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forsworned · 1 month

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Breach of privacy ft. Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Author's note: Kyle stumbles upon your journal and he can't keep his prying fingers off, but what happens when you catch him?

Tags: Sexual Content ish?, Your teammate that you have the hots for is reading your private, sexual thoughts about him

He didn’t mean to do it, really. The journal was just lying open with your fluffy pompom pink pen stuck between the pages. His fingers graze the rosy pages as his eyes skim over your handwriting.

March 30

Sometimes I really can’t help but get lost in his honey eyes when he talks. Everything else fades to white noise when he looks at me. I can’t get enough.

He chuckles softly. He supposes you could be talking about anyone like that. His fingers trace the edge of the page, contemplating whether to turn it.

Of course, Kyle isn’t an idiot—well, maybe a little bit. He has enough sense to know he really shouldn’t pry into your private thoughts. It’s wrong, but he can’t help himself.

He tentatively bites his lip, glancing at your door, which is slightly ajar, and then back at the journal. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he turns the page.

He notices a few torn pages and skips to something more recent:

July 29

The dream I had last night was way too vivid for my liking. I stashed my cake in the farthest part of the fridge, and Johnny still ate it!—

Kyle snorts softly. It’s not completely unrealistic for the Scotsman to eat their food, even if it’s labeled.

—Apparently, I was so upset that I ended up crying, but Kyle told me he had a remedy for my post-eaten cake blues and took me to his room.—

Kyle hesitates, his breath catching as he reads the last line. The word “throbbing” pulses in his mind, teasing him with the possibility of what might follow. He half-expects the entry to turn explicit, making him regret invading your privacy even more.

But as he reads on, he realizes it’s not what he thought:

—He sits me down and eases me into his bed, insisting that the only cure for my misery is the warmth of a freshly baked brownie. I’m skeptical, of course, but when he hands me the plate, my resolve melts away. The chocolate is still warm, soft, and gooey, and as I take the first bite, the flavor spreads through me like a comforting hug. The throbbing in my head from crying so much begins to fade.—

Kyle lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. That’s all it was—a headache. He chuckles, shaking his head at his own overactive imagination.

Just as he’s about to close the journal, something at the bottom of the page catches his eye. The next sentence appears hastily scrawled, the handwriting slanting with urgency:

—But then he leans closer, and his hand rests on my thigh. His touch is gentle at first, but soon enough, the warmth from his hand begins to spread, and it’s not just my headache that’s throbbing anymore…

Kyle’s eyes widen, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason. He quickly flips the page, but before he can read more, the sound of footsteps approaching makes him snap the journal shut, his face flushing with guilt and something else he doesn’t want to name.

Your body goes rigid when you notice the fine-ass man of your dreams (literally) standing in your room, holding your journal. Horrified doesn’t even begin to cover it.

He’s slow to realize the journal is still in his possession, and when it hits him, he scrambles to put it back on your worktable. “Oh, I wasn’t—” He stammers, but before he can finish, it slips from his grip and falls to the ground, spilling its contents. The horrified expression on your face only deepens.

You rush over to gather everything, and he crouches to help, but your voice is irate. “J-just stop!” You exclaim. He pauses, glancing up at you with a remorseful expression, but you don’t care—not when the spilled items include detailed sketches of Kyle and, well…

“Whoa,” he murmurs, taking in the intricate ink drawing of you and Kyle in a rather compromising position. It’s enough to make his cock strain against his compression shorts.

Your face burns as you snatch the illustration from his fingers and stuff it back into your diary. He slowly stands, feeling a flush creeping up his cheeks. He had no idea you saw him like that.

He watches as your lip quivers with the journal tucked under your arm.

“[Name], I…” He steps forward, but you shake your head and step back.

“Just get out,” you say softly. He can tell you’re deeply upset—probably more than he’s ever seen you before. His heart sinks when you turn away, folding your arms as a tear slips down your cheek.

Ah, fuck. He’s really done it now.

“And you just kept reading?” His Captain’s incredulous tone feels like a stab to his chest.

“Well—”

“No, ‘well,’ ‘ifs,’ or ‘buts.’ You invaded the lass’s privacy. Have you no shame, Kyle?” Price continues to scold him. Kyle shakes his head, almost understanding, but not quite.

“It’s just that I saw these drawings and—”

“—Don’t tell me.” Price cuts him off, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Jesus, Kyle. Are you serious right now?”

“I…”

Price points a finger at him with a threatening tone. “Not another word. Go now.”

The temptation to read someone’s private thoughts is childish, but he can’t ignore it. He runs a hand over his stress-stricken face and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Go apologize,” Price chides, gesturing to your room, which you’ve locked yourself in. Kyle opens his mouth to protest, but John doesn’t want to hear it. “Now. Before I kick your arse myself. That’s an order, Sergeant.” He turns away, taking a long swig of his ale.

Exasperated and dejected, Kyle scoots off the barstool and heads to your door. He lifts his knuckle to knock but hesitates, glancing back at his Captain, who glares at him intently.

Yeesh.

He softly knocks on the door, but there’s no reply. “Hey, [Name]. It’s me, Kyle. Can I come in?”

“Why? So you can read more of my journal?” You call out from behind the door, and he feels a dull ache in his chest. He leans his ear against the door and closes his eyes,

“To apologize, lass.”

There is an uncomfortable silence before he hears you padding toward the door, and shifts his weight so he’s no longer supported by the barrier. You only crack the door open. Your eyes are sunken in, cheeks are tear stained and flushed, and he feels his heart sink even further.

“Please.” He pleads with you, and you can tell he’s being sincere. Begrudgingly, you open the door and he steps in as you shut it behind you.

“Can I sit?”He points to your bed, and there’s a flash of your dream that plays behind your eyes as it dips beneath his weight.

“Well, you’re already sitting.” You mutter, crossing your arms at him. He gives you a sheepish smile before apologizing and he leans forward, weaving his fingers together. He glances up at you with an earnest look in his amber eyes. A look that makes your heart melt no matter how angry and humiliated you may feel because of him.

“I’m sorry, [name], really. I was wrong.”

You lean against the corner of your desk, crossing your legs in front of you. “Are you sorry because the Cap said you ought to be?”

He glances away and shuts his eyes, “[name]...”

Vexation shocks at your system. “No, don’t you [name] me. You had the fuckin’ audacity to read my thoughts, in my journal in my room.” You scoff at his impudence. “Unbelievable.”

His shoulders slump, “Look, I understand. I really do. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I just got curious…and also—”

“Also what?” You challenge, quirking a brow at him.

“I just never realized how talented you were. I mean really, for a second there I thought I was reading a romance novel not a diary that doubles as a personal art gallery.”

You can help but snort at his cutesy attempt of trying to dig his way out of the hole he just created for himself. He swallows thickly realizing his charm is working on you, “and…”

“And?” you press inquisitively.

He sighs and gives you an earnest look. “I really am sorry.”

You tilt your head to the side. You almost feel bad for the sorry state he’s in. It’s easy to tell when Kyle feels guilty of something, when he’s being honest and genuine, when he’s annoyed and fed up—when he’s genuinely happy and you see that glimmer of softness in his pretty eyes…

“But I can’t help but feel like I’m the main love interest.” He teases, trying to lighten the mood and that causes your disappointment and anger to crack.

You roll your eyes, failing to suppress your laughter.“Yeah, well, the main love interest has a lot to answer for.”

He smiles and stands up, stepping closer to you. You allow him to close the space a little, glancing up at his towering form and feeling the warmth radiating off his body. “Okay, I’ll be honest. I have no clue how to fix this, but let me make it up to you?”

The smell of his aftershave is dizzying. “How?”

“Well, for starters,” He takes another step and you’re raising your brow at his boldness. “I’ll stop snooping where I don’t belong.”

You fold your arms across your chest. “Uh huh,” Your heart thrums loudly against your chest.

“And I can take you out to lunch? That cafe you really love that’s all the way in the city, the one with the cute pastries you love.” He tempts, and of course, you can’t help but to cave in. It’s annoying and slightly distressing how you allow it. You don’t want to, but you’re crashing quickly at the look in his eyes as he licks his plump lips, grinning down at you.

“Fine. Only because I adore that place.” You point your finger at him. “And”

He raises his brows waiting for your next condition. “There’s no price limit on what I want.”

You knew he would do that anyway, but you wanted to make it crystal clear. He pokes his tongue in his cheek and chuckles. “Boy, you really know how to seal a deal, eh?”

“Idea,” You smirk. “maybe you should try not poking your nose into places it doesn't belong then.” You sarcastically remark, and he playfully scoffs at you. He enjoys the banter, and well, you.

“Touche.”

You sigh as you card your fingers through your hair. “Fine, but you’re still not off the hook.”

His eyes darken with something unspoken. “Good, I don’t wanna be.”

For a moment you feel the intensity cracking down on you as you search his eyes, and you’re melting under his gaze. But there’s a rapping at your door that tears your gazes from one another.

“All good?” Price’s leans against the doorway, trying not to pry. His expression is unreadable and you can’t help but to feel some relief.

“Yeah, Cap, we’re good.”

He nods, eyeing Kyle for a bit longer. There’s still a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but he can’t say that he’s not consoled by you two making up. He thinks that maybe Kyle’s lesson isn’t quite up yet.

“C’mon Kyle, got somethin’ for ya to do.” He gestures for him to come with him. A smug look on his face as he winks over at you. Kyle groans.

“Oh, no.” Kyle pouts as he’s being dragged away by Price and you’re giggling at his objection to obey his Captain’s orders. He reaches out to you as you grin. “Save me!”

You shake your head as you close your door, “Not a chance, Garrick.”

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ldysmfrst · 3 months

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American Mate (10) - A Date in the Right Direction

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 10 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 11,976

Work count for Story: 65,512

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I am currently not working because of a broken foot. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have mentions of lost pregnancy, pack dynamics, comfort, Alpha/Luna vibes, and close proximity, but mainly, it is just Fluff.

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

The next morning is a complete departure from your usual routine. You had meticulously set your alarm for 7:30 am, anticipating a quick shower would suffice before your medical appointment. But fate had other plans in store for you.

Shuffling, giggling, and the hushed “Quiet Kookie” woke you. Wait… is that water running? What time… what?

Stretching as you blink your eyes, you end up face to face with Jungkook, “Ah! Jungkook! What are you doing?”

“Good morning, my sweets,” the bunny smiled brightly with his big eyes. No care in the world that he just spooked you await.

Still hearing movement, you take a look around. Jungkook is kneeling on the bed but not inside your fort. Yoongi has popped his head out of your bathroom, and Seokjin stands at the entry door with a tray.

“Good morning, Jungkook, Seokjin, Yoongi. What time is it?’ rubbing your eyes and stretching again. Man, that was the deepest sleep you have gotten in a long time.

Each Alpha wants to coo at your cute little stretches, which are maddeningly hidden by Taehyung’s blanket.

Seokjin is the first to snap out of watching you, “It’s almost 7 am, dear. I have a light breakfast, and Yoongi is drawing a bath for you. We want to make sure you're comfortable and ready for your day."

Looking at Seokjin with a bit of a question furrowing your brow. Yoongi retreats into the bathroom now that he sees you are not upset at the intrusion.

“Sweets, we heard your doctor’s appointment was this morning. I hate doctor’s appointments, and we thought it might be uncomfortable for you, too.” Jungkook says while he giggles at your expression.

“Thank you, Alphas. I was going to try a shower today, but a bath sounds good,” you say. A smile blooms on your face at the knowledge of the Alphas trying to make your day good.

“Princess, the bath is ready. I used the Cassia and Cherry scented bath bomb for you today. I set a towel to the side for you like last time. When you are done, please call for any of us to help dry your hair, okay?” asks Yoongi as he heads toward the door.

“Sure thing, Yoongi. Thank you again.” With another smile, Yoongi looks pointedly at the youngest packmate before leaving to get ready, presumably.

“Jin, is breakfast something that will get cold, or can I eat it after the bath?” you ask. Meanwhile, you note that Jungkook has scooted closer to you but still not close enough to touch you or your fort.

“It’s a simple breakfast: just some fruits and a bagel with cream cheese,” his eyes widened. He looked at the tray and then back at you. “You do like fruit, bagels, and cream cheese, right?”

Giggling, you kick out of the blankets and start scooting toward him. “Who doesn’t like those? They would be crazy not to like those!”

You look at the array of foods on the tray, “Thank you, Jin. It looks good. Oh, you got mangos, my favorite!”

You happily take a large bite of the slice and close your eyes to enjoy the burst of flavor. Seokjin watches you eat intensely, and Jungkook approaches your side.

Opening your eyes, you look back at the bunny, asking, “Can you have mangos?” At his nodding, you offer him to take the rest of the mango in your hand.

Leaning forward, Jungkook eats the mango from your hand. His lips barely touch your fingertips, temporarily short-circuiting you.

You immediately drop your hand and look back at Seokjin, only to notice he is watching Jungkook eat. You feel like you are getting too warm over witnessing something that should be between mates only.

“Umm... I am gonna go take that bath now,” you say softly.

Bolting into the walk-in closet, you look for something comfortable and yours to wear today. You pull out a pair of leggings, a sports bra, a crisscross tank, and a non-thousand-dollar sweater.

When you leave the closet, you notice that the tray has been left at the end of the bed, and the two remaining Alphas have left the room.

Softly, you bang your head on the door frame and mumble, “Good job, y/n. Way to keep professionalism.”

You could ask someone to take you to a salon to wash it.

Your mind didn’t focus on any one thing as you dried off and dressed. That seems to be your mode right now.

Your mind is like a laptop with 20 tabs open, and you cannot figure out where the music is coming from or what language it is even in.

Walking out of the bathroom, you towel off your hair and head to the door to ask Yoongi for help, as instructed.

At the sound of your name being called from inside the bedroom, you jump and spin around to see Seokjin sitting down with a brush and cordless hair dryer.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but it sounded like you were almost done with your bath. I wanted to help you with your hair,” Seokjin says, holding up the tools. “That and I wanted to talk to you while you ate.”

“It’s okay, Jin. I had joked with Yoongi earlier about getting him and Taehyung a bell, but now I think it’s not them being sneaky.” You shake your head and make your way to sit on the bed in front of the eldest Alphas.

You smile as you relish the feeling of someone else brushing your hair. Reaching out with your good hand, you pull the food tray closer and start munching. The mango, strawberries, and grapes are so fresh. The bagel and cream cheese also taste like they were made this morning.

Behind you, Seokjin noticed how tangled your hair was still. This prompted him to go into the bathroom and get some leave-in conditioner. Just like Yoonig, Soekjin brushes your hair gently.

When he goes to blow dry your hair, you turn around, stopping him from continuing, and ask, “Jin, umm… I wasn’t able to wash my hair as well as I would like to have. Can someone take me to a salon to wash it?”

“You could have asked one of us to help, dear.”Soekjin says, then quickly adds, “Like to wash it over the sink or something.��

“I didn’t think of that. Not used to having people willing to help me,” you respond, looking down shyly.

Putting a finger under your chin, Seokjin tilts your head back to look at him. “I understand. It will take time to depend on the seven of us, but we are all here for you. I will see what I can do about getting your hair done. For now, what would you like me to do, dear?”

“I would normally braid it, but that won’t work. Maybe a bun?”

“I can do a bun, or I can see if Tae is still here. He has sisters, so I am sure he knows how to braid,” he offers.

“A bun is fine. We don’t have much time, and you said you wanted to talk to me,” you say, turning around and resuming your munching.

“I did… wanna talk to you.” Finishing up the bun, he puts the brushes in your bathroom and asks, “Namjoon talked to you about the outings that the pack wants to do with you right?”

“Oh yes. I think it is nice of the pack to want to do that. I thought this would be more of a group activity kind of pack since you are all bonded. Goes to show you cannot make assumptions,” you giggle.

“Right, I may love my mates together, but sometimes you just need some alone or one-on-one time.”

Sitting on the other side of the food tray, his eyes take in that you have avoided all of the melons on the plate. “You don’t like melons?”

“Not really. I mean, I will eat watermelon and cantaloupe if that is the only fruit, but I am not much of a honeydew fan,” seeing his shoulders drop at your response.

You take a grape, eat it, and smile, “It was a great breakfast for not knowing me that well, Alpha.”

Smiling softly, he notes that he will tell the rest of the pack to avoid melons at all costs and stock up on strawberries, grapes, and mangoes.

“So the umm… outings. It will be interesting to fit them into your guys’ schedules soon. This first week is practically shot since it’s almost over, and the contract hasn’t even been finalized yet. So they will start next week if all goes well?”

“Actually, that is what I wanted to talk to you about,” Seokjin takes your hands in his. “Y/n, I know the contract isn’t finished, but it really doesn’t matter. It’s more like a formality than anything at this point.”

You think of how everything has not followed standard operational procedures. You can hear Derek yelling at you about legalities. You nod slowly in hesitant agreement, waiting for him to continue.

“With that being said, Miss Y/n, Soekjin looks into your eyes, allowing his confidence and childlike anticipation to show. “Would you do me the honor of going out with me tonight?”

You automatically feel your face burst into a blush at his question. For some reason, you thought they would just tell you who would take you and where.

But no. Kim Seokjin, the talented singer of the world-famous K-pop group, is asking you to join him… tonight. The contract is not set; you haven’t passed anything yet, and he is still asking.

Knowing that the pack planned and agreed upon this, you smile, “Tonight sounds great, Jin.”

Why does it feel like you just agreed to go on a date with the eldest member of the Bangtan pack?

Yoongi and Jungkook were the only ones left in the packhouse, Seokjin having left after your conversation.

At 9:30 a.m., Dr. Blackwell arrives with her bag and a smaller suitcase. The doctor has taken you into your room and done the physical exam, wanting to get that out of the way as quickly as possible.

Something about it makes the Alphas feel uneasy, given its vulnerability.

Now, you are all sitting in the dining room, an alpha on each side, with the focus laser-focused on Dr. Blackwell, who seems not to be affected at all.

“Miss Y/n, these questions are personal in nature, and you can deny the presence of the Alphas at your side. They would be required to leave the packhouse and be out of earshot so that you can answer comfortably.”

“Do you want them to stay or leave?” the Doctor asks.

Feeling the hybrids at your side shift at the notion of having to leave you, you answer, “They can stay, Dr. Blackwell. Everything you ask will be in a report for them all to see anyway.”

“Very well,” she finally glances at the two men. “If either of you think you may hear things you do not want to hear then please take your leave now.”

“We are good,” Yoongi replies, and Jungkook nods in agreement.

“Alright. Well, Miss Y/n, can you tell me of your family history, any health conditions, addictions, or genetic background?” the doctor asks.

“Sure. My brother is healthy as a horse and backpacking around the Blue Ridge Mountain range right now. My mother is relatively healthy but does drink heavily in social situations. My grandparents were healthy too and drank socially also.”

“Are those your mother’s parents?”

“Oh yes, this is all my mom’s side. I don’t know anything about my father’s side. He was only in my life until I was about 10 or 11. He and my mother divorced, and mom took away all contact with him and that side of the family.”

“You don’t know your dad?” Jungkook asks with a frown. Bunny hybrids live in large family colonies, so it doesn’t make sense to him.

“No, I don’t. I tried to find him when I turned 18, but my mother threatened to disown me and stuff, so … yeah. I had tried for almost a year before she found out. I figured he would have contacted me by now, if he wanted to.”

Placing your hand on Jungkook’s, you smile softly at him, “It’s been years, Thumper. I am okay.”

“What about your personal history, Miss Y/n?” the doctor says, getting everyone back on track.

“Well, besides my being considered obese by medical standards,” you hear a soft growl from the jaguar but continue, “I have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis. The main symptoms are tiredness, inability to lose weight, some food sensitivities and I am pretty much cold 24/7.”

“Can you list your food sensitivities, please? This is imperative for the contract, as all dietary restrictions must be factored in, Miss Y/n.”

“Umm... yeah. I can’t typically find my way around it, so they really are not restrictions,” you hurriedly say, trying to find a way to avoid the question.

“Princess, Hyung is going to want to know the specifics. His love language is food; remember his promise to keep you well-fed. This will help ensure he doesn’t hurt you in the process,” encourages Yoongi.

“Yeah, sweets. Even Jin-hyung is allergic to garlic, Tae Tae cannot eat spicy foods, and Joonie and Jiminnie-hyung don’t eat seafood. I don’t think it's an allergy for them, but it might as well be,” Jungkook adds, trying to help you feel comfortable.

“Okay,” you nod at both of them and turn to the doctor. I am allergic to chocolate. Citrus and spices give me blisters in my mouth. Sometimes, bananas and avocados make my mouth itchy because of my latex allergy, but I love them. I don’t have a gallbladder, so I avoid red meat for the most part.”

You glance at the jaguar hybrid beside you, expecting a negative response.

However, you are met with a gummy smile and a tail wrapping your thigh, “thank you for sharing, Princess. You and Joonie can share all the surf and turf meals.”

This causes everyone to laugh, effectively making the mood lighter than before.

You continue to answer a series of questions, and then you come to the questions that you hate: the social history, a.k.a. ‘how lame your sex life is’ questions.

“Miss Y/n, since the Bangtan Pack has requested not to include the rut clause. We do have to ask you about things that will affect that. It's best to rapid-fire these to avoid any awkwardness,” the doctor suggests while giving the two Alphas stern looks.

“Sure, rapid-fire works Dr. Blackwell.”

“Gender at birth?”

“Female.”

“Identify as?”

“The same.”

“Orientation?”

“Heterosexual and sapiosexual.” Piquing the interest of the Alphas at your side, but the doctor presses on.

“Ever had intercourse?’

“Yes.”

“Pregnancies?”

“Yes, one that failed. I had a miscarriage.” Jungkook’s hand squeezes yours as Yoogni’s tail softly brushes your forearm.

“Last sexual encounter?

“Th… three years ago. I.. I stopped when I had the miscarriage.”

“Birth Control?”

“IUD implanted shortly after the miscarriage.”

“Well, I think that is all. Your IUD is still usable for another 2 years and the bloodwork will tell us if there is anything else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Dr. Blackwell. I will walk you out and… I think I will take a walk around the property to get some fresh air.”

Both you and the doctor go outside, chatting about random things.

When she goes to get into the car, she stops you from walking off, “Miss Y/n, I didn’t ask with the pack there, but do you want any information on a therapist?”

“Oh no, Thank you, Dr. Blackwell. I can give you Ryan’s number if you need it for the report. He is the Licensed Social Worker that I was seeing until about a year ago.”

“Yes, unfortunately, without his report, I would need to do a psych assessment for the contract.” With that, you gave her all the information for Ryan.

You also decided to call him on your walk and to make sure to get the proper forms to release the sensitive information. Being a good therapist, he questions how you are doing, if you are having any complications with all the questions, and the change in your situation.

You don’t hold back. You let your former therapist know everything. At the end of it all, you realize you have no issues with what has happened.

You are playing your future with caution, and today’s visit wasn’t as terrifying or problematic as you thought it might be.

Inside the packhouse, however, Yoongi and Jungkook were very much dealing with how worrisome the doctor’s visit had become for them.

Once you and the doctor left, they went to Yoongi’s den and chatted with Namjoon and Seokjin. Yoongi went over everything that had happened during the doctor’s visit.

Seokjin was the calmest of the four. He was happy to learn about the dietary restrictions now and not during your date with him tonight. Being the eldest, he figured you had had an entire life before them.

Your reactions to their advantages, the level of panic in certain situations, and your negative self-image have already told him more than enough.

Namjoon remained primarily silent throughout the conversation. With every new bit of information, his resolve to talk with your family pack without you present solidified.

Not to mention, his Alpha now wants to ensure that your experiences with the pack are top-notch. He smiles, knowing Jin’s plans for tonight will hopefully start things off on the right track.

Ending the call, Yoongi and Jungkook head back downstairs and outside. They can hear you walking around the yard, but you are talking to someone about Dr. Blackwell and records.

Considering that you chose to make this call without them around, they sit on the back patio. This allows them to watch over you but respect your privacy.

Bangtan Pack Group Chat

Prime: Hey guys, I want to ask you all something. Hob-ah already knows about this because we talked about it last night.

Prime: After Y/n’s appointment today, which revealed a few new things, I think this idea is really our best bet.

Mochi: What is it, Hyung?

V: What happened at her appointment? Is she okay?

WWH: She is fine, but there were some concerns, which we will discuss later. Namjoon, what is your idea?

Prime: I want to go and talk to the Y/l/n Pack.

Bun: You did that already, though, with Jimin and Yoongi-hyung. You wanna go again?

Seokie: Let him talk Kookie!

Bun: Sorry.

Prime: It’s OK, Kookie. Thank you, Hobi-hyung. I want to go but I want to go without Y/n.

Yoons: You better have a good reason to see a pack without their Luna, Namjoon.

Prime: I want to tell them Y/n is our mate.

Bun: So we are okay with lying to her but not to her pack?

Seokie: No, Bunny. We are not lying to her. We are waiting til the right time to tell her.

Bun: Same difference.

Prime: Talking with her pack and letting them know might get them to tell us more about her and how to tell without her running from us.

WWH: I agree with Yoongi. This is playing with fire. But it may be our best chance. They could help open her mind to the idea.

Prime: Does anyone want to go with me?

Bun: Nope. Not even. She will be the next person I tell about the mate bond.

Yoons: I am with Jungkook on this one. I will stay out of this.

V: I will go with you, hyung. I would like to meet her family pack to start with.

Seokie: I will go, too.

WWH: When is this happening?

Prime: I don’t know yet. I was hoping for tonight.

Prime: but maybe this weekend would be better?

Mochi: Sorry, but Manager Sejin asked what was happening.

Mochi: He thinks this is a good idea. The weekend would work best.

Mochi: also, Seokjin and Namjoon should go, but no more than 4

Mochi: So I am out. I saw them, and I still have other stuff.

WWH: If you schedule it this weekend, I will go. Tonight, I am taking Y/n out on a date.

Prime: Okay, Jin and Hobi-hyung plus TaeTae and I. Got it.

The rest of the morning was quiet. Neither of the Alphas present sought you out, but you would see them skirt around wherever you were. You finally had enough of it and went back to your room.

Looking through the preliminary contract, you found Manager Sejin’s cell number. You decide to call him to ensure he is updated with everything.

“Hello, this is Sejin.”

“Manager Sejin, it’s Y/n. How are you today?”

“Oh Y/n! Hi. I am doing well. Thank you for asking. Yourself?”

“I am doing, umm… well, I’m ok,” you hesitate to ask why the two Alphas are avoiding you.

“Yeah, should I pretend to believe you?” asks the BTS manager. Of course, he isn’t going to notice, but at least he is giving you an out.

“Can we put a pin in it for now? I want to go over a few things with you first.”

“Sure thing. What did you want to discuss? Actually, how did you get my number?”

“Your number is the only number listed on the preliminary contract, Manager Sejin,” you giggle slightly.

“Oh yeah, sorry, most Playmates don’t get a preliminary contract. Anyways, is there something I can help you with?”

“Yes, but first– Dr. Blackwell has come and gone. She did the full physical exam, blood sample, and full history. I also gave Dr. Blackwell my prior therapist's phone number. After she left, I contacted him and he will send me the ROI.”

“Wonderful news. You can tell this isn’t your first rodeo, even if you haven't been a Playmate before. Aside from the mental health report, everything else should be done by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Ryan is already working on a mental health summary report and will have it ready by tonight. He is really quick with that. He is a PMS contracted therapist, Manager Sejin.”

“That is even more perfect. Nothing seems concerning on our end, or the doctor would have already called me.”

“Well, one would think that nothing is concerning,” you say, clearing your throat.

Glancing at your door and deciding you are unsure where the Alphas are now in the house, you move to the bathroom. Closing the door and turning on the sink.

“Miss Y/n are... Are you in the kitchen?”

“No, I am hiding in the bathroom. I don’t know where Yoongi and Jungkook are, but they have been… umm, well… they have been observing me from afar.”

“Observing from afar? Like, what do you mean?”

“After the doctor left, I took a walk outside because some of the information at the end was intense but not unpleasant... for me.”

You nibble on your bottom lip, “But maybe they aren’t okay with it.”

“Okay. I agree that their behavior indicates that something is off. Have you tried going to them? Maybe they are giving you some space.”

“No, I got nervous. I guess I got used to them always coming to me,” you contemplate. “Oh! Can you possibly have someone take me to the salon?”

“Umm, I take it you have no idea what you are doing for your date tonight?”

Your breath catches in your throat when he calls tonight a date. You turn off the sink and walk back to the bedroom.

Is that what this is?

Is that what he called it?

Does the pack know?

“Well, yes, to all of that. Jin said you accepted going out tonight with him. Is he supposed to call it something else?”

“Shit! I said that all out loud?”

Manager Sejin chuckles, “Miss Y/n. It is okay. All of them know about your date with Jin tonight. Actually, I think that may explain the distance.”

“They do? It does?” You sit on the edge of your bed. The revelation that everyone is calling this a date has you reeling.

“They do and don’t tell them I told you, but everyone is nervous about it. Seokjin may not be the Prime Alpha, but he is the oldest mate. There is a lot of pressure for him to make sure tonight goes well.”

“Oh, he could do a movie night in, and I would be happy.”

“Well, this is Kim Seokjin. I doubt you'll be having a movie night at the Pack House. I suspect he has more things planned for you than what you realize.”

“Oh boy, I really need to get my hair done then, ah… Where are we going? Do I need to go shopping? Do I have the right thing to wear?”

“Miss Y/n, now is not the time to spiral. He will let you know what is happening soon. Just be ready. Since it’s already lunchtime, I suggest snacking on something.”

“Wait, you still haven’t explained why tonight Jin has to do with Thumper and Yoongi staying away.”

“I'm going to try not to laugh at you calling Jungkook Thumper,” he says, clearing his throat and trying to mask his laughter. “I am sure you have heard that Alphas are territorial, right?”

“Riiiiight, but Namjoon said they weren’t territorial like that, and he didn’t think they would be with these… ah these dates.”

“They won’t. What Yoongi and Jungkook are doing right now is the reason why they won’t.”

“Oh, but we sat next to each other when I spoke to the doctor.”

“Well, if you want to have a super happy Alpha tonight, you might want to change clothes and wash your hands, but know that you really don’t have to. He isn’t the possessive one of the group.”

After the call, you followed Manager Sejin’s advice by changing your pants, which Yoongi’s tail touched, and washing your hands up to your elbows just to be safe.

You were too nervous to eat now, so you looked around for the other two Alphas, which you knew had to be nearby.

Only to realize that you, a human, were trying to hunt down two adult male Alpha hybrids.

One of them could turn into a bunny that could fit who knows where and has the prey instinct to hide.

The other was an apex-like predator hybrid. You have already threatened to get a bell for him because of his sneakiness.

Giving up, you returned to your room and wasted time scrolling through Tumblr and Insta.

It has just hit 1 pm when you get a knock on your door. When you answer it, you are met with a woman in a pantsuit who doesn’t say anything and hands you a phone. Looking at the screen, you see that there is an active call.

“Umm… Hello? This is Y/n,” you speak into the phone.

“Hello, my dearest,” replies the voice on the other end of the line.

“Jin! You had to send a bodyguard to call me?”

“How else would I contact you? I haven’t been allowed to get your phone number. Her name is Jen, and she will be your driver today.”

“Ah yeah, I should get that to everyone, but why do I need a driver?” Smiling at the now-named woman, you cover the mic on the phone, “Hello Jen, I am y/n.”

“Yes, you do. Are you ready for tonight?”

“No, not even close. I don’t know where we are going, so I don’t know what to wear. My hair is still in the bun. Yoongi and Thumper have been nowhere to be found in the last hour.”

You hear a low chuckle from the phone line and look at the phone with irritated confusion: “You’re laughing?”

“From now on, the only Alpha you need to worry your pretty little head with is… Me.”

His voice has taken a lower tone than other times he has spoken to you, and there is something so stimulating about it.

“Now, my dearest, please go with Jen. She will take you to Mare Salon in West Hollywood, and you will join me for an early dinner. Ready?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you respond quickly, not wanting to upset the Alpha, who controls the rest of your day. While you are not a pushover, you want to be open to tonight and figure you might as well go with the flow.

“Good. Please hand the phone back to Jen and get ready to leave.”

Following his instructions, you hand the phone over. Then grab your purse, phone, and jacket. When you return to the door, Jen is no longer on the phone. “Ready when you are.”

(NOTE: If you would like to see what is being described, please go to American Mate - Date with Jin Pinterest Board)

She leads you to a sleek, all-black Town Car and opens the back door for you. Taking your seat, you find an envelope with your name next to you. Inside is a handwritten letter which reads:

My dearest Y/n, I want you to know that I am in awe of your grace throughout this past week. Even in the ups and downs, you held your ground, spoke your mind, and brought a life to the pack that none of us knew was missing. Tonight, let us celebrate our paths crossing and our lives intertwining. Our first stop of the night is Mare Salon, and this is my first chance to show you that I can treat you as you should be. They will only show you options that can be completed in time to make our dinner reservation. Feel free to pick any of the packages offered. Enjoy yourself right now. See you soon, Kim Seokjin

You read the letter multiple times. He calls you his dearest as if you are something important to him, and he is treating you to a top-tier salon experience.

Seokjin may be known as World Wide Handsome, but he is a World Wide Charmer.

The experience at Mare Salon was something new and something you swear only the 1% would typically experience.

First, you had a personal attendant, probably because you were their only customer for the rest of the day.

Secondly, they offered you a smoothie of your choice, and you got a Peanut Butter Bananrama, which was so good.

Finally, you had so many spa packages to choose from. Ultimately, you picked a Tea Tree treatment and a hydration facial.

About halfway through your experience, you received a delivery with a large black box, a medium purple box, and a black bag.

Automatically, a smile blooms on your face, and around you, the sounds of the staff cooing at the gesture have your face tinting pink.

Attached to the large box is another envelope with your name on it. The letter inside reads:

Are you relaxing, my dearest? Let me know if they are treating you like the Luna you are. Do not hesitate to ask Jen or the salon staff for anything. Once you have completed your pampering, Jen will drive you to meet me at the restaurant. I know you were concerned about what to wear tonight. I hope you do not mind, but I took care of that. Just as I promised, I will take care of you. Please let the one who delivered these to you know if any alterations are needed, and they will make the adjustments per your request. It shouldn’t be much longer, my dearest. See you soon, Seokjin

You really shouldn’t feel an emotional response from a mated man, but his words are so sweet anyone would swoon. Over your shoulder, you hear the staff mention something about being committed to a fan service.

It’s like ice buckets get thrown over you—fan service. You have seen videos of Idols treating their fans to a day of fun with them. Just recently, you saw NCT 127 make dinner for a super fan.

You were becoming a playmate. This wasn’t much different. They would be paying you to be their friend, their companion. It’s nothing more.

You continued the services you had requested. The delivered goods are still sitting untouched after you read the letter.

You had been excited, but now the thrill of the letters and the day's excitement seemed dull.

“Miss Y/n, you have a phone call,” your driver, Jen, said while handing you the same phone from before.

Taking the phone, you smiled and nodded at Jen, then waited for her to move away.

“Thank you for call… wait, no. Sorry, Hello?”

You heard a soft sigh, “You didn’t open the gifts.”

Hearing the statement, you didn’t feel the need to say anything, but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Dearest, why haven’t you opened them? Did I overstep a boundary?”

You didn’t know what was worse: the sinking feeling that you had disappointed him by not opening his gifts or the feeling that you were making him feel guilty.

“Seokjin,” pausing to take a breath, you were interrupted.

“Seokjin? I am Seokjin again. What did… Y/n, please tell me where I went wrong?” His voice sounds weak, but somehow, he is still in control.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, nor have you overstepped any boundaries,” you respond. Muttering to yourself, “Your service is top-notch.”

“My what?”

“Shit. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. I am sorry, Jin.”

“Explain,” he states, his voice a new tone you haven’t heard before.

“Fan service. The staff here is all giggly about how well you are treating me. Then, one mentioned something about how this was a committed fan service.”

Another sigh comes over the phone. “My dear, my dearest Y/n. This is not fan service. I have not, nor will I ever treat a fan in this way. All of this is for you.”

“You don’t have to do all this for me. I am just me.”

“Yes, you are just you. My promise to you and only you was to make sure you are eating well, so I am taking you to dinner.”

“Jin…” you breathed out.

“No, let me continue. I had promised to keep you happy and healthy, and spoiling you with this spa hair trip and the gifts was my attempt to follow through on that promise.”

“All this is so much. It’s more than I ever have been given,” you try to keep going.

“I want to impress you, Y/n. Not as World Wide Handsome or as Kim Seokjin of BTS but as Jin, the eldest Prey Alpha of the Bangtan pack. Can you allow me to do that for us?”

After Jin’s phone call, you finished your time at the salon. With the help of the delivery person, you dress in the outfit he sent you for tonight’s dinner. Surprisingly, no alterations were needed.

Now, Jen was pulling the car up to a very green door with a lovely painted woman’s face and the word Amore in green fluorescent lights.

The first room has vine-covered brick walls with glass ceilings, giving the feel of being outside. The booths out here are beautifully set with candles, and the room's center hangs a lovely chandelier.

Continuing inside, you are greeted by large wooden panels along the main wall with built-in wine racks, highly decorative green and white walls, and a classic bar in the corner to your left.

There stands the first person you have seen since you arrived. She smiles softly at you and tilts her head, indicating that you should turn in the other direction.

Following her subtle hint, you turn only to be greeted with a sight that steals your breath.

He is all in black.

Your eyes drop as you take in Seokjin’s appearance.

Classy wingtip dress shoes.

Dress slacks that are loose but accentuate the length of his legs.

The dress shirt with the top two buttons is undone, allowing you to glance at his collarbones.

Finally, you catch his eyes, which seem darker than usual. However, he doesn’t hold your gaze. Instead, his eyes travel along your body.

It’s like he was waiting for you to watch him as he assesses his gifts on you.

He has also dressed you in all black.

Your dress is made of tulle, and various parts have a dark silver metallic lining.

Your neck was a halter with a deep V-neck, which stopped with a cinched high waist and bellowed out into an asymmetrical high-low skirt. You had found this in the large black box.

Out of the purple box, you discovered shoes that allowed you to show off your newly pedicured feet, colored with a deep blue polish. They were silver chain-buckled sandals with box heels that matched the lining of your dress.

Finally, the small bag contained a lovely pair of silver and sapphire earrings and a matching bracelet. The silver parts looked like a flower made of hearts, with gems lying between them.

As his eyes traveled back up your body, he found his voice, “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Jin,” you say with a shy smile. “You are quite handsome as well.”

He holds his hand out to you, beckoning you forward and sliding your hand in his felt natural. His warmth even pulls you in. It relaxes the tension you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Thank you for my gifts, Alpha.”

“I am sorry about your experience at the salon. Please don’t ever feel like we are just going through the motions with you. Everything that I do and that the pack does is for you.”

“Jen said something about the staff being jealous Army and that I needed to get used to them if I stuck around.”

“Ah, yes,” he says while guiding you into a small half-circle booth. His Alpha growled in his head, still wanting to fire the one who made you doubt the night's intentions.

When you sat down, you had thought he would go to sit on the other side, but instead, he sat down on the same side, scooting you over to make enough room and draping his arm across the back of the couch.

“In Korea, the crazy ones are called sasaeng. Anyone with fame has to deal with them,” he comments with his eyes focused on you.

“Sadly, you will also have to deal with them. You may even get your own, but we do our best to protect you from them.”

“I have heard of them. Probably more often than you think. They would sometimes show up to the office either trying to apply to be a Playmate or trying to catch an Idol coming through the halls.”

Looking around the restaurant, “Jin, are we the only ones here?”

“Yes, I booked the whole restaurant. I wanted to make sure we had time to talk without getting bothered.” He gestures to the waitress that you saw when you came in.

“Jin, this is amazing. Have you ever been here?”

“Nope. It had excellent reviews online, and the chef was willing to accommodate our diets without complaint,” he said with a playfully bright smile.

He looks at the waitress and says, “Please let the chef know we are ready for the first course. For now, I will stick with water, but my lady can have whatever she wants.”

“Miss, would you like to see the drink selection?” she asks. Both of them looked to me for my decision.

“Water. Ice water would be perfect, please, and thank you.”

“Make sure the water does not have a garnish. She is allergic to citrus,” he tells the waitress. Your jaw drops at the fact that he already knows this information.

“Oh, and please make sure the chef has read the restrictions. I do not want my lady to get sick while eating here.” From your angle, you cannot fully see his face.

If the waitress's reaction was any indication, it was not the happy face from a moment ago. Soon, his attention was back on you, and the waitress was gone.

He must have caught your reaction somehow because he gave you a sly smile, “Yoon and Kook let me know of the food concerns right after Dr. Blackwell left, in case you were wondering.”

“Well, that makes sense. At least they talked to someone after the appointment,” you say bitterly.

“Did they do something wrong or make you uncomfortable with your appointment?” Jin asked, his face crunching with concern.

“Oh no! They were great and supportive during the visit. They actually helped me,” you quickly said. Looking down, you focus on the bracelet that he has gifted you. Jin waits patiently for you to continue.

“I spoke with Manager Sejin about their behavior. He said I shouldn’t worry.”

“Y/n,” he says. "What did the boys do to make you call someone outside the pack for advice?” Looking back at Jin, the seriousness of his face takes you back a bit.

“I don’t want to sound like a child, but” sigh. “they ignored me after the appointment. I don’t think they were comfortable with what they learned about me.”

You go to scoot back, wanting a bit of room between you and Jin. “Manager Sejin said that it was more of a courtesy thing for you.”

That information was like a light bulb turned on over his head. The stern face melted away to a warm smile, “Do you know about Alpha bonding time and possession?”

“The only thing I know is what Derek, my beta, said, but that included imprinting and territory domains.” Your words pulled a soft chuckle from Jin.

The waitress took that moment to bring your drinks and a lovely plate called a Caledonia Blue Prawn Carpaccio. It looks incredible with the thinly sliced prawns, some small piles of what looks like foam, and a yellow gastrique.

“Here, my dear.” While you had taken a sip of water, Jin had gathered some of the carpaccio and was now offering it to you. “I want to give you the first bite as a show of following through with my promise to always keep you well-fed.”

Blushing slightly, you lean forward and say, “Thank you, Alpha.” The bite offered is unlike anything you have eaten before. The play of textures and flavors sings.

Humming in delight, you watch as Jin tastes it as well. His instant smile shows he agrees with your reaction.

“Now, back to our jaguar and bunny. I think your Beta is pretty spot on. However, it’s called territorial dominance and not domain. You’re not a website,” Jin says as he continues to feed you bites of food while he talks.

“Oh. I knew it was something like that, but still, Namjoon said there were never any issues before. So what gives?”

“Oh gosh, how do I explain this to a non-hybrid?” He goes quiet as he contemplates.

Internally, what he is trying to tell you would require you to know you are his mate. Whenever one bonded Alpha claims a day or period of time with their mate, the rest of the pack will avoid that mate to ensure several things:

1- The called mate(s) is aware that bonding time is needed

2- The calling mate(s) makes preparations for the bonding time for themselves as well as the called mate(s)

3- The remaining mate(s) keep their distance from all mates involved for temporary scent fading

4- The one or more of the remaining mate(s) are put in charge to guard the involved mate(s) until it is time for the bonding

It is an older version of the bonding time rituals. Having all Alphas in the Bangtan Pack, this version allows the called to fall into a following-like state of mind while the calling falls into a leading-like mindset.

Sipping your water and watching Jin figure out how to tell you whatever it is, you take a note to ask Derek or Evie where you can find some reputable online courses to learn more about the Alpha sub-gender.

At the lull in conversation, the waitress brings out a tray with new dishes. The first is a Perigord Truffle Chawanmushi, Uni, and Trout Roe.

After looking at it closely, you determine it is something like a flan made with fish and something else on a plate. Next to it is this soup puree topped with sea urchin and fish eggs.

The second is known as a Comte Cloud, and that is when you have to try not to laugh because it is just a poached egg with shavings on toast: those 1% folks and their fancy-schmancy names for things.

You are 90% sure the soupy thing is raw and smells strongly of fish. The speckled flan looks interesting— until the server dumps it into the soup.

So, the only safe thing is the poached egg on toast. You quickly pull that dish closer to you and hope it shows you want that and not the other concoction.

“I guess the easiest way to say this is…” Jin watches you pull the plate to you with a raised eyebrow.

“I love eggs. May I eat this one, Alpha?” you say sweetly, attempting to get your way and not being forced to eat something raw.

“Of course, but here, try this too,” he agrees while he gathers a fair sample of the raw fishy flan dish. Bringing it up to your mouth to have you try it, you keep your mouth shut.

Looking at him with pleading eyes, you ask, “Can I skip the Chawanmush… chawamjush. That,” you say, pointing to the spoon. “Can I please skip that?”

Laughing. That was his answer to you. He laughed to the point where he had to put the spoon down or risk dropping it.

“Alpha, it looks raw and smells fishy. We just ate that prawn dish, it was nearly raw, and I am not much of a raw or smelly fish eater.” You continue to pout at the thought of the Alpha making you eat it.

“Alright, you don’t have to eat the Chawanmushi. I quite enjoy things in the natural raw state, even if it’s a bit fishy.” He watches you intently while saying those words, then takes a bite.

Why does it sound like he isn’t… wait nope. You are not gonna go there. You are going to eat your poached egg. Cutting into it, the yolk runs out just as it should, and you scoop it up and take a bite. Yum.

“Oh, good. It’s dripping nicely. It must be creamy and rich, too,” comments the Alpha, slightly causing you to choke on your bite.

Jin casually pats your back and reminds you of the water to help you swallow it.

You have got to get your mind out of the gutter.

You tell the doctor today that you have been on a three-year re-virginity plan, and now that you are at a high-end dinner with World Wide Handsome, everything is becoming an innuendo.

Get a grip!

“As with any hybrid, scents are very important to us. It allows us to identify many things. Pack bonds, mating seasons, emotions, and such.”

“When one of the individuals joining in the bonding time carries the scent of another pack member, no matter the sub-gender, it can block or alter the purity of the individual’s scent.”

Jin further explains, “Territorial dominance is not a bad thing. Since you are going to be with Bangtan now, we all want to bond with you properly. As an all-Alpha male pack, our individual Alphas can become quite controlling.”

“Wait,” you remember something from the scenting session. “The night you guys brought me the extra bedding, Jungkook wanted to scent before bed, right?”

Jin simply nods while continuing to eat the fishy soup.

“Yoongi said that Jungkook wanted to go last because he was my Alpha right now. Was your youngest mate controlling you and Yoongi?”

Jin's soft smile confirms it. He says, “In a way, yes. That wasn’t due to bonding; that was situational.”

“What do you mean? Do you guys switch who is in charge? Is there an Alpha of the Day or something?"

“No, no… The Alpha who found you in need of something was Jungkook, and therefore, he became the Alpha in charge of your bedding requirements. Yoongi and I supported him with that.”

“Okay. Okay, and I know that Yoongi is responsible for my wrist, I assume for similar reasons, but for how long is Jungkook going to be in charge of my bed?”

Seokjin, who has been fighting his laughter, finally loses the battle, and you look at him with a baffled expression.

“That is actually a question for you to ask Alpha Kook. You see, as the youngest Alpha in the pack, Alpha Kook has never had someone to take care of.”

“What about the other playmates? Most of them were his age or younger. Didn’t he take care of them like a proper Alpha?”

“Be careful with that,” warns Jin, his serious face falling into place.

“Not every playmate is the same. You are, by far, not the same. You are someone special to have gotten not only Alpha Kook and Alpha Yoon but also Alpha Tae to greet you.”

“What’s so special about that?”

“Since we are a mate-bonded pack, our Alpha’s tend to stay away from others unless there is a threat. You have never been a threat to us. What really is impressive is the fact that you met so many of our Alphas.”

“Topping it off with the fact that some of us don’t typically scent except for calming nerves, getting one of us out of Alpha Space, or during times of pleasure.”

Here comes the waitress again. Duuuddee… How many courses are there in fancy restaurants?

In front of Seokjin, she places a Colorado Lamb Saddle with a Cacao-Miso sauce, white truffle, and roasted Brussels sprouts on a bed of chimichurri.

The colors on his plate are vibrant. The lamb doesn't look dry, and the chimichurri is such a bright green, but the dark brown sauce stops you from wanting to ask for a taste.

“Did you say Cacao-Miso sauce? Did you not verify the restrictions?” Seokjin’s voice becomes dry and monotone.

“We did get it, and the chef and the rest of the staff reviewed the list several times.” Glancing onto the tray, she reads over what is written on paper.

“Ah, here. This Cacao-Miso sauce is made with carob. I suppose I could have called it a Carob-Miso sauce instead,” says the waitress, looking down to avoid Seokjin's piercing look.

“That is so considerate of the Chef to make that change, Miss. Since the dish is for him, he could have still made it with its original ingredients,” you comment, trying to ease the tension that now fills the space.

“Please give the Chef and the staff our gratitude for their consideration and follow through,” you smile brightly.

Glancing over at you, a softness blooms on his face. “If they did that, then I wouldn’t be able to share it with you, dearest.”

The endearment causes you to blush. The fondness in his eyes only increases it, but the silent coo from the waitress causes you to look away and fiddle with the napkin in your lap.

The waitress then places a Lavender Duck Breast with Carrot Puree in front of you and Endives finished tableside with a Romesco sauce. The smell was divine, and you couldn’t wait to try it.

Duck wasn’t something you had ever had before, but it was poultry, right? You were used to eating a lot of chicken, and, of course, you had turkey for most big holidays. Duck is just another one of the bigger birds that you could eat.

You wonder what Yoongi or Taehyung would think of your all-poultry-tastes similar thought process. You giggled at the thought. The sound fills the room like chimes, drawing the waitress's and Seokjin's attention.

In the silence of the room, you looked up from poking at the duck with your fork.

“What?’

“Does your food normally quack you up?” Seokjin asked with an exaggerated serious face, to which you could only giggle more.

Looking at the waitress, he asks, “Does she get any quackers with her Duck?” This caused both of you to start laughing.

“Should she be worried about quacking her teeth, or is it cooked to perfection?” he continued, but he couldn’t hold back this time and started laughing along with the two of you.

After clearing the table and refilling your drinks, the waitress leaves you two alone again. You cut the delicious food she brought out, and the taste shocks you.

Duck, in fact, is not like chicken because it is much richer and heartier. It is almost like eating a steak while still having that poultry gamey flavor.

Seokjin waits patiently, watching you take your first bite. Your moan of delight at the taste feeds right into this fixation. Quickly looking away, he cuts into his lamb and offers it to you.

Taking a sip of water to clean your pallet, you smile, “You trust them to make it without the cocoa, Alpha?”

Watching as a frown takes over his face, bringing the lamb up to smell. You wait for his reaction.

You have heard that a hybrid’s sense of smell is higher when smelling other people or hybrids, but you never thought it would be related to food.

“To be honest, it smells more like a lamb and has a musk scent. I am sorry for not checking first. I just wanted you to try it. I think you are safe, but if you would rather be cautious, then you don’t have to eat it.”

“I don’t have my Epi-pen on me. With past experiences, I would rather not risk anything. But I would love to try your Brussels sprouts, Alpha.”

“Ah yes, sorry again,” apologizes the Alpha.

He eats the bit and seems to enjoy it, but less than if you had been the one to eat it. Scooping up your requested bite, he offers it to you.

“Thank you for providing for me, Alpha,” you say before eating the bite. You watch as he opens his mouth along with yours. His eyes never actually look at the food offered.

It is a burst of flavor with the char on the sprout and the hint of the chimichurri it was served on. You hum in delight, wanting nothing more but to have another bite.

Looking down at your plate, you also desire to share with him. He has provided for you as an Alpha should, but you also want to care for him.

You know it’s part of your “job” that has yet to start, but it also seems more than that.

Deciding to follow your intuition, you cut a piece of your duck coated in the sauce and offered it to him. “Alpha?”

“Hmm?” His eyes were still focused on his plate.

“Can I offer you some of my duck?” You ask as you move the fork closer to his sight.

You watch as his eyes snap to the fork. There is a brief hesitation, which makes you second-guess him when offering him food.

You are not an Alpha.

You are not a hybrid.

Unlike offering food to Evie or Derek, you are not his Luna or of his pack.

Pulling back your offer, his hand shoots out and takes hold of your wrist. His eyes snap to you as he watches your face and eats the bite you have offered him.

Your eyes, however, glance at your now empty fork to his lips as he licks up the sauce and then down to his adam’s apple as he swallows. Finally, your eyes land back on his face.

“It tastes lovely, but was it Miss Y/n who offered me the taste, or was it Luna Y/n?” he asks, pinning you in place with his intensity, but he still has not released his hold on your wrist.

You swallow, searching his face for the correct answer. You should have kept to yourself. Your mother always said dotting on others was a sign of bad breeding.

Why did you do it?

Your scent starts to waver, pulling onto the side of the perfume, which alerts the alpha. You feel his thumb rubbing your wrist, and then you feel like you can breathe again.

“I don’t… I just..” You close your eyes and take a breath. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t trying to take your position, Alpha. I promise.”

“Y/n, look at me, please?” You listen and open your eyes, preparing for whatever he says next.

“Y/n, I am Alpha enough to know that you are not trying to take my position. I am asking because I would like to gauge how to respond to you properly.”

“It's just me, Jin. I just felt I needed to share with you and take care of you in a way. I know I am human but I had to follow my intuition. I am sorry.”

As you speak, he smiles and shakes his head, “My dear, you have nothing to be sorry for. Trust me. Remember this is us learning about each other. For you, this is also you learning a lot about Alphas.”

“Then why does it matter if it’s Miss me or Luna me? I am me. I am not your Luna.”

“They are both you, this is true. I suppose I am trying to learn how much of a Luna you are.”

“You guys are the first to call me Luna outside of Evie and Derek. I mean, even Evie’s mate who is an Alpha doesn’t call me Luna.”

“How does it make you feel when we call you Luna? Is it the same feeling that you get when your family pack calls you that?”

“Ah, well, it’s not the same. Bangtan pack has only called me after I had to correct my Omega, but no one has used it since then. Well, until now, and even then, you weren’t calling me that. It was just a title.”

“But how did you feel when Yoongi and Jimin called you Luna? Did you hate it? Did you feel empowered, aroused, or silly?”

Your mind takes you back to the balcony at your pack house, Yoongi’s soft touch and hot breaths: “Your actions were a sight to see, Luna.” Next, you feel like you are back in Jimin’s arms as he holds you. Alpha Chim shines through with a playful smile: “Luna.”

As your body remembers the thrum of energy playing at their touches, at their words, a tang of arousal filters into your sweet pea scent. The change in your scent tells Seokjin more than enough.

You nibble on your bottom lip, debating what to tell the Alpha sitting next to you. “It was awkward to hear it from them. I felt a kindling, but I am sure it was just nerves.”

“A kindling? That is understandable. Thank you for telling me, dearest. Now, since you don’t seem to understand the difference between being human and Luna you, I will drop it, but that might be something to speak with Namjoon about.”

“Thank you, Jin.”

The rest of the dinner was almost generic. It was a simple icebreaker, get-to-know-you, 21-question conversation.

You learned about this family, including his older brother, who was … still... younger… than you. You also learned more about his and Bangtan's passion for bullying, which led them to become involved with UNICEF.

While you knew he had a fantastic voice because of the song Abyss, you still took the time to listen to his development and struggles as an artist and eldest member of Bangtan.

Dinner ended with a lovely traditional mille-feuille for the two of you to share. Jin had suggested a walk around the area, to which you agreed. You had eaten more than expected, and walking would do you good.

As you suspected, the BTS classic disguise was donned before leaving the restaurant. This time, the black bucket hat was replaced with a black fedora, which fit his suit perfectly.

He also offered you a black mask, which you obliged. Once outside the door, it was clear that the fall season had started to settle. When Seokjin requested that you walk to the side, away from the cars, you smiled and felt slightly giddy.

So far, he was a gentleman.

He had never interrupted you, never pushed too far with the conversation, and even though he was letting his flirtatious sideshow, it never made you uncomfortable.

You took about five steps before the Alpha covered your shoulders in his suit jacket. His naturally broad shoulders make it easy to drape across yours, even though you weren’t a skinny minny.

The scent of cherries and vanilla permeated the air. The scent brought a sense of calm over you. “Hmm… interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” asks Seokjin, though his eyes still look around at the passing cars and people.

“I think I am starting to determine your individual scents to a degree,” you say, smiling up at him as he stops.

“You can. Who have you figured out so far?” he asks, gesturing to a nearby bench.

Sitting down, you angle toward him, saying, “I am pretty sure I know Jungkook’s, Yoogni’s, and now your scent. Maybe even Jimins, but I am least sure about his. I haven’t a clue about the rest.”

Leaning back and bracing his arms along the back of the bench, he takes a moment to think about this. If you can smell the scents, do you also smell the mate scent?

“Let’s see how close you are. What’s our baby Alpha’s scent?”

“He smells like my favorite cookie, Snickerdoodles. Well, it may not be that specific, but it's sweet, like sugar, with a spice that reminds me of cinnamon and warm butter.”

“Very good. Cinnamon, sugar, and butter are his primary scents. He would love it if you told our Kookie he smelt like a cookie. How about Yoongi-ah?

“Now his… I swear his changes.” This comment causes the Alpha to sit up with attentiveness.

“What do you mean?” His Alpha is very curious to know what scents you have smelled when it comes to Alpha Yoon, especially since humans shouldn't be able to detect changes like that.

“Well, typically, he smells like Petrichor, my favorite scent that rain can have. But the other day, I swore I smelled like a stormy ocean-like scent.”

“Yoongi, smelled like a storming ocean?” You nod and look at him curiously while he tries not to look shocked. “Whenever he smells like the ocean, it means his Alpha is out in full force, and the storm is when he is mad.”

“Oh well, okay yeah, totally explains it.”

“Explains what?”

Your eyes widened a bit before you looked down and pulled the jacket closed more. “It was when Prime Alpha made the request before Yoongi took me upstairs.”

“Ah, yes. Not one of our finest moments. Alpha Yoon was not happy. Honestly, I don’t think any of us were. What about Jimin? You mentioned you might know what is his.”

“Well, I figured out his scent yesterday,” you start, trying not to remember his physical actions. “Jimin’s eyes. The darkness stole away the white and tinged red when Alpha Chim… came out?”

“Fronted. When our Alpha’s ‘come out’ as you said, it is called fronting. Our Alphas are always present in our minds but they only front when there is something they want.”

“Yeah, Alpha Chim called me Luna. He said I smelled of Alpha Yoon but that it was okay because he is a mate, but then he asked if it was okay to scent me, too."

Scooting forward, Seokjin took your hand and looked at you with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. “He asked; Alpha Chim asked to scent you. Did you let him?”

“Yes, of course I let him,” you smile. “I wasn’t about to turn him away after what he shared with me, and it felt like it was supposed to happen.”

“His oranges blended with Alpha Yoon’s, and it smelt like I was in an orange grove after a spring rain.”

Seokjin squeezes your hand with a soft smile, “Y/n, you don’t know how happy I am to hear that Chim scented you.”

“I am glad that your pack doesn’t get upset with everyone scenting me. Jimin’s was surprising to me because of how distant he has seemed from the beginning.”

“Jimin may be a bit more hesitant than his Alpha when it comes to you, not that it’s your fault.”

“I understand. He told me about what happened.” Looking down at your joined hands, you recall the story of Seul-ki. “He also said that everyone seemed to be okay with playmates aside from Hoseok and Yoongi.”

“I bet that is hard to imagine. I mean, with how Yoongi is acting around you.”

Seokjin notices that the temperature has dropped a bit more, and though you have his jacket, you are starting to shiver.

Using your jointed hands, he pulls you up and starts walking back to the can where Jen has been waiting and watching the two of you.

“I know it's been said many times, but things have been and will continue to be different with me for the pack. I haven’t been trained to be a playmate, and I don’t know much about Alphas.”

“Don’t worry too much about being a proper playmate. I, for one, don’t feel like that title sets well with you. You feel more important than that.”

When you approach the car, he waives off Jen to open the door for you himself—still being the perfect gentleman. The action, though simple, sets your heart a flutter and causes the vanilla of your scent to bloom as you hand back his jacket and enter the car.

Once you are in, you revel in the warmth it brings. The cold from outside had penetrated you deeper than you thought—one of the side effects of having an autoimmune disorder.

Seokjin joins you in the backseat but notices you still shivering, “Y/n, are you okay? Did you get too cold?”

“I will be fine. I am used to it. I have always run colder than the rest of the world it seems like. I have Hashimoto’s thyroiditis.”

Smoothing out your skirt, you continue, “I know you will get more information with the contract but just know, I have had it for a while and am used to it. So don’t worry.”

Next thing you know, an arm engulfs your shoulders, and you are being manhandled into the middle seat. You’re angled to have your back pressed against Seokjin’s chest, allowing his body heat to warm you up.

“Relax, dearest. As a hybrid, we run warmer than humans. As an Alpha, I run even hotter. Allow me to warm you up again, please?”

With every second that passes, you can already feel the tightness in your back release. The Alpha is almost like a heated blanket at your back. Nodding your head, you settle into his hold, “Thank you, Alpha.”

As you rest your head back, you take a slow breath. Smiling to yourself, you think about how safe and accepted Seokjin has made you feel all night.

Your previous dates, boyfriends, and even your brother never took the time to treat you like a lady. Replaying the night in your mind, the Alpha’s scent surrounds you in the backseat, “Cherries.”

“What was that dear?”

“Cherries, your scent is subtle, but it's cherries, right?” you ask, moving your body enough to still lean against him but see his face.

“Yes,” a shy smile tugs on his lips. “It’s not one of the stronger scents out of the pack.”

“Sometimes the best scents are not the powerful ones,” you notice the hint of sadness in his eyes.

It stirs a desire to get the smile to reach his eyes and prompts you to say, “They are meant to comfort and not intimidate. Any Alpha can intimidate, but it takes an amazing Alpha to comfort.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the ride to the packhouse was held in comfortable silence.

Seokjin basks in the feel of your body relaxing against his, your scent seeping into his soul. Tonight was better than expected.

Aside from you confirming the things he had already suspected, he learned a little from you. You may either need to learn to yourself better or need to trust him more.

He understands that trust takes time and can be built on transparency, so he was happy to answer your questions. This dinner had more riding on it than he thinks you will ever understand.

Though he is not the Prime Alpha, being the eldest Alpha means he has been acting as the Pack Luna. His connection to you is just as crucial as Namjoons.

While it is clear that you have a connection with Yoongi and Jungkook, the mate bond must be solidified by all the mates.

It's an all-or-nothing kinda deal.

When the car comes to a stop, he gets out and then helps you as well. Ever the provider, he pulls you tightly to his side to keep you warm as you walk up the steps.

Shockingly, no one is waiting for the two of you to come home. While you look around, wondering where everyone has gone, Seokjin has hung his jacket and kneeled to help you remove your shoes.

“Thank you, Alpha,” you whisper, trying not to break the peace that seems to have settled over the packhouse.

Retaking your hand, he leads you to your bedroom door, pausing briefly before he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours.

“Dearest Y/n, taking you out tonight was a pleasure and an honor. I hope you see that I am more than just World Wide Handsome Jin.”

You nod and go to say something, only for him to continue, “Please think on tonight. How you felt going on a date with me, how it felt spending time with me, and how it may be with the rest of us.”

“I had a lovely time, Jin. I have never been treated like a lady of class before, and it made me feel special. Thank you for everything.”

“You are more than welcome. Thank you for giving us a chance.”

With that, Seokjin pulls back just enough to kiss your forehead. His Alpha rejoices as you step forward and wrap an arm around his waist in a gentle hug.

“Good Night, Alpha,” you say as Seokjin hugs back, rubbing his cheek on your hair in a small act of absent-minded scenting.

“Good Night, my dearest,” says the eldest Alpha before opening your door and backing away as you close it with a tiny wave.

Turning around, you lean against the door, your heart thumping faster than usual. Seokjin’s kiss still feels warm on your face.

Stepping out of his hold felt more challenging than it should. You weren’t just stepping out of his arms but leaving some of yourself behind.

That’s when you realize you will be a mess at the end of six more dates.

At least you have several weeks to sort yourself out before your heart breaks eight times.

Right?

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doctorbitchcrxft · 6 months

Text

Dead in the Water | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, Dean and the reader are dickish to each other

Word Count: 9338

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You were sitting inside of a diner across from Dean, munching on the last of your fries as he circled names in an obituary. Sam had gotten up to go to the bathroom, and you and Dean refused to speak to each other unless it was to start a petty fight.

The pretty blonde waitress returned, leaning over the table and showing off her boobs. “Can I get you anything else?” she asked Dean.

You looked over at him as he grinned around the pen he was chewing on.

You suppressed an eye roll, addressing Wendy. “Just the check, please.”

“Okay,” she smiled at you, glancing over at Dean once more. The waitress strutted away, and Dean dropped his head down before looking over at you.

“You know, (Y/N), we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He pointed at the waitress as she walked into the kitchen, “That's fun.”

“You can have fun when we find your dad.”

Dean went to say something back to you, but Sam sat down and effectively cut the conversation short.

“Hey,” he said. “What��d I miss?”

“Just your brother trying to pick up our waitress,” you stated, glaring pointedly at Dean.

“Can it, (Y/N).” He put the newspaper in front of Sam. “Take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin.” He pointed to the obituary he had circled in the paper. “Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure, or whatever,” the older of the two shrugged.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.”

Dean’s expression hardened. He squared his shoulders and leaned forward on his forearms on the table. “Something you want to say to me?”

You took a sip of your drink, eyes widening as you looked down and to the side of you, feeling pretty awkward.

“The trail for Dad,” Sam started, “It's getting colder every day.”

Dean sighed. “Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?”

“I don't know. Something. Anything.”

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude.” Dean’s tone was harsh as he spoke. “You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—”

Dean cut his younger brother off. “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he did so.

The waitress walked past again, effectively distracting Dean from his anger toward Sam. His gaze was focused right on her ass.

You snapped your fingers a mere inch in front of his face.

He jerked back, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “What was that for?!”

“For focusing on getting your dick wet instead of the task at hand,” you replied.

Dean went to shoot something back at you, but Sam was quick to jump in. “Alright—” he directed his next question at Dean, “—Lake Manitoc, how far?”

***

You had been driving for what felt like forever. Lake Manitoc was, in fact, pretty far from the diner you had stopped at. In between playfully bickering with Sam about the cultural impact of 1995’s Clueless and fighting with Dean over the stupidest thing, you had been doodling in your journal to keep you occupied. You were focused on drawing the wendigo from your previous hunt to the most detailed extent your memory would allow.

Most of your sketches were placed next to journal entries about the hunts you embarked on, or you wrote around them once you had finished your drawings. The drawings themselves were halfway decent, in your opinion. However, you always wished you would’ve been able to take art classes in your youth and had some semblance of normalcy. You did all your shading and drawing with black pens you’d purchased while hopping state to state. You found the process relaxing and helpful at getting your mind off the horrors of your day to day life.

Your shading process was interrupted by the Impala’s roaring engine stalling to a low rumble in front of what had formerly been the drowning victim’s home.

You got out of the car and headed up the painted green steps leading to the house. The wooden stair boards creaked beneath your boots as you walked. Dean knocked on the door of the house and was greeted by a man that looked to be about your age standing there.

“Will Carlton?” Dean questioned the young man.

“Yeah, that's right.”

“I'm Agent Ford,” the older Winchester started. “This is Agent Hamill—” he gestured to Sam, “Agent Fisher—” he gestured to you, “We're with the US Wildlife Service.” He held his fake badge up for Will to see. “Can we ask you a couple questions? Maybe see the spot where your sister went down?”

“Sure,” Will nodded. He led you and the boys down to the edge of the water. “She was about a hundred yards out.” He pointed at a spot far out into the lake. “That's where she got dragged down.”

“And you're sure she didn't just drown?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer,” Will answered. “She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

The older man sitting on a bench on the wooden dock that jutted out into the lake grabbed your attention. The following interrogation was just background noise to you as you studied the man’s slumped over form.

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam piped up.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.” Will was failing at keeping his aggravation at bay. You were sure he had already had a week full of questioning keeping the wound of his sister’s passing ripped wide open.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?”

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?”

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?”

“We'll let you know as soon as we do,” you heard Dean say. You sucked in a breath when Dean suddenly yanked on your arm to get you to follow him to the car.

“What was that for?” you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip.

“You wanna stop creeping on the old man and focus on the case?”

“I wasn’t creeping on him,” you replied.

“Yeah? Well, then what were you doing?”

“Just... thinking,” you answered.

“You can think when we’re not in the middle of talkin’ to a witness,” he told you.

“Are you that much of a control freak that I can’t think when I want to?” you asked incredulously. “Grow up.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something back to you, but Sam cut him off in an attempt to stop a fight from happening in front of the Carltons. “Okay, so. Can’t talk to Mr. Carlton.“

“Okay...” you trailed off, “So our best bet is the police station, then.”

***

The sheriff, whose name you found out was Jake, walked out from behind the desk in the police station’s lobby as he addressed you and the boys. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

“You sure it's accidental?” Sam challenged. “Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.��

Jake led you and the Winchesters into his office. “Like what?” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Here, sit, please.”

You took a seat in one of the chairs and Dean sat in the other. Sam leaned on the back of your chair as the sheriff continued to speak.

“There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah, Dean laughed, “Right.”

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still—” Jake sat down behind his cluttered desk, leaning forward on it on his forearms, “We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.”

“That's weird, though,” the older Winchester noted, “I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year.”

“I know,” Jake started, “These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“I know,” Dean told him.

“Anyway,” the sheriff sighed, “All this...it won't be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean questioned.

“Well, the dam, of course,” Jake stated as if it were obvious.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh,” Dean stuttered awkwardly, “it sprung a leak.”

You jumped in before Dean could make the situation worse. “No, it’s falling apart, remember? The feds won’t give them the money to fix it, so they opened the spillway,” you told him.

“It’s good to see somebody does their research,” the sheriff commented. “As Federal Wildlife, you should already know that.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed.

A few quiet knocks on the door drew your attention behind you.

A pretty brunette walked into the office. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

You and Dean stood up, facing the young woman.

“I can come back later,” she said, turning to leave.

Jake’s voice stopped her movements as he stood up as well. “Gentlemen— and lady— this is my daughter.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” the older Winchester smirked.

‘Is he seriously making his voice deeper?’

“I'm Dean.” He shook the woman’s hand. You fought the urge to scoff, given he couldn’t spare you a handshake when he’d met you.

“Andrea Barr,” she smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He was eyeing her up and down.

‘He’s still fucking smiling.’

“They're from the Wildlife Service,” her father interjected. “About the lake.”

“Oh.”

A little boy with shaggy, copper-colored hair walked out from behind Andrea, his head down low.

“Oh, hey there,” Dean grinned at the boy. “What's your name?”

The child looked up at Dean with sad eyes before turning and walking out of the room without saying a word. Andrea looked at Dean apologetically before following who you assumed was her son out of the room.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake answered for the boy.

You watched as Andrea gave Lucas a box of crayons and ran her hand over his hair.

“Is he okay?” Sam asked.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have,” the older man admitted. He went and stood by the entrance to the office, turning to face you and the boys. “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.” He led the three of you out of the office.

You thanked the sheriff.

Dean looked at the sheriff as he began to talk.“You know, now that you mentioned it—”

‘Oh, boy.’

He directed his attention toward Andrea, “—could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel,” she told him. “Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.”

“Two—” He feigned confusion. “Would you mind showing us?”

Andrea laughed. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble,” Dean stated, his smile bright.

‘Is he for real?’

“I'm headed that way anyway,” she shrugged. She told her father she would be back to pick up Lucas at three and told Lucas that she would take him to the park before leaving with you and the boys.

“Thanks again,” Sam nodded at Jake as he followed Andrea out of the station.

You and Sam stayed a few paces back from Dean and Andrea as he attempted to charm the brunette. You and Sam both wanted the pavement to swallow you whole.

“So, cute kid,” you heard Dean tell her.

“Thanks,” she replied.

‘Short, to the point, not taking any of his crap,’ you thought. ‘I like her.’

“Kids are the best, huh?” the older Winchester tried again.

Andrea glanced back at him over her shoulder, shaking her head with a smile on her face as she continued walking.

She stopped in front of a place that said “Lakefront Motel” in bold, white letters, contrasting with the red background the words were placed upon. “There it is. Like I said, two blocks.”

Sam thanked her.

She turned to address Dean. “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” She walked away, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

You let the laugh you were trying to suppress burst out of your lips. “I like her!”

“‘Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids.” Sam was not missing the opportunity to rag on his brother.

“I love kids!” his older brother argued.

“Name three children that you even know,” Sam responded.

Dean paused to think for a moment but came up empty. You waved your hands at him in a shooing motion before walking toward the motel with Sam.

“I’m thinking!” he called after the two of you.

“Have fun going to get the car, Dean!” you called back to him as his younger brother chuckled.

“We seriously just walked two blocks and left the car at the police station all so Dean could try to hook up with the hot mom,” you sighed, shaking your head.

You and the boys had gone to your separate motel rooms to unpack once Dean had grabbed your bags— well, his and Sam’s— making you go out to the Impala to get your own.

Sam told you that he and Dean were going to take some time to unpack and the three of you would meet up again later. You were never one for unpacking your duffel bag on hunts since you would not be staying in one location for very long. Instead, you took the downtime you had been given to do some research.

You pulled your laptop along with a few other items out of your bag before flopping down onto the flimsy mattress and kicking your combat boots off. As you blew out a puff of air, you opened your laptop to The Lake Manitoc Tribune’s browser page. You scrolled through article after article on the drownings in the town. One article, in particular, caught your attention. The headline read “Local Man in Tragic Accident” with the story of a man named Christopher Barr written below.

‘Christopher Barr... as in Andrea Barr?’

Your question was answered when you scrolled a little way down the page to see a picture of a soaking wet and traumatized Lucas wrapped in a towel. He was standing next to a policeman who you assumed was Lucas’s grandfather.

You read the article in full detail. It told the story of how Lucas and his father were out swimming in the lake when Christopher was pulled beneath the surface of the water. Lucas was floating on a nearby wooden platform at the time of his father’s drowning. Two hours later, Lucas was rescued.

‘That poor thing...’

You were no stranger to witnessing the death of a parent, so you knew how hard it must have been for Lucas. As far as you could tell from reading through loads of articles, Lucas was the only eyewitness to see whatever creature you were dealing with. This struck you as peculiar since there were so many accounts of other lake monster sightings, making you believe you were not dealing with something corporeal.

You heard a knock on the door moments later, and you opened it to find Sam standing there. You invited him into your room, and the two of you sat at the small table by the window of the room to talk.

“So,” he started, “we figured out what’s up with Lucas.”

“Yeah, I did too,” you responded. “That poor kid.”

“Yeah...” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“Back in our room. He’s still unpacking.”

“Jesus, how much shit does he carry around with him? He’s been unpacking for, like, forty-five minutes,” you scoffed.

“He’s slow,” Sam chuckled.

“Yeah, so I’ve gathered,” you retorted.

You saw Sam’s eyes drift over to your bed where some of the contents of your duffel bag were scattered. He nodded at what you assumed was your open journal as he questioned, “You draw?”

“Yep,” you replied.

“Can I see?”

“Sure,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair to grab it off your bed. You opened it to some of your most recent drawings and let him flip through them.

“Dude, these are really good,” he complimented you.

You thanked him with a smile. “I did one of you the first week I met you.” You showed it to him.

“Thanks,” he grinned. “This is amazing.” He looked from the drawing back up to you. “But why’d you draw me?”

“Well, I draw people I find interesting,” you shrugged. "You and that freaky head of yours are interesting.”

“Who are the other people you drew?” He gestured to one of an older woman from a few months back.

“Not a clue,” you answered. “Like I said, people I find interesting. Random people in bars, diners; pretty much anywhere.”

“That’s so cool,” he told you. Sam handed you the book back.

“What about you?” you asked as you took it from him. “You have any fun hobbies? Hidden talents I should know about?”

“Not really,” he replied. “I mean, I like to read.”

“Lame,” you joked, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something more fun than that.”

“Well, I liked going to the gym at Stanford and going on runs.”

“Oh, so you’re a health nut,” you chuckled.

“I guess so, yeah,” Sam laughed.

A moment passed before you spoke again. “You remind me so much of my brother.”

He turned his head to you. “Didn’t know you had one.”

You shrugged. “I, uh, don’t talk about him much. But yeah.”

“What was his name?”

“I always called him ‘Stevie’ or ‘Bubba,’ but his name was Steven.” You smiled fondly at his memory. “He was super smart. Greatest person I’ve ever known.”

Before you could continue, you were cut off by a knock on the door.

“You girls done in there?” Dean called.

“I guess we are now,” you remarked.

Sam got up and let his brother into the room as you glanced at the clock on your bedside table that read “3:15.”

“We should probably head over to the park now,” you told the boys.

“Park? Why?” Dean inquired.

“Andrea said she was bringing Lucas there at three. He’s the only eyewitness we got, so we should probably try to talk to him,” you informed him.

“Alright, let’s go.”

***

Conveniently enough for you and the Winchesters, there was only one park in Lake Manitoc since it was such a small town. You noticed Andrea sitting on a bench on the outskirts of the small field near the playground watching over her son. He was sat on the ground by another bench a little ways off from Andrea, using the bench as a table for him to color on. Lucas had crayons, paper, and what appeared to be green army men scattered on the bench.

“Can we join you?” Sam asked Andrea once you three had walked up next to her bench.

The brunette looked up at you three, smiling as she stated, “I'm here with my son.”

“Oh,” the older Winchester started, “Mind if I say hi?” Without waiting for her answer, he went over to Lucas.

Andrea addressed you and Sam as the two of you sat on the bench next to her. “Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.”

“I don't think that's what this is about,” Sam told her.

You watched as Dean knelt next to the young boy while Andrea and Sam talked about Christopher’s drowning. Lucas paid Dean no mind, continuing to color as Dean played with the army men on the bench briefly. He spoke a little more before grabbing a piece of paper and sitting on the bench. Dean showed off whatever he had drawn to Lucas before putting the drawing down when Lucas was unresponsive and decided to say something else to the young boy. Moments later, the older Winchester walked back over to you, Andrea, and Sam.

Andrea was saying something about how Lucas had not spoken since his father’s death as Dean reached your group.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Sam told her. “What are the doctors saying?”

“That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she explained.

“That can't be easy. For either of you.”

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw...” she trailed off and shook her head.

There was a short silence broken by Dean. “Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.”

You noticed Lucas get up from his seat by the bench out of the corner of your eye and make his way over to your group with a piece of construction paper in hand.

“You know,” Andrea began, “he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” she was caught by surprise to see Lucas suddenly next to her. “Oh, hey, sweetheart.”

Lucas ignored his mom and looked up at Dean. He handed the man the picture.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, looking the drawing over. “Thanks, Lucas.”

You caught a glimpse of the paper, recognizing the house in it but unable to place where you had seen it.

“We’ll see you around,” Sam told Andrea as you and the Winchesters turned away from the Barrs.

You studied Dean as he looked over the picture. In your mind, he was still a dick but had made the child feel comfortable enough to communicate by some means with him.

“What are you looking at?” Dean interrogated you gruffly, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

‘And he’s back to being a dick.’

***

You slept pretty well that night but woke up groggy in deep need of coffee. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and got up from your bed, moving over to your duffel bag. You grabbed a clean black shirt from your bag along with a pair of jeans and socks. You tucked the oversized shirt into your jeans and tugged on your combat boots. After finishing your morning routine, you headed out of the door. You figured it was late enough that the boys should be up, and knocked on the door to their room. Sam opened it a few seconds later.

“I want coffee,” you stated dryly, feeling a bit like a zombie in your decaffeinated state.

“Me too,” he answered. “You want anything, Dean?”

The older brother grunted in response from somewhere within the room.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

After grabbing the Impala’s keys, you and Sam headed over to the car.

“Is he always that cheery in the mornings?” you asked referring to Dean.

“Yeah, he’s a joy to be around when he first wakes up,” Sam responded sarcastically. The two of you got into the car and Sam began to drive away from the motel.

“Ooh, I saw a cute little coffee shop over that way.” You pointed out of the passenger’s side window.

Sam followed your instructions, and soon the two of you were off for a drive in the neighborhood around the lake with coffees in hand.

You straightened up in your seat when you saw an ambulance in front of the Carlton house. “Pull over.”

Sam did as told, and the two of you hopped out of the car. There were several other onlookers standing near the house.

“What happened?” you asked one of the older women nearby.

“Oh, the young man who lived here, Will Carlton,” she began, putting a hand on her chest, “he died last night.”

“What?” Sam asked incredulously.

“The poor thing drowned.”

“How?” You gave the woman a quizzical look.

“I don’t really understand it myself,” she laughed uncomfortably, “he drowned in the sink. His father didn’t find him till this morning.”

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath.

“Poor Bill,” the older woman sighed, looking at the house. “First his godson in May, then his daughter, and now Will.”

“His godson?” Sam questioned.

“Christopher Barr.”

You looked up at Sam, who looked down at you with a confused expression that mirrored your own.

You said your goodbyes to the older woman and headed back to the car.

“This just gets weirder all the time,” Sam commented as he drove the two of you away from the scene.

“At least now we know there’s a connection to Bill Carlton,” you reminded him.

“But what did he do to deserve this?”

“Hell if I know.”

You and Sam filled Dean in on the situation as soon as you walked into the boys’ shared motel room.

“What the hell? So you're right,” Dean said, talking to Sam, “this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.”

“Yeah, but what?” you asked.

“I don't know,” he told you in an annoyed tone as if you had asked a stupid question. “Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...” he trailed off. He straightened up and his eyes grew wider as he came to a realization. “Water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.” You were making the same connections he was.

“Yeah.”

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time,” you added.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere.” Dean got up from the bed as he spoke, his stress level seeming to rise slightly. “This is gonna happen again soon.” He sat down on one of the chairs at the table near the window.

“And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton,” Sam mentioned.

“Yeah, it took both his kids,” the older Winchester acknowledged.

“And this lady at the Carlton house said that Chris was Bill’s godson,” you explained.

Dean looked up at you and Sam. “Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

***

Your attempted questioning of Mr. Carlton had gone unsuccessfully.

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please,” the older man dismissed you. Through the duration of his visit, he refused to look up from the boards of the wooden dock. His posture had been slumped over, and his facial expression remained solemn.

“We’re sorry,” you told him before you followed the boys back to the car.

“What do you think?” Sam asked.

“Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell,” Dean replied. “I also think he's not telling us something.”

“So now what?” the younger brother inquired, leaning on the roof of the car.

“Huh,” you let out, still facing Bill’s home.

“What?” Sam asked.

“You got Lucas’s drawing on you by any chance?” you asked Dean.

He looked at you questioningly but pulled it out of his jacket pocket nonetheless.

You unfolded the paper and held it up next to the Carlton house. Lucas had drawn Bill’s house on the paper, which is why the drawing looked familiar to you.

“Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something,” Dean commented.

***

You and the boys were just inside the door of the Barr household, trying to get Andrea to let Dean talk to Lucas.

“I'm sorry,” Andrea expressed, “but I don't think it's a good idea.”

“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.

“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?”

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there,” Sam explained.

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.”

You could tell Andrea did not really think that.

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son,” Dean tried one last time.

Andrea gave in, showing you and the boys down the hall to Lucas’s room. Your group found Lucas sitting on the floor surrounded by drawings and army men. He was coloring another picture.

Dean walked into the room and crouched down beside the boy’s setup. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

You looked over at what Lucas was drawing. It was a person in the water. You quirked an eyebrow at it as Dean placed the picture of the Carlton house in front of Lucas.

“How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me,” Dean offered.

Lucas ignored him.

“You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

That seemingly touched something within Lucas, who dropped the crayon and looked up at the older Winchester.

You heard Andrea suck in a breath as Lucas handed Dean a picture of a white church, a yellow two-story house, and a little boy with a red bicycle.

“Thanks, Lucas,” Dean said quietly.

***

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean brought up as he drove along the highway. The three of you were attempting to find the place Lucas had drawn.

“There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies,” Sam explained.

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please,” Dean remarked.

You leaned forward on your elbows on the back of the leather front seat. “All right, we got another house to find.”

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean brought up, his tone once again implying what he thought you were suggesting was stupid.

Sam looked at the picture, which he held in his hand. “See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.”

“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart,” the older brother mocked.

“You know, um...” Sam started. “What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.”

“It's no big deal,” Dean shrugged.

Sam looked at him with his signature puppy dog eyes expression.

“Oh God,” the older Winchester groaned. “We're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?”

You and the boys walked up to the yellow house that matched the one in the drawing. The house just so happened to be across the street from a church just like Lucas had drawn.

You were greeted at the door by a petite old woman. “Hello,” she smiled.

“Hi,” you grinned back. “I’m (Y/N), this is Sam and Dean—” you gestured between the two boys, “—we just have a question for you.”

“Come in, come in.” She was incredibly welcoming as she allowed you and the Winchesters into her home.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am,” Dean began, “but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.”

The woman’s formerly cheery disposition suddenly shifted to solemn. “No sir. Not for a very long time.” She looked over at a picture of a smiling little boy on a table in the living room. “Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.” She turned back to you and the boys. “The police never— I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” The woman’s voice wavered as she spoke.

Your eyebrows turned upwards out of sympathy for her.

Sam nudged your elbow and pointed out toy soldiers sitting on one of the side tables.

“Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.” The woman echoed Bill Carlton’s earlier statement.

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” the older Winchester question.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up,” the woman whimpered.

Dean picked up a picture off of a mirror in the room. It was of two little boys in boy scout uniforms, one of them being Peter with his red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy,” Dean read from the back of the photo.

“We’re sorry for your loss,” Sam stated softly. “We’ll just be going now. Thank you for your time.” He and his brother turned to head out of the door.

The woman turned away, her sniffles tugging on your heartstrings as you went to follow the boys.

“Mrs. Sweeney?”

She turned to you, as did the boys, who watched from the door.

“Can I give you a hug?”

She seemed surprised by your question but accepted your offer nonetheless. As soon as you wrapped your arms around her, she broke down into sobs.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to her.

She nodded into your shoulder as a response.

After another moment, you released her and rubbed up and down her arms. “It’ll be okay.”

She nodded once more.

You and the boys showed yourselves out. None of you said a word until about halfway through the drive.

Sam was the one to break the silence. “Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.”

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean mentioned.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.”

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

“What if Bill killed him?”

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean’s eyes flickered to yours in the rearview mirror. “This is probably the quietest I’ve heard you since I met you, (Y/N). Wanna share what you’re thinkin’ about with the class?”

“Like you give a shit,” you grumbled back.

“I was trying to, but fine, keep being a bitch.”

You could not believe Dean. “What, you treat me like I’m stupid, act like a dick to me for weeks, and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you’re genuinely concerned?”

“Forget I asked.”

The Impala pulled in front of the Carlton house, and to your surprise, you had not seen Bill sitting on the dock. You and the Winchesters got out of the car, calling out to Mr. Carlton.

You wheeled around when you heard the roar of what sounded like a boat engine.

“Guys?” you called to the boys behind you when you saw Bill driving his boat out into the lake.

You immediately broke out into a sprint, yelling for the man to turn his boat around.

Bill turned his head to look at you three standing at the edge of the dock but continued driving out. As soon as he turned his head back around, the water beneath the boat sprang up as if a bomb had been blown up beneath the surface. Bill’s boat flipped over into the water, and neither Bill nor the boat ever resurfaced.

You and the boys called Jake to the scene of Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Neighbors gathered around the lake, looking for signs of Bill, the boat, or whatever had taken him down. After Jake found nothing and questioned the neighbors who witnessed what had happened, he asked you and the Winchesters to head back to the station with him.

Once inside the station, you spotted Andrea and Lucas sitting behind the desk in the police station’s lobby.

When the young woman saw you, she bounced up and put the bag that was in her hands on the seat behind her. “Sam, Dean, (Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here.

Jake looked between your group and Andrea. “So now you're on a first-name basis,” he scoffed. “What are you doing here?” He directed the question to his daughter.

“I brought you dinner,” she explained.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time.” He shook his head and moved past her to head into his office, you and the boys hot on his tail.

The sound of Andrea’s voice made all four of you stop and turn around. “I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

“Right now we don't know what the truth is,” Jake relayed. “But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home.”

As soon as the older man mentioned Lucas going home, the little boy jumped up with a panicked look on his face. He whined and tugged on Dean’s arm as Andrea and Jake tried to comfort him.

Andrea managed to get her son off of Dean and pull him out of the office. You watched the pair as they left, and noticed Lucas’s eyes never left Dean.

The sheriff threw his jacket onto a chair and scrubbed a hand through his hair as he walked into the office.

You looked at Sam and the two of you supposed you were to follow Jake.

You sat in one chair, Dean sat in the other, and Sam leaned on the back of your chair just as had happened before.

The older man leaned on the front of his desk in front of your trio. “Okay, just so I'm clear, you see,” Jake trailed off, recovering a moment later, “something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?”

“Yep, that about sums it up,” you replied.

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Jake casually mentioned.

You managed to keep a poker face on, but apparently, Dean gave you away.

“That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three.”

“See, now, we can explain that—” Dean started, but was immediately cut off by the officer.

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Jake jutted his finger in your face as he spoke, his tone harsh.

“Door number two is... rather appealing.” You were trying to keep up your plucky attitude despite your circumstances.

“That's the one I'd pick,” he said sharply.

***

You had your head against the window, legs tossed to the side of you as the hum of the Impala’s engine was slowly lulling you to sleep.

Sam’s voice pulled you out of your haze. “Green.”

“What?” Dean asked. Apparently, he had been in a daze, too.

‘Not good considering this asshole’s the one driving.’

“Light's green,” Sam elaborated.

Dean turned right.

“Uh, the interstate's the other way,” you yawned.

“I know.”

“Oh-kay—” you dragged out the word, “—so why are you heading back to Lake Manitoc?”

“Cause I think we still got more work to do,” he responded.

“But Dean, this job, I think it’s over,” Sam interjected.

“I'm not so sure,” Dean replied shortly.

Sam gave his brother more pushback. “If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.”

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean argued.

“But why would you think that?”

“Because Lucas was really scared.”

‘Can’t argue with him there.’

The younger Winchester was caught by surprise. “That's what this is about?”

“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean tried to play off his concern nonchalantly, but you could see right through the act.

‘Aw, he does have a heart.’

“Y’know, I’m actually with Dean on this one,” you declared.

Dean quirked a brow at you in the rearview mirror, but you simply shrugged at him.

“Who are you two? And what have you done with my brother and (Y/N)?” Sam quipped sarcastically, glancing between you and his brother with a confused expression.

There was a slight pause before both you and Dean said in unison, “Shut up.”

***

“Are you sure about this?” Sam looked around as you and the Winchesters stood on the front porch of the Barr house. “It's pretty late, man.”

Dean ignored him, ringing the doorbell. Immediately it opened to reveal a panicked Lucas.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean called after the boy as he took off into the house.

You followed behind Dean as all four of you sprinted through the house. You heard a splash beneath your feet and realized water was pouring down the stairs in front of you. Lucas started to pound on the door that led to where the water was coming from, which you assumed was a bathroom.

Dean pulled Lucas out of the way just before you gave a powerful kick to the door, effectively knocking it in.

Inside the bathroom, the tub was filled to the brim with murky, brown water. You jumped out of the way to let Sam try to pull Andrea out of there, knowing he would be a better fit for the job than you were.

Sam eventually managed to pull her out of the bathtub. They landed with Sam on his back and Andrea on top of him, sobbing and coughing up water. You immediately offered the woman a towel you had found and wrapped her in it.

Lucas threw Dean off of him and immediately wrapped his arms around his mom.

Happy to see that she was okay, you and the boys let Andrea have some privacy to get dressed. After she had done that, she and Sam went into the living room to talk while you and Dean looked for a connection to Peter Sweeney.

You found a bookshelf full of photo albums and began giving the labels a quick once-over. You found one with “Jake— 12 years old” scrawled across the white label of the brown cover. You flipped to a page with pictures of the same Boy Scout troop that Peter Sweeney seemed to have been in from that picture you saw at the Sweeney house. You shut the book on your finger, holding your spot in the photo album.

“Whatcha got?” Dean asked.

“You’ll see.” You walked past him back into the living room. You opened the photo album to the page your finger was tabbing, putting the book in front of Andrea on the coffee table. “You recognize the kids in these pictures?”

She seemed caught off-guard, and you felt bad for potentially startling her after the night she had had.

“What? Um, no.” She took a pause. “I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” The brunette dragged her finger across the page gesturing to her dad as a young boy. Jake was standing next to who you recognized as Peter Sweeney in several of the pictures.

“Chris Barr's drowning,” Dean spoke up. “The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff,” the younger man corrected his brother, “they were both involved with Peter.”

“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea was looking at the three of you like you were crazy.

“Lucas?” Dean’s voice brought your attention to the little boy staring out of the window. “Lucas, what is it?”

Lucas kept his gaze focused outside as he walked out of the door. Andrea continued to call after Lucas as you all followed him outside. Lucas stopped and looked at the ground and then up at the older Winchester, who stood beside him.

Dean faced Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”

Andrea did as told, pulling her son away from your trio.

You turned to the brothers. “You guys still have those shovels in the trunk?”

“Keep workin’ hard over there, sweetheart,” Dean deadpanned.

You pushed yourself off of the tree you were leaning against. “Dude, you only had two shovels and you were too busy trying to be macho and digging whatever’s down there up yourself to let me use one of them,” you protested. “So don’t tell me shit about ‘working hard.’ But by all means—” you then started to use a mocking baby voice, “—if Dean is getting a wittle too sweaty, I’d be happy to take his pwace.”

“Nope. I got it.”

You loved using his stubbornness against him. “So hush your mouth.”

He glared back at you and plunged his shovel back into the dirt when the metal part of the shovel hit another piece of metal. You and Dean both looked down at what laid beneath the ground and you helped the boys pull the object out of the dirt.

“Peter’s bike,” Sam remarked.

You heard a gun cock behind your head before feeling the barrel pressed squarely on the back of it. “Who are you?”

‘Jake.’

The boys slowly turned around.

“Put the gun down, Jake,” Sam pleaded.

Both he and Dean dropped their shovels.

“How did you know that was there?” The sheriff demanded.

The older Winchester did not answer his question. “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake, and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” The sheriff’s lie was not even in the ballpark of convincing.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.”

“Dad!” Andrea yelled, running up to the altercation.

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit,” Dean continued, keeping his eyes trained on Jake.

“Peter’s gonna get everyone you love— Lucas, Andrea— and drag their bodies god knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then it’s gonna take you. It won’t stop until it does,” you informed him, trying to keep your voice even despite the cold chill running down your spine emanating from the spot where the gun met your head.

Jake pressed the gun further into your skull. “Yeah, and how do you know that?”

“Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton,” you told the older man.

“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane!” he chided.

Dean scoffed. “I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.”

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea interrupted, her voice shaking.

“No,” her father lied. “Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.”

The brunette wasn’t having it. “Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.”

A pause followed.

“Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone,” Andrea pleaded.

No response came once again. You felt the gun behind your head drop away. You rushed over to Sam and Dean, your adrenaline still keeping your breath in a vice grip. You could see the guilt beginning to overtake Jake’s features.

“Oh my God,” Andrea breathed.

“Billy and I were at the lake,” Jake started to explain. “Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.”

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Makes our job so much easier.’

Jake’s focus remained on his daughter. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.”

Dean was done with Jake’s skeptical attitude. “All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.”

Andrea turned her head and immediately cried, “Lucas!”

You turned your head in the direction she was looking to see the little boy leaning over the side of the lake reaching for something.

You took off, following close behind Jake as you ran. You spotted Lucas get pulled into the water by something, causing you to cry out his name. You ran off the solid ground onto the dock, leaping into the water once you reached the edge of the platform. You pulled yourself deep into the lake, trying your best to make out the shape of Lucas or the spirit of Peter. You went back up to the surface, taking in a deep breath. You looked over to Andrea on the dock, and she stared back at you with a panicked expression. You shook your head, diving back below the surface.

While you did not see Lucas, you did see a boy with skin pale gray and tattered clothing rising to the surface a mere few feet from you. You flinched back, the appearance of Peter’s spirit catching you off-guard. It grabbed Jake, who you just noticed had gone into the water and began pulling him under. You sprang into action, swimming as fast as you could over to where Jake was being pulled down. You reached your hand down, trying to grab him, but. it was too late. You were running out of air, and because the water below was getting blacker as you went deeper, you could not see Jake anymore.

You clawed your way back to the surface, gasping for air when you came up. Andrea looked at you frantically, and you shook your head once more. She screamed “No!” just before splashing coming from behind you on the right caught your attention. You looked behind you to see Dean holding an unconscious Lucas to his chest. The poor little boy’s head was lying on Dean’s shoulder limply, and you and Sam swam to help him. Sam took Lucas ashore, and you checked him over to see if he would need CPR. Once you determined that he would, you immediately set to work. You were able to revive him with two cycles of rescue breaths and chest compressions. He immediately coughed up water as air filled his lungs once more. You got out of Andrea’s way and let her hug her son.

The scene before you— Andrea on her knees, crying and hugging her rescued son— was the reason why you did what you did. Seeing families reunited and given a temporary happy ending was what made you love hunting, despite how gruesome the job could get at times. You figured that even though your life was so screwed to hell, at least you could save the lives of others.

Once you and the boys had changed clothes, dried off, and packed up, you began loading your stuff into the car. Dean clearly had something on his mind, and you were not the only one to notice.

“Look, we're not gonna save everybody,” Sam reminded his brother, having figured out what Dean was mulling over.

“I know." His voice was distant.

“Sam, Dean, (Y/N),” you heard Andrea call.

You looked up to see the young woman walking toward you with Lucas, who carried a tray of food wrapped in cellophane.

You all walked toward each other, stopping once you had met in the middle.

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea smiled. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now?” Lucas asked his mom.

The sound of his voice made you smile.

“Of course.” The young woman kissed her son’s head.

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dean led Lucas over to the car, and you stayed with Sam to talk to Andrea.

“How you holding up?” the younger brother asked her.

“It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?”

“Andrea, I'm sorry,” Sam sighed.

Andrea shook her head. “You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that.”

You heard Dean talking to Lucas from behind you, and you turned around to face them as Dean spoke. “All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it one more time.”

“Zeppelin rules!” the boy cheered.

Dean cracked a genuine grin. “That's right. Up high.”

The two boys high-fived as you, Sam, and Andrea began walking over to them.

“You take care of your mom, okay?” Dean told Lucas.

“All right.”

Andrea leaned over the open door of the Impala that Dean stood behind and pressed her lips to his.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

You rolled your eyes, pissed at him for his ability to pick up whoever he wanted.

He scratched his head, walking around to the other side of the car. “Sam, (Y/N), move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

You got into the seat behind Dean, waving to Andrea and Lucas who were waving back at you as Dean backed the Impala out of its parking spot.

Once you were on the road, you spoke up over the music. “Y’know, I’m not dissin’ on Zeppelin because I love them, but there were so many other amazing bands that ‘rule’ that you could’ve told Lucas about.”

Dean groaned. “Really? You’re picking a fight with me about that?”

“I’m not picking a fight, I’m giving my honest opinion,” you replied.

“Okay, well, who would you ‘ve told Lucas about?” he questioned.

“Um, how ‘bout Fleetwood Mac, Metallica, Guns ‘n’ Roses, Blondie, Black Sabbath, need I go on?”

“I cannot believe you just said Fleetwood Mac is better than Zeppelin,” he stated incredulously.

“It’s fucking Stevie Nicks, dude, of course Fleetwood’s better than Zeppelin,” you argued. “She’s a goddess.”

Dean turned left onto the Interstate, picking up the Impala’s speed. “Robert Plant’s better.”

“Yeah, no,” you responded dryly.

Instead of responding verbally, Dean put one of his Led Zeppelin tapes into the cassette player and cranked the volume up. “What’d you say? Can’t hear you over the greatest band of all time!”

For the first time since you met him, you genuinely laughed at him. “You are such an idiot!”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireaderr @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylorr @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel

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