#why am I still thinking about supernatural

[jensenknowsdeanbetterthanyou]

David Nutter, who directed the pilot episode, knew Jensen from Dark Angel and suggested Jensen for the role of Sam when discussing casting with Kripke. So Jensen was the first to audition for Sam, and Kripke thought he was perfect....but then Jared came along.

Now, can we honestly believe that Jared was a better actor in the audition process? Jared fans like to believe so.

We all know that Jensen preferred Dean anyway, so that's who he got to play (with no audition which would explain why there was no footage in the season 1 dvd extras) but I doubt it was because he lost out to Jared in the acting stakes. Years ago I heard that Jared had a deal with the WB after Gilmore Girls, and they were looking for a show for him to "star" in. They first tried with Young MacGyver which flopped immediately, so their next attempt was Supernatural. It's not hard to believe that the WB network pushed for Jared to play Sam, and Supernatural be his new show under this deal, and Kripke relented because he still got Jensen, only now playing Dean.

During their first season, Jared apparently got more promotion from the WB than Jensen did because Jared was intended to be the "star". Meanwhile, in the writers room, Kripke was making sure Dean was now much more than just a supporting role as originally intended. Kripke clearly loved Jensen as an actor, the way he gushed about him from the very beginning in the show's commentary, and as you watch season 1 you can see how the writing went from being mainly Sam's pov to more and more Dean's pov. By season 2, the changes were set in, and from then on the show became more Deancentric thanks to Jensen being "a victim of his own talent". Jensen I think by now was also considered the breakout star.

By the way, the amount of times Kripke would wax lyrical about Jensen's acting and then add at the end "oh and Jared too" is the never not funny to me.

Am I saying that Kripke had Jared forced upon him by the network and always preferred Jensen as an actor? Maaaybe? Jensen was no doubt Kripke's favourite out of the two.

Always thought this was an interesting choice of words when Jensen won the People's Choice award in 2016.

Now we have jokes and memes about Kripke's obsession with Jensen, what with Kripke "joking" about wanting to make sure Jensen is always employed first with The Boys and now Vought Rising...and probably beyond, I would not be surprised.

“So the general audience favors Sam because he's the main character.”

You sure about that

[aplaceinthedark]

chapter three: ONE TASTE of the LIFE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 2,945

CW: Supernatural themes, Star Wars spoilers, Hand Jobs (male receiving)

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long. For the past several months, I've been dealing with job issues and major burnout depression. Whereas that's still hanging around, I think I might be in a better place to write more. If you're still hanging on despite my hiatus, thank you very muchness.

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

“Taylor? Are you listening to a word I said?”

I jumped, nearly knocking my water bottle over. “N-No. I’m sorry. What were you saying?” I asked sheepishly.

Rachel smiled sympathetically. “Still worried about the break-in?” she asked. I nodded, as I had told everyone that that was the reason why I was so jumpy.

I liked Rachel. Despite being almost twenty years older than me, she was sort of my only friend outside the circle of misfits and monsters I had embedded myself in. She also didn’t live in New Hope, thankfully. She was a transfer from a bigger town, since our library desperately needed one after one of our librarians “mysteriously disappeared” last August.

Said librarian’s assistant had also “mysteriously vanished” as well, leaving a job wide open for me to fill. I didn’t mind it, being Rachel’s assistant. I might have to do grunt work a lot of the time, but at least she helped instead of just dumping it all on me.

“Anyways, as I was saying, I’m pretty sure no one has gone through the donation bin this decade, if you want to make a dent in it.”

Sitting on my ass while I sort for the next two hours? “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I said, earning a chuckle from her as I stood up and left the front desk.

There were several boxes. She wasn’t kidding. This was going to take longer than I thought. Setting my phone off to the side, I pressed play on one of my safe-for-work playlists and started humming along to some Chappell Roan.

It had been a few days since the incident with the pale creature that had come onto my porch. There had been no repeat occurrences at our place, but someone had said something about seeing a sick-looking coyote at the edge of their yard. I hadn’t mentioned that to Nick, since I wasn’t even sure that it was the same thing that I had seen. 

And Nick was… I couldn’t burden him with any more problems. Between his time at the new tattoo place, townspeople coming to him for remedies to their ailments, and not being able to sleep very well, he was exhausted. I had woken up to him passed out on his couch this morning, Lydia loafing on his back. If I could make him sleep for an entire day, I would do it in a heartbeat.

I pulled the next box towards me and dug through the dusty contents. I was sure now that most of these donations were just from older ladies dumping the contents of their attics off on us just to free up some space. Several of these books so far were the same cookbook in different states of decay. 

I was just about to ask Rachel for a mask since I was tired of sneezing out dust when my hand pulled out a book that was different from all the others. A quick flip through revealed it was a journal. Either their handwriting was terrible or it was written in a different language, because I couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was saying. But some of the drawings in it intrigued me, so I set it in the Keep Pile, with the intention to ask Rachel what to do with it. If someone donated it without knowing, they might want it back.

By the end of my shift, my back and lungs didn’t appreciate what work I had gotten done. “Being in your thirties must be rough,” Rachel laughed as I tried popping my back several times. “Maybe you could get that cute boyfriend of yours to help you out later tonight.”

I felt a brief flush rise to the surface of my skin as I thought about Nick’s skilled fingers. “Quit it,” I mumbled, earning a cackle from her that would normally get someone in a library in trouble.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the journal in my hands.

“Oh, I found it in one of the boxes. It looks like somebody might’ve accidentally put it in the donation box. Should we ask if they want it back?” I said.

Rachel shook her head. “Sorry buttercup,” she said, using her nickname for me. “Those were anonymous, and who knows how long ago it was donated. There’s no way we’d be able to trace it back to its owner. Unless it has historic value, we’re supposed to throw it out.”

Something in my face must’ve changed her mind. “Well, if you don’t want to, I could conveniently look the other way when you leave,” she said. 

I was about to say that no, that it was fine, that I didn’t need another written book in my house when Nick was still combing through Granny’s hex books, but the words caught in my throat and I thanked her instead. Maybe if I could find its owner, that would be one good deed I’d done for this town, since they were still wary of me several months after I had moved in.

The library closed at seven, but I didn’t get to go to my car until half an hour later. Late April still meant that it was dark out when I left work, but the building was in the middle of New Hope, the forest a ways off. I dashed to my car through the rain, the water from the puddles splashing up as my feet crashed down in them. 

My fingers were wrapped around the car’s door handle when  a cold rush of air blew through my denim jacket, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I froze as the door automatically unlocked, the sound as loud as a gunshot despite the sound of the rain. Something in the reflection of the car window caught my eye.

Someone was behind me.

I slowly turned around, trying not to startle it. Meanwhile, my mind was racing in confusion and fear. Nothing came out of the woods. The town was safe.

The boys couldn’t help me if something were to happen to me out here.

So what was the shadowy figure doing in the middle of a parking lot?

It didn’t move as I stared at it. It was almost formless; I could just make out the thin, vaguely humanoid shape of it. Even if I wanted to say something, my throat had closed shut. The chill of the night increased, the wind picking up and sending some bits of trash skittering across the asphalt. But it didn’t disturb the shadow. 

I opened my mouth to say… something? Shout at it to scare it away? But another voice startled me into screaming. I whipped around. 

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Taylor!” Rachel swore, hand on her heart. She was standing a few feet away under her umbrella. “What’re you still doing here? Are you okay?”

“Uhh… yeah. Just thought I saw something,” I said. I turned back around.

Other than us, the parking lot was empty.

The smell of food coming through a cracked window greeted me as I stepped onto the front porch. My knees felt weak at the thought of Nick cooking after the heart attack I had had. I took a moment to compose myself, exhaling as I turned the doorknob and stepped into our home.

It was indeed Nick cooking, as he stood in front of the stove. His long black hair was tied up in a bun, and he was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses. “Hiya,” he said, not even turning around. 

I dropped my backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table, immediately walking over and hugging him from behind. “Woah, hey. Everything alright?” He asked. His hand moved down to cover both of mine.

I should tell him; I need to tell him. Instead, I nodded into the space between his shoulders. Even though a part of me knew that the creepiness of the town's legends were true, I still couldn't believe that something would come out of the woods and into the safeness of the streets.

So what I said instead was, “I missed you,” into his shirt. 

“Missed you more,” he said in return, despite seeing each other this morning. 

“What are you making?” I asked, peering over his shoulder. 

“Just some hamburger pasta. Thought it would be good for an easy night, since it's just the two of us until later tonight.”

“Really? Not even Folio?” I asked. 

Without looking up, Nick pointed over at the kitchen calendar with the spoon in his free hand. A little black circle was drawn on today's date and the next two days. The New Moons meant that Folio was stuck in his Grim form until the first sliver of the moon shined. Kind of like a werewolf but opposite. 

“It'll be done in a few. Go get comfortable and I'll put on a movie,” he said, his own way of shooing me out of the kitchen. As I parted with him, I saw that he hadn't done the same with Lydia, who was watching from the floor with her hungry eyes. 

As I changed into some lounge pants and an old sweater of Nick's, I tried to think of a way to bring up the encounter with the shadow person. There was no way that he wouldn't get upset about it, that was a fact. Maybe after we ate.

When I came back out into the front room, Nick had helped himself to making my plate and putting it on the coffee table. I sat down next to him, I pulled my plate onto my lap. He had pulled up Rise of Skywalker for us to watch.

“So who’s coming later?” I asked as he started the movie.

“Noah,” Nick mumbled. There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, so I guess Noah had transferred something to his mind that annoyed him. 

“That's fine,” I said, squeezing his thigh. 

After eating, I curled up into Nick, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We should dress up as Kylo and Rey for Halloween again,” he said.

“Your hair’s getting too long for you to be Kylo,” I said, poking the side of his head.

“Yeah, because Rey is totally a blonde.”

“It was last minute!”

We kept up the light commentary for most of the film. I was fine up until the part when Rey sacrificed herself to kill the Emperor. As Ben Solo sacrificed himself to resurrect her, I threaded my fingers through his. A moment passed, and then Nick squeezed my hand. 

When the credits rolled, I tried to get up to take our dishes back to the kitchen sink. Nick pulled me back down. “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, pulling me onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around me.

“Was gonna do the dishes, since you made dinner,” I said.

He pulled my head gently to rest on his shoulder. “Just stay here. With me,” he said, quietly. He would do this if he thought I was about to have one of my moments. 

He started playing with my hair, making my eyes flutter shut. “Okay,” I said. 

He kissed my forehead, but as he was pulling away, I reached up to cup his face and direct him further down. His lips brushed mine before pressing down once, soft and tender, but then he tried pulling away again. “Are you su–”

“Nick,” I pleaded, his name coming out in a rush. If he had any resolve before, it came crumbling down within milliseconds.

He was still a bit hesitant, flicking his tongue against my lips. But I wasn’t made of glass, so I pushed his chest until his back was pressed onto the couch cushions. I crawled up him until I was straddling his hips, my knees pressing into the sides of his waist. The kiss never broke.

It didn’t take long for him to harden beneath me, and I couldn’t help the small, satisfactory grin that rose to my lips. I ran my hand down his chest, down his stomach to the waistband of his shorts. When I finally parted with Nick, his hand shot up to curl around the back of my head. “Bun–”

“Can I touch you?” I asked.

“Oh, fuck yes. Please,” he pleaded.

I lifted myself a little bit, just enough to give me some room to slip my hand underneath the waistband of his boxer-briefs. The angle might’ve been a little bit awkward, but it didn’t really matter when I wrapped my fingers around the considerable size of him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back against the pillows. The movement caused him to bare the pretty tan skin over his throat, and I practically descended upon it. The minute I mouthed over his pulse point, his hips rolled up, rutting into my hand. On the upstroke I rubbed my thumb over the tip, and he made my favorite sound of–

Click.

We both froze, my hand down his pants. I quickly raised my head and our eyes locked on each other at the sound of the door unlocking. As the front door opened, I quickly rose up to stand on my knees. Noah stopped dead in his tracks, confusion written on his face. 

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said immediately, Nick echoing my words from below me.

Noah’s eyes roamed over me for a second, and his face hardened. “Please, continue. I don’t want to interrupt you guys making out in–”

Nick sat up, crawling out from underneath me. If he stood up, Noah could easily see that we were doing more than making out. “When we agreed on later, I mean late.” 

“It’s after eleven. I think that’s late enough,” Noah said, striding across the kitchen to the fridge, where he took out a beer. 

As Nick straightened himself, I caught the look on his face that said he was communicating with Noah through the bond that he had with everyone. Was there something agreed upon that didn’t require me knowing about? 

My thought was all but confirmed when Nick put his hand on my waist. “You wanna go to bed, Bun?” he asked, looking up at me with big green eyes. In this lighting, they were dark as the evergreens outside.

“No, I’m not tired,” I said. I fixed him with a look that said that I wasn’t going to be kept in the dark. Again.

He sighed. “Hang on, I gotta get the hex book,” he said, standing up. He then walked to the spare bedroom.

I looked over at Noah, who was leaning back against the fridge. He perked an eyebrow. “How was work?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was gonna tell him.”

“But you got distracted, didn’t you?”

“Fuck off, Bambi.”

“Oh, I’m about to do worse than that.”

I tilted my head. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Nick came back with a small, leatherbound notebook. He tossed it onto the kitchen table, as if it personally offended him. “We’ve been doing this all wrong,” he said. He practically collapsed into one of the chairs. 

“Doing what wrong? What is ‘this’?” I asked.

“There’s a reason why the Valley has been getting worse these past few years. More things showing up, resurfacing, growing bolder enough to where people can catch glimpses of them. Pale Things showing up shouldn’t be a surprise, really.” He was babbling, practically. But then he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Those sacrifices weren’t just for Vessels. They were also to keep the Woods from getting worse.”

Noah’s lips thinned. “I told you, I’m not killing any more innocent people.”

“Yeah, I know, and I think I found a way around that, but…” Nick trailed off. He then silently opened the hex book and flipped to a page he had marked. He then held it out towards me.

“Why me?” I asked.

“I’ve already seen it,” Noah said. 

I took the book and glanced at the pages. It wasn’t in any readable context: Granny wrote in some kind of “language” that had been passed down through her family as to keep their practice a secret from others. Nick had been slowly translating them over the past few months into his own notebooks.

“What is this?” I finally asked. 

“It's a… Fertility Ritual.” Nick swallowed thickly. “My ancestors would send someone into the forest so the Forest would be… sated.”

“A sacrifice. Like what happened with you guys.” I waved a hand over Noah. 

“No! Well… sort of,” Nick said. He bit his lip. 

“That was more the Black Stag's version. Though it wanted sacrifices so it could take a mortal form.” Noah folded his arms over his chest. “This is a… less bloody version.”

I skimmed over the page again, and it finally clicked. “When you say ‘fertility’, you mean… Noah's got to knock someone up?”

“No!” The two shouted at the same time. “God, fuck no,” Nick sighed. “But the baby making process is the main part.”

“He has to have sex with someone?” I asked incredulously. 

“Not just someone…” Nick lowered his voice to a mumble. “Someone with a… someone of the opposite sex.”

“Well how the fuck is he gonna do that?” I asked. “Everyone around here will recognize him, and then you got the antlers to deal with.”

The two were quiet suddenly. Nick put his head in his hands. “Bun…”

“What?”

“He's talking about you,” Noah put bluntly.

tysm for reading! If you enjoyed this, please reblog to share the word of the Revered Father. Next chapter coming soon.

Featured Creatures

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

@roley-poley-foley @hedonists @philomenie @shilohrosechicken @comforting-madness @sitkowski

@screamsinsilver @darksigns-exe @nojoyontheburn @baddestomens

[noonemonitorsmyscreentime]

If he doesn't have daddy issues on a cosmic level, is he really the one?

[sciderman]

(Idk if someone asked this already) since we’re on the topic of gender

sci what is gender to you and how do you see it in you and how you express it in your art?? (Just a young queer artist who wants some light shined upon them 🥺)

i 'unno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[xlucy-in-the-skyx]

It's just occurred to me that Castiel from Supernatural is a classic example of the 'Born Sexy Yesterday' trope. He's just this hot little twink that doesn't know how cell phones work and getting in Dean's personal space making him all flustered

[t00muchheart]

Okay but why are people so aggressive in the notes on polls like ?? I’m sorry people aren’t agreeing with you that does not call for an attack on their character or you saying they’re stupid or clearly lack insight

Having different interpretations of a piece of media can actually generate really cool discussions and even if you don’t agree with a certain view that doesn’t mean the person holding it should be attacked

[scottstiles]

i just need to know like. why and what is the reason and wherefore are we just deciding to kill off perfectly fine and capable and young middle aged characters with their entire fucking half a life ahead of them when they FINALLY step back from the life that should have killed them but didn’t like WHY CAN’T THEY JUST RETIRE AND TAKE THEIR KIDS FISHING AND HAVE BIRTHDAY PARTIES AND A WIFEHUSBAND TO KISS IN THE MORNING AND MAYBE SOME PIE FOR SUPPER ONCE IN AWHILE ITS NOT THAT DEEP

I SAID DONT PUT YOUR FUCKING SHIP ON THIS POST ISTG

[fingertipsmp3]

Why am I a fucking dumbass. Like genuinely

[19catsncounting]

Therapy isn't enough I need the CW to go back and re-film Season 11 to prove that Lucifer could have been saved if Michael didn't abandon him like Dean refused to abandon Sam.

[noonemonitorsmyscreentime]

Jackles to the Supernatural writers sometime before the finale was written: 'Give me gay sex or give me death!!

[souporsaladnatural]

 “I also- I also feel uncomfortable with you complimenting me like that. I’m not used to this dynamic, and thank you that’s very- very sweet of you. Uhm… you know I think that part of why- Um- It’s not really related to your question but I- I just- This brings it to mind, part of I think why this fandom is so strong, why our relationship with you and yours with us is so strong, is that this show ran for so long. And you literally got to watch Sam and Dean grow up over the course of the series. They- You- You guys went from being boys to… you know, advanced age, advanced middle-aged men… and, um, but actually spending so much time with characters and watching them grow and evolve and change, and frankly degrade, is- is really powerful. It’s like being, you know we say Supernatural family, but that’s what happens in a family. You watch a family grow up, right? And… we also had this very surreal, and I surmise never to be replicated in our lifetimes experience, of also getting to know the characters that we were playing, so well, and the characters that we were playing opposite, so well, that… it started to blur the lines internally for us. I think I’m speaking for you as well. Like, you said ‘Dean is still in here’, Cas is still in here, but I know that Dean is- Like- Dean, to you, I’m sure, feels like a part of you. Not- Not just a charac- Not just a- a- a wardrobe that you put on, not just a character that you put on, but actually a part of you and, um… that is- It’s- It’s such a strange thing. So when, when like, when one character was saying goodbye to the other, we were really broken up about it. Like, we were broken up about it, cause it was- It felt real to us. Cause we sort of lost our minds.”

Transcribed Misha's response to Jensen's answer for what scene he was most proud of, because I am so incredibly, deeply unwell about it right now

[evilminji]

The more I learn about John Constantine? The more I am certain you COULD just... dump Danny on him.

Like... literally.

Full on, sack of unconscious potatoes, "here ya go, deal with it, here's an unconscious royal teenager!", Dumped in his arms/lap at some shitty hole in the wall bar, by Suspicious Supernatural Forces, DUMPED on him. Like? Yep. It's a Tuesday. Guess he's NOT getting to finish this beer.

And you know what?

Knowing the crowd Danny runs with? They'd at least... SORTA try and explain what's happening? Instead of play the fun ol "HOT POTATO! Think fast, Constantine! Figure it out!" And run shpeal that he normally deals with. Thoughtful, really.

Don't get him wrong. It's still BULLSHIT. But at least he has a vague idea of WHY he's holding an unconscious, heavily bleeding, half-divine-but-not-really half human, teenager.

Fuckers left a few sticky notes.

THANKS.

He just LOVES patching up actively radioactive wounds while trying to translate... what is this? Mesopotamian? Who writes out their emojis in Mesopotamian?! "Smiling face emotional picture" my ASS. Still...

Kid in way over their head, hunted by damn never everyone for trying to do the right thing, AND grappling with their recent lose of a decent chunk of their own humanity? Oh and now he's KING of a whole spankin new Realm!

Fuck "Realms". Nothing ever good comes out of "Realms".

And APPARENTLY? His VIP returning customers spot under the Bus has been reserved! Because he's the kid's "Gaurdian". Why? So the nice Goverment stooges in suits will come knocking on HIS door first, of course.

......he'd be more pissed about that one if he wasn't REAL interested in what those bastards had to say for themselves. Meddling with forces they shouldn't be touching. Provoking God only knows what. He fucking KNEW those storms weren't natural.

Just? John getting handed a Suspect Youth. Press X for doubt and Sus. Okay... then give him back. No! Fuck you, says local Laughing Magician, I don't trust you EITHER.

Danny wakes up to the... VERY? Ngl? Intense(tm) stare down of... holy shit, are you an Actual Angel? (Yes. He is. Better hope you're not secretly evil or he's gonna bring The Smiting) Then the world's ACTUAL greatest Detective, who is a chimpanzee, offers him expertly made tea and the cheap take-out John brought with him.

He is in Space.

It's still not the weirdest morning he's ever had. But it's getting there.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Another Life

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV

Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining

Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really.  Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics

Main Masterlist

*********************************************

Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.

“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.

Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.

“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.

His eyes open,  blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.

Wait. Where am I?

“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”

Dean looks towards the voice and  realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.

“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.

“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”

“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.

“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.

Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.

“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”

Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.

“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.

Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.

“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”

Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to

 grasp it. “I did?”

“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.

“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.

I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?

“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.”  You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.

Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.

“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”

His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.

“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.

Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.

“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s  voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.

“Sam?”

“Dean.”

“Um.”

“Dean are you hungover or something?”

“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.

“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“

“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.

“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“

“I’m alright Sammy.”

But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.

“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”

Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.

You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.

A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.

“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.

Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.

Where could that be from?

“I don’t know.”

“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”

“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder

“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.

Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits  at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.

Why?

Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.

Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories  you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.

“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”

“Here?”

“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.

“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”

Dean stares at you.

“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.

And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.

*********************************************

“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.

The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.

It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.

You  in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you.  That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.

But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.

When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.

“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.

“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.

Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.

Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.

"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.

"Shut up."

"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.

"Don't joke about that y/n."

"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.

Why can't I remember any of this life?

"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.

"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.

"You do."

Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"

Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.

"No mom, we're not-"

"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.

"It's not a fight y/n!"

"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.

His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.

"I'm not yelling at y/n." 

"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.

But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.

"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."

"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.

"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.

"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.

"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.

As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.

"Mom?" Dean whispers.

"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We love you."

"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.

“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.

“Sure.”

“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.

What is happening?

*********************************************

When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.

“Dean!”

“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.

“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."

The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.

"Y/n?"

"Mhmm."

"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.

"I love you too."

He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.

But then it's all gone.

*********************************************

"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"

"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.

His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.

"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."

"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"

You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”

"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.

"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."

Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.

She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.

“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.

He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.

“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”

The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-

Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.

“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.

“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."

“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.

Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.

Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.

“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.

Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.

“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.

“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dean-“

“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.

You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”

And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.

He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.

“Dean?”

He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.

“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”

Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.

I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?

Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.

“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.

You look down at your feet.  “If I say it you can’t laugh.”

“I won’t.”

“Dean, I’m serious.”

“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.

Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.

“It was us.”

“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.

“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.” 

Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“

You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“

Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”

Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.

“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.

You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”

“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.

“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.

Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.

“No I won’t.” He whispers.

“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.

Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.

Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.

But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.

*********************************************

A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.

Finally, he can't take it anymore.

Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.

He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.

"Hmm." You inhale softly.

"Y/n." Dean whispers.

He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“

Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.

“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.

Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”

“How did you know?”

“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"

“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“

“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.

“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.

“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"

“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”

“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.

“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips  mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real.  It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.

But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“

Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.

“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”

“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.

Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”

But just as he leans to kiss you again-

“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”

“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.

“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”

“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.

“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”

“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.

“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.

*********************************************

Thank you so much for reading!

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Twenty

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 17.2k

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PLEASE SEE ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT FUTURE UPDATES HERE

Hello!!! Long-awaited 20 is here!! Honestly this is the longest I've stuck with a fic so I am very honored and lucky to have so many readers willing to wait and enjoy Trouvaille. You all mean the world to me! While Trouvaille will be going on a short hiatus, I will be working on drabbles for the series, so feel free to shoot me some ideas in the meantime. That said, my new fic "Sanctity" will be out in time for fall, and I'm pumped to work on something new and different.

About 20- of course we have the angst, but there are lots of tender moments and humor to patch that up. We have a confession in this update, too, and I hope you all enjoy that scene. It has been highly anticipated 💜 Love to you all and please enjoy (and thank you!! again for all your support!)

Previous Chapter

Silence rang out as Y/N watched Harold Bass’ figure retreat down her porch steps though the stained glass, her heart thundering in her chest painfully and the walls closing in. Was it truly possible that her hybrids could be taken away by such a man? Did a deposit he made on them months ago really hold weight in court? She couldn’t even make a motion to grapple for her phone in her pocket to call Ben in a panic, her breath coming out in uneven pants. 

“A million dollars for seven of us,” Jeongguk broke the stillness, his voice taking on a cold and distant quality that she hadn’t heard from him in months. “Kind of an offer you can’t refuse, honestly, Y/N.”

Flinching like she was shot, Y/N spun around to stare at his stony expression, tears immediately gathering in her eyes. Everything hurt, the idea of her boys getting shipped off to their demise, Jeongguk’s dig, and the way Namjoon couldn’t even look at her. Tears slipping down her cheeks, her elk hybrid’s demeanor shifted slightly, surprise flashing in his eyes. 

“How… how could you say that to me?” Y/N asked quietly, devastated. With all the progress she thought she made with Jeongguk and Namjoon, she couldn’t understand those reactions. Jeongguk blinked, all of the iciness melting from the wall he put up, Namjoon stiffening when he scented her bitter tears. “How could you t-think that I’d ever? Why would you think…”

Voice cracking when she spoke, an involuntary sob wracked through her. 

“Shit…” Jeongguk hissed, regretful. Y/N was too busy miserably staring at the floor with tears pouring from her lash line to notice him stepping forward. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Jeongguk’s palm cradled the back of her bowed head, his tattooed fingers sliding through the strands of her hair as he coaxed her into an embrace, her cheek squished against his chest. Pausing, she was stunned when his heavy forearm wrapped around her lower back and drew her even closer. Sniffing, her tears were flowing for a different reason now, her arms hanging limply by her sides as Jeongguk held her. 

“That was stupid, I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry, doll,” Jeongguk rested his chin on the top of her head, Y/N curling her fingers into the front of his tee shirt at the new, tender pet name he offered her. Curiously, her vision still watery, she peered at Namjoon looming over them close by, his fluffy ears sideways and eyebrows knit together. Concerned. 

“It’s– it’s okay, as long as you really b-believe I’d never,” Y/N swallowed, throat raw. “I’d never let him take you from me. Not for anything! No amount of money or threatening lawsuits, we’re a family. Tell me you believe that, please.”

Jeongguk shushed her, his hand sliding from her hair to around her shoulders, squeezing firmly, the action a non-verbal response. Still looking at Namjoon, the wolf hybrid was all soft edges after hearing how Y/N resolutely stated that she thought of them as family. 

“I believe you,” Jeongguk murmured, giving her one last pat on her shoulder before releasing her, his shirt pulling out of her sweaty fists. “Don’t cry anymore.”

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled, cheeks flaming. Namjoon growled, Y/N glancing at him nervously, gasping when he was inches from her face. “Joon–”

Namjoon cupped one of her cheeks– still damp– and lowered his face to hers, Y/N’s breath catching in her throat. Reflexively, her eyelids dropped shut when his warm breath washed over the side of her face, and when his full lips pressed against her temple resolutely, her eyes flew back open. Namjoon had never kissed her, and sure, she had brushed one against his cheek before, but he was more than used to her being the more affectionate one in the dynamic. Her tears dried up immediately, Namjoon’s long fingers caressing beneath her jaw. 

“Oh,” was all she could breathe, his lips on her skin warm and supple, and the gesture seemed calculated and sure. 

“Y/N, your friend, Ben. He’d be able to help us with this, right?” Namjoon stretched back up to his full height, smoothing her hair that Jeongguk’s fingers had just mussed back into place gently. 

“Y-yes. I’ll call him… he’ll do everything he can. He’s taken on cases involving hybrids before,” Y/N finally shook off her surprise and dismay, reaching for one of Namjoon’s hands and one of Jeongguk’s, too, holding on tight. Then, there was thundering footsteps smacking against the wooden floorboards.

“What happened?” Yoongi was flying down the stairs, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the two hybrids hiding Y/N from his view. The leopard hybrid walked into the heavy scent of Y/N’s fear and despair as soon as he opened the door to the music room, and his fight or flight kicked in. At that moment, he wanted to fight. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi, even though he was smaller than the two hybrids shielding her from his view, shouldered past them with urgency, Jeongguk stumbling back a few feet due to the force of Yoongi’s shove. If she wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion, she would have giggled at the look of astonishment on Jeongguk’s face. There was a deep crease between Yoongi’s eyebrows as he grit his teeth at the tear tracks on her cheeks, and Y/N could practically see steam coming out of his ears. 

“Did you two say something to her?” Yoongi’s voice was dangerously low, the words spat out between his teeth. Oh, he was furious. 

Quickly, Y/N shook her head, grabbing Yoongi’s wrist before he could lunge at Jeongguk. Posture coiled, he looked down at her, everything about him positively feline and predatory. 

“No, angel, they didn’t do anything! Um, let me explain… how do I..”

“We had an uninvited guest,” Jeongguk recovered from being shoved, rubbing his shoulder where Yoongi barreled into. 

“Who?”

“The motherfucker that wanted to adopt us before Y/N. The one that probably would have killed us. He found the house somehow,” Jeongguk grimaced, Yoongi’s tail going ramrod straight in shock. “Apparently he was the spam caller, he wants to buy us all off of Y/N.”

A pause, Yoongi’s eyes turning into slits as he tried to determine whether or not Jeongguk was telling the truth, before the leopard hybrid scoffed sharply. 

“That’s ridiculous. We’ve been legally adopted, he can’t do that. Only if he has proof of some kind of abuse Y/N has put us through or–”

“A legally binding document,” Namjoon finished for Yoongi, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Right, which doesn’t exist. Y/N got to us before he did. Why does this guy think he has any kind of claim to stake over us? After all these months?”

“I don’t know, he’s a hedge fund douchebag. He said he made a deposit on us and is actually willing to take Y/N to fucking court,” Jeongguk rubbed his temples, trying to wrap his head around the situation. 

Sure, Y/N’s friend Ben was a very successful lawyer, but with people like Harold Bass and their never-ending supply of money and privilege, the elk hybrid was worried. Yoongi turned a touch green, Y/N able to feel his pulse racing through the grip she had on his wrist. 

“Wait, what’s going on?” Hoseok jogged into the foyer, a layer of sweat coating his golden skin. He had been gone for a few hours to run around the neighborhood, and must have come into the house from the back door. “What are you guys talking about, court? Jesus, you all reek of doom.”

Hoseok’s upturned nose twitched, his russet ears flattening against his head when he saw Y/N’s lower lip begin to quiver. Jeongguk cleared his throat and repeated what he told Yoongi minutes prior, Hoseok’s constant tail wagging going completely still. 

“What the fuck?” Hoseok breathed, staring at Y/N with alarm. “He must have gotten our address from Gerry. That’s the only way he could have found us… hold on.” Something dawned on him, remembering something from his run when he turned down the street they lived on. 

“When I was heading back, not even fifteen minutes ago. Fancy car was driving by, but slowed down when I was passing. The rear window rolled down and this dude started saying some creepy-ass shit to me. He had a gold tooth. Stuff like that happens to me every once in a while, so I just blew him off and kept running. Was that him?” 

Horror washed over Y/N. What if Harold Bass attempted to abduct Hoseok? Bile rising in her throat, she released Yoongi’s wrist and reached for her fox hybrid, palms settling on the slick skin of his biceps. 

“He just talked to you? He didn’t get out of the car or try to touch you, did he? What did he say?” Y/N rapid-fired, scanning his entire body for any sign of something wrong. 

“No, he didn’t get out of the car, I ran away before he could. I’m fine, darling,” Hoseok’s mouth flattened into a line, patting the back of one of her hands. “I didn’t really catch much of what he was saying. The usual, for guys like him. Calling me an ‘animal’, something about how I’d be a tricky one to ‘catch’ or whatever. Probably referring to sport hunting, now that I know who he is.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Y/N’s voice was faint, blood draining from her face. Urgently, she barrelled to the powder room off of the foyer, her knees slamming against the tile floor when the contents of her breakfast made a second appearance in the toilet bowl. 

As she was heaving, she felt someone gather up her hair in their fist, a free hand gently rubbing her back. Crying again, this time because of the way nausea was curling in her gut, she heard the tap running and the sounds of a washcloth being rung out. Once there was nothing left for her to heave up, she shakily flushed the toilet, sitting back on her heels. 

“Here,” a damp cloth was placed in front of her face, Y/N gawking at the fabric blankly. A rough sigh came from the hybrid holding it, bending to kneel beside Y/N. “It’s alright, doll.”

Jeongguk used a thumb and a forefinger to pinch her chin, angling her face towards him, a concentrated line making up his mouth when he used the cool cloth to dab around her face. Simply staring at him, attempting to catch her breath, she felt the elk hybrid swipe the cold sweat from her brow before he mopped up the saliva around her lips. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Yoongi and Hoseok lingering by the bathroom door, both of them displaying animalistic anxiety with the movements of their tails and positioning of their ears. 

“Sorry,” Y/N squeaked, feeling like she had made their nerves worse by getting physically sick on them. She found a spare bottle of mouthwash under the sink, taking a pause to rinse out her mouth. “Sometimes that happens when I’m really anxious. Thanks, Jeongguk.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Hoseok answered for Jeongguk, watching the elk hybrid toss the washcloth in the hamper and offering his hand to Y/N in order to help her to her feet. Limbs trembling, she let Hoseok pull her up, an arm around her waist to keep her upright. “We’ll figure this out, darling. Don’t you worry.”

“Where did Joon go?” Y/N’s throat was scratchy, noticing his absence when Hoseok led her back into the hall. She watched Yoongi march towards the direction of her bedroom with purpose, her fox hybrid herding Y/N close behind him. 

“He went to deliver the news to the others outside. Jimin and Seokjin were in the garden and I think Taehyung was chopping firewood,” Yoongi grunted, rummaging through Y/N’s dresser determinedly. “Hoseok, can you make her some tea?”

Hoseok whistled, squeezing Y/N’s waist and leaving her in her bedroom alone with Yoongi. Holding onto the wall, she eyed her leopard hybrid warily, having a good idea what he was thinking about. Yoongi wasn’t the type to be afraid of things; he’d watch horror movies with Y/N, unflinchingly carry spiders outside, and chop vegetables with a cleaver while maintaining eye contact with whoever was talking to him. But Y/N knew there was one thing that scared him to death: the possibility of being separated from her. 

“Yoongi, I’m going to call Ben. I want to get ahead of this. Ben might have a way to get this guy out of our life before we even see a courthouse,” Y/N announced firmly, reaching for her phone on her nightstand. 

“Come here,” Yoongi’s voice was barely above a whisper, Y/N turning to look at him curiously. He stood close, and stacked a soft pair of sweatpants and a slouchy tank top on her bed, his familiar purrs filling the room when she obeyed his request. “Let’s get you changed, baby. Wait for Namjoon to tell the other three what happened before you talk to Ben.”

Y/N nodded, distractedly popping the button of her jeans open. Yoongi helped her out of them, his eyes not darkening like they usually did when he saw her in such a state of undress, Y/N shivering when his cool fingertips slid beneath her sweater. Gingerly, he peeled the garment off of her, and Y/N let him dress her like a Barbie doll– she suspected he was deeply focusing on the task to make himself feel better. Once he tied the strings of her sweatpants, Y/N took his face in her palms. 

“No one's gonna take you from me, you got that?” Y/N brushed her thumbs over his cheekbones, his hazel eyes glittering. Long hair falling forward as he leaned down, Yoongi kissed her lower lip softly, his hands stroking up the length of her spine. 

 “I know you won’t go down without a fight, baby,” Yoongi murmured, pulling her in for a hug and resting his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Y/N admitted, pressing her cheek over Yoongi’s heart so the steady beating would calm her. “I love you all too much to not give that motherfucker the fight of his life.”

Y/N expected Yoongi to snort at her comment, but he didn’t. If anything, he paused, pulling away from her slightly. Confused, she accepted her phone from him, his free hand clasped with hers. 

“We should put Ben on speaker in the living room. He might have some advice for all of us,” Yoongi began to escort her to the parlor, his tail curling around the back of her leg securely. 

Silently agreeing, she searched for Ben in her contacts, catching a whiff of a familiar cologne as they walked through the hallway. Sandalwood– Taehyung. Namjoon must have swallowed some pride to drag him back into the house. Biting her lip, she wondered how he took the news, wondering if that would be the straw that broke his back. As if sensing her thoughts, Yoongi tightened his grip on her hand, perhaps encouragingly. Everyone was standing around in the living room, Seokjin looking like he was about to pass away and Jimin’s leg bouncing nervously. Without a word, Y/N dialed the number, placing the phone on the coffee table gravely. 

“Y/N! How are you, honey?”

“I’ve been better,” Y/N glanced at Taehyung, who was staring out into the backyard, the Kodiak hybrid unseeing, like he was neither here nor there. “Something happened, I need your help.”

The first thing Ben suggested was filing a temporary restraining order against Harold Bass, which he was promptly in the process of taking care of for her. Ben told her that the fact that the man took it upon himself to harass her with phone calls, show up at their house, and make indirect threats to Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok was plenty of evidence to file the order. Y/N sent screenshots of the amount of times Harold tried to call her. If they did end up at the courthouse, Ben said he could get a recording of the time Y/N had actually picked up the phone and talked to Harold and use that in her defense. 

Ben’s calm tone and reassuring words did wonders to ease not only her mind, but seemed to get her boys to relax somewhat. The lawyer sounded confident that even if Harold Bass managed to take them to court, he wouldn’t be able to take the boys from her with a mere deposit slip, considering how long the hybrids had already legally been under her care. Ben told her to take things easy for the following days, perhaps staying close to or inside of their home, advising Hoseok to pause his runs around the neighborhood and making sure that their house alarms were working. 

In the days that followed, Y/N and the boys stuck closely together. Thankfully it was the weekend, so trips to the rec center were unnecessary, and Y/N even arranged for groceries to be delivered to the house. The backyard was fenced in as well, so when the boys got a little itchy to stretch their legs and be outside, they could do so freely. Y/N felt horrible that they weren’t able to do things that they normally did during the weekends; like go into the city for dinner, see a movie, or shop in the town square. If any of them were bummed out about it, none of them let it show. 

Jeongguk took it upon himself to set up Pentagon-level security in the house, ordering Ring cameras, setting up lights that would automatically turn on if anyone approached the entrances inside, and monitored the cameras in the downstairs office like the Secret Service. He hadn’t so much as mentioned anything paranormal related since Harold Bass turned up on their porch. 

Namjoon, too, had upped the intensity with security. He would linger by all the doors for hours, looking out the windows, making sure things were locked up tight. Y/N caught him in the office one day, his teeth bared, asking Jeongguk to order more locks to install on the front and back doors. 

As for her two feline hybrids, there was hardly a moment where one of them wasn't glued to her side. Truthfully, her alone time (not that she necessarily craved it) was reserved for when she needed to use the bathroom or bathe. Every night Seokjin and Yoongi would curl around either side of her body, not being able to bear sleeping without her until Harold Bass was out of their lives for good. 

It was only when Ben called her Saturday afternoon to tell her the temporary restraining order had gone through that everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. One of the positive things that came with the recent bumps in the road was Taehyung being around more often. He started to make an appearance during their nightly movies, and didn’t skip meals anymore. While he hardly spoke unless it was absolutely necessary, Y/N counted his presence as a silver lining. 

However, that same Saturday evening was when Y/N had asked Laura to come over and assess the situation with Taehyung as a third party, followed by watching her son Kai for a few hours while she and her husband went out for dinner and a movie. Paired with the good news of the restraining order, Y/N actually grinned when she swung the front door open to reveal one of her best friends, holding her son on one hip and balancing a diaper bag on the other. Behind her, Y/N could see Tyler– Laura’s husband– lugging some kind of play mat up the porch steps. 

“Is this your way of asking me if I can watch him for the weekend while you two go to Sandals or something?” Y/N made grabby hands for Kai, a sweet toddler with dark coily curls similar to his Auntie Alice’s. 

Laura snorted, passing him over easily, Y/N cooing and nestling the boy on her hip. Kai sleepily rested his rounded cheek into the crook of Y/N’s neck while she ushered his parents inside, Jimin appearing from his bedroom to take the diaper bag from Laura. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were the best with children out of all of her hybrids. It was likely Jimin had such a way with them considering his upbringing on the ranch with his own family. Hoseok loved to goof off, and kids being around was the perfect excuse to be wacky. 

As for Seokjin, kids were drawn to him like a magnet. Probably because he was so sweet, gentle, and shy. Y/N had noticed a frequent expression of longing whenever she and Seokjin were in a store together and they encountered a baby in a stroller. She hadn’t explicitly talked to Seokjin about it, but she was pretty sure he wanted kids in the future. The thought of a tiny version of her and Seokjin, maybe one with his ears, nearly made her trip into the living room with Kai still in her arms. 

“Aw, look how big he’s getting!” Hoseok exclaimed in a silly voice, wiggling his fingers against Kai’s tummy when Y/N came into the parlor. 

Not everyone was present, Namjoon and Jeongguk were in the van doing a little research on the hotel they were to investigate in the near future, and Yoongi was stress-baking in the kitchen like he had been doing for the past several days. Y/N had never eaten so many cookies in her entire life. 

“Can you believe it? He’ll be in preschool before we know it,” Laura was helping Tyler roll out the mat on the floor, one with shapes, colors, and animals labeled on it. 

“Momma, a fox! He has ears,” Kai pointed a chubby index finger at Hoseok’s head, his triangular appendages twitching when the child’s attention were on them fully. 

“That’s right, honey. That’s Hoseok, Auntie Y/N’s friend,” Laura took Tyler’s hand to help her up, Hoseok making an odd chirping sound when his name was called. “He’s a fox hybrid. Look over here, see who’s helping daddy? That’s Jimin, he’s a coyote hybrid.”

It had been so long since Y/N had seen Kai, she didn’t realize how much his vocabulary had expanded. He was wiggling in Y/N’s grip, so she gently lowered him to the ground, where he hurried over to Jimin placing some of the child’s toys on the mat. Jimin didn’t even flinch when Kai accidentally tread over the coyote hybrid’s sandy tail, which had Y/N cringing– if she knew anything about the sensitivity of hybrid tails, she knew that that must have hurt like a bastard. 

“Hello Seokjin! Taehyung, you too! I haven’t seen any of you since Taehyung’s birthday party in December,” Laura sat on the couch beside Y/N, taking stock of how many of the hybrids were in the room. Taehyung lingered in his usual spot at the back of the room, the settee by the window overlooking the backyard, while Seokjin was glued to Y/N’s other side on the couch, naturally. “So, how have things been? I heard about… that unsavory man. Ben will kick his butt though.”

“I have no doubt about that, I’ve seen him demolish Hoseok with sarcastic banter. He must be an amazing lawyer,” Jimin pointed out cheerfully. The coyote hybrid had attempted to be upbeat ever since finding out about Harold Bass, which Y/N appreciated. “That aside, next time you’re here during the day, we can show you two and Kai the garden and the stable. Do you think he’d like to meet the horses?”

“Oh, absolutely. He loves animals and hybrids. Can’t you tell how excited he is to be around you? And little Daisy has become one of his best friends,” Laura leaned back, subtly glancing at Taehyung behind her shoulder. Y/N was glad he hadn’t snuck from the room already, though with hybrid perceptivity, he could definitely tell Laura was no threat to him. “Kai, gentle! Remember what I told you about their ears?”

Indeed, Kai was climbing on one of Jimin’s thighs as the hybrid sat on the floor, his toddler-sized fists reaching for Jimin’s ears that were flopping forward cutely. 

“It’s okay, I’ve had my share of young ones on the ranch tug at my ears. I’m used to it,” Jimin shrugged, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, letting Kai scratch behind his ears easily. “Are you two going out?”

“Ah, yes. I made reservations for us at a place near the theater in town. We’re going to catch a movie after. Laur, I’ll start the car while you say goodbye?” Tyler gave Kai a hair ruffle, waving good-naturedly to everyone in the room. “Thanks for watching him, we really appreciate it!”

There was a squawk coming from Hoseok on the leather recliner when Kai chose to amble towards Seokjin rather than the fox hybrid gesturing wildly, Y/N giggling at Hoseok’s faux-devastated expression. 

“Up!” Kai lifted his arms in the air, staring at Seokjin determinedly with his wide chocolate brown eyes. “Cat!”

Seokjin froze from beside Y/N, who was trying her very best not to laugh at her jaguar hybrid, who looked like he didn’t know whether to shit or go blind. 

“It’s okay, Seokjin, you can pick him up,” Laura encouraged, Seokjin tentatively leaning forward, his forearms flexing when he gingerly lifted the child into the air, Kai curling into his lap and the crook of his elbow immediately. “He just likes to snuggle. It’s his nap time right about now, I’ll scoot as soon as his eyes get heavy.”

Y/N had a hard time focusing on anything but Kai nestled in Seokjin’s arms. Subconsciously, Seokjin’s sleek black tail curled around the boy’s lap protectively, soothing purrs vibrating from his chest. The tender expression on Seokjin’s face, one that Y/N was more than used to by now, had her melting into the velvet fabric of the couch. 

“Aw, Jinnie, he likes you, cat,” Hoseok teased, recovering from Kai not choosing him to take his late afternoon nap on. “You’d make a decent dad, huh?”

Seokjin’s purrs grew louder, Y/N chewing on her lip and not missing the very pointed look Seokjin gave her; feline sunset eyes burning– a look that had her heart swelling and something warm blooming in her gut.

“Yeah, I don’t think he knows the word ‘jaguar’ quite yet,” Laura stood and stretched her legs, turning her keen eyes onto Taehyung awkwardly perched on his settee with an old camera to fiddle with, who hadn’t made a peep yet, effectively distracting Y/N. “How's the photography club going, Taehyung? Y/N tells me you’re amazing!”

“O-oh. I don’t know about that… it’s fun, though…” Taehyung couldn’t maintain eye-contact with Laura for more than a few seconds, pulling his threadbare beanie down further over his forehead, but Y/N was relieved that he responded at all. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Laura waved him off with a smile, adjusting her scarf. Y/N texted Laura earlier to tell her she decided to put a hold on her doing conflict resolution at that particular moment. Y/N didn’t think it would be wise to stress Taehyung out even more on top of the legal issues they were caught in the middle of. Besides, with Taehyung being around her more often, especially since his fuckup forgetting Hoseok and Yoongi at the rec center, Y/N had a feeling he was starting to come around again. 

“Okay, I’m going to try and sneak off. He’s a pretty heavy sleeper, so feel free to put on movies or whatever! I should be back here no later than 10,” Laura murmured quietly, Kai’s eyes shut and his small body slumped onto Seokjin’s chest, the jaguar hybrid soothingly rubbing circles on the kid’s back. 

“Wait, Laura,” a voice came from the kitchen, and Yoongi emerged with a large tupperware and was covered in flour and caramel. “Here, take these for later. I have like four more batches on the way.”

“Angel, you’re gonna give us all diabetes. Please relax, take a shower and turn the oven off,” Y/N sighed, getting up to untie the frilly apron Yoongi had been wearing since the sun rose that morning. 

“Don’t listen to her. If you ever start selling these, let me know,” Laura countered, a cookie sticking out of her mouth as she headed towards the front door, her collarbone-length braids swishing as she walked. “See you all soon, have a nice night in!”

Laura shut the front door behind her, and promptly, the new security system chimed as it armed the house, and Namjoon appeared out of nowhere in the foyer to turn the three separate locks with a grunt. 

“Hey Bug, why don’t you come and watch a movie with us? I can tell you’ve been reading all day, your eyes are super watery,” Y/N was in the middle of pushing Yoongi towards the stairs, cringing at the tacky caramel that was clinging to the ends of his long locks. “Yoongi, please go up and shower. If this caramel dries in your hair and I have to cut it I’ll weep for two weeks.”

Mumbling, Yoongi gave her a sugar-sticky kiss on the back of her hand, trudging up the stairs with his tail wrapped around one of his legs– something he did when he was exhausted. Y/N predicted he’d probably fall asleep in his towel on his bed, leaving her to check on and dress him before she retired himself. 

“Don’t you get to pick the movie tonight?” Jeongguk emerged from the kitchen with a cookie in his hand while he addressed Namjoon, crumbs collecting in the corners of his mouth. 

“Ah. I might have to push your night to tomorrow, Joon. Kai, Laura’s son is here, I’m watching him for the night… we should probably put on some kind of cartoon movie,” Y/N passed her palm over Namjoon’s upper arm, the wolf hybrid pushing his blue-light glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know you wanted to watch Blue Velvet tonight. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“I don’t mind, Y/N. I’m probably too tired to understand anything that requires more brain power than Beauty and the Beast,” Namjoon blinked languidly, Y/N noticing the pen ink covering his fingertips. “At least research took my mind off things.”

“Well that’s good! I’d love to see what you’ve found out so far, in the morning over coffee, how does that sound?” Y/N felt the two hybrids follow her back into the living room, Namjoon double-checking the locks on the front door again. 

“I take it that paranormal topics are off-limits while the kid is here,” Jeongguk had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black sweats, so close behind her that his caramel-scented breath wafted over the sensitive skin of her neck.

“I wouldn’t say that. He’s currently asleep on Seokjin’s lap. Just keep it down and if he wakes up, change the subject,” Y/N pointed at Seokjin, who was still in the exact spot she left him in, Kai drooling on his white tee shirt. 

“Well, can I drink? It’s Saturday night, and he’s got seven other babysitters,” Jeongguk lifting a pierced brow and nodding towards the bar cart in the corner of the room. 

“Go nuts. I mean, don’t get whacked or anything. I won’t ask you to play pat-a-cake with him when he wakes up, like you said, he’s got seven other babysitters.”

Grumbling, Jeongguk stalked by Seokjin and Kai, sifting through the bottles of liquor on the cart for his favorite gin. Jimin, while Jeongguk’s back was turned, made a dramatic look of great distaste. The coyote hybrid didn’t approve of drinking around children, even if they were asleep. 

“Let’s go with what you mentioned earlier, Joonie. I think I have Beauty and the Beast in my library somewhere…” Y/N slowly lowered herself beside Seokjin, hoping she wouldn’t jolt Kai awake, Namjoon clumsily copying her movements to land on her free side.

Because Namjoon was such a clutz, it wasn’t often that he was able to snag a spot beside her– he was lucky that Yoongi was still showering shortening off of his body. If Namjoon was uncomfortable that his right arm was pressed firmly against her left and his large frame crammed against the armrest, his expression gave away nothing.

Halfway through the movie, Y/N slightly dozing off on Seokjin’s shoulder, she cracked an eye open to the sound of a shutter going off. Taehyung was on one knee, snapping a picture of Kai on Seokjin’s lap, Y/N realizing that the child had one hand wrapped around Seokjin’s tail, and the other around her pointer finger. Smiling lazily, she was too comfortable to say anything, so she let Taehyung take pictures until he settled back down on the floor to watch the rest of the movie. 

When Laura returned a few hours later, Kai stacking blocks on his mat with Jimin, her cheeks were rosy and several of the hybrids were reluctant to give the toddler back, mainly Jimin and Seokjin.  

“Hmm, maybe I’ll have to drop him off here more often,” Laura held Kai in her arms, the boy’s eyes starting to fill when Jimin began to wave goodbye. 

“We’ll watch him whenever you need!” Seokjin blurted instantly, his cheeks turning pink when he realized how loudly he spoke. Laura simply brightened up, turning to her husband. 

“Maybe we can start having our bi-weekly dates again, if that’s the case,” Laura snickered, Kai calling out for Jimin and ‘Cat’. He wasn’t able to precisely pronounce Seokjin’s name yet, which Hoseok teased him for the entire night. “Alright, it’s past his bedtime. Thanks again, Y/N. I’m buying all of you dinner next time I see you, okay?”

“Night Laura, drive safe,” Y/N waved, choking down a smirk when Namjoon closed the door tightly, the three deadbolts sliding into place smoothly. “Thanks for being good sports tonight, guys!”

“It was fun. He’s a cute kid,” Hoseok was leaning against the door to the basement, where his room was. “I think he was kinda spooked by Goth Bambi, though.”

“The fuck did you just say? I know your dumbass isn’t referring to me,” Jeongguk barked, his tapered ears fluttering furiously. That time, Y/N couldn’t bite back her smirk. “You better lock yourself in your foxhole, motherfucker.”

Hoseok whistled his signature tune, not intimidated in the slightest, quick on his feet to do just that before Jeongguk could even take a step forward. 

“You’re laughing? You’re really laughing. I wiped vomit off your face, kiddo,” Jeongguk crossed his inked arms over his chest, Y/N screwing her mouth shut and eyeing the tiny bumps that were beginning to grow where his antlers once were. Truly, in a few weeks, he’d look exactly like Goth Bambi. 

“That’s good. I’m changing your contact info to that,” Y/N wiped a tear from her eye, pulling her phone from her pocket. 

“I’m blocking your ass,” Jeongguk threatened, sticking his pierced tongue right back out at her when she flashed hers at him first. 

“No you won’t. Who else will watch those Youtube videos about shadow people if not me?” Y/N countered, dodging a flick to her forehead. “It’s late, munchkins. I’m gonna check on Yoongi and head into bed myself. Let’s do something fun tomorrow, since the restraining order is in place.”

“That would be nice, I heard there’s a farmer’s market in the town square in the morning. We should go, Y/N, see if they have potted plants that you wanted for the patio,” Jimin suggested, rubbing his eyes tiredly but his tail still swishing contentedly. 

“Perfect, let’s do it!” Y/N agreed, watching Taehyung slip up the stairs with a glass of water and his headphones on, Jeongguk not far behind him and still bitching about Hoseok’s comment. “Mm. I’m gonna follow him so I can make sure Yoongi’s doing alright. Night Jimin, Joonie!”

Namjoon nodded, beginning his rounds to make sure all the windows and doors were sealed before slipping into his bedroom, while Jimin wished her sweet dreams as he always did. The only one left in the foyer with her was Seokjin, who clasped a hand over her elbow to escort Y/N up the stairs. 

“Yoongi pass out again? He’s really living up to feline stereotypes,” Seokjin joked, shaking blue black waves out of his eyes and slowing down his pace so Y/N could keep up. 

“Mmm? You nap more than he does, Seokjinnie. On the other hand, he gets sort of narcoleptic after a hot shower,” Y/N teased, gaze lingering on the glittery chain dangling from his earlobe– a new earring she hadn’t seen before, one that nearly brushed his jutting collarbone. 

“I guess that’s true… you should nap with me next time, my pretty girl,” Seokjin’s smile was easy, squeezing her midsection for a goodnight hug. 

“Sure thing,” Y/N hummed, regretfully pulling away. “Get some sleep, honey.”

Seokjin saluted her, slinking into his bedroom, and Y/N was trailing through the winding hallways of the second floor to the west tower bedroom where Yoongi slept. His lights were still on, but there was no sound coming from behind the door, so Y/N tip-toed in as quietly as she could. 

Her psychic skills must have been getting stronger by the day, because her leopard hybrid was starfished on his bed in nothing but a towel, his phone tossed beside him. Rolling her eyes playfully, she retrieved pajamas from his dresser, not exactly keen on waking him up, but not wanting him to wake up with a cold from laying in a wet towel all night. 

“Baby, come on. I’ll tuck you in,” Y/N whispered directly into one of his spotted ears, brushing a kiss over one of his eyebrows. The effect was immediate, a grumbly purr coming from the back of Yoongi’s throat, his eyebrows pulling together under her lips and a veined hand shooting out to grab her hip. “I know you’re awake. I got you pajamas, can you sit up for me?”

“Depends. Do I get a kiss?”

“What are you, Sleeping Beauty?” Y/N rolled her eyes again, though pressed a simple kiss to his lower lip anyways. “There. Sit up, please.”

Yoongi did as he was told, looking at her through sleepy, lidded eyes, his hair still slightly damp. Hoping her gulp wasn’t audible, seeing him in just a towel and a silver chain, Y/N held his soft tee shirt and pulled it over his head, his ears popping up adorably through the neck hole. 

“Uh, here. I’ll turn around,” Y/N muttered, tossing his sweats and boxers on his lap, and as soon as possible she spun to face the wall. Yoongi scoffed incredulously, though Y/N refused to turn around.

“Why bother facing the wall?” Yoongi questioned, the coils in his mattress squeaking as he got up. Y/N shuddered when he tossed the towel at her feet, her skin tingling. “It’s not like you haven’t seen my cock before.”

“Yoongi,” Y/N hissed, face hot as an iron. “Just put your pants on!”

“You sure?” 

“Stop being a pervert,” Y/N covered her eyes with her hands, listening for the sounds of the leopard hybrid stepping into the clothing she picked out. “You decent?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ugh,” Y/N tentatively looked over her shoulder, Yoongi by his nightstand table, plugging in his phone. “Even though you’re a hybrid, sometimes I forget you’re still a man.”

“Can’t help it. Not when my girl is so gorgeous,” Yoongi shrugged, collapsing on his bed. “You sleeping in here?” 

“How do I know you won’t seduce me?” Y/N crossed her arms, tsking. “There’s a few things I wanna do before I go to sleep. Tomorrow night, okay, angel?”

Yoongi humphed, rolling over on his side to face away from her. Chuckling, she shut off his lamp, making sure he was tucked in. Exchanging ‘I love yous’, Y/N left his room, creeping down to her own bedroom. After a quick shower, she lit a candle on her bedside table, settling in for a meditation session to keep her nerves in check before passing out face-down, hopefully dreamlessly. 

Sunday morning, Y/N decided to take Jimin’s advice to check out the early spring farmer’s market in the town square, just so everyone could get some fresh air and scenery. With all eight of them loaded up into the Land Cruiser, the trunk full of reusable bags for produce, and sunny pop music on, the general mood was lighter than it had been in quite some time.

It was almost April, small buds dotting all of the trees around the shops, a clean, floral scent in the air. That morning, she was actually able to have her coffee outside due to how pleasant the temperature was, while Namjoon offered her a thick stack of notes he had taken on the bed and breakfast they were going to investigate– apparently called the George Parkman House. Not having too much time to leaf through the packet the wolf hybrid complied, considering the farmer’s market ended at noon and it would be a miracle to get Hoseok up and ready before then, she elected to discuss specifics with the two of them when they got back. 

With the coming of spring, there were several things to think about, not just a potential lawsuit that was a dark cloud in their lives. Taehyung’s important spring expo was coming up, there was a basketball tournament Yoongi was coaching and participating in, and she’d be spending more time than ever in the backyard garden. Jimin offered to give her more riding lessons, which she couldn’t turn down. Lastly, she had to have a conversation with Seokjin about their upcoming trip to New York, since the date they planned to go was coming up fast. Recalling it from yesterday morning, she gripped her steering wheel tightly and tried to ignore Namjoon side-eyeing her.  

“Pretty, can we talk?” Seokjin appeared timid, his strong eyebrows bunching together. 

“What about?” Y/N put the rake down that she was holding, tending to the herb garden with her jaguar hybrid. In the distance, she could hear Jimin taking one of the horses for a jaunt around the trails, hooves clomping down on the damp grass. 

“Our trip to visit Hannah. I think it should wait, we can reschedule for May or something,” Seokjin scratched behind one of his ears, placing a clump of weeds in the compost bin he dragged over earlier. “Until we sort out this legal situation. Besides…”

“Besides?” Y/N encouraged, leaning into one of his strong shoulders and enjoying the sun on her face. She found the little things kept her spirits up, those days. 

“Um… remember how I said that in April it might be…”

“Oh!” Y/N straightened up, the tips of her ears burning. She hadn’t thought about anything remotely sexual in days, so she had completely forgotten about Seokjin’s apparent upcoming rut. 

“Y-yeah. That. I don’t want to be away from home when it happens, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is, Seokjin. Anything you need or anything I can prepare, let me know,” Y/N held onto his hand seriously, pushing aside bashfulness in order to assure him. 

“Uh. Well, the others. What are we going to do about them? I’m not sure how long it’ll last, and. Hybrids need privacy during their ruts, especially mated ones.”

Y/N paused, eyes going round, soaking in every inch of Seokjin’s gorgeous face. Did he just imply…

“What about that building, there? You think we could stay there?” Seokjin pointed off into the distance with a crooked finger, Y/N’s heart beating out of her chest between the statement he made still sinking in and the way he was speaking so nonchalantly. 

Following the line of his finger when her thoughts were interrupted, she spotted the small guesthouse by the pond, the one she had yet to renovate into the movie room for them to hang out in during the summer months. The rounded building, equipped with a first floor made up of a space to sit, a kitchenette, and a tiny bathroom, the second floor a simple loft, would be a pretty good isolated space away from other ears. It solved Seokjin’s desire to stay home, but have enough privacy. Prior to even considering that guesthouse, she toyed with the idea of getting a hotel room, but she knew Seokjin wouldn’t be keen on that. The guesthouse seemed like the best option. 

“I… I’d need to make a few improvements on it in the next week or so, and clean it out. But I think that’ll work,” Y/N replied quietly, her skin still on fire. Should she bring up the fact that he might have referred to her as his mate? Before she could open her mouth, Seokjin spoke again. 

“Okay, that makes me feel better,” Seokjin’s broad shoulders relaxed down several inches, offering her a broad smile. “Don’t be nervous, pretty. It’s just me.”

“Mmm, I know,” Y/N muttered, his playful remark not doing much to quell her embarrassment. It was like Seokjin had never even looked in the mirror– he was telling her not to be nervous he’d be all over her for several days? “I’ll get it ready this week. I’m taking some time off of work anyways, to make sure Ben settles everything and to prepare for the new case Joon and Jeongguk and I will be tackling in the near future.”

Seokjin placed a silly, loud smooch on the apple of her cheek, returning to his task of weeding around the lavender plants, Y/N willing to place a bet that he had a sly smirk on his face. In retaliation, she reached up to teasingly tickle one of his rounded black ears, a choppy hiss dissolving into a purr at the contact.

Swallowing nervously at the memory, Y/N focused on the daffodils studding the sidewalks of the cute town square she was driving through. Hoseok was whistling to the song ‘Where Is My Mind’, the fox hybrid in shorts– he was one of those guys, as soon as the weather was above 50 degrees, he considered it to be summer. Meanwhile, his best friend next to him was bundled up like there was a blizzard raging outside of the car; Seokjin swaddled in his lilac puffer jacket. Y/N tossed a middle finger into the backseat while Jeongguk was taunting her about her parallel parking skills (it did take her three times to get it right), but once the car was stationary, everyone was eagerly getting out into the sunshine. 

“Which way do we go?” Hoseok was bouncing on the soles of his running sneakers, energy coming off of him in infection waves, one of his arms hooked around Seokjin’s elbow. Seokjin didn’t seem to mind, his nose in the air as he caught the scent of fresh-baked pie in the distance. 

“Just take a right up this block, there’s a grassy field where the tents are set up,” Y/N pointed, helping Jimin take the bags out of the trunks. “You guys can go ahead, just um. Use the buddy system, okay?”

“Does that mean I’m stuck with Mr. Happy?” Yoongi mumbled into Y/N’s ear, glancing at Taehyung, who was taking pictures of the decaying brick of a storefront a few yards away. 

“Well, he likes you the most,” Y/N pointed out, mussing Yoongi’s hair and hoping he’d be a good sport. 

“Alright. This is me making things up to you, when I chewed him out a while ago,” Yoongi trudged away, using two fingers to motion for Taehyung to follow him down the block. Naturally, Namjoon and Jeongguk stuck together, so that made Jimin her buddy. 

“What kind of flowers will last under harsh sun, do you think?” Y/N mused, knowing that Jimin had spent a few months learning about botany ever since he began focusing on the garden and landscaping the backyard. 

“Cacti,” Jimin replied dryly with a twinkle in his yellow eyes, Y/N blinking at his joke. “Kidding, that would look odd. We’re not in Arizona. Asters will look pretty on the patio, don’t you think? They sort of look like purple daisies.”

“Love it. Maybe some petunias, too. They’re my Grandmother’s favorites, she’d love to see them around the house again,” Y/N rounded the corner with Jimin close to her side, his clean lavender scent tickling her nose as a cool breeze rolled by.

As soon as the corner was cleared, they were in a medium-sized, festive green field. Multicolored awnings covering stalls was the first thing she noticed, then children of various heights running around merrily. There was a bearded man with a banjo and a microphone singing in the center of the field, elderly people milling around and haggling prices. Lungs filled with lovely early April air, she hooked a finger in the belt loop of Jimin’s blue jeans, tugging him forward excitedly. With a canine whimper of surprise, he stumbled after her.

Y/N made a beeline for the first stall she saw– one that sold windchimes that made beautiful trilling sounds. Before she could get too carried away, she visually located everyone else; Taehyung and Yoongi were watching the performer, the former taking a photo of the show. Jeongguk and Namjoon had managed to find the only booth that sold crystals and occult oddities, while Hoseok and Seokjin appeared to be making a lap around the field before lingering anywhere in particular.

“Oh, look, Y/N! This one is made from driftwood and seaglass. Since our town is by the ocean, don’t you think this would look nice on the patio?” Jimin pointed to a wind chime hanging from one of the poles of the tent they were under, the seaglass pretty shades of aqua and jade. 

“It’s gorgeous, should we get it?”

“I think so. This one, too, is really nice. Looks old-timey, like our house,” Jimin gestured to another piece with fragile looking cloudy glass.

“That one there I made from recycled glass bottles from the Victorian era. I found the bottles around my property and thought I could repurpose them,” the middle-aged woman who ran the booth explained to them with a proud smile, folding her work-roughened hands on the table in front of her. 

“It’s beautiful. We live in a Victorian, it would look perfect on our front porch,” Y/N ran her finger over the hanging glass pieces to hear how it sounded: clear and pure. “Can we take both, please?”

“I’ll wrap them up while you two enjoy the other booths, thank you!” The woman began taking the two wind chimes down, Y/N reaching for Jimin’s calloused hand so they could continue taking in the sights.

“Did you notice Namjoon has already picked up a mini cherry pie?” Jimin snorted, Y/N able to easily find Namjoon in the throngs of people because of his taller-than-average height. 

Namjoon must have heard his name across the field, because his head whipped around, a pie in his hand and jam smeared over his thick lips. Shushing Jimin’s giggles while trying to suppress her own, she dragged the coyote hybrid to the next few stalls. She picked up knicknacks here and there, as well as some veggies to cook up for dinner.

The last booth they visited before sitting on the grass to enjoy some of the folk performance was filled with the kind of potted plants they were looking for. The farmer informed them that the flowers could be delivered to their home, which saved Jimin from having to haul them back to the SUV.

“He has such a nice voice,” Jimin commented, a note of jealousy coloring his tone. Y/N nudged him with her shoulder, crossing her legs and feeling grass tickle her bare ankles.

“I’m sure your voice is nicer, Jimin. I mean, your speaking voice is melodic and pretty, why wouldn’t it be?” Y/N cocked her head, wondering if he ever sang around a campfire with his friends on the ranch or if she was stereotyping ranchers.

“You flatter me,” Jimin whispered into her ear, the hybrid’s face peach pink. “I guess I can carry a tune.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime, huh? Yoongi can accompany you,” Y/N grinned, Jimin raking his fingers through his blonde hair. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. Even if I am serious.”

Moments blended into one another, her and Jimin enjoying a container of cut fruit together, his bushy tail occasionally batting her lower back when he’d hear new noises like a child squealing or cars passing by. Y/N took a moment to study Jimin’s side profile while he was occupied by the show. 

Jimin’s easygoing nature set her at ease completely. There was something about feeling so safe around him, in a different way from Namjoon. Namjoon was intense, territorial, and physically protective, which was certainly comforting to have, particularly in dangerous situations. However, Jimin was more quietly protective, which was due to his abundance of empathy. If one needed to be comforted, Jimin knew exactly how to do it.

“Hey, Jimin,” Y/N tugged on his cargo jacket sleeve, capturing his attention with a curious flop to his ear. “Thank you for keeping me sane these past few days. For staying so upbeat. Don’t think it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me. It’s okay to be nervous about everything in front of me, too, you don’t have to hide your feelings.”

Jimin stared at her with his alarmingly vibrant eyes, processing her words. Usually, Jimin was easy to read, but not at that moment. Sighing with a tiny smile, he picked up one of Y/N’s hands, patting the back of it.

“My dad always told me that worrying about something before it happens is to suffer twice. I know we’re in capable hands with Ben, and I know that you’ll do anything in your power to keep us out of harm’s way, Y/N. I’m not worried because I know we aren’t going anywhere. I can feel it. As for staying ‘upbeat’...”

Jimin’s gaze shifted around the farmer’s market, locating each of the hybrids he lived with, occupied with looking at various wares of their choosing. Free.

“All we ever wanna do is make you smile, Y/N. Make you as happy as you’ve made us.”

“Hey, you. What are you thinking about that has you in a catatonic state?” Jeongguk was annoyingly snapping his fingers in Y/N’s face, Y/N catching one of his fingers in her grasp with narrowed eyes. A zodiac symbol was tattooed on one of the knuckles. 

“Yoongi’s chili,” Y/N fibbed, when actually she had Jimin’s voice bouncing around in her skull. She was still trying to dissect the moment shared with him– was the tenderness in his voice something she made up, or did Jimin sound… lovestruck? “Why do you have this sign tattooed on your knuckle? You’re a Virgo.”

“I have all of the zodiac signs somewhere on my hands or arms. They all have their uses,” Jeongguk leaned back in his seat, kicking his feet up on the van’s breakfast table. “When do you think we can get started on this investigation?”

“As soon as I get an update from Ben about you-know-what, I’ll take that as a green light to focus on this fully,” Y/N gestured to the packet of handwritten notes Namjoon gave her. Speaking of the devil, he rested his hip against the kitchenette counter, waiting patiently to start a productive conversation about the building and its history. “Joonie, wanna give me a run-down on the bed and breakfast’s past?”

Straightening out importantly, Namjoon rolled up the sleeves to his thin button down. 

“The property is on Beacon Hill in Boston, facing the Boston Common. It belonged to a member of an elite class at the time– a Boston Brahmin– by the name of George Parkman, hence the name of the building. He was a successful surgeon that graduated from Harvard, and used his skills around Massachusetts during the War of 1812.

But, the guy ended up being murdered. He went missing one afternoon while he was collecting debts in 1849. A Harvard professor by the name of John White Webster killed Parkman in a lab, dismembered the body, and incinerated the body in a furnace. What’s interesting about the trial, however, is that it was the first trial to use dental records and forensics to make a conviction.”

“Jesus,” Y/N gritted her teeth at the gruesome details, but was also very attracted to Namjoon’s intelligence. “So Parkman wasn’t murdered in his home, but in a lab at Harvard?”

“Yeah, but apparently the poor bastard haunts his old house. Spirits work in mysterious ways. To be murdered so brutally and abruptly, sometimes human spirits don’t even know they’re dead. That could be the case, here,” Jeongguk picked his nails, lip ring sucked into his mouth.

“So, you’re not getting any demonic vibes?” Namjoon drawled sarcastically, his sharpened canines flashing. 

“Well, no. Not from what we’ve gathered so far. This could be just a simple haunting, maybe Parkman’s just agitated and confused as to why there are so many random people in his house, if he doesn’t know he’s dead yet. Judy’s email mentioned the manager brought in a quack group of investigators that stirred shit up. They probably instigated Parkman into being even angrier, which caused the uptick in activity. Just my guess, though. I’d have to physically be there to feel it out,” Jeongguk responded calmly, itching around his new antlers beginning to grow. 

“Didn’t you instigate at the Sanders’?” Namjoon probed further, Jeongguk rolling his eyes to the sky. 

“That was different, that was a demonic haunting. Provoking human spirits is just sad and pathetic. Usually you can get rid of them or help them out with simple EVP,” Jeongguk enunciated like he was talking to a five-year-old. Y/N counted it as a miracle Namjoon hadn’t knocked Jeongguk’s block off yet. 

“Was there anything else that was reported besides the apparition of George Parkman, Y/N?” Namjoon ignored Jeongguk, his teeth drawing beads of blood to his lower lip so he wouldn’t say something uncouth to the elk hybrid. 

“Not that Judy mentioned in her email, just general hostile and creepy energy. Jeongguk is probably right, the spirit of Parkman may just be angry that he was provoked. I don’t think we’ll have to return as many times as we did with the Sanders’ case, unless there are surprises waiting for us.”

“It is a pretty large building, though. It might be easier if we split up, during the investigation,” Jeongguk pointed out. 

“That’s fine–”

“No.”

Y/N and Namjoon spoke at the same time, the wolf hybrid firmly cutting her off with immediate disagreement. That familiar, calculative glint in Namjoon’s eyes hardened his softer features, Y/N’s mouth drying up.

“Would you rather be there for six hours, or three, wolf? There’s one of us for each floor.”

“Would you rather get socked in the face when I have to carry Y/N out of the building god forbid something unpredictable happens, or stay together the whole time? This isn’t up for discussion. We won’t split up.”

“Wasn’t aware this was a dictatorship, not a democracy,” Jeongguk muttered under his breath, but did not argue with Namjoon any further. Namjoon’s stern, unquestionable dominance had Y/N squirming in her seat. “Whatever, we’ll stay together. Lighten up, wolf. Where’s that thing we got at the market this morning?”

Namjoon’s jaw slowly began to unclench, reaching backwards for a little bag behind him on the kitchenette. Gingerly, he dumped the contents of the bag on the table in front of Y/N and Jeongguk, the elk hybrid moving his combat boots off the surface and sitting up straight. The receipt fluttered to the carpeted floor, and whatever was in the bag made a clattering noise then it hit the table. Vision focusing, Y/N stared at the items with confusion. 

In front of her were three antique rings, all identical. Made of dark, pounded silver, each ring had a rough-hewn green stone set in the center. Picking one up, Y/N looked closely, the window beside her illuminating the green stone and making it shimmer. 

“Peridot rings. They’re supposed to be especially protective around spirits. The woman at the farmer’s market recommended them,” Namjoon went from predator to sweetheart in a matter of seconds, the tips of his ears turning red. “One for each of us.”

“Matching rings! Cute!” Y/N couldn’t help herself, sliding the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand. “So pretty. And functional! Thank you guys, this is really sweet.”

Swallowing back laughter at the sight of the two of them, ears turned back in embarrassment while they put their own rings on, they copied her by wearing them on the same finger. Y/N froze while she was admiring the rings on their fingers– Jeongguk had her sun sign tattooed on the very same digit. Struck again by the cosmic connection she had to each hybrid of hers, Y/N twisted the ring around her finger a few times, clearing her throat. 

“Okay, so should we start making a list of things we gotta bring to this investigation?”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Yoongi watched Y/N carefully as she mixed up 8 different cocktails that night, one that was unique to each individual in the house. His tail was flicking back and forth in sharp shapes, something it did when he was on the edge of disapproval. 

“No, I took some time off this week. You can probably guess why,” Y/N replied, sliding his cocktail across the island for him: Hennessy, soda water, and a lemon slice. “We might as well cheers.”

“Hell yeah!” Hoseok waltzed in doing a moonwalk, fresh from the shower. His auburn hair appeared even darker red when it was wet, flashing Y/N a grin when he located his simple rum-and-coke. “Nothing like getting hammered while waiting for a shoe to drop!”

“I wish you’d grow a filter,” Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, Y/N not caring in the slightest. She liked that Hoseok said whatever popped into his mind. “Where is everyone?”

“Probably upstairs. You didn’t check your phone? I suggested a game night in the billiard’s room. We can play pool, I set up the card table for poker, I even have Candy Land. There’s darts, too, but I don’t know if I trust Jeongguk not to throw one at Hoseok.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Hoseok took a hearty swig of his cocktail, pushing up the sleeves of his dark green crewneck sweatshirt. “Goth Bambi~”

Hoseok sang off-key, scampering from the bar cart and dashing up the stairs to push Jeongguk’s buttons. Shaking her head, Y/N started loading up a tray with the drinks, and a separate one with bottles in case anyone wanted a top-off. 

“Can you get the bottles, angel?” Y/N’s voice was strained, trying extremely hard not to spill the six cocktails balanced on the tray in her arms. Easily, Yoongi scooped it up, Y/N envious of his hybrid strength and feline grace. “Show off.”

The billiard’s room was connected to the music room via a ‘secret door’, one that was disguised as a bookshelf. The door was closed more often than not to keep everything sufficiently soundproof while the piano was being played or Taehyung had the turntable going. With the bookcase open, going from room to room was a breeze. Navigating into the area carefully, the thick scent of leather invaded her nostrils, thanks to the massive sofas lining the room. It was a large space, about the size of the kitchen directly below it, filled with tabletop games, card tables, a minibar, and a TV that her cousins used to use for sports games.

“If he calls me Goth Bambi one more time,” Jeongguk approached her quickly, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and swiped his gin and tonic from the tray. 

Y/N told him it was the only room in the house he could smoke in, as long as the windows were cracked. After all, her grandfather had a shelf of cigars in the corner he used to smoke and show off to his friends, back in the day. It would be a shame for him not to use the vintage ashtrays and table lighters. 

“Play nice,” Y/N warned, placing Seokjin’s chilled glass of white wine near the pool table, where Yoongi was showing him how to set up the balls. “Give this to Joon, okay?”

Handing Jeongguk a small tumbler of whiskey, identical to the one she poured for Jimin, Jeongguk scoffed and returned to Namjoon, who was inquisitively staring at the poker table. Over the past few months, Namjoon was able to steadily increase his tolerance for alcohol, and found that he liked the same whiskey as the coyote hybrid the most. The shared preference made her smile. 

She left the remaining two drinks– Jimin’s whiskey and Taehyung’s glass of Cabernet– on the minibar. The former was still in the shower after a long afternoon of exercising the horses, and the latter, last Y/N heard from him, was wrapping up something in his darkroom. Y/N still wasn’t sure that he’d accept her ‘game night’ invitation, but because he hadn’t been hiding away lately, she let herself get her hopes up carelessly. 

When Jimin and Taehyung ended up traipsing in, both of them appeared shocked by the rowdiness. Not that anyone was drunk yet, but everyone felt like it was okay to let loose made for a merry atmosphere. Y/N recruited Jimin to be on her team playing pool against Seokjin and Yoongi, which was sort of evil of her considering Jimin had once told her he used to hustle people at pool halls in Montana. Seokjin and Yoongi didn’t have to know that, though. 

Taehyung took up the task of going back and forth to the music room to switch out records when they ran out. To Y/N’s hazy surprise, it seemed like he was actually bartending, too, which had her feeling like she should check outside to see if pigs were soaring through the air. Either that, or he was trying to liquor everyone up so the other hybrids wouldn’t be so stiff around him. 

At the other end of the game room, Namjoon, Jeongguk, and Hoseok were caught in the middle of an intense darts battle. Hoseok’s shouts mingled with Jeongguk’s, and the more liquor the two of them consumed, the louder they got. Y/N wasn’t worried about an actual fight breaking out, considering Hoseok would win one round, and then Jeongguk would win the next– it was only poor Namjoon who failed to win a single round due to either his clumsiness or poor aim. He tapped out after the fourth round in favor of watching the game of pool, which was much less intense but still entertaining to witness. 

“Wow, you guys suck,” Yoongi took a sip of his drink, pointing his pool cue at Jimin and Y/N, Y/N stepping on Jimin’s foot after their third loss. Time to reveal the hustler.

“Ugh. Maybe it’s just me. Joonie, jump in for me? I wanna get some fresh air, it’s hot in here.”

Namjoon stood, wobbling on his feet a little, tossing back the last of his whiskey before surprisingly accepting the pool cue from Y/N. 

“But I’ve never played,” Namjoon muttered, mystified when Jimin offered cue chalk to him. 

“You’ll catch on. Aren’t you some kind of genius?” Yoongi raised a brow, Seokjin’s squeaky laugh sounding on the tipsy side.

 Namjoon huffed, embarrassed, Y/N walking past Taehyung who was shuffling a deck of cards, and Jeongguk refilling his drink. The only one unaccounted for was Hoseok, who Y/N assumed was in the bathroom. Humming, she ambled down the hall to one of the bedrooms that didn’t belong to one of the boys in search of a balcony to sneak a cigarette on. Not that she’d be able to hide the scent, but she’d handle that later.

Finding the creamsicle orange unclaimed bedroom, the space smelling like fresh paint still, Y/N stumbled when she saw that the balcony door was open already, someone standing outside and leaning over the railing on their forearms. Eyes adjusting, she studied the shape of the ears protruding from the figure’s crown, an eyebrow lifting.

“What are you doing out here, social butterfly? Battery drained?” Y/N stepped out onto the balcony, Hoseok’s fluffy auburn hair finally dried. 

“No, no. Just licking my wounds,” Hoseok kept his gaze on the moon, his nose twitching when Y/N stood close to him. “Jeongguk kicked my ass at darts.”

“Sorry to hear. That’ll give him a chip on his shoulder,” Y/N snickered, the fox hybrid’s shoulders shaking but his usual boisterous laugh inaudible. “Is something up? You’re quiet.”

“Nah, it’s nothing, darling.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing, Foxy.”

“Shit doesn’t get by you, huh?” Hoseok shook his head, swirling the remnants of his rum-and-coke around in his glass contemplatively. “Jus’ thinking about that guy.”

“What guy–” Y/N was confused for a moment, but the look on Hoseok’s face had it all flooding back. “Oh. Harold Bass.”

“Yeah, him or whatever. I try to keep it outta sight outta mind, but I don’t know. I guess I have some abandonment issues to sort out, or whatever you call it.”

“That’s understandable,” Y/N responded softly, her heart breaking. “I’m sorry this is happening, honey. I wish I could just make it go away.”

“I know you do,” Hoseok sighed, bumping his hip against hers. “I mean, this situation sucks, but it’s bringing back shit I should probably get to the root of.”

“What do you mean? If you don’t mind sharing, of course,” Y/N asked, forgetting all about a cigarette. “You can use me as a sounding board, if you want.”

Hoseok managed a chuckle, ruffling Y/N’s hair like she was a little kid. 

“Back when I was young, that wolf hybrid ruined a potential adoption for me. Remember when I told you that?”

“Uh-huh. Fucker.”

“Pretty much,” Hoseok agreed, draining the rest of his glass. “I guess that sort of changed how I look at adoptions afterwards. From then on, I’d ruin every adoption attempt for myself on purpose. I just didn’t want… how do I put this. I think I didn’t want to accept the possibility that I could be adopted and then discarded. That shit happens all the time to fox hybrids, most people don’t trust them. So I wanted to eliminate that possibility entirely.”

Hoseok took a breath, eyes still on the moon. Y/N just listened, the way Hoseok’s jaw was pulsing told her he wasn’t quite finished. 

“But when you adopted me, I couldn’t do anything about it. Gerry’s wasn’t like a normal shelter, there were no interviews or meetings beforehand, and besides, I was shifted,” Hoseok seemingly braced himself, gripping the balcony’s ledge. “Part of me was relieved because you seemed harmless, but another part of me was wondering if you would break my heart. I prepared for the worst– that you’d dump me back at that shelter after a few days, once you reality sunk in and you didn’t like my personality. I don’t know. All this stuff is just coming back.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. Hoseok grimaced, tapping his fingers along the balcony railing, his muscles taut when Y/N slipped her arms around his waist from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. The fabric of his sweatshirt was saturated with his woodsy, natural scent, Y/N nearly purring when she breathed it in. The fox hybrid relaxed, Y/N feeling his tail brush between her legs, and she looked up at the moon with him. 

“Even if I didn’t love your personality, which I do love, I wouldn’t have brought you back there. But I understand why your mind went there. Years of thinking a certain way can be tricky to let go of,” Y/N squeezed his trim waist, still focused on the moon. “But let’s start here. I won’t abandon you, not ever. When your thoughts go in that direction, remember that simple truth.”

There was silence, nothing but the wind blowing through the willow branches in the backyard. Hoseok exhaled shakily, his throat clogging up when he tried to formulate a response. Never quite at a loss for words, Hoseok’s voice came out as a rasp.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite person ever.”

Hoseok internally cringed, unable to believe that was the best he could come up with, managing to peel his back from Y/N’s chest and turn to face her sheepishly. There was a look of surprise that flashed across her features before she recovered smoothly, poking the crater above the corner of his mouth.

“I think you’re sort of like my favorite fox hybrid ever, Hoseok. No, actually, I know you are, sunshine,” Y/N captured his hand, tangling their fingers together. Hoseok had an odd fluttering sensation in his gut, Y/N tugging him back towards the house. “Hey. You ever play poker?”

“Huh?” Hoseok spluttered, the change in subject taking him off guard though not particularly in an unwelcome way. “You gonna teach me?”

“I’ll show you a few tricks. You gotta get back at Jeongguk, after all.”

Hoseok realized quickly what Y/N was doing– cheerily letting things go so he wouldn’t wallow for the rest of the night. Hoseok didn’t like to beat dead horses, preferring to bounce back as quickly as he could. A part of him wondered if Y/N had figured that out about him, and was attempting to prevent him from standing on a metaphorical ledge. Tightening his hold on her small hand in his, Hoseok let her lead him into the light.

“Clever girl,” Hoseok praised, smirking at the way Y/N stumbled over her own feet. “You deal. I don’t trust him to shuffle correctly.”

 “I can’t believe this thing works,” Y/N muttered, sliding bottle of water after bottle into the vintage minifridge. 

The morning after game night, she decided to stock up the guest house for anything her and Seokjin might… need. She started with the obvious; snacks and drinks, comfortable bedding, towels and whatnot. Y/N didn’t know where to go from there, once all of Seokjin’s favorite snacks were in place, worrying her lower lip when she sunk down onto the loveseat across from the kitchenette. Too shy to ask Seokjin for any additional information about his rut, Y/N turned to the internet instead. Her main concern was somehow letting Seokjin down– whether it was her being unable to keep up with him, or not knowing enough about being able to take care of him. 

“Ugh, Reddit. Staying away from those mouth breathers,” Y/N scoffed to herself, scrolling through her cursory Google search of ‘hybrid ruts with human partners’. Y/N clicked on a link, gnawing on her nails as the page loaded. “Medical journal. Promising.”

Ruts or heats are a natural cycle that all hybrids experience when they reach sexual maturity. For years, the cycle can be managed by the hybrid alone, but this can change when a hybrid has a romantic partner, and drastically change if they claim a mate. 

For hybrids that choose to spend a cycle with a partner that’s a human, a few things need to be considered by that human. First, contacting their doctor for supplements is essential. Supplements provided will ensure the human gets enough vitamins, increase their stamina, and trigger similar symptoms that their hybrid counterpart experiences during their cycle. These supplements should be taken for two weeks prior to the hybrid’s cycle. 

It is important for the human to remember that ruts or heats heighten animalistic instinct in a hybrid. The purpose of the cycle is to breed or be bred, and the hybrid will attempt to do so successfully. Of course, when birth control is used, this can be avoided– but nonetheless, the baser instincts of the hybrid will think of nothing but reproduction. Humans should make sure they are using birth control during the cycle if pregnancy is undesired. 

The cycle will heighten the temperature of the hybrid’s blood, so they may appear feverish, much like when they need to scent. This is normal and not something to be concerned about. Having plenty of ventilation in the room is necessary, as is enough water or electrolyte drinks. Items that bring your hybrid comfort are recommended to have around the area, such as blankets, sentimental objects, or their favorite movies. 

Finally, limit interruptions if possible. While the purpose of the cycle is reproduction, it is a deeply intimate time to the hybrid. Their partner is the only thing that matters to them, and interaction with others could warrant possessive and even dangerous behavior towards the person who interrupts. Privacy is a priority to most hybrids, so make arrangements to avoid interruption. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Y/N’s heart was racing, still processing the words ‘breed or be bred’. 

On top of that, it would be somewhat of an awkward conversation to have with her doctor to get the supplements, but she’d have to get them right away. Seokjin’s rut was fast approaching, and she only had about three weeks to fill the prescription and begin to take them. However, the thought of the supplements augmenting her stamina to keep up with Seokjin was immediately comforting. 

Thinking she did all she could at the moment, Y/N called her doctor as she headed back towards the house, focusing on admiring the dandelions studding the grass rather than the odd conversation about the supplements. The kitchen was eerily empty, Y/N growing suspicious until she remembered her dad swung by earlier to take the boys to their dental appointments. With a sigh, she prayed to the sky none of them had any issues with their teeth, wondering how to keep herself entertained until everyone was home.

Deciding to do some housework, Y/N hauled her ass upstairs to throw a load of laundry in. However, when she got to the top of the stairs, she paused by Taehyung’s dark room. There was a large stack of frames wrapped in paper, Y/N able to tell that they were the portraits Taehyung took months ago. He must have been able to take them home for Y/N, which she had begged him to many times. Reflecting on what exactly made him want to bring them home then, she abandoned her quest to put laundry away in Jeongguk’s room in favor of a quick DIY project. 

“Where the fuck did I put that hammer?” Y/N sucked in her cheeks, rummaging around in the supply closet for what she needed. Cursing again when she bumped her hip against a step ladder, she shook off the pain and located a box of nails on the shelf. Singing a tune, Y/N methodically unwrapped the portraits, grinning at the one of Jimin. “Oh, he’s so cute.”

Luckily, she remembered the order that Taehyung had originally arranged the photographs during the particular expo he displayed them, so she decided to copy his vision and hang them that way. The wall in between the music room and the dark room was large enough for her to put all nine of the frames, so she started mapping out the spots with a stray pencil. With a grunt, she placed the picture of the house in the center, making sure it wasn’t crooked. Getting lost in the task, Y/N’s heart felt full as she admired the photos of her boys. When she was halfway through the process, the front door downstairs banged open, Y/N cringing.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N pictured Jeongguk blasting through the door like he always did, not giving a flying fuck about the antique stained glass. “I’m up here if anyone is looking!”

“I heard the ‘motherfucker’ remark,” Jeongguk, predictably, barreled up the stairs in his heavy combat boots. “Namjoon had a cavity. Can you stop filling him up on the pastries now?”

“Oh no, is he okay? Did he get it filled?” Y/N panicked, setting the portrait of Hoseok down urgently. 

“I’m fine,” Namjoon appeared on the stairs, rubbing his jaw with a slight pout. “Hurt.”

“Sorry, Joon Bug,” Y/N frowned, Jeongguk helping her out by hanging the portrait that was up high. “There’s Advil in my room if you need it.” Namjoon did, in fact, need it. He disappeared with a swish of a tail, Jeongguk snickering at him. 

“Need help screwing your piercings back in?” Y/N decided to test the waters and be bold, Jeongguk blinking stupidly as soon as the words left her mouth. Appearing like he was attempting to recover, Jeongguk cleared his throat, an eyebrow lifted. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jeongguk replied, crossing his inked arms over his chest. “I think I can manage myself, doll.”

“Suit yourself,” Y/N shrugged, going back to hanging Hoseok’s portrait on the wall. “I’ll be here in case you change your mind, Bambi.”

“You–” Jeongguk spluttered, taken aback by her blatant, flirtatious banter. “You know what? Fine. Gonna shower, see you at dinner.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Hearing him stalk away, a nail in her mouth, Y/N smirked to herself. Maybe her game wasn’t so bad after all.

“Oh, you’re–” A new voice met her ears, Y/N peering over her shoulder curiously. Not that she had to guess who was speaking, his voice distinct and instantly recognizable to her. “You’re putting them up? Here?”

Taehyung, in an oversized jean jacket and cargo pants, was gawking at the photographs, wringing his hands together. His hair was so curly and wild that afternoon that it completely disguised his rounded ears. 

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me you brought these home! I was so excited to see them when I came up here to do laundry,” Y/N hung up the last portrait, Jimin’s, and fondly ran her fingers over the curves of the coyote hybrid’s face. “Is the spot I chose okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Taehyung approached her slowly, like he was approaching a crocodile or something. “You put them up like I did.”

“Uh-huh. I think I got the order right, but feel free to correct me. Ah, they look so good. I love these so much,” Y/N gushed, unthinkingly passing her hand over Taehyung’s back. He didn’t flinch away, thankfully, but he was blinking rapidly at the contact. “My handsome boys… ugh, it looks perfect. New favorite part of the house.”

“You like them that much?”

“Like them? I love them! How could I not?” Y/N snorted, booping Namjoon’s nose through the glass frame. “You’re talented, Tae. Besides, these pictures are all of the important people in my life. There was a reason I was begging you to bring these home for months.”

Taehyung was staring at her analytically, his straight eyelashes brushing his cheekbone. Y/N didn’t notice that he was staring, however, too busy admiring the portraits. His heart ached when he realized that Y/N actually remembered how he hung the frames at the Christmas expo, and took enough care to replicate it on their wall at home.  

“Sorry I didn’t bring them home sooner, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured, finally snagging her attention when he called her name. “Thank you for putting them up.”

“Ah, don’t apologize. Just promise me you’ll always bring your pieces home so I can display them,” Y/N glanced up at him, struck by how beautiful he was all of a sudden. She missed him. 

“Okay, I promise,” Taehyung whispered, using an index finger to cross over his heart. The action was playful, in stark contrast to the morose way he had been carrying himself for weeks. Patting his back once more, Y/N scooped up the nails and hammer to shove back into the supply closet. 

“Y/N, I can’t find the Advil,” Namjoon shouted from downstairs, a slight whine in his voice. 

“Be down in a second, Bug,” Y/N snorted, picturing his frustrated pout. “What do you feel like for dinner, Tae?”

“You’re asking me?” Taehyung was confused, adjusting the collar of his flannel nervously. 

“Well, yeah. You want some takeout? Or anything in particular I can make?” 

“Um… Thai food?” Taehyung spoke very slowly, Y/N cocking her head curiously. 

“Do you want Thai food or are you just suggesting it because it’s my favorite, Tae?” Y/N teased, surprise flashing over his face. 

“No, no, I like it too! I swear!” Taehyung put his hands up, Y/N giggling at his defense. “Or if nobody wants that… Korean food?”

“Let’s go with that. I could definitely tear up some kimchi jjigae,” Y/N cheered, somehow knowing that that was what Taehyung really wanted. “Alright, honey. I’m gonna help Namjoon hunt for the Advil. Text me what you want from the restaurant, okay?”

Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, simply nodding– and for some reason– looking her up and down like he was trying to memorize her figure. Flashing him a smile, Y/N waved cheerily as she raced down the stairs. 

“I swear I looked here,” Namjoon complained, his ears flat when Y/N pulled the bottle of pills out of her medicine cabinet. He was still rubbing his jaw, Y/N fighting back a coo at the sight of him. 

“It was sort of hidden behind the jar of cotton balls. No worries, Bug. Just take two of those!” 

“Two?”

“Yeah, Joonie. You’re a big guy, you gotta take two,” Y/N chuckled, filling a paper cup with water for him. Y/N wasn’t exactly how tall Namjoon was, but he had to be at least six foot four. Hybrids tended to be taller than humans anyways, but Namjoon’s height was still startling from time to time. 

“I’m trusting you not to poison me,” Namjoon narrowed his eyes, apparently cracking a joke. She watched him through the mirror toss the pills back, following the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Why would I poison you? You’re too precious to me, silly,” Y/N grouched, poking him repeatedly on his sweater-clad chest. The wolf hybrid caught her wrist after the third poke, his amber eyes burning. 

“You mean that?” He asked quietly, thumb brushing over her wrist bone. With a tiny intake of air, Y/N smiled at Namjoon gently, curling her fingers around his thumb. Y/N knew that Namjoon, as a wolf hybrid, needed consistent reassurances of loyalty, and whenever he got it, he both glowed and became unsure.

“I mean it, of course I mean it. Come on, Bug. I’ll make you an ice pack, you keep rubbing your jaw,” Y/N squeezed his thumb, and the intense desire to kiss him had her shoving down the sensation aggressively. “How’s japchae sounding to you tonight?”

“You’re ordering from Haju? Uh… I want to try the knife cut noodles,” Namjoon brightened up, letting Y/N drag him along by his thumb. 

“You can order anything you want, that’s our policy in this house,” Y/N pushed him onto a barstool in the kitchen, blowing a kiss to Yoongi making tea on the stove. “Angel, do you know where that fabric ice pack went? Joon had a cavity, I think he should ice his jaw.”

“Third drawer to the left of the stove, baby,” Yoongi responded without looking up from the kettle he was standing over, instantly beginning to purr when Y/N pressed a kiss on the nape of his neck. “Take it easy on the sweets from now on, wolf.”

Namjoon snarled, hair on his tail standing on edge, though his fingertips were inching towards the cookie jar on the island, so Yoongi was correct to warn him. 

“I wouldn’t do that, Joonie. Wait a few days to have sweets–” Y/N began, handing him the ice pack before her speech was cut off by her phone ringing in her pocket. The caller ID showed that it was Ben, which had her pulse galloping. “Oh. One sec.”

“Ben, hi. You’re on speaker, Yoongi and Namjoon are here,” Y/N swallowed thickly, praying for some good news. Namjoon was frozen in his seat, the ice pack pressed to his jaw, while Yoongi shakily poured himself a mug of tea. “Um. Any news?”

“Hey, guys. I’m sorry, this man is a fuckin’ prick.”

“Oh, great. What the fuck did he do?” Y/N put her head in her hands, Yoongi petting the back of her head gingerly. 

“Even with the restraining order, he still wants to take you to court. Y/N, I don’t want you to worry. He cannot take your hybrids. If anything, if his lawyer miraculously ends up being better than me, you might have to pay him what he gave Gerry for the deposits. Oh, and when this blows over, I can help you sue Gerry for giving up private information,” Ben sounded like he was furiously taking notes on the other line, though his tone was soothing. 

“R-really? You’re certain he can’t take them?”

“I’m positive. The only way that would be possible would be if his ‘deposit’ was more than what you paid to adopt them, and even then, the chances would be slim to zero. The jury would be in your favor, Y/N.”

“Ben, you’re not sugar coating things for me, are you?” Y/N leaned into Yoongi, his sweet cologne curling around her. 

“No, and you know I’d never. Not about something like this. Listen, Y/N, Yoongi, Namjoon– you’ll be perfectly safe. I’m gonna give that prick the fight of his life, if you don’t kill him first, Y/N,” Ben replied, the prickly sound of him scratching his beard coming through the receiver, before adding quickly– “Not that I’m encouraging that, Y/N. Stay as far away from him as you can.”

“Of course. We’ve been sticking close to home,” Y/N felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, even Yoongi relaxing beside her, his ever-constant purring resuming. “Thanks for everything, Ben. I love you.”

“Love you too, kid. Take care of each other, alright? I’ll call you when I have an update.”

Breathing out slowly, Y/N pet the back of Yoongi’s head when she hung up. 

“That’s good news. We’ll be okay,” Y/N said encouragingly, Yoongi melting into her touch. “I’m gonna order some dinner, then we can pick out a movie or something. Maybe have another poker tournament. I don’t know, I feel like we should celebrate.”

“One step closer to getting that motherfucker out of our lives,” Yoongi agreed, glaring at Namjoon when the wolf hybrid tried to get himself a cookie again. “I wish I could kill him.”

“Me too, but alas,” Y/N sighed, wagging her finger at Namjoon. “Joon, I’m serious. Cool it with the cookies for a few days.”

“What were you doing upstairs? I heard loud banging,” Yoongi changed the subject while Y/N began compiling an online order of an ungodly amount of Korean food. 

“Oh, I put up Tae’s pictures. You know, the portraits of all of us. I’m so happy, they look beautiful…” Y/N answered distractedly, Yoongi’s tail winding around her leg. “Hmm. You think Seokjin would want naengmyeon? I think he’d like that… he did tell me once he’d try anything… but yeah! Check out the pictures when you can. All of my beautiful boys.”

Distantly, she heard Namjoon grunt, and when she cast a look at him, his face was rather flushed and he was gawking at the window into the backyard. He was always rather bashful with compliments, something that endeared him to her. 

“Can you get me bulgogi? Please,” Hoseok made an appearance, drawing out the syllables of his words. “My gums hurt. I think the tech scraped them too hard.”

“At least you didn’t have a drill in your mouth,” Namjoon responded to Hoseok’s complaint bitterly, and to Hoseok’s credit, he managed a merry laugh. It seemed like, those days, Hoseok wasn’t intimidated by Namjoon any more. Leave it to a stressful situation to bring everyone together. 

“You’re very brave, wolf,” Yoongi drawled, sipping his tea placidly. 

“I missed you guys so much today,” Y/N snorted, the lack of their banter during the afternoon striking her all of a sudden. Hoseok, on his way to the fridge, pinched her cheek like an elderly aunt, Y/N rolling her eyes. When she turned, she noticed Taehyung distractedly organizing items on the coffee bar, staring at her strangely again. She decided she’d take that over him avoiding her any day, adding the stew he wanted to the order and getting him extra rice. 

Taehyung was pacing around his room like a madman. If it went on for much longer, he could see the floorboards taking on impressions of his footprints. Stopping by the window, he froze when he saw Y/N ambling in the direction of the pond in the backyard, where the guesthouse was. While no one explicitly said anything, all the hybrids knew– it was all in Seokjin’s scent. Y/N was probably preparing that space for the two of them to get privacy during the jaguar hybrid’s rut. Taehyung would be a liar if he didn’t admit he was nearly boiling alive in his own jealousy. 

“Look at her. Hauling heavy shit out there all by herself,” Taehyung rested his forehead on the cool glass pane, biting down on his lip when she stumbled over a stray stone, almost dropping the space heater she was carrying. 

Taehyung realized a simple truth. Y/N loved them all, he knew it. He knew it, but he had been too terrified to confront her about it, to confirm whether or not she loved him like he had grown to love her. Cursing, Taehyung sprung into action when Y/N tripped again, this time sending her into the grass. Like a bat out of hell, he sprinted down the stairs and out into the yard without a single thought, not aware that he could even move that fast. 

Y/N was still reeling in the grass, the space heater beside her, the fabric of her floral skirt fanning out around her. Her eyes widened when she saw Taehyung hurrying over to her, his chest heaving. 

“Y/N,” Taehyung crouched, pushing strands of hair in her face aside. Stiffening, he caught the scent of her blood, heart stopping dead in his chest as he looked her over. “You’re hurt!”

“...huh? Tae?” Y/N was confused, like the rock she had tripped over hit her on the head. Was she dreaming? Was Taehyung really the one running trembling hands over her body?

“Your leg,” Taehyung sounded pained, spotting a jagged cut on her shin. “Why didn’t you ask for help? Where is everybody?”

“The store… needed a few things. Joonie, Jeongguk…” Y/N, dazedly, pointed off to the distance, probably the driveway where the van was parked. Taehyung was too busy staring at the blood rolling down her leg. “I’m okay. I’ll get a bandaid after I bring this space heater to the–”

She was interrupted by Taehyung removing his red flannel, tearing strips of fabric from the bottom of it with his teeth. Blinking at his sharp canines, Y/N was sufficiently shut up, watching the Kodiak hybrid mop up her blood with a concentrated expression. His grip around her calf was tender, but Y/N could tell he was irritated with her as he tied the makeshift bandage around her leg. 

“Can you stand?” Taehyung caught her eyes, trying not to drown in the color of them. Based on her scent, Taehyung knew she could tell he was ticked. “Let me help you up. No, I’ll carry that to wherever you’re bringing it.”

Taehyung brought Y/N to her feet by hooking his hands under her armpits, her skirt fluttering in the wind as she held onto his shoulders for support. Gazing up at him, Taehyung noticed how easy it would be to lean down and kiss her. Clearing his throat, he released her, bending to scoop up the space heater. 

“O-oh. Thank you,” Y/N whispered, Taehyung able to hear how fast her heart was racing. It got his hopes up. 

“I’m assuming you wanna bring it there,” Taehyung gestured to the guest house by the pond, Y/N humming in agreement. “Seokjin’s rut coming up?”

“Ah– um. Yeah. I suppose it’s obvious, bringing all of these things out here,” Y/N said awkwardly, noting that Taehyung was slowing down his pace so she could keep up with him. Taehyung didn’t reply, letting Y/N open the door to the small building, the Kodiak hybrid strolling in and placing the space heater next to the loveseat. 

“It’s nice in here,” Taehyung offered, taking a good look around. Y/N had put all of Seokjin’s favorite comforts in the space, the jaguar hybrid’s scent coming heavily off of the fuzzy blankets, piles of his pajamas, and even the stuffed animal he often carried around. 

“Yeah, it is. I totally forgot this was such an awesome space. We can probably use it this summer to watch movies,” Y/N began to recover from her stumble, straightening out the stack of DVDs on the coffee table. “I think that’ll be fun. I’m looking forward to spending summer with you guys. We can make day trips to the beach.”

Taehyung made a lap of the circular room, peeking up at the loft where the bed was. Y/N kept rambling to fill the silence, which was making her somewhat nervous. 

“Plus we’ll have the garden in full bloom, so I can teach you all how to dry herbs. Jimin says he knows how to make jam, so he can pass that knowledge onto us, too. He’s been working so hard on the greenhouse and the garden beds, it’s going to be the best,” Y/N’s gaze was far away as she looked out the window, admiring the garden beds a few yards away. Taehyung caught that scent again– the syrupy sweet one that Y/N took on when she complimented them. 

“You must really love him,” Taehyung remarked quietly, referring to Jimin but his eyes on Seokjin’s stuffed alpaca. He wondered if Y/N would take the bait as she almost broke her neck to stare at him. 

“H-him? Seokjin?”

“Jimin,” Taehyung shook his head, finally mustering up his courage. “Seokjin too, obviously. But you love Jimin as well.”

Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, completely caught off guard. Taehyung’s confidence surged when she had no reply, taking a step closer to her. 

“How can you t-tell?” Dizzy, Y/N saw something vulnerable swimming in his carmine eyes, astonished that they were finally having the conversation the two of them were skirting around for weeks.

“Scent. The way you talk about him. The way you look at him,” Taehyung rattled off, ticking the items off on his lithe fingers. “And it’s not just him. You love Hoseok, especially when he teases you. You talk about Namjoon like he hung the moon and you love Jeongguk despite his poor attitude.”

Y/N was too shocked for words, her hands shaking, so Taehyung continued. 

“And it just makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Y/N found her voice, Taehyung taking one of her hands gingerly. 

“It makes me wonder if there’s any space left in your heart,” Taehyung whispered, plunging straight into the deep end, wanting to swallow the gasp Y/N made. “Do you love me?”

A tear slipped down Y/N’s cheek, unaware they even gathered in the first place. Swiftly, Taehyung brushed it away, his thumb warm on her skin. 

“Tell me, please,” Taehyung begged, unable to bear not belonging to her for a single moment further. 

“I love you,” Y/N’s voice cracked, wrapping her hand around Taehyung’s wrist and leaning her cheek into his palm. “There’s always been space for you in my heart. Always. Tae–”

“You love me?”

“Yes, so much,” Y/N was shaking like a leaf, heart threatening to break free from its cage, and to calm herself down and reassure her Kodiak hybrid, she pressed a kiss to the base of his palm. “I’m so sorry you thought I didn’t know.”

With a shuddering breath, Taehyung shut his eyes, letting go of her face in favor of winding his arms around her waist. He pulled her so close, he thought their souls would merge, Y/N melting into his chest and clutching at his white tee shirt. Nuzzling into the crook of her neck, Taehyung drank in her scent, sweeter than ever since he confirmed the reciprocation of his feelings. 

“I’m sorry, Tae. It would have been easier for you if I was braver. I love you. I’ll tell you every day from now on,” Y/N babbled into his chest, not caring that it was difficult to breathe with the way Taehyung was squeezing her. 

The Kodiak hybrid’s ears were practically ringing, he was so elated. He never felt that way before, and it was entirely overwhelming. He couldn’t wait a second longer, so lifting her body easily, he pressed her to the window and crashed his lips down onto hers. 

A muffled noise of surprise passed from Y/N’s mouth to his, Y/N’s arms around Taehyung’s neck to hold on tight. Pinned to the wall by the hybrid, Y/N was consumed by him, surrounded by his sandalwood cologne, and tasting honey on his tongue when he slipped it into her mouth. It was like he was trying to eat her whole, his kisses rough and all-consuming, and Y/N loved it. Carding a hand through his curls, she whimpered when he sucked on her lower lip.

Taehyung couldn’t get enough. Now that he had kissed her, he didn’t know how he could go another day without one. When his lungs started to ache from lack of oxygen, he paused, their lips centimeters apart. When he opened his eyes, Y/N was already looking at him. Cupping one of his cheeks in her hand, Y/N kissed his forehead softly, and when she pulled away, Taehyung was smiling at her, teeth and all. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she saw it in all its glory, but she was delighted to see it once more. Taehyung wondered if he’d ever stop smiling when he ducked back down for another kiss. 

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

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[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 11

Word Count- 3.8k

Warnings- Mentions of Suicide(Damon trying to die because of his wolf bite), swearing, death, blood, gun/gun-shot wounds, smaller chapter but big things happening cliffhanger ending

“Yes, Elena. Once again, I’m fine. I have to go run an errand and then I’ll see you guys at the square. OK? Toodles!”

I quickly hung up my phone, just in case Elena decided to ask what errand I was running. How the hell am I supposed to tell her I’m going to try to talk a dying Damon Salvatore off the ledge?

It’s been two days since Demon dropped the bomb that he was dying and then disappeared. He hasn’t answered my calls and whenever I ask Stefan about him he says “I’m working on it.” Not well enough, clearly, because the Bunny Eater called me 30 minutes ago telling me Damon just tried lighting himself on fire and he needs my help talking him down. I’m not sure why I’m the one he called for this since I’ve heard Damon on more than one occasion say he’d rather die than listen to me speak. 

Damon and Stefan have made me keep quiet about this, so no one else but us three knows. Which is why I fibbed a bit on my phone call with Elena. I’m not entirely on board with keeping this a secret. What do the Salvatores think is going to happen when the werewolf bite kills Damon? Just tell everyone Damon went upstate to a farm, just like what parents tell their children when their turtles or dogs die.

Although Damon and I have had our differences, I can admit the thought of him dying doesn’t sit well with me. Especially since he got bit trying to stop the ritual. Even though it didn’t stop it, it did save Tyler and Caroline. Who I guess was replaced by that bitch Jules and some random vampire Klaus had in his back pocket. 

I take a deep breath as I exit my car and walk up to the front door of the Salvatore house. I don’t bother knocking since everyone kind of just lets themselves in when it comes to this place. I’m about to call out for Stefan but within a moment he’s flashed in front of me. 

“Oh good lord,” I clutch my chest in surprise. At this Stefan’s eyes widen and he reaches out to me.

“I’m sorry, Y/n! Is it your heart again? Do you need anything? Here take some of my blood,” Stefan frantically says.

I put both of my hands up and shake them, “Stefan calm down dude, okay? I’m good, you just scared me. I’ve got to start getting you vamps little bells to wear around your necks.”

Stefan slightly laughs but I can still see the weariness in his eyes.

“Really Stefana, I’m good.”

Stefan sighs and nods, “Sorry, I just…with everything going on I’m just…,” Stefan rubs his hand over his face and now I can clearly see the exhaustion and sadness on it. 

I take a step closer and wrap my arms around him in a hug, “It’ll be ok, we’ll figure it out, alright?”

Stefan doesn’t say anything but I feel him nod as he wraps his arms around me tighter as if me hugging him is the only thing keeping him grounded. And after seeing his older brother trying to light himself on fire, it might just be. 

After another moment Stefan releases me and smiles at me but it doesn't reach up all the way. 

“He’s down here,” He says and I follow him down to where Elijah was when he was daggered. 

At the thought of the Original my heart sinks. It’s been three days since I’ve seen or heard from him. Each time I hear my phone ring a small part of me expects it to be him with his stupid posh accent telling me he’s sorry for ghosting me, but every time I answer it’s never him. I’ve tried to distract myself with hanging out with the girls, or Theo, and even the occasional phone call with Jenna who talks to me a lot now about the supernatural since we both learned about it recently. Bonnie and I have also been going through her deceased Gram’s grimoires and things to see if we can find anything on why my chest bled and then magically healed itself, but nothing comes up.  It’s disheartening but Bonnie says she won’t stop searching until she’s found the reason. Our time together has made me realize just how good of a friend Bonnie is. She’s loyal and kind and she’d fight for her friends until her dying breath. Which is sadly something she has already done once. I really like hanging out with her and her teaching me more about her world. I may not understand much about witches but it’s nice to see how excited she gets when she talks about it. 

“Are you going to be good down here by yourself,” Stefan leans down to whisper to me.

“What,” I question now realizing he’s been talking this entire time. 

“I have to go to the square to go speak to Elena but after I’ll be back. Just whatever he says, don’t let him out. Ric should be here soon too. He can take your place when he gets here.”

I do a soldier’s salute and he rolls his eyes as he walks back upstairs. Leaving me and Grumpy down here by ourselves. The door that separates us is big and wooden with a small window that has three metal bars. I look through and frown when I see Damon scrunched up, sitting on the far side of the room. 

“Are you going to eat me if I come in?”

“Drinking your blood would be a fate worse than death,” Damon’s scratchy voice speaks up after a moment. 

I roll my eyes as I unlock the door and push it open, I quickly make my way inside and close it. I lean against the door and cross my arms as I look at the dying vampire in front of me. 

“Stefan really thought you of all people would be the one to talk me off the ledge,” Damon grunts out as he puts his head up to look at me. 

“That’s exactly what I said. I told him you’d be more likely to do it again after hearing me speak,” I laugh out.

Damon’s upper lip twitches for a moment and he lets out a strangled laugh, “You’re not wrong. 

We’re both quiet for a moment before Damon speaks up again, “I’m going to die.”

I take a deep breath and sit down against the door mirroring Damon, “At the moment, yes you are.”

Damon raises an eyebrow at me, “So you’re not going to fill me with fairy tales about some special cure and that by tomorrow I’ll be fresh as a daisy?”

I shrug my shoulders, “Is that what you want me to do?”

Damon stares at me for a moment and then shakes his head, “No, I don’t.”

“Alright then. Works for me. You know, Stefan called me to try to talk you down because he thinks what you did was crazy. But… I understand why you did it.”

This captures Damon’s attention as he stares questioningly at me, “You do?”

I nod as I play with a loose thread on my shirt, “Ya. You’re scared. And in pain. You think this is the only way out, but it isn’t. And I’m not saying that because of some magical cure. I’m saying that because you still have time left to say your goodbyes and to be with those who actually care about you. Even though you’re an actual hellspawn. I know that this is scary, you’ve been alive for over a century and now you’re facing mortality for the first time in years. I would be scared too.”

Damon’s jaw clenches and for a moment I think he’s mad but when I see him turn his head to stare at the wall next to him I realize he’s trying to hide his emotions. 

“Damon you can stare at that wall all you’d like but I meant what I said.”

At the sound of footsteps, I stand up. 

“Ric’s here. Try not to be such an ass to him. You’re kind of like his only friend,” When he doesn’t make any noise about my joke I frown and start to unlatch the door, “I’m glad I met you, Damon. I don’t tell a lot of people that, but it’s true. Thanks for bringing out a fire in me I didn’t know I had.”

Damon says nothing and I quickly wipe a stray tear from my face as I open the door.

“I’m glad I met you too, Y/N. Even though you’re a pain in the ass,” I turn and make eye contact with Damon, and even though the room is dark, I swear I can see small tears building in his blue eyes, “I don’t believe in next lives or whatever…but if they somehow exist, I wouldn’t mind meeting you again in that one, Pukey.”

I let out a small sob as I run over to the seated man and throw my arms over him. He lets out a grunt of surprise and after a moment he wraps his arms around me and I can feel the dampness from his tears on my shirt.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you,” He tries to threaten but his voice comes out strained so it doesn’t hold much punch.

“Ya whatever, Demon.”

—

It’s night by the time I get to the square for whatever movie night the town’s having. Elena asked me to come earlier since she says everyone needs a break from all the chaos that has happened. I’m not excited to see how she’s going to react to the news about Damon. But for now, I’m grabbing my fluffy blanket and walking towards my friends and watching this stupid movie.

Jenna, Jeremy, Bonnie, and Caroline all sit together talking as I walk up behind them. 

“Hey guys,” I say and they all spin around to look at me. Bonnie and Jenna both send me warm smiles and waves, Caroline hops up and guides me over to the group talking my ear off already, and Jeremy tries to send me a smile but that dude looks like he would rather be anywhere else. 

“What errand took you so long,” Caroline questions.

“Oh, Theo just needed some help bringing back his football gear and stuff. I guess the coach has been bothering him to get it back for weeks since the season ended,” I say which isn’t a total lie since I did do that after leaving the Salvatores.

“How is Theo,” Jeremy asks. 

Ever since the funeral Jeremy and Theo have been gaming together. When I asked Theo about it,  he said he was doing it out of pity and that someone as cool as him wouldn’t hang out with an emo like Jeremy. But after passing by Theo’s room and hearing him and Jeremy laugh and make fun of each other over call, I don’t think Theo is really doing this out of pity anymore. After moving here and with everything that has happened with our parents it’s been hard for Theo to make friends. Even though he says otherwise. I know he has people to hang out with at school, but it’s all brainless jocks who probably don’t even care to know my brother’s favorite color. He needs a good friend like Jeremy in his life. 

“Theo’s good. Even though he was pissy this morning because he says you cheated last night,” I admit to him as I sit down next to Jenna and Caroline. 

Jeremy shoots me a look of disbelief, “I did not cheat! That jerk! He’s the one who cheated,” Jeremy lifts up his phone and starts angrily texting someone. A someone, who I’m guessing is my brother.

I look around noticing the absence of my best friend, “Where’s Elena?”

They all look at each other wearily before Bonnie grabs my hand, “You might want to prepare yourself for this.”

I look at her confused for a moment and whisper, “Is this about the Damon thing?”

“You knew?!’’

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bro!”

They all yell out and I raise my hands in surrender, “Hey! Stefana and Demon made me keep quiet. They didn’t want to stress anyone else out more.”

“How long have you known,” Caroline asks me and I grimace, “Like… since John’s funeral.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It just wasn’t my place to say.”

They think about this for a moment before nodding.

“Elena went to go talk to Damon and Stefan is off trying to find a cure,” Bonnie says.

“Let’s hope he finds one in time.”

We all quiet down after a moment and go back to watching the movie, but 5 minutes later I feel a tap on my right shoulder.

I shoot Jenna a questioning look as she leans down to whisper to me, “Anything from Elijah?”

I just send her a small shake of my head and she returns it with a comforting smile and a squeeze to my shoulder, “His loss then.”

Over the past few days of Jenna and I talking about the supernatural, we’ve also been chatting about other things like school and relationships. It took me a while to open up but after I did I brought up Elijah. Talking to Jenna about Elijah, and everything that’s happened with him has actually made me feel somewhat better. Jenna’s been more of a mother figure to me these past three days than my own mother has in almost 18 years. 

Out of the corner of my eye, Jeremy quickly stands up, capturing all of our attention. 

He hangs up the phone and turns back to us with a nervous look, “Damon escaped and Elena wasn’t there yet so Ric thinks he’s coming here to see her. Ric says the bite is making him hallucinate so he’s not himself right now.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter to myself and Jenna slightly elbows me and shoots me a disapproving look. 

“If Damon is off the rails, there is nothing you can do to stop him. Let us take care of it,” Bonnie gestures towards herself, and Caroline and I want to groan at this. It’s really starting to piss me off how the supernaturals keep pushing us humans away every time we want to help. Just because we don’t have super strength or heal within a split second doesn’t mean we’re useless.  

“You keep doing this! You left me behind before, and guess what, Elena was still killed,” Jeremy exclaims to his girlfriend, “I’m going to find my sister. You go ahead and try to stop me. Y/N, Jenna, you with me?” 

Jenna instantly nods and I shoot a look at Bonnie and Caroline before walking towards Jeremy, “Let’s go.”

—

“There he is!” 

I follow behind Jeremy as we see a wounded Damon staring off into space. Jenna left a while ago to go find Ric, leaving Little Gilbert and I to try to find Elena. “Damon,” Jeremy tries catching the attention of the delusional vamp and I watch with caution. 

“Where’s Elena? I need to see Elena now,” He frantically says and I send him a smile as Jeremy walks closer to him.

“Hey, let’s get you out of here first, alright,” Jeremy grabs Damon, who instantly falls into his arms. I go to the vampire’s other side and grab his arms trying to help Jeremy with the deadweight. 

After a bunch of odd stares and murmurs from passersby, we finally get Damon through the crowd and into the empty Grill.

Jeremy drops Damon off at a table and goes to tell Ric where we are. I’m still holding onto Damon's arm as I watch Jere, but turn around when I feel Damon do the same. And I freeze.

“Y/n, move I don’t want to hurt you,” Sheriff Forbes stands in front of us holding her gun and pointing at Damon. 

I go to try to reason to her but Damon flashes away, spooking Liz and all I hear is the sound of a gun and a piercing in my left arm. 

“Oh god,” Liz looks at me for a moment in shock but when she looks behind me her features go straight to fear. 

A strangled sob escapes my mouth as I watch Jeremy fall to the floor, his once-grey shirt turning red, as blood spills from his chest. 

“What the hell did you do,” I scream at Liz as I run over to Jeremy with tears in my eyes.

 I strip off my sweatshirt and place it over his bleeding chest.

“Come on Jeremy, you’re going to be alright,” I sob, “You’re going to be alright Jere,”

Another sob comes from my mouth as Jeremy’s shaking hand grabs mine for comfort. 

“I know this hurts but I have to keep pressure on it, okay. You’re going to be just fine.”

I can hear Liz call for paramedics as she tries to move my hands so she can hold down the sweatshirt.

“Don’t you dare,” I snarl at her and she sits back.

“Jeremy…Hey! Jere,” I shake my head as he closes his eyes. 

Bonnie and Caroline rush up to us and Caroline gently sets me back so she can try to help Jeremy. I sit there with silent sobs as I watch Bonnie tell Caroline that Jeremy’s ring won't bring him back since the sheriff is human. 

Caroline bites into her wrist and places it onto Jeremy’s mouth, “Go on, Jeremy. Drink.”

“What are you doing,” The sheriff questions her daughter even though she is not the one who should be speaking at all right now. 

“I’m helping him.”

I sit there with tears in my eyes as Jeremy doesn’t wake up and I know it’s because he’s dead. The others must realize this too because they all sit back with sobs of their own. The sound of a door opening captures my attention and I look up to see Ric and Jenna staring over at us.

“Bonnie what’s wrong,” Ric asks as he and Jenna run over to us. As soon as they see Jeremy though they halt. Jenna instantly falls to her knees crying and I crawl over to her ignoring the shooting pain in my arm. I grab her into my arms and she instantly latches to me and sobs into my shoulder. 

“I know what I need to do,” Bonnie says aloud as she stands, “I need you to grab him. T-Take him with us.”

“No, no, no, no. You can’t move him. This is a crime scene,” Liz tries denying which has me wanting to smack her. Jeremy’s dead all because of a prejudice she has.

“Mom, just let them go,” Caroline tells her mother and Liz stands up so Ric can grab Jeremy’s body.

“Okay. Alright, come here, buddy. I got you,” Ric says and I hug Jenna tighter.

—-

Bonnie sits in front of us chanting over Jeremy’s body. Candles around us burn hotter as Bonnie shakes her head, “No.”

“What? What is it,” Ric asks.

“They’re angry at me for coming back here. They don’t wanna help.”

I shake my head in denial.

  “Well, they have to.”

Bonnie looks at Jeremy with tears in her eyes, “They said there’ll be consequences.”

“Well, he’s just a kid. Tell’em to shut up.”

Bonnie continues chanting and the witch house starts to shake.

“Emily! I know you’re there. Please help me. I love him.”

Jenna, Ric, and I watch in silent horror as everything stops and Jeremy is still lifeless. Bonnie cries holding him and Jenna crawls over to her dead nephew. 

I look down at Jeremy and let out a sob of relief as I see him flutter his eyes open. 

I sigh deeply as I watch Jenna and Bonnie hug Jeremy. 

“Y/N?”

I turn to Ric who is staring at my arm, I watch as he slowly lifts his fingers and touches my shirt. I fight the urge to groan in annoyance as I look at the fresh blood on his fingers. 

“Anyone want to take me to the hospital?”

—

“OK, so it appears you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” The doctor tells me as he tapes gauze over the gunshot wound on my shoulder. I have a gunshot wound. I was shot. What the hell?! Somehow the bullet that killed Jeremy went right through the upper part of my shoulder. 

Ric and Jenna had dropped me off about an hour ago. They insisted on staying, but I told them my mother would be here soon and they should get back to Jeremy. 

“We’re going to have to give you some blood. Do you happen to know what you’re blood type is? It appears that on your medical records, your mother and father’s blood types are listed but yours isn’t.”

I shake my head, “I’ve never had to get blood drawn before so I don’t know.” 

The doctor nods, “That’s fine. We would give you the universal donor blood but for some reason, we’ve had a shortage in blood lately,” I nod along as if I don’t know exactly why that is, “But we’ll take some of your blood and do a test then find out what your type is.”

I nod and thank him.

“We called your mother but it seems she can’t get out of work and your father didn’t answer. Is there anyone else you’d like to call to be with you?”

My heart hurts as I think about how both my parents couldn’t bother to come to see their own daughter in the hospital, “Um...no thank you. I’m alright.”

The doctor sends me a smile, but he looks almost as hurt about my parents not being here as I am. Tell me about it man. I watch silently as he takes a vial of my blood, tells me he’ll have my results soon, and then leaves. 

Great who the hell is going to drive me home?

—

I’m awoken by a small shake to my uninjured shoulder. I squint my eyes to see the doctor from before looking down at me wearily. 

At this, I try to sit up but waves of pain stop me.

“Don’t move sweetheart it’ll just rip open your stitches,” The doctor gently pushes me back down. But the look on his face makes me nervous.

“Is everything ok,” I question. 

The doctor is silent before he shows me a blood bag, “I was able to find a match for you, but… your blood type is Type B,” His tone and words confuse me. Wouldn’t he be relieved he was able to find me blood?

“I don’t understand,” I shake my head in confusion.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this without a parent present. I could be fired,” He says to himself as if he’s fighting some internal battle. 

“Please… what are you talking about?”

The doctor places a hand on my shoulder and frowns at me, “Your mother’s blood type is Type A, and your father’s is Type O,” At the confusion still clearly on my face he sighs, “Genetically those two blood types combinations can only produce Type A and O children. So…”

My entire world seems to come down crashing on top of me as he finishes his sentence.

“You can’t be related, biologically, to your father.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hey Jude

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: based off of 12x11, but you lose your memory instead of Dean.

You cried out in pain and surprise as the witch blew a strange dark powder into your face and you staggered back into the wall.

“Hey!” Dean turned suddenly when he heard your distress, and he lifted his gun and fired off three rounds of witch-killing bullets into the woman that hurt his little sister.

“You ok?” Sam asked, helping you straighten up and glancing down at the witch to make sure she was dead.

“Fine.” You shook yourself and did a once over—no extra limbs, no pain, nothing. “I’m fine. The witch is dead, so whatever she threw at me won’t work.”

“We should get going,” Dean said. “If you’re sure you’re ok.”

“I’m sure.”

…

“This place isn’t half bad,” you spoke up as the Impala pulled into a motel. Your brows drew together in confusion as Dean pulled up in front of a room. “Don’t we need to check in?”

“We’ve…been here for two days,” Sam said, turning in his seat and frowning at you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh…nothing,” you mumbled shyly, suddenly both confused and embarrassed. Why didn’t you remember? “Never mind.”

“I’m gonna give Rowena a call,” Sam said as the three of you entered your motel room. “She said there was a whole coven here, but we’ve only taken out two witches—maybe she can help us track down the rest.”

“Who?” You asked, trying to wrap your brain around the name, familiar yet somehow foreign—was it another hunter?

“Rowena…” Dean said, seemingly baffled by your question. “Red head witch? Irish, or Scottish, or whatever?” Dean goggled at you, but you just stared back blankly. “Seriously, are you joking?”

“No…” you were confused. Clearly your brothers couldn’t know this “Rowena” too well, otherwise you would remember her. So why did Dean care so much if you did? “Am I supposed to know her?”

“We saw her just last week,” Sam said, watching you carefully. “You know, Crowley’s mother?”

“Crowley?” This name felt more familiar to you, but still you couldn’t quite grasp it. “Crowley…” you mumbled again, as if repeating it would somehow bring a face to mind.

“Now I know you’re kidding,” Dean scoffed, although he didn’t look convinced.

“I don’t understand,” you said, looking from Sam to Dean and back again.

“You know Crowley,” Sam said. “You know Rowena, too. Why can’t—“ Sam’s eyes widened suddenly in horror. “That…that stuff the witch threw at you.”

“You mean Rowena?” You remembered that Sam—or was it Dean?—has just said that Rowena was a witch.

“What? No,” Dean said to you before turning to Sam. “What about it? You think maybe it messed with her memory? Made her forget about witches, or something?”

“That doesn’t explain why she forgot Crowley,” Sam countered. “Maybe it’s made her forget the supernatural world.”

“Supernatural,” you spoke up, desperate to prove that you hadn’t forgotten. “Like ghosts. We hunt ghosts. I haven’t forgotten, see?”

Dean’s brows crinkled in confusion.

“Then I don’t understand…”

“Let’s call Rowena,” Sam suggested. “She’ll know what this is.”

…

“Oh dear,” Rowena’s sigh of disappointment got the attention of the Winchester brothers; however, you were distracted playing with Dean’s gun on his bed.

“What is it?” Dean demanded.

“It’s definitely a memory spell.” Rowena sighed again. “This spell…it will make her memory fade piece by piece, until she can’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” Sam asked.

“Anything. Not you, not even herself. Soon enough she’ll forget how to eat, how to…how to breathe. And then…” Rowena let her voice trail off, her point having been made.

“Ok, then fix it,” Dean insisted.

“It’s not that simple. I need the grimoire—the spell book used to make that powder—if I’m going to be able to undo it.”

“And how are we supposed to find that?” Dean growled.

“It’ll be with the rest of the coven,” Rowena said confidently. “You said you only got two witches, right? A coven must be at least three. Any remaining will have the grimoire.”

“Is this thing loaded?” Dean whirled around to see you pointing his gun straight up at your own eye.

“Hey, hey!” He yelled, rushing to you and yanking the gun from your hands. “That is not a toy!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your gaze going from Dean to Rowena. “You’re our witch friend, right?”

“I…suppose,” Rowena said slowly.

“Cool!” You exclaimed, jumping off Dean’s bed and going straight for Rowena’s bag. “Is this your witch bag? Do you have cool stuff in here?”

“Hey now!” Rowena grabbed your arms and pulled them out of her bag. “Stay out of that, you’ll set off a curse or something!” Rowena took one look at your pouting face and sighed, reaching into her bag. “Here,” she said, coming out with a voodoo doll. “Play with this.”

“Wait, is that gonna hurt someone?” Dean spoke up.

“She’s fine,” Rowena insisted, waving her hand dismissively as you returned to Dean’s bed, examining the doll with a grin. “Now, we need to find that coven.”

…

“We can’t just leave her here alone,” Sam hissed as Dean packed his bag for the hunt.

“Well we’re not going to take her with us,” Dean countered.

“Are you going somewhere?” You spoke up suddenly.

“We’ve gotta take out that witch,” Dean said.

“What witch?” You asked. The brothers ignored you.

“Look, she’ll be fine for just a few hours,” Dean told Sam. “And when we’re back, Rowena can break the curse.”

“Whose curse?” You asked. “Are you cursed?”

“Alright. Let’s go.” Sam sighed.

He and Dean headed for the door, but both stopped when you grabbed onto Sam’s arm.

“We’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Don’t,” you pleaded. “Please don’t. I’m—I’m forgetting everything…and I don’t want to forget you. If you go, I’ll forget.”

“Hey, that’s not gonna happen,” Dean spoke up. “We’re gonna break this curse, and you’ll be ok.”

You still looked scared and unconvinced, so Dean continued.

“I want you to do something for me. Just keep repeating the most important things to yourself—it’ll help.”

“Ok…” you said slowly, then froze as you wondered where to start.

“Start small,” Dean instructed.

“My…my name is Y/N.” You glanced at Dean, then Sam. “Sam and Dean are my brothers. Rowena…is our witch friend. Castiel is our angel friend. My dad is John Winchester.”

“You’re doing great,” Sam insisted. “If you keep doing that, you won’t forget us.”

You didn’t think that that was how the curse worked, but you couldn’t honestly remember. You would have to take De—no, Sam’s—word for it.

“Are you sure?” Your voice faded to a whisper as Sam and Dean walked out the door before you had even started the question. You took a deep breathe, steeling yourself. “Ok. My name…my name is Y/N Winchester…”

…

“Well that was a bust,” Dean groaned as he pulled the Impala back into the motel. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just head to the next possible location?”

“I want to check on her,” Sam insisted. “I don’t want her to be scared.”

Dean didn’t respond, he just parked the Impala and led the way into the room. The boys hadn’t taken two steps into the room before Sam caught sight of you ducking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind you.

“Y/N?” Dean called out. “Sweetheart, are you ok?”

Silence greeted his question.

“Y/N?” Sam knocked on the door. “Please answer me.”

“Go away!” Your voice was tight and squeaky, even through the door.

“Kiddo it’s us,” Sam assured you.

“How-how do you know my name?” There was more confusion in your voice than fear now.

“Y/N—“ Dean’s voice stuck, and he cleared his throat. “It’s us, it’s your brothers. You know us, remember?”

The lock clicked on the bathroom door, and Dean could see half of your face as you peered up at him. After a moment, you swung the door open all the way, but you remained in the doorway hesitantly.

“I know you,” you mumbled. Dean held his breath as you stared first at him, then Sam. “My…brothers…” you were rubbing your arm now, anxiously glancing at your brothers as you wracked your brain for more information. “You’re…you’re S-S…D…” you were breathing hard now, terrified that you couldn’t remember their names. “I-I know it, I know who you are, I know it!”

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“No, no, I know it,” you insisted. “I know this, I-I have to know this.”

“It’s…it’s ok if you don’t remember,” Dean spoke up. “We’re here, we can help you.”

“No, it’s not ok!” Your outburst startled the boys, but they didn’t show it. “It’s not ok, I have to know this! You-you’re my big brothers, and I have to remember you!”

“Commere.” Sam couldn’t stand to see you start to cry, so he pulled you into his arms. “It’s gonna be ok…we’re going to fix this, we are.”

“I-I have to…I remember, I have to…” you were babbling almost incoherently. Sam looked at Dean over your shoulder, and they shared a moment of painful panic before Dean spoke.

“I’m gonna get us some food.” And he rushed out the door.

Sam stayed with you for several minutes before you slowly disentangled yourself from him.

“I can’t remember,” you whimpered.

“I…I know.” Sam sighed. He was about to speak again when he spotted the Impala out of the corner of his eye through the window—Dean was sitting inside, not moving; he hadn’t left. “Um…I’m gonna go talk to him.” Sam started for the door, but you stopped him.

“Let me,” you said. “I…I want to.”

So Sam stood back as you went to comfort your brother whose name you couldn’t remember.

…

He just needed a minute. He would go out, get food, come back, and be ready to help you again but he just needed a minute.

He turned on the radio, cursing himself for it a moment later when Hey Jude started playing. He reached up to turn it off—it was just too painful to hear this, your favorite song—but he stopped when your favorite part started playing.

“And any time you feel the pain,

Hey Jude, refrain

Don’t carry the world upon your shoulder.”

The words brought back a thousand memories, a thousand little moments between you and Dean that he knew he would remember forever. A few precious moments stood out above the rest—

…

“Hey little sister.” The first words Dean ever said to you. You were just a toddler, crying in the doorway of a filthy motel room while you watched your mother—some random hookup of John’s who’d gotten sick of taking care of a kid—drive away. She’d stayed long enough to hear that Dean was John’s son, then she’d snapped, “This is for him,” and shoved her daughter forward before rushing to her car.

You were utterly inconsolable, sobbing until your face was bright red and you could barely breathe. If Dean didn’t calm you down quickly, you might pass out, crying yourself into exhaustion.

“Hey Jude…” Dean had barely even made the decision to start singing before Hey Jude came to his head—the song his mother used to calm him down. “Don’t make it bad

Take a sad song and make it better…”

…

Dean would’ve done anything—anything—to undo the last ten minutes. He wanted to go back and change it all, to tell you a different story, to say “monsters aren’t real, they’re just stories, and of course dad doesn’t fight monsters, of course he’s not in danger, of course he’ll come home.”

But he couldn’t.

You were scared now. Maybe you always would be, in some capacity. You would always carry that little voice inside that said—“there are monsters out there, and they want you dead.”

Dean hadn’t wanted to tell you. Why did you have to be so curious? Why did you have so many questions, questions that you demanded answers for?

You were crying now; sitting by the motel window, waiting for dad to show up, and you were crying. Dean had done this—he’d made you so scared that you cried by the window, hoping that dad was coming home.

You flinched when the wind banged a tree against the window, and Dean decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He sat beside you, and you latched onto his arm instantly, leaning on him for support. Dean did the only thing he could think of—

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid…”

…

Dean’s memories retreated to the back of his mind when the Impala door opened and you climbed in. He stopped his gentle singing—he hadn’t even realized he was doing it—when you turned to look at him. He looked from your eyes to the radio, almost as if he were begging you to remember—not just the song, but everything it meant to both of you. You just blinked up at him with that blank expression that had been haunting Dean since you started to forget.

“I don’t want you to be sad,” you whispered. Dean smiled painfully.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“But I know that I care about you.”

Dean’s breath hitched.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, little sister. I’m gonna fix you, I promise.”

“But what if you can’t? I still don’t want you to be sad.”

Dean was struggling to hold onto his resolve—to his strength.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

The both of you lapsed into silence, the closing notes of Hey Jude still playing.

“I like this song,” you said quietly. “It sounds nice.”

Dean clenched his jaw tightly to keep his lips from quivering.

“Kid, please go back to Sammy.”

“Sammy,” you mumbled to yourself, as if trying to put a face to the name. Dean’s fists clenched as he blinked rapidly.

“That room-“ he pointed- “go knock. Sam is in there, he’ll take care of you while I get us some food.”

You stared at Dean for a long moment; he knew that you were worried about him, but the blank expression on your face hurt more than he could take.

“Sweetheart, go. I need you to…please. Please go.”

You left without another word.

…

“I found it.” Rowena’s outburst came just after you swallowed the last of your fries—Sam and Dean had barely picked at their food, but you had forgotten so much that you were no longer sure what they were worried about, so you felt fine.

“Found what?” Dean demanded.

“The coven. I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place for a witch to hide. You take the last remaining in the coven out and get me their grimoire, and that curse will be gone before we know it.”

“What about her?” Sam’s eyes darted to you before looking back at Dean. “I don’t think she should be alone, she’s forgetting more and more.”

You glanced behind you to make sure he had looked at you, and not someone else. Dean noticed this and sighed.

“We don’t have much choice.” Dean stepped over to the tv and switched it on. “Commere Y/N.” He had to stare at you for several seconds before you realized that that was your name.

You jumped up off the chair and went to sit on Dean’s bed so you could get a good view of the tv.

“Ok, sit here and watch this,” Dean instructed, gesturing to the cartoon playing. “Don’t move, don’t leave, ok?”

“Why can’t I go?” You wondered.

“Do you know what we’re doing?” Dean asked. You pondered this.

“Witches…covens…your lumberjack outfits…a Halloween party?” You guessed.

Dean glanced down at his red flannel, seemingly offended, before he waved it off in annoyance.

“Yeah, you’re definitely staying here.”

“Well can I play with this then?” All three turned to see you with a—quite possibly cursed—dagger that you had somehow gotten from Rowena’s bag, along with a—definitely cursed—witches’ spell book.

“Hey now!” Rowena cried out, snatching both items from you. “How many times do I have to tell you, my things are not toys!”

You ignored this loud outburst and instead stared at Rowena as if you had never seen her.

“I like your dress,” you said suddenly. “It’s so…it’s like a queen’s dress.”

“Why…thank you,” she said with a sudden smile. “I think I like you better this way.”

“Rowena.” Dean grumbled.

“Yes yes alright,” she huffed. “Let’s go.”

…

The witches were surprisingly easy to kill, but when Rowena went to use their grimoire, Sam stopped her.

“How long will this spell take?” He asked.

“Maybe an hour.”

“I want to do it back at the hotel,” Sam insisted.

“It’s faster to—“ Dean began, but Sam interrupted.

“She’s gotta be terrified right now, with how much she’s forgetting so quickly. I want to be there for her, I want her to know that we’re fixing this.”

“It’s not far,” Rowena said, taking Sam’s side. “Let’s go.”

…

You were much harder to coax out of the bathroom this time, and even when you were sitting on Dean’s bed with a brother on either side of you while Rowena worked on the spell, you looked unconvinced.

Sam was trying to calm your nerves by showing you pictures and telling you names and facts.

“And this, this is Bobby—“ he’d shown you Bobby’s picture at least three times, but your short term memory kept getting worse, so you didn’t notice.

“Um…” Sam stopped talking when you started, but you didn’t get far before your face screwed up, and Sam knew you were trying to remember his name.

“Sam,” he supplied, hating to see you in distress.

“Sam,” you said with a breath of relief. “I just…I for-I forgot, what’s…what’s my name?”

Sam barely heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath over his own shattering heart.

“It’s…you’re—“

“Y/N.”

Sam was confused when you answered your own question, until he looked from you to Rowena, who wore a triumphant smile.

“Did you—does she—“

“Sam.” The wide grin on your face was unmistakable, as was the spark in your eye. “Dean.”

“Oh kid,” Dean breathed, wrapping you in his arms a split second before Sam could. Sam didn’t care though—he grabbed both his siblings in a group hug that had Rowena rolling her eyes, although the smile never left her face.

“You’re back.” Sam grinned.

“Did you ever doubt it?” You questioned with a laugh.

“I admit, a few moments gave me pause,” Sam chuckled.

“Didn’t doubt it for a second,” Dean insisted. “I knew you’d come back to us.”

“Well I’m sure that that would’ve comforted me—if I coulda remembered your name.”

You knew Dean was gonna throw that pillow at you before he’d even grabbed it—you didn’t need your memories to tell you that.

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