#luxury cabins in broken bow

[brownbowadventures]

Explore the Premium & Luxury Cabins in Broken Bow

Experience ultimate luxury at our top-notch cabins in Broken Bow. With carefully designed accommodations, enjoy comfort and elegance surrounded by nature. Treat yourself to upscale amenities and stunning views, making your getaway truly unforgettable. Enjoy relaxation and sophistication at its finest in our Luxury Cabins in Broken Bow.

[greatescapeshomes]

Luxury vacation rentals oklahoma

Introduction to Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

What defines luxury vacation rentals?

Why Oklahoma is an attractive destination for luxury vacations.

Top Destinations for Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

Overview of popular destinations.

Unique features of each destination.

Luxury Amenities Offered in Oklahoma Vacation Rentals

Highlight luxurious amenities available.

How these amenities enhance the vacation experience.

Benefits of Choosing Luxury Vacation Rentals Over Traditional Accommodations

Cost-effectiveness.

Privacy and exclusivity.

Personalized experiences.

Tips for Finding the Perfect Luxury Vacation Rental in Oklahoma

Researching reputable rental companies.

Reading reviews and ratings.

Considering location and amenities.

Luxury Vacation Rental Trends in Oklahoma

Current trends in luxury vacation rentals.

How these trends cater to the evolving needs of travelers.

Customer Testimonials and Experiences

Real-life stories of travelers who have stayed in luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma.

The impact of these experiences on their vacations.

Environmental Sustainability in Luxury Vacation Rentals

The importance of sustainability in modern travel.

How luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma contribute to sustainability efforts.

Challenges and Solutions in Luxury Vacation Rentals

Common challenges faced by luxury rental property owners.

Innovative solutions to overcome these challenges.

Planning the Ultimate Luxury Vacation in Oklahoma

Step-by-step guide to planning a luxurious getaway.

Must-visit attractions and activities in Oklahoma.

Safety and Security Measures in Luxury Vacation Rentals

Importance of safety and security for travelers.

Protocols implemented by luxury rental properties to ensure guest safety.

Cultural and Historical Significance of Oklahoma

Exploring the rich culture and history of Oklahoma.

How luxury vacation rentals provide opportunities for cultural immersion.

Future of Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

Predictions for the future of luxury travel in Oklahoma.

Emerging trends and innovations in the industry.

Conclusion

Summarize key points.

Reiterate the allure of luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma.

FAQs

What sets luxury vacation rentals apart from standard accommodations?

How can I ensure a luxurious experience in Oklahoma vacation rentals?

Are luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma suitable for families?

What amenities can I expect in luxury vacation rentals?

How do I book a luxury vacation rental in Oklahoma?

White Tail Retreat | Broken Bow

Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

Oklahoma may not be the first destination that comes to mind when you think of luxury vacations, but this hidden gem in the heart of the United States offers a plethora of upscale accommodations and experiences for discerning travelers. From breathtaking landscapes to cultural landmarks, Oklahoma has something to offer every luxury traveler. In this article, we’ll explore the allure of luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma and why it’s worth considering for your next getaway.

Introduction to Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

When it comes to luxury travel, comfort, exclusivity, and personalized experiences are paramount. Luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma epitomize these qualities, offering travelers the opportunity to indulge in opulent accommodations amidst the beauty of the Sooner State. Whether you’re seeking a secluded cabin retreat or a lavish estate with panoramic views, Oklahoma has a diverse range of luxury rentals to suit every taste and preference.

Top Destinations for Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

Oklahoma boasts a myriad of stunning destinations that are perfect for luxury vacations. From the vibrant city life of Oklahoma City to the serene landscapes of Broken Bow, each destination offers its own unique charm and attractions. For those craving a taste of luxury in the great outdoors, the picturesque Lake Tenkiller and Beavers Bend State Park are popular choices, while history enthusiasts may prefer the historic charm of Guthrie or the cultural hub of Tulsa.

Luxury Amenities Offered in Oklahoma Vacation Rentals

What sets luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma apart are the lavish amenities and features they offer. From private hot tubs and infinity pools to gourmet kitchens and theater rooms, these rentals spare no expense in providing the ultimate comfort and convenience for guests. Imagine waking up to stunning lake views, enjoying a leisurely breakfast on a spacious deck, and spending the day exploring the scenic beauty of the surrounding landscape.

Benefits of Choosing Luxury Vacation Rentals Over Traditional Accommodations

While luxury vacation rentals may come with a higher price tag, the benefits they offer far outweigh the cost. Unlike crowded hotels and resorts, luxury rentals provide unparalleled privacy, allowing you to relax and unwind in a serene environment away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. Additionally, these rentals often come with a range of personalized services and amenities, ensuring that every aspect of your stay is tailored to your preferences.

Tips for Finding the Perfect Luxury Vacation Rental in Oklahoma

Finding the perfect luxury vacation rental in Oklahoma requires careful consideration and research. Start by identifying your priorities and preferences, whether it’s location, amenities, or budget. Utilize reputable rental websites and read reviews from previous guests to gauge the quality of the property and the level of service provided. Don’t hesitate to reach out to the property owner or manager to ask any questions or address any concerns you may have before booking.

Luxury Vacation Rental Trends in Oklahoma

The luxury travel industry is constantly evolving, with new trends and innovations shaping the way we experience vacations. In Oklahoma, there’s a growing demand for eco-friendly and sustainable luxury rentals, with properties implementing green initiatives such as solar panels, rainwater harvesting systems, and organic gardens. Additionally, technology plays a significant role in enhancing the guest experience, with smart home features, virtual concierge services, and immersive entertainment options becoming increasingly popular.

Customer Testimonials and Experiences

Real-life testimonials from satisfied guests can provide valuable insights into the quality and experience of a luxury vacation rental. Many travelers rave about the unparalleled beauty of Oklahoma’s landscapes, the warmth and hospitality of the local communities, and the seamless blend of luxury and authenticity that these rentals offer. Whether it’s a romantic getaway, a family retreat, or a solo adventure, Oklahoma’s luxury vacation rentals leave a lasting impression on every guest.

Environmental Sustainability in Luxury Vacation Rentals

In an era of increasing environmental awareness, sustainability has become a key consideration for luxury travelers. Fortunately, many luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma are committed to eco-friendly practices, from using renewable energy sources to minimizing waste and conserving water. By choosing to stay in these environmentally conscious properties, travelers can minimize their carbon footprint and contribute to the preservation of Oklahoma’s natural beauty for future generations to enjoy.

Challenges and Solutions in Luxury Vacation Rentals

While luxury vacation rentals offer unparalleled comfort and luxury, they also come with their own set of challenges for property owners and managers. From maintenance and upkeep to marketing and guest relations, managing a luxury rental property requires careful attention to detail and a commitment to excellence. However, innovative solutions such as property management software, concierge services, and strategic partnerships can help streamline operations and enhance the guest experience.

Planning the Ultimate Luxury Vacation in Oklahoma

Planning a luxurious getaway in Oklahoma is easier than ever, thanks to the wealth of resources and attractions available. Start by choosing your ideal destination and accommodations, then create an itinerary that highlights the best that Oklahoma has to offer. Whether you’re exploring the vibrant arts scene of Oklahoma City, embarking on a scenic hike in the Wichita Mountains, or indulging in gourmet dining and shopping in Tulsa, you’re sure to create memories that will remain a lifetime.

Safety and Security Measures in Luxury Vacation Rentals

Safety and security are top priorities for luxury vacation rental properties in Oklahoma. From secure keyless entry systems to 24/7 surveillance cameras and on-site security personnel, these rentals go above and beyond to ensure the safety and well-being of their guests. Additionally, properties may offer additional amenities such as emergency response kits, first aid supplies, and contact information for local emergency services to provide peace of mind to travelers during their stay.

Cultural and Historical Significance of Oklahoma

Beyond its natural beauty and modern amenities, Oklahoma is rich in history and culture, with a diverse tapestry of traditions and heritage to explore. From the vibrant Native American communities to the cowboy culture of the Wild West, Oklahoma offers a unique opportunity to immerse yourself in the stories and experiences of the past. Many luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma are located near historic sites, museums, and cultural attractions, allowing guests to learn and appreciate the rich tapestry of Oklahoma’s heritage.

Future of Luxury Vacation Rentals in Oklahoma

As the travel industry continues to evolve, the future of luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma looks promising. With advancements in technology, sustainability, and guest experience, luxury properties are poised to become even more desirable and sought after by travelers seeking the ultimate in comfort, convenience, and exclusivity. Whether you’re planning a romantic escape, a family reunion, or a solo adventure, Oklahoma’s luxury vacation rentals offer endless possibilities for unforgettable experiences and cherished memories.

Conclusion

Luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma offer the perfect blend of comfort, exclusivity, and adventure for discerning travelers seeking an unforgettable getaway. From opulent accommodations and breathtaking landscapes to personalized experiences and unparalleled hospitality, Oklahoma has something to offer every luxury traveler. Whether you’re indulging in a relaxing retreat or embarking on an outdoor adventure, luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma provide the perfect backdrop for creating cherished memories that will last a lifetime.

FAQs

What sets luxury vacation rentals apart from standard accommodations? Luxury vacation rentals offer exclusive amenities, personalized services, and unparalleled privacy, providing a superior experience compared to traditional accommodations such as hotels and resorts.

How can I ensure a luxurious experience in Oklahoma vacation rentals? Research reputable rental companies, read reviews from previous guests, and communicate your preferences and expectations with the property owner or manager to ensure a luxurious experience in Oklahoma vacation rentals.

Are luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma suitable for families? Yes, many luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma are spacious and equipped with family-friendly amenities such as game rooms, outdoor recreation areas, and fully equipped kitchens, making them ideal for family vacations.

What amenities can I expect in luxury vacation rentals? Luxury vacation rentals in Oklahoma may offer a range of amenities including private pools, hot tubs, gourmet kitchens, theater rooms, outdoor fire pits, and stunning panoramic views.

How do I book a luxury vacation rental in Oklahoma? To book a luxury vacation rental in Oklahoma, start by researching rental properties online, reading reviews, and contacting the property owner or manager to inquire about availability, rates, and booking procedures.

[jelzorz]

191.

Opeli has never been to the Banther Lodge.

She has never had a reason to. Typically, it's used as a retreat for the royal family during the winter festivities, although once, one of Ezran's distant relatives had lent it to the city orphanage to use while their own building was being rebuilt after a fire. It's large for a cabin, obviously supposed to be rustic without losing its air of luxury, and without the castle...

Well. It's better than camping in the temples, that's for sure. It's too far away from the city to use as a permanent base, but it will have to do until other arrangements can be made. Tents have sprung up on the grounds to house both soldiers and refugees, and although it's crowded and busy, Opeli likes it.

It's a quiet place, nestled in the heart of the woods, away from the hustle and bustle of the city with enough space to breathe, to think, to simply be without all the trappings of court life. All things considered, it's a lovely reprieve, and she wonders if, one day, she might be able to come out here and enjoy it for what it is. There's just... one thing about this current arrangement that sets her on edge.

The kingslayer sharpens his blades.

Opeli's fingers twitch.

It has not been an easy few weeks. The attack on the castle was grave indeed, and although Ezran and Corvus had returned with Queen Aanya's troops and Queen Janai's to provide aid and assistance, the loss of their home still rings painfully through camp. Prince Callum and Rayla had returned shortly afterwards as well, and Opeli had been pleased to see them, her unofficial wards home and safe, until Rayla had ushered forward someone new—or someone not so new, and all hell had broken loose among their friends.

For what little it's worth, Ezran had managed it well. His pain was most obvious in his eyes and in the crack of his voice, and he'd been composed as he dealt with it but hasn't spoken to Callum in days. He holds his anger tight, keeps it all buried under the mountains of things they have to do, blue eyes filled with cold that he doesn't let leech into his words, but he avoids the issue entirely and spends almost all his free time with Queen Aanya or Corvus, people he can't be angry with, people to distract him from kinglsaying banther in the room.

Opeli has been less mature about it, if that can be believed. She had Rayla arrested once for breaking into the chambers beneath the castle to steal the kingslayer's bow, but Callum has made it clear that he will not stand for that, so instead Opeli funnels her frustration into sharp words and biting remarks, which she does not temper, even for Callum.

The air is tense. Their council is fractured. But if Ezran won't let himself be angry, the Justice help her, Opeli will be angry in his place.

It's dinnertime. Everyone is pulling double duty because the circumstances demand it, and Opeli is helping Barius dole out the food tonight to give the other staff a bit of a break. She passes bowls of stew to Ezran, to Corvus, to Soren, to Queen Aanya, her lips tilted in an appreciative smile as they thank her, and then slams bowls wordlessly down before Callum and Rayla and the other elf who only shifts uncomfortably in his seat as the stew sloshes over the rim.

"Enjoy your dinner," she snaps, and Callum, because he's Callum, snarls and snaps back.

"What the hell is your problem, Opeli?" he demands. "You've been passive aggressive about everything for days. This isn't okay anymore."

Opeli bristles at him. "And I suppose it's okay to have a murderer at the table instead."

"He was imprisoned in a magical coin for years, he's been punished enough—"

"Has he?" Opeli sneers. "Historically, kingslayers are hanged."

"You need to back the hell off—"

"That's enough!"

Silence falls over them, and things are dire indeed because it comes from Soren. He glared at Callum and Rayla, the elf with them shrinking beneath it, but it's Opeli that he turns to, that he offers his hand to, that he ushers away from the table leaving Callum, Rayla, and the elf alone and in silence in the dining hall.

Opeli waits until they are out of earshot before she rounds on Soren too. "You're not defending that murderer now, surely."

"No," mutters Soren darkly, "but Callum's right. You need to back off."

She scowls, affronted. "That elf shouldn't even be here," she snaps. "He murdered King Harrow, and would have murdered King Ezran too, if Rayla hadn't stood in his way. And they have the nerve to bring him here, our last stronghold, at a time like this?"

"I know," says Soren, grimacing. "I agree with you. But haven't we lost enough?"

"All the more reason he shouldn't be here."

Soren sighs. "He's Rayla's dad, Opeli. You have to let her have this."

"I certainly don't," says Opeli loftily. "Why on earth should he be allowed to walk free after the things he's done?"

"Because Rayla needs him," says Soren, "and not all of us are lucky enough to have a dad we can forgive."

A pause. A breath. A beat so heavy that Opeli feels it slam the air out of her chest. Soren looks away and swallows, his own conflict painfully clear in the way that he blinks and breathes and clenches his jaw.

She relents.

"I'll leave them be," she mutters at last. "But he can't be here long."

"He won't be," agrees Soren. "But just for now. Okay?"

"Yes." Opeli takes a breath and touches his arm, a promise to make an effort, for him more than for anyone else. "Just for now."

[brokenbowluxurycabins]

Luxury Comfort Like You Always Wanted: Blue Haven Luxury Cabin

When it comes to finding the perfect blend of luxury and comfort, look no further than the Blue Haven Luxury Cabin in Broken Bow, Oklahoma. Nestled amidst the picturesque beauty of the Ouachita National Forest, this exceptional cabin offers an unforgettable retreat where you can indulge in the lap of opulence while immersing yourself in nature's splendor. Whether you seek a romantic getaway, a family vacation, or simply a serene escape, Blue Haven Luxury Cabin promises an experience that exceeds all expectations. Broken Bow Luxury Cabins are awesome.

Unparalleled Luxury: The moment you step into Blue Haven Luxury Cabin, you will be greeted by an atmosphere of elegance and refinement. Every aspect of the cabin has been carefully designed to provide an unmatched level of luxury. From the tastefully furnished interiors to the finest amenities, no detail has been overlooked. The cabin features spacious living areas with plush seating, cozy fireplaces, and large windows that frame breathtaking views of the surrounding forest. High-end fixtures and premium materials adorn every room, creating an ambiance of indulgence.

Exceptional Amenities: Blue Haven Luxury Cabin raises the bar when it comes to amenities. The cabin offers a fully equipped gourmet kitchen where you can unleash your culinary skills, complete with top-of-the-line appliances and ample counter space. The dining area provides an ideal setting for intimate meals or entertaining guests. After a day of exploring the outdoors, unwind in the private hot tub on the spacious deck, soaking in the tranquility of the forest. The cabin also features a game room with a pool table, a state-of-the-art home theater system, and high-speed internet access to cater to your entertainment needs.

Scenic Surroundings: One of the highlights of Blue Haven Luxury Cabin is its idyllic location. Situated in the heart of the Ouachita National Forest, you will be immersed in the beauty of nature. The forest boasts a variety of activities for outdoor enthusiasts, including hiking, fishing, boating, and horseback riding. Take a leisurely stroll along the trails, explore the nearby Broken Bow Lake, or embark on an adventure in the Mountain Fork River. The captivating landscape offers endless opportunities to reconnect with nature and create unforgettable memories.

Unmatched Serenity: One of the most cherished aspects of Blue Haven Luxury Cabin is the peace and serenity it offers. Surrounded by towering trees and the sounds of nature, you can find solace and tranquility away from the hustle and bustle of daily life. Whether you choose to spend your days lounging on the deck, savoring the quiet moments, or curling up with a good book in front of the fireplace, this cabin provides a haven of relaxation and rejuvenation.

Blue Haven Luxury Cabin in Broken Bow, Oklahoma, sets the standard for an extraordinary luxury getaway. With its impeccable attention to detail, exceptional amenities, and breathtaking natural surroundings, it offers an unparalleled experience of comfort and opulence. Whether you are seeking a romantic escape, a family vacation, or a peaceful retreat, Blue Haven Luxury Cabin promises to exceed your expectations and leave you with cherished memories that will last a lifetime. Blue Haven Luxury Cabin is the answer to your search for Luxury Cabins Near Me.

[happyhourscabin]

Explore luxury cabins in Broken Bow and find your perfect getaway with the amenities you need. It's easy to live, work, or play anywhere you want with happyhourscabin.

[amerymuller]

Escape to Nature: Discover the Best OK Cabins for Your Next Getaway

Oklahoma is a state known for its natural beauty, and the best way to enjoy all it has to offer is by staying in a cozy and comfortable cabin. Whether you're looking for a romantic retreat, a family vacation, or a solo escape to nature, Oklahoma has a variety of Oklahoma vacation rentals to choose from. Here are some of the best OK cabins for your next getaway:

Beavers Bend State Park Cabins

Located in the southeastern part of Oklahoma, Beavers Bend State Park is a popular destination for outdoor enthusiasts. The park features miles of hiking trails, stunning waterfalls, and a variety of water activities. The cabins at Beavers Bend State Park are nestled in the woods, offering a peaceful and quiet retreat. These cabins feature comfortable beds, fully equipped kitchens, and outdoor amenities like hot tubs and fire pits.

Broken Bow Lake Cabins

Broken Bow Lake is a scenic and peaceful lake located in southeastern Oklahoma, offering a range of outdoor activities like fishing, boating, and swimming. The cabins at Broken Bow Lake offer a luxurious and comfortable stay, with amenities like fully equipped kitchens, hot tubs, and outdoor grills. Some cabins also feature stunning views of the lake.

Turner Falls Cabins

Turner Falls Park is a popular destination in southern Oklahoma, featuring a 77-foot waterfall and a natural swimming hole. The cabins at Turner Falls offer a cozy and comfortable stay, with amenities like fully equipped kitchens, comfortable beds, and outdoor areas with fire pits and grills. Some cabins also feature stunning views of the nearby hills and forests.

Grand Lake Cabins

Grand Lake is one of the largest lakes in Oklahoma, located in the northeastern part of the state. The cabins at Grand Lake offer a peaceful and scenic retreat, with amenities like fully equipped kitchens, comfortable beds, and outdoor areas with hot tubs and grills. Some cabins also feature stunning views of the lake.

Lake Murray Cabins

Lake Murray is a popular destination in southern Oklahoma, offering a variety of outdoor activities like fishing, boating, and hiking. The cabins at Lake Murray offer a comfortable and peaceful stay, with amenities like fully equipped kitchens, comfortable beds, and outdoor areas with fire pits and grills. Some cabins also feature stunning views of the lake.

In conclusion, Oklahoma is a state full of natural beauty, and the best way to enjoy all it has to offer is by staying in a cozy and comfortable cabin. Whether you're looking for a romantic retreat or a family vacation, the above OK cabins offer a variety of amenities and stunning natural surroundings. Consider booking one of these cabins for your next escape to nature.

[justinwilson0857]

Luxury Vacation Rentals in Broken Bow Great escapes homes, luxury cabins broken bow, treehouse cabins broken bow Oklahoma, vacation rentals broken bow Oklahoma, broken bow lake cabins.

[smorescabins]

Summer isn’t over yet, we still have 3 more weeks until the kids go back to school, why not plan the perfect end of Summer getaway to Broken Bow, OK to experience Beavers Bend State Park.  The kids deserve one last summer Hoorah!  Summer calls for fun, adventure, and outdoor exploration, that’s one of the prime reasons why moms and dads choose luxury cabins in Broken Bow to spend quality time with the people they love. So if you let this summer pass you by without any family adventure, you still have time, book a stay with S'mores Luxury Cabins to get away to Broken Bow – the #1 travel destination in the US.

[feynavaley]

Hetalia Writers Monthly – November 2020

This was written for @hetalia-writers-monthly challenge, I hope I managed to fit the theme!

Theme: Autumnal Prompt: Despair (warning: discussion of death and grief) Characters: Canada and France (Gen) Word Count: 1,416

———

What Comes After

Orange and red surrounded him from every side. A bright carpet all over the ground, spots covering the tree branches and rivalling the orange tinge of the sunset.

It was odd, that dying things would show such vibrant and lively colours. Jarring, even.

He had to divert his eyes.

Ignoring the way they stung, he focused them on the small stream right in front of his feet. There were still spots of orange and yellow – leaves swirling in the current – but the crystal-clear water left the grey rocks underneath visible. Cold colour and even colder water. That was much more fitting.

He was cold too, his extremities tingling and his pants damp from sitting so long on the leaves. The numbness was unpleasant, not enough to distract him from the throbbing in various part of his body. His brain knew that it was the painkillers wearing off.

He made no move to take action against it – pressed his lips tighter instead and refused to follow the natural urge to move his body in a more comfortable position.

Pain was what he deserved, after all; not the luxury of looking at the gorgeous scenery in front of him and let his mind be soothed by it. The pain was a reminder.

He didn’t know for how long he had been sitting when the carpet of dead leaves started crackling towards him. Long steps, but measured and deliberate.

He didn’t want to acknowledge the intruder – but it would be rude of him not to, after all. He had already caused enough trouble. Perhaps, not even getting the time to mourn was part of his punishment as well.

“Good evening, Francis,” he said as the steps halted right behind him, so close that he felt the slow exhale at his shoulders.

“Matthieu.”

Matthew acknowledged the greeting with a nod, grateful that Francis hadn’t tried to woe him with pleasantries. There was so much he should have done – asked Francis about the travel, rushed to make sure all his needs were covered… but Matthew was too numb for that.

“Can I sit here with you?” Francis asked after a few moments of silence.

Matthew answered with another automatic nod. Something bitter in his chest mourned the chance to be alone – but he had no right to be mad.

Francis settled at Matthew’s side. Matthew was aware of his slightly titled head and the periwinkle blue eyes scanning him, but he kept looking ahead and didn’t acknowledge them.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the occasional rustling of the leaves in the wind and the gentle burbling of the stream. Matthew could almost pretend that nothing had changed…

At last, Francis took a deep breath. His warm hand landed on Matthew’s right knee and gave it a steady yet gentle squeeze.

“Matthieu—”

“I’m sorry that you had to come all the way up here, Francis. I’m… I’m not going to be of much company these days. You shouldn’t have gone through all the trouble.”

Somehow, he kept his voice steady and perfectly polished until the end. Even if he had to curl his hands into fists to prevent them from trembling.

“But this is why I have to be here, mon coeur. And it’s no trouble. We just want to help, this comes before everything.”

We.

Not only Francis but Arthur and Alfred as well, back at the cabin. With the same, genuine eagerness in their voices as Francis, the same urge to help.

Matthew’s breath itched, his eyes were burning.

He was being so awfully selfish.

But which reaction was truly the selfish one?

“Don’t try to pretend you’re fine. You wouldn’t be here alone if you weren’t hurting.”

In spite of the reproach, Francis’s voice held a gentleness that made Matthew’s chest clench. The assessment wasn’t wrong – yet, he couldn’t take that compassion.

He swallowed thickly, trying to regain control of himself.

“It just isn’t fair,” he muttered at last, unable to articulate the tight knot of regret that clenched his chest.

Francis’s fingers briefly tightened over his knee.

“Life often isn’t.”

Simple words. So right, and at the same time so utterly wrong that they stole Matthew’s breath away.

“But this should have never happened! I am the one who is supposed to protect them! I’m not even human, I can be hurt or killed but I’ll always come back and instead he—”

Matthew would never forget those dark brown eyes. The quiet acceptance in them, the way they had reflected his gentle smile in that split of a second when he had taken his decision. His last one.

Dale Harrison, sixty-three years old. In good health and still with many years ahead of him. Dead in an accident that should have never happened. Dead because he had decided to push a teen-aged boy away and take the brunt of the impact. The death of a hero – an unnecessary death.

Matthew chocked back a sob. His breath was hot inside his mouth and nose, his throat felt clogged.

“And I was too slow. I was right there and I knew what was happening but I hadn’t thought he was going to do that, I should’ve been more alert, I could have prevented it if I just had—”

When Francis’s hold tightened on his knee, Matthew realized that his body was shaking. He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath, pressing his hands flat to the ground to steady himself.

“It was his own choice,” Francis reminded him.

Matthew shook his head, bitterness on his tongue.

“Well it was still useless! He didn’t know what he was doing! He wasn’t saving a boy, I wouldn’t have died! This… it should have never happened!”

Matthew found himself panting at the end of the rant. Tears welled up at the corner of his eyes, he tore away his glasses and brushed his eyes with the back of his hand, hating himself for his lack of self-restraint.

Fortunately, Francis diverted his eyes and got up, taking a few steps forward to give Matthew some space.

A small pang of humiliation hit Matthew’s chest – but there was also some relief underneath.

At last, Francis took a deep breath.

“Humans die, Matthieu. You know this. Whether today, tomorrow, or ten years from now… his time would have come.”

“I know he would have died anyway! But he could have—”

“Dying to protect a boy isn’t a bad way to go, all things considered.”

That shocked Matthew into silence. He took a deep breath, then stilled, unable to put his outrage into words.

Francis turned back towards him. There was grief in his features – but his ancient eyes were sharp, commanding Matthew to listen.

“Matthieu. You cannot burden yourself with the weight of somebody else’s decision. Whether ill-informed, or foolish… that man took his decision himself, and you could have done nothing to stop him.”

“But—”

“There are no ‘buts’. You can’t change what happened – you can only accept it and move forward. Are you going to honour Dale Harrison’s sacrifice and live the life he believes he has gifted you, or are you going to let it all go to waste?”

Matthew bowed his head. His chest was tight, hurting as if it had been struck by a blow.

“It isn’t fair,” he whispered in a pathetically weak voice.

The leaves around him crinkled, then, a strong pair of arms enveloped him in a hug.

“It isn’t. And you have the right to grieve. But don’t let the dead drag you with them – mourn them, and honour them by treasuring your own life. This is what they deserve for their bravery.”

At last, Matthew gave up his resolve and let his body melt into Francis’s welcoming arms.

It still isn’t fair.

So many people had died in front of Matthew’s eyes. Many more would follow them, he wasn’t that naïve. But to happen that way…

Francis, however, had relaxed as well, his gentle humming reverberating against Matthew’s chest.

Matthew closed his fists over the fabric of Francis’s woollen coat.

I’m so sorry, Mr Harrison. I really am. You didn’t deserve this.

It wasn’t fair. But while a man was dead, the people who cared for him were alive. Matthew couldn’t let them down.

Perhaps, that was why dead leaves looked so bright and full of life – as a reminder that even in front of death, life was more important.

“I’m… I’m tired, Francis. Can we please go home?”

[brownbowadventures]

Get utmost comfort and style with Luxury Cabins Broken Bow!!!

In the heart of scenic Ouachita Mountains, Broken Bow, Oklahoma, beckons travelers with its natural beauty and tranquil ambiance. For those seeking an indulgent escape from the ordinary, Broken Bow offers an array of luxurious cabins, each meticulously designed to provide the utmost in comfort and style. These opulent havens, set against the backdrop of lush forests and sparkling waters, redefine the meaning of relaxation and offer an enchanting retreat for couples in love.

Luxury Cabins in Broken Bow epitomize the epitome of extravagance and sophistication. These lavish accommodations are adorned with high-end furnishings, state-of-the-art amenities and thoughtful touches that cater to the most discerning travelers. Spacious living areas, gourmet kitchens, private hot tubs, and panoramic views are just a few of the features that elevate these cabins to the pinnacle of luxury. Guests are welcomed into an ambiance of elegance and refinement, where every detail is curated to provide a seamless blend of opulence and natural splendor.

For couples in search of romance, Romantic Cabins Broken Bow offers an intimate sanctuary where love blossoms amidst the beauty of nature. Nestled amid towering pines and overlooking picturesque landscapes, these cabins provide an ideal setting for couples to celebrate their love or rekindle the flames of romance. Warm, cozy interiors, crackling fireplaces, and plush furnishings create a romantic atmosphere that envelops guests in a cocoon of love and affection. Whether it's a honeymoon, anniversary, or a spontaneous getaway, romantic cabins in Broken Bow offer the perfect backdrop for unforgettable moments of togetherness.

A standout among the offerings is the concept of Broken Bow Cabins on the Water, where guests can indulge in the luxury of lakeside living. Imagine waking up to the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, sipping coffee on a private deck overlooking the water, and relishing the serenity of lakeside sunsets. These cabins offer direct access to the crystal-clear waters of Broken Bow Lake, allowing guests to engage in a myriad of water-based activities, from kayaking and fishing to leisurely boat rides. The allure lies in their ability to seamlessly blend the charm of lakeside living with comforts of a lavish retreat.

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[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Yamal Mission

In the first book IV quest of Dragon Raja appears to take place immediately after Luminous is installed as the Student Union President. However, this is not the case in the novels.

In the game, right after you celebrate Luminous’s new job, you are called in for a mission from EVA that will send you on a mission with Johann on the “Luxury Cruise ship.”

However, in the novel, Johann’s mission takes place a full year after these two scenes!!! I’m not sure why they did this, your character in the game should have reflected a whole year’s worth of new dragonslaying experience. At this point, your character is not a freshman, but a student well into their second year.

It also doesn’t make sense that Johann is in charge of the mission when the School Board tends to prioritize Hybrid bloodline over experience. For example, in Book 2, Johann is reporting to Luminous in the Quest to find the King of Earth and Mountains even though Luminous is otherwise inferior in everyway. It makes no sense that on a lesser quest of investigation, he’s your supervisor.

I just wanted to clarify these things to anyone who is going to do these quests in case they become confusing later.

Anyway, below is the translation of the second half of the Story Quest for 118

72 degrees north latitude, Greenland Sea

Under the dark night, the big scarlet boat rushed through the broken ice, leaving a 20 meter wide blue-black waterway behind.

This place is well within the Arctic Circle, and it is in the dead of winter. Although the sea surface is not completely frozen, the floating ice is all over the sea surface. Only this monster-class ice breaker dared to continue to rush towards the North Pole at this time.

The YAMAL, the world’s largest icebreaker, belonged to Russia. Two heavy water nuclear reactors provided it with almost endless power. The thick armored bow can easily smash a 6 meter iceberg. Among the icebreakers in the world, except for a few military monsters who identities cannot be disclosed, only this ship has sailed to the North Pole.

The tragedy of the Titanic will never happen to the YAMAL. What is an iceberg when you can just ram into it? The crew of the YAMAL has always  thought about the problem this way, which is why they can’t be hired by other polar cruise companies after they are retired... This group of people might end up driving an ordinary ship into an iceberg just out of habit.

“Hello! Hello! This is the YAMAL. We are sailing on he 72 degree North latitude line. Is there a dear friend nearby who can chat? I hope you’re an American with a sense of humor, ha! I met one German guy before who lived in Munich and he told a really cold joke. I didn’t get it until a week after I went ashore. Everyone thought I was crazy when I suddenly burst out laughing in the middle of a bar.”

A middle-aged Russian captain drank vodka straight from the bottle and yelled into the radio system, as if he were the host of an evening radio show.

The radio remained absolutely silent, without so much as static.

This was par for the course. In this season, there may be ten ships in the world that dared to sailed openly in the Arctic Ocean. At this moment, other ships  are either docked at military ports or scattered in other corners of the Arctic Ocean and the most advanced long-wave radio can only call a few hundreds of kilometers out.

In other words, they sail in a dead end space where almost no one can reach. A crew who frequently runs this route can suffer depression if they’re not careful and the best medicine on board for this malady is alcohol.

The captain was just trying his luck after having a drink. If he happened to be able to call other polar ships, usually everyone would change voyage a little and go for a short period of time, staying close enough to each other to talk over the radio for an hour or two.

“Oh! I can’t find anyone to chat with tonight!” The captain sighed, “Then I’ll go to the casino to try my luck, Mr. Chief Officer, this ship will e handed over to you temporarily!”

He staggered out, completely unaware that the first mate entrusted with the task was drunk and had been lying on the steering wheel for half an hour.

The casino on board was magnificent. The warm air was wrapped in the rich smell of whiskey and high-end perfume. The Belarusian girl, standing 5′9″ and wearing high heels acted as the dealer. A waiter who can speak various languages enthusiastically advised the guests to experience the richness of Tibetan wine and hand-rolled cigars from Cuba. A source of enormous wealth has created a small Las Vegas in this lifeless dead-end space.

The YAMAL was originally planned to be used as a scientific research ship, and it assumed the strategic goal of the former Soviet Union to head towards the North Pole. However, after the disintegration of the Soviet Union, this strategic goal also fell into disuse. The hugely-built ship could not be left idle and was put to civilian use, transformed into a luxury gambling ship, cruising on the Arctic Ocean all year round.

The Arctic Ocean is the high seas, you can’t help but gamble. Plus, you can enjoy the polar scenery on the way. So even if the tickets are expensive, the ones for this “Christmas Journey” are sold out.

There are eleven floors on this ship. Six floors have been transformed into luxurious cabins. At the moment, these cabins are full of 1,200 tourists, plus a crew of almost 1,000 people and service personnel. This ship can be said to be a small city floating on the Arctic Ocean.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please look out from the porthole on the left. You will see a medium sized iceberg with a height of more than 25 meters. Anyone who knows ice bergs must know that only 1/10 of the volume of an iceberg will surface. The underwater part occupies 9/10. This means that the height of the entire iceberg is almost 250 meters, of which more than 200 re below the sea surface.”

The navigator’s voice echoed in the hall. “That ice berg is the giant remains of the ice sheet, and feel off the arctic Ice cap 32 years ago and is always floating in the nearby sea. In summer, it will move further north, and it winter, it will be close to the edge of the Arctic Circle. The crew affectionately calls it the “Mary Girl” but as you can see, after 32 years of melting, the once hugeg “mary Girl” has only 250 feet of ice left. This year maybe the last time that Mary Girl will accompany us on our ice sea journey. Goodbye, Mary Girl, we will miss you.”

The wall-like ice cliffs slid past the hull of the cliffs, showing a dazzling blue color The white water fowl stood on top of the Mary Girl, staring blankly at the red behemoth driving by. After that, it floats far away.

Few tourists actually went to see the last side of the Mary Girl. Sexy Belarusian girls, hot gambling games, and mellow wine, kept their eyes on the gaming table.

The captain woke up a bit from the wine, pace to the porthole, looked out and let out a faint puff of smoke.

“Is it like seeing off an old friend?” A very young voice spoke next to him, but it was low with an iceberg-like feel.

The captain raised his head and was surprised to find that there was a young man in a black suit standing beside him, with black hair and an extremely clear face, carrying an elegant suitcase in his hand and a long black bag on his shoulders. He should be Chinese, but his accent is standard American English. The captain had been standing by the porthole for five minutes but didn’t notice when the young man approached him.

“It is, isn’t it? Always sailing in such lonely waters, we give each iconic iceberg a girl’s name in our hearts. Mary is like a bright girl in white, waiting for us in this sea forever. Seeing her, we don’t need to look at the theodolite to know which area of the sea we’re sailing in.” The captain emotionally explained. “So what’s your name?”

“Chu. Chu Zihang.”

“is there anything I can do for you? Mr. Chu.”

“I want to see the captain.”

“Then you are looking for the right person!” The captain smiled and straightened his captain’s hat. “The name’s Sasha Rebarko, Captain of the Yamal. Ready to serve you!”

“No. I don’t want to se you. I want to see the real captain.” Chu Zihang said lightly.

The captain was stunned, a sharp light flashing in his pupils. But it was fleeting.

“How can there be two captains on a ship?” He shrugged. “Only when I am sick and unable to perform the duties of captain will the chief officer take over. As as you can see, I’m as strong as an ox!”

“Your real name is not Sasha Rebarko, but Alexander Rebarko. You were a major of the Alpha Special Forces of the Russian Federal  Security Service. After retiring in 2001, you were hired by the real captain. The ship’s technology is actually very rudimentary. This ship is usually managed by the chief mate, but you are a proficient marksman, skilled in unarmed combat, and practiced in using almost all military equipment. So You’re responsible for the security of the ship.”

“You have been married once, now divorced. Your parents live in St. Petersburg. You have a 16-year old sister.” Chu Zihang’s one was steady like this big ship, but the captain’s heartbeat was as steep and tortuous as the icebergs outside.

He subconsciously bent his knees slightly and leaned forward and his hands drew into his sleeves. This was an attempt to grasp the dagger hidden inside, but he felt empty.

This kind of “muscle memory” came from being trained to be very skillful with a knife. Major Alexaner Rebarko, when he was wearing the Alpha Force uniform, he would have had a dagger in his sleeve at all times.

But he hasn’t used the name Alexander in more than ten years. In order to sever his relationship with the past, he took great pains to change. He changed his address, phone number, broke off contacts with old friends and hired hackers to break into Alpha Forces serves to delete all his files. He performed a bit of facial surgery... Since then it was like Alpha Elite Major Alexander Rebarko had never existed in this world and was replaced by senior captain Sasha Rebarko.

Now the past buried by his own hands has been completely restored in the cold and plain narration of this young man, as if he were some sort of guardian angel that had seen his whole like with his own eyes.

Anyone, as long as he has existed in this world, will always leave countless marks, which can not be easily modified.” Chu Zihang finally said. “As long as the Cassell Academy is interested in anyone, they can always be investigated and found out.”

The people around them flowed like water around rocks.

After a long silence, Sasha’s body relaxed from being tight as a bow. He looked at Chu Zihang again. “Cassell Academy?”

Of course, they can’t really use force in such a public space. The offensive posture was just Sasha’s stress response.

Chu Zihang flipped the collar of his suit and showed Sasha the silver coat of arms pinned inside it. On the coat of arms was a huge tree with lush branches on one half and completely withered on the other half.

“I’ve never heard of it, and never seen that emblem.” Sasha shook his head.

“I think the captain may recognize this emblem. I’m referring to the real captain.”

“What do you want?”

“I just want to meet the captain. I know there is a hidden rule on this boat. The person who gambles the most is eligible to go up to see the captain.” Chu Zihang raised the suitcase in his hands. “I prepared funds before I arrived here.”

Sahsa glanced at the sturdy suitcase. The suitcase seemed to be right. High gamblers liked to carry such suitcases, full of two million dollars in cash. Two million dollars is not a lot. Some gamblers have subordinates to help carry a dozen or so cash boxes in and out. But if he just wants to meet the captain, two million should be fine.

“Okay,” Sasha shrugged. “It’s okay to take you to the captain, but I must first wish you good luck.”

“Wish me luck?”

The captain doesn’t like to see outsiders very much. If he sees an outsider and doesn’t like him, that guy will be brainwashed. Brainwashed people end up a little messed up if it doesn’t go right.” Sasha said. “I don’t want you to be so unlucky.”

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @Froggydarren!

To Jen: Merry Christmas!  In this story I hope you find a few of your favorite things.  May your holidays be filled with love and joy, great food, relaxation, and GREAT FIC!  

Title: stepping out of body

Rating: T

Word Count: 7K

Tags: Hypothermia, Hurt/comfort, Bed sharing, Accidental baby acquisition, alternate reality, parallel universe, dreams, hallucinations, Hobrien, Tyler Hoechlin/Dylan O’Brien, swearing, sexual innuendo, kissing  

Read on AO3

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steppin out of body

Stiles is ninety-seven percent sure he’s going to die out here.

The violent shivers and chattering teeth ceased ten minutes ago, and not even the line of Derek’s werewolf heat down his right side makes any difference. It turns out the discount boots he bought last year from Bob’s Bargain Bin aren’t such a bargain; frigid water seeps through the seams, turning his toes to ice, to fire. He wiggles them regularly as they trudge through the thickening carpet of heavy snow, fearing the numbness he could easily succumb to.

Stiles isn’t stupid. He can decipher the messages his very-human body broadcasts loud and clear.

“No,” Derek commands, slapping at his cheek with a gloved hand, the impact dull and muted against his frozen skin. “Eyes open, Stiles. Stay with me. Stay with…”

Damn the Nemeton, screaming out to every worthless supernatural pain-in-Stiles’-ass. This time it called down a Chenoo, a man-eating ice giant from the Great White North. The demon slid down the west coast like an avalanche, bashing through the border, ushering in plummeting temperatures, a torrent of wind-driven snow and sleet slashing Stiles’ face like werewolf claws.  Vicious gusts of icy wind followed, slithering inside Stiles’ thin jacket to coil around his heart and crush his lungs. Stiles would have preferred it brought Kraft dinner and Molson Canadian, like a typical tourist.

A California boy born and bred, his genetic makeup lacks an adoration of arctic temperatures. He’s ill-equipped for a blizzard in November.

Even Derek’s nose glows Rudolph-red from the chill.

“You can kill a Cheeno by melting its heart with salt,” Deaton supplied earlier that afternoon, “but a few legends claim you can save the man within the monster.”

“Save a cannibal? Yeah, fuck that noise,” Stiles had said, tossing down the magazine he’d been reading and grabbing the cannister of Morton’s Iodized, slipping his feet into his crappy boots. It seemed like a good idea at the time, he and Derek against the latest monster of the week. Nothing new. But now a blanket of white makes it impossible to see ten feet in front of them, flakes floating down from the sky like errant feathers, dancing in front of his eyes like a whirl of stars. It blinds him, envelopes him. Every minute lasts an hour.

He should have taken the FBI assignment offered when he attended the academy. Memphis. It didn’t snow in Memphis. Why hadn’t he taken it? Oh yeah. Scott. His father. Derek.

The sun dips below the horizon, adding insult to injury.

Stiles can’t feel his nose anymore, or his toes. He inhales broken glass with each breath. The longer he stares into the white void, the more everything starts to feel peaceful and pointless. Stiles closes his eyes.

“Do you hear that?” Derek hisses. Stiles’ eyes snap open in time to see the breath billowing out of Derek’s windburned lips in rolling clouds of steam. “It sounds like…”

Stiles hears the violent wind rattling dry, bare branches of winter-dead trees, and the random song playing on repeat in his head. Going down with my wings on fire, guess I’ll see you in another life. He prays that in a few years, in a decidedly less stark and frozen landscape, the lyrics will blast through Roscoe’s shitty speakers, and Stiles will stop and listen, say “ah yes, that time I almost froze to death,” just another moment unfolding in the supernatural shitstorm of his life, and not the soundtrack to the end of it.

But Derek cocks his head, eyes narrowed into slits, frost clinging to his bushy black eyebrows, so Stiles tugs up the ear flaps on his hat, strains to hear past the snow’s white noise, so like a chorus of howling werewolves. Yowling, squalling, wailing…

“A baby,” Stiles gasps, voice rasping through blue-tinged lips, knees threatening to buckle in shock. Who would ever bring a baby out in this storm? He was tired, drained, and dispirited before, and now, a thin film of desperation stretches over it all like saran wrap. “I hear a baby crying.”

Derek pulls Stiles impossibly closer, abruptly turning them to the left and floundering through calf-deep snow mounds and crushing darkness. Derek blunders toward the cries with steps as uncoordinated as a newborn foal, his confident gait lost to the storm. Stiles grits his teeth and slogs on.

Mother nature pummels him into a Popsicle.

“Oh,” Stiles says some indeterminable time later, “I see something.” Up ahead, a small cabin materializes, rising from the bleak isolation like a desert mirage, windows alight with a dim glow. Every blink of his heavy eyelids brings the cabin into better focus; green tin roof, stainless steel chimney pipe puffing out grey clouds of smoke, two rickety steps leading up to a narrow porch laid with red cedar planks.  

Derek takes Stiles under the armpits and hauls him up over his left shoulder, heading toward shelter with Stiles bouncing clumsily into Derek’s back with each step. He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, going statue-still.

“Wha?” Stiles mumbles toward Derek’s ass.  

A moment of hesitation. “I only hear one heartbeat.”

The desperate mewling raises in pitch. “Derek, can we please go inside? If the damn Cheeno has somehow lured us here, at least I’ll be warm when I die.”

Derek drags them both through the front door, leaving a track of icy puddles and slushy clumps of snow as they stumble over the threshold. Stiles finds himself dumped unceremoniously onto an oriental rug in front of a slowly dying fire. “Get your clothes off!” Derek barks at him as he kneels in front of the weak flames, pulling off his gloves and reaching for the stack of wood next to the stone fireplace.

Stiles always wanted to hear Derek say those words, and he’s honestly a little pissed they’re wasted on a life-or-death situation.  

Stiles isn’t capable of finesse on his best days, but his numb fingers fumble pathetically at the snaps and zippers of his clothes. Each new piece of blue and purple dappled bare skin he uncovers sets alarm bells peeling inside his skull. “Wh-wh-where is the b-b-baby?” The chattering teeth return, his neck swollen and stiff as he turns it this way and that until his gaze lands on a bassinet in the corner.

“Fire first, then I’ll get the baby,” Derek says, blowing on the growing blaze. “Take everything off. All your wet clothes.” He closes the wire mesh curtain across the hearth and stands, shedding his own clothes piece by piece as he crosses the small living space. Derek blows warm breath into his cupped hands before he reaches into the bassinet, pulling out a wiggling red blanket and clutching it gently to his bare chest. It’s a sight to behold, but Stiles can barely keep his eyes open.

Unable to stand, Stiles reaches for the corner of a quilt thrown haphazardly over a worn plaid couch, dragging it down and pulling it across the floor. Derek keeps the baby in one strong arm and hoists Stiles’ limp body onto the quilt with the other, settling down next to him on the carpet.

“Come here,” Derek says, reclining with one arm around Stiles’ shoulders, maneuvering him, so Stiles’ backside faces the fire, and Derek’s werewolf body heat blazing down Stiles’ front, the baby a warm weight on Derek’s ribs.

“The parents?” Stiles slurs, imagining the bloodbath that will ensue when an unsuspecting mother and father find two butt-naked grown men cuddling their kid.

“I can’t detect any other scents. It’s just us.”

“Hmmm.” The heat of the fire and the safety of Derek’s body make Stiles’ eyelids very heavy.

“Don’t go, Stiles,” Derek orders. “Stay with me. Please.”  For a brief moment, a white halo frames Derek’s beautiful face.  He cups Stiles’ jaw, and Stiles could swear his fingers feel like scratchy wool mittens.

“I’m always with you, dumbass,” Stiles replies and promptly falls asleep.  

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Stiles wakes with the luxurious Saturday morning feeling of having slept in with no alarm, despite early dawn light seeping into the room through sheer curtains, casting everything in soft dream-like shades of gray. He’s so warm and content he buries his face back into the plush pillow under his head, determined to retreat once again into sweet oblivion.

“You know I adore your mom, but she was wrong about this co-sleeping thing. Best decision we ever made,” murmurs a tender voice behind him. The words get emphasized with some semblance of a kiss, all hot, soft lips and tongue leaving goosebumps in their wake as they travel lazily down the back of Stiles’ neck. The easy-going morning disperses like mist as Stiles blinks open his eyes to see the tiny, angelic face of a baby–presumably the same one from the cabin–wrapped in a thin red muslin blanket and sleeping next to him. It lies in a strange contraption attached to the bed with three breathable mesh sides, atop a fitted sheet adorned with fluffy dancing sheep wearing nightcaps. As Stiles watches, the baby’s tiny bow mouth makes adorable little sucking motions.

Wait a minute.

Stiles knows he’s in trouble when the baby makes sense, but the king-sized bed he’s woken up in doesn’t.    

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Stiles has run with wolves since age sixteen and can keep a tight lid on a furiously beating heart. “Pretty sure this place did not look like this last night,” he says, words falling from his mouth in a smooth line as his stomach ties itself in knots.

A huffed laugh. “I’ll do the laundry today, I promise. Who knew a baby could go through so many clothes?”

Not me, Stiles thinks, sitting up in bed and kicking away a blue sheet. He’s wearing unfamiliar light-gray sweatpants and a maroon t-shirt. The man next to him grunts at the loss of body heat, and Stiles glances over. Yup, it’s Derek, black hair sticking up every which way like he stuck his head in a blender.  

Stiles crawls to the foot of the bed, tip-toes to the sliding glass doors leading to a balcony, and parts the curtains an inch. Pre-dawn light paints the curving facade of the U.S. Bank Tower mellow orange. Stiles has only ever seen it in movies. Free from alien encounters and earthquake damage, the staggering architecture looks like a staircase up into the pink morning clouds. He puts his hand up to the cold glass. “We’re in L.A.”

Another grunt behind him. Stiles’ head pivots back and forth between the skyline and the majestic view of Derek sprawled on his stomach, broad shoulders tapering down a smooth, naked back. He follows the line of Derek’s spine to his boxer-brief clad backside on full display. The cotton clings to every dip and curve of Derek’s perfect ass.  

“How did we get to L.A.?”

Derek’s head rises from the pillow. “Huh? Come back to bed before you wake Conor.”

“Yeah, that’s another thing.” He scrubs a hand down his face, huffs out a breath. “The bed. That wasn’t here before. Or the fancy baby crib, or your underwear, or the god-damn city of Los Angeles.”

Derek twists, sitting up in bed and rubbing crust from his eyes. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks. Then he does something so crazy Stiles thinks he just may have died out in the snow.

Derek smiles.

Not just any smile. Stiles’ has seen Derek produce some mean ones, some faux-flirtatious ones, some blood-thirsty ones, but he’s never seen one like this: huge, happy, full of white teeth. It lights up Derek’s whole face, makes his green eyes go adorably squinty.  

“No, nope, uh uh.” Stiles tries to take a step back, but his shoulders collide with the slider. What imposter wears Derek’s flawless butt and happy face? Stiles has a mini heart attack.

“Who are you?”

Now the smile falls away, leaving behind comically-wide green eyes and an arched brow. His Derek would never show this level of befuddlement. He’d school his face into an impossibly hard mask.

“Dylan,” he answers, very slowly, “I’m your husband.”

———-

Imposter-Derek’s name is Tyler, and he remains unfailingly patient and positive in the face of his husband’s epic freak out and insistence that a mythological creature in an alternative universe cursed him.  ”I should have paid more attention to Deaton when he talked about annihilating the Chenoo, but there was a fascinating article in Entertainment Weekly.”

“This better not be a ploy to get out of diaper duty,” Derek-Tyler says with a smile.  Honestly, the guy’s demeanor baffles Stiles. This level of sweetness doesn’t exist outside a candy store.  

Baby Conor wakes up with a chortling wail, demanding food and a clean butt, which Tyler supplies as Stiles does a convincing imitation of a lost puppy and follows him around.  “You’re good at this whole thing. At parenthood,” Stiles praises. The sight of Derek–or a Derek look-a-like–gently cradling a tiny infant in his massive beefcake arms, holding a warm bottle of formula in his meaty fist, makes Stiles want to swoon.  Even the greedy pig-like noises Conor makes causes a strange effervescent bubbling behind Stiles’ ribs. What in the world is happening to him? Gas? Or did he show up in this parallel universe with a uterus and a biological clock? He pulls the waistband of his sweatpants away from his torso.  Well, at least the equipment on the outside remains the same.

Stiles and Tyler get dressed, and migrate into the kitchen through a narrow hallway and spacious living room; walls painted the color of buttery suede. Books and baby toys litter the floor, framed family photographs, and baseball paraphernalia hanging on nearly every wall of their home.  Upon closer inspection, Stiles finds one of the pictures is of Tyler in a Sacramento River Cats uniform, mid-run, right arm slung back, ready to throw.  

“Dude, do you play professional ball?” Stiles asks, impressed, fingertips tracing the edges of the black wooden frame.

Tyler blushes, becomingly, one muscular arm cuddling the baby closer to his broad chest.  “Yeah. I played baseball in college and got drafted, but I injured my hamstring a few years ago. I doubt I’ll ever get called up to the major leagues. Want some water?  Juice?”

The seamless transition of conversation, the quick, subtle deflection onto Stiles and away from himself is such a Derek move it leaves Stiles dizzy, struggling for balance as he straddles two worlds.

“Water,” Stiles croaks.

Tyler opens the refrigerator, reaches for the Brita with his free hand, and at least twenty glass bottles stacked on the door shelves clink together like Christmas bells. “Uh, why do we own so much root beer?”

Tyler shrugs.  “You’re a big root beer guy.”

Huh.  Stiles can’t remember the last time he had root beer, but his mother adored root beer floats “Actually, I’ll take one of those.”  

At the kitchen table, Tyler leaned his chin into his hand, gazing at Stiles while he sips his carbonated sugar. A shaft of late-morning light catches the fizzing bubbles surging up the neck of the bottle, sending little sun sparks dancing across the wood between them.

“I don’t know how you can remain so calm in the face of all this,” Stiles says for the millionth time in the few short hours they’ve been awake.  “Does your husband typically try to convince you that he’s someone else?”

Tyler props Conor on his shoulder, gently rubbing and patting his back. “Only when we role-play.”

Root beer sprays from Stiles’ mouth in an inelegant arc, splattering all over the tabletop.  Fantastic, now his overactive brain supplies him with enough jerk-off material to last a century.  It’s just his luck to land in a universe where Derek smiles and laughs and is kinky to boot.

“But seriously, Dylan, we’ve been through worse than a little memory lapse.”  Stiles lays his head down on the wet surface, resolutely refusing to ask. He doesn’t want to know.  Knowing would mean caring. “Though I do wish you’d reconsider going to the hospital. They could run some tests and-”

Stiles holds up a hand.  “No. No tests. At least, not today.  If we wake up tomorrow and nothing has changed, then yes, I promise I’ll go to the doctor. Just…” He remembers having an MRI, the fear and panic before rolling into the claustrophobic tube, the loud clunks and bangs, of what bad news the results will bring.  Because it’s doubtful skipping universes like a pebble on a lake produces anything positive. “Not today.”

Tyler nods.  “Okay. I have an idea.  Here, hold Conor.” He passes Stiles the baby and walks into the living room, opening the doors on a TV stand and pulling out an old DVD player.  Stiles watches as he fiddles around behind the flat-screen television, plugging it in and powering it up. “I’m going to grab our wedding DVD,” Tyler says, heading toward the bedroom.

Stiles is left alone with Conor for the first time.  “Hi, little man,” Stiles whispers into the crook of the baby’s warm neck.  He smells sweet and powdery, and the unique scent kind of makes Stiles feel high.  He’s adorable and small, and fragile, and now that Stiles thinks about it for half a second, completely panic-inducing.  Who in their right mind would leave Stiles in charge of a baby?! He breaks everything. Hopefully, this Dylan guy is a bit less accident-prone than Stiles.

Tyler pops in the video, and they lay the baby on a blanket in the living room with a few toys, and Stiles gets to watch two hours of footage of himself marrying Derek.

Half-way through the reception Erica and Boyd waltz by, and Stiles sees Isaac in profile, standing at the bar laughing at something Jackson says. He desperately wants to ask, but doesn’t think he could handle it if these pack members, lost to lies and danger and that merciless bitch the Grim Reaper, are just phantom faces with different names.

“That was sweet and kind of funny,” Stiles says after listening to himself recite his vows.

“Yeah,” Tyler agrees.  “You’re pretty amazing.”

Is this who Derek would be if there’d been no Kate? No Jennifer?  No Paige? Seriously, it’s like a case of the body snatchers. Fuck Stiles’ life (but not this one! This one’s pretty perfect).

“Did it jog any memories?” Tyler asks when the TV goes black.  

Stiles hates letting down someone so earnest.  “Sorry, man.”

“It’s all right.” Tyler squeezes one of Stiles’ shoulders in a firm grip.  “I have one more idea if it’s okay with you. Then we can give it a rest until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay.  But first, do you mind if I shower?”  A phantom layer of dried sweat from his trek through the snow yesterday still sticks to Stiles’ skin.  

Dylan and Tyler’s shower has soapstone walls, duel jets, a rain massage showerhead, recessed lighting, and a cedar plank ceiling.  If he ever gets home, he’s convincing Derek to build a replica of this shower, and let Stiles use it any time he wants. Derek’s trust fund should go to something other than tight pants and dark colored shirts. Something that benefits Stiles directly (since the clothes benefit his eyeballs indirectly).

After he’s dressed, Stiles leans against the sink, wiping the fog from the mirror with the corner of his damp towel. He studies his reflection—same number of moles on his cheeks, same wide amber eyes.  Fingertips poke at his cheeks, eyebrows, forehead. A hand rubs between his eyes. Why do you get to keep him in this universe, but not your own? his reflection asks.

Hushed voices filter in from the living room, and he sneaks a peek around the door jamb. A pretty middle-aged woman stands by the front door, shooting a frown at Tyler, her head tilted.  “What do you think it is?” She asks, shrugging out of her cardigan sweater and draping it over the oversized recliner. “Stress? PTSD?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler replies.  Wait, PTSD over what?  “If the memory loss persists, we’ll go to the doctor tomorrow.  I thought maybe seeing you would help him.”

Stiles steps into the living room, capturing their attention.  The woman isn’t familiar, he’s never seen her in his life, but he knows her face the minute she looks at him.  Stiles’ father has filled his life with love, but there’s no substitute for a mother. And that’s who this woman is, his mother.  No one’s looked at Siles this way since he was eight years old. A razor edge of pain cuts into his heart.

His eyesight blurs, and red, blotchy heat creeps up his cheeks. Stiles swipes a thumb under one eye and tries to make it look like he’s scratching his cheek.

“Oh, Dylan, sweetheart,” she says.  “I’m your mom, Lisa.”

—————

Halfway through Lisa filling him in on Dylan’s early life growing up in New Jersey, their move to California when he was twelve, and his stint in a band, Stiles’ stomach lets out a growl loud enough to rival a werewolf.  

“We haven’t eaten anything all day,” Tyler says. “Root beer doesn’t count.”

“Why don’t you both go out for dinner,” Lisa offers.  “I’ll watch Conor.” She makes kissy faces at their son, who yanks at her brown hair, and warmth swells in Stiles’ chest.  He’s missed being part of a family, and this one sits gift-wrapped like a present just for him.

They walk outside, shoulders bumping. “We could drive into downtown,” Tyler offers, “but the traffic will be terrible, even at this time.”

Stiles shoves his hands into the pockets of his borrowed jeans, scoping out the view of the city skyline in the distance. “Whatever, dude. I’m game for somewhere local.”

Tyler eyes him, weighing the options, then graces him with another one of those megawatt smiles. “I think this day calls for The Coop.”

Stiles finds himself at a hole-in-the-wall, family-run pizzeria, scarfing down the best-tasting pizza ever. They split a large pie, ordered off a red menu adorned in green and white writing that makes Stiles think of Christmas.

Tyler wipes the grease off his lips with a paper napkin and leans back, resting his elbows on his chair arms. “You love eating here,” he tells Stiles. “We don’t often come here because I’m usually trying to stay in decent shape for baseball, but when we get here, we always order the works, hold the pineapple. You’re known to demolish an entire pie by yourself.”

At least this Dylan guy has good taste in pizza.  Slow roasted tomato sauce and melted cheese punched him in the nose as soon as he walked in.  

Stiles throws down his napkin, a white flag signaling his defeat to the single slice left on the pizza pan. He picks up the red plastic cup half-filled with root beer–turns out this stuff is pretty addicting– and gnaws on the cardboard straw between sips. “So, how’d we meet? Did I accidentally traipse across your yard, and you tell me I was trespassing?”

Tyler blinks. “That’s weirdly specific.” He picks up his beer bottle, takes a swig. “No. You’re a sports broadcaster, and you came to one of my games to interview me.”

“Love at first sight?” Stiles inquiries, tongue chasing his straw across his lips.

Tyler raises a brow, gesture a mirror-image of Stiles’ Derek. “That’s very distracting. Who taught you to use a straw?”

Stiles places the cup back down on the lacquered tabletop. “Sorry. D-” he pauses. “My friend back home complains about that too.”

“This friend who looks suspiciously like me?”

“Yeah. Him.”

Tyler laughs. “I’m sure he finds it distracting, too. Give the poor guy a break.”

“Anyway…” Stiles doubts he’s ever the person to steer a conversation back on track, but today is a day of firsts. First time I woke up in bed with Derek.  There’s more, but his brain keeps getting stuck on that one. “Was it love at first sight for you and your husband?”

Tyler’s eyes go soft, unfocused. “We clicked right away, but no. Every date we went on just got better and better until we eventually moved in together.”

“When did you know he was the one?” Stiles asks, trying to imagine a world where he and Derek didn’t immediately clash like oil and water.

Tyler’s cheeks bloom apple-red. Oh, there’s a story here, and I want it.  “I knew the first Christmas we spent together when I watched you hump an artificial tree. I said to myself, ‘Tyler, you’ve gotta keep this one.’”

Laughter bursts out of Stiles’ mouth. “Please,” he wheezes, “tell me more.”

Tyler does.  

“How’d we end up an old married couple with a kid?” Stiles asks as they push through the doors of the restaurant, spilling out onto the warm pavement. Stiles thinks of the freezing temperatures of the blizzard he trudged through with Derek the day prior and shivers despite the sun’s heat.

Here Tyler hesitates, shoulders pulling high and back, spine lengthening. It’s Derek’s ’going into battle’ pose. Stiles has seen it enough times to know it by heart, his own body reacting on instinct, stepping closer to Tyler, creating a united front.  

“We were going along great,” Tyler says, “having a good time. We both figured we’d get married, eventually. Our careers kept us busy; we didn’t rush into things. But one day, I’m in Sacramento, practicing at Raley Field, and my manager calls me off second base to tell me I’ve got to get home; you’d been in an accident.”

“What kind of accident?” Stiles asks. Just as disaster-prone, I see.

Tyler’s hands clench at his sides. “A car hit you at work.”

“Huh,” Stiles says, stupidly. I’m usually the one running over people.

“You had a terrible concussion, the doctors worried about brain damage, and pretty much the entire right side of your face needed reconstructive surgery.”

“Jeez.” Stiles presses fingertips to his right cheekbone. “I can’t imagine your terror.” Derek’s reactions every time Stiles gets hurt is bad enough; he can’t imagine what Tyler must have gone through watching the man he loves lay injured in a hospital bed.

“All of a sudden, things didn’t seem so carefree. The thought of losing you was-” Tyler stops, takes a deep breath. Before he registers the movement, Stiles grabs Tyler’s hand, entwining their fingers and squeezing reassuringly. Tyler smiles shyly, presses back, and air stalls in Stiles’ lungs. Quicksand paves the road they’re walking down; the more Stiles flails around in memories of a life that isn’t his own, the deeper he sinks.

“We got married a year later after you’d recovered from surgery. We know we’re lucky to have this nearly stolen life, and we wanted to share that with someone. Now, we have Conor.”

Tyler stops walking, turns to face Stiles—to face Dylan. “It took us a long time to get here.” He pulls Stiles into a tight hug, and Stiles willingly goes, lets himself get wrapped up in arms he never thought he’d feel around him. “But we got here.”

———-

They dismiss Lisa with a round of hugs and promises to call in the morning if nothing has changed. Conor gets a bath in a tub they place in the ample kitchen sink, gurgling happily over the plastic bath toys Stiles flies around his bald head while Tyler scrubs him down. “My mom used to wash the Thanksgiving turkey in the sink,” Stiles tells them.

“Are you comparing our son to overstuffed poultry?” Tyler honest-to-god giggles. Did Derek ever giggle? Could Stiles help him find that much joy?

Stiles pokes at one of Conor’s adorably chubby legs, earning a gummy smile. “The resemblance is striking.”

Tyler does the bedtime routine, and they eat a quiet, amicable dinner of grilled chicken and baked potatoes at the kitchen table.

“I don’t know about you,” Stiles says around a yawn, “but I’m freaking beat, man. This day has been an emotional rollercoaster.”

“Agreed,’ Tyler replies, rolling his shoulders. “Sleep?”

“Totally.”

“I can take the couch?” Tyler offers when they walk into the darkened bedroom. Stiles eyes the bed between them, bathed in the milk-light of the moon streaming through the curtains. Conor is a tiny lump in his bassinet, soft snores echoing around the room.

Stiles shakes his head. “No. It’s totally fine. Married people sleep in the same bed.”

Tyler smiles, shoulders dropping from where they’d migrated to his ears. Stiles has stared at that smile all day, but he’s still not immune. It’s a flash of lightning, bright and dazzling, rolling through him like thunder. He’s shaken. “I’m glad. Honestly, I always sleep better when you’re with me.”

I’m always with you, dumbass.

Stiles can see why. As soon as they slide under the covers—Stiles in the sweatpants and T-shirt ensemble from the morning, and Tyler in his boxer-briefs and nothing else—Tyler cuddles up next to him, sighing deeply. He’s a comforting line of heat and weight, and Stiles turns toward him, instinctually. Tyler’s already drifting off, blinking sleepy half-lidded eyes at him.

“Goodnight,” Stiles whispers.

“Mmm, goodnight,” Tyler replies. He leans forward, rubs the tip of his nose against Stiles’, and brushes his mouth against Stiles’ lips, tongue lazily surging, tasting like mint, fresh and sharp. Is this wrong? It doesn’t feel wrong. It feels right. Tyler threads his fingers into Stiles’ hair, pulling him closer, cradling the back of his head like he’s something precious, beloved. Large, strong hands skim across Stiles’ skull, cup his face, thumbs brushing featherlight over his cheekbones. Stiles hums contentedly into the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Tyler slurs, pulling away just far enough to look into Stiles’ eyes. “I know you don’t remember, and I-”

“Tyler, kiss me again.” The next few moments simmer between them, threatening to boil over, but they dial back the heat, let it cool until their foreheads pressed together, lips and noses gently rubbing.

Stiles closes his eyes and lets himself believe that Derek Hale, the king of drawing lines in the sand and chasing Stiles back to the other side, cards long, gentle fingers through Stiles’ hair as he falls asleep. Stiles could get used to this; he wants this. And because Stiles lies to himself on the daily, he refuses to acknowledge that he has desired this for as long as he can remember knowing Derek.  

Would it be so wrong to stay here and keep this life? It’s a luxury he hasn’t dared to allow himself to ponder since he woke up in this alternate reality.

Conor lets out a couple of guttural, cranky sounds. Tyler grumbles and starts to stir, jerky, half-asleep movements, “Shh,” Stiles says, running a long-fingered hand down Tyler’s back. “I’ve got this. You sleep.”

He carries Conor—his son—to the changing pad atop their dresser, and flicks on the lamp. It casts the little corner of their world in a soft golden glow. “We got this, buddy,” he tells Conor in a sing-song voice. “I’ll be a diaper changing expert in no time.” Conor blows spit bubbles at him. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Stiles answers. “We’re both doomed.”

Changing diapers is a little more involved than Stiles realized, and he ends up with baby pee all over his shirt and Conor’s onesie. He divests Conor of his wet suit and takes a moment to plant a few raspberries against the soft soles of the baby’s feet, earning delighted squeals and flailing limbs. “This little piggy went to the market, and this little piggy stayed home,” Stiles recites, wiggling Conor’s tiny toes. “This little piggy ate roast beef, and this little piggy had none. And this little p—”

Stiles rubs his eyes frantically, blinks hard a few times. Counts. Counts again. One, two, three, four, five…

Six.

He studies the other foot. Six toes. Heart in his throat, he takes Conor’s grasping little hands in his and counts. No, no, no. Six fingers on each side.

How do you tell if you’re awake or dreaming?

Your fingers. You count your fingers. “You have extra fingers in dreams,” Stiles tells Conor, and then he wakes up.

❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄❅❄

Stiles wakes in a panicky stupor, faces of nurses, doctors, and the Sheriff, who looks like he’s aged ten years, staring down at him, blurring together like paint on a canvas.

He flings out one hundred-pound arm, reaching for his child, for Tyler, for a world where his pack is alive and well and happy.  I’ve only had the perfect life for a day and a half, but if anything happened to it I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself. A giggle hiccups out of his dry throat.

“…nerve damage…dead tissue,” the surgeon explains, but some morphine-derivative courses through his system and he listens to it all from the deep end of a warm tunnel. “The bad news is, you lost the one toe to frostbite, but I saved the others. And the loss of a pinky toe doesn’t impede balance at all.”

Stiles nods. The conversation hangs around him like a dense fog. “That sucks,” he croaks out, words lengthening as the drugs pull his tongue like taffy. “But…where is my husband?”

Behind the doctor, two nurses exchange glances, eyes wide over their surgical masks. His father shakes his head back and forth. “Stiles… you’re not married.”

”I am, ” he insists.  ”And my baby. I have a baby.”

“Completely normal,” the doctor consoles. “Nothing to worry about. Some patients experience hallucinations and dreams as the anesthesia wears off.”

Oh yeah. Conor’s happy squeals, Tyler’s glorious smile, having a mom again. None of it was real.

“Recovery time typically takes between two and six weeks. You’ll have to keep the incision clean diligently and the stitches covered, but before you know it, you’ll walk again,” the doctor tells him. “You’ll run.”

Laughter gallops up his throat like a wild horse. He’s shaking again as he did in the snow, bones rattling and teeth clicking audibly together even as he desperately tries to clench his jaw and keep them still.

I’ve been running since I was sixteen. I don’t want to run anymore.

His father plucks a Kleenex from the box on his hospital tray, hands it to him. The thin tissue is sandpaper between Stiles’ raw fingertips. “Wh-why are you g-giving me this?” Stiles asks between gasps of air.

“Son,” his father says softly, “you’re crying.”

———-

His hospital room smells like a funeral parlor. Lily of the valley, morning glory, and peony. Scott charges in the moment Stiles can receive visitors outside the pathetic roster of family members, carrying a vase of blue dicks. “Get it?! Because you had hypothermia! You were freezing your-”

“Yeah, buddy. I get it.”

Get Well Soon the generic message on the flower card commands, but the problem is, Stiles isn’t sick. He’s grieving. But how can I mourn a life I never had?

By lunchtime, the snow stops, the sun shines, and Derek saunters into his hospital room as if he owns it. He looks stoically handsome in his black leather jacket and signature scowl, calm and composed, and smells like fresh air. Stiles’ emotional state soars dangerously from elation to despair, settling somewhere in the realm of weary acceptance.  

“They obliterated my toe,” Stiles tells Derek when he approaches the bedside, pulling back the sheet to reveal his foot wrapped up in a mountain of gauze.

“I know,” Derek replies, pulling up a folding chair and falling gracefully into it. He props his sneakers up on top of the room’s air-conditioning unit. “I brought you here and stayed until your Dad could come. The doctor said he’d try his best, but…” Derek shrugs. He knows all about good intentions.

“Scott told me you went back out after I got out of surgery, killed the Chenoo.”

Derek grimaces. “I have salt in crevices where salt should never go.”

“I’m ah, I’m sorry I was wea-”

Derek holds up a hand. “Stiles, stop. Never apologize for your humanity.”

But it’s more than physical feebleness.  It’s the mental weakness that settles on Stiles’ shoulders like a villains cloak—stitched with shame, edged in anger, dyed red because he looks damn good in red, and no one can tell him otherwise.

Stiles pulls a flat hospital pillow into his arms, holding it across his chest like armor, curling tighter around it with each word. ”Scott said you know about the hallucinations.”  Might as well get this over with now, when the wound is still fresh enough to heal with a minimal amount of scarring.

”I do, ” Derek replies.  ”Did Scott tell you I stayed the entire time? I only left this morning to kill the Chenoo.”

”He may have mentioned something along that line.” It’s the sole reason Stiles is brave enough to tackle this conversation now.  Dude, Scott had said, Derek stood outside the ICU for hours.  Your dad totally thinks you’re boning him.

“Derek?” Stiles fidgets with the sheet covering his leg. “I need to ask you something.”

Gold-flecked green eyes bore into him. Lacking Tyler’s delicate laugh lines, they feel sharper than a knife. “You can ask me anything, Stiles.”

He already grilled his father in every detail, but he needs to hear it from Derek’s mouth. “Did we find shelter from the storm in a cabin in the preserve? Was there a…” He stumbles; Conor’s face flashes before his eyes. “Was there a baby there? A baby boy in a red blanket?”  

Derek’s punctuates his gentle but firm statement with a shake of his head. “No, Stiles. You passed out, and I carried you here.”

“From the preserve? Dude. That’s like… Miles.”

Derek nods. He doesn’t say it, but somehow Stiles can hear the unspoken And I’d do it again because he’d do the same for Derek. Sadness surges like a wave, sudden and powerful, the words pulled from his mouth in the tide. “I dreamt we were a family.”

“We are family, Stiles. Pack is family.”

“No.” Stiles bites his lip. “I imagined it all, made it up in my head, but it felt so damn real. We were a family; you, me, and our son.”

Derek’s feet drop back to the floor, his spine a tautly pulled string. “Okay,” he says. “Tell me more.”

Stiles tells him everything.

“Wait,” Derek says after Stiles finally stops speaking. “This sounds vaguely familiar.” Derek unfolds from the chair and moves toward the hospital room door.  

“It does?” Stiles asks, hope igniting inside his chest. Maybe Derek’s dreamed about this before too.

“Stay right there,” Derek commands, eyebrows furrowed as he walks out of the room.

“Where do you imagine I’m going to go?” Stiles calls. “My foot is—”

“Yeah. I thought it sounded familiar!” Derek declares as he rushes back into the room, waving a magazine in front of Stiles’ face.

“What the heck, man?” Stiles struggles to sit up. “Did the nurses at the desk see you using werewolf speed?”

“Look,” Derek says, ignoring Stiles as usual. “Your surgery took two hours, and your father was scrambling for coverage so he could get over here. I sat in the waiting room, reading every magazine they had. I read this one.” He flips open an Entertainment Weekly and holds it under Stiles’ nose. There’s a handsome, dark-haired man in profile on the cover, looking down at a baby in a red blanket nestled in his arms. Another man flanks the infant; a smiling face turned toward the camera. The cover line reads, Tyler and Dylan may have ended their run on Teen Wolf, but their story is far from over.  

Oh my god, you are such an idiot.

“Oh my god, I am such an idiot!” Stiles squeals, snatching them magazine out of Derek’s hand. No. No, it can’t be. Stiles did not almost die of hypothermia just to imagine he Freaky Friday-ed with a couple of actors.  

“I knew Tyler and Dylan sounded familiar. They’re those actors who got married in real life, the ones on that stupid teenage werewolf soap opera you and Scott loved. And then they—”

“Adopted a baby last month,” Stiles finishes, flipping through the familiar pages. He’d perused the same magazine in Deaton’s clinic while they discussed how best to destroy the Chenoo.

“It makes perfect sense, Stiles,” Derek says, laying a hand down next to him on the bed. “Your brain latched onto the last thing you focused on before we left to hunt the Chenoo. It’s almost like that one episode of the show where Dylan’s character ends up in the Phantom Train Station between dimensions.”

“Hey,” Stiles gives Derek the stink eye. “You swore you never watched the show.”

An overly exaggerated eye roll. “I may have caught a couple of episodes.”  

Stiles’ eyebrows smugly say, I told you so, and Derek’s answer, shut the fuck up, Stiles.

“Which one were you again?” Derek asks. “Which guy?”

Stiles looks at the happy face of the actor. “Dylan.”

“So I was Tyler?” Derek grimaces. “That guy looks like he’s thirty-five.”

“Yeah, but in the best way,” Stiles insists.

He huffs, but Stiles sees the tips of his ears burning bright pink. Derek looks down, rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “You know I’m not him, right?” Derek asks, pointing to the handsome, besotted face on the magazine cover. “I’m not some happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine.”

Stiles tosses the magazine to the window ledge, where it falls between two flower vases. “Yeah, I know,” Stiles softly replies. Butterflies flutter in his stomach; they tingle at the ends of his ten fingers and nine toes. “Doesn’t stop me from loving you, though.”

Derek climbs into Stiles’ hospital bed, presses his face into Stiles’ throat and sighs, warm breath fanning over Stiles’ skin, words vibrating. “The entire trek to the hospital, I was terrified.”  Derek brushes an errant lock of hair from Stiles’ forehead. “Then we got here, and they wrapped you up in this insulation, trying to raise your body temperature. It took hours, and I spent every minute thinking I might never get the chance to tell you…I don’t know for sure what’ll happen; marriage, kids, all of the above, none of the above. But I know I never want to lose you.”

And he remembers Tyler, standing on the busy streets of Los Angeles, looking like a lost little boy when he talked about almost losing his husband.  It’s the same face Derek wears now.

“I’m always with you, dumbass,” Stiles answers.  Why did he think this would be hard? It’s as natural as breathing. “Important question, though.  This might make or break everything, so think hard before you answer. How do you feel about bathroom makeovers?  I have some ideas.”

“I feel strong to very strong about dual shower jets.”

“Dude,” Stiles says.  “There’s a definite possibility we’re soulmates.” And then, Derek smiles. It’s not as big or as bright as Tyler’s, not nearly as all-consuming as his subconscious conjured, but Stiles thinks, with time and love, it will get there.

They’ll get there.

[kmindset]

Monster’s Daughter (2019): Chapters One and Two

Summary: BTS' biggest fan may stir up five-year-old secrets between their leader and someone very familiar. Re- vamp of my 2015 tumblr story.

Word Count: 4k

Type: Angst/Fluff

Full Story (2015)

ao3 (2019)

‘Youtube:

BangtanTV has just uploaded a video’

With a heavy sigh, you called out. “Jooie! New Bangtan video!”

Almost immediately, the sound of little feet padding their way towards the kitchen could be heard. You unlocked your phone to set up the video as she bounded into view. It barely loaded before she was grabbing it with a smile. Her little body happily settled into the couch to enjoy, She stared lovingly at the antics on screen but you stared sadly at her.

Your little girl, your reason for carrying on through the mediocrity of day to day life, Jooie. Korean name Kim Namjoo, American name Grace.

She is the daughter of you and Kim Namjoon. Possibly the biggest BTS fan ever.

The sound of fan chants startled you to attention as she moved on to a live performance. A strong candidate for BTS’ biggest fan yet she doesn’t even know her father is the leader. Almost on queue with this thought, you can hear the distinct voice of your former love. Quickly, you retreat to your room.

“Cierra! ___! Cashier and bagging on 3.”

Catching Cierra’s eye you share an exasperated look before following instructions. She stands behind the register and gets ready to bag as a swarm of waiting patrons flock to the now lit number of your line.

Four hours later and duty change to mopping a spilled milk jug, you’re sliding on your jacket with building relief at the end of the day’s shift. As soon as it is on you feel an arm hook your own.

Cierra smiles at you and you return it. “You know what I want to see.”

You laugh as you pull your phone out. Cierra squeals as you hand her your phone playing a video of Jooie dancing and scream-singing in Korean.

Cierra is eight years older but quickly befriended you when you started at the grocery store that has become the bane of your existence. Her outgoing personality reminds you of the best friend you left behind in Korea not to mention she takes on the role of adoring aunt to Jooie. The best example of which happening now while she lovingly stares at the video. On long days like today, she begged to see videos and pictures of her “sweet Jooie”. It made you laugh as she was the only one there besides you that called her by her Korean name.

“Look at my smart girl singing flawlessly in another language at four!” She gushed as she swayed a bit to the music. “This is that group BST right?”

You tensed. “Uh BTS, yeah.”

“Why do you always get so rigid and stiff when those guys come up in conversation? Jooie mentioned them when you brought her up here last month and I thought you were going to have a stroke.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She scoffed. “Please. The plug up your ass twists every time you hear their names.”

Her comment caught you off guard and you took the phone back. “Extra, really extra.”

“It’s true though. How do you expect to get through her birthday when you act like that? Didn’t you promise Jooie a trip to Korea for that BST concert?”

For some reason, her constant mispronouncing made you upset. Ignoring that, she had a point. For her upcoming birthday, you promised to take her to see Bangtan in concert. The original plan was to see them on tour but your aforementioned best friend back in Korea, Min Ju, suggested you come to visit her around Jooie’s birthday as the next muster was coming up and a special fanmeeting on the day of her birthday. You tried to explain waiting for their tour was fine but she already got tickets for both. Using the money you were saving to visit her anyway, you booked two tickets to the place you left years back.

Thanks to Min Ju, you wouldn’t be taking her to any of those activities involving Kim Namjoon.

“I’m leaving.”

“No! At least send me that video! ____!____!”

You pretended not to hear, fast walking to the exit.

The cabin lights were off and all you could hear was the hum of the plane engines.

As you looked down at the little one in your arms, it was hard not to succumb to the emotions her precious face made you feel.

Holding her in your arms as you ventured back to the place in which you left behind the love of your life, you drifted back. A young, single, new mother with a heart so broken it was almost physical. It was less than ideal to put it simply.

The first few nights were a struggle. No one was available to help you take care of her. The feelings of guilt were so strong as you felt like a horrible mother. That was one of the first times you fully allowed yourself to think of Namjoon. There was no denying you missed him. Despite promising yourself not to listen to his music around Jooie, you broke.

You didn’t know how to stop her from crying but you turn on ‘Rain’ to at least try to gather your thoughts. Almost as soon as it started, she stopped crying. You couldn’t believe it. “Yeah, baby, that’s your daddy.” You’d whispered to the calmed little one. The music you were actively avoiding became your sure fire way to calm her down.

With seven hours left to go on your flight, it was hard to ignore the feeling in your stomach.

Something was going to happen you just weren’t sure what.

From the minute you arrived to begin your study abroad program, Shin Min Ju has been your best friend. From school stress through the “Namjoon era” as you both called it, to long distance Facetime calls at strange times due to time zones. She even flew out to be with you for Jooie’s birth.

Yet seeing her after so long, you almost cried. She was so gracefully mature now.

She still looked like the 19-year-old high energy international business major with the two ponytails and fake luxury brand clothes but now her hair was shorter and curled with more defined facial features, all hints of baby fat gone, and you were more than sure she could afford to buy three Gucci handbags right then.

“______, if you’re going to cry at least hug me first.” she chided, playfully. You quickly obliged, squeezed the toddler in your arms, between you.

“My goodness, is that Kim Namjoo or a rookie actress?”

The little one giggled. “Auntie!”

Min Ju took her from your arms as you gathered your bags.

“Before you begin spoiling my daughter rotten, can you point me to the nearest and cheapest restaurant, please? I’m tired of western interpretation Korean food.”

Though you clearly asked for budget-friendly cuisine, Min Ju brought you to the least wallet friendly-looking place near the airport. You wanted to complain but not only would it do no good but it smelled heavenly.

After telling you fifteen times that she was paying, she ordered enough food to satisfy the jetlagged and airplane food disgusting monster of hunger you were harboring inside.

Stuffing the last bit of bean sprouts into your mouth you looked over to Min Ju and Jooie giggling about something. It felt like home. Despite the bad feeling you had, it was damn good to be back.

~

Years later and you can still barely control your emotions at times. You had two hours to try.

A damned family emergency put your whole plan out of whack and now you had to figure out how to tell your daughter that Min Ju couldn’t take her to the concert and fan meet today. You wanted to be mad but a family emergency wasn’t something that could be rescheduled. Every time you thought you had mustered the courage you would see her in her BTS shirt and little birthday sash with her ARMY bomb in hand ready to go and you would turn to stone.

“…I could read your mind 물음표 대신 미소만…”

You listened as Jooie rapped along to Born Singer, unable to contain her excitement. As cliché as it was, she sounded pretty natural despite her age.

‘Maybe skills like that are hereditary’ you though, laughing to yourself.

That sealed it. You couldn’t do this to her. “Sweetie,” Those sparkling eyes looked at you. “I’m taking you to the concert today.”

The words came out hesitantly but as soon as they were all out of your mouth her eyes light up brighter than her ARMY bomb. “Really?”

With a forced smile, you nodded. She squealed cutely and ran to hug you as tightly as her little arms would allow.

She pulled you down right after to sit next to her while she watched Bangtan Bombs. RM was showing off some of his “philosophical” dance moves. She giggled. “Auntie Min Ju says I look like Namjoon Oppa.” You smiled and nodded but made a mental note to get Min Ju for that later. Family emergency or not.

The concert went by fast and you had to admit, you had fun. You and Jooie sung and rapped at the top of your lungs.  It made you think of the times you went to support Namjoon. Thankfully, unlike then, you weren’t anywhere near the front. Out of sight.

The autograph event was where the nerves kicked back in. You were quick to pull your mask over your nose and mouth. The hair around your face acted as a sort of curtain. Or at least you hoped it did. Joo began fidgeting in your arms near the front of the line when she spotted Taehyung. Her dimples grew their deepest in front of Jimin. “You are even cuter in person.” He laughed sweetly. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. She wasn’t wrong. They all commented how adorable she was in her sash, telling her happy birthday and autographing her poster while you held her, bowing and thanking each of them as you slowly moved down. She would reply with a small ‘Thank you’ in Korean until the last person, Namjoon. You watched as he smiled brightly at her and patted her head. Jungkook leaned over “Hyung, she looks like you. Hmm much cuter though.” She grinned from ear to ear and turned back to see if you had heard. You didn’t bother thanking him or making eye contact. You just grabbed her poster from the table and went to wait for the photo session.

As you neared the front of the line once again your nerves started to build- much worse this time. There was a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. As your turn neared, it took all you had not to grab your daughter and walk the other way. All it took was one look down at her excited face as she stood next to you to remind yourself it was for her. When it was finally your turn, Jooie ran straight to Jimin as you hid your face further in your mask.

“Oh,” Taehyung said. “You must be famous if you’re covering your face like that.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke. You weren’t famous but they definitely knew you. He always made you laugh but this was funnier. Three other ARMYs settled in for the picture and Jimin held Jooie in his arms. You took a spot next to them which is unfortunately on the other side of “Dad” himself.

“Wait,” Jooie said. “Mommy take off your mask.”

Your heart sped up slightly. “No, no.”

“Please?” She pleaded, dragging out the word for effect.

“Jooie, people are waiting just-”

“No.” She pouted holding out the ‘o’.

“Let’s go, Miss.” a security guard said.

You shifted uncomfortably. “Namjoo” You whispered sharply.

Everyone around you began to feel uncomfortable. You heard a sigh but before you could finish you felt familiar fingers pull down the front of your mask. You were exposed before you could even grasp what was going on.

Your breathing stopped. Jimin was the first one to recognize you. The moment your name left his lips your blood ran cold.

Jooie turned. “You know my Mommy?”

“Mommy?!” the members said in unison.

You panicked. Not waiting for the picture you grabbed Jooie from Jimin and ran. You weren’t sure where you were going but you were moving as fast as you could.

“Mommy?”

Joo was calling you. She had been doing so for a few minutes but it wasn't until you stopped to catch your breath that you finally noticed. You glanced down at her face to see it was red with tears running down both puffy cheeks. “Namjoo-”

“Mommy, what’s wrong? I-I didn’t mean to be a bad girl.” you could tell she was confused and sad as drifted between Korean and English. She obviously heard Jimin recognize you. You were sure she saw the way they looked at you. Most importantly, she didn’t get her picture. Remembering how much it meant to her, you felt immense guilt continue to build on top of everything else.

“Ohh Grace, no. I am so sorry. Mommy just. I-” Before you could gather a good excuse a hand touched your shoulder. A desperately out of breath man with a staff pass lanyard stood over you. “Ex-Excuse me, ma’am. Please come back.”

“No thank you.” You said as politely as possible.

He pursed his lips. “Your daughter is obviously upset just please come back. I promise we can resolve whatever the problem is.”

You knew he wouldn't be able to keep that promise. You glanced down to Jooie. Her head was in the crook of your neck as she hiccuped through her tears. With a reluctant nod, you quietly followed the man back to the venue.

Every curse word you knew, in every language that came to mind, was running through your head. Your leg shook violently as your nerves ran wild. Jooie, on the other hand, was ecstatic. After you wiped her face, there was no sign she had ever been upset. She was bouncing around with you phone watching Bangtan Bombs. That child would never tire of those things.

The man who turned out to be their event manager told you to wait in the room designed as their venue dressing area.

Her bouncing stopped when the door opened. The phone was abandoned on the ground when they walked in.

You were met with seven pairs of eyes and had nothing to say. Simply, holding up your finger to your lips you point at Jooie. Taehyung was the first to move. He swept her up as she yelled “Tae Oppa!”

The two were already chattering excitedly as he carried her out of the room. Jungkook followed behind them sparing you a smile. You returned it as much as you could, knowing he didn’t want to be around for the following interaction.

It was clear there were many eyes still on you but your gaze found the floor.

Jin finally spoke. “There...are so many questions I’m sure we all have.” He emphasized we all. Trying not to single Namjoon out you were sure.

“Understandable.” Tears began to build. For what reason? You weren’t quite sure. Hoseok approached you first, sitting next to you with a comforting arm around your shoulder. They all seemed to be rather concerned about you. Except for Namjoon. He looked as though he was putting the pieces together. The moment it clicked you saw it in his face. He turned to meet your eyes. You only gave him a raise of your brows. Now you waited for the other shoe to drop.

“We didn’t mean to make you upset. Especially not earlier. We were just in shock. We didn’t know you got pregnant again.” Jimin spoke softly.

“What?” You looked to Jimin, seeing only pure confusion on his face.

“Jimin-” Namjoon started.

You were the one confused now. “Again? What do you mean? I’ve only been pregnant once.”

Namjoon sighed as he buried his face in his hands. He knew his lie was about to completely unravel. The confusion kept you silent now, waiting for someone to speak. They knew about Namjoo. They were some of the first to know. You were clearly more than lost in that moment.

Yoongi spoke this time. “Namjoon told us you suffered a miscarriage.”

Everyone looked at Namjoon now. The other shoe had fallen.

You couldn’t believe what you heard. Your head turned to the culprit who was avoiding your eyes at all costs. “Namjoon.” You said in a stern voice.

He sighed and removed his hands from his face. “Once I realized we weren’t going to come to an agreement on the kid-”

“Her name is Grace.” You spat.

“On Grace,  I lied and told them you miscarried.”

“No shit. Yoongi just said that. I want to know why.”

Jimin spoke again. “Wait! Hyung, you said you still went to see her after she lost the baby.”

Hoseok nodded, remembering too. “When we asked to visit her to see how she was doing. You said she was too broken up over what happened to see anyone else.”

Namjoon chewed the inside of his cheek, clearly frustrated all his old lies were no longer buried. The hurt on your face showed clearly on your face. Confusion and anger clouded your brain preventing you from forming a coherent sentence short of profanities.

“I think we all need answers, Namjoon,” Jin said in his most authoritative voice. “Especially her.”

“Fine!” The leader shouted. “Obviously, she didn’t miscarry. I didn’t think it was smart to have a child then. We were just breaking into the level of popularity where our efforts could be noticed. How would it look for me to announce I was having a baby out of wedlock? No one outside of our circle and company knew I had a fucking girlfriend!” He paused for a moment to contain himself. “She wanted to keep the baby but I didn’t It was clear she wasn’t going to change her mind so we broke up. I came up with the whole lie to give myself time to figure out how to tell you all we ended it. Every time I lied saying I was going to see her I was actually looking for her because she had already moved out of her apartment. Min Ju refused to tell me where she went. Eventually, I heard she moved back home so I could say we broke up without anyone running into her.”

You didn’t realize just how much whatever lie he cooked up would affect you until it was all out. You broke down, with Jimin thankfully there to console you.

Jin came and whacked him across the top of his head. Namjoon stared at him in shock.

“Idiot. First, don’t speak as if she isn’t here. She is the mother of your child. Have some respect. Second, we would have figured something out! It wasn’t your place to decide anything for the group’s sake. You aren’t the whole group! You are one member, Namjoon. One person! One person who should have been honest instead of a coward. You’re our leader but it looks like your decision making isn’t as good as we thought.” Jin spoke quickly and angrily. You could tell how disappointed he was in his fellow member. “We are supposed to be like a family. It was good you considered other people, I suppose, but don’t you think you left out the most important people? Did you consider how Grace would feel not knowing her father?”

Yoongi chimed in. “Or worse. What if she found out one day that her father chose fame over her.”

The thought sent pain through your heart. You continued to cry into Jimin’s chest. Hoseok rubbed Jin’s back to calm him. After catching his breath he looked up at Namjoon once again. “We are going to leave so I can calm down. You need to speak to her. If I find out you weren’t giving her the respect she deserves, it will be your ass, Kim Namjoon.” Before Namjoon could protest, the four men were out of the room and you were left alone. It was quiet and tense. What do you say to a person you hurt so deeply? The mother of your child?

How do you begin to form words when the were hoping to never see to again to keep his lies and secrets buried?

Finally, he spoke to you. “What? You’ve finally come for money?”

Unbelievable. “The first conversation we have had alone in years and the first thing out of your mouth is insensitive idiotic bullshit. No, you jackass. I came because my daughter is a BTS fan. Min Ju was supposed to relieve me of this nostalgic nightmare and bring Grace but she couldn’t.”

“Instead, you came?”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t going to waste a year of saving up just because I didn’t want to see you. If I thought I would even have to make eye contact with you I would have saved myself the grief.” Tears began to slip from your eyes again.

He tilted his head. “I don’t believe you don’t want to see me.” He spoke a little too smugly for your liking.

You wiped harshly at the tears you couldn’t stop. “I was perfectly fine seeing you from a distance but she wanted to meet you all. Try saying no to those damn dimples. Unlike some people, I don’t like to disappoint or hurt the people I’m supposed to love.”

He stared, silent. The wheels were turning in his head trying to figure out what to do or say.

You groaned at his silence before turning to leave.

“Jangmi!”

You froze for a moment before turning back to see if he really said you thought he said. Almost as if he read your mind, he said “You heard me, Jagmi. Do you remember what that means?”

You sneered through the remaining tears. “Yes, Namjoon. I still remember simple Korean words. What makes you think you can call me that?”

“Because you’re my rose.” He spoke without hesitation. An answer more absolute than anything he said in the last thirty minutes.

“I stopped being your rose when you left.”

“You could have called me.”

“And you could have been a man.” He had to admit that one stung. “What would it have done? It wouldn’t have mattered, Joon. You weren’t going to change your mind and I sure as hell wasn’t changing mine. I was overwhelmed too but I was over the moon about the child I had growing inside me.”

He smiled sadly, letting his dimples show some. “You called me Joon.”

“Yeah, well... You called me Jangmi.” You sniffled, trying to hold more tears. Unfortunately, it did not work because in seconds were sobbing like the day you left Korea.

Seeing you let go, he quickly closed the gap and caught you as your knees gave out. His arms took a familiar place around your waist to grip you tightly.

You didn’t want to show any more vulnerability in front of this man. You felt he didn’t deserve to hold you like this anymore. It couldn’t be helped much though. Your heart always felt delicate around him. It had taken five years to pick up the pieces but you were right back to this.

You put your arms between the two of you for what little distance you could bring yourself to create. “You don’t know how much I missed you, Joon.”

He stroked your hair, giving a soft ‘I missed you too’ .

You regained some of your senses and pushed him away. “No, you didn’t. You walked out of my life with a pitiful ‘I’m sorry’ lingering behind you.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “You claimed once you fell in love you could never let that person go but you let me go so easily. You let Jooie and I go.”

“Wait, I just said that in an interview a week ago. How did you know that?”

“Grace showed me. She watched everything Bangtan related.

He seemed confused. You chuckled in disbelief. “Did you not hear me say she is a HUGE BTS fan? Why else would I be here?”

He was quiet for a second. “Can I meet her?”

You were taken aback? “R-Really?”

He nodded. You were skeptical but he smiled so you did the same.

“Go wait with her and I’ll be in there in a sec.”

You nodded, still smiling. You found Taehyung and Jungkook still with Jooie in the area near the one you were just in.

They both hugged you tightly before getting a text. They look up at you and Jooie, giving reassuring smiles, before leaving.

You waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It wasn’t until Jooie had fallen asleep that you got up to find him. Finding only cleaning staff you began to feel uneasy.

“Excuse me?” getting the attention of a woman with a badge. “Have you seen RM?”

She looked at you strangely. ”From BTS? They all left a while ago.”

With those words, you felt your heartbreak in smaller pieces than before. Tiny un-repairable pieces.

Not only had he left you-again!- but this time he lied to your face and left your daughter waiting.

Despite your anger, you picked up your sleeping daughter as carefully as you could. Her face reminded you of Namjoon’s in the most innocent way. But you didn’t want to think about him right now.

There was no forgiving him this time.

[writersrealmbts]

Pack Trials: Namjoon

Description:  As the trials continue, something happens that ends the trials before they can run their course. Will you be happy with the outcome?

Warnings: Mentions of death

There are other groups in this, but this is a BTS part of the fic.

Introduction Here!

Posted: 01/19/2019

Tags: Hybrid AU, Hybrid!BTS, Hybrid!Reader, Readers Choice, Hybrid!Got7, Hybrid Everybody and their Mother, ReaderxNamjoon

Angsty/Fluffy/messy:  6,005 words

A/N: Let’s suffice to say none of these ever go the way I initially think they will. This one took an unexpected turn but I’m satisfied with it. I hope you guys like it too. Also, yes, yes I did just mention one of the boys from TxT.

You groaned in frustration, setting aside the last letter. Many of the candidates had done well, but none of them had really spoken to you. You picked up the first again, the one from Namjoon. He was poetic, but also somehow managed to create a sense that he was the safest option. He also spoke of how you were raised being something he found intriguing in pursuing you because he was still such a new leader. He had trained to be the leader, but he couldn’t train a mate to be the leaders wife. He needed someone who could help him. Who could pick up where he left off in his abilities, and would be able to help him care for his pack members. He was right. What he said made sense. And since his pack was still adjusting to the change in leadership it was the right time for him to have a mate. To have someone with him to show that the strength of the pack would be carried by him as well. And since you were known in their pack it wouldn’t be that hard of a transition. You would already have friends. Not to mention you thought that waking up to his face would be more than bearable. You took a deep breath, pushing back your exhaustion, and then set it aside, making the list of those who would go through to the next round and walked out of your tent. Your presence was noticed immediately by the pack leaders who seemed to be discussing something or other, but who quickly turned to you, bowing. Jellyfish was hasty and seemed nervous, Stem seemed reluctant and wary. JY was cordial. Namjoon was calm, friendly and respectful. As he straightened, his eyes searched over your face, as if he could tell that you hadn’t been able to sleep even though you had done your best to hide the signs. As if he knew about the pounding headache you had, and how you really just wanted to wrap up in blankets by a fire. “Good afternoon, my lady,” JY greeted you. You dipped your head to them, your head pounding too much to do much more than that. “Leaders. If you would be so kind as to gather your candidates, I have the list of those who have made it to the next…” the world spun, cutting your sentence off. “My lady?” You blinked a couple times, but your eyes wouldn’t focus. “I’m fine,” You lied. “Just a little dehydrated perhaps.” Namjoon’s face filled your vision, grounding you. “Y/n?” You closed your eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at him again, unable to do much besides trying to ground yourself and make the world hold still as you swayed slightly. His face creased in a frown, and his hands felt your face. “Get a medic.” His voice was as alarmed as his facial expression and he lurched forward and down, catching you as you swayed again and picking you up. “Take her to the cabin,” Stem ordered. Namjoon nodded and carried you quickly out of camp. “You’re supposed to take care of yourself.” “I’m fine,” you insisted, but the world was a blur. “When was the last case of spruce fever in your pack?” Spruce fever? “What’s that?” He cursed. “You guys never got that. I forgot. And Taehyung just had it before we came.” He muttered more curse words. “Is it bad?” You asked, closing your eyes against the racing world. “Yes,” He replied, fear ringing his voice. “More so for women than men. We don’t know why.” Everything was getting a little blurry, especially sounds. “Namjoon…I…I don’t…”

He pounded up to the cabin, somehow managing to open the door and shove past it without jostling you too much. He took you straight to the bed, laying you down on it, then covering you up with the many luxurious blankets. “Stay awake. If you fall asleep you’ll be in even more danger.” “My pack…” “We’ll watch to see if those…if they fall ill. Tell me everything that’s happened since we last spoke. Just…keep talking.” Namjoon’s voice was urgent and you listened to it because there was a commanding edge to it. The voice of a true leader who expected obedience and would make sure you felt the consequences of disobedience. The voice of an ultimate alpha. You swallowed, then hesitantly started talking. “I don’t know when we last saw each other before the pack meetings.” “Two years ago. During the flood.” “Oh…” You barely remembered because of how frantic everyone had been, making sure pups, elders, and mothers were safe and fed, dry and warm. “That was a crazy time. Our packs weren’t getting along the greatest.” “Our leader wasn’t exactly helping that…” “You smoothed things over well. Father spoke highly of you after we parted. Actually, I was surprised he didn’t just try to arrange for me to mate with you in the first place,” You were feeling a little delirious. You were almost hyper-focused on Namjoon. “But then again…I kept saying that I wasn’t going to marry until the pack had an potential successor for my father. He wanted me secure, but I wanted the pack secure. Otherwise they probably would have arranged for us before you took over.” “You wouldn’t have chosen me in the first place.” “Only because you wouldn’t be…happy…with me. Nobody is. I’m…too much trouble…” “Hey, stay with me. You need to stay awake.” “It hurts,” You whimpered, writhing as pains started shooting through your limbs. You felt far too warm and yet freezing at the same time. He was by your side in an instant. “Drink,” He instructed, that same edge to his voice as he propped you up slightly and held a cup to your lips. You drank, following the instinct of his command. He allowed you to drink to your hearts content, especially once you felt the relief of the cool water. “They never thought I’d succeed as a leader, you know. Not when I first started. I’m a klutz. I break things left and right. But after the way I handled the flood they completely respected me. They accepted me. Because they knew I was ready. A pack supports each other and wants what’s best for the whole of the pack instead of individuals. You are a true warrior. That may seem like trouble to your former pack, but it’s an invaluable mindset in mine. Now, keep talking. Tell me stories. Tell me about your father.” You shook your head, sorrow flooding you as the pains came back. You were halfway between sleep and screaming for hours in agony. “Speak,” He ordered. “He didn’t talk for two weeks after my mother was killed,” You whimpered out. “It scared me more than losing her. Scared me more than those that killed her. He didn’t cry, he just didn’t speak. When he looked at me, he wasn’t sad or worried. He was just solemn. Like I was an illusion. When he did start speaking again, his first sentence was to tell me that since I was pretty I needed to be able to fight twice as hard. I needed to be able to fight against anything I came up against. If I brought up my mother, he would get quiet again. He hasn’t spoken of her since I became a full warrior of my pack, and before that, when I started training. If I brought her up, he would get almost cold. Like he had blocked off her memory in i-ice,” You let out a cry of pain, trembling. You could smell his distress. “I brought the medic,” A new voice said, the door letting in a painfully cold breeze that caused you to wail in agony. “Oh dear…” You struggled against your body and Namjoon’s orders to stay awake and keep talking. The war was tearing you apart and you felt like any second the painful breaths you were taking would suddenly stop. “Hey, keep talking, y/n. Now,” Namjoon’s orders cut through the pain, but just enough that you heard him and struggled to comply. “Hurts, hurts, hurts,” You whimpered, writhing as someone tried to hold you still. There was a soothing touch to your face and you turned toward it. “Make it stop, make it stop,” You pleaded. “Okay, okay, shh,” Namjoon murmured in your ear, and you realized it was his hands on your face. “We’re going to help you, we just need you to lay still.” The last two words were a new order. You went limp the moment the order met your ears. He murmured softly in your ear, just comforting words. Then you felt something sharp on your arm. You started trying to pull away, but Namjoon held you in place. “Lay still, y/n. It’ll be over in a moment,” Namjoon ran his fingers through your hair. “We’re going to take care of you.” You let out a whine, tensing up. His voice lowered even further. “I’m going to take care of you.” You relaxed under his words and touch, not even bothering to fight your inner nature. Your animal nature. There was a true, ultimate alpha and he was taking care of you. He was protecting you. You felt weak when you woke up, but you felt better than last you recalled, so you called it progress and managed to get your eyes open at least partially. There was no one anywhere you could see and panic rose in your throat with a scared squeak. Which alerted you to how much pain your throat was in, the squeak seeming to aggravate it and the burning sensation making you wish you could scream. “Drink this,” Namjoon was suddenly beside you, helping you sit up and sip some water. “Your fever hasn’t broken yet, but I’m glad you’re awake. We were getting scared.” His voice was gentle and caring, his hold on you so practiced that for a second there was a painful thought of him holding another woman like this. You shivered and shoved that thought away. If this sickness passed through his pack, he would have helped treat the sick. It’s part of the job of a leader. When there aren’t enough to treat the sick, the leader or leader in training steps in and helps. Even if he had it, before and after he got over it he may have been helping. He set the water aside to pull the covers up over you more. “You cold?” You nodded and he added another blanket, then gentle lay you back on some more pillows so you were propped up. You almost whined at the loss of contact, but remembering how terrible your throat felt stopped you. You watched him put more wood in the stove and place a kettle on it, watched as he flinched after burning himself. He met your gaze and quickly strode back over, almost tripping over a chair, helping you drink more water. “You know where you are?” You thought for a moment. You hazily remembered collapsing in front of the leaders of the packs and Namjoon being close. A cabin…away from the rest. Ah. The honeymoon cabin. No wonder the blankets were so nice. It had been prepared for after the trials ended. When you… You nodded. He carefully brushed your hair from your face. “I told you not to fall asleep,” He scolded gently, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. He gently stroked your hair. “Thankfully, you didn’t fall asleep until after the healer said it was safe for you to sleep. Your arm might hurt a bit. He aggravated the skin to help you absorb the herbs better without us trying to get you to swallow.” You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch. “I never realized,” You whispered. “Realized what?” You opened your eyes and met his gaze. “You’re a true alpha.” He blinked in surprise, then seemed embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to order you…” You shook your head. “It’s okay. It helped. That’s what that skill is for.” You darted your hand out to pull his back to your hair, leaning into his touch when he complied easily. Your hand quickly retreated back to the safety and warmth of the blanket. The extra heat from the stove seemed to start filling the room. He seemed relaxed. More than when you just saw him around the camp. “Your throat still hurting?” You nodded. “Water helped.” “I have a special tea. I’ll put some honey in it for you,” He offered, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to your brow. You blinked up at him. His eyes widened slightly. “Sh—sorry. I don’t know why I did tha—” You pressed a finger to his lips. “Shut up. It’s fine.” He took your hand, and squeezed it. “Squeeze my fingers?” You did, kind of confused. Your confusion grew even deeper when he looked worried. “Hold the cup,” He murmured, handing you the water. You tried, and watched in terror as your hand shook terribly and were barely able to hold the cup for more than a second before he quickly took it back and set it aside. “It’s one of the symptoms…but this is…” He gently rubbed your hand, frowning. “You focus on resting and getting better. I’ll focus on taking care of you. Only a select few know about you falling ill. Four of your former pack mates have fallen ill, and we spread a story about isolating you so you wouldn’t fall ill as well.” You shiver, looking into his eyes, scared at your own weakness. He gently pulled you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m taking care of you. JB knows, and is guarding. Inconspicuously. The guys are suspicious. Seokjin-hyung is the only one who knows that you’re sick. He’s bringing us food. The other pack leaders are having the other candidates go through some exercise regimes. Putting on shows of sorts. Keep people from asking too many questions.” You curled up into his arms, pulling the blankets to you. He made a soft sound, then carefully wrapped the blankets around you and pulling you into his lap as he took you closer to the stove and fireplace. “How’s this?” You made a soft sound of pleasure at the warmth and comfort. You rested your face in the crook of his neck. “Is this okay with you?” He hummed. “Yeah. This is fine. As long as you’re comfortable.” “I’m scared.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “I know. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll be your strength.” “I wanted to choose you,” You whispered. He kissed the tip of your nose. “I know.” You frowned, looking up at him. “You know?” He nodded. “Your father talked to me a lot about a…physical representation of the treaty between our two packs. Talked about how much he had to listen to you admire me…” You groaned and hid your face in him. You were starting to feel the shooting pains again. “’Joon?” He looked down at you. “Pain coming back?” You nodded. He moved you aside and got the tea he had talked about earlier. He hurried to help you drink it once he knew it was cool enough. “This should help. The fever will take back over when the pain increases. I’ll be here for you. I was teasing you earlier. Your father just wanted you to be safe. He wanted you out of Arrow pack. He was afraid if you were there much longer you might get hurt by them. He wanted you to be able to live up to your full potential. He just…when I mentioned that I didn’t want you to be trapped in a relationship where you were unhappy, he said that you were at least attracted to me before. When we were teens. Then when you were feverish, you mentioned something about choosing me based on the letter. Which you had in the pocket of your skirt. You also said it was a logical choice.” You frowned, wrinkling your nose. He chuckled lightly. “It’s okay. I don’t mind that you saw it as a logical choice.” “It’s not the only reason I wanted to choose you.” You greedily drank the tea, the soothing effects of the honey in the tea helping your throat. “More?” He nodded, taking the cup from you. “But…you did choose me?” “If I had to choose now, yes. I would choose you.” He bit his lip, then leaned in an kissed your lips very briefly. “Don’t worry. No one has ever contracted it twice. I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to be okay. Just like when we were kids.” You nudged the scent gland on his neck, breathing in the scent trying to smell him but being unable to. You whined softly. He chuckled softly. “I know, honey. You’re feeling pretty miserable, huh?” He then moved away and got you more tea. Pains shot through your body, and you whined again. “Hate this.” “Getting worse?” You nodded, taking a gasp for a breath instead. His gaze snapped to you, forehead creasing. He left the cup and pot over there, falling to the ground and wincing, before he managed to get to you. He felt your forehead. “The fever is taking hold again. It’s going to be okay. Just relax and I’ll get you through it.” You shivered, squeezing your eyes shut. Light was what woke you up again, and you flinched a little when you realized you were being moved. “Hey, relax, I’ve got you. Relax.” The alpha’s order permeated through the white noise that seemed to encompass you, providing you a moment to get your thoughts to gather on his order. It took your mind another few moments to contemplate exactly what the order meant, and a few more moments to follow the order. “Do you know where you are?” You opened your mouth, but couldn’t come up with the words to respond and ended up shaking your head. “Okay, that’s okay. I’m moving you to one of our vehicles. I’ll explain later. Just relax and go back to sleep. You’re almost through this.” You obeyed him. You woke up in a tent, and it was sometime during the day because your view of the outside world was bright. You looked around, confused. Namjoon ducked into the tent, carrying a bowl of something that smelled amazing. “Hey, you’re awake.” You nodded, shakily pushing yourself up and looking around. Your things were all here, arranged with someone else’s belongings. “Where am I?” “Scout territory. The heart of Scout territory.” You looked up at him in surprise. He sat on the edge of the bed, putting more pillows behind you to prop you up. “There were too many questions being asked about your whereabouts. The leader of the Stem Pack ended up telling them all that you cracked under the pressure, and that they had all suggested you simply mate with me since your father spoke of it before at a pack moot. He told them we were in the cabin…finishing things.” You shook your head a bit, thinking it over. “I guess that works.” “How do you feel?” “Tired? Weak.” You rubbed your arms to warm them a bit more. “Still cold.” He nodded. “You still have a bit of a fever, but you’re on the mend now. And the other pack leaders seemed to respect me more when we parted. Any idea why?” “There are alphas and then there are true alphas. None of them are true alphas. You are. I bet I didn’t respond to any of them while I was feverish?” He shook his head. “Only to me.” He tucked another blanket around you, under your chin, before pecking your nose. His eyes looked slightly bloodshot, and there were shadows under his eyes. His eyelids were drooping a bit. You lifted the blanket, holding it to your left, and wrapped your arms and blanket around him. He sighed softly. “I’ve been so worried. I almost lost you.” “How long have I been…?” “Two weeks.” You shivered, pulling weakly at him. He complied, laying back against the pillows with you, holding you gently. “My pack knows the truth, I told them when we were moving you Yoongi’s wagon. The other packs had already left. When they saw the state you were in they understood.” “They trust you. And respect you.” “I’m going to need your help, you know. I’m still new to this whole leading thing and you’ve had quite a few years practicing as a leader’s mate.” You smiled, sinking further into the bed, eyes starting to close. “Mmm, good. I needed a purpose.” He kissed your forehead. “You’re still okay with us being mates?” You nodded, waking up a bit. “You’re still okay with part of my choice being logical?” He tilted your chin up and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “I am.” You sighed and closed your eyes, trusting that you were safe with him. ——— “There you are,” You said gently to the pup, tucking the end of the bandage in and smiling at the cute boy. “All better. If your eomma doesn’t get the chance to change it in the morning come find me, okay?” “Thank you, noona,” He chirped, smiling back before he ran off with the other pups. You picked up your basket and bag, moving through the camp and delivering different supplies to the different families so you could at least associate the family names to some faces and occupations. You made sure to greet people with smiles, keeping your chin up. You were their leader’s mate, and you were there to keep an eye on the well-being of his pack so that he could attend more important matters. Such as organizing the hunting parties, establishing guard schedules for the stationary trades, and planning the journey for the mothers and pups to the summer camp as well as whether it would be to the same place it had for more than thirty years. Your last stop was to where the men were gathered, brainstorming for the most efficient use of their numbers and time. They were debating something or other, with Namjoon looking thoughtfully between Jimin and the other man whose name escaped you. Jimin looked irritated, and behind him Yoongi and Hoseok exchanged a look of muted irritation. “It’s the way things have always been done!” Jimin’s brows came down even further. “It’s not enough, not without the addition of Arrow pack protecting the camp by the lake! We can’t risk losing any of them.” “The camp has been safe thus far, why should that have changed?” “Because the Arrow pack territory has been left unguarded, surely the poachers will have figured this out by now. The poachers know exactly where the camp is and has for three years now, my pack had guard camps stationed through our territory around the lake to ensure safety. Without those camps the risk is enlarged,” You interjected calmly. “How can you be certain that they know? You’re a…” the man stopped himself short at a low growl from Namjoon. “I myself fought off some poachers last summer alongside some of the elder warriors of my pack. I assisted my father in assigning guard groups. How would you know what happened in Arrow territory, pray tell?” You asked, walking calmly around to Namjoon’s side and touching his arm to redirect his attention to you saw that he was still sizing up the man who would have insulted you. Namjoon blinked at you, then kissed your forehead. “And how did they get through Arrow territory to that point?” You let your gaze shift over to the man. “How could Arrow pack let them get that close?” You met Namjoon’s gaze again. “How could you not stop them before entering your territory? What kind of warriors are you?” “Enough,” Namjoon murmured, his tone signifying that he didn’t wish to hear one more word. “Arrow pack suffered immense losses long before any of the other packs. Their territory is the closest to where we think the poachers live. It dissolved due to the conflict of interests. What happened is past, we can only take the knowledge we have gained from it and move forward. We cannot risk the lake. Not this year. Maybe after we train the newest of our young men. That is my decision. We’ll place them near Hollowpoint bay. It’s one of the easiest locations in our territory to protect. We should work intelligently. We have split what was Arrow territory between our own and Jay pack since we bordered them. JY has given us leave to take the part of the land that we wish the most to have, Hoseok, Soobin, and Jungkook stay. The rest of you may go. Talk to Yoongi if you wish to be posted at Hollowpoint bay with the women and children. I’ll determine a sufficient number by tomorrow.” You moved to leave with the rest, but he caught your waist. “I want you to be here for the conversation. JY said it so you could have what part of the land you wanted.” Namjoon spoke just loud enough for you to hear. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for intervening with them. I didn’t have an answer, but without that added protection…it’s just too much of a risk. You were guarding alone, weren’t you?” “There weren’t enough fighters for me to have assistance but he would never have believed I was alone.” You tucked yourself against his shoulder. “Yah, don’t rub it in,” Hoseok chuckled. You looked at him and smiled, not moving away from Namjoon even a little. Namjoon laughed softly, deep in his chest. “You have the map?” “It’s pretty rough, just enough to get me through the territory, find the main camp,” Hoseok spread a map of your former pack territory onto the table. You glanced over it, slipping out of Namjoon’s arms and grabbing a pen. You dipped it into the ink and started putting in important landmarks. “Given the proximity to Scout territory, there’s a strip of the territory that I would like that could also prove fair compromise for the Jay pack.” You carefully penned in the river and gorge. You marked the outposts, the camps, any established buildings or bridges. You’d long ago memorized all maps of the land you called home for so long. Namjoon tucked your hair behind your ear. “You’ve tired yourself.” You looked up at him. “It’s hard. I’m used to being able to do so much. Adjusting to limits…I cannot wait to be full strength again.” He looked over the map with you, hand resting lightly on the small of your back. He seemed to be taking the time to relax and gather his thoughts, simply watching you add details to the map. Hoseok came back over with Jungkook and another boy you weren’t quite familiar with but had seen around, must have been Soobin. “Got them, they were goofing off with Taehyungie and Jiminie.” Then he grinned at the map. “You’ve had practice doing this, haven’t you?” “Once or twice,” You answered vaguely, penning in a vague landmark beyond the gorge. You hesitated in that area. Namjoon gently rubbed your back. “It’s hard, placing your loyalty with a new pack. Thank you for doing so well. It that where…?” He held up one of the maple sweets that you had left with him earlier. You nodded, looking back at the map. “I…can I…” “We’ll talk about it later,” He whispered, guiding you off of the table. You nodded, still keeping your gaze on the map. It felt wrong to be laying out your territory for them to see. “Because it’s more vulnerable to attack from poachers now, the territory will be better used for hunting trips or resource acquirement. Winters are more intense, but there are various groves where large game gathers. There are good foraging areas as well.” Hoseok bent over the map. “Y/n is in our group for this, yes?” Namjoon went rigid beside you. “It would be the smart way of doing things,” Jungkook said carefully. “She knows the territory best. To keep the peace. They should have a map of the territory as well. Y/n should be the one working with the two packs to split the territories.” Soobin looked between Hoseok and Jungkook like they were out of their minds for talking like that to their leader. “They’re right,” You said softly. “No one can navigate that area quite so well as I can. JY is already being generous in giving us our choice of the land.” “He’s giving you your choice of the land,” Namjoon corrected. “If we take too much, we won’t be able to manage it.” You nodded, “Which is why this strip would be the most logical choice, especially if I continue with my family’s tradition. There’s still good hunting in these areas and it would be a smaller strip to manage.” “Won’t it be a little difficult for you to carry on the family tradition alone?” Hoseok asked. “Who said she was going to do it alone?” Namjoon asked, scowling slightly at the map. “Joon-ah, you can’t exactly take the time off for sugaring,” You pointed out, sliding your hand along his arm to comfort him. He seemed a bit red in the cheeks when he met your gaze. “And it might be a while before we have pups,” You added in a quieter voice, looking down at your hand as it shook from the exertion of the day. It wasn’t quite dinner time yet and already you had expended most of your energy. He took your hands in his to steady them. “But maybe you could teach some of the younger members of the pack?” He placed a gently kiss on your cheek. “How young?” “Younger than Jungkook but old enough to be training. We have some gentler souls that need an occupation and…maybe…” You slowly nodded. “I’ll consider it.” He kissed you. “Take your time. You have time. You’re not strong enough for a trip like setting a new boundary.” You bit your lip. “It’s not going to be for another week and a half. If I balance work and rest, I should be strong enough for something as simple as a establishing a border through the territory I know best. The hardest stretch is the gorge, which we don’t necessarily need to cross. As long as they know to meet us around here, then we can take a little extra time to set the border. Right?” You looked to Hoseok. He nodded. “Between us and Jay pack we don’t have to worry about being safe, and if the gorge is as difficult as you say, then if we cross it after parting ways with Jay pack the likelihood of poachers…?” “Slim, very slim. We never encountered outsiders in that area. Well, their bodies, but never anyone living.” You stroked Namjoon’s hair, noticing that his jaw was set, chin jutting out slightly. “If anything does happen, I know all of the places to hide or best places to fight. Let me be useful, Joonie. Let me do something for the pack. Show them that my heart lies here.” He looked at you. “Does someone doubt it?” “Joonie,” You repeated, giving him a bit of a pout. “It’s only natural that they should want me to prove my loyalty to my new pack. It’s only a few that need convincing. This is something I can do. I just need you to tell me I can.” He looked at the map again, holding tightly to you. You shrugged slightly at Hoseok and the other two. You’d given your argument. Nothing more you could do but wait for Namjoon to make his decision. “Hoseok, take word of the plan to Jay pack,” Namjoon said, then boldly marked along where you had suggested with some red ink. “You three and y/n. Give them this map, tell them that this is the split that y/n suggested. Soobin, as his apprentice, you should go with him. Jungkook, where’s your apprentice?” “He was assisting Jin-hyung on my orders.” “Start preparing him for the mission,” Namjoon ordered casually. “It’ll be good for both of you. You can bond with him.” Jungkook nodded, but he looked nervous. Hoseok slung an arm around Soobin’s shoulders, then Jungkook’s. “Come on, let’s find some food before we have to head out.” Namjoon guided you toward the tent the two of you shared. “It’s Jungkook’s first time with an apprentice. Actually, it’s Hoseok’s too, but he’s helped with other apprentices before. Jungkook is used to being the youngest.” You smiled. “He’ll do fine. His apprentice must be fairly decent as well if you’re allowing him on this trip.” He nodded. “I want you only doing enough in a day to help you rebuild your strength. I want you resting as much as you can.” “Okay.” “And you better leave some energy for me,” He added, pecking your temple. “Of course,” You replied softly. He held the tent open for you to duck in. You sat on the bed, watching as he shrugged off his jacket in the warmer environment of the tent. He was strong, but not in an outwardly way. He didn’t have bulging muscles, but he was fit, and when he moved—especially in the privacy of your tent—you could see his muscles. Now, without his shirt… He sat beside you and gently cupped your face. “You understand…that some of them won’t accept you until…” You nodded. “Until I have your child. I know. Soon. Not yet, but soon.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips. He grinned at you. “I can wait. I’m just happy being with you. I don’t want to risk losing you. Promise me you’ll be careful on that trip. One near-death experience a summer is more than enough for both of us. I’ll stay away from death, and so will you. Deal?” You leaned in and pressed another kiss to his lovely lips. “Deal. I should try and sleep a bit. Do you have time to stay with me?” He wrapped around you, kissing you a couple more times. He let his forehead rest against yours. “I have time. But you can’t sleep in that, it’ll wrinkle.” He stood up and pulled you to your feet. You smiled up at him. “I’m very tired. Help me?” He looked you up and down, biting his lip with a smirk. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you into a hug for a moment, his hands sliding up and undoing the buttons. “Glad to, baby. Don’t want you overdoing it. Just don’t laugh if I mess up some of the buttons.” “Never,” You murmured, kissing him a little more. You lingered on his lips, dropping your arms when he managed to finish unbuttoning your overdress. He slid the dress over your shoulders and arms. “How many layers are you wearing, baby?” He asked, laughing a little before placing a gentle bite on your neck. You gently hit his chest. “It’s still cold outside.” He laughed and helped you step out of it. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep you warm.” He kissed you again, then tucked his head into your neck. “I’ll take care of you.” His voice had a tone to it that made you melt into him, letting him tend to your every need. “Alpha,” You murmured happily. He met your eyes. “I’m going to love you forever.” You believed him. “Then I’ll love you longer.”

Masterlist.   Masterpost: Who did you pick?   Introduction