#also i’m still not over how martin got to be a good dad for like 5 seconds before getting killed 😭

[pherredraws]

interdimensional familial relationships

#adventure time #fionna and cake #fionna campbell #finn mertens #sometimes you’re just a lil buy being raised by your own son a female version of yourself and a sentient tank #also i’m still not over how martin got to be a good dad for like 5 seconds before getting killed 😭 #thats her dad kinda!!!! and she doesn’t even know #i am deeply curious how the fem!martin situation is though. and male!minerva also #boy* dammit

[fandomnsfw]

Doll House - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Prompt: Doll House by Melanie Martinez

Warning: None really...a little blood I guess? Mainly Fluff

Thank you to my Beta @lets-imagine-fanfics once again for fixing my screw ups! XD

ENJOY!!

******

You walked into the school, a smile firmly placed on your face as the girls spoke about their weekend. Jenny was talking about her date with Mark while Anna was laughing about something Hayley had said. You spotted your brother across the hall and waved as the girls started swooning over him.  

“Hey, big bro. How was practice?” You asked with a sweet smile.  

“It was good. Hey, what time is mom co-”  

“Yo, Xavier, you forgot your phone!” You heard a voice exclaim as he spluttered out the changing room.  

“Thanks, Stilinski.” Your brother laughed before pocketing his phone.  

“Hi Y/N.” Stiles muttered with a grin.  

“Hi, Stiles.” You giggled as he ran his hands through his hair which was still wet, from what you guessed was the showers. You walked off with the other girls who instantly started gossiping about your brother.  

“I dunno about Xavier but Stiles got hot recently.” Anna sighed, fanning herself before bursting into a fit of laughter along with the other girls.  

“Anna’s right, Stilinski buffed up and grew his hair out. He looked like the perfect guy, I mean if you get rid of the spazziness.” Jenny snorted, as she flipped her hair over her shoulder.  

“I gotta go grab something from my car before class, I’ll see you later!” You exclaimed cheerfully before making your way to your car.  

You took out a packet of cigarettes lighting one up before taking a much-needed drag. You felt yourself instantly relax. It wasn’t like you hated your friend it’s just they were very superficial and you had enough superficial people in your life to know that you’d never have true friends as long as you kept them around. You glanced at your phone as you took another drag from the cigarette.  

Mom - ‘Going out tonight won’t be back till late. Use the credit card to eat out.’  

Dad – ‘Working late tonight.’  

You snorted as you read your parent’s texts before throwing your phone into your Prada handbag. As you took another drag you heard someone speak from behind you.  

“You know that’s bad for you right?” You’d recognise that voice anywhere. That voice was attached to the man you’d fantasised about on a regular basis. Stiles Stilinski.  

“You know it’s rude to pry right?” You snarled as you took another drag.  

“Oh, so now that your friends and brother aren’t round you show your true colours.” He snorted sarcastically.  

“No, more like I don’t feel the need to act like a fake Barbie doll now my friends aren’t around.” You sighed as crouched down.  

“I used to know someone like you.” He chuckled, as he squatted down in front of you.  

“Lydia Martin.” You huffed with a laugh.  

“The love of Stiles Stilinski’s life.” You added sarcastically.  

“Oh, so you heard about that?” Stiles laughed, running his hands through his slowly drying hair.  

“Everyone knows. It’s also like everyone knows not to touch Lydia now because it’s like a written law that you two will end up together. Small town. People gossip.” You scoffed irritably.  

“Lydia’s in love with someone else. I’m over her. We’re friends. I know you were dating Kieran and everyone kept saying you two were the perfect couple that you’d marry each other straight outta high school but last week you broke up.” Stiles retaliated softly with a sad smile.  

“He didn’t know the real me. Seemed cruel to keep leading him on.” You muttered with a frown as you thought about your parent’s marriage.  

To everyone in this town your family was perfect and rich but behind closed curtains, your entire family was fucked. Your brother smoked weed constantly, your mother was an alcoholic and your father was a cheating piece of shit that brought his mistresses home.  

It’s not a family if you have to pretend.  

“You’re different from what I thought.” Stiles whispered, more to himself than you.  

“Why? Because I’m not perfect?” You huffed with a dark laugh.  

“No. You seem less…Doll-like…I feel like when I see you I’m staring at a fragile doll-like if I touch you or stare too long you’ll break.” Stiles sighs sadly, causing you to stare at him in shock. He hit the nail on the head. You put out your cigarette before glancing up at him with a sad smile.  

“Sometimes the things that go on behind closed doors are things that have to be hidden for the sake of the family.” You replied the words taken from something your mother once told you.  

“If you can’t be true to yourself then you’re not living. You’re just breathing.” Stiles shot you a sympathetic smile that should have pissed you off but somehow it made you smile back.  

“My mom drinks…” You started as you stared at the ground.  

“She does it to forget my dad’s infidelity.” You laughed your tone dark and hateful.  

“That’s fucked up, dude.” Stiles huffed angrily.  

“You’re telling me…My brother started smoking weed last year to deal with it but now it’s like half the time I see him…He’s fucking stoned out his mind.” You whispered, the pain now evident in your voice.  

“I’m the first person you’ve told about this aren’t I?” Stiles muttered as he stood up, holding his hand out so he could help you up.  

“Yeah. I’ve seen you with your friends…You’re loyal. I feel like I can trust you.” You stated as you stared into his eyes looking for any sign you’d just fucked up by telling another person about your fake family.  

“I won’t tell a soul.” Stiles chuckled a big grin on his face.  

“Thanks, Stiles. You’re lucky to have friends and a dad like the Sheriff.” You commented shyly.  

“You know my dad?” Stiles commented confusion in his voice.  

“Yeah, he’s brought back my brother stoned or drunk a few times. Your dad never books him for it because I have a feeling he has an idea what goes on behind closed doors. He’s a good man.” You muttered softly as you remembered the conversation you had with the Sheriff.  

“Thanks. I think so too.” Stiles huffed proudly. You giggled at his expression before walking off.  

“Bye Stilinski!” You chuckled over your shoulder earning an excitable wave from the boy in return.  

Over the next few weeks you hung out with Stiles after school, occasionally some days he couldn’t come due to plans with his friends but if he couldn’t hang he’d text you constantly. You’d grown closer and it made you happy to be able to talk to someone about your problems.  

You got out of your car grabbing your white leather Chanel handbag before spotting Stiles’ jeep pull up. You looked around to check that your friends or brother weren’t about before running up to him and jumping on his back, not realising Scott was at the other side of the car.  

“Good morning Sti.” You giggled as you kissed his cheek.  

“Good morning princess.” He retorted sarcastically before glancing at Scott who was now staring with wide eyes.  

“Stiles, why is Xavier’s baby sister kissing you?” Scott muttered making you now very aware of his presence.  

“I-I only kissed his cheek I m-mean…It’s not l-like I…ya know.” You stuttered nervously as you looked around to check no one else had noticed the display.  

“Hey, Y/N, breath he’s just shocked. He doesn’t care.” Stiles chuckled softly as he ruffled your hair, earning a glare from you as you fixed your hair.  

“No, I don’t mind, just wondered. I didn’t realise you two were friends…Wait! Is this the girls you’ve been texting constantly, that’s had you smiling every 5 seconds.” Scott laughed as he pointed at Stiles with an amused face.  

“No!” Stiles shouted quickly.  

“No!?” You snapped angrily as you glared at him.  

“I mean yes!” Stiles corrected earning an eye roll from both you and Scott.  

“How come you never talk in school?” Scott asked causing you to freeze.  

“I didn’t wanna drag her down to my nerd depths.” Stiles chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.  

“Scott’s right, we should talk in school too!” You exclaimed as your heart started thumping nervously.  

“Y/N, you don’t have to-”  

“No, come on you can walk me to my locker!” You giggled plastering a fake smile on your face which you were sure Stiles could decipher by now. You linked arms with him and began walking towards the school.  

“Ha! No.” Stiles shook his arm out of yours shocking you and Scott.  

“I am not walking in there linking arms. I’ll look like your new gay bestie!” Stiles exclaimed dramatically causing you and Scott to burst out laughing. He threw his arm over your shoulder with a grin.  

“And walking in like you’re my new Bae is better?” You snorted as you wrapped your arm around his waist.  

“Don’t ever say Bae again or I’ll disown you but yes it's better.” Stiles laughed sarcastically, earning a slap to his chest from you.  

“I’d rather you really were my boyfriend but ya know.” You muttered under your breath.  

You walked into school with Stiles’ arm slung around you and it took all of 5 seconds before the whispers started. You kept your head up knowing if you lowered it, people would think you had something to be ashamed of.  

Scott glanced at you with wide eyes as if asking if you were okay but you just sent him a smile. He walked you to your locker where your friends were waiting. He gave you a hug before kissing your forehead.  

“Laters, princess.” He chuckled as you shot him a heart-warming smile.  

“Bye.” You whispered shyly and once he was gone the hyenas were on you so fast, you almost didn’t even see them move.  

“You’re dating Stiles!?” Jenny whisper yelled with wide eyes.  

“No.” You muttered quietly wishing you could say yes.  

“Then why did he call you princess and kiss you!?” Anna questioned angrily.  

“He’s a friend of mine.” You answered sweetly, trying to stop yourself from strangling each and every one of them. You ignore the rest of the questions and head to class as you took deep breaths and tried to calm down.  

When lunch came around you were worn out from all the questions from other students had been asking, so when lunch came around you went to the cafeteria and took your food to Stiles’ table. You looked around the table seeing no chairs so you just sat on Stiles’ knee. He made no comment as you started eating your lunch but you could see every one of his friend staring at you.  

“Why is Xavier’s sister sitting at our table?” Liam asked quietly.  

“I have a name too, Dunbar.” You huffed angrily as you shot him a frown.  

“Y/N, right?” Lydia asked sassily.  

“Yes, Lydia.” You answered just as sassily.  

“Woah! What happened to make you all pissy?” Stiles asked as he looked into your eyes.  

“Nothing.” You sighed as you looked away from his intense gaze.  

“Oh no, we’re not doing this again, princess. Tell me.” Stiles sighed his brow furrowing slightly.  

“I’ve been hounded none stop since this morning and I really want a smoke but I promised you I wouldn’t.” You pouted as you glanced at him briefly. Stiles nodded before picking up a fry and holding it to your lips without any more questions.  

“My question is why is she sat on Stiles’ knee?” Malia growled causing you to freeze. You remembered her and Stiles dating for a while but you were sure they’d broken up. Maybe you’d been wrong.  

“Why does that matter?” Jackson huffed obnoxiously.  

“There were no seats and Stiles is single and obviously her friend.” Ethan added earning a nod from Scott.  

You tried not to smile so you shoved another chip in your mouth. Stiles tucked your hair behind your ear sweetly before holding out his water bottle for you. You took it with a thank you before taking a sip. The rest of lunch went like this, though I could tell his friends felt a little awkward. Stiles reassured you they just had to get used to you.  

After you walked to your locker with him, he placed his hand to the side of your head against the locker. You glanced at him in suspicion before he leaned in and whispered in your ear.  

“Your girlfriends are staring from behind their books.” Stiles chuckled against your ear, sending shiver straight down your spine.  

“What, so you thought you’d make my life harder to explain by making it look like your whispering dirty shit in my ear.” You whispered back, purposely brushing your lips against his ear. He pulled back biting his lower lip to try and hide his smile.  

“I mean if you’d like me to make it easier I could totally whisper dirty things in your ear?” Stiles stated with a smirk. You let out a little snort even though you knew your cheeks were likely red but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

The rest of the day was filled with more questions and gossip but after spending lunchtime with Stiles you didn’t care. You head was filled with thoughts of him. Stiles had asked if you wanted to have dinner at his but you’d yet to go to Stiles’ house and you were honestly nervous. Would his dad be home? Would his dad like you even though he’d basically arrested your brother more times than you could count?  

At the end of the day, you followed Stiles home in your car with a nauseous feeling in your stomach from nerves but you ignored it as you pulled up and got out with your handbag. Stiles slung his arm over your shoulder which made you laugh remembering earlier in the day.  

You walked into his house following him to what turned out to be the kitchen. He grabbed two soda’s passing you one silently before his dad walked into the kitchen clearly shocked to see you in his kitchen drinking soda.  

“Hi, Y/N.” The Sheriff greeted with a small smile.  

“Hi, Sheriff.” You greeted politely, which made his smile widen.  

“Please call me Noah. I didn’t know you and Stiles were friends?” He questioned as he pulled out a bottle of water.  

“It’s a new development.” You laughed as Stiles looked between you and his dad quietly.  

“Oh, are you the new girl my son has been goi-”  

“Okaaaaay! That’s enough of that pops.” Stiles exclaimed with a glare.  

“Well, it’s good to see Stiles dating again.” The Sheriff huffed with a proud smile.  

“Oh, we’re not dating!” You squeaked with a blush.  

“God, no need to sound so offended.” Stiles snorted sarcastically.  

“The whole school thinks we’re dating if I was offended I’d correct them.” You replied, sticking out your tongue childishly.  

“Why does the whole school think your dating?” The Sheriff asked with a raised brow.  

“Cos Stiles put his arm over my shoulder when we went into school today, then at lunch he p-”  

“THAT’S ENOUGH OF THAT!” Stiles shouted rather loudly causing you to jump.  

“Well, that sounds like an eventfully day.” The Sheriff chuckled you nodded cheerfully as he started asking about the rest of your day.  

You sat in the living room with the Sheriff while Stiles made tea. His words were fatherly and caring which made you smile down at your lap happily. He asked about your brother which you awkwardly answered but he didn’t judge you or bring it up after that.  

“So, you like my son?” The Sheriff questioned as he stared at you over his coffee.  

“W-What?” You squealed a blush making its way to your face for what felt like the millionth time that day.  

“He may be blind but I’m not.” The Sheriff chuckled causing you to laugh.  

“Yeah…He’s sweet and he accepts me for who I am even though my family is screwed up. He’s very affectionate too.” You giggle as you remember all the forehead kisses and hugs he’s given you.  

“It appears you’re just as blind as my son.” The Sheriff mumbled making your eyes widen as if you’d miss heard it.  

“Pardon?” You asked politely.  

“Nothing, anyway Stiles should be done soon why don’t we go and sit in the dining room?” The Sheriff asked with a smile. You gave him a nod and followed after him.  

You sat down at the table with the Sheriff as Stiles served up lasagne. After he’d done he stroked your hair. You looked up at him and he kissed your forehead quickly before sitting down. You smiled happily as you dug into the food. Stiles cooking was beyond amazing, which honestly didn’t shock you because you knew his dad worked a lot and his mom wasn’t around so you figured Stiles knew how to cook.  

“This is really good!” He exclaimed with a giggle.  

“It’s my mom’s recipe she taught me how to make it.” Stiles muttered with a smile. You leant over and ran your fingers through his hair before caressing his cheek with your thumb. He glanced over at you with a grin and nodded to you letting you know he’s was fine.  

“You two are so sweet!” You heard a female voice come from behind you. You turned round to see Scott and Mrs McCall stood there.  

“Mrs McCall!” You giggled as you ran over to give her a hug.  

“Hi, sweetie. I didn’t know you and Stiles had started dating.” You let out a dramatic whine as the Sheriff and Stiles started laughing.  

“How do you know my mom?” Scott asked as he sat down with a plate of lasagne.  

“Ermm well…” You flushed as you awkwardly pushed your food around.  

“Y/N wants to be a nurse when she gets older.” Mrs McCall supplied while wiping sauce off the Sheriff's cheek causing him to grin.  

“Really? You never told me that.” Stiles gasped as he reached out to hold your hand.  

“This town is kinda accident prone so I want to be able to help people.” You giggled but for some reason everyone froze, causing you to frown. You felt like there was something you should know but you decided to leave it for now and ask Stiles later.  

A few seconds later there was a knock at the door you stood telling them you’d get it but what stood at the door shocked you to your core. There stood Jackson and Ethan holding a bleeding man that looked vaguely familiar.  

“Oh my god! Get him in here!” You screamed urgently.  

“Stiles, can you get me warm water, alcohol and a towel please!” You screamed as they laid the man down on the couch.  

“Wh- OH MY GOD, DEREK!” Stiles screamed as he ran up to the man.  

“STILES TOWEL, WATER, ALCOHOL GO!” You screamed as you ripped off Derek’s shirt seeing several slash wounds it looked like an animal had mauled him.  

“MELISSA, I NEED YOUR HELP!” You screamed as you took off your cardigan and held it to the worst wound. Melissa ran in with Stiles following. You took the towel and water before cleaning most of the blood when you’d done you grabbed the alcohol and looked up at Jackson and Scott.  

“Hold him down.” Was all you needed to say before you began cleaning the wounds with alcohol the man thrashed around and roared but right now the fact that this man had glowing blue eyes wasn’t a problem or something you could get scared of, right now you needed to stop his bleeding.  

“Ethan, hold his legs.” You screamed as his legs started kicking around.  

“Melissa, hold this for now.” You said pointing to the cardigan on the vastly bleeding cut.  

“I need you to tell me how to help him. He’s obviously not human and right now I have no idea whether I should call an ambulance or wait.” You sighed as you looked at Stiles.  

“Werewolf. He’ll heal fast.” Stiles muttered but instead of questioning you nodded and turned to the Sheriff.  

“I need a needle, lighter and thread. Even if he heals faster, it’s not going to stop bleeding until I close it.” You stated softly before turning to Melissa.  

“I think we should stitch this one then bandage his torso just until the bleeding stops.” You muttered softly as if asking for her approval.  

“Well done, Y/N.” She muttered in a soft motherly tone that made you smile.  

After Melissa stitched him up and bandaged him, Derek passed out. You picked up the remaining vodka and took a swing earning a raised eyebrow from the Sheriff. You stood up and crossed your arms.  

“I just tended to a bleeding dying man who turned out to be a werewolf. I think I deserve it.” You sighed before turning to Stiles.  

“Explain. Now.” You snapped angrily. You weren’t angry because Stiles associated with werewolves you were angry because he didn’t tell you. You had thought he trusted you.  

“That is Derek Hale. He’s a werewolf.” He stated simply with an awkward smile.  

“That much I already figured out myself, thanks. How many of your friends are wolves?” You sighed knowing that going back a few years Stiles wouldn’t have been seen dead with Jackson but now it was like they had mutual trust.  

“That’s not my secret to tell.” Stiles sighed softly.  

“Scott, your one right?” You questioned as you turned to him.  

“How?”  

“My brother has been playing lacrosse with you since freshmen year. You don’t think I noticed when you went from asthmatic and benched to first line with perfect health and reflexes?” You snorted before turning to Jackson and Ethan.  

“Ethan and his brother turned up when people started dying last year. I’m gonna go with your one and Jackson…You and Stiles used to hate each other and now you seem to have this weird mutual understanding. So I’m gonna go with you too. So that leaves you.” You pointed to Stiles.  

“What, you can’t suss me out?” Stiles chuckled with his arms crossed.  

“No, I can’t.” You muttered angrily as you glanced at Melissa you way wiping away Derek’s sweat.  

“Derek Hale. Cora Hales big brother and has an Uncle called Peter. The family died in a fire 12 years ago.” You muttered as you stared at the man.  

“How do you know that?” Stiles asked suspiciously.  

“Laura used to babysit me…” You whispered sadly as you remembered hearing about her death nearly 2 years ago.  

“Derek probably doesn’t remember me. We only met once or twice.” You snorted as you remembered the huge crush you used to have on him.  

“I used to have a huge crush on him. He’s grown a lot since I saw him so I didn’t recognise him until you said his name.” You muttered as you remembered all the times Laura teased you.  

“Why does everyone seem to like Derek Hale!?” Stiles grumbled childishly.  

“Because he’s hot.” You, Melissa, Ethan and Jackson said at the same time.  

“Objectifying a man while he’s passed out from blood loss. Classy, Y/N.” You heard a gruff voice mumbled. You looked down to see Derek with one eye open.  

“I was taught by the best.” You chuckled before you felt an arm wrap around you. You looked to see Stiles glaring at Derek who raised an eyebrow at you.  

“No, we’re not dating!” You snapped at him but he sent you a smirk.  

“Shut up, I don’t need your opinionated facial expressions, Hale.” You huffed as Stiles snorted next to you, before kissing your temple affectionately  

“You grew up.” Derek huffed  

“I feel old.” He added making you laugh.  

“So who runs the pack?” You asked softly as you glanced at Stiles. Stiles raised an eyebrow at you as if asking how you’d know that a pack needs a leader.  

“I read a lot of werewolf romance novels, okay? Don’t judge me!” You huffed with a blush as everyone laughed at you.  

“That would be me.” Scott chuckled but his answer had your jaw hitting the floor.  

“Scott McCall is an Alpha?” You gasped.  

Months after finding out you’d been accepted into the pack as another human member. You had settled in with everyone else, you finally stopped caring about fake friends and pretending to be someone else.  

You were currently sat at a pack meeting with Scott talking away about a pack that had asked permission to pass through. You’d zoned out to stare at Stiles who was sat next to Scott with a serious expression. He ran his hands through his hair before biting his lip in what looked to be stressed out manner.  

Once the meeting was over you grabbed yourself a water from Derek’s kitchen with a sigh. You wanted to tell Stiles how you felt but you had no idea how. Maybe you should just kiss him? Or jump his bones?  

You laughed at the thought, earning a raised eyebrow from Derek who had come to put the coffee pot on. You shot him a grin before skipping back to the living room. The pack were setting up a film so you sought out Stiles, spotting him sat in the corner of one of the couches.  

You sat on his knee then looked up at him with a smile which he returned. You decided while the pack was busy you’d make your move. You leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before turning to the film with a blush creeping up your neck. However, as you finally started calming your heart, you were picked up.  

“We’ll be back in a minute.” Stile stated as he carried you to the kitchen bridal style.  

“Wanna tell me what just happened?” Stile asked seriously which honestly scared you.  

“I-I kissed you?” You supplied, though it came out more like a question.  

“Why?” He asked just as seriously as before.  

“Because I like you…if not m-more than th-that…” you stuttered your blush coming back tenfold. Just as you were about to get down Stiles cupped both your cheeks and planted a passionate kiss on your lips before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.  

“Thank god. I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” Stiles sighed before placing another kiss on your lips.  

“Would you do the honour of being my official girlfriend?” Stiles muttered with a small hopeful smile.  

“I would love to Sti.” You giggled happily.  

#Stiles #Stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x you #teen wolf #tw #teen wolf imagine #reader #reader insert #fluff

[via-the-cryptid]

Fun idea:

While living in the Treehouse, Snow Queen starts to mom Finn (And probably calls him Gunther? Who knows) because he is a kid, and she and Simon live there so obviously he has to be their son right? Now they are a family and Simon its never going to leave again.

Also Simon unwittingly starts to dad Finn around because he is Simon and he cant go around wthout adopting a child.

Finn feels a little weird because, while he already had Joshua and Margaret, these two are humans (Or in case of Betty, mostly human) and he doesnt know how to feel about it. His relationship with Simon could be extra awkward depending if the events of The Citadel already happened and Martin is already going around.

sir ma’am or mx you are a genius.

I’m thinking the Sugar Snow War takes place before Finn goes on his dad quest, so at this point he’s still under the impression that he’s the only human around… except for Simon, who they pulled out of an icicle a while ago and who they haven’t seen much of since he went to the Candy Kingdom. he used to visit a lot when he was in Wizard City, but after that he sort of went quiet. now he’s back, with the Snow Queen who’s utterly doting on him and seems very clingy, and with Marceline, who’s a mix of happy that her adoptive mom got her beloved back, and absolutely pissed that her ex tried to imprison said beloved for blackmail purposes and then went on to destroy her mom’s entire kingdom. Marceline leaves shortly after making sure that SQ and Simon will be good to stay at the treehouse (Jake said yes and what Jake says goes), but that just leaves them with Snow Queen, Simon, Finn, Jake, BMO, Shelby in the walls, and also Gunther, who keeps disappearing randomly (presumably to also be in the walls).

and then Finn comes down from i go stroom for breakfast the next morning, and Snow Queen has already set a place at the table for him next to the penguin and Simon is making pancakes, which is Weird, and Jake is already eating the pancakes, which isn’t as weird but it is a little odd that he’s not the one making them. apparently these two want to contribute to the household or something? Finn doesn’t really mind, the pancakes are good and Snow Queen is being pretty civil.

then it starts to get a little weirder.

she put snacks and a couple ice knives in his backpack before he went adventuring, ‘just in case’? she asked if he remembered his sword and said to have fun in the dungeon? she’s offering him life advice that is probably very illegal but not actually that bad? y’know what, maybe he will beset a wizard with penguins the next time they try to take his stuff. Magic Man has it coming, anyways.

it sort of reminds him of his mom — Jake’s mom first, but Finn’s mom, too. she’d done this sort of thing with a little less crazy and a little more sensibleness, but it’s the same gist anyways. it’s only when Snow Queen tries to fix his hair before putting his hat on him and calls him Gunther that he realises she’s trying to parent him.

and honestly, he doesn’t know that he’s really that opposed to it. sure, it’s kinda weird, but she’s not actually hurting anything. Simon’s been following her example to some degree, helping Finn with puzzles and artifacts, telling him about human stuff from the past, suggesting new tricks and games to try, but it doesn’t really feel like Joshua’s ‘tough love’. it’s something different, something Finn doesn’t really remember experiencing before — the closest thing he’s had to this is Jake, who’s definitely never been quite so parental about his worrying.

honestly, his only questions at this point are whether it would make Marceline his older sister if Snow Queen and Simon tried to adopt him (it would), and whether Jake is getting adopted too (he is).

(side note — Finn isn’t quite so messed up about Martin in this au because as soon as the events of the Citadel have played out, he walks himself straight over to the Snow Kingdom and lays on the floor until someone asks him what’s wrong, and then he gets to have Family Therapy with his third set of parents, since the first are half-unavailable and half-terrible, and the second are no longer around. He also gets to hold a penguin the entire time which is very therapeutic and does not leave him with the desire to rip Martin’s arm off.)

#adventure time #snow queen au #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof #petrigrof role swap #found family #finn the human #jake the dog #marceline abadeer #princess bubblegum #answered asks

[lexxlouuu]

How you get the Girl

Chapter 6: Off to the Races

Warnings: cyber bullying, cursing

redbullracing

Off to the races 🏎️🏎️

Tagged Earnhardt_Lily and maxverstappen1

Liked by addie_stewart95, dalejr, and 20,000 others

Username1: time to see if nepo baby can actually race 🙄

Username2: finally race week again

addie_stewart95: made the new friendship bracelet made just in time @Earnhardt_Lily 😅

Earnhardt_Lily: @addie_stewart95 already got mine on 🫠🫠 though boss man has to temporarily wear it while I’m vroom vrooming around the trackie track 😅

lucejohnson: I have both yours on 🫣 💙❤️🧡🖤 @addie_stewart95 @Earnhardt_Lily

Earnhardt_Lily

Came to the track and only found a max 🏎️ I’m not sure if I’m liking the new papaya in my life 🤪

tagged patricicooward addie_stewart95

Liked by maxverstappen1, dalejr, redbullracing and 3,000 others

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Interview Before the Race and Free Practices

Croft: Here we have Lando Norris from Mclaren, Charles Leclerc from Ferrari l, Fernando Alonso from Aston Martin, and Lily Earnhardt from Red Bull. Let’s start with the closest to me and make our way down the couch, so that’s you Lando. The question for all four of you is how do you feel about the upcoming race, season, and how does the car feel so far for you?

Lando: I feel pretty confident in the team. Oscar seems to be a good addition in the garage. It is always nice to get a chance to recharge the batteries over winter break, but I really am just happy to be back in the car and on the track.

Charles: The car seems to be well designed, obviously it was designed by Matteo last season and we have Fred in the drivers seat this season. So it is just getting a feel for the new car and change in the garage. It is different but still welcome and happy to see where it goes. I am just really looking forward to the new season and hope to have good pace and get on the podiums.

Fernando: Obviously it is a new car and a new team for me, but I am happy, still hungry for podiums. I am excited to race and get in the car on the track.

Lily: I feel pretty excited and just ready to get in the car and on the track just like everyone else. The car seems to feel nice, obviously it is a different feeling especially with the amount of g-force compared to the Penske car. But training over the winter really was helpful with that, I was constantly on the sims just preparing for the season. Just really overall excited to race against new drivers and on new tracks.

Croft: The next question is for Lando, Charles, and Fernando. How do you feel about having a female on the grid? Does it change anything to you as drivers personally?

Lando: I mean honestly the only change is that it’s a new face in a Red Bull. I honestly don’t mind it. I think it will be an exciting and positive change for the sport and a step towards the future.

Charles: Uhh like Lando said it does not really change anything. We are all competitors regardless of gender. Just a new face to the grid.

Fernando: I was able to watch Lily race the past few years as a fan of the Indy Car series. She is good and is capable behind the wheel. I just am excited to see how she does on the track coming from Indy Car.

Croft: Lily what was your mindset coming into formula 1 and this weekend?

Lily: To be honest I was nervous at first. Many see Motorsport, more specifically Formula 1 as a man’s sport. So I was very much nervous about possible hate or non-acceptance from the fans, but also the other teams on the grid. Before I left the states it was easy to just live in the bubble of excitement. Really it wasn’t until the day I left to get on the plane did it really hit nerves wise. My dad was the one really to help me break out of that mindset. Growing up and then getting into Indy Car he has always been there. To be the shoulder to lean on when people would cry nepotism because my dad is Dale Earnhardt Jr and racing is the family business. He just told me what he always has and that was to just get in the car and have fun. If you are having fun you are to busy to think of the rest and can ignore any hate or criticism. Then coming to the track this weekend it was really nice to see some fans with my old Penske kits from Indy and decked out in the friendship bracelets. As well as the fans wearing the new Red Bull kits with my name and number on them. So I am grateful to the fans old and new for being so supportive.

#Spotify #mclaren #formula 1 #f1 #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x oc #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1xfemaledriver #lando norris fic #lando norris imagines #lando norris fanfic

[sucreboy-blog]

Little worms in my brain (Jon and Martin TOH setting)

No manches! For those who haven't seen TOH “Watching and Dreaming”, the Collector's brothers are called Archivists, and do you know who else is also Archivist? Exactly! Our dearest favorite neurotic and paranoid: Jonathan “Jon” Sims AKA The Archivist.

I just finished the episode so I'm really excited rn but but but, imagine the following scenario…

-Jon is an Archivist who ended up stranded for reason A or B, in one of the different realms they travel and cannot return to his brothers.

-Martin finds Jon and takes care of him, Jon is very confused about what is happening.

-Angst with comfort(optional).

-End

With this scenario we can find several premises:

1) Martin is a witch in the times before Emperor Belos, in other words, they still practiced wild magic (I guess from the period where Luz and Lilith met Philip). Jon is an Archivist, he travels with his brothers collecting, documenting and preserving specimens, information and knowledge, these last two on which Jon focuses the most.

Jon ends up for some reason landing on the Boiling Isles, confused and having zero knowledge of how to live in society (he may Know a lot, but knowing social cues is not one of their strong suits), he goes and does something stupid.

Martin seeing this man (person who presents as masculine? Or non-binary?) infuriating all of the people he speaks with, decides to help him when things started to get a little too violent.

Jon (although he doesn't really know himself as Jon at the time) outraged decides to use his powers to get back to his brothers or maybe teach Martin or the others a lesson but surprise surprise, they don't work.

2) This setting is similar to the first one but set-in a modern human world, not really as medieval as the first but similar premise.

In this case, I imagine Martin as a customer service worker, he arrives at work (it can be a cafe, a self-service store, a McDonald's, etc.) and sees the most beautiful man(?) he has ever seen in his life, but he is dressed a really strange clothes (facial make included?) and talking non sense at his co-worker.

Jon does something stupid, the usual, tries to cross the street, almost gets run over, says the wrong thing to the wrong people, and Martin like the good samaritan he is, helps him. Jon gets mad and surprise surprise, again, his powers don't work.

(My mind runs through different scenarios of Martin teaching Jon how the human realm works, maybe set in Gravesfield or London but they end up going to Gravesfield to find a way to get Jon back home, meeting Luz and the others in the process?)

3) This scenario is a bit different than the previous two and it deviates from the orginal formula.

They're archivists, so I would imagine they must have their own archive or some kind of community archive, and they obviously employ assistants. So Martin is someone who ended up as an assistant to an Archivist after his dimension was "archived" by them.

There may also be different scenarios, but these are the three main ones that I feel I've the most developed, although we must not limit ourselves to these.

It could be that Jon was attracted to the Fears from the original TMA universe and wanted to classify them but got caught by mistake (Elias involved because he obviously wants to take advantage of Jon, dominate the world classic), or a completely different fantasy or sci-fi world where events happen more similar to the first scenario but with their own different set of rules.

From here you can add as much "spark" as you want. Elias manipulative? Of course! Either as an archivist brother or as a person who wants to take advantage of Jon. Peter? depending on the version there may even be Dad!Peter and it also depends on your level of self-inflicted masochism Dad!Peter can be a distant father (or father figure) trying to connect with his son or just pure Angst.

Tim, Sasha, Melanie, Georgie, Basira and Daisy? Of course! Add them as witches, demons, humans, etc.

Tim and Sasha can be humans, so are Melanie and Georgie but they, especially Melanie, have their youtube channel on paranormal investigation. And Basira and Daisy would be in the demon realm (Obviously if premise 2 or variations is chosen).

Add different avatars that can be friends or enemies, put all this together and have fun!

I was really excited, sorry, I have zero motivation and concentration to write a story like this, but I wanted to share:)

#the magnus archives #the owl house #listen listen Im not crazy I SWEAR

[dr-lauren-bloom]

New Amsterdam S. 4 finale thoughts *SPOILERS AHEAD*:

-FUCK YOU IGGY. How dare you gaslight Martin like that?! I hate when a tv show has fat characters and the writers always turn them into pathetic, self-pitying messes. It’s lazy. Iggy started as such a great character, he was the heart of the NA staff when the show started, now you don’t even recognize that anymore.

-I feel like they’re setting up either Lauren or Floyd to be the medical director or co-medical directors by the end of the series. The writers have seem to set a lot of clues that Max is probably going to decide to step down because he misses working with patients, and personally that would be the resolution that I would prefer to see from his character, that maybe he finally has some peace and realizes he doesn’t need to be the one who has to fix a broken system to feel better. Helen would be a good bet as well, but she’s always done well professionally that she wouldn’t need the position of medical director to feel any validation in the way that Max did and she has struck the balance between her career and personal life better than Lauren and Floyd. Lauren and Floyd are the characters that I’ve always felt were most similar to Max in the way that they’ve sacrificed their personal lives and relationships for the sake of their career, so seeing them going on arcs where they make peace with their pasts in a way Max was never able to before they take on such a big role would be an interesting resolution.

-I hate this subplot of Iggy taking over the emergency response plan for the hospital just to fulfill his ego. Y’know, you don’t have to put everyone else in danger to make yourself feel better?!

-Also, I think the downfall of the resistance really shook Wilder’s confidence ☹️ when we first met her, she helped Max when the hospital was under threat, but now, she didn’t want to help with the emergency response prep? I hope we get some resolution to that.

-Just my personal opinion, but I hate whenever medical dramas have subplots where doctors have to work somewhere that’s not a hospital and they have to like, Mcgyver their way through saving a patients life with tools or whatever. That scene where Floyd’s saving the woman’s life and stuck a pair of what I think are pliers just gave me the ick. I know that surgeons use similar tools in the OR but I still hate it 🥴

-Man, I’ve been pretty annoyed with Floyd for most of the season but I felt bad for him in the final scene with his dad. I know it was left open ended, but I felt so bad that he finally got the nerve to talk to him and there was like, nothing.

-I love how layered Lauren’s moments with female patients are throughout this series. The scenes with her reading the comic book with the kid in (I think?) season 1, the scenes in season 2 with the female overdose patient, and the scene in this episode with April where she talks to her about getting her help escaping from her abuser are hands down some of my favorite Lauren scenes. They’re loaded with so much significance and you know by her facial expressions, her body language, and how she becomes softer but more protective that she’s thinking of her younger sister in those moments with those patients. I really really really hope that we finally get some emotional payoff next season for this. Also, whenever Leyla asked her where she was staying and Lauren said someplace safe, where do y’all think she’s going? I don’t know why, but I think she’s probably going to stay with her mom, or maybe like, her childhood home if the family still owns it or something? That’d be kind of an interesting full circle moment for her.

-As for Lauren and Leyla, I’m not happy about it but I understand why Lauren had to break up with her for good. I hope that it really isn’t the end for them, but I hope that we get to see them both grow a bit more before coming together again.

-Again, I’d like to say, FUCK YOU IGGY. Sure, the hospital was still standing at the end of the day, but leading the hospital’s emergency response team just because you have something to prove is dangerous and dumb. I wish Vijay would like, haunt him from the afterlife and throw stuff at Iggy when he’s being this dumb. He made Veronica Fuentes look like a fucking angel in this episode. Do you know how badly you need to fuck up to made her more likable? I don’t know how he did it, but by golly he did.

-I knew the wedding would be on the New Amsterdam rooftop. Completely unrelated but that really is such a gorgeous rooftop. And that view of the River from the one side? 🤌 I personally am such a slut for a good waterfront view-

-Hey, no what the fuck? What is going on? No. Helen? HELEN? NO. Please god, no. What the fuck is this? Why is this happening?!

Bonus reaction gifs:

My final review of this episode:

-4321976 out of 10

#new amsterdam #new amsterdam nbc #anyways does anyone want to scream with me about this episode? #new amsterdam spoilers

[karenjacksons]

Power Rangers

I’m doing every season I’ve seen 😜

Zeo/Turbo 1

Favorite male: jason

favorite female: kat

Least favorite: idk?

Prettiest: kat

Funniest: rocky could be pretty funny ngl

Favorite episode: any gold ranger episode

Favorite romantic ship: jason/kat…….

Family ship: tommy/his brother (:()

friendship: kat/tanya

Worst ship: none

Turbo 2/Space

Favorite male: andros

favorite female: astronema/karone

least favorite: elgar

prettiest: astronema hottest pr character ever

funniest: zhane

Favorite episode: the one where astronema turns good and joins the ranger. The one with no sentai footage……it’s name escapes me. And for turbo,the iconique pizza ep

Romantic ship: andros/ashley

family ship: andros/karone,ecliptor/karone

friendship: Carlos/Andros

worst ship: idk?

Lost Galaxy

favorite male: damon

favorite female: karone

least favorite: mike because……who

prettiest: karone is still the hottest pr character even without the wigs

funniest: none of them were that funny tbh but karone gets the title for her “GALACTABEASTS OVER HEEERE” moment

favorite episode: protect the quasar saber

romantic ship: leo/karone

family ship: leo/mike

friendship: karone/everyone

worst ship: idk

Lightspeed Rescue

favorite male: ryan

favorite female: Angela tbh

least favorite: vypra was hot but a terribly written character even by this show’s standards lmao. (Idek about her acting btw)

prettiest: angela

funniest: joel

favorite episode: any titanium ranger episode. Also,in the limelight

romantic ship: joel/angela

family ship: Ryan/dana

friendship: Chad/kelsey

worst ship: none

Time force:

favorite male: wes

favorite female: katie

least favorite: lucas

prettiest: Jen and Katie

funniest: nadira

favorite episode: movie madness. I have watched it three times now. I’m dead serious. romantic ship: Wes/Jen

family ship: Wes/his dad

friendship: Wes/Trip,Wes/Katie

worst ship: tbh as funny as the episode was I kind of hate Lucas/nadira

Wild Force

favorite male: Jindrax

favorite female: shayla

least favorite: viktor but he was still a great villain

prettiest: taylor

funniest: jindrax and toxica

favorite episode: the zen aku episodes,,or the one where toxica dies and the followup where jindrax saves her romantic ship: merrick/shayla

family ship: when it comes to found family you can’t go wrong with Shayla/the rangers

friendship: see above

worst ship: idk

Ninja Storm:

favorite male: cam or blake

favorite female: Tori

least favorite: none

prettiest: marah out of costume tbh……..also Sally Martin is so stunning as an adult 😍

funniest: they are all so funny…….including the villains…….

Favorite episode: wild wipeout and I love lothor

romantic ship: blake/tori

family ship: the thunders ofc

friendship: Shane/Tori,Cam/Tori,honestly Tori/everyone

worst ship: not a real ship but I noticed hunter/tori was super popular in the 2000s youtube fandom……I actually like the videos but why.

Dino thunder:

favorite male: trent

favorite female: kira

least favorite: mesogog just because I hate his look

prettiest: kira,cassidy (marah is prettier tho 😜),good!elsa

funniest: cassidy

favorite episode: missing bone

Romantic ship: Conner/kira

Family ship: trent/anton for the interesting dynamic;and tbh because there are no other families on this show……I just thought of a hilarious AU where kira and cassidy are opposite sisters tho. Imagine

friendship: tommy/everyone

worst ship: 2000s YouTube fandom with your Tommy/Kira……wyd

jungle fury:

favorite male: RJ

favorite female: camille

least favorite: ngl a lot of the evil masters got on my nerves for how they treated camille

prettiest: lily

funniest: rj

favorite episode: the one where Camille is blonde and befriends lily

romantic ship: Jarrod/camille

family ship: ig rj/finn? Not enough interactions tho….

friendship: RJ/Casey

worst ship: I sort of hate romantic rj/casey

#answered #anonymous

[laurenceslife]

Chapter 26

             He called Kristen and told her that they couldn’t wait till the end of the filming, they had to start giving up using the drugs immediately after celebrating her birthday, but he couldn't go to rehab.

- We might have more chances to succeed in doing it even this way, than if we were far from each other - the girl said.

- You're right. It’ll be so good to be together after so much time that we won't even notice the withdrawal symptoms - Larry said - As an addition, we’re gonna be together every day till the end of the summer. Also, our parents are gonna be here who’re gonna support us - he tried to encourage her.

- Your dad is gonna come, too?

The boy told her the story.

- I’m still afraid of my dad – Kristen said – He’s the one who punishes me too, not Mom – then she shifted into a cheerful voice – In spite of that, do you still call your dad Fish?

- That name already stays on him forever. It would be dead odd to call him somehow else – Larry said.

- To me, the odd thing is if somebody doesn’t call his or her parents Mom and Dad. I haven’t even heard anything like that.

- When I was a small child, my father was a correctional facility-guard instead of being a father. He has worked more than how he had met with me. Besides his family and work, maybe he didn’t have more time to meet with me, even if I would have had time.

- Somehow I didn’t miss Dad when I was in the Philippines; I only missed Mom.

- I’ve had such periods in my life when I even wanted to live with my father. My mother constantly pushed me into acting; I hardly had childhood.

- Are you still happy that you reached a stage when you’re so successful?

- I always wanted to be as successful as possible in it, but first, I wanted it because of money, to earn money already as a kid and to buy what I wanted. I loved going shopping but I didn’t have money, I loved comics, food, planetarium and traveling to my cousins. And money was necessary for these. Then I took a liking to Sidney Poitier, Richard Burton, Michael Douglas, James Earl Jones, Peter O’Toole, Robert Deniro, Gregory Peck and Al Pacino, and I wanted to be such a big star like them. On the other hand, this movie’s actors and director taught me that money’s not what’s important, fame either, but to be as good artists as possible for acting itself, to enjoy the work, that we can work together with other artists, to do our best and to compose something that’s lasting, what we can be justifiably proud of. I’ll miss it when I won’t be able to play because of the withdrawal symptoms.

- And what does the director say to that? – the girl asked tremulously.

- Today I talked it over with him, and he agreed to that. There are hardly any scenes of mine left already, anyway, and it’s still possible to endure this much of them if they’ll be played poorly, and anyway, our lives are at stake, but to him, it’s about his movie of his life. OK, that’s also a huge thing but Francis is like he’s my father, so he was understanding. I’ll also need him as an additional „relative” during giving up using the drug… Although it’s not fair that I’m gonna have one more „relative” than you’re gonna have, as an addition, Martin, Emilio and the other actors are here, too, who I’m friends with, too… I think you should bring more relatives and friends; you’ll need them even more  in giving up using the drug without rehab.

- Well, OK, I’ll try it but everybody doesn’t have enough money to come to the other side of the Earth. Maybe they’d like to be vacationing in the Philippines, but if not, they made a huge sacrifice for me ’cause they gave the rest of the summer to me, as an addition, so expensively… I should pay off for the flight for them, but we still don’t have so much money – Kristen got frightened.

- Maybe I can pay for the flight here and back to one or two persons.

More money than this much, didn’t remain to him after he played Jenny’s whole family’s flight.

- Thank you very much but maybe it won’t even be necessary, ’cause maybe they booked the place to their next vacationing place, but that’s also possible that everybody can come who’s important to me, but you are the most important one, anyway, and that’s the essence.

            Laurence had arrived the next day, with Lucy and Lemuel. Nowadays, Lucy worked and earned much money, so they could be staying in that luxury hotel where Larry was, which counted a lot for the boy that his family member was close to during giving up using the drug. Laurence was also going to work there, and Lucy could be resting and enjoying the vacation without contributing to the family’s livelihood, because she agreed to spend that much time there how much was necessary. She was already bored with her work, anyway, and she wanted to spend more time with her family and to rest, so it didn’t cause so big loss to her that she terminated her covenant, but if they would be there for a long time, she would have to work there too, not only to look for another job after going home.

Larry had talked it over with his parents already that he was going to start the detoxification already during the filming, with Kristen, after the girl’s birthday, and they agreed with him, too.

On the first day that Laurence and his family were there, the boy was having dinner together with them. They hadn’t met in person for a lot of months already.

- Will you tell us about your girlfriend? – the man asked in the restaurant.

- Kristen’s gonna be fifteen next Saturday – his son said – She just completed her studies in elementary school, and she’s gonna go to high school; either she’ll be a private student here while the filming’s lasting, or we’ll go to high school together in America.

- Does she have any brother or sister? – Lucy asked.

- No.

- Where does she live? – Lemuel asked.

- Not far away from us, in the neighboring street. And what’s up with you guys?

- Lemuel was the runner-up in a poetry-reciting competition at the end of the school year – his father said.

- Aha; that’s good.

            After dinner, Larry had time to call Kristen because the joint eating and talking wasn’t scheduled for late.

- Well, do you know already when you guys are gonna come? – the boy asked.

- On Thursday, in the afternoon. If we spend a little time together before the detoxification, at least we bear it more in the beginning when the joy of we’re together again is still recent. Mom said it. And at least you’ll have more time to also be with your dad until we arrive.

- Have you succeeded in speaking to some of your close relatives and to your best friends already?

- Yeah. Alyssa and my two cousins Bree and Jason are gonna come; the others don’t know yet but my other cousins surely aren’t gonna come. They said they were gonna be vacationing together in Miami, and they’ve already booked the quarters. I think those of my grandparents who are common with them, are gonna go with them, too.

- Aha. It’s the same, two other grandparents of yours and other friends are still there, too. On the other hand, I called you ‘cause tonight, I was talking with Fish, and it came up that you’re gonna be a private student during the detoxification and that you’re gonna go to high school, and it came into my head that if the work won’t be going well during the withdrawal symptoms, then studying won’t be going, either. I think we should postpone a year. And anyway, we spend the time together, this distracts our attention much more than studying; then the withdrawal symptoms are gonna be much more tolerable.

- And what to say to my future classmates?! That I failed?! Or the truth, and then they will think that part of it that somebody put that drug into my drink, is only a lie?! – the girl broke down.

- If you’re doing the year till the end during the withdrawal symptoms, the same things surface, just then you really fail; you would make the detoxification even more unbearable by struggling with studying in vain…

- You’re right – Kristen said in a low voice and extremely bitterly.

            Next day, during breakfast, Larry had told his mother that Kristen and he wanted to postpone the school year.

- This is unambiguous. It’s impossible, studying and to be filming during withdrawal symptoms. And it’s so hard without rehab that studying beside detoxification wouldn’t work to Kristen either – Hattie said.

Then they were eating without uttering a word.

- Probably we’ll die, right? – the boy asked later.

- Certainly not! – his mother said in a reassuring voice, and took her son’s hand – If you two don’t succeed in doing the detoxification till the end, you two will be very ill, but probably not so much that you two die. And so many friends are gonna surround you, and you’ll feel so good with Kristen that you’ll surely succeed in doing it! And me and your father are also here, too, and two of your best friends too – then she switched over to an officious voice – You’ve spoken to Kristen to call her loved ones, haven’t you?

- Evidently – Larry said sullenly.

- That’s OK then – the woman’s voice was similar.

#laurence fishburne #francis ford coppola #martin sheen #emilio estevez #sidney poitier #richard burton #michael douglas #james earl jones #Peter O’Toole #robert deniro #Gregory Peck #al pacino

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,325

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father's sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin's, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' storyline.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) finally arrives at Beacon Hills for the funeral of her aunt and meets a certain wolf to which she feels a special connection.

A/N: Second fandom I'm writing for. I love Teen Wolf so much and the trope of hard Derek but only soft for you makes my heart sing. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next ->

Chapter 1

I hugged the black coat to my body as hard as I could whilst pushing through the sea of press. Our family's last name became quite known after the reports about my aunt, whose burial we were attending. She had allegedly burned down a house with people in it.  She killed them in cold blood. I hugged my grieving uncle and his less grieving wife, then my cousin who had a painful look on her face. I hugged her the longest. She let herself crumble on my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Even though she was a horrible person she was still our aunt, family.

I took my seat behind Allison when my father, my mother, uncle Chris, and aunt Victoria stood up. Allison didn't lift her head and neither did I. I just tried to comfort her.

"It's been such a long time I don't expect you to call me grandpa." We both looked up to see a white-haired man who resembled the Argent features. "Don't worry about it, just call me Gerard." He hugged both of us, an overpowering aura emanating from his being. When we were engulfed, I looked to the side and saw two boys squatting behind a gravestone. If they were hiding, they were doing a horrible job at it.

"But I prefer Grandpa," Gerard said walking to his seat. I sat back down and drifted off during the whole ceremony. Once it was over, I joined my parents and we drove to our new house. I have a feeling that life here will be very interesting.

That weekend I decided that I had been putting working out off for too long. I changed into comfortable workout clothes and gave food to my dog, Brody. I headed out the door, put my earbuds on, and started to jog. I really didn't know where I was going since it was a new place for me, all I know is that I kept running until I reached the woods. The bad thing about this, I had no idea how to get back home. Even though I knew of this sidetrack and I knew I would be late to get back home, I kept running, needing a release from the mundane feeling of being new in town and having to reunite from our estranged family in a funeral.

I had gained a lot of momentum. God knows how fast I was running at this point that is until I hit something, it almost felt like a wall. When I looked up, I saw a very handsome guy. Spiked hair, green eyes, and slight stubble. If it weren't for the fact that I was already sweaty I would have started to sweat showers of how nervous I was. That is until he opened his mouth.

"Watch where you're going." He growled at me.

"How about you fucking move and not be a prick?" He looked at me with big eyes, probably in surprise, but quickly changed to his menacing look. Who was he trying to fool?

"Well, this is private property, which means that you're trespassing, meaning you should pay more attention to your surroundings."

"I'm sorry but a burnt-down house with almost no walls or roof is barely a property. So, how about you stop being an idiot and I can be on my way." I started to jog once again but he gained my attention once more.

"You're new here, aren't you?" I turned around to face him.

"What's it to you?" He raised his eyebrow.

"I'll take that as a yes." The cockiness oozed out of his pores.

"And why the hell should that matter?"

"Because no one would dare talk to me that way."

"Who would be afraid of a little sour wolf?" He tensed up. "Dude, chill. I'm just kidding. But I doubt anyone would be afraid of Mr...."

"Hale. Derek Hale." He said extending his hand to me. Gee, after screaming at me he wants us to be acquaintances. I thought about not shaking his hand, but I didn't want to be rude. Well, more than I have been already.

"(Y/N). Argent." I shook his hand. Strong grip. Suddenly I felt a rush of déjà vu; I had met him the day before. "Wait, aren't you that guy I accidentally hit with my grocery cart yesterday?"

"Yeah, that really hurt. You hit my ankle. You could've had me limping."

"But you're not, so be grateful I didn't break your ankle." He laughed. "Damn, if I had known how cocky you really were, I would've hit you harder."

"So, you admit that you hit me?"

"Oh yeah, of course, I hit you. Accidentally that is."

"Yeah, yeah."

I looked around trying to find where the hell I had come from but there wasn't even the slightest trail as to where I was to go.

"So, miss (Y/N). Do you even know your way home?"

"No, but I'm sure I can find my way back." Then, he took keys out of his pocket and pointed to his car.

"Come on, I'll drive you around and you just tell me when something seems familiar."

"And why should I go with the guy that almost ripped out my throat for bumping into him? For all I know you could be driving me to my death." I crossed my arms over my chest, and he let out a loud sigh.

"Look, I'm sorry for snapping. But I'm trying to be nice. That doesn't happen very often."

"Alright, Mr. Hale. I'll let you take me home just because you are being nice now, after being a prick, and I'm exhausted."

"See, no one can resist me." I rolled my eyes at his cockiness. Seriously does he buy cans of it on eBay?

"Don't get cocky with me. I can punch the living daylights out of you." He chuckled and started to drive.

We drove for about 20 minutes until I finally recognized the curb that led to my house. Upon arriving at my driveway, I got out of the car and walked to the driver’s side.

"Give me your hand” For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. He took a pen and wrote down a number. "Call me if you ever need a tour of the town."

Three weeks later, I walked inside the school to meet up with Allison. I moved here with my family since dad had some business taking float. Being the new kid in town is never fun. I would know. I switch schools almost every year. The pro and con about this would be not being attached to anyone. Usually, I'm the one who doesn't talk to anyone and is called a freak. A derogatory term given to people who are way too different from others, but a title I wore proudly.

"Oh my gosh, (Y/N)! How have you been?" Allison wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly. It was as if she hadn't seen me just three weeks ago.

"Hi, Allison. I've been good, getting acclimated to the new town. You?" You would think that because we were cousins, I would be more affectionate towards her but honestly, I wouldn't see her again for like three more years, so what's the point?

"I'm good. A little rocky at the start of coming here but good." Then, a boy with a buzz cut and one with great brown hair walked by and smiled at Alli. "Ooh, you should come meet my friends. Stiles, Scott!! Come here." The boys turned around with goofy grins on their faces.

"Hey, Allison. Who's this?" Buzzcut kid said.

"This is my cousin, (Y/N). She just moved here from Virginia."

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Scott." The one with the great hair said.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Stiles." I shook their hands and smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too, buzzcut." Allison and Scott laughed but Stiles only ran his hand through his hair, suddenly becoming hyperaware of his lack of locks.

"Allison. Who might this sexy lady be?" I rolled my eyes. The last thing I need is a narcissist with a god-complex trying to get close.

"Oh, Jackson, this is my cousin, (Y/N)."

"Hi." He extended his hand and looked me up and down.

"Hi." I smiled sarcastically, and when I didn't extend my hand, he dropped his.

Finally, after standing awkwardly behind Allison whilst her friends talked, the bell rang. Talk about saved by the bell.

"Hey, (Y/N), what's your first class?" I checked my schedule.

"Um, chemistry."

"Oh, good, then you're coming with us to Mr. Harris' class," Scott said pointing towards him and Stiles. I smiled and walked behind them.

Once we got to the classroom everyone turned to me, the ever-present sign of being new in the class evident in the stare of my classmates.

"Um, hi, my name is (Y/N) Argent and I'm new." The teacher, whom I guess is Mr. Harris, turned around to face me.

"Oh, yes, Miss Argent. Welcome. You will be sitting next to Isaac Lahey. Lahey, raise your hand." Once Isaac raised his hand, I noticed he was sat near Stiles and Scott. Two people I was trying to avoid. As I walked past, I accidentally pushed Stiles' book on his lap, startling him, resulting in an awkward descent from his lab stool onto the floor.

"Hi, again. I guess we are gonna see a lot of each other for the rest of the school year." I nodded and he scratched the back of his neck. "So, um, what school did you come from?"

"Lancaster High," I responded whilst writing down what Mr. Harris was writing on the board. Stiles kept trying to talk to me, but I would only give him short, cold answers or just ignore him. That is until Mr. Harris called our attention, that's when he finally got the memo to shut up.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to introduce myself since we're gonna be seated next to each other all year. I'm Isaac."

"I figured." I tried giving him my best smile. The vibe he was giving off seemed like he needed it. "I'm (Y/N)."

"Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N). Now I'll leave you to the class because if I don't I know I'll be failing even more than I am."

"Oh, well, maybe I can tutor you some time. I'm actually really good at science. My mom was a chemist professor once upon a time so I'm bound to understand all this."

"Really?!" His puppy eyes seemed to light up and I nodded. "That would actually be amazing."

"Sure thing. Now let's get back to class."

After Chemistry finished, I put everything in my bag as quickly as possible and sped to my next class, Math. Thankfully, none of Allison's friends shared this class with me but I did share it with Isaac.  I didn't consider him much a friend but more an acquaintance in desperate need of help.

As the day progressed, I noticed the rest of my classes were shared with one or more of Allison's friends. They all tried to strike up a conversation but were quickly discouraged when met with my one-worded or vague answers. Especially, Stiles. He tried especially hard to get answers out of me, only being met with the occasional laugh or stare at his comical occurrences. He seemed like the kind of person you could just open up to. The same could be said about Scott. His shy nature was alluring, and he portrayed himself as a very trustworthy and loyal being.

But I would not allow myself to let them in. My whole being yearned for a real friendship, someone to share nothing and everything; never again.

At lunch, I sat outside and ate my food quietly, a book in front of my face to shield my eyes from the sun the prevalent stares of my peers. After some minutes of appreciated loneliness, the empty table was filled with conversating teenage bodies. I smiled politely but, in my mind, I was cursing them out.

"So, (Y/N), how's your day been?" Allison asked whilst munching on an apple. I swallowed what was left of my bite and answered.

"Fine, thank you." This time no one pressed on after my short answers, finally getting the hint of my disinterest. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac sitting under a tree munching on half a sandwich. I excused myself and went to join him, heavily enjoying his tranquil aura.

"Oh, hi, (Y/N)." He smiled sheepishly.

"Hey, Isaac. Is that all you're eating?"

"Yeah. I'm not very hungry." He looked down as if he were ashamed.

"Nonsense! Here," I gave him the other half of my burger and another bag of chips I had in my bag. "You can't tell me you're not hungry. You're a boy in peak development."

"Thanks." He smiled as he continued munching on his food. I put on some music and we continued eating in silence. No conversation required.

The day went on smoother than it started. Classes flew by fairly quickly and the incessant chit-chat seemed to diminish. During last period I was like every other student, anxiously waiting for the bell to signal the end of the school day. When my pleads were answered, I packed the necessary book into my bag and left the rest in my locker, expertly avoiding any more social encounters. Quickly, I made my way to the waiting open car door of my father's car, ignoring Allison's beckoning me t.wards the small group of friends.

"How was your first day, darling?" My father spoke up breaking my attention from the scenery.

"Like any other first day I've had." I smiled. "The towns might change but school is always the same."

Finally at home, we were greeted with the sight of my mother cooking; people were coming over.

"(Y/N), honey, Chris, Victoria, and Allison are coming over tonight. So, go do a quick workout and come back to get ready." I nodded and ran to my room to change into workout clothes.

My routine would normally consist of waking up, working out, go to school for a dreading eight hours, come back home, workout again, do my homework, eat, and go to sleep. I lead a very monotonous life and it had been this way since I could remember. One of my earliest memories was of my father teaching me archery alongside Allison, a great distraction to our always disrupted home life. As I got older, my father started training me in boxing and knife maneuvering. How would these skills help me in life were still a mystery but I felt safe knowing them.

I got changed and decided to take Brody out with me on a quick jog through the woods. "Hey, boy, ready to go?"

He jumped on me which I took as a yes and started for the woods. We ran down the same trail I had been going on for the past three weeks. Mostly, I went down this track in hopes that Derek would make an appearance, and today was not the exception. As the ruins of his house came to view so did his tall figure.

"Trespassing again?"

"It doesn't count if I know the owner." During our greeting, Brody's leash slipped out of my hand and he ran to jump on Derek, leaving slobbering licks on his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled and helped me bring him down.

"I guess he likes you, even though he doesn't like anyone but me. Guess you're special."

"Maybe." He grinned.

Out of nowhere, I hit him in the shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"For trying to run me over with your shopping cart two days ago. It was uncalled for."

"No, it was revenge. You hit ME first. In the ankle."

"You're still on with that. Come on, sour wolf. That happened three weeks ago, and it was an accident."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll give you a ride home. It's getting kind of dark." This had also become part of my routine. After "bumping" into Derek he would offer to drop me off at my house, claiming it was for security.

"Okay, we're here. By the way, the offer to show you around town is still up. Just call me whenever." He said as he stopped the car in front of my house.

"Alright, will do, and thanks for the ride, Derek. I'd invite you in, but my family is coming over."

"No worries, maybe another time."

"It's a date. Anyways, thanks again. See you when I see you."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Night." He waited until I entered the house and drove away.

"Munchkin, is that you?" My father screamed from the kitchen.

"Yeah!" I screamed back.

"Okay, well, go take a shower and get ready your uncle will get here soon."

I hurried up the stairs and hopped in the shower letting the hot water stream down my body calming any aching muscle that was palpitating. In my room, I searched through my closet for an acceptable family dinner outfit, deciding a grey sweater and black jeans would be enough. I braided my hair out of my face and went downstairs to help my mother set the table.

After we put the last plate the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" I ran to the door and was greeted by my uncle. "Uncle Chris!" I jumped and he hugged me. There was no doubt that he was my favorite family member, his presence was always welcoming. His wife on the other hand was as cold as the winters we spent in New York. She was nice but absolutely scary. "Hi, Aunt Victoria."

"Hello, (Y/N)." I hugged her and said hi to Allison.

"Come in, guys." They walked in and I closed the door behind them.

"So, (Y/N), how have you been?" Uncle Chris asked while stuffing his mouth with mom's famous lasagna.

"I've been good. I mean, moving all the time takes a toll on you at first, but I got used to it. It's easy now to pack it all up once the school year ends."

"Oh, honey, that must be so hard on you," Victoria said. I could not read her tone, her words spoke in sympathetic notes with an underlying melody of sarcasm.  Not knowing what to answer, I bit my lip and nodded.

The whole evening was spent on us catching up and eating, laughing, playing games, but the good times came to an end when the clock hit 9:00 pm. It was stupid to set a curfew, but my mom usually had everyone in bed at this time, 10:30 as of late.

"You better come around the house more often." Uncle Chris demanded and hugged me.

"Yes, sir." I raised my hand to my eyebrow and saluted, as did he.

"Let's go, Chris. And thank you for the lovely dinner, Rebecca," Victoria said linking arms with my uncle and smiling at mom.

"No problem. Come by any time." They talked for a bit more and after they left, I went upstairs to change for bed.

"Momma, I'm gonna go to sleep."

"Okay, honey. Goodnight." I went upstairs, brushed my teeth, and put my hair in a ponytail.

Before bed, I made sure everything I would need for the next day was packed into my bag and made sure my alarm was set. I pulled all the throw pillows from my bed and set them aside, then making my way to the window to draw the curtains. Something caught my attention in the backyard, though. My eyes squinted trying to make out the figure in front of me. Blinking the confusion away, I made a double-take and looked back at an empty yard. I laughed to myself as I crept into bed. Why would Derek be in my backyard?

Next ->

#derek hale #derek hale imagine #stiles stilinski #derek hale x reader #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf smut #derek hale smut #scott mccall imagine #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #chris argent #jackson whittemore #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad #writing #isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #reader insert

[itsallyscorner]

Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I’m sorry, but can I just go on a little rant about the Louis, clouis, and the Clem comic...? 

I didn’t really talk about Louis in my overall review of the comic because I wanted that to be more contained to the content shown on the pages, Clementine’s relationship with AJ, and her as a character.... but the more I think about these comics and Louis, the more frustrated I become thinking about what Clementine abandoning everyone would do to him. 

[... okay it’s not little anymore since I guess I can never just do anything simple when it comes to Louis, sorry my bad]

So, no surprise, we all know the comic’s bullshit by now. Clementine leaving everything and everyone behind because she’s not happy is dumb, AJ just letting her go is dumb, and Clem going to the mountains on crutches and a peg leg to find this so-called happiness is dumb. 

Now that we’ve established it’s dumb, I wanna talk about Louis because I got a lot of built up feelings about how bullshit this storyline is with how Clementine would not only abandon AJ, but also abandon Louis. 

Because let me tell you..... his heart would be broken beyond repair and I need to talk about why.

Sigh.... so.... muh boy. 

Before he met Clementine, Louis was this laidback, irresponsible, but caring and musical person who kept his head down to avoid conflict and never looked at the future. He was the kind of person who took things one day at a time, saw survival as a day-to-day task, and said that the future doesn’t exist, there’s only today. You get the point, he was never too concerned with things because they always seemed to work out, and if they didn’t, then that sucks and that’s why we should appreciate every day while we have it. 

Louis is shown to be charismatic and friendly, he spends his free time playing piano and card games, but no one really takes him seriously. Not even Marlon, his best friend for 8+ years. While he doesn’t seem to be on bad terms with anyone [including Aasim, they just act like people who disagree with the other’s point of view and have had the same argument many times, but that doesn’t mean they hate each other, y’know?] he also doesn’t appear super close with anyone outside of Marlon and possibly Violet, but even then. 

Marlon’s shown to have little faith in him with the way he talks about if Louis will even show up to hunt. He has a controlling grip on Louis that’s prominent during the confrontation scene when he uses intimidation to try to convince Louis to not interfere. Oh, and there’s the fact that Marlon’s been lying to Louis for the past year about the twins and then continued to lie to his face about what really happened to Brody... which isn’t great when you consider how Louis was the only one who had blind faith in him as a leader and, according to Marlon, was the only one who couldn’t see how pathetic he always was. 

Violet, while having a few more nicer moments with him than Marlon, still invalidates him and his feelings several times throughout the first half of the game which makes me wonder how close they ever were, or at least if Violet ever considered him a close friend to begin with. And no, a small monologue in the dorms doesn’t make everything better or confirm they were brotp the whole time... especially when once they’re on the boat, Louis might as well not exist because Violet can’t be bothered to acknowledge what happened to him or inquire about how he’s doing. I guess she just didn’t have time react while standing in her cell for several unbothered minutes-- no wait, it’s she already reacted off screen. Right. Good writing is good.

What I’m getting at here is that even though Louis is surrounded by people who he genuinely cares about, there is an argument to be made that he’s a lonely person. Hell, he’s aware of his loneliness when he says that no one hears past his music and jokes. I mean, how many nights do you think he spent by himself playing the piano because no one wanted to hear it? Are they like Violet and crack jokes about how he doesn’t have actual talent? Probably, given that someone literally carved “you suck at playing” onto the side of the damn piano. 

Oh, and let’s touch on that backstory of his. Louis grew up wealthy with two parents who loved him and each other, and they gave him anything he wanted except singing lessons. Louis says he wanted to be a real musician. But I guess his father didn’t like that idea and told him no, with the [as Louis puts it] dumb dad lesson of, “You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” ...which is interesting given that Louis and his family were stupid rich but also.... were they not happy? well, that doesn’t make sense because little Louis knew that if he broke up their marriage, they would be hurt. 

So yeah, Louis was so upset that his father continually refused to let him take singing lessons that he broke into the man’s credit cards and faked an affair, which led to his parents divorcing... and then he spit his father’s words back in his face. 

Then they dumped him at Ericson. And the walkers came. 

There’s so much to unpack from the story he tells that it could be it’s own analysis, but basically.... Louis is aware of why what he did was fucked up, and he carries it with him every day. 

He regrets what he did, chews himself out for being such a “vindictive fuckhead” [and the amount of force used in that line tells you a lot, like how it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself like this] and he admits that he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about. Yet, he still sees himself as bad, saying that they [I assume the staff] told him and the other kids they’re bad people. I don’t doubt that Louis internalized that which played a huge role in the confidence and self-esteem issues he has during tfs. 

Anyway, I’ll come back to this later, but when you take that amount of guilt and regret, and mix it with the fact that they dropped him off at this school that was supposed to make him better.... then the walkers came and those teachers, staff, and headmaster? Gone. Left a bunch of kids to fend for themselves, with the exception of Ms. Martin [but given how she looks when we find her I doubt she lasted that long] and I cannot imagine how horrifying that was for all of them. The dead are up eating people, and if you die you become one of them... and the people you thought you could rely on just fucking left you to die at this school. 

Every kid in that school has trauma and abandonment issues from before and after the world went to shit, every last one, and Louis isn’t the exception here. Over the years, a lot of kids died and they’ve all seen horrible shit. They all knew they were never going to see their families again, and as far as we know, no one came to get their kids at the beginning. They had to find ways of coping while trying to survive, and all they had left was each other. 

Louis copes with music and games and jokes. He’s built up this persona where it seems like he’s unaffected by the comments the others make, that the death and suffering he’s gone through is in the past, that he is confident and open to those around him.

But then Clementine and AJ show up, and Louis grows close with both of them. They had immediate chemistry upon first meeting, he was the one who looked after AJ since it seems like everyone else saw him as a little terror, and he went out of his way to be kind and make them comfortable. 

When they go hunting with him, Louis and Clementine have a moment after taking care of the walker where they lower their guards a bit-- Louis gives her more in-depth reasons for his views of survival, and going off her expression, it gets to her and makes her think.... but they’ve know each other a day and he’s not quick to infodump his life story or let her in, so he cuts the conversation short.

Then we have the Marlon confrontation scene that I have gone over so many times in the past. I won’t dillydally with it too long but..... Clementine appeals to Louis, who curls in on himself because of the control Marlon has on him. He wants to help, and hell, he knows this is wrong but he’s so used to not getting involved that he gets defensive.... plus, he’s known Clementine for two days, and he’s known Marlon for 8+ years.... he wants to believe Marlon but you can tell he doesn’t want this, either. It takes Clementine talking to him to give him courage to stand between her and Marlon’s gun and it’s a lot.

AJ shoots Marlon and everything goes to shit, and Louis is a goddamn mess. His best friend was murderer right in front of him, so add that to the trauma list, and he’s overwhelmed with all these feelings that again.... they keep getting invalidated by Violet because “Marlon was a liar and murderer, therefore you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Get over yourself, Louis, you can be such a shithead sometimes.” 

Oh yeah Vi, I guess he should care more about two people he’s known for a total of two days rather than for the safety of the people [including you] he’s grown up with and cared about for 8+ years.... makes sense. 

So yeah, little to no support during this time. Alone again. 

And just because I have to make this clear so no one gets a hair up their ass-- both Louis and Violet are wrong here. Kicking them out isn’t the solution, but neither is acting like AJ was right to commit murder just because it was Marlon.

 But plots gotta plot, so they get voted out and you can see that Louis is conflicted about the whole thing. He wants them gone, but at the same time, he knows what kicking them out means. You can see it on his face that he’s not okay with kicking them out. He’s hurting when he’s there in the dorms telling them how the vote went... he literally doesn’t know what else to do. He just knows that everything hurts, Clem and AJ caused it, and he wants the pain to stop. He even tries to justify it to himself by figuring that they’ve done this before so they’ll be fine. Not a great thing to say, Lou. 

Anyway, we know the story, Clem and AJ come back and Louis once again sees the consequences of acting out of pain.... AJ is shot because Louis was hurt and he made a bad decision that he’s gotta live with.... something that he’s done before, and this affirms to him that he’s bad. He wishes he could take it back, and goes as far as to admit that to Clementine during the archery scene. 

By the way, credit to him for his apology to her. It’s rare in these games that Clem gets a genuine apology from someone who hurt her and doesn’t turn around to repeat the hurtful behavior, y’know? Plus, I can think of plenty of characters who owed Clem an apology in the past or if they did apologize, it was half-assed. 

You can feel how conflicted he is with this whole thing-- learning who Marlon really was and what he did, feeling something for Clementine before everything went down and not knowing how to handle those feelings afterward, caring about AJ and understanding why he thought shooting was the best choice but still hurting that his friend is dead.... 

And the thing is.... Louis forgives her for so much, as she does him, and through all of that bullshit, they manage to develop that strong connection that turns romantic. Louis lets himself be fully vulnerable with her and is honest about his feelings, how she listened when no one else did and seeing him for more than just the persona he put on. 

This works on Clementine’s side, too. Clementine has been through her own fair share of bullshit-- trauma, abandonment, loss, injury, you name it. She’s made mistakes, done terrible things, and has been in enough groups to know that romance usually ends in heartbreak.... and yet, she’s willing to open herself up to Louis and admit she feels a lot for him. 

Is it a little rushed? Yep. Could it have been handled better? Of course, most things this season could’ve, but what we got was pretty good. 

So Clementine and Louis are romantically involved now, the raiders attack, and she saves him... and boy does Louis feel guilty about that one, too. He feels bad enough that he questions why she would pick him because he can’t fathom his life being worth saving over another’s. He doesn’t see himself as useful, and even though Clementine is literally his girlfriend at this point, his self-esteem is so all over the place that he can’t understand why she would have him at her side. 

And when Clementine tells him that he’s too important to her, he’s too baffled to even give a response. He looks at her in disbelief like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.  But this shows that at the beginning of their relationship, he still doubts himself, and through her working with him, he begins to build up that strength in himself. 

He becomes brave enough to share what got him sent to the school with her, and he plays Don’t Be Afraid for everyone at the party and like.... for once, everyone is listening to him. Really listening to him. They’re not talking shit about his musical skills, they’re not ignoring him or the feelings he’s putting into the song, they’re sitting there with him and I just..... if you watch him, you can see that his eyes get pretty glossy throughout the song. The moment meant something to everyone. 

There’s also the fact that Clementine asked him to come with her and AJ onto the boat, and to be the one in charge of the bomb... that’s a huge responsibly and he feels the pressure of that. He starts to panic a bit about if he can do it, because what if he fucks up? What if he gets them caught and makes everything worse? What if something happens to Clementine and he can’t do anything about it? 

She’s there to reassure him that she believes in him, and that he can do this. They’re going to get everyone back, and he needs to focus... then he asks her to slap him which why would you? that’s dumb, so Clementine smooches him instead and like.... he physically relaxes into her because he’s comfortable and trusts her in this situation. 

Also, he loves her and cares about this mission enough to cover himself and his fancy jacket in walker guts.... sure, he complains while doing so but how else is he gonna cope with rubbing rotten guts on himself to blend in with a herd of walkers? 

Skipping ahead so that we’re not here all day, I wanna talk about the walk back to the school because it’s one of the most important clouis moments in the game and a huge reason that solidifies why the comic is bullshit.

Louis went off on his own to go out and find them. He didn’t know where they would be, he just knew that he had to go out and find them after making sure everyone was okay back at the school because he couldn’t bare the thought that he had lost them. And the way the AJ gets so excited to see him? and the group hug??

At this point, Louis has grown so much as a character. With Clementine by his side to support him, he’s grown stronger and more reliable. Remember how he never thought about the future? Well, now he is because his relationship with Clementine has given him a reason to long for a future. He talks about building this imaginary house with her, one he knows they can’t physically build... but it’s his way of saying we can build a home together, that he wants a future with her and AJ and everyone else. It’s such a personal conversation that flows so easy between them. Louis is more comfortable talking to her about things from his past, which is something he didn’t want to do back in ep1. 

He confides in her how he’s feeling after he shot and killed Dorian, he tells her that having a home means protecting it and I just.... it’s so good, okay? And from Clementine’s side, you can feel how at ease she is with him, too. Just the way she smiles at him as they’re walking? like he’s the cutest thing and she’s so happy to have him with her? 

But then we gotta deal with Minerva’s crazy ass on the bridge and well, AJ shoots Tenn and Louis is having flashbacks to Marlon and it’s not great. That’s a whole thing, and he ends up separated from them while escaping.

We don’t get to see Louis’ reaction to Clementine getting bit and losing her leg since I guess that puts a damper on the overly happy ending. But, going off of what we know about him and what I’ve explained [which isn’t even all of it, this isn’t a full Louis character analysis. if it was, it would be much longer and in multiple parts... believe it or not, I’m trying to not make this too long and only sorta failing...] we can get an idea of how he would react. 

Um, to say he was upset is an understatement.

Because remember, he had no time to think and climbed over the fence, thinking he could get them to climb over and they could get away, but it didn’t work. He ended up leaving them in order to save himself since walkers were closing in on him.

But you know that he’d blame himself for the bite. A lot of, “if I had just stayed” and “I should’ve climbed back over, I should’ve stayed with you.” I’m sure there were points where it looked like Clem wouldn’t make it and I can’t imagine how much hurt he went through watching her suffer and heal from losing a leg like that. 

Not only that, but knowing that AJ was the one to do it? And him thinking about what Clem’s death would do to AJ after all this? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Louis would take care of AJ if she died. He cares about AJ, and he loves Clementine, so he be there for both of them, even if he’s still hurting from Tenn’s death. 

However, Clementine didn’t die. She survived the bite and amputation, and when we flashforward, she and Louis are still happily together. Louis is right there next to her at dinner, and he’s the one to help her with her crutches. He’s there to go over future plans to meet the traveling caravan, and Clementine wants him to be the one to go. 

Oh, and Louis once again forgives AJ for shooting Tenn, claiming that he understands that AJ saw something that he couldn’t. Like with Marlon, he’s not happy Tenn’s dead but he can see why AJ did it to save his life. 

I just..... happy ending. Clementine and Louis are together and she’s truly happy to have found a home for her and AJ with him at Ericson. 

....But then the comic thought it would be fun to say “nah.” 

The comic isn’t canon, I’m still insulted that it would ever consider itself as such, but even so I can’t help but feel so frustrated about how this would destroy Louis. 

He finally found someone he would consider his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She saw past that funny man persona and he trusted her enough to let her past this wall he built around himself. He let himself become vulnerable around her, he named his song after her. Their initials are carved into his piano with a heart surrounding them. He loved her. 

Clementine left him feeling loved, something he probably hasn’t truly felt since he was a little boy with his parents before their divorce. She loved him even after hearing his past because she knew that wasn’t him anymore, and she helped him build the confidence he needed to step up. Because of Clementine, Louis wants to enjoy every day while also looking at the future. He isn’t lonely anymore, he has her and AJ. He’s truly happy.

So to tell me that Louis would wake up one morning only to have AJ tell him that Clementine’s gone, she’ been planning an escape without telling anyone because she wasn’t happy...? I’m sorry, but if you think that wouldn’t leave Louis absolutely devastated, then you know nothing about him as a character. 

This idea is just.... look, Louis is perceptive. That’s a big part of his character, he’s perceptive of those around him. If Clementine was showing signs of being unhappy or depression, he would see it. He would notice a change. He would be able to tell if something was off, and he would ask her about it. Louis is the type of person to ask you what you need. What can he do to help? What do you need to feel better? And if you don’t know, it’s okay, he’ll help you figure it out in any way possible. 

Plus, the comic suggests that there are times where she went off on her own but came back [probably doing her escape prep ugh] and you expect me to believe that Louis wouldn’t notice that or wonder what she’s doing? Wouldn’t sense that something’s going on? 

After she’s gone, he’s going to blame himself for not being enough. He couldn’t make her happy and he was a fool to think he ever could. AJ lost the only family he’s known since he was born because Louis couldn’t help her, couldn’t do anything to stop her from leaving. 

And for him to realize that she didn’t love him? Clementine, the girl he thought the world of because of how strong and confident and in-charge she was, because she saw him for who he was..... she left him, abandoned him... and she couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.... that says that she didn’t care all that much about him in the end.

You KNOW that he would think he had this coming, too. How could the universe allow him to fall in love and be happy with someone who loved him back after what he did to his parents? He would feel so heartbroken that he would see this as some sort of karma for breaking up his parents happy marriage as a kid years before he ever met Clementine and before the apocalypse.

I fucking can’t.... I don’t have the words to fully explain how much I hate this. Louis wouldn’t be okay afterward, and I doubt he’d ever fully recover. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned before that Louis would stop playing piano. How could he sit there and play when I he can see is their initials and remember the night she confessed to him? When he named his song after her? Clementine left and took the music with her because Louis wouldn’t have it in him... something that he used to cope would be ruined and that’s just.... it’s fucking awful. 

Not only that, but now he has AJ who I assume is hurting just as much [though the comics inaccurately assume he would just let Clem go sooo... yeah] and he would be the only one Louis would really talk to about it, but then again.... what if AJ doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if AJ starts to act out and things just become terrible and Louis is just too overwhelmed? 

I just.... UGH. That’s how I feel. UGH. 

Clementine from the comic? Not her. She would never fucking do this to Louis, AJ, or anyone else at Ericson, and you would know that if you played the tfs. 

Sigh.... sorry, I just needed to get this all out. I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Clem leaving would affect Louis and I’ve gotten some asks/come across some posts about Louis that have left me incredibly annoyed.... well, I was annoyed before because of the comics, so my annoyances with those things were only heightened. So yeah... I wanted to talk about Louis’ character in hopes of explaining why he would be so hurt if this comic was canon. 

Which it’s not. So it’s fine. 

How are we all feelin’ at this point, by the way? I know I’m not the only one still annoyed with the comic, so I hope y’all are doin’ okay. Hope you’re stayin’ chill and thinking about your faves to help cope with this mess hahaha

#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg clouis #twdg aj #twdg marlon #twdg violet #clouis #twdg #sometimes i just need to talk about louis okay #one day i'll do a full character analysis that goes over everything #but today isn't that day #long post

[letarasstuff]

Still too itchy, too loud, too bright

(A/N): This can be read as a part two of “Too itchy, too loud, too bright” but it also stands alone, since it’s x teen!reader. I hope you enjoy reading it :)

Summary: Sensory overloads suck, also as a teenager. How can Spencer help his daughter going through them?

Warnings: Description of sensory overload (based on how I feel like when I get them and what the internet gets me)

Wordcount: 1.1k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________ She got them since she was a toddler. At first it was difficult to find the triggers and avoid them, but together with her father (Y/N) learned to deal with them: Sensory overloads.

Unfortunately she can’t always avert getting them. Today is an example for it.

The teenager feels generally uncomfortable for a few days already with school stress piling high, the dates of your exams moving closer and her patience with herself and other people running thinner with the days. In the end another episode was nearly inevitable.

It is Friday and (Y/N) counts the seconds until her last period ends. It’s not that pleasant to sit in a room full of pubescents teenage boys, who think body spray replaces a shower. Everybody, who enters the classroom, is met with a stinking wall consisting of at least eleven different sprays.

Before her sense of smell goes completely numb the bell indicates the class’s end. A sigh of relief slips past (Y/N)’s lips as soon as she exits the school building and gets her first breath of fresh air.

Buckling her messenger bag the teenager prepares herself to make her way to the next metro stop. But she stops as soon as she sees two familiar faces in the school’s parking lot.

“Dad! Aunt Emily! I didn’t know you wanted to pick me up!” Happily she gives both of them a hug. Spencer tells her something, but out of all sudden the noise level increases very sharply. He can see that his daughter gets disoriented by that, trying to spot the several sources of the different commotions.

“What about we get into the car?” He suggests, pointing his thumb at the vehicle, to underline his statement. Thankful for that (Y/N) nods and finds relief in the quietness inside the car.

After a few minutes of silence she pipes up: “Ok, I thought about something and as soon as I say this, you are not allowed to react in any way. It is a fact. I categorized the people I know and I decided that you, Emily, are the one to most likely fake her own death. And I got a question: Where are we going?”

Flabbergasted by the aforementioned ‘fact’, the godmother finds herself unable to answer. “We are driving to the diner that is a few blocks down from Quantico. I thought a lunch together would be a nice start to an off weekend,” Spencer says, turning around on the passenger seat and cheekily smiles at his child.

“No way, an entire weekend? The whole two and a half days?” For her it feels like Christmas and her birthday fell on the exact same day.

Shortly after that the little bell above the establishment’s rings as Emily opens the door, Reid and his daughter following suit. Inside they are met by a cozy ambiente, though it seems a little too cramped for (Y/N)’s liking.

Quickly they place their orders and hold interesting small talk while waiting. The longer they sit there, the more people come in and get their own table. The lunch rush just started and it seems like the diner is buzzing with customers and their own conversations. The level of noise is once again rising. Screams of an upset child, the crash of a dropped plate and the frying of meat in a pan fill her ears, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of drowning in the information all her senses send to her brain.

Suddenly everything her skin touches feels more intensive. May it be her hands on the leather of the small booth they sit in, that stick to it due to them getting sweaty. Or the fabric of her shirt that now scratches her more than ever. Or the elastic of her mismatched socks that are too tight on her ankles.

All of a sudden the world seems to be brighter. The artificial light above their head hurts the teenager’s eyes and so do the rays of sunlight coming through the window. Even the TV she sees in her peripherals sets something off in her.

The abrupt silence from his otherwise chatty child kind of forces Spencer to profile her micro expressions. The twitching of her hands and right eyebrow, sweat running down her forehead and the paleness of her skin. The agent immediately knows what is happening.

“Emily, get our order to go. I take (Y/N) to the car, it’s an episode.” The raven haired woman recognizes the code and nods. “I got some fidget toys and classical music in my car. Here’s the key.”

Gently Spencer ushers the teenager outside and into the car, careful to not touch her unnecessarily. As soon as they are inside, he gets her favorite fidget toy from the middle console and her noise cancelling headphones from her backpack. He gives both items to (Y/N), watching her putting the headphones on with trembling hands. While she calms down, the father tries to give her as much space as possible, knowing that she wants to ‘reset’ her senses.

Soon Emily enters and they drive in silence to the Reid’s apartment. It was self-explanatory that she won’t go up with them, seeing the current state the teenager is in.

A little later they sit together at the kitchen table, empty containers of food standing between pencils and coloring books for adults. “Do you want to talk about what was setting this episode off?” Spencer asks tentatively. But (Y/N) shakes her head. “No. Guess it just happened,” she tries to shrug it off.

“Sweetheart”, he attempts to get her attention by grabbing her hand, which she doesn’t retract. “Sensory overloads don’t just happen. All your senses get overwhelmed, they send too many information to your brain. I know you know the science behind it, so don’t go and shrug it off. You know what it was triggered by and I just want to tell you that I’m here when or if you want to talk with me about it. But please don’t act like nothing happened, do you understand?”

The teenager nods. “I understand. But I have to think about it all at first, then I’ll come to you. Can we just watch BBC Sherlock? I think drooling over Benebatch Cucumbercrick and Martin Freeman would do us good.” Laughing, Spencer agrees that a bit of “Benadriel Crumblebutter” can work magic and so they watch two seasons this and the next two the other day. In other words: A relaxed day at the Reid household after a storm.

Taglist:

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x teen!reader #x daughter!reader

[fruitcoops]

Accidental Family

Hey folks! This is one of two fics for the six month celebration of this blog! Woohoo! Blood on the Ice is one of the most popular series I've written, and expanding it into Josie’s (@prohibitionincurls ) Winging It world with her was unbelievably fun. Disclaimer: one of the OCs has ADHD and it is a central theme of the story--while Josie based some of his characteristics on her own experience, we both recognize that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. Thank you again for six amazing months, and I hope you enjoy!

Lots of love,

Eve <3

TW for mentioned injury

“Oh my god, they’re gonna kill me,” the kid whispered in a wavering voice, sounding much younger than he actually was as he left the penalty box.

“They’re not going to kill you,” Bowie soothed, still watching the tunnel where Remus had disappeared mere minutes earlier. From what he saw, there had been a bit of blood, but the bruising didn’t look too bad. Then again, there had barely been enough time for anything to visibly swell before he was whisked away.

“Can I just stay in the box?” Felix cast a look toward the Lions bench and his voice cracked. “They can’t yell at me in the box, right?”

“Hey. Look at me, Marty.” Bowie took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “The Lions are good guys. They’re not going to hurt you, but you did just fuck up one of their best friends. What would you do if someone hit me in the face?”

“Come on, man, I’m a terrible fighter. I don’t know how well I’d be able to defend your honor after something like that. It was an accident. Do you think they know it was an accident? Should I go tell them?”

“I know. They know. Loops definitely knows. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re a little cold at first.” He ruffled the rookie’s hair and turned back to the game; the Lions were moving fast and brutal, slicing right through their defense for yet another goal. Shit. Felix clearly felt bad enough already--losing the game wouldn’t make him feel any better. 

They ended up losing the game.

Bowie had figured it might happen; he would have had the same fire if it had been his teammate that got clocked like that. Hell, he used to have the same fire when he and Remus had played together, so he completely understood. 

That did not change the fact that once they got home, Felix was still borderline inconsolable. The 18-year-old wasn’t technically billeting with them, but the apartment he was renting just so happened to be in the same building, on the same floor, and right across the hall from his and Simon’s. This led to an informal adoption of the rookie and he was around their house at least five times a week, if not more. 

Felix Martin was a good kid, and that idea was confirmed when Kronk immediately took a liking to him; the cat loved nobody but the three of them. Bowie was grateful that he and Simon were there to quell some of the homesickness that came from moving out to a new city on his own for the first time. The transition was always tough, but they could provide a little support.

They parted ways from the team when the bus got back from the rink and drove to their building in silence. Once they made their way up the stairs and down the hall, Felix moved to go back to his apartment. 

“Nope,” Bowie said immediately, placing a hand on his shoulder and steering him through the door to his and Simon’s place. It wasn’t a good idea for Felix to be alone right now--there was nothing to do alone after a loss aside from beat himself up about it, and Bowie would be damned before he let that happen. 

Simon and Kronk were perched on the couch, but they both moved into the kitchen as soon as the door clicked closed. Simon took one look at the pair and carefully wrapped his arms around Felix; the kid practically melted. The three of them stood there for a moment until Simon pulled back a bit and tilted his head toward the living room. Felix nodded and Bowie followed the two, sharing the couch with Simon while the rookie curled up in the large armchair diagonal to them. 

He...well, if Bowie was being honest, Felix looked like hell. He chewed his lower lip like an anxious beaver and fiddled with the loose threads of the closest armrest; everything about him screamed discomfort. Bowie caught Simon’s worried glance in his periphery and let out a slow breath, trying to relieve at least a little of the tension in the room.

“You don’t have to relive it if you don’t want to. I saw the game. But if you want to talk about it…” Simon trailed off with a significant look.

Felix sighed and his shoulders caved in a bit. “It was just one of those moments. All of a sudden, I didn’t really have a grasp on what was going on, which feels like shit because I’ve been doing pretty well so far. I dunno. It was just...bad.” 

That was it. Bowie knew Felix had seemed a little off. When Felix mentioned he had ADHD at the start of the season during one of their ‘getting to know your neighbor’ chats, Bowie hadn’t thought much of it. But as they grew closer, he began to notice when Felix forgot to eat or drink, or got overwhelmingly excited about something, or when he suddenly spaced out. It wasn’t just Felix being Felix.

The whole team stepped up and became intensely protective, of course. They not only helped him remember meal times, but also scheduling, directions, and everything in between. Bowie felt especially responsible for reasons he didn’t entirely understand--there was just something about the kid’s sweet heart that struck a chord.

He also knew that Felix was highly emotionally intelligent, but had no concept of whether people liked him or not. He was someone who assumed the worst, all the time. So, Bowie decided to do the only thing he knew would work: after a few more beats of uncomfortable silence, he pulled his phone out, tapped a few buttons, and pressed ‘call’.

“Hey, Remus, are you alive?” 

An amused snort came from the speaker even as Felix blanched. “Hello to you, too, Bowie. Jeez, you’re worse than Sirius.  I’m one hundred percent alive, just a little swollen. Your rookie’s got a helluva shot, but maybe tell the kid to hit the puck and not my face next time.” 

Felix flushed red and put his face between his knees, though hearing the laughter in Remus’s voice and knowing that he was okay clearly took some of the weight off his shoulders. Bowie whooped internally and shot him a quick, reassuring smile.

“Yeah, the kid’s got spirit, but he’s also got ADHD. He’s great most of the time, but sometimes under extreme pressure he can’t figure out where the fuck he--or anything else around him--is. Something about focusing or neurons firing the wrong way, maybe? Either way, it’s why he’s a terrible fuckin’ driver.”

Felix flopped back against the chair with a groan. “How the hell am I supposed to know how far away the cars around me are based on the mirrors? And how am I supposed to park?!” 

Remus’s laugh echoed once again. “Don’t ask me, kid, I’m not allowed to drive, either. Not because I’m ADHD, but because I’m terrible at it.” 

“You can say that again!” a muffled voice called from behind Remus. 

“Please excuse my fiance,” Remus said politely. “He’s a jackass who’s trying to make me lay down again.”

Felix smiled, though it was a bit pained. “I didn’t get a chance to apologize earlier. That stick was totally on me. And--I mean, I heard some of the guys talking afterward and it sounded like you got pretty banged up, so I’m really sorry. Like, really sorry.”

“Hey, woah, you’re fine,” Remus soothed. Bowie recognized his ‘talking to newbies’ voice and hid a smile in the cuff of his hoodie. “It’s the name of the game, after all. Did Bowie ever tell you about the time I accidentally checked him into a wall? Or when I broke his visor with a puck? For context, this was when we were on the same team.”

“Or that time you kicked my legs out from under me and sent me sprawling across the ice during practice.”

“That one was on purpose.” 

Bowie glared at the phone, but Felix was snickering and his grin was genuine. It calmed him a bit. “Thanks, Loops.”

“No problem, kiddo.” Remus paused for a moment, then mumbled something inaudible to someone in the background before clearing his throat. “Bowie.”

“Yes?” Remus had never been a wild card, per se, but he certainly had a knack for asking strange questions out of the blue.

“Did you accidentally adopt a child or do my ears deceive me?”

Bowie was about to laugh at the absurdity of it, but then he took a moment to think, looking back and forth between Simon and Felix. “Fuckin’--maybe I did, Re, but he’s ours now. And if that’s the case, I’m going to formally request that you tell your fiance to quit being mean to my son.”

Remus laughed on the other end of the line. “Will do. Felix seems like a sweetheart, I’m glad he’s got you two.” 

Bowie nodded with a slight smile, even though Remus couldn’t see him. “So are we. I can practically sense Sirius hovering, so go let your boyfriend fuss over you for a little while.” 

An offended noise came from Remus’s side, followed by a lower laugh and the click of the call ending. 

Simon looked Felix dead in the eyes. “I’m seconding the ‘kid’ thing. You may just barely be a legal adult, but it doesn’t mean we can’t adopt you. Congrats on your new gay dads.” 

Felix’s bright laugh sent a wave of relief through Bowie. “You guys are only, like, eight years older than me.”

“Silence, spawn,” Simon said, pointing a playful finger at him as his grin widened into something sweet and lopsided. “Now both of you need to come eat something. I made cookies while you were getting pushed around for a living.”

Bowie was still worried about Remus’ face--he made a mental note to call the next day to check in--but all his concerns disappeared as Felix scooped the cat up for a snuggle and followed Simon into the kitchen. They may have lost the game, but he would lose a million Cups to keep that moment forever: his Simon fussing over them both, his cat purring in pure bliss, and his kid settling into place at last.

#remus lupin #sirius black #bowie #felix martin #simon #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #coops #hockey #adhd #blood on the ice #found family #prohibitionincurls #collab #fanfic #my fic

[junqkook]

— THE YOUNG WOLF (m.)

pairing; jungkook/reader genre; game of thrones au, angst, smut words; 23,003 rating; explicit

— synopsis; he was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. but when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. but war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

contents; stark jungkook, arranged marriage, (kind of) forced wedding, war, graphic depictions of violence, blood, murder (massacre, really), betrayal, manipulation, character deaths (minor and major), lovers to enemies to lovers, mutual pining (lots of pining), grief, loss, depression, trauma, reader’s dad slaps her once, infertility, slight dubcon if you squint (sort of but not really), alternating pov, virgin reader, jungkook’s got a big dick, very slight virgin kink, rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe!), breath play, masochism, some sadism, dom jungkook, manhandling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting/marking, fingering, dirty talk, possessiveness, riding.

— notes; this is based on a song of ice and fire by george r.r. martin (aka game of thrones). includes major spoilers for the series, however previous knowledge of game of thrones is not needed to understand the fic. please read the contents carefully before proceeding. also i’m so sorry this is so long, i couldn’t shut up.

the young wolf. the dragonrider. vipers in the sand. every rose has thorns. as good as gold. blood of the dragon. the king who knelt.        ↳ series masterlist.

JUNGKOOK

His eyes scanned the parchment, the dried ink settling his heart into his throat. He looked up at his mother and the maester, their worried eyes trained on him as he took only seconds to make a decision.

“Call the banners,” he said, voice gruff.

“All of them?” his mother asked quietly while the maester watched on.

“All of them.” Jungkook’s tone left no room for argument, his eyes cold as ice. “They all swore oaths to defend my father. Let us see now what their words are worth.”

The maester nodded his head and left the room as quickly as his old bones could carry him, the rings on the chains dangling off his shoulders signifying the many subjects he had mastered clanking with each step he took. Jungkook shut his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers as the words on the small scroll bounced around his head.

“Are you sure about this?” his mother asked him, coming to stand by his side and rest a hand on his shoulder.

Jungkook sighed and stood straighter before looking down at his mother. “The new king has labeled my father a traitor and keeps him in chains. This message is a royal summons that I cannot ignore.” He looked away from her dark eyes, clenching the parchment in his fist. “If he wants us to come south, we will. But we will bring an army of Northmen with us.”

His mother pursed her lips and nodded slowly, letting her hand fall away from his shoulder. “Whatever your decision, I will stand behind you.”

Jungkook smiled briefly at her. “If it’s a war the king wants, it’s a war he’ll get.”

YOU

“When will we arrive?” you asked your father, the horses trotting along the Kingsroad leisurely.

Your father, an older man with a gruff exterior and experience with war, grunted and shrugged a shoulder. “Your brother rode ahead of us. It shouldn’t be too much longer until we reach the Jeon boy.” You stayed quiet, letting your horse follow your father’s the rest of the way.

By the time you reached the camp, night had fallen and darkened the skies. Torches had been lit around the tents and along the way. Many men wandered around the grounds, chatting with their fellow Northmen. You turned forward again just in time to see your father unmount his horse and leave it to a squire from your household. You quickly followed suit, sliding off the saddle and handing the reins to the same boy, only a handful of years younger than you.

You knew your father was headed off to see the son of Lord Jeon, Warden of the North, and that he wouldn’t want you coming along. So you stayed behind, slinking in the shadows away from the torches, keeping a careful eye on your father until he reached a tent and ducked in through the flap, two men guarding it and prohibiting anyone else from entering.

You cursed under your breath and attempted to make your way to the side, but you could see one of the guards eyeing you suspiciously, thwarting your plan to eavesdrop on the lords inside. But it didn’t take long for your father to come out of the tent, a younger man right behind him.

When your father saw you, a sheepish smile creeping onto your lips, he rolled his eyes. He walked a few steps away from the tent, talking quietly to the man beside him, and waved you over. You hurried forward, stepping into place beside your father as he cleared his throat.

“My Lord,” he started, gesturing to you. “This is my eldest daughter.” You bowed your head slightly and peeked up at the man through your eyelashes, surprised to find him still looking at you and your heart leapt into your throat. Your father called your name again and then dropped his hand. “This is Lord Jeon’s eldest son of House Stark.”

“My Lord,” you said quietly, keeping your head bowed.

“It is good to meet you, my Lady,” he said kindly, bowing his own head. “My name is Jungkook.” The last part he murmured quietly, as if in an attempt to ease your nerves. It was just loud enough that you knew your father had heard him and your cheeks felt hot when Jungkook continued to watch you even after you had straightened, his eyes holding yours for a few moments that felt like an eternity.

The young lord then moved his eyes to your father, tilting his head respectfully before walking away. Your own eyes followed him, watching every step that he took farther and farther away from you. You snapped out of your daze when your father rested a heavy hand on your shoulder and drew your attention.

He had a strange look on his face, his lips twitching up briefly. “Let’s go find your brother.” You smiled and agreed, pausing just as he began to walk forward. Unable to resist the urge, you pivoted to look behind you for a few seconds before going after your father.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, focused on wrapping the bandage around the man’s leg and keeping it tight to stop the bleeding from worsening. The battle had been a success for Lord Jungkook and the North, as evidenced by the aftermath you now stood in. You were tending to the injured on the field, and you had lost count how many you had attempted to help.

Once you were done, you nodded to the man sitting to the side, signaling for him to take his friend elsewhere. You stood up and stretched your aching muscles for a few moments. A hand came down on your shoulder and you whirled around, eyes wide and breath catching in a startled gasp.

Your father was giving you a hard look, his bearded face covered in dirt and blood. You swallowed, but you didn’t have the chance to say anything.

“Go on,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of one of the tents. “Lord Jeon’s son is waiting for you.”

You turned to look at the tent he was referring to and bit your lip as you left him to walk over to the tent, your supplies and medicine still in the bag hanging at your hip. Once there, you ducked slightly as you shifted the flap to the side. Entering, you made eye contact with your Lord immediately.

He gave you a brief smile, seated on the edge of the table. You could see blood dripping down his fingers, but the fabric covering his arm was too dark to spot where his injury was.

“My Lord,” you greeted, bowing your head slightly.

“My Lady,” he returned, eyes still focused on you. “You did not need to come. The wound is nothing more than a scratch.”

Your eyebrows went up as you got closer, standing only a few feet away from him. “I mean no offense, my Lord,” you said playfully. “But mere scratches do not bleed as much as yours seems to.”

Lord Jungkook chuckled quietly, the sound causing a flutter in your belly. “My scratches seem to be special, then,” he replied, tone just as teasing as yours.

Unable to hide your smile, you ducked your head so he wouldn’t see instead. You peeked up at him and made to reach for his arm. “May I?” you asked. He nodded his head and held out his hand, which you took in your own. His skin was warm and sticky with blood, but you stopped your thoughts before they could spiral out of line. Pushing his sleeve up, you didn’t fail to notice the way he hissed quietly, his so-called scratch coming into view quickly.

“Is this scratch too big to be mended?” he asked you quietly as you examined it.

You shook your head, running your hands up his arm to the slice on his forearm. “No,” you told him. “But you will need this stitched up. I’m afraid this scratch is too deep to simply bandage up and send you on your way.”

“Stitch it up for me, then,” he commanded, though his voice was soft. When you looked up from his arm, startled, his dark eyes were just as soft.

“Alright.” You swallowed nervously and looked around, spotting a few chairs around the table he was sitting on. “Would you mind moving to the chairs, my Lord? It might take some time.”

He stood without a word and you stumbled back to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. Lord Jungkook dragged two chairs over to where you stood, placing them so they faced each other, and then sat down in one. He raised his eyebrows at you until you sat in the chair opposite him. You looked down to sift through your bag, taking out a thread and needle that had already been prepared from others that had needed stitching as well.

Once you had what you needed, cleaning the needle with a bottle of alcohol that was on the table, you reached out and took his hand in yours gently. You ran your hand up his arm and bent over it, looking up at him with a wince.

“This will hurt, my Lord,” you warned quietly. “Would you like for me to get you some Milk of the Poppy?”

Your Lord shook his head. “No, that’s alright. It is nothing I can’t handle.”

“Excuse me for being adamant, my Lord,” you continued, looking at him properly now. “This is no time to let pride take hold.”

His lips twitched up into a smile. “Do your work, my Lady,” Jungkook replied. “If the pain is too great, I will scream.”

You huffed, turning back down to his wound. You bit your lip and started to sew it shut, wincing every time his muscles tensed under your hands. You were grateful that you had the stomach for it, or you would have to clean the remnants of your pitiful lunch off the floor. You made quick work of the wound, surprised that he did not let out a sound other than a grunt every time the needle pierced his skin and tugged it.

“There,” you mumbled, tying the thread and slipping a knife from your bag to cut the excess.

“Will you bandage it now?” Jungkook asked, his chest moving up and down slowly. There were beads of sweat running down his face.

“Yes,” you replied. You took out the bandaging and started to wrap it around his arm, taking great care not to tighten it so much that it would hurt him. As you worked, you brought up something that had been nagging at the back of your mind. “I heard that you captured the kingslayer during the battle.”

There was no reply for a few moments, the only sounds the faint ones of the men outside the tent. “You have quite the open ears,” he finally said amusedly.

“So I’m right?”

Lord Jungkook chuckled. “You are. He is bound and being held as prisoner.”

You finished bandaging his arm. “Will you use him to bargain for Lord Jeon’s release?”

Looking up, you met his eyes easily. “You’re quite clever, you know,” he said. “I will use him to bargain, yes. The new king will want his uncle back safe.” You gnawed on your bottom lip, your question on the tip of your tongue and just barely being held back by your teeth. Your Lord noticed and sat back in his chair across from you, resting his injured arm across his lap. “Go on, ask whatever it is you’d like.”

Your eyes nearly sparkled as you met his, sitting up straight in your chair. “How did you capture the kingslayer? I heard there was some distraction—”

“Yes, I sent two thousand men down the Kingsroad,” Jungkook explained. “They distracted the kingslayer’s larger forces, led by his father, while I took the rest of my men to the Twins. We ambushed the kingslayer there and he fell into our trap easily. The man has gotten too comfortable in his abilities.”

You hummed. “Very strategic, my Lord. How many men did you lose? I helped where I could with the injured, and there were quite a lot of them.”

Jungkook’s face shut down and he leaned forward again. “Has your father spoken to you?” he asked quietly. When you shook your head, he reached out hesitantly and then rested his hand on your knee. It felt warm through the fabric of your dress. “We lost those two thousand men, and another few hundred during the ambush.” Your heart started to beat harder in your chest. “Among them was your brother.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. He looked sympathetic, his hand on your knee heavy and distracting. You stood from the chair, dislodging his comforting grasp, and he jerked back to avoid your skirts in his face. “No, you’re wrong, you—you must have—”

Lord Jungkook rose as well, standing before you with a frown on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said gently, reaching out and taking your shoulders in his hands. He pulled you closer to him, voice softening when he could feel the trembling in your limbs. “I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you stared at him, almost unseeing. He was saying something, but you couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. “No,” you whispered to yourself, your tears starting to slip out. “He can’t—he can’t be dead, he can’t be—”

The Lord pulled you in, crushing you to his chest. You stared at a point on the tent over his shoulder as his hand ran down your back, his cheek pressed to your hair, but still warm. The furs around him were tickling your skin and his breath was warm on your neck when he spoke, though you had no idea what he was saying.

It didn’t feel real, what he’d just told you, the way his arms felt around you, the whispers against your skin. Nothing felt right. You wanted to push him away, wanted to forget what he had said, wanted to go back in time to before the battle—but you couldn’t. And you knew the only thing holding you up was his embrace.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when your senses came back to you, but Lord Jungkook’s arms remained firm around your body, and his head had not moved from its place against your hair. His hand was rubbing your back comfortingly and you felt heat warm your cheeks.

Lifting your hands to his chest, you pushed him back lightly. He looked at you curiously when he moved only inches away from you, hands still pressed warm against your back. “My Lord,” you whispered, cheeks flushed with heat and voice thick. “I—”

“My Lord!”

You startled, turning to look at the entrance of the tent, where a squire had just come in. The young boy was staring at the two of you, locked in an inappropriate embrace, his eyes darting between you. Lord Jungkook cleared his throat and dropped his arms, turning to face the squire, and you inched back slightly, lowering your head—though you knew the boy must have seen you and known who you were. You only hoped he would not spread rumors of what he thought you must have been doing.

“Yes?” he replied. “What is it?”

“The—the kingslayer, my Lord,” the boy stuttered. “He is bound and awaits your audience.”

“Yes, I will be there immediately,” Lord Jungkook said. “You go ahead. I have… things to attend to.”

The young squire’s eyes landed on you for a brief moment before he bowed and took his leave. You were gnawing on your bottom lip hard enough that it was painful. The fleeting moment had passed, taking along with it the ease with which you had forgotten to grieve. With the prying eyes of the squire gone, you returned to feeling like there was an ache in your chest, a gaping hole that felt like your brother’s sweet smile; he had never been cruel, a man too young and too kind for war.

“My Lady,” Lord Jungkook started, reaching out and gently taking your hand. “I am deeply sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do to ease your pain—” He paused, meeting your eyes intensely. His grip was firm on your hand and his eyes were soft as he watched you. “Please let me know.”

You bowed your head, not knowing what to say to him. The loss still didn’t feel completely real and you weren’t sure if it ever would. You had a feeling that you would still wait every day for your brother to walk into your line of sight, laughing and ready to tell you everything he had done.

Barely able to muster up a smile, you squeezed his hand in return. “Thank you,” you said sincerely. “I will keep that in mind.”

He seemed pleased, a smile breaking out on his face. “I must take my leave now, forgive me. But I thank you for your assistance tonight.” You nodded and he turned away, grabbing his sheathed sword and belt before he left the tent. You met his eyes again when he quickly looked over his shoulder at you, smiling sadly and walking out from under the tent flap.

You followed suit after a few minutes and numbly walked back to your father’s tent, where you found him sitting in a heavy silence. Your knees felt weak and you fell to the ground, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Your father barely looked over at you, his gaze burning a hole into the grass in front of him. You fisted your hands in your skirts until your fingers started to hurt.

And you wept.

JUNGKOOK

He walked with heavy footsteps toward the cell his men had made for the kingslayer. He’d given up part of his freedom to get his hands on the man and succeeded. But his chest was heavy with the sacrifice his men had given for it to be a possibility.

Walking into the cell, he laid his eyes on the man, whose blonde hair was sticking to his face with sweat and dirt. With a wolfish smile, the bound man opened his mouth. “My Lord,” the kingslayer greeted mockingly. “Why haven’t you sent me to one of your bannermen’s castles? Instead you drag me with you to your camp; I dare say you’ve grown fond of me.”

Jungkook had to hold back his sneer, tilting his head to the side instead. He observed the kingslayer’s bonds, his seated position leaving him vulnerable. His hands were bound behind his back to a pole his men had dug into the ground. Seeing him in a similar to position to how he presumed his father to be, all the way in King’s Landing, gave Jungkook a twisted sense of pleasure.

“If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight. My bannermen would receive a raven with a message: ‘Release my son and be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your House will be destroyed root and stem.’”

The kingslayer raised a brow at his words. “You don’t trust the loyalty of the men following you into battle?”

Jungkook held back a scoff, though his lips did twitch upwards for a second. “Oh, I trust them with my life.” He paused and took in the sight of the Lannister man again, feeling powerful as he towered over him. “Just not with yours.”

The kingslayer chuckled humorlessly. “Smart boy.” Jungkook couldn’t stop the twitch at his words. Of course, the kingslayer took notice of it and tilted his head, his dirty hair falling over his face. “What’s the matter? Don’t like being called ‘boy?’ You feel insulted?”

There was a low growl from behind the cage in the darkness. Jungkook could see the way his body tensed, head shifting to try to get a look behind the cage to no avail. Footsteps echoed in the night, the rumble of the growl low and the short pants sending a chill through the air.

Jungkook’s voice was just as low when he spoke. “You insult yourself, Kingslayer.” The man’s eyes darted to the opposite side as the beast came into view outside the bars, circling it slowly. “You’ve been defeated by a boy. You’re held captive by a boy.” Jungkook paused, a small smile playing at his lips when the kingslayer’s wide eyes remained solely focused on the grey and white fur of the large direwolf as it came to a stop beside Jungkook. “Perhaps you’ll be killed by a boy.”

The direwolf, on all four legs, was nearly half the size of Jungkook himself. He was sure if the beast stood on its hind legs, it would be taller than himself. The pleasure twisting inside of his belly grew stronger at the look on the kingslayer’s face, stiff and fearful. Jungkook slowly brought a hand to rest on the back of his companion, fisting the fur gently in his gloved fingers.

“I’m sending your cousin down to King’s Landing with my peace terms,” Jungkook informed him, comforted by the presence of his wolf.

The kingslayer swallowed roughly and glanced up at him before returning his eyes to the terrifying beast. “If you think my father will negotiate with you, you don’t know him very well.”

“No. But he’s starting to know me.”

The man scoffed. “A few victories don’t make you a conquerer.”

“No,” Jungkook mused, smirking and releasing his loose hold on his direwolf. “But it’s better than a few defeats.” The wolf’s growling grew louder, until it almost drowned out the sound of his voice. “Sleep well, Kingslayer.”

Turning swiftly, Jungkook left the cage and allowed his smile to linger at the sound of his direwolf’s snapping teeth and the rattling of the kingslayer’s chains.

As he walked through the camp, he nodded his head respectfully at the people who greeted him. His eyes raked across the fields, looking for you in particular even though he knew he shouldn’t. You were probably still reeling from the news he’d given you earlier. Jungkook couldn’t quite halt the thoughts of how you had felt in his arms and against his body, like you belonged there, and he couldn’t quite hate himself for it either.

As if the gods had smiled down on him, he bumped right into you while scanning the people for your face. Jungkook’s hands found your arms, steadying you on the ground after the impact. You let out a soft noise and backed away, flustered. You looked adorable, standing in front of him, barely illuminated except for the light of the torches.

“My Lord,” you greeted him, bowing your head. When you looked back up, he could see how red your eyes were and how puffy your face was. His chest tightened with sympathy for a moment and he had to shove his tongue against the inside of his cheek when he started thinking about how beautiful you still looked.

“My Lady,” he replied. “How are you?”

You smiled briefly at him. Jungkook wanted to crush you to his chest right then and there. He clenched his fingers tightly into fists. “I’m well. How is your arm, my Lord?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, taking the sight of you in silently. “My scratch is doing fine, thanks to you.” You chuckled quietly and he couldn’t help the smile on his face at the sound. “I am in your debt, my Lady.”

You shook your head quickly, lifting your hands up in front of your chest. “No, my Lord, there is no debt to be paid. It was my duty.”

“Still, I did not wish to trouble you—”

“It was no trouble at all, really!” you interrupted. “I was happy to do it, my Lord.”

“Very well, then.” Jungkook’s smile softened. “Goodnight, my Lady. I hope you are able to rest tonight.”

Your small smile fell and your eyes fell downward, toward the grass. “Yes, thank you, my Lord. Goodnight.”

As you walked off without another word, Jungkook kicked himself internally. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but he wished he could comfort you. He knew there was no way to comfort you, it wouldn’t be proper. Especially not when—

No. It was best not to dwell too much on such thoughts. Jungkook sighed heavily and turned back toward his tent, his thoughts torn between you and the strategies he still needed to go over.

YOU

Awoken by shouts and the clinging of armor, you sat up straight in your cot. Too drowsy to really focus on anything that was being said, you hurried to get out of bed and start to get dressed, haphazardly fixing your hair as you did. When you deemed yourself presentable enough, you raised the flap of the tent and squinted at the bright sunlight, heart pounding.

The men were running back and forth, voices loud and barely comprehendible. But you did manage to catch a snippet of what was being said as you walked a little closer, avoiding the soldiers as they frantically ran about.

“The Kingslayer! He’s escaped!”

“Where is Lord Jeon?!”

“How did he escape?”

Mouth falling open in shock, you hurried to find your father and Lord, even if you knew it wasn’t truly your place to intrude on either. Logical thoughts, however, were not your biggest concern at the moment. You found them in Lord Jeon’s tent, slipping inside to the raised voices of everyone inside. They barely noticed you.

“What have you done?” Lord Jeon’s voice growled. You heard him before you saw him, stood almost at the opposite end of the tent, his face twisted with rage. Before him was his mother, her hair pinned back as it usually was. In front of you were the many lords, your father included. You stayed silent, standing behind them and near the entrance, too afraid of drawing attention in the tense atmosphere.

“Jungkook, please,” his mother pleaded, voice gentle. “It was for—“

“I don’t care what it was for!” he interrupted, throwing his arms out in frustration. “What were you thinking? He was our prisoner!”

“I did it to save your father!” she screamed back, desperation filling her voice. “He swore to return him to us! That’s what we’re fighting for—“

“He’s an oathbreaker! Have you lost your mind? Do you know what I had to do to secure his capture?” Lord Jeon stopped for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose between gloved fingers. “Two thousand men lost their lives so we could capture the kingslayer. You had better pray to all the gods that he does not break his word and returns my father safely.” His voice was dangerously low and he turned to face away from his mother, as if he couldn’t stomach to look at her. “All of you, leave.”

You quickly stepped out, keeping yourself at the side of the tent’s entrance before the men could begin to shuffle out. Once they had all exited, you saw his mother being led out of the tent with more than one guard. Biting your lip, you waited a few more moments before gathering the courage to step inside the tent, eyes finding Lord Jeon’s hunched frame over the table.

“My Lord?” you asked hesitantly, lingering by the entrance of the tent.

His head shot up, pleasant surprise etched into his features. He smiled at you kindly and you almost couldn’t believe he had just been yelling at his mother a few moments ago. Lord Jeon said your name softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering how you were,” you said.

“That’s very kind of you,” he replied, walking around the table and gesturing at the chairs. You followed suit and sat in the chair beside the one he took, fidgeting with your hands. “We’ll be moving camp today, to Riverrun.”

You nodded your head. “I will be sure to have all of my things ready.” You paused, unsure exactly how to bring the topic up. “I’m sorry that you lost the prisoner, my Lord,” you eventually settled on, voice barely above a whisper.

Lord Jeon looked tense, but he reached out hesitantly and rested his hand over yours. You clenched your hands tighter in your lap so that you wouldn’t do something mad, like hold his hand.

“It’s not your fault,” he said. His hand was hot on top of yours despite the cold weather. “During times of war, we must prepare for losses. Even without the Kingslayer, the North will not bend to the will of the boy-king in the South.”

Silence fell upon the two of you, though you could faintly hear the commotion of the men outside of the tent. The light inside was dim, casting shadows across Lord Jeon’s face as he watched you, his hand still resting atop yours. You could feel your body heating up from his touch, gnawing on your lip as you considered what you should do. You turned your hand under his, clasping his fingers in yours, and looked directly at him, meeting his wide eyes.

You leant forward, eyes darting down to his lips. You knew it wasn’t proper, that you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself even if you had wanted to. All was quiet save for your breaths, steady and deep as you moved closer and closer, fingers tight around his. You could feel his breath on your lips, so close that your noses almost touched, when his other hand came to grasp your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning back and away from you. Your heart thudded in your ears, eyes wide as you watched him move. His hand slipped out of yours and he removed his other from your shoulder. His lips were drawn into a thin line.

“No, I—“ you cut yourself off to take in a shaky breath, standing from the chair and lowering your head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, my Lord, I shouldn’t have presumed—“

Lord Jeon stood as well, stepping closer to you. When you swallowed roughly and took half a step back, he seemed to come to his senses and halted sheepishly. “No, it’s not that,” he interrupted you. He sighed heavily, dropping his hands to his sides. “I’m betrothed to a Frey girl,” he finally said, so quietly you almost couldn’t hear him.

“Oh,” was all you said in return.

Before you could truly process what that meant, your lord continued. “We had to pass through the Twins to get to the Kingslayer’s forces,” he explained. “There had to be negotiations made with Lord Frey. His condition to let us through was for me to marry one of his daughters.”

You finally looked at him, clasping your hands in front of you tightly. “Oh,” you repeated.

“I—“ Lord Jeon stopped himself, gazing back at you almost desperately. He seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t get the words out—or wouldn’t.

You steeled yourself and took in a breath. “Regardless, please forgive me, my Lord. It was not proper nor my place to do such a thing.”

Lord Jeon’s face softened as he looked at you. “There is nothing to forgive, my Lady.”

You bowed your head slightly. “I wish you good fortune with your bride-to-be,” you continued, almost choking on the words. “Please excuse me.” You heard him faintly murmur what you assumed to be a dismissal and you took your leave, walking straight out of the tent and back towards your own without looking back.

Your name was called by a soldier, catching your attention as you finished cleaning the wounds of the young boy in front of you. You turned to meet his gaze, blinking up at him curiously from your crouched position.

“Lord Jeon wants to see you,” the man said, a smirk on his face.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, simply nodding your head and finishing up with the patient you were currently bandaging up. You hadn’t seen or spoken to Lord Jeon in days, too afraid and embarrassed to go looking for him again—not after what he’d told you the last time. Your face felt hot as you recalled the memory, chiding yourself for acting so impulsively and improperly. What had you been thinking, trying to kiss your lord?

You found him in his usual tent, alone. You swallowed nervously as you walked in with your bag of medical supplies. The last time you had been alone with him had been disastrous. He looked up at you with a small smile.

“Hello,” he said easily.

“Hello,” you replied, your voice quiet. You walked over to the chair he was seated at, the map and plans for his next move in front of him on the table. His attention, however, was focused solely on you. “You wanted to see me, my Lord?”

“Yes,” he responded without missing a beat. “I seem to have gotten another scratch.”

“I see.”

He tilted his head to the side, almost playfully. “Would you mind terribly if I asked you to treat me, my Lady?”

You ducked your head, biting back a smile. “Of course not, my Lord. Where is the scratch?”

Lord Jeon chuckled, shifting to put his leg out closer to you. When you took a closer look, you could see that there was blood pooling over his knee and his pants were torn higher up along his thigh. You swallowed past the quickly forming lump in your throat, glancing up at him briefly as you crouched down between his legs. The air suddenly tensed, as if there wasn’t enough oxygen to inhale, and you wondered if it was just you who felt like this.

You pulled out a pair of scissors from your bag after you set it beside you, fixing your position so you were comfortably on your knees. You set a hand on his thigh, trying not to think about how firm the muscles felt under your palm. You dragged your fingers along the tear in the fabric, pulling it up so you could cut away from the wound. You had to force your breathing to remain steady as you got to work cleaning the large gash on his thigh.

“We managed to push back the Lannister army,” Lord Jeon said quietly, cutting through the tense atmosphere while you worked. “We took two Lannister boys as well.”

You perked up slightly. “Have you caught the Kingslayer yet?”

He sighed. “No, he was nowhere to be found, the coward. And to think they call him the greatest swordsman alive.”

“He’s no match for you, I’m sure,” you quipped.

Lord Jeon chuckled. “Of course not.”

After another brief silence, you grabbed your thread and needle to stitch his wound, just as you had before. “This will hurt, my Lord.”

“We’ve had this conversation before,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes playfully and started to stitch, sticking the needle through the skin at the end of the wound. “Who are the Lannister boys you captured?”

“Distant cousins of the Kingslayer,” he said, though his voice was pitched low. “They’re just boys.”

“How old are they?”

“Thirteen and eleven.”

Your eyes widened, but you continued to work on the wound as carefully as you could. “That’s very young.”

“Too young,” Lord Jeon replied.

A few more moments passed as you worked, your eyes never leaving his wound. “Why did you call for me, my Lord?” you finally asked, barely able to gather the courage to do it. “There are many nurses to treat the wounded.”

When he didn’t respond, you worried that you had overstepped, but then his gloved hand came to rest atop your head. You stopped your stitching and looked up at him in surprise, shocked to find his expression a mix between regret and tenderness. His thumb was gently stroking your hair, almost like a subconscious movement. “I trust you.” The hand on your head, even through the glove, felt unbelievably warm on your head and you couldn’t stop the shiver that shot through your spine. “And it wouldn’t do to have the others see their lord wounded.”

You wanted to kiss him.

He was promised to another, meant for another to hold and to love and to kiss. But when his hand lingered on yours for a moment too long to be proper, and when his eyes held yours for a beat too long to be a passing glance, you allowed desire to creep into your veins, to take root inside your heart. Perhaps before you might have been permitted to love him freely. Perhaps he might have even been promised to you instead. But war was no place for the wants and desires of two people, no matter how much they yearned for it to be.

You swallowed, opening your mouth to say something, when Lady Jeon rushed in with a few guards, a paper clutched tightly in her fist. Your head snapped over to look at them, your position provocative from behind the table. Body flushing with heat, you moved away as far as you could without pulling the thread of the needle, and Lord Jeon quickly removed his hand from your head.

“What is it?” he asked after clearing his throat. He beckoned them over to the side of the table the two of you were on. They approached cautiously, but you could see the line of his mother’s shoulders relax when she was close enough to see that you were mending his wound.

“It’s your father,” she told him with a broken voice. “They’ve executed your father.”

There was silence in the tent and you looked up at Lord Jeon’s face, his pain and shock written all over it for everyone to see. He started to move, but you quickly pressed down on his thigh, catching his attention.

“My Lord,” you said. “You mustn’t move. The wound is not properly mended yet.” He looked down at you with stony eyes and you almost flinched away, but you ducked your head and worked to finish stitching his broken skin with your trembling fingers.

“What,” Lord Jeon began with a voice that sounded almost like that of a wolf’s growl, “happened?”

Lady Jeon dropped the parchment on the table in front of her son. You couldn’t see her face for she stood behind you, but you attempted to complete your work as quickly as you could. He picked the parchment up off the table and his eyes took in the words harshly.

“Treason?” Lord Jeon scoffed. “Father? He is no traitor. The new king fancies himself a man, labeling my father a traitor of the Seven Kingdoms and taking his head.” You barely recognized the edge in his voice, unlike you’d ever heard it before. “Guards, escort my mother back to her tent. We arrive in Riverrun tonight.”

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious—“ his mother started, but he silenced her quickly.

“You released my prisoner for the sake of my father’s safety,” he said bluntly. “Now he has been beheaded, his name smeared with the word ‘traitor,’ and the Kingslayer is probably drinking and whoring himself back in King’s Landing. You will be confined to your chambers indefinitely.” His voice dipped low, dangerous, and you had just barely managed to finish your stitching, tying the thread and cutting it with the scissors. “The only reason you’re still breathing for your treasonous acts is because you are my mother.”

Once the guards had escorted Lady Jeon out of the tent and toward her own, you shifted back a bit, your knees aching when you moved them. You opened your mouth to excuse yourself, sure that Lord Jeon would want to be alone, but before you could get to your feet or say a word, his arms had wrapped around you and pulled you in close.

Your face was crushed into the furs of his coat, his hands holding your crouched body as close as he could to his chest. He had pulled you in closer between his thighs, until the two of you were flush against one another. You didn’t know how to react, the needle and scissors still in your hands as you held them still over his thighs.

His fingers carded through your hair. You could feel him rest his head atop yours, breath fanning the strands. “Please stay,” he whispered into your hair. “Don’t go.”

Instead of replying, you released your tools to fall to the ground and wrapped your arms around his midsection, turning your face so that your cheek rested on his torso. He buried his face into your hair, clutching you tighter at your silent compliance. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could hear his own heart beating at a quick rhythm.

You stayed there, in that same position, for what felt like an eternity. You were just as reluctant to let go of him as he seemed to be of you, the only sounds filling the tent your mingling breaths and the quiet whimpers of a boy who had too heavy of a burden to carry.

Everyone was gathered for the victory feast, meat and fruits littering the tables set across the camp. It wouldn’t be long until the forces reached Riverrun. Night had fallen and you sat idly beside your tense father, eating silently even as the men around you started to debate which king they should pledge to fight alongside against the boy-king in the southern capitol. Your eyes kept flickering up from your plate of food to find Lord Jeon, who was seated at the middle table with his mother and a few other lords.

One of the many lords stood from his table, walking to the middle to continue the debate. “The course of action is clear! We should swear fealty to the Baratheon boy and march our forces South.”

Lord Jeon cut in, still seat at his table but turned to face the rest of the soldiers. “We cannot swear fealty to the Baratheon boy. He is not King.”

“My Lord,” another soldier spoke up. “Do you mean to pledge us to the boy-king? He put your father to death—“

“That doesn’t make the Baratheon king,” Lord Jeon argued. “He is the youngest brother of the late king. Just as my brothers cannot be Lord of Winterfell before me, he cannot be King of the Seven Kingdoms before his older brother.”

Lord Umber stood abruptly, interrupting all of the arguments. “My lords,” he started, walking leisurely until he was in the middle. His stance commanded the attention of everyone. “Here’s what I say to these two kings.” After a brief pause, he spat on the ground, drawing a few chuckles from the soldiers—and yourself included. You didn’t much care for either of these kings, as you would never be going South after this war was won—your place, and everyone else’s here, was in the North.

The lord continued, voice rising as he grew more passionate with every word. “The two of them mean nothing to me. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of war? Of the Wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong!” You found yourself laughing heartily alongside your father and the others, eyes falling on Lord Jeon briefly. There was a small smile on his face and you found your own dwindling at the sight. “Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we bowed to. And now the dragons are dead!”

There was a murmur of agreement throughout the now hushed group, and you could see heads nodding as he continued his speech.

Lord Umber drew his sword easily, turning his body and pointing the tip at Lord Jeon. “There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to.” The camp was completely silent, the only sounds the crackling of the fire. Lord Umber dropped to one knee, digging the very tip of his sword into the grass in front of him and holding the hilt tightly. “The King in the North!”

Your eyes were wide and your breath caught as you watched the scene unfold before you. Lord Jeon’s dark hair was swept handsomely across his forehead and his dark eyes were trained on the kneeling lord in front of him.

Another lord stood, this time from your table, and approached Lord Umber. “I’ll have peace on those terms. They can keep their red castle. And their iron chair, too!” He kneeled beside Lord Umber and in front of Lord Jeon, drawing his sword and digging it into the grass. “The King in the North!” he repeated loudly.

Lord Jeon stood from his place, looking down at the two men with something like awe in his expression. You knew you must have mirrored his look, but it was directed at him. As others rose to their feet, your father included, all drawing their swords and lifting them in the air, you looked around in astonishment.

“The King in the North!” they all shouted. “The King in the North!”

And standing amidst his people, all cheering for their new king, Jungkook appeared to you not as a boy taking his father’s role, but as a man worthy of the crown of his people.

Your breath felt labored, the blood rushing in your ears nearly drowning out the calls of everyone around you. You stayed seated, lips parted as the North gained a new king and its independence, its freedom, back. Your eyes couldn’t stray from your king’s form, tall and powerful among the lords rallied around him, and your chest was tight with a feeling you knew all too well and wished not to recognize.

You had been given your own chambers once the Northern forces had reached the Riverrun keep weeks ago. There had been another battle, one that you had witnessed crumbling from the moment King Jungkook’s uncle had gone off on his own instead of listening to the strategy the new king had told him. That argument had not been a pretty one, after all was done and the Lannister forces were forced to flee—he had wanted to trap the Lannister army between them, unable to retreat back to the South, but thanks to the insubordination they had been able to make a full retreat.

Walking down the hall, you made your way down the now familiar route to the king’s chambers. You were always discreet, but with a place this large and servants bustling about at all hours, it had only been a matter of time before rumors began to spread of the two of you.

You opened the door after you knocked, his voice signaling for you to enter. “My King,” you greeted with a small bow of your head. Once you had secured the door shut behind you, the king in the north beckoned you over to where he sat on the edge of the large bed.

“How many times must I remind you to call me Jungkook?” he asked.

“As many as you wish, my King,” you teased. Sitting beside him on the bed, he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you close. “How is it today?” you asked softly, lifting your own arms and embracing him back. You let one hand trail up to his hair, running your fingers through the dark strands.

He sighed into your neck and you had to suppress a shiver. “Better now that you’re here.”

“You really ought to let me give you some milk of the poppy,” you told him gently.

You could feel him shake his head against your shoulder. “The only thing I need to soothe me is to have you here, in my arms.” You didn’t respond, simply playing with his hair. This had become a nightly ritual for the two of you—your king summoned you to his chambers discreetly and you appeared, his request from the first night to just let him hold you until the tremors subsided still ringing true now weeks later. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into your skin. “I know this is unfair of me to ask of you.”

You shook your head, swallowing past the lump in your throat. You didn’t have the right to touch him like you were, to hold him as you were, but you wished for it to never end regardless. You knew that, eventually, you would have to hand him over to his betrothed, to a woman who was a stranger to him and to you; she would be the one wrapped up in his arms, clutching him to her breast and running her fingers through his hair. You selfishly prayed that day would never come.

“You can ask anything of me, Jungkook,” you whispered back, hugging him closer.

Neither of you said another word for the rest of the night, content with listening to the other’s calm breathing and the feel of your bodies pressed together in a sweet embrace. Once it was time, the two of you growing tired, Jungkook pulled away and lifted his hands to cup your face. His fingers brushed back your hair. You blinked blearily up at him, your arms slipping away from his body to rest on your lap.

“Go rest,” he said softly. “I’ve kept you long enough.”

You smiled at him, nodding your head, but he kept his hands on your cheeks. His thumbs trailed back and forth on your skin and he gazed at you for a long time, until your breathing started to deepen and your fingers started to shake. Finally, he released you from his gentle grasp, sitting back and watching as you gathered yourself and left his chambers as quietly as you could, just as he did every night.

The walk back to your own chambers was quiet, the rest of the castle fast asleep or outside on duty. Once you were curled up in your bed, sleep overtook you quickly. As you drifted off to the land of dreams, you thought you could almost still feel your king’s arms circling you.

You woke as early as you usually did, stretching and preparing for the day ahead of you. You knew you wouldn’t see Jungkook again until the night, as he was busy with his advisors and planning his next move against the Lannisters. You found your way to the kitchens, sneaking a few pieces of fruit and bread, dropping them in your bag.

Making your way down to the dungeons, the guard sighed and let you through the door easily; he had long given up arguing with you over it.

Two pairs of blue eyes met yours with excitement as the guard unlocked the cell and let you in. The two young boys smiled up at you easily, excited to see you. It broke your heart, how happy they seemed just to have another person come to them.

“Good morning, boys,” you greeted, digging through your bag. “I brought you some breakfast.” Their small hands took the food gratefully, quickly digging in to eat. Your chest twisted with something painful, watching them. “Did they bring you supper?”

Martyn, the older Lannister boy, shook his head. “No. One of the men said that Lannisters should learn what hunger really feels like.”

You bit your lip, brows furrowing at the bit of information. You stayed silent, watching the two young boys eat ravenously, and your heart ached for them. Once they had finished, you pulled out a cloth from your bag and knelt in front of them. They blinked at you but did not move.

“Martyn, don’t you know how to keep yourself clean?” you chided, though you didn’t mean it. The boy looked sheepish as you cupped one of his cheeks to hold his face still, using the cloth in your other to wipe away the bits of food stuck around his mouth. You wiped away the grime and dirt sticking to his face from the cold, small cell as well before moving on to do the same for Willem, who eagerly let you clean his face—you supposed the eleven year old must have seen you as a surrogate mother figure while he was being held away from his real one. You swallowed roughly at the thought of how worried their mother must be, wondering where her sons were and if they were even alive.

“Will you come back again?” Willem asked innocently, lifting one of his small hands to grab part of your dress.

You smiled at him as best you could, trying not to show them how affected you were. “Of course I will. Who else will take care of you?” All three of you giggled together, the tension easing. “Do either of you have any more scrapes for me to take a look at?” They shook their heads and you quietly let out a breath of relief.

“Is it true, what they say?” Martyn asked you abruptly.

“What do they say?” you questioned back.

“That the King in the North turns into a direwolf at night,” he said innocently. “That he howls at the moon and eats the flesh of his enemies.”

You gnawed on your lip, taking in the sparkling eyes of the young boys. Playfully, you leaned forward and lowered your voice. “It’s true,” you told them. “But only on the full moon. And he only eats the flesh of naughty boys who don’t listen to what they’re told, so you two had better behave yourselves.” They nodded their heads quickly, easily believing the tale.

As you took your leave, hugging each boy goodbye and promising to come see them tomorrow and to bring a bigger breakfast for them, you could hear them murmuring about how the king in the North couldn’t be killed with admiration in their voices. You sighed, the guard giving you a pitying look as you left the dungeon, hoping that the war would be won sooner rather than later. At least the boys didn’t seem to hate Northerners or the Starks, regardless of their family name and position.

As you exited the castle, you saw your father fuming and Jungkook’s mother in front of him. Their voices were loud enough to draw attention and you slipped closer to the crowed of soldiers around them, listening in.

“I’ll have their heads!” your father was shouting. “And if you try and stop me—“

“You will strike me down?” Lady Jeon yelled back, narrowing her eyes at him. Her face was twisted with rage so like the way Jungkook’s had before that you were momentarily reminded of how alike the two really were. “Have you forgotten me, Ser? I am the widow of your liege lord—I am the mother of your king!”

Lady Jeon’s guard unsheathed part of his sword, drawing nearer. “Threatening my Lady is an act of treason—“

Your father interrupted menacingly. “Treason? How can it be treason to kill Lannisters?”

Lady Jeon looked at him firmly. “I understand your grief, my Lord, better than most. The Lannisters will pay for their crimes, I promise you. But for now, in the name of my son—your king—stand down.”

“I will demand their heads from your son,” your father continued, anger still simmering in his expression.

Lady Jeon’s face tightened. “Wise men do not make demands of kings,” she warned.

“Fathers who love their sons do,” he spat back, turning away from her and marching toward the others. Soon, the crowd dispersed, and you quietly slipped away, unwilling to let anyone know that you had been down in the cells. Your heart was pounding harshly against your ribs, pumping dread through your entire body as you set about making your usual rounds to the soldiers to keep them healthy and well.

As you were going back to your chambers to grab a few things and rest a few moments, you were summoned by your father to his own. You quickly made your way there, knocking on the door to his chambers lightly.

“Come in,” he called from the other side of the door.

When you walked in, shutting the door behind you, you took in the dark look on your father’s face. You immediately knew to brace yourself for a lecture. “Yes, Father?” you prompted, clasping your hands in front of you as you waited.

He stood from his chair, watching you coldly. “Do you know what they’re saying about you?”

You swallowed. “What are they saying about me?”

“That you go into the king’s room every night for hours,” he started, almost spitting the words at you. “That my daughter is the king’s whore!”

You had to calm your breathing, trying not to panic at the insinuations. You already knew that they had been spreading rumors about you, but not to this extent. “I haven’t done anything improper with the king,” you mumbled, barely able to string a coherent sentence together; you were lying, of course—being alone with him and letting him hold you close was far from proper, but you hadn’t shared a bed with him.

“Do you think it matters, you stupid girl?” he shouted, drawing closer to you. You had to stop yourself from flinching away. “It doesn’t matter if you have or not! The rumors themselves, that you’re—that you’re spreading your legs for the king, no man will ever come near you!”

“But, Father—“

“Quiet!” he roared, his open palm coming down hard against your cheek. Your head snapped to the side and you cried out, reaching out to hold your stinging skin, looking back up at your father fearfully. “The king is betrothed to a Frey girl,” he continued, towering over you. Your hands started to shake. “He will never marry you. Do not bring dishonor on our family—on our House!”

You nodded your head, staying silent. After a few moments, your father scoffed and turned away from you, walking back toward the table in his room. You straightened your back again, hand still cupping your burning cheek.

“You are dismissed,” he told you coldly.

Without a word, you left his chambers. You kept your head down as you passed people in the halls, dropping your hand to your side and fisting the fabric of your dress in your hands. Once alone in your own room, you hurried to wash your face and press a cloth wet with cold water to your cheek, hoping that it wouldn’t swell.

You slipped down the hall toward Jungkook’s room, as you did every night. He hadn’t called for you yet, but you were impatient to feel his arms around you and feel his breath on your skin. The dread pooling in the pit of your stomach hadn’t subsided, but you pushed it to the back of your mind in favor of seeing your king.

When you passed the main hall, you paused, hearing people talking inside. The door was ajar and you peeked through the crack, seeing your father surrounded by a few other men and Jungkook himself standing before him. The king had a scowl on his face and you couldn’t help but quietly enter the room, watching and listening in even though you knew you shouldn’t. Jungkook’s eyes caught yours and for a brief moment you saw a distressed expression take hold on his face before he schooled it into something harsh and he looked away from you, toward your father.

You didn’t have to say anything, as your eyes were drawn toward the ground, where on a rag lay two bodies, dried blood smearing their throats. You bit back the gasp as bile rose in your throat, eyes wide and trained on the two young Lannister boys’ dead bodies, the familiar color of their golden hair and baby features startling you. You snapped your gaze back up toward your father’s back.

“Is this all of them?” Jungkook asked one of his guards. The man nodded his head. “It took five of you to murder two unarmed boys?”

“Not murder, Your Grace,” your father spat. “Vengeance.”

“Vengeance?” Jungkook repeated incredulously. “These boys did not kill your son. I saw your son die on the battlefield against the Kingslayer.”

“And they were his kin—“

“They were boys!” Jungkook yelled, unable to keep his composure. There was silence and you were sure if a needle dropped to the floor, you would be able to hear it. You wrung your hands, squeezing your fingers repeatedly, trying to keep your breathing steady and even. Your father had really gone through with his threats and killed the two boys. “Look at them,” Jungkook snarled at him.

“Tell your mother to look at them,” he shot back, eyes never wavering from Jungkook’s face. You managed to tear your gaze from the dead bodies, catching sight of a silent and disheveled Lady Jeon seated at the window sill, her eyes unmoving from the Lannister boys. “She killed them as much as I.”

“My mother had nothing to do with this. This was your treason—“

Your father interrupted, provoking the already angry King. You wished he would just stop talking for once, but you were familiar with his combative nature, too hot-headed to ever just shut up. “It’s treason to free your enemies! In war, you kill your enemies—did your father not teach you that, boy?”

There was a heavy silence, everyone’s eyes snapping to your father. Nobody seemed to be comfortable with the insult at Jungkook’s deceased father—he had been a good man, and an even better lord. One of the guards started to draw his sword, but King Jungkook raised his hand in a motion for him to stop.

“Leave him,” he said.

“Aye, leave me,” your father taunted, as if he couldn’t help himself. “Leave me to the king; he wants to give me a scolding before he sets me free. That’s how he deals with treason.” You could see the hateful smirk on your father’s face. Your eyes darted to Jungkook’s, which was set into a scowl. “Our king in the North… Or should I call him the king who lost the North?”

Jungkook’s face didn’t even twitch at the provocation. His eyes remained firmly on your father and when he spoke, his voice was soft—but the words were not. “Escort our lord to the dungeon. Hang the rest.”

After a beat of stunned silence, there was a flurry of movement. The guards began to push at the men to lead them out, and two guards gripped your father’s arms. One of the younger men spoke in a panic, struggling against the guards.

“Please, mercy, Your Grace!” he begged. “I didn’t kill anyone, I only watched for the guards!”

Jungkook’s cold eyes cut to the man, not a shred of compassion in his gaze. You shuddered, the look so foreign on his face. “This one was only the watcher,” he started, voice growing harsh. “Hang him last so he can watch the others die.” You watched on with a sense of growing horror as the men were shuffled out of the room and Jungkook turned away, his mother and uncle watching his every move.

“Word of this can’t leave Riverrun,” his uncle said, approaching Jungkook. You stood by the door, too frightened to make a move and draw the attention to yourself. “You can bury them and remain silent. The Lannisters always pay their debts, they keep fucking saying it—”

Jungkook cut his gaze to his uncle, halting him with just his look. “I can’t fight for justice if I don’t serve justice to murderers in my ranks, no matter how Highborn.” His eyes seemed to find yours for only a brief moment. “He has to die.”

The words cut straight through you and it was like your muscles remembered how to move again. Your steps were quick as you made for Jungkook, grabbing his arm and looking at him pleadingly. His own hands automatically raised to grip your elbows, almost steadying you.

“Please, my King,” you rasped. “Please, don’t do this, I beg of you—”

Lady Jeon cut in. “Keep him as a hostage until the war is over,” she argued, approaching the two of you quickly. “They’re Northmen. They won’t forget the killing of their lord, nor will they forgive it.”

“Please,” you whispered, gripping the fabric of his sleeves so hard your fingers started to ache. “Please don’t kill him, please, he’s my father—”

Jungkook’s eyes bore into yours and his brows furrowed. He seemed pained and his hands around your elbows tightened, as if he was going to make to pull you close. “Take her to her room,” he said instead, shoving you away from him. “Make sure she doesn’t come out.”

“No!” you begged, fisting the material of his shirt even tighter, refusing to let go of him even as his uncle grabbed your shoulders from behind to yank you back. “Please don’t do this, Jungkook, please, he’s my father, don’t take him from me like my brother was, please, he’s all I have left—”

Your pleas fell on closed ears, Jungkook turning away from you harshly as you were dragged out of the room, still kicking and screaming and pleading with him to reconsider. You didn’t even feel the hot sting of tears rolling down your cheeks until you were thrown into your chambers and the door locked from the outside.

You rushed at the door, attempting to open it even as you heard the locks click into place, screaming and crying until your voice went hoarse and your throat ached with every wracking breath you took in.

JUNGKOOK

Jungkook watched the men lead the lord over to the stone, the weather just as gloomy and threatening as the atmosphere that surrounded everyone. Many of the lord’s men stood to watch the execution, as well as his own family and other houses.

His hands were bound, his look venomous as Jungkook approached him. “The blood of the First Men flows through my veins as it does yours, boy,” he spat at the young king. “I fought the Mad King for your father,” he continued. “I fought the boy-king for you. We are kin.”

Jungkook’s voice was even as he spoke, though he could feel the weight of the sword at his hip like it wished to drag him to his knees. “That didn’t stop you from betraying me. And it won’t save you now.”

“I don’t want it to save me,” the lord scoffed, a mean smirk playing on his lips. “I want it to haunt you for the rest of your days.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed at the older man. “Kneel, my Lord.”

The man did so after a long look at his king. He dropped his knees to the ground and bent his body over the stone until his head was past the edge. Jungkook drew his sword, willing his hands to stop shaking and that nobody would notice it; he set the tip on the ground and held the hilt with both hands as he started to speak.

“Lord of Karhold, here in sight of men and gods, I sentence you to die.” Jungkook looked down pitifully at the older man. “Would you speak a final word?”

The man slowly turned his head to glance up at Jungkook, his features contorted with rage. “Kill me and be cursed,” he said. “You are no king of mine.”

Before he had even fully turned his head back down, Jungkook drew his sword up in front of him. With a harsh, swift movement he swung the sword down and the metal sliced into the lord’s neck until it went cleanly through. The head fell to the ground with a thud and blood dripped down the metal of his sword beside it. His eyes tore away from the sight and he was breathing heavily as he turned away, the silence of everyone around him deafening.

Jungkook walked away from the scene, sword clasped tightly in his fist and trailing blood behind him.

It didn’t take long for his mother and uncle to find him in his chambers, sitting at his table with a look of concentration on his face. His sword was nowhere to be found, as he’d given it to a squire to clean.

Before they could say a word, Jungkook spoke up without looking at them. “Are there guards posted by ____’s room?”

“Yes,” his uncle replied.

Jungkook sighed. His mother stepped closer to him, but stayed on the other side of the table. “His men won’t forget this,” she warned. “The second they seize her, they’ll abandon you and march back North.”

He sighed again. “I know.” Staring daggers into the wood, he repeated the words. “I know.”

“How will you manage to keep her as a political hostage?” his uncle said. “They might abandon us even without her. I don’t think those stubborn soldiers will willingly ride into battle for us regardless of if their lord’s daughter is locked up in a room somewhere or not.”

Jungkook had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Bile rose in his throat and he knew what his mother was going to say the second he met her eyes.

“You’ll have a choice,” she said gently, kindly. “You can let her go with her father’s forces back to the North, and marry the Frey girl for more men from Lord Frey.”

“There’s no guarantee that he would send them in time,” Jungkook groaned, dropping his chin to rest on his palm. “Lord Frey is notorious for sending his men at the end of wars.”

His mother reached a hand over to settle it on his shoulder. He wished, for a brief moment, that he was young enough again to be able to hide in her skirts and be comforted by her. But he wasn’t. And the burden he carried now would forever rest on his shoulders.

“You can marry her,” she said. Jungkook glanced up, catching sight of his startled uncle staring at his sister as if she were mad. “It would bind our families together and as the only remaining heir to their House, you would be in command of their men until she had a son. They would have to stay.”

“If you do that,” his uncle started. “The Freys will never forgive you. Lord Frey is not a man to be crossed.”

“You are both right,” Jungkook mumbled. “But I will not force her to marry me. And I’ve already given my word to Lord Frey.”

His mother pursed her lips. “You won’t be forcing her. We need only speak to her mother. And they won’t refuse you—their House will care more for having a daughter as Queen in the North. I need only your agreement, Jungkook.”

Jungkook dragged a hand over his face. There was no way he could put his trust in Frey to send men in time for the next battle. That wretch of a man would rather see them all dead than send his aid, even if his daughter became Jungkook’s wife; his children were too many to count on his favor for any of them.

“I’ll do it,” he strained. “Send a raven.”

YOU

It had been days since the execution of your father. You were not allowed to leave your chambers, maids leaving your meals for you before leaving and locking the door. There were always at least three guards posted right outside of your room—and if you had somehow managed to get past them, there would be many more of Jungkook’s men that you would encounter.

The door to your chambers opened suddenly and you flinched, straining to see from your spot on the windowsill. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of your mother, the door shutting quietly after she was let inside. You stood from the window and rushed over to her, wrapping your arms around her tightly. She embraced you just as tightly, her hand stroking your back comfortingly as you started to cry like you had as a child.

“Are we leaving?” you finally whimpered, sniffling. “Are we going back home?”

Your mother’s silence concerned you. Your heart started to beat faster and you tightened your grip on her, waiting. “We’re not going home, my sweet child.”

You pulled back, hating the pitying look on her face. “What do you mean? Why not? They—“ You swallowed, eyes turning down toward your feet. “He killed Father.”

“He did,” she replied. Her hands pulled away from your back and she brushed your hair from your face, wiping your tears gently. “But you’re going to marry him.”

Her words were like ice piercing straight through your abdomen. “What?” you whispered. “No, you can’t be—you can’t be serious!” Your voice started to strain and you backed away from her, shaking your head. “You can’t make me!”

She sighed, clicking her tongue as if you’d just refused to sit with the maesters. “Think about what you’re saying,” she chided. She walked to your bed and sat at the edge. “Your father and brother are dead. You’re the heir to Karhold. Who will take care of us?” she asked. “Neither of us will be able to take care of ourselves. You’ll have to marry anyway.”

“But surely not him,” you sputtered. “He’s promised to a Frey girl! He can’t marry me!”

Your mother stopped your arguments with one harsh look. “Think. The King in the North has already sought out your hand. Do you think any other man, Highborn or not, will dare ask for your hand now?” You bit your lip, unable to say anything back. “If you don’t marry him, you’ll bring ruin to our Great House.” She sighed, standing again. “I’ve already approved the match. After all this, you’ll be Queen in the North. Our family will rise to an equal level with House Stark.”

You blinked back your tears, letting your mother take your limp hands in her own and squeeze them. “How can I marry my father’s murderer?” you whispered, staring at her fingers wrapped around yours.

She frowned. “We all do the things we must, in any situation. He will not be the man who killed your father after this. He will be your king and your husband.” You sniffled and she made a displeased noise. “Your children will be princes and princesses. Soon, you will forget all about your worries and be free, my dear.”

You tried to give your mother a smile, swallowing all of the pain stirring in your chest. “You’re right. I’m being silly.”

She smiled, now, and wrapped you up in another hug. “I want you to be happy,” she said quietly in your ear.

“I will be,” you answered her, though you didn’t believe it yourself.

The ceremony would be soon, you knew. You hadn’t seen your newly betrothed nor anyone else, for that matter, besides the servants who brought your meals. You knew they must have been afraid that you would run away if given too much freedom, even if you had agreed to the marriage. You spent your days and nights doing nothing but think and remember the last conversation you’d had with your father. You blinked and wiped away your tears, not wanting to ruin the makeup they had spent so long on.

It wasn’t long before there was a knock on your door—you had to hold back a chuckle at the notion. It was locked and the person outside would need to unlock it themselves, so there really wasn’t a point in knocking.

Your mother walked in, smiling widely as she saw you. “My sweet child,” she breathed. “You look beautiful.”

You hoped your own smile didn’t look too much like a grimace. “Thank you.”

She rushed over, helping you stand and fixing a few of the wrinkles she could see in your gown. “Here,” she said, gesturing for you to turn around. “Let me put the cloak around you.” You faced away from your mother to let her put the thin fabric with your House colors on your shoulders, covering much of your frame.

You turned toward the door just in time to see a man you didn’t recognize walk into your chambers. “Who is this?” you asked.

“A distant relative,” your mother answered easily. Her face soured for a moment before it fixed back to her normal smile, though you could tell she was forcing it. “Since your father and brother both won’t be able to walk with you.”

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat. “Right.” Your mother left before you, hurrying to the courtyard where the ceremony and feast would be held. You took in a shaky breath and approached the handsome man.

“You look beautiful,” he said kindly as he offered you his arm. “My name is Eunwoo.”

“Thank you, Ser,” you mumbled, taking his arm hesitantly and allowing him to lead you from the room toward the feast. You could hear a soft melody the closer you got.

“Oh, please,” he laughed. “I’m no knight. Just call me Eunwoo.”

You somehow managed to shoot him a strained smile, fingers subconsciously tightening on his arm the closer you got to the feast. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Silently, he helped you drape your veil over your face.

The two of you exited the castle and a hush fell across the guests. There were candles and torches lit, placed strategically to give off an intimate atmosphere under the darkness of the night sky. Through the veil, you could vaguely make out the shape of Jungkook standing at the end by the Septon.

You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, you’ll be okay, you repeated to yourself like a mantra.

Once you were close enough, Eunwoo released you and you took a deep breath. You could tell that the ceremony was being held in the Godswood, the different faiths combining for your wedding. You supposed it was to appease all the gods, since the two of you were from Northern families who still worshipped the old gods.

Jungkook’s uncle stood beside him—at least, you assumed it was his uncle. You weren’t sure until you heard his voice.

“Who comes before the old gods this night?” he asked. With all the ceremonies you’d been to, his voice reciting the words sounded awkward; it couldn’t be helped, you supposed, since Jungkook’s uncle was from Riverrun and not the North.

Eunwoo spoke on your behalf, saying your name and House. “She comes here to be wed. She comes to beg the blessings of the gods,” he finished with. His voice was confident as he said the words. “Who comes to claim her?”

You swallowed as Jungkook stepped forward. “Jeon Jungkook, of House Stark. Heir to Winterfell and King in the North. Who gives her?”

“Cha Eunwoo of House Poole,” your distant relative answered. “A cousin to her mother.”

Jungkook’s uncle spoke again, directing his question to you. “Do you take this man?”

There was a long silence as they all waited for you. I could go now, you thought to yourself, heart pounding harshly. If I beg the Septon, he’d help me, surely. I could go.

“I take this man,” you murmured, stepping forward toward Jungkook. Everyone seemed to release a breath of relief when you finally answered, the tension that was starting to build up easing. Jungkook’s uncle and Eunwoo left the two of you.

You could vaguely make out their figures moving to the side, presumably to find a place to stand on the proper sides of the guests. You walked forward the rest of the way to Jungkook on shaky feet. Once you stood beside him, you faced him and he pivoted to face you as well. His hands gripped the hem of the veil and he lifted it from your face, letting it fall over your shoulders. Your eyes met his for a long moment and your chest felt tight with something bittersweet; this had been the sight that you yearned for, a mere few weeks ago. Now seeing him illuminated by the fires and moonlight, standing before you and a Septon, you were overcome with the urge to cry—for your grief and for your love, which hadn’t disappeared as you thought it would.

The Septon’s voice broke the spell the two of you had suddenly been put under and you darted your gaze over to him. “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Jungkook nodded and shrugged the dark cloak off of his shoulders. He circled you until he stood behind you and he gently lay the cloak over your shoulders, making sure it was completely in place before he pulled his hands back. You found yourself wishing that he would keep his hands against your skin and you hated yourself for it.

When he came back to stand at your side, the two of you faced the Septon. Jungkook stretched his arm out with his palm facing the ground and you followed suit, resting your hand on top of his. A shiver ran up your arm and you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight.

“In the sight of the Seven,” the Septon started, voice echoing through the silent grounds. He dropped a strip of fabric on your hands and began to wrap them together, looping the thin white cloth around three times as he continued. “I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words.”

You swallowed roughly and turned to face Jungkook, who did the same and faced you. Your hands remained together between the two of you. Like this, you almost felt too close to him. You could hardly breathe, especially when his dark eyes were so tender in that moment, the features that had looked so cold the last time you saw him now appeared soft and gentle.

“Father, Smith, Warrior,” the two of you recited together. “Mother, Maiden, Crone.” You licked your lips. “Stranger.”

“I am hers, and she is mine,” Jungkook said softly.

“I am his, and he is mine,” you echoed at the same time.

The two of you finished the last of the vows quickly. “From this day until the end of my days.”

There was a long pause, everything quiet but the sound of your breathing and the crackling of the fire. You glanced at the Septon, who gave the two of you a small nod with a smile. Jungkook’s hand turned upwards and he held yours in his gently. Leaning forward, he raised his other hand and his fingers grazed your cheek. He cupped your face and you let your eyes flutter shut as he pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Jungkook’s mouth remained on yours for a few seconds and a tingling sensation started on your lips, spreading to the rest of your body as if the gods themselves had reached forward and given you a drop of nectar.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes and an applause started from the guests—almost all of which were soldiers. You took in a shaky breath and tried to smile, eyes scanning the crowd of suddenly noisy people for your mother. You met Lady Jeon’s eyes instead and her smile was so warm as she gazed at the two of you, hands clutched together tightly, that it almost brought a wave of fresh tears to your eyes.

You squeezed Jungkook’s hand, wanting to feel his skin on yours desperately and hating yourself for it.

Jungkook walked over to the largest table with you at his side, hands still clasped together. Everyone’s voices started at once, the crowds starting to gather from the food that had been prepared, digging in immediately. As the two of you sat down, Jungkook released your hand. You put them in your lap, staring at the food in front of you blankly, the mix of emotions swirling inside your stomach distracting you from wanting to eat anything. When you peeked over at Jungkook, he was eating slowly, talking with the people who came up to the table lightly.

It didn’t take long before the guests grew rowdy, their voices growing loud and chanting something that you didn’t want to hear.

“Bed them! Bed them! Bed them!”

You glanced over at Jungkook with wide eyes. The corners of his lips were twitched down into a small frown, but he clenched his jaw and forced a smile onto his face.

“Perhaps we should skip the bedding ceremony,” he said.

There was a round of boo’s from the guests and soldiers.

“Your Grace!” someone shouted from the crowd. “It’s only right to bed the new lovers!”

He sighed as everyone started to laugh and cheer, already getting up from their seats. “Alright, alright,” he grumbled. He got up, the few women in attendance hurrying up to the two of you.

A group of the soldiers followed suit, all of them rushing the two of you out of your seats and shoving you toward the hall again. The women giggled as they pulled at Jungkook, undoing his buttons and strings. Your breathing quickened as the soldiers lifted you in the air, hands gripping you tightly so you didn’t fall. They led forward first, tugging at your cloak and dropping it in the warm hall as they rushed you toward the king’s bedroom.

“Watch your hands!” Jungkook shouted from behind. The men looked sheepish and stopped their insistent gripping at your gown, thankfully leaving you with your dress on. They pushed open the door and carried you to the bed, dropping you unceremoniously onto it. The women dragging Jungkook inside weren’t far behind, and you swallowed as you saw his disshelved state—his shirt was pulled open to reveal most of his chest, and his pants already half undone.

They pushed Jungkook beside you and he let out a small noise as he fell next to you, hand catching on yours for a brief moment. The two of you looked up at the men and women still laughing, their smiles wide and naughty.

“Have fun,” one of the soldiers said, winking as he ushered the others out. “Don’t be too rough, now! One should always be gentle with a lady on the first night!” he called loudly before they left the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

And then you and Jungkook were alone in his chambers, only the dim candlelight illuminating your forms.

You stood from the bed, pulling at the sleeves of your dress nervously. Jungkook stayed seated on the bed, watching you silently. It only served to unnerve you more. You heard him shift behind you, but you refused to turn and look at him.

“If you don’t want to—” he started.

“It’s fine,” you said tightly. “We have to.”

More silence. You continued to fiddle with your sleeves, unsure of what to do. There was a soft sigh behind you and more rustling. You didn’t hear Jungkook come up behind you until you felt his hands on your arms, gripping them gently. You couldn’t stop the flinch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Stop,” you said, just as quietly.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” Jungkook continued. “If things had been different—”

“I said stop!” you shouted, whirling around to face him. Jungkook dropped his hands from your arms. You hit his chest with one of your fists, not hard enough to truly hurt him but hard enough for him to feel the weight of it. He said nothing, eyes falling shut as the room smothered the two of you in silence.

Tears were starting to fall down your cheeks and your chest was heaving with soft sobs. “You killed him,” you whispered, voice thick. Jungkook remained silent. You hit him again, with both fists, and kept hitting him, moving his body backwards with each strike. “You killed him and you didn’t let me see him!” Your voice cracked as you screamed the words at him, your punches to his chest landing more frantically in your hysteria. “You didn’t let me, you didn’t let me, you didn’t let me—”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around your wrists tight and he pulled you flush against his chest, halting your assault. You were crying loudly, now, thrashing and twisting in his grip in an attempt to dislodge his hands. He didn’t let go, instead shaking you back and forth.

“Of course I didn’t!” he shouted, his own voice hoarse and his eyes glassy. You fought to get away from him, not wanting to hear his voice, the same voice that had whispered such sweet words in your ear only weeks before. “You would never have forgotten it, if you had seen. I was trying to protect you!” He shook you again and you let yourself finally look at him, let yourself see the desperation in his eyes. “Don’t you understand?” he asked. “Don’t you understand that I was trying to protect you?”

You went limp in his grasp, sobbing violently. Jungkook released your wrists and caught you in his arms instead, wrapping you up in his embrace as he held you close. You rested your head on his chest and let him hold you as you cried, grief washing over your body like the winter winds. His hands stroked your back comfortingly, his face burying itself in your hair. You could feel his heartbeat as you wept against his chest, fast and unsteady just as yours beat.

Looking up at him with teary eyes, you took in a shaky breath. “Comfort me,” you whimpered, leaning forward. “Please.”

Without another word, Jungkook pressed his mouth to yours harshly. He kissed you almost violently, hands gripping your body tight enough to leave bruises as he led you back toward the bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you sat down, his lips following after you while you crawled up onto the middle. Jungkook crawled up toward you, lips finding the skin of your neck and trailing chaste kisses up and down it before pressing his tongue to the flesh.

You arched your back and spread your legs, allowing his hips to nestle comfortably against yours, the hard bulge in his pants pressing against you deliciously. He bit down on your shoulder as his hands hurriedly lifted the skirts of your dress, fingers trailing on your skin light enough to ignite a sense of urgency in your nerves. You rocked your hips up into his, chuckling breathlessly at the groan you received from him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, beginning to pull his head away from you so that he could look at you.

Your mouth dried and you didn’t want his eyes on yours. With your hands, you gripped his hair and lightly pushed his head back down toward your neck, swallowing roughly. “Make me forget, Jungkook,” you told him. “Please.”

There was a pause and the tension between you was harsh, almost suffocating you as you waited, throbbing, underneath him. Then Jungkook moved and you let a relieved sigh escape your lips as he slightly lifted his head to kiss you. His eyes were closed and his mouth was rough, just as you wanted it.

His hands continued to shove your dress up until you could feel the breeze of the cool room against your bare skin. He barely glanced down to look at you as his hand found your undergarments, fingers caressing your most sensitive spot. You gasped softly, pulling away from his hungry kisses as he rubbed his fingers against you, the added friction of your underwear making you shudder.

“Do you want it?” he asked roughly, looking down at you.

You couldn’t meet his eyes and turned your head to the side, thighs opening wider to give him more room. “Yes,” you whispered.

“How badly do you want me?” Jungkook pressed, rubbing against your clit harder.

“So badly,” you breathed, a moan escaping. “I want you so bad, please—”

Jungkook nearly tore your undergarments off, yanking them roughly down your legs until you could kick them off, roughly maneuvering you as he did so, which you didn’t mind. He continued with your dress, actually ripping the seams on the back after he pulled you up a bit to get it off. You helped him as quickly as you could, pulling your arms out of it and then kicking the heavy thing off and tossing it to the floor.

Pausing to just look at you, splayed out beneath him, Jungkook gave you a strained yet soft smile. You didn’t want to see it. Instead, you grabbed at the hem of his own shirt and started tugging, wanting him to take it off. He snapped out of whatever it was he was thinking and helped you, undressing himself quickly until the two of you were bare before each other.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes trail down his body, taking in every inch of his beautiful form. Your gaze stopped at his cock, erect and red—it was larger than you’d thought. Would it even be able to fit inside of you? You paled for a second as you stared shamelessly at it.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to your head. You looked up at him in slight alarm. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Are you sure it’ll fit?” you asked in a small voice, unable to stop yourself.

With a choking cough, Jungkook looked away from you and bit his lip hard. When he turned back to you, his eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated and covering almost his entire irises. “Yes, it’ll fit,” he said gruffly. “I’ll prepare you first.”

“What do you mean, ‘prepare’ me—” You cut yourself off with a hitched gasp as one of his fingers slipped inside of you slowly. You clenched your fists and flopped back all the way onto the large bed, your cheeks and neck hot.

Jungkook leaned over you as he worked his finger inside of you, curling it and seemingly looking for something. When you peeked up at him, you could see that his eyes were focused completely on his movements between your thighs.

“I’ll prepare you with my fingers, first,” he said in a dark voice, another finger starting to slowly push inside of you. You groaned gutturally, screwing your eyes shut. “You’re already very wet, so it shouldn’t hurt when I replace my fingers with my cock.”

Your eyes were wide at his crude words and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at how he was looking at you—or, well, a part of you. The pleasure from his fingers was starting to take you over completely, the pressure from the second digit starting to disappear.

His thumb pressed against your clit and you moaned unbidden, the sound nearly tearing itself out of your throat. You quickly covered your face with your hands, not wanting him to see whatever faces you were making as he worked on pleasuring and preparing you.

“No one’s ever touched you like this?” Jungkook asked, his voice breathy and pleasant. You shook your head, pushing it back into the pillow as your back arched and your hips rocked up toward his fingers. “Gods, you’re beautiful. I could spend all day like this, watching you come undone on my fingers.”

“Please,” you begged, not sure what you were even asking for. “Please, Jungkook—”

“You want to come?” he asked. You nodded your head. “Answer me when I ask you a question.”

With a whimper, you moved your hands down your face and rested them on your chest. “Yes, please Jungkook, I want to come—”

“Then come,” he said easily. His fingers worked you harder, his thumb pressing against your clit deliciously and your mouth fell open as the ecstasy ran through your abdomen and through your entire body. You came around his fingers, clenching them erratically and rolling your hips up into his palm.

When the feeling had passed and you relaxed your tensed limbs, Jungkook’s fingers moved inside of you. You winced and wriggled, but he shushed you and moved his thumb away from your clit. You felt a third finger press against your folds and then he slipped it inside, all the way to the knuckle, along with the two still inside you.

“Jungkook—”

“You’ll need more than two fingers to be able to take my cock,” he told you gently, but when you glanced at his eyes you could see them flickering with something like delight. His fingers moved inside you slowly until you were moaning again, the slight pain turning to pleasure again. Jungkook groaned and his voice was unsteady when he spoke. “You’re so tight and wet, and all for me.”

You whimpered at his words, clenching around his fingers. “I’m ready, please, Jungkook, I want you—”

“Fuck,” he grunted, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly. You were left clenching around nothing and feeling strangely empty, but it didn’t last long. You peered down and saw Jungkook using the hand that was pleasuring you wrapped around himself and he was pumping his cock with it, letting out quiet hisses of bliss at the friction. He guided himself toward you and the head of his cock rubbed against your folds, gathering your slick.

You swallowed nervously and couldn’t help but tense up your body.

Jungkook noticed and used his other hand to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Are you ready?” he asked seriously. You couldn’t move away from him thanks to the hand on your jaw, but you knew he would pull away from you if you asked in that moment. You knew he was asking you are you sure you want this and not are you ready for me because you knew him.

“Yes,” you whispered, holding his gaze confidently.

Jungkook released your jaw and then pushed his cock inside of you slowly, eyes never leaving your face. Every time you tensed your body more or bit your lip, he stopped and waited for you to relax. It took a few moments, but eventually he was buried completely inside of you.

You were already sweating, your body feeling completely damp. Jungkook was right above you, his own hair damp and his breath heavy on your face. He held himself up and off of you, only touching you where his cock was sheathed in you, his hips against yours, and his thighs brushing yours. You let your hands press against his chest, dragging your hands up and down slowly. You were clenching tightly around his cock, still unable to relax completely. It felt more like an intrusion than anything you would willingly partake in, but you were sure the pain would ebb into pleasure soon.

Jungkook shuddered above you and you watched him curiously as you let your fingers caress his collarbones and up his neck to his jaw. His eyes fluttered shut and you could see him swallow. You raked your nails lightly down his neck and chest, letting your hands grip his sides. He shifted and then you felt him brush against something inside of you that made you arch your back and nearly cry out from the ecstasy that shot through your limbs.

“There?” he asked breathlessly. He pressed in even deeper, holding himself still against that spot inside of you and your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to get him in even deeper. Your arms moved of their own accord, going around his back and nails digging into his skin. “Does that feel good?” he teased.

You let out a puff of air and nodded your head, pulling him down against you completely. He nipped at the skin of your shoulder as you buried your head against his neck and pressed a chaste kiss to his warm skin. “Yes,” you answered shakily. “You can move now.”

With a shaky exhale, Jungkook shifted and then pulled his cock out slowly. You made a strangled noise, the sensation strange and foreign. Then he pushed back in slowly, starting a gentle pace in and out as you adjusted to the new feelings between your thighs. You were throbbing and he let you hold him as tightly as you desired, his chest brushing your breasts lightly. His hand ran down the side of your body and he slipped it between your bodies, fingers finding your clit easily and rubbing circles against it.

“Faster,” you breathed, arching your back and throwing your head back against the pillow. Jungkook groaned and didn’t quicken his pace, simply looking down at you curiously.

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Please,” you whispered, shutting your eyes and clinging to him tighter. “Harder.” You didn’t dare open your eyes and look at him, simply letting yourself lose your senses in the movements of his cock and hands.

He complied with your request, pulling back from your body and then slamming into you roughly, making you cry out in surprise. It was as if he became a beast, his hands grabbing hold of your hips and yanking you toward him as he sat back on the bed, thrusting his cock in and out of you harshly. Your hands slipped off of his shoulders and you fisted them in the sheets of the bed, moaning unabashedly at how blissful it felt.

The pain strangely offered you a newer sensation, mixing with pleasure deliciously. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t want him to stop. No, you wanted more.

Clenching around his cock, you moved your hands back up to his forearms for purchase as he pistoned in and out of you relentlessly. His quiet grunts as he rocked his hips into yours only fueled your pleasure, the ecstasy spreading from where you were joined to your abdomen once again. You took in a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone a second time, this time around his cock.

As the pleasure ebbed away, you winced at Jungkook’s continued movements. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked quietly, still thrusting into you harshly. You grabbed one of his hands and swallowed, moving it away from your hip. You pulled yourself backwards, off of his still hard and leaking cock, and he bit his lip as he watched you.

When he started to shift away from you, you squeezed his hand to stop him. Jungkook watched you curiously, unsure of what you wanted from him. You yanked on his hand to bring him forward and he took the hint, letting you maneuver him until he was seated against the headboard of the bed. You licked your lips and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth while you straddled his lip, positioning yourself above his no doubt aching cock.

You slowly sat down, using one hand to guide him in properly. With a hiss, you felt the head of his cock push past your folds and into you. Somehow, he felt much bigger in this position. You could barely make out his expression as you were too focused on fitting him in completely, but you could tell he was holding himself back from making any movements while waiting for you.

Once you were fully seated on his cock and your slick was dripping onto his thighs, you fluttered your eyes open and met his hungry gaze immediately. Jungkook let his palms rest on your thighs, where he slowly trailed them up to your hips, his fingers caressing you tenderly.

“You’re so big,” you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck while you adjusted to the stretch once again.

Jungkook groaned and pulled you closer, both of you moaning when you rolled your hips and clenched around him. “You don’t know how dangerous you are,” he breathed, letting his forehead rest against yours and his eyes shut. “It’s taking every bit of self-control that I possess not to fuck you until you’re crying.”

You couldn’t help but smile shyly at him, even though he couldn’t see it. “Why don’t you, then?” you said teasingly.

Jungkook’s eyes snapped open and he peered at you darkly. “It would be wise to keep your mouth shut before I find another use for it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his words, but then he thrust upwards and your giggles turned into gasps for air and quiet moans. One of his hands found its way to your clit again, rubbing the throbbing area until you were almost wildly bucking into his hand, clenching erratically around his cock. His other hand trailed up from your hip to your hair at the base of your neck, gripping it tightly in his fist and yanking your head back to bare your neck.

“I think you need a lesson,” he growled against your skin, biting down hard on your throat while he fucked up into you. Your fingers found their way to his hair and and you fisted the strands sporadically while you moved along with him, feeling as if every nerve in your body was screaming, drowning you in a pleasure you’d never known before.

It didn’t take long for you to orgasm again, your hips stuttering as he rolled his own upwards, his cock dragging against your clenching walls heavily, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders for support. His fingers didn’t stop moving against your clit, his cock still shoving into you roughly, and it all helped you drag out your pleasure until tears were spilling from your eyes, all of your feelings crashing into you at once along with the pleasure.

You held Jungkook to you tightly as he chased his own release, breathing heavily while he left a trail of sloppy kisses against your shoulder and neck. It took only a few more strokes until he was coming, tugging on your hair and pulling you close, his fingers moving from your clit to wrap around your back and hold you to him while he emptied his seed inside of you. You shuddered at the warmth filling you, squeezing tightly around him to try to prolong his pleasure.

When it was all over, the two of you sat there, holding each other close, the tears in your eyes freely flowing down your cheeks. You had no doubt that Jungkook knew you were crying, but he said nothing. He released his grip on your hair and let his hand drag down your back gently, still hugging you close to him. You could feel his come start to drip out of you, his cock softening inside you until it started to slip out as well.

Jungkook didn’t make a move to shift the two of you, allowing you to take a moment that you so desperately needed. You used one hand to rub at your eyes and cheeks, wiping the tears away, and you shakily exhaled as you pulled away from him. His arms relaxed around you so that you could pull back, and you met his dark eyes. Looking away from him, you shifted your hips up so that his cock slipped out of you, grimacing at the dripping release that followed it.

Neither of you spoke as he helped you clean yourself up and then the two of you prepared for bed. Once you were both comfortably laying underneath the furs, Jungkook turned to look at you beside him. You turned your own head toward him, watching him silently and waiting.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly, almost whispering. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You allowed yourself a brief smile as Jungkook reached over and gently caressed the side of your face with his fingertips. “No,” you whispered back, trying to ignore the swell of the ache in your chest. “You didn’t hurt me.”

The morning had been stiff and odd, soreness settling into your limbs and making you wince with each movement. Jungkook had risen the same time as you, both of you muttering quietly as you spoke briefly—neither of you were used to waking beside another.

Jungkook had left a mere moments ago when there was a knock at the door. You were still seated by the mirror in the room, head turning to call for whoever it was to enter. When the door opened, you saw your mother’s bright face peeking in and you smiled. At the sight of you alone, she stepped inside and shut the door behind her, walking over to you with something clasped in her hands.

“How was it, my sweet child?” she asked, a smirk on her face. Your cheeks felt hot and you were violently aware of the marks littered on your neck and down your chest. The servants had not been in yet, but you knew your mother could clearly see what she was looking for on the sheets, barely covered by the furs.

“Mother,” you chided, voice muffled with embarrassment. “That’s not proper—”

“Oh, please,” she waved off, coming closer to you and putting a hand on your shoulder. “Men will be men. As your mother, I want to know that my daughter is being taken care of.”

You sighed aggressively, rolling your eyes. “It was fine.” At her raised eyebrows, you curled in on yourself a bit. “He was just fine. I didn’t know I could feel like that,” you muttered, almost under your breath.

She chuckled and nodded her head. “Good. Now, here, drink this,” she continued, holding out a small vial to you with a liquid you didn’t recognize inside. At your questioning look, she finished speaking. “It’s to help with fertility. You need to cement this union with a child soon.”

You pursed your lips but took the vial from her nonetheless. Going down your throat, the liquid was bitter, but you held back the cough as you handed it back to her. She smiled sweetly at you and patted your shoulder.

“I will be with you a while longer,” she said. “There is nothing much for me to return home to, as things are.”

The ache that had dulled in your chest grew sharp at her words. You couldn’t speak even as she left the room, and you fidgeted with your fingers where you sat. Tears sprung to your eyes and you sat where you were, crying as quietly as you could manage. Even as the maids came in and inspected the sheets before removing them, replacing them with new ones, you sat and wept for all that you had lost—you were not sure that what you had gained could ever overshadow the grief.

You stretched your arms and back, letting out a satisfied groan when you felt the crack in your stiff muscles. Jungkook had gone out to speak with the soldiers and heads of the Houses, and you had just finished up your breakfast when your mother came into your room, precisely at the time she did every morning these days.

“Again?” you huffed.

Your mother clucked her tongue at you as she held out the same vial to you, which you took with a grumble about the taste every morning. “You know it’s important for you to produce an heir, my darling. Once you are with child, there won’t be a need for these visits.”

You rolled your eyes but drank the bitter liquid anyway, crinkling your nose as you swallowed it down in one go. “It’s been weeks, Mother, surely it’s helped as much as it could with fertility by now. We wouldn’t know, anyway, if I were with child already.”

She didn’t say anything, instead sitting across from you and helping herself to some of your almost finished breakfast. You let her, setting the vial down on the table and sighing. With her mouth full, your mother started to speak. “And how is our king? Can I assume he’s still as enthusiastic as he was on your wedding night?”

Your neck felt warm and you huffed loudly, crossing your arms. “Mother! How can you ask me that so easily?”

She smiled at you wickedly. “Everyone can hear you two, you know. It’s a little unnerving hearing the servants and a few others talking about your daughter’s activities with her husband, but thank the gods I’m staying nowhere near this room—”

“Okay, okay, enough!” you yelped, shaking your hands out to get her to stop. She laughed heartily, but you couldn’t stop the embarrassment that filled your gut. Though you knew by now that if Jungkook knew about this, he’d be thrilled—he did often whisper huskily in your ear to be louder, to let everyone know how good he was making you feel.

There was a knock on the door to your shared quarters and a guard poked his head in after you called out for whoever it was to enter. You stood from your chair, your mother quickly doing the same.

“My Queen,” he said gruffly. “Your presence has been requested by the King. You are to come at once.”

You nodded your head, letting the smile slip from your lips and a more serious expression settling in place. “Take me to him,” you told the guard. He nodded, opening the door fully and waiting for you. Turning to your mother, you found her already looking at you. “I’ll come visit you soon,” you said softly. She nodded her head and took the empty vial with her before she left ahead of you, walking down the hall. You walked out of your room and the guard shut it behind you before he escorted you to the main hall that was used to welcome in guests.

When you entered, you saw Jungkook seated on one side of the large table, two men seated across from him. Your husband looked at you warmly and quietly motioned for you to take a seat beside him, which you did with ease. He reached over and gripped your hand under the table, intertwining your fingers with his. You tried to keep the small smile off of your lips, but you knew you weren’t too successful in your attempt.

“These are two of Lord Frey’s sons,” Jungkook introduced, squeezing your hand.

You swallowed nervously and smiled at them. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lords.”

One of the men looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on your chest for a few moments too long. You tried not to scowl or roll your eyes. “So this is who you married instead of one of our sisters.” Jungkook cleared his throat. The man continued, not letting your husband utter a single word. “No matter. We come bearing news from our Lord Father. He is a forgiving man, our father. He wants to make you an offer.”

Jungkook leaned forward a bit, interested. You didn’t know much about the strategies, but you knew that House Frey was better to have on your side rather than the enemy’s. Everyone knew Walder Frey was not a man so easily crossed. “And what is this offer?”

“If your uncle takes your place and marries one of our sisters, all will be forgiven,” the other man said, leering at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. “But he demands that they be wed immediately, so that you cannot go back on your oath a second time.”

Jungkook cast his eyes down for a split second before he looked back up at them. “It will be arranged. We make for the wedding tonight, then.”

The men smiled and then stood, prompting the two of you to stand as well. Jungkook dropped your hand on the way, keeping it at his side. He shook hands with the two men and then they were escorted out of the room, where they were to gather their things and then make their way back home along with everyone here.

Jungkook had a soldier outside call for his mother and uncle to come to the hall, where he would go over everything with them. You wondered how his uncle would take the news—not well, you were sure. The news of your own sudden betrothal had come as a shock, even if it had been under slightly different circumstances than Jungkook’s uncle’s. You had an inkling that he would respond in a similar way as you had, or in a way much more exaggerated than you had—men had a tendency to express their emotions more often.

When both of them had appeared, Jungkook paused for a few minutes of tense silence before he decided to break the news.

“Uncle,” he said. “Arrangements have been made for your marriage to a Frey girl.”

There was an almost instantaneous burst from his uncle, as you’d expected. “What is the meaning of this? Why was I not consulted before the decision?”

Jungkook’s face was emotionless as he stared at his uncle, looking every bit a King in the North. “There was no need to consult you. We do not want the Frey House in our bad graces forever, and this is what they demand for crossing them.”

“So I will be fixing your mistake, then—”

“Careful, Uncle,” Jungkook said lowly. A shiver ran down your spine at his tone. “I may be your nephew, but I am still your king.”

The sentence shut the older man up, his face turning red with humiliation. You simply stood in silence, glancing between the men. Jungkook’s mother stood by the window, watching her brother and her son argue. You wondered how it felt for her.

Jungkook continued in the face of the silent but fuming man. “The Freys clearly want a powerful alliance and we have snubbed them already after making an oath. We cannot afford to make another enemy of a House, not when we are fighting for peace and the freedom of our people.” He turned to give his uncle a disappointed look. “Is your comfort more important than the future of our Northmen?”

At least at these words, Jungkook’s uncle had the decency to look embarrassed. He lowered his head, unable to meet Jungkook’s eyes. “No,” he nearly spit out. “It is not, Your Grace.”

“Good,” Jungkook replied without missing a beat. “Then prepare yourselves. We will be leaving at once to make our way to Lord Frey’s keep.”

His uncle bowed his head and then turned to leave, slamming the door behind him. You tried not to roll your eyes and turned toward your husband, only to find his mother already beside him.

“Are you sure about this, my son?” she asked quietly. There was a strange look in her eye but you did not question it.

Jungkook sighed and let his shoulders relax now that it was only the three of you in the hall. He faced you briefly and the tired look on his face prompted you to walk over to them and grab his hand with yours to comfort him.

“What else is there to do?” he asked. “I have no more options. If I hope to win this war, I need more men on my side rather than the Lannister’s. This will be a way to fix both the rift between our Houses and get more men. Refusing Lord Frey isn’t an option.”

His mother paused, looking down at your intertwined hands and you thought you saw the ghost of a smile crack on her stern face. When she met her son’s eyes, the smile had gone. “Do what you think is right for your people. You always have.”

With those words, she parted, leaving the room to go prepare herself to leave for the wedding. Jungkook turned to face you fully when she left, releasing your hand so he could grip your upper arms lightly and look at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, though it almost sounded like it hurt him to say it. Like he wanted to say something else, but held back. “With me.” He shifted his hands up your arms and the sides of your neck until they were cradling your face gently.

“Me too,” you replied, keeping your voice soft and gentle. You couldn’t meet his eyes, the guilt of your statement gnawing at your insides like a ravenous beast, even as his touch on your skin ignited sparks of a flame.

Jungkook leaned forward, resting his forehead on yours. You raised your hands and placed them atop his on your cheeks, letting your eyes flutter shut as he breathed in deeply. Your husband was a just and fair ruler to his people, you knew that despite what had happened, but you could tell he was feeling the burden that had been placed on his shoulders.

“My father would have liked you,” he whispered, losing himself in his thoughts. You bit the inside of your cheek, remembering that you hadn’t been the only one to lose someone amongst the Northerners. It was a painful reminder.

“I wish I could have met him,” you told him, gripping his hands a little tighter.

“As do I.” He sighed slowly and his thumbs started to caress your cheeks absentmindedly. “One of the last things he told me before he went to King’s Landing was that being a Lord was like being a father.”

“How so?” you asked.

“It’s like you have thousands of children,” Jungkook said. “You wake with fear in the morning and go to bed with fear in the night. The farmers are yours to protect. The children and women scrubbing the floors are yours to protect. The men you order to fight for you are yours to protect.” He pulled back a bit to look at you, smiling with only the corners of his mouth. “I didn’t believe him, you know. I asked him how a man could be brave if he was afraid.”

“What did he say?”

Jungkook chuckled. “‘That is the only time a man can be brave,’ he said.”

You allowed yourself to laugh briefly as well. “Your father was a wise man.” Getting the words out were harder than you expected, a lump forming in your throat.

“Yes, he was,” Jungkook continued. “He was the best man I ever met.” Pulling away from you completely, your husband brushed his fingers across your cheek before he dropped his arm to his side. “We’d better get on our way, as well.”

You nodded your head and followed beside your king as the two of you left the hall and made your way to your quarters to pack what little you had brought with you.

The lot of you were gathered in front of Lord Frey and all his many children and grandchildren. You shifted uncomfortably every time any of their eyes landed on you, standing beside Jungkook.

“My Lord,” Jungkook started confidently, stepping a little forward. “You have my sincerest apologies.”

“You broke your oath,” Lord Frey returned, a nasty smirk on his face. “Your father would not have.”

You could see the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders at the lord’s words. “You are right,” he said calmly, lowering his head briefly. “I should not have done so. It was wrong of me to break my word.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” the lord continued dismissively. You could tell he was enjoying all of this, even if everyone else looked extremely uncomfortable. You tried not to let it show how uneasy you were at being here. “It is my girls who you spurned.”

There was a pause and Lord Frey gestured with his arms for his daughters to step forward. They did, coming to the front in a very long line. You tried to count them all but there were too many of them. You had heard numerous times from your parents having attended multiple weddings of Walder Frey himself that he had married many young girls. It seemed every time a wife of his passed, he would find himself another.

He made you sick.

“Your father is right,” Jungkook said, his voice much softer now than it had been when addressing the lord. “It was wrong of me to treat you, and my oath, with such disregard. The fault is not with you; it is with me. All men should keep their words, and kings most of all. I pledge to do all that is in my power to amend these wrongs so that our Houses may continue to be friends.”

The old lord clapped his hands almost mockingly and his daughters returned to their original places, no longer standing in a visible line. You wondered how the old man had the courage to so blatantly disrespect the King in the North, but you supposed he knew there was not much that Jungkook could do to him right now.

“Very good,” the lord said loudly, smirking at Jungkook. Then his eyes turned to you, dragging up and down your form in a way that made you wish you had another cloak over your shoulders. “And there is the bride you broke your oath for.” He leaned forward in his seat and narrowed his eyes at you. “Come closer, dear. Let me have a look at you.”

You fidgeted, glancing at Jungkook. He turned his head and met your gaze, giving you a small nod. Stepping forward, you bowed your head briefly to the lord. You glanced around the room, noting how all of the Frey men eyed you up along with their lord. It was disgusting. You wished you hadn’t come.

“Very pretty,” he said appraisingly. “Quite beautiful, indeed. Alright, enough of that. The servants will help you all to your accommodations and then we will feast.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as you stepped back and tried not to completely shy away into Jungkook’s side. When you were all led out of the hall and to your own rooms, Jungkook made sure to stick close to you even though he wasn’t touching you.

Once you were in your quarters, your bags having already been placed there before you, you turned and faced Jungkook. He placed a hand on your cheek and then leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, leaving you flustered.

“Whatever happens tonight,” he started, “stay close to me, alright?”

“Are you afraid they’ll try something?” you asked curiously.

Jungkook sighed and shook his head. “Lord Frey is a dangerous man, but he’s not stupid. It wouldn’t do well to start a fight with me and my men here. But I want you safe.”

“I will be safe,” you promised. “I have you, don’t I?”

Jungkook chuckled, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close into a warm embrace. “Yes, you do,” he mumbled into your hair softly. “You’ll always have me.”

You wrapped your own arms around him, holding him close to you as you shut your eyes.

It would be a long night ahead.

The chatter during the feast was loud and servants were walking around refilling goblets with wine and replenishing the food that was being eaten by the hungry Northerners. You spotted a few of your own men seated at tables or standing around flirting with the women, having fun. You could even spot a few people dancing to the merry tunes the band was playing.

Your eyes landed on Jungkook’s uncle, seated happily by his new bride—who turned out to be quite a beautiful girl—eating berries from her hand while she laughed. You couldn’t help but have to hold back a chuckle at the sight, as the entire way here he had been moaning and complaining about the marriage. But now he was sat beside his bride, enjoying himself completely. You tried not to think ill of your husband’s uncle, but he was indeed extremely shallow. Just a look at a beautiful girl and he was forgetting himself, completely overjoyed.

“That could have been you, up there,” you teased, turning toward Jungkook, who was sitting beside you. He was comfortable, leaned back in his chair, the food on his plate nearly completely gone and the wine in his goblet having been refilled at least twice. “Eating berries from a beautiful girl’s hand, enjoying yourself.”

Jungkook hummed, sending you a small smirk. “Maybe I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Your mouth fell open and you faced him fully, making to smack your hand against his chest for the jab. He caught your wrist easily and his smirk turned into a wolfish grin. “Striking your king is treason, you know.”

You lifted a brow at his words and cocked your head to the side teasingly. Jungkook pulled you toward him with the hand in his grip and you pushed at him lightly when he made to kiss you. “No, don’t,” you mumbled, leaning away from him. “Don’t insult them.”

Jungkook grumbled but did as you asked, leaning back in his chair and dropping your wrist. You sat back in your chair as well, just in time it seemed. The loud music in the dining feast started to quiet, the new happy couple stealing glances at each other seated up by Lord Frey.

“Your Grace,” the man called. “Your uncle has wrapped my daughter in a cloak and the Septon has prayed his prayers. But they are not yet man and wife! A sword needs a sheath, and a wedding needs a bedding!” There were roars of laughter around you and you grimaced. How could a man utter such words at his own daughter’s wedding? You supposed you were luckier than most to have married Jungkook, even if the wedding had been cloaked in despair and death. “What does my sire say?”

The men around all of you started to cheer and slam their cups into the tables. “Bed! Bed! Bed!”

Jungkook smiled and sat up in his chair. “If you think the time is right, Lord Frey, then by all means—let us bed them!”

Applause and cheers broke out as the Northerners rushed forward to make a grab for the newlyweds. Jungkook’s uncle was laughing along with the women and girls who grabbed at his clothes and started to undress him as they went, though you could see the Frey bride’s unease as the men carried her out, shedding her of her outer clothes.

You tried not to shake your head at the sight, remaining in your seat instead. Jungkook reached over and held your hand comfortingly in his, sending you a smile. The large doors shut loudly after the couple was led out along with the men and women, and only a handful remained—including a lot of your own men. You leaned toward your husband, but then Lord Frey’s voice rang out again in the quieted hall, a strangely familiar tune playing from the band.

“Your Grace,” he called out. “I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in my duties. I’ve given you meat, and wine, and music, but I haven’t shown you the hospitality you deserve. My King has married and I owe my new Queen a wedding gift!” The lord chuckled as he spoke, but something about his voice and the way he was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.

You glanced over at Jungkook, whose eyes were on the lord’s, and you caught the barest glimpse of something in the light. You started to turn in your seat and saw a hand with a tight grip come down toward your king. You couldn’t process what was happening until you heard Jungkook’s pained grunt, his hand loosening around yours.

It was a knife.

Your eyes widened and you started to scream as the man stabbed Jungkook’s abdomen repeatedly with his blade, blood splattering on your hand gripped in your husband’s, and spilling from his clothes. Jungkook released your hand to grip at his wounds while the man hurriedly shifted away so that he couldn’t grab him. Your hands started to reach for Jungkook.

You were still screaming when hands gripped your arms, yanking you out of your seat and away from Jungkook. You could vaguely hear shouts and the sound of metal slashing against armor and skin, the faint sound of Jungkook’s mother screaming her son’s name, but your eyes were focused on him and him alone. He tried to get up from his seat and failed, groaning with pain as his men were slaughtered alongside him.

“Let me go!” you shouted, thrashing against whoever was holding you. “Please, please, let me go—let me go!” The man didn’t listen to you, simply holding you against him in place as he moved away from the bloody scene. A hand came up to cover your mouth when you started screaming incoherently.

Your wide eyes took in the scene of carnage, Northern men falling into puddles of their own blood, the band shooting arrows from their crossbows at any Northerner still standing, and you could feel the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. Jungkook crumpled to the floor from his seat, cradling his torso as blood pooled underneath him. With a quick sweep of the room, you could see that it was your men along with the Freys who were weilding bloody weapons.

What had they done?

As the screams and shouts had faded, almost everyone lying dead on the floor, you spotted Jungkook’s mother standing in front of Lord Frey, a knife in her own hand and blood dripping down her arm and to the floor. Jungkook was gripping the side of a table, pulling himself up shakily onto his feet, one hand still pressed uselessly to his bleeding stomach.

“Enough!” she shouted, voice thick. “Let it end! Please… he is my son. Let him go and we will take no vengeance, I swear it! By the old gods and new, we will forget this!”

“You already swore me one oath—you swore by all the gods your son would marry my daughter!” Lord Frey shouted back, comfortably seated in his chair.

“Jungkook!” she cried, turning to face her staggering son. “Jungkook, get up! Get up and walk out, please!” Your chest was wracked with silent sobs as the man held you, his hand still covering your mouth, and you cried helplessly at the desperation in her voice, the same desperation filling you. “Please!”

Lord Frey scoffed. “And why would I let him do that?”

Jungkook was standing now on his own, facing his mother. Then he turned back, his dark eyes finding yours. You fought against the grip around you harder, trying to get to him.

You spotted a man making his way toward Jungkook and you screamed, tried to make Jungkook understand that he needed to leave, needed to get away from the man. With a shock, you realized the man making his way to Jungkook was Eunwoo. Had this all been arranged before with your mother and Eunwoo, along with your men?

He grabbed your husband by his shoulder and stood completely in front of him. Brandishing a knife, he mumbled something quietly to Jungkook, and then he plunged the knife into his gut once more. Yanking it out, Eunwoo stepped away and left Jungkook to crumple once again to the ground, into his own blood, completely limp.

The grip around you loosened enough for you to stumble forward, falling to your knees. Staggering forward, you made your way over to Jungkook and fell once again to your knees at his side. You could feel the damp blood seeping into your dress, but you paid it no mind as you cried, your hands desperately clinging to Jungkook, his eyes open and staring up at nothing.

You looked up and saw someone grab Jungkook’s mother and shift their blade against her skin, slitting her throat, and she fell to the floor in a heap as blood spurted from the slice. You turned back to your husband and king, laying lifeless in front of you as the men hurried to and fro, cheering for their victory against the King in the North.

Your hands grabbed at his chest and torso, coming away sticky with his blood, and you shakily placed them against his cheeks. His dark eyes were unseeing and you couldn’t stop sobbing, not paying any mind to anything else that was happening around you.

“Jungkook,” you whispered, the tears still falling. “You can’t leave me, please,” you cried. “Please don’t leave me, you have to stay with me, Jungkook, please—don’t you remember?” The tears fell onto his face while you asked, a small pained smile making its way onto your face. “You said I would always have you. That’s what you said, Jungkook. You can’t leave—” You broke off into muffled sobs, unable to continue speaking.

There was no answer.

You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his, weeping for another loss amidst the deafening shouts and cheers of the men around you.

all rights reserved © junqkook | 17 JAN 2020 | the reposting, modifying, and/or translating of any kind on any medium is strictly NOT allowed. 

#jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #jeon jungkook #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bangtan x reader #jjk #bts #bangtan #smut #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #bts game of thrones au #bts got au #jungkook got au #jungkook game of thrones au #game of thrones #game of thrones au #got au #lord jungkook #royal au #bts royal au #bts fantasy au #royal jungkook #jungkook royal au #mine*

[when-they-write-stuff]

SterekWeek2020: Day Seven (Halloween)

(so late, but finally here!)

~

Derek was acting strange.

And yeah, Stiles supposed he really shouldn’t be that surprised. Derek was always acting strange in some way or another, it seemed like. For a man who had basically built his reputation on the idea that he was this big scary werewolf, Derek Hale had shown himself to be a lot more complex than that.

But the point was, Derek Hale was acting strange. And Stiles didn’t know why.

It started with the little things. Things like Derek vanishing out of nowhere and coming back to the loft much later in ruffled clothes and a pleased expression on his face. Stiles had asked the betas on multiple occasions what the hell was happening, but none of them ever seemed to know.

Or really care, for that matter. Erica would shrug and drag Boyd off to her room for some ‘alone’ time and Isaac would proceed to wrap himself in blankets and hog the TV, the volume up much too loud to cover up what Stiles could only assume were sounds he was glad he didn’t have the enhancements to hear.

Sometimes, there were perks to being human.

Derek always came back, of course. The first time he’d vanished, Stiles had been over helping Isaac with his homework— something Scott had roped them into. It had started as a pack study group, except then the young Alpha had gotten back together with Allison and spent more time at her house than at the loft anymore.

It didn’t help that Isaac needed the help, too. And Stiles would like to say that he had a heart of gold, thank you very much, and was kind enough to never abandon the beta.

Also, he got to hang around Derek— er, the other betas. At the loft. Nothing else.

The one downside was Peter.

When Stiles had asked him about Derek’s mysterious getaways, Peter had only smirked over the top of his book. And Stiles knew the asshole knew exactly where Derek kept going, but he was very conveniently keeping that information to himself.

Which made Stiles feel a little less bad when he spent time at the loft pretending Peter didn’t exist. 

The first time Derek had vanished out of nowhere, Stiles had waited until the man came back. And Derek had come through the loft door hours later, shirtless and in ripped pants, looking like he’d gotten into a fight with a mountain lion and lost. But when Stiles had bombarded him with questions, refusing to leave until he got some sort of answer, Derek had just shrugged and locked himself in his room, leaving Stiles alone in the silent loft.

He’d tried to get Derek to talk since, he really had. Stiles had even attempted to follow the man once, but he’d only made it to the preserve before he lost Derek among the trees.

It was probably werewolf stuff, Scott had said. He didn’t seem very intrigued that Derek was living a secret second life, but Stiles supposed he hadn’t expected the boy to be. He just wanted someone to be as curious as he was and the betas were a bust, Scott was too obsessed with Allison, and when Stiles had tried to bring it up with Lydia, she’d proceeded to turn around and walk away.

It was Derek’s business, she’d said. Which… yeah. But still. Stiles was confused.

Months ended up passing since that very first day. Derek continued to act strange on certain days and go on mini-vacations, and Stiles continued to be utterly lost. It wasn’t until he’d nearly given up that things finally changed.

It was Halloween night when Stiles finally figured out Derek’s little secret.

He knew the betas planned to go around town in their beta forms, scaring the crap out of little kids, but Stiles had already decided he wasn’t going with them. Because when someone inevitably called the cops and Stiles’s dad showed up, he was not going to be the betas scapegoat.

No, Stiles planned on hanging out at the loft with the others to watch scary movies. Derek had been a little stubborn when Lydia first volunteered his place to meet up, but the man had eventually given in. Even Derek Hale knew better than to argue with Lydia Martin.

And Stiles totally wasn't looking forward to spending time at Derek’s loft. Totally not at all.

He might’ve been a little.

Except Derek wasn’t at the loft when Stiles arrived.

“Okay,” Stiles said, coming back into the main room after doing a thorough search of the loft. “Where the hell is our mighty Alpha?”

“Why does it matter?” Scott asked, looking confused. He was curled up on the couch with Allison, and she didn’t look too worried either. From where she sat in the other chair, Lydia didn’t even glance up from her phone.

“He’s gone,” Stiles said. “Again. Doesn’t that ever strike any of you as strange?”

“Not really,” Scott said. Allison shrugged.

“Maybe he's out doing something.”

“Like?”

She glanced at Scott, who shook his head. “Keeping an eye on the betas?”

“Derek doesn’t babysit the betas,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure he’d sooner eat his own hand.”

“Gross, Stiles,” Lydia said, making a face. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“You know it’s true. He’s gone again. On Halloween night. What the hell is more important than scary movies and candy on Halloween night?”

“Why do you care so much?” Lydia said, a familiar glint in her green eyes. It was that knowing look she’d gotten the first time Stiles had complained about Derek’s antics. Glaring at her, Stiles fished out his keys and started toward the loft door, grabbing his hoodie from the back of the nearest chair.

“I don’t,” he said. “But the asshole is being weird and I’m going to go figure out what he’s doing.”

“Oh, come on, Stiles,” Scott called. “You’re going to miss the movie!”

“There’s plenty of time to watch scary movies tonight,” Stiles said, waving a hand over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

Stiles was pretty sure Scott started to say something else, but he didn’t stick around to listen. 

And yeah, maybe Derek’s business was Derek’s business or whatever. But Stiles was pretty damn curious and he’d had enough. The man was hiding something from them and for some reason, nobody else seemed to care.

What if he was in trouble? Secretly dying? Had an embarrassing hobby that Stiles totally wanted to know about?

The possibilities were endless.

He wasn’t exactly sure where to go looking for the man. The preserve was usually Derek’s go-to when Stiles attempted to follow him, but that never ended well. One time, he’d ditched the Camaro on the side of the road and literally disappeared— and Stiles hadn’t even known what to think about that.

Maybe Derek was also part ghost. A werewolf alpha ghost.

Okay, maybe not.

Stiles ended up deciding to do a quick drive of the town. Because if Derek really was being a ‘disproving Alpha’ to the betas, then he might as well find out before wasting his night looking for one grumpy-growly werewolf. And maybe he could get to see Derek chew them out too.

That was always amusing.

There were already tons of people out, even though it wasn’t that dark yet. Stiles wasn’t really sure where the betas would go, but he may or may not have put a tracker into Isaac’s phone the first time Isaac let him borrow it. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the boy or anything, but Derek’s betas always seemed to be getting themselves in trouble. And Stiles knew there was no way he was ever getting his hands on the phones of the other two.

He’d put a tracker in Derek’s too, if he could only figure out what the man’s freaking password was. It wasn’t like Derek was good at technology but damn, if the man didn’t know how to keep unwanted visitors out of his phone.

Isaac’s phone placed him all the way across town. In one of Beacon Hills larger neighborhoods, probably scaring the crap out of innocent little kids, if Stiles was right.

He was.

He caught sight of the betas almost immediately— and quickly ducked down. Because Stiles hadn’t gone with them for a reason, remember? And that reason was looking at him right in the face in the form of flashing police lights and Stiles’s dad looking disappointed, giving the betas the chewing-out that Stiles had kind of hoped to see Derek giving.

The grumpy Alpha, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight. Stiles did spot a small group of trick-or-treaters and their parents watching, though. 

And a giant black dog, standing a little ways away from the flashing lights.

Stiles tilted his head, watching the dog curiously. He couldn’t make out a collar, but it seemed well-behaved enough, sitting on someone's lawn and watching the betas get lectured. It almost looked… interested. In a scarily human way.

Suddenly, dark amber eyes were locked on his own and then the dog was watching him.

Stiles jerked, hitting his elbow on the steering wheel with a curse. And when he looked back, rubbing at his funny bone, the dog was gone.

As if it had never been there.

Stiles stared for another long moment before shaking his head, wondering faintly if he was going crazy.

He drove off before he could get caught by one of the betas or worse, his dad, determined to have nothing to do with them being idiots. At this point, it was much darker, and Stiles figured he was never going to find Derek unless the man wanted to be found.

Which clearly, he didn’t.

So Stiles headed home, deciding to grab a few of his favorite horror movies before heading back to the loft. He’d probably already missed the first one, but that wasn’t a big loss. Scott had brought it and the boy had terrible taste in movies. 

He still hadn’t seen Star Wars yet.

Stiles hadn’t spent Halloween at home since his mom’s death. Before, they used to decorate the house and hand out candy, but things changed when she passed. And Stiles wasn’t a little kid anymore. His dad worked Halloween night anyway, and Stiles hated to be alone in the silence, so he usually ended up going to the McCall’s instead of hanging out alone. 

Or, that’s what he’d done before the pack. Before he had other people to spend the holidays with.

Stiles would never admit out loud how much he kind of loved it.

Which brought him back to his sour mood and the fact that Derek wasn’t around tonight. Stiles didn’t think he’d be so offended if the man would just tell one of them what he was doing. It wasn’t like he was worried about the asshole or whatever, but… it’d be nice to know.

That’s all it was.

Stiles grabbed a few movies, a bag of chips (because Derek never had any good snacks around), and headed back out into the night to see a large black dog sitting on his lawn.

The large black dog.

Stiles froze, movies in one hand and the bag of chips in the other. For a moment, he didn’t move and the dog didn’t either, looking at him with those eerily knowing eyes.

“Uh,” Stiles finally said, taking a nervous step back. “Hey, there, doggie?”

The dog growled. And if Stiles was being honest, it looked a lot more like a wolf than a dog, big enough to probably rip out his throat with ease.

Stiles suddenly froze, staring. 

A grumpy-growly wolf-dog. Following him and the betas around, all while Derek was on the loose who-knew-where...

“No freaking way,” Stiles breathed. “Sourwolf?”

Either he was losing his mind and talking to stray wolf-dogs, or Derek was sitting right in front of him. Not ripping his throat out, which Stiles supposed he should be grateful for, but was this really the secret the man had been keeping for months?

“Oh my god, dude, you go furry now?”

The dog snarled, stalking forward. Stiles squeaked, dropping both the movie and bag of chips. He stumbled back, ramming against the door, and fumbled blindly for the doorknob. Except, before he could yank it open and maybe spend the rest of the night hiding from an angry wolf-dog-thing, it was getting larger, less furry, and suddenly Derek Hale was standing in front of him.

Stiles yelped, clapping his hands over his eyes and turning his face away.

“Dude, genitals!”

Yeah, that sentence actually left his mouth.

And it wasn’t like Stiles had never imagined seeing Derek naked before, but if he had, it would not be in a situation like this. Stiles was far too shocked to remove his hands for a moment, but he was pretty sure that a grown man standing naked on his front porch was going to get the cops called and— and his dad could not see this.

Oh god, his dad could never see this.

“D-Derek?”

“Stiles.”

Stiles flinched, lowering his hands but keeping his eyes firmly closed. Turning around blindly, he felt around until he found the doorknob and turned it, stumbling back into his house. And after a moment, he heard what sounded like Derek following.

“Shut the door behind you,” Stiles said, finally opening his eyes but keeping them straight ahead. “I swear to god, dude, shut the door and hope for both our sakes that nobody saw you go from furry to nude in like, three seconds.”

Stiles heard what sounded like an unimpressed grunt, but he was really trying to pretend like there wasn’t a naked werewolf behind him, thank you very much. After a second, he heard the door shut, and then footsteps moved forward.

“Nope!” Stiles shouted, squeezing his eyes closed again. “Nope, do not take another step, dude! Not until you have some clothes on!”

“Stiles,” Derek growled, definitely sounding irritated now. Stiles waved a hand over his shoulder, cutting the man off.

“Nuh-uh. I’m going to go get you something to wear and you are going to stay… right where you are. Wherever you are. No moving, no going anywhere. No going furry again!”

“Stiles—”

“I swear to god, Sourwolf, I will murder you if you don’t listen to me right now.”

Derek went silent and Stiles waited for a moment longer before realizing he had the upper hand here. More than relieved, he stumbled toward the stairs, keeping his gaze firmly averted until the living room was out of sight 

On the top of the stairs, Stiles could easily freak out in peace. He was pretty sure Derek could still hear his heartbeats but whatever.

There was a naked werewolf one floor below. Derek Hale was naked in his living room.

And the man had just been a damn wolf.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Stiles said, heading for his dad’s room. The last time he’d attempted to make Derek wear his clothes, it had nearly ended in a murder, so he figured he’d go with the safe option this time. And that ended up being a pair of sweatpants and Beacon Hills PD t-shirt that Stiles was going to make sure his dad never wore again.

Derek Hale and the Sheriff sharing clothes might be something Stiles would never recover from.

He paused at the top of the stairs again, debating just throwing them down and telling Derek to fetch. But that probably wouldn’t end well either. Taking a deep breath, Stiles moved back downstairs and turned into the living room again, turning his gaze to the floor the moment he caught sight of a bare chest and Derek’s slightly peeved expression.

The man hadn’t moved, at least.

“Here,” Stiles said, thrusting the stack of clothes forward. He heard Derek grunt and could easily imagine the man rolling his eyes, but Derek took them without a complaint.

Stiles turned a little ways away, eyeing the wall with interest until the rustling of clothes turned into silence once more and he glanced back to see Derek finally clothed.

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles said. Derek rolled his eyes.

“Are you happy now?”

“Am I— no, asshole, I’m not happy! You were just naked. And before that, you were a freaking wolf. A wolf! When the hell did that happen?”

Derek’s face tightened. “It’s new.”

“New as in it started a few months ago? You know, when you started disappearing out of nowhere?”

Derek didn’t answer. Stiles groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I hate you sometimes, you know that?”

“I can just leave,” Derek shot back, folding his arms over his chest. Stiles threw up his hands.

“Yeah, well, why did you come here in the first place?”

“Why were you following me all over town?”

“Following— following? I wasn’t following you, asshole! I didn’t even know where the hell you were! I was looking,” Stiles said, glaring. “There’s a difference.”

Derek’s tight expression didn’t change. “Okay, why were you looking?”

“Because I was worried!”

Derek’s eye twitched. But before he could say another word, the doorbell rang and Stiles startled, glancing at it and cursing. 

“Trick-or-treaters. But we don’t have any candy to hand out.”

“So just ignore it.”

Stiles went silent and a few seconds passed before the doorbell rang again. Cursing again, he waved Derek off and hurried into the kitchen, scrounging around before finding a box of granola bars. Figuring that would have to be good enough, he rushed back over to the door and pulled it open.

There were only a handful of kids on the step, thankfully. The air filled with the chorus of “trick or treat!” and Stiles put on his best smile, offering the granola bars forward.

One kid frowned. “Where’s the candy?”

“Not here, dude.”

“Why not?”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at him, but before he could say a word, the kid stiffened with a gasp. Turning around, Stiles realized Derek had come to stand behind him, the man’s eyes glowing bright red and his face half-shifted.

A second passed. Then, a chorus of screams filled the air and all of the kids turned, racing from the doorstep. Stiles blinked after them, then turned back toward Derek, staring at the man incredulously.

“Dude, what the hell?”

Derek looked unbothered, the red fading from his eyes as he turned back around. Stiles gazed after him, then glanced back over his shoulder, swallowing hard at the glares from the parents on the sidewalk. He was pretty sure one of the kids was crying.

Oh, this was just fantastic.

“Oh my fucking god,” Stiles said, slamming the door closed. “Derek, you can’t just do that!”

“You can’t give granola bars out instead of candy.”

“Um, excuse me,” Stiles said, gesturing around. “But do you see any candy lying around? And you probably just scarred all of those kids for life, you know!”

Derek shrugged, dropping down onto the couch. “They’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now.”

The man raised an eyebrow, as if he hadn’t just nearly given a bunch of children heart attacks. Stiles stood rooted to the spot for a moment before stalking over, jabbing a threatening finger in the werewolf’s face.

“You’re going to tell me how this started. Now.”

Derek didn’t look fazed. And dammit, if Stiles didn’t hate him sometimes.

“Derek, I swear to god—”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Derek said. “It’s new. My mother could full-shift and now I can too.”

Stiles clenched his jaw. “And you didn’t think to tell the rest of the pack?”

“I was learning how to control it.”

“You know, some of us could have helped.”

Derek gave him a flat look. And Stiles did his best not to flush bright red, crossing his arms as he dropped into the armchair across from the man. 

“I could have helped.”

“Hm.”

“You were a dog,” Stiles stated. And to the man’s continued silence, he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my god, you can turn into a dog.”

“A wolf, Stiles.”

“Wolf, dog, whatever. You can literally rip throats out now.”

When he glanced through his fingers, Derek almost looked a little pleased. And nope, that wasn’t fair at all. Stiles had a real reason to fear for his life when he pissed the man off a little too much, now. And that was not something to be pleased about.

Not in his book, at least.

“You could have told someone, you know,” Stiles said grumpily. “I mean, other than Peter.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah, Peter,” Stiles said, “Trust me, the Creeperwolf knows.”

Derek actually looked a little surprised at that. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

“What?”

Stiles looked at him in disbelief. Because seriously? He’d been trying to figure out what Derek was doing for months now. And the man still seemed surprised that Stiles had wanted to know? “Dude, do you know how many theories I had?”

Derek looked at him blankly. Stiles huffed.

“I swear to god, I thought you were in trouble or dying or something. That’s stressful, dude!”

“I was fine.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell anyone that.”

Derek looked confused for a moment. Then his face did something weird-- Derek actually looked more like a soft teddy bear for a moment, instead of a grumpy werewolf, and Stiles didn’t know what the hell to do with that. “I was fine, Stiles.”

Stiles crossed his arms, glaring down at the floor. Derek sighed.

“Well, now you know, right?”

Stiles looked at the floor for another moment before glancing back up. “Why show me tonight? I wouldn’t have figured it out.”

“You were driving all over town looking for me, Stiles.”

“I was concerned!”

Stiles could’ve sworn the corners of Derek's mouth twitched. And yep, this whole thing was weirding him out. From the wolf, to the nudity, to the fact that Derek Hale looked like he was about to smile.

Stiles leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not going crazy, right?”

“Really, Stiles?”

“I’m just saying, dude,” Stiles said, raising his hands. “This is all kind of weirding me out.”

For a moment, Derek looked uncomfortable. “The shift?”

Stiles blinked. Derek glanced away.

“It’s different. From the others. It's strange.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said. “No, of course that's not it, dude. You being a literal freaking wolf? That’s the coolest thing ever, man.”

Derek glanced up, face a little red. Stiles huffed.

“I guess I’m just not used to having naked werewolves hanging out in my living room.”

The red went all the way to Derek’s ears this time. He scowled, but Stiles thought he could look grumpier. The glare didn't quite reach his eyes and the red of his face was definitely amusing. “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Hmm, sure. So are you going to tell the rest of the pack at some point?”

“At some point.”

Stiles grinned a little bit. “So I’m the only one who knows, then? Other than Peter the Creeper, at least. God, I feel so special.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “For now.”

“I'll take it,” Stiles said, grinning wider. To Derek’s flat look, he raised his hands. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

The man's eyes flashed bright red at that and he smirked. “No, you won’t.”

“I-is that a threat, Sourwolf?”

“You said it yourself. I can rip out throats now.”

A shiver ran down Stiles's spine, but he couldn't tell if it was a terrified one or not. He didn't think so. “I didn’t need that imagery.” And the whole smirking-threat thing totally wasn’t a strange turn on. Not at all.

Dammit.

Except before Derek could say a word again, or maybe catch wind of Stiles's teenage hormones betraying him, the doorbell rang once more. Stiles startled and Derek’s eyes flickered red again. Before the man could go scar more innocent children, though, Stiles jumped up and grabbed the box of granola bars. "Don't you dare."

Derek gave him a flat look. Stiles shrugged.

“I didn’t plan on being around tonight,” he said. “I don't have candy to hand out. Everyone is gathered at the loft anyway. Err, minus the betas perhaps.”

“They might be back by now.”

"Or they're in jail."

Derek didn't look fazed. "It'd be a good lesson."

Stiles rolled his eyes at that, glancing toward the door as the bell rang again. Derek raised an eyebrow, waiting, and Stiles glanced down at the box of granola bars again. Then, he sighed. “Okay, fine, big guy, you get one more scare. Then, we’re going to the loft. Understood?”

The man looked surprised. Stiles smirked a little.

“Or you can stay here and explain to my dad why you’re wearing his clothes when he gets off his shift.”

Stiles was more than entertained to see Derek look terrified for a moment. The big bad wolf, literally looking like Stiles had just threatened him with a stick of wolfsbane. And, full shift wolf or not, Stiles was totally remembering that.

“So?” he said, tilting his head toward the door. And was he a terrible person for allowing this? Maybe a little bit? “Are you gonna go?”

There were definite fangs in Derek half-smirk. That really shouldn’t have been such a turn on too.

Stiles was pretty sure someone was going to call the cops on his house too, just like with the betas. And wouldn’t that confuse the hell out of his dad? Stiles supposed he could always throw them under the bus a second time if needed.

Seconds after Derek opened the door, screams filled the air. Stiles glanced down at the box of granola bars in his hands.

Well…

He set them on the front porch with a ‘take one’ sign when they left, just in case. And Derek made sure Stiles knew he thought the entire thing was stupid and 'granola bars should never be a replacement for candy.' Stiles had never realized the man was such a Halloween snob.

The entire box was still there the next morning.

#sterek #teen wolf #sterekweek2020 #sterek au #wolf!derek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #teen wolf edits #sterek edits #sterek moodboard #derek hale x stiles stilinski #fluff #humor #ficlet #late but here

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 16

-----------------------

It was 2006, one of the last seasons for Beacon Hills Girls lacrosse. The other girls on the team and I fought hard but it would be over by the time my senior year rolled around. We thought if we had made it to the state championships, we would save it. Here’s to hoping. As team captain, all eyes were on me to make the season great. We were lined up on the field, ready for the toss up. I stared into the eyes of the opposing player, the girl’s eyes were determined. But so were mine, I glanced to the side at the bleachers. There was Uncle Noah, Stiles, and Scott, cheering me on. I was just happy Stiles came today.

I looked back up, just in time for the pearl toss, I scooped it from the air, immediately shoving passed the opposing player. I ran down the field, narrowly missing players looking to tackle. I threw the ball towards an open offensive player just as someone slammed me from the side. I grunted as I hit the ground, hearing the crowd wince. I got myself up on my arms and looked down the field. My player was able to get through the other team’s defense and scored the game winning goal. Coach Finstock laughed loudly, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. I stood up, raising my crosse in the air and shouted into the sky. I ran back to the bench, congratulating my teammates. But now I needed to see him. I pushed through the crowd, I looked around. As I got through the crowd, I was left alone. I was staring out into the woods. An eerie feeling came over me. There was something out there. 

“Hey!” Michael’s smiling face came into my vision, causing me to smile. 

“Hey.” I smiled, looking back at the crowd, “Have you seen Derek?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at me, “Who’s Derek?” I paused, asking myself the same question. 

“I don’t know.”

-

“So let me get this straight,” I said into the phone. I was on the phone with Stiles getting a recap of what had happened over the last couple days, “You stole a police transport vehicle-”

“We put gas in it!” 

“Of course, you did. You stole a transport van, filled it with gas, kidnapped Jackson to talk to him, left him in the woods. Jackson’s father, a lawyer, has issued two restraining orders against you and Scott.” I made sure to separate the kanima and Jackson. “Found out the kanima is being used by a ‘master’. Is that it?” Derek raised his eyebrows at the conversation.

“I was also grounded from Scott.” He added. 

“Unfortunate.” 

“When are you coming home?” He asked, hushing his voice a little, “I’m all for you living out your best werewolf life but I would rather you be home.” I motioned for the group of Derek, Erica, and Isaac to go ahead of me. 

“When I have the courage to face your dad. Or when my lie that I’m staying at a friend’s house doesn’t work anymore. Whatever comes first.” I sighed, “I’ll try to come home soon. I need to apologize.” After our goodbyes, I hung up the phone. 

After I stepped into the railway car, I made it just in time for our “pack meeting” to start. 

“So, why do we need their help?” Isaac asked. 

“Because it’s harder to kill than I thought, and I still don’t know who it is.” Derek said impatiently. 

“And they do?”

“They might. Which is why I need one of you to get on their good side.”

“Mmm. Scott or Stiles?” Erica hummed flirtatiously. Honestly, I don’t think she realizes she’s barking up the wrong tree, no pun intended. Scott was more focused on Allison than his own life and Stiles was in a persistent pursuit of Miss Lydia Martin.

“Either.” Derek sighed, probably fed up with her new found flirtatious nature.

“Good luck with that.” I said under my breath, causing the group to look at me, “What? The last time they saw you, you broke into Scott’s house and tried to kill them.” Isaac titled his head to the side and nodded a little in agreement. 

Isaac turned to Derek, “You know, the full moon's coming, Derek.”

"I'm aware of that.” Derek said irritably, he opened a large wooden chest, searching around for something. He pulled out dark, rusted chains. 

“Oh my.” Erica lifted up a bundle of them, “These look comfortable.” She said sarcastically. He quickly took them from her grasp and put them with the rest that he pulled out of the chest. 

“You said you were gonna teach us to change whenever we wanted.” Isaac said warily, eyeing the chains. 

“There hasn't been time.” He said. And truly he hadn’t had time. I had really been training myself on how to control the chains with what I was calling exposure therapy. Getting really mad and controlling the change before turning so I would be less likely to kill someone during a spout of road rage. 

“But if you have to lock us up during the full moon, that means... That means you're alone against the Argents.” Isaac said. 

Derek closed the lid of the chest, “They haven't found us.”

“Yet.“ Kid had a point, “So, how about we forget about the Kanima?”

“We. Can't!” He shouted in frustration. He sighed, “There was something about the way Gerard looked at it... He wasn't afraid, at all. I don't know what he knows, or what he's planning. But, I'm sure about one thing-- we have to find it, first.” 

“With Scott’s group.” I added, “We are stronger in numbers, that’s how the hunters work and that’s how we should work.” 

-

On the drive home to the Stilinski house, I really had to convince myself not to turn back around and go back to the depot. But Uncle Noah deserved an apology. He had taken me in, given me a fresh start and asked that I be safe in return. Yet here I was, fighting a lizard man with the threat of hunters on my tail, not to mention that I was a movie monster. I parked in the driveway next to his police cruiser and closed my eyes. My emotions were running high and it was hard to keep my eyes from turning red. 

“Breathe.” Derek’s voice echoed through my head, “It’s going to be okay.”

I took a deep breath in and out and when I opened my eyes, the red was gone. Now or never. 

After closing the front door behind me, I walked quietly into the kitchen where I found him. He was leaning against the counter and sipping a cup of coffee. He looked exhausted. He looked up from his cup a little surprised. 

“(Y/N)...” 

I chewed on the inside of my cheek before answering, “Uncle Noah...”

“Is...Everything alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” I said quickly, “Everything’s....” I let out a deep breath, “Everything’s not fine. I’m so sorry about the things I said.”

He smiled a little, “It’s fine.” 

“It-It’s not fine though. You’re just looking out for me, I should appreciate that more. You’ve done more than anyone in my situation could have asked for. You opened up your home, bought me clothes, gave me my own room. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“No, no.” He said, setting down his coffee mug, “I did have to do that. Besides promising your parents that I would look after you, I did this because you’re like one of my own. You’re like the daughter I never had. I love you.” His eyes held a special twinkle. One that you could only find in people that truly loved you. 

Tears prickled at my eyes, my lips trembling, “I love you too.” 

“C’mere, sweetheart.” He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. I gripped onto the material of his shirt and cried. The first time I had really cried since everything happened with my parents. It just felt like my eyes had been built up and after a while, I was crying because of Uncle Noah, because of my parents, because of the torture I went through. I felt like I had no one to vent to like how I could my mom and dad because they weren’t here anymore. It felt nice to cry and feel safe because I knew that Uncle Noah loved me, no matter what. I just wished that if me being a werewolf did come out, he would still love me like his own. Even the thought of it scared me. 

“It’s alright.” Uncle Noah stroked my hair, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “Everything gonna be okay.” 

But it’s not okay. 

-

Just a drive to clear my head, that’s all I needed. Stiles was ringing my phone off the hook which really wasn’t helping with my anxiety right now. I looked over to reach for my phone and when I looked back there was someone standing in the middle of the road. 

“SHIT!” I screamed, turning my wheel harshly, sending me off the road and into a ditch. I slammed on the brakes, making my body slam forward into the steering wheel. I felt the cracking of my ribs against the hard plastic of the wheel. Pain washed over me in waves as I tried to catch my bearings. I felt dizzy and nauseous on account of the whiplash. I looked back towards the road and the mystery person was gone. It was around that time that my airbag went off, slapping me in the face. 

“Nice.” I grunted, opening up my car door. I turned to look out when I froze. The kanima was staring me right in the eyes. But it didn’t make any sense, unless the kanima can turn without moonlight. 

“Jackson...” I whispered, “Jackson, if you’re in there I need you to listen to me.” I swallowed, watching the creature tilt his head to the side. It seemed to recognize my voice. 

“I can help you, Jackson. I don’t want to hurt you. Just please... Don’t...”

“(Y/N)...” The creature’s voice said. I didn’t even know it was capable of speech. But the voice wasn’t exactly reptilian, as if that was possible. It wasn’t Jackson’s voice either. It was a voice that seemed so familiar, but not. 

“Well... That’s not good.” I said, just starting to move to get to the other side of the car when I felt Jackson’s whip-like tail slice across my side. 

“God....dammit.” My voice was strained since my entire body became paralyzed within seconds. The creature reached out, pulling me out of the car. 

Ah yes, a roadside killing for the kanima, how wonderful. Okay, maybe thoughts like this weren’t the best. This is how I died, alone on the side of the road. I took a deep breath, watching the world go by as Jackson’s scaly hands dragged me down into the ditch further. 

A loud roar cut through the air and I felt Jackson drop me, hissing before I heard him take off into the woods. Derek’s face filled my vision and relief washed over me.

“It’s alright, I got you.” He said, picking me in his arms. I saw my car out of the corner of my eye. 

“Is she totaled?” I asked. 

“No, she’s fine.” He chuckled, “Your transmissions probably shot though.” 

“Awesome.” I groaned, closing my eyes. 

- By the time I woke up, it was later in the day and I was back home on the couch. With Derek and Uncle Noah... talking. My eyes widened and I sat up, I hissed in pain and laid back down. My head was still killing me. 

“Woah, slow down there, kid.” Uncle Noah came to my side, kneeling down beside me on the couch. He smiled and smoothed back my hair from my face, “I thought I told you when you saw a deer in the road, you can’t swerve. Just slow down and if you hit it, you hit it. It’s sad, but there are more deer, there’s only one you.” I glanced up at Derek, who had his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed not at all concerned around Uncle Noah. 

Uncle Noah followed my line of sight and smiled, “It’s okay, secret’s out.” My heart almost stopped, why in the hell would Derek tell him I was a werew-

“And it’s okay. I am... okay with you seeing Derek.” I blinked at him. 

“What?” 

“Is that where you’ve been? At a friend’s house.” He stood up and chuckled, patting Derek on the shoulder, “Derek, here, explained it all to me.” 

“I told him that you didn’t want to disappoint him by dating someone who was a murder suspect.” Derek said, smiling a bit at the sheriff. 

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine now. Just for the future, you can always tell me anything. No matter what.” He smiled reassuringly. Well... I guess that was one thing out of the way. 

“Your car’s in the shop, it’ll be there a day or two. So for now, Derek has volunteered to take you to work.” Uncle Noah smiled, then looked down at his phone, “I gotta take this.” He excused himself from the room and left out the front door. I sat back up again, looking up at Derek’s with my eyebrows raised. 

“How did that whole situation go?” Referring to ex-con Derek Hale telling the chief of police that he is dating his pseudo-daughter while she was unconscious in his arms. 

Derek shrugged, coming to sit on the edge of the couch, “Well, I was threatened with the gun at first. But after explaining some things... He understood.” He reached out, holding my hand, “He also said he was glad that we were friends again.” 

“Does that mean my parents told him that I wasn’t friends with you anymore and not to bring you up?” 

“Seems like it.” He sighed, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. 

“God.” I breathed out, feeling tension rising in my shoulders, “I understand why they did what they did but... They had a total disregard of the consequences. What were they going to say when I asked what happened to you, would they tell me they told you to go away or would they lie again? A majority of my life was stolen from me and when I try to remember my old lacrosse games where you could have been there... The only face I see is Michael’s. And I think he knew something.” 

“We’re gonna figure it out.” He said. I moved closer to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. 

Derek then explained the events of the dad, the kanima attacked Scott, Stiles, Erica, and Allison in detention and he had agreed to not kill the creature. 

“Why did the kanima go after me? Why didn’t he kill me immediately.” 

“You don’t have to cover for him anymore, I know it’s Jackson.” 

I sighed, “Good, because I didn’t like keeping it from you.” 

“Yeah, why did you keep it from me?” He asked, looking down at me. 

I gave him a surprised look, “Well, gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you would have killed him? Yeah, he’s a douchebag, but that’s a little much. From what you said, finding out Jackson was adopted at birth and that he literally had to be removed from his mother’s dead body... Maybe that’s what caused the bite to mutate.” 

“It’s possible.” The sound of the door slamming shut and the sound of familiar awkward footsteps made us both look up. Stiles halted in the living room, looking me over. I’m sure I looked like a wreck, still kinda felt like it, but the cracked ribs and head injury had healed by now. 

Stiles pressed his lips together tightly, moving with purpose. He fell to his knees in front of the couch, wrapping his arms around me. Trying not to cry for the second time today, I hugged him, resting my cheek on top of his head. 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. Stiles hold tightened at my words but he didn’t say anything. Derek nodded at me, making his way out of the house. Leaving Stiles and I alone. 

----------------

Read part 17 here!

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