playlist again, each song title tugging at your heartstrings.

A sense of warmth washed over you, mingled with fear and uncertainty. What should you do now? Should you confront Jungkook about the playlist, lay all your cards on the table and risk changing everything between you? Or should you keep quiet, pretend you never stumbled upon this precious list?

You knew there was something going on, you weren't stupid. But you couldn't bring yourself to accept the possibility that the guy you love, might like you back. It's easier to pretend like nothing is happening. You have built this whole imaginary life with him in your head, but not once did you consider that it might be a two-way street.

"I already said I'm in love with you Can't you hear me? Why do you act like you don't? You know well the spark in my eyes when I look at you Can't you see it? Why do you act like you don't?"

You had been listening to the song on repeat for an hour. It was stuck in your head. Your heart was aching.

The reality was finally sinking in.

"He's in love with me," you whispered to yourself, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave. It explained so much—his kindness, his attentiveness, even his willingness to go along with making a stupid profile for a stupid dating app. But you had built walls around your heart, afraid to acknowledge the possibility that your feelings were reciprocated.

You felt a surge of emotions, a mix of joy and fear swirling inside you. Jungkook's unspoken confession through his playlist left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely hopeful.

"Falling" played softly through the speakers, its lyrics painting a picture of longing and uncertainty. It mirrored your own inner turmoil, the battle between fear and listening to your heart for once.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was just a friendship, that any romantic thoughts were one-sided. Now, faced with the truth, you didn't know what to do next. Should you tell Jungkook? Should you pretend you never saw the playlist?

Your mind raced with questions, but deep down, you knew you couldn't ignore this any longer. Jungkook's feelings were out in the open, laid bare through these songs that said a lot about his emotions.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and let the music wash over you. Each melody, each lyric felt like a confession, a plea for you to see what had been in front of you all along.

"I already said I'm in love with you," the lyrics repeated in your mind, echoing the words you longed to hear from Jungkook himself.

The weight of the situation settled over you. You constructed the exact same playlist on your own phone, replaying it endlessly, searching for answers in the same songs he had chosen. It became a ritual, a way to understand what Jungkook hadn't yet said aloud. Each track felt like a message, a confession hidden in plain sight.

As days passed, the playlist became a lifeline, a connection to Jungkook that transcended words. You wondered if he knew the impact his secret gesture had on you, if he realized how deeply you analyzed each song, each lyric, each subtle hint of affection.

It was as if the playlist had become a conversation between your hearts, a silent dialogue that spoke volumes about your unspoken emotions. You couldn't deny the truth any longer—the love you felt for Jungkook had bloomed quietly, nurtured by his unwavering presence in your life and it reflected in the selection of songs carefully chosen by him.

And so you continued to listen, to immerse yourself in the music that spoke of love and longing. It was a soundtrack to his emotions, a testament to the unspeakable love that had grown between you and him.

The guys had planned a small gathering at your house. Hoseok, Jimin and Tae arrived at the same time around 8:00 p.m. with food, drinks and Cards Against Humanity. They were already having fun when they rang the bell.

"Hey," you said as you opened the door.

"Hey!" they greeted you.

You all headed towards the living room and they placed the things they brought on the table.

You chuckled, feeling a wave of warmth at their enthusiasm. "Thanks for coming, guys. I've got the place ready—cleaned up only for you the other day," you teased, motioning towards the neatly arranged living room.

As you all settled in, chatting and unpacking the snacks and games, there was a noticeable absence. Jungkook hadn't arrived yet, and though you tried not to dwell on it, his absence didn't go unnoticed by your friends.

"Where's Jungkook?" Tae finally asked, voicing the question that lingered in the air.

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name. "Not sure. He said he might be a bit late."

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, exchanging a knowing look with Jimin. "Didn't he say he was gonna meet with someone from Tinder?"

"Tinder?"

"You know, the dating app," Tae chimed in, taking a bite of a snack.

"I know what Tinder is Tae,” you replied with a laugh, trying to keep your cool.

"So you didn't know he was on a date?"

"No, he didn't tell me. Are you serious? He's on a date right now?" Your voice came out louder than expected, and you cursed yourself for the slip.

Jimin frowned, concerned. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

You waved dismissively, trying to downplay the hurt and disappointment. "Yeah, all good... well, more food and games for us until he gets here."

You tried to push down the gnawing feeling of jealousy that threatened to surface at the thought of Jungkook on a date with someone else. The idea of him with another person stirred up emotions you had been trying so hard to accept the past days. You forced a smile as you joined in the banter and laughter, attempting to bury your own conflicting emotions.

Despite their casual remarks, you couldn't shake the unease settling in your stomach. You hoped Jungkook would arrive soon, eager for his presence to dispel the nervous tension building within you.

The minutes ticked by, filled with laughter and infinite jokes over Cards Against Humanity. Each time the doorbell rang, you found yourself tensing, hoping it was him. But each time, it turned out to be someone else—a delivery person, one of your neighbors...

As the evening progressed, you couldn't help but steal glances at your phone, checking for any messages from Jungkook. But you decided not to keep waiting and decided to send him a text first.

'whats taking you so longggggggg' it read.

He replied instantly. 'i'm outside, coming now'

You put down your phone, your heart pounding. A few seconds later, you heard familiar footsteps approaching and there was a knock on the door. You got up, heading towards the door.

"He's here!" Tae exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face as he jumped up to answer the door with you.

You held your breath as Jungkook stepped inside, a sheepish smile on his lips as he greeted everyone. His eyes met yours briefly, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down.

"Sorry I'm late guys," Jungkook said, setting down a bag of drinks next to Tae's.

Jimin smirked teasingly. "Lost track of time, huh?"

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Haha nah,"

Absolutely not. It was a disaster. Why did I agree to this? She seemed nice enough online, he thought, but in person... It just wasn’t there. The conversation felt forced, and I couldn’t wait for it to end. He grimaced, recalling how he struggled to find common ground and forced a laugh at her jokes. I should've been with y/n tonight, helping her get everything ready for this.

Of course, all of that stayed in his head. He was embarrassed to tell everyone how much he hated meeting someone new. It would just give your friends the opening to tease him more about it.

"Well, you made it, and we're all here now. So let's start" you suggested, breaking the silence.

His eyes sought out yours, finding a mix of emotions reflected back at him—surprise, curiosity, and something he couldn't quite place.

Everyone nodded in agreement and moved to gather around the coffee table, pulling your cushions closer.

With Jungkook's presence, the gathering felt complete, as if a missing piece had been found.

And as you all laughed and played into the night, you couldn't ignore the way Jungkook's gaze lingered on you, a silent reassurance of the feelings you'd been trying to suppress.

"I'm going to take a photo of this." Tae announced, lifting up his beer.

You and the others followed suit, holding your drinks up and smiling. Jungkook on your right got closer to you for the picture, cheek to cheek, his scent surrounding you. You wanted to lean in and practically inhale him.

"Perfect." Tae snapped the shot, and then showed it to the group. "What do you think, everyone?"

Everyone agreed that it was a good photo.

"We all look great," Tae said.

"But not as good as those two," Hoseok joked.

You rolled your eyes. "Please."

"It's true," Hoseok insisted. "You guys look good together."

Jimin nodded, taking another sip of his drink. "They're right. You’d make a cute couple."

Jungkook felt shy at their words. It's not like he was trying to hide his feelings for you, but he hadn't exactly made his intentions known, either. It was frustrating, wanting to be closer to you but not knowing how.

At least it was encouraging to know that your closest friends were seeing you both that way. That meant he had hope, right?

"Okay, that's enough," you said, feeling your cheeks heat up. "Let's keep playing."

As the game resumed, the group's attention shifted back to the cards.

You cleared your throat, shifting awkwardly on the cushion. "So... how was your date?"

Jungkook winced, not meeting your eyes. "It was okay," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

You bit your lip, curiosity gnawing at you. "Just okay? What happened?"

Jungkook shook his head, still not meeting your gaze. "I don't know. It just didn't feel right, I guess."

You tilted your head, searching his face. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook shrugged, a sheepish expression on his face. "It was just... awkward. We didn't really click. I don't know."

Your chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside. "Oh," you managed, turning back to the game. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this kind of thing, you know? Meeting new people, going on dates. It's hard for me. I'd rather be with people I already know and trust."

You knew what he meant. The same went for you. It was hard enough trying to navigate your feelings without having to worry about other people, too.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "I get it."

"I just wish it could be easier, you know? Like, finding someone you actually like who happens to also like you back, and not having to worry about anything else. Just enjoying each other's company."

Your breath caught, your mind reeling from his words. And from the way he was looking at you, you could tell he wasn't just talking about friendship.

"Why would you say something like that?" you questioned, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Jungkook's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Say something like what?"

"That you wish you could be with someone who actually likes you and not have to worry about anything else."

"I... because it's true. I don't want to go on stupid dates anymore, I want to be with someone I care about. Someone I can laugh and have fun with."

You swallowed, your pulse quickening.

"Someone like who?"

Jungkook exhaled, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I think you know who," he said quietly.

You stared at him, speechless, as his words sunk in. Your heart was racing, your body buzzing with adrenaline.

Hoseok, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly made himself heard, "I think I'm stuck in your bathroom!"

You and Jungkook turned to find your friend, who sounded flustered and slightly panicked. Jimin and Tae burst into laughter, trying to contain themselves as Hoseok continued to tug at the bathroom door.

"What do you mean you're stuck?" Jimin managed to ask between giggles.

Hoseok yelled helplessly. "I went in to use the bathroom, and now the door won't open!"

Jungkook glanced at you with a bemused smile, the tension from earlier dissipating with the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously, Hobi?" he chuckled.

Hoseok sounded exasperated. "It's not funny! How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"I'll go get some tools," Tae offered, still chuckling as he headed towards the kitchen.

You stepped closer to the bathroom door, trying to assess the situation. "It's just stuck. Let me try," you suggested, reaching for the handle and giving it a firm tug.

To everyone's surprise, the door swung open easily, revealing Hoseok looking both relieved and slightly embarrassed. "Oh, thanks, I swear it was stuck…"

Jimin clapped Hoseok on the back, still laughing. "Sure it was, Hobi. Sure."

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur of laughter and games, and despite the lingering awkwardness from earlier, you were glad that the night had gone well.

It was close to 2:00 a.m. when your friends finally began to call it a night, and you were exhausted.

"Thanks again for coming, everyone. I had a lot of funnnn," you said, giving them each a hug goodbye.

Jungkook was still on your kitchen helping you clean up all the mess you made. Drying the dishes and placing the glasses on your cabinets. You were cleaning up the table when he walked up to you.

"Need any help?"

"I'm done, thank you."

"Are you sure?"

"I am, thanks Kookie,"

You started walking towards your room when you heard him speak up.

"I really liked being here tonight."

"I know it was a lot of fun," you replied with a small smile. You grabbed his hoodie and his iPod to return them. Staring at the endearing device. Almost as if it were something fragile.

"I'm glad you had a good time," you responded as you walked back to the kitchen, handing him back his belongings. As you stood there in the dimly lit room, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jungkook's gaze was intense as he looked at you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

Jungkook paused his moves, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I was thinking... maybe we could hang out again this week, just the two of us."

"What about the girl from Tinder?" you asked as you returned to face him, your tone sharper than you intended.

Jungkook frowned, confusion clouding his features. "What are you talking about? You know I went on one date. I told you it was a disaster."

You sighed, suddenly feeling foolish. "Yeah, I know, don't know why I asked that, haha" you muttered. "Didn't know you still used this thing,"

He smiled, his fingers brushing over the iPod. "I still love my music in here, you know, it sounds a lot better"

"Yeah, that's what I thought,"

He looked at you intently, and the air between you seemed to grow heavy.

"I've missed spending time with you, Y/N."

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening as you stared at him. "Me too," you whispered.

"So, is that a yes?"

"A yes to what?"

"The offer to hang out,"

"Oh, right. Um, yeah, sure. Sounds nice."

Jungkook's face lit up. "Cool. Well, I guess I'll see you later, then." With a final smile, he turned and left.

You watched him go and your mind was spinning. Jungkook's words echoed in your head, his words sending a flutter through your chest. You couldn't help but grin. Maybe there was hope for you two after all.

The following day, you woke up to the sun streaming in through your curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. You stretched lazily, savoring the warmth of your bed, before reluctantly climbing out and heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Unconciously, you began to shut yourself out. You had spent the whole night awake, thoughts about the possibility of being with your best friend swirling around your head, preventing you from falling asleep.

As you brushed your teeth, you heard your phone buzz. It was a text from him.

'Good morning'

A smile tugged at your lips, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

'good morning'

'can we go out today? im craving pizza'

You bit your lip, considering the invitation. A part of you was eager to see him, but another part was worried that it might be awkward, especially after the scenarios you created in your head last night.

You ended up refusing to go out with him. And he started to get anxious. He thought he may have done something wrong. That you were actually angry for going on a date or that you no longer wanted him to be part of your life just because he went out with someone else.

Jungkook started panicking.

And so, he called the guys.

"I don't know, she's just not acting normal." he sighed.

"Did something happen the other night?" Hoseok asked, concerned.

"No, I don't think so. She didn't say anything to me,"

"So why is she mad at you?"

"I have no idea. I was hoping maybe you had an idea,"

"Did she say she was mad at you?"

"Not directly, but she didn't want to go out today,"

"Well, I'm not surprised. She's probably just tired,"

"Tired?"

"Yeah, from work and all that, she's probably exhausted. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Do you think so? You don't think she's mad at me?"

"I really don't think she is. She'll probably just want to rest for a few days, and then things will go back to normal."

Your attitude changed so suddenly. You kept on cancelling on him. It’s been weeks.

"You have to talk to her, man," Jimin said.

"What do I say? How do I bring it up? Do I just ask her why she's been avoiding me? What if she doesn't know what I'm talking about?"

"Then ask her. Don't overthink it. Just say it."

Jungkook sighed, frustrated. "You make it sound so easy,"

"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you. It's probably gonna be awkward as fuck, but you can't let it get in the way of your friendship. You've been friends for so long, and it's obviously important to both of you. If she really is mad at you, then you need to find out what's going on. But if she's not, then you need to clear the air and move on. Because otherwise, this is just gonna keep getting worse and worse for you."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just... worried, I guess."

"I know, but don't be. Everything’s fine. It’ll work out, especially if you let her know that you like her."

"What? Are you crazy? I can't just tell her that."

"Why not?"

"Because... what if she doesn't feel the same way?"

"So what if she doesn't? You'll never know unless you tell her. And if she does feel the same way, then you can finally stop being all sad and pathetic."

"You think she likes me?"

"Well, only she can tell you that, but you'll never know if you don't talk to her. So suck it up and go for it."

"Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"But... how do I tell her?"

"Just be honest. Tell her you've been worried that something is wrong, and you want to make sure everything is okay. Then let her know how you feel. But, be prepared for her reaction. If she doesn't feel the same way, it could make things weird. But you need to deal with it and move on."

That same day you were laying down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Reading over and over the lyrics of one particular song on the playlist.

"Is there a place for me? Is there a place for us? I can't tell you how much I love you, babe Open the door Open your heart Tell me how you're feeling, I miss you so bad I'm falling to pieces"

And just like that, your phone began vibrating, your heart beating rapidly as his name flashed across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hey, are you free? Can we talk?"

"Uhm... sure, yeah. Now?"

"If it's okay, yes."

"Okay,"

"I'm coming up now."

"Wait, wha-..."

Jungkook was already at your door, knocking frantically. You opened it for him, your heart in your throat.

He stood before you, looking determined. His eyes were wide, his hair tousled, and he was out of breath, as if he had just run a marathon.

"Sorry, I was already on my way. I had to do it now. I have to say it, because otherwise, I won't have the courage to say it some other time,"

"Okay?"

He inhaled deeply, his eyes locked on yours.

"Y/N, I really, really like you. And I've been so confused and conflicted because I've always liked you, then I started thinking that maybe there was more. And then I realized there was. I really, really like you."

You swallowed hard, the words ringing in your ears.

"I-..."

"It's okay, I just wanted you to know,"

You shook your head, struggling to comprehend what he had just told you. "I'm sorry, I'm just..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But I had to say it."

"So, does this mean... what are you saying exactly?"

Jungkook hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Y/N, I don't expect anything from you, and I don't want things to get weird. But I just had to tell you. I'm crazy about you."

You nodded slowly, processing his words. "uh. I-... uh."

"I know it's sudden, and I'm sorry. I just couldn't hold it in anymore. But I don't want anything to change, I promise. I'll just go, and we can forget this ever happened. We can go back to the way things were, I promise. I'm sorry,"

"Jungkook, stop apologizing. It's not a bad thing, I'm just... processing. I've never had anyone say they're crazy about me before," with your phone in your hand an idea immediately came to you.

"Can I show you something?" you asked him.

"What is it?"

You walked up to him, your phone in your hand. You handed him your device and let him see your screen. There it was, the infamous playlist.

Jungkook's doe eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips as he noticed. "What... is this...?"

"I went through your iPod when you left your hoodie last time," you told him with an embarrassed grin. "They’re the same songs you have on yours,"

"This is so embarrassing," he groaned, his cheeks red. "You... you went through my iPod?" Jungkook asked, now with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief that he wasn't angry about it. "I was curious about the music you listen to. And I found… this,”

He stared at the playlist, then back at you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So... does that mean you... already knew how I felt?" Jungkook asked, hope flickering in his eyes.

Your heart raced at his words, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling inside you. Could this really be happening? Could your long-standing friendship truly be blossoming into something more?

"Jungkook," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I like you too. More than just a friend."

"So what does this mean? That we are supposed to be together?"

"Maybe, or maybe not. It could just mean that you have great taste in music and I admire it,"

Jungkook's eyes widened with hope, a grin spreading across his face. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I was afraid of ruining everything between us."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Me too, I’m sorry for making you worry these past few days,"

"Can I hug you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook held onto you tightly, his arms snug around your waist. You rested your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes and inhaling his familiar scent.

After a few moments, he pulled away slightly, his hands still resting on your hips.

He looked at you with a mix of relief and uncertainty in his eyes. "So, I didn't ruin anything between us?" he murmured softly.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "You didn't ruin anything, Jungkook. If anything, you've made everything clearer."

His shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, a hint of a smile returning to his face. "I'm glad."

"I'm glad too," you began again, your voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "But I also want you to know that... I've been thinking a lot too."

Jungkook turned to face you fully, his expression a mix of anticipation and apprehension. "About...?"

"About us," you admitted softly, meeting his gaze. "About how much I enjoy spending time with you, about how much I admire you, and... how I've felt something more than just friendship for a while now."

His eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them. "A while?”

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Yes, Jungkook. A while. I've just been afraid to say anything because I didn't want to lose you in case you didn't felt the same way about me."

He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out tentatively. "Y/N... I wish I had known sooner. I've been struggling with these feelings, not knowing if you felt the same way."

"I'm sorry for not saying anything earlier," you murmured, your fingers brushing against his. "But I'm glad we're talking about it now."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too. More than anything."

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your shared emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Jungkook spoke again, his voice filled with determination.

"So... what do we do now?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him. "I think we take it one step at a time. We've already taken a big step today."

He nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just... really happy right now."

"Me too," you said, squeezing his hand.

"I guess the only question now is... are we... together together?" he asked hesitantly.

You grinned, your heart pounding in your chest. "Only if you want us to be,"

"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, yes,"

"Then it's settled. We're together," you giggled.

Jungkook laughed, the sound sending a warm feeling through your chest.

Cut to 4 years in the future.

There you were at a dinner with friends and family. It had been four years since you got together, but it felt like an eternity. You both were so excited for each other, for your life from now on.

"Hey, you got a little something," he whispered, brushing away a strand of hair from your cheek.

You couldn't help but smile, his touch as tender as ever. "Thanks,"

"No problem," he smiled.

Then you could hear someone clinking a glass. "A few words from the fiancé!" Jin's voice reverberated through the dimly lit restaurant.

"Y-yeah, yeah," your boyfriend stuttered, clearing his throat and standing up. He was a nervous wreck, and it was adorable.

"Um, first, thank you all for being here. It really means a lot to us. We know how important it is to have your loved ones around you on a special day, and we're so grateful for everyone who's supported us. Second, a special thanks to my future father and mother-in-law. Thank you for always being there for us and for supporting our relationship. And, um, thanks to my own parents for, uh, also supporting us."

As the guests began to laugh, your boyfriend cleared his throat and continued, his gaze fixed on yours.

"But most importantly, I want to say thank you to my amazing girlfriend. Thank you for making every day better. Thank you for always being by my side and for loving me unconditionall—"

"We know that already! Entertain us or I won't pay the bill!" Jin's loud voice interrupted again.

You couldn't help but chuckle and the guests laughed again, amused.

Your fiancé smiled, clearly enjoying the teasing.

"Alright, alright," Jungkook cleared his throat before he continued, "actually, we agreed that we'd never tell anyone how we actually got together but I guess we're past that, right babe?"

"Oh no, don't!" You blushed, a little embarrassed.

"It's a funny story," he continued. "It's kind of a long one, but this girl right here thought that the best course of action was to make me a dating app profile before telling me that she was in love with me."

Everyone burst into laughter.

"I was dumb, okay?" you joked, earning more laughter from the guests.

"So, we ended up talking to some people on said dating app and went on a few dates, which were terrible—"

"Hey! It's not my fault that you agreed even though you were also in love with me!" — "Everyone, he had a playlist with my name filled with sentimental songs like the most lovesick boy on Earth!"

"But babe trust me, it's a great playlist, by the way," you added.

"And then we got drunk, and the truth was revealed."

"What?! No way," Hoseok laughed.

"We weren’t drunk, I’m kidding, I just told her that I had liked her since the beginning," he said. "We just made a disaster, and we were both scared shitless."

"But here we are," you added.

"So, yeah, thanks for coming everyone," your fiancé concluded, his voice breaking a little as he wrapped up his little speech.

You could see him trying to blink back tears as he sat back down next to you, and you gave his hand a squeeze.

"You did great," you whispered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice hoarse.

Your parents got up, taking the floor after him.

"Thank you, thank you," your mom said, a bit embarrassed.

"We’d like to share a few words as well. First, we'd like to thank everyone for coming. It's such a privilege to have all our family and friends here, and we're so thankful for your support. And we're especially grateful for our beautiful daughter and our soon-to-be son-in-law. We are so proud of both of you, and we know you'll have a long and happy life together."

"Thanks," you managed to say, overcome with emotion.

"So, now, we'd like to present the couple with a little something. It's just a small token of our love for them," your mother added, signaling for someone to come forward.

Jimin, Hoseok, and Tae stood up from the table and approached the stage, each of them holding a framed collage.

"Here, you can pass these out," your mother said, handing each of the guests copies of the photos.

You and your fiancé were stunned as the three guys presented the photos to you.

The photos were a collage of different memories: you and him during his graduation, another one from yours, a candid shot of him cooking for you, a photo of the two of you smiling in front of the sunset, and a picture of him holding your hand while you were asleep.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the beautiful photos, each one capturing a special moment in your relationship. The love and happiness radiating from the images made your heart feel full to the brim. You glanced at Jungkook, whose eyes were also glistening with unshed tears, and you reached for his hand, holding it tightly.

"Thank you so much," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion. "These are... perfect."

"I have a gift for you too," you told him, reaching under the table. You brought out a box wrapped in bright pink paper and a bow.

He looked at you with surprise, his eyes shining with curiosity as he took the box from your hands. Slowly unwrapping it, his mouth fell open in astonishment when he saw what was inside. Nestled within the box was a beautifully crafted watch, the silver band gleaming under the soft light of the restaurant.

"Oh wow," he breathed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... it's incredible."

"It's engraved," you whispered, pointing to the back of the watch where a message was etched. His eyes widened as he read the words: 'Forever yours, Y/N.'

"I was hoping you'd wear it to the wedding," you said, grinning. "But don't cry, you'll make me cry!" you exclaimed.

"I'm not crying, I just..." he trailed off, sniffling.

"I love it," Jungkook finally managed to say, his voice filled with emotion. He stood up abruptly and pulled you into a tight hug, “I love you.”

As you both separated, there was a collective 'aww' from the guests, making you both blush.

The rest of the evening continued with laughter and joy, surrounded by the love of friends and family. People danced, sang, and shared stories late into the night. It was a celebration of love and new beginnings.

As the night winded down and guests started to leave, you found yourselves standing alone in the dimly lit space. Jungkook wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close.

"Thank you for everything today," you said sincerely, looking into his big brown eyes.

"Thank you for being mine," he replied softly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness.

"I wouldn't want to be anyone else's," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Jungkook cupped your face in his hands and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of the deepest affection you’ve ever felt.

[justheblueberry]

handbinding of A Study in Scarlette by kittebasu

There are people who want to live forever, and then there is Shinichi, who just wants to live a little longer than this.

this bind has been in my head since i first read the fic like, three years ago. i dreamed up so many ideas for it, for so long, and now it's finally done! the typeset was actually done in early 2022, back when i was still using google docs, but it went through a few iterations because i was just. so. fiddly. with every aspect of this book. it needed to be perfect (as close to perfect as i, an amateur bookbinder out of my depth, can get) and it had to be absolutely over the top, to reflect the insane amount of love and care that the author put into the fic itself.

the first time i read this fic, i barely knew what detective conan was, much less all of the intricate plot details; i was just along for the ride, but by the end i was completely invested. i went back and watched through the anime as well as a few movies (it took me six months) and then read the fic again. and then a few more times. kaishin and the world of dcmk has utterly gripped me. it's 100% this fic's fault and i love it so, so, much.

i went through a few iterations of visual designs and i'm really happy with the little details i managed to squeeze in.

the entire color scheme is based around red, because 1) it's a murder mystery, 2) for scarlette shinamoto (and the title of the fic as well as the original holmes novel it references), and 3) the irony of "lady red" actually being red. the secret fourth reason is that i think red/gold is a super sexy color combo.

i sewed the textblock with red thread to reference holmes' "scarlet thread of murder".

another detail i love is the five yen coin bookmark, it was one of my first ideas and it turned out even better than i thought.

i wanted the endpapers to evoke a sense of the white marbled floor of the ballroom, with the glow-in-the-dark kaitou kid caricature being the luminol on the floor, and the little pops of red looks like blood that's been mixed in. i lucked out in that the other side of the endpaper was like a lavender-purpley color, i like to think of it as a little wink wink nudge to the color of the actual Lady Red.

the chapter pages got a few reworkings, but i'm happy with the illustrations i ended up doing for each of them. the chapter titles are one of my favorite things about the fic, each one has so much meaning packed into it and flows so beautifully, and i wanted to put as much care into making them pop as possible.

the cover was a linocut carving i designed and carved, which i then printed onto the bookcloth, and ironed on htv on top.

i also threw in a couple of my drawings of my favorite scenes.

this is getting way too long, so i'll end it here. i'll have a separate post detailing the process every step of the way, if anyone wants to take a closer look. this fic is kind of directly responsible for getting me into fanbinding, so it's safe to say it altered the course of my life. i now spend way too much time (and money) looking at book stuff.

kittebasu, if, somehow, you see this and would like an author copy, i would be honored to make one and ship it to you; i would be overjoyed to gift you with any art i have the ability to make, because the fics you wrote have irreversibly altered my brain chemistry, and being able to give back in any capacity would be a dream. (thank you.)

a few postscripts:

i am not selling any copies of this fic. partially because i believe in the gift economy of fandom as well as firmly keeping fanbinding a hobby that will stay unmonetized, but also because it took me months (years, if we are counting when i first finished the typeset) to finish this and i do not have the strength.

however, if you are also a fan of this fic and would like a copy, i honestly, fervently, encourage you to give fanbinding a try! renegade publishing and its discord server are an absolutely wonderful and free resource. i knew nothing about bookbinding and had zero materials when i first started, but i've learned so much thanks to the lovely people there. if you're still apprehensive about getting started, i'd be willing to share my typeset of this fic as well as answer any questions about the making of this book if you DM me.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Poison and Wine.

Pairing/Au: Javier Peña x f!reader

Words count: 1387

Rating: +18, NSFW

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, angst, smut, reader is described having breast and vagina, no other description of her is given (pic does not represent reader's appearance in any way, it is only aesthetic), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (please use protections irl), sad thoughts, yearning, unspoken love.

A/N: Another fic I wrote a year ago, revised a year later. English is not my first language and I have no beta. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are, please excuse me. Writing Javier is not easy for me, I don't know why, but I tried.

It's inspired by the song Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars. I recommend listening to it for maximum effect. Hope you enjoy, thanks for your time!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

You are in a small room. The moonlight comes in through the window, spreading across the floor in silvery streaks, leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. There is a bed in the center of the room, two nightstands on either side, a wooden chair in the corner with clothes haphazardly draped over it. Old curtains frame the sides of the window. The bed is covered with a red bedspread and cheap white sheets. The entire room smells of sex, cigarettes, and cheap deodorant.

On the wall opposite the bed is a small door that leads to a small, rather squalid bathroom. There is a man on the bed. He is lying on his back, his head resting on the pillow. He has short, thick, wavy raven hair, some tufts falling onto his high forehead. His eyes are closed, a strong, harmonious nose that blends perfectly with the rest of his face, shaved cheeks, pronounced cheekbones, full lips. The lower lip is slightly thicker than the upper one, covered by a pair of short, black, well-groomed moustaches, they’re parted, set in a sort of pout.

Neck relaxed, shoulders broad, arms stretched out at his sides, softly resting, hands open on the sheets. Regular breaths rise and fall on his chest, adorned with two small dark pink nipples, deliciously divided by the line of his sternum. His torso is almost completely hairless, except for a thin strip of hair that disappears into his black boxers. One of his legs is wrapped in the covers while the other is spread and the foot almost off the edge of the bed.

Your back rests on the pillow, which you have placed against the wooden headboard of the bed.

You've been watching him sleep for a while, he seems less worried in his sleep, less agitated by the urgency of not wasting time, of achieving the results he has set himself. There is always a tension in him, a restlessness that vibrates in his body. He is incredibly beautiful, you will never get used to how perfectly designed he is to make you lose your mind.

You are just a diversion, someone who calls to clear his mind, to chase away the horror he has to face every day. He never talks about his job but you are perfectly aware of what happens out there, you have seen it with your own eyes for as long as you can remember, you have lived here your whole life. The drugs, the corruption, the murders, the attacks, the bombs, have always been the backdrop to your life.

Most cops are corrupt, violent, double-crossing, you're used to not trusting them. There are few people who really try to do something good, like him. He was immediately kind and discreet, even if a certain cold detachment always remains.

You know he would never take advantage of you in a mean way. But you also know how he always sneaks out the door before dawn, making no promises, barely saying goodbye. You never know when he will call you again.

He takes what he needs and you are so eager to give it to him and he disappears like a ghost. Present in the moment, fleeting the next.

You know he asks you to meet him at these out-of-the-way motels because he’s afraid someone might follow you. You know it’s a way of protecting you as well as himself. But you can’t help but feel like you’re something small in his life, something not worth bringing into the light of day.

And you know you're already in awe, eager to have him, to taste him and feel his skin and his scent.

He smells like leather, cigarettes and tequila, with a fresh underlay of soap and men’s cologne.

You’re naked next to him, a heat still radiates from your lower abdomen and rises in your stomach.

You lie down on the bed, sighing, accompanying the pillow with your hands to slide it under your head.

Eyes on the ceiling, you’re trying to channel your emotions, without letting them crawl out of you.

You can make do with this. You can wait for him to wake up and you can tolerate him quickly picking up his clothes and leaving after a quick kiss on the lips. What he gave you before can be enough.

His hands running down your body.

Hands that can heal and can burn.

His lips in the crook of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin under your ear.

He pushed you, caging you between his body and the door, kissing you without saying a word. Flesh and teeth colliding.

He raised your arms above your head and his mouth trailed down your neck and chest, his mustache scratching you a little, his breath brushing your skin.

His impatient touch undressed you, his feverish fingers running down your tummy, lingering for a moment on the hem of your panties and then making room for them to look for your clit, drawing circles, making you vibrate.

He made you lie down on the bed, then took off his clothes and threw them on the chair.

He threw himself on you urgently, kissing your soft naked skin beneath him. He moved down between your legs to take care of your privates. His tongue was relentless, hungry, insistent as two fingers continued to rub your clit and his other hand was open on your hip. Your fingers were buried in his hair, your moans filling the silence along with his grunts of approval as he felt you tremble and melt for him.

His lips moved up to you, determined not to leave aside even an inch of your skin. You felt him everywhere on your body and you didn't care about anything else. He pulled you against him, wrapped one big, strong arm around your waist. Your breasts pressed against his chest, his cock poking at your entrance, stretching you an inch at the time, sinking into your warm, soaked cunt.

He moved slowly at first to let you get used to it, then harder, deeper. You felt his mouth widen into a smile on your skin as you repeated his name like a prayer.

Javier.

Javier.

Javier.

He held you tight to feel as much of you as he could, hammering your softest spot over and over again. He whispered in your ear, his voice deep, raspy, bouncing in your chest, in your brain, driving you crazy.

His jaw went slack, his eyes darker and full of lust as he came inside you, making you feel like you were one, painting your walls with his cum.

He didn't stop until he felt your pussy twitch and tighten around his cock, your head thrown back, your eyes closed, your mouth agape.

No one has ever made you feel this way, insatiable, overwhelmed by the need to have him more and more.

You are lost.

Empty.

You can't admit it.

You can't face it.

There is nothing you would like more than to feel important to him, someone who gives him peace of mind, someone who can always be by his side.

You know it will never happen but you can't stop wishing it would.

He wakes up. You look away, so as not to let him know that you were doing nothing but looking at him, in the vain hope of at least satiating your gaze, without success.

Javier.

He turns to you, strokes your arm and then sits on the bed, stretching.

He lights a cigarette, completely unaware of the battle raging inside you. He seems calm, relaxed, takes a drag and tosses the ash into the ashtray on the nightstand.

You want to shake him by the shoulders, tell him how hard it is every time you see him go, how painful it is. You want to ask him if he knows how he makes you feel. You do nothing, you just sit there, wrapped in the blankets, inhaling the sweet smell of his sweaty skin.

You smile weakly at him as he gets up, puts out his cigarette, gets dressed, gives you a quick kiss, and walks out the door.

Without saying anything, without promising anything, as usual.

I don’t love you, but I always will.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I LEAVE YOU

Synopsis: “Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.” (Also know as Inumaki Toge Tries To Tell You He Loves You, But It All Goes Terribly Wrong)

JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Inumaki x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: crack fic, secondhand embarrassment, miscommunication, mentions of sex toys/fetishes (non-explicit), megumi deserves damage pay, probably not lore-compliant, not at all to be taken seriously, characters are probably ooc tbh

A/N: i posted this literally two years ago on ao3 and it just occurred to me to put it on here LMAOAO anyways i obv wrote this a long time ago and it’s the most unserious ridiculous thing ever so please don’t judge me based on this fluffy goofy silly cracky nonsense i promise I’m better now!!

divider credits: @/benkeibear

The first emotion that spiked through you when you heard that the second years were back from their mission was relief. None of them were dead; anything else, you could deal with.

You had rushed to the infirmary, ignoring Nobara’s snickers. She alone knew who you was sprinting to see — your feelings for a certainupperclassman were highly secret, of course, but somehow she had found out, and of course she had, because she was Kugisaki Nobara, and nothing could really be kept secret from her for very long.

She had been urging you to do something, to make a move, citing that it “wasn’t like he had a lot of girls interested in him, anyways,” but you had always been too shy. You weren’t sure that you could handle a rejection, and it was hard to tell whether he was interested in you or just polite.

But your fear did not stop you from skidding to a stop in front of Shoko, giving her a wide-eyed stare, patiently waiting for her to tell you what was wrong with your friends.

“Did you need something?” she said. Obviously, her cursed technique had nothing to do with reading minds, but you still scowled at her for not knowing what you were thinking.

“The second years. Are…are they alright?” you said. She frowned, and this was your first clue that there was something less than alright going on with the trio.

“Well, they’re not permanently hurt, no,” she said. You sighed in relief — this was more than you could’ve hoped for. The curse that they had been sent to fight was obviously a strong one, and more than that, it was wily, with a rumored arsenal of techniques far beyond what you could even comprehend.

“That’s good,” you said.

“It is. They’ll all make a full recovery; Maki and Panda were barely impacted, anyways,” she said. Your blood ran cold at the name she didn’t mention.

“And Inumaki?” you said. If something had happened to him…you weren’t sure what you’d do. Probably cry. A lot.

“He’s fine, just a bit shocked. See, the curse managed to take his cursed energy from him, so until that’s been replenished, he’s just a normal person,” she said.

“Huh?” you said. “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” she said, ushering you into the infirmary, “I know that’s why you’re really here.”

Maki and Panda were nowhere to be found, and Shoko groaned, muttering about irresponsible children and telling you she’d be back with her patients in tow once more. This left you alone in the room with Inumaki Toge — at once your biggest dream and greatest fear.

You did not speak for the first few moments, far too nervous to open your mouth. He was buried in a mountain of pillows and blankets, soft blond hair falling in his violet eyes as he flipped through the pages of a book. His zipped up collar was nowhere to be seen; he only wore a plain white t-shirt, leaving his snake-fang seals visible. You had always thought they were pretty, so then your nerves were overtaken by infatuation with the elegant markings. The end result was the same: when Inumaki looked up, it was to you awkwardly standing in the room and watching him read.

“Hello,” he said. This made you pause and think.

“Hi?” you said.

“How are you doing?” he said. Now you really were confused.

“Not that I’m complaining, but can’t you…not speak?” you said. He set his book on his nightstand and sat up with a heavy sigh.

“Normally, I can’t. But as of right now, I can. That’s the effect of that curse we fought. I have the most cursed energy out of the three of us second years, so it drained mine, which means I’m unable to use my technique until my energy’s built up again. Shoko estimates it’ll be about a week,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. So Inumaki had one week of talking normally before he would be back to his usual limited speech. You wondered what he would think to say.

You had met Inumaki on your first day at Jujutsu Tech. He had helped you find your dorm room and then, via text, warned you about Gojo’s antics. Your crush had been born the very same day. He was so beautiful and kind that it was almost a no-brainer, really; though he could only speak in rice ball components, you didn’t even care. You found solace in swooning at him from afar, and every conversation you had ever had with him since then was filed away in a special corner of your mind, played on repeat whenever you were bored.

Nobara thought you were crazy when she found out, asking you if you had an ingredients fetish and then teasing you for a solid day by moaning tuna in your ear whenever she saw you. She only stopped because you started crying and begged Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs to chase her away if she got too close. The dogs were friendly enough and obliged, though you had had to buy Fushiguro several bags of candy for his troubles.

You could hear her voice in your ear right now as you stared at Inumaki, though it was thankfully not her moaning ingredients but rather her insisting that you say something. It was so easy; now, at least, he could reject you properly, with words instead of helpless frustration and a long-winded text about how you were nice, really, but he just thought of you as an annoying friend who didn’t leave him alone, and anyways, why would he ever like you?

“Can I tell you something?” he said before you could ask to do the same. Privately, you were relieved at this, for it meant you could procrastinate your confession a little further.

“What’s up?” you said, a small, childish hope arising in you that maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe he’d confess first, and then things would be very simple indeed. You allowed yourself to feel excitement building at this prospect.

“I…oh, man, how do I do this?” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a flush rising over his pale cheeks. “Ah, shit, I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could speak and having so many things to say but not the words to say them, and now that I finally can talk, I just don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s alright. You can take your time, I don’t mind,” you said politely. And you didn’t mind — whatever he had to say, you would wait around for years if you needed to in order to hear it. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll just come out with it, then!” he said, nodding determinedly before locking eyes with you, “I leave you.”

It suddenly felt like you were underwater, ears ringing. Your throat choked, and pathetic, childish tears blurred your vision. He was leaving. Inumaki, for whatever reason, was leaving. And not only was he leaving, he was leaving you in specific.

“R-really?” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it was awfully unconvincing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” He seemed embarrassed, now, averting his eyes, “No, why would you think that?”

“Well, you just said…” you trailed off helplessly.

“Oh. I thought you would be happy,” he said, his voice quiet, small, ashamed. He looked almost brokenhearted, though why he would be feeling hurt about this development, you could not be sure. He was the one making the choice to leave; you were the one fated to stay behind.

“Why would I be happy about that?” you said. He was dejected when he spoke next.

“Never mind. I don’t…I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said.

“I’ll still support you,” you said, steeling yourself to flash him a watery smile, “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Yes! Yes, please, please, I know I messed up by telling you this, but I don’t want us to stop being friends,” he said.

“I’m glad you told me, though. I’d rather not be left in the dark. Have you told anyone else yet?” you said.

“No, though I’m sure Panda suspects it,” he said before shifting uncomfortably to pull his blankets up and hide his face, “Can you, um, go? I want some time alone.”

“Right,” you said, “I’m glad you’re not hurt permanently.”

As you left, you thought you heard sniffles coming from the lump under the blanket, but if he really was crying, he gave you no other indication of it. You thought of lingering, of comforting him and asking him to comfort you, demanding he tell you the reason for his departure, but it was not your place. So, biting the inside of your cheek to hold your tears back, you marched towards Nobara’s dorm.

“He told you he’s leaving you?” she said, ten minutes later once you had explained to her the entire story. “How odd. And he hasn’t told anyone he’s transferring yet? Not even Gojo or Principal Yaga?”

“No,” you said, finding solace in her warm embrace, the scent of roses that wafted off of her skin, “I just don’t understand why he’s going.”

“It’s so strange. I mean, I really thought he liked you! Although, maybe he does. Think about it, you’re the first person he’s told, so clearly he trusts you a lot!” she said.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you said, “Regardless as to his reasons, it remains that he’s leaving me. At least he said we can still be friends, though.”

“Wait!” she said, and there was a conniving smirk on her face that spelled trouble, “I have an idea. Let’s throw a surprise going-away-party for him! Even if you don’t confess, at least it’ll show you care about him. And maybe we’ll be able to figure out why he’s leaving and where he’s going, too.”

“We have to do it before the end of the week, then, that’s when Shoko estimates his cursed energy will be back to normal and he won’t be able to talk anymore,” you said.

“I doubt you’d be complaining about that, Miss Ingredients Fetish,” Nobara said.

“I don’t have a fetish for ingredients!” you said, wriggling out of her hug and glaring at her.

“Oh, really? So you won’t get all hot and bothered if I say ‘salmon,’ right?” she said.

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Nobara, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” you said.

“Salmon,” she said, panting dramatically and clutching her chest. You threw a pillow at her, knocking her off of the bed in a fit of laughter.

“You suck,” you said.

“You swallow,” she shot back.

“Ugh! You’re hopeless!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“I’ll text the group chat to make plans for the party!” she said. You gave her the finger and stomped out of her room to go sit in your own and mope about the fact that Inumaki was leaving.

Really, this was probably a good thing. After all, with him gone, you didn’t have to worry about him accidentally finding out about your crush. And maybe you’d even be able to move on, though you had no idea who at this school would measure up to Inumaki.

Nobara’s plan was sound, though. A going away party would be perfect to wish him one final farewell — provided, of course, that you were able to keep it a secret from the boy. This was easier said than done, but you were determined. You would make Inumaki’s party an occasion to remember, but this meant you had to call in some help.

The first thing you did the next day was video call Okkotsu, who was currently in Africa, training with a sorcerer named Miguel. You had to track down Maki and beg her for his number; she had been very confused but had given it to you anyways.

This left you staring at your phone screen, praying he would pick up. Inumaki and Okkotsu were best friends, so it would be wrong to not tell the black-haired sorcerer about your plans. He also might have some insight as to where Inumaki was going and why he was leaving.

“Hello?” Thankfully, Okkotsu picked up, looking extraordinarily confused. There were dark circles under his eyes and a katana strapped to his back. Despite the fact that he looked battle ready, he was just sitting on a couch and shoving chips in his mouth. “Who is this?”

“Okkotsu, sir! This is Y/N, I’m one of the first years at Jujutsu Tech,” you said.

“Okay. Don’t call me sir, it’s weird and I’m only a year older than you. Is there a reason you’re calling me?” he said.

“Yes, there is. See, Inumaki —” you began before he cut you off.

“Ohhh, you’re that Y/N! Yeah, yeah, I completely approve,” he said.

“Did Nobara already tell you?” you said.

“No, Inumaki’s been telling me about this for months now! Who’s Nobara?” he said.

“Months? But we didn’t even start planning until yesterday,” you said.

“He’s been dreaming of this day since the beginning of the year, even video called me and everything! I don’t think I’ve heard him say ‘salmon’ as many times in a row ever before or since,” he said. Unbidden, you remembered Nobara’s actions from yesterday and shivered before shaking your head to clear such thoughts from your mind.

“Do you know why he…you know?” you said. If Inumaki really had been planning on leaving for so long, then certainly Okkotsu would know why. The boy hummed and nodded.

“Yeah, for sure! But it’s a little weird if I say it, you know? Against the bro code or whatever, and it’d feel a bit too much like I was trying to slide in, which I’m not! Just ask him, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to tell you. God, he must be so happy right now! I wish I could be there to see it,” he said.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. I’m throwing a surprise party in honor of the occasion, and I was wondering if you’d be able to come, or at least video call in,” you said. Each word Okkotsu uttered was like a stab in the heart, further reinforcing the fact that Inumaki really, really, really didn’t like you. Why else did he make plans to leave the literal day he had met you? You only wished he would’ve gone sooner so that your feelings did not build up and compound from a simple admiration into something greater, something beautiful and untouchable yet twisted and cruel.

“Sounds like a great time! Just video call me, I’ll be sure to pick up. And I’ll try to send something along as a gift, too! Damn, I know it’s not my news to be excited for, but it feels as though my heart’s going to burst!” he said, popping a final chip into his mouth before hanging up. You stared at the phone’s black screen for a second, marvelling at how this short conversation had made you feel even worse about the status of your relationship with Inumaki.

Before, you had believed that the two of you were friends, at least. You both had gotten along well enough — you would train together and slip each other notes with book recommendations. He had told you his favorite restaurant and described exactly the meal you should order, and you had introduced him to your favorite television series. Yet with the latest revelations that your discussion with Okkotsu had brought about, it was clear that all of this was Inumaki doing the bare minimum to tolerate you until the day he could leave.

Maybe he was glad that he could speak, if only for a short time. It allowed him to tell you in no uncertain terms that he was going away. If only he had elaborated back then! If only he had said that he felt such a way about you from the very start instead of leading you on with candy-sweet platitudes and feigned affection.

With Okkotsu’s presence now confirmed (and a gift apparently on the way), you moved on to the next thing you had to do in order to prepare for the party: recruit the other second years.

You decided to start with Maki. Though she was seemingly brusque, she was also a caring girl, and you knew she’d be thrilled to help throw a farewell party for one of her closest friends, even if she had not known he was leaving until just now.

As expected, she was properly enraged upon hearing the news.

“He’s leaving? Leaving where, exactly? The only place he’ll be going is hell, because I’m about to punch him so hard that that’s where he’ll end up!” she said, balling her fists, a vein popping in her forehead.

“Woah, hey, Maki! I don’t know where he’s going, but please don’t confront him. I don’t think he wants people knowing, and I want the party to be a surprise. He might get suspicious if he realizes that you know,” you said.

“Stupid idiot, won’t even tell his own classmates that he’s going,” she muttered, “I’ll keep your secret. But I will be committing violence at the party.”

“Please don’t!” you said, distressed at the thought, “I want him to have a fun final memory of Jujutsu Tech.”

Her eyes softened when she looked at you, and she nodded begrudgingly. “Alright. Your secret, and your party, are safe with me. I won’t tell a soul! Although, you know…a surprise farewell party would be a great place to confess your feelings.”

“How — how do you know about my feelings?” you said.

“Firstly, you’re not exactly subtle, the others are just really oblivious. Secondly, Nobara mayyyy have let something slip,” she said.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said.

“Don’t,” she said.

“No, I’m seriously considering it,” you said.

“If you do, I’ll ruin Inumaki’s party,” she threatened.

“Fine!” you whined like a child, “I’m going to go talk to Panda.”

The large bear was asleep in the sun when you reached him. You nudged him with your foot in an attempt to get him to wake up; thankfully, he did, blinking his beetle-dark eyes open sleepily and sitting up when he saw you.

“Panda, I need your help,” you said seriously once you were sure that you had his undivided attention.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Inumaki’s leaving, so I’m throwing him a party,” you said. Panda furrowed his brow, clearly trying to process this development.

“He is?” he finally said. You nodded, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, he literally told me as much! He was all like ‘I leave you,’ and it was kind of upsetting, actually,” you said.

“How interesting,” he said finally, and now there was mischief in his expression, “And you need my help with hosting a party?”

“I don’t know how much of a party it’ll be, exactly, I mean it’ll only be the first and second years, but yes, basically,” you said. He chuckled, rubbing his paws together menacingly.

“Excellent. Yes, I’d love to help! And it’s a surprise, right?” he said.

“Yes?” you said. He looked almost evil at this point, baring his teeth in his version of a smirk.

“Even better.”

With the second years thusly recruited and the first years taken care of by Nobara (you wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had over Fushiguro to convince him to join in on the festivities, but judging by the sour expression on his face when he RSVP'd to you, it had to be something), the guest list was complete. Panda assured you he’d get Inumaki to come without being obvious, and you were happy to entrust the task to him.

This left you to go shopping for party supplies, using Gojo’s credit card (Fushiguro had told you where it was hidden). You had convinced Nobara to stay behind, claiming that she needed to hold down the fort in your absence and get started on cleaning the room you’d use for the party. That was a lie, of course — you actually just didn’t want to take her shopping with you. If she came, you wouldn’t be back before midnight, and the party was supposed to be tonight.

“Where are you going?” Inumaki said. You almost screamed at the sound of his voice; you hadn’t expected him to just manifest out of nowhere, and especially not when you were trying to sneak out of the school in order to buy things for his surprise party.

“Shopping!” you said.

“Can I come? I feel like things were kinda left off weirdly last time we spoke, and I hoped we could try to fix them,” he said. You were unused to hearing him speak so many words at once, and you were mesmerised for a second before you mentally slapped yourself out of it.

“No! You cannot come. Sorry,” you said, feeling bad. You wanted nothing more than to talk with Inumaki, to talk and talk until your throat went dry and your words ran out, but if he saw what you were shopping for, then he’d catch on to the plan.

“Oh. Is it because I told you — ?”

“Absolutely not!” you yelped, cutting him off, not wanting him to get any ideas, “I’m shopping for personal things. Like tampons.”

“I don’t really mind that,” he said shyly, “I don’t think tampons are gross. I mean, they’re only plastic and cotton. I just really want to talk with you.”

“Sex toys!” you said.

“Um, what?” he said, taken aback. Your face was hot with embarrassment, but you needed him to understand that he was not allowed to come shopping with you. So you locked eyes with him and tried to repeat yourself.

“I am going shopping for, uh, you know…I mean, you heard me!” you said.

“Right!” he said, and he was so completely red you almost called him Clifford, “I’ll leave you to it, then! I guess we can talk later.”

You gave him a fake smile and a thumbs up, staying frozen in place until he had disappeared from sight. Then, with a wail, you called Nobara.

“I fucking told him I was shopping for sex toys!” you said, not even waiting for her to greet you like usual. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before someone cleared their throat.

“This is Fushiguro,” he said. You promptly hung up and cursed your luck. You should’ve sent Nobara to do the shopping. You really, reallyshould’ve sent Nobara.

That evening, as the sun set over the horizon and Panda distracted Inumaki, the rest of you decorated the room that Nobara and Yuji had cleared earlier in the day. Maki and Nobara were too busy whispering amongst each other to actually help, though, and you were hiding in the corner, too terrified of his reaction to even glance in Fushiguro’s direction. For his part, he did an excellent job of ignoring you, leaving him and Yuji to do the majority of the setting up.

When anxiety made it difficult to breathe, you began to fiddle with the projector, where Okkotsu’s face would be shown once he called in to the party. The green light was blinking, which meant that it was ready to go and was only waiting for you to connect your phone to it.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nobara soothed you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I think he’ll be thankful you planned something like this at all.”

“And I still think you should confess your feelings,” Maki said, adding her unwanted opinion, “Seriously! If he rejects you then it doesn’t matter, because he’ll just be leaving soon anyways. I think you should consider it.”

“She’s right,” Nobara said, “Here, maybe this’ll motivate you.”

She leaned in until her lips were barely brushing against the shell of your ear, cool breath tickling against your neck.

“What are you doing?” you said, unamused. She pitched her voice lower before speaking.

“Bonito flakes.”

“You little — stop doing that! I do not have an ingredients fetish!” you shouted, hitting her shoulder repeatedly. She burst into raucous laughter, tears of mirth gathering along her lash line.

“I’m going to have to request you to please stop talking about your intimate life in front of me, please,” Fushiguro said uncomfortably, “I already know far more than I ever wanted to.”

“Fushiguro, it wasn’t like that, I was shopping for party supplies! I only said the other thing to throw Inumaki off the trail,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, obviously not believing you but allowing you to pretend, “Whatever you say.”

“Shh! Panda and Inumaki are on their way!” Yuji said, interrupting the conversation by hushing all of you obnoxiously, “Everyone, positions!”

You all ducked behind various pieces of furniture, and one of Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before it melted into the shadows once more.

A second later, the door creaked open, revealing Inumaki and Panda’s silhouettes standing in the frame. From beside you, Nobara began to giggle, and you pinched her in an effort to get her to shut up. It worked, although it did have the unfortunate consequence of her pinching you back.

“What’s going on here?” Inumaki said, turning the lights on. As soon as he did, you all (with the exception of Fushiguro, of course) leapt out at him. He fell backwards in surprise, staring up at you through thick lashes.

“Surprise!” Yuji said.

“It’s not my birthday?” Inumaki said.

“Do you see a cake anywhere?” Nobara said, “This isn’t a birthday party, it’s a farewell party!”

“A farewell party? But who are we saying farewell to?” Inumaki said in confusion.

“You. Did you think we wouldn’t care about your departure? You idiot, we’re going to miss you so much!” Maki said, sniffing and wiping away a tear.

“Let’s all go around and share our favorite memories with Inumaki,” Yuji said. Inumaki seemed dumbfounded, so Nobara took the initiative to respond.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll go first — I really enjoyed the one time he let me paint his nails,” she said.

“I don’t have any good memories,” Fushiguro deadpanned, “But if I had to pick a tolerable one, it would be when I convinced him to use his Cursed Speech on Nanami.”

“I remember that!” Maki said, howling in laughter, “And I can’t pick a favorite memory. We just have too many good ones.”

“Same!” Yuji said, and he was bawling now for some reason, “You’re just so cool, Inumaki! I’m so sad that you’re going!”

“Y/N, what about you?” Maki said.

“Confess! Confess! Confess!” Nobara chanted, not even trying to be subtle about it anymore.

“Be quiet!” you said.

“Do it or I’ll do it for you!” she said. You looked around at the audience; they all seemed interested, even Fushiguro. Though you wanted to talk to Inumaki in a bit more of a private setting, Nobara and Maki were right in that this was the perfect time to say something. So, taking a deep breath, you faced the boy.

“Inumaki,” you said, “I know that I’ve been acting weird recently, ever since you told me you’ll be going, but that’s because I don’t want you to. See, the truth is that I love you. I think I have for a while now, and I’m going to miss you, and I don’t want you to go, so please don’t. Please stay.”

He blinked. “Huh? What do you mean? I never said I was going anywhere.”

“Yes you did!” you said, pointing at him accusingly, “I remember it! That day in the infirmary!”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere, I said I leave you!” he said.

“That’s the same thing!” you said indignantly, “You’re getting upset about semantics when I just confessed that I love you, idiot! Doesn’t that even mean anything to you?”

“No? I’ve never heard of that word before!” he said.

“Love? You’ve never heard of love before?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“L-O-V-E. Love. That rings no bells?” you said. His face suddenly went snow-white.

“L-O-V-E is pronounced…love?” he said.

“How the hell else would it be pronounced?” you snapped, feeling far too bewildered and irritated to soften your words. How could he have treated your feelings so flippantly? How did he just not understand love?

Inumaki suddenly found the floor incredibly fascinating. “...leave.”

“What?” You said.

“What?” he said innocently.

“OH MY GOD!” Nobara squealed, catching on far quicker than you, “You both are idiots!” Finally, you began to understand, and then you were inclined to agree with her.

“So you’re not going anywhere?” you checked.

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“He hasn’t been able to speak for practically his entire life,” Panda said, shoulders shaking with laughter, “Can you blame him if he mispronounces a couple of words now and then? It’s not like anybody’s ever corrected him before.”

Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.

“You’re not leaving,” you said again, drawing closer to him, “You’re not leaving me.”

“I won’t ever leave you if you don’t want me to,” he said, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug.

“Don’t,” you said, “Please don’t.”

“I love you. That’s what I meant to say all along,” he said.

“I guess I threw this whole party for nothing, then,” you said, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Is this what you were shopping for earlier? Not…the other things?” he said.

“Yeah. It was just a surprise, so I didn’t want you coming along,” you said, feeling bashful at how entirely silly the entire affair had ended up being. He let out a warm, gentle laugh that caused his chest to vibrate against your cheek.

“It’ll be hard, you know. Once this week is over, I’ll be back to only speaking in rice ball ingredients,” he warned.

“That’s probably for the best. Less room for misinterpretation,” you said.

“Plus, she has an ingredients fetish!” Nobara chimed in. You withdrew from the safety of Inumaki’s shirt to scowl at her.

“Enough with the ingredients fetish!”

A knock at the door interrupted the tense showdown; Panda opened it to reveal a delivery man, who was holding a package and fidgeting, probably out of fear, considering he was face to face with a giant, sentient panda.

“I have a package from an Okkotsu Yuta, addressed here?” he said. You slapped your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot about him! Thank you,” you said, accepting the box and then quickly calling Okkotsu.

“Hey, guys!” he said cheerily. His phone must have been set up against the wall of a building or something, because it showed him busy using his katana to exorcise curses and not even breaking a sweat, “Sorry, this isn’t a great time, but congratulations on getting together! I hope you like your present — hey! Stay away from the iPhone!” The screen abruptly went dark as a curse swiped at Okkotsu’s cell phone, knocking it down while the sorcerer snarled.

“Open the present!” Yuji said excitedly.

Inside of the box were two bright pink t-shirts. Both of them had white lettering on them — one said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Best Friend Foreverand the other said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Girlfriend-in-Law.

You all stared at them, expressions varying from amusement to delight to horror. You didn’t even question how Okkotsu had known that you and Inumaki would confess to each other. Clearly, he already thought you both were together, so it was really just divine timing in that sense.

Somewhere in Africa, Okkotsu finished exorcising the curses and sheathed his katana, casting aside his jacket to reveal a bright pink shirt that said on it in white lettering, I’m Okkotsu Yuta.

“Maybe they’ll let me third wheel,” he mused to himself, “I mean, they had better, considering how hard these shirts were to find at the thrift store.”

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Toxic Love

Yandere Male Cherub x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Stalking, magical mind manipulation, religious themes, dub-con, general yandere behavior, smut) Word Count: 1.3k (A long time ago I had written a similar piece to this, but I deleted it because there was a request on another blog, that i had not seen until after I wrote my piece, that looked like it had heavily influenced my fic. Now I have reworked and added smut in celebration of Valentine’s Day. I hope you all enjoy. I apologize for any mistakes I forgot that it was going to be Valentine’s Day until just a few hours ago.) 

Celael was a cherub. There were many cherubs, more commonly known as cupids. None of them looked like little flying babies though. Most actually had long hair, one set of wings, and skin in varying tones of pink and sometimes lavender or even red. Celael’s wings were a pastel pink, matching his skin tone, but his shoulder length hair was light lavender and his eyes were a passionate crimson red. Most cupids were happy with their existence, taking both pride and joy in their work, spreading love among the humans. But Celael was not happy at all. Through the countless years of diligently carrying out assignments, matching humans together, and keeping the love flowing for mortals he became more and more empty until he was pretty much running on autopilot. Just going through the motions. A void was festering within him that he failed to understand. Co-workers and friends did nothing to fill it, his job seemed a cruel mockery. He influenced the hearts and minds of humans until they were filled to the brim with love, but he could do nothing for his own ever withering soul. But he kept doing his sacred duty. But then one day he got an assignment to set up a cook in a little restaurant with a co-worker and when he went to go pierce each one of their hearts with a set of bonded arrows to push their hearts towards love he suddenly realized what he was missing. That cook he was supposed to match together with a waiter was you. And you were just exactly what he was missing. Every time he gazed upon you his heart beat faster and his palms grew sweaty, was this what love was? And just like many humans that didn’t need a supernatural push he was experiencing this all entirely without arrows. He decided to observe you to be sure, he knew how love worked and he wanted to be sure of his emotions. Celael was entirely invisible to you as he stalked you, watching you at all hours of the day. He loved the way you nervously stammered when talking to your boss. He loved the way you carried yourself, all shy but determined to do your best. And most of all he loved how you treated others, without an ounce of malice in your heart, though it made him worry that someone could take advantage of you, and that thought is what sealed the deal. You needed someone to keep you safe, someone stronger than another mere mortal. Someone like… an angel. After all, your co-worker could not do a fraction of what he could do for you. He could let you know safety in the paradise of heaven. And why shouldn’t he, your designated match was a mortal the same age that you were, but he was as old as time! He had paid his dues, served humanity for countless ages, didn’t he deserve you a whole hell of a lot more? He thought so. So he formulated a plan and set it into action, he had to get you to have just a small amount of feelings for him. That’s how the arrows worked, there had to be something there naturally for them to work off of. And this would also give him a chance to know you better than he had ever known any human, or anyone at all for that matter. Celael donned a human disguise. His wings were gone, his eyes became brown, his skin slightly tan, and his hair black. He, under the name Cel, applied for the position of waiter that had opened up after your inconsiderate co-worker just disappeared, seemingly walking off the job in the middle of break and never returning without ever mentioning it to anyone. Over the course of weeks and then months Celael became your absolute best friend, you confided everything in him and trusted him completely. You were practically attached at the hip and could always be seen together. Just when you thought you might be starting to have the slightest whisper of feelings for him you felt a pain in your heart and collapsed. With only a brief flutter of wings Celael whisked you off to his little corner of heaven, it was a cozy cottage on a large floating island that was surrounded by a pink sky. The amorous cupid placed you on his comfortable bed and waited for you to wake. When you did finally rise from your magically induced slumber he could tell by the way that you looked at him that everything he had done had worked flawlessly. He had shot you with some extremely strong and illegally crafted love and lust arrows to make you only have eyes for him. You saw Cel upon opening your eyes and your heart immediately fluttered while your crotch felt a bit warm, but there was something wrong. He had wings and odd hair and skin, and this wasn’t your bed. You looked up at Cel and started to question him but he closed the distance between the two of you and leaned in for a kiss, pushing everything else to the back of your mind as all of your conscious thoughts were consumed with your focus on him. He disrobed you and rubbed your thighs gently before kissing a trail up them to your crotch and using his mouth on your sex. You stroked his pretty hair and silently moaned and gasped, unable to form words because your need for him was so deep. Celael, who you still only knew as Cel gently guided you into missionary position and aligned his large cock with your hole before sliding in fully in one smooth motion. Now it was Celael’s turn to gasp, in his many years of life this was his first time giving in to carnal desires, never had he known a greater pleasure than when he slipped into you. He took his time, this was a delicate and wonderful act that was surely meant to be savored, he slowly thrust in and out of you as he tenderly licked and kissed from your neck to your lips, He planted a deep kiss to your lips and moaned into the kiss. He was sloppy, but passionate, you could practically fill the emotions radiating off of him and you matched them perfectly. You had never felt like this before, so dizzy, so lost in the moment, but you were with Cel and that was all that mattered. He bit and sucked gently at your nipples before putting you into a mating press and going quite a bit faster, but not ruthlessly. The cherub continued at a good pace until right before you both came, when he slammed his lips into yours so you could share a kiss as twin orgasms racked both of your bodies. He draped his wings over you while holding you tight, happy tears in his eyes as he beheld you. That festering void that had been within him so long had at long last been filled. A bit of the fog that had been building in your head during the intimate act started to disperse and you had so many questions but seemingly as if reading your mind Celael shushed you as you began to open your mouth. “Not now my beloved, we can talk in the morning, right now let’s just rest okay?” You murmured your agreement and the angel repositioned you both so that you were both on your sides with him behind you. He spooned you with an arm and a wing draped over you as his large cock slid back inside of you, it did not take long for him to drift into a blissful sleep and even though you felt something was really off you gave into love for him and fell asleep beside him.

[sansundertale14x1]

why NauseAxe_404 loves your writing so much…

based on this silly tweet, I’m gonna use ‘Nick’ for this- for ease of writing (and for my poor poor hands.)

no pronouns but ‘you’- little post cuz I haven’t written in a while.- use of the in-game website: "Dumblr", no it's not a typo;-; Proshippers DNI

word count: 878

content warning: brief explanations of canon violence, creepy stalker-ish behavior (NOTHING SEXUAL ATTACHED), Nick being a weirdo honestly.

vvv that isn't my art, and this entire writing is a fanfic for a game " Monster x Mediator" made by HeadLocker! I really recommend playing the game or watching the gameplay, cuz it's really fantastic!

Story under cut :3

Nick’s in love with your writing…(if you already couldn’t tell), but it’s difficult for you to understand why.

Usually, when you'd open up your laptop, it was after a tough shift at your crap job and you just wanted to do something to fill in the time after dinner and before bed. It was always on the shorter side, 100 words each, and was normally just a quick and crappy self-insert fic to satisfy your creative urges from doing a boring-ass job all day. You never really thought your tiny one-shots would attract any attention, but the man you've been staying with proves otherwise.

"NauseAxe_404" is what he called himself, but you've just been calling him 'Nick' for now. He had been reading your old Dumblr blog for who knows how long, and he's taken a major interest in your little shitposts...So much, so that he had taken the time to print out every single one of your posts and personal information pinned to his room's walls. It's extremely creepy...but also sort of charming?

For the last few days or so, you've been held in Nick's hotel room, practically glued to a desk with a typewriter...slowly making your way through a 100-paged fic that he specifically requested of you. Though you technically could stand up and leave...you'd really prefer for your skull to stay in one piece...and not have a bullet put through your temple.

Nick has been staring at you almost the entire time...which only certified in your mind that he is not human. Every time you turn to see if he's still there...like an unmoving fortress, he always is. It's been a solid 8+ hours of you sitting there and writing...and your stomach starts to emit loud sounds of hunger. You pray he didn't hear that, and continue to type away at the dated machine. However, to your dismay, his deep voice chimes in.

"...What page are you on...?"

Nick asks, seemingly trying to speak quietly for you, but his naturally booming voice isn't giving you any favors.

"...uhm..."

You take a moment to review what you have done...it doesn't look like much but it feels like it took AGES to write out...

"About...10? It's not a-"

"That's wonderful, Superstar!"

He cuts you off just as you begin to speak.

Of course, he's going to be ecstatic. You can't fathom why he seems to be so hopelessly in love with whatever you slap on the paper. You're curious..so you begin to speak.

"...uhm...Nick...why do you..take interest in my writing?"

You softly speak, trying to be careful with your words...you can't afford to overstimulate this man.

For a chatty guy...Nick was oddly silent at the ask of this question…or at least for a few seconds.

“I was trying to find a way to ease the boredom and loneliness of this fucking hotel, so…huff…I joined Dumblr and started to search for writing…that was…huff….purposeful…and that could fix me..”

No way in hell your crackfics could change this man...He must've come out of the womb like that. (or...however the hell he was made..)

"...I came across your first post years ago..huff...and fell in love with the way you wrote your love interest....huff...I knew you were talking about me when I wrote all those comments~"

You never looked at comments due to embarrassment...and you honestly didn't think anyone would even care to comment in the first place.

"....you weren't responding to me...huff...so I might've found everything about you in the meantime...huff...just so I could notice you in a crowd...I always will~"

Okay, now it's getting creepy. You hope that by just turning back around and continuing to write maybe he'd shut up...You guess it's sorta your fault for striking up a conversation with the creep.

"All the other writers don't know shit about writing...huff...1k word counts...huff...long and complicated stories that don't make any fucking sense..."

There goes the rambles. You stop typing for a moment to process what the hell he just said. He either is really balls-deep into this fantasy of you being a perfect human...or he's just trying to fluff you up so you'll continue writing for him. He's really delusional, that's it. It's seriously hard to believe your crap was life-changing for Nick.

“Simplicity is the most important part…huff…not describing some stupid walk sequence for 3 sentences…huff…it’s a waste of space..”

"....maybe you just like simpler writing...?"

You softly reply, yet again praying that you didn't accidentally strike a chord with this guy. He stares you down, and even if you aren't looking back at him, you can still feel the burning of his eyes on the back of your head.

"That's possible."

Oh, it's highly probable. He gets so emotional over the tiniest bit of anything, so...He just doesn't need too many words to evoke a reaction...It checks out because you also like to write a straight-to-the-point sorta piece.

"but don't let your mind wander for...huff...too long...my superstar...you've got at least 90+ pages to go~"

Shit, he was right...time to get back to work.

[tinytennisskirt]

TINYTENNISSKIRT PERSONAL FAVES & PERSONAL SUMMARIES (CHALLENGERS)

summarizing my favourite fics that I've written so maybe if you haven't read them, you find reason to. Not in any specific order.

More Than Anything- Art Donaldson

I love this one a lot personally. It was a request and although I had to stretch to make ends meet, I am a huge fan of friends to lovers. I love childhood best friend! Art so much. He's a cutie. But thats what this is, childhood best friends to lovers but the platonic doesn't change. It just alters. The miscommunication, the misunderstanding of Patrick's words to reader are hurtful and they change things but Art fixes it and brings it all back together? I was already in love. It's worse. A kiss ending with a HUG ending is a weakness for sure.

Cottage Culture- Art Donaldson

It's an Art fic but it definitely doesn't lack Patrick. I love the dynamic I wrote for reader and the boys- its very established that they are long time friends and are very comfortable with each other. There's a lot of casual touching which means a lot to me. I love it. But Art who has feelings ugh love him for it. It's that thing with the trio where the connection between reader and Art is just a little bit more intimate in the ways that matter. Just a hint, but it makes so much difference. Plus a kiss in the water? Need. This fic takes place at a cottage away from the world and takes place over the course of a few days, so there's so many instances of attraction and so many POVS. It's also very summery so if you're feeling like a cottage getaway with your two fav challengers boys, this is perfect.

Let It Linger- Art Donaldson

I think I'm probably most proud of this fic. It took forever to write and I actually gave up twice, but it got completed. It's like an AU of the movie itself, but it bounces back and forth like a tennis ball on a court from Art's time at MRTA to post-canon divorced! Art who is searching for his old best friend at their 15 year high school reunion. I really really love this one because it's very friendship and yearning oriented. How close reader and Art get to being together before they fall out and into no contact for fifteen years but he sees her again and talking to her again feels like no time has passed? Finding out that fifteen years ago, reader liked him too? I really like writing super non-romantic romantic scenes like the simple things and the simple conversations between reader and Art that are so specifically somehow intimate though they're trying to make it feel like it's not. It's friends to lovers but in a way that isn't exactly satisfied. It's honestly so fucking good, I loveeee this one.

Sweetheart- Patrick Zweig

an AU where Patrick is a girl dad is just the perfect universe. He's a single dad in a cluttered house with an absolute angel genius of a daughter and reader is considerably younger than him. She's twenty, he's nearing forty. It's not inherently romantic at first, it's just banter, but he's soooo dirty. He can't help but think about her in a way that isn't exactly holy. And she's got some semi-innocent crush on him. He goes on dates but every night he comes home and has his little bits of banter with her and things get increasingly harder to manage over time. He might actually like her which is crazy, but I never specifically wrote that he does like her in any way that isn't sexual because I wanted the reader to kind of be in the not-knowing because why would anyone expect his character in this to be ACTUALLY into the twenty-year-old babysitter? This one is a smut and it's honestly really tasty and rough, but the ending is what is supposed to get you like 'ah, I see. feelings.'

Best Friend Patrick Zweig who is Totally Not In Love With You

This was my second headcanons list and I somehow ended up giving it a plot, so it's not just headcanons. It's a list of things Patrick does as your best friend who has feelings for you. The list format is loose, it's a headcanon and then it's like... written dialogue underneath the headcanon to explain it so it's more engaging. I really enjoyed tapping into my autism like 'yeah, he'd do that'. It's got all the good stuff like some jealousy, some quiet yearning, He's repressing his feelings which I love because it's so him. He and reader have a good dynamic and it's NOT ONLY x reader but it's also NOT ONLY headcanons. It's a good mix!!!

Those Three Words- Patrick Zweig

I'm honestly a little unreasonably obsessed with this one. It was such a small but well-written request I just HAD TO make it extra. I honestly never really plan out the way my fics go other than knowing the basics. But the aspects are always just as I go. Patrick going from a player to set on ONE girl for the first time in his life is wild and crazy and he likes her and gets her number but they're friends for months before they start dating. Reader becomes one of his best friends and it's lovely and fun and he's so into her. Surprisingly so. Like even takes him by surprise but it's so fun to write Patrick who is actually IN LOVE for the first time WHAT SO CRAZY. I love domestic life kinds of romance and yeah he says I love you so soon, but he means it. And he gets a bit of a monologue and it's funny and he's soft with her which I love and adore.

Just some behind the scenes thoughts. All fics are linked at their titles! Also just a sly little reminder that I LOVEEEEE comments. Your thoughts and feedback mean the world to me. Also, requests are open always <3333