#sorry this took so long i kept getting distracted 💜

[eternityservedcold]

my writeup on the typing styles in mourner

prefacing this with: im assigning personality traits to typing styles here, but i dont think any of it actually applies to real people. its basically like assigning characters birthdays that place them in a star sign that reflects their traits -- its fun! but its not real

also, to be clear, there are both diagetic and non-diagetic aspects to all of this! for example, if a character TYPES IN ALL CAPS, its safe to assume theyre a pretty loud person. these are also how each character would type if they were actually talking online!

azazel

typing style: usually all lowercase! frequent user of exclamation marks and ellipses... uses CAPS or Title Case for emphasis. usually drops punctuation at the end of a "paragraph"

analysis: lowercase reflects his generally carefree attitude and naivete. her punctuation habits reflect her tendency to say things a bit too loud or excited, as well as trailing off a lot. the usage of CAPS indicates when they are intentionally emphasizing something, and the use of Title Case is more like... anxiety? though it is also used for emphasis, theyre pretty interchangeable

also worth noting is that azazels typing style (and, therefore, speaking style) is modeled after my own. this provides little (if any) insight into daer character but its a fun fact! in my original design documents i think i literally wrote "just type normally" or something LOL

isaac

typing style: usually all lowercase, little/irregular punctuation, frequent spelling mistakes. uses handwritten uppercase when having a breakdown (i didnt make typos here for legibility)

analysis: lowercase reflects that theyre soft spoken and that combined with the almost complete lack of punctuation makes them feel younger. his spelling mistakes ive explained before as him stumbling over his words or stuttering, plus a secret reason that will help us later. the handwritten uppercase reflects that she has trouble controlling her volume when breaking down, as well as her words being garbled through sobs (and MORE word stumbling)

maggy

typing style: Proper case and punctuation. Frequent use of exclamation points! Sometimes uses emoticons instead of punctuation :D

analysis: so the original concept here was kind of a "more grown up" version of isaac. this can be seen through the proper case and punctuation compared to isaacs lack of either. her typing style also shows how bubbly and excitable she is! if you freaked her out a lot (which hasnt happened) i think she might start speaking in lowercase with a typo or two. she definitely wouldnt go full isaac though. also i think whenever she "says" an emoticon shes probably making some sort of contextually appropriate noise (her autistic swag)

cain

typing style: all lowercase with no apostrophes but otherwise semi-frequent punctuation. uses CAPS for emphasis

analysis: well... hes just a little boy. his typing style shows how little he cares for social rules and also how easygoing he is. very much like azazel! nothing in particular to say about him

judas

typing style: Perfect case and punctuation. Mostly uses periods and ellipses.

analysis: this is honestly just the perfect typing style for him its so... like, if youre typing on the internet, this style of typing takes MORE effort than, for example, how im typing right now. but its generally accepted as the "best" style to type in for formal purposes. so it shows a little bit of his complexity already. on top of (and/or because of) that, it also gives off a sort of "academic" vibe, which is very judas

judas shadow, when/if they show up, will have a completely different typing style, due to the entire gimmick of judas shadow being [if you know you know]

blue baby

typing style: all lowercase. sporadic punctuation. usually either has really short sentences or really long run on sentences

analysis: this is another "isaac but DIFFERENT" typing style LOL. the entire idea of blue baby as a character is "what if isaac just did not care" so it makes sense on that level. as seen in other lowercase sporadic punctuation typing styles, it showcases blue is more laid back and careless

eve

typing style: Proper capitalization. Doesnt use punctuation except between sentences in the same "paragraph". Usage of apostrophes in contractions is inconsistent

analysis: this specific combination of typing quirks makes it feel like she speaks in monotone, which is true. originally the intent was for the proper caps to give an air of elegance/maturity (which is a reading of eves character i have mixed feelings about) that would be somewhat undercut by the lack of punctuation

also, the inconsistent apostrophes was a complete accident (ie, the first time it happened it was actual real life out of universe typos) but i feel like its a thing that real people actually do and therefore gives a bit of realism to her!

samson

typing style: Proper case and punctuation. Makes more typos as he gets angrier.

analysis: very simple typing style for a very simple guy! proper case and punctuation gives a somewhat grown up feel, which is very samson, but thats pretty much all there is to be said about it

lazarus

typing style: Proper case and punctuation. Uses CAPS for emphasis, as well as using question marks to show surprise or as a filler punctuation? Uses ellipses pretty frequently as well...

analysis: another simple typing style for a simple guy. the use of question marks and ellipses reflects that he trails off a lot and doesnt really speak with confidence

eden

typing style: varies between many different typing styles

analysis: whenever youre trying to find a new identity for yourself, or generally want to change things up, the easiest thing you could possibly do is type a different way. since eden is still trying to find their own sense of self, it makes sense for them to switch up typing styles. instead of it being occasional (which is how it might happen in real life), i decided to make it change every post, just for funsies

also theyre the randomly generated character so of course they do this. bluh

the lost

typing style: Proper case . Uses a space before punctuation, except commas and apostrophes . Does not use contractions .

analysis: these traits give their dialogue a sort of "airy" or "magical" feeling. perhaps even dignified, when you factor in the way they actually speak (word choices and phrasing)! it also reflects (to me) that they speak very softly and choose their words very carefully

i dont think anyone in real life actually types with spaces between ALL punctuation, but it WAS inspired by how french people will add a space before "high" punctuation. i thought it was neat but i hate the french so its good i have an association with it that isnt them now

keeper

typing style: SHORT SENTENCES IN ALL CAPS. DOESN'T USE COMMAS. USES PERIODS OR NOTHING INSTEAD. TENDS NOT TO USE PUNCTUATION AT THE END OF A "PARAGRAPH"

analysis: obviously inspired by the fortune telling machine. the not using commas thing is due to technical limitations, but it also gives the impression that he speaks pretty quickly, which is fun! the rest of the style gives the impression that he speaks very matter-of-factly and also that he speaks pretty loud, which are both true

#cant catch me gay thoughts #why yes i did read h0mestuck as a teen why do you ask #tboi #mourneruntosheol #this post only features MAIN CHARACTERS who have SPOKEN. that basically means all of the current basement kids + the lost + keeper #as much as i would love to analyze the lamb and apollyon LOL. maybe i will analyze polly later once they speak in english #sorry this took so long i kept getting distracted 💜

[shina913]

Coquet, Part 10 | JJK

Coquet, Part 10

\ kō-​ˈket Definition: noun. a man who indulges in flirtation.

✫✫✫Coquet Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: Escort!JJK x Fem-reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Fake-dating!AU; Strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Warnings: cussing; sexually explicit language; JK hair brush-up (if that's legitimate?); vulnerable confessions; heavy pining; angst (not super dramatic, though); discussion of relationship/commitment fears; alcohol consumption; tooth-rotting fluff; fingering; masturbation; OC and JK have such filthy mouths; the return of the devil suit; oral (F-receiving); clit play; nipple play; protected sex; dirty talk; praise kink; semi-clothed sex; riding; multiple orgasms; cuddling; bed-sharing; MORE tooth-rotting fluff in the end

Word count: 11,529K words

Summary: On your brother's wedding, you dread traveling to see your family–whom you have successfully avoided for over a year after moving across the country for work. In an effort to save face, you hire an escort to get them off your back and perhaps even make your ex–who happens to be the best man–a little jealous.

A/N: This is going to be another long one because it's the finale! First off, thank you to the best betas I could ask for: @internetjunkdrawer and @deepseavibez. I appreciate every insight, comment, and suggestion that you've given in every draft. For swooning and thirsting over this Jungkook. It might be a while before I get over him, TBH. This fic wouldn't have been possible without your encouragement and constant words of affirmation while I agonized over storylines, suffered through several instances of writer's block. I love you both--most especially, you, @internetjunkdrawer. I have you to thank for one of the more significant quotes here--it was deep and I'm so happy that I saved it in my drafts somewhere and found a great spot for it 😅 Thank you for always saving me from my worst impulses 🤣 and keeping me in check.😘

To all of you who have stuck around 'til the end (or waiting to binge this), thank you for the reblogs, comments, asks--you've all given me life!!!💜

Lastly, for Queen Bey--for coming out with such a bomb album that pushed me to finish this. It's that Virgo energy!!! Everything just lined up...

And with that, I'll shut up and let you get right to it. It's wine o'clock!!!🍷

A week after your lunch with Jungkook, you both found the time to meet for dinner at the barbecue spot that you’d been texting him about.

You showed up 15 minutes earlier than the agreed-upon time. You were feeling more relaxed than the last time you saw each other. If anything, you were really excited about tonight.

You took a menu from the host and sat in the waiting area to peruse it–even though you’d practically memorized it from cover to cover when you reviewed it online, in the days leading up to this. You’d already made up your mind about which meats and sides you would get. You were only trying to distract yourself because you were fidgety.

Did you actually think you were more relaxed this time? That’s what you kept telling yourself.

The pitter-patter against the window had you looking out to find the rain pouring. You had the obsessive habit of checking the weather every morning to ensure that you were dressed appropriately. 

Glancing down at your knee-high boots, you breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to the menu. 

You were so caught up with the surroundings, and in trying to distract yourself, you barely heard the door of the restaurant open.

‘’Hey.”

Your eyes flick up at a soaked Jungkook. He sounded out of breath like he had been making a futile attempt at running away from the rain. At least he had a jacket on, you thought.

“Oh no!” Your stomach knotted slightly in concern.

He stood by the entryway shaking the excess water off his hair before brushing it away from his face.

Your stomach was still knotted…but for a completely different reason this time.

“Shit, sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said wearily.

“Not at all. I got here early because I wasn’t sure how the parking situation would be.” You stood up to try to give him a hug but he quickly put his hands in front of him to stop you. “A-are you sure? I look like a wet dog,” he chuckled.

You wave him off. “It’s just water,” you say and hug him anyway.

“How’ve you been?” He asks after you pull away.

“Good. You?”

“Better now.” His response makes you smile involuntarily. “Uhm–shall we get a table? Maybe the grill can warm you up?”

He laughs while you check in with the hostess, who guides you to an open table. You quickly ask if you could borrow a couple of clean dish towels so that he could dry himself, to which the host agrees to bring it back around.

He gave you a puzzled look. “What? I didn’t want you to get sick,” you say casually.

“Thank you,” he said quietly while you smiled at each other.

******

“Oh shit, turns out we did order too much pork,” he grins embarrassingly while you laugh after the server drops your platters off: pork belly, garlic pork belly, spicy pork belly, miso pork belly, galbi, bulgogi, gyeranjjim, and an assortment of banchan.

“I mean…the server warned us that there was going to be a lot of food. You’re the one who sounded like you hadn’t eaten in days.”

“I had a long shift,” he said in between laughs. “Besides, between you and me, I think we can finish this.”

You scoffed at him. “Excuse me? What do you take me for?”

“Ah, c’mon. You’ve got a healthy appetite.” He’s seen you polish off a plate of bacon and eggs and enjoy a good dessert or two.

“I’m not saying that in a bad way because I think it’s great. It means you appreciate good food.” You smile while you watch him adjust the flame on your grill.

You both grab your tongs and start loading up the grill with slices of meat.

“Is this weird for you?”

Your eyebrows flick up at his question. “What is?”

“Being out here with me?” He clarifies.

“Why would you think it would be weird? Didn’t we plan on getting galbi anyway?” You say with slight amusement.

He snorts. “Yeah…but, that was before…you know…” he trailed off while he proceeded to put more slices of beef on the grill.

You and Jungkook hadn’t revisited any of the events that had occurred. That was all in the past anyway. You were turning a new leaf. Starting with a clean slate…and all of those other metaphors and idioms synonymous to a fresh start.

“Well…” You gave a thoughtful pause. “Are we any different now from who we were then?”

Now it was his turn to pause, the sound of sizzling meat filling the silence between you two.

“Aside from the location and current circumstances–we’re still the same people, right?” You ask him.

He gave a satisfied nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay so…there’s no reason for weirdness. We’re just–” You thought about what the most appropriate way to describe this outing was. “We’re spending time getting to know each other, right?”

Warmth bloomed within his chest. “Yeah, we are.”

You smiled back at him. He goes on to put some cooked slices on your plate, you mouth your thanks to him. You move the piping hot claypot containing the gyeranjjim towards you and away from him when you notice his elbow hovering a little too close to it.

“Hey–we’re supposed to split that,” he barks.

“Sheesh, relax! I just didn’t want you to get any second-degree burns!”

He chuckles. “I’m just kidding. I knew that. Thanks for looking out,” he says.

You took a sip of your non-alcoholic drink. “I wasn’t sure when you’d get another night off,” you say. Since your last lunch 'date’, you’ve texted and called each other–it was mostly casual but every now and then, they bordered on flirty.

“I didn’t think so, either. I usually work the day shift, then I’m off in the afternoon unless I get asked to stay a little longer or if I’m on-call. I’m sorry it took me a while to find a free evening.”

“No need for apologies. It’s your job. It can be unpredictable.” You smiled at him.

“How ‘bout you? How’s work?”

“Oh, you know. We’re gearing up for a second-quarter campaign so–it just means more stress and headaches that I care to discuss off-site,” you bemoaned, giving him a tight smile.

“Ah,” he twists his lips. “I won’t mention work again for the rest of this dinner,” he laughed.

You laughed in return. “Why don’t you talk to me about your work instead? Any interesting patients or cases recently?”

“Oh! Well, since you asked…” He goes on to talk about one of his cases, sparing you from any potentially gory details.

He’s enthusiastic and animated about it all. You listened intently, throwing in an occasional question or sympathetic comment, especially when he veers into the topic of which specialty he wanted to go into.

“I’m choosing between internal medicine or pathology. Mayumi said I should do both since I seem to have a knack for either one… or at least lean towards subspecialties that overlap,” he chuckled. 

“It’s nice that your friend is really supportive.”

He lifts a shoulder. “She’s also worked her way up like me. She knows the struggle. At least her fiance’s been very supportive.”

“Sounds like he’s a keeper.”

“Yeah, they’ve been together a while. She’s trying to figure out how to plan a wedding around our residency.”

“That must be difficult…trying to balance a relationship and work?”

He stilled, his gaze, perceptive and assessing. “If they figured out a way to do it, I think that we can, too,” he says softly.

You feel a flutter within your chest. You weren’t even alluding to your relationship. You hadn’t brought it up in any of your recent communications since you were afraid that it might be too soon…and you didn’t want to seem ‘presumptuous.’ But it seems like he’d decided to open that door. “You think you’d be able to fit me in? With everything that you have going on?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know…being a doctor is challenging and I’m sure it takes up a lot of your time.”

“That’s true. But I’ve always thought that if you want something bad enough, you’ll find ways to achieve it and work even harder to hang on to it.”

He stared at you softly, filled with a sudden tenderness that made your throat tight. You absorbed his words, struggling to find the right response.

“I’m happy we’re doing this,” you say softly.

“Me, too,” he smiles.

******

It was quite the feat–several empty plates later. You already knew that you needed to run a few extra laps around your building to work all that food off.

By the end of dinner, you had to be slick about settling the bill since he got lunch last time. He was upset when he found out that you went behind his back. He looked so adorable with his little pout when he said that he was only joking when he told you to get the next meal.

“Sorry! You snooze, you lose,” you laughed while you walked out of the restaurant. He offers to walk you to your car. “At least it stopped raining,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.” He digs his hands into his pockets. “So–when can I see you again?”

You paused, mentally running through your calendar. You had a big campaign that you were gearing up for—the one that you refused to think about during dinner. You might have to put in extra hours for those…including some nights and weekends. Even though you’d rather spend that time with him, you had other commitments.

With a slight grimace, you answer, “Can I get back to you on that? It’s just…work has been a little hectic so I can’t tell off the top—“

“Don’t worry. I understand.”

“Sorry, I just—“

“What did I say about apologizing?”

Your lips curved into a smile. “I just don’t want you to think that I’m not making time for you.”

Truthfully, you were afraid of losing momentum. Last time, you both had full access to each other—but that was in a bubble. You weren’t in it now. And just as things were falling into place… real life had to get in the way.

“I feel like things were easier when we were back at the beach.” 

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Your comment was meant to be nostalgic. Both of you could get to each other with ease. You were more accessible.

You turn to face him right when you arrive at your parking spot.

You sighed briefly. “I just meant–that we didn’t have to contend with different schedules and work our plans around that.”

He nodded, understanding where you were coming from before he smiled winningly at you. “That’s the thrill of it, right? We get to miss each other more.” 

You smiled, wrinkling your nose. “Well…when you put it that way.”

“So, we’ll just call each other and…figure something out?”

“I guess so,” you answer.

He shifts in his position and takes a step closer. “So…this is goodbye for now?”

“‘Goodbye’ sounds so final. Can we just settle for ‘goodnight’?”

You see a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Alright. Do I…get a ‘goodnight hug’?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “We hugged earlier so–that’s fine.”

He laughs. “I’m just checking!” He says innocently.

His arms wrapped carefully around your waist and you snuggle into his hold. “Well, this is a weird hug,” you point out.

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “Well, yeah–because I wanted to get close enough to kiss you.”

You chuckle softly before he cups your face, tilting your head to the angle he wanted, and pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss that left you breathless and stars dancing in front of your eyes.

Pulling away, he took a couple steps backward. “Call me when you get home?”

You nod wordlessly, while you watch him walk away with that familiar confident, sexy stride that turns heads.

******

A week later, although he had work to keep him busy, he couldn’t help but fight the urge to bother YN about when they would see each other again.

They maintained communication but it was always ‘safe’ in a way where they kept it casual instead of obligating the other to set aside time in their day to make contact. She responded when she wasn’t in and out of meetings or conference calls. He texted back when he wasn’t making his rounds, completing patient post-op notes, or sleeping.

Jungkook felt miserable and useless. He missed her terribly. But he didn’t want to come on too strong for fear of scaring her off so he was treading lightly. Things are different now. They weren’t under contract or any time constraints. Relationships like these took time, just as Mayumi had told him and he had to accept that.

Feeling lost after one of his shifts, Jungkook sat in his car before driving home. He dials a number on his cell, hoping that the person would pick up on the other end.

“Hey…sorry to call you like this…No, no–I’m good. I just–needed someone to talk to. Would you mind if I stopped by?…Alright, cool, thanks. I should be there in 15 minutes…Great. See you soon.”

******

He parked his car in the lot at his destination and proceeded to walk up the front doors. Most of the lights were shut off and the ‘closed’ sign was turned over. He knocks loudly a couple of times until he grabs the attention of the person sitting by the bar with his laptop.

The man slid off the barstool to unlock the door and let him in.

“Jungkookie! Good to see you,” he smiled at him, giving him a quick hug.

“Sorry to just drop in like this, Jin-hyung.”

“Not at all. I was just looking through our end-of-week sales for the restaurant.” Jin gestures at an empty bar stool next to him, prompting Jungkook to take a seat.

“Want anything to drink?”

Jungkook declines. “I’m good, thanks, hyung. I’m driving and I still have work tomorrow.”

Jin laughed. “Alright, Dr. Jeon. I hear ya.” He took a sip of his red wine before getting down to business. “So–what can I do for you?”

Jungkook sighs heavily. “I have…this client. Ex-client now,” he quickly corrects.

Jin hummed, signaling that he was listening. He was no stranger to client stories. He was always there to offer a sympathetic ear. And even though Jungkook didn’t work for him anymore, his door was always open…especially for someone whom he considered as a younger brother.

“We had this…I don’t know…” He pursed his lips and made wide, slow gestures with his hands, trying to find the appropriate adjective for it, “…Intense chemistry while we were under contract. It started off very business-like and I tried to keep it that way but then…I started to like her…enough to pursue a relationship with her,” he finishes.

“Okay. Did you propose to see her outside of your arrangement?”

“Yes.”

“And did she turn you down?” It was sort of an unspoken rule that an escort should not date their client outside the arrangement. Developing feelings towards them or vice versa was also discouraged. Once there was a hint of emotional attachment, the arrangement had to be severed immediately. It was just bad for business.

But since Jungkook was decidedly moving away from the service permanently, he could very well do what he wanted, outside the confines of the contract.

He decides to spare Jin the whole pre-wedding drama since it’s pretty much irrelevant at this point. “Well, no. We’ve gone out a couple times.”

Sensing that Jungkook wasn’t telling him the full story, Jin tries to coax it out of him. “Now I know you didn’t drive all the way out here after working a 12-hour shift just to complain about a couple dates that you both agreed to.”

He exhales deeply and chews at his bottom lip to sort out his thoughts. “I want to see her again and—” Truthfully, after that kiss, he wanted to pull YN back into his car and drive back to his place, which was only a few blocks away. 

“I don’t know if I’m trying too hard to control myself or…” he let out a frustrated sigh, unsure how to verbalize it. “I just don’t want to come off too eager.”

He cleared his throat before explaining further. “You once said that, when we’re with clients, you have to fawn over them…make them feel wanted—because it’s all about them. You want them to have the best experience.”

He chewed at this bottom lip when his thoughts shifted to YN. “I want to do all that for her. I want to cater to her…but…” he paused for a beat, “I don’t want her to think that I see her as another client. How can I let her know that?” When he finishes, he starts to have second thoughts about getting that drink.

He rubbed at his tired eyes and then looked at Jin. “I don’t know what it is, hyung. When I’m with her, it’s like, I have this compulsion to make her want me because that’s what I’m used to doing. I wanted to see her again but then she has work and…I don’t want to be a bother.”

Jin’s eyes shift, allowing for Jungkook’s words to sink in before he offers him any advice. “There’s nothing wrong with using a similar approach. It’s all about intent.” He refocuses his gaze on Jungkook. “What do you hope to achieve at the end of this? Do you want a big tip or do you want to be with her?”

“I want to be with her, of course,” Jungkook answers instantaneously.

“Okay, so show her that you want to be with her. Show her that you want her!”

Jungkook sighed. “I don’t want to overwhelm her, though. I want to do this right, hyung.”

Jin threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Oh man—you’ve got it bad, huh?”

He dips his head, smiling sheepishly.

“Tell me, what’s different about her? What made you decide that she was going to be your last?”

He lifted his head to answer Jin. “It was all a matter of timing, really,” giving him a small smile. “I was feeling exhausted from work and starting to question my decisions. My friend convinced me to take a break; take some time to figure things out. Then…YN’s request came in.”

Jin’s brows knitted. “I recall…because I thought that you had deactivated everything.”

Jungkook’s mouth narrowed into a thin line. “I did. Or…at least I thought I did. I switched phones and…I think something got messed up with the syncing or whatever.” He shrugged, thinking about the day that he finally checked his email and saw the notifications.

“When I got the notification, I even thought, ‘Wouldn’t this be funny if I used this as a test run for a real date?’” He smiled crookedly. “I just wanted to see what it was like since…it had been a while for me.”

Jin snorted. “You doknow that our app is for them to find us, not the other way around, right?”

Jungkook laughed. “I realize how ironic that is, hyung. I didn’t know how to put myself out there. So…when I responded to her, I thought I’d start off by giving her my real name. We had the standard talk and…we were in business.”

“And you took her money?” Jin asked incredulously.

“No!” Jungkook answers emphatically. “I never intended on taking it to begin with. I just wanted to make her think that…which was why I didn’t charge her the full price. I was going to return the whole thing anyway in the end,” he mumbles.

Jin arched a curious eyebrow at that, to which Jungkook nodded at his unspoken query. “I paid the commission out of my own pocket, hyung. I told you that the decision to terminate the date was mutual but…” His fingers started fidgeting, “…In reality, she actually terminated the date.”

As in their existing business code, if both parties agree to terminate the date, the app keeps a percentage of the booking as sort of an ‘inconvenience’ fee. However, if the client terminates the date due to unsatisfactory service, they are entitled to a full refund.

“But she wasn’t just a test run. What I didn’t expect was…feeling all of this. For her. I wasn’t sure at first but after the last time I saw her–I think I knew. And now, I’m starting to question everything that I do or say because I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Aish, Jungkookie,” Jin shook his head, chuckling. “I think you’ve lost your touch!”

“What? No!” Jungkook jerks his head back in disbelief, resenting Jin’s comment. Not to be cocky but at one point, he was the app’s top earner. “I may have been off for a few months but…I’ve done this for a few years! I hardly think that I’m going through this use-it-or-lose-it situation,” he argued.

Humor and teasing danced in Jin’s eyes. “Bro, you’ve been off for close to a year. That’s hardly a few months. And…I’m not making fun of you or anything. I knew that when you decided to give it up that you had gotten all that you could out of this gig. It doesn’t serve you anymore and I get that so–I was surprised  when you told me that you wanted to go for it one last time. I figured, maybe you needed some closure since your last client before this…really affected you.”

When Jungkook got into the business, Jin made it clear to him that he wasn’t locked into any sort of employee contract. None of the other escorts were. As long as they were respectful to clients and turned in a small percentage of their earnings, they were free to come and go as they pleased.

Jin leaned backward, feet propped on the bar stool’s rungs.

“I’ve always said that our business is built on the client’s wish fulfillment.” His expression turns serious. “But…I’m sensing that you have your own wishes that you want fulfilled, too. And something is holding you back. What is it?”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump and he pinches the bridge of his nose, unable to verbalize it. If he did, it would make it more real.

“Is it because you’re afraid of rejection?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted back to his hyung. Whatever instincts he had, he learned to hone them under Jin’s guidance. And right now, Jin was reading him like a book. Rejection was a rare feeling for Jungkook. Being an escort boosted his confidence–it helped him get through those first years of med school. And getting accepted into his first choice for his residency? That did wonders for his ego.

When it came to YN–it was a different ballgame. This wasn’t a controlled environment. There weren’t any set expectations and there were a lot of outside factors that could come into play. 

“Ya! Come on! I thought I raised you to be more confident than this!” Jin jokingly scolds him.

Jungkook laughs, his nose crinkling.

“Okay, on a more serious note, I know that your situation with this woman has changed. But what have I always taught you whenever you have your first encounter with the client?”

Jungkook sighed as if repeating a mantra that he had carried with him through the years. “Ask them about the nature of their request, then be honest and explicit about what’s possible and what the escort’s limitations are.”

“Precisely. Tell me that doesn’t apply to your current problem.”

Jin took another sip of his wine and set his glass down on the bar’s surface. “If you want her, tell her and show her that you want her. There’s nothing wrong with that! The worst thing about this isn’t the fear of rejection–it’s not knowing. Ignorance isn’t always blissful.”

Although he’d already had half a bottle of wine at this point, he couldn’t be soberer while trying to get his point across. “And just like what we say in our business, if neither party isn’t forthright about what they want out of the experience, this won’t be a successful partnership. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Jungkook raked his fingers through his hair. It was a mix of exhaustion and a stark realization. He needed to get over his fear. It was that same feeling that he had before that first cut with a 10-blade. He just had to go for it.

“If you fulfill her needs, then–you get what you need, too.”

“What’s that, hyung?”

Jin gave him a knowing smile. “Her, of course.”

******

It’s been a few days since your last outing with Jungkook. You continued to call and text each other to check-in. Work has been a steady distraction and you were immensely grateful for it. You were afraid to admit that you were missing him a lot.

“So–no word on date number three yet?”

“His job is not a regular nine-to-five,” you tell Cristina. She furrows her brows as she distractedly sips on her glass of wine.

“Okay. Have either of you brought up the topic of dating exclusively?”

You clicked your teeth. “Honestlyyy…” you dragged out, “We haven’t exactly labeled it or said the exact words. But, based on all of our conversations, it doesn’t seem like he’s seeing anyone else.” You reach over the charcuterie board for some chocolate-covered almonds that she had just refilled since they were the first to go.

After some thought, her question began to worry you a little. “But do you think that’s bad? That we haven’t defined whatever this is?”

Cristina twisted her lips sideways and thought for a few seconds. “I don’t think so. You’ve only been out on a couple dates. As long as you’re telling him what you want, how you feel and he does the same–” she lifted a shoulder, “You shouldn’t worry about anything,” she mumbled while chewing on a cracker that had some brie on it.

She let out a sigh to offer another perspective, out of curiosity. “Do you ever think that he’s the type who gets everything he wants easily? I haven’t met the guy but I get the feeling that he’s used to bringing women to their knees. I mean, you guys did sleep together on what, the third or fourth day of your fake-date?”

Then she cleared her throat, suddenly remembering her own ‘boyfriend experience’. “Hmm…but then again, I suppose that’s relatively slow since my guy and I got down the first night.”

You grimaced. “I don’t want to think about it that way, Cris. So far, he hasn’t given me that impression. He’s talked about struggling through med school and even now, while he’s doing his residency. I mean…if he wanted things to just drop on his lap then he would have stuck to being an escort.”

You didn’t mean to come off defensive but you knew in your heart that Jungkook was different. He might have gotten things easily at some point in his life but based on what he’s told you before, there were also parts of his life that were far from easy.

She rested a hand on yours and gave you a compassionate look. “Babe, please don’t take my questions the wrong way. I love all this for you. Shit, I’m very happy that you’re finally putting yourself out there again after everything,” she sighed, “I love you and I’m only looking out for you.”

Cristina’s concerns were warranted. She’s seen through your post-Haru phase almost in its entirety. Although she was the last person to tell you what to do with your life, she would be the first to call ‘bullshit’ once she got a whiff of it.

You squeezed her hand in return. “Thanks, babe. I appreciate you. I’ll admit, I do feel a bit of pressure to keep things going but, I can’t control his schedule and I have my own life to keep up.”

In therapy, you’d learned to let go of things that were out of your control. It helped ease your anxiety on some days.

“I mean–if he’s not pressed, then you should just let the relationship grow naturally. You guys are vibing and communication seems to be steady so…”

You hummed. 

“Do you like him?” She asks you outright.

“I do,” you answer softly. “I just think that my problem is, I have expectations. I can’t…help them.” You dismiss your thoughts and tilt your glass up to down the rest of your drink. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just rushing the process.” 

You stare at the empty glass for a bit, wondering if you wanted to pour yourself another.

“Is it because you guys just fell so quickly for each other back when you were faking it that–it feels weird for you that you’re both taking it slow now that you’re back in the real world?”

“I’m not opposed to taking it slow. I mean, we kissed last time we saw each other.” You also couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for not inviting him back to your place for a nightcap…or, at least to dry off the rest of his clothes. You sighed, finally grabbing the bottle, and pouring yourself another glass.

“Are you sure you weren’t just into the whole idea of him being an escort? You know–like a fetish?”

You almost choke on your drink, widening your eyes at her. “Oh my god, no! No, that’s not what it is,” you say vehemently. “Just like your guy, we also had some deep, personal conversations. Even though I brought him there as a ruse, those conversations were real to me. I’ve never…” you blinked slowly, “I’ve never really talked to anyone about my real dad. Not even Haru.”

Cristina winces at the sound of he-who-shall-not-be-named but she knew that opening up about your dad was a huge deal for you. Not to mention the years of therapy that got you to that point.

“He’s had an idea of my insecurities and…all of these other things that make me question myself.” You paused, trying to come to some sort of conclusion. ”Even though whatever this is isn’t quite defined, the way I feel about him is clear.”

She stared at you pensively while you awaited her response. “I think that you two should really sit down and talk this through. If you would like to get into a relationship with him, then I think that you should tell him just that–exactly what you’re telling me. That’s your language. You need words of affirmation. You need to hear it said out loud because it helps you move along.”

You move your glass in small, circular motions and absently watch the liquid swirl in it.

“Maybe his language is more action-based…or physical.” You thought back to when you and Jungkook were together. He was awfully touchy then and he was also happy to do things for you. You remembered how happy he was when you ordered coffee to be brought up to the room at one point.

“It sounds like you’re somewhat on the same page, though.”

With that, you take a huge gulp of wine. You never thought of it that way but it made sense. You had to make a move. Enough of this waiting around to find out.

******

After your talk with Cristina, you thought about how you’d give Jungkook that little nudge to hint that you were serious about him and wanted to take things further. Apart from texting back and forth about your days, you hadn’t really said anything explicitly indicating that you felt a little more what you were letting on on the surface.

You sighed and picked up your phone. You thought about his most recent message this afternoon. He mentioned that he was on-call tonight. Normally, if he was on-call and it was a relatively slow night, you would text back and forth or talk on the phone until you had to tell him that you had to sign off for the evening.

Since he hadn’t texted you since this afternoon, you figured it might have been a busy night.

As your finger hovered on the keypad, you thought about what you could say that meant a little more than, ‘how’s your night going?’ You started typing.

[You] (11:15PM): I miss you.

And you meant it. After sending, you sink into your covers in your sleep clothes. They weren’t your usual silky pajama set but it’s been your standby since getting back from your trip–a pair of boyshorts underneath an oversized t-shirt that didn’t belong to you. You happened to discover it mixed in with the rest of your laundry that you brought back.

It’s gone through a few washes since then but you could swear that traces of him still lingered in it. You shut off your nightlight and close your eyes. You weren’t expecting a response from him until the next morning.

 ******

And then your phone rings. You blindly feel for it on your nightstand and hold it up to check the caller ID. It was Jungkook. You barely register that it was just past 2AM.

“Hi,” you croaked out.

“Hey. Sorry I woke you.”

“It’s…alright,” you say drowsily. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Tonight’s been crazy–and then I realized it was a full moon.”

You chuckled softly. “Are you done for the night?”

“Not yet but, I just finally got my break.”

“And you thought about giving me a call?”

He laughs softly on the other end. “Well…this might be surprising to you but I was actually thinking about you right before I saw your text.”

“Y-you were?”

“Yeah. I think about you a lot, you know.”

You smile languidly into the phone and stretch out on your bed. “Do you now?”

“Uh huh. I especially think a lot about that time you tied my tie.” His voice was lower now, raspier.

You stilled, gasping softly. “Uh huh…” you say in anticipation.

“And then…I bent you over that dresser. Remember that?”

You inhaled sharply. You were wide awake now. “Y-yes.”

He hummed in pleasure. “I’m not usually one for quickies but that’s always going to be at the top of my list.”

You bit your lip. “It was good,” you say. Before you continue, you vaguely remember that he was still at work but it sounded eerily quiet on the other end. “Where are you? In a supply closet or something?”

“In the on-call room,” he laughed. “It’s just me. I’m supposed to be sleeping but…I couldn’t get my mind off you.”

“So you decided to call me at two in the morning to tell me that you were thinking about the time that you bent me over a dresser?” Your tone was teasing.

“Well…it wasn’t just that.”

“Oh, did you have other thoughts?”

“I have plenty of thoughts…especially when it comes to you.”

The way he said your name sent shivers down your spine. You involuntarily press your thighs together.

“Shall I tell you about some of them?”

“Mm hmm.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes, please tell me.”

“I think about kissing your lips, my mouth moving down to your neck.”

You swallowed audibly. “…on your chest. Sucking on your tits.”

Your free hand moves of its own volition and slides down past your waistband to cup your mound.

“Dragging my lips down your stomach…Me spreading your legs and kissing your inner thighs.”

“Hmm.”

“Can you imagine feeling me there now?”

Your fingers slip between your moistening folds, rubbing while his words drip like honey on the other line. “Hmm…yes, but it’s not the same.” 

“No? Why’s that?”

“You feel much better.”

“Mm…I’m sorry. I guess this will have to do for now, huh?”

“I’m not mad at it.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Mm…your head between my legs.”

“Yes…”

“And your tongue…slowly licking.” You stroke your clit, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. You hear soft, rustling sounds in the background but it doesn’t distract you.

He groaned softly. “I miss the way you taste.”

“Yeah?” You gasped out.

“Mm hmm… As much as I miss the way you feel. Always so wet for me.”

“Hmm yes…” you mewled as you dipped a finger into your cunt.

“Tell me how wet you are now?”

“Hmm…I’m soaked.”

“Shit. What I wouldn’t give just to get the fuck out here in my car and fly over to your place now.”

“But you can’t, though.” You pouted, knowing he’d get in trouble if he didn’t finish his shift.

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I know.”

“Even then, you shouldn’t leave me hanging either.” Your fingers continued to rub circles on your clit.

His deep, sexy laugh made your skin tingle. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d lick every last drop off you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fuck, I’m so hard for you right now. I wish you’d wrap your lips around my cock.”

The thought of his cock in you again sent another charge of electricity through your body. “Mm…I miss your cock. I loved it when it filled me.”

“That’s because you have a greedy cunt.”

Normally, you’d gasp when a man spoke so bluntly like that. Instead, it just made you wetter and hungrier for him.

“Hmm…I do but I know you love it when it milks you dry.”

At that point, you switch your phone to speaker mode and set it on the pillow, right by your ear. You pulled your sleep-shirt above your chest, the cold air making your nipples ache with need. You pinched and pulled on one with one hand while the other continued massaging wider, rhythmic circles on your clit.

“Fuck, yes. I can’t wait to be inside you again.” His breathing matched yours, heavy and stuttered. Every part of your body, tightening as you feel your orgasm cresting.

“Fuck... I’m gonna cum,” you whisper harshly.

“That’s a good girl. I wanna hear you scream my name, baby…”

And just like that, your torso arches away from your mattress, cumming with a low, tortured cry, groaning his name while your walls pulsed from arousal.

He wasn’t far behind when you heard his muffled, drawn-out growls on the other line.

You listened to each other’s ragged breathing for a few seconds when he let out a chuckle. “Shit, give me a couple seconds.” You hear the distant rustling again. You figured he was scrambling to clean himself up before anyone walked in on him. You took the opportunity to wash up as well.

A minute later, he returns. “Sorry–I…don’t know what came over me.” It made you laugh. “Riiight,” you dragged out teasingly while you walked back towards your bed.

His husky laugh tickled your ears. “Uhm…listen, I know it’s super late, and in all seriousness, I’ve been thinking a lot about how things have been going between us. I know we haven’t synced up our schedules and I want to make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? You didn’t do anything wrong,” you say gently while you sink into your bed.

He hummed. “Yeah, but—I really want this to work. So I’ve decided to make that time so we can see each other again.”

Your heart fluttered while you shifted under the sheets, your interest piqued at what he had planned.

“Have you been to L’Atelier?” He asks.

It was a swanky, modern French bistro in the city and was notoriously difficult to get reservations at.

“N-no, I have not.”

“Good. Because I’m taking you there this weekend,” he says simply. It wasn’t a question, he had just decided for you.

“Uhm—are you…sure? I thought you told me that you were scheduled to work this weekend?”

“Yes, but I found somebody who can cover me so I just traded with them,” he says casually as if it was a non-issue.

“So, whatever you have planned, clear them, because I’m taking you on a date. And a really good one, I might add,” he says confidently. “You could also say that it would feel like a trip down memory lane.”

Your jaw falls open slightly, your brain wanting to argue but you’re speechless.

“Anyway, I’ll pick you up at 6 from your place. Wear something nice, okay?”

“Uh…o-okay,” you stammered. This reminded you of when you first met on the plane, when he told you to take a seat, or when he silenced your protests by just uttering your name.

“Good. I can’t wait! Now, I think that orgasm will actually put me to sleep for a few minutes,” he laughs.

“Right, right. I’ll let you go then. Get some rest,” you say to him.

“Good night…or, should I say, good morning?”

You giggled. “Good night, Jungkook.” As you settle back under the covers, you smile contently as traces of whatever worries you had during your conversation with Cristina slowly fade.

******

You groaned, looking at the mirror and turning from one angle to another. He said to ‘dress nice.’ You didn’t have a shortage of nice clothing but Cristina, ever the enabler insisted that you go on a quick shopping trip.

She vetoed each one of your picks–too mumsy, old-fashioned, ‘Babe, you look like you’re taking him to church or something,’ she remarked at one point. ‘Unless your whole goal is to get him on his knees?’

You roll your eyes at the memory. After several fittings, this is what you ended up with–a sapphire-hued bandage dress with a split back at the hem, and lace paneling in front. It was practically lingerie trying to pass off as a dress.

At first, you told her that you didn’t want to come off looking too thirsty–even though let’s be honest, you were.

You text her a selfie once you had your hair and makeup part way done.

[Cris] (5:25PM): Sesssyyyy mama!!! I’d be shocked if he didn’t start begging at the door.

You had to hand it to her, she was pretty confident. Your phone buzzes again with a follow-up text from her.

[Cris] (5:26PM): Hell, I’d do you! 😛

You cackle at her last text before continuing to fuss with your hair and makeup.

At 5:30, on the dot, you hear a knock on your door. You took one last look–smoothed your hair and checked your teeth for any lipstick stains–there were none, thankfully. With an audible exhale, you walked to your front door to greet your date.

“Hey–” Your brain instantly comes to a screeching halt when you open the door.

There he was…dressed in that fucking devil suit. Standing there, all sexy and delicious like it was nobody’s business.

“Shi…wow. You look…mm,” he pursed his lips, raking you in from bottom to top. It was the same look he gave you the day of the bachelor and bachelorette party.

Flashes of your recent naughty phone call came to mind and you were pretty sure he had the same thoughts.

He stepped forward and leaned in to give you a lingering but surprisingly chaste kiss. You had to applaud his self-control because it was clearly a losing battle for you.

“Sorry, I forgot to give you a warning,” you murmured against his mouth. Your tone was teasing when you opened the door wider to invite him in. If he can rock a devil suit, so could you.

He jerked his head sideways quickly then chuckled. “I deserve that. Ready to go soon? I have us down for 6PM but with traffic and all, I’d rather get there early. We can always hang out by the lounge.”

“Sounds good. I just need to grab a couple things to put in my purse then we can go.”

“Sure.”

He looks around your living room while you scurry back into your bedroom to grab a couple of mints, your lipstick, and a compact.

When you walk back out, you find him staring at a few of the photos you had on your hallway table console. He turns when he hears your heels clacking on the floor as you approach him.

“You were a cute kid,” he smiled as he held up a frame of you, Taehyung, Jimin, and Mindi during one summer camping trip.

You smiled warmly. “Thanks. That’s one of my favorite memories.” You look longingly at the photo as well.

“Will you tell me all about it at some point?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I’d be happy to,” you say to him endearingly. “Ready?” With a nod, you grab your jacket before you head downstairs to his car and drive down to the restaurant.

******

By the time you pulled up to L’Atelier, you saw that it had a healthy crowd out front. He slid out of the driver seat and handed his keys to the valet attendant and rounded the front of his car to open the door for you.

You mouthed your thanks and walked hand-in-hand up to check in with the host, who immediately recognized him.

“Is hyung here tonight? He just told me that he’d have a table set aside for me but I wanted to say ‘hi’ and thank him in person.”

“I think I saw him hanging out in the back office earlier this afternoon but I’ll ask a manager to check in,” the host replies. “May I have your phone number so that we can text you when your table is all set?”

Jungkook dictates his number to the host, who keys it into their tablet. “Thanks. We’ll be at the bar whenever the table is ready.”

“Thank you, sir. It shouldn’t take too long.”

With your hands still linked, he guides you toward the equally luxurious cocktail lounge. The walls were a mixture of dark wood and a dark, hunter-green, almost black wallpaper. The ceiling was covered in an ornate, metallic sort of material giving the space an industrial and hedonistic look and feel, which was only softened by the dainty, white floral print on the walls.

The back of the bar was lit with warm lighting, enhancing the different types of liquor that they carried. There was plush seating around the bar and against the walls. Their upholstery complemented the same lush green and dark, woodsy color palette. 

The weekend crowd was lively and you were lucky to find some vacant seating right by the wall. 

“Glass of rosé still good for you or do you want something else?” You smiled and nodded, “Rosé is fine,” you replied, somewhat surprised that he still remembered.

“Do you have a preference?” You shrugged, “La Crema, if they have it. Otherwise, I’m fine with whatever.” With a nod, he walks away and approaches the bar. He motions at the bartender to place your drink orders while you settle in.

As busy as the bar looked, the drinks came quickly. He was about to hand his credit card over but the bartender held up his hand. You could have sworn he mouthed ‘on the house.’ He must be really tight with the owner, you thought. Jungkook smiled, thanked him, and left a tip before he walked over to you.

When he hands you your glass, you hold it up to your nose and take a whiff. It smelled fruitier than what you were used to. He sidles up next to you on the couch before raising his glass to you, silently proposing a toast. You clink your glasses and take a sip. You let out a hum of appreciation and held up the glass against the light.

“The guy said it’s Château Miraval…in case you liked it.”

You chuckled. “I’m usually skeptical about celebrity-hawked alcohol but–I might actually order a case of this,” you say before taking another sip.

He beams, happy that you were pleased.

“You know you didn’t have to do all this,” you say after you both take a sip.

“I know. But I wanted to…for you.” He looked at you intently.

You sensed some hesitation on his part before he decided to switch gears. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I thought that taking our time would help build that trust again. I also didn’t want you to think that I was hovering or anything. I didn’t want you to get tired of me–which is the opposite of what I hoped to achieve.”

He shifted in his seat and set his glass down on the tabletop. He leans in to reach for your hand. “I like you. And I want to spend every free moment that I have with you if I could. I’m not saying it to scare you but that’s how I feel.” He paused, chewing at his bottom lip.

You sucked in a sharp breath but kept your lips pursed.

“I also understand that everyone operates at different speeds. So–however slow or whatever pace you want to take this, I’ll match it. I just didn’t want to go on without telling you how I felt.” He let out a soft sigh as if feeling some weight lifted off him.

You offered him a warm smile, squeezing his hand in return. “I really appreciate that, Jungkook. I want you to know that I’ve also been holding back because I also didn’t want to come off as a stage-five clinger,” you chuckled nervously.

“But—I’m not apprehensive about you. I don’t want you doubting my feelings for you either because–I like you, too,” you chuckled. “And I mean…really like you–which is why I was trying to be cautious.” You scoot in closer, closing the gap between you. “I don’t want to ruin this.”

He shook his head adamantly, brushing away wispy strands from your temple. “No, you wouldn’t.”

Your eyes flick downward for a moment and swallow hard before you make eye contact with him again. “What I feel for you is…so intense that it kind of scares me.”

Worry washed over his face. “Why would that scare you?”

After a beat of hesitation, you decided to come out with it. “Because it also means that it could hurt a lot more.” You whispered, worried at your admission.

His breath catches for a second before he pulls you tightly to his chest. You feel him sigh into your hair. “I would never.”

You pulled back, feeling slightly panicked. “I want you to know that it’s not because I’m comparing you to anybody. I know that you’re different,” you say in a rush. “But sometimes, I just can’t help it.”

You have lingering traces from the past. Even though Haru was long-gone and you were excited about a new relationship in your life, you didn’t want to jinx anything. Things were going well…too well, in fact. You were in a long-term relationship for a while, almost leading to a marriage before all that was ripped from underneath you.

Your experience with Jungkook was quick. The attraction was instantaneous. And although this was the complete opposite of the slow and steady buildup that you had with Haru a long time ago, the stakes were just as high.

Unfortunately, society equates the length of a relationship with the quality of it. Your fears were understandably warranted.

“I just want this to work so badly.”

“I do, too.” He says. “And believe it or not–I’m also scared–probably more than you,” he chuckled wryly. “I’ve been so used to going about dating one way that this is pretty much uncharted territory for me.”

For somebody who seemed to exude confidence and swagger, that came as a shock to you. You didn’t want to think of the other women he’s encountered. Otherwise, you’d fall into a rabbit hole and never find your way back. But you could feel his sincerity…it was the same, calming feeling that you had during your quiet talks at the beach.

“Remember what I said last time–about things being easier when we were back at the beach?”

He nodded softly, prompting you to continue.

You looked him in the eye to get your point across. “I want to make it clear that I didn’t mean that I preferred that experience or that version of you. You know, I see you in this suit and you’re talking about taking a trip down memory lane…”

Worry marred his beautiful face again. Had he made a terrible miscalculation? “I…just assumed maybe you wanted that guy instead.”

You shook your head gently. “I didn’t fall for this,” You gestured at his suit–even though he looked hot as fuck in it. “I fell for the guy who…said he was sensitive to smells; is a self-confessed dork; the one who calmed me down when I was anxious; the one whom I had all of those honest conversations with. I’m not some woman who needs their fantasy fulfilled. I just want you. The real you.”

“I’m real now,” he utters.

You smiled at him. “Can we just–be ‘us’ again? Just…chill and easygoing? I don’t need 'sexy, smoldering Jungkook'.” He threw his head back and laughed out loud while you tried to stifle your own laughs. “Listen–from this point on, can we just, I don’t know, speak freely? Say what we mean and mean what we say?”

He gave a cursory nod, then smiled broadly at you. He tilted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “So you think I’m sexy?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove on his chest while he laughed. Afterward, he lifts your hand, turns it over, and kisses your wrist.

“Okay, okay. But seriously–yes, from now on, we’ll be open to each other.”

Just then, his phone buzzes with a notification from the host, letting you know that your table was ready. 

As soon as you take your seats, Jungkook’s eyes lift and he abruptly stands again to greet whoever was coming up behind you.

“Hyung,” he beamed. You turned in your seat and followed his gaze until it fell upon an equally attractive man, slightly taller than Jungkook. His hair was brushed back and had intense eyes that felt like they were undressing you with one look. He was also sporting a black suit, with a black, silk button-up shirt, sans tie.

Jungkook clasped hands with him and engaged in that standard backslapping and fist-bumping ritual of close male friends.

Your eyes shifted back and forth between the two men. Was this a devil suit face-off or what? Because…wow.

“Hyung, this is YN. YN, this is Jin.”

The man, whom you gather was the owner that Jungkook spoke of, turns to you.

You extended your hand and Jin brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “Very, very, lovely to meet you.” His voice sounded as silky as his shirt looked. “H-hi,” you managed, seemingly flustered. “Thank you for having us,” you said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he replies, smiling at you while your hands were still clasped in his.

“Uh…hyung? Do you mind?” Jungkook bristles.

Jin laughed mischievously and released your hand. Jungkook cleared his throat. “Hyung’s been in the game a while so…he finds it hard to stop.”

Your eyes dart back to Jin, widening in realization. Your mouth falls open, stuttering. “Y-you mean–he’s–”

Jin shrugged his broad shoulders casually, answering your unfinished question. “I don’t go shouting it out from the rooftops, but yes,” he says, before flashing you that same look and smile that Jungkook greeted you with the first time that you met him.

You silently wonder if he knew Cristina’s guy…or if this was him.

Jin peels his eyes away from you and turns to Jungkook once more, switching from an intense stare to a more casual one. “Anyway, I wanted to stop by and say ‘hello,’ make sure that you’re getting quality service,” he grinned.

“It’s been great so far, hyung. Thanks for accommodating us.”

“Good. Well, I’m sorry I can’t stay longer. I’ve got a couple of meetings–the work never stops, you know?” Jin smiled ruefully before turning to you again. “I hope I’ll get to see more of you?”

“I-I hope so?” You mutter shakily before he takes your hand again to place a soft kiss on it, goading Jungkook.

“Alright, bro,” Jin turned to Jungkook. “We should catch up again soon, yeah? Don’t be a stranger.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

When Jin was out of earshot, you turned to Jungkook in curiosity. “You have got to fill me in on what that was all about,” you tell him completely wide-eyed.

He pursed his lips, giving you a look of mock innocence and an almost imperceptible smirk.

After your conversation, it felt as if a cloud had lifted off you. You fell into step with him, perhaps even more synchronically than before.

Just like before, you’d chipped away at each other’s walls, letting each other in again. There would still be some lingering questions, sure–but after your talk, there were considerably fewer. 

******

After your date, he drops you off at home. There happened to be an open spot right by your front step—which was a shocker since street parking in your neighborhood was always shitty.

He rounded the corner and opened the door for you—just as he did at the restaurant. You stood on the curb, facing each other.

“Tonight was really fun,” you say to him.

“It was,” he agrees.

“Easily one of the fanciest restaurants I’ve ever been to,” you giggled. You were more into cheap eats and only went out to nice places at Cristina’s insistence…and only if she was buying. Otherwise, you’d typically order takeout or cooked at home.

“I can bring you to a fancier one on our next date?” He slowly intertwined his fingers with yours and pulled you closer.

You cocked your head to the side and squinted one eye. “How ‘bout we mix it up for the next one?”

His brows rose. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking…dinner, at your place?”

“Mm—takeout?”

You laughed. “No, I’ll cook for you! I can bring all of the ingredients.”

His mouth made an ‘o’ shape. “Alright…” He sounded doubtful and the look on his face didn’t help him either.

You gasped, slightly offended at his skepticism. “I’ll have you know that I am a good cook!”

“Oh, you are?” His hands now settle on either side of your hips. 

“Yes. And I bake, too,” you say confidently. You tilted your chin up and linked your fingers behind his neck.

“Okay…” he says in that low purr that makes your toes curl.

“And I think I have a pretty good idea of what I’ll be making for you.”

“Can you give me a hint?” His face was closer now. You can feel his fingers flexing restlessly on your hips. The pressure and warmth of his touch so close to where you ached for him was a unique brand of torture you were all too happy to subject yourself to.

You bring your face closer, your noses touching. “Hmm…I don’t think so,” you whispered, teasing him in return.

“Will I be able to eat it off you?”

His lips brush yours and you feel his soft breaths against yours. Your fingers toyed with the hair on the back of his neck.

You smirked through his mouth. “That’s the idea.” You nipped at his lower lip. Before you knew it, his mouth took yours. His tongue, tasting you in slow, deep licks.

When you pull away, your teeth sink into your lower lip. That familiar warmth was spreading quickly from your diaphragm, moving straight down between your thighs. 

“Would you–” you paused as your heart started to race. “Would you like to come up?“

He stared at you wide-eyed. He opened his mouth slightly, trying to think of the right thing to say. “Are you...sure?” He asks slowly.

You nodded, pressing your forehead to his. “I’m not ready for this night to end yet.”

You nervously anticipate his response. He chewed at his bottom lip–looking like he was trying to find reason within himself but surprises you instead. “Me neither,” he finally says after a long beat.

******

He was on you in an instant, one hand cupping the back of your head and the other on your ass, his mouth on you in a feverish, ravenous kiss. He wasted no time, tongue licking into your mouth.

You moaned and gripped his waist, pushing onto your toes to deepen the contact. He lifted you, urged your legs around his waist and moved towards the couch. The hem of your skirt hiking up past your thighs in the most indecent way.

He was hard and pressing against your core, urging you to grind into him. You were at the point of no return. The same position you put him in, that first night you slept together. When you held him at the precipice until he practically begged to fuck you.

“God, I want you so bad right now,” you moaned, your hands stroking down his chest.

He pulls away from you briefly, arching an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Show me.”

You were dizzy with lust at the sound of his challenge. The whole night was a lead-up to this moment. Taking his hand, you slid it between you two, lifting your hips slightly to guide it to your wet center.

“For me?”

You nodded and moved your panties to the side so he could have better access. He cupped your slick heat in his hand. His fingers parted you, stroking over your clit, before pushing two digits inside. You continued to grind your hips, aching to feel his cock sink into your tightness, knowing how amazing it would feel–and he craved the constriction.

You unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants to pull him out. You cupped his hefty cock in your palm and stroked, making him groan and curse under his breath. He pauses his assault on your clit to retrieve a condom from his back pocket.

He hands it to you and after taking it, you rip the package with your teeth. Once he was sheathed, you reached back, yanking at the hem of your dress, attempting to pull it up further past your waist. You both giggle when you hear it rip at the seams, but you didn’t give a fuck. Lifting your hips, you hooked a finger under your thong and pulled it aside.

Hovering above him, you stared into his eyes and kissed him briefly. “I trust you,” you whispered to him. With a nod of his chin, you sank on your hips down his length. Your mouths fall open almost at the same time until he bottoms out. You sat still for a few seconds, relishing the feel of him stretching you.

Slowly, you rocked your hips forward, touching your lips to his at the same time until you were locked into a kiss again.

He broke the kiss to move his arm to arch your back. He quickly slides the straps off your dress, pulls the front down, and lifts your bare breast to his mouth. You moaned when you felt him teasing the hardened point with his tongue.

You surged forward, draping your arms over his shoulders. 

Gripping your hips, he supported you, meeting each rhythmic movement of your hips, taking him deeper. You kept your eyes on him as they grew heavy. A rumbling sound filled the space between you.

You clung to the back of the seat and rolled your hips. You could feel him pressing against the deepest part of you. You cried out and ground into him, moving on instinct.

“Yes…yes…fuck…” You gasped, slamming your hips into his, pumping your hips up and down the rigid length of his cock.

Jungkook’s face was harsh with lust, brutally etched with his need. “I’m going to come so hard for you,” he promised darkly. 

His head fell back against the seat, his chest heaving, harsh sounds of pleasure scraping from his throat. His hands released you, clenching into fists against the cushions. He let you fuck him the way you wanted to…the way you needed to.

Arching back, you came with a cry, your entire body shaking, your walls grasping, rippling along his cock. Your rhythm faltered, and your vision blackened. An endless moan poured out of you, the relief made your head spin.

Then, your perspective shifted and you were on your back, Jungkook rising over you. He quickly strips his shirt and bottoms off. In your post-orgasmic haze, you hear a distant sound of material ripping. Your thong never stood a chance.

He wraps his lips around your clit. He sucked and licked. You tensed up while completely surrendering to him.

“Oh my god,” you panted. “Your mouth…”

He spread you wide with his shoulders, tonguing you until you felt that familiar buildup within your core again. Your fingers pulled at his hair, goading him while you quivered around his tongue.

“Please…I need you inside,” you whined pathetically, completely lost in mindless pleasure.

He stops, lifting his head, and places wet kisses on your inner thighs before rising.

His arm hooked beneath your knee to lift it to his shoulder, pinning your other thigh down. He props a leg on the floor for leverage and slid himself back into you, thrusting hard again and again, sinking deep. 

You writhed underneath him, the feel of him so good.

He kept you pinned, using you as you’d used him. Sweat beaded on his brows, his control out the door and replaced by the need to cum. His body pounded into you, driving his cock into your tender core. Your body quivered with the threat of another orgasm.

“Fuck yes…don’t stop,” you moaned, your nails digging into his flexed biceps.

He growled your name and started cumming, his teeth clenched, hips pressed tight against you. The feel of the rhythmic pulsing of him spilling into you makes your walls contract, setting off another orgasm.

“So good,” he groaned, rocking into the spasms of your core.

You strained together, grasping at each other.

He buried his face in your throat and collapsed on top of you. No other sound, except your ragged breaths, fill the room. Your fingers absentmindedly run through his hair. 

Once your pulses steadied, he lifted himself off you. After he discards the condom, he sits down and gingerly pulls you upright, and settles you into the crook of his neck. He lets out a soft, contented sound when you snuggle in.

“That was good,” you tell him, playfully tapping at his chest.

A throaty laugh escapes him. “Thanks, I try.”

You pried yourself from under him and regard him intently. 

“Are you still sure that you want to do this with me?”

“Absolutely,” he answers firmly.

“And you won’t regret anything?”

He shook his head and brushed his thumb gently on your brow. “I don’t regret any of the decisions I’ve made in the past. Because, if I hadn’t done all that, it wouldn’t have led me to you.”

Tears stung your eyes.

“As long as you’re okay accepting my past, my present, and everything else that comes with it.”

“I want all of you. And I won’t accept anything less.” You promised him.

“Good,” he says before he kisses your nose.

You convinced him to stay the night. You showered together, surprisingly managing to keep your hands to yourselves.

You got out first, dried off, and got dressed in your bedroom.

When steps out of the bathroom, he stills when sees what you had on.

“I-is that—mine?” He points to his shirt.

You stifle a guilty grin. “I mean…I thought you gave it to me?“

He scoffs. “I let you borrow it after you passed out on me that time.”

It was getting too difficult to keep a straight face while you tried to argue. “Sorry! I…didn’t think you’d miss it. Plus, it’s all worn out so—why would you still want it back?”

He laughs softly, relenting to you. “Fine. You look better in it anyway.”

You smiled triumphantly as you both got under the covers.

You snuggle up to him again, just as you did on the couch. His arm wrapped securely around you.

“By the way, since we’re being open and all—I have to tell you that…I’m not really much of a cuddler,” he says apologetically.

“Actually, neither am I. I get too hot when I sleep,” you admit.

His chest vibrates against your cheek while he laughs.

“But…if it’s okay with you, can you hold onto me just until I fall asleep?”

He sighed into your hair. “I’ll hold onto you for as long as you want me to.”

You lifted your head, looked up at him lovingly, and gave him a soft peck on his lips before you went back into your nook.

Before you drift off, he asks, “So—can I take you out for coffee tomorrow?”

You laughed. “Make it a full breakfast and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

◤Previous | Epilogue◥  | Main Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

If you loved it and/or curious to learn more, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn't like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜

#bts fan fiction #jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook x reader #bangtanbathhouse #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btscarnivalnet #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fan fiction #jungkook fan fiction #coquet x jjk #coquet jjk

[purplebass]

I just wanted Lila to be silly and play hide and seek with Ren, so I wrote this short fic. It isn't my usual verbose writing because I realized I needed a break from long fics. I am a little burned out because of real life, and I just needed this. I have more light fics like this planned out and I hope to write and post them sooner or later. <3

Read on A03 💜 Words: 1,105 Rating: G

It was a lazy afternoon at the palace, and Lila was sprawled on the velvet sofa in Kell’s bedroom by herself. It was one of those rare times she didn’t have anything to do. At once, her senses became alert. Someone was about to approach the room, but it wasn’t Kell. No. He wouldn’t make all this noise, and would be more gentle with the handle. 

Lila turned her gaze to the door, and she wasn’t surprised to find little princess Ren behind the white wood. 

“Delilah, are you free?” she beamed.

“You shouldn’t be so abrupt,” the nurse chastised the kid, who nodded with understanding. Lila wanted to say she didn’t care, but the old woman prompted the child to greet her properly.

“I apologize for intruding, Delilah,” Ren said. “But are you free?”

Lila sat up, eyed the child with a grin. She was bored out of her mind, and the proposal was interesting. “What do you have in mind, princess?”

“Let’s play hide and seek!” Ren squealed, and Lila couldn’t say no.

The princess enlisted one of her fathers – the other was busy being a king – and her nurse to play with them. Lila shouldn’t have taken this too seriously, but she didn’t want to disappoint the child. This little game was the perfect distraction from the routine of the palace, and she just knew where to hide.

The wine cellar was in the basement, and it was only frequented by the servants. Lila wasn’t a servant, but she liked to visit the place from time to time. 

She glanced at the bottles lined on the shelves, neatly divided by flavor and type. White wine. Red wine. Champagne. Hard liquors. Juice. 

On another day, she would have taken her time to pick a bottle and would have hidden her prize in her trunk before someone would have come and would  have caught her red-handed. No one usually did. But today she was playing with a kid, she wasn’t choosing a bottle of expensive wine she would later share with her partner in the captain’s quarters of the Grey Barron. 

She found the alcove she was looking for, and tucked herself into the shadows. She wasn’t sure Ren would come down there, but she had kept her end of the bargain. 

She put her hands in her pockets. It was starting to get cold in there, and she couldn’t use her magic to summon a small fire. After a while, she glanced at her pocket watch, and realized she had been there for almost an hour. 

Would the kid ever find her? Well, she had tried to play.

She heard steps. Light steps. Then a glint of flame illuminated her face, and she held her breath. 

Someone had found her, but it wasn’t Ren. 

“Lila?” Kell’s soft voice echoed in the darkened cellar.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were with Rhy.”

“Indeed, I was. I’m sorry it took so long –” she put a finger on his mouth to silence him, and he shook his head questioningly. 

“I’m playing hide and seek,” she muttered. “Be quiet.”

“Is this another way to say someone is looking for you? What did you do?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m playing with the princess.”

“Ah,” he frowned.

“Yes, ah,” she sighed. “I just love people coming after me, but not all of them are enemies.”

“You’re supposed to hide where she can find you. I doubt she’d come here.”

“Perhaps that’s why I hid here,” she shrugged. “And I’m quite good at hiding.”

“But I still found you,” he raised an eyebrow knowingly, and she felt giddy. He just knew her ways, just she knew his. “You shouldn’t be too sure of yourself.”

“You only found me because Rhy wanted you to choose a bottle of wine for dinner.”

He sighed. “And I still have to find the one I wanted. Care to help? I know you know how to pick good wine.”

She raised her eyebrows and glanced at her pocket watch. She’d been there for an hour, she doubted Ren would find her by now. Maybe she had stopped searching altogether. 

“Fine, I’ll help you,” she walked towards the back, when she knew Rhy and Alucard kept the good stuff, and picked a bottle with a golden label. “Here, this,” she grinned.

Kell took the bottle and looked at it skeptically, then he nodded. “Yes, this is okay,” he agreed. 

“How did you find me?” she asked curiously. 

“Your smell,” he whispered. 

She scrunched her nose at him and smelled her clothes. “Do I still smell like smoke?”

Kell put a hand on her forearm and leaned in, brushing his nose on the side of her neck. She felt his warm breath on her skin, and she tried not to lose her balance when he inhaled her scent. She was sure she smelled fine, but he still took his time perusing her jugular. He planted kisses over there until he found her lips, and she forgot where she was. 

By this point, she had probably won the game. She deserved a victory kiss.

“I found you, Delilah!” 

Ren’s voice made them jump, because none of them expected the child to appear out of nowhere, in the wine cellar of all places. 

Kell lost his hold on the bottle of red, and it fell on the stone floor and shattered. 

“I told you to wait until they would separate,” the nurse reprimanded the child, who was smiling despite herself. She looked apologetic, at least. 

“Are you hurt, princess?” Lila asked with concern. Rest in peace, good wine.

Ren shook her head. “I’m not hurt, Delilah,” she said. “And I am a winner! You were the last one I had to find.”

Lila sighed. “How did you wind up here?”

“Thanks to my papa,” she explained with a grin. “I saw uncle Kell leave papa’s study, and I wanted to follow him because maybe he knew where you were hiding,” Ren said. “But he walked away too fast so it was papa who told me to come here, because he said you like to practice magic in the wine cellar. And you like to make bottles disappear.”

“Ah,” she pretended to be surprised. She exchanged a look of understanding with Kell. He managed a grin. “Well, then. Tell your daddy Rhy that I’m not going to stop making bottles disappear in the wine cellar anytime soon.”

“Will you show me, Delilah?” the child asked, hung on her every word.

“Perhaps, when you are older,” she smirked. Kell just shrugged and rolled his eyes. 

#kell maresh #lila bard #delilah bard #kellila #adsom #kell x lila #a darker shade of magic #a gathering of shadows #a conjuring of light #threads of power #the fragile threads of power #tftop

[annahxredaxted]

Love is gone..

Characters: Freelancer/ Gavin- Gavin/lasko

Tw: cheating, yelling, cursing, mentions of NSFW.

@badwolf52 freelancer angst?

I was driving home from school when this sinking feeling came to my stomach. I thought I might have been nerves or something like that but I guess not.

I felt disgusting, and the thing is I don’t even know why- I haven’t eaten in a while, yeah that’s probably it, I’ll eat something. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself I just needed to eat I couldn’t be settled on that answer alone. ‘What was wrong?’

I pulled up to maxes rustic pizza and sat in the car for a second. I needed to breathe. It will all be better if I just breathe…right?

5 minutes go by and I’m still in my car, I eventually get my wallet from the glove box- you sigh a picture of Gavin in it- I start to smile, It was a picture of us on our third date, smiling and giddy, gav, as handsome as ever

‘I really love him’ I thought to myself rethinking all of the time we’ve spent together

————————————————————-

“Hi welcome to maxes rustic pizza! What can I get you this fine day?” The Guy behind the counter asked. I wanted to get Gavin something as well though,

“Excuse me one minute I just need to text my boyfriend, so sorry.” He nodded with a smile and I pulled out my phone

I got distracted again, my lockscreen was Gavin. He was so cute I mused for a second-

I snapped back to reality. I clicked the text app icon and went to my pinned contacts first one there- Gavin💜

Freelancer: hey gav. I’m at maxes is there anything specific you want?

^ delivered

Why wasn’t he answering? That’s weird. Maybe he’s sleeping right? Okaayy but it’s Gavin. He wouldn’t go to bed by himself- unless he’s really tired, yeah that’s it he’s tired.

“Excuse me? Are you ready to order?” I was back from my long train of thought. “Oh right uhm, can I get, a small Hawaiian pizza?” I said as he punched some words into his register.

“That’ll be 7.89$” i reached into my wallet scrounging around to find my card, when allas I found it!

I handed him my card, there was an awkward two seconds while he was swiping my card, and it was registering.

“If you don’t mind going over into the waiting area?”

I nodded and walked over to the area that had a big sign that said,

‘WAITING’

I decided to try my luck with lasko. Maybe he’ll want to come over for dinner

Freelancer: hey lasko, are you busy tonight?

^ delivered

Why the fuck were neither of them answering?

That feeling was back. Were they okay?

“Order for (freelancer)?” The guy behind the counter yelled,I got up and quickly grabbed the pizza, said thank you and left.

I got in my car, gently placing the box of pizza on the passenger seat. I tightly gripped the wheel. Once again my stomach was turning every which way. It didn’t matter right now I’ll just drive home and everything will be just fine.

The drive home was awful. I kept adjusting my seat, I got cut off, honked at, flipped off, my phone wouldn’t even connect to Bluetooth/Aux.

it’ll all be better once I get home.

I pulled up to the house and there laskos car was. In my parking spot. That means I have to park on the side of the road and lasko and Gavin were ignoring me or something.

I walked past the windows all the lights were off. We’re they watching a movie? I scrounged through my bag to find my house key, when I finally found it.

I walked inside to see clothes scattered on the floor. As if they had been thrown carelessly. I took one whiff of the air and the stench of burning liquor was vivid.

I walked into the kitchen to set the pizza down to see three empty beer bottles and two unopened bottles

‘What is going on?’ I thought too myself. I reluctantly placed the pizza on the counter, and walked toward the hallway.

“Gav? Lasko?” I said in a assertive tone.

I heard a very faint

“shit.”

“You guys in there?” I said knocking on the bedroom door once and then opening it

The second I opened the door my heart sank. There Gavin, shirtless, no less and lasko was shirtless both rushing frantically to put their clothes on.

That hurt, the person I dedicated three years too, the person, who’s seen my vulnerability, my tears, my pain, my sadness, and happiness, everything, and he just threw it way like it was nothing..

Gavin looked guiltily at me, as if he was trying to say sorry with his eyes, didn’t work but he tried

“Deviant-“ he started, I didn’t want to hear any of “n-no Gavin, I don’t want to hear it.” I said not making eye contact, and ran out of the roon

“Freelancer wait!” Lasko yelled from the other room as I walked back to the kitchen to find my keys

A few silent tears fell from my eyes, making it blurry and hard to see anything, I just wanted to go, I want to leave, and never talk to him- or lasko ever again... Gavin grabbed my hand.

“Deviant,” I cut him off again

“That’s not my name.” I said quietly

“What?” He dropped my hand

“I said, that’s not my Fucking name.” I said about to explode, anger, Fury, and rage, but also pain, sadness, and confusion ‘am I not enough?’ I painfully thought to myself

Lasko ran out of the room with a shirt on buttons sloppily done hair frizzy, sweating, and flushed.

“I- I can’t believe you would, do this Gavin, what did I ever do to you!” I said crying, anger spilling out, I couldn’t hold it in anymore

“(Freelancer) I’m so sorry my love. I- was,”

“I told you to call me by my name. Don’t call me ‘my love’ . Because this,” I pointed at him and lasko ,” is not love. Not for me anyway.”

“Please give me another chance. We- we were drinking, next thing you know,” I stopped him a finger sharply pointed up signaling him to not talk anymore

“I don’t want to know what happened next. I already do.”

Lasko tried to say something but I shut him up

“Fuck off lasko. You too Gavin. We’re- we’re done.” I said that last part with that confidence I never had. Or never thought I could have, anyway.

“Freelancer.”

“I loved you, I gave you all I had, I poured my heart out to you, fuck Gavin I do love you. But I can’t do this anymore.” I grabbed my car keys and left, this hellhole- on my way out, Gavin clenched his chest- the emotion overwhelming him, but I don’t care, it’s not my fault.

Part 2? I dunno

@maplecrow and @essbi24 you guys said you wanted it so I thought you should read it first

#redacted asmr #redacted lasko #redacted freelancer #redacted gavin #making this made me cry #I’m sad now

[singsweetmelodies]

Hii love, me again (😘 fic anon) ,

So I finally managed to read the new chapter after i got off from work today. And it was worth the wait! You know what, I really forgot that charles got p2 in that race.. tbh I don’t even remember austrian gp😭 that was a stressful weekend for me personally.

Anyway, I’m so happy that you updated. As usual you didn’t miss! My niece kept interrupting me while I read it tho (she’s 2, even tho she’s cute she can be annoying), so I’m going to read it again with no distractions so that I can appreciate ‘those’ scenes more ;)

Again, you did an amazing job.. really really looking forward to seeing more from you ❤️

One more thing I wanted to say, I saw the other anon’s ask and i was like “Oh my god did i sound like this?!! This is so rude..” and the thing that anon’s ask was not nice, neither was mine. I know i said sorry before but it’s still made me feel bad when i saw you had to reply to another one within 2 days.

Fake dating au is a beautiful fic, in fact one of the first piarles fic that I ever read(which made me fall in love with the pair). And I, just like so many others would love to read more of it whenever you update it. But like you said, it’s your fic.. it’s yours to write. I’d be happily waiting to read it if n when you decide to write more chapters.

I’m sorry i ended up writing a long ask again😅i tend to do that sometimes..but yeah.. take care of yourself. Also, all the best with your doctorate 😊

All the love,

T❣️

omg, hiiii, T!! ❤️ it's so nice to hear from you again (and SO nice to put a bit of a name to the face/😘 fic anon identity!)

so first things first: haha, awwww, i am so endeared by that story of your niece 🤭🤭 and i feel you COMPLETELY, hahaha, because my own niece is two and a half now, and she was also actually visiting over the weekend!! so that's a cute coincidence 🥰 but also, lmao, i DEFINITELY get you about "even tho she's cute she can be annoying."

and secondly - 😍😍😍 i am SO glad that you've enjoyed the latest update (niece distractions and all xD) thank you so so much for the support and for your very kind words, i really appreciate it ❤️

as to that other anon... well 🙈 i think what happens a lot is that people send messages with good intentions, but without perhaps thinking it all the way through. and i mean, we all do kinda stupid, crazy things when we're excited and/or a little nervous! it's totally normal. that's why i usually try to be patient when i answer asks like that one, but yeah... that particular anon was very badly timed and especially badly phrased, i feel like. but it's all in the past now, and no hard feelings from my end! the most valuable thing, to me at least, is that you saw and understood my first long answer/explanation, and took it to heart, and that you're now making me smile so much with this ask 🥰💜 i appreciate the kindness and support so very much!

oh my god, and PLEASE don't worry about long asks, ever 😅 i'm the last person who'll ever complain about something like that, because, well, you've seen what my tumblr and especially my tags are like 😆😆 but yeah! this was a super sweet ask and i appreciated each word very very much <3333 ❤️

#asks & answers #anon #lovely anons ❤️ #😘 fic anon #OH MY GOSH AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE WELL-WISHES RE: MY DOCTORATE #it has been kicking my ass a little bit lately; ngl to you; but what would a doctorate be if it didn't do that occasionally; am i right? 😅 #i just wish that didn't come neatly hand in hand with intermittent writer's block... #but oh well. 'it's like this' as charles would say #tomorrow is a new day and a new week! we'll just have to see what it brings #but i'll be smiling about this ask for the rest of tonight at any rate #thank you so so much love <3333

[siancore]

Hello dear,

I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for your loss. I saw your post with all the crossed out text, and I've been there, felt that kind of grief. It's such a heavy burden to bear, especially when you feel like you're alone.

You aren't alone dear. I know we don't know each other irl and we don't even really talk on here, but I care about you. Your content makes me smile. I'm always down to talk or to listen to you vent. I'll sit in that grief with you for as long as you need or want me to because I get how lonely it feels when you've lost someone.

It's okay that you have these feelings. Please don't think I'm trying to invalidate them. I just want you to remember that feelings aren't facts. You can feel survivor's guilt and know that it wasn't your fault. You can feel alone and like no one cares even when it's not true. It's okay to feel these things, but try your best to act on the facts, even when it's so hard to do it.

I'm proud of you for feeling your grief. It's a hard emotion to deal with. I think you're brave for letting yourself experience it instead of burying it. I hope there's comfort in fond memories of your loved one and distraction in your hobbies and love still in your life. I wish you nothing but love and healing.

Take care 💜

Oh, and you don't have to respond to this if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know I care.

Thank you for this. It's actually really thoughtful and helpful.

I've been worried about sitting in my grief, even though I need to, because I'm in quarantine and feeling some cabin fever. Haven't felt the sunshine in a week. My sister, who passed away, was the one who helped me not to feel so trapped and took care of me when I was sick (we lived together). It's been rough to regulate my emotions while feeling like I'm completely alone. I know if I don't regulate my emotions, I'll end up worse off mentally. Feeling physically ill doesn't help the situation.

I am sad and angry, and I blame myself. Survivor's guilt is a motherfucker! It wasn't meant to be like this, and I do blame myself for not being a better sister. For not being more protective. For not pushing her harder to get the help she needed. I'm so sad and angry, and I know I have to feel this way for me to come out the other end of the grief and be okay. I'm just scared that my situation right now, being in quarantine away from other people, and feeling alone, is going to be detrimental to my emotional and mental wellbeing. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge. My art and writing have kept me sane, but I'm so tired and sad and angry and I can't soothe myself because I am trapped in my bedroom, finding it hard to breathe.

I've found comfort in the fact she isn't in pain anymore, and that outweighs my selfishness in wanting her here. Everything just feels odd. It feels wrong and empty. I feel guilty for having to go on without her.

I appreciate you reaching out to me like this. It really does help. Thank you for being so kind and generous with your energy. I know it's not easy to be there for someone when they're hurting and feeling big emotions like anger and sadness, so I really am grateful for your offer to sit with me and talk.

I hope things are feeling okay for you x

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Moving

Thorns & Jasmine

In which more memories surface Breannan would have liked to keep buried.

Warnings: Nightmares, panic, aftermath of torture and some unpleasant healing the previous day, flashbacks to more angst, bad injuries and almost drowning, suicidal thoughts/attempt mention

Please note: There is a version without any references to suicide that can be found here, please be safe 💜

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The night was every bit as restless as Breannan had assumed. Caldyn kept waking up, sometimes screaming, sometimes merely shaking. It never took long for him to fall back asleep, probably due to both his exhaustion and Breannan’s closeness.

When the darkness outside the windows slowly faded, Caldyn awoke, for once not from a nightmare, but slowly. His hand on Breannan’s side twitched as he moved his head.

“Breannan.”

“I’m here,” he said, lightly stroking the back of Caldyn’s neck.

“How late?”

“It’s morning.” A quick glance towards the window confirmed it. “The sun is about to rise.”

Gwyneth would come back soon. Breannan only hoped that his friend would also still be able to trust her, after what she had had to do on the previous day.

“Sorry. Kept you up again.”

Whatever it was that Caldyn had heard on the previous day, it seemed to be gone now, or at least quieter. His words were still strained, but no longer as fragmented, the meaning behind them not as exhausted anymore.

“Don’t worry. I got to sleep yesterday, didn’t I?” Which of course meant he was tired again after spending the whole night awake, but it wasn’t so bad. And today wouldn’t be as horrible as yesterday, so he was sure he’d make it until the evening.

“Let’s get you some water,” he said, trying to keep himself busy and Caldyn distracted. It worked. First he helped his friend sit up again, then he reached for the cup. When Caldyn signaled him that he was done, Breannan filled it again for himself, drinking slowly.

“Breannan? Can we…” Caldyn paused, and Breannan gave him time to find his words. Whatever he’d want, if it was at all possible, he’d make sure to fulfill this wish.

“Can we… move the bed? To the wall?” Caldyn’s left hand brushed over the blanket, spread over soft moss and leaves. “Less… less open.”

“Of course.” Breannan looked around, scanning the room. One wall was fully covered with a grown shelf, one was free. Between the window, the door and other furniture, the other two didn’t have much room in front of them. “I’ll ask Gwyneth to help me with it when she comes. Then I can hold you while she moves the bed.”

It probably wasn’t exactly what the healer was coming here for, but he had no doubt she’d do them that favor. He faintly wondered if she’d be as relieved as he was that Caldyn was getting better. Not just physically. Breannan was so glad to see him get better mentally, to speak, to ask for things. Caldyn was fighting, and he’d be at his side for as long as he would want him there.

“Hey, it’s me,” Gwyneth announced herself a short while later.

“Hello, Gwyneth,” Breannan replied.

She entered the room, not carrying anything today. As she came closer, her gaze wandered over Breannan and her patient, and whatever it was she saw in them, it was enough to put a small smile on her lips.

“Alright,” she said as she settled down. “Let’s get those wounds closed.”

Breannan’s gaze automatically wandered to Caldyn’s chest. He had avoided taking a closer look at it so far, but it was less bad than he had feared. Not that it would be easy to be worse than it had already been; whatever small holes the thorns had left behind vanished between torn bark, and the fresh sap had long crystallized.

“Actually, would you mind helping us with something first?” he asked. When she looked at him questioningly, he gestured to the far wall. “We’d like to move his bed. If you could take it over there while I sit with him?”

“Sure.” She looked from the bed to the wall and back. “Might as well grab a new blanket while I’m on it, right?”

Breannan nodded as he pulled Caldyn closer towards him. Gwyneth walked around, picking up a fresh blanket and pushing the old one aside, so she could reach the bedding beneath it. She moved it over to the wall, eventually placing the fresh blanket on top, tucking it around the moss.

“Think that’s it,” she said, crouching down next to Caldyn and Breannan. “Now how do we get you over there?”

That was a good question; one Breannan hadn’t asked himself before. There was no way Caldyn would be able to walk, not even with their help. Breannan was a good deal taller than his friend, though, and would probably be strong enough to carry him, at least partially.

“I’d say I take your shoulders and carry you, and Gwyneth can make sure your legs are fine. What do you say?”

When Caldyn nodded, Breannan got up without letting go of him. He reached for Caldyn’s shoulders, grabbing him under the arms and pulling him up. Slowly, he half dragged, half carried Caldyn across the room, while Gwyneth made sure his legs weren’t moving any more than necessary. It was only a few steps, but Breannan was glad when he had reached the bed and was able to lower Caldyn down onto it. He tried to be as careful as possible, but he didn’t miss the way Caldyn clenched his teeth as his back touched the bed.

Lying down, Caldyn felt around, his fingers sliding over the blanket until they found the wall. He traced the faint patterns the plants had left behind when single strands had merged into one almost solid surface, years ago. “Thank you,” he said, turning his head, evidently not quite sure where Breannan or Gwyneth were standing.

“Of course,” she said, sitting down next to him. Now that there was a wall on the other side of Caldyn, Breannan would have a harder time staying at his side when she healed him. “How about I take a look at those wounds now?”

Caldyn nodded, but the moment Gwyneth reached for his chest, he flinched back against the wall.

She watched him, her hands hovering over him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I… I know.” Despite his words, he flinched again when she reached for him. This time Gwyneth tried to go on, placing her finger next to one of the spots where she had removed the thorns. She didn’t get to start healing before Caldyn tried to crawl away, shaking visibly.

“Please, please don’t,” he whispered, the same kind of terror behind his words as the night before.

Gwyneth leaned back with a sigh, placing her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry. I know… know it’s you. I can’t…” Caldyn’s voice broke and a few shaky breaths followed, while his hand slid searchingly over the wall. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Breannan said. He understood his friend too well. “She won’t.” He wouldn’t let her. Not unless it was absolutely necessary, and it didn’t seem to be. He knew it would have been slightly easier to heal those wounds while they were fresh, but in the grand scheme of things it probably didn’t matter much.

“I’m not sure where to continue then,” Gwyneth said. “His back, so lying down won’t hurt as much, or his legs, so he can move again and possibly lie on his side.”

“You could ask him,” Breannan pointed out.

“I’m sorry. I’m not very used to my patients being…”

“Awake?” Caldyn asked.

Gwyneth made a quiet, embarrassed noise, confirming affirmation.

“I understand.” He paused, bending his head back and trying to move his leg. He sank back with a pained hiss, taking a moment before he managed to speak again. “Legs. Please.”

Gwyneth nodded and shifted to sit closer to them. “Usually someone else takes over at that point. When they’re… when it’s sure they’ll survive.”

Caldyn flinched as she put her hands near his left knee. “The blue house,” he then said. “I was there?” When she confirmed this as well, he added, “The small room?”

“You know about it?”

“I was invited there… once.” Caldyn’s voice was weak, but steady. “Didn’t go. Left the tree instead.”

“Right. Breannan said you are a healer.” Gwyneth moved his leg, tracing the ripped bark, starting to mend it. “And I can tell that you’re a good one.”

Breannan had quietly listened to the two of them. When they now fell silent, he couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know?”

It had been the wrong thing to ask, he knew it instantly, even if he had no idea what about his question had been wrong. Gwyneth froze, her hand hovering over Caldyn’s leg. She looked from him to Breannan, then at her hand, resting on Caldyn’s thigh.

“His legs. They were broken before,” she said quietly. “Possibly more than… once.”

When she paused, looking at Caldyn for confirmation, he nodded. The silent gesture was worse than anything he could have said. It made Breannan sick. Gwyneth had mentioned before how it was likely that the lost ones had forced his friend to heal himself until he had run out of energy to do so. Thinking about what exactly might have happened was different from bringing up the mere theory, though.

“Was there anything else you managed to heal?” Gwyneth asked, her gaze wandering over Caldyn’s body. “Anything I should check?”

Caldyn was quiet for a while. He raised his left hand, placing it over his left hip, close to his core. “I tried to… to escape. He was… he stabbed me. Here and…” His hand slid off as he tried to move it higher, and he didn’t seem to have the strength to lift it again. “I would have, but… I didn’t… didn’t want to… die. Then I sometimes… sometimes wished I had.” Caldyn’s voice was trembling, pain and fear and hopelessness behind the words.

Breannan scrambled a step back, trying to focus on breathing. He shouldn’t have asked. Of all the memories, this was the last one he could allow to take over. He looked at the window, at the dim light tinted green by endless leaves. He was home, under his parent’s branches, and his friend would be fine, and he was sitting at the shore of a long forgotten lake, his torso, bark crudely stitched together, hurting with every breath.

“But not any more?” Gwyneth asked, and Breannan tried to focus on her voice. Her movements were blurry before his tear-filled eyes as she checked the spots Caldyn had pointed to.

His hands, wrapped tightly in soft leaves, hurt even more. He was thirsty, but there was no way for him to lift the hollow pumpkin filled with water they had left next to him. He could call for them, probably, but with them they would bring those spoken words.

“No. No more.”

Words. Meaningless, terrible words. At least there was a hint of meaning behind them, of compassion and pity and rage. It wasn’t enough to truly understand them. It was still too much like the noises those horrible creatures had made.

Breannan had retreated into the corner of his study room. It was all he could do. He should get out, should run, he was too close to Caldyn. He didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to feel, but there was no way he’d manage to get up, or stop it.

He stared at the water, glistening in the evening sun. If even his people used these sounds now, he’d never escape them. They had tried to teach him the names they had chosen, a single word for each of them. He couldn’t remember them, and he couldn’t repeat them. He didn’t want to.

“Breannan? What’s wrong?”

Someone touched him and he screamed; tried to scream, the noise that left his lips choked and breathless. He couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard he tried. His body was falling apart from the lack of air. It was terrible and familiar, promising numbness behind the panic.

Lish’s hands wrapped around him as she dragged him out of the water. Words and meaning, noise and worry, asking him what had happened. Breannan wasn’t sure what had happened. He had wanted to drink, without calling for anyone, and he had wanted to let the water take away the pain and the voices.

“Breannan? Are you hurt? What happened?”

He coughed, and it hurt in his chest, and they kept talking all around him, and it hurt in his head. He winced every time one of them spoke, the meaning behind the noise not enough to tell him what was going on.

“Gwyneth. Leave him. Please. He needs space.”

“But —”

“Please. Come here. Don’t talk.”

The voices were gone now. There was only the sound of the forest, of wind and rustling leaves and singing birds. Lish was holding him, her hand on his forehead, her hum carrying the promise of safety. The sun was sinking below the horizon, so low already he didn’t have to blink against its light. It was beautiful and quiet.

It was quiet. Quiet enough for Breannan to open his eyes, to see his surroundings. No lake and no sunset, just his study room. And on the far side, Caldyn sitting against the wall, Gwyneth at his side. Breannan met her gaze, so full of unspoken concern.

He couldn’t tell them, couldn’t speak. The words were forgotten. Gwyneth said something, and he couldn’t understand her either. The sound was enough to make him flinch again. Caldyn tapped her shoulder, lowered his head towards her, perhaps saying something. Breannan couldn’t hear it. She nodded, and she got up, and she left.

Breannan didn’t know how long he sat still, trying to calm his breaths. They didn’t hurt, not really, but he felt like they had to. After a while, he realized there was a sound, a low humming noise. It carried something. Meaning.

Come.

He didn’t think as he followed it, making his way across the room towards Caldyn. A hand searched for him, following the sound he had caused as he had settled down. Breannan reached for it, still unable to speak. He didn’t have to. The hand coaxed him to lie down, lying partly on the soft moss of Caldyn’s bed. Another hand found his forehead, stroking it lightly, and the hum returned.

Safe.

It was wrong. It should be him, comforting his friend. But he was so tired, and the memory still dangerously close. As he closed his eyes, he was back at the lake, Lish's hand brushing through his hair as she hummed quietly. He opened his eyes, and it was his friend’s hand, his hum carrying the same worry. He wanted to tell him that he was fine. All the words were gone from his mind.

The hum changed. Rest. The touch stayed the same.

Breannan closed his eyes. The smell of wet sand and seaweed from his memory mixed with the smell of dust and books in his study room. The touch was Lish’s and Caldyn’s and both and none. The meaning behind their hum told him that he was loved and safe. It was quiet. He slept.

Tagging: @villainsvictim​ @dont-touch-my-soup @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @whump-cravings @frenchfries893 @siren-of-agony

#Thorns and Jasmine #whump #fantasy whump #non human whumpee #blind whumpee #drowning tw #painful healing #not sure how to tag the rest #please check the warnings above the cut #shame on me #two hours later because I didn't schedule because of the split #and then forgot over writing :') #oh noooo even 3 hours late :')) #my writing

[xgoddessoffandomsx]

Top Gun: Phoenix

Co-written with @siriuslysteddie 💜💜

Tag squad: @swifteforeverandalways @guzmasjewel93 @axelwolf8109 @imswitchbabemox @the-iridescent-phoenix @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @ylove-bandaesthetics @panlovaticrampaiger2 @mrragersrevenge96

Seth Rollins sighed as he pulled up the bar he’d frequent as a young Air Force trainee, running his hands though his dark brown hair. “Why Roman? Why?” He growled to himself about his hot shot big brother as he entered. “Hey! Phoenix!” Seth smiled at the sight of his protégé Austin Theory.

“Hey Rocket” He messed up the younger man’s hair. “Hey!” Austin laughed.

"There's a new bartender. The boys keep trying their luck."

"Shit" Seth says as he looks toward the bar and catches a glimpse of blue hair and pale skin "They being a bother?" He asks

"Nah" Austin replies "Violet can handle herself"

“Violet?” Seth ran the name through his head. “Thanks honey!” The gothic like woman grabbed a tip. “More military boys huh” She grinned at Seth and Austin, but mostly.

“Yes we are” Austin gripped Seth’s shoulder like his teacher wasn’t ten years his senior.

Violet grinned and rang a bell near her, the bar cheering. “What was that?” Seth laughed, Violet pointing to a sign that said “Harass the staff, military, or put your phone on the bar you will pay a round for the whole house”

“You little shit” Seth noticed Austin kept his in his pocket, being answered with a grin. “I gotta talk to Hangman and Scarlet” Austin left.

“What’s your moniker?” Violet placed a Jack Daniels in front of Seth. “We got Falcon, Rocket, Tank, Dimples”

"Phoenix" Seth says quietly barely loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar. "It's Phoenix" he says showing her the leather cuff on his wrist with the imprint of a orange and red bird in the center.

"How'd you get that one?" Violet asked innocently

Roman and Austin both went quiet.

Seth shook his head "I burned" he says simply and walks away without a backwards glance.

Violet looked confused and guilty. “Next round’s on me!” Roman shouted to distract from the awkwardness

——-

“Hey Phoenix!” Violet caught up to Seth. “How did you runs in heels?” He asked impressively. “Practice, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.

"Its okay just a...soft spot" Seth replies "I'm sorry for just walking away"

"Well at least let me buy you a drink" Violet says "Not on the house. On me" she clarifies

"Let me catch up with Hangman and Scarlett and I'll take you up on that" Seth smiled.

Violet smiled warmly and went back inside, Seth took a breath and followed. Austin had somehow migrated to a piano and was singing.

Seth smiled at that, Austin had a rough upbringing and rarely, if ever, felt comfortable enough to sing in public.

"That song is older then he is" Hangman said laughing as he pulled Seth in for a hug.

"He likes it leave him alone" Scarlett, his wife and co-pilot said with a giggle that even Seth found cute, tho he'd never say so out loud lest she take his ass to the mats again.

“Where’s Dragon?” Seth asked about Austin’s boyfriend. “Sleeping, drills kicked his ass today” Scarlett explained.

“What’s this super mission your mama is on about?” Shotzi “Tank” Blackheart asked

“It’s a secret” Seth smiled knowingly. Shotzi huffed.

Seth joined in on singing with Austin.

"Cute" Violet murmurs as Seth continues to sing grabbing Scarlett for a dance only to get smacked in the head by her.

"Oh? Does someone have a crush already?" The other bartender, a beautiful woman named Mandy teased.

“Shut up, it hasn’t been that long since Finn and I separated, hell the divorce is still not finalized and it’s been two months” Violet hissed and wiped down glasses.

“I know what you mean, how’s Rae-Rae handling the change?”

“As good as a nine year old can, she’s excited for two birthdays and two Christmases”

Mandy laughed. “Sound like a normal ten year old” “Right?!”

Austin finished his singing with a tearful smile. “You alright kid?” Seth put an arm around him

“Just wish I had a dad that cared about me y’know?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Little bit”

“Do not speak of that abusive asshole Austin” Ava pointed at him.

“Ava? You have a twin?” Austin giggled. “Yup he’s drunk” Shotzi laughed. Seth clapped his hands. “Get Austin some water and make sure he’s stable”

“And you stop staring at lil miss gothcore over at the bar” Ava smirked knowingly, pointing at Violet counting receipts

"I wasn't..." Seth tried to protest but stopped when Ava and Hangman both crossed their arms and glared at him 

"OK so maybe I was but I don't do relationships you guys know this, not since..." 

The couple's faces fell and both murmured apologies. 

"She wouldn't want you to be alone for the rest of your life" Ava whispered low enough that only Seth and Adam could hear. 

"Well what if I want to be alone?" Seth said shaking his head. 

“One is the loneliest number” Austin sang as quietly as he was able to in his state.

Seth sighed and looked back at Violet who had grabbed a tray of Mikes and placed it down in front of the Top Gun students.

“It’s on the house, I did make Phoenix here pay for the entire bar” Seth laughed at that. “Thanks”

“Seriously though” Violet grabbed a paper from her shirt (Seth barely kept himself from staring lest he pay for a another round for the entire bar) and wrote something.

“My number, if you aren’t doing teaching things I’m always open to talk”

Seth took it with a smile, ignoring Austin’s smirk.

“I love your hair girl!” Ava beamed. Violet touched a strand and smiled. “Thank you! I did it myself!”

"Seriously? That's awesome" Ava grinned. Mandy returned with Seth's card.

"It"s been declined"

Ava blinked "There's no way. Nix is richer then all of us combined. His momma is an Admiral like her father before her"

Seth swallowed at the numbers. "Is this the entire bar...twice?"

Violet hid a smile as Austin began chanting "Overboard!"

"I'll pay you tomorrow" Seth smiled while Hangman and Austin lifted him up. "I'm counting on it Phoenix" She winked

#rowina writes with shai #top gun phoenix #my writing

[zafirosreverie]

a/n: I’m so sorry! I lost the ask and didn’t remember if you requested them to be already dating or not :c but I hope you still like it

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

You ran as quickly as you could. You needed to get away from the town. As far as you could! You cursed yourself for losing track of the time, you really shouldn’t have been flirting with that damned woman or let her get too close to you.

Well, in your defense, she started it! 

You didn’t know why a witch would be interested in a creature like you. You weren’t human, even if you looked like one, and you knew that she knew it too. Even more, you were sure that, as a witch, she knew exactly what you were, and that only made it all stranger! Everyone knew that witches hated werewolves...in fact, everyone hated werewolves! It was a well known fact that you were the most hated and misunderstood of all mythical creatures.

And yet, she seemed so fascinated by you. Perhaps, that was what made you stay with her for a while. It was so strange that someone showed such desire to be in the company of your race. 

But time flew away and before you noticed it, it was already getting dark, and you knew it was a full moon night. So you apologised and ran away as far as you could, not wanting to put anyone in danger, especially not the beautiful brunette who made you feel welcomed and made you laugh all the time you were together. 

“Stupid little shit!” you thought “you should have known better than to let a cute girl distract you!”

You were too focused on running as fast as you could and trying to contain the transformation (which was already starting, if the pain on your joints was any hint)that you didn’t hear the wind following you. 

________________

Agatha’s heart was racing as she followed you through the forest. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely excited for this. She always found werewolves interesting, despite the stigma that other witches like her mother had about them. And when she found you, such a perfect creature, she couldn’t contain her emotion.

As a witch, she had to know when it would be a full moon night, because some spells only worked in it. So, in her eyes, you two weren’t so different. That’s why she kept you distracted, in hopes the moon would reach you before you noticed and it allowed her to watch you transform. Too bad you were more clever than she thought and you ran away, making her fly so as to not lose you. 

But hey! She had always loved a good race!

________________

By the time you got to a clear place, your hands and feet were already completely covered in hair. It didn't take you long to finish transforming.

You hated it. Your joints were twisting in unnatural ways, you could feel your spine sag, and your bones change in size. It was terribly painful.

And tragically beautiful in the eyes of a witch hidden in the shadows.

For once in her life, Agatha decided not to push her luck and she remained hidden the entire time you were in the clearing. She never once took her eyes off you, and the howl you let out in the moonlight was etched in her memory and her heart.

_________________

You woke up tired, naked and thirsty. It was always exhausting to wake up after a full moon. If turning into a wolf was painful, returning to your human form was 100 times worse. Usually, you ended up so exhausted that you just passed out.

You jumped a little when you heard a branch snap. You were not alone. You didn't have the time or the strength to get to your feet to escape, and a purple smoke kept you in your place, preventing you from falling.

"Watch out, furball" said an amused voice.

You watched in surprise as the witch from the day before approached you with a basket and a cape. Agatha draped the cloak over your shoulders, disappearing the smoke around you.

"What are you doing here?" you asked carefully

"I went out for a walk when I saw a beautiful naked creature and thought I'd come say hi" she smiled, sarcasm evident in her voice.

You frowned but accepted the canteen she offered, you were thirsty after all. And it was very difficult to ignore the delicious smell that came out of the basket.

You sat in silence while the witch prepared what was evidently a picnic. You didn't understand why she would bother to be so nice to you, but you weren't in a position to say anything.

Agatha watched you with fascination as you ate and drank, obviously exhausted. You were adorable and the howl from the night before was still ringing in her head.

"I don't know if someone had told you, but you have a lovely howl" she told you.

You blinked in surprise and almost choked on the bread.

"Excuse me?" you said

"Your howl. It's adorable" she repeated, moving closer to you.

You swallowed when you realized that she must have followed you last night, which meant she had seen you transform. God, what a shame. The brunette enjoyed seeing you nervous and shamelessly ran her thumb over your lips. There was no trace of the elongated fangs that she could see last night, but it didn't matter, she was patient.

"I can't wait for the next full moon" she whispered.

"W-wait" you stuttered "A-are you flirting with me?"

Agatha smirked wickedly.

"Thanks for noticing"

- - - - - - - - -

KH tag: @mochiadria

#x reader #reader insert #imagine #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x y/n #agnes x reader #agatha harkness x you #giveagnesagirlfriendchallenge #giveagathaagirlfriendchallenge #gay for kathryn hahn

[ellewritesfix05]

Coming Home

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Beatrix/Amethyst

Word Count: ~5.5k

Warnings: A little angst, a little fluff, TW: PTSD symptoms (namely: hallucinations, anxiety attack)

A/N: Hello my sweets! This here I have written for @superfanficnatural and @impala-1979 ‘s awesome “Mert and Pala’s Celebration Challenge”! My prompt was Clean/Reincarnation/PTSD. It was definitely one of the biggest challenges for me, took a while but it’s finally done and I truly hope y’all like it! 💜💜💜

📸 cred: to rightful owners

Elle’s Library/Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Library

“So get this, it looks like the Men of Letters kept a file on this witch. Apparently she’s gone by multiple names in the past three hundred years she’s been active, the last one on record is Amethyst.”

Dean continued to wipe down the hood of the Impala, looking over to Sam — who was standing at the entrance of the garage, a binder in hand — every now and then to show he’d been listening. For weeks now they’d been on the trail of a dangerous witch that seemed to be an expert at evasive action. She’d roll up into town, hex a couple men to kill their wives for her, and move on before the brothers could reach her latest victims. Tired of driving from state to state with little to show for their efforts, Sam decided it might be best to go back to the bunker and look for information that the fortress of knowledge may have on such a powerful witch. Luckily, he’d been able to find her file, or rather an entire box of files on her, rather quickly.

“Okay, so we’re looking for a witch with an identity crisis?” Dean set the cleaning tools aside and walked over to his brother. The pair headed inside, side by side as Sam continued to look through the binder.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled, “or a really smart one. She changes her name and probably her whole appearance and most hunters are none the wiser. They could be looking for some brunette witch named Beatrix and run into her having changed to a redhead that goes by Meredith pretending to help.”

“Fucking witches, man. They’re the worst,” Dean sighed as he sat down at one of the tables in the bunker’s library. He opened a different file on the witch in order to help Sam find as much information as possible. Normally he hated research, but when an ancient witch was going on a murder rampage across the country, it seemed like an all hands on deck situation.

They read for hours only finding trivial information, piles of it but none really important enough to help them find her. It wasn’t until they were about to call it a night that Dean came across a picture of a woman that seemed eerily familiar.

Among the pile of reports and book excerpts, the sepia toned photograph had been hiding, barely hanging on to a couple pages with a paper clip. Dean picked up the report and stared at the image, she was beautiful. Long Y/H/C hair flowed down, perfectly framing her face. Her full, inviting lips carefully pulled at the edges, as if she’d been told to hold back her smile. And her eyes… wide, Y/E/C eyes that seemed to sparkle despite the faded tones of the old ink. Yet they also held something in them, an oddly placed apprehension. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d say it was even fear, hidden beneath a hopeful gaze.

“Earth to Dean!” Sam’s snapping in front of his face brought Dean back to reality. He hadn’t realized that his younger brother had been trying to get his attention for a few minutes now.

“Dude, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” was all Dean could muster up. Sam frowned but nodded, he was about to ask what had distracted his brother so much when the older Winchester stood up and walked away, a small file in hand.

Dean couldn’t help but walk away. The picture seemed to have been taken long ago, decades before Dean was even born, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her before. Somewhere out there, not just in a photograph. He reached his room and sat on the edge of the bed, looking through the woman’s file. As his eyes scanned the report in his hands, Dean’s brow furrowed. What he read seemed impossible and yet, if it was part of the Men of Letters archives, chances were that everything written down was true. Minutes after having finished reading the file, Dean grabbed a duffel and packed. He didn’t know why or how, but he knew that he had to find Y/N Y/L/N.

****

“I still don’t understand, what makes you so sure that this Y/N Y/L/N is still alive?” Sam read and re-read the file as he sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. As soon as Dean had explained, he too had thought it highly unusual, even for them, but he didn’t share in Dean’s insistence that this woman, whoever she was, needed to be found. The last entry from the Men of Letters about her was written over one hundred years ago. Who knows if she was still around?

Dean tapped impatiently on the steering wheel, he didn’t know why either but something inside him kept nagging, insisting that he knew her and needed to find her, “I just know, Sammy. I don’t know how but I do. Don’t get me wrong, I know that I sound like a crazy person, but I really think she’s still cursed and alive. Even if the Men of Letters lost her, I have this feeling that she’s still out there.”

Sam sighed but conceded, opening up his laptop to see if he could find any information on the mysterious woman. They reached a small hotel in the middle of Nebraska, as Dean’s eyelids had become too heavy to keep driving. As soon as they checked in, Dean collapsed on the closest bed in the motel room.

“You know, that bluff would work a hell of a lot better if you could stop tapping your foot when you have a good hand.”

Y/N smiled as she laid her cards face down, folding instead of falling for Dean’s ruse to get her to put down even more money. Dean frowned as she did and narrowed his eyes. They’d only been playing for half an hour, how did she already know all of his tricks and tells?

She laughed at his suspecting expression, “sorry, love. I’m not losing all my money to you, even if you are the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Dean couldn’t help but smirk at that, he knew she was attracted to him the second he walked through the swinging doors of the dive bar. Looking up from the game of poker she’d been taking part in, the way she bit her bottom lip and casually flipped her hair had given her away immediately.

“That so?” Dean winked at her, he was definitely getting lucky tonight. Y/N’s smile grew wider as she stood up from her chair and walked up behind Dean.

She leaned down, lips close to his ear and her breath fanning over his skin as she whispered, “that is so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to.”

She placed a quick kiss on his cheek and walked out the door, Dean grabbed the cash from the table and scrambled out of his chair to follow her but was too late. Her car was already pulling out of its parking spot. He barely managed to see her wink at him over her shoulder before she drove away — it wasn’t until he reached for his wallet to put the money he’d won away that he realized why she’d left so quickly. At some point during their short, yet heated, exchange she’d swiped his wallet containing all the money he’d earned at various poker games and pool hustles in the past two weeks.

Dean awoke with a start. It had been so long ago, ages since he’d seen her but it was definitely her. The woman from the picture. He got up and shook Sam awake, ducking down when the tall Winchester pulled a gun from beneath his pillow. They dressed quickly, Sam barely managing to put his jacket on when Dean started honking the horn, eager to get to Colorado. On the drive to the town where he’d met Y/N, Dean filled Sam in on his dream from the previous night.

“And you’re sure that it was the same woman?” Sam asked for the third time.

“Yes, Sam. I’m sure, I knew I’d seen her somewhere before but it’s been so long I forgot about that time,” Dean stepped on the gas pedal, impatiently wishing that they’d reach Colorado faster.

“So you’re saying that the woman who hustled you 12 years ago is the same woman that has apparently been alive for the past 250 years” Sam chuckled, “if this wasn’t so weird I’d actually laugh.”

“Shut up,” Dean sighed exasperated, which actually made Sam laugh.

****

They arrived in the town of Buena Vista much faster than expected, thanks to Dean’s enthusiasm on the gas pedal. Though it seemed like a long shot that Y/N would even still be in the same town, at least they had somewhere to start looking from. They checked in to the local Super 8 before changing into their fed suits, choosing to use fake personas to question the townspeople.

Their search proved much shorter than expected when the manager at the grocery store identified Y/L immediately.

“That’s Helena, at least it was before she went crazy and started calling herself Y/N,” said the man. The brothers looked at each other with furrowed brows.

“Crazy?” Sam prompted.

“Yeah, she used to be a real good kid. I mean, when she was younger she’d get into all kinds of trouble, but who didn’t? Once she turned 25 though she became a real fine lady, part of the church group, did a lot of charity work, and even started the local community center, caring for the townspeople for years. Poor thing lost her mind a few months ago though, started having all these episodes and saying her name was Y/N Y/L/N and she’d been cursed by some witch. We tried helping her but there was only so much we could do. Her parents died a long time ago and she doesn’t really have any family around so we decided to help take care of her but when she almost killed the baker’s daughter in her sleep, the doctors decided it might be best to put her in an institution.”

The brothers were speechless. In the files they’d read about Y/N, the Men of Letters mentioned episodes she would experience but nothing close to what they had just heard. They thanked the man for his help and headed out. Sam looked up the location of the facility where Y/N had been taken and they drove there in a hurry. If the files were anything to go by, they didn’t have long before they lost Y/N.

****

When they arrived at Sunny Meadows, the institution where Y/N had apparently been taken, Dean couldn’t help a shiver running down his spine. Despite its elegant design, the facility seemed like a prison — a cage, decorated with peonies and sunflowers but a cage nonetheless.

The brothers walked in and requested a meeting with the facility director, a Dr. Sanderson. They walked into the well-decorated office where an elderly woman sat at the desk. Her small, rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of a long, slim nose. Deeply etched wrinkles surrounded tiny, beady eyes. With a tight lipped smile that unsettled the brothers right on sight.

“My assistant tells me you’re looking for Helena Roberts?” Dr. Sanderson asked as they sat down across from her.

Sam nodded, “we think she may have some information on a case we’re working on.”

“I see,” Dr. Sanderson leaned back in her chair, her tiny frame nearly swallowed completely by the squeaky clean leather, “I’m sorry to say, agents, but Ms. Roberts isn’t in the best shape to answer any questions at the moment. She doesn’t really know who she is, let alone anything concerning an FBI case.”

Dean, who had remained quiet since they walked into the office, sat up straighter and looked the doctor in the eye, “we understand, doc, but we really need to talk to her.”

Dr. Sanderson looked down and seemed to blush, “very well. If you’ll follow me.”

They walked behind the small-statured woman, along long corridors and past multiple large rooms, all decorated distinctly to differentiate between patients. After a few moments they emerged to the back garden where multiple patients sat around, some looking at the sky, some reading a book, and some admiring the flowers. Before Dr. Sanderson could point her out, Dean spotted Y/N on the far side of the garden, sitting in the middle of what seemed to be a sort of modified devil’s trap made with flower petals. Thanking the director, Sam and Dean walked to where Y/N was.

She sat cross-legged, a large book in front of her as her lips moved in a silent prayer. Engrossed in her ritual, she failed to hear the brothers approaching until Sam cleared his throat to grab her attention.

Stopping her mutters, Y/N looked up and was momentarily blinded by the sun behind them. Once her vision focused, Y/N couldn’t help the smile that curled up her lips.

“Hi, Y/N,” said Dean, crouching down to be at her eye level, “I don’t know if you remember me, I’m-“

“Dean Winchester,” Y/N interrupted, “of course I remember you… you’re still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Sam chuckled incredulously, somehow Dean’s story about meeting this poor woman was true.

Dean laughed, “still am, huh? That’s good to know.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she replied jokingly, “but, what are you doing here?”

Dean sat down across from her, signaling Sam to do the same. He reached into his coat's inner pocket and pulled out the photograph he’d found of her in the bunker, “we’re here because we know what happened to you and we want to help.”

Y/N took the photograph from Dean’s hand, running her fingers down the image that contained so many memories. She looked longingly at the picture, and suddenly realized who Sam and Dean were.

“You’re Men of Letters.”

Sam and Dean looked to each other questioningly.

“We are,” replied Sam, “how did you know?”

“I think you know,” said Y/N, “if you have this picture that means you must’ve read my file. The Men of Letters said they’d write down everything about me to try and help. Three times I found them, and three times they failed. I always died before they could find her, at least until the third time when one of them tried to kidnap me.”

Dean’s expression could not be more confused, “they did what? The file only mentions a curse, something to do with reincarnation but nothing in detail.”

“Well, they got that right, but that’s not the whole story. I only told one of them the full story, at least what I could remember but I ran away afterwards. He said he would help me but only if I agreed to be part of his collection.”

“Collection? What was his name, Y/N?” Sam asked.

“Magnus, but I don’t think that was his real name. After I escaped him the rest of the Men of Letters tried to convince me that he wasn’t really one of them, but I got scared and ran away anyway. I died shortly after and ever since I’ve been too scared to go back… wait, you’re not here to take me to his collection are you?”

Y/N stood up immediately, looking around for a weapon to defend herself with. Dean stood up as well and held his hands up in surrender, “we’re not here to hurt you, sweetheart. We just want to help, I promise.”

Despite only having briefly met him once, Y/N could see nothing but truth in Dean’s apple-green irises. She nodded and sat back down, feeling safer but still choosing to stay in the protection of her trap.

Dean looked down at the modified trap and asked, “what is this? It looks like a devil’s trap.”

“It’s a witch trap,” Sam chimed in, looking at the symbols ‘drawn’ with rose petals, “isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “good eye.”

“A witch trap? We have those?” Dean questioned.

Sam looked up to his brother, “I’ve read about them but the lore mentioned them as more of a theoretical defense, there wasn’t any proof that they actually work.”

“Well, they do. It’s what’s keeping her away from me,” said Y/N.

“Her? As in the witch that cursed you?” Dean sat back down.

“She’s close, I can feel it. She knows it’s almost time to die and she likes to watch.”

Sam frowned, he didn’t want to seem insensitive but the lack of information was becoming more frustrating by the minute, “what’s the curse, Y/N? The Men of Letters only called it “reincarnation curse” but I’ve never read anything like it.”

“Well,” Y/N sighed, “it’s a long story but… basically, a couple centuries ago, before the American Revolution, I was betrothed to an old man, a lord or something, it’s hard to remember properly. My parents were not the best off and he’d taken interest in me. I didn’t want to marry him, though, I was in love with someone else. His name was Michael… most handsome man I’d ever seen.”

She looked off to the distance, trying to remember the man she’d once loved. A cough interrupted her reverie and she smiled nervously, “sorry. To be honest I hardly remember him now, I just remember having that thought. Anyway, we’d planned to elope and run away, almost did except someone else was interested in him as well.”

“She went by the name ‘Beatrix’ at the time,” Y/N continued, “her and Michael’s parents had arranged for the two to marry and when we decided we’d run away she found out. We didn’t know at the time but she turned out to be a witch. On the night we had planned to leave, she caught up to us and went crazy. She ran to his side and whispered something in his ear. Next thing I knew he was coming for me and…”

Faded images began to seep into Y/N’s mind, tears were streaming down her face and Dean reached out to wipe them away with his thumb. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt the need to hold her.

“I’m sorry… it’s just hard, especially since she erased my memories of his image. I’ve only been able to hang on to him through my feelings. She was powerful enough to erase him from my mind but my heart still remembers.”

Sam nodded sympathetically, while Dean moved to her side, wrapping his arms around her.

“It’s okay, darling,” said Dean, “take the time you need.”

She let the tears fall freely for a few moments.

“Thank you,” she sniffled, “god I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.”

“Not at all, like Dean said just take your time.”

Y/N smiled gratefully, “anyway, long story short, he killed me. At least I remember something or someone stabbing me, and just before I died I heard Beatrix laugh and chant some words. It wasn’t until I came back as someone else and started getting my memories back later on that I realized what she did. Every 37 years, like clockwork, I die. Basically, she’s cursed me to live multiple lives. Actually have a life, learn to love, learn to hate, have a proper experience and when it seems to be going my way I get these headaches followed by a flood of memories. Memories of the witch, faded memories of Michael, and mainly memories of the ways every man I’ve ever loved has killed me.”

They all sat in silence, the brothers trying to understand the story they’d just been told. They had seen their fair share of witchcraft but this seemed extreme, even for them. While Sam tried to understand the curse and figure out ways to find the witch and break it, Dean couldn’t help the surge of anger coursing through his veins.

How could someone do that? How could anyone hurt Y/N like that? And for what? Another man? Falling in love? If he thought he hated witches before, it was nothing compared to what he felt now. The seething rage and disgust he felt towards them increased tenfold. Looking down at Y/N, he still didn’t understand the need to protect her or the odd connection he felt to her, but he knew that there was nothing on this earth that would stop him from saving her. Even if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

****

Soon after the sun started to set, Sam and Dean convinced Y/N to leave the facility with them. They’d promised to protect and help her. She’d been apprehensive at first but the moment she looked into Dean’s eyes she knew she could trust him with her life. Breaking her out of the institution was a piece of cake. All they did was pull a fire alarm and get lost in the crowd as the building was evacuated. After a couple hours, they found themselves back in the motel room, sitting at the kitchenette table as Y/N took a shower.

“Anything?” Dean asked Sam, opening yet another beer.

They’d been searching for any witch activity nearby, but so far the search had proved unsuccessful.

“Nothing,” Sam ran a hand through his long, brown locks, “I really don’t think she’s around here.”

“Y/N said she’s around so that means she’s around. Come on, man, we have to save her.”

“What is this about, Dean? This whole time you’ve been acting weird and I didn’t want to say anything before but you’re starting to worry me.” Sam closed his laptop and leaned forward on the table.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, “nothing, Sam. I just wanna get this case over with.”

“Bullshit, Dean. Something’s going on, just tell me.”

“I don’t know, okay?” Dean yelled as he stood up, “I just know that I need to save her!”

In the middle of the argument, the brothers hadn’t noticed Y/N standing just outside the bathroom door. She’d recently emerged from the steamy shower and heard the entire exchange.

“You feel it too?” She asked, walking slowly towards Dean. Ever since he’d popped back into her life, Y/N had felt a sort of connection to Dean. Like a magnet pulling her towards the tall, handsome man with the honest and stunning green eyes.

She stopped right in front of him, unknowingly reaching up to touch his face. Dean was speechless.

As her hand touched his stubbled cheek, he closed his eyes and leaned into it. He didn’t know how or why, all he knew was that being this close to her felt… right. Right and peaceful.

As her thumb lightly traced his lower lip, Dean opened his eyes and became lost in her Y/E/C orbs. They were like oceans, or deep Y/E/C lakes that held so much — all the pain of her past deaths, all the love of her past lives, the fear and the joy, the confusion and the knowledge, everything she had been, and everything she would ever be.

Y/N felt the same way. As she stared deep into his soul, she could see him, truly see who he was. Someone who had been through more than anyone ever should, someone who had been to hell and back — literally, although that she did not know — but also someone who loved more fiercely and passionately than any human ever could. A tug on her heart strings whispered a secret, a secret that made no sense and yet made all the sense in the world. Who was Dean Winchester? Her heart knew.

Having completely forgotten Sam was in the room, Dean leaned down to kiss Y/N. Her eyes fluttered shut and he closed the distance. His breath fanned over her lips and his heart hammered in his chest. Closer and closer, until there was but a hair’s distance between their lips.

Suddenly, Y/N started screaming. Deep, frightened shrieks as she backed away.

“NO!” She cried, falling to her knees, “please, don’t kill me!”

She looked up at Dean through tear-filled eyes, the walls closing in around her and air completely leaving her lungs. She could barely make out Dean’s figure leaning down toward her, a sickening smirk on his face as he pulled a dagger from his jacket. She backed away as best she could but he followed, the sadistic glimmer of ecstasy visible in his now glowing, red eyes. Y/N curled up into fetal position and sobbed, it was happening again. He made her love him and now he would kill her. Like others before, he would grab her by the hair — she could almost feel the strong pull at her scalp — and drag her upwards. Stare at her with evil in his heart, and drag the sharp blade down her chest, stopping just where her heart was beating before plunging the dagger deep inside her, laughing as she choked on her own blood.

Dean was frantic. He tried to reach down to help her but she was completely terrified of him. The fear in her eyes broke his heart into a thousand pieces, even more when Sam ran to her. She curled up against him and begged to be saved from the monster, begged to be protected from Dean.

Sam held a shaking Y/N in his arms, he did the best he could to calm her down. She was hallucinating, somehow imagining Dean would kill her, and was completely inconsolable. Looking up at Dean apologetically, Sam could see how this was affecting his brother. Impossibly, Dean had fallen in love with a complete stranger and the image of her frightened, specifically by him, must be causing the older Winchester insurmountable amounts of pain.

Unable to take it anymore, Dean grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. He swung it open and was surprised to see Dr. Sanderson stood there, hand raised as if she were about to knock.

“Ah, Mr. Winchester, so nice to see you again,” said Dr. Sanderson.

Dean frowned, “sorry, doc. Don’t know who you’re looking for but no Winchester here.”

Dr. Sanderson smiled, “oh come off it, Dean. We both know who you really are.”

At the realization, Dean’s eyes widened as he reached backwards for his gun. Before he could aim at her, she raised her hand and yelled “Recedas!”

Suddenly, Dean was thrown backwards by an invisible force. Crashing against the far wall of the motel room as Sam reacted quickly to the attack. Not quick enough, however, as the witch repeated the curse and sent him flying backwards as well. Tethered to their respective walls, the Winchesters groaned in pain, struggling to get free as they watched the witch walk towards a distraught Y/N.

“Y/N, sweetie. So glad I found you,” she leaned down and grabbed Y/N’s chin between her forefinger and thumb.

“Dr. Sanderson?” Y/N whispered incredulously.

“Oh, sorry, almost forgot I’m still wearing my old hag form,” the witch laughed as she stepped back and muttered words in Latin. As she did, a purple light surrounded her, blinding everyone else and completely enveloping her. As the light dissipated, a beautiful brunette appeared before their eyes. Dean looked to Sam, worry etched across his features.

“Beatrix,” Y/N managed.

“That’s better, isn’t it? Now we can talk like old times, it has been a while... I missed you, honey.”

Sam frowned as he looked to see who the witch called honey. It wasn’t Y/N.

Beatrix sauntered over to Dean, reaching out to drag one perfectly manicured finger down his chest, “you know, at first I couldn’t believe my eyes. It’s been so long since I last saw you, I almost thought my mind was playing tricks on me.”

“Let us go, you bitch,” Dean seethed at the witch.

“It’s funny,” Beatrix continued, ignoring Dean’s demand as she laid both hands on his chest, caressing the firm muscles beneath his thin cotton shirt, “I cursed little Y/N here because she stole you from me, I wanted her to suffer over and over again. To fall in love like you and I did, to find happiness and then take it when she least expected it. I orchestrated the whole thing, I’ve seen all her lives and I’ve seen all her deaths but this… this is just a delicious coincidence.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Y/N asked. She was still on the floor, too scared to move but had found just enough courage to speak.

Beatrix laughed, “right. Sorry, I forgot what I did to you. You really don’t know who he is, do you?”

Y/N shook her head, tears once again streaming down her cheeks.

Leaving Dean behind, Beatrix walked towards Y/N again, “well here, let’s see if you remember now.”

She leaned down and pressed her blood-red lips to Y/N’s forehead. As soon as she did, faded and blurry memories of a long lost love flooded her mind. Walks in the park and stolen kisses in the cloak of night. Beautiful green eyes staring deep into her soul, filled with promises and love.

“Michael?” Y/N cried out.

“Bingo!”

Sam’s confused gaze flitted between Beatrix and Y/N and Dean. Soon, however, his hazel eyes widened in realization.

“What the fuck are you talking about, witch?” Dean growled as he saw Beatrix so close to Y/N, forget the pain he felt as he’d been slammed against the wall, he’d take a thousand hits before he let the damn witch touch Y/N again.

“It’s you, Dean,” Sam gasped for air as the force keeping him against the wall pressed on further, “you’re Michael.”

“No, he died a long time ago, Y/N said so,” Dean almost forgot he was still incapacitated by the witch’s curse, he was too focused on what Sam had just said to care.

Y/N stood on shaky legs, taking slow, measured steps towards him. “Michael,” she whispered as she touched his face once more.

“It’s Dean, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m going to save you,” his voice cracked as he saw the love and admiration in Y/N’s eyes, and for just a moment, he was at peace again.

An evil cackling brought him back to reality, “adorable. And remarkable, you’re not him at all and yet you feel the same way for this peasant as he did. Well, if you’re so desperate to be like Michael…”

Beatrix raised a hand and blew on a small pile of dust in her hand. She muttered more Latin and soon Dean was freed from his invisible prison. A gush of air surrounded him and suddenly his hand reached up to Y/N. To touch her, he told himself, but his hand had other plans. Against his wishes, it closed around Y/N’s throat, fingers wrapped around her soft skin as they squeezed, effectively cutting off her supply of air.

Y/N eyes widened in fear once more, she clawed at his hands around her throat, desperately trying to pry them off, to no avail. Dean screamed in agony, he wanted to stop, needed to stop, but his body wouldn’t listen, it was as if he was being possessed by a demon. Able to see what he did but incapable to stop it, even as his free hand pulled at the possessed one currently killing his love.

Beatrix laughed heartily, out of all the times she’d seen Y/N die, this may be her favorite yet. Not only did she get her revenge once more, she had seen a reincarnation of her former lover and it was Dean Winchester, the infamous hunter that so many others were terrified of. And he too suffered. She could see the pain in his eyes as he choked the life out of Y/N, and it was bliss to the witch.

She was so focused on the scene unfolding before her that she failed to keep the focus on Sam’s grip. The tall Winchester dropped to the floor, running to where his gun had dropped. He raised the weapon and cocked it. Although subtle and barely audible amid the cacophony of screams and laughter, the witch managed to hear the click and turned just in time to throw another curse at Sam. The weapon flew from his hands, Beatrix was seething, preparing to deliver a fatal strike when the boom of a shot rang in their ears.

She turned to Dean again, and saw the gun in his free hand. Gasping for breath, the witch sank to her knees. She tried to mutter one last curse before her body gave way and she collapsed completely, finally dead.

As Beatrix exhaled her last breath, the hand that was wrapped around Y/N’s throat let go and Dean regained full control. Breathless, Y/N collapsed against him and darkness enveloped her.

“Y/N!” Dean shook Y/N’s limp body.

No, I just saved you. Please, come back!

His thoughts raced a thousand miles per hour, his heart broke for the millionth time that day and just when he was about to give up hope, a ragged breath escaped Y/N’s lips.

She coughed violently, gasping for breath as she regained consciousness. Dean held her close to him and kissed her forehead.

Warmth radiating from his body enveloped Y/N in a blanket of safety and comfort. She knew it was Dean, not Michael per se, but the feelings were the same. It was as if, somehow, despite everything she’d gone through, her love had gotten back to her.

Dean couldn’t explain the feelings he had for Y/N but he couldn’t care less. She was his, she was safe, and that was all that really mattered.

Looking down to Y/N, Dean felt reality warp around them. Suddenly, they weren’t in a motel room anymore but in the middle of a garden, bathed in moonlight, surrounded by trees as the wind whispered sweet nothings in their ear. Her beautiful, wide eyes met his own and her full lips beckoned him closer. He leaned down and touched his lips to hers.

The second their lips met, fireworks went off around them. The kiss was gentle at first, light touches. Soon, however, a hunger deep within Dean awoke and he turned desperate, lightly biting at her lower lip. Swallowing her moans and brushing his tongue against hers.

In the midst of it all, Dean realized one thing; he’d finally come home.

****

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[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Moving (alt)

Thorns & Jasmine

In which more memories surface Breannan would have liked to keep buried.

Warnings: Nightmares, panic, aftermath of torture and some unpleasant healing the previous day, flashbacks to more angst, bad injuries and almost drowning

Please note: This is a version without any references to suicide - the difference isn’t that large, but if you come here by any other way than over the link in the full version, you can find it on the masterlist 💜

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The night was every bit as restless as Breannan had assumed. Caldyn kept waking up, sometimes screaming, sometimes merely shaking. It never took long for him to fall back asleep, probably due to both his exhaustion and Breannan’s closeness.

When the darkness outside the windows slowly faded, Caldyn awoke, for once not from a nightmare, but slowly. His hand on Breannan’s side twitched as he moved his head.

“Breannan.”

“I’m here,” he said, lightly stroking the back of Caldyn’s neck.

“How late?”

“It’s morning.” A quick glance towards the window confirmed it. “The sun is about to rise.”

Gwyneth would come back soon. Breannan only hoped that his friend would also still be able to trust her, after what she had had to do on the previous day.

“Sorry. Kept you up again.”

Whatever it was that Caldyn had heard on the previous day, it seemed to be gone now, or at least quieter. His words were still strained, but no longer as fragmented, the meaning behind them not as exhausted anymore.

“Don’t worry. I got to sleep yesterday, didn’t I?” Which of course meant he was tired again after spending the whole night awake, but it wasn’t so bad. And today wouldn’t be as horrible as yesterday, so he was sure he’d make it until the evening.

“Let’s get you some water,” he said, trying to keep himself busy and Caldyn distracted. It worked. First he helped his friend sit up again, then he reached for the cup. When Caldyn signaled him that he was done, Breannan filled it again for himself, drinking slowly.

“Breannan? Can we…” Caldyn paused, and Breannan gave him time to find his words. Whatever he’d want, if it was at all possible, he’d make sure to fulfill this wish.

“Can we… move the bed? To the wall?” Caldyn’s left hand brushed over the blanket, spread over soft moss and leaves. “Less… less open.”

“Of course.” Breannan looked around, scanning the room. One wall was fully covered with a grown shelf, one was free. Between the window, the door and other furniture, the other two didn’t have much room in front of them. “I’ll ask Gwyneth to help me with it when she comes. Then I can hold you while she moves the bed.”

It probably wasn’t exactly what the healer was coming here for, but he had no doubt she’d do them that favor. He faintly wondered if she’d be as relieved as he was that Caldyn was getting better. Not just physically. Breannan was so glad to see him get better mentally, to speak, to ask for things. Caldyn was fighting, and he’d be at his side for as long as he would want him there.

“Hey, it’s me,” Gwyneth announced herself a short while later.

“Hello, Gwyneth,” Breannan replied.

She entered the room, not carrying anything today. As she came closer, her gaze wandered over Breannan and her patient, and whatever it was she saw in them, it was enough to put a small smile on her lips.

“Alright,” she said as she settled down. “Let’s get those wounds closed.”

Breannan’s gaze automatically wandered to Caldyn’s chest. He had avoided taking a closer look at it so far, but it was less bad than he had feared. Not that it would be easy to be worse than it had already been; whatever small holes the thorns had left behind vanished between torn bark, and the fresh sap had long crystallized.

“Actually, would you mind helping us with something first?” he asked. When she looked at him questioningly, he gestured to the far wall. “We’d like to move his bed. If you could take it over there while I sit with him?”

“Sure.” She looked from the bed to the wall and back. “Might as well grab a new blanket while I’m on it, right?”

Breannan nodded as he pulled Caldyn closer towards him. Gwyneth walked around, picking up a fresh blanket and pushing the old one aside, so she could reach the bedding beneath it. She moved it over to the wall, eventually placing the fresh blanket on top, tucking it around the moss.

“Think that’s it,” she said, crouching down next to Caldyn and Breannan. “Now how do we get you over there?”

That was a good question; one Breannan hadn’t asked himself before. There was no way Caldyn would be able to walk, not even with their help. Breannan was a good deal taller than his friend, though, and would probably be strong enough to carry him, at least partially.

“I’d say I take your shoulders and carry you, and Gwyneth can make sure your legs are fine. What do you say?”

When Caldyn nodded, Breannan got up without letting go of him. He reached for Caldyn’s shoulders, grabbing him under the arms and pulling him up. Slowly, he half dragged, half carried Caldyn across the room, while Gwyneth made sure his legs weren’t moving any more than necessary. It was only a few steps, but Breannan was glad when he had reached the bed and was able to lower Caldyn down onto it. He tried to be as careful as possible, but he didn’t miss the way Caldyn clenched his teeth as his back touched the bed.

Lying down, Caldyn felt around, his fingers sliding over the blanket until they found the wall. He traced the faint patterns the plants had left behind when single strands had merged into one almost solid surface, years ago. “Thank you,” he said, turning his head, evidently not quite sure where Breannan or Gwyneth were standing.

“Of course,” she said, sitting down next to him. Now that there was a wall on the other side of Caldyn, Breannan would have a harder time staying at his side when she healed him. “How about I take a look at those wounds now?”

Caldyn nodded, but the moment Gwyneth reached for his chest, he flinched back against the wall.

She watched him, her hands hovering over him. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I… I know.” Despite his words, he flinched again when she reached for him. This time Gwyneth tried to go on, placing her finger next to one of the spots where she had removed the thorns. She didn’t get to start healing before Caldyn tried to crawl away, shaking visibly.

“Please, please don’t,” he whispered, the same kind of terror behind his words as the night before.

Gwyneth leaned back with a sigh, placing her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry. I know… know it’s you. I can’t…” Caldyn’s voice broke and a few shaky breaths followed, while his hand slid searchingly over the wall. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Breannan said. He understood his friend too well. “She won’t.” He wouldn’t let her. Not unless it was absolutely necessary, and it didn’t seem to be. He knew it would have been slightly easier to heal those wounds while they were fresh, but in the grand scheme of things it probably didn’t matter much.

“I’m not sure where to continue then,” Gwyneth said. “His back, so lying down won’t hurt as much, or his legs, so he can move again and possibly lie on his side.”

“You could ask him,” Breannan pointed out.

“I’m sorry. I’m not very used to my patients being…”

“Awake?” Caldyn asked.

Gwyneth made a quiet, embarrassed noise, confirming affirmation.

“I understand.” He paused, bending his head back and trying to move his leg. He sank back with a pained hiss, taking a moment before he managed to speak again. “Legs. Please.”

Gwyneth nodded and shifted to sit closer to them. “Usually someone else takes over at that point. When they’re… when it’s sure they’ll survive.”

Caldyn flinched as she put her hands near his left knee. “The blue house,” he then said. “I was there?” When she confirmed this as well, he added, “The small room?”

“You know about it?”

“I was invited there… once.” Caldyn’s voice was weak, but steady. “Didn’t go. Left the tree instead.”

“Right. Breannan said you are a healer.” Gwyneth moved his leg, tracing the ripped bark, starting to mend it. “And I can tell that you’re a good one.”

Breannan had quietly listened to the two of them. When they now fell silent, he couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know?”

It had been the wrong thing to ask, he knew it instantly, even if he had no idea what about his question had been wrong. Gwyneth froze, her hand hovering over Caldyn’s leg. She looked from him to Breannan, then at her hand, resting on Caldyn’s thigh.

“His legs. They were broken before,” she said quietly. “Possibly more than… once.”

When she paused, looking at Caldyn for confirmation, he nodded. The silent gesture was worse than anything he could have said. It made Breannan sick. Gwyneth had mentioned before how it was likely that the lost ones had forced his friend to heal himself until he had run out of energy to do so. Thinking about what exactly might have happened was different from bringing up the mere theory, though.

“Was there anything else you managed to heal?” Gwyneth asked, her gaze wandering over Caldyn’s body. “Anything I should check?”

Caldyn was quiet for a while. He raised his left hand, placing it over his left hip, close to his core. “I tried to… to escape. He was… he stabbed me. Here and…” His hand slid off as he tried to move it higher, and he didn’t seem to have the strength to lift it again. “I would have, but… I didn’t… didn’t want to… die.” Caldyn’s voice was trembling, pain and fear and hopelessness behind the words.

Breannan scrambled a step back, trying to focus on breathing. He shouldn’t have asked. Of all the memories, this was the last one he could allow to take over. He looked at the window, at the dim light tinted green by endless leaves. He was home, under his parent’s branches, and his friend would be fine, and he was sitting at the shore of a long forgotten lake, his torso, bark crudely stitched together, hurting with every breath.

“Too close to your core?” Gwyneth asked, and Breannan tried to focus on her voice. Her movements were blurry before his tear-filled eyes as she checked the spots Caldyn had pointed to.

His hands, wrapped tightly in soft leaves, hurt even more. He was thirsty, but there was no way for him to lift the hollow pumpkin filled with water they had left next to him. He could call for them, probably, but with them they would bring those spoken words.

“Yes.”

Words. Meaningless, terrible words. At least there was a hint of meaning behind them, of compassion and pity and rage. It wasn’t enough to truly understand them. It was still too much like the noises those horrible creatures had made.

Breannan had retreated into the corner of his study room. It was all he could do. He should get out, should run, he was too close to Caldyn. He didn’t want him to know, didn’t want him to feel, but there was no way he’d manage to get up, or stop it.

He stared at the water, glistening in the evening sun. If even his people used these sounds now, he’d never escape them. They had tried to teach him the names they had chosen, a single word for each of them. He couldn’t remember them, and he couldn’t repeat them. He didn’t want to.

“Breannan? What’s wrong?”

Someone touched him and he screamed; tried to scream, the noise that left his lips choked and breathless. He couldn’t breathe, no matter how hard he tried. His body was falling apart from the lack of air. It was terrible and familiar, promising numbness behind the panic.

Lish’s hands wrapped around him as she dragged him out of the water. Words and meaning, noise and worry, asking him what had happened. Breannan wasn’t sure what had happened. He had wanted to drink, without calling for anyone.

“Breannan? Are you hurt? What happened?”

He coughed, and it hurt in his chest, and they kept talking all around him, and it hurt in his head. He winced every time one of them spoke, the meaning behind the noise not enough to tell him what was going on.

“Gwyneth. Leave him. Please. He needs space.”

“But —”

“Please. Come here. Don’t talk.”

The voices were gone now. There was only the sound of the forest, of wind and rustling leaves and singing birds. Lish was holding him, her hand on his forehead, her hum carrying the promise of safety. The sun was sinking below the horizon, so low already he didn’t have to blink against its light. It was beautiful and quiet.

It was quiet. Quiet enough for Breannan to open his eyes, to see his surroundings. No lake and no sunset, just his study room. And on the far side, Caldyn sitting against the wall, Gwyneth at his side. Breannan met her gaze, so full of unspoken concern.

He couldn’t tell them, couldn’t speak. The words were forgotten. Gwyneth said something, and he couldn’t understand her either. The sound was enough to make him flinch again. Caldyn tapped her shoulder, lowered his head towards her, perhaps saying something. Breannan couldn’t hear it. She nodded, and she got up, and she left.

Breannan didn’t know how long he sat still, trying to calm his breaths. They didn’t hurt, not really, but he felt like they had to. After a while, he realized there was a sound, a low humming noise. It carried something. Meaning.

Come.

He didn’t think as he followed it, making his way across the room towards Caldyn. A hand searched for him, following the sound he had caused as he had settled down. Breannan reached for it, still unable to speak. He didn’t have to. The hand coaxed him to lie down, lying partly on the soft moss of Caldyn’s bed. Another hand found his forehead, stroking it lightly, and the hum returned.

Safe.

It was wrong. It should be him, comforting his friend. But he was so tired, and the memory still dangerously close. As he closed his eyes, he was back at the lake, Lish’s hand brushing through his hair as she hummed quietly. He opened his eyes, and it was his friend’s hand, his hum carrying the same worry. He wanted to tell him that he was fine. All the words were gone from his mind.

The hum changed. Rest. The touch stayed the same.

Breannan closed his eyes. The smell of wet sand and seaweed from his memory mixed with the smell of dust and books in his study room. The touch was Lish’s and Caldyn’s and both and none. The meaning behind their hum told him that he was loved and safe. It was quiet. He slept.

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