#on the hunt for a voice for everyone it's hard lol

[kithtaehyung]

seven days (monday) | jjk

title: monday series: seven days: masterlist | prologue pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x reader(f) genre/rating: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; roommates to lovers au summary: after a long ass day at work, all you wanna do is sleep. but jungkook has made dinner reservations, and this whole bet is off to a rocky start. warnings: a whole lot of sass (jk and reader), hand holding??, yes that is a warning, jk wears a tank, tension, embarrassment, snide comments, kookie is too fine and it HURTS!!, leather, dance king jk, reader bby is stressed as hell TT, roommates to idiots, anxiety, overthinking, kissing (????), general cuteness bc this jk is a loser and i love him :(((, reader is a queen, i wanna fight this jungkook but what's new lol notes: 7days is back on the menu, chatttttt!!! if you've been waiting since forever i wanna see hands up in the audience hahaha notes 2: just a little extra warning here but he’s unbelievably confident in this one yet a big softie and it HURTS😩 drop date: april 28th, 2025, 9:13pm est word count: 11k🗯��🗯️ taglist: sign up here (i check every entry so read the rules!)

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Monday is gnawing on your final straw.

Meetings, reports, decisions—everything has warning signs attached and you’re quite close to heeding them and finding the nearest exit. Literally, figuratively, and expeditiously. 

Fuck. 

That means you might have to job hunt soon. For two jobs to compensate for how much you’re making now.

Why, oh why, did you choose the condo you did? And why did you pick a condo in the first place? Apartments would have been just fine for your needs and you could’ve been saving more for a fallout like this.  

Well. You know the answer to that first question. 

And it’s an answer you don’t regret.

Thinking back to that day, you still remember the way the lobby looked. How plants lined glass walls, how people occupied various mid-century chairs like they were paid background extras in a film. 

More specifically, you remember seeing a vaguely familiar boy barrel through the revolving doors, dark locks whizzing about and paper clutched tight in his tatted hand. 

Ignoring you entirely, he cut the line just as you were about to inquire about a tour—everyone including the concierge pinning him with disgust. 

“Back of the line, Mr. Jeon.” 

“She can wait, just—”

Your memory spun with that even more familiar last name, but you still couldn’t quite place where you knew this asshole from. 

“—and I have it here. Also, why are you calling me th—” 

“The rent is already way past due. We’re listing your unit.”

“Anj.” 

“Mr. Jeon.” 

“You know I have the money.” He sounded so rushed. So desperate. “I just forgot cus my roommate left—” 

“You forgot for three weeks—” 

“I was helping them move that whole time!” 

Sighing, you checked your phone and determined you were gonna give it two more minutes until you trekked to another building. 

But you had heard a mountain of good things about the place, and that particular day was the only free one you had to check it out.

So you waited. Because anything would beat staying in a cramped apartment with someone that clipped their toenails on a weeping living room table.

“Look. I have two months’ rent right here, plus extra.” Hair still frazzled, so-called Mr. Jeon hastily slapped his paper down before sliding it forward. “And I can even live by myself if I need to.” 

“Doesn’t matter if you have the money or not,” Anj explained, voice as snipped as her fresh bangs. “The unit’s already listed in the system.” 

“Since when?” 

A merciless click echoed from her keyboard, and you knew exactly what was coming before she hammered home, 

“Now.” 

“Anjali…” 

You tried so hard to hide your face.

If anything, you scored a jackpot in people watching that day. Observing the interaction, you wondered what the hell this man did to the concierge to get this pathetic but hilariously hostile treatment. 

“Sorry, Mr. Jeon. You can apply for it again,” she offered with a flit of her hand, “If none of these nice, patient people in line take it.” 

Just like that, it was the final, abrupt end of the battle. The defeated dropped his head back in loss before reclaiming his paper with a sad flourish. 

And to this day, you don’t know what compelled you to speak up when you did. But you will always remember the reactions to your curiosity, 

“What does it look like?” 

Both him and Anjali whipped their heads so fast you froze. While the concierge appeared shocked, there was something in that boy’s eyes that strangely matched how you felt. 

Did you look familiar to him, too? 

A ping from your computer kicks you back to the present, and your rapid blinks make you realize you’ve been spacing out at your desk for minutes now. 

But you notice that the alert’s for the end of your shift, and you quickly wrap everything up before heading home. 

Straight back to the very condo you secured to save Mr. Jeon Jungkook’s ass. 

Sleep. 

That’s all you need right now. 

Beautiful, wonderful, ever-evasive sleep. 

But the only thing you get when you unlock the door is a flurry of activity, wave of music, and skittering of paws.

“There you are!” Your roommate yells as your legs are knocked by his furry companion. “Hurry and get ready!” 

When you shout back a droning rejection, Jungkook splashes the hallway with the most disrespectful tank and jeans you’ve ever seen him wear. 

Fuck, he’s flipping on a leather jacket over his shoulders, too? Your purse immediately slips from yours. 

Nope. He needs to stay where he is. There’s no reason for him to keep walking closer but he’s doing it anyway goddamn it you don’t have the brain capacity for this! 

“Didn’t you read my texts?” 

“No,” you readily admit, moving to reach your room before Jungkook can block your path. 

Too late. 

Damn, his cologne is fantastic.

It almost distracts you from the way he casually leans on your door. And the way his voice drops a whole octave when he reveals, 

“I’m taking you to dinner, remember?”

The butterfly on your heart is shooed away. “Where?”

“Not telling.”

“Seriousl—”

“But we gotta leave soon.” 

Your bed is so close. And yet so, so far. 

But damn, whatever Jungkook’s wearing proves way too enticing. You almost fold on its grip alone. Is this a new scent? Is he trying something different? 

Nope, focus. You want—need—sleep. 

With a sliver of hope, you reach for an out, “Does it have to be tonight? I just wanna be in bed.” 

“I’m not opposed to that.”

“Jeon.”

Wait. Is that the first time Jungkook’s said something like that to you? Sure, you’ve both been suggestive with each other before, but that? That felt… 

“I’m kidding!” He laughs, though his eyes are revealing truer angles. To your relief, though, the saucy reaction is short lived, giving way to a regular yet pitied tone,

“The next open slot is in two months.” 

What the hell? Where the fuck are you going? “You mean I got five minutes to prep for some fancy place I can’t know the name of?” 

“Uhh, no.” When Jungkook backtracks down the hall, his steps are as fast as his corrections, “You have two. And you don’t have to dress nice!” 

“But you—!”

The speed demon is back in his room before you can hound him. 

Muttering to no one, you agree with his last statement, “Good, cus I will not.” 

Well. You know two things. 

One: there’s no way this man is lasting ten days at this rate, much less seven.

And two: there’s absolutely no way you’re dressing up for whatever this is. Too much chaos went down at work for you to care about a fake dinner date with Jungkook. 

You’re going for the food the food the food. Nutrients, sustenance, anything that satisfies the tiger that you are not paying a pet deposit for. 

This better be worth the exhaustion. 

Pushing your door open, you immediately take big strides towards your awaiting closet, already knowing exactly what you’re gonna wear.  

Reservations two months out? As if.

How nice can this place really be?

Fucking opulent, apparently. 

This is where Jungkook meant when he said there was a place he wanted to try? The most expensive, lavish, influencer-riddled establishment in the city? 

When you recognize the damn near estate you’re pulling up to, you regret not caring about appearances and start sweating in your joggers. 

This whole bet is a prank! 

Because your roommate most definitely saw you for a whole minute before you both rushed out of the condo. How could you not remember? He eyed you as soon as you re-entered the hall to join him, and the back of your neck still has leftover chills from his steady staring. 

That whole time he saw what you were wearing and he didn’t say shit? “Kook, what the fuck?” 

“What?” 

“This is the place you wanted to try?” 

As Jungkook rolls up to the valet line, you get an annoying display of long fingers on his steering wheel. 

So you look out the dark window instead. 

“Nah, I just wanted to take you here. There’s a dessert place I wanna try after,” he explains with a smirk, little pieces of your sanity littering his passenger seat. “Don’t worry, I’m paying.” 

Though you’re thankful he’s footing the bill—because you did not budget for shelling out a whole check tonight—you still sputter while taking in all the beautiful, pressed outfits walking inside. “It’s—I would’ve—Fuck, why didn’t you tell me I’m underdressed?” 

They may not even let you in with what you’re wearing.

“Relax, roomie,” Jungkook pips, which stresses you the hell out. “I’m not dressed up either but they know me. We’re good.” 

Lies. He is a liar and the heat behind your eyes will set his pants ablaze. “They know you.” 

“Uh huh.”

When it’s your car’s turn, crisp uniforms rush around as you brace for utter shame. Not even the new car smell that still lingers in Jungkook’s car can keep you calm. 

Thank everything holy that you fixed yourself above neck. That one split second decision saves you a sliver of embarrassment. 

But you’re still in fucking sweatpants and sneakers. And a humongous hoodie. 

God. 

There’s no way this isn’t a set up.

No matter what, you’re holding yourself in high regard tonight. And that starts with greeting the valet with a bright smile as he opens your door, “Thank you so much.” 

“You’re very welcome, Ms. Jeon.” 

Miss what. 

Your manufactured grin has some defects as you nod, gripping your bag as you exit the vehicle. When you turn, you see your current annoyance chatting it up with the other valet, wind pushing your sweater into your increasingly sweaty back.  

Huh. They do look chummy.

Was Jungkook actually being serious?

“Have a good night, Mr. Jeon!” 

“Thanks, Dio! Take good care of her, yeah?” 

“As always.” 

Between witnessing the valet talking to your roommate as if they were friends, and having said roommate’s last name thrust upon your person, you can only stare. 

This is so weird. 

But you click back into focus as Jungkook moves to join you, channeling all the energy you usually harness for professional outings and executive dinners. 

Because even though you don a calm expression, you waste no time clutching his offered arm extra tight. Contempt buries itself in your low comment, “You’ve got some nerve, Kook.” 

“Thanks!” 

“Not a compliment.” 

“Ouch.” 

As you stroll through the grand entrance, you flare with conflicting feelings when he softly pulls you close. Subtle hints of luxury wisp into your nose, which compete with the warm feeling of his body feeling so solid against yours. 

Heavens above.  

Unbothered, he whispers back, “You’ll thank me after we eat.” 

“I look like shit.” 

“You’re perfect tonight, Ms. Jeon.” 

Nope. No, no, no, you will not acknowledge the fluttering in your stomach. Absolutely not. 

“Don’t call me that,” you seethe, smiling at the waiter before you’re led to your table. 

And despite the stares you’re drawing, there’s something else that’s distracting you even more. Something that has your brain swiftly forgetting everything you’ve been fussing about. 

Jungkook has lowered your arms so that he could lead. 

By holding your hand. 

His fingers feel so large around yours, his palm a strange but soothing mix of smooth and comfortable heat. Immediately, you feel a little more relaxed, which is strange considering you should be the exact opposite right now.

And as he guides you to sit in a chair that’s been pulled out for you, all you can do is follow in silence. 

Because your fingers had fit so… 

“Looks like they let anyone in here these days.”

Both your ears perk up before your fingers curl hard and fast. 

Did you really just hear that? Did they really have to say something when you’re in a shit mood? Because they’re the next table over and therefore within launching distance so now you have to do something about it— 

“Well, yeah,” Jungkook pounces before you do, snagging your look of confusion and signaling for you to follow along. When he rests leather forearms on tablecloth, he pins the couple with a cheeky smile. “That’d be pretty shitty if they didn’t let you two in, right?” 

Okay. Staring at long, tatted fingers flexing before tightening into a fist, you have to admit: anyone defending your pride is hot as fuck. 

And Jungkook being the one to do it? 

All thoughts you’re thinking have no place at the table.

The man laughs as he gets up. “Sure,” he scoffs. “Enjoy the meal, kids. Filet’s the house favorite.” 

“You sure?”

All eyes snap to your roommate. 

Scratching the bottom of his jaw, Jungkook looks into the air, scrunching his brows ever so slightly in mock-thought. “Pretty sure it’s the tomahawk, but. Maybe it changed since last week—Eddie!”

Your eyes follow his stare behind you to see a staff member waving before heading over. 

When he gets closer, you realize your roommate called over not a waiter… But a manager? On a first name basis?

Well, shit.

Your tongue pokes your cheek in high amusement. This couple next to you is lucky they just paid their bill or else they’d have to endure a whole meal of Jungkook sass. The man’s partner already looks like they’re gonna raise hell when they get in the car.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon! Always good to see you.” 

Inwardly—and maybe also outwardly—you’re holding in your grin as they vacate before your super petty date can even get the clarification out,

“Same! House favorite is the filet now?”

“Ah, no. It’s still the tomahawk, but the ribeye’s also very popular.”

Jungkook calls out to the retreating couple instead of the guy in front of him, cupped hand bracing his cheekiness, “Thanks, Eddie! Good to know!”

When he shifts back in his seat, he watches Eddie check behind him before raising a brow. “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Nah.” Jungkook smiles at you before settling into his chair. “We got it.” 

You can only blink, conflicting feelings warring in your stomach and making it spin. If you wanted to smile, it’s certainly coming out strained because that guy’s rude comment did catch you off guard.

To be fair, you are dressed up the most casual out of all the people here. But maybe your confidence is also weakened from the whole day, causing anything else to get a punch in. On top of the fact that you would never come here on your own unless you struck gold. 

But that does beg another question. 

Why does Jungkook look so at home this easily? His outfit is casual, too—leather jacket floating in a sea of suits and ties, for goodness sake. How does he do it? Has he actually been here that often?

Maybe it’s the way he carries an aura you have to fight to conjure on your best days. 

“Will the lady be having the usual tonight, Mr. Jeon?” 

Ah. Scratch that.

It’s because you’re the hundredth woman he’s taken here. And somehow all of you have been provided the same meal. 

Just like that, the haze around your brain vaporizes, leaving you glaring at wide eyes. 

So much for protecting your pride!

“Ah, umm,” Jungkook stutters, ears alight with embarrassment. “Not this time—I mean, no.” 

Mm. At least you’re relishing the way he’s tripping over himself.

“Apologies,” Eddie rescinds, looking just as alarmed. Good. “Here’s our menu for tonight, and we have a few specials that you can view on the first page.”

“Thank you,” you answer for your roommate, and you feel avenged when he visibly knows he fucked up. Feeling cheeky, you fire off, “What is the usual for us Ms. Jeon’s, if I may ask?” 

Both men freeze and seek each other before you get your stiff answer, “Ah, umm. Yes, our wedge salad, plain with house-made dressing on the side.” 

“Great.” 

As soon as you open your menu with finality, you can sense the tension radiating from your audience, inwardly proud of speaking out. 

Because this whole bet, or prank, or whatever it is? It is not gonna go the way Jungkook thinks it will. 

Even though a wedge salad with some accoutrements does sound pretty good. But who are you to back down now. 

When Eddie moves away—or scurries, rather—you shoot lasers of disappointment over your dimly lit menu. 

Which Jungkook very intentionally ignores.

But he’s not getting away that easily. If he’s gonna rope you into this mess, you’re gonna fight back. 

“Charming start,” you mutter.

“Sorry.”

Looking up in earnest, you notice something odd about your fake date.

He looks… Genuinely upset. Borderline disturbed.

Well. It’s his fault in the end. 

But is that really the expression of someone pranking their roommate? If it is, he could even pursue acting if his social media accounts don’t pop off. 

Focus. Actually read the words on the menu instead of staring. What are you hungry for? Everything here looks and sounds amazing so it’s gonna be hard to choose…

Your eyes slide over your hardy pamphlet one more time. 

And as Jungkook keeps watching the candle flick between you, something else stirs in your chest. 

Acting or not, he’s quiet as fuck. Which is making you more uncomfortable than anything else because he just lit up confronting that couple for you. 

A resigned sigh escapes your lips. “It’s okay.” 

He lifts his gaze.

“But at this rate, you’re definitely losing this whole thing.”

His laugh doesn’t have his whole heart inside. “I just… I’m sorry. That wasn’t… Wasn’t cool.”

“We’re good,” you assure, your softer side clutching the reins for a moment. “I can play wifey if you’re paying, yeah?”

At this, Jungkook seems to lighten up a tad, though you catch a hint of what you’ll later realize is shyness. “Yeah,” he confirms with a slow drawl. “Get whatever you want, Ms. Jeon.”

“How considerate.” 

“Anything for my date.” 

Your brows pinch for a moment, and you quickly remind yourself of what just happened with the manager. “Rip. I’m definitely getting more than a salad.” 

“I know,” Jungkook replies, palming his menu with a smirk on his lips. “Between the two of us we’re gonna blow my whole stack.” 

“We’re getting apps?”

“And sides.” 

“Wine?” 

“Fuck yeah.” 

“Hell yeah, bro.” Your mouth betrays you when it stretches sideways. But you can’t help it because this is where you’re comfortable. You’re not in an expensive restaurant on a date, you’re just having dinner with your roommate. 

Your very attractive, super sauve, completely senseless roommate.

Pulling at your hoodie, you let your amusement loose as your shoulders finally relax, “Good thing I wore this then, huh?” 

When Jungkook knowingly smiles with lips pressed, you feel like the only one in the room. 

And maybe like you got the whole prank thing all wrong. 

Damn. 

Everything you’ve eaten so far has you transcended into a higher plane. 

Truthfully, you can’t even recall a better meal than this, and the way Jungkook looks while he digs into his ribeye is how you feel inside. Satiated, content, and upset at how good the food tastes. 

But it’s not just the meal that warms your belly. The small bits of talking and joking you’ve been having with him have helped you forget the multiple vibrations you feel in your purse. And the wine has certainly helped relax some tightly-wound muscles. 

“Om mah guh,” you groan, this swallow as good as the last. “Can I live here instead?” 

Your roommate laughs with a mouthful of food. “Mmhmm.” 

“Good.” You reach for a sip of your drink, noticing that you’re both making good headway on all the plates. Taking a much needed break, you slump back in your increasingly comfortable chair before gazing at chandeliers. “Cus I think I just ate my month’s rent.” 

“You aren’t even paying!”

“Oh, yeah.” You beam at shining bulbs. “Sucks for you.”

Jungkook’s laugh could be recognized miles away, you muse.

But good god.

Haughty establishment be damned. Even if one of these light fixtures crash onto a table, you’re still gonna be rubbing your grateful stomach and sporting a drool line.

Another quick puff of amusement shoots across the table, but you don’t get a response because a lighter voice floats above you instead, 

“Hey, baby.” 

Huh? 

Brows furrowed, you leer down your nose before straightening, wondering who the heck is oh shit this woman is gorgeous. And tall. 

Which makes Jungkook’s offhanded greeting so comical. “Sup!” 

The girl seems unfazed, manicured nails caressing his shoulder. “You were supposed to call me tonight.” 

Ouch. Did he double-book your date on a booty call with a goddess? 

A mere wallflower, you silently pull out your phone as Jungkook reluctantly looks upward—and you know in your heart it’s because the bite on his fork was meticulously made. “Oh. Did I say that?” 

“You said so last week.” 

Yikes. 

“I say a lot of things.” 

Double yikes. 

Your lips smush into a line of pity when you see a pair of eyes roll. Emotions seem to blend together in your ribcage now, but you really should care less. This isn’t a real date. 

Regardless of how you feel, this lady could grace the cover of a magazine if she hasn’t already. Why hasn’t Jungkook abandoned your table to follow her out the door? 

“Whatever, I guess. Have fun with your…” Sudden judgment makes you blink. “Friend.” 

Triple yikes. 

Good riddance! Forget anything you were thinking in her defense. She doesn’t deserve him with that sour attitude, and you’re completely saying this as his roommate. And friend. Duh.

You’re about to unleash some choice words before Jungkook simply smiles. “She’s my date,” he proclaims while looking right at… you? “And I will.”

Well.

That gesture was a little shocking.

But it could be staged. Is this girl just acting? Just another part of this bet? 

Nah. There’s no way he would go through this elaborate of a prank just to mess with you. Right?

Right?

Jungkook finally takes that huge bite of his concoction as the woman hums and struts off, and you can’t help but blink at him. Once. Twice. Two more for good measure. 

When he notices your bewilderment, a word is blocked by chewed protein, “What?” 

“She was hot.” 

“And?” 

Something akin to pure disbelief shoots out of your nose. “You’re gonna pass that one up?”

As expected, you have to wait a second as he finally swallows. But you’re willing to do that because if he talks with a full mouth one more time you’re gonna—

“Why wouldn’t I? I’m with you.” 

Gonna… You’re gonna…

What were you complaining about again? 

Jungkook has to be kidding. He has to. For goodness sake, you’re a bloated mess in sweats and there are tons of tens walking around. 

You’ve picked up on the stares. More than one person has given your roommate glimpses and double-takes. You’ve just ignored them because you were famished, tired, and knowing you won’t be doing this little stunt forever. 

But after seeing how adamant Jungkook has been, you at least admire his commitment. The efforts shown tonight have been quite endearing. 

Maybe you can start treating this like an actual date, too.

Leaning forward, you rest casual elbows on the table, shielding your chin with clasped palms. “If you’re serious… what do you usually talk about on these things.” 

You ask this to show that you’ll try. An olive branch extending above herbs and coagulating butter meant to assure him. 

So why does Jungkook look thrown off to hell? “On dates? Uhh…” 

Great. You concede to paying more attention just to fall for his styled hair. And of course it looks even better when he rakes through his locks! Does he really have to do that? Damn it, damn it, damn it. 

“They usually do most of the talking.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“It’s true!” 

If that’s true, you kinda feel bad. Aren’t dates supposed to be how you get to know one another? Both people should be talking and finding similarities to build connections. Or at least to keep things interesting. 

“Well,” you scoff, “What do you wanna talk about?” 

“Oh. Hmm.” 

Silence remains your only response for a heavy set of seconds. And you relax your hands with each passing tick, your heart kinda sinking alongside their descent. 

Jungkook almost looks… unsure. Lost. 

This wasn’t your goal in the slightest. And now you feel a little bad for asking, even if it was just a genuine question. 

A slight furrow in your brows stems from the tiny pang in your chest. Something inside of you wants to reach over and grab that nervous hand tapping his silverware, but you can’t move. It doesn’t feel like the time. 

You don’t wanna do this to yourself again, either. 

But after some clinks and chatter around your table, your date pulls out a topic,

“There’s a new d—”

Loud buzzing makes both of you jump, eyes slinging to the phone lighting up on your side of the table. 

Shit, you forgot to put it back in your bag.

Swiping it quick, you stare at the screen before wincing, because you finally got somewhere with substance. 

But these calls won’t stop. They’re not gonna stop until you answer them. 

“Hold that thought, okay?” You ask with sorry eyes. “I need to take this.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Jungkook responds quick. But his face gives a lot more away than he intends. “I’ll, uhh. Be here.”

You nod in return, not quite telling him what you want to say. 

But wading through stares with your phone against your ear shifts your mood entirely. 

And maybe one day, you’ll admit to your roommate that you wanted nothing more than to keep talking to him instead. 

That was a mistake. 

You really shouldn’t have taken that call. 

Using a warm towel to fix what you can of your face, you stare at determined eyes before steeling resolve. Get back out there and back to Jungkook. This whole thing took you way too long. 

God, that was a huge mistake. 

Shuffling back into your chair, you notice that a lot of the plates have been bussed and your napkin replaced with a new one. 

“Fuck,” you whisper. “How long was I gone?” 

“Who was that?”

His sudden question makes you pause on the way down, but you sit anyway. He doesn’t need to know. “Oh, it’s…” Waving your hand, you shoo any doubts he has in those starry eyes. “Whatever. I’m back now. What were we taking about?”

“Who called you.”

“No one, Kook.”

“Are you sure cus you—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, looking away before he can pin you down with one confused stare. “I just.. It’s no one, okay?”

Jungkook hesitates, but he answers, “If you say so.”

Your stare is long. 

Because he looks ready to fight. 

Or ready to just leave and find someone else to continue the date with, you don’t know for sure. Do you have a bias on which one it’d rather be? Yeah. But you’re so thrown off by that stupid ass call. 

Sighing, you fiddle with the posh tablecloth before clearing your throat. “So.. What were you gonna tell me?”

More hesitation from across the table. But you expect it, so it hurts less. “There’s a new dance I wanna learn.”

Oh? 

Immediately, your shoulders relax a tad. You didn’t think he’d talk about one of his hobbies. Truthfully, you assumed Jungkook would mention something about his car or gloat about only working when he wants to. 

This is a welcoming twist. And one you can somewhat follow since you know about his steadily growing account and dance skill. “Which one? Show me.” 

“Yeah?” Sparkling, your roommate takes out his phone, swiping away notifications—a lot of notifications—before thumbing through. “Hold on, lemme find one.” 

You look around, seeing that some people here are elders and anticipating their disgust when Jungkook inevitably plays the video out loud. 

“Here.” 

Doing exactly what you thought, he shows a dance to a popular song that you’ve heard before. Is this why you’re hearing it everywhere? Whatever it is, it looks more complicated than the ones he’s posted before. 

But knowing he picks stuff up quick, you figure he’ll have it down by tomorrow. So the only logical step is to tease him and test his memory, “Bet you can’t learn it by the time we finish.” 

“Our date?” 

“Our food.” 

Jungkook gawks. “But we’re almost done!” 

“So? You can do it.” 

“What do I get?” 

“I’ll pay for dessert.” 

“Done. Have fun paying, I’m getting everything.” 

When he watches the video, you press a hand over his phone just as he tries to block the swipe. And you fight hard to not react to his fingers covering yours. “No cheating.” 

“What!” 

Sliding your hand away, your voice gets more stern to hide your heartbeats. “Gotta make it hard somehow.”

His cheeky eyebrow tick snatches your breath before he goads, “I’m listening...” 

He’s listening? What did you… Oh. He’s a problem. Blowing off his innuendo, you roll your eyes. “Whatever, you get what I mean.”

More notifs slide onto his phone, and you hum while Jungkook swipes them away in groups. “Fine. But you’re gonna record me and watch me win.” 

“Done.” 

During the rest of the meal—which prolongs from both of you still ordering—you can tell he’s committed, his body subtly doing the moves as he mouths the lyrics. “You’re trying the dance, huh.” 

“Shh.” 

The night goes on, and the restaurant fills closer and closer to the brim. It’s after the ninety minute mark that you notice just how many people know your roommate. At least, people in a place like this. 

Girls keep coming to visit. But not all of them are hostile or rude—most of them are actually really sweet. Some people invite him to places, others remind him to be somewhere. One very handsome guy even asks if he’s going to some pre-release party tomorrow. 

“That’s tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, dude. Open the group chat once in awhile.”

After Jungkook laughs and jokes along with the guy a little more, he watches him say bye to you before leaving with his own date. 

You’re left amazed, eyeing him signing the bill you know is massive. “Damn.. how many people do you know in this town?” 

“Uhhh…” He scratches his neck. “Don’t be surprised if this keeps happening.”

“Super.” 

And he dons that same uneasy look in his eyes.

You come to the conclusion that you don’t enjoy it. 

When another group of people approach the table, Jungkook subtly changes up the way he converses. Instead of just talking to them, he fully introduces you and even mentions what you do for a living. 

And this little change causes a beat inside your chest. 

As you’re about to answer one of their questions, your phone buzzes again. And it’s yet another thing that you have to pick up. 

Fucking hell, why is all of this happening tonight? 

So caught up in inner turmoil, you don’t realize how everyone’s looking at you as you hastily stand. And when you quickly apologize and excuse yourself, you hate how you catch Jungkook’s eyes right before leaving. 

This time? He looks downright upset. 

Shit, you can’t handle all of this right now. You know you’re definitely gonna be talked about as soon as you’re out of earshot but it’s too late to recover. 

So you rush away yet again.

That call doesn’t take long, but it’s still just as terrible to go through. Now you’re really just ready to cut the night short. 

“Who keeps calling you? You okay?”

“No one you know,” you sigh, a bit shocked that Jungkook even asked that second question. “But don’t worry about it. Let’s go home.”

“Home? Not dessert?”

You eye him again.

Damn it. He looks like a puppy that is determined to be adopted, and you know you can’t shake that image from your mind the rest of the night. 

Because yes. You do want to go home. You want to go home, shower, and dive into bed because no, you are not okay.

But after double checking your maps, you make a decision. For your self-proclaimed date and for yourself. 

“There’s a parking garage nearby,” you surrender as you stand. “Go park at the top.” 

The night sky looks a lot different from this height. Which doesn’t say too much because of all the city lights, but at least you have less obstruction to that vast dark ocean. 

As prominent stars shine above, you lose any previous thoughts, palms curled and resting against the warm top of Jungkook’s car. 

If only you could swim across those mingling blues. Weightless. No stressors or toxins entering your life, only flowing out and dissipating amongst planets and moons. A stellar massage; an out of this world escape. 

“Why are we up here?”

Your sigh is slow on the release. “To see if you earned dessert or not.”

When you look his way, Jungkook’s eyes twinkle brighter than stars, which is all you needed to validate your impromptu decision to come. 

Another olive branch. 

But your roommate slowly rounding his car makes your thoughts slip off the damn track. The rooftop lights contour his features just right, and when he leans right next to your arm, your ability to steer back in your lane vanishes. 

“Didn’t think you were this invested,” he hums.

To which you slowly cut back, “I kinda just wanna see you lose.”

Jungkook’s teeth bite a corner of amused lips in response, and it’s the most tempting he’s looked the entire night. Fuck you need to look away he cannot do that ever again.

“Record me then.”

Why the fuck did his voice get so low!

Turning back, you slide your hands off the car—certainly not because they’re shaking. “Gimme your phone.” 

The proximity has been getting to you. But Jungkook’s sudden hesitation breaks whatever spell he just casted. 

Makes sense. He was very quick to swipe away any notifications that you may have seen. Privacy or whatever he’s afraid of, you’re gonna stay wary of what could be in that thing. 

But to your utter shock, Jungkook has his whole screen in view while he swipes into quick settings to turn on Do Not Disturb. And he hands it over while his words come out small, 

“All yours.”

Static flits in the air as you slowly take it, watching him observe your expression and realizing he’s giving up a lot with this one gesture. 

And you don’t know what possesses you to do this, but you pocket his phone in your hoodie pouch before taking your own device out to silence, as well.

Although worried, you sacrifice this tiny moment of time to give him the same courtesy. It’s only gonna take him two tries maximum, right? You won’t miss anything in those sixty seconds. This is just an equivalent exchange. 

“And yours,” you murmur, handing him your phone to keep, too.  

It shouldn’t mean much. Honestly, it shouldn’t mean anything. 

But the way Jungkook looks at you? I feels like no one else exists anymore. Your universe has shrunken to two, and the way one of you is inching forward it feels like you’re about to be k—

“You shouldn’t have done that,” is all the warning you get before Jungkook speeds off.

Speeds off? What the actual fuck!

“Are you fucking serious!” you call out as you chase him across empty parking spaces, watching his hair bounce with his swooping laughs as he’s… raising your phone above his head? “Jungkook, I swear to god—”

His laughter continues as he keeps running, and you quickly run out of breath but you push forward because what the fuck is he doing with your phone? Is he checking every notification you didn’t swipe away or checking your call history or—

A whoosh of breath flies out as you run right into his laughs, and you’re grabbing at his jacket and yelling until you notice that he’s…

Recording? 

Jungkook was just filming himself running away?

“Ah, you’re faster than I thought,” he grins to your camera. “Thought you’d be a turtle.” 

“Kook!”

“Come here, turtle,” he says before wrapping a quick arm around you. Asking right to the camera, he continues, “Where’d you learn to be so fast?”

You outright frown at the lens. “I am not a turtle.”

Jungkook bursts into laughter again. “Ah, what are you then,” he asks again, watching himself on your screen while you perpetually pout. “A sloth? A snail?”

“Annoyed.”

“That’s not an animal!”

“Give me my phone!” You spring into action, leaping for your device as he stretches away while laughing even harder. Your body fully smushes into his in your pursuit, and while your arms are sailing through the air your heart is leaping into the clouds. 

It’s always been obvious your roommate is rock solid but holy fuck. 

Don’t give up now. You’re grabbing his leather sleeves and he’s chortling all throughout your struggle. But you think you can get it if you just— 

“Wait, wait!” Jungkook stumbles from your full weight jumping forward, and he attempts to stay upright but suddenly you’re rushing towards the ground in a full fall oh shit! “Fuck—!”

You fully expect pain shooting through your hands, or your hips, or your elbow, brain rushing through ideas on how to fall properly—

But all you feel is the plush yet solid force of Jungkook’s front, held together in a leather layer as you both shoot out groans on impact. And all you can get out is a tiny, 

“Ow.” 

“You okay?” 

A lot of things are competing for your realization. Like the way Jungkook is between your body and concrete, and the way he’s the one looking at you in concern. 

Not to mention the hand fully pressing you against his front. 

Oh no no no, you’re getting flushed just thinking about how he feels. Or how he saved you from any injury. You can already imagine how it’s gonna sound in the video playback when you squeak, but you’re so embarrassed that you just want it over with. “Why’d you do that?”

“Me? You’re the one that jumped me!” 

“You could’ve just given me my phone.” 

“That’s too easy.” 

Shit, you need to get up. His eyes are shimmering and he looks way too happy for a guy that just broke your entire fall. When you try to push off, you’re quickly held a little bit tighter. 

And your brain skids to a halt as you look at his cocked brow. 

“Say sorry first.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” he quips. “Say sorry and I let you go.” 

Ah. If only it was always that easy. 

Pursing your lips, you glare. “I’m sorry for giving you my—Kook!”

He laughs at your miserable attempt to escape his tickling, correcting you in sing-song as you squirm. “You gotta mean it, babe.” 

Immediately, you stop. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Why not?” 

You don’t really have an answer. But giving guys a general look of annoyance is usually enough to convince them. So you pull out your last hope. 

“Okay, okay,” he concedes, reluctantly peeling his fingers off your side and letting you stand. “I won’t say it for now.” 

Once you get off of him, you feel a little strange. The same feeling from your handholding earlier comes back in full force, but you do your best to shove it away. 

You don’t need that right now. This is just an experiment, so not even lying on top of your roommate can get to you. 

While dusting yourself, you miss the chance to give Jungkook a hand. So you’re silent as he shows you your phone—the video stopped and your screen black. “That okay?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though you don’t know what for. “We can record now.”

You huff as he unlocks your device with your face, and you debate pouncing again before he reassures, 

“Just pulling up the song. Damn, your screens are organized!”

You don’t acknowledge his compliment but watch him pull up the right app. And you let him play the song on loop in his pocket before relaxing. 

“Okay, you can start. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“K.”

Through his screen, you watch Jungkook slowly jog into frame until he’s a good distance away. Already knows exactly how far to be, you muse, wondering just how often he really does these videos. 

And he preps because he knows the challenge part is coming, so you steady your hand and watch in amazement as he really does know all the moves. 

But you’re feeling a little cheeky. And a little in the mood for revenge. 

So you wait until he’s fully done with the dance to tell him you weren’t recording, which makes him groan, 

“Really!”

“Looks like you gotta do it all again,” you shrug with mock-pity. 

So he plays the song from your phone again while you wait, and once again, Jungkook is a skilled… dancer… 

A message banner from a name you vaguely recognize slides onto his screen, which throws you off because you literally saw him put it on DND. 

Wait. If Jungkook still gets her messages in this mode, then…

You realize what that could mean, and it kinda throws you off because you feel like you intruded on something you didn’t mean to. 

Damn. 

“How’d that one look!”

Shit! You were so thrown you didn’t even watch him! “Uhh.. Do it again,” you tell him, trying hard to hide the hitch in your voice. “You can do better.”

“Well, damn!” This guy’s smile really isn’t fair, even from far away. “At least you’re honest.”

Yeah. Right. 

When Jungkook does it again, no notifications show up and you watch him diligently this time. 

It’s perfect. Exactly how you thought it’d be. 

“That one was the best one,” he chirps, jogging over to take his phone and have you both watch it again. Looking at you with a lopsided curve, he boasts, “I win.”

“Fine, fine,” you admit with a fake grin. “Maybe I’m the one that wanted dessert this whole time.” 

He laughs. “Do it with me.” 

Do what? The dance? Absolutely not. “Me? Hell no.” 

“Why not!” 

“I would look like a fool! No.” 

A hand juts out to pull you just as you try to scurry away. “Nah, come on! I’ll show you, come here.” 

Ugh. You hate how he’s truly just vibing, taking you along for the ride. 

But in a last show of grace, you allow yourself to give in. Focusing on anything else besides those phone calls—and that notification—could be good anyway. 

So you stand next to your awaiting date, nodding for him to get on with it and teach. 

Grinning, Jungkook shows you simple moves and you somewhat get them. Something with your feet here, another move with your arms there. It’s a bit shaky at first and you have to keep watching him dance, but you have to admit you’re doing better than expected. 

But there’s a move with your hips that you can’t quite get, and you feel stiff as hell. Honestly, you’re not even mad at your dance partner for laughing because you know you look silly. “Give me a break,” you shout with a laugh, to which he chuckles harder. “You know this one is hard.” 

So, in very Jungkook fashion, your roommate comes over to steady his hands on your hips. “Here,” he says in a whisper, “I got you.”  

And you scoff out a laugh. “Oh. I see.” 

In full teacher mode, he asks in shock, “Wait, you got it already?” 

“No, like”—you shake your head—“I see why you did this.” 

Jungkook pauses before chuckling, smug whispers flowing into your ear, “Is it working?” 

Huh. Just like his boldness from before, you’re liking this side of him. The one that’s just going for it, whatever the challenge may be. 

Turning slightly, you catch his features in your peripheral. “What if it wasn’t?” 

Slowly, Jungkook’s grip gets a little tighter as he leans in, one of his hands sliding up just enough for his thumb to slip under your hoodie. When he asks again, his tone lowers an octave, one you haven’t ever heard this close, “This better?” 

The text, the text, the text. 

You breathe hard, swallowing before stepping far out of his embrace and sputtering, “I think I got it! No practice needed.” 

He switches demeanor immediately. “Oh? So we can record now?” 

“What.”

Jungkook half runs to the nearest concrete railing to prop his phone, grappling your wrist before you can scurry out of frame. “Just try it! Play the song on your phone.” 

God. You were only gonna learn the dance, not be recorded! This is way too much embarrassment for the night. 

As the video records, you’re so adamantly against it that you stand in full grump mode, your dance partner only stopping when he sees you not doing it.

You kinda enjoy his pout. “Hey!”

“I can’t!” 

Again with those eyes. No wonder this man gets whatever the fuck he wants whenever someone comes over. “Just once.” 

Your arms cross you like a shield. “If it’s horrible, you’re deleting it.” 

“Fine.”

You give him another look, but he’s not budging. At all. 

So you slump in defeat and prep for the worst. 

The video records again, and you move through the steps, knowing your memory helps you even though your muscles can’t quite do everything accurately. Honestly, you’re a bit proud you can get through the dance wait why are you dancing solo!

Freezing, you turn to Jungkook watching you with a dropped jaw. “What now?” 

Excited eyes crease as he points to your feet. “You did the moves!” 

“Wasn’t I supposed to?” 

“Yeah, but”—his amusement peppers the night with color—“I didn’t expect that.” 

“You told me to!” 

He laughs again before running excitedly to his phone, and you are so confused. But you feel a little accomplished that you surprised him, and he then tells you to record him one more time. “I can’t lose to you.” 

And when you watch him finish the dance, you lock eyes with him over his phone. 

That was the best he’s ever danced for a video and you both know it. 

When he proudly holds his device on the way back to the car, you quietly smile as he decrees, “I’m posting this tomorrow.” 

“Why not now?” 

“Wanna edit first.” 

You give the sky one more look. “Oh. I thought time mattered or something.” 

“Huh? I don’t care about the time. I just post whenever.” 

“Sounds right.” 

At least the time you’ve been spending on the parking garage is nice. Looks like the change in location has been a nice distraction from—

Great. Another fucking call. 

Both of you glance down at your phone, and you quickly bring it up to your ear to hide the caller ID, wincing at his forlorn look before you motion your exit. 

“Do you really have to—”

When the caller starts to talk, you make one stride before your elbow is softly grabbed. 

And when you give Jungkook a desperate shake of your head, he pinches his brows before letting you go. 

God, your roommate looks so lost in his car. 

The breeze stings as you walk back, and your heart tugs a little when Jungkook starts driving over as soon as he sees you’re done. 

Just get through this last part of the night. One more stop and then you can both end this pitiful charade of a date. 

You’re about to reach for your door when Jungkook pops out of his side. “I got it.” 

Oh. That’s nice of him. “You don’t have to—”

“Am I keeping you from something?” 

Stilling, you watch as he stops at your side, car exhaust hitting your nose as his car runs. “No, no, it’s…” 

Jungkook watches you peter off, his face falling hard enough to make you regretful. When he looks at the ground, your chest caves. “We can just go home.” 

“What? No. You won the bet, I don’t need pity.” You know it’s sour but you’re stressed and losing this one good thing will make it a thousand times worse. “Sorry.” 

“We don’t have to go.” 

“Dude, it’s fine.” 

“I don’t want it anymore.” 

Well. Shit. 

Way to be the first person in the universe to ruin a good time with Jeon Jungkook. A good night, no less. What’s the prize? Feeling like absolute garbage. 

This guy took you to the nicest place in town, defended you against stuck-up assholes, and even broke your fall on concrete. What the fuck have you been doing the whole night? Those olive branches don’t mean shit if you’re gonna take them away, too. 

Sighing, you muster the courage to put on a brave front. Offering one last, genuine invitation, you compromise, “Then let’s do the dance one more time.” 

“It’s okay.” 

Fuck, that hurts like hell, but don’t give up. Stop being a total asshole. 

Gathering even more courage, you reach out to lift his beautiful chin. “Look at me.” When he does in silence, you finally apologize, “I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve told you these calls might happen but I didn’t even.. I didn’t even think about it.” 

“They’re making you miserable,” he accurately summarizes. “And you won’t tell me who's doing this to you.” 

Soul breaking, you stare at the ground. “I’ll tell you if I really need to, Kook, but.. Not right now.” 

“Why?” 

Many, many reasons. But you’ll spare him the time and misery when you swipe at nothing on his jacket. “Because I can handle them on my own for now.” 

There’s a beat of silence followed by another. But it’s not as awkward as they had been throughout the night. This one feels much lighter, like your apology lifted the brick of stress pushing down on you until now. 

Is that because Jungkook’s now offering to help you carry it? “I’m here, you know,” he starts, his turn to hold your chin. “Even if we aren’t dating, I got you. Okay?” 

Smiling the tiniest you can manage, you wait until his hand is back at his side. “Are you gonna tell me that’s what roommates are for?” 

When Jungkook starts to grin, you let yours spread a little wider. “Something like that.” 

Okay. You can do this. 

He’s just your roommate and this is just a date. You’ve been letting life beat your ass the whole time you could’ve been leaning into this whole thing, and that sucks. 

But even though you can’t change the past, you can change what happens now. 

So you let yourself laugh when he does, and you give him one more chance to embarrass you. “Are we doing this dance again or going back home so I can finally sleep in peace?”

“In peace?” His dropped jaw makes you giggle. “Nah, we’re definitely recording again.” 

This time, you both stand a little closer so you can fully be in frame. And it takes a few tries—one solely because Jungkook purposely moves to cover you, making you shove his laughing ass out of the way—but eventually you do get a decent take. 

After watching it over in the car a few minutes later, you’re so impressed that you even want him to send you the video. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m sending all of them.” 

“What, why?” 

His eyes shine way too bright as he starts descending through the parking levels. “So that they live in our message thread forever.” 

“You sneaky bi—wait, this is my song!” Your hand is already jutting out to turn up the volume before Jungkook can react, already forgetting what you were yelling about to break into an upbeat rendition of an old classic. 

“Wait, I wanted to—”

“Too bad! This is my shit.” 

When you start to sing, Jungkook can only watch before grinning at his windshield, joining in until you’re both belting everything out, “We’re in heaven…” 

Letting your window down, you scream lyrics out into the empty garage, barely hearing Jungkook cackling at your side. 

For a moment, you feel free. Music up, breeze through the windows, and the prettiest singing voice by your side hitting every note in the book. 

If only you could both do this forever. 

After a much livelier car ride than the first, you’re both walking to your door, sharing a look and knowing exactly what the tiny laughs are about. 

Who goes back to the same home after a first date? 

As he opens the door for you, a thanks slips from your lips before your shoes slide off your feet. And while the door closes with a click, your mind goes over the whole night like a sped-up tape. 

Prank or not, bet or not, it ended up being fun. You hope the same for your roommate, though you’re truly expecting him to confess and say he’s done pretending. So he can get on with his life and seeing other people like that girl. 

Your ribcage jostles. 

“Thanks for dinner,” you murmur as he finishes taking off his boots. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

When Jungkook straightens, he gives you a lopsided smile. “Good,” he responds before flicking his bangs out the way. “But no taking calls next time.” 

Wait. After all your bullshit today, there’s still a next time? “Uh, I don’t know when I’d be able to—” 

“Trust me. This one you’ll like.” 

Rip the bandaid off. Just do it before things go where they shouldn’t. He’s already starting to say what’s in store for tomorrow but you can’t even entertain it because of what you saw. “I don’t think this will work.” 

Caught mid-sentence, Jungkook snaps his mouth shut before tilting his head. “Huh? You didn’t have a good time?” 

Damn it. Why is he still only asking about your experience? Didn’t he have to sit through all your absences? This is already getting too hard to break off and that’s not a good sign. “No, I did. I meant the whole, umm. Ten days thing.” 

“Because you’re already convinced?” 

“Because we live together, dummy,” you remind him, walking into the hall before he blocks your path. Pulling excuses out of your ass, you continue, “At least I get to have time away from other people I date. Not keep seeing them in their underwear.” 

“You like it.” 

You tsk. 

“It’ll be fine!” 

Arms folded, you pin him with a glare. “You bring girls over like four times a week.” 

“Why would I right now? I’m with you.” 

Something about that makes your heart pulse a little faster. But you can’t. You can’t do this when you know something you shouldn’t. Or maybe something you should, since it’s pretty damn important? “And no one else?”

“No one else,” Jungkook immediately answers. Which is weird considering what you accidentally saw earlier. If he’s flat out lying, you really can’t do anything else with him anytime soon. 

“Are you sure, because…” You sigh before looking down at his pocketed phone. 

Say it. Say exactly what’s on your mind because this isn’t some drama where communication is somehow last on the list of priorities. Real people talk it out, so talk it out. “Look. I kinda, umm. Saw someone text you when I was recording.”

You watch his expression change a tiny, tiny bit. But it’s enough to warrant your decision, “If you’re already seeing someone, I don’t wanna—”

“Who?”

You blink. “Uhhh.. Kyla? Kira?”

Your roommate suddenly starts to grin lopsided. “Kala? She’s my friend from like, second grade. We still game together.”  

“Oh.” Well. That was a lot easier to talk about than you expected. “I just thought… Yeah.”

The way he softens while looking at you makes you feel both dizzy and a little shy. You would pay a significant amount to know what he’s thinking right now, despite the troubles hitting you all through the night. 

“So cute.”

Ah. Never mind. “It’s not cute,” you huff. “Just being reasonable.”

“Yeah. Cute.” 

But he breaks contact to take out his phone and messes with it for a bit. When he clicks it to lock, he holds it up in a slight wiggle. “There.” 

Your head tilts before he explains,

“Yours come through now, too.” 

Breath caught, your whole body seems to buzz. The air around your hoodie starts shifting and heating, and your question leaves in a shocked whisper, “You’re taking this seriously.. aren’t you.”

Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. “Yeah.”

Why the hell is he trying so hard? For you of all people? 

Last time you checked, the two of you are friends but it’s never been more than that. What’s gotten into him in the last month or so? Did something happen that you missed completely? 

Because if this isn’t some big joke... is this energy around you what you think it is? This chemistry molding into something scary and exciting all at once? It’s terrifying you because, if this is something he wants for real, you may take things further than they’ve ever gone.  

But the spark dissipates when Jungkook looks away. Eyes a little lowered, he asks, 

“It’s just ten days, right?”

Ah. Of course. He’s just competitive, that’s all. 

Smiling tight while you lift your nose, you hum. “Seven.” 

“Too easy.” Jungkook then stops to look at the ground. “It’d be easier if you didn’t keep walking off, though.” 

He got you there. You really don’t have any excuses other than your much lower level of effort. “I… Yeah. Life is really… I’m sorry.” 

You don’t want to tell him just yet. Especially since the night had quite the lovely ending. “But honestly, I really thought you were just doing all this to mess with me.”

“Well, I’m not.” Shucking his jacket off shoulders that haunt you, your roommate steps aside to let you finally pass. 

And reminds you about the motherfucking tank underneath fuck—

“Besides.” 

You blink at the hand on your arm. 

“I can mess with you any day.”

Oh? Bold once again. Attractive once again. But you aren’t gonna let him have just anything he wants. At least, not without seeing how far he’s willing to go. “Not if I don’t let you.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” You lift your chin. “You don’t scare me.”

Stepping in front of you, he gets so close there’s no space between your front and his protruding pecs. “Even like this?”

You try not to show your swallow. “Uh huh.”

When he leans in, you do your best not to react when he rasps out, “And this?”

Another gulp.  “D… Duh.” 

But you’re pretty sure he hears that one because he gravitates to your neck. So close that you can feel his breath on your throat, cologne wrapping you up in wild thoughts and even wilder decisions. “But not this, right?”

Say no, say yes, say no no no. “...No.”

Then. Just when you thought he couldn’t get any cheekier. His lips brush right against your neck as he asks his last question,

“Here then.”

Your flinch and dip out of his way is so quick that you don’t even realize you moved, and his laughs paint the hallway with mirth at your expense.

A hand slaps over the very spot he touched. “Kook!”

“What?”

That felt way too good but came out of nowhere. Feelings are creeping into places they really shouldn’t, and you’re so caught off-guard that your lips flap but don’t do much else. “You… you can’t just…I—”

“Relax,” he giggles. “I wasn’t gonna do anything else.”

Snapping back to reality, you bring yourself to express what’s really on your mind. “Just saying,” you huff, walking off. “You should still ask..”

“Wait, wait!” 

You turn, not anticipating the next thing out of his mouth.  

“You’re right,” he breathes out as he skids. “I’m sorry.” 

Relieved he didn’t take what you asked for as joke, you allow yourself to relax again. 

But of course, with Jeon Jungkook, there’s always more. “Can I do one more thing?” 

“What.” 

“Lemme do what I always do after dates.” 

Deadpanning, you drone, “We’re not having se—” 

“It’s not that.” Pinning him with disbelief, you watch him smile. “Not this time, anyway.” 

Another roll of your eyes. 

“Just trust me.” 

“Fine.” 

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom door, and you try your hardest not to bunch your shoulders. 

But something interesting happens that makes you more curious than anything else.

Jungkook stops when you get to your entrance, and he turns to just stare at your face. So calm, and so quiet. 

You don’t quite know what you look like right now, but the way he smirks before going in for a kiss gives you.. an.. idea.. 

He kisses your cheek? 

When he pulls away, his eyes sparkle as you question so bluntly he laughs, “That’s it?” 

“Told you,” he reiterates through a sly grin. “Why?” 

“I mean..”

He chuckles before leaning in slow. “I mean if you insist—” 

Immediately stopping his playful ways, you panic, “Wait, I mean—I just—” 

“Dinner and a kiss is all it takes to win, huh?”

“No, that’s not..” God, he is not funny right now! “One more wouldn’t hurt. I wasn’t ready.” 

By the way Jungkook freezes, you’d think he had turned to stone. But on second glance, he’s just watching for any hesitation or lie in your words, so when he finds none he leans back in.

The second kiss is just as light and innocent as the first. 

But this time, he doesn’t move as you swivel your face to watch, mouths so close and noses softly bumping. 

And the universe shrinks once again. Your belly twists with trembling butterflies and Jungkook’s cologne has clung to him so nicely and your calls have you wound tight and you really just need a distraction so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just—

“Go to sleep, roomie,” he whispers with a deadly smirk, moving away before you can even respond. “You gotta get up early.”

Oh. Why did your heart just scream? “Right… I do.”

“Good night.”

“Good night…”

Before you can snap out of it, Jungkook is already walking away. 

After everything you did tonight, he still stayed. Still had fun. And even did more than he needed to for you despite being left alone at every turn. 

…And quite honestly? “Kook?”

He turns. 

Fuck this fake dating game, fuck the bullshit you’ve been dealt tonight. “Was that really how you wanted to kiss me?”

Jungkook pauses in the hall, jacket dangling from his fist. “Fuck no.”

You swallow as your breath turns shallow. Thinking too hard about all the shit you’re gonna go through soon, you let loose just this once. 

“Then show me.”

Leather abandoned on wooden floorboards, your friend, your roommate, your enormous new problem returns with a purpose, gripping your head in his hands and—

Fuck, he’s a great kisser. Your lips connect and it’s lights out, flashing through your veins and speeding down your limbs. Rushed and impatient, his hands slide all over your arms, running up back to your neck to hold it tight. 

“You taste so fucking nice.” 

Your reply is devoured, his grip strong but not crushing, tongue sliding along your plush like it’s nothing. 

Yes, yes, yes. This is exactly what you needed all along. Nothing occupies your mind other than thoughts so dirty Jungkook would never let you live them down. 

Suddenly, you’re delightfully shoved against your door, groan spewing into his lips as you grapple for his bare arms. If he’s chuckling, you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can think about is how fucking good this feels. 

And how fucking wrong it is. 

Maybe that’s what adds to the thrill. The knowledge that roommates should never jump into this, no matter how electric things can get. 

But fuck it. 

Maddeningly, though, Jungkook keeps his hands just within boundaries, which surprises you and yet irks the monster in you all the same. When he shifts his lips, the kiss deepens, and your eyes shut even tighter as something taut and muscular shoves between your legs. 

Fuck, this feels good. Too good. Borderline forbidden and stepping across way too many lines but you can’t fucking stop. 

“Careful, babe,” you hear him coo. “Keep going and we’re fucking all week.” 

What? What did he just say what are you doing to make him… 

Holy fuck, were you humping his leg? 

“Oh, shit,” you gasp, breaking away and holding him at arm’s length. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even—” Air immediately washes over your heated cheeks and into your desperate lungs, and you have to fight to catch your beating breaths. “Something just happened, I—”

And looking down does you no favors because there is a very, very obvious bulge in your roommate’s pants oh god what did you do? 

Your wrists are held by calm hands as Jungkook peels you off his shoulders. When he leans forward, your body’s caged in by his sheer size alone. 

“Thanks for the dessert, roomie,” he simply whispers to your lips, swiping a finger across your nose before backing up to go to his room. “See you tomorrow.”

And just like that, you’re left alone in the hallway, mind swirling and swirling.

Well. When you invited him to make a move, you expected to be charmed because it’s him. 

But out of all the goddamn outcomes, you didn’t expect anything like that.

A hand slides up to grab the spot above your beating, pulsing, racing heart.

These seven days are gonna age you an eternity.

-

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tbc. :)

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🦋 ahhh how do we feel !! | wanna be tagged? 🦋

A/N: we're in heaven... OHHHH HO HO we are in it now!!! good god the amount of things in store for these two... honestly it's gonna be a good ass fun ass tiring ass ride hahaha. hope everyone is ready! A/N 2: second part is in the works and uhh, remember what i said before? the spice levels are basically gonna jump from 0 to 100? yeah that's gonna happen again lmfaooo these two are quickly jumping up my favorites list asapppp🦋  ++ feedback box (new!): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 

[mister0ctopus]

Server Room (5)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary:  Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 4.8K

a/n: we’re back, baby!! lol🥳 sooo sorry for the delay, but we’re picking things up from here on out. thanks for waiting! hope you enjoy this chapter! and pleaaaseee drop your thoughts, feedback, ideas, anything hehe, whatever’s on your mind! hearing from you is the BEST part of this whole journey. i love reading your thoughts, my dear fwendsss!! 🤍✨

🐙 Masterlist / Thoughts?Asks?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

Fuck, you’re wet.

Your feet, obviously—soaking and ice-cold. And then there’s the tapping on the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Like when you were a kid, sitting in an exam hall, drumming your pen against the desk. Your mind blank, and the answers wouldn't come, even though you’d studied all night.

Failure looming.

At the test. At being a daughter.

You hate that sound. That insufferable, rhythmic tapping.

And it’s getting closer.

And louder.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You wake up.

Your eyes blink against the darkness, adjusting slowly. The room is quiet, except for the steady, insistent rain. Moonlight spills through the window, drawing your gaze to the slight opening.

Oh. That’s why….

The rain has slipped in, dampening the edge of your bed.

You sit up quickly, shivering as you get up from bed, feet meeting the cool floor. The window creaks as you close it gently until you hear a soft click. You rub your arms for warmth as you switch on the night lamp. And that’s when you notice her—Allie, curled comfortably under blankets on her bed, snoring softly.

Wait… when did she get here?

Everyone was in the cottage when you left for the cabin to shower. And then, well… you passed out after coming too hard.

Your gaze flickers to the brush on your bed, and your cheeks flush.

How long have you been asleep?

You press your fingers against your temples, trying to piece things together. The cabin is now still—no voices, no laughter, no footsteps. A stark contrast to the chaos and loudness from your drunk friends earlier. 

Just rain. Just the lake, its waves lapping softly against the shore.

Then, the ache in your stomach makes itself known. 

Right. 

You barely ate at dinner, thinking you’d feast later while hanging out. But you didn’t—because you had… other things to take care of.

You glance down—oversized shirt, bare legs, only your panties.

With a sigh, you grab your pajama shorts, slip them on and head for the kitchen to hunt for food. 

The kitchen downstairs awaits, and right now, food is the only thing that matters.

The kitchen light is on when you step downstairs, casting a soft glow over the quiet house. The scent of perilla oil lingers in the air, minty, fresh, and inviting. Someone else is awake—someone who shares your late-night hunger.

You nearly stop, nearly, when you see who it is.

Jungkook.

He’s caught up in his own world, standing by the counter in the center of the kitchen, in matching brown short-sleeved pajamas. You can tell he was almost ready for bed before deciding on a midnight snack. He’s carefully separating the egg yolk from the whites, his teeth catching his bottom lip in concentration. You can’t help but snicker.

His head snaps up, eyes widening. He clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he states the obvious.

“Yeah, I got hungry,” you murmur, stepping off the last few stairs. Your feet are light against the floor as you move toward the counter, pretending not to notice the way he watches you approach.

“I’m making Makguksu Noodles. Wanna try?” he asks, wiping yolk from his fingers.

Your throat tightens as you watch the glossy residue of the egg whites coat his long fingers while he separates the yolk.

You don’t realize you haven’t answered until he’s already plating two portions. That’s when you notice—his pajamas are slightly sheer, just enough for you to see the black boxer shorts underneath. 

He glances at you just as you lower yourself onto the stool and the two of you move in silence. Him focused on mixing the noodles in the bowl, and you focused on not letting your eyes linger on how his shirt stretches over his muscles with every movement.

When the food is ready, he slides a plate toward you. You both eat quietly. Aside from a few stolen glances, you’re still groggy from your unexpectedly heavy nap. 

You don’t even realize you’ve been zoning out until Jungkook has to repeat himself. “Did you seriously nap that long?” he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah…” You blink, forcing yourself back to the present. “Didn’t even realize I fell asleep after showering. I was gonna head back to the cottage, but everyone was already sleeping when I woke up.”

Jungkook hums, his smirk still present, but his eyes stay locked on his empty plate, as if deliberating something. “Were you that tired?”

“Yeah…” You trail off as you push your plate away, trying to avoid his gaze.

A beat of silence.

“You took your time in the shower,” he says casually but his grip on his glass is a little too tight as he lifts it to his lips.

Oh.

“Hmm… I kinda did,” you admit. “Needed to cool off.”

Jungkook tilts his head slightly, studying you. “Did it work?”

The corner of his mouth twitches like he already knows the answer. Like he’s waiting for you to lie.

“A little,” you murmur, holding his gaze, daring him to push further.

Something shifts in the air between you. He takes his time clearing the plates, loading them in the dishwasher with unhurried movements. 

But that smug expression is still there, taunting you, making you curious.

And then, he turns and walks toward you, drying his hands with a paper towel, closing the distance. He stops directly in front of you, his hands bracing against the table as he leans in, only the table separating you now.

“Just a little?” He asks like he knows something.

“So you still need help, then?”

“Help with what?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to shield you from his assessing eyes.

Jungkook’s smirk deepens as he tosses the paper towel aside before he leans in just a fraction closer.

“Dunno,” he shrugs. “With anything.”

His eyes flicker down to your lips, then to your throat, then back up again, holding you in place.

“Anything?” you repeat.

He answers with a chuckle.

“I heard you, you know?” his voice is soft, but the words are sharp. “Earlier. In your room.

“What did you hear?”

“Everything” 

Oh…

His audacity is shocking, but you don't beat around the bush.

And this, he must know.

“Okay, well… oops? Caught me,” you giggle, trying to regain control. But you won’t let him have all the power.

“I saw you too... In the Server Room.”

A smirk.

No actually, a chuckle.

“I know,” he says simply, his voice low, his gaze sharp. “I saw you leave.”

“So, I guess now we’re even,” you chuckle. But you hold your head high, locking your gaze with his.

“Now we’re even,” he echoes, but there’s no humor in his tone.

“Was that your first time? Touching yourself… thinking about me?” you ask, your pulse quickening.

“Yes.” His voice drops lower, like a caress. “First time in the Server Room.”

Your breath catches, his honesty hitting you in your core, a heat pooling low in your belly.

"How about you?" He tilts his head, gaze heavy. "First time getting yourself off to the thought of me? Moaning my name like that?"

"In this cabin?" You drag it out, making him wait, reveling in the way his jaw clenches.

Then, finally, you answered. "Yeah."

A slow, satisfied exhale leaves his lips, and his tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. 

"Good. Where else?”

Audacious. Bold. You love it.

You lift a brow, feigning thoughtfulness, your voice above a whisper. "Mostly my bed."

His voice drops lower. "Mostly?"

Then, he moves closer, past the table. Closer to you. You’re still seated on the stool, and as you swivel to face him, he stays just where he is—so close, yet not touching. But the space between you is thin, too thin. You can smell his aftershave, the soft, clean scent of his fabric conditioner.

Silence stretches before you tilt your head with a smirk. "Want a list?"

"Uh-huh." His hum is low, amused… and then, he moves towards you, closer, grazing your knees.

You instinctively spread your legs for him, letting him in.

"Shower," you murmur, locking eyes with him.

"Where else?" His voice is rough, all patience hanging by a thread.

"Office bathroom." This time, your gaze drops to his lips.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut for a second. "Jesus." He exhales a chuckle, fingers playing with his lower lip, a habit you’ve seen before, one he resorts to when deep in thought.

But there’s no strategy to devise here, no puzzle to solve.

So why is he doing it now?

To ground himself. To pull back from the edge you’re so effortlessly pushing him toward.

That knowledge alone fills you with satisfaction. And the fact that he’s still trying to maintain composure? Still trying to outplay you?

Heat pools between your thighs, a wave of want surging through you. 

You love this game.

You don’t miss it— the way his throat bobs, the way his jaw flexes, the way his hand curls into a fist at his side.

"So," he exhales, "How good do I fuck you, then? Slow? Rough? Do I make you beg for it?"

You bite back a smile, fingertips playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Want me to show you?"

Jungkook tilts his head, tongue flicking against his teeth. "By all means," he murmurs, fingers curling beneath your chin, thumb tracing your bottom lip, slowly. "Please bless me with a demonstration."

You don’t hesitate.

You part your lips and take his thumb into your mouth slowly. Your tongue swirls around it. Teasing, tasting. Then, without breaking eye contact, you take his index and middle fingers past your lips, sucking them in—deep, slow, sinful. Noisily.

He hisses. His breath stutters. His jaw clenches.

You keep your gaze locked onto his, peeking up through your lashes. You see his pupils darken, his lips part ever so slightly. 

"You’d start by eating me out," you murmur around his fingers, releasing them with a loud pop.

"And once you're satisfied making me cum on your tongue…" 

You guide his hand down, past your lips, to your throat, down to your chest, lower, lower— until his fingers skim the waistband of your pajama shorts. Down, down.

“You’d stretch me out using your fingers, making it nice and wet just so you can shove your cock inside me, rough and deep, exactly how I need it."

He exhales sharply and his grip on your thighs tightens. His head drops, eyes slipping shut. 

"Yeah?" His fingers press against your panties, feeling your soaked core. "Then spread those pretty legs open for me then, lemme feel how wet I make you.”

You spread your legs a little further, and he slid over your slit, collecting wetness on his fingers. 

"Fuck." His voice is barely a whisper, wrecked. “Dripping.”

Your hips grind, seeking more. "Only when I think of you fucking me."

That does it.

Jungkook rips his hand away—leaving you cold and aching—only to grab your waist and haul you onto the counter.

His mouth crashes onto yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, shoving his tongue.

Like a starved man.

It happens so fast, your brain barely catches up.

"Oh, god," he groans into your mouth, voice low and pained. His two fingers slide back into your throbbing cunt.

You must’ve been very, very wet because the sound of your slick echoes in the kitchen as he slides his fingers in and out of you.

His lips trail down your neck—biting, sucking, teasing—while you cling to him, fisting his collar, legs around his thighs, dragging him closer.

You feel it—the tight coil inside you, building, tightening, twisting. And he knows. The way you clench and tighten around his fingers, the way your breath stutters, the way your body arches like a fucking offering.

His thumb flicks your clit, before circling it with purpose.

Your legs tremble, and you can't help but let out a desperate moan against his ear.

“Please, YN,” he rasps, his forehead pressing to yours, dark eyes locked onto your fucked-out expression. “Soak my fingers, baby. Lemme hear you.”

His pace quickens, and you cum against his hand, chasing, grinding, taking everything he’s giving you.

The orgasm crashes through you, your walls squeezing, soaking his fingers as wrecked little moans spill from your lips—

So he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Like that, drip all over my fucking hand.”

He grinds against you, his cock heavy and straining through his pajamas, as he keeps his fingers buried inside you, pumping slow, dragging it out until you’re trembling, gasping, overstimulated.

Jungkook smirks, dragging his slick fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean with his tongue.

“Sweeter than I imagined. Bet you taste even better on my tongue.” He groans, as he pulls his fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. 

“You’ll show me, yeah? How I eat this pussy.” His fingers slide back between your thighs, lips curling against your jaw, breath hot as he presses a filthy kiss to your neck. “How I fuck you, how I make you cum with my cock?”

You nod, your head still spinning from the high. Just as you were about to meet his lips—

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your heads snap toward the stairs.

Yoongi stands there, gaze unreadable.

There was a time when you were in love with Yoongi.

Actually, scratch that.

There was a time when you were in love with Yoongi.

There was a time when you thought you were in love with Yoongi.

Blame it on your father issues that any man who has provider vibes, keeps his word, and doesn’t raise his voice could make you fall in love as easily.

He radiated that quiet competence like he could fix your life while being gentle and that he knew what to do. 

So when you met him it was a no-brainer. You fell, and you fell hard.

The first time you met him at your first job post-college, he was this cold, quiet guy who looked like nothing could ever faze him. He was a senior in the office, and everyone held him in high regard for how he conducted himself—you know, competent, kept to himself. He barely smiled, rarely laughed—total ‘don’t talk to me unless it’s about work' vibes.

Your type.

But here’s the thing about Yoongi: the more time you spend with him, the more you start to notice the cracks. 

It started when you two often got teamed up for projects because you both consistently delivered solid results.

The way he’d smirk at your lame jokes when he thought you weren’t looking. How he’d quietly make sure you had everything you needed before a big presentation. How every time you’d screw up, he’d just shake his head while trying to hide a smirk, and say “it happens.”

It made you wonder what it took for someone to be that calm. How much chaos did he have to endure to become so gentle?

But those feelings weren’t nurtured. 

You were focused on chasing promotions, climbing up the corporate ladder in your sharp corporate OOTDs.

He was chasing some on-again, off-again college ex who was probably he had written songs or poems for. At first, hearing him talk about her felt like a stab to the heart. Stab and twist. 

You never really had the chance to confess to him. You’d been emotionally constipated for so long that expressing your feelings felt pathetic. So, you admired him from a distance and stayed grateful for his friendship.

Of course, you knew he saw you as a kid back then—fresh out of college, trying to navigate the concrete jungle of the corporate world, pretending you had it all figured out. Taking on heavy tasks fueled by sheer grit and unrelenting feminine rage. 

You always felt like you had something to prove. Every second of every day.

Just a bad habit drilled into you as a child, growing up in a suffocatingly traditional and overly religious household where women belonged in the kitchen and childbirth, while incompetent men labored under the illusion that they owned the world.

So you did the one thing they never saw coming—you used education to prove them wrong.

You showed them what excellence truly means.

And oh, you fucking did.

Summa cum laude. A job at a well-known company. Every achievement a middle finger to the system that tried to cage you.

You fucking did.

But at what cost? Nothing.

Excellence costs nothing.

Just anxiety, fear of failure, loneliness.

But Yoongi, for some reason, saw through you.

He silently looked after you, offering sound advice about your career and life, a quiet pillar of support when you needed it most. He never overstepped, never judged you for your mistakes. And he always acknowledged your strengths in that matter-of-fact way of his, like it was simply the truth.

And in return, you found yourself standing taller, speaking louder, growing more confident in how you faced the world.

Over time, you came to realize your feelings weren’t romantic.

Yes, you love Yoongi, but not in that way.

He was your safe space, the only male figure you felt secure with before meeting Jimin and Tae. To be truthful, he filled the void your father—or any other male figure in your life—never occupied.

Now, five seconds—maybe five minutes—of silence.

Because that’s what it feels like. 

Yoongi and Jungkook staring at each other.

You staring at the two of them.

One doesn’t have to be a genius to figure out what’s happening. Jungkook is standing between your legs, his mouth still hot against your neck, while you cling to him. Good thing your back is to the stairs—Yoongi can’t see where Jungkook’s hands are.

Not that you care about being seen. Your sex life is nobody’s business.

It’s just Yoongi.

But also… it’s Yoongi.

It’s like an older brother catching his best friend making out with his sister.

You jumped down from the table just as Jungkook jerked away, putting space between you.

“Hyung.” His voice is neutral, casual. But his eyes track Yoongi carefully.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything.

Just walks over to the sink, grabs a glass, and fills it with water. His movements are slow, but something feels off.

You can’t read him. Normally, you can. But now? His expression is different. He’s too…blank.

The sound of running water fills the silence as he fills a glass and takes a slow sip. 

“I was just getting water,” His tone is flat, almost dismissive. 

Then, without looking at either of you, he turns toward the stairs, glass still in hand.

He’s halfway up when he pauses.

And then—he looks at Jungkook.

“Couldn’t you at least pick somewhere private?” 

He is too calm and it’s weird.

“What’s private?” Jimin’s voice suddenly breaks through the tension as he climbs down the stairs, hair a mess, blinking sleepily.

Yoongi doesn’t even look at him. He just keeps walking upstairs, the sound of his footsteps fading.

Jimin glances between you and Jungkook, confused. “What was that?”

No one answers.

Jungkook finally looks at you, biting the ring on his lips.

Jimin sighs, completely oblivious. “Okay…? Anyway, do you guys know where the bucket is? Taehyung’s too wasted and puking his guts out. He also clogged the toilet, idiot.”

He’s still waiting, but the air feels too thick with something you don’t understand.

“I’m going back to sleep,” you mumble and rush upstairs.

The two don’t say anything, but you hear their voices fading into the background as you ascend.

When you reach your room, you shut the door behind you. 

You feel your soaked underwear between your legs, a reminder of everything that just happened as you press your back against the door.

What a weird fucking night.

Lord, grant me telepathy to unravel the enigma that is Min Yoongi’s head. Amen.

The next day was torture.

First, you learned the hard way that giant windows weren’t so fun when the midday sun was beaming directly into your sleep-deprived eyes, punishing you for last night’s… activities.

Second, someone was lying half on top of your blanket, effectively trapping you in a duvet like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

You wiggled free, jerking up with enough force to make your head spin, only to come face to face with—Taehyung.

His arm draped over his face, shielding himself from the sunlight.

Right on cue, Jimin pounded on the door, looking annoyingly fresh and showered.

"You two! Get up! We're going kayaking. Jungkook and Allie are already getting ready," he called through the door.

You glanced at Allie’s empty bed before turning to Taehyung. "What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

Taehyung groaned. "Clogged our toilet, used yours, then passed out here on my way back."

"You dumbass," Jimin sighed, arms crossed. "You were so wasted! Why did you even drink that much when you don’t drink?"

Taehyung let out another groan. “Ow, my head…”

"Come on," Jimin stretched out a hand to him. "Let’s get you some painkillers."

"I don’t think I wanna go." Taehyung whined. "I feel like dying."

"This was your idea, and we already paid for the kayaks!" Jimin yanked him up with a dramatic sigh, dragging him toward the door, before turning to you. 

"And you! Eat something then join us. You already bailed last night."

You exhaled heavily, checking your phone. 11 am.

Groaning, you forced yourself out of bed. You didn’t feel like doing anything today. But you also wanted to confront Yoongi. And maybe talk to Jungkook.

About what? You had no idea. You just hated unclear things.

You freshen up, and since you're still unsure of your plans for the morning—running or kayaking—you change into something comfy: an oversized hoodie and track shorts.

You make your way downstairs, and there he is.

Yoongi.

His back was to you, still in his pajamas—like he had just rolled out of bed and come down to eat.

Shoving the memory aside, you grabbed a bowl and milk from the fridge before sitting across from him. He was lazily picking at slices of watermelon from a container.

"Is it good?" you asked, pouring your cereal.

"Hmm," he just hummed. Classic Yoongi.

"You coming kayaking?" you asked, stirring your cereal.

He shrugged. "Nah. Kinda wanna finish a book." He flicked a seed off the fruit.

“Just say you hate water.” You chuckled. Then, you decided to rip the band-aid off.

"Wanna talk about last night?"

"Not really. Not my business."

"Okay… so, we’re good?"

He finally looked at you, brow raised. "What do you mean?"

"I don’t know, I was getting weird vibes from you last night," you admitted, chewing. "Which is weird because you never really cared about who I go out with or hook up with."

Silence.

 "Actually… I do wanna talk about last night."

You raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to continue.

"I wasn’t gonna say anything because it’s not my place," he continued slowly, obviously being careful in choosing his words. "But I care about Jungkook. He’s like a brother to me. And you…" He exhaled. "You’re family too. It’s just… weird, is all.”

"I’m family?" You rested your chin on your hand.

"You are." Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

You grinned. "Wow. That’s kinda sweet—"

"Don’t make it weird."

"You made it weird first," you pointed out.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What I meant was… it’s just weird is all. I never thought he’d be someone you’d…"

"Hook up with?" you finished for him, raising a brow.

He didn’t confirm or deny. He just pressed his lips together.

"Well, I guess he’s my type," you shrugged, going back to your cereal.

"YN, listen to me," Yoongi said, voice low. His eyes met yours, serious now. "Jin and I… we practically helped Namjoon raise Jungkook after their dad died. Jungkook was so young. He was hurt and angry. He acted out, fucked around."

You paused.

Yoongi never really talked about his friends like this. 

You knew bits and pieces, something about their vacations, what they did over weekends, silly things, and maybe some history about the past… but nothing at this level of depth. 

You realized… he was a private person. There was so much about him you didn’t know.

"Fucked around?" you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

He shrugged, still careful of his words. "Just got self-destructive. Then got into fights. Ran with the wrong crowd. Slept around and left a trail of crying girls behind.”

You snorted. “Like I said, my type.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "I’m being serious."

"I know, I know." You waved a spoon at him. "Look, thanks for the heads-up. But you know I’m an adult, right? And that I know what I’m doing? Jungkook’s been good to me, he’s never been an asshole or anything."

Yoongi nodded, but his jaw flexed slightly. “I never said he wasn’t, man. He’s a good kid. Maybe better that most of us, probably why he took their dad’s death the hardest—too soft for this world. He just had a rep, that’s all. I know you’re capable of discernment, so I won’t overstep."

You chuckled. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He just flashed you with his lopsided grin before he went back to his watermelon.

And you to your cereal.

And that was that.

A run seemed like the best way to clear your head, so you ditched kayaking with your friends despite their groans and protests.

The place was vast, giving you plenty of room to let your thoughts settle. 

Except, there was nothing to settle.

You had no thoughts, just the nagging feeling that something was off.

Later, after you showered and changed, you joined everyone at the cottage for an afternoon picnic.

The scene was lively—Yoongi and Jimin were manning the grill, Jungkook and Taehyung had just returned from the kitchen carrying a massive icebox filled with drinks, and you took a seat beside Allie to help peel eggs for sandwiches.

But every time you placed a freshly peeled egg into the container, Taehyung swooped in and popped it straight into his mouth.

"Taehyung, I swear, peel your own damn egg!" you snapped, swatting at his hand.

He barely reacted, but his eyes suddenly narrowed as he leaned in close. 

"Wait… what's that on your neck?"

Your fingers instinctively brushed over the skin just below your jaw. "What?"

A wicked grin stretched across Taehyung’s face. "Holy shit. Is that a hickey?" 

All heads turn to you.

You stilled, your fingers still ghosting over your neck. But you didn’t react beyond that. Taehyung thrived on even the smallest hint, and any sudden movement could make him sniff out the truth, and you weren’t about to give him that chance.

"Oh my god, it is! And it's fresh too! Who the hell were you with?” He continued, louder.

It wasn’t a big deal. 

So what if you and Jungkook made out—okay, so what if he made you come? Hard. With just his fingers. And yeah, it was good. Mind-numbingly, toe-curlingly, embarrassingly good.

And sure, you both obviously had the hots for each other. But that didn’t mean anything. Right?

“I knew it!” Taehyung clapped his hands together. “Yoongi? Finally? The ship has sailed!”

At that, you snapped your head toward him, eyes narrowing. “What? No!”

Unfortunately, you have now everyone’s attention. Thanks to Taehyung. The entire group turned to look between you and Yoongi, amused.

Jungkook remained unreadable.

Yoongi remained completely unbothered, simply flipping a skewer.

"Last night? Like… when I went downstairs last night?" Jimin repeated absentmindedly, his brows furrowing as he tried to piece things together.

"I knew something was up! I knew you'd eventually hook up!" Taehyung continued.

"Taehyung, shut up. We did not," you deadpanned. 

"Then who? Jimin?" He snorted. "Nah, not unless it was a drunken mistake." His eyes flickered to Jungkook for half a second, "Jungkook? Hmm. Possibly. But Yoongi? I’ve always known." 

Then he gasped. "Wait! Didn’t you used to have a crush on him?"

Jungkook shifted on his seat, as he popped open a can of beer with unnecessary force.

You turned to Yoongi, silently begging him to help you out, but he just shrugged as if to say “not my problem, kid”.

"Taehyung," you exhaled sharply. "Drop it."

Surprisingly, he did. He held up his hands in surrender but sing-songed. “Alright, whatever you say.”

The conversation moved on. The food was grilled. Drinks were passed around. Laughter filled the air.

But every now and then, you caught Jungkook’s gaze flickering toward you.

Unreadable.

And you told yourself there was nothing to read, nothing to talk about.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810 @cherryreadsfics @boyfriendtaekook @michuga @kchukes @ahgasegotarmy116 @michellekosmos @pitchblack0309 @hoseokteardrop @blueberriesm @jkslaugh97 @mysteriousgeminizone @jimintopiaaaa @marvelbun @rayyrayy10 @onlyoursol-ace @rkivesarchive

a/n: please lmk if i missed you, and as always, thank you for reading.

[tacobacoyeet]

OK OK SO Patrick x reader based off the song once last time by Ariana grande … walk with me …

reader and Patrick are on and off and kinda toxic but one night when her and her friends are in a convenience store all dressed up just stopping by on their way to the oarty and there’s some other people outside and PATRICK is one of them and reader is just looking through the window at him longingly… and then they get to the party and everyone is dancing and reader is jusg looking at him and he catches her staring and then she can tell that he wants her as much as she wants him and he walks upstairs motioning for her to follow and theu go into a random bedroom and POUND TOWN because their just so addicted to eachother…sorry for yapping I went on a rant

one last time | patrick zweig x reader

a/n: yeah baby i walked with you. we all know song-based fics are my weakness LOL

warnings: SMUT 18+, honestly this is short and was just a good excuse for me to write patrick smut, hastily written and proofread

It always started like this.

A quiet ache blooming beneath your ribs, impossible to ignore. It wasn’t loud. Not yet. Just the echo of a memory, the weight of a name you hadn’t said aloud in weeks but still tasted like home.

Patrick.

You hadn’t expected to see him. Not tonight. Not like this.

The convenience store buzzed with cheap fluorescent lights and too-loud laughter from your friends, who were picking out snacks before the party. You were in heels, sequins catching the glow, heart already thudding too fast—and then you saw him.

Outside. Leaning against the wall like the night owed him something, cigarette in one hand, eyes on the sky.

Patrick Fucking Zweig.

His hair was longer than you remembered. A little messier. He looked good. Too good. Like he always did when you swore you were over him.

And just like that, the ache got louder.

"Don't," your best friend said, voice low, cutting through the static in your brain.

You blinked. "What?"

She followed your gaze through the window. Her sigh was almost affectionate. Almost.

"He's a fucking disaster, Y/N. He always has been. Stop wasting your time."

You tore your eyes away, but it was too late. The heat had already pooled low in your stomach. That familiar pull had already begun. And when you looked back again, just for a second—he was looking too.

---

The party was already packed when you arrived. Music pulsed through the walls, thick with bass, the kind that made your chest vibrate and your drink fizz over. Your heels clicked against the hardwood as you moved through waves of bodies and perfume and laughter.

You tried to focus on the chaos—your friends, the flashing lights, the music—but your eyes were hunting. Searching.

And then...

There he was.

Leaning against the archway to the living room, drink in hand, head tilted like he’d been waiting for you. The second your eyes met, it was over. The crowd fell away. The noise dimmed. And suddenly, it was just the two of you again.

You looked away first. You had to.

But a minute later, you felt it: his gaze on you, heavy and molten. When you finally looked up again, he was already walking toward the stairs.

He didn’t say a word.

Just looked at you. Held it. Waited.

Then nodded toward the hallway, a silent invitation.

Your breath caught. Your chest ached.

But you followed him anyway.

The door slammed shut. Hard.

And then it was chaos.

You barely had time to think before he was on you—grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head against the wall, mouth devouring yours with a kind of desperation that tasted like hunger and regret and something wicked. He kissed like he needed it to stay alive.

"You can't get enough of me, huh?" he rasped against your lips, a mean smirk on his face. "You're so desperate."

You gasped as he shoved your dress up around your waist and sank to his knees without ceremony, tongue already tracing heat over your inner thigh. His hands were everywhere—rough, impatient, worshipping and cruel all at once.

When he dragged your panties down with his teeth, your knees almost buckled.

"Fuck, I missed this," he groaned, licking a stripe up your center like he was trying to ruin you from the ground up.

You moaned, loud and shameless, tangling your fingers in his hair and yanking just to feel him growl.

He didn’t stop. Didn’t let you go.

He sucked like he was claiming you, fingers digging bruises into your thighs to keep you still while he feasted like a man starved. Your legs trembled, body jerking against the wall as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally came, it ripped through you in a way that felt criminal.

But he wasn’t done.

He stood and kissed you again—mouth soaked in you, breath ragged—as he fumbled with his belt, yanking his jeans down just enough.

“Turn around,” he ordered. Voice dark. Unforgiving.

You obeyed.

Hands flat on the wall, you arched back into him—and he didn’t hesitate.

He slammed into you in one brutal thrust that knocked the air from your lungs. You cried out, forehead pressed to your arm, fingers curling against the paint.

He was rough. Mean. Each thrust a punishment, a confession, a rock-sold statement. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise, his other hand snaking around to grip your throat and pull you back against him.

"Say it," he growled in your ear. "Say you still want me."

"I want you," you choked, broken and breathless. "God, Patrick, I need you—"

That made him snap.

He fucked you like he wanted to break you apart and then keep every shattered piece.

When you came again, he followed—biting down on your shoulder, spilling into you with a guttural sound that echoed against the walls.

Silence followed. Heavy. Tangled.

Neither of you moved.

Not yet.

Eventually, he pulled out and stepped away like the distance might help him breathe. You stayed there—hands still braced on the wall, dress ruined, chest rising and falling like you'd just surfaced from deep water.

He didn’t say anything. Just dragged a hand through his hair, eyes flickering with everything he wouldn’t voice.

You turned slowly, your back hitting the wall again, arms wrapping around your stomach.

"So that's it?" you asked, voice low. Brittle.

His jaw clenched. "What do you want me to say?"

You swallowed. Hard. "That this means something. That it's not just another repeat of us fucking and pretending it didn't happen."

He laughed—sharp, hollow. "You really want to talk about pretending?"

Silence. Thick. Drowning.

Your lip trembled, but you refused to let the tears fall.

"You're the one who always leaves," you whispered.

Patrick’s face cracked. Just for a second.

"Maybe because staying with you feels like handing you the gun every time and daring you to pull the trigger."

You didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

You both just stood there, broken in the same patterns, addicted to the same wreckage.

He looked at you like he wanted to stay.

But when the door opened, he left.

-----

tagging: @kimmyneutron @kharwreck @babyspiderling @queensunshinee @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy @awaywithtime @artstennisracket @artdonaldsonbabygirl

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: If you want can you write one about shapeshifters confusing the sister? She doesn't know who is real and breaks down not knowing who she should trust and who to kill?

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

A/N: I just kept writing and writing about this one lol oops. I also didn’t proofread so my bad. Requests are open and I’m working hard on getting to everyone’s! Hope you like this:))

Lately, you were on edge and completely weighed down by the constant pressure of trying to save the world. It felt like the world was resting on your shoulders, and in many ways, it was. It left you anxious and overwhelmed, constantly worrying, no matter what you were doing. Your brothers could see how much it was affecting you, especially since you were only 16, and they wanted to do everything they could to protect you from the mental toll it was taking on you. You had just woken up when you heard a gentle knock on your door.

“Yeah?” You asked groggily, rubbing your eyes.

Sam pushed the door open and sent you a soft smile before walking to sit on the edge of your bed. You immediatly pushed yourself up in a sitting position and looked at him with worry.

“What?” You asked slightly panicking, hoping nothing bad happened. You knew he was about to get touchy feely and you were anxious to know why. Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Did someone die? Where’s Dean? Your thoughts were cut off by Sam placing a hand on your knee.

“Hey, it’s alright, everything’s okay.” He reassured, examining your worried face. He knew how anxious you’ve been lately so he sent you a pained smile before he continued, “Dean and I were talking and we thought it would be best if you stayed back instead of going on the hunt today.” He said, already knowing this conversation could go one of two ways.

“But-“ You started before he cut you off.

“Take a rest day bug, it’s okay. We can see the toll this has been taking on you and you need a mental reset.” He said softly.

“But, I-I’m okay.” You smiled, but your voice cracked and betrayed you.

“No, you’re not bug and that’s alright. I know it feels heavy right now and it’s okay to not be okay. Me and Dean have been through it, but you’re so young and no one should have to carry the weight of what you've been through. It’s important to take a day off to take care of yourself alright?” Sam said with his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Okay, yeah.” You said softly, nodding. Sam got up and pulled you into a hug.

“Love you bud.” He said before he kissed you on the side of the head.

“Love you too, be safe please.” You said, already feeling stressed out at the fact that your brothers are throwing themselves at danger once again and you won’t be there to immediately know the outcome of it.

“Always.” Sam reassured, sending out a wink and walking out of your room. You had five minutes of peace before you heard another knock on the door.

“Yeah?” You asked.

Dean stuck his head into the room and sent you a smile.

“Hey kid, I got you a bagel and a chocolate chip muffin and I already have Legally Blonde up on the tv for you.” He said already knowing how to start your self care day off right.

“Thank you!” You smiled and started to get out of bed to start your day.

“Call me if you need anything. We’re heading out now, okay?” He asked.

“Yes, please be careful.” You said shooting him a concerned look.

“Uh I am always careful.” He said matter of factly.

“Mhm.” You chuckled, going in to hug him.

“Love you kid, we should be back by tonight.” He said and ruffled your hair.

“Okay, love you.” You said, pulling away and watching him walk out.

It was around 7pm when you heard some noise outside of your room. You quietly opened the door and saw Dean in the hallway. He didn’t notice you as he walked into his own room. You decided to go to the kitchen to grab one of the cookies you baked earlier to give him one to try. As you walked towards the kitchen the front door opened and in walked Dean.

“Hey Y/N/N!” He said when he saw you. He was making his way down the steps as you froze.

“I-I-I-“ You were confused for about 15 seconds before your heart dropped. This wasn’t Dean. Dean was just down the hall. But what if that wasn’t Dean and this is actually the real Dean. Your thoughts were wild and your heart was pounding.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, seeming concerned.

“No.” You whispered and began to back up away from him.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, now on high alert.

“Get away from me!” You shouted in fear.

“What the fuck?” He said to himself as he put his hands up in defense.

“Where’s Sam?” You asked forcibly, still back away from Dean.

“He’s picking up some food. What’s going on kid?” He asked.

“You were just in your room.” You stated aggressively.

“No I wasn’t.” He responded, confused.

“Exactly.” You sucked in a breath of terror before you bolted out of the room, ready to fight for your life.

“What the hell?” You heard him say as you sprinted into your room. You grabbed your gun and bolted back out towards Dean’s room where you saw him enter just moments before the other Dean walked through the front door. Just as you were about to reach his room, he walked out. You jumped in fear and put the gun behind your back.

“Oh hey kiddo I was just about to come check on you. Sammy ran out to grab us some food.” He finished just as the other Dean rounded the corner to the hallway to find out what was going on with you.

“What the fuck?” They both said at the same time. You brought your gun out from behind your back and shakily held it in front of you, frantically switching between the two Dean’s unsure of who was who.

“Hey Y/N, I need you to trust me and walk towards me right now.” Dean 2, the one that just walked up, said calmly, but urgently. You immediately turned the gun to Dean 1.

“Alright, hey, take it easy, okay?” Dean 1 said with his hands out in front of him, his eyes not leaving yours. “I need you to be smart about this kid. You know me. Shoot him!” He shouted.

You let out a frustrated cry and turned the gun onto Dean 2. You didn’t know who was who and you were freaking out.

“I’m Dean alright?! I’m Dean. You’ve gotta help me out here kid and walk towards me because that’s the shapeshifter, not me.” He said urgently. You were so overwhelmed and tears started to pour down your cheeks as you flipped the gun back onto Dean 1.

“SHOOT HIM Y/N!” Dean 1 yelled at you, but you didn’t falter your gun. “SHOOT HIM!” He screamed at you again. You jumped in freight, but continued to point the gun at him. Dean 1 was so persistent on you killing Dean 2 while Dean 2 seemed like his only goal was to protect you. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dean 1 shouting once more.

“SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM!” His demand boomed through the halls making you panic and freeze. He started charging towards you and thats all it took to for you to snap out of it and shoot him twice. He fell to the floor dead.

“Oh thank God.” You heard the real Dean sigh in relief from behind you, but you felt anything but relief. You were left in a trance staring at dead fake Dean, but he looked so real to you. All of your emotions were threatening to spill over. You were so worked up over saving the world while also worrying about your brothers safety. You were scared that you could lose one of them in an instant and now seeing dead fake Dean was too much for you to handle. He was identical to your brother and though he wasn’t really your brother it didn’t leave much up to the imagination if you ever really did lose him. You sunk to the floor staring at the shapeshifter with tears now trailing down your cheeks.

“Dean?” You whispered weakly staring at your brother’s lifeless body knowing that it wasn’t actually him, but not able to shake the emotions you felt. Suddenly your vision was cut off by someone standing in front of you.

“Hey, it’s me, it Dean. It’s okay.” Dean said kneeling down in front of you, but you couldn’t focus on anything as you stared blankly ahead stuck in your own mind. It felt as though nothing around you was real and you were unable to move or speak.

“Hey kiddo you with me?” He asked getting increasingly more worried as he lightly tapped your face with no reaction from you.

“Alright you’re in shock, that’s alright, that’s okay, just know I’m here sweetheart, alright? You’re safe, I’m okay. Everything’s okay, I promise.” He soothed trying to get you to a safe mental space. He started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to try and ground you which worked. You blinked hard before opening your eyes again. Your eyes met Dean’s who were already boring into yours and your flood gates opened. You started sobbing and felt Dean take you into his arms. You gripped onto his shirt tight and clung to him.

“De.” You whimpered into his chest.

“Hey, yeah, I got you. It’s me, I’m alright, I’m here.” He said softly understanding that with your recent emotions seeing him lifeless was too much for you to handle. He gripped you tighter as sobs wracked through your body.

“Shhhh, shh, shh, everything’s alright kid.” He said.

“I’m just so scared to lose you.” You whimpered, feeling your body start to shake.

“You’re not ever going to lose me.” He reassured you and rubbed your back to calm your trembles.

“I- just- the body looks identical to you.” You stuttered trying to find the words to get it out. You felt Dean nod.

“I know kid, I know. It’s alright.” He said softly, understanding exactly where your mental breakdown came from. You pulled away and wiped your tears.

“Okay we should um we should probably do something about this body then.” You mumbled glancing at the shapeshifter, still feeling uneasy.

“Don’t worry about it, I got it. Sam should be here any minute with dinner so go wait for him in the other room alright?” Dean asked, staring down at you.

“Um yeah alright.” You said and walked towards the kitchen. Just as you sat down, Sam walked through the door with bags in hand.

“Hey bug!” He smiled. “How was your day?” He asked before setting the food on the table and getting a good look at you. As soon as he did his face fell.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly seeing your tear stained face. You immediately got up and hugged him, still slightly shaking from earlier.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You felt his chest rumble as he asked you.

“There was a shapeshifter.” You mumbled, gripping onto his shirt tighter.

“What?” Sam asked in confusion pulling you away from him to look you in the eyes.

“There was a shapeshifter who looked like Dean and I couldn’t tell who was who, but I killed the shapeshifter and it just scared me.” You spoke slowly.

“Okay.” Sam shook his head, but still was in absolute confusion on what happened and how it had happened.

“Where’s Dean now?” He asked, trying to understand more.

“Dealing with the body.” You said and went back into his arms, needing comfort once more.

“Okay, alright.” He said and held you close to him.

“Just freaked me out a little bit.” You whispered.

“l understand bug, it’s alright.” He reassured you, rubbing your back. After a couple minutes you pulled away from him and sent him a soft smile.

“You okay?” He asked, still concerned with your mental state.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You responded and sent him one of your cheesy thumbs up. He chuckled and shook his head.

“Alright do you wanna get our dinner out of the bag and put it on the table while I go talk to Dean?” He asked, motioning to the diner bags he had placed on the table.

“Yeah sure.” You responded as he sent you a quick nod and left the room.

You got the table ready and put the food out on the table. Your eyes caught the cookies you totally forgot you baked and got them ready to put on the table also for your brothers to try. As you were walking towards the table with the plate your brothers both walked in.

“I baked cookies today!” You said enthusiastically.

“Your scrumptious secret recipe cookies?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Duh.” You chuckled and shook your head yes. He immediately snagged one off the plate. You looked back at him after you placed the rest on the table and noticed it was already gone.

“Damn you’re the real Dean all right.” You laughed. He sent you a wink and you all sat down at the table to eat. As you opened up your to go box you couldn’t help, but notice the exchanges your brothers were making.

“What?” You asked.

“How was your day?” Sam asked.

“It was actually pretty good!” You said before looking down at the table. “The shapeshifter stuff just threw me off a little bit, but other than that I had a really good day.” You finished.

“Alright well tomorrow we’re all having an off day together kiddo just me you and Sammy.” Dean grinned, knowing you needed to spend time with them.

“Good thing I have three face masks left still.” You smirked, looking between your brothers.

“Good thing Sammy loves to be pampered.” Dean smirked.

“Dean give me a break, you pamper yourself more than Y/N pampers herself.” Sam scoffed.

“That’s actually true.” You laughed.

“Oh be quiet you two.” Dean said in a high pitched girly voice making you all laugh.

[arminsumi]

Saw this and thought... Mafia AU Gojo & Geto 👀

Share a piece of your juicy brain thoughts please, I'm collecting all the scraps 😗

PRETTY THING LIKE YOU.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑

NOTE: OH TO BE IN THAT CAR 🛐 anyways, these are just... messy ideas pls forgive me!! 🥲 idk how to write for mafia stuff but i adore the idea sm i wanted to say a lil smth about it

WARNINGS — fem reader, you're Toji's daughter, err mafia stuff warning idk?? implied kidnapping, implied light use of violence, Geto calling u nicknames (sweetheart, baby, etc), i made Gojo a meanie for some reason oops, some vague semblance of a plotline lol

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

Your dad is Toji Fushiguro, he sits on a big throne in this business. Everyone knows him, everyone's scared of him — why wouldn't they be? Except for these two particular men... who consider themselves the strongest 🙄 Big, big severely inflated egos they've got.

Toji hired Nanami to be the loyal bodyguard for his precious daughter. Why? Well, to put it simply — these two men are looking to take revenge on him with you as their playing card.

Geto and Gojo are on the hunt one night for you, and you fall right into their palms. Usually the black car with tinted windows has Nanami behind the wheel, ready to drive you home after a night out. But one night it's those two.

The drive is silent and uneasy. Gojo is flicking his gaze up at the rearview mirror to check you out with those piercing blue eyes of his. Geto is talking to you in a sickeningly saccharine sultry voice, nicknaming you sweetheart, princess, love, baby, etc... and trying his best to keep you calm with simple small-talk.

Gojo? He's more intimidating than his friend behind the wheel. He will not stop eyeing you out, even when you three end up in some fancy penthouse. You blink up at him innocently, it almost makes his heart lurch — he's wondering how such a pretty face came from such a bastard.

Whatever Toji did to them in the past, they were still seething over. Seems their idea of a revenge plot involved you. But you had no idea what to expect. They didn't have intent to hurt you — well, subtract Gojo pulling and pushing you around like a ragdoll when you weren't compliant enough. But Geto always scolded him.

In fact, Geto calmed the both of you so nicely. He put on water to boil and languidly stirred tea in the kitchen. It was surreal and bizarre in some way.

"Sweetheart, we're gonna be transparent with you. We're just keeping you here for a little while to get your dad's attention. You're gonna be treated like a princess, so don't you worry — " he lifted you by the chin so you had to look up at him, "A pretty thing like you isn't in trouble with us."

Gojo scoffed. He had his arms folded. Legs crossed. Spine slacked against the couch.

"Don't mind him, princess. He's just grumpy — your old man wasn't very kind to him in his youth." Geto explained super vaguely.

Gojo chuckled, "Yeah, you're damn right he wasn't kind to me. Sonofabitch wasted me."

"Well she had nothing to do with that, Satoru, so treat her good."

He grumbled in reluctant agreement. But the second Geto was out of sight, when Gojo led you to your bedroom, he entrapped you between two arms and practically pinned you to the wall.

"Listen — princess — " he mockingly impersonated Geto, "You keep those lips shut or I will shut them for you." he threatened, breathe fanning your face.

Well, it was hard to keep your lips shut. A week later, you woke up and went into the kitchen to find Gojo with a bloodstain in his white hair, Geto with a crimson splatter across his cheek, and a gun resting on the table that towered with green stacks of money. You didn't dare ask what was going on. You just looked at them until they said something from themselves.

"Don't worry." Geto's serene smile caught your worried gaze, "Just business, angel."

"What exactly-" you began, but Gojo gave you a sharp look and Geto immediately cut you off.

" — ah-ah, baby. We've already talked about this." he cooed. His smile had the vaguest sinister twist to it, "Keep that pretty mouth shut. No asking questions."

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Everbody Loves a Clown | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Word Count: 5956

Warnings: Canon violence, canon gore, coping with parental death, clowns lol

A/N: Special treat since the first episode was kinda short! Happy reading, everyone!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

The only light in the middle of the clearing in the woods came from John’s wrapped, burning body. You stood wordlessly between Dean and Sam, watching as the pyre burned to ash. Dean stared silently while his brother fought tears.

It felt so odd to have spent so much time looking for John— a man you'd only met in passing during a hunt a little over a year ago— to now be standing in front of his burning corpse. It almost felt anticlimactic if you detached emotion completely from your situation.

On the very real and guttural side of things, though, you knew that having spent so little time with John after looking for him for almost a year was going to take a horrible toll on his boys, especially your Dean.

Sam spoke for the first time in hours. “Before he.. before... did he say anything to you? About anything?”

Dean refused to look at you or his brother, but said, “No. Nothing.”

An obvious lie.

***

Over a week after John’s funeral, you were watching Dean work on his car at Bobby’s. Bobby had been nice enough to let the three of you stay with him while Dean got the Impala back in working order.

Selfishly, every time you looked at Dean, you wanted to come right out with your feelings. Although, he was grieving, and you did not want to take advantage of his vulnerability. You wouldn't want your relationship to be born out of such a terrible tragedy.

However, you would continue to be there for him however he needed, even if that meant sitting next to him in the hot sun silently for hours and handing him a wrench every once in a while. You knew better than to ask if he was okay. You’d lost your father, too and knew he wouldn’t be okay for quite some time.

At first, he’d barely tolerated you sitting next to him. He fought you on everything you tried to do for him, but you got him to shut up after a few days. You knew he knew what you were playing at, and you could tell he appreciated it nonetheless.

Sam, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as well-fortified against his emotions. You could hear him crying in the next room almost nightly, and it broke your heart. But you would rather Sam cry than build himself up against negative feelings the way his brother did. He was more into the touchy-feely-hug-it-out therapy style, and you were more than happy to give that to him. These boys needed you to be strong for them, and you would happily do so for as long as they needed. 

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, approaching you and Dean, who was under his car. You sat next to where his boots stuck out with a tool box in your lap.

“Slow,” Dean responded.

“Yeah? Need any help?”

“What, you under a hood? I'll pass.”

“Need anything else, then?”

Dean rolled himself out from under the car and stood up above you. You looked between Dean’s face, set in hard lines, and his brother’s puppy-dog stare. “Stop it, Sam.”

“Stop what?” the younger brother asked innocently.

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise,” Dean scoffed.

“Alright, Dean, it's just—” Sam took a deep breath. “We've been at Bobby's for over a week now, and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

“You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.” You knew the bite in Dean’s voice was all a mask.

“Don't patronize me, Dean,” Sam returned. “Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car.”

“Sam, let it go—” you tried, but Dean continued to talk over you.

“Revenge, huh?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it— oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car.” He got back down under it.  

“Well, we've got something, alright?” Sam crouched down next to you and handed you a cell phone. “It’s what I came out here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.”

Dean pushed himself out from under the car again and sat up next to you as you played the voicemail. “John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.”

“That message is four months old,” Sam explained.

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

Sam nodded.

“Who’s Ellen?” you asked. “Any mention of her in your dad’s journal?”

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number, and I got an address.”

***

You and the boys ended up taking one of Bobby’s beat-up minivans to the Roadhouse Saloon; the address Ellen’s voicemail led to. 

“This is humiliating. I feel like a fuckin’ soccer mom!” Dean groaned as he parked the car.

“It’s the only one Bobby had running, dude,” you reminded him. You followed the boys into the purposefully dilapidated-looking building.  

“Hello? Anybody here?” Dean asked loudly. No response ever came. All you could hear was a fly buzzing and a light popping. You caught sight of a man passed out on the pool table facing away from you. 

“Hey, buddy?” Sam said. He turned back to you and Dean. “I'm guessing that isn't Ellen.” He headed into a back room to look around. You walked a little ahead of Dean, only turning around when you heard him say. “Oh god, please let that be a rifle.”

You whipped out your gun and turned to see a pretty petite blonde holding a cocked rifle to Dean’s back. “No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move.”

“Hey!” you said. She looked to you, but didn’t move her gun from Dean’s back. “You shoot him, and you’re dead,” you told her.

“Well, he moves, and he’s dead,” she replied.

“Ladies, Ladies, please,” Dean smirked. “You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do…” He turned around fluidly and grabbed the rifle. “That.”

The blonde punched him square in the nose and took back the rifle. You cocked your pistol, catching her attention. 

“Sam! A little help, please!” Dean said. 

“Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up.” Sam walked out with his hands on his head and a shotgun pointed at the back of him. An older woman walked out holding it. “Sam? Dean? Winchester?” she said.

“Yeah…?” Dean said.

“Son of a bitch,” the woman muttered.

The blonde spoke up next. “Mom, you know these guys?”

“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys,” she answered, lowering the gun and laughing. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.”

Jo lowered her rifle as well. “Hey,” she smiled.

“Oh, we’re just supposed to be cool now?” you remarked, still pointing your gun at the blonde.

“(Y/N), cool it,” Dean warned. You did as told and slowly lowered your gun, still stand-offish. 

“You're not gonna hit me again, are you?” Dean asked Jo. 

Ellen handed him a small towel filled with ice. 

“Thanks. You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?” he asked as he took it from her.

“Well, the demon, of course,” she stated as if it was obvious. “I heard he was closing in on it.”

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean snarked. “I mean, who- who are you? How do you know about all this?”

The brunette scoffed. “Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once.”

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?”

She looked down and softened her voice. “You'd have to ask him that.”

“So why exactly do we need your help?” Dean questioned.

Now you wanted Dean to cool it. “Relax, man,” you warned.

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if—” Ellen stopped suddenly. “He didn't send you.” She looked frantically between Dean and Sam. “He's all right, isn't he?”

Dean refused to look at her, but Sam answered instead. “No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.”

Ellen looked sad. “I’m so sorry.”

“It's okay. We're all right,” Dean replied.

“Really? I know how close you and your dad were.”

“Really, lady, I'm fine,” he growled.

“Dean, relax,” you urged him quietly.

Sam continued the conversation with Ellen. “So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.”

“Well, we can't. But Ash will,” she smirked.

“Who's Ash?” you asked.

“Ash!” she called.

You turned to the man on the pool table as he jerked up and flailed up. “What? It closin' time?”

Sam snorted. “That’s Ash?”

Jo hummed. “Mm-hmm. He's a genius.”

You looked at her, skeptical. 

“Sit, please,” Ellen said, and she and her daughter moved around the bar opposite you while you slapped a folder down in front of Ash. He sat across the bar from you.

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie,” Dean remarked.

Ash grinned drunkenly. “I like you.”

“Thanks,” the older brother smiled, seeming slightly confused by the drunk.

“Just give him a chance,” Jo urged.

You opened the folder and pushed it toward Ash. “That’s about a year’s worth of John’s work. See if you can make heads or tails of it.”

Ash shook his head as he looked through the papers. “Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.”

“Our dad could,” said Sam.

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean, damn!” Ash’s cadence made you giggle. “They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms— You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me—” he thought for a moment— “fifty-one hours.” He got up to leave, but Dean stopped him. 

“I, uh, I dig the haircut.”

He waved his hair around dramatically. “All business up front, party in the back.”

Jo walked around Dean, flirting a little. You could’ve killed her. 

He offered Jo a polite smile, but you apparently were not doing a good job of hiding your jealousy.

“Easy, tiger,” Dean chuckled, shooting you a smirk. 

You could practically feel Jo checking Dean out. 

“She’s looking at you like a hunk of meat,” you replied, talking through your teeth. 

“What, you mean, like you do?” he replied, smirking.

“I do not!” You paused at his deadpan look. “I mean, sometimes, maybe, quite possibly, but not right now.”

He nodded. “And you know, I, uh, I appreciate that.”

“Do you really? Sounded like you had a gun to your head when you said that,” you giggled.

He looked back at you sincerely. “You know I do.”

"I do just have... one question, though," you said, unable to stop the words coming out of your mouth due to the sudden, subtle flirting coming from Dean.

He nodded for you to continue.

"I'm assuming you pieced together what I was gonna tell you back at the hospital," you trailed off.

Dean nodded again, the ends of his lips tugging upward.

"You're not... freaked out?"

He shook his head, still smiling. "Opposite of freaked out."

You could feel your cheeks heating, and you looked down at the bar in front of you. Dean's chuckle was music to your ears despite the way it spurred on your embarrassment.

Then, Sam approached you and Dean. “A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt.”

“Yeah. So?” Dean asked.

“So, I told her we'd check it out.”

***

Dean continued to grumble about the “stupid minivan” the whole way to your next hunt. Sam did research as you scribbled in your journal. Helping the boys was a task you wouldn't give up for anything, but it was beginning to bring up some negative emotions and memories for you. Journaling was helping to calm the storm inside you.

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean scoffed.

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually,” Sam responded.

“And this family was at some carnival that night?”

“Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnivals.”

“So, how do we know it’s not some psycho in a clown suit?” you piped up.

“Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course,” Sam explained.

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?” Dean mocked.

“Oh, give me a break,” the brunet muttered.

You smiled but refused to make fun of him, because “everyone is afraid of something.” 

“You’re scared of clowns?” you asked.

“Yeah, he still busts out crying whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television,” Dean told you.

“Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying,” Sam deadpanned.

“Planes crash!”

“And apparently clowns kill!”

"Boys—!"

“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean mumbled. “So these types of murders, they ever happen before?”

“Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales,” the younger Winchester explained.

“It’s weird, though, spirits are usually bound to specific locales, y’know,” you said. “So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?”

“Cursed object, maybe,” Dean suggested. “Spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them.”

“Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Well, blame Sam. It was his idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job.” Dean threw a look to his brother.

“So?”

“It's just… not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt.”

You eyed Sam strangely, too.

The younger Winchester softened. “I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do.”

“What Dad would have wanted?” Dean turned his face to Sam.

“Yeah. So?” Sam challenged.

“Nothin'.”

***

You and the boys decided to join the carnival after the second family had been murdered to get a closer look at the happenings during the carnival. “Friends close, freak-shows closer,” Dean had said.

When you entered yet another tent in search of the show’s organizer. You found a man throwing knives at a target; all landing near but not quite on the bulls-eye. 

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper; have you seen him around?” the older brother asked.

The man turned around and pulled off his sunglasses. “What is that, some kind of joke?” 

“Oh. God, I'm— I'm sorry,” Dean said.

“You think I wouldn't give my teeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?”

Dean whispered to you, “Wanna give me a little help here?”

You shook your head. “Not really.”

“Hey man, is there a problem?” a voice interrogated from behind you. You turned to see a very short man in a red cape.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people,” the knife-thrower said.

“No, I don't, I—” Dean’s gorgeous smile was doing nothing to help him in this situation.

“Hey, buddy, what's your problem?” the short man scowled.

“Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding.”

“Little?! You son of a bitch!” The man went to charge Dean.

“No, no, no, no! I'm just— could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?”

You and Sam snickered.

“Please?” you asked. 

The short man looked up at you, and his gaze softened. “Sure, sweetheart, follow me.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, looking back at the boys. 

Dean’s jaw was clenched for a reason you weren’t quite sure of. When you asked, he said, “Just don’t like anybody else callin’ you that.”

You smiled lopsidedly. He could be really sweet when he wanted to be.

Mr. Cooper met you at the door of his office and invited you in. “You three picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat.”

You looked at the available seating options, and Dean motioned for you to take the normal of the two chairs. You obliged, and Dean stood behind you, forcing Sam to sit in the obnoxious pink chair with a giant clown face on it. He sat on the chair hesitantly and refused to relax into it. 

“We've got all kinds of local trouble,” Mr. Cooper continued.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?”

“Yes, sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas,” Sam responded.

“Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS men?” 

“Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess.”

Mr. Cooper eyed your group strangely. “You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?”

“Nope,” Dean grinned. “But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady.”

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” The showrunner pointed to a black and white picture on the wall of a man in a fedora in front of a ferris wheel.

“You guys could be twins,” you pointed out. 

Mr. Cooper smiled thoughtfully. “He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else.

"But you three? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Marry this one, maybe.” The man gestured to you. “Have two point five kids. Live regular.”

Dean went to say something, but Sam leaned forward, his eyes serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.”

You turned to him skeptically, as did Dean. 

Mr. Cooper told the three of you to return in a few hours for training, which you were a little surprised by the suddenness of. 

“I guess they really are desperate,” you said as the three of you left the carnival holding your uniforms to go change into. 

“Were you serious?” Dean asked his brother.

“What?” Sam furrowed his brows at him.

“That whole, uh, I-don't-want-to-go-back-to-school thing. Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?” Dean pressed further at his younger brother’s hesitance. “Sam?” 

“I don't know,” he replied.

“You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead, and the fat lady sings ,that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State,” Dean deadpanned.

“I'm having second thoughts,” was all the younger brother answered with.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I think. Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job.”

Dean stopped Sam. “Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam.”

“Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?”

Dean’s voice hardened but remained sarcastic. “Naw, I don't have a problem at all.”

***

Later that day, you returned with the boys wearing a bright red “Cooper Carnival” jacket to begin your “janitorial job.” You were waiting for Sam or Dean to call you to tell you when to meet up with them for further investigation.

Before you had gotten a call from either, you noticed a little girl tugging on her mother’s jacket. “Mommy, look at the clown!” She pointed at something off in the distance. 

You followed her line of sight only to see nothing.

“What clown?” the mother asked. “Come on, sweetie, come on.”

You called Sam immediately. “Hey, dude. I got something.”

***

The three of you then chose to stake out the family’s home that evening. Dean had just relayed to you how the blind man overheard him calling Sam about the case and had to tell him you three were writing a book about the supernatural.

“Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown,” Sam snorted.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real,” Dean argued. He pulled a gun and cocked it. You jumped over the seat and shoved his arm down. “What are you, nuts? You’re gonna get us busted.”

“Oh, and get this,” Dean continued. “I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.”

“What?” you and Sam asked.

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

“So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?” Sam questioned.

“Something like that.” The older brother shook his head and sighed. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.”

***

You and the Winchesters had been stalking these poor people’s home for hours now. Well, you and Sam had, at least. Dean, on the other hand, was dozing in the front seat. You shook him awake when you saw a phantom clown appear at the front door.

“Dee, look,” you said. 

He hummed and sat up, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. He turned and looked at you when he saw the girl leading the clown inside. 

You jumped out of the car and went through the back entrance of the house. You hid around a corner down the hallway from where the little girl and the clown were.

“Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs,” you heard the girl say. At that moment, Sam leapt out and grabbed the young girl who screamed.

Simultaneously, you shot at the clown while Dean cocked his shotgun again. “Sam, watch out!” he yelled. 

The clown leapt out the window, turning invisible as it shattered the glass of the front door.

The parents ran downstairs and began shouting at you and the brothers. You and the brothers dropped the girl and sprinted away, hearing the girl whine, “ Mommy, Daddy, they shot my clown!” as you headed out.

***

A while later, you and the brothers pulled off the side of the road and ditched the crappy van Dean had been driving you around in. You pulled the license plate off the back of the van and stuffed it in your duffel bag.

“You really think they saw our plates?” Sam asked you.

“I’m not taking any chances,” you said.

“I hate this fuckin’ thing anyway,” Dean grumbled. He began to lead you and his brother off the side of the road. “Well, one thing's for sure.”

“What?” you asked.

“We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid,” Dean responded.

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?” Sam suggested.

“I don’t know, man, I’ve never heard of a creature like that. And it’s definitely not a person. I have no idea what the hell it could be,” you huffed.

“Did it say anything in Dad's journal?” Dean asked.

Sam cleared his throat and said, “Nope,” pulling out his cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” you asked him.

“Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something. Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?” Sam smirked.

“No way,” snorted Dean.

“Then why didn't he tell us about her?” retorted Sam.

“I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out,” the older brother shrugged.

“Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?”

You chuckled, but Dean simply nodded and looked at the floor. 

Sam lowered his phone. “Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap,” Sam answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, god.”

“I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean started walking a little faster. “You know what, back off, alright? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam caught up with his brother easily. “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

“Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!” the older Winchester said gruffly.

“What are you talking about?” Sam questioned.

“I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late.”

“Why are you saying this to me?”

“Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?”

You looked between the boys and knew Dean was handing Sam a load of bullshit. However, you decided to stow that conversation until you could get him in private.

Sam swallowed harshly, looking upset. “I'm going to call Ellen.” Sam walked a little ahead of you and Dean on the phone.

While Sam spoke to Ellen, you walked beside Dean wordlessly.

“(Y/N), you don’t have to act like I’m a bomb about to go off,” Dean said.

You looked up at him. “I’m not. I just thought you’d appreciate a little silence instead of me asking you to ‘share and care,’ as you put it.”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing you to support him in that simple way. He rubbed his thumb over yours and continued to walk next to you. 

When Sam got off the phone, he turned back to you and his brother. “Wha—” He looked down at yours and Dean’s entwined hands and shook his head. “Nevermind. Rakshasa.”

“What's that?” Dean asked.

“Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited,” Sam explained.

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in. Why don't they just munch on the kids?”

“No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?”

“Well, that’s grotesque,” you noted.

“What else'd you find out?” Dean questioned.

“Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects.” The younger brother grimaced.

“Nice,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess.”

“Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81—”

Sam cut his brother off. “Right. Probably more before that.”

“Who do we know that worked both shows?” You raised a brow.

“Cooper?” Sam replied.

“Yup.” You thought for a moment. “That picture of his father looked just like him. Maybe it was him.”

“Well, who knows how old he is?” Sam added.

“Ellen say how to kill him?” Dean asked.

“Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass,” the brunet explained.

“I think I know where to get one of those.”

“Whoa, whoa,” you said. “Before we go stabbing Cooper, I wanna make damn sure it’s him.”

“Oh, you're such a stickler for details, sweetheart,” the older Winchester teased you. “Alright, I'll round up the blade, you two go check if Cooper's got bed bugs.”

***

You and Sam followed instructions and went to Mr. Cooper’s trailer. Dean had left the two of you to go find the blind man. Inside the trailer, you didn’t find any bugs he was nesting on. Just a plain, old twin mattress. 

“What the hell are you doing in here?” a voice called from behind you.

You wheeled around to see Mr. Cooper. “Oh, hi! Just the guy I wanted to—”

“Save it,” Mr. Cooper told you. “Get the hell out of here. Oh, and uh, you’re fired.”

You nodded. “I figured.”

You and Sam dashed out of Mr. Cooper’s trailer and over to where Dean had told you he’d be. When you arrived at the blind man’s tent, Dean stumbled out of the door.

“Holy shit, hey,” you said after he’d scared you.

“Hey.”

“So, Cooper thinks we’re Peeping Toms, but it's not him,” Sam explained.

“Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Well, did you get the—”

“The brass blades? No. No, it's just been one of those days,” Dean sarcastically replied. 

“I got an idea. Come on,” Sam said. You and Dean followed him to the funhouse. As you began to go through, the door slammed behind you between you and the brothers.

“Great!” you groaned. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled, banging on the door. 

“(Y/N)! (Y/N/N), find the maze, okay?” Sam called to you.

“Okay!” you called back. You somehow stumbled your way through the maze and found the brothers. “Oh, thank god,” you sighed.

Sam broke a pipe off the organ a bit ahead of you. 

“Where is it?” you asked.

“I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?” Dean answered. A knife flew right past your head, clipping your ear. “Fuck!”

“(Y/N)!” Sam called. “Where is it?”

“I don’t know, Sam, the thing’s invisible!” You jumped up, reached above your head, and grabbed a lever. When you pulled it down, steam poured out of the vent. 

“Sam, behind you! Behind you!” you heard Dean say. You began to run in the direction of Dean’s voice through the steam. When you arrived at him, there was a bloodied lump of clothes on the ground with a pipe sticking out from its chest. You turned to Dean who was pinned to the wall by two knives on his arm and helped him free himself.

“You okay?” he asked you. 

You nodded as you pulled the last knife out of his jacket.

“I hate funhouses,” he grumbled.

***

You sat next to Dean at Ellen’s bar, and she laid a few beers in front of you. “You kids did a hell of a job.” Ellen nodded at the brothers. “Your dad 'd be proud.”

Sam half-smiled. “Thanks.” He got up to walk over to Ash, and Jo took his place.

“So,” she cleared her throat.

‘Damn, this girl is bold,’ you thought.

“So,” you said.

She ignored you and focused on Dean. “Am I gonna see you again?”

Dean turned to her, surprised. “Do you want to?”

“I wouldn't hate it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up from your chair, heading over to Sam and Ash. You could feel Dean’s eyes on you as you walked away. You knew you had no reason to treat Jo poorly; she was just a young girl with a crush. She had no idea that you and Dean were at all involved. You truly didn’t even know if you and Dean were legitimately involved to begin with.

You noted Ash’s bizarre-looking laptop with exposed wiring and his stack of papers. “Whatcha got there, Pinky?”

He snorted at you. “I’d say I’m a little more Brain than anything, but where ya been? Been waitin’ for ya.”

“What, Ellen didn’t tell you about the clowns?” you asked.

“Clowns? What the fuck—”

You snickered as Dean walked up behind you. “You got something for us, Ash?”

“You find the demon?” Sam questioned.

Ash shook his head. “It's nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie.”

You laughed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm.”

Dean reached for his laptop. “Do you mind…?”

Ash gave him a look, and Dean pulled his hand back from the keyboard. 

You smirked a little at the sight. “Ash, where did you learn to do all this?”

“M.I.T. Before I got bounced for... fighting.”

“No way!” you exclaimed.

He smirked at you and took a sip of his beer. 

“Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?” Dean said, suggesting to you and Sam it was time to go.

“Si, si, compadre.” Ash took the beer Dean had placed down and chugged the rest of it. 

You followed the brothers to the door. Ellen stopped you before you could leave. “Hey, listen— if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back.”

“Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish,” Dean said.

***

“So, you get Jo’s number?” you asked back at Bobby’s junkyard. You sat cross-legged on the hood of one of the cars next to the Impala Dean was working on drinking a beer.

“What?” he asked incredulously. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, she obviously likes you. Kid was shamelessly flirting with you, so I just assumed—”

“No, (Y/N).” He put down the wrench he was holding. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, okay, I just thought—”

He walked over to you and stood between your knees. He ran his hands up and down your thighs. “I’m telling you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Dean, stop it. You don’t have to come over here and flirt with me just ‘cause I got jealous” you said. 

“I’m not,” he assured you. “Look, we haven’t had a chance to talk about everything—”

“And I don’t need us to. I know you need time after your dad—”

“Would you let me finish?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you muttered. 

“But I have no interest in Jo. She’s layin’ it on a little too thick for my taste,” he smirked.

"I don't know, Dean, your bar hookups always lay it on pretty thick," you reminded him.

"Yeah, guess you're right. But she's not you. So I'm not interested."

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go get some more beer. You want one?”

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

You headed back inside and passed Sam on the way. You found Bobby inside and began to update him on the situation with the brothers.

“I don’t know, Bobby, neither of them are doing well,” you said. “But it’s Dean I’m the most worried about.”

“Why’s that?” the older man asked.

“He’s just… bottling it up. He wouldn’t even let me sit next to him while he worked on his car for the first week we were here. He’s worrying me.”

“Sounds like Dean,” Bobby nodded. “But I think if anybody can get ‘im to open up, it’s gonna be you.”

You eyed him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s just… different with you. I think he puts up a bit of a front with Sam. But never with you.”

You nodded. “I’ll keep trying.” You grabbed two beers and again passed Sam as he came back into the house with tears in his eyes. As you approached Dean’s car, you heard slamming metal on metal and Dean grunting. You quickened your step to get to him, holding a beer in each hand. When you arrived, you saw him hitting the Impala’s trunk with a crowbar over and over again.

“Dean, what the f—”

He looked up at you and fought back tears. You put the beers on the car behind you and slowly approached him. You opened your arms to him and wrapped them around his torso, and he finally responded by burying his face in your hair. You could feel him still trying to stifle his tears, but it was clear he was unsuccessful. You let him hug you for as long as he needed to.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[thewalkingkale]

Unfair || A One-Shot

SKZHOPFICS Masterlist

Desc: Everyone tells you to avoid the castle in the woods, and in turn, the man who lives in it. You've never been one to do as you're told.

Warnings: kidnapping, character near-death, lots of angst, mutism, blood and injury, this one gets a little heavy for a second there folks!

dt: my friends trick and court, who helped me make it the gorgeous gorgeous girl it is ❤️

Author's notes: my first ever skz fic 😭😭 I hope you all love it as much as I loved working on it! Also waxingracha changed their hair AS i was writing so if hair colors aren't correct pls forgive me. Felix has dark hair and Hyunjin has his buzz cut lol.

(y/n) is gender neutral, they/them pronouns used

A crow called from somewhere in the woods, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The air was cold now, dense and heavy with the evening air. I had been lost for hours, the woods were twisty and the path was beginning to disappear into the wet, heavy snow. The woods watched me as I walked, hood up and lantern held forward in front of me as I desperately tried to make sense of where I was. Bushes rustled behind me and I stopped, my heart lurching in my chest as I spun around.

“Who’s there?!” I called. There was no response.

My brother had warned me about these woods. Yet I had to be the one to go hunting and get myself lost. Good job, idiot, I thought to myself as I trudged through the wet, heavy snow. Being so close to the castle (read: being in these woods at all), so close to sunset, was a terrible idea. I had since lost sight of the towering structure to the treeline, not knowing which way was towards or away from it. I tried desperately to steady my breathing and continued down the path, only to walk a few steps before I was interrupted by rustling once again, this time accompanied by a growl. I froze, shoulders hunched in fear, as I turned to face the hungry pack of wolves now emerging from the shrubline. I couldn't breathe, the barks and growls echoing in my ears along with my heartbeat. I tried to back away but every step of distance I tried to put between me and the wolves was quickly replaced.

With one final bark and a snarl, the leader of the pack lunged, and I instinctively shielded my face and ducked. The rows of sharp, yellow teeth never came. There was a scuffle, a whimper and a yelp accompanied by a pained grunt from a voice almost as deep as the wolf’s growl and then… silence. As I uncovered my face, I was met by the sight of a man. I could hear footfalls, and my name being called in the distance, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

He was tall, lanky, with long, dark hair. I stood, slowly, and watched as the wolves retreated back into the woods. The woods stood still, the air between us so thick with tension and hostility it was almost hard to breathe. As he turned, I noticed his face. Although scarred, he was… handsome. His eyebrows were creased, not in concern, but in annoyance. In anger, and hatred. He held his arm tightly as he approached.

“What the hell do you think you're doing here?”

“(Y/N)!”

A voice from behind me tore through the steady, anxious silence around me as footsteps followed. I could tell it was my brothers, but I couldn't look back. I couldn't seem to tear my own eyes away from the man before me, his own stare tense, and piercing. I listened to my brother fall behind me into the snow at the sight of him.

“It's… it's the prince… the one from the stories…” He muttered.

Oh.

“Were you raised in a cave or something?” He spat, “Didn't your parents teach you not to go into the woods alone?”

That would explain the anger. We had heard so many stories growing up about staying out of the woods, about the man who lived in the looming castle just outside the village. Some said he was a brutal murderer who did away with anyone who trespassed on his land. Some said he wasn't actually a prince, but an ugly troll king who ate anyone who got lost in the woods. Others debated whether or not he was humanoid at all, a tale of a beast in the woods, turned that way by a witch. I remembered the countless who got lost in these woods and never returned, or were found horridly injured, or mangled, or within an inch of their life, but I never expected the culprit to be… a man. A regular, human man, a handsome one at that. The prince before us rolled his eyes, stepping closer to us and grabbing my wrist harshly.

“I asked you a question.” He snarled. Now that he was close enough, I noticed the rips in his sleeve, and the blood along with it, dripping into the pure, white snow.

“You… You're hurt…”

“Nevermind that. Answer the damn question,” I sucked in a hiss as his grip tightened, tugging at my own arm.

“Step away from them,” (b/n) barked from behind me, “Don't you dare try anything.”

“Or what?” The prince looked at him over my shoulder, “You'll kill me? All by yourself?”

“Or die trying, and I would be doing the world a service.”

“No shit. You’d be doing me one too.”

My brain tuned out the bickering as if on instinct, the world around me disappearing as the prince’s eyes nearly bore holes into me with his direct, angry gaze. Time itself seemed to slow, the background distorting with my nervousness. I moved slowly, so as not to make him any angrier, lifting our wrists to get a better look at the injury to his arm. He flinched, and I paused.

“I'm a healer in the village… Please, I can-” My voice jolted as he ripped his arm away so quickly and with such force that I fell forward, and he stepped aside to let me fall into the snow. I scrambled into a position to face him, trying to get back on my feet as he stalked towards my brother.

“You have some nerve threatening me on my land.”

“You have a lot of nerve showing your ugly face in the daylight. I've hoped all my life I would be the one to finally kill you,” My brother took out his dagger

“This ugly face just saved your sibling from getting eaten by wolves,” the prince spat back, twisting my brother’s arm behind his back and quickly disposing of the dagger.

“Stop!” My voice ripped through the tense air before I could stop it, “Don't hurt him, I’m the one you want. I'm the reason he’s even out here. I got lost, and I wandered onto your land. Take me instead, just… please…” I trailed off as the prince stopped.

“Don’t even think about touching them,” my brother grunted from the prince’s hold.

“Well, I'm taking one of you. I saved them, and it’s only fair,” He looked between the two of us, seemingly weighing his options, “Life for a life.”

My lungs about stopped functioning with the tension as his eyes finally settled on me, lingering for only a moment before he finally released my brother. The snow crunched under his heavy boots as he stormed over to me, yanking me off the ground and setting off into the woods, not stopping or slowing down, and very obviously not caring if I followed or if he dragged me on my knees through the dirt.

“Where are you taking them?”

A stupid question.

“Where do you think?”

An expected snarky response.

“I'll.. I'll come back for them! A-And I’ll have more people this time!”

“You won't make it through the woods.”

There was no response except the sound of my brother coming to his feet and running off, and as his footfalls grew quieter and quieter, dread settled into my stomach. The blood drained from my face as I tried to keep up with the prince’s pace, looking at the snowy forest floor as we walked.

“What's your-” I started, after a while, and was cut off just as quickly as the words could leave my throat.

“Here are the rules,” The prince turned to face me, still gripping my wrist with a force I was sure would bruise, “You are going to refer to me as ‘Prince’ or ‘Sir’, and I am not going to refer to you by name at all. You’re going to fix my arm, and then you belong to me, you aren't going back to your pathetic little village, or your pathetic little life. Got that?”

“... Are you done?”

He looked shocked. When was the last time anyone ever spoke to him, and not at, or around him? When was the last time someone had ever been in his general presence like this?

“Don't… don't talk to me like that. I thought you knew who I was? Are you stupid or something?” He scoffed, turning and continuing down the path, his ears tinting pink.

“Are you? I don't remember acting as if I didn't.” I mumbled. This man was starting to piss me off. He was supposed to be a beast, or a monster, in the woods in a castle eating babies, or something. Not a young, handsome man with an attitude problem. His power, his legend,and he had the attitude of a toddler who needed a nap. No claws, no gigantic sharp teeth. Just a guy. I thought he had decided to ignore me before his deep voice interrupted the sounds of the wood around us as the snow turned into rain.

“Felix.”

“What?” I asked, incredulous.

“My name. Yours next,”

“... (Y/N).”

“What a dumb name.”

It really hadn't occurred to me just how… huge the castle would be right up next to it like this. As we stepped out of the wood, the freezing cold rain pouring down onto us, I couldn't help but pause in utter awe at the sight of it. He paused with me, eyes flickering to my face, and then down at the ground again. I eyed the architecture, the beautiful towers and artful stained-glass windows… in which I could see… was that movement?

It occurred to me then, he wasn't alone. I could see curtains being drawn, there was a man cleaning the windows in an upper story room, and I could see the small, twinkling light of torches dotting the walls. As he led me up the steps, an animated set of armor met us at the top, hands outstretched. Felix took his cloak off and placed it in the armor’s arms, nudging me to do the same. I did, studying the images carved across the metal chestplate and the shape of the chainmail. Once it had obtained both of our cloaks, it walked away, clunky and loud. I watched it for a moment before turning back to Felix, who took my wrist in his hand again and pulled me forward.

I followed his stride, still not completely focused on him, but his beautiful home as he opened the main castle doors. The foyer was so huge it nearly took my breath from my lungs, as dark and dusty as it was. There was a carpet leading to the grand staircase, accompanying the matching patterned drapes in the grand windows, all a deep, royal shade of purple. Photos lined the walls, an older couple and their children, Felix obviously being one of them. There was a fireplace on either side of the staircase, each accompanied by a bookcase, a loveseat, and a coffee table. I followed Felix up the stairs in awe of the room around me, eyeing the decor and running my hand along the mahogany wood railing.

I could feel Felix’s eyes on me, but it was at the bottom of my priority list as we reached the top of the steps and I could really see the artwork on the ceiling. There were… angels in the sky, the setting sun turning the clouds vibrant pinks and purples. Felix stopped so I could continue admiring his foyer, eyes wide with wonder. His never left my face, studying my cheeks, nose, and mouth. I pretended not to notice the way the corners of his lips turned slightly upward, before straightening again into a tight scowl, his eyebrows crinkling as he turned away. Once again, we walked. He led me down a short hallway and through a door decorated mostly in pastel blues and greens, a large bed in the center and a door to one of the many balconies. The curtains swayed in the wind and the rain and thunder could be heard outside.

“This is where you’ll sleep,” He said, letting go of my hand so I could wander. I trailed the walls of the room, looking at the vanity he had all set up, the pictures beautifully painted in blue hues on the walls, in golden frames. The wainscotting was all in gold as well, giving the room an… elegant, regal feel. To say I felt like royalty was an understatement.

Felix followed me in, watching me closely and sitting in one of the chairs on the wall opposite the bed, which boasted a fireplace and a tea table. As he did so, another man walked in, about his age, with a blond buzz cut. He had a short, adorable nose and thick lips. He started to set some supplies down on the table, it looked like bandages and gauze, tinctures to help prevent infection in his wounds. He looked up at me and smiled.

“I didn't know anyone lived here with you,” I wondered, walking up to the man and shaking his hand. He didn't speak.

“My name is (Y/N).”

Still, silent, the man bowed. I looked at Felix in confusion.

“The help can’t speak,” He sighed, avoiding my eyes as he took his shirt off and handed it to the man who had brought the supplies, “His name is Hyunjin.”

“Oh,” I pondered for a moment as I desperately tried to keep my focus on his arm instead of his now-bare chest, my face bursting with pink hue. It must be the curse I had read about. Maybe this place was affected by a witch.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.” I smiled kindly, and as I walked to the table, he stopped me, hands at my shoulders, and looked deeply into my eyes, nodding, as if to ask if I was alright. This man was so… kind. I couldn't help the warmth on my cheeks as I nodded, and he returned it as he let me go, giving Felix a nod and a bow before leaving the room.

I sat across from Felix with the supplies and began to work, short hisses and groans left Felix’s mouth as I did so. It was deeper than it looked, but the blood had stopped, for now. I wiped as much of the dried blood and dirt away from the claw marks as possible, trying to hold his arm still as I worked. Of course, however, he was making it difficult. He seemed to have a knack for making things difficult.

“Stop squirming.” I scolded.

“Stop hurting me.” He scoffed.

“If you don't stop moving I won't help you. How’s that?”

“If you don't help me, I’m locking you in here. How’s that?”

We stared at each other for a moment, eyes locked and squinted at each other as we glared. His glare was… unthreatening, for the first time today. I sighed and continued my work, finishing up the last of the bandages. I shot him one last piercing glance, cleaning up the bloodied gauze and stitches from the table and was about to get up when Hyunjin appeared again, taking the supplies from me with a smile and leaving.

“Lets go over some rules,” Felix started, taking the new shirt Hyunjin had grabbed for him off the table and pulling it over his head.

“More rules?” I complained, not meeting his eye. He glared, but continued.

“You are not to step foot in the West Wing of the castle. It is absolutely forbidden, under any and all circumstances. Understand?”

“I… suppose so, whats-”

“It's none of your business. Just… promise me you'll listen.”

I could see the sincerity swirling around his eyes, he seemed almost… desperate. I nodded, and he relaxed and continued.

“Do not leave this room after midnight. Under ANY circumstances. You’ll be safe in here, but…” He looked towards the door, and then back at me, “... I can't guarantee anything between midnight and sunrise.”

“O…kay…” I stuttered, “Anything else?”

He was silent, observing my face quietly before standing, walking toward the open door and holding the doorknob to close it, but Hyunjin stepped in front of him. The two shared a silent argument, Hyunjin’s eyebrows raised as he pointed at me from the hallway, and Felix sighed, head turning over his shoulder.

“You’ll dine with me each evening. Tonight is no exception. Hyunjin will come grab you when the food is ready.”

With that, he left, slamming the door behind him. As the silence filled the space around me, as did the gravity of the situation, I collapsed to the ground and wept into folded knees. I was taught to fear him. I was taught that entering the woods alone would surely result in my death, at the hands of a faceless monster. Yet, here I was, unable to keep myself from feeling… bad. Guilty. He was just a man, as far as I knew. How long had he been trapped here, his only company being people that couldn't speak to him, all alone? At that moment I wished he was a beast. A big, ugly, hairy monster with teeth the size of my hands. He’d be easier to kill that way, easier to make my escape, and I wouldn't feel so horrible for him.

Dinnertime came quickly, a quiet knock on the door interrupting my thoughts. I hurriedly wiped my tears, opening the door to see a smiling Hyunjin behind it. I tried to return the smile as he took my hand, leading me to the large dresser on one of the walls and throwing it open. In it were clothes finer than just about anything I had in my closet back home. He took out a few pieces, mostly dark in color, all made of fine fabrics that even looked expensive. He looked concentrated as he held them to my face one by one, in the end handing me the one he thought would look best and smiling, about to leave the room again before he noticed the redness in my cheeks, the puffiness in my eyes. His expression quickly changed to worry as he held one of my cheeks, examining my eyes.

“I'm okay… I'm homesick already.”

He made a sympathetic face, his other hand coming up to my face as well and holding it gently. I smiled at him, sniffling and taking a breath. He gave my cheek a light pat, and left the room so I could dress up for dinner. As I changed, I thought of Hyunjin. Who was he before? Before the curse affected him, before he lost his speech? Was he always “help”, or was he a prince just like Felix? Did he live here, or was he taken, like me? I sighed to myself as I straightened out my hair in the mirror, brushing the wrinkles off of my new outfit, and heading out the door. Hyunjin’s jaw dropped as I came into view, his hand coming to his chest as he eyed my new look, circling me and then giving me an excited thumbs up. I couldn't help but smile back at him as he offered me his arm, and we headed down the stairs.

Felix waited at the bottom, also dressed in more… regal looking clothes. A blue suit coat with tails, a white frilly shirt underneath and black pants. His hair was slicked back, but still down, a few stubborn strands hanging in his face. I couldn't help but stare as he fumbled nervously with the rings on his hands, not meeting my eyes. He was handsome, alright. Hyunjin noticed my staring and nudged my side teasingly, giving me a smile. I smacked him gently and smiled back.

Once Felix finally noticed us coming down the steps, he seemed to stop as well, staring me up and down in my new clothes. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, evidently getting more nervous.

“How do I look? Hyunjin, here, has an eye for this kind of thing.” I looked up at the darker haired man who smiled, rolling his eyes and flapping his hand as if to say, “Its nothing,”

“You look… fine. Let's just eat,” Felix cleared his throat, and Hyunjin almost passed me to him, letting my arm wrap around Felix’s. Hyunjin stopped me and flashed me thumbs up, eyebrows raised as if it were a question. I nodded, and Hyujin returned it and walked away.

“You and Hyunjin seem to be becoming fast friends,” Felix commented, obviously still nervous, “Are you… settling in okay?”

“Felix… you don't have to do that, you know.”

He scoffed, “Do what, exactly?”

“... Pretend like you want to talk to me.”

He was silent the rest of the walk to the dining hall, a grand feast being all set up on the table. Another man with a square jawline and sharp cupid's bow was finishing up setting the table, smiling at us as we walked in. I thanked whatever deity that could hear me that the table wasn't one of those awfully long, royal dining tables with two seats miles apart. How awkward.

The man pulled out a chair for me and I smiled, nodding and giving him a quiet, “Thank you.”

“That's Jeongin.”

The man in question smiled and took my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. I giggled a little, “It's very nice to meet you, Jeongin.”

Once the candles were lit and Jeongin had left, hopefully to go eat his own meal for the evening, we ate quietly. The air was less tense now, the silence between the two of us not as awkward or formal as it had been. I observed him quietly as I ate, noticing the freckles that littered his cheeks like stars and his wide eyes, his irises, dark brown pearls that sparkled in the light of the candles and the rising moon.

“Who said I didn't want to?”

I froze, “I'm.. I'm sorry, I don't quite understand what you mean.”

“I… I never said I didn't want to talk to you, or that I was ‘pretending’ to want to talk to you.” He didn't meet my eyes as he spoke, just picking at his plate nervously, “I… I think we should… at least get to know each other a little, if you're going to be stuck in my castle.”

Somehow, someway, it occurred to me then and only then… it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to me, it was that… he didn't know how. When was the last time he had talked to anyone that could respond to him? When was the last time he met someone who didn't immediately cower at the sight of him? A small smile crossed my cheeks, and as I let out a breathy chuckle I watched his cheeks and ears turn pink.

“I would like that, Felix.”

“I'm… I'm sorry I called your name dumb.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little as I went back to my meal. From there, the conversation flowed a bit more easily. There were a few awkward bumps, I learned my boundaries of discussion with the lost prince fairly quickly. At the end of our meal, he even walked me to my bedroom, giving me a small smile and a bow.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Felix.” My voice came out wobbly, a lot breathier than I meant it to. His smirk told me he noticed as he turned and walked down the stairs towards the West Wing of the castle. I entered my bedroom and was almost immediately disturbed by a knock on the door. I opened it to find Hyunjin and Jeongin, both smiling expectantly. I rolled my eyes and let them in, Jeongin placing a tea set down and pouring a cup while Hyunjin set up a privacy screen and grabbed a night gown from the dresser, slinging it over the screen. I nodded in thanks, but before I could disappear behind the screen, Hyunjin grabbed my arm, motioning to his lips, to him and Jeongin, and then imitating eating with a fork. ‘Tell us about dinner,’ his actions beckoned.

“... You want to know how dinner was? It was… It was nice,” I said with a smile, disappearing behind the shade as I heard a sigh, and came around the corner just in time to see them shaking their heads in disappointment.

“What?! I have nothing else to say,” I giggled, “If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to set me up with your boss.”

Hyunjin feigned hurt, his hand lightly brushing his chest as his jaw dropped, Jeongin behind him looking around and pretending not to hear me. I couldn't help but giggle at their antics as Hyunjin looked at Jeongin and pointed at him, who shook his head and pointed in return. They both looked back at me and shrugged, and I rolled my eyes, sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace as Jeongin lit it for me.

“Yeah, well, you have to get him to like me first. We can talk when he promotes me from prisoner to house guest, how’s that?” We shared silent laughter, the two boys putting their hands up in defeat. Jeongin got up to leave, and before Hyunjin followed him out the door he took my hand and gave it a squeeze. I returned it, smiling up at him. As they left, the sound of the door shutting echoing through the room, I sighed and stared into the fire. There were worse places to be.

Over the next couple of days, sleep came surprisingly easy, especially in such a comfortable bed. Other than dinner, Felix mostly left me alone; whether it was to let me adjust, or because he didn't want to see me, I wasn't terribly concerned which. Both days Hyunjin entered my room shortly after sunrise to wake me, Jeongin following behind with a tea tray. They picked out an outfit for me together and left me to change. I spent this alone time going through the books in the case by the fireplace, flying through title after title.

The third day started as normal, however once I was changed, Hyunjin came back into my room, offering his arm with a smile. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just winked at me and gave me a nudge. Although cautious still, I couldn't help but trust him. Maybe it was his kind smile… or maybe, his gentle eyes. Either way I hooked my arm around his, and just like my first evening, he led me down the stairs to meet Felix in the foyer. He was dressed in a frilly white shirt with a low neckline, sleeves rolled up, and black pants, raven-colored hair half up in a bun while the rest fell at his shoulders. Save for the hair, he looked just like he did when I met him, just less bloody.

“Good morning.” He said curtly, “I… I know I've told you where you can't go… but I wanted to show you some places you can. If… you want me to.”

He offered his arm without looking at me. I couldn't help but smirk to myself a little as I took it. He showed me the main sitting room, the sunroom on the roof, and a washroom with a huge clawfoot tub. I nearly salivated at the thought of taking nice, warm baths in that thing.

“It's… a bathtub,” Felix sounded genuinely confused, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a huge bathtub,” I moved further into the washroom to inspect it. Felix followed behind me, a single eyebrow raised as he watched me.

“Free meals, the finest clothes in a continent, a whole castle, and you’re this excited about… a bathtub,” He teased.

“Can we stop saying it? It’s starting to sound like a fake word.”

“What? Bathtub?”

“… I hate you.”

“I’m sure.”

Something felt different as I took his arm again. He wasn’t scowling, or avoiding my eyes, or insulting me. His expression wasn’t hateful, or malicious, or irritated. Time stopped for a moment as our eyes met again, faces close together now as our arms linked. There was something pretty about him. Maybe it was his plump, pink lips, or the curve of his nose. The way his smile, as rare as it was, made his eyes crinkle nearly shut, or the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he laughed. He cleared his throat, and I realized just how long I had been staring at his mouth, quickly averting my eyes to the floor as we continued on.

The castle library was huge, wall to wall to wall lined with thousands of books. I was in such awe at the sheer amount that he actually chuckled at me, once again teasing me with a smile.

“Bathtubs, and books. You’re a very simple person to please.”

“I’ll be the happiest prisoner you’ve ever had with access to all these books,” I picked a random title off of one of the shelves and read the description on the back.

“A whole castle, and they’re going to spend most of their time in a tub or a library,” Felix mumbled quietly, voice almost so low I couldn’t hear it. I squinted at him.

“Better in here than in your hair, right?” I reached for his arm on instinct, he gladly obliged.

“You have a point.”

I told him I was going to spend the day in the sunroom on top of the castle, having grabbed a couple books as we left the library. He disappeared, only for a moment before I heard the door open and close again, Felix joining me on the sofa. It was a sunny day, the snow and rain finally slowing and the clouds parting. How I loved sunny spring days. Even more so spent with a good book.

I was disturbed from my book by a hand nudging my own. Felix’s face was still buried in his book, his cheeks red, as he tried to ignore the fact that his fingers were ever so gently brushing my knuckles. I let my own wander along his rings, up and down his hands. They were softer than I thought they’d be. Eventually his index finger hooked itself around my own, loosely at first, then tightening once I didn't pull away. I couldn't help but smile a little, leaning my face forward to feel the sun on my cheeks. It was… the most pleasant I had felt in days. Felix’s face even relaxed a little and his eyes stopped scanning the same line, finally able to focus.

We ate dinner together like usual, the conversation about the respective books we were reading flowing like water, almost effortless, as if we had known each other forever. As we laughed, and I got a good look at his smile, my heart seemed to flutter in my chest. His laugh reverberated through the air, and I couldn't help but pause, and just… listen. Of course once he realized, he got shy. He cleared his throat and cast his gaze downward. We walked around the palace again after we ate, neither of us really wanting to part from each other for bed just yet. Eventually, however, we meandered our way to my bedroom.

“Thank you… for today, I mean,” I nervously played with my knuckles as I spoke, unable to meet Felix’s eyes, “It… it meant a lot to me, makes me feel a lot less like a prisoner, you know?”

Felix’s only response was to lean downward and kiss me on the cheek. The motion made my whole body pause, my cheeks burned as the scent of his cologne assaulted my senses, a sharp, citrusy foreground and a hint of sweetness in the background. I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his in an instant. Both our cheeks burned a bright red, and he cleared his throat again before giving me a nod.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” His voice was destructively soft, my knees going weak at the sound.

“Goodnight Felix,” I reached up to give his arm a gentle squeeze, debating going in for a hug… and then deciding against it. Once I got into my room and shut the door, I desperately tried to slow my breathing, cupping my own cheeks trying to cool them down. All of this drama for a man I just met. How irritating.

Hyunjin and Jeongin came in shortly afterwards. I'm not sure why I tried to hide my embarrassment from Hyunjin, he could read me like a book. He noticed how flustered I was almost immediately and grabbed my shoulders, raising an eyebrow at me. Jeongin was at his side shortly after.

“What?”

He raised his other eyebrow.

“Alright, alright… he might’ve… kissed me.”

Hyunjin’s face dropped, his breathing going shallow and then… a strangled noise came out of his mouth. He touches his throat, swallowing, and then trying to speak again. As he tried, and tried again, his eyes lost more and more hope.

“What… hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?” I grabbed his arms, gently rubbing circles with my thumbs. He pointed to his cheek… and then his lips. My fingers came up to touch my cheek, and he sighed, his face falling. The dots finally connected themselves in my head then.

“Hyunjin,” I hooked my finger under his chin, forcing him to look at me, “I need to know exactly what's going on here. I want to help you… all three of you.”

Hyunjin sighed, Jeongin coming up behind him and grabbing his shoulder, furiously shaking his head, ‘no.’

“Why not? If you guys want to get your voices back, I need to know how I can help.” I pleaded, Hyunjin sighed and separated himself from me, beginning to clean up the tea set, the old clothes, and my paper and quill, leaving me the cup of tea to drink before bed, and following Jeongin out. He gave me a sad smile as they left in a hurry, slamming the door behind them. I stood in the center of my room, bewildered. I sighed, sitting down in my chair by the fireplace, picking up the book I had started and opening it to my bookmarked page to begin reading before bed when a paper fell out.

(Y/N),

You were right. You deserve to know the truth. Follow the hallway to the West Wing that Felix takes every night once the clocks strike midnight. I’ll meet you there, and I’ll show you everything you need to know. Please don't tell Jeongin.

If I may, I'm begging you not to leave after you see this. Please have faith in us.

Hyunjin

As midnight struck and the grandfather clocks could be heard harmonizing all through the castle, I opened my bedroom door, having re-dressed myself in some of the more simple clothes in the wardrobe. I gently walked through the castle halls, following the same route Felix did every evening after he walked me to my bedroom. I came across the door to the West Wing of the castle after turning a corner, and my heart dropped to my stomach. Covered in claw marks, a large metal door with a padlock stood before me. I turned away, looking to find a different way in, but ran into a sturdy chest instead.

Hyunjin caught my arms, a somber look on his face. He sighed, turning me around to face the door again before taking a key out of his pocket. He took a deep breath, undoing the padlock and putting it into his pocket. He gave me a look, sad, and scared, almost asking if I was sure I wanted to do this. I nodded, taking a deep breath of my own and trying to steady my heart.

The door creaked open, revealing a corridor that didn't look quite… done yet. The wallpaper was coming off the walls and the carpets were torn in some places, the wooden floors damaged and unfinished in some spots. Thunder rumbled in the distance as I heard the door creak shut, Hyunjin closing it and taking my arm as he had so many times since I got here. I clutched onto his forearm tightly, taking slow and tentative steps down the corridor. Once we reached a certain point in the hallway, Hyunjin tapped my arm and nodded to the paintings on the walls.

There was one of a man, who looked just like Felix, sitting atop a pile of gold. A witch, old and grimey, in a black robe with a pointy hat. Felix and the witch having an argument, the witch placing a spell on the castle. A single red rose, a petal falling slowly to the ground, as a big, brown beast loomed in the background. The last was of Felix, lying on the ground, the rose dead and wilted.

My lungs entirely emptied themselves of air as if I had been punched, my eyes burning with tears. Hyunjin noticed this immediately, tugging me across the hall to the next painting. It was… Felix, and another person. They were holding each other, the rose fully intact. The cogs in my brain spun as I looked at Hyunjin.

“If Felix doesn't get someone to fall in love with him before the petals fall off of the rose… he’ll die,” I whispered, “...But if he does fall in love and it’s requited… he gets to live?”

Hyunjin nodded, then pointed to his throat.

“... And you'll get to speak again?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time. I sighed, dread settling into my chest. Hyunjin led me through the hallway, opening the door to what, at first, looked like a storage area. However the further we got, the more visible a dim, red glow became. Hyunjin let go of my arm as I followed the light, and once I moved the boxes and other junk, there it was.

The rose. Sitting under a glass case, one petal left. Tears came to my eyes again. One. He had one chance left… before… that was it. I backed away slowly, my breath coming in short, rapid pulls as I clutched at my chest. The room seemed to cave in around me as I moved backwards, Hyunjin catching me and pulling me into his arms, leading me out of the room. He shut the door behind him, pulling me arms length away and looking into my eyes, nodding the usual question.

Are you okay?

I nodded, wiping my tears. Hyunjin took a deep breath, prompting me with a wave of his hands to do the same, and we continued down the hallway. The further we got down the hallway, the louder this... banging had become. It was shaking the walls, Hyunjin was becoming increasingly nervous as we ventured on. As we turned the corner we came across another metal door, this one in even worse shape than the last. Whatever was behind it pounded on it and bellowed.

“Stupid… (Y/N)… stupid… witch…”

“No…” I whispered, “Tell me that isn't…”

Hyunjin’s eyes took their turn filling to the brim with tears as he nodded. His eyes did not meet mine, trained on the door as a tear fell down his cheek. I took a deep inhale, turning to the door and placing a hand on it, then, before Hyunjin could stop me, opening it slowly. It creaked, causing the large, brown-furred, bear-looking monster in front of me to pause. He turned to face me, a snarl ever-present on his face, his large, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight. His eyes were a cloudy grey, I almost wondered if he could see me at all. I was clued into the fact that he could as he threw a chair at the door, letting out the loudest roar I had ever heard.

“Get… OUT!”

I shut the door just in time for the chair to hit it, smashing into pieces on impact. Another roar could be heard, and then bounding footsteps away from the door. I leaned my back against it, facing Hyunjin, who wasn't doing much better than I was. His cheeks were puffy, eyes rimmed red and brimming with tears. I nearly slid down the door, but Hyunjin caught me, taking me by the shoulders with a sniffle and leading me away from the door, from the West Wing, away from Felix. As we stopped in front of my bedroom, he pulled me into a tight hug, burying his head in my shoulders.

“You really care about him… don't you?”

Hyunjin nodded, not meeting my gaze. I sighed.

“Me too.”

I didn't sleep well that night. Hyunjin came to wake me after what felt like minutes, pulling open the blinds and gently shaking my shoulder. Jeongin poured me a cup of tea, same as every morning, except this time with a glare at Hyunjin. The air felt heavy around us as we got ready for our day, same as we had been, just a lot… quieter. Hyunjin tried to take the tray from Jeongin, however Jeongin swiped it away and shot him a pointed glance. Once dressed, I looked at Hyunjin sternly.

“Take me to him.”

Jeongin stepped in, touching Hyunjin’s shoulder with a shake of his head, but I stopped him, “Don't. I need to speak with him. Take. Me. To him.”

Jeongin’s grip tightened on Hyunjin’s shoulder, who shook it off and returned his glare from earlier. The two stayed like this for a while before Jeongin finally sighed, stomping out of the room. Hyunjin offered his arm to me then, refusing to meet my eyes. I desperately hoped this would go smoother than it was shaping out to as Hyunjin brought me to the sunroom. Felix stood with his face to the sky, enjoying the sun across his cheeks. A pit formed in my stomach as I looked at him. Both of nerves, and of…despair. He was beautiful. He was the sunshine itself. My heart rate rose and heat fanned across my cheeks as I looked at him, a realization I had prayed I would never come to hit me like a sack of bricks. In that moment, watching the peace dance across his face in the form of sunbeams and shadows, I knew.

I did not know if it would be enough to break the curse, but I knew.

“What did I tell you?” He asked quietly. I swallowed hard.

“Not to go into the West Wing.”

“And what did you do?”

“Felix, I-”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

“... I disobeyed you.”

“You disobeyed me. Do you even realize how hurt you could have gotten had I not realized it was you in there?” Felix closed in on me as his voice rose in volume. I tried to stand my ground.

“I… I deserve to know what’s going on, Felix, maybe I can help, I-”

“You have no idea what I am up against here. Absolutely none.” His eyes flickered between my own, our faces so close our noses almost touched. The proximity made me dizzy as he glared into my eyes.

“I would if you would talk to me. I want to help you, I… I care ab-” He turned away, cutting off my sentence.

“You do not. Don't lie to me like that.”

“I'm not lying, you idiot, don't tell me how I feel.”

“Go away.”

“No, Felix, please…”

He spun around to meet my eyes as he glared daggers as sharp as his voice, speaking through gritted teeth, “I said. Go. Away.”

I opened my mouth to argue, and shut it again. There was nothing I could say that would make him listen. I sighed, turning on my heels and walking out the door and down the steps to the main floor, my shoes clicking as I walked. I slammed my door shut once I reached my room, collapsing against it and into tears. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Regret swirled around in my head and my stomach as I crossed my arms over my bent knees, clutching at my elbows as I wept. I wished I had never gone into the woods that day. I wished I had never met him. At least then, I wouldn't know the pain of pining over someone who was just lonely. Minutes, or maybe hours, passed, and as my sobs began to slow and my breath stilled, a knock on the door shook me from my shaken stupor.

The sun was just beginning to set, beams of purple and pink streaking through my bedroom windows. I sighed, getting up from my spot on the floor and opening the door, then walking to my desk, figuring it was just Hyunjin and Jeongin. However, when the room wasn't filled with the sounds of the two puttering around, I paused, looking towards the door. There stood Felix, eyes looking everywhere but me as he played with the rings on his fingers.

“You can come in, I don't bite,” My tone sharpened as the last word left my mouth, and I regretted it instantly.

He stepped over the threshold slowly, eyes finally meeting my own. They were rimmed red, his eyes glazed and bloodshot while his lids were puffy. I stood immediately, rushing to him and placing my hands on his shoulders. He flinched at my touch, but didn't shy away from it.

“What's wrong, Felix?”

“I… I think it's best if you go.”

“...What?” His lips wobbled as he tried to regain his composure.

“I said,” He shook my arms off of him, steeling his gaze, even though his eyes were still teary, “Go. I have no use for you anymore. Get the hell out of my castle.”

My heart lurched as he turned and started to walk away, my words bubbling up and out of my mouth in sheer and utter panic, “I know about the rose.”

He stopped, his shoulders tensing. I tried to still my shaking hands as I continued, “I found it… when I found you. I… I want to help you, Felix, you just have to let me, I-”

“Stop pretending you know anything about me,” He growled as he grabbed me by my shoulders, shaking me as he spoke, “I've known you a week. You know absolutely nothing about the curse I bear.”

“This doesn't have to be so complicated, Felix, just talk to me,” I pleaded, my voice coming out in broken sobs. Tears filled his eyes as he pushed me forcefully out of the bedroom, taking a shaky breath before screaming.

“Just go!”

Adrenaline took over, and I took off running as fast as I could. I tore through the halls, trying to block out Felix’s angry sobs, but they echoed in my head as they turned into screams that could be heard throughout the halls. My heavy breathing turned into cries of anguish and agony as I rounded the corner to the foyer. Hyunjin was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, arms open, and I ran into them, burying my face in his chest as he led me outside and onto a carriage. Thunder rumbled, and rain began to fall. I watched it dribble down the carriage window and thought about Felix. Would he remember me? Would he be conscious somewhere inside that monster for the rest of his life?

Hyunjin put a hand on mine, a sad smile crossing his cheeks as tears welled up in his eyes as well. I took his hand in my own, running my fingers over his knuckles and desperately trying to ground myself, to come back to the moment. I would see my brother again, at least. I would be home, all that was left to do would be to try and forget Felix existed. I knew it would take me my whole life to do so, but tried desperately to hold onto hope as the carriage continued into the woods.

The moon was well into the sky, Felix had to be far gone by now, and I worried about the rose. The last petal… hanging on by a thread. It was almost too much to bear. The carriage came to an abrupt halt, Hyunjin jolting awake at the rumbling and the sound of yelling. I looked out the window carefully shielding the rose from sight. It looked like people from my village, but it wasn't until my brother spoke that it solidified in my brain.

“This is from the palace alright, be careful, It could be-”

I panicked, hopping out of the carriage and facing him. His face immediately flooded with relief as he rushed to me, picking me up in his arms.

“Thank God… you're alright.”

“Of course I am, let's just go home,” I couldn't bear to sound happy to see him. I was exhausted, my eyes having shed every tear they were physically capable.

“Absolutely not. I told him I would kill him, and I'm going to make good on my word.”

I separated myself from him abruptly, a stern look in my eyes, “(B/n)… Felix isn't who the legends say he is, he isn't a monster. The reason these woods are dangerous is the wolves, or… something, he-”

My brother scoffed as he interrupted, “Don't… don't tell me you're sticking up for that monster? He kidnapped you!”

“He saved me from wolves, we were on his land! The only reason I left was because… well, I did something I wasn’t supposed to and we fought… but he needs help, (b/n), please listen to me,” I pleaded, my brother walking towards the carriage, towards Hyunjin.

“You. What are you, her guard? Making sure she gets back to her prison before morning?!”

I grabbed his arm, trying to get him away from Hyunjin as best I could, “Leave him alone, he hasn't done anything wrong!”

“Bullshit, he’s an accomplice, and I'm going to try him as such when we get him back to the village.” The bigger man shook me off his arm, sending me tumbling to the ground. Hyunjin fell to the back of the carriage, kicking at my brother and desperately trying to get him out of the carriage. I was up on my feet at the same time he finally managed to kick my brother away from him. As I stood I ran and slapped the horse drawing the carriage.

“Run! Hyunjin, protect Felix!”

“What the hell are you thinking?!” My brother exclaimed as he stood, shaking the snow off of him. I watched as the carriage rushed away, the village people getting back onto their horses to chase after it. My brother grabbed my wrist, cuffing it to one end of a chain and locking the other end to a tree.

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know what he’s done to you, or what’s come over you, but I swear I'll find and kill him!” He spoke with such a vengeance it sent shivers down my spine. I tugged at the chain hard, trying desperately to get myself loose.

“Unchain me, now, don't you touch him!”

He ignored me, stomping towards his horse and hopping into the saddle. He tossed me a small sword out of a hilt on his saddle, and was gone just as quick as he arrived, putting the helmet on as he disappeared from view.

“Get back here!”

My breath came in short jolts as my heartbeat echoed in my ears, my head felt like the blood had been drained from it and I felt woozy. I tried to still my breathing, anything to think of a plan. The trees seemed to swirl, move, vibrate around me, and I closed my eyes, holding my head in my hands. My own breathing was beginning to deafen me, I had to get out of this, I had to get to Felix before (B/N) did. If I didn't… if I lost him… the thought tore a sob from my throat as I tugged harder on the chains at my wrist. The sound of hooves rushing toward me blended in with the sound of my panicked breathing as I looked around the woods, and it wasn't until nimble fingers picked the lock on the chain and it fell to the ground that I spun around, meeting eyes with Hyunjin once again.

“Hyunjin…” I rushed him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders quickly, “We need to go, Felix is in danger!”

Hyunjin hopped onto the horse that had been towing the carriage, my assumption that it had been forgotten in the woods, along with the animated armor that controlled it, and reached for my hand. I jumped as high as I could, Hyunjin doing the rest of the heavy lifting and pulling me up to sit in front of him on the saddle and prompting the horse to run.

Once we reached the castle we could already hear yelling from inside. Hyunjin helped me to the ground, and as soon as my feet hit the cobblestone I tore up the stairs, sprinting as fast as they would carry me. The sky was beginning to lighten, in just a few minutes Felix would be a man again, we could talk about this. I just needed to reach him. I just needed to reach him. I ran through the castle, headed towards the West Wing, only to be interrupted by a roar from the attic’s trap door entrance.

I jumped and pulled the string to the door, the steps shooting out with a loud crash. I hurried up, stumbling a little, and rushing through the attic doors to the sunroom, seeing a large hole in the glass covered in blood. I panicked, rushing onto the roof so fast I almost collided with the Beast’s brown fur. I spun around him just in time to grab my brother’s hand as he nearly plummeted a sword directly into the Beast's head.

“Stop!!”

The world stood still as my brother… The one who had raised me… stared at me in disbelief. I wrestled the sword from him and turned it to point at him as the beast behind me groaned and bellowed.

“Don't… touch him…” I said between gasps of air, my lungs on fire from the running, “Don't… even think about it.”

“What the hell are you doing, (Y/N)?”

“I'm returning the favor he did me when I met him,” I spat, “Would you just give me a second to explain, (b/n), please.”

“Oh, you mean, when he met and kidnapped you? Look at him now, (Y/N), don’t you realize how much danger you’re in?”

I didn’t respond, holding my ground, near white-knuckling the hilt of the sword. (B/N) slowly stepped forward, causing Felix to snarl behind me, “If you think I’m going to just leave you with the man who took you away from me, especially when he turns into this… you’re insane. Now move.”

“Never.”

“(Y/N)-”

“If you want to kill him, you'll have to kill me too.”

His jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as he seemingly weighed his options before lowering his hands, “This had better be good, (Y/N).”

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and turned, tossing the sword to the side, my eyes closed as I faced Felix. As they opened, the sight could have killed me right then and there. He was badly injured, bleeding from his head, and a large cut on his chest, as well as abrasions on his arm where he had obviously crashed through the glass to the sunroom. A sob left my lips.

“What did they do to you…?”

I approached slowly, hand outstretched. The beast before me quivered, snarling quietly, and then seeming to calm down. I heard footsteps bounding up the stairs, Hyunjin now holding the rose and Jeongin desperately trying to keep his tears in.

“Just wait for the sun to rise… Once it hits him, it'll all make sense, trust me.”

The beast moved slowly. I, even slower, until my hand rested on his forehead. He leaned into my touch, as if, even for just a moment, he remembered it. As if he remembered what it was like to be loved, to be known. As if he was looking through Felix’s eyes and remembered… me, who showed him kindness. Me, who patched him up after he was rude to me. Me, who took the time to dine with him and asked him questions about himself. Me, who let him let his walls down.

The sun’s bright, blinding rays finally peeked over the mountains. The last petal wobbled on its stem, about to fall. As the sun's warmth touched our faces, all of the air in my lungs released itself through my mouth. Felix hadn't changed, my hand still resting on brown fur as tears gathered in my eyes.

“No, he’s-” I whimpered, “He’s supposed to be human, it's sunrise, he…”

I turned to Hyunjin, who held the rose up. The very last petal was fluttering now, about to fall. I couldn't help but get closer, at least if he killed me I would die knowing no world without Felix. I would know no palace walls empty of his pictures, I would know no forest I met him in, nor brother who killed him. I might know peace. I took a breath and tried to get the words out before that last petal could hit the bottom of the case.

“I love you, even if you kill me here. I love you if you’re never human again. I love you if the sun doesn't come up tomorrow. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

I sobbed as I wrapped both arms around the hulking, furry shoulders of the beast before me, not bothering to hold back for the sake of my dignity, or for the sake of Felix, who I wasn't totally sure was in there. I sobbed uncontrollably as the beast went silent, the sun still steadily rising in the sky. Hyunjin and Jeongin wept from behind me as well, my brother’s sword clanking to the ground. I prepared myself for claws, for Felix to disappear and for the beast to bring me peace. But… like in the woods, the teeth never came. The snarling stopped, and suddenly the shoulders I had been leaning on disappeared. I nearly fell forward, steadying myself quickly and trying to see through the bright, white light that had replaced the hulking fur and muscle before me.

I stepped backwards slightly, trying to shield my eyes from the light as I watched it get smaller… and smaller. Panic set in, and then, indescribable relief as the light dissipated, and there floated Felix, his hair messy and his clothes tattered and bloodstained, the abrasions on his arm and cuts through his chest still present, luckily not as prominent as they were on the beast. He didn’t move as he hit the ground, his face resting as if he were just sleeping. It would be a beautiful sight were he not also covered in blood.

“Felix…” I gasped, falling to my knees in a hurry and cupping one of his cheeks in my hand, “Felix… Can you hear me?”

Nothing. I rested my head on his chest, trying to listen for a heartbeat but my own was so loud in my ears it was hard to focus on anything else. I sobbed, gathering his lifeless body into my lap and hugging his face as close to my chest as I could, rocking back and forth. At this moment, I couldn't stop myself from going right back to hating him. I hated him for showing me kindness even though I was his prisoner, for not killing me for trespassing, and for not being the monster I had always assumed he was. I hated him for his adorable stubbornness. I hated him for sharing my love of literature. I hated him for how kind his smile was, when he let it be. I hated him because I would never see the torchlight flickering in his soft brown irises again, I would never get to learn his favorite color, or favorite food.

(B/N) knelt next to me, face twisted in confusion, but also… pity, and concern. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t hear anything he was saying. Felix’s name fell from my mouth over, and over, and over again as I pressed my face into his hair.

“Please, Felix. Not now, we were so… we were so close, Felix… Please,” I gasped, peppering kisses all over his head as I held him.

“(Y/N)...” I flinched, harshly moving Felix away from him as (B/N) reached out to touch me.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” I snarled, “You did this. I almost had it, I almost… I almost fixed it… and you ruined it! I was so close… we were so… close.”

“(Y/N), he manipulated you, he-”

“He saved me!” My vocal cords strained as I shouted, “He did what he had to to break a curse, he was grumpy, and he was standoffish, but, damn it, he was a good man, (B/N), and you murdered him!”

He was quick to his feet, seemingly about to grab at me, but before he got the chance Hyunjin stormed up to us, Jeongin close behind, grabbing (B/N) by each arm and hoisting him upwards. The two were a lot stronger than they looked. I turned back to the man in my arms as (B/N) struggled against them, yelling something my brain either could not or would not process, as the two boys dragged him away.

“You can’t… you can’t just be… gone,” I whispered as my sobs slowed and I leaned down to press my face against the prince’s, peppering kisses across his cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead, before finally lingering at his lips. It was gentle, unreciprocated, and wet with tears, but God, was it beautiful. In that moment I knew I would die thinking about how his lips felt on my own, regardless of how long from now it would be. I parted from him slowly, staring down at his face and hoping that moment would come sooner rather than later, only to be startled by his flickering eyelids.

“… Felix?”

He stirred, so lightly at first I might have missed it had I not been staring so intently at his face, then sucked in a gasp.

“Ah—“ He hissed, his hand covering the scratches on his chest, his breathing choppy and shallow as he tried to sit up, his eyes frantically searching the roof… until they landed on me. His face relaxed, eyebrows unwrinkled, his mouth fell slack, and tears came to his eyes. His hand came up to touch my face, my shoulders, chest, and arms, as if he needed to let his fingertips wander to believe I was really there.

“You… You came back?”

“Of course I came back, stupid,” I sobbed, pulling him into a hug as I cried into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around me, hands clutching at the back of my shirt. Being in his arms… hearing his voice, it all just felt so… right. My shoulders relaxed, and I let my eyes slip closed as I enjoyed his touch, his cologne’s scent mixing with the scent of his sweat lulling me into a sense of… safety. Belonging.

I had opened my eyes for just a moment before I caught the glint of metal shining in the morning sun. I pulled Felix into my chest tightly and turned so I was above him, holding my hand out above the both of us. The pain reverberated down my entire arm as the sword hit my hand. It was dull enough that it didn't slice my hand clean off, at least, but still sharp enough that the skin of my palm tore with the impact. My brother stood on the other end of it, eyes wild with fury. Hyunjin and Jeongin lay on the ground behind him, both slowly getting up.

“Don't… touch… them…” My heart swelled at the sound of a voice I had never heard before. Jeongin stood, holding his arm as if he’d injured it, “Don't you dare.”

“(Y/N),” (B/N) all but growled at me, “I'm not going to ask you again. Move.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” My voice did not waver, and I tried not to be distracted by Hyunjin behind him, who had rolled onto his stomach and was now on his knees, holding his own shoe above his head. With a grunt, he tossed it, and it hit (B/N) directly in the back of the head. I kicked at his hands while he was distracted, quickly disarming him, picking up the sword and once again turning his own weapon on him. I swung blindly, desperately trying to put as much space between him and Felix as physically possible, unadulterated fear accompanied my anger in every slash, every step. I had to protect Felix. I had to make sure he was safe.

“(Y/N)!” Felix’s voice was wobbly as he tried to sit up, holding his chest as he spoke, “Hyunjin, stop them!”

“How many times,” I swung again, “... do I have to tell you… I won't let you hurt him!”

Hyunjin rushed me, trying to grab at the sword as best he could, but it was no use. I couldn't see anything anymore, blind rage pulsing through every vein in my body, knuckles white with the grip I had on the sword. I swung, and swung, and swung, getting closer and closer to the edge of the roof. My name bubbled up and out of Felix’s mouth once more as he forced himself onto his feet and stumbled towards me. I couldn't hear him. (B/N) held his hands up as he reached the lip of the flat roof. He tried desperately to keep his footing, but slipped on the wet surface, yelping as he went.

“Hyunjin!!”

The world stood still as a hand gripped my wrist tightly, the only sound being mine and Felix’s heavy breathing and the rain pattering against the cobblestone. Slowly, the stars in my vision dissipated, and I could finally see the scene around me. Hyunjin hanging off the roof, Jeongin rushing to help pull my brother up and onto his feet, my brother’s eyes wide with terror and confusion as he grasped at the fabric of his tunic over his heart, bloody scrapes littering his arms with one on his forehead. Finally, Felix. The look on his face could have killed me. Concern, fear, sadness, all greatly evident in his swirling brown eyes.

“F-Felix…”

“Shhhh…” Felix hushed as I dropped the sword behind me onto the cobblestone of the roof, “Easy, (Y/N)... Everything is alright. I'm alright.”

“What… What's the matter? I thought you’d jump at the chance to see me dead.” My brother spat through ragged breaths as he glared daggers at the raven-haired man beside me. I helped Felix down to the ground, mostly trying to ignore my brother's cold stare as I looked over his injuries.

“I…” Felix sighed dejectedly, his eyes turning downward, anything to avoid my brother’s, “I'm not a bad man, (B/N).”

“You're just grumpy.”

I turned to see Hyunjin, arms crossed as he walked to sit next to Felix. I couldn't help but smile, taking his hand in my own and giving it a squeeze.

“... and picky,” Jeongin added as he sat down next to us.

“... and stubborn,” I couldn't help but add, smirking a little and moving some of Felix’s raven hair out of his face as I continued to clean Felix’s wounds.

“Alright, Alright…” Felix hissed as I touched a particularly deep cut, then sighing again and looking at me, “My point is… I'm not the monster your stories made me out to be. I’ve never tried to be.”

Felix took my cheek in one of his hands then, and I paused. His eyes flickered all around my face; to my cheeks, nose, mouth, and back to my eyes again as he continued, “... I know it didn't seem like it at first, but I would never… ever intentionally hurt (Y/N), or anyone they care about.”

Had I been standing, I would have collapsed at the intensity in his words, in contrast with the gentleness of his touch. My brother sighed, his face twisting in embarrassment, doubt, as he sat down on the roof and let Hyunjin check on him. We recounted and explained everything then. The curse, the boys who lived with Felix, and the intricacies of our situation. I verbally meandered through the last week, answering his questions about it, and although he and Felix were definitely… hesitant… to get to know one another, but I couldn't bring myself to care much. Hyunjin mentioned having tea together, which my brother hastily declined. He used the excuse that the village would come looking for him and he needed to get back, but the look in his eyes told me what I needed to know. I hoped to myself that he would come around eventually as I bid him goodbye, and sent him on his way.

“What. A. Morning. Tea will be ready in ten, let’s… not have it up here.” Hyunjin chuckled as he eyed the bloodied hole in the glass, giving my shoulder a squeeze as he took Jeongin by the shoulder and took him downstairs with him. I turned back to Felix, slinging his arm around my shoulders and helping him up. Once he was stable on his feet, I started to walk him toward the door, but he stepped in front of me, hands cupping both of my cheeks.

“(Y/N).” his voice came out in a near-desperate whisper even though we had been left alone on the roof, his eyes bore intensely into my own. My heart lurched into my throat, and I desperately willed my cheeks to cool under his stare.

“Felix…”

Not one more word was said. Felix pulled my face closer to his own, plump lips pressing against mine. I didn’t have any more hesitation in me, I eagerly returned his movements like my life depended on it, my hands wrapping around his bare waist to rest on his back. As the world faded away around us I couldn’t help but relax into him, sighing against his lips with a whimper.

His breath came in shaky pants as he pressed his lips against my own once, twice more, then pulled away. Our eyes met, our cheeks the color of newly sprouted poppies in the Springtime. He chuckled, and I couldn’t help the giggle that made its way up my throat either. It felt like there was a bubble in my chest that I could only burst by laughing, or screaming, or kissing him again. I chose the former of the three, and I kissed him until my lips hurt. I kissed him until my lungs burned from the lack of air. I kissed him until the scent of him made my knees weak, and my entire body shook. I kissed him until I felt my cheeks would explode. We were a mess by the time we finally pulled away from each other, hot breath fanning across my cheeks that only made him want him more. I held back… for now.

“(Y/N)...” He rested his forehead against my own, “I… I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said almost immediately, “I love you more than flowers love the sun.”

“Alright, alright,” He chuckled, “Let's get down there.”

The castle was bustling this morning, I could hear it outside the door of the bedroom. I tried to close my eyes, to get a little bit more sleep. Of course, I would have no such luck. I gave up, turning to wrap an arm around the person who was supposed to be next to me, but finding nothing but a large, empty bed. I groaned, and heard a chuckle from the fireplace.

“Over here, my love.”

I yawned as I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and sleepily stumbling over to where Felix sat, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He kissed my hand, smiling into his book.

“Couldn't sleep?” I mumbled. Felix let out a sigh, closing his book.

“... You're sure we can't cancel tonight?”

I chuckled, coming around the chair to sit on his lap, putting his book onto the table (Saving his place first, I wasn't a monster), and holding his head to my chest, fingers in his hair.

“No, we can't cancel. It's going to be okay, love. Everyone is going to love you, and besides, if they don't, we’re all the way out here!” I kissed the top of his head, and he chuckled a little at me.

“If you say so,” He said as he separated from my chest, smiling up at me. I craned my neck down and pecked him on the lips, sighing as I stood.

“I don't just say so, I know so,” I shot him a wink as I walked to the closet, taking a good look at all of my clothes and beginning to decide what to wear.

Spring and the first month of Summer had gone by like lightning, and now we were in the middle of July. The cicadas sang outside our bedroom windows, the lamplights of the newly-built path to the village slowly turning off one by one with the rising sun. The brilliant pinks and purples told me it was going to rain later, and I couldn't help but get a little excited about the coming showers. As I danced to myself in the mirror, holding two of my fanciest articles of clothing to my face, three quick bangs on the door interrupted my thoughts, and before I could say, ‘Come in,’ Hyunjin all but burst through the door, a smile on his face.

“Good morning, Felix, and good morning, my sunshine!! Todays the day!” He sang, immediately coming up to me and looking over the options I had chosen for my outfit tonight.

“We know today’s the day, Hyunjin, don't be so loud,” Jeongin smirked and rolled his eyes as he approached Felix, the two having quiet conversations about the Summer ball being held at our castle tonight.

Our castle. I loved the sound of that.

Felix came to give me a final kiss as Jeongin took him to a separate dressing room to get ready. Hyunjin finally picked out some clothes for me and opened the screen, standing on the opposite side from me.

“Are you excited, sunshine?”

“Very. Do you think I'll be able to convince Felix to dance?” I half-joked. Hyunjin sighed.

“I hope so. If anyone can, it's you.”

I came around the screen and Hyunjin gave me an audible gasp, “Drop. Dead. You look absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you so very much,” I smiled, and he opened his arms for a hug, which I happily gave him, “What on earth would I do without you?”

“No, no…” Hyunjin pulled apart from me, holding me arms distance away and giving me quite possibly the kindest, gentlest smile he had given me since I met him, “What would I do without you?”

“Die, probably,” I teased, and he laughed, pulling me in again.

The evening went by without a hitch. My brother even showed, although did avoid Felix, and in turn, me, for the better half of the evening. The people of the village were happy here, dancing and laughing and drinking. Felix was only nervous the first hour or so, eventually relenting to my pleas to dance with a nervous smile. As he spun me around the dance floor, all else around us disappeared, and as I stared into his smiling eyes, I knew this was where I was meant to be. I was meant to be in the woods that day all that time ago. I was meant to be in Felix’s arms, I was meant to be in his castle, and sharing in his life. I was meant to love him, just as he was meant to love me.

I had never been so sure of anything in my entire life.

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: When a battle with some Gith hunters leaves your appearance in a deplorable state, it's up to your loyal companions to fix a bad hair day ...

Genres: Humour, fluff, crack.

Written as a gift for the wonderfully talented @radish-breath. Thank you for putting up with (and encouraging) my endless BG3 brain rot, lol.

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

The chaos of the battle was beyond anything you'd known thus far. Vlaakith's hunters were both swift and dexterous, their bodies flickering out of your perception almost every time you tried to land an attack.

It was frustrating, and somewhat terrifying. You'd never encountered foes who had challenged you quite like this before.

Gaining the higher ground, on top of a stone bridge that formed an arch, you ducked down, another arrow nocked and ready. Fingers dancing along the fletching, you closed your eyes for a second, gathering your frazzled thoughts.

This had to be done. You could do it. You'd faced stronger foes, returning from the brink of annihilation with your cunning, strength and the ever-present support of your companions. You could -

"Watch out!"

Lae'zel's scream echoed across the courtyard, a note of rare panic in her voice. Your eyes snapped open, body reacting before the mind had time to process the visual signal, a primal, animal reflex.

It saved your life.

The leader of Vlaakith's team of bounty hunters swung a shining axe down toward your head, narrowly missing his intended target. The blade came down on your hair instead, lopping it off against the rough stone of the bridge balustrade.

Tearing yourself free, the muscles of your neck screaming in protest, you flung yourself away from him, loosing your arrow into the sinewy meat of his thigh. He grunted in pain, and advanced on you.

You had no choice but to stand and fight him directly, a tall order considering the arrows still zinging up like deadly zephyrs from his lieutenants below.

You had to think, you had to -

With a cry that rivaled a frenzied barbarian, Lae-zel vaulted the stone railing, her gith psionics propelling her forward with inhuman athleticism. Her blade came down against the Gith Leader's, striking up sparks with every fierce blow.

She was driving him back. He snarled at her, attempting to quail her in the face of seniority, but Lae'zel was well beyond the point of intended insurrection. She was fighting for her life, and yours.

A few devastating blows later, the Leader's arm was almost severed and, from somewhere in the shadows, Astarion's bolts struck true through his chest, bringing him to his knees.

With the tide of battle turned, your group managed to pick off the remaining members of the hunting party. You had all seen enough battle by now to never let your guards down for even a moment, and this rule bore hard-won fruit.

Afterwards, you all took the much needed respite at camp. Lying on your bedroll, you winced as you stretched over-taxed muscles and applied salve and bandages to your remaining wounds, the odd healing potion (and Gale's cooking) providing a coveted sustenance.

It was then that you noticed how everyone was looking at you. Some would meet your eyes and hurriedly glance away, while others were regarding you with open pity and gentle concern.

What on earth was this about?

You'd been injured quite severely in that unexpected skirmish, but it was nothing you hadn't been able to handle. Hells, each and every of your companions who'd been present had undergone similar harm. So why -

It was Karlach, in all her straightforward kindness, who approached you first, plopping herself cross-legged beside you on your bedroll.

"Hey, soldier. Hanging in there?"

You nodded, distracted by the glances you were still receiving, before edging closer to her, voice dropping to a conspiratorial hiss.

"Karlach ... why is everyone - "

"Ah, well, that's why I came over here."

She scratched at her cheek, uncomfortable.

"So ... it's your hair."

"My hair?"

"Have you taken a look in the mirror since you got back?"

"No, I've been a little busy surviving."

She raised both hands placatingly.

"Right. Well, when you get a chance, or you feel up to it, just know that we've had a little chat amongst ourselves and we'll help you fix it."

Curiosity was really eating at you now, and at the first opportunity, you hurried over to the mirror in the corner of the camp.

You stopped short.

Gods. It was small wonder that everyone had been looking at you with sympathy. You'd had no idea that the Gith Leader's axe had done quite so much damage.

Your hair had been chopped through lop-sidedly, uneven tufts sticking out like last season's bedraggled straw where you'd wrenched yourself free. The damaged ends swept over your shoulders like an old broom, and you'd never seen your hair look this dreadful. 

A hand came down on your shoulder, startling you out of your reverie.

It was Lae'zel.

"I don't set much store by appearance, but you look like you've been dragged backward through all the wards in a githyanki crèche."

Shadowheart's acidic rebuke came swiftly.

"Not that different from how you look everyday then, Lae'zel."

Karlach pushed them both apart, striding towards you.

"Come on, you two. We're here to stage an intervention, not tear each other's hair out."

Your glance flicked between them.

"An intervention?"

Shadowheart sniffed.

"Well of course. You didn't think we'd leave you wandering around Faerûn with your hair in that state."

You gulped heavily, extremely thankful that you'd landed yourself such reliable friends. Lae'zel clicked her tongue irritably.

"Let's get on with it then. Shadowheart, I presume you're the one who's going to do the damage control."

"And you would be wrong, my sweet Gith poppet. I'm the one with the necessary skills here."

Astarion sauntered forward, looking particularly smug. You noted that he was wearing a leather apron, similar to the ones barber's favoured, the numerous pockets filled with instruments: scissors of varying sizes and shapes, fine razors, combs and brushes of all kinds.

You raised an eyebrow.

"So you're the expert at this?"

He scoffed, one hand waving in airy indignance.

"Of course I am. Have you seen my hair? It's a thing of most ethereal beauty ... or so I've been told."

You nod slowly.

"I suppose you're right. What are you thinking?"

He approached you, those deft, long-fingered hands fluffing out the hair on either side of your head, eyes taking in the damage with nothing short of professionalism. Quite suddenly, you felt a sense of reassurance. You were now in the capable care of your resident vampire, and there was no way he would leave any stone unturned when it came to fixing your appearance.

"Hmm. Hmm. I see something here ... a vision, if you will."

Lae'zel looked surprised.

"A vision? I thought you were just going to shave her head and be done with."

Karlach giggled.

"Now that you mention it, that might be a smashing look. Get a tattoo on your scalp and everything."

"Are you both mad?" came the snippy rejoinder from Shadowheart. "A short princess cut would be better."

Astarion shot them a disapproving look.

"I'm certainly glad that I'm the one handling this. No need for drastic measures if you have the skill. There's a style popular amongst some scholars in Baldur's Gate, the young edgy ones who think learning from tomes is so last year."

Gale's outraged exclamation at this news from across the camp was roundly ignored.

"And what does this cut look like?"

"It's an angled trim, high above the nape and coming down here. Asymmetric, like this."

His hands traced the shape in the air above your shoulders and you raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Well, I trust you, Astarion. Have at it then. Quite frankly, anything's better than this."

"My darling, you really need to raise your standards."

In spite of his sharp reply, you could see from the very slight flush at the tips of his ears and his ultra-stoic expression that Astarion was pleased that you'd placed your faith in him so wholly.

"Let's get to work then."

He spun you around to face the mirror, and Karlach carried over a stool to make the process easier. Astarion fussed about, setting up a basin with warm water, producing various solutions and oils from those bottomless pockets and setting up a tray with the combs and trimming implements.

Even Shadowheart looked taken aback now.

"What are ... all of these?"

"Sweetheart, this is how it's done in most of the best salons in the city, don't you know?"

"All right, but what are those?"

Astarion paused, clearing his throat.

"I take it you've all wondered, at some point, how my hair could possibly look this perfect."

Lae'zel stared at him.

"You look like a runty sheep."

Karlach stuffed a fist into her mouth as Astarion's glare scorched over them.

"I wouldn't expect the likes of you to know much about proper hair care, but if you must know, I distil and mix these potions and oils myself. Plants are a wonderful source of healthy extracts."

"Hear, hear," came Halsin's call from beside the fire. "The Oak Father provides for beauty too."

Astarion, somehow, refrained from rolling his eyes.

"If we're to fix this damage, then a cut won't be enough. We have to treat the hair, soften it, bring out its natural curl, and then we'll cover the damage."

Shadowheart nodded critically.

"Sound advice, Astarion. You're quite the expert."

Readying yourself for a true 'Baldur's Gate Salon Experience', you followed Astarion's brisk instructions, allowing him to wrap a cloth around you to prevent your clothes from absorbing water, the tension leaving your shoulders as he had you lean backwards, neck braced on another heavily folded cloth over the rim of the basin.

A comfortable silence descended over this corner of the camp as Astarion soaked your hair, massaging some of the soapy extract into the individual stands with care. It felt surprisingly good, the trickle of warm water and the steady motion of his fingers dragging you into a pleasurable haze.

"Gods, that looks relaxing."

Halsin had wandered over at some point, looking with interest through Astarion's collection of hair potions.

"You came up with these mixtures all by yourself?"

"Oh believe me, I've had time."

Glancing to your left, you noted that Karlach, Shadowheart and even Lae'zel were lying on the grass nearby, chins propped on palms, watching with lazy interest. It reminded you, somewhat, of nights gathered together with friends when you were very young.

Before long, Astarion raised you gently, patting your hair with a cloth to remove the excess moisture. Now came the application of more oils and potions, each exceptionally fragrant. Reaching up curiously, you gasped as you felt the soft, glossy texture of your hair.

"Astarion, this is amazing!"

"Isn't it? It works wonders for curls, I've found."

Shadowheart edged forward.

"And what about straight hair? What works well for that?"

"Sweet almond and green nut oil is best as far as I know."

"Braids," grunted Lae'zel.

"If you mean what works best for braided hair, I would say that cedarwood oil and the essence of peonies, combined and applied to the scalp, would prevent drying and damage."

"What about horns?"

"Karlach, do I look as if I know the first thing about horns?"

She cursed under her breath.

"Damn. Nobody knows shit about horn care. Guess I'll just have to flake my damaged horn debris all over your clothes and stuff - "

"I can look into it for you," came Astarion's hurried reply. "I'm sure there's something for all scalp adornments."

Transitioning into the crucial phase, Astarion began to turn your head this way and that, his touch feather-light. Watching him cut your hair was a surreal experience indeed. His reflection wasn't visible, of course, so it seemed as if a number of instruments had taken it upon themselves to lift, trim and comb your hair.

He divided your hair into sections and delivered neat little angled snips to each, transforming the butchered ends and stray tufts into something far more aesthetically pleasing.

When he was done, he shook your hair out and called across to Gale.

"Oh mighty and handsome wizard, we require your assistance."

The eagerness with which Gale came hurrying over roused a grin on Karlach's face. He stopped beside the basin, rubbing his palms together.

"All right, I'm here. What do you need? Some advice on the best way to enchant an item? Perhaps one of my custom made cantrips for repelling dust and moisture from surfaces on a molecular - "

"Just blow some hot air out of your finger or something, there's a dear."

" ... oh. That's it?"

"I've got everything else covered. I'm just so bad with atmospheric spells, you know. Never got the hang of them."

"Well, in that case ... "

With a beleaguered sigh, Gale raised a hand. A controlled steam of beautifully warm air, just the perfect temperature, skimmed across your scalp. Astarion hovered at the corner of your vision like a fluffy hummingbird with an expert eye, adjusting a lock of hair here, snipping off a stray portion there.

Before long, the finished product was ready.

With a flourish, Astarion whipped the cloth bib away from you and spun you around to face the mirror once more.

"What do you think?"

It was testament to how well you'd come to know his little tells that you immediately recognized the nervous anticipation behind his confident demeanour. He'd certainly done a sterling job.

Gone were the rough edges and uneven planes. On the side that had been more heavily savaged by the axe, the hair was shorn fairly close to the scalp. The other side sported a soft, vibrant tangle of curls that flowed down to your shoulder, the transition between the two giving you a certain rakish elegance.

"I love it!"

You beamed at him, capturing his hand between your own.

"I never thought my hair would look ... well, like this after that kind of damage!"

The companions who had slowly gathered round during the execution of this project were now offering their own input.

"Nice going, Fangs!"

"I'll be sure to come to you when my hair needs a trim."

"Hmm. The swashbuckling academic. A unique look to be sure. Remind me to lend you a book about the value of asymmetry in the Weave. A most insightful - "

"At least you don't look like a sheep."

"A veritable dryad. Nature has blessed you with lovely hair and a most talented friend indeed."

Astarion waved off the compliments with a self-aggrandizing chuckle, but he stayed by your side, casually leaving his hand in your excited grasp.

Later, while you rested in your bedroll, muscles now relaxed and free of the tightness that came after a hard battle, you heard the shift of Shadowheart's body a few feet away. Turning your head to her, you saw her slightly sleep-hazed glance taking in your hair.

"Trouble sleeping?"

"Not really. I was just thinking. I've ... never had things like this before. You know. Being together. Laughing. Doing silly, mundane activities. It's rather ... nice."

You gave a small smile, choosing to stay silent.

Shadowheart yawned, stretching one arm over her head.

"We should do it again sometime."

"What? Get my hair chopped off by a murderous gith hunter?"

"You know what I mean."

She turned over, settling further into her blankets.

"And next time, we do Astarion's nails and give my fringe a trim. And maybe polish Karlach's horns. And maybe get Gale to make that sweet brown drink of his, the one with the cinnamon sticks."

[beebee3832]

Sweet Fae

- Bear shifter!Price x Fairy! (fem) reader (whose wings don’t work)

- Tags: Predator/prey dynamic, fear of death, just a bit scary, building into fluff and smut (in future parts), size difference, so so so much cringe lol so be warned

- Constructive criticism is always welcome!Thanks for reading! 💗

- (Just a note, fairies in my story are just short, not super super tiny like in Tinkerbell or something.)

Sitting on the treetops was one of your favorite things these days. Instead of doing the grueling work down below, you could lie down and smell the sweet breeze of the freshly bloomed flowers.

The new season of spring was finally here so of course there was lots of work to do. Helping the animals adjust after so many weeks in hibernation was crucial. Spreading pollen to newly bloomed flowers before the bees started buzzing again brought back the forest’s vibrance after months of barren trees and harsh weather. Planting seeds was also an important task to regrow the forest’s previous lushness. Spring was the busiest time for fairies and all you wanted was for it to be over.

For the past week, you were tasked to get the pollinators up and running again. Pollinating needs the work of everyone, not just the fairies. Bees were obviously at the top of the list, so you decided to start with them, but little did you know that there would be so many to wake up.

For most of the day, that’s all you were doing, so this little break on the treetops was much needed. But you couldn’t stay up there for much longer because the darkness of night was going to soon cover the whole sky. You could already see the purple hues of dusk in the distance.

The forest became darker at night, and not just in color. Creatures that you’ve been taught to fear since childhood roam the earth and hunt anything that moves. You remember your grandmother telling you about them when you were only a little fae.

“They smell fear, little one,” she said, her voice low.

You sat on the floor where you were previously drawing on the dirt with a stick, but now you looked up at her with wide eyes as she told you tales of dangerous beings. “Who do?”

“They are not like us fairies. They are creatures who stalk the forest only after it grows dark. They make themselves look different than what they are just to fool others into their trap. They tear up the earth with their claws,” she emphasized this by raising her hands up to look like claws, “and they rip hearts open with their teeth!”

Your small wings started to tremble as she told you more about these beings. Beings that didn’t hesitate to fool fairies into thinking they were kind animals just to stuff them into their jaws as a midnight snack. Slowly, tears started to form in your eyes and you wailed, only for your grandmother to pull you to her lap and whisper comfort into your ear.

With a shake of your head, you snapped back to reality. It was not the time to be scaring yourself. Night was drawing closer and you needed to go back home soon.

“One more beehive,” you muttered to yourself. Surely you could do that before dark.

You stood up on the wobbly branch and stretched, stiff from laying down for so long. Then you braced yourself to climb down the tree, landing softly on the forest floor. You knew exactly where you were going. Left. That was where the next beehive was. Because it was late, you would just tell them that their duties should start tomorrow.

After a little while, you spotted it. You heard the soft buzzing in the distance and you almost started walking to it until you heard a low huff. You scanned your surroundings to see where it came from but all you saw was the forest growing ever darker. It must’ve been your own breath you heard, although you know you were just saying that to ward off your worries.

You padded to the hive and gave it a soft knock, knowing that if you knocked too hard, you’d surely get stung. Bees were always on high alert, even when they were still groggy from winter.

You cleared your throat. “Uh, hello. Can you hear me?” You saw a bee come out and land on your nose. You took that as a yes and smiled. “Well I won’t bother you too long. I came here to tell–” Suddenly you were interrupted by a harsh buzz that made your nose itch. The bee zipped back into its hive just as quick as it came out of it, leaving you utterly confused.

You scratch your nose a little. “Hello? Did I say something wrong?” No response. With a little huff, you decided to just leave it. It was getting late anyways. You turned around, ready to go back home when you suddenly gasped in shock.

In front you was the biggest bear you’d ever seen. Sure, all bears are big compared to fairies, but this was different. This one was well...huge. Layers and layers of deep brown fur only made it seem bigger. Its jet black eyes peered at you with an intensity that you’d never seen on another animal before. It felt like it was staring through your entire being.

Slowly, it stalked over to you and you felt yourself freeze. Not out of fear, no. More so out of...caution. The forest is your home. You’ve seen plenty of bears before. In fact, you’ve helped several of them prepare for hibernation so this sight wasn’t anything new. But something in your body kept you frozen. Maybe the stories your grandmother told you were still embedded into your subconscious.

It grew closer and closer until it stood right in front of you, making you see how much bigger it really was. You held your breath as it shoved its nose into your neck, almost knocking you over. The beast stopped at your pulse point and opened its jaws to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth. Fear bloomed in your chest, making you act on instinct. You immediately smacked the bear’s nose with a yelp, making it immediately back away.

A beat of silence ensued. A staredown between you and the bear. It’s pointed stare at your wide-eyed gaze. Before you could find out what would happen next, you bolted in the opposite direction.

The wind rushing through your hair brought you back to reality, making you realize just how late it had gotten. The full moon was out. No hues of twilight painted the sky anymore. Only the bleak darkness of night. You panicked even more. You had to go home. It was too dangerous to be out now.

You heard snarling and the rapid sound of paws chasing you down. Alarms blared in your mind. Your breaths grew heavy and fast.

Your thoughts screamed. Go!

Out of nowhere, a set of sharp claws shoved you to the ground. It was too dark to see but you knew that they had come from your right. Your back hit the forest floor with a loud thud, making your body ache all over. You tried squinting your eyes in order to see but to no avail.

You heard the sound of a loud growl from above you. You felt the beast’s drool drip down on your face.

All your fighting and thrashing proved worthless against its strength. This is it, you thought. Hopeless and trapped, you relaxed your body and allowed what was to come.

You immediately jumped up when you felt the beast get shoved off of you. The sounds of teeth gnashing and roars filled the air. Someone—or something—was assaulting the beast that once held you trapped on the ground. You took this moment to swiftly make your way out of there.

You knew this wouldn’t work but you tried it anyway. You were desperate. As you ran, you used the rest of your energy to get your wings to work. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.

You’ve seen other fairies do it your whole life. Why was it so hard for you? This could be your fastest route out of these woods and back home—where it was safe. You strained yourself harder than you ever have. Please please please this has to work.

You felt your wings quiver, hope suddenly rushing through you. C’mon just a little more!

Abruptly, your feet caught onto the brush of the forest floor, making you fall face first on the ground. You groaned in pain, this being your second time falling in the span of a couple long minutes. If only you could see. You tried to get up, but your feet were tangled in whatever they got caught in.

You were foolish to think that one more beehive was a good idea. You were foolish to think that you’d be safe in the woods so close to night. Foolish to think that you could get away. Most of all, you were foolish to even entertain the idea that you could fly out of here. You could already feel the tears fall down your cheeks. Your soft sobs echoed throughout the forest. Foolish, foolish, foolish.

Your body stiffened when you finally heard silence. The beasts weren’t fighting anymore which means one of them must have won. It would surely eat you now that there was no other competition. Your last bet was to just play dead. So you let your body go limp, waiting—praying—for the beasts of the forest to just walk past.

You almost jumped at the sound of twigs snapping in front of you. A familiar huff came from the bear, who must’ve won. Your heart beat fast in your chest, threatening to burst out of your ribcage. It nudged you with its paw and turned you over on your back. Your body tensed.

“Please,” you barely whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.” Your voice wavered through your hiccups and tears.

Unexpectedly, it lifted you up onto its back and started moving to who knows where.

Your consciousness grew dark.

. . .

The soft glow of a fire was the first thing you saw.

The cavern you were in looked like a home. There were books and a table. A fireplace and doors that you could only assume led to other rooms. There was also a subtle smell of something cooking but you didn’t know what. You were laying on a soft surface. You lifted yourself onto your elbows and saw that you were on a bed. A big one. Way bigger than the ones you would see in your town. Where were you?

You heard something come into the space you were in and you immediately pretend to be asleep—or dead. You listened closely as you heard what seemed to be bones cracking and pained grunts and then...heavy, relieved breaths. It sounded like it came from a man. A large man.

You didn’t dare open your eyes as you felt heavy footsteps stop at the edge of the bed you’ve been put in. You held your breath and forced yourself to stay limp when every bone in your body was screaming at you to run. You couldn’t run away before and you certainly couldn’t run away now.

You heard him kneel down and felt the back of his hand softly rest on your forehead for a moment, which made you suck in a harsh breath. In instinct, you sat up and slapped his hand away from you, not without a quiet gasp.

The first thing you noticed about him was his size. He was massive. A burly man with strong arms that were probably the size of your head. The next thing you noticed was his face. He had deep blue eyes and lots of facial hair. Actually, he had hair everywhere. His chest was broad and he had a healthy amount of strong fat on him. The only thing he was wearing were some shorts so you could see most of him. He was nothing like any man you knew.

You make eye contact with him once again, scared of what he was going to do to you. Who was this man? What did he want with you? Would he punish you for hitting him? Your heart quickened and you started to breathe heavier, which didn’t go unnoticed.

His eyebrows furrowed with a sympathetic expression. “It’s okay sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you.” His kind words and baritone voice did nothing to soothe you. Actually, you were even more confused. Who is this man?

Summoning up your courage, you managed to squeak out a full sentence, despite your fear. “I want to go home.” You looked up, searching his face for some sort of approval. Any sign that he will let you go. When you found none, you felt your heart sink.

“Listen sweethea-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Listen. You’re injured and it's not safe out there. At least not now.”

You looked over your body and found deep gashes and purple bruises on the places where you fell and where the beast had knocked you down. You glanced behind you and saw that your wings had numerous cuts, probably from the branches you had to run through. He was right. You were definitely injured.

“Here,” he said as he stood up, making him even bigger in your eyes. “I made some food for you if you wanna eat it. How about you come with me and I can get you fed and fixed up.” The steadiness in his voice made it impossible to not believe him so you tried to stand up and follow his lead. What else could you do in this state?

He noticed you wince because of your various injuries so he offered a hand to help, which you silently ignored. You didn’t even give him a second glance. He can’t think you’re that needy. You can’t be seen as weak, especially not in front of a man whose intentions were still a mystery to you.

He led you to a table next to a fireplace that had a cauldron of soup cooking. You sat down on a large chair and watched him give you a bowl of his newly made meal. You weren’t planning on eating it.

He left and came back again with some ointments and bandages to heal your wounds.

“Alright I’m going to put this on you and it might hurt, okay?” You nodded and sat still—that was until you felt a searing hot pain where he put your ointment. You yelped and smacked his hand away, causing your chair to fall backwards. He caught it just in time, but not without a small smile aimed towards you.

“You’re very violent, you know that?” He playfully asked while looking back down at your wounds. You weren't feeling playful.

“Just stop it,” you said, your voice louder than you wanted it to be. His rich, blue eyes immediately snapped up to you, confused. You took a deep breath. “Just...stop. Who are you?” The question you’ve been wondering most finally came out of your mouth and you silently waited for an answer.

He looked almost nervous. “Ah, yes. My name is John. John Price.” That wasn’t a good enough answer. You suddenly stood to your feet, ignoring the soreness of your wounds.

“No, I mean, who are you? How did you find me? Wh-what are you?” You stuttered on the last question, afraid of the answer. He had no wings. He was massive and hairy and everything a fairy was not. He was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking about what he should say. The suspense was killing you.

“What am I?” He asked, incredulous, as if you should already know. “I’m just like you sweetheart.”

You shake your head. “No. No you’re not. You’re big and-and just-ugh you’re not like me! You’re not a fae like me! What are you?!” You’re shaking now. You’ve only been with fae all your life. You’ve never seen anything else. You never even knew there was anything but fae, maybe besides stories of scary creatures that roam the woods outside your town.

He slowly rose to his feet, unintentionally making you cower beneath him. “Love, I need you to calm down, alright?”

You shook your head. “No! No, I don’t know you! I-I have to go.” You frantically looked around the room to see which door might lead you out of here. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a soft glow of moonlight coming from the crack of the door on your left. Your escape. You looked back at the man who was slowly creeping up to you and you immediately fled to your escape.

Harshly, you twisted the doorknob and pulled as hard as you could. You were right; this door was your escape. The sudden rush of pain from your captor’s hand gripping your arm gave you the adrenaline you needed to become strong enough to get out of his grip. He tripped forward onto the ground and cried out,

“Wait, wait come ba–”

You paused when you heard crackling from behind. Then you glanced behind you.

You saw a horrific image of bones breaking and being put back together, of strangled yelling and of clumps of fur sprouting from skin. In just a few short seconds, there was no man anymore. In front of you was a bear. Not just any bear, but the one that almost killed you.

You screamed so loud that your throat went raw. You couldn’t move. Your body went rigid as the beast sauntered your way with a deep growl coming from its throat. That man wasn’t trying to help you. He was just playing with his food.

Just as he came within an arm’s length of you, you noticed something warm on your back. You felt that warmth rise up and hit the trees in front of you, casting them in the familiar hue of sunrise. Once the warm glow touched the beast’s face, it instantly backed away, seemingly in pain. Relief flooded in your chest.

Just as you were about to run away, you heard the familiar bone cracking and for some stupid reason, you turned around again. No beast was in front of you now. Only the same man who tried to bandage you up earlier.

He was on all fours and coughing profusely. When he looked up at you, you saw a pained look on his face. His once happy eyes were now remorseful and ashamed. When you walked closer, you saw tears form in them.

“Please,” he said, which made you jump a little. “I didn’t mean to, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna hurt you. I just wanted to protect you.”

Bullshit, you thought. The man who was just about to kill you is now begging for your forgiveness? What a joke. You should turn away now. This pathetic creature was only crying because he couldn’t eat his dinner. Turn away, your mind said.

Every bone in your body wanted to leave him in this place, but your heart hesitated.

It wasn’t often that you saw a man cry like that. You weren’t even sure if he was a man. No, this was a beast. A beast who tried to kill you, your thoughts cried. However, despite that, you felt some twisted sympathy for him. Your head was telling you that he was dangerous, but your heart knew better. For some reason, you decided to trust your heart.

You slowly walked over to stand over him. He looked at you with wet and pleading eyes. Your chest ached.

“Stand up.”

He rose immediately, unintentionally reminding you of his towering figure.

Feeling your heart race, you raise your hands to his face, hesitating for just a second before cupping his tear stained cheeks. He didn’t even flinch, in fact, he let out a soft sigh as he slightly leaned into your touch. This close, you could smell his musky scent. He smelled of forests and something smoky. For some reason, it calmed you just a bit.

You two stayed in this same position for quite some time, your thumbs soothingly swiping his leftover tears to his hairy cheeks. He didn’t say a word. He just let you study him. He let you study his deep blue eyes, his dark brows, his nose, his slightly rough facial hair, everything.

A rustle in bushes close to you snapped you out of your trance. You quickly turned your head but a large hand cupped your face, turning your head back to the beast.

He smiled a warm smile, one that made you almost melt. “Just a squirrel, sweetheart,” he murmured. Such a soft tone coming from a beast surprised you.

“Right,” you muttered, your gaze focusing back onto him. “I, uh,” you coughed a bit, “I suppose I should leave now.” His eyes saddened a bit, making your heart clench for some reason.

“I suppose you should,” he said as he almost reluctantly backed away from you.

You turned around, ready to leave when he said something you didn’t quite hear. “What was that?”

You heard him clear his throat. “Will you come back?” Will you? Should you?

You walked away without answering, but somehow you knew this wasn’t the final time you would see him.

[ivystoryweaver]

Moon Boys Celebrate Your Birthday HC's

Based on this ask by @soulsforsales: How do you think the moon boys would treat you on your birthday???

Oh my goodness 🎂🎈🎉 Ok.

*angst warning, but mostly fluff

MARC

Birthdays are hard for Marc. So, so hard. They were when he felt most alone, forgotten and unseen.

It’s when he missed Randall so much he felt physically sick.

It’s when his mom refused to acknowledge her living son.

It’s when his dad made a feasible effort but ended up defending his abuser anyway.

So they’re difficult for Marc. But it’s your birthday. It’s you. And you would never.

Marc is going to overcompensate.

He had half-assed Home birthdays with no friends and a homemade cake. Those can be great if done well, but you’re worth more.

He’s going to make a reservation at an impressive restaurant the night before your birthday. It will be unique, intimate, romantic. Candlelight, soft music, delicious food and drinks.

You will have his undivided attention and be his only priority.

The fact that you are in the world is something he cherishes.

Intense eye contact will melt you into a puddle. He’ll keep reaching across the table for your hand.

He’ll pull out your chair and guide you along with his hand on the small of your back. Everyone will know you are his and this is a special day for you.

You barely make it out of the restaurant, just a touch blissfully tipsy, when his lips crash into yours

JAKE

^idk why I keep seeing this Drive guy as Jake lol

Jake will be celebrating, probably on the weekend closest to your birthday, maybe the night after.

There will be singing, in more than one language.

There will probably be dancing even if it’s just a quick couple of Salsa steps around the kitchen.

He cooks for you, making a huge mess. But it's yummy.

He wants you to smile and laugh. He wants to make you feel as amazing as you always make him feel.

He tried to decorate your cake, but it's hilariously bizarre. The two of you try to fix it and get into a frosting war.

It gets on the tip of your nose and cheek. Jake swipes it away and submits his thumb to your lips for cleaning.

You hold his gaze, dragging your tongue across the pad of his thumb before sucking it into your mouth.

Then you get the rest of your birthday present. For the rest of the night.

STEVEN

Steven doesn’t quite remember a lot of birthdays - not childhood ones anyway.

Memories are either absent, confusing, or completely a false shadow of what really happened to them.

He has to sort out his feelings about birthdays.

But again, this isn’t his birthday, it’s yours.

He’s waiting for you when you wake up. “Happy birthday, love.” He wants you to know right away that he’s remembered.

He gazes into your eyes and traces your lips with his fingertips.

"Steven," you whisper as he brushes his lips over yours.

You're late to work because of him.

He's done little things for you: your lunch is prepared, your favorite tea or coffee is in your favorite mug.

Your favorite sweater is clean and warmed in the dryer. He wraps you up in it before you leave.

When you get to work, there are flowers delivered, with a card. He is a classic romantic after all.

When you arrive home, he is positively giddy. He’s planned a scavenger hunt for you. It’s full of mischief and riddles.

You follow the clues, watching Steven's gorgeous brown eyes sparkle with excitement as his soft voice lovingly encourages you from clue to clue.

You finally get to the end and discover your present. Steven's taking you away on a trip.

Of course Marc and Jake will show up too.

The boys end up saying "Happy Birthweek" after a couple years of this. You’re worth a lot of celebrating.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Askbox

[shitpostingkats]

your yugioh discord server au my beloved.

dunno if this already came up, but i tottaly see everyone chatting regulary (esp jaden the spammer-tm), minus yusei. he just lurks and gives a reply every second year/when tagged. </3

Yusei is the lurker who nevertheless responds immediately when tagged. The guy will never hop in and voice his opinion, but the second you @ him he has replied the nanosecond you hit send. He is, however, the biggest organizer of server movie nights, voice chats, and meet-up when multiple members of them are in the same city. This au is set after his series ended, after all. He's already keeping up long distance friendships with Jack, Crow, Akiza, and the twins. He is hardcore about keeping on top of online friendships. Sometimes he'll just pop into the vc while he's working and leave it open while he tinkers.

In ascending order of activity, Yusaku probably chats the second least. This tempered though, by the fact that they are always online. 4am in the morning? Yusaku is there. Yusaku's actually more vocal in the discord than in real life, after years of growing up raised by message boards an forums. If everyone sees it's been like 25 hours since they logged off, someone will shoot a message to Kolter, or they'll just log into vrains and hunt him down like it's the most dangerous game (getting Yusaku to log off and go the fuck to sleep)

Yuya took a while to warm up the the GC, but every day gets more bold with just kicking down the doors of the chat and going off about something or another. Also he's in a minecraft server with all his brothers and the bracelet girls, so if he's online but not responding, it's probably because he's griefing Yuri's dirt house for the third time this week.

Yugi's really active in the chat, a fact that never fails to blow Yuma and Yuya's minds. He'll be at a global release sponsored by every important duel monsters company under the sun, and he'll send pictures of Kaiba caught mid sneeze with the caption 'LOL'. He will be on NATIONAL TV AND TEXTING THE GROUPCHAT. His memes are legendary.

No one knows how to quantify Yuma's activity, because there's like a 90% chance most of the messages he sends are him???? But then there's also the possibility that half his messages are Astral feeling chatty, and it's very hard to tell because both of them are equally likely to start a rousing discussion on the morals of dolphins at 3 in the morning. Yugi is the only one who can reliably tell them apart.

And OF COURSE, AT THE TOP OF THE LIST, IT'S YA BOI, YOUR SUPREME MEME KING: JADEN YUKI. *insert airhorn sound effect* Spammer galore. Constantly uploading selfies of him standing in front of some eldritch abomination, or standing on the surface of Jupiter, or some other such equally questionable use of his powers. Liveblogs his annoyance at being made to do demonic paperwork. Makes incomprehensible memes that no one can tell if he's dunking on his henchmen again, or just really, really good at shitposting. He has a channel in the discord just for him where, every day, he just sends a single digit number, and some of the yu-boys are going crazy trying to figure out if it's a code, or some secret eldritch coordinates, or a massive ARG style prank, or what.

Yusei eventually reveals it's how many tries Yubel took to get the days wordle.

[starlightsalvatore]

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

this was inspired by this blog post !!! idk if this is really what you wanted but this is where the spirit moved me lol - I hope everyone enjoys! as always lmk what you think!

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

summary: Stefan flipped his switch and you and Damon have been trying your hardest to bring him home... but Stefan has other ideas.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: typical tvdu stuff (blood, fear, pain, etc)

“Goodnight, Linda! I’ll see you next week,” you called out as you pushed the door to the boutique open, letting it shut behind you as you crossed the street to find your car. Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions, things in Mystic Falls had been topsy-turvy since Stefan flipped his switch and skipped town with Klaus. You and Damon had been hunting down every lead while keeping it from Elena, encouraging her to move on while the two of you ignored your own hypocrisy as you refused to do the same. On top of every dead end or trip down south to cover up the carnage Stefan left in his wake there was something brewing just beneath the surface with Damon the two of you were refusing to acknowledge. It wasn’t the time, there was too much on your plates but it didn’t stop the tension that seeped into every late night you spent with him poring over files Sheriff Forbes had given you.

You unlocked your car as it came into view, listening to the chirps echo down the empty street but stopped in your tracks when a figure appeared before you, “Stefan?” you asked, hope filling your voice but it faded just as soon as it had appeared when you looked into his eyes… so cold and dark, unlike the ones you’d come to know. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“I know,” he answered, “I’m here to tell you to stop.”

“Come on, Stefan… let us help you, I can help you,” you pleaded and he just chuckled darkly. He was someone you used to trust implicitly, he’d saved you from sudden death time and time again, taken you in and given you a home when Klaus had killed your parents to prove a point but this was not the Stefan you knew. 

“You can help me, sweetheart,” he said, fingers trailing along your collarbone and you felt sick to your stomach at his touch. “God, have I been dying to know what you taste like,” he muttered mostly to himself. You thought about running, but it was pointless… you thought about screaming for help, but he’d just kill whoever showed up… Damon. Damon was at the grill, just a handful of yards away. “So many nights hearing that heartbeat just down the hallway, like a siren call. How stupid was I to resist?” he asked rhetorically and while his attention was focused on the pulsing of your neck you slowly pulled your phone from your back pocket, dialing Damon’s number and praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t hit the wrong buttons.

“So, what’s the plan, Stefan? Just going to kill me right here in front of the grill?” you asked, voice wavering as you tried to stall him. “Who are you trying to send a message to? Damon? Elena?” He growled in response.

“Maybe the message is for you,” he said, hand closing around your throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you’ve been helping him? That it wasn’t you who’s been covering my tracks?” he asked but you couldn’t answer. His hand disappeared and you sucked in a breath only to let out a cry of pain as he gripped your wrist, pulling your phone into view before he pried it out and you felt your bones crack under the pressure as he tossed it aside. “Stupid girl, are you trying to make this easier on me?”

“So this is hard for you?” you asked, clinging onto that as you took a step back and tried to ignore the pain in your wrist. “Good, lean into it. You don’t want to kill me, even with your humanity off you can’t tell me you don’t miss the fun we used to have together… dancing with Lexi to Bon Jovi, crushing Elena and Jeremy at pool…” you trailed off, trying to spark something in him. “Just, come home, Stefan. Let me help you, everything can go back to how it was.”

“Yes, I really do, because the real fun is what I’ve been denying myself all this time.” he sneered and you felt a gush of wind behind you.

“Whoa brother, just take it easy,” you heard Damon say and suddenly you were flipped around with your back pressed against Stefan, his arm a vice grip around your waist as his other hand held onto your throat. 

“You really should have stopped looking for me,” Stefan growled as you squirmed in his grasp, pain radiating through your arm as you struggled for air. “I don’t want to be found.”

“Yet you came all this way to Mystic Falls, to the middle of the town square. That doesn’t scream don’t find me,” Damon pointed out, taking a step closer but he stopped in his tracks when you let out a cry as the grip around you tightened. Damon could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage, quick and uneven as your eyes pleaded with him to do something. 

“Had to deliver a message,” Stefan responded. “But now that I’m here, she is a lot of fun, isn’t she, brother? Always was so brave, even in the face of death,” he chuckled as he brushed your hair from your neck. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he taunted. 

“Just let her go, we can talk this out… come to an understanding,” Damon said, slowly taking another step. He’d never felt so helpless, like control was slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood for talking,” he replied and you felt his lips kiss along your carotid artery and you stiffened in his grasp before thrashing against him. “So responsive,” he chuckled and anger flared in Damon’s chest at the sight. “Come on, Damon… all this time you’ve been pushing me to have more fun, now you want to stop me?”

“You want real fun? You’re not going to find it here in Mystic Falls,” he said, gesturing to the empty town around him. “Let’s go on a good old fashioned brotherly road trip, find some girls that actually enjoy being fed on,” he said, and you didn’t miss the desperation in his voice as you tried to calm your breathing and focus on anything other than the ache throbbing in your wrist. Stefan wasn’t swayed and you let out a pained cry as his fangs sunk into your neck, opening you up as he drank you in and you struggled in his arms.

“Stefan- don’t,” you choked out, fighting against him. Your words came out strained as blood poured from your neck and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks. “Elena will… she’ll never forgive you.”

“She’s right, brother. Just let her go, we can make this all go away,” Damon pleaded and he knew you didn’t have much time before he ripped your head off. You were already starting to go limp in his arms and Damon’s eyes were apologetic as he looked at you but you didn’t have enough time to process what it meant before you were flying through the air and hitting the ground with a thud that winded you. You groaned as you lifted your arms to press against the wound in your neck, each nerve ending protesting with a fiery jolt of pain as you tried to control the bleeding.

You couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move… all you could hear was a crack in the distance as your eyes fluttered closed before you felt your body being tugged upright. “Come on, drink…” Damon said, shaking you softly and when you didn’t respond he shook you harder. “You don’t get to do this, damn it! Drink,” he said again and your eyes opened as you wrapped your lips around his wrist, letting the sickly sweet liquid slide down your throat. You were alone again, vaguely making out Damon on the phone with somebody before you lost consciousness. 

“Hey, hey, easy, you’re safe now,” you heard as you sat up in bed, startled as your eyes darted around and you saw you were back in your room at the boarding house. Damon was looking down at you intensely as tried to ease you into laying back down but you just shook your head.

“Where is he?” you asked frantically, “please tell me we didn’t lose him.”

“He’s in the cellar,” he answered. You let yourself relax a little at this, knowing the hope you’d been clinging to all summer seemed a little more realistic now. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and your face twisted in confusion. “This is all my fault.”

“What? Damon, this isn’t your fault,” you tried but he just shook his head.

“He knew the way to get to me was through you, I shouldn’t… he didn’t want to be found, I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said and your eyes softened as you took him in. He looked exhausted and the faint light peeking around your curtains let you know he must have been waiting a while for you to wake up. 

“He knew I was helping you, this was as much a message for you as it was for me,” you replied. “I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re not right now,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“But I will be,” you reassured, “nobody said bringing a ripper back from the depths of inhumanity would be easy.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated and you just wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself move to straddle his hips to pull him closer into you. “You don’t deserve this, I… I should have protected you better. I can’t lose you,” he muttered into your chest as his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said and he pulled back to look up at you, eyes swimming with emotion. 

“You… you mean too much to me,” he said, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw. “I can’t lose you,” he repeated.

“And you won’t,” you promised, eyes sad as you knew this wasn’t really a promise you could keep, but you would try… for him. You let your fingers thread through his hair as you held him close, needing the comfort right now as much as he did. Putting on a brave face was what you were good at, you seemed to face a new evil every week in this town but this was different… This was Stefan, one of your closest friends who used you to prove a point, who made it look so easy to bring you within an inch of your life. You needed Damon as much as he needed you and with someone downstairs locked in a cell who was so important to the both of you, you didn’t have any fight left in you to pretend you didn’t need him.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin and your heart skipped a beat, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I’m so sorry.” You shifted, leaning back to look down at him and those intense blue eyes held so much emotion you felt your heart crack wide open.

“Damon-” you started but he cut you off by cupping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips. You responded immediately, letting your lips move in tandem with his before pulling back breathless.

“I love you,” he repeated as you rested your forehead against his. 

“I love you too,” you responded, letting yourself smile genuinely for the first time all summer. “We’re going to get your brother back, okay? We’ll get him back and everything will be okay.”

taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood @styxfly (if you’re name is struck through it means I couldn’t tag you - sorry!)

tagging you because you inspired this one! @tmhxll​ 

[lucien-lachance]

TES Crushes

Tagged by @skyrim-forever <333 This'll be fun (and mostly super predictable lol)

no-pressure tagging @arnaerr @blackmetalsnake @neloths-tea @cheesychickenwings @wingedknightrose @nuwanders @heavy-metal-dick @fruk-choosing-a-username @friend-of-giants @ray-elgatodormido @justafoxhound @littlevoidfluff @bunniletto uhhh and anyone I forgot or who just wants to jump in <3

(If you don't want to do a TES theme, feel free to pick another game to show off the blorbos of your heart)

1: Lucien Lachance (using his legends card because it's tattooed on my brain)

8932904530 / 10 Look. He's my everything. Everyone here knows that. My cats knows that. Like 19 different notebooks know that. I don't even know why. He's an assassin of questionable sanity living alone in a haunted fort and has never been within ten miles of a Bed Bath and Beyond. Yet 13-year old me had a hell of an awakening after just one look at his weird, glowing, potato-faced smile when he broke into Benirus Manor. Adult me got a ring with his name on it. down bad. down so, so bad.

2: Marcurio

200 / 10 My Skyrim romance of choice. This man can do it all. Cute smirk. Sassy brat. Sits on a hard wooden bench eating bread all day. He's a little yappy show dog to tote around in your purse, but he can also set stuff on fire, electrocute a whole pond full of fish, bake pies, and take care of your kids while you're out hunting bears and bastards for sport.

3: Brynjolf

8/10 He's peddling snake oil in broad daylight. He worries about you when you're missing. He's the one singing Don't Stop Believing in the background when you're new to the Thieves Guild and no one else likes you. And let's be real, no one is immune to that voice.

4: Garrus Darelliun

9/10 He's a shockingly decent guy for my usual tastes. Golden retriever material tbh. I'm not sure what my deal is with him. I just think he's neat. If Tat was...normal...I'd be playing Barbie Dream House with them.

5: Frea

Big Nord lady with a huge ax? Could probably wrestle a sabercat and win? Loves justice and her family+clan? Hello yes she could stomp on me and I'd thank her. That's all :')

[six-eyed-samurai]

I was finally able to think of a request lol :D

I was wondering if i could get a Gyutaro x reader (female or gender neutral, whichever works best for you :3) who is in a depressive episode and just really burnt out, like barely getting out of bed, not really taking care of themselves unless specifically made to, and how he would react to that considering he’s used to them being pretty outgoing and happy and always doing things.

i’m just needing the comfort right now and who better to do it then probably one of the most protective demons in the series.

have a nice day/night :3

SUMMARY: Gyutaro isn't the best at understanding emotions but he'll try...even if he fails. A/N: I got what you feel, my sueto poteo begurl! Sorry this took so long, I was busy and Tumblr deleted my first draft T_T WARNINGS: Cannibalism because demons, fem reader, depression My inbox is still open if you would like to request for the event!

Humans are weird.

Of course that was only from Gyutaro’s perspective, seeing as he was a demon and didn't feel the same way humans did about problems or emotions. It made it a little hard to understand why people would get so worked up over problems because as a demon you could solve all of them (they didn't have much honestly) by killing or have everyone cower in fear of you.

Then again as a human, he had solved most of his problems that way as well, so it can be confirmed that Gyutaro was not very good at understanding emotions.

But you were a demon and that was weirder.

For one you were quite upbeat all the time, always smiling brightly no matted what. For another everyone loved you, although it might be because the dumbasses had no idea as to what you truly are.

Third was that while demons didn't need sleep you'd been doing a lot of it lately. That was weird even for you, someone not strong enough to be a demon of importance but not so weak as to be one of those filthy humans.

Come to think of it you weren't just sleeping a lot. He'd barely seen you around but Gyutaro had assumed that was because he had been out a lot of nights hunting, until he realized watching through Daki’s mind that you barely left your room and rarely did anything anymore. If you did it was only because the mistress was bugging you or you were specifically requested. And when you spoke it was a dull monotone of absolute obedience.

You used to be such a pretty little bird! A canary that delighted everyone, especially himself, with your lilting voice and sweet words. Then you became some peculiar nocturnal creature and Gyutaro found that he did not quite like all ugly, dirty things in the dust after all.

But it'd be a lie to say Gyutaro had noticed the change in your behaviour the last few days. No, it had been Daki, something he was ashamed to admit. She had remarked upon your disappearance and had just about thrown him out of the room when he said he didn't notice anything, huffing that you probably were going to think he no longer wanted you.

Idiot, Gyutaro cursed himself, and suddenly was reminded of the first night at the beginning when crush became confession.

“You're mine,” he'd hissed, and tucked away in his protective hold you had laughed lightly and agreed if he'd be yours in exchange.

You were his and Gyutaro took care of his most precious things. VERY good care of his things.

***

It's been a while since he entered your room.

Gyutaro hunkered down beside you, curious and confused. Your blankets were strewn all over the place and your head was buried under a mound of pillows; it was obvious that you hadn't moved in hours. A skeletal hand hovered above your shoulder, unsure if he should awaken you…or if you are even sleeping. You looked rather unhappy even relaxed.

“Gyutaro.” Your eyes cracked open, his name a statement rather than a question, but there was some surprise in your tone nevertheless.

Gyutaro did not like the look of you, for you looked dead but not in complexion - rather the dimness of the life spark that he had enjoyed watching snuffed out when he killed. He grunted in reply, eyeing you suspiciously. “I haven't seen you in a while.”

“I suppose you haven't.” Your shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry, I'm kind of tired tonight. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Tired?” Gyutaro recoiled sharply, hurt and a little mad. “You…don't want to see me?”

“No. I just meant tomorrow.” You struggled to muster a smile but he snarled at no one in particular, nails gouging into the wooden floor, before he was gone in a flash.

Clearly something must be bothering you, Gyutaro reasoned to himself as he made his way back to Daki’s room. Something that must be affecting your energy and mood. You couldn't possibly be fed up with him, were you?

No, you promised!

There must be something else, something else the cause of your problems. Whatever it was Gyutaro would get rid of it, preferably painfully, but first he would have to watch you keenly.

It wasn't spying, not technically, when he was only trying to look out for you and after a few days Gyutaro finally came up with an answer. For whatever reason you hadn't left the house to hunt and so you must be starved of a good meal, he concluded. People loved you, thinking you were just an ordinary human, so perhaps the mistress was adding more to your workload or you couldn’t say no to accompanying one of the girls during the night. Easy, he could remedy that! Especially when he found the two guys who had disrespected you oh so badly not too long ago.

He lugged the two corpses back to your room, getting through the window quite effortlessly. You were awake this time, he was happy to find, and picking at the knots in your hair in front of your vanity, your brush lying forgotten on the ground.

You frowned, though. Not what he was expecting. “What…is that?”

“For you….to eat.” Gyutaro scrunched up his eyebrows, baffled when you made no move towards it. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Your shoulders sagged again. Uncertainly your hand reached out and patted his hair briefly before withdrawing. “…I already ate, Gyutaro, and it’s not hunger that’s bothering me.”

“…it’s me, isn’t it? Do - have you found someone else?” Gyutaro began to panic and rage. “I’ll kill him! Who is he? Is he handsome? NEEEH! I’ll do better, I swear, I’m sorry I’m so ugly-”

“No! Not like that!” Your hands shot out again to assure him, but it only lasted a few moments. “I’m just…tired. I’ll be alright in a few days but I don’t really have the energy to see people right now.”

“You…don’t want to see me?”

“No, that’s not what I-”

Gyutaro’s nails gouged into his cheeks this time as he disappeared out of your room, disappointed.

***

Daki didn’t want the humans either.

“EW! BROTHER, WHY WOULD YOU BRING BACK SUCH UGLY PEOPLE! I’M NOT GOING TO EAT THEM! THEY’RE JUST GONNA TAKE UP SPACE IN MY OBI AS WELL!” Daki would’ve kicked them away from her if her dress hadn’t hampered her movements. Gyutaro growled under his breath but began to eat them himself. “Why don’t you give them to (y/n) ? She usually eats ugly things like these.”

“Shut up already!”

“Hey, I saw you coming out of her room just now, did you-”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

“Someone’s touchy,” Daki sighed, rolling her eyes. “Did she reject them?”

Rejected me, more like, Gyutaro grumbled to himself. He looked up from his meal, considering things. Daki was a girl and your friend (sort of), perhaps she’d know what was wrong with you. “She’s been weird lately. Doesn’t eat much and shit. Why?”

“You gotta finish your story first!”

“I dunno alright! She just spends her time either in bed or asleep, doesn’t do anything unless you ask her, doesn’t even wanna see or talk to me since a few days ago!” Gyutaro threw a bone across the room in frustration. “It’s like she’s kinda unhappy. Did something happen?”

“Kinda unhappy? Now that I think of it she got assigned to the new oiran a few days ago and she treats the girls worse than I do honestly.” Daki suddenly sat up straighter. She’d finish doing her lipstick and now she looked ready to chuck it at her brother. “Did you not notice? Oh my god, you’re so dense! She’s unhappy and you didn’t do a thing about it!”

“WHAT?!”

She did throw it at him. “Go comfort your precious girl in her depressive episode, you stupid dumbass! Honestly, I’m a demon and even I understand emotions better than you.”

***

It seemed like no matter how nice you try to be some girl’s always laughing at you behind her fan and due to the shortage of girls in the house (you suspected to be caused by Daki, but you had your fair share as well) the mistress had been pressuring you to work harder for the new oiran and nothing was to her satisfaction.

Every minor accident magnified tenfold and every day it felt like you were on the verge of tears or…actually, absolute numbness. You didn’t want to care anymore, so despite not needing it anymore you started spending more of your time asleep than awake, eating the minimum to live. Why did you live anyway? Probably because you were too afraid of what happened after.

And you still wanted to hang around to be with Gyutaro…even if he hurt you with his apparent indifference to your current situation.

Everybody was indifferent, in fact. The truth was nobody cared. Nobody was going to come into your room and ask if you were alright, for everyone was too caught up in their problems.

Well, except for whoever’s hand it was that suddenly grabbed you.

Your eyes shot open at once and you grabbed on tightly to the familiar person now carrying your oddly gently, bridal-style, out of your bedroom via the window and climbing upwards agilely. A very familiar someone with a skeletal body frame, an untidy mop of green hair and grey, spotted skin.

“Gyutaro?!” Your voice should’ve been hoarse from the lack of use and water but instead the yelp came out louder and clearer than intended. “What are you doing?!”

He didn’t answer, only set you down on top of the rooftop carefully and settled down next to you awkwardly, scratching away at his neck and arm. Gyutaro nodded upwards. “Just watch.”

And the sky exploded into millions of colors.

“…a fireworks show?” It’s been a while since you’ve smiled, but the way your mouth hung open and widened at the same time couldn’t be helped as you gazed at the vibrant sparks shooting up. Your hand, out of habit, inched closer to his and intertwined fingers. You were startled when he yanked you against him, almost in a cuddling position, but pleased.

“Daki told me. Thought I’d take you to see it since you won’t leave your room otherwise.” Gyutaro seemed to be steeling himself for something, scratching harder. “…you can tell me if you have problems, y’know? I won’t get it but Daki’s a girl and I’ll…try.”

It’s been a while since you actually broke down, let a few tears fall and have someone tuck you closer to hold and comfort while you poured your heart out like a flood after the dam breaks down. It felt good. Gyutaro listened and he was good at it, not punctuating it with blunt “I could go kill thems” or turning away stiffly saying he didn’t understand you and your emotions like he used to, like you thought he would. Occasionally he’d squeeze your hand tight when one particularly loud and beautiful firework went off.

It was…he really knew how to make things better, huh?

“Thanks…” You pressed your head into the bony crook of his neck. “For this. Feel free to kidnap me anytime for a fireworks show, I guess.”

“I’ll take you to a better one next time. And I didn’t kidnap you!”

Ah, that laugh. How he missed hearing it, even over the boom of the sparklers.

The pretty little bird was back and quite surprisingly Gyutaro discovered he could still feel after all: relief and…affection for you.

[grievedeeply]

the less time the better. pt 9.

PREVIOUS | SERIES TAGLIST

pairing: heimdall x gn!reader

summary: you make a trip to midgard and try to cope with brok's death.

notes: again not a lot of heimdall this chapter but...... y/n needs a moment (or multiple) LOL enjoy everyone and thanks for all of the support! probably 2-3 more chapters depending on how long i make them. decided to add more recent people to the taglists, but if you want to be removed let me know at any time! tws: a VERY dead brok. a lot of angst, probably an ooc sindri but i just wanted a nice scene where reader gets to open up to someone about faye and how hard it was for them to deal with her death. this felt like a good time to do it with a comforting moment between them and sindri.

the silence was deafening.

usually the branches of the yggdrasil felt like nothing. they weren't affected by the weather of the 9 realms, as they were the things literally holding them up. but now, you felt strangely cold as you stood on sindri's doorstep.

10 minutes ago, brok was alive. he was making jokes as he always did, but now... he was gone. he was gone forever, and there was nothing you or anyone else could do to bring him back.

"father," your brother's voice cut you out of your thoughts, "where are we going?" he asked, taking his place by your side. you subconsciously wrapped your arm around his shoulder. you knew atreus far too well and you knew that he would blame himself for brok's death. he was the one who wanted to find tyr, but he wasn't the only one who was fooled by odin's ruse, either.

how didn't you notice it? you had never met the real týr before, but you could only assume that he was a god who put the needs of others before himself. could he still be alive? if he was, could you ever think of him as týr, and not the man odin portrayed him as? he was a god with an incredible reputation and an even better legacy— a god of war who advocated for peace. you could only imagine how he would feel, knowing his image was used for something as cruel as deception.

"home." your father responded. he lifted the key to the mystic gateway, and the door opened. you followed after him wordlessly, and atreus matched your step. he still hadn't moved out of your grip yet and a part of you didn't want him to at all.

your feet touched the branches once again, and your thumb pressed into atreus's shoulder, running circles against his armor. he had gotten so big. where had the time gone?

"father, can we.. i.. i wanna go hunting," he said.

"i will follow."

"we're with you, atreus."

the door to midgard opened, and you stepped through silently. you were met by the cool breeze and light snow hitting you face. the last time you were here was because you were going back to asgard. heimdall wouldn't be with you now if you hadn't went back. you wondered how he was doing back at the house. it was probably just as quiet there. brok was usually the one keeping the place lively.

"which way we headed, lad?" mimir asked.

"in.. the direction of deer." he responded simply. you let go of him, but didn't move to follow him. your father turned to look at you. his eyes were filled with a sadness that you had only seen a few times in your life. when your mother died.. when atreus was ill.. and now, at the death of a friend. "go on," you said. "i'll catch up. there's just.. something i want to do here first." you told him.

"i understand." he murmured in response. you put on a smile, the smallest on you could muster, as a way to reassure him. atreus needed this alone time with him. you would have your moment some other day. he needed this.

"be careful," he said to you. you nodded. he turned, following after atreus. he was probably already visiting with speki and svanna by now. those wolves of his were far too intelligent for their own good. you were sure they knew something was wrong. you doubted he would even notice you were gone right away, and you couldn't blame him for it either.

you looked away from your father's back as he walked away from you and instead turned to look at your house. it was a tiny thing, practically built with sticks and prayers, but it held strong and always did what it was supposed to do. it kept you safe. it kept you safe from baldur all of those years ago, and again with thor and odin. you remembered thor breaking the ceiling as he threw your father and his hammer through it, but even then you knew he would be alright. he always was.

you pushed open the door, and it creaked on it's hinges as it always did. you kicked the snow off of your boots before you stepped inside. it was something your mother did every winter before she died, and you picked up on it at a young age. you closed it behind you and took in a deep breath. in a way, it still smelt like her. your mother's presence was all over the home. no matter how long she was gone, you would always feel her here in midgard.

you ran your fingers across the wood of the walls, and closed your eyes. what would you say to her now, if she were here? what would she say to you?

you thought of the dream you had with her in it, where she told you about the importance of making your own decisions. you could only hope she would be proud. you did exactly what you thought was best, without anyone else's input. if you hadn't gone back to asgard, heimdall wouldn't be on your side. he fought beside your father. he fought for you.

you breathed deep, letting the smell of the wet wood fill your nose. heimdall had changed so much since the first time you met. he was arrogant back then, selfish and cruel. now.. he felt like someone else entirely. was that because of you? if you hadn't shown up— dodged his attacks like they were nothing— would he still be loyal to odin? yes, you supposed. he would be. the thought of changing him made you feel good, like you had finally done something right. going back to asgard was worth it because you helped him see the truth. he hadn't spoken about it, really.. but you hadn't asked about it, either. you figured that he needed the time alone to think, but you would be sure to talk to him whenever you got back to sindri's house.

sindri.. the thought of him filled your heart with sadness. before, he never slipped into the realm between realms in plain sight like that. he always went behind something. you always guessed it was the polite thing to do.. but he had done it directly in front of everyone that time. you had to see him, soon. let him know that you were there for him. you'd been through loss too. losing anyone was hard, but family even harder. you couldn't ever imagine losing atreus. you didn't want to think about it.

you sat down on your old bed— a bed that you haven't slept in in weeks— and sighed. things had changed so much since the day you departed to spread your mother's ashes. you never would've met brok and sindri if it wasn't for that journey. or mimir.. or freya. you met almost everyone you cared about because of her. even heimdall, now. it was weird, saying you cared about him. but you did. you couldn't change that now.

you lied down. your head touched the pillows, and you took in another breath. you had spent so much time here with your mother. this was the place she died, too. at home and warm. at least you could give that to her.

it felt like hours before you got up again, but in reality, it was just a few minutes. everything here reminded of her, and you were glad for it. just thinking of her kept her with you. you never wanted that to change.

you thought back to your dream once again, and pushed yourself to your feet. the river you fished in so many times with her wasn't too far from the house. before she got sick, the two of you would venture out further downstream. in one of those places on the river.. that was where your dream took place. it was the peak of her life with you. but as her illness progressed, she became too tired to fish. she would go out less and less, staying closer to home. you would fish for her, but you were never as good as she was. still, you would come home with a pail full, and she would praise you for it.

you would do anything to hear her voice again.

you opened the door once more and stepped back out into the cold. you had spent so much time in midgard during fimbulwinter, but you swore you would never get used to the weather. you made your way into the woods, and you were met with the river once again. it hadn't changed much over the years, even though it had been some time since you had visited. after her death, you came less and less. the memory of her was too painful, and all fishing did was remind her of her and how she was gone.

you took in a quick breath through your nose and stepped into the water. she had told you once that you would get used to the cool temperatures of the water, and she was right. you didn't shiver or flinch at the cold. instead, you welcomed it like a warm blanket that washed over you.

"i miss you." you whispered. somehow, you knew she was listening. the world was unfair for taking her away so soon. "i love you." you told her. you swallowed the lump in your throat. would she be able to meet brok again? you could only hope so. the thought of it put a smile on your face. at least he wouldn't be alone in the afterlife. he would be with a friend.

you closed your eyes and took in the scenery. the sound of the breeze rushing through the trees, the chirping of birds and cracking of twigs under the weight of an animal somewhere.

it would be okay, you told yourself.

just one more minute.

you hadn't been to týr's temple in a long time.

you hadn't needed to, after all. with all of the towers closed in every realm and no way for travel, you never needed to go back. and now, it was still unable for use. no matter how many times you passed by it while hunting, you never stopped inside until now.

you knew this is where sindri would be though. this is the place where he made up with brok. this is where he would be, and you were sure atreus knew that too. you were sure that he and your father had already paid him a visit themselves, but you wanted to on your own. you needed to let him know you were there for him, even if he pretended he didn't need it.

it was a long walk from home, which meant you had plenty of time to think. plenty of time to blame yourself for brok's death in the first place. how could no one have noticed? you tried not to think about it too much. he wouldn't want blame being passed around. you knew that.

you sighed as you pulled yourself up the stairs. now covered in ice, you remembered when the lake was water. atreus was much younger then— much smaller. once again, you thought of the good young man he was becoming. it hadn't truly been that long since that journey and yet.. it felt like lifetimes ago.

you stared up at the doorway and pushed it open with little struggle, only a grunt escaping your lips as you did so. the inside was much warmer, and you welcomed the feeling. the familiar sound of hammering filled your ears, and as you looked, you were greeted by sindri's back. brok's body lay on the table to his side, and you blinked away your emotions. this wasn't about you.

"go away," he said without even turning to look at you.

you cleared your throat, taking an awkward step closer to him. sindri was different. his clothing was covered in blood and dirt, and so were his arms. he hadn't cleaned since brok died. how much of that was his blood? you bit at the inside of your cheek, trying your best to shove the thought out of your head.

"sindri.." you started. what was there to even say? you didn't know. instead, you stood there. after a few moments of agonizingly long silence, he turned to face you. he sat the hammer down with a thud on the table, and you felt small under his gaze.

"what?" he snapped. now that his face was in the light, you could see how red his eyes were. he had been crying. you wished there was something more you could do, but.. there was nothing you could do to bring brok back, and that was what sindri wanted.

"i just.. wanted to let you know that i'm here." you told him.

you swore you saw his gaze soften.

"i know you probably don't want company right now or.. or anything like that," you swallowed, "but i just.. had to tell you that." you murmured.

sindri remained silent. he looked away from you and towards the ceiling. you only wished you could read his thoughts. he had become someone completely different. yesterday he was happy. despite the fact of ragnarok looming over him, he was happy because he had his brother there.

"i can't imagine.." you whispered out to him, lips pursed together. "i couldn't ever imagine losing atreus. i'm.. so sorry." you told him. by now, you were standing on opposite sides of the table he had spent so much time working at.

"that's what he said." he said. "atreus." he can barely force himself to say his name.

"i figured he would come."

silence fell over the room again and suddenly, sindri shook his head.

"you don't.. you don't get to be sorry." he said. "you still have your brother. because of him and because of you— i will never have mine back." sindri laid his hand on brok's chest. you felt a pang shoot through your chest at his words, but you didn't argue. you couldn't do that to him. you looked down at brok's body. you had to look at him. that was the least you could do.

"i know." you muttered.

"he brought him into my home." he whispered. "and he.."

"i know."

he looked back up at you, gaze narrowed. you could practically see the whirlwind of emotions going through his mind just by looking at is eyes.

"what do you know?" sindri asked quietly.

"i know what loss feels like." you said simply. "when my mother died, i was.. i was inconsolable. i needed her with me to.. to function, to live." you took in a breath, heavy through your lungs.

"my father.. none of us ever told you what happened to her, did we?"

at his silence, you took it as your que to continue.

"she got sick."

his brow furrowed.

"sick? faye?" he asked quietly. you nodded.

"i thought.. how could a woman as strong as her get sick like this? how could she be healthy one day and then in her deathbed a few weeks later? i didn't understand it. i still don't. but i.. i know what it's like to grieve, sindri. i understand."

he only looked at you.

"i know my apologies won't bring brok back." you murmured. "but i.. just need you to know that i'm here for you."

he swallowed. his took a deep, shaky breath. you knew your words meant very little, but if they provided any sort of comfort to him, your trip out here would be worth it. sindri squeezed brok's hand.

"it's all my fault." you heard sindri murmur under his breath. "what?" you asked, head tilted to the side in confusion. "brok.. he died. before." he told you.

"when he.. when he died, i couldn't handle it. i went to the lake of souls and i jumped in. i.. found pieces of his soul. all of them except for one." he whispered, unable to tear his eyes off of his brother. "and now he.. doesn't have them all. he can't go anywhere. he's ceased to exist."

"that's not your fault." you told him without missing a beat. "brok.. what he said before.." you cleared your throat as sindri's gaze finally shifted up to you. "he said he forgave you. this.. that's not on you. he understood." you muttered softly. he blinked a few times, running his thumb across the back of brok's hand. tears filled his eyes, and you forced yourself to give him a comforting smile.

he said nothing in response.

"can i.. say a prayer?" you asked, your gaze shifting from brok's body to sindri's eyes. he could only nod as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

you breathed deeply, in through your nose and out through your mouth. while you didn't have the items you had when you were mourning your mother.. you didn't mind. you doubted brok would've wanted something fancy like that anyway.

"lo, there do i see my mother," you whispered.

"lo, there do i see my father.." you continued, falling onto one knee next to the table. "and my sisters and my brothers. lo, there do i see the line of my people. back to the beginning. lo, there do they call to me. they bid me take my place among them in the halls of valhalla."

"where the brave may live forever."

you finished, pressing your forehead against brok's arm. he was cold. stiff. the last time you did this, it was for your mother. it was the exact prayer you and atreus had said before her funeral. you swallowed, feeling pressure build up in your throat. you stayed there for a moment, and sindri watched you wordlessly.

you knew there was no valhalla for brok. but he was brave. and he would live forever within you, within everyone who loved him.

you pushed yourself to your feet, turning your attention back to sindri. "thank you." you said to him, and he nodded once again. "i'll.. be at the house." you muttered, turning on your heel to leave him to his thoughts. you swore you could feel him watching as you left.

you pushed the heavy doors open and stepped back into the cold of midgard.

lo, there do they call to me. you repeated to yourself.

lo, there do they call to me.

tags: @ic-yourface @alisblackgf @engardeitsme @venfia @dijanur @s1mpss @gorepitt @callalillie15 @bluehorizon987 @vanserrar @trippingoverstars @mysiax @beaniebear152 @rei64bit @neverendingdumptser @a-bunny13 @lei-leigha @candy4bonez @yyourmotherr @blobdrake-theory @zarizee @rainygamingstreamingturtle @kise-kae @aesthetic-of-a-director @unodostrescuatrolove @nixeustheclamity @aiciteaa @multifand0m-gal0re @chibi668 @wonderkive @lentillo @luffysoctopus @elizabeth-hatake @black-star1472 @lacm-ac @sxmirae @maggot-baggage @emc2beans @suzumi-hiddenmistclan @white-lyra @lmorg149 @iamverydreamy @giornos-curls @reinabxitch @ourchampionofthesun @paintmekala @the-eternal-sunflower @alextric-overload @lynn-haitani @prettysurethatsakidney @justsomereaderwholikesanime @emmbny @kukungi @sweetdayme4427 @mimiissia

[thedeathlysallows]

Is It Over Now? (11)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Aemma Velaryon

Summary: And maybe it was ego's swinging

Warnings: canon typical Targaryen incest. Developing Stockholm Syndrome, Aemma is becoming an unreliable narrator. Simp!Aemond appears again (not that he really ever leaves lol). Smut, fingering, religion kink, not sub!Aemond but he does beg a bit, oral (f!receiving)

(We've reached the Alys Rivers arc and it'll probably take a few chapters to settle. Also, we've shifted to this song for the second half of the story.)

Tag list: @callsignwidow

"You know how much I love you," Aemond whispers in your ear as the candles flicker out, plunging your bedchamber into darkness. His arms wrap around your waist and hold you in a vice grip against the hard edges of his body. "Enough with the punishment."

You can't help but scoff. "Punishment? Tell me, my dear husband, how are you the one being punished when I'm the one expected to sit back and watch my family be hunted into extinction?"

"I've apologized countless times for Lucerys."

"Yes, of course you have. All of you have, save for Aegon and that scheming snake of a man you call grandfather. All everyone does is apologize to me."

"What more do you need? What will end this?"

"Give me your other eye."

"What?"

Aemond looks at you, disbelief coloring his sharp features. You stare back, unblinking. Moments pass by in silence as the two of you take each other in. You aren't sure what exactly triggers it, but your lower lip quivers and tears spring to your eyes.

"I don't mean it. Not really. I don't know why I said it..." You choke out a sob and bury your face in his chest. Aemond's hand immediately goes to your hair as he comforts you.

He knew you didn't mean- you would never be so vicious- but the comment was still jarring nonetheless. Aemond knew you would never mean such a thing, but there's still a slight tremor in his hand as he pets you gently. He's worked so hard to get to this point, to have you in his arms, and he feels like he can see the end of it all before it's barely even begun.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me." The tears won't stop no matter how hard you try.

A small flicker of hope flickers in Aemond's chest. "Could you be pregnant?"

"It hasn't been long enough."

"It's been two months at this point. We've both been performing our duties-"

"How clinical." You look up at him wryly, feeling uncertain of his reaction to your outburst. You really hadn't meant to say that to him. You were just so angry and then so desperately sad when you realized how hurtful you'd been.

Aemond smiles down at you indulgently, tilting your chin to press your lips to his. "Shall I be more romantic then?"

Your stomach churns violently in direct competition with the heat growing between your thighs. You love Aemond- at least you think you do- but you also love your mother and brothers. There's a part of you still lost to mourning. You've heard nothing from anyone, locked away inside your ivory tower in the Keep, only allowed news from Aemond's mouth directly. (Or Aegon's when he sends Aemond off some place or another, but even that's becoming less frequent as Aegon becomes more and more obsessed with being King.)

"You? Romantic? Maybe if the Conqueror himself returned." The joke comes easily. Joking with Aemond has always been easy. You can do that. You can tell jokes and make him smile because you like his smile, and because it's safer to distract him than fuck him.

You still keep your master plan in the back of your mind: let all of them think they've tamed you until you can find a way back to your mother's side. When you came up with your plan you didn't anticipate it would become harder and harder to pretend with each passing day. You didn't anticipate actually loving Aemond, nor did you anticipate Aemond's love for you being real.

It's terrifying to feel your grip slowly loosening.

Aemond's voice calls you back from your thoughts while he gently rolls you under him. "I can be romantic if that's what you need. I'll be anything you need. Just let me in."

"Aemond-"

"Please, don't fight me anymore. Stop pushing me away. I adore you, why can't you see that?" His fingers dig in to the fabric of your nightgown, pulling and tugging until it's over your head, discarded on the floor by the unlit fire place. Your skin feels like it's on fire as his gaze travels over your body, hands following each curve and dip.

"So pretty," he whispers adoringly.

"Don't. Please."

Aemond's eye flickers up to yours. He still keeps the patch on, neither one of you fully ready to embrace the consequences of the past when the present is so precarious. You swallow thickly, unable to look away as his hand creeps up to your breast. His fingers toy with the soft buds there, teasing your nipples until you're almost sore. A soft whine escapes you and you see Aemond's face darken.

"Don't what?" He finally says. "Don't worship you as the goddess you are?"

Aemond bends his head to kiss just under your breasts, reveling in the feel of your soft stomach as he drags his lips lower. If you were burning before, you're positively on fire now, desperate for whatever Aemond will do next. He reaches your thighs with a moan, nipping at the delicate skin there.

"Let me die on your altar," he says. "I'll do it happily, over and over."

Your fingertips thread through his silky hair and you pull his face to your cunt. Aemond breathes out a small laugh that sends a puff of warm air over your sensitive pussy. He wastes no time, diving between your folds like a starving man. His tongue is absolutely sinful as he licks you, working a magic you never would've expected from him.

"Aemond, yes, right there." You moan out the words, knowing how much he loves the praise. And you're more than happy to give it as his long fingers enter you, pumping in time with each lick he gives your clit.

"Tell me you love me," Aemond demands while he keeps thrusting and curling his fingers inside your cunt. "Tell me you're mine."

You nod, his words not fully registering, but you repeat them anyway. "I'm y-yours... l-love you... so much."

"Mmm, such a good girl. You've always been so, so good, haven't you?" Aemond's fingers brush against that most sensitive spot inside you and you arch your back off the bed, screaming his name like a litany of prayers over and over.

"Look at you. Haven't even put my cock in you and your already coming." He pulls you into a lazy kiss, all tongue and teeth and you don't mind at all. "I've always believed you're the Maiden come to save me."

Aemond buries his face in your neck, nipping and biting, leaving marks you know the whole court will see. "Will you save me? Absolve my sins?"

You sigh, fingernails digging into his back as you hook your legs over his waist. "Aemond...please, please, please."

"Forgive me, Maiden." Aemond pants the words into your ear, his hips jerking when your warm cunt drags across his cock. "Forgive me so I can worship you properly, please."

You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "I forgive you."

With a heady sigh he sinks into you, his cock stretching you out in the most exquisite way. You see stars behind your eye lids as he begins fucking you, pounding his cock deep inside your cunt. He's ruthless and desperate in his movements as he watches you come undone beneath him, the very image of Heaven.

"I love you," Aemond moans. "Ah, fuck, I love you..."

You whine desperately, completely at his mercy as he cums inside you and fills your cunt. You have the brief thought that maybe this time you are pregnant, but Aemond is there before you can pursue the thought further. He brushes the hair from your face and kisses your nose before laying down beside you and pulling you close.

"Aegon is sending me to Harrenhal in the morning. I asked to take you with me, but the Council convinced him it would be a mistake. I promise I'll return as soon as I'm able."

"Harrenhal..." You can see Harwin Strong's face in your mind's eye, so similar to that of your brothers'...

Aemond strokes your face worriedly. "Please don't lock yourself in this room while I'm gone."

But you can't promise anything.