#Oh Sister Do You Hear My Pain ?

[eevvvaa]

Oh Sister, Do You Feel My Pain ?

Summary : After weeks free of hunts and monsters, Dean is starting to be bored to death. So when his brother told him about Adriana Baker’s death, he jumped on the occasion, ready to discover Sacred Heart, Minnesota and the mourning sister there, Metra.

Characters : Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Metra Baker (OC), Marcus (OC), Zoey Martin (OC)

Words : 16 776

Warning : Death, angst, a little bit of fluff and language.

A/N : This is my slightly late participation to @avanatural​‘s 1000 followers celebration (I promise, I will be on time for the next one 🙈). Congratulations my friend !! 🥳1000 is an incredible amount of followers and I’m so happy for you, you deserve all the followers in the world because you’re an amazing writer and deserve all the love and visibility ! Be proud of yourself ! 💕

My prompt was :  “Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?” and my song was Poison by Alice Cooper (the lyrics used are in italic). I loved the edition you decided to do and it was a real challenge for me ! I hope you’ll like it ! 😘💕

Dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics​

Masterlist

“Ugh, please tell me you’ve got something.” Dean complained as he walked into the magnificent library of their Bunker, two beers in his hands : one for him and the other for his brother.

Sam chuckled at the sight of his older brother slumping onto a chair in front of him and letting a long, dramatic sigh of annoyance out. The older hunter was bored, impatient of going back on a case after almost two weeks of radio silence from the monsters, no call from Jody or even Garth for help, not even Castiel needed help on the Heaven situation he was facing. It was as though monsters had stopped killing people just to annoy him : it was working.

Putting the bottles on the table, Dean pushed one towards Sam and the tall man grabbed it, placing it next to his laptop without bringing it to his lips for a sip. Dean, on the other hand, took a large gulp while putting his cleaned boots on the wooden table. He had been so bored lately that he had even taken the time to clean his shoes from all the dried dirt and blood on them. Sam on the other hand had spent hours sitting in the library, relentlessly trying to find a case worth their time, the desire to go save people and hunt things growing in him as quietness from the monsters increased.

Luckily for the green-eyed hunter, his focused and sleepless brother may have found a possible case for them.

“Well, it may be not a case bu-” Sam started, straightening as he began to explain to his brother but Dean quickly interrupted him.

“Oh it will be.” He declared, eager to jump on the first case available. Sam let a soft scoff out before clearing his throat and continuing, hoping that his brother wouldn’t interrupt him again. He hated when he did.

“As I was saying, it may not be a case per se but a woman, Adriana Baker, was found dead in her apartment. According to the police report, she was ‘chocked to death and had her eyes and tongue removed’. She was living with her younger sister, Metra, she was the one finding her body.” Sam explained and seemed to have picked the older man’s attention as he straightened, attentively listening to what his brother had to say. “So, either it was a brutal homicide…” Sam continued, raising his eyes from the screen to look at his brother.

“Or it’s a case for us.” Dean finished his sentence and Sam nodded, letting him know that it was what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” Sam breathed out, resting his back against the chair again and bringing his beer bottle to his lips.

“Where did you say it happened again?” Dean asked and the taller hunter held himself back from replying that he actually hadn’t mentioned the town where the girl was killed. Once the urge of correcting his brother was gone, Sam answered his question.

“Sacred heart, Minnesota.”

“Well.” Dean started, putting his feet back on the floor. “Minnesota it is.” He declared, rising up from the chair and heading to his room to pack his bag.

Sam looked one last time at the police record before closing his laptop and imitating his brother’s action, going to his own bedroom to get his belongings.

“He shouldn’t have written ‘removed’ those eyes were like completely turned into dust.” Dean declared, playing with the button of the jacket of his suit and slightly enjoying the light wind of June as he walked to the Impala and away from the police station.

Walking next to his brother, Sam slightly nodded, thinking about the body they had just examined. Indeed, Adriana’s eyes hadn’t been cut off, no blood remained on her empty orbits, contrary to her tongue that had been brutally ripped off and had left her mouth full of blood.

Once they reached the car, the brothers leaned against the vehicle, watching each other from each side of the car.

“Do you think it could be a rogue angel or something?” Sam asked, doubting his own theory. Dean shrugged at the question before shaking his head, disagreeing with the idea.

“Nah, they weren’t properly burnt, they looked more…” The older hunter started, looking for a way to describe what had happened to the poor woman’s eyes.

“Disintegrated?” Sam tried even though he was pretty sure it was the right word to characterize what they had seen. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at him, showing him that it was indeed what had probably happened. Sam let a little smile reach his lips, happy to be right.

Entering the black car, the two brothers took their respective places, Dean not turning the engine on yet, playing with the keys a little.

“So, what are we going with? A witch?” Dean asked, raising his eyebrows, and Sam took a second to think about it. It could be. They were no signs of actual struggles, not even traces of hands or cord strangling her. It was as though she had just choked on air, her throat tightening on their own and preventing her from inhaling oxygen. A hex bag could do that, just like it could make her eyes turn into dust. The only thing out of place was the tongue. The brutality used to remove it required a person, a spell couldn’t do that, someone had had to rip it off, not even cutting it out.

“Maybe. We should go talk to the sister, maybe she saw or heard something she didn’t want to mention to the police. I’ll take a look around the house, see if there is any hex bag around.” Sam told his brother who immediately nodded and turned on the engine, driving away from the police station and to the victim’s place.

The ride to Adriana’s house was short, the town being a small one, everyone and everything was close to one another. So even though her home was on the other side of the town, the brothers arrived in thirteen minutes. It was true that the older Winchester had a tendency to exceed the speed limits but even if he had respected them, they wouldn’t have taken more than twenty to get there.

Parking in front of the small, white house, Dean took his fake badge out of his internal pocket and checked it, making sure he was going to say the right name when he would introduce himself. Turning off the car, he put back the badge in his jacket as his brother was already looking at the front door, taking a second to analyse the front of the house and the flowers and grass in the alley to it. He frowned for a second when he noticed the dead flowers, as though they were completely dehydrated when they were supposed to be flourishing. The grass was a tern yellow, leaning towards brown, when it was supposed to be a bright green. It had rained in the area and even if it was early summer, nature wasn’t supposed to be dead or burnt yet.

“Dean?” Sam called, making his brother turn his head towards him.

“Yeah?” The older man raised his eyebrows in questioning and looked at his brother whose face was turned towards the house. Dean wondered why he had called him until Sam pointed to the dying nature with his head.

“Look at the flowers.” Sam simply said and Dean narrowed his green eyes, observing the desiccated blossoms. When he realized they were abnormally dead, the hunter raised his eyebrows and hummed.

“Well, that’s weird. Last time we saw that, it was with the crazy witch-couple, remember? The dead flowers in front of the husband’s statue?” Dean said and his little brother nodded, remembering this case too.

“Yeah. Maybe we are dealing with a witch, then.” Sam said, glancing at his big brother who was now staring at the house.

“Let’s find out.” Dean exclaimed, wiggling a single time his eyebrows and exiting his beloved car, closing the driver’s door behind him.

Sam and Dean headed to the quiet house in front of them, no neighbors outside of the houses nearby, silence surrounding them except for the light breeze of fresh, warm air landing on their faces and making Sam’s hair float a little. With a few large steps, the two tall men reached the front door, Dean raised his hand and knocked on it, waiting a few seconds until a medium-sized woman opened the door. A bit of curiosity and carefulness in her deep brown orbs, she eyed the hunters, wondering who those men were and what they were doing at her house.

“Hi, I’m Agent Buxton, this is Agent Dunaway, FBI.” Dean introduced his brother and he, showing their badges to the brown-haired girl in front of them, some reddish highlights in them. “We wanted to ask you a few questions about your sister and what happened.” He continued, refocusing on the reason for their visits instead of the beautiful woman in front of him.

“Oh.” She quietly said, a sadness veiling her brown eyes at the simple mention of her sister throwing her back in grief.

“May we come in?” Sam asked, trying to be as polite and as empathetic to establish some kind of trusting link with the witness.

“Sure.” She nodded and moved away, opening the door so the fake FBI agents could enter her home. They offered her a quick smile and got in the house.

Taking a few steps ahead of them, the brothers looked around, spotting a few pictures of the sisters in frames resting on a chest of drawers in the hall and on the walls. Turning their heads, they saw a tidy library in the living room on their left, an open book resting on the couch. In front of them was a stair leading to the bedrooms and restroom. Everything was quiet and neat, the brothers didn’t know it but Metra had spent hours cleaning and tidying everything in the house to focus her mind on anything else but the death of her sister.

“I was making coffee, would you like some?” Metra offered and Dean quickly nodded, appreciating the offer.

“With pleasure.” He answered and the woman led them to the kitchen on the right. Placing herself behind the counter where the coffee maker was, she put herself on her tiptoes and took three cups in a closet behind her. Then, turning around, she placed them on the counter and filled them with hot coffee, handing two of them to the agents on the other side of it.

“Thanks.” The older one said while Sam simply smiled in appreciation, taking the cup without bringing it to his lips.

“Please, take a seat.” The brown-haired woman gestured to the table behind them, following her own advice and sitting on one of the chairs. The brothers followed her lead and sat at the table too, observing the woman focused on the steam leaving her cup of coffee.

“Miss Baker, we’re sorry for your loss.” Sam started and she nodded, closing her eyes in pain and sorrow.

“Thank you…” She whispered as an answer and Dean offered her a compassionate smile when he heard her slightly broken voice.

“Miss Baker,” Dean started and she raised her head, her brown eyes finding his green ones, a piece of her hair falling from behind her ear.

“Please, call me Metra.” She asked and he nodded, letting a little smile reach his lips before refocusing on his question.

“Metra. Did you witness any strange behavior in your sister on the day she died?” He asked, feeling sorry for the woman in front of him as she winced.

Dean didn’t know any other way to ask this, even after years of hunting, confronting the witnesses to the recent deaths of their loved ones wasn't something easy to do. But once the pain of the words slightly passed, Metra took a breath and shook her head at him, ready to answer.

“Excuse me.” She tried to say, lightly sniffing as the tears slowly started to stop.

“Hum, no, no. She was normal, smiling and joyful. She was always so joyful…” She whispered the end of her sentence, some tears reaching her sad eyes. She tried to keep the tears at bay as long as possible but the more the minutes passed, the harder it was to keep her emotions hidden.

Letting a hiccup of grief escape, she quickly brought her hand to her mouth, trying to cover the sounds.

Looking to his right, Dean spotted a box of tissues next to his brother and with a movement of his head, he made Sam understand to give him one. The tall man grabbed a tissue and handed it to his brother who quickly took it and offered it to the mourning woman.

“Here.” Dean caught her attention and she rapidly accepted it, welcoming his warm smile.

“Thank you.” She said, using the tissue and taking a deep breath to regain her composure.

“Did your sister have any enemies? Has she been in conflict with someone recently?” Sam took over the interrogations, hoping that the woman could give them any kind of hints on who could have done this to Adriana.

Shrugging, Metra wrapped her hands around the warm cup of coffee.

“Hum, no, not really.” She started, shaking her head before stopping herself. “Well… she was always a bit in competition with Zoey. Actually, Zoey was the one wanting to compete with my sister. She’s always been jealous of her but Adriana never really thought too much about it, she wasn’t one to bother arguing over a better grade or boys.” Metra explained, a little lost in thoughts as she recalled the many arguments Zoey had tried to have with her sister. She envied her sister’s success so much that she would rather get into a fight with her than try to achieve something on her own.

“And Zoey is…” Dean started, not finishing his sentence so she could explain to them who Zoey was.

“Oh, she is a girl in town. Adriana and her went to the same school. It’s a small town, everyone knows each other here.” She explained and the boys nodded.

“Did Zoey’s jealousy ever lead to an actual confrontation? Maybe in the last few days?” Sam tried and Metra’s eyes quickly looked to the right, searching in her mind and suddenly remembering something, she nodded.

“Miss Baker, can I take a look in your sister’s room? This is where you found her, right?” He asked even if he knew for sure that it was. He had read the police report enough time to even be aware of the position she was found in, the pictures of her dead body printed in his brain.

“Yeah, three days ago, Adriana came back upset from work. She said something about a girl having to put an end to all this childishness. She didn’t say much or her name but now that I think about it, it’s possible that she was talking about Zoey.” Metra explained and the brothers nodded, both of them making a mental note to talk to this Zoey later.

Clearing his throat, Sam brought the attention back to him and slightly pushed his chair, ready to get up.

Metra’s eyebrows furrowed for a second at the request.

“Hum, I’m sorry to ask you this but, why? The police already searched her room and took most of her stuff.” The woman asked and Sam rapidly, quicker than a second, clenched his jaws.

He never liked when witnessed and victims questioned his or his brother’s actions. It was already bad enough that they were impersonating federal agents, so he always tried as much as he could to avoid questioning of this type. But he also understood those people not wanting to go through another interrogation, another police research.

Offering her a light smile, Sam answered her query.

“I know, but I just wanna take a look around. See if I can find something they’ve missed. It's a routine procedure.” He explained and she nodded. They were the professionals after all. Who was she to question their methods?

“Sure. Hum, it’s upstairs. First door on your left. Do you mind if I don’t…” She didn’t know how to finish her sentence. It had been difficult for her to even pass in front of her sister’s door for the past few days, she had even considered staying in a motel room for a few days, so she didn’t feel like escorting the agent to her sister’s crime scene.

Sam understood what she meant and quickly nodded, raising a calm hand, a gesture to let her know to stay seated.

“Of course.” He declared before leaving the kitchen, not without sending a quick glance to his brother who was going to stay and keep company with their host, using this time to ask her more questions.

Walking upstairs, Sam observed the house, looking at the pictures on the walls. Each one of them contained the two sisters, sometimes what looked like their friends joined them in their poses and one time, what could be a boyfriend was kissing Adriana’s cheek. He made a note to ask Metra about who he was. If it was a witch, everyone could be a suspect. But for now, he wasn’t even sure that it was this kind of supernatural being.

Turning on the left, Sam opened the first door and found himself in a large room. Not much furniture was in the victim’s bedroom, a bed, a desk, a large wardrobe and an old stereo system. Taking a few steps inside and closing the door behind him, he took a quick look at the equipment and thought to himself that better and newer ones existed now, but it wasn’t the reason why he was there.

So, he started to examine the room, looking for anything the police hadn’t noticed, something that could prove it was their kind of thing, any clue on what monster they were dealing with.

Walking to the window, the hunter checked the edge of it to see if sulfur remained on it, the idea of a demon killing the poor girl not leaving his mind. But nothing was there, not even a scratch which showed no breaking and entering. Even if the police report had said so, he wanted to check by himself. Then, Sam looked at her desk, not many notebooks remained on it and after quickly browsing through them, he put them back on it, turning to the wardrobe. Pushing some dresses and blouses on hangers aside, he decided to take a look in her drawers. Not that he was going to find pleasure in it like his brother could have, but because this place – along with under her mattress – could be a nice one to hide a hex bag. And, pushing his hand between socks, he felt something harder, familiar, that he quickly grabbed and got out of the drawer. A little purple bundle with a pentagram embroidered on it appeared in his palm as he opened his fingers.

Letting a little proud sound out at the discovery, Sam opened the hex bag and took a tiny cat bone out of it. Removing a piece made it safer for him to carry it without fearing a curse to be put on him too. Then putting the now disarmed hex bag in his pocket, he walked back to the stairs, ready to join his brother.

Once he reached the kitchen again, Sam saw his brother holding the girl’s hand, his eyes empathetic, trying to show comfort. Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the scene, his big brother had shown kindness and brought comfort to witnesses and victims before, and many of them had thanked him in a way he deeply enjoyed. He knew that his brother was sincere in his reassuring words but Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy women giving him a thank-you-my-hero kiss.

Entering the kitchen, Sam slightly cleared his throat and Dean straightened, his hand leaving Metra’s. Turning around, the older Winchester communicated with his eyes to his brother who let him know that he had found something. Dean gave him an almost imperceptible nod and turned back to Metra.

“Thank you for your time, we’ll get back to you if we find anything.” Dean declared, a small smile on his face.

Metra nodded and rose from her chair, ready to accompany the agents to the door. Sam was the first one to walk to it and Dean stayed by Metra’s side, waiting for the perfect moment to talk to her one last time.

Opening the door to them, Sam exited the house and Dean turned towards her, his right hand searching his suit pocket and pulling a card out of it. He handed it to the woman and she lightly frowned.

“You’re welcome.” The older brother answered with a smile and turned around when she started to close the door.

“Here. If you remember anything, whether you think it’s important or not, or if you need anything, call us.” He declared and Metra gave him a tight smile, taking the card in her hands and observing it for a moment. When she raised her head to look at them again, Dean was offering her a bright white smile.

“Thank you, Agent.” She answered, putting the card in her back pocket.

Going down the stairs together, Sam rolled his eyes again in annoyance at his brother’s flirtation on the job and walked to the car. Placing his arms on top of the Impala, Sam started to talk as Dean walked around the black car to reach the driver side.

“I think we’re dealing with a witch.” He declared, searching his suit-pants pocket and pulling the hex bag out of it, throwing it to his brother who caught it in flight.

Observing the little object for a second, Dean nodded, leaning against his car.

“So, you think this Zoey girl is going all Hocus Pocus at night?” Dean asked his brother who shrugged, giving him a silent ‘maybe’.

“Alright, let’s go talk to her then.” He declared, opening the driver’s door and already starting the engine as his brother joined him.

Stepping out of Zoey Martin’s house, the brothers were still a bit suspicious but unsure of her being a supernatural creature. Only one thing was sure: she was just a bitch.

They had walked into her home with the suspicion of her being a witch. The nature around her house, parched from two blocks around, had been interpreted as a side-effect of her black magic. But when they had arrived at her place, they had seen her desperately trying to water her withered roses to bring them back to life. A witch would have used magic to do that or not even cared about her flowers being dead.

This first impression made them doubt.

But it didn’t stop the Winchester from looking for anything witchy in her house or behavior and after arguing with her about them having the right – a right they clearly didn’t have – to ask her questions, they finally got into her house. Her suspicions about the hunters and her lack of cooperation on this fake investigation at first, both annoyed them and made it more difficult for them to look for any clues on her nature or the crime she had potentially committed. But eventually, Dean turned on his ‘famous’ charm and she fell right into this fly-trap, touching her hair as he told her how important her statement was going to be for them – for him. This distraction allowed Sam to sneak around her house, looking for anything suspicious that could tell them she was behind all this. But all the younger brother found was some pictures of herself hanging on the walls, dozens of different nail polishes and shoes. This girl was way too concerned about her self-image to be killing kittens with her bare hands or opening her wrist to cast spells with her own blood.

But, even if the way she behaved lowered the suspicions about her, the way Zoey was talking about Adriana made them twitch. Even if, maybe, she hadn’t killed the poor girl, she clearly wasn’t sorry about her death either. As she had so kindly declared, ‘this girl was always in the way, it was only a matter of time before someone did what everyone was thinking’. And after making her understand that it wasn’t a heated argument that happened but an actual murder, Zoey had shrugged, telling the brothers that no matter what had happened, it wasn’t any of her concern.

It was at that very moment that Sam was too annoyed with her to stay on that couch anymore and pretended to need to use her bathroom. A request she had nodded to, too lost in the green eyes of the hunter by her side. And when they explained they had to leave, Zoey asked for a number to call them if she ever thought about anything and Dean politely told her that it wouldn’t be necessary, leaving her on the porch while Sam let out a chuckle on the way to the car.

Inside the Impala, Dean sighed loudly in annoyance and frustration and Sam raised his eyebrows, joining his brother about this feeling.

“So, anything even a little bit witchy?” Dean asked, hopeful about having a positive answer from his brother but when Sam immediately shook his head, he sighed again.

“Nope, only girly things. I don’t think she killed her but considering how much she actually revealed about Adriana without caring, maybe someone used her for information or something.” Sam supposed, already thinking about new suspects and answers to their case.

Dean shrugged for a moment, considering his brother's theory and nodded.

“Metra, huh?” A little, mocking smile on the face, he teased his brother.

“Yeah, maybe. Metra said that her sister’s boyfriend was a bit distant lately. Maybe he got tired of her, was wondering about a way to end things with her and decided that murder was a good way to end a relationship. And lovely Zoey over there was willing to bitch about her all day long.” Dean interpreted, earning a little snort from his brother at his sudden theory.

It could be a possibility and at the beginning of a case, they were willing to listen to any theories. So, face-shrugged for a short second, not disapproving but not completely agreeing either. And turning to his brother, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Shut up.” Dean only answered, turning on the engine and driving to their motel.

“So what do you think, the boyfriend is a witch and put a killing spell on her girl?” Dean asked his brother, pulling his jacket off and throwing it on the nearest bed.

Sam shrugged, his rolled up sleeves arms resting on his laptop. The killer-boyfriend theory wasn’t unbelievable but the police had interrogated him and his alibi had been confirmed. And even though if he was actually a witch he could use his ability in his favor, something was off with this theory. And therefore, Sam wanted to have more than one lead on this case.

“I don’t know, the police questioned and his alibi seems to fit. But something is bothering me about this murder.” Sam started, narrowing his eyes in reflection.

“Maybe the fact that it’s a murder?” Dean declared, crouching down in front of the mini bar to grab a beer for him and his brother. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother’s comment and continued in his thinking.

“We noticed the dying nature in front of Adriana's place, which makes sense with her being the victim but Zoey’s roses were withered too. So either she’s the next victim or something else is going on in this town. I don’t know if you noticed but the whole town isn’t as flowery as it should be for this time of the year.” Sam explained while Dean took place in front of him, resting his Oxford shoes on the table.

“Well, unlike you I don’t really pay attention to the daisies in a town, Sammy.” Dean mocked his brother, causing him to roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Be serious for a second, I’m telling you something is wrong in this town.” Sam pushed, starting to be irritated by his brother’s behavior and lack of interest in this case.

“I am. And I’m telling you this is a freaking witch. You found a hex bag, remember?” Dean replied, slightly raising his palms towards the sky. He didn’t get why his brother was looking for another lead when the one they had hadn’t even been fully explored. This case was supposed to be easy, they confronted the witch, AKA the ex-boyfriend, killed the guy and saved the girl, hopefully Metra. Dean was starting to be pretty fond of the brown-haired girl and he hoped that once they had solved the case, he could be the one to announce the great news to her.

“Yes, but I’m telling you something is of-” Sam started to argue with his brother but Dean’s phone suddenly rang, interrupting him. Dean raised a hand, making him understand to shut up and Sam clenched his jaw at the way he was completely ignoring him and what he was saying, preferring to answer his call.

The older man straightened, putting his feet on the floor and answered his phone.

“Hello?” He started, slightly frowning as he wondered who was calling him. But soon, a voice he recognized talked on the other side of the phone.

“Agent Buxton? I think someone is in my house.” Metra quickly said, fear and worry in her voice. Dean immediately straightened, his attention fully focused on the girl that was talking to him.

“Alright, lock yourself in your bedroom or your bathroom, any room with a window you can escape by. We’re on our way.” Dean instructed her and Sam stared at his brother, trying to understand who he was talking to but before he could even ask, Dean got up and reached for his jacket, quickly putting it on.

“Please, hurry… I’m scared…” Metra whispered on the other side of the phone and Dean’s heart broke for a second, hating when people were scared and he couldn’t immediately protect and reassure them.

“Listen to me, I’m on my way, okay? Lock yourself and if you think you can leave your house without danger, do it. You’re gonna be okay.” He stated, seriousness making his voice a little deeper than usual.

“Okay… Please, hurry up…” The girl quietly said and the call ended.

Turning to his brother, Sam was already staring at him, putting his own jacket back on.

“Metra’s in danger, someone broke into her house.” Dean quickly explained, grabbing his gun on the table and heading to the motel room’s door, his little brother behind him.

The brothers hurried to the black Impala and the second the doors were closed, Dean started the engine, speeding out of the parking lot of the motel and towards Metra’s place. Concentrated and serious, Dean quickly drove to her house while Sam searched the duffel bag on his lap. After a few seconds, he pulled a wooden box out of it and opened it, taking the bullets in his hands and started to load his and his brother’s gun.

“Witch killing bullets.” Sam informed his brother who only nodded, approving his choice and stepped on the gas.

Soon, the brothers arrived at the victim’s house and jumped out of the car, running to the slightly opened front door. Dean was the first one to carefully enter the house, looking around him for any signs of the girl who had called him or the intruder. But, his gun raised before him, he didn’t see anyone and when he felt his brother behind him, he slightly turned his head to look at him, jutting his chin towards the kitchen and letting him know he would look around the living room. But as he was about to enter the room on his left, a scream echoed upstairs and the older brother rushed to the floor without even thinking.

Sam followed him, ready to shoot at any danger appearing while Dean tracked the sound and turned right when Metra screamed more loudly. His heartbeat fastened as he ran to the girl’s bedroom and when he entered the room, slamming the door wide open, he raised his gun ready to aim and shoot at the supernatural creature hurting the poor girl. But the hunter froze when he saw no one around except Metra, pressed against a wall, wrapped in a glowing white mist preventing her from moving and, soon, from breathing. For a second, Dean didn’t know what to do, unable to shoot at the fog surrounding her without hurting Metra.

It was easier when the threat was concrete, physical. If you could touch it, you could kill it.

Metra gasped for air, trying to free herself and her throat, desperately trying to have the oxygen filling her lungs. And when she opened her eyes, her brown orbs met the green ones of the hunter and he regained control of his own body when he saw the fear in her eyes. Slightly turning his head, he saw Sam behind him, focused on the trap girl too and looking for a way to free her.

“Sam, hex bag!” Dean shouted and turned towards the girl again. “Hold on, Metra, we’re gonna free you!” He declared, not leaving a hint of doubt in his strong voice.

Quickly, the brothers searched the woman’s room, Sam opened the drawers of her desk while Dean cut the pillows, trying to find where the magical object could be. Then, ripping open the mattress, a little, purple bundle fell on the floor. The hunter immediately grabbed it, searching his pocket for his lighter and set the magical object on fire. Purple flames burned the hex bag and the mist disappeared, freeing Metra and making her fall on the floor. Dean rushed to her, kneeling in front of her and placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

Taking some big and deep breaths, Metra raised her head, her eyes full of confusion and fear asking for answers on what had just happened to her. Dean moved his hand up and down her arm, trying to give her some comfort and turned his head towards his brother.

Another person they had to give the talk to.

After a short explanation on the supernatural threat she had just faced and who they actually were, Sam and Dean convinced Metra to come with them to their motel room, assuring her that it was the best way to keep her safe. And, trying to wrap her mind around this whole supernatural world and creatures, she packed a bag and followed them to the black car.

Once in the motel, Sam sat down behind his computer and searched for anything that could help them in this case while his brother tried to answer the poor woman’s questions. Resting her head between her hands, Metra’s heart pounded in her chest, her eyes focused on the brown carpet of the motel room.

“So, it was a witch. A witch killed my sister.” Metra declared, trying to get used to the creature behind her sister’s murder.

Dean sighed, placing a warm and reassuring hand on her knees.

“We think so. The hex bag I burned? Sam found one in your sister’s room as well. We think someone who wanted to harm her put it there. You said that she had some arguments with her boyfriend recently, right?” Dean asked even though he already knew the answer. He only needed confirmation to go to his place and make sure he didn’t hurt anyone anymore.

“You think Marcus did this to her?” Metra raised her head, her eyes wide opened in shock. Dean only shrugged.

Adriana and her boyfriend had been in a relationship for years and they were only facing disagreements for the past few months but nothing that could ever make them think about murdering the loved one.

“But why me? I mean, why try to kill me, too?” She asked, the more she was thinking about this whole story the more confused she was becoming.

The idea that Marcus had killed her own sister, that he had used magic to do so and that she could have been his next victim: all of this was so confusing and crazy. The many new and unbelievable information were starting to hurt her head and making her wish she was only having a nightmare.

A long and very real nightmare.

“We don’t know. But the bad guys don’t usually stop at one killing, sometimes it’s easier to get rid of the entire family too. No witnesses.” Dean gave her an explanation and Metra’s heart dropped into her stomach.

When Dean saw her face fall, he clenched his jaws, silently hoping he hadn’t phrased it that way. And as he raised his head to look at his little brother, he could see in Sam’s eyes that maybe it wasn’t the best to have said this but again, there wasn’t any good way to tell someone they could be on the list of a murderous witch.

Metra’s breath started to get stuck in her throat, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she was slowly starting to take everything that had happened to her and her sister in. Feeling dizzy without even having touched the beer the older Winchester had offered her when they had arrived, Metra tried to get up. Dean’s hand fell off of her knee and he rose with her, careful on how she was holding up, paying close attention to her body and any hint of her passing out on him. It wouldn’t have been the first someone fainted in front of them after hearing about what bumped into the night. But he really hoped that she wouldn’t be one of them.

But, slightly putting her weight on Dean’s arm as she stood up, she looked at the bathroom’s door on her right.

“I… I need to go to the bathroom.” She declared, her voice not louder than a whisper.

“Sure.” Dean answered her with a weak smile and let her arm go as she started walking to the bathroom.

The hunter clenched his jaws when she closed the door behind her and quickly turned to his brother, hoping that Sam had found anything that could help them in this case. The address of this Marcus guy would be awesome for example. So, walking to his brother, Dean sat down at the table Sam was working at. Crossing his hands on the furniture, he bent his back to be closer to his brother, ready to listen to any info the tall man could have found out.

“Sam! An address maybe?” Dean pushed and Sam clenched his jaws, staring at him. His brother was cutting off even his thoughts.

“Tell me you’ve got something, anything.” Dean immediately asked and Sam straightened, ready to let his brother know what he had discovered.

While Dean was trying to comfort Metra and make her understand what their real job was, Sam had opened the hex bag in the sisters’ rooms; trying to find a clue on who had cursed them. The basic ingredients for a hex bag were there : like some black cat bones, herbs and withered flowers, some fur too. But as he had inspected the ingredients, he had noticed a twig of some kind of cereal and-

Letting a deep and loud sigh of annoyance and frustration, the younger brother tapped his fingers on his laptop and got Marcus’ location in a few seconds.

“501 Hazel Street.” Sam declared reluctantly and Dean jumped on his feet, grabbing his gun and checking that it was still loaded with witch-killing bullets.

“Dean, I think we should talk about this first. Maybe this isn’t the only lead. Maybe this isn’t a lead at all.” Sam tried to explain to his brother that what he had found in the hex bag could be more than just a witch. But Dean was stubborn when he wanted to and, turning to his brother, he offered him a big, fake smile.

“Well, let’s check if it is one.” He stated, putting his gun in his jeans and walked to the bathroom.

Knocking on it, he discreetly put his ear on the door to catch any unusual sound coming from the other side.

“Metra? We’re going to go to Marcus’, okay? You can stay here while we’re gone, we won’t be long.” Dean explained against the wooden door and as Sam let a surprised sound behind him as the tall hunter would have liked to know that she was staying here before he told her, Metra opened the door, almost cutting Dean off in his sentence and making him take a step back.

“I’m coming with you.” She declared, her eyes red and puffy from her obvious crying in the bathroom.

Dean shook his head, immediately disagreeing with this idea. Metra coming with them meant more danger for her and Dean thought that she had been through enough already.

“No, it’s safer if you stay at the motel.” Dean stated, ready to turn around and leave so he wouldn’t have to argue with her for too long.

“Isn’t the safer place with you?” She started and Dean slightly pouted, revealing the dimples at the corners of his lips. He hated when people used this. “Besides, if Marcus really is the one who killed Adriana I wanna see him. I wanna ask him why…” Metra continued, lowering her gaze for a second as she mentioned her sister’s death.

Dean sighed, clenching his jaws as he thought about what she meant and if he had been in her place, there was no way in hell that he would have stayed in that motel room. But it didn’t mean that he had to be happy with her joining them.

“Alright.” Dean sighed, clenching his jaws. “You can come with us but you stay in the car and I’ll call you when it’s safe for you to see him. That’s my condition.” The older hunter explained and the woman nodded. At least she wasn’t going to stay alone in this motel room, waiting for them to come back with the news of her sister’s murderer killed. At least, this way, she could have a chance to have an explanation of it all.

“Okay.” Metra simply answered and Dean nodded, turning to Sam who was giving him many disapproving looks he decided to ignore.

“Well, let’s go.” Dean declared, putting his jacket off and brushing past his irritated brother who had no other choice but to follow him.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Dean said, checking his gun one last time before turning around in the Impala, looking at Metra in the backseat.

“So, you stay here and I’ll come and get you when it’s good.” The older man repeated and Metra nodded again, knowing that it was the smartest thing to listen to him. If Marcus had really tried to kill her too, it was safer for her to stay hidden until he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

“Good. Let’s go.” Dean told his little brother who quickly got out of the car after glancing at the girl behind him.

Watching his big brother heading to the small house in front of them, Sam quickly started to follow him so he wouldn’t do anything stupid like burst the door open and threaten a potentially innocent man. But before he could make his brother slow down and think, Dean was kicking the door, bursting into the house and pointing his gun at the man laying on his comfortable sofa.

“Don’t move!” Dean shouted and Marcus shrieks, curling on his couch in fear.

“Wha- what is going on?” The man asked in a high and shaky voice, making Dean frown for a second. It wasn’t the reaction he was expecting but witches could try to fool them with fake behavior. So, Dean continued to aim at the man in front of him, his gaze dark and threatening, ready to shoot if Marcus did a move he didn’t like.

“Dean! Stop!” Sam yelled behind him, rushing into the living room and witnessing the terrified man.

Dean quickly glanced at his brother before turning his attention back to Marcus, his jaws clenched and his eyes focused.

“What?” The older man asked in a grave and loud voice while Sam walked to him, hands raised in a calming gesture.

“It’s not him. The flowers in front of his house, they’re withered.” Sam explained, hoping that his explanation would make sense.

The vegetation surrounding Marcus’ home was dead, just like the Baker sisters’ and Zoey’s. Marcus wasn’t the killer, for all it was, he could be the next victim. Dean knew what his brother meant by that but it didn’t mean he had to agree with him. So, keeping his arms straight and steady in front of him, still holding his gun, Dean shrugged.

“So? He could be the one making them die. We thought that about Zoey, too.” He declared and the threatened man’s eyes widened.

“Did something happen to Zoey, too?” Marcus asked in a trembling voice.

“Shut up!” The green-eyed hunter quickly shouted and Marcus stopped talking, sinking a bit more into his sofa in fear.

“Dean, look at him, he’s terrified! It’s not him!” Sam tried to talk some sense into his brother who was slowly starting to listen to him.

He didn’t like to be wrong and threaten the wrong guy, but Dean had to admit that Marcus seemed more scared than dangerous. If he was the witch, he would have put a spell on them by now, sending them flying across the room or turning their intestines in knots. But the whole time Dean had aimed at him, Marcus had only curled up on his couch, trying to get as far away from his gun as possible, asking what was happening, fear written all over his face.

So, sighing, Dean lowered his gun and Marcus started to breathe again.

“If you didn’t kill Adriana, what’s your deal with Zoey? Why bitch about your girlfriend to her?” Dean asked the panicked man whose eyebrows rose in incomprehension, wondering who those men were in his living room.

And when he took too much time to answer, Dean raised his voice again.

“Answer!”

“W-we started going out together f-for a few weeks. I was trying to break up with Adri, I swear, but before I could explain everything, sh-she got killed.” Marcus blurted out, stuttering through his sentence. Dean rolled his eyes at the answer and put his gun back in his jeans.

“So, not a murderer, just a shitty boyfriend.” He judged and Marcus let out a quiet sob, hiding his head in his hands, making Dean sigh and look away.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, please, don’t kill me…” Marcus begged and Dean pouted in discomfort.

Looking around him, he found a box of tissues and grabbed them, handing Marcus the box in a sigh.

“Here.” Marcus took a tissue and blew his nose. “I’m not gonna kill you, alright? Just… next time, break up with the girl before looking elsewhere.” Dean told the poor man who quickly nodded, fully understanding the lesson.

“Alright, let’s go.” The older brother declared, turning around and away from Marcus and meeting the disapproving gaze of his little brother.

Dean knew that he had screwed up, he shouldn’t have threatened the half-innocent man but it was stronger than him, he wanted to solve this case. He needed to solve this case. But Sam wanted the same thing as him and the younger hunter wasn’t threatening people before he was sure they were actually the person they were looking for.

Feeling the guilt of scaring the poor guy, Dean headed to the front door, wanting to leave as fast as possible. Marcus didn’t deserve this, he hadn’t been the boyfriend of the year for sure, but Dean knew that his method hadn’t been right. He couldn’t just walk into a house, threaten the people there only to walk away when he realized he had been mistaken. And he knew that his little brother was going to remind him this once they would be alone. Dean already apprehended this inevitable moment.

“Hum… we’re really sorry, Marcus. We made a mistake.” Sam politely smiled, trying to calm down the scared man in front of him and making him understand that they were working on Adriana’s case but had been misled.

After making up a few white lies and making sure that Marcus wasn’t going to be traumatized for life or file a complaint against them, Sam left the house, leaving the man on his couch, still in shock. Watching his brother walking to the black car, Sam caught up with Dean before he could reach the Impala.

“What the hell, Dean? You can’t just threaten people like that!” Sam lectured his brother who sighed, knowing full well the mistake he had made.

“I thought he was the bad guy, okay? And he kinda was.” Dean tried to justify himself but Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval. No matter what his brother was going to find to legitimize what he had done, it wouldn’t make it right. The stab first and ask questions later method had been out of question for a while now and Sam didn’t intend to come back to it soon.

“Dean, you can’t just burst into people’s houses like that and leave them in shock. What’s gotten into you?” Sam asked, his eyebrows in a frown, trying to understand the meaning under his brother’s behavior.

But, taking a breath to ease the tension between them, Sam took a step towards his brother.

“I just wanna solve this case before more people get hurt.” Dean declared, stopping in front of the Impala and turning to Sam.

The tall man could see that Dean was serious, that solving this case was something he deeply wanted to do. And Sam also knew that, the ‘more people’ his brother was talking about was Metra. Sam didn’t quite understand the sudden care for the girl, she was witnessed and a victim but they didn’t know her at all and as much as Dean would hate that he thought so, if Marcus wasn’t the killer, everyone could be a suspect.

“I know. And I wanna solve this case too, trust me. But let’s do it right and not just threaten every person we come across, right?” Sam told him, slightly raising his eyebrows to make Dean understand that he was serious. The green-eyed man let a frustrated breath out, looking away for a second, hating when his brother was right.

“Right.” Dean declared, his way to say he was sorry and was agreeing with his brother.

“Is everything okay?” A voice joined the brothers’ conversation and Dean turned around, his eyes founding the brown ones of Metra.

His face softened a little when he looked at her, standing behind her opened door and he took a step towards her.

“Yeah. Marcus wasn’t the one behind your sister’s murder.” Dean explained and Metra’s mouth slightly opened in a ‘o’, raising her eyebrows at the information.

“So, what do we do, now?” She asked, looking from one brother to the other, wanting to know how they could solve her sister’s case. Dean searched the beautiful girl’s face and her eyes seemed clouded in a certain sadness, the elucidation of this tragedy slowly slipping away from her grasp. Dean’s heart tightened at view and he took another step to her, showing his support.

“We go back to the motel and we continue working the case until we find out who it is.” The hunter declared, confidence and seriousness in his voice. Metra nodded, trying to give him a small smile and when he turned to his brother, Sam was nodding too, approving of this simple but much more reasonable plan.

Dean walked to the driver’s door and sat down behind the wheels. Turning on the engine, he drove back to their motel. They still had a lot of work to do.

Back to their motel room, Sam and Dean changed their clothes, deciding that the fake-fbi suits had been enough and wanting to go back to their own self. Metra had been quiet through the whole ride and even now, sitting on Dean’s bed. The woman was tired, wanting to know the long and the short of what had happened to her sister.

Lost in her thoughts, the brown-haired girl was looking mindlessly at the floor, the events of the past few days running through her head, watching her sister’s corpse over and over, her own near death experience joining the party. Raising his head from his father’s journal, trying to see if John had ever come across something like this during his years of hunting, Dean looked at Metra. Frowning at her resting her head on her hands and staring at nothing, he turned to her.

“You’re okay there, Sweetheart?” The nickname slipped from his lips but Metra didn’t seem to mind, as she only looked at him.

Shrugging at first, the woman shook her head soon after, lowering her gaze.

“No, not really. I feel… drained and… dirty. Could I borrow your bathroom and maybe take a shower, please?” Metra asked, unsure of how her request would be taken. They were already kind enough to let her stay with them and maybe she was going to push their boundaries with her ask. But, on the contrary, Dean nodded, not seeing the problem in her demand.

“Sure. Do you need clean clothes or something?” He asked, not knowing what he would have given her if she had said yes. But fortunately for him, she shook her head, getting up from the bed.

“No, no, I just need to wash myself after… everything. Thank you.” She explained and gave the hunter a smile that Dean returned.

Metra walked to the bathroom and Sam glanced at her when she passed by him, silently observing her enter their bathroom for the second time. When he turned his head again, Dean was staring at the closed door and Sam narrowed his eyes. Feeling his brother’s eyes on him, Dean looked at Sam, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

“What?” He asked in his deep voice and Sam simply looked at him, analyzing.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah.” Dean closed the conversation and browsed through his father’s journal that he knew by heart, fully knowing that he wouldn’t find anything in it.

Sam went back to his opened laptop in front of him when the water began to flow in the bathroom, reading on a website about witchcraft what the herbs in the hex bag could refer to and bringing his attention back to the twig he had noticed earlier. And, taking it between his fingers, he quickly recognized it as wheat. It wasn’t common to find this cereal in a hex bag and it caught the younger brother’s attention. And, after recognizing the wheat, Sam paid more attention to the withered flowers next to it. And even though he wasn’t an expert in blossoms, he couldn’t help but want to find out what those flowers actually were and after some targeted research on the topic, Sam discovered that those dried petals were those of hydrangea, colchium and hemlock.

Frowning, he decided to do detailed research on those flowers, wanting to discover the meaning behind them, convinced that it could help them in the case. And, once he had gathered the information he was looking for, he let out a surprised snort, leaning against the back of his chair.

“So, get this.” Sam started, making his brother look away from the pages of the journal, having his full attention. When Sam started a sentence like this, it meant that the solution was on the way.

“I noticed some strange ingredients in the hex bag I found in Adriana’s room so I did some research.” Sam started to explain and Dean smirked a little, secretly impressed when his little brother noticed things like those when he would only see herbs and bones. Sam continued.

“Okay Edward Scissorhands, where does that leave us?” Dean asked, turning his palms towards the sky in perplexity.

“First, there is a twig of wheat” Sam took the small branch in his fingers and showed it to his brother, illustrating his words. “Then, there were some dead petals too and I found out that they are hydrangea, colchium, hemlock and poppy.” Sam explained, turning his laptop towards his brother so he could see by himself the flowers he was talking about.

Glancing at the pictures of the flowers then at his brother, Dean raised his eyebrows, not getting what he was supposed to understand from looking at some daisies.

Sam groaned a little and took his laptop back before continuing to explain where he was getting.

“The wheat is a symbol of the cultivation of the fields, harvests. The hydrangea is a flower that grows in the garden until the end of summer, they allude to deep emotions towards the one surrounding us, especially our family. As for the colchium and hemlock, they are symbols of jealousy, dying love and poison and betrayal.” Sam explained and Dean’s eyebrows furrowed the more his brother talked.

“Okay.” Dean simply said but Sam knew it was an invitation to go on. And he did.

“I think that, those flowers weren’t randomly chosen. I think all of this is connected. The symbols of family, betrayal, jealousy and dying love.” Sam said and Dean was now really into his brother’s tale, joining him in the analysis and trying to connect the dots with him.

“Okay, but what about the wheat? What’s the link between farms and a poor girl dead?” Dean wondered and Sam slightly shook his head, leaning closer to his brother.

“Not between farms, but between fields and cultivation.” Sam corrected his brother who raised his eyebrows, trying to understand what his point was. “I don’t think we’re dealing with a witch here, Dean. I think we’re dealing with a god.” Sam declared and Dean’s eyes widened.

The idea of facing a god in this small, lost-in-the-middle-of-nowhere town wasn’t something that had reached Dean’s mind. Less alone when all the clues were pointing to a witch. So, frowning, Dean tucked his chin before interrupting his brother.

“God? What god? What about the hex bag? Gods don’t need those. We’re clearly dealing with a witch, here, Sam.” Dean argued and Sam understood why his brother was saying that.

It was true that gods had no use for hex bags and that they usually despite working with witches or other supernatural beings, but it wouldn’t have been the first god who would mix identities with someone else to achieve their aims. After all, Loki and Gabriel had shared identities for centuries. So, to Sam, it wouldn’t be absurd if Adriana’s death had been caused by a god who was trying to hide it as witchcraft. And he needed to make Dean see his point of view on the situation.

“Listen, everything makes sense if you think about it. The dying nature all over town, the twig of wheat and the poppy in the hex bag. This is not a witch but a god.” Sam continued and Dean raised his hands, showing his lack of understanding.

“What god?” He asked, slowly starting to get irritated by not understanding.

“Persephone? And what makes you think it’s her?” Dean asked and Sam was happy to explain his thoughts to him and how he had come to this conclusion.

“Persephone.” Sam stated and Dean stopped, narrowing his eyes.

The name wasn’t unknown to the older brother but he didn’t really understand how it could be more Persephone or any other god than a vengeful witch. And why would they bother covering up their murder as if a witch had done it? Dean wasn’t fully against the possibility of a god doing all this, but he needed to understand why his brother thought so.

“Well, you know the myth of Persephone, right?” Sam started and Dean made a face his little brother knew too well.

“Of course.” He lied and Sam couldn’t help but have a slight smile on his lips, always finding it a little funny when he tried to act like he knew something when he didn’t.

“Well, as you know, Persephone had been kidnapped by Hades who wanted to make her his queen in Hell. Her mother, Demeter, declared that the Earth would starve until she found her daughter and after going to Zeus, they came to an arrangement: Persephone would spend eight months on Earth with her mother and four in Hell with her Hades. That’s why nature is almost missing or dead during winter, the four months Persephone are in Hell.” Sam explained the myth and Dean nodded, taking in the information his brother was giving him.

“Alright, but we’re in June, so your story doesn’t make sense.” Dean declared and the younger hunter quickly nodded, agreeing with him.

“Exactly, we’re in June, the vegetation is supposed to grow and be alive, but it’s not the case here. And in the hex bag, I found the wheat which is connected to the fields and farming, the fertility of the soils. And the poppy is Persephone’s symbol. It’s all connected.” Sam’s voice raised in excitement as he explained how the fact that the dying nature in the whole town showed it was related to Persephone’s myth.

“But what about the other flowers you found in there?” Dean asked, jutting his chin towards the opened hex bag on the table.

“I don’t know about that yet, but, Dean, I’m sure that this is not a witch. I’m convinced that we’re dealing with Persephone or at least her myth. I don’t know why now or the reason behind all this but I know it’s related. Trust me.” Sam told his big brother who stared at him for a moment, listening to what he was saying and started to slowly see his point.

“Okay, okay. Let’s say it’s her. Who and where is she?” Dean asked. If he agreed with his brother and worked on the assumption that it was never a witch in the first place, they needed to find out why all of this was happening here and now, why Adriana was killed and more importantly, how they would kill this goddess.

At his question, Sam’s eyes fell on the bathroom’s door, his suspicion towards the supposed victim growing the more he thought about it, the more he looked into this case. Dean turned his head and looked at the wooden door too and when he understood what his brother meant, he looked at the tall man again, furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head.

“No.” Dean stated, refusing the idea of Metra being the one behind all this.

“Dean, we don’t know anything about her. How can you know that she’s not manipulating you into thinking that she’s a victim? How can you be sure that she isn’t the one who killed Adriana in the first place?” Sam argued, not understanding why his brother was so sure that she was innocent.

“No, this isn’t her. Her sister was a victim of this damn goddess if you want, but Metra almost died too. She discovered the corpse of her sister, has been attacked herself and almost choked to death and you’re telling me that she’s the one behind all this?” Dean declared, his voice raising a little, highly refusing that the brown-haired girl could be the bad guy they had to get rid off.

“There wasn’t anyone in the house when we came, no forced entry either. I checked. I’m not completely saying that it is her but you can’t prove to me that she isn’t the reason why we’re here, either.” Sam pointed out and Dean clenched his jaws, crossing his arms before himself in a defensive gesture. Sam knew at this moment that his brother wouldn’t listen to reason anymore.

“No. I can’t believe that she’s behind all this. Did you see how terrified she was when we rescued her? How she's mourning her sister? And how all the supernatural talk made her dizzy? Come on, Sam, she’s innocent.” Dean argued, trying to win over his brother and disculpate the poor girl. Dean had been touched by the young woman, relating all too well to the pain of losing their only sibling. Everyone reacted all they could in front of such a loss and while Dean was trying to comfort and bring some peace in some way to Metra, Sam had eyed her, not feeling her pain like Dean had. The younger brother had some reservations towards her, not connecting with her like Dean.

“Or she’s a really good actress.” Sam declared, showing Dean that he still wasn’t convinced about her innocence and Dean glared at him, not liking at all his accusations.

“Okay, stop it. It’s not her.” Dean stated, putting an end to the argument, not wanting to hear any of this anymore.

Sam sighed.

The younger brother knew at this very moment that no matter what he was going to say, Dean wouldn’t agree with the possibility that Metra wasn’t as innocent as she tried to appear. But after all, Sam could be wrong and he could be accusing an honest and harmless girl who had only witnessed her sister murder. But something told him it wasn’t the case, something told him that Metra knew more than she wanted to reveal. Sam hadn’t fallen under the brown-haired girl’s spell, unlike his brother.

“So, how do we kill it?” Dean asked, his voice still a bit defensive from the previous argument and Sam focused on his brother again.

“How do we kill what?” Metra’s voice interrupted, making Sam turn his head towards the young woman.

Dean raised his head and looked at her too, her wet hair falling on her shoulders, her arms wrapped around herself to keep her warmth. Looking at her, Dean couldn’t understand how his brother could think that she could be the monster they had to gank, especially when she looked so vulnerable, so lost.

“The goddess. We think that it’s not a witch but a goddess. Do you know the myth of Persephone?” Dean asked and didn’t look at his brother who glared at him for revealing what they were truly after when his main suspect was in the room.

Metra’s eyes widened and she walked to Dean’s bed, sitting on it and looking at the brothers in front of her.

“Wait, gods exist too?” She asked, surprise written all over her face. When she thought that this world was only filled with supernatural creatures like vampires or werewolves, she was told that the religious beings existed too.

What didn’t they face?

Dean nodded and Metra took a deep breath, taking the new information in and trying not to break down again. It wasn’t their job to comfort her, their duty was to get rid of the monster terrorizing this town. Once she felt like her emotions were under control, she remembered Dean’s question and nodded.

“Yes, I know this myth. I’ve taken some mythology classes in college and we talked about this myth who created the seasons.” Metra told the Winchesters and they nodded, agreeing with the story. “Wait, you guys think that it’s Persephone? She’s the one behind all this? She killed my sister? Why?” The woman asked, thousands of questions appearing in her mind.

Dean turned towards her a bit more, raising his hand her way to try and stop her many questions. Questions he didn’t have an answer to.

“We don’t know.” He started and the girl’s brown eyes met Dean’s green ones. “We think that she’s the one causing all this but we don’t know why or why she killed your sister. But it doesn’t matter, we’re gonna find a way to kill her and will get rid of her. She won’t hurt anyone else again.” Dean assured and she nodded, believing him and his promise to put an end to all of this. She wanted this too.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” She asked, wondering how humans could actually kill a god.

“That’s what we’re working on.” Dean answered, looking at his brother who immediately started to tap away at his laptop keyboard, already doing researches to distinguish between the true and the false and on how to kill the monster behind all this.

“Alright, I think I’ve got it.” Sam broke the silence in the motel room, making Dean and Metra raise their heads from the mythology books they were both reading.

“Feel free to share with the class, Sammy.” Dean replied, causing Sam to roll his eyes at the comment and nickname but also made Metra chuckle. The older brother couldn’t help but appreciate the short sound, the glimpse of her lightly smiling making him half-grin.

“Well, I’ve found out how to summon her and from everything I’ve read, it seems like a stake made of cypress covered in poppies through her heart would work.” Sam explained, already making researches on where he could find the tree.

“I told you that the poppies would have a part to play in this.” Metra declared with a smile, excited to be right and Sam slightly rolled his eyes, hating to admit that she had indeed told him so.

Dean saw his brother’s light pout and couldn’t help but smirk. No matter who it was, if someone was right before Sam was, Dean was happy to see this little frustrated and almost upset face on his little brother. So, he smiled, earning a dark look from his little brother, silently telling him to not make any comment on this. For once, Dean listened and didn’t tease his brother. He would do it later.

“Okay, so I get the poppies link with this Persephone bitch, but what about the Cypress? Why not the usual oak stake?” Dean asked and Sam was about to answer his brother’s relevant question but Metra was quicker and replied first.

“In the Greek and Roman mythology, the Cypress is a tree linked to hell, so it would make sense with the myth. Look, they talk about it here.” She said, standing up from the bed and walking to Dean with the book in her hands. Once she was standing next to him, she pointed to a page with her finger and Dean leaned closer to her to read the paragraph she was showing him while Sam discreetly tried to read behind her shoulder, wanting to see it by himself.

After reading the part where they mention this tree, Sam approved her explanation and the woman smiled, happy to be able to help the brothers in their researches. And as much as it was costing him to admit it, Sam had to recognized that Metra had been helpful on the researches. She had went to the nearest library with Dean and had picked up the most accurate and detailed books about mythology there but also the books she had studied in her classes, trying to gather as many information as she could to help them on this case. Maybe what motivated her was the idea of being able to found her sister’s killer and get revenge, or maybe she had felt useless for the past few days and now that someone was actually doing something to help on her sister’s case she wanted to participate. No matter the reason, the tall hunter had to admit that she had been useful on getting information about mythology. And, considering she was founding with them a way to kill Persephone, Sam was slowly starting to doubt his suspicions about her. If she had been Persephone, she wouldn’t have helped them find a way to kill her, she would have get rid of them for getting to close to the truth.

“Alright, so, you prepare everything we need for the summoning, I’ll get you the stake and flower.” Dean told his brother, standing up and putting his jacket on, ready to go and find everything they needed to kill this goddess.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked and Metra turned around, facing him.

“Most of what we need are in the trunk, so, I can go with you. We get the stake and poppies and summon her right away. The quicker we do it, the more we prevent her from causing other deaths.” Sam declared, standing up too and walked to his bed to grab his jacket too, getting ready to leave the motel and put an end to this case.

Metra got up in her turn and was ready to take her coat when Dean’s voice stopped her in her movement.

“I’m coming with you too.” She simply answered, ready to face the monster that had killed her sister. But the older man had a different take on it and immediately shook his head at her sentence.

“No way. You’re staying here, we’re gonna take care of this god.” He declared, his voice deep and serious, not leaving place to argument.

Metra’s shoulders lowered at the idea of staying behind while they dealt with the supernatural being, she wanted to see the person that had killed Adriana, she needed to see it dead with her own eyes, needing to make sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone else again, not even herself. And Metra didn’t understand why she couldn’t come with them, after all she had helped on finding what could kill this so called god and had even been allowed to go with them when they had faced Marcus when they thought he was the witch.

And she decided to remind him of those fact.

“Why? I proved you that I could be useful, didn’t I? And you let me come with you when you went to Marcus’, why would it change now?” She asked, trying to understand why this sudden change of position on the topic.

Adjusting his jacket on, Dean walked closer to her in an attempt to make himself more heard and understand. He needed her to see his point even though he knew that, no matter what she was gonna say, she still wasn’t coming with them.

“We thought Marcus was a witch and witches are pretty easy to kill, witch-killing bullets in the heart or brain and the case it settled. And we could talk with him but gods are a whole other deals. They aren’t a milk run, okay? This is way more dangerous. We don’t know how powerful she’ll be, her powers or if the stake is gonna end her. And even if you want answers, you don’t talk with gods. So, no. You’re not coming.” Dean declared, his green eyes focused and piercing through her pupils. She could see that he was deadly serious about this and to say that she wasn’t scared by the whole god thing would have been a lie, but she still hoped to have answers to the questions she had.

“Dean…” She started in an attempt to making him hear her out but he didn’t even let her finish her sentence, already running out of time and fearing the goddess striking again.

“No. This is way too dangerous. She already hurt you once and it won’t happen again, not on my watch. So you stay here where you’re safe.” He told her, putting an end to the discussion and Metra sighed, understanding that she had lost this fight but deeply hoping that they would be able to kill this monster, to avenge her sister and maybe even have some answers she profoundly needed.

After parking the Impala in front of a disused factory they found to summon the goddess, Sam and Dean got out of the car and walked to the trunk, opening it to take with them everything they needed to put an end to this case.

Sam grabbed a bowl, the blood of lamb, some herbs and his notebook where he had the written the summoning while Dean took the sharp stake of cypress covered in dust of poppies and his gun. Just in case. Grabbing a flashlight each as the night had started to fall on the quiet city, the hunters moved in sync towards the building in front of them.

The disused factory was at the exit of the town, away from civilization and anyone who would ask questions about their doing there in the middle of the night.

Pushing the sliding door open, Dean lighted the abandoned main room. Glancing at his brother, he entered the place and started to inspect premises, looking for anyone hidden in there, some children looking for an adrenaline shot in the abandon place of their town or even a lost and homeless person who had taken as a shelter the disused building. But the more he looked around the less he found, quickly coming to the conclusion that they were completely alone.

While his brother made sure they weren’t going to be disturbed by anyone, Sam prepared everything he needed to summon the goddess. After lighting many candles to have a better view of the room, the dozens of little flames dancing and creating some shadows around the tall hunter, Sam drew a sigil on the floor that would supposedly trap the goddess and make her powerless. Once it was ready, Sam placed the bowl full of blood in the middle of it, placed the herbs inside and stood up holding his notebook.

The red-head woman, dressed in a fluid and cream dress, looked around herself, trying to understand where she had traveled to and who were those humans before her.

Once he was ready for the summoning, Dean came back and made him understand with a silent look that the place was empty. With the confirmation of being alone, Sam started to recite the summoning in Latin, putting the right intonation to be sure to not make any mistake and get the goddess there on the first try. Dean didn’t understand what his brother was saying but it didn’t matter, Sam had proved more than once that he was the expert on those type of things so he only waited, looking around to make sure no one was coming and when Sam reached the end of his summoning, he lit the matches he had in his pocket and threw them in the bowl.

A bright and wide blue flame appeared in front of them, a warm wind crashed on their faces, making them take a step back and cover their eyes to be able to see. For a second, Sam feared that the candles all over the room were going to go out but they magically didn’t and once the breeze of flowery scent stopped blowing, the hunters lowered their arms, revealing a beautiful woman standing in the middle of the painted sigil.

“Who are you? What am I doing in this place?” She asked Sam and Dean who were already glaring at her, ready to attack and end her life.

“Don’t try this with us! We’re the one asking the questions. Why did you kill Adriana Baker?” Dean shouted, aiming his gun at her and the woman took a step back at his aggressiveness, her eyes widening.

“I don’t understand. Who is this Adriana?” Persephone asked, looking around her and studying her surroundings. Looking at her feet, she saw some lines drawn under her and when she tried to walked away from the menacing men, she couldn’t, trapped in what seemed to be an invisible cage.

“Don’t move, bitch! And this all innocent act, it won’t work with us.” Dean told the goddess who frowned at him, shocked by his vulgarity and more and more confused by his words. But Dean didn’t buy it, seeing right through her and her attempt to act like she didn’t know why she was being trapped and threatened.

“Oh but it already worked, Handsome.” A voice echoed behind the hunters and Dean froze when he recognized the person it belonged to. His blood ran cold and before he could turn around and see the person with his own eyes, Persephone spoke up, her eyes big and round in surprise and shock.

“Demetra?” The goddess asked, her voice high with confusion and what Dean thought was the victim of this story stepped out of the darkness.

“Hello, sister. Long time no see.” Metra said, the kindness in her voice long gone and the mourning expression on her face now replaced by a smirk splitting her lips.

Dean’s heart skipped a bit when he realized he had been fooled by the beauty and acting of the woman he had defended to his brother. Dean Winchester had been deceived before, on other cases and by other monsters but something deep inside him was always a bit leery about them. But this time, it hadn’t been the case, this time he had completely bitten the story of the poor woman who had lost her sister and had been attacked herself by the horrible monster when the horrible monster was herself. The idea of being taken for a ride and look like a damn fool enraged him, every ounce of compassion and sympathy towards her completely gone, he quickly turned around and immediately aimed his gun towards her chest ready to shoot and ease his nerves.

“Nah-ah.” Metra let out, sending the brother flying across the room with the back of her hand and pinning them against a wall, making them lost their guns in the process.

“You bitch! You were behind all this! To think that I almost shot a guy because I thought he had attacked you! And Adriana? What did the poor girl do to you?” Dean yelled, furious, his blood boiling under his skin while he struggled to free himself from the invisible grip on him.

“I told you she was the one making all this!” Sam said to his brother, the frustration of being right but not having been listening to irritating him too. It wasn’t the first time Dean had listened to himself when Sam was the one being right and had put forward his arguments to prove him so. But Dean had done whatever he wanted and here they were, unable to move and kill the evil in front of them.

“Enough talking, you two.” Metra declared and made the brothers shut their mouths with a movement of her hand.

Incapable of opening their mouths no matter how much they tried and wanted to, Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam glared at his brother, silently arguing with him and letting him know how pissed at him he was for not believing him when he should have and Dean rolled his eyes, saving the lecture for another time. Dean turned his head and glared at the fake victim on front of him, his green eyes dark with anger.

“Adriana was a mean to an end. I needed something to make you boys come to this town and apparently, a death in odd circumstances brings hunters quickly.” Metra declared, looking at the brothers dark looks. She understood their rage and hate towards her and, honestly, couldn’t blame them for it but she had done what she had to do to find her own peace.

“And once you were here, you so kindly delivered me how to kill the beloved Persephone and even handed her over to me on a silver platter. And for this, I have to thank you.” Metra said, offering a genuine smile Dean wanted to rip off.

“Metra, what is this all about?” Persephone asked, trying to understand what was going on, trying to understand why she was here and what her sister meant.

“You. All of this is about you and how you stole what was mine millennial ago!” Metra yelled and Persephone flinched at her accusation, her thin features showing her stunned expression.

“You had everything. You were loved by gods and humans, you were beautiful and idolized by everyone.” Metra started, walking closer to her sister who took a step back. “I envied you, I envied your greatness, your reputation, your light. I was jealous of you, of all this love you received and when I caught his eyes, you couldn’t handle it, could you? You couldn’t handle the idea that I could have something you hadn’t, that I could receive someone’s love that you wouldn’t have.” The goddess accused and Persephone’s face started to fall, her delicate and kind features softening in realization.

“That’s what you think happened? He kidnapped me, held me captive and only agreed to free me when Mother threatened to starve the earth. And I’m allowed to walk this planet only a certain part of time! Is that what you really envy? A life of captivity, alternating between hell and earth?” Persephone argued, slowing raising her voice at her sister’s words. She had to defend herself, she couldn’t stay there and letting herself being insulted like this by her own sister.

Metra let a dark laugh out at her tale, not believing her in the slightest. She knew the myth around her sister, how she had been stolen by Hades himself or how no one had ever talked about her, the older sister trapped in her younger sibling’s shadow. But Metra knew better than those ridiculous stories the humans had decided to create, and she knew what kind of being her sister truly was.

“Please, don’t act like I don’t know you, Perse. You couldn’t handle the thought of not having all the attention to yourself and tricked him into falling for you. You had all the love but you couldn’t have his and this, this it what truly drove you mad.” Metra stated, glaring at her trapped sister.

The goddess of hell straightened, the fear and surprise on her face completely disappearing. Taking a step towards her sister, Persephone grinned, the way she held herself completely changing as she raised her head high on her neck, showing to Metra that she wasn’t intimidated by her in the slightest. Locking eyes with Metra, Persephone felt her blood boiling in her veins.

“All the love? She named you after herself and you say I’ve had all the love?” Persephone voice’s started to raise, her own bitterness and anger rising as she talked.

“Oh, so, because you were mad at Mommy, you punished me? You beef wasn’t with me, yet you decided to make me pay. Your lips are venomous poison and you chose to put them on him. Of all the people, him!” Metra shouted and Persephone’s eyes darkened as she took another step towards her.

“I was prettier, smarter, admired by them all, I did everything she wished for, bent over backwards to make her happy and you did nothing but couldn’t do anything wrong in her eyes.” Persephone growled and Metra smiled at her sister’s face that started to reddened as anger reached her.

“Yet, she left no stone unturned to get you back.” Metra declared, her hate growing the more she remembered how her mother had completely forgotten about her once Persephone had gone missing when she would have gone so willingly in hell and in his arms.

Persephone let a chuckle out that soon turned into a dark laugh, echoing in the whole factory. A sinister smile spread Persephone’s thin lips as she enjoyed the thought of her despicable mother threatening Zeus himself to free her, completely leaving her sister behind and finally turning all of her motherly attention to herself.

“Well… maybe I hate her just as much a I hate you.” Persephone declared making Metra clench her jaws at her words. “You were nothing Metra and still are nothing. No one knows who you are, Mother did everything in her power to get me back and Hades? He can’t get enough of me.” She added and Metra silently walked to the older hunter.

If one look could kill, Metra would have dropped dead the second she met Dean’s eyes, the hunter glared at her with all the hate he could have while his little brother carefully listened to the argument before him, connecting the dots and understanding what all of this was really about.

“Allow me.” Metra whispered to the older brother as she knelt before him and took the weapon that would kill Persephone.

Standing up, she offered him a smile and Dean turned his hand into a fist, hating how she had played him. Then, she walked back to her sister who hadn’t stopped laughing and unleashing all the hate she had towards her family, how she was delighted by her sister’s suffering. Discreetly, she lowered herself and scratched the painted sigil on the floor, freeing Persephone without her even knowing. Standing in front of the talking goddess, Metra smiled, gripping the stake in her right hand and hiding it behind her back.

“Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?” Metra interrupted the goddess of the kingdom of the dead who immediately glared at her.

“How dare you speak to me this way?” Persephone growled and Metra’s smile widened, enjoying her sister’s anger.

“Come on, sis’. Show me what you’ve got.” Metra provoked her and Persephone’s eyes looked at the floor, noticing the broken seal in front of her.

Without wasting a second, Persephone rushed towards the brown-haired woman and attacked her, grabbing her coat and tackling her to the ground in a scream of rage. The women fell on the floor and Metra let out a satisfied chuckle to see her sister so enraged and loosing control this way. Persephone tried to strangle her but Metra dodged her, rolling them together so she would be have the control over her again. Persephone tried to hit her but Metra was faster and caught her sister’s fist before it could reach her jaw, smirking above her.

“My pain was your thrill, Perse. Now yours will be mine.” Metra declared and created a mist around her sister, stepping away from her and moving her in the air, holding her and preventing her from moving.

As the goddess tried to free herself, Metra grinned, enjoying and contemplating her struggling sister. Metra tightened her fists and the invisible force narrowed around Persephone, making her cry out in pain.

“I wanna hurt you just to make you scream!” Metra shouted above her sister’s cries of pain as the mist suffocated her, crushing her lungs and making her stomach bleed.

The goddess savored every seconds of the sweet melody made by her sister’s screams. Her high voice filled with pain and agony made the goddess close her eyes and smile at the beautiful sound reaching her ears. If one day someone had told her she would finally kill her, told her that she would finally get her revenge, she would have called them crazy. But now they would be the ones calling her crazy to assassinate Hades’ wife. But Metra didn’t think twice and grabbed the cypress stake, holding the weapon tightly in her hand.

“Say ‘hi’ to your husband for me.” Metra told her with a wicked smirk, raising her arm as Persephone’s eyes widened, realizing her incoming fate.

Before she could say anything, Metra pierced her heart with the stake, making the goddess of the dead scream in pain, her cries echoing through the whole building. A strange flowery scent filled the room as the screeches faded and Persephone fell on the floor, lifeless.

Staring at her sister’s corpse, Metra smiled, letting a satisfied sound out. Finally. She had put an end to it all, she had avenged herself, she could start again with a clean slate, she could finally have some peace. Appreciating the scent of withered flowers, Metra knelt down next to her lifeless sister, pushing some pieces of her hair away from her face.

“You should have left him to me, little sis’. I would have had gladly let you have all Mom’s love.” The goddess declared, letting a little snort out before pulling the weapon out of her sister’s chest, observing it.

“Well, seems like you boys were right. It did kill Persephone.” The woman said, standing up and turning around towards the hunters with a smile.

When she looked at them again, the goddess only saw the dark looks the brothers were giving her. She couldn’t blame them, she had betrayed them after all and from the look of it, it wasn’t something they were planning to let her get away with. But unfortunately for them, she would be long gone before they could move again.

Sam and Dean clenched their jaws as she walked to them, playing with the stake in her hand before resting the end of it against the older brother’s chest. Dean glared at her, hating her very touch. He wanted to move, to grab her and stab her with this very stake just to see if it would hurt her. But he couldn’t even move his arm a little, trapped in his body and against the concrete wall. So the hunter did the only thing he could and glared at her, clenching his jaws until it hurt, showing her how much he hated her, how much he despised her and how much he wanted to hurt her.

At the dirty look the hunters were giving her, Metra decided to allow them to talk again, thinking that they had been restrained for long enough, forced to witness her beautiful work. So, with a light movement of her hand, she freed their mouths.

“You fucking bitch!” Dean shouted, a vein appearing on the side of his neck when he yelled while Sam gasped for air.

The goddess raised her eyebrows at the insult, tucking her chin and taking a step back while pointing the weapon at him.

“Wow, language.” She told him off, furrowing her eyebrows at the green-eyed man. “You were way more polite when you thought I was a poor, innocent victim.” Metra complained with a mocking smile and Dean wished he could grab this stake and drive it into her heart.

“Yeah, well, I have less sympathy for gods who kill innocent humans just because they got a beef with their sister over a stupid guy.” Dean vociferated, his eyes shooting daggers, still trying to free himself from the invisible grip around him.

At his words, Metra’s smile fell and she glared at him back. Taking a few steps towards him to press the sharp edge of the stake against Dean’s chest again, making the hunter grit his teeth at the feeling. Sam watched the scene, his eyes widening in fear of the goddess hurting his brother.

“Don’t!” Sam yelled, struggling against the invisible force, trying to make the goddess stop her actions before she did something irreversible. But Metra didn’t even give him a look, completely ignoring the scared hunter on her right, focusing on the one in front of her.

“Be careful on how you talk about him, human.” Metra warned, her voice low and threatening.

Dean didn’t let it appear, his face remaining focused and grave, but he was scared. His heart fastened in his chest, his blood running cold for a moment at the menacing brown eyes of the goddess, fearing for a second that he had pushed her too far and that he was going to face the consequences of his words. He had faced powerful monsters before and he had been scared but no matter what was happening inside him, he wasn’t going to show it to them. But the goddess didn’t burst his heart, the point of the weapon slightly piercing his skin was the only pain she inflicted him.

“Ah, yes, Adriana… that was very unfortunate.” She said with a smile, thinking about the girl she had chosen to bring the Winchesters in this town. It was true that Adriana had nothing to do with it, she was only a mean to an end, a very tragic end.

“I’m gonna kill you.” Dean swore, shooting daggers with his eyes. The hunter couldn’t stand her expression, hating the way she didn’t seem to care even a little about the death of the girl. She had sacrificed a human and this couldn’t be left alone, she couldn’t get away with it.

But at the genuine and serious threat, Metra grinned, biting her bottom lip. The goddess couldn’t help but love the sound of his menace, after all, she was starting to be pretty found of him.

“You’ve got a good heart, Dean. I was touched by the way you cared about my safety and pain, it had been centuries since anyone showed me such sympathy. But I have to admit, your threats are doing a whole new thing to me.” She declared, eyeing him up and down and winking at him. Dean rolled his eyes before looking away, annoyed by her inappropriate flirting.

“As for you, Sam,” she brought her attention to the younger brother who was already staring at her, “you almost saw right through me and I have to tell you that, it almost worried me for a second. You’re a smart man and I admire your distrust.” She declared and the hunter clenched his jaws, hating the way she was mocking them.

Then, stepping back and away from them, Metra took a deep breath, admiring the view of the immobilized hunters before her. She took a moment to study them both, the strength and courage that emanated from them, the way they didn’t show fear and didn’t look impressed when they perfectly knew she could end them both with a snap of her fingers. But she wasn’t going to, it was unnecessary and who knows who they might help her eliminate next time.

“I have to tell you boys, it was my first time working with hunters and I wasn’t disappointed. And I would like to thank you for helping me accomplish this.” She said, turning towards Persephone’s body laying on the floor. Letting a contemplating sigh out, she smiled.

Then, she turned back to Sam and Dean and raised the stake in her hand before kneeling down and put it on the ground. The brothers frowned at her action, wondering why she was leaving the weapon on the floor and when she stood up again, she answered her silent question.

“Well, I’ll leave you this here. Who knows, maybe you’ll need it again someday.” She shrugged, crossing her arms and taking a few more steps back. “I hope you don’t mind if I give myself a little head start. As much as a part of me would love to, may we not cross paths again. I’m afraid we won’t like the outcome.” She declared with a smile and before the brothers could say anything, she winked at them and disappeared before their eyes.

The brothers fell on the ground in a grunt, the invisible force Metra was controlling disappearing with her. Finally able to move as they pleased, the hunters turned to each others, making sure the other was alright before standing up. Sam hurried to Persephone, checking her pulse but quickly confirming her death. The tall man raised his head and saw his brother crouching down, picking up the weapon from the floor. Watching the blood on the edge of it, he tightened his grip around the stake.

They had lost this battle, they had let the goddess escape but it would have been a first if they stayed down and let the bad guy run away. This didn’t happen, not on their watch. Looking at the goddess’ dead body on the floor, Dean promised himself that he would find Metra again and kill her, and when he met his brother’s eyes, he knew Sam thought the same thing as him.

No one double-crossed the Winchesters and this goddess was going to learn this.

I hope you liked it ! Let me know if you did !  

Forever Taglist : @emilielbls @avanatural @awkward-and-indecisive  @roonyxx​ @waynes-multiverse @akshi8278 @snowlovespie @ghostofjoharvelle  

[pepprs]

not to be a pain-crazed wild animal. i KNOW i do this every time. but p*riods are so fucking crazy. like my cr*mps are so bad my body is trying to strangle itself but im awake and i need to be at work in 2 hrs and get thru an entire 9 hr workday as if im not in excruciating pain and im gonna bring my heating pad and my p*in r*lief cr*am if you catch my drift (💀) and i’ll need to use them DURING a busy day in which i will not see any other ppl who get periods in person and using them is gonna be a whole awkward thing. like omg. this is not fucking normal lol

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically. 

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling. 

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven���t been texting him either.  You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.” 

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise. 

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.  

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.” 

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration. 

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around. 

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.  

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?” 

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?” 

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay. 

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place. 

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.” 

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while. 

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself. 

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets. 

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.” 

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”. 

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work. 

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so. 

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break. 

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary. 

But something worries him. 

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better? 

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time. 

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?” 

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.” 

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.” 

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?” 

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”  

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking. 

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t. 

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.   

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.” 

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.” 

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes. 

“Are you really moping right now?” 

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.” 

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?” 

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it. 

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little. 

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?” 

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?” 

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower. 

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself. 

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.” 

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor. 

“You okay there?” 

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?” 

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?” 

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. 

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that.  __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?” 

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real. 

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.” 

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers. 

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one. 

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive. 

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car. 

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped. 

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes. 

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home. 

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh. 

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines? 

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately. 

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention. 

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin. 

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane. 

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans. 

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards. 

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south. 

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come. 

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked. 

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes. 

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more. 

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you  — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…” 

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him. 

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever. 

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”  

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself. 

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true. 

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes. 

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it. 

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore. 

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this? 

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it. 

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax. 

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine. 

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm. 

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs. 

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror. 

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship. 

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs. 

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.  

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly. 

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode. 

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all. 

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.  

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge. 

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?” 

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.” 

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all. 

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says. 

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay. 

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut. 

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.” 

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.” 

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.” 

You wince at her words. “Maybe.” 

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?” 

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still. 

“Have you talked to him?” 

Shoot. 

You shake your head a bit. 

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all. 

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern. 

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.” 

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods. 

As if the news was no surprise. 

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently. 

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.” 

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?” 

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky. 

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?” 

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry. 

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.” 

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now. 

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head. 

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.” 

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?” 

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature. 

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while. 

Do you just… not feel the same way? 

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering. 

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions. 

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.” 

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted. 

“You know what I think, honey?” 

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?” 

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you. 

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing. 

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already. 

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.” 

Your lips curl into a tight line. 

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?” 

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you. 

It’s always been Jungkook. 

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing. 

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time. 

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly. 

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor. 

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down. 

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing. 

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending. 

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place. 

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at. 

“I miss you.” 

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said. 

It was. 

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it. 

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened. 

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

That was as honest as you could get. 

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it. 

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away. 

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head. 

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused. 

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next. 

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out. 

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face. 

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor. 

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime. 

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be. 

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon. 

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!” 

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not. 

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.   

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious. 

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again. 

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—” 

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.” 

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

“I know.” 

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

At that, you can’t help but react immediately. 

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit. 

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed. 

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” 

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?” 

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.” 

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?” 

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?” 

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?” 

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.” 

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” 

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?” 

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now. 

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.” 

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction. 

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.” 

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together. 

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.” 

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.” 

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.” 

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.” 

“Why?” 

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.” 

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time. 

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.” 

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?” 

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.” 

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.” 

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments. 

You wince. “You know?” 

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation. 

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?” 

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.” 

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?” 

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.” 

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.” 

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?” 

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.” 

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?” 

Your brows furrow. “You know her?” 

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.” 

“Oh.” 

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.” 

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…” 

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.” 

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…” 

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days.  “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.” 

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?” 

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.” 

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.” 

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."  

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.” 

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.” 

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment. 

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 

So Jungkook is home. 

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook. 

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place. 

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments. 

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 

What does this mean? 

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him. 

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop. 

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?” 

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Yeah.” 

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another. 

It breaks your heart that’s the current case. 

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 

“Yeah.” 

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop. 

You give him a small smile. 

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper. 

“It’s not final.” 

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.” 

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.” 

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.” 

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?” 

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth. 

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words. 

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop. 

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.” 

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you. 

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business. 

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it. 

“__?” 

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him. 

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair. 

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?” 

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.” 

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly. 

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here. 

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone. 

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days. 

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman. 

You just really don’t know how to handle this one. 

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since. 

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger. 

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”. 

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end. 

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow? 

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me.  gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber. 

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind. 

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually. 

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine? 

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth. 

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again. 

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself. 

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick. 

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow. 

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity. 

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people? 

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.” 

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected. 

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you. 

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead. 

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?” 

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?” 

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit. 

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?” 

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?” 

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?” 

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.” 

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it? 

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not? 

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green. 

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.” 

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.” 

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk. 

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–” 

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now. 

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit. 

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.” 

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods. 

“Alright.” 

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad. 

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook. 

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end. 

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. ���Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze. 

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration. 

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away. 

You and Mingyu both look at your food. 

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly. 

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up. 

“Okay.” 

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?” 

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity. 

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.” 

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.” 

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying. 

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.” 

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself. 

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.” 

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you. 

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave. 

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine. 

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily. 

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties. 

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time. 

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval. 

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river. 

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition. 

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that. 

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality. 

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened. 

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all. 

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that. 

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not. 

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.” 

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day. 

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you? 

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder. 

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it… 

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing. 

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?” 

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.” 

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?” 

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?” 

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.” 

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”  

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it. 

“I told you that never happened.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?” 

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it. 

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor. 

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.” 

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?” 

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him. 

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience. 

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy. 

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well. 

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up. 

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again. 

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that. 

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.” 

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke. 

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.” 

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play. 

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song. 

“Can I?” He says. 

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.” 

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her. 

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.” 

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch. 

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays. 

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.” 

You wince. “What’s the next step?” 

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet. 

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well. 

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet. 

“Wikihow.” 

“Wow.” 

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.” 

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.” 

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.” 

“Even better.” 

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest. 

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.” 

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.” 

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?” 

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist. 

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is. 

You chuckle. “What’s this?” 

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.” 

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?” 

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again. 

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times. 

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it. 

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.” 

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing. 

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you. 

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.” 

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes. 

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.” 

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?” 

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.” 

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?” 

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way. 

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent. 

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.” 

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles. 

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.” 

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.” 

“What?” 

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.” 

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?” 

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile. 

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.” 

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features. 

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks. 

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.” 

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something. 

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?” 

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.” 

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.” 

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle. 

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.” 

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?” 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?” 

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you. 

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home. 

“Need a ride?” 

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him. 

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point. 

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?” 

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away. 

“Sorta, kinda…�� 

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.” 

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears. 

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot. 

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?” 

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?” 

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.” 

You slump in your chair hearing that. 

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep. 

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it. 

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing. 

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there. 

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am. 

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now. 

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then. 

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head. 

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well. 

Maybe Jungkook did all that. 

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly. 

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom. 

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?” 

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?” 

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?” 

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?” 

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.” 

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?” 

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.” 

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart. 

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you. 

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air? 

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave? 

You find yourself getting annoyed. 

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom. 

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal. 

You sigh. 

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life. 

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile. 

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking. 

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?” 

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?” 

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.” 

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused. 

“Are you… still drunk?” 

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?” 

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.” 

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.” 

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.” 

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.” 

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him. 

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely. 

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.” 

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it. 

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile. 

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.” 

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic. 

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different. 

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines. 

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts. 

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.” 

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.” 

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown. 

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?” 

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder. 

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.” 

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.” 

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.” 

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in. 

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?” 

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.” 

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.” 

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.” 

He chuckles. “What is it?” 

“Let’s talk more.” 

“How are you still not sleepy?” 

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?” 

“Yes.” 

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”  

“Really? Never?” 

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?” 

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”   

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything. 

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.” 

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding. 

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine? 

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal. 

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.” 

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.” 

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?” 

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?” 

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face. 

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.” 

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.” 

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.” 

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head. 

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.” 

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—” 

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.” 

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.” 

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant. 

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.” 

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.” 

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other… 

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.” 

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like. 

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.” 

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.” 

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him. 

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I would really love that.” 

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[idksmtms]

To Love, What A Curse (Aegon II x Little Sister!reader, Unrequited!Aemond x Little Sister!reader)

A/N: It’s taken me a week to get over Aemond’s betrayal but this was written at the height of my pain. 

Summary: (S2 episode 4 spoilers) You watch from a distance as Aemond and Vhagar send your husband and his dragon tumbling to the Earth. You land in the newly created clearing to find Aemond intent on murdering your beloved. 

Word count: 3,880

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, canon typical incest, INCEST, age gap between reader and siblings because I needed it for a part of the plotline but I didn’t specify it, slightly obsessive reader, ig toxic codependency between reader and Aegon, unrequited love, angst, like a lot of angst, like ANGSTTTT, believing that a main character has died, Aemond Targaryen slander, (isn’t Aemond himself a warning??), SPOILERS: S2 Ep4, kinda smut? Like I describe the female body from a sexual male gaze, probs typos  (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

Even as a child, Aemond sometimes believed himself incapable of love. Not in a bad way, he did not feel he lost much without it, simply that he was incapable of it. Alicent, in the rare moment she chose to spend her time with her children, would read a story all about love, and he would find he could not understand it. He simply couldn’t relate. He had warm feelings for Alicent, a certain care for Helaena to be sure, but it was always belied by a certain numbness in his heart. 

And then suddenly… there you were. In his mind you appeared out of the fire. Like a dragon rising out of the ashes it created. In reality, you had been born just as he was reaching maturity, the age when you finally started remembering things for the rest of your lifetime. He had stood outside of Alicent’s birthing chambers, anxiously waiting for her to come out and tell him everything was fine. He could hear her screams, guttural and animalistic. He had only ever heard the dragons make such sounds. And then there was silence, a long moment of silence he would never forget because he knew not whether Alicent was dead, the child dead, everyone dead but him. Then the cry of a child, loud and shrill and rather annoying. 

He had pressed his ear to the door to try and listen, but all he got was cooing and hushing and the clatter of tools and the sloshing of water. It was but ten minutes later he almost fell forward into the room when someone opened the door. Alicent lay on the bed, shining with sweat, her beautiful red hair spread out all over the pillows and her eyes closed as she took deep breaths. A nursemaid on the side beckoned him inside as she gently swayed with a bundle of cloth wrapped in her arms. He wasn’t sure who to go to at first, Alicent or the short chubby woman with red cheeks who smiled warmer than Alicent ever had. He chose the latter, his intense curiosity to see the child surely contained in the bundle of cloth in her arms far outweighing the concern he had once held for Alicent. 

The nurse maid simply handed a young Aemond a little bundle of blankets with your little baby face peeking out of it. He stared at the pinched little face, this wriggling creature that was red all over. He believed that that was the first time in his life he had felt real love. Oh, and when you grasped onto his finger with your little hand, he felt he had been placed in a hot pan to gently heat up from the inside-out. From that moment on he had loved you. He had loved you so dearly that sometimes he snuck into the nursery just to watch you sleep. 

You were small, innocent, like a fresh snowflake fallen into the palm of his hand. You were to be protected at all costs, for the rest of his life. He willingly took up the challenge. Your entire childhood seemed a collection of memories of Aemond. Aemond cheering you on as you called ‘dracarys!’ for the first time. Aemond chasing you around the halls of the red keep when you wanted to play. Aemond distracting you when Alicent couldn’t be bothered to be your mother…  

Though it began as something innocent, something brotherly and sweet, it seemed the Targaryen curse for it to grow out of control. Suddenly a few years passed and you had become a woman. And suddenly he could not keep his eyes off of you no matter how hard he tried. One night, some moons after your eighteenth nameday, he had come to your quarters to return a book he had stolen at some point during the day. Not realising that you had had a rather difficult day, that you had wished to bathe in peace, you had sent all your maids away. He had walked in on you rising from your bath. No one had been there to stop him or usher him out, and he had stood there, frozen, watching you jump and try to cover yourself with your hands before grabbing the robe left on one of the tables beside the bathtub. He had dropped his head, his remaining eye shuttering open and closed like the wings of a butterfly. A short and quick ‘my apologies’ left his mouth and he walked back out. But the image came with him. 

You, shiny and wet, glistening in the light of the fire. The sound of the water dripping off of you and back into the bathtub, little plink plink plink sounds as they hit the edges. Your hair, darkened at the edges and sticking haphazardly to the skin of your shoulders. Your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. The space between them that was just shadowed enough that he could only see the top where your lips began to separate… He could not sleep for days for fear of encountering the image again behind closed eyes, in the free land of his dreams.  

You were sweet, and kind, a bit of a miracle considering the situation you had been raised in, and it suddenly seemed an unfair expectation for him not to fall in love with you. Had you not been made for him? Crafted by the same womb to be his for eternity? You defied everyone with your kindness devoted to him. You made him smile with your smile, made him dance as you danced. You sang little songs you made up in your head and cuddled into his side so he could read to you in High Valyrian. You seemed just as attached to him as he was to you. You were perfect… except for one thing. What he considered your fatal flaw. Your unending, almost obsessive devotion to Aegon. 

Mayhaps you had had the same effect on Aegon as you had had with him. Maybe it was simply that you had slowly made Aegon partial to you by being that sweet creature that you were. Though he believed anything possible when it came to you, he was never quite sure how you had changed Aegon. If not for everyone, but at least for you. It was obvious to the eyes of those who could view into House Targaryen that Aegon, described by his closest family as a hedonistic wastrel, cared for you, took care of you, hid from you all the deficiencies of his character. No one could make head or tail of it. How did you differ from Helaena or Aemond or even distant Daeron? You, conceived exactly the same way as the others, related to him exactly the same way as the others, were no different to the siblings he already had. But he thought Helaena weird, thought Aemond a rather pathetic and easy target, didn’t think of Daeron at all, and viewed the rest of his life as an excuse to get drunk. Aemond believed it to be your kindness that, if capable of piercing his own stony disposition, could easily curl up around Aegon’s fragile heart and devote him to you.  

In truth, out of all of his siblings, you had simply been the one to truly love Aegon, whether he wanted it or not. You seemed to make up for all the love he lacked from every other person in his life. You saw him as the eldest, the one to look up to, the one to lavish with love and devotion in your position as the youngest. He would be the one to protect you, the one to treat you as his littlest and most loved one. Wishful or not, all the stories told you that this was his position. Though Aemond spent most of his time looking after you, being the protector, you did not seem to hold him in esteem for it. He was simply there. 

At first, Aegon had failed in these expectations of yours. He had not bothered to spend time with you, not bothered to indulge in the love you so freely offered him. He believed you were just another creature created by Alicent to look down upon him. Another person to disappoint with his shortcomings. He later considered those his lowest moments. But then he had seen the way your face fell when he had shooed you away, saw the way tears collected at the corners of your eyes when you offered him a flower and he had barely turned. Slowly, he began to humour you, smiling widely when you offered him the flower once more. Not shooing you away anymore, but simply telling you that he would come find you when he was available to do it. He pressed kisses to your little cheeks and tickled your stomach. And with this care returned, your devotion grew. 

He remembered vividly the first time he had truly noticed not only how much he cared for you, but how much you seemed to care for him in return. He had taken the blame for you once, when Alicent had walked into her living quarters and found a jug of wine spilled all over the floor. You had dropped it in your bid to reach up and grab it, hoping to sip from the jug though you weren’t allowed wine yet. Aegon had claimed it was him, that he was too drunk to see properly (when in fact he had been sober for the first time in a long time). He had been sent to bed without being allowed any dinner, and Alicent had raged at him for twenty minutes about his lack of duty, respect, propriety. But then you had snuck to his room after everyone had gone to bed with two plates filled to the brim with food. He felt he had never eaten better in his entire life. You had sat with him, giggling then shushing yourself as you looked up at him starry eyed. You seemed to give him all the kindness and love you possessed in your body, and he was ready to take. Frankly, he had nowhere else to get it from anyway. 

Maybe some part of you had always believed that you and Aegon were meant for each other, but you truly seemed to realise it the night Aemond read you the Targaryen histories. He had started at the beginning, telling you all about Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives. You had sat up on his bed, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face him as you listened, enraptured. As Aemond spoke of the love Aegon bestowed upon Rhaenys, you thought of your Aegon. Of course, it all made sense now, you were destined. He was Aegon, and you would be his sister-wife, his Rhaenys, meant to be as it was in the greatest of histories. 

When your dragons mated, your beauty and his Sunfyre, it felt cemented into fate. It would have to be so. The gods had deemed it. When Otto and the council began clamouring for the children to be married, particularly Aegon, Alicent had gone to pray every day in the sept for a fortnight before allowing your betrothal. You secretly believed that she was praying for the gods to intervene somehow but you knew they were the ones that had chosen this. 

When your betrothal was announced, it was the first time neither you nor he had complained about a decision made by Alicent or the council. Alicent had called all of you to her chambers, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, and you, to announce it, and neither you nor Aegon had a word to say in dissent. You had simply turned to each other and nodded, little hidden smiles only visible in the dancing of your eyes. Of course neither of you noticed the way Aemond clenched his fists behind his back, or the stony glare he switched between Alicent and Aegon. He had come over, kissed you on the cheek and whispered his congratulations as you hugged him animatedly.  

Aegon had even kissed you for the first time the night of your betrothal ball, hidden in an alcove at the darkest part of the night, hands buried in your hair, tilting your head back and pressing his mouth to yours as if he wanted to devour you starting at the lips. He had whispered ‘I love you’s’ in your ear the entire evening and you danced with no one else. 

Aemond was not sure when you broke his heart the most. When you had gushed to him all evening about your elation at being betrothed to Aegon, when you had seemingly forgotten his existence the night of your betrothal ball, or the evening you announced you were pregnant with Jahaerys and Jahaera. 

People seemed to tread carefully around you after Jahaerys’s death. You believed this to be the reason you found out too late that Aegon had taken off to Rook’s Rest. 

Every day, at some random point in the day, you would seek out Aegon, and the both of you would sit curled up together eating biscuits, drinking wine, and comforting each other. In the aftermath of Jahaerys’s death you had thought that was a necessity lest he try and run from you in his grief. Though he had still bludgeoned the man to death, had still had all the ratcatchers hanged, you were simply happy that he did not hide from you. 

In that spirit, you had gone in search of him, only to find out he had left an hour ago to chase down the battle after conversing with Alicent. You were forced to waste a little more time to change into your riding clothes as your beauty was saddled, though you had abandoned the attempts of your ladies maids trying to pull an extra blouse over your head. You wore only a simple tunic over your chemise and ran for the dragonpit. 

You weren’t quite sure why the gods wanted to punish you so. Your baby, little Jahaerys, was his death not enough? You were late, but not late enough to be spared the vision from a distance of Aemond commanding Vhagar to attack Sunfyre and Aegon. Your heart was in your throat, choking you. Your grip on the reins loosened, and as you watched Sunfyre tumble down from the sky, your dragon shrieked and began flying even faster. You heard the crash, even from how far you were. Your hands were sweaty and cold, and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be off the dragon. You began unclipping yourself from the saddle, ready to slip off and plummet to the ground. Your mind was running so fast you couldn’t grasp a thought, only saw what you saw, heard what you heard, and felt what you felt. There were no words. But you stopped yourself, clipped yourself back in, and let yourself be brought ever closer to Aegon in whatever condition you would find him. 

Aemond watched the forest floor burn around Aegon without a single feeling. He watched the embers on Aegon’s body, sizzling away at his hair and skin. He watched the soot gather on Aegon’s armour, watched Sunfyre huff and writhe in pain as the fire continued its relentless assault all over their bodies. He did not feel anything. No remorse, no fear, no sadness. There was no happiness either, no joy or elation. There was simply nothing. 

His sword was in his hand, pulled mostly out of the scabbard, when he heard rustling behind him. He turned slightly, just enough so his remaining eye could gaze on the intruder, and he saw you. At first he blinked, once and then twice to be sure you were there and not a mirage in the heat. But then he saw the way you were looking at him, the creases around your eyes and mouth as you gasped, mouth agape in pain. Your breaths were ragged, and you were still mostly hidden in the brush, but he could see your face so clearly, as if you had been outlined against the shrubbery. The face that he had watched grow out of its baby fat and into the shape of the young woman that you were. The face that had once smiled brightly in his direction and sought him out for comfort. The face that he had loved so dearly. The face that now burned with rage. 

“You-you traitor! You coward! You have no loyalty, no respect!” You sounded almost hysterical as you spoke, clambering over shrubbery and shattered branches. Aemond stared at you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, each word laced with the deepest pain one could possibly experience, a half-sob half-choking sound. Your cheeks were bright red and shiny with sweat, you had shed your riding coat and your grey pants were covered in sap from clambering over a tree trunk. Aemond thought you had never looked more beautiful. “You truly are self-serving, and-and cruel.” Each word hit him in the chest as if Vhagar was breathing fire directly at him. He would not care if it had not been you saying these words. His grip on his sword tightened as he watched you begin to shed tears (though you already had dried tracks down your cheeks), hurrying around and looking for a way through the circle of fire around Aegon and Vhagar. You turned to him for a moment, a singular moment, and his heart stopped dead at the way your face was contorted in pain and anger and pure hatred. Your eyebrows knitted by a crease above your nose bridge, your mouth pulling back at the corners and your eyes burning like wildfire. “You’re a monster.” 

The word seemed to echo in the forest, even above the sound of the fire. His mouth was slightly open, his breaths heaving as he stared at you with a sense of his body crumbling. Not once in the entire battle had he felt this close to devastation. Not once in his life. Even in the darkest nightmares he experienced, not once did he ever imagine you saying these words to him, to look at him so… 

Aemond had not once cared about Aegon’s wellbeing in his entire life. Even now, he did not care about it. If Aegon died he would not shed a tear. In all honesty, he would be more inclined to smile, but watching you walk through fire to get to that manic drunk’s body sent a spear through his heart. Why? Why were you so willing to succumb to your own death for that fool? Why, throughout your entire lives have you always chosen Aegon, when he was standing right here, ready, rather, impatient, to love you? He would have raised his sword and begun walking again, a certain defiance suddenly filling him to the brim, had it not been for the way you began to wail at the sight of Aegon. 

It was a wail of death. He did not think a person was capable of this sound. Around him in the forest, another high keening sound began. It was your dragon, head raised to the sky, mouth open and roaring like the pain was within her. Then, behind him, with the very ground rumbling as she rose, Vhagar raised her head to the sky and roared so loud that legend states it was heard from the Wall to the southernmost tip of Dorne. Even Sunfyre, with his last breaths, keened in pain and joined the cacophony. Aemond pressed his hands to his ears and waited for it to cease. A war was being waged on him, inside and out. 

He closed his eyes, trying to forget you, forget the pain you inflicted on him simply by being in pain, but the gods would not let him. 

You were on the floor now, hands shaking as you reached out to pull Aegon’s half-singed body onto your lap. You were caressing his hair, rocking back and forth and crying salty tears directly onto his wounds. Aemond could not move. However much he wanted to walk toward you, wanted to walk away from you, the gods had set him to his place. You turned your head up to look at him through the fire, shaking and hiccuping. Your eyes were so full with tears that he could only see light reflected in them. 

“What did you hope to get out of this?!” You sobbed, almost screaming with the pain. It was minutes before you could even speak again.“Did you expect I would suddenly love you? Did you think you could buy me with a crown?” 

There it was, finally out in the open. The truth both of you had danced around since you had become of marrying age. You had known, of course you had known, though he had never been overly blatant about it, it was obvious that he had favoured you. The night your betrothal to Aegon had been announced, Aemond had gone to Alicent to beg her to change it, to offer Aegon Helaena's hand instead. But she had been adamant. His grandsire and Viserys had stated that it would be best for Aegon to marry a sister, prattle about emulating Aegon the Conqueror and preserving the purity of the King’s bloodline. It made sense to marry him to the youngest. Helaena could still be used to marry for advantage, a second child but first daughter held more sway. 

He could see that secretly his mother was happy to betroth Aegon to you. She didn’t want her youngest daughter to leave. She was by far more attached to you than any of her other children, and if you hadn’t married Aegon you would’ve been sent off. One marriage between siblings was enough, the rest were simply assets in a bigger game. 

Now, as Aemond looked at you, he could see none of the love you had once bestowed on him. The face he had once longed to caress, the lips he had once wished to kiss, all appalled at the sight of him. You had never sneered at him this way before, never even turned your face or voice to him in a negative way before. Maybe this was a nightmare, and soon he would wake up, sweating and panting and looking around with fright, before seeking you out, happy to discover that you were still unmarried, and ready to cuddle him to sleep.

You clung to Aegon even tighter as you glared at Aemond through your tears, just a blurry black spot in a sea of green. “If I was even capable of loving a creature like you before you did this,” you spat with such venomous rage that even Vhagar bristled behind Aemond. “I am incapable of it now.” You turned your head back down to Aegoon, and seemed to curl your body around him like a dragon curling over her eggs. The edges of your dress caught fire and slowly began to burn but you let it, not even feeling the heat. 

Ser Criston found the three of you like that, as if suspended in time. 

Taglist: @summerposie, @izuoyarmin 

A/n: Tell me. Was Aemond or Reader right about why Alicent didn’t refuse the betrothal between reader and Aegon? 

[pucksandpower]

War Is Over

Lewis Hamilton x Rosberg!Reader

Summary: Lewis parks his car … right into his best friend-turned-nemesis’ little sister (and somehow reunites Brocedes in the process)

Warnings: descriptions of serious injury

Note: the fact that he not only won a race again but it was his home race … this calls for a Lewis Hamilton fic 🥹

The Monaco sun glints off sleek sports cars lining the streets as Lewis navigates his Mercedes through the winding roads. He’s running late for dinner with some sponsors and the traffic is only making things worse.

Lewis mutters under his breath, “Come on, come on. Just need to park this thing ...”

He spots an open space in front of the restaurant and starts to maneuver in, glancing at his watch. The ticking seconds only increase his frustration.

“Bloody hell, why is parking always such a nightmare here?”

Lewis throws the car into reverse, not bothering to look behind him. He’s done this a thousand times before. What could possibly go wrong?

The sickening thud comes a split second before he slams on the brakes. His heart leaps into his throat as he whips around, praying he just hit a trash bin or something.

But the crumpled form on the ground is undeniably human.

“Oh God, oh God, no ...” Lewis fumbles with his seatbelt, hands shaking as he bursts out of the car. “Please be okay, please be okay ...”

He drops to his knees beside the prone figure, a young woman with long hair obscuring her face. Blood is already pooling beneath her head.

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Lewis gently brushes the hair back, and his world stops.

It’s you. Nico’s little sister. The girl he’s known since she was in pigtails, cheering from the sidelines at their early karting races.

Lewis’ jaw drops open as the full horror of what he’s done sinks in. “Y/N? Oh God, Y/N, please wake up!”

He cradles your head, heedless of the blood staining his designer shirt. Your eyes remain closed, skin alarmingly pale.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Lewis shouts, his voice cracking with panic. “Please, somebody help!”

A crowd starts to gather, murmurs of shock and recognition rippling through them. Lewis barely notices, focused solely on your still form.

“Y/N, come on, open your eyes. Please, you have to be okay,” he pleads, gently patting your cheek. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I swear I didn’t mean to ...”

Your eyelids flutter, a soft groan escaping your lips. Lewis nearly sobs with relief.

“That’s it, that’s it. Can you hear me? It’s Lewis. You’re going to be alright.”

Your eyes open, unfocused and confused. “Lewis? What ... what happened?”

“Don’t try to move, okay? There was an accident. Help is on the way.”

You try to sit up, wincing in pain. “My head ...”

“Shh, just stay still. I’ve got you.” Lewis supports your shoulders, keeping you from moving too much.

“Did ... did you hit me with your car?” Your voice is small, disbelieving.

Lewis swallows hard. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t see you, I swear. God, Y/N, I would never ...”

You manage a weak smile. “Always knew you’d be the death of me, Hamilton.”

Despite everything, Lewis can’t help but chuckle. “Don’t joke about that. You scared me half to death.”

“Sorry to ruin your evening,” you mumble, eyes starting to drift closed again.

“Hey, hey, stay with me.” Lewis gently taps your cheek. “Keep those eyes open, okay? Talk to me.”

You force your eyes open. “About what?”

“Anything. Tell me ... tell me what you’re doing in Monaco. Are you visiting Nico?”

You shake your head slightly, then wince. “No, I ... I moved here. Got a job at the yacht club.”

“Really? That’s great. When did that happen?”

“Few months ago. Needed ... needed a change of scenery.”

Lewis nods, desperately trying to keep you engaged. “I get that. Monaco’s beautiful. Although the parking situation leaves something to be desired,” he adds wryly.

You manage a weak laugh, then grimace. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lewis glances around anxiously. “Where’s that damn ambulance?”

As if on cue, sirens wail in the distance. Lewis breathes a sigh of relief.

“Help’s coming, Y/N. Just hang on a little longer, okay?”

You nod slightly, eyes becoming unfocused again. “Lewis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t tell Nico.”

Lewis’ heart clenches. “Y/N ...”

“Please. He’ll kill you. And then me. For being stupid enough to walk behind a car without looking.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Lewis insists. “I should have checked my mirrors. I was distracted, rushing ...”

You shake your head stubbornly. “Promise me. Don’t tell him.”

Lewis hesitates. “Y/N, I can’t just ...”

“Promise,” you repeat, gripping his arm with surprising strength.

Lewis sighs. “Okay, okay. I promise. But he’s going to find out eventually.”

“Let me handle it. When I’m not ... you know. Bleeding on the pavement.”

The ambulance pulls up, paramedics jumping out. Lewis reluctantly moves aside to let them work, hovering anxiously.

“Sir, can you tell us what happened?” One of the paramedics asks as they begin assessing your injuries.

Lewis runs a hand through his hair. “I ... I hit her with my car. I was backing up and didn’t see her. It was an accident, I swear.”

The paramedic nods, focused on taking your vitals. “Miss, can you tell me your name?”

“Y/N Rosberg,” you mumble.

The paramedic’s eyes widen slightly in recognition, but he remains professional. “Alright, Y/N. We’re going to get you to the hospital. Just try to stay still for me.”

As they prepare to move you onto a stretcher, Lewis steps forward. “Can I ride with her?”

The paramedic hesitates. “Are you family?”

“No, but I’m ... I’m responsible for this. Please, I need to make sure she’s okay.”

You reach out weakly, grasping Lewis’ hand. “Let him come. He’s ... he’s family.”

The paramedic nods. “Alright, but stay out of the way.”

As they load you into the ambulance, Lewis climbs in beside you, still holding your hand. The doors slam shut and the sirens wail as they speed towards the hospital.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Lewis says softly.

You give his hand a weak squeeze. “Couldn’t let you ... sulk all night. You’d probably ... crash into a street lamp next.”

Lewis chuckles despite himself. “There’s that Rosberg wit. You sound just like your brother sometimes.”

You grimace. “Don’t insult me when I’m down, Hamilton.”

The banter feels surreal given the circumstances, but Lewis is grateful for it. It keeps the crushing guilt at bay, if only for a moment.

“Y/N, I ...” he starts, then falters. “I don’t even know how to begin to apologize.”

You shake your head slightly. “Later. When everything ... stops spinning.”

Lewis nods, throat tight. He watches the paramedics work, feeling utterly helpless.

“Tell me something,” you murmur after a moment.

“What?”

“Anything. Distract me.”

Lewis thinks for a moment. “Did I ever tell you about the time Nico and I got lost in Ibiza?”

You manage a small smile. “No. Spill.”

As Lewis launches into the story, embellishing for comedic effect, he can’t help but marvel at your resilience. Here you are, cracking jokes and asking for stories while bleeding from a head wound he caused.

The guilt threatens to overwhelm him again, but he pushes it aside. Right now, keeping you conscious and calm is what matters. There will be time for apologies and recriminations later.

As the ambulance weaves through Monaco’s narrow streets, Lewis silently vows to make this right, whatever it takes. He may have destroyed his friendship with Nico, but he won’t let you pay the price for their rivalry.

The hospital looms ahead, and Lewis squeezes your hand. “We’re almost there, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You meet his eyes, a flicker of something — trust? forgiveness? — passing between you. “I know,” you whisper. “I’ve got my guardian angel, after all. Even if he is a bit rubbish at parking.”

Lewis laughs, the sound catching in his throat. As they wheel you into the emergency room, he realizes with startling clarity that nothing will ever be the same after tonight.

But looking at your brave smile as the doctors surround you, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, that might not be such a bad thing.

***

The steady beep of the heart monitor fills the hushed hospital room. Lewis sits hunched in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. The stark white bandage wrapped around your head is a constant reminder of his guilt.

A nurse pops her head in. “Mr. Hamilton? There’s someone here to see-”

She’s cut off as Nico barges past her, his face a mask of fury. “You son of a bitch.“

Nico’s fist is already swinging towards Lewis’ face when a doctor in a white coat steps between them. “Gentlemen! This is a hospital, not a boxing ring!”

Nico’s momentum carries him forward, nearly stumbling into the doctor. He catches himself, chest heaving as he glares daggers at Lewis.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Nico snarls.

Lewis stands, hands raised placatingly. “Nico, I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain how you nearly killed my sister?” Nico’s voice rises, causing you to stir in the bed.

The doctor clears his throat. “Mr. Rosberg, I presume? I’m Dr. Moreau. Perhaps we should step outside to discuss your sister’s condition.”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn between getting information and pummeling Lewis. Finally, he nods curtly. “Fine. But this isn’t over, Hamilton.”

As they step into the hallway, Lewis sinks back into his chair, running a hand over his face. He glances at you, relieved to see you’ve settled back into sleep.

In the corridor, Dr. Moreau speaks in low, measured tones. “Mr. Rosberg, your sister suffered a severe concussion and a fractured skull. There was some internal bleeding, but we’ve managed to stabilize that.”

Nico’s knees go weak, and he leans against the wall for support. “Oh God ...”

“She also has three broken ribs, a fractured wrist, and various cuts and bruises,” the doctor continues. “Frankly, it’s a miracle she wasn’t more seriously injured. The impact could easily have been fatal.”

Nico slides down the wall, sitting heavily on the floor. “She ... she almost died?”

Dr. Moreau nods gravely. “It was touch and go for a while. But she’s young and strong. With time and proper care, we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Nico buries his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. After a moment, he looks up, eyes red-rimmed. “Can I see her?”

“Of course. But please, try to stay calm. She needs rest.”

Nico nods, pulling himself to his feet. He takes a deep breath before re-entering the room.

Lewis stands as Nico approaches the bed. “Nico, I-”

“Save it,” Nico snaps, but there’s less venom in his voice now. He gently takes your hand, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

Your eyes flutter open. “Nico?” You mumble groggily.

“Hey, little sis,” Nico says softly, managing a weak smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car,” you deadpan.

Lewis winces, but Nico actually chuckles. “Well, your sense of humor is intact, at least.”

You try to sit up, grimacing in pain. Lewis and Nico both move to help, then freeze, glaring at each other.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Both of you, help me up. And then explain why you look ready to kill each other. Again.”

With their combined efforts, they manage to prop you up against the pillows. You look expectantly between them.

Nico breaks first. “How can you even ask that? He nearly killed you!”

“It was an accident,” you insist.

“An accident?” Nico scoffs. “He hit you with his car!”

“Which I’m pretty sure he didn’t do on purpose,” you retort. “Right, Lewis?”

Lewis nods emphatically. “God, no. Y/N, I swear, I never saw you. I was distracted, rushing ... but I would never intentionally hurt you. You have to believe that.”

Nico’s jaw clenches. “Maybe not intentionally. But your carelessness nearly cost my sister her life. How am I supposed to forgive that?”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Lewis says quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself. But Y/N is the one who was hurt. Shouldn’t it be her choice?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “Exactly. And I choose to forgive you, Lewis. It was an accident. A stupid, awful accident, but still an accident.”

Nico shakes his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you can’t be serious. You’re lying in a hospital bed because of him!”

“And he’s been by my side ever since,” you counter. “He rode in the ambulance with me, held my hand through all the tests and scans. He’s barely left this room in hours.”

Lewis looks down, uncomfortable with the praise. “It was the least I could do.”

Nico runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “That doesn’t change what happened.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you agree. “But it shows he cares. That he’s taking responsibility.”

“I’ll pay for all her medical expenses,” Lewis adds quickly. “And anything else she needs for her recovery. It’s the least I can do.”

Nico snorts. “You think you can just throw money at this and make it go away?”

“No!” Lewis insists. “I know nothing can undo what happened. But I want to help however I can.”

You reach out, grabbing both their hands. “Listen to me, both of you. I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I don’t have the energy for your macho posturing right now.”

They both have the grace to look ashamed.

“Nico, I love you, but you need to calm down,” you continue. “Lewis made a mistake, a big one. But he’s trying to make amends. And frankly, I need both of you right now. I can’t deal with you at each other’s throats on top of everything else.”

Nico’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ... when I got that call, saying you were in the hospital ... I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

You squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’m okay. Or I will be. And having you two fighting isn’t going to help me get better any faster.”

Lewis clears his throat. “She’s right. Nico, I know you have every right to hate me right now. But can we please call a truce? For Y/N’s sake?”

Nico hesitates, clearly torn. Finally, he nods stiffly. “Fine. A truce. But only for Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, relaxing back against the pillows. “Now, can one of you please get me some water? And maybe sneak in some real food? I’m starving and the hospital jello isn’t cutting it.”

Lewis jumps up. “I’ll go. Nico, you stay with her. I’ll be right back.”

As Lewis hurries out, Nico settles into the chair beside your bed. “You sure you’re okay, little sis?”

You manage a small smile. “I’ve been better. But I’ve also been worse.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “When have you been worse than having a cracked skull and broken ribs?”

“Remember when I was eight and fell out of that tree in the backyard?”

Nico chuckles. “God, I thought Mama was going to have a heart attack. You were so stubborn, insisting you could climb higher than me.”

“Still can,” you tease.

“Maybe hold off on the tree climbing for a while, yeah?”

You pretend to pout. “Spoilsport.”

The banter feels good, normal. For a moment, you can almost forget you’re in a hospital bed.

Nico’s expression turns serious. “Y/N, are you really okay with forgiving Lewis so easily? You don’t have to, you know. Not for my sake or anyone else’s.”

You sigh. “I know. And believe me, I’m not thrilled about the whole getting hit by a car thing. But Nico, you should have seen his face when he realized it was me. He was devastated.”

“He should be,” Nico grumbles.

“I’m not saying there won’t be consequences,” you continue. “But I don’t believe for a second he meant to hurt me. And holding onto anger isn’t going to help me heal any faster.”

Nico studies your face for a long moment. “When did you get so wise, little sister?”

You grin. “I’ve always been the smart one in the family. You were just too busy crashing karts to notice.”

Nico laughs, then sobers. “I was so scared, Y/N. When they called and said you were in the hospital ... all I could think was that I couldn’t lose you.”

You squeeze his hand. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. It’ll take more than Lewis Hamilton’s terrible parking skills to take out a Rosberg.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Nico says, but he’s smiling.

Lewis returns then, arms laden with bags. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I got a bit of everything. Sandwiches, fruit, some pasta salad ... oh, and chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

You beam at him. “My hero.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but there’s less hostility in it now. “Is this really the time for sweets?”

Lewis grins sheepishly. “Hey, chocolate has healing properties. I read that somewhere.”

“Sounds like solid medical advice to me,” you chime in, already reaching for a candy bar.

As Lewis unpacks the food, a tentative peace settles over the room. It’s fragile, built on shared concern for you rather than any real reconciliation between the two men. But it’s a start.

You watch them, noting how they unconsciously mirror each other’s movements as they fuss over arranging the food on your tray. For all their differences, for all the bad blood between them, there’s still an underlying connection there. Years of friendship and rivalry can’t be erased so easily.

“You know,” you say around a mouthful of sandwich, “this whole arch-enemies thing you two have going on is getting a bit old.”

They both look at you, startled.

“I mean, come on,” you continue. “You were best friends for years. You’ve known each other longer than most marriages last. Is it really worth throwing all that away over some stupid trophies?”

Nico frowns. “Y/N, it’s more complicated than that-”

“Is it, though?” You interrupt. “Because from where I’m sitting — or laying, I guess — it seems pretty simple. You both love racing. You’re both insanely competitive. And yeah, sometimes that caused friction. But at the end of the day, who else understands what you have been through better than each other?”

Lewis and Nico exchange uncomfortable glances.

“I’m not saying you have to be best buddies again,” you add. “But maybe ... I don’t know. Maybe you could try not actively hating each other? For my sake, if nothing else. I’m going to need both of you while I recover and I really don’t want to deal with World War III breaking out in my hospital room.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Finally, Lewis speaks up.

“She’s right,” he says quietly. “Nico, I know things have been ... difficult between us. And I know this situation hasn’t helped. But Y/N’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For her?”

Nico hesitates, then nods slowly. “I suppose we can try. But Lewis, I swear, if anything like this ever happens again-”

“It won’t,” Lewis says firmly. “I promise you, Nico. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

You beam at them both. “See? Was that so hard? Now, who’s going to help me eat all this food? Doctor’s orders, you know. Got to keep my strength up.”

As they both reach for the tray, playfully battling over who gets to hand you what, you can’t help but smile. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot. But it’s a beginning.

And really, you think as you watch the two most important men in your life grudgingly share a bag of crisps, sometimes beginnings are the best part of any story.

***

f1-fanatic-2024

[Image: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg exiting a hospital, walking side by side]

OMG IS THIS REAL??? Brocedes spotted together??? What year is it???

#what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

brocedes-no1-stan

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

I’m sorry, but are we just going to ignore the fact that they’re leaving a HOSPITAL??? Is everyone okay???

#concerned #hope everyone’s alright #but also lowkey excited

---

vintage-f1-vibes

Okay but why does this feel like a glitch in the matrix? Haven’t seen these two willingly in the same frame since like 2016 😭

#blast from the past #what year is it #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racing-queen-93

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

BROCEDES RISE!!! 🙌🙌🙌

My 2014 heart is SOARING right now. Never thought I’d see the day. BRB, gonna go cry in a corner.

#i’m not crying you’re crying #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1

---

silverarrows4ever

[Image set: Multiple angles of Lewis and Nico leaving the hospital, including one where they appear to be mid-conversation]

New Brocedes content in 2024? Maybe miracles do happen 😭

But seriously, hope everything’s okay. Weird to see them at a hospital.

#concerned but hopeful #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #f1 #brocedes

---

formula1-history-nerd

[reblogging silverarrows4ever’s post]

Okay, but can we talk about how neither of them has aged a day??? What kind of vampire magic-

#aging like fine wine #drop the skincare routine boys #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

Me: I’m over Brocedes, that ship has sailed

Also me seeing these pics: 🥺👉👈

#i’m weak okay #f1 #brocedes #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging f1-fanatic-2024’s post]

Everyone freaking out about Brocedes and I’m just wondering why they’re at a hospital??? Hope everyone’s okay!

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

f1-drama-central

BREAKING: Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg spotted leaving Princess Grace Hospital together. Sources say they arrived separately but left at the same time, engaging in what appeared to be civil conversation. More updates as the story develops!

#breaking news #what’s the tea #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

---

retro-racing-vibes

[reblogging f1-drama-central’s post]

2014 me is SCREAMING right now. 2024 me is cautiously optimistic but also kind of worried because ... hospital?

#conflicted feelings #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

formulaonefanatic

[Image: Close-up of Lewis and Nico talking, both with serious expressions]

Whatever brought them together, it looks serious. Hoping everyone’s okay. But also ... is it wrong that I’m a little excited to see them talking again?

#concerned but intrigued #brocedes #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg

***

f1-gossip-central

[Image set: Lewis, Nico, and Y/N on Lewis’ yacht. Another photo of Lewis kissing Y/N with Nico cringing in the background]

WHAT IS HAPPENING??? Lewis and Nico on the same boat??? Lewis kissing Nico’s sister??? I need answers!!!

#what timeline is this #i’m shook #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-ride-or-die

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

EXCUSE ME??? Lewis and Y/N??? When did this happen??? How did I miss this??? 😱😱😱

#new ship alert #what is happening #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

vintage-f1-drama

Okay but Nico’s face in that last pic is sending me 💀💀💀 Big protective brother energy

#siblings be like #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

formulaoneobsessed

[Image: Close-up of Lewis kissing Y/N]

New F1 power couple alert? 👀 But also, how is Nico okay with this?

#f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

racingheartstrings

[reblogging formulaoneobsessed’s post]

I can’t decide if this is the best or worst plot twist of the 2024 season 😂

Either way, I’m here for the drama!

#pass the popcorn #f1 #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg #nico rosberg

---

silverarrowsforever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico chatting on the yacht, looking relaxed]

Can we talk about how this is the most relaxed we’ve seen these two together in YEARS??? Whatever’s happening, it seems to be healing old wounds and I’m here for it 🙌

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes

---

f1-fanfiction-addict

Me: furiously rewriting all my Brocedes fics to include Y/N

The plot twist we never saw coming 😅

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg #fanfiction problems

---

speed-queen-101

[reblogging f1-gossip-central’s post]

Y’all are focused on the Lewis and Y/N kiss but can we appreciate how GOOD everyone looks??? That Monaco sun is doing wonders 😍

#glow up #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

formula1-history-buff

Imagine telling someone in 2016 that in 2024, Lewis would be dating Nico’s sister and they’d all be hanging out on Lewis’ yacht. They’d think you were crazy!

#how times change #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

racingdaydreams

[Image: Nico’s cringing face as Lewis kisses Y/N]

Tag yourself, I’m Nico 😂

#third wheel vibes #f1 #nico rosberg #lewis hamilton #y/n rosberg

---

fastcarsgovroomvroom

[reblogging racingdaydreams’ post]

Petition for a reality show following this trio because I would watch the HECK out of that

#make it happen netflix #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

f1-drama-queen

THEORY TIME: What if the hospital visit from last week was for Y/N??? And that’s what brought Lewis and Nico back together??? 🤔

#conspiracy theory #but makes sense #f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #y/n rosberg

---

brocedes-forever

[Image set: Lewis and Nico laughing together on the yacht]

My Brocedes heart is THRIVING right now. Yeah, the Lewis and Y/N thing is cute, but look at these two 😭❤️

#f1 #lewis hamilton #nico rosberg #brocedes #friendship goals

[d-targaryenshoe]

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dad!Simon who insisted you go on the vacation, because of course he can handle his baby girl and his six year old (almost six, but Ollie rounds up)

Simon who knew he had it in the bag....

for about two hours

Simon who made bagels for dinner; wassss this close 🤏to making Ollie eat dirt because WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't like bagels now you were begging for them in the store!

Simon who made it about forty hours before he gave him and called Johnny

Simon who had no idea why Ollie was being so gosh darn annoying

Simon who had previously made a bet with Price that he wouldn't need help so therefore he would rather die than call Price even though Ollie idolizes his 'grandfather'

''s Johnny, missed ya but leave a message at the lil' beep."

"John MacTavish I swear to god if you don' call me back in ten minutes I will personally post thos' pictures of ya in Afgan."

two minutes later-

"ya know that's a real low blow-"

"I need you to take Oliver to th' park- Tessie isn't goin to sleep with him 'roun."

"Call the capn, he's closer to ya."

"I will not do that."

"Ugh, fine- lemme tell my girl then'll be there in twenty."

Simon who told Oliver to behave for his uncle and then happily sent them away- which finally he would be able to put the exhausted newborn to sleep

Simon was finally able to doze off on the sofa, the baby happily snoozing away on his chest and everything seemed perfect with the world

"MISTER RILEY UNCLE JOHNNY IS IS-HES-" The thundering slam of the door being swung open not only woke up Simon but the baby who aptly began to sob to the sudden change of pace, Oliver however did not care "UNCLE JOHNNY SUCKS."

Uncle Johnny told Ollie not to kick the ball into the river

Simon who is flabbergasted because even Johnny looked shook to his core, sure they had been at the park for about five hours but like-???

John MacTavish...brought down .... by Simon's six year old

Simon who, after ten minutes of the baby screaming for their mother and refusing to take their bottle with disgruntled wails of pain and Ollie so tired he can't think straight so he's also a sobbing and angry disaster and Johnny's just standing there by the door waiting for answers and everything is so loud-

"Capn?"

"Oh! Hi, sweetheart," John's wife answered the landline and he could hear her voice call for her husband, "Hi, how are you and lil' ones?"

Simon looked at Ollie who was currently in time out for stealing his sisters binkie for the tenth time, "Not great."

"O-"

"Simon." Price's voice cut in and it took about five seconds to get everything account for, "Ya already called Johnny right?"

"Yessir."

"Did you try Kyle?"

"No sir, he's on his honeymoon."

'"Ah-that's right, that's right."

Silence

"Sir I would like your help."

"Ha! Knew it! Alrighty, missus and I'll be there in...i dunno- you boys hungry? She made that-honey whatcha make?" indistinct conversation, "Ma'am said it didn't matter, she'll bring it anyway. Forty minutes?"

Simon looked at Johnny, who was on 'keep ollie in said time out' picking up the kid whenever he would try and run off. "Can you make it twenty, sir?"

Simon and Johnny who, out of habit, stood at attention as soon at the captain let himself into the house

Simon who looked a bit worse for wear, even with his non existant sleep scheulde in the military he had never looked so fatigued

Simon who had the baby out of his arms by Price's wife within two minutes of them being there

Simon who loves his son, he loves him (internal mantra) but he is making him look bad to his captain so the little twerp better get his act together.

"Riley."

"Yessir."

"How long is your block?"

"Two kilometers around."

"Two laps."

faltering silence through the house, Simon stared at the captain as he helped Ollie tie his sneakers by the door. The silence did mean Tessie had finally fallen asleep but he was- "I'm sorry?"

"Two laps, you, Johnny, and Oliver." Price looked to the kid, who looked more angry at the world than anything else, "Go. Dinner will be ready when you get back."

Simon was about to argue but Ollie beat him to it, "I don't want to run."

"You don't want to run?"

Oliver seemed a bit taken back, "No. So I'm not going to."

"Okay. You can clean the entire house- including your sisters nappy's, for a week, yeah?"

A pause.

"Fine, i'll go on the stupid run."

Simon who might as well be walking with the pace Oliver chose to keep

Johnny who took off sprinting because lord knew that man was starving and Mrs. Price's food was heaven on earth

Simon who sat down on the side of the road when the little guy was out of breath

Simon that mostly ran in silence until Ollie broke it

"Why did mom leave?"

huh?

"What?"

"Mom she-she just...she left us, wh-"

"Whoa-whoa whoa, mum didn't leave-mum didn't leave us wh-whoa, Olls," he had collapsed to his knee when the boy started to speak just to look at him in the eyes and he tried to read the boys expression, "Mum would never leave you, she loves you so much."

"Then where did she go?? Why didn't she say goodbye?"

"She's with her friends, and her flight left 'fore you woke up, Olls. Laddie, she wouldn't leave you."

Simon who had called you, even though there was time difference as everyone was sitting down to eat dinner

"oh...wow the gang's back together," You grumble as you rub your eyes, having been dead asleep, only for the camera angle to change suddenly and it was just a close up angle of your son's face, "Hi baby."

"Mom guess what Uncle Johnny did."

"EY, LET'S NOT TELL YER MOM BOUT THAT."

"Hey mom?" The boy was easily distracted and then looked down at the phone again.

"Yeah baby?"

"Never go on away again, dad said so."

You stay silent for a moment, blinking, because in all three years you and Simon had been together Ollie had never referred to him as 'dad' or anything remotely close. "Your...right, yeah-I'm pretty bored here anyway."

Simon, who was fine with you going on little getaways just not anymore how dare you try and leave him alone

"You sure it's okay if I stay a few more days?"

With a short laugh he looks over the living room, where Johnny and Olls were fast asleep watching some cartoon he didn't know the name of while John and His wife had chosen to stay in the guest room for the night. It would hell if you stayed for a few more days.

"Of course, luv, I got the boys an' Tessie needs to learn who they are anyway."

"I guess. Okay, the ride is here. I love you."

"I love you more."

(annnnway that's it <333 any comments you wanna leave or anything like that makes my day!)

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Based on Oliver mentioning Buck and Jee baking together in an upcoming ep.

(I wrote this on my phone so it's not the greatest)

now also on AO3

---

"Is it someone's birthday?" Maddie asked, running through all of their friends and relatives in her mind, trying to figure out if she forgot a birthday.

"No." Buck shook his head and kept pulling ingredients out of the fridge and his kitchen cabinets.

"Ok... What's the occasion then?" she asked when he didn't elaborate.

"It's for Tommy. "

"Oh, is it his birthday?"

"No, not for a few weeks."

"Right. So this is a practice run?"

"What? No. I found the recipe online, but it's easy enough."

"Ok..."

"He likes cake."

"Ok."

Buck sighed and rolled his eyes at his sister before glancing up in the direction of the loft's bedroom.

"He's had a rough couple of days. He had to make an emergency landing because of bad weather yesterday and the ambulance couldn't get to them fast enough and they lost the patient."

"That was him? Josh took that call and he was exhausted from stress by the end of shift."

Buck nodded.

"Tommy too. And he was hurting all over last night. He never takes any pain medication but he took two ibuprofen and a hot shower and crashed into bed."

"Are you sure you're alright to take Jee for the afternoon then? I can ask Mrs Lee or see if she can go play with her friend Emily from down the road. "

"It's fine." Buck told her and turned to Jee. "You're my sous chef aren't you? Are you going to help me today?"

"Yeah!" the girl yelled happily.

"But we have to be quiet ok? Tommy is sleeping upstairs and we don't want to wake him. He needs to sleep because he's sick."

Jee nodded solemnly to show she understood.

"But we're going to surprise him with cake so he'll feel better soon, right?"

"Yeah!" she yelled again, making her mother and uncle laugh.

"At least she's enthusiastic." Maddie tried and bent down to hug and kiss her daughter goodbye. "You be good for uncle Buck, me or daddy will pick you up tonight ok?"

"Ok mommy!" Jee said and climbed up onto the stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Go. We'll be fine." Buck assured her, wrapping an arm around Jee to keep her safe.

After Maddie had left, Buck gave Jee an old shirt of his to wear as apron, made her wash her hands, and the two of them got to work.

He tried to let her do as much as possible while still making sure everything was going to plan and she wouldn't hurt herself.

Before long the cake was in the oven and they started the clean up.

"And when it's done baking, we let it cool off a little and then we can put the icing on and decorate it with these." he showed Jee the assortment of sprinkles he kept in his kitchen for her.

Jee nodded happily and started planning out her sprinkles masterpiece.

Buck looked up towards the bedroom area and listened for a sign of life from his boyfriend.

When he didn't hear anything, he decided to put Jee in front of the TV and go check on him. Tommy was fast asleep, rolled up in the duvet like a human burrito, and didn't seem to have woken up since Buck had made him eat something that morning.

Satisfied everything was ok, he went back downstairs and let Jee tell him all about the cartoon she was watching, until the cake was ready for decoration.

"Which ones do you want to put on first? Pink or gold?"

"Gold!"

"Alright, gold it is. Put it on where you think is best." Buck told her. "But not too much, we need to leave room for the other colours. And we can put your name on it. And mine."

"And uncle Tommy." she decided and Buck froze for a second.

Sure Tommy and Jee had met and he'd explained to her that Tommy was to him what mommy and daddy were to each other, and he was pretty sure she'd understood, but to hear her call him uncle Tommy, that was new.

Jee didn't seem to notice just how much she'd just turned his world upside down and was babbling about what colour sprinkles should go where.

"Pink here for the heart." she decided and Buck wondered when they'd agreed on heart shaped decorations.

"Right, yeah, that... that works." he let Jee draw a heart in pink sprinkles and dutifully wrote his and Tommy's names in it. "And where should I write your name?"

Jee thought for a minute and studied the cake but then shook her head.

"No name."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Jee said like it was the most obvious thing in the world and put some sugar stars across the top half of the cake, above the heart with their names. "That's the sky. With stars."

"Oh wow, that's beautiful miss Jee, did you make that?"

Buck jumped a little when he suddenly heard his boyfriend's voice behind him and felt a hand on his waist.

"Uncle Buck helped" Jee told Tommy.

"Did he now? I'm sure you did all of the important work." Tommy said and gave her a conspiratory wink before turning to Buck and stealing a small kiss. "Hey." he greeted him softly.

"H-hey... Did we wake you?"

Tommy shook his head.

"It's fine. Had to get up eventually."

"Feeling better yet?"

Tommy shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island.

"I'm alright." he just said, which wasn't really an answer but Buck decided to let it go for now.

"Uncle Tommy, it's for you. You need to come look!" Jee insisted, pointing at the cake.

Tommy met Buck's eyes over her head and mouthed "Uncle Tommy?" at him.

Buck shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Tommy, come see!" Jee said again, a little louder this time, clearly getting fed up with the adults in her life.

"Why don't you two come here and show me, and you can tell me what you made."

Buck helped her down from her stool and put the cake on the island in front of Tommy before helping Jee back on her stool, this time sitting next to Tommy who immediately put a hand on her back so she wouldn't fall off.

"This is the sky with the stars." she started like she was explaining the mysteries of the universe. "And you can fly to the stars."

Tommy laughed a little.

"I don't think I can go quite that high in my helicopter. But maybe I can show you how high I do go. When you're a little older. And your mommy and daddy are ok with it. Maybe uncle Evan will want to come too."

Jee-Yun turned to Buck and gave him an expectant look.

"Yeah, maybe." he settled on, trying to get his heart to calm down and not burst out of his chest hearing his boyfriend make plans with his niece. Even if she was only three and would probably have forgotten about it by the time she was old enough to even think about going up.

She seemed happy with that answer and turned back to Tommy to explain the rest of their creation.

"It's really amazing Jee, it's almost too pretty to eat don't you think?"

"No. You have to eat it. It's chocolate." she said as if that explained everything.

"Oh really? I do love chocolate." Tommy told her. "But can I take a picture of it before we eat it?" he reached into the pocket of his sweats only to realise he'd left his phone upstairs. "Evan, can you take a picture and send it to me?"

"Sure." he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. "You should be in the picture too, we made it for you after all."

Tommy dutifully posed with the cake, tilting the pan towards the camera so the decorations were clearly visible.

"And now one with the master chef herself." he put the cake back down on the table and moved a little closer to Jee so they'd both fit in the picture with the cake and Buck took a few pictures.

After that Jee insisted on having a photo shoot, and by the time Maddie came to pick her back up, his camera roll was filled with pictures of the three of them.

He showed a few to Maddie at Jee's insistence and set one of Tommy making a funny face at Jee as his new contact picture.

They said goodbye to Maddie and Jee-yun and settled on the sofa together, scrolling through the pictures and laughing at some of silly ones.

"I like this one." Buck said, stopping at a selfie of the two of them where Tommy had kissed his cheek at the last second.

"Yeah. Me too." Tommy said softly, not really looking at the picture. "Thanks. For today. For getting me out of my head."

Buck smiled and kissed him.

"Of course."

[evie-sturns]

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱 - 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

summary: matt's been showing you less attention recently, all your emotions hit you at once while your alone in your apartment, but matt shows up.

contains: fluff (a lot), smut (matt the munch), crying, swearing.

-----------------------°°••....••°°----------------———-

it's been 2 days since matt's reached out, he hasn't texted, called, not a single word from him. 2 days isn't that long, but he's been distant lately.

i'm laying alone in my bed, the house is empty and obnoxiously silent. whenever i'm alone my emotions get the best of me, i hate crying in front of people.

i roll over, my eyes flick up to the time, 11:47pm. i let out a deep sigh as i see an Instagram notification appear.

'matthew.sturniolo made a post'

i click on it, liking it as i scroll through the mutiple pictures, its him ,nick, and this other girl ive never seen before. my heart sinks as i see his hand, which seems to be holding her hip.

"what the fuck.." i groan, wiping my eyes, everything makes alot more sense now.

everything hits at once, i feel the tears start, after a few seconds it turns into sobbing, my mascara streaking down my face.

abrubtly the door to my room creaks open, i slam my phone down, launching my body up.

its matt.

i instantly lie back down, rolling my body over so my back faces the door. "hey y/n!!" he says, unaware.

he turns on the light, i pull my blanket up over my head, holding my breath as i try to slow the tears, it doesnt work, instead a loud sob escapes my mouth.

i hear matt pause before he speed walks over to my side of the bed, he pulls the blankets off of my face, im met with his face, worry painted across his face.

"oh fuck, are you okay sweetheart?" he says, cupping my face with his hands as he leans over me bed.

"go away matt." i say in between crys.

he places a kiss to my forehead before walking over to the other side of my bed, crawling in next to me.

"matt i said go away-" i say, raising my voice but he cuts me off.

"shh.. i know i know" he says, wrapping a hand arounds my waist and tugging me close to him. "talk to me please." he says, anxiety clear in his voice.

i cuddle close to his side, laying my head under his armpit as i drape a thigh over his. he rubs my arm as he waits for me to answer.

"you havent.. talked to me.. in 2 days." i say in between sobs. i feel matt tense under me, "i know, youve been on my mind the whole time but ive been unbearably busy, you know i love you gorgeous." he says shakily,

"don't lie matt!" i raise my voice.

"y/n, stop it please." he says, his voice stern.

"no!" i yell, matt holds me close to him as i try to move away from him. his grip firm, but not painful on me.

"you were holding her!" i shout, matt's eyebrows furrow.

"y/n, who. who was i holding."

"that girl in your post." i mumble with a deep sigh.

"who, cassie? that's nates little sister, you know Nathan." matt closes his eyes as he plants a kiss in my hair.

i go silent, feeling slightly humiliated. "oh." i say, my voice breaking.

"can i show you how much i love you." he whispers, playing with my bra strap. i nod as matt pulls my blanket off me.

when matt and i usually hook up, we both put in equal effort, but matts made it very clear he doesnt want me to do anything.

"get comfortable," he says, slowly pulling down my sweat shorts until they bunch at my ankles. he taps my hip, signalling for me to lift it up, i comply, raising my torso off the bed. matt places a pillow under my lower back.

"you ready?" he asks softly, maintaining eye contact. "y-yes.. please."

matt spreads my legs, positioning his head between my legs, he places gentle kisses on my inner thighs, getting closer to my heat each time, i feel goosebumps form on my body as he places a light kiss on my clit, which is covered by my panties.

he reaches his palm to my legs, spreading them further. "good girl," he says, his breath hitting my inner thighs. he reaches his two finger up, pulling my panties to the side. he blows out cold air directly onto my clit.

a soft moan escapes my mouth.

he licks a stripe from my hole to my clit, i move my body into his mouth, desperate for more, his noses brushing against my pelvic bone. he grabs my hip with his spare hand, reaching two fingers down and teasing me.

"please!" i whine, squirm slightly, he grips onto my hip tighter before pressing two fingers inside of me. "oh my fuck.." i groan as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of me.

i throw my head back, reaching my hand down and interlocking my hands with his hair. his mouth attaches to my clit, a desperate moan exiting my mouth as he continues to curl his fingers inside of me.

"im gonna c-" i whine, gripping his hair tighter, i clench around his fingers, releasing. matt slowly pulls his fingers out of me as he raises his head up, looking at me. his cheeks are flushed, a small amount of white painted on his cheek.

he places on last peck on my sensitive clit, before wiping his face. "you okay?" he asks, his voice barely audible as i catch my breath. "yeah.." i mumble, "thank you matt".

matt gets out of bed, walking over to my side of the bed and picking me up, cradling me as he walks us into his bathroom. "you're perfect ya know?" matt says, turning on the bath. after a few minutes he places me down in the tub, his hand on the back of my head so i don't hit my head.

he sits on the edge of the bath, still trying to wipe his face clean.

"im sorry matt."

"what no, its fine i like it?" he says defensivley.

"no, im not talking about the mess i made on your face, im sorry for yelling at you earlier."

——-----------------°°••....••°°---------------------——

[pitchsidestories]

Picture You II Fridolina Rolfö x Engen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2480

a/n: hi, we had this idea for quite a while now and finally got to writing it down, we hope you enjoy it.

Fridolina Rolfö had no explanation for why her relationships always failed.

Her boyfriend of two years had broken up with her out of nowhere and as much as she wanted to feel sad about it, there was some kind of apathy taking over her.

Coincidentally, her teammates had scheduled a team bonding event only a few days after she was dumped.

In hopes that it would ease her pain and appease the younger players, they decided on an ice cream party.

That was how Fridolina found herself sitting in front of a bowl of vanilla ice cream while her teammates uttered words of reassurance to her that she did not want to hear.

“Don’t worry, Frido. We’ll find you a man who’s worthy of you.“ Mapi grinned while pouring sprinkles on top of her chocolate ice cream.

Fridolina looked up at the defender: “Oh… uhm… thanks.“

“Men are so overrated though.“, Cata rolled her eyes.

“Can we change the topic?“, Fridolina asked carefully. She did not want to ruin the mood but she hoped to draw the attention away from herself.

Ingrid gave her a gentle smile, ready to help her friend out.

“My sister will start her job as a photographer for Barca tomorrow.“, she revealed, visibly proud.

Mapis face lit up with excitement: “That’s amazing, Ingrid.“

“Yes, and well deserved. Your sister is so talented.“, Fridolina agreed, relieved but also genuinely happy.

Ingrid beamed, flattered on her sisters behalf: “She will be so happy to hear that.“

Esmee served herself another portion of ice cream: “I’m excited to meet her.“

“You will love her.“, Ingrid promised.

“I’ve no doubt about that.“, Esmee laughed.

“And Mapi and I are making Frido a list for potential blind dates.“, Aitana announced.

Fridolina flinched at the mention.

As she looked over, her two teammates had already scribbled names on an empty sheet of paper.

“How do you even know so many people?“

Mapi shrugged nonchalantly: “We just do.“

“You need to slow down, girls. I’m not sure if I want to date any man right now…“, Frido stopped them.

Mapi and Aitana shared a surprised look.

“Oh, sorry. We only wanted the best for you, Frido. That’s all.“, Aitana apologized.

The Swedish football player nodded: “I know. But maybe I just need break for now.“

Ingrid put a hand on her friends forearm and said softly: “That’s okay, we understand it. You two had been together for quite a while.“

“Yes, but it hasn’t felt right anymore for a long time.“, the blonde admitted.

Alexia shrugged, eating fruit out of her ice cream bowl: “It happens. Sometimes you just fall out of love with someone and you can’t do anything about it.“

The words of her captain resonated deeply with Fridolina who enjoyed the evening more than before now.

“Ingrid, let me breathe.”, you chuckled. It was your first workday for Barcelona as their new photographer, but your sister prevented you from taking photos as she embraced you in a long hug.

“No.”, she shook her head, clearly not ready to let you go yet.

“Please? Hi, everyone.”, you waved politely with your free hand at the players who slowly arrived at the training grounds.

“Hi.”, Mapi grinned.

“Good to see you, Mapi.”, you replied truthfully, relieved to see some familiar faces.

“So happy you got the job.”, the Spanish defender told you thrilled.

“Me too. Also, hey, Caro and Frido!”, you added delighted to see the Scandinavian players.

“Finally, another Norwegian.”, Caroline winked at you.

“Ignore her. Sweden is so much better.”, Fridolina teased her teammate, but swallowed hard at the sight of you, you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Instead, the blonde tried to play down the excitement she felt while looking at you and hugged you casually.

“We won’t discuss this right now.”, Ingrid decided laughing.

“No, but I’m sure you can show me all the great places in the city.”, you glanced at the footballers you knew since your sister played along side them in Wolfsburg.

“That’s more Frido’s thing. She can help you with that and I can teach you the language.”, Caroline declared.

“That’s my sister. Why can’t I show her around and teach her?”, your sibling wanted to know pouting playfully.

Looking between them, Marta announced:” I’m sure you girls will find a way.”

And they did, you easily felt at home in Barcelona with the help of your sister and her friends. It was different to when you visited Ingrid with your family in the past. Step by step you fell in love with the city and its inhabitants.

A few weeks in and you were doing a photo shooting outside with Fridolina for the summer Barca merchandise. The late afternoon sun made her hair and skin appear golden and you had to pause your preparations to remark:” The outfit looks great on you, Frido.”  

“Oh, thank you.”, she beamed at you, making these sporty clothes look effortlessly elegant and timeless.

“It’s true.”, you smiled back while taking a few test shoots to see how well the light, her profile worked together.

“Can I ask you something? When did you start taking photos?”, Fridolina asked you curiously.

Hearing her questions made your smile grew even brighter. “A long time ago. I was like 15 or 16. when I got into it.”, you remembered fondly at the memory.

 “I guess Ingrid and your brother were the test models.”, the Swedish player thought out loud.

“Yes, she was the reason why I became interested in taking sports related pictures.”, you admitted.

Fridolina laughed lightly: “Did she bully you into taking photos of her while playing?“

“No, I saw that they never had any photos of their games so I started doing it. The first ones turned out awful.“, you grinned as you thought back.

The Blonde shrugged: “Isn’t it always like that? The first times I played football, I wasn’t great at it either.“

“You’re right. But taking photos of you is so easy, you’re a natural.“, you replied while you pressed the shutter a few times.

She even looked beautiful doing casual small talk.

But you realized that the collar of her jacket was upturned.

You put your camera down and come closer to fix it for her. After all, the goal was to present the retro looking Barcelona jacket.

Fridolina smiled gratefully at you: “I mean I’ve already done this a few times. But I don’t think I’ve ever felt as comfortable as I do right now.“

You bit your lip to keep yourself from grinning too wide about that compliment.

“Frido, you’re beautiful inside and outside.“, you said without taking your eyes off of her.

Her cheeks slightly blushed: “That’s so sweet of you.“

“Want to change into the second outfit?“, you suggested, giving both of you a break to focus back on the task at hand.

“Sure.“, the Swede said and disappeared into the changing room.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself again while you waited.

Fridolina emerged in light blue jeans and a slightly oversized shirt in their signature colours that said Barca across the chest.

You shook your head in awe. This woman could literally wear anything.

“Oh, I love that outfit even more.“, you complimented her.

She looked down at herself: “You do?“

“Yes.“, you said while taking a few photos of her.

“I think it would look cute on you too.“, Frido smirked.

“Do you think so?“

You barely finished your question when you noticed that she was already in the motion of pulling the shirt over her head.

“What are you doing?“, you asked laughing.

The football player just handed you the garment: “Here.“

Stunned, you looked at it and the back to Fridolina standing there in her underwear: “Uhm thanks?“

She rolled her eyes with a smile: “No, put it on.“

“Fine.“, you gave in and did as you were told before adding: “But it’s definitely not warm enough for you to just stand there in your sports bra.“

“I guess I should get dressed again.“, she laughed.

You returned the shirt to your model: “Here are your clothes. Hey, that’s my camera.“

You had failed to realize that she had taken your camera and was now taking photos of you with a big grin on her face.

You usually hated being photographed but Fridolina looked too happy so you bit back any comment.

“I’m not leaving without taking a photo of you too.“

“I guess that’s fair even though I’m not as pretty as Ingrid.”, you turned your gaze away from the Swedish woman and looked at the fresh cut grass instead.

“What? Who says? The beauty obviously runs in the family.”, she disagreed.

“Well, my ex-girlfriend said that.”, you shrugged.

“She was a liar then. You’re gorgeous.”, Fridolina observed.

“That means a lot coming from such a stunning woman herself.”, you confessed smiling timidly. For a moment you paused before asking her:” Do you want to see the pictures I made right now or tomorrow?”

“Aw, thank you. Can I see them now?”, curiously she handed you your camera back, where you started to go through the photos you took of her.

“Of course.”, you nodded politely.

 Being this close to you made the blondes heart flutter.

“They’re so nice, y/n.”, Fridolina muttered, suddenly breathlessly.

“Glad you like them. So, I’ll see you before the game tomorrow?”, you changed the topic lightly.

“Sure.”, she beamed at you.

“Goodbye, Frido.”, you responded warmly.

“See you soon, y/n.”, the footballer replied, eagerly anticipating your reunion.

On the next day, you didn’t find the time to catch up with her as you were busy taking the pictures of the arriving players in their pretty matchday outfits. All of them arrived in style.

During the game you were not mesmerized by their beauty but by their beautiful game which you tried to capture with your camera. This was why you wanted to be here, you thought, to watch the best team in Europe thrive in front of your lens. Somehow the Swede always managed to get your attention as you would notice later while seeing through the photos.

When the referee blew the final whistle, Fridolina run to you to pull you into a hug, while you whispered into your ear:” Frido you had an amazing game.”

“Thanks”, she hummed, while her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Well played.”, you couldn’t help but to rave about her performance.

“Appreciate it.”, the fellow Scandinavian mumbled.

“But I got to go around now to take some more shots.”, you explained winking, as you stepped away from her hug. Which had to be completely friendly and nothing more, right? Because she was 100 % straight. Nothing seemed gay about her. Still some signals your sister’s best friend send were quite confusing.

“Y/n, wait!”, Fridolina yelled your name nervously, attempting to hold you back.

“What?”, you turned your head confused.

“Frido, there you’re. My friend wants to meet you.”, Mapi grinned at her taller teammate, nodding into a direction of a very handsome man waiting in the stands, the sight of him, making your stomach turn. He and her would be a pretty couple.

To your surprise, Fridolinas gaze remained fixed on you.

Reluctantly she turned to Mapi, deliberately ignoring the man.

“Mapi, I’m sorry but I’m not interested. I was about to ask y/n to go on a date with me.“, she apologized but her voice was firm and determined.

“What?!“, you and Mapi gasped at the same time, looking at each other in confusion.

Fridolina remained unimpressed: “Uhm yes. I’m actually not straight. You all just assume that because I date men too.“

After a moment of silence, Mapi started to grin like she only now understood the joke that you failed to get: “No, you always dated men since we know you.“

“That still doesn’t make me straight.“, Fridolina replied matter-of-factly.

You would be impressed by her attitude, if you were any less confused.

Mapi had stopped smiling and watched her teammate attentively.

“That’s right.“, you agreed slowly.

The Swede turned back to you: “So… would you go out with me?“

You nodded: “I’d.“

“Really?“, Fridolina asked again.

This time, your face finally reflected your excitement. You smiled: “Yes.“

You both just beamed at each other.

“Ingrid! You won’t believe it!“, Mapi bounced up and down as she called for your sister.

Ingrid joined the three of you: “Believe what?“

“Frido asked your sister out!“, Mapi yelled.

You cringed slightly, hearing it out loud and refused to look at Ingrid.

“What do you mean Frido asked her out? Like on a date?“, your sister asked. Her perfect eyebrows knotted together.

Mapi nodded enthusiastically: “Yes, exactly that.“

“That’s so cute.“

“Oh my god, Frido. You’re full of surprises!“, Ona interrupted, patting the blonde football player on the shoulder and you silently wondered who else had overheard your conversation.

Fridolina raised her eyebrows: “Am I? Or did you just never ask?“

“You’re right. We never asked. We just assumed you were straight. Sorry.“, Ona admitted but she looked less sorry and more happy for her teammate.

You thought their reactions were kind of adorable.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t think I owed you an explanation.“, Fridolina replied politely.

You could not help yourself. You gently took her hand in yours and squeezed it once. There was no way you could contain your admiration for her.

“You didn’t need to.“, you said softly.

Her attention shifted back to you. “The fact that I dated men before you doesn’t change my feelings for you, I hope you know that.“

“During that photoshoot I felt it. But I thought you might just be nice. Now I know I was wrong.“, you chuckled.

Fridolina visibly bit back a smile: “Sorry. I was hoping I’d send the right signals.“

“You did! I was just blind and - … “

You were unable to finish your sentence. Fridolinas soft lips pressed against yours all of a sudden, right there on the field in front of everyone.

“Maybe this was clearer?”, she asked in a hopeful tone.

“Yes, it was.”, you nodded smiling.

In the background you heard your sister telling her girlfriend” Okay, Mapi, I think I need a bit of time to get used to my best friend kissing my sister.”

“You better should hurry up. They’re hitting it off right away.”, the Spaniard punched her playfully in the side, wearing an amused grin on her lips while watching you being showered with kisses by the Swede.

“I see that.”, Ingrid laughed. She knew it would be weird at first, but seeing her favourite people being happy with each other warmed her heart.

For once you didn’t have your camera to capture the moment but the picture of the first kiss with Fridolina after the match would be forever engraved inside your brain.

[shadowandlightt]

Snow and Flame -2- |Cregan Stark X Velaryon!Reader|

Following the death of Luke, Jace and his sister return to Dragonstone. What she doesn't expect is to hear from Lord Stark so soon after her departure. His missive only serves to cause her to fall further for the young Lord, and Jace tells his twin sister not to miss out on this opportunity for happiness.

Part One

A/N: Thank you so so much for your support on my first part. I have admittedly not read the books, almost bought them tonight but didn't want to spend close to $100 on the box set. SO I'm really just going off of the show. I'm sure there are mistakes in this, as I am only human and highly dyslexic. But I appreciate the love and hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

The following days are torture for you. You wished for nothing more than to return to the North where you felt oddly safe, so far away from the conflict. Your stepfather, Daemon, made a grave error in judgment and sent assassins into the Red Keep to kill Aemond, only they didn’t find him, instead killing Aegon’s son, Jeahaerys. The smallfolk started to call your mother a kinslayer and cruel. Though you know she would never order such a thing. 

“Princess, a raven for you.” 

You hum and hold your hand out for the missive, spotting the Stark sigil. A smile spreads across your lips. You can’t help but look around to see if anyone is paying attention to you before you unfurl the scroll. 

Cregan’s handwriting fills your eyes, talks of how he already misses your presence and how sorry he is about your loss. He writes of the summer snow, slowly starting to thicken as winter draws closer. How despite the cold, you might even enjoy Winterfell in it’s natural season. 

The thought of him thinking of you in his home makes heat stir in your belly. You clutch the letter close to your chest, remembering how jealous you were when he and Jace swore oaths to one another and sealed them in blood. 

You thought it unfair that you were excluded. You could understand it now though, why you weren’t allowed. They swore an oath of brotherhood, and you didn’t think of Cregan as a brother. Not with the way desire built up within you during your stay at Winterfell. 

“What are you doing, sister?” Jace calls from your doorway. 

“Jacaerys,” You stand quickly, shoving the missive behind your back, “I didn’t hear you come in.” 

“Yes, I could tell,” He smirks at you, “What do you have?” 

“No-nothing,” You shake your head, tucking the paper into the sleeve of your dress. 

“Oh, it is something,” He laughs, reaching for your hand, “Come now, since when do we keep secrets?” 

“It’s just a message,” You roll your eyes, “From Lord Stark.” 

“From Cregan?” His eyebrows raise, “Pray tell, why does Cregan write to you and not me?”

“Jealous are we?” You question. 

“Hardly,” He snorts, “So, what does Lord Stark say?”

You take a deep breath and pull the paper from your dress, smoothing it out once more. You recite most of the missive to your brother, leaving out how Cregan writes that he longs for you to return. Longs to see you once more. It makes your heart ache because you long to see him too. 

“You’re falling for him,” Jace points out, noticing how your demeanor shifts. 

“Hardly, brother,” You shake your head, trying to cover it up, “I barely know him. Unlike you who swore oaths in blood upon your first meeting.” 

He lets out a deep laugh, “You were mad that I wouldn’t let you, so you have no room to speak, dear sister.” 

You roll your eyes, opening a box to put your missive in. The box has a lock and you keep the key on a chain around your neck. It’s where you hide all of your important things. You lock it away, a small smile playing on your lips. 

He thinks of you enough to write to you mere days after you left him. The knowledge is enough to ease the pain of losing Luke. Your chest still threatens to cave in, but the pain is more bearable, knowing Lord Stark thinks of you. 

Knowing Cregan thinks of you is enough to ease your aching heart. 

“So if he asked to take you to wife you would say no?” 

“I wouldn’t have a choice, that would be up to mother,” You remind him, “She wouldn’t likely turn down such an alliance.” 

“We already have the North,” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Yes, well, you might as well have married him yourself,” You snort.

He shakes his head, gripping the hilt of his sword. He was older than you, just by a few moments. It’d come as a shock to the Maesters to discover that there were two of you. No one was as shocked as your mother though. The kingdom celebrated the birth of both of you, no one quite as much as your Grandsire, King Viserys. He loved you so. So much that he was blind to the truth in front of him, that his wife, Queen Alicent could easily see. 

You spent your entire life trying to convince yourself that the rumors simply weren’t true. And that you were a trueborn Velaryron, but in your heart you knew. Just as Jace and Luke knew. 

“Are you going to write him back?” Jace questions. 

“Should I not?” 

“Cregan is a good man,” Is his only response. 

You nod, knowing he’s more than right, “I wouldn’t object,” You clarify, “If he wanted to take me to wife.” 

“You’ve never been one for the fighting,” Jace observes, “You’re much like Helena in that way., I suppose.” 

You nod, biting your lower lip, “I hate that we’re at war. I wish it to stop.” 

“You wish for mother to give up her claim?” He questions, misunderstanding you. 

“No, never that. Too many have already died,” Your eyes begin to water, “But…if only there was a way for her to reclaim the throne without all of the bloodshed. At this rate the path will be paved in blood.” 

“It already is,” Jace sighs, “But I understand how you feel. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it.” 

“I wouldn’t want to leave you,” You start, “But I would welcome the opportunity to leave all of this bloodshed behind.” 

“It’s only going to get worse,” He reminds you. 

“My point exactly.” 

He nods and then turns suddenly remembering why he was here, “A council meeting has been called. I was sent to get you.” 

“And you’re only now saying something?” You gasp, moving to your feet. 

He shrugs and usures you out of the door of your rooms. Everyone is already assembled around the painted table by the time you arrive. Your mother, however, is absent. You look around the chambers. The meeting starts without her, word spread that Ser Criston Cole’s forces have doubled, at the very least. 

You listen, saying quiet as they all say a dragon needs to go to war. There is no way around it. Cole will take Rook’s Rest without a second thought. Jace is in the middle of saying a dragon must be sent when your mother, the queen, finally joins the council. 

Jace instantly demands to know where she’s been and a volley ensues. You stay quiet, as you always do, letting your twin do the talking. But even you, in your grief, took note of your mother’s absence. It worried you to no end, not knowing where she had gone or why. But upon hearing she went to King’s Landing, you swore your heart stopped. 

But when she says she’ll be the one to fly to war, you stop breathing. And when Jace urges her to send him, you swear you might faint. The thought of either of them being in danger is enough to send you over the edge. You cannot stand it. Never have been able to stomach the thought. Jace was right, you’re much like your aunt Helena in that regard. 

You’re about to say something, anything to help the fight, when Rheanys speaks up, saying they must send her. Meyles is the largest dragon that you have, and as Rheanys says, no stranger to battle. 

The meeting seems to end then, having been decided who was going to war on your mother’s behalf, you withdraw quietly. So quietly you aren’t sure anyone noticed you even left. You consider it your power, to sneak from a room, or move about the castle unnoticed by most. You’ve always been the quieter one, compared to the temper that fuels Jace. He’s always run hotter than you, ready to act at a moment’s notice. Ready to fly off the handle and do something rash. You’re more cool and calculated, you suspect you’re more like your father in that way. Either one of them. 

You settle at the small table in your rooms and begin writing back to Lord Stark. You find yourself wishing more and more you could return to the North and be far away from this conflict. So you tell him just that. You tell him that you yearn for him as well, and that you were glad to hear from him so soon. You pour your heart into the letter, not sparing anything. You tell him that the war is really and truly beginning, and that there is no avoiding it now. You tell him that you’re scared of it. 

You’re honest with him, in a way that you didn’t expect. And that night, you fall asleep holding his letter. Wanting to feel close to the Northern man. 

News breaks the following morning that Rheanys and Meleys were lost at Rook’s Rest, and that Aegon, the pretender, was severely injured and is on death’s door. Aemond is named regent in his stead, which is more dangerous than having Alicent herself on the throne. Because Aemond knows no end. He will do anything to secure his place. Including as reports say, sacrifice his own brother. 

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, the dread. It fills you as you walk the halls of Dragonstone. The mood has shifted. If the war wasn’t real with the death of Luke, it’s real now. And you find yourself wishing you could just vanish from Westeros all together and avoid all of this. You do not have it in yourself to go to war. Do not have it in you to fight on dragonback as will be expected of you. 

“Where have you been?” Jace questions, brows knitted together. 

“In hiding,” You sigh, closing your book. 

“Obviously,” He rolls his eyes, “I’ve been trying to find you for hours.” 

“Well, you succeeded.” 

“Are you alright?” He asks you. 

“Must I be?” You question. 

“I know how hard this is for you,” He replies, “But we need you, sister. We cannot win this war without you.” 

“You need my dragon,” You clarify, “You can do this without me, but not without her.” 

“No, I need you,” He reassures you, “I cannot fight this without you. I need you by my side, I always have and I always will.” 

“You cannot put this on my shoulders Jace,” You shake your head, “I cannot bear it. The thought of anything happening to you, or to Mother, or our brothers…I cannot.” 

“Nothing will happen to me,” He promises, “I’m quick, and I’m lucky.” 

“And inexperienced, as mother pointed out,” You remind him, “Anyone can be killed. We are not gods, as the smallfolk believe.” 

He sighs and joins you on your seat. There is nothing he can do to put your worries to rest, because he knows there’s a chance he will be killed. There is a chance anytime he gets on his dragon and flies off. He wishes there was something he could do to ease your anxiety. Perhaps he would pay a visit to the Maesters for a draft to help you sleep better. He knows you won’t ask for it yourself. 

“Did you write to Cregan?” He finally asks, seeking to change the subject. 

He notes the way you almost smile, the way your eyes light up a little and your shoulders relax, “I did.” 

“Good,” He smiles, squeezing your shoulder, “I am glad.” 

“As am I,” You admit. 

“Perhaps he’ll petition for your hand,” He shrugs, “Then you’ll be able to get away from all of this afterall.” 

“I’d never wish to leave you, Jacaerys,” You tell him honestly, “You’re half of my soul.”

“And you’re half of mine,” He assures you, “But I would never wish for your unhappiness.” 

You nod, knowing he wouldn’t. Jace might be hot headed, and quick to fly off, but he isn’t selfish. Never selfish. Not when it comes to you at least. He would always put you first, it was his job to protect you and keep you happy. Always had been, ever since you were little. 

He could survive without you, you were sure. But you needed to find out if you could survive without him. You knew, deep within your heart, that there would come a day when you would have to learn to live without him. You couldn’t imagine Jace as an old man, sitting upon the iron throne. You hated that you couldn’t, but it was the truth. 

“I would never wish for your unhappiness either,” You tell him, biting back tears. 

“Should he ask for your hand, don’t turn him down,” Jace urges you, “Be happy with him in the North. Be safe.”

“You’re telling me to leave?” You question. 

He only shrugs and gives you a soft smile, “I’m telling you to be happy, however you need to achieve it.” 

[mallowsweetmiri]

babes PLEASE I BEG YOU write a part two for remus x potter!reader🥺🥺🥺

Remus Lupin x Potter! Reader (pt 2)

Part 1 • Part 3

Summary: James is pissed at Remus for keeping you a secret from him, but that’s not going to stop you two from seeing eachother

Warnings: cursing, smut

—————————————————————————

Remus stood up from the table as you walked towards the exit looking nervously at him.

“Not you,” James growled, pointing angrily at Remus as he got up from the table. You walked quickly with your head down, embarrassed that your brother was making such a scene. You were pretty sure you knew what this was about. Remus, of course. But how did James find out? He was fine one moment then flipping his shit the next. Guess you’d find out in about, hmm one second.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” James yelled the moment the two of you entered the hallway. Your cheeks were furiously flushed, but you crossed your arms and tried to stand your ground.

“What are you on about, James,” you spat back. James scoffed and laughed at the same time.

“Don’t play dumb with me. Wh- what- you and Remus?!” James practically screamed. You looked around nervously, he was being so dramatic. You sucked your lips in. So he did know.

“What gave you that idea?” You said, trying to keep your cool, but your nervousness had seeped into your voice. James’ face twisted into a look of pain and cringe.

“Your fucking bow, Y/N! We were just teasing Remus about this goddamn bookmark with a bow that we found on his bed- oh gods- you were in our room?!? Oh my gods, Y/N, I’m going to be sick,” James cried, he was losing his shit. Your cheeks were on fire now. You couldn’t believe you left your book there, how could you guys be so stupid?

“Look, James. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want you to freak out. Kind of like you’re doing right now,” you muttered, “but I was going to tell you. Please, James I really like him and-”

“No,” James asserting, shaking his head, “No, absolutely not. You are not going to be seeing Remus. Ever. Again.” James was pacing by now, you honestly hadn’t seen him this mad in years.

“James-”

“No! This is not up for discussion. I can’t even believe it! I can’t believe the fucking audacity Remus has, getting with my baby sister!” James laughed out loud again, incredulously. You rolled your eyes.

“James, I’m not five. I’m only a grade below you.”

“And you’re still my sister! You’re not allowed to see him anymore,” James shook his head, keeping his distance from you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. This wasn’t fair.

“James, I’m sorry,” you sobbed, hot tears flooding down your face, “I was going to tell you-” The door to the hall swung open. Remus stepped out, looking concerned when he saw you crying.

“You,” James growled, pointing his finger once again at Remus, “you lied to me! You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time!”

“James, I-” Remus tried, but James wasn’t having either of your words.

“No, you fucking liar! How could you?” James sounded genuinely hurt, and it broke you heart to see Remus’ face as he took in James piercing words. “How could you look me in the eye knowing that you’ve secretly seeing my sister? How long has this even been going on for?”

“I- since the summer, but-” James’ knuckle cracked him in the face.

“James!” You yelled, more tears streaming down your face as you watched Remus’ stumble over.

“Don’t ever talk to her again, do you hear me?” James yelled before grabbing your elbow and dragging you back towards the dorms. You looked back over your shoulder at Remus who looked at you solemnly with trickles of blood on his face. It only made you cry harder. James dragged you, despite your tears and protests, all the way up to the common room.

“Go to your room, now.” James ordered, pointing up the girls staircase. Who did he think he was?!

“You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my dad!” You yelled. People in the common room were staring now. You and James never fought.

“Y/N, I just can’t do this right now. Go to your room. We can talk tomorrow,” James sighed, rubbing his temples. Tears began to well again as you turned to stomp up the stairs. It hurt James to see you cry, but it hurt him even more to know that two of the people he loved the most had been sneaking around behind his back. He shook his head as he headed up to his own room to calm down.

That night, Remus laid in bed awake. James had shunned him all night, and Pete and Sirius kinda just shrugged and assured him he would calm down. Eventually, they said. Remus hated that this is how James found out. He had wanted to tell him together, albeit James probably still would’ve freaked out. Remus sighed, turning over on his pillow. He wanted to see you so desperately tonight, as he had told you earlier that day. And seeing you cry today only made him want to hold you that much more. He hated James for making you cry, but he knew deep down that it was his fault. He tried to regret having you, but he just couldn’t. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

A tap on the window jolted Remus up. He opened his bed curtain to see an owl on the windowsill, holding a thin package tied in a little pink bow. Quietly, Remus opened the window and retrieved the package, signaling to the owl to wait there for a few minutes. Remus crept back into his bed, whispering lumos before pulling out the notecard attached to the package.

Remus,

I don’t care what James says. I already miss you, and I can’t bear to think about never seeing you again. We can talk to him tomorrow, I know he’ll come around. I hope your face is feeling okay. James is such an idiot for punching you. I wish I could kiss it better. Until we can see each other again, I’ll be thinking of you. I left you a little present to hopefully cheer you up.

- Y/N <3

Remus smiled to himself. To be honest, his face hurt like a bitch, but he deserved it. Gods, he just wanted to see you. Slowly, he untied the pink ribbon attached the the package. It was light and small. Remus wondered what on earth you had put in here. His blood rushed to his cheeks as his fingers wrapped around the lacy fabric, pulling out a pair of your panties.

“Fucking hell,” Remus muttered, almost groaning at the sight. Remus was fucked, there’s no way James was going to keep him from seeing you after this. Even if Remus wanted to stay away, how could he after you sent him your sexiest pair of panties? You knew they were his favorite too, a pink lacy thong with a little bow right above your cunt. Remus summoned his quill, turning your note over and hastily writing meet me in the common room. Remus got up as quietly as he could, giving the note to your owl before shuffling to his trunk. He grabbed the necessities- a blanket and the marauders map. He tiptoed out of the room, double checking to be sure that nobody had woken up. He snuck down to the common room, the ever burning fire lighting his way as he walked towards the couch. He was impatient, twiddling your panties in his hand as he waited. A few moments later, you were padding down the stairs, Remus’ sweatshirt hanging off your body. He’d forgotten that you had that one, and gods you looked so adorable in it. He stood up and race over to you, engulfing you in a hug with his blanket.

“Y/N,” he breathed, kissing your head. You sunk into his touch, almost whimpering. You’d been crying for hours, and all you wanted was to be held by Remus. You pulled back and gently touched his cheek where the cut was. He winced.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He let out a little laugh.

“It’s okay, my love,” he pulled out your thong and swung it in front of your face, “this made me feel better.”

“I’m glad,” you blushed with a small smile. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hoping he could sense your want. It only made you want him that much more knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“Lets go,” Remus said, wrapping the blanket around you before pulling out a map.

“What’s that?” You whispered as the two of you moved out of the portrait hole.

“Uh, a map, Don’t worry about it, love” Remus said, checking the parchment before leading you down the hall. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had snuck out to the astronomy tower, but tonight felt even more risky than usual. You felt as though James was gonna jump out from around the corner and attack Remus. You were curious at this map Remus had, but he was hiding it from you and frankly, you didn’t care. As long as it got you to where you needed to go, you could live with not knowing. Remus guided you through the cold halls, the two of you trying not to giggle as you fumbled up the stairs to the astronomy tower. It was moments like this that you were sure James would come around. The two of you made each other so happy, how could he deny his own sister that chance? You shook your head in thought as Remus entered the platform, slowly taking the blanket off of you and laying it on the ground.

“Give me your sweatshirt,” Remus whispered, tugging at the edges.

“But I’m cold Remus,” you pouted, earning a chuckle from him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up. I promise,” his sweet tone made you oblige as you stripped off the sweatshirt, leaving you in your tiny pajama shorts and bra. Remus muttered a curse under his breath at the sight of you before transfiguring your sweatshirt into a pillow. Sometimes you forgot how talented he was, but it was one of the many reasons why you had fell for him. Remus took a seat on the blanket and held his arms out for you. You graciously accepted his invitation, falling into his lap and burying your head into his chest as his laid down.

“I’m sorry this happened today, my love. It’s terrible timing, really. I had special plans for this evening as well,” Remus sighed into your hair as he stroked your back. You hummed and looked up to him.

“What plans?” You asked in a small voice. You were tired from crying all day, and he could see it in your puffy eyes. He let out a breath as he smiled down at you.

“I had a whole date planned for us tonight. I was going to tell you that I love you,” Remus breathed out, his thumb coming up to stroke your cheek. Your breath hitched.

“You-you love me?” You whispered, pulling yourself up closer to him. He chucked at the sight of you, eyes blown out with hope and a smile teasing the corners of you lips.

“Yes, Y/N. I am hopelessly in love with you, if it wasn’t obvious already,” Remus smiled, pushing himself up to gently lay you on your back. You shook your head, your words suddenly stuck in your throat.

“I-it wasn’t,” you whispered, running your fingers along the top of his shirt, “I love you, too.” Your lips curved into a smile as you watched Remus’ do the same. He pressed his forehead into yours as he stroked your cheek. The two of you stayed like that in a small silence, your hearts beating in your chests.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Remus chuckled, unable to bear the want within him. He stifled your gasp with his lips, kissing you as if it was the first time. Remus moaned into your mouth, making you want him even more. He was driving you mad. You were completely addicted to him. He had you sending him a pair of your panties for gods sake. You gasped again as his fingers gripped your hips and ground himself into your heat, but any sounds you tried to make were shoved back into your mouth by his tongue. You were drowning in him, and it made you drunk with pleasure. Remus never broke you kiss as his fingers moved swiftly under your shorts, pressing lightly on your clit through your soaking panties. You groaned, throwing your head back, but his lips followed. He couldn’t get enough of you, the sounds of your moans reverberating in his mouth and traveling straight down to his bulge. His thumb played with your clit softly, making you whine as you panted into his mouth. You felt him smile against you.

“Do you like that?” He said, pulling back to catch his breath. You nodded and whined again. “Use your words, love.”

“Y-yes, Remus. It feels so good, please don’t stop,” you whined, the knot in your stomach beginning to form. He hadn’t even removed you panties yet, and you were already so close to coming. He let out a breathy laugh. He could tell you were close.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he said, moving back to kiss you again. You moaned loudly into his mouth, finding it hard to catch your breath with his tongue down your throat. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head, forcing your mouth further into his as his fingers sped up, keeping the same feather light pressure over the fabric of your panties.

“Mmm,” you tried telling him you were close, but he wouldn’t let your lips free. He nodded and grunted, pressing down slightly harder on your clit as he rubbed you. Your head begin to spin as you lacked air and common sense. It was building up so fast, and your kisses became sloppy as your moans became more frequent. Remus didn’t let up though, continuing to swallow you whole as his fingers moved expertly over your mound, as if he knew every line of pleasure in your body. You whined into his mouth as the knot in your stomach broke, and your pussy flooded with waves of pleasure. Remus moaned alongside you as he felt the wetness beneath the fabric growing. He could feel your nipples pressed against his chest through your flimsy bra, and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He let you ride out your high and shudder in his arms. He finally broke away from his kiss with a gasping breath as he looked down at you. You looked beautiful, he thought. You looked absolutely lust stricken and it was all for him.

“I need this off,” he muttered, removing his hand from your mound and pulling your bra down. He then moved to your shorts, roughly pulling them down along with your panties. You looked a mess, but Remus thought you’d never looked more beautiful. He groaned as he began to kiss down your neck, then to your breasts, down your stomach, and to you bare pussy. He looked up at you through his lashes as you squirm. He chuckled under his breath and gave your wet clit a kiss, making you whine and squirm.

“Remus, please,” you whined, grabbing his hair and pulling him away from your heat. He chuckled and smiled at your with a half grin.

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he said huskily, his fingers rubbing your thighs.

“I need you inside me, Rem,” you groaned, pulling his hair again to bring him over you. He couldn’t help but laugh, you looked so cute. And he was more than happy to oblige considering his cock was throbbing for you.

“Anything you want, love,” he said, coming up to his knees and pulling down his sweats. You laid there splayed on his blanket as you watched his cock slap back up to his stomach. You sat up, opening your mouth and looking up at Remus. His smile stayed on his face as he used his hand to pull your head forward, thrusting into your mouth. You moaned around his cock, using your tongue to fully wet him. “Y/N,” he moaned, his head thrown back as he lightly thrust into your mouth. You hummed, grabbing him with both your hands to cover the rest of his length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Remus gave it a few more seconds before he pulled himself off of you and laid you back down on the blanket, giving you another wet kiss. His breath was ragged as he lined himself up to you, watching your face as he pushed his length into your wet pussy. He groaned as his head fell into your shoulder, letting you adjust to his size. You kissed the side of his neck letting him know it was okay to move. Slowly, Remus pulled back before thrusting into you again, earning a gasping moan from your lips. He pushed himself up to watch you, both of your faces twisted in pleasure as he began to pick up his rhythm.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, grabbing your waist with his hand.

“Remus,” you moaned, clenching around him. He began to fuck you harder, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he said, falling down to kiss you hard as he thrust into you faster. You moaned into his lips as if to say I love you, too while he continued to fuck you deeper. Remus felt like he needed to be closer to you, even though he was as deep as he could go. He went back to suffocating you with his lips, his hand gripping the back of your hand once again to push you up closer to his mouth. With his free hand, he lifting your leg up beneath your thigh, his dick rubbing up against your g-spot with every thrust. You whined shamelessly into his mouth as you felt yourself begin to pulse underneath him. His thrusts were getting sloppy, but he continued to fuck you just as hard.

“Rem,” you gasped, trying to break free of his kiss, “I’m gonna-” he slammed his lips back into yours, thrusting deep inside you to shut you up. Then you were coming again hard, shuddering around Remus has his seed spilled out into your pussy. His thrusts slowed as he pressed his forehead into yours, riding out the last little bit of his orgasm. He began to plant kisses around your face, earning some giggles from you as you hugged around his neck.

“Fuck that was so good,” Remus smiled, dipping down to give you one last kiss. You smiled up at him, beaming. You knew this was only the beginning of what you hoped would be a long relationship with Remus. The two of you took your time that night, joking around and looking at the stars and peppering kissing across the others face. At around 4, Remus insisted he brought you back to the dorm. He didn’t want to get you in anymore trouble than he already had. As the two of you snuck back through the halls you asked,

“If you had this map the whole time, why haven’t you used it before?” Remus stopped in his tracks. The two of you were nearing the common room.

“That bastard,” Remus grumbled, folding the map and placing it in his waistband.

“Remus?” You asked as the two of you entered the common room.

“Don’t worry about it, love,” he said giving you a kiss on the head, “go up to bed. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast and we’ll get everything figured out.” You nodded as he gave you one last hug before going back to your dorm.

Remus entered his room quietly, buzzing with adrenaline. He found it hard to fall asleep, but eventually his body gave out, and he managed to get a few hours of rest before promptly shooting up in his bed. When he opened his curtain, James was staring at him from his bed.

“James,” Remus said, standing up. James looked away and crossed his arms. “James, please. Just let me explain myself. Let’s go downstairs and talk.” James grumbled but stood up, following Remus’ lead out of the room. Sirius and Peter exchanged a look as they watched, thinking that Remus had to be insane. Remus found an empty corner of the common room and sat down, motioning to a chair for James.

“Whatever you say, you’re not allowed to see her again,” James grunted, the morning still prevalent in his voice. Remus sighed.

“Look, James. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We were waiting to tell you, I was waiting until she was ready. I know what I did was selfish and unfair to you, but I couldn’t break her trust,” Remus scooted his chair closer, “James, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She makes me so happy and I can’t imagine my life without her. Please, just give me a chance to show you,” Remus pleaded. James looked up with concern in his eyes, but shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Remus. But I can’t let you date my sister. After you’ve been lying to me all this time, how can I trust you with her?” James said matter of fact, crossing his arms in defiance. Remus rolled his eyes.

“But it’s different with you and Regulus?”

“Wh-what?” He stuttered, taken aback. His face was flushed in a deep shade of red.

“Please, James. You think I haven’t noticed you hoarding the map for the past few months? Plus, you’re really not subtle when you’re staring at him for the entirety of dinner,” Remus muttered, rolling his eyes again at his friend’s hypocrisy. James cleared his throat and sat up.

“What does this have to do with my sister?” James asked in a high pitch strain.

“James, you’re keeping the same secret from Sirius. Do you think that makes your feelings for Regulus any less genuine? I don’t. Just please James, give me a chance to show you how good I can treat her. You know I’m better for Y/N than any other git in this school,” Remus reasoned, finally feeling confident. James pondered this. It was true that if anyone was going to date his little sister, perhaps Remus wouldn’t be the worst choice.

“Fine, but we’re going to have a talk tonight. All three of us,” James said, wagging his finger at Remus. Remus was beaming.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re not going to regret this, I promise,” Remus stood up and clapped James on the back.

“Um, you’re not going to tell Sirius about Regulus, right?” James asked with a sheepish smile. Remus laughed.

“Of course not, Prongs.”

[bluetooththereptile]

Crimson bride

(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?

Tw: mentions of violence and abuse

The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!

The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.

"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!

You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...

They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.

Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.

Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."

"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.

Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.

[kenacoki]

A Night To Remember

// Pairing // Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley x Fem!Reader

// Genre // fluff

// Summary // With your birthday right around the corner, the 118 decide to throw you a surprise birthday party. Unbeknownst to you, that wouldn’t be the only surprise of the night…

// Word count // 3.5k

// Warnings // none!

// Dividers // sister-lucifer

“No, no, no…a little to my left—yep. Perfect!” Buck glances down at the clipboard in his hand as he checks off the final box on the list. “And that’s it!”

Hen and Eddie look at each other as they descend from their ladders, both stepping back to admire the banner.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY (Y/N)!’

“It looks great, Buck.” Hen smiles as she spares a glance behind her to the entrance of the firehouse. “Does Bobby have the cake done yet?”

“Yep! He had to let it cool for a minute, but he’s up in the loft icing it now.” Buck explains as he sets down the clipboard. “I’m going to go change before (y/n) gets here.”

Eddie checks the time on his phone, “Better hurry, man. She should be getting here anytime.”

By the time Eddie looks back up, Buck is already gone from his sight. He laughs to himself as he trods up the stairs to the loft, “He’s hopeless.”

Eddie’s only upstairs for a few moments before he hears your voice calling out from downstairs.

“Hello! Buck…Hen…Eddie…? Where is every-”

“SURPRISE!”

The abrupt chorus of cheers catches you off guard causing you to panic at first. Jumping slightly, you look up towards the loft and see most of the crew peering down over the railing looking at you.

“Jesus Christ, are you guys trying to give me a heart attack…” you laugh, hustling up the stairs. As you reach the loft, you feel your breath hitch in your throat at the sight of the decorations.

The room is filled with twinkling lights, giving off a dreamy atmosphere. The tables are adorned with white tablecloths and celestial-themed centerpieces, adding to the starry ambiance. The walls are adorned with streamers of various shades of dark blue and black, resembling the color of the sky after the sun goes down. The entire space has an almost whimsical touch.

“Oh wow…” you glance around the room in disbelief, overwhelmed with happiness. You let a shaky breath escape your lips, “You…you guys did all of this for me?”

“Is it someone else’s birthday and we don’t know it?” A voice speaks up from behind you…Buck. You whip around and catch sight of your best friend hustling up the loft stairs, “Cause the cake says (y/n)…and that’d be a real pain to change.”

A smile curls at your lips as you playfully roll your (e/c) eyes, “Ha. Ha. Where’d you learn that joke? The back of a cereal box?”

Buck’s hand plops down onto the top of your head as he ruffles your (h/c) hair, causing it to become messy.

“Hey!”

Buck laughs and walks over beside Eddie. You grumble to yourself as you attempt to fix your hair. While you’re doing this, Bobby quietly grabs the chocolate cake he’s prepared and carefully walks over to you.

“Happy birthday to you…” Your head snaps around as you hear Bobby begin to sing, your eyes widening at the sight of the cake.

The rest of the 118 starts to chime in, “Happy birthday dear, (y/n)…” Bobby holds the cake out in front of you, and the reflection of the candle on the cake flickers in your eyes.

“Happy birthday to you!” With a deep breath, you close your eyes and gently blow the candle out…

“What’d ya wish for?” Chimney questions, taking the pan from Bobby as he starts to cut slices of cake for everyone.

For a moment, your gaze drifts over to Buck…his face contorted in a smile at something that Eddie’s said. The outer corners of his eyes are crinkled from how hard he’s smiling. You can’t help it as your heart flutters in your chest at the sight.

Of course, it’s right then Buck would avert his attention to you. Your gazes lock briefly…you can feel the hair on the back of your neck raise as your cheeks take on a slight twinge of pink. Coughing, you avert your attention back in the direction of Chimney.

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t come true. Do you want that for me, Chim? For my wish to die.” You joke, attempting to cover the flustered expression on your face.

Bobby smiles as he rolls his eyes at your behavior, letting Chimney place a piece of cake on his plate. Chimney places a piece onto his plate, “You know, this whole surprise party idea was Buck’s, believe it or not.”

His brown eyes meet yours as he places a piece of cake on your plate, “The man is a menace when he gets a clipboard.”

The group can’t help but chuckle at Chimney's comment, Hen and Eddie giving Buck a sly smile. Meanwhile, Buck’s face turns a light shade of red in embarrassment. You smile in amusement at Chim’s teasing.

Buck clears his throat, trying to change the subject, “Anyway…” he mutters, a hint of redness still apparent on his cheeks as he approaches Chimney. “Give me a slice of cake.”

Chimney dramatically groans before plopping a piece down on Buck’s plate, “There you go, buckaroo.”

Buck looks at him unamused as he strides toward you, his voice quiet so only you can hear him.

“C’mon…” He walks over to the emergency exit door. Your brows furrow in confusion as you cautiously trail behind him, cake still in hand.

“Uhh…where are we going?” You question, watching as Buck uses his behind to open the door. He brings his finger to his lips, silently shushing you.

“You’ll see…” The two of you start up the stairs, the noise from the party slowly fading into the background as you get closer to the roof. Your mind is filled with curiosity and anticipation as you follow him, your guys' steps echoing throughout the stairwell.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he pushes open the door and steps outside onto the roof of the firehouse. The warm night air of L.A. surrounds you as you step outside, the heavy door closing behind you. The only noise provided being the sounds of the city off in the distance.

Buck walks to the edge of the roof that overlooks the city, taking in the bright lights. He sets his plate of cake down on the parapet surrounding the roof, he puts his hands in his pockets. There’s a small, almost contemplative smile on his face.

“You better have a good reason for dragging me away from my party, Buckley.” You jokingly tease, settling yourself beside him. You rest your elbows on the stone parapet, turning your attention towards Buck.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye as you speak, his eyebrows raising in amusement. He lets out a small chuckle as he turns to fully face you.

“Oh come on, am I not allowed to have a private moment with you on your birthday.” He teases, a wide smile on his face.

He slowly takes a step closer to you, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. The smile on his face is coy like he’s got something up his sleeve.

“I uh, wanted to be the first one to give you your birthday present.”

Your eyebrows raise at his words. He-he got you a gift? A wave of curiosity fills your mind as you wonder what he could have possibly gotten you…

He reaches into his back pocket, his hand emerging with a small, crumpled-up black velvet bag. He holds it out to you, a sheepish grin on his face, “Here ya go. Happy birthday.”

You tentatively reach out and take the bag, your heart skipping a beat as your fingers brush against his. Your heart pounding in anticipation as you bring the bag closer to you.

You slowly open the small bag, your eyes widening as you peek inside. Reaching inside, your fingers brush against something cold and metal. You glance up at Buck curiously…just what exactly did he get you?

Holding the object in your hand, you raise it to eye level so you can see it properly. Your breath catches in your throat as you get a good look at the item in front of you. It’s a delicate golden necklace, a small sunshine charm with your initials engraved on it dangling from the center…

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight of the necklace, any words instantly dying in your throat. You look up at Buck, your eyes meeting his with a look of complete shock and awe on your face.

Buck smiles back at you, a hint of shyness in his expression. He looks almost nervous as if he’s waiting for you to say something, “You, uh, like it?” he asks, a small bit of uncertainty in his tone.

You open and close your mouth a few times, struggling to find the words. You’re completely stunned by the gift, your heart swelling with emotions. After a moment, you manage to find your voice.

“I…I-It’s beautiful..” you whisper. “I love it.”

Buck’s crooked smile widens, his nervous expression turning to one of pride. He clears his throat, his eyes studying you for a moment, “Do you want me to put it on you?”

Your heart nearly beats out of your chest at his question, the idea of having him put the necklace on you making your heart race in your chest. It’s such a simple, innocent act…and yet, here you are feeling like this. A small shiver runs down your spine as you look up at him; the butterflies in your stomach back in full gear.

“Would you?”

Buck’s eyes seem to gleam at your question, “Yeah, of course. Turn around for me.” he replies, his voice soft.

You spin around slowly, your back now facing him. Your heart is pounding like crazy, every fiber of your being filled with anticipation as you feel him step up right behind you. Buck basically pressed against your back. You feel his fingers brush against the nape of your neck, his warm touch sending jolts of electricity shooting throughout your body. You have to refrain from involuntarily shivering as he leans closer to you.

Buck is incredibly gentle as he brings the necklace to your neck. You feel the cool gold of the necklace against your skin, the metal sending another shiver down your spine. His fingers graze the back of your neck, his nails brushing against your skin as he carefully fastens the clasp.

The feeling of his touch against your skin is enough to almost drive you insane. Your heart thundering in your chest as you desperately try to control yourself.

Slowly, you turn around to face him, one of your hands instantly reaching up to touch the necklace that’s now sitting delicately on your collarbone. As you look up at Buck, you notice the way he’s staring down at you, his eyes taking in the sight of you with the beautiful necklace around your neck.

Buck stares down at you for a moment, his eyes taking in the way the necklace hangs across your collarbone as you toy with it with your fingers. He seems unable to tear his gaze away like you’re a piece of art that he’s admiring.

After a moment, he seems to catch himself, and he clears his throat softly, “It, uh, looks good on you…” he mutters quietly.

A small smile immediately forms on your face at his words, your chest fills with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You couldn’t deny that knowing he bought this and put it on you sent butterflies through your stomach, “Thank you...”

Buck’s smile warms at your response. He reaches out and gently fiddles with the necklace, his fingers brushing against your skin as he toys with the small sunshine charm, “I…I was hoping you’d like it. I wanted to get you something special for your birthday.”

You feel your stomach flutter as his fingers keep brushing against your skin, the sensations overwhelming you. You swallow down the lump in your throat, trying to compose yourself as you speak again. “It’s-it’s absolutely perfect, Buck. I’m so grateful you got it for me.”

Buck’s eyes meet yours as you speak, he seems to study you for a moment. He’s still standing incredibly close to you, so close that you can practically feel his body heat and breath on your face. The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering wildly, your heart pounding in your chest…you break your gaze away and look back towards the rooftop door.

“We…we should uh, get back to the party before—”

However, before you can finish, Buck slowly reaches his hand out and places it on your cheek; his touch sending another jolt through your body. He gently guides you to look back at him, his blue eyes locking with yours. You can see the fire in them, a hint of something in his gaze that you can’t quite decipher.

“I-I want to give you one more thing..” he says, his voice quieter than before.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the thought of another present from Buck sends even more anticipation through you. Your mind races, unable to even fathom what it could be…you nod at his words, your own voice now a whisper.

“Yeah?”

Buck nods in response, his thumb gently caressing your cheek in the process. He hesitates for a moment, almost as if he’s debating how to proceed, “Just- just close your eyes. I want this to be a surprise.”

Your mind is spinning as he speaks, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. You give him a tiny nod, the anticipation making your hands shake. You close your eyes like he asked, your mind racing with a million different questions.

Buck’s touch disappears from your face for a moment, your heart clenches at the loss of contact. You hear him shifting, his body moving and his feet shuffling against the roof. After a moment, you feel his touch on your cheek again, his hand moving back to its original place. He gently guides your head towards him.

As you keep your eyes closed, your heart is practically racing out of your chest as you wait for what’s about to happen. Then suddenly, you are completely overwhelmed with the scent of him, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your nose.

He lets out a shaky breath, “You-you mean the world to me…” His tone is slightly pleading as if he’s begging you to trust him.

You’re tempted to open your eyes, curiosity making you itch to see what he’s about to do..your mouth opens as you start to question what he’s doing—

But before you can speak, you’re interrupted by a feeling of his soft lips pressed against yours. Despite being told to keep your eyes closed, they immediately shoot open. All thought leaves your mind as he kisses you, your body instantly responding to his touch. He’s incredibly gentle, his lips softly moving against yours like he’s afraid to push you too far.

You feel his hand on your cheek drift up into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. he gently tilts your head back, the action pushing the kiss even deeper. Your mind is overwhelmed with sensations, the feeling of his body against yours, of his lips moving in unison with yours; your eyes flutter back shut.

You raise your hands instinctively, bringing them to his torso and clutching onto the soft fabric of his henley shirt. The need for air becomes too much, causing you two to break apart from one another.

Buck’s breath is shaky as he rests his forehead against yours. Your faces are still just centimeters away from each other. You slowly open your eyes, your vision still slightly blurred by the shock of what just happened. His eyes stare back at you, a mixture of emotions swirling behind them.

He looks completely flustered, his expression filled with a mixture of awe and slight worry. His hand is still on the side of your face, his other hand resting on the dip of your waist; he’s still holding you incredibly close.

You’re both quiet for a moment, neither of you wanting to be the first to say anything. As your heart pounds, your mind still struggling to process how this just happened. Buck finally breaks the silence, clearing his throat and loosening his grip on you.

“I-I’m sorry I…I couldn’t stop myself... I just…” he mutters, his voice shaky and filled with a hint of uncertainty, he looks like he’s scared you’re going to hate him for what he just did.

You’re frozen for a moment, still trying to recover from the shock of what just happened. However, you can’t ignore the fact that as shocked as you are, you absolutely loved every second of that kiss. Your heart flutters and you bring your hand up to his cheek, your fingers caressing his skin gently.

“Don’t…Don’t apologize..”

Buck’s eyes widen slightly at your words, shock, and relief appearing on his face as he realizes that you’re not mad. He gently leans his face into your hand as you touch his cheek, his body relaxing as he realizes that you’re not going to yell at him.

“You, uh, you’re not upset that I did that..?” he says, some of the shakiness still in his tone.

You almost scoff at how ridiculous that sounds. You’re the exact opposite of upset, and it shocks you that he doesn’t know that.

“Upset? No way.” you reply, your heart still fluttering at the idea of him doing that, of him kissing you so intensely, “Why would I be upset about something that I’ve wanted for so long..?”

Buck’s eyes widen even more at your words, his expression morphing from slight shock to disbelief.

“Y-you-you’ve-you want-” He seems momentarily stunned, like he’s not quite believing what you just said. He swallows the lump in his throat.

“You-you’ve wanted me to do that?” He asks, his voice a tad bit quiet.

You nod slightly at his words, heat rising back up to your cheeks. It’s almost comical how surprised he looks that you wanted him to kiss you, or that you like it. You smile slightly when you respond.

“Why else do you think my heart’s beating a mile a minute?” You tease. “Of course, I’ve wanted you to do that..”

Buck’s expression changes even more at your words, now shifting from slight shock to pure bewilderment. He’s looking at you as if he’s not quite sure he’s hearing everything right.

“B-but…you’ve never said anything to me..never gave me any kind of hint..” His tone is still slightly hesitant.

You sigh, leaning against the parapet and looking back out at the city, “I…I never thought that you felt the same.”

“You thought…you thought I didn’t feel that way?” he asks, his words filled with disbelief.

You sheepishly nod at his words.

“I…I mean...yeah. I didn’t think you were at all interested in me. Honestly, I thought you just saw me as a friend.” You reply, your heart clenching at the realization that you had both been pining for each other this whole time, both thinking the other didn’t want more.

Buck looks at you for a moment, completely stunned at that information. His eyes are wide, the look of surprise still etched on his face as he speaks again.

“So what you’re telling me is…we’ve been idiots this whole time..?”

You nearly laugh at the statement, realizing that he was completely right. You both thought the other didn’t feel that way when in reality, both of you wanted the same exact thing.

“Yeah…yeah I guess we have...” You gently respond.

Buck continues to stare at you for a moment longer before small, toothy grin forms on his face. He shakes his head slightly, he can’t stop himself from letting out a small chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation. You can’t help but laugh along as you slide your other hand down and intertwine yours with Buck’s.

You two laugh for a moment; You have both been pining for each other this whole time and had really no idea. After a second you both manage to regain somewhat of your composure, Buck’s smirk still on his face.

“You ready to get back to your party?”

You let out a dramatic sigh before rolling your eyes. At the moment, the last thing you really wanted to do was go back to your party and pretend everything was normal. Hell, you’d just kissed your best friend who you’d had a major crush on for years.

“Ugh. Yeah... I guess we should.” You say, your words laced with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Buck chuckles under his breath at your sarcasm, clearly amused at your demeanor. He gives your hand a small squeeze as he responds, “C'mon. The faster we get back down there, the faster we can leave and go do something else..”

Your heart flutters at the way he emphasizes the words “Go do something else”. You know exactly what he’s referring to, he wanted to be alone with you as much as you wanted to be alone with him. You nod slightly at him, smiling as you respond.

“That sounds like an absolutely fantastic idea…”

[askinkiskarma]

Okay imagine this. Neteyam and reader having a moment and get interrupted my tuk. Of course her being little doesn't know what she saw. Until its dinner time and she brings it up . Out loud ....infront of the entire clan.

i would actually die if this happened to me ngl

enjoy anonnie x

wc: 500 words

Na'vi words used: yawne - beloved, prrnen - baby, sa'nok - mother, tskmuke - sister

"Baby, you have to keep it down, people are going to hear you."

"Let them hear, yawne. What's wrong with everyone hearing how good you fuck me every night?"

Famous last words.

Suffice it to say you were mortified. It's not everyday your baby sister... or Neteyam's baby sister, in fact, but at this point, she might as well be yours... walks in on you... doing things... things that no child should ever see, things that no adult should ever have to explain to a child, things that were so beyond what you could reasonably justify. To be fair, though, the flap of the tent was closed, and it was the middle of the night, and you were making noises that pretty much every other human being over the age of like 15 would be able to gauge for what they were and keep a respectable distance. But Tuk... sweet Tuk, innocent Tuk, the-cutest-pie-to-ever-live Tuk, she was attracted by the noises that she thought were indicative of you being in pain. That, in addition to the fact she was rudely awoken by Lo'ak's incessant snores again and felt she would fare better sleeping in your tent, led to this horrifying moment of blind panic and haphazard movements, trying to untangle your limbs and cover your bodies in sheets and blankets.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, my God, Tuk! What are you doing here, baby?"

"I thought you were hurt, you were screaming!"

Neteyam couldn't help the burst of laughter that escaped him, and neither could you help the scowl that you sent in his direction.

"Oh, baby. I'm alright, I just had a... cramp. Neteyam was on top of me because he was... helping me... massage the spot where it hurt."

The next morning, you forcefully placed a pack of nose strips that you stole from Norm in Lo'ak's hand.

"Here. Use them."

"Why?"

"Because your snoring will bring this family to its knees."

Lo'ak raised an eyebrow at your annoyed disposition.

"You don't even sleep in the same tent as us."

"Yes, but Tuk does. And she can't sleep because of you."

"Yes! I had to sleep in brother and sister's tent last night because of you, Lo'ak!"

You looked at Neteyam from the corner of your eye, praying that the conversation ends there.

"Oh, ma prrnen, did you sleep well at least?" Neytiri came close and knelt by her baby's side, patting her head affectionately.

"Not that well, sa'nok. I was worried for tsmuke since I didn't want another cramp to hurt her, she was in a lot of pain when I came in. But whatever Neteyam was doing on top of her seemed to help, so I thought I could help too if she had another cramp."

You groaned, feeling an actual cramp coming when all the heads in the room snapped in your direction, and as soon as Lo'ak and Jake started cackling and Kiri started making gagging noises, you knew you would never hear the end of this.