#<- says the girl who made it that much work on her own will

[girlbeatings]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who you hooked up with during your experimental phase in college, giving you for sure the best orgasm of your comphet life, and yet you still fall for a douchbag guy that doesn't treat you as well as you thought he would. poor thing.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that helps you get ready for your wedding with said douchbag, forcing a smile and making sure you looked the part of a future lobotomised, white picket fence house wife. she felt bad for you, you had no idea what you were signing up for by accepting this ring as a sign of your 'love' and 'fidelity'. you'd probably realize way too late in life, maybe late 30s, that this is not what you wanted.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that feels just so sorry for you, that she holds you close and tells you how pretty you look today, the happiest day of your life. "always knew you'd make such a pretty little bride.. i mean, look at you..." her voice trails off as she tilts your chin up to guide your attention to the full length mirror. you did look pretty, the fancy white dress, perfect makeup and hair. perfect.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who stares at you through the reflection and gets an idea. a trip down memory lane, before you walk down the aisle.

"this fucking dress... makes you look so cute," she mumbles, her voice slightly forced as she stares at the lewd scene in the mirror. you pant and tremble, white heels dangling off your toes and the dress bunched up at your hips.

abby groans as she watches your cunt leak around two of her thick fingers, sat between her spread thighs and your back against her chest as you struggle to keep yourself together. "does he fuck you this good, baby? bet his dick isn't as big as mine, huh."

it wasn't, you know that much. abby's fingers with girthy, just two of them made you writhe and squelch, and that fucking strap she whipped out a few years ago had your sexual fantazies in a chokehold. the way you were so soaked that it just slipped in and out of your pussy without any struggle at all, the faux veins rippling against your insides and hitting all the right spots until you couldn't take it— and what did abby do then? she held you down and made you cum over and over.

your fiancé couldn't compare even if he tried, which he didn't. you were lucky if he even looked at your clit, never mind the sort of tricks abby was doing on it now.

"my pretty little girl, all dressed in white..." she murmurs, her fingers tapping firmly on your clit before rubbing in circles, watching your face scrunch up and your hips roll against her hand. "he's such a lucky man."

there's jealousy clear in her tone, because god she wants you. not just your body, she wants your fucking soul. your dna intertwined with her own. but she can't have that, because you don't like girls.

though, your face says different when her fingers stuff you full again. your head's empty at this point, so there's no lame excuse as to why you were happily letting your best friend fuck you minutes before your wedding, your soon to be husband already stood at the altar.

her fingers curl up to find that spot, smiling when your body almost lurches forward off the bed at the singeing pleasure that spikes through you. luckily, abby's arm is locked around your waist, and you stay pressed against her as she finger fucks you just how you remember— maybe even better. she clearly had more experience now. are you jealous?

"gonna fuck every vow out of that empty head." she promises, her thumb starting to abuse your clit in time with her plunging fingers, tears starting to bubble in your eyes as you writhe.

"a-abs, i'm— mmph, abby.."

"i know, wifey... pretty pussy's missed me so much, hasn't she?" she whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck as her hand continues to work perfectly between your spread legs. you know you'd think about this on your honeymoon, you'd think about her when your laid next to your husband, unhappy and yearning for her to come save you. and who knows? maybe after a few glasses of wine with your old college friend, she fucks you until you ruin that marital mattress for good.

happy valentine's day !!

⏦ﾟ♡︎ taglist !

@uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @2012wannabe @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi @tohoko @sapphicloverwlw @shadowmythe @fict1onallyobsessed @pornoangelz @milanyas @powderpinkandsweeet @femmecannibal @aeroti @eatencupcak3 @lils-1979 @sobersonder @dozybunny @fawncritter @nahcala @lesbones @sapphicantichrist @ethereaally @ruelezz @90yearoldbear

[littelovelunette]

i'm obsessing over ur page rn because i LOVE our wifes vi & sevika 🫶🫶 was wondering if you could do (if u haven't already) nsfw headcanons for one of them? like ... what are their turn-ons, their turn-offs, what they like in a woman ... maybe even kinks ... im curious and i can't ask chatgpt these things 🤧.

I gotchu and thank you so much it means a lot when I hear praises about my writings it makes me feel really supported and loved thank you so so much and ig i already did do nsfw headcanons for sevika but ima do a new one for you because you made me day just now and i will include BOTH OF THEM

HEADCANONS (TURN ONS, TURN OFFS, KINKS) ft. Sevika and Vi

Sevika

turn ons

a woman shorter than her or in general smaller than her which is pretty much all women because cmon sevika is tall and buff as fuck

thick thighs are a huge turn on for her

being bitten harshly, not the wussy type of bites, the type that would draw blood and ache for days

obedient girlies who spread their legs whenever asked to do it but that doesn't mean she'll turn down a brat just cause she likes obedience, she will spank you raw if you're bratty

women with high sex drive

sevika gets super wet when someone takes charge when she's tired from work and would lay back and let you do the work, strong women who take charge and are mentally sluts are attractive to her

big ass

anything related to mild danger really

turn offs

being on the receiving end of degradation (baby is insecure deep down but doesn't let it show) but you can call her slut, whore, bitch; just don't insult her arm or anything about her not caring about grooming herself, age, looks and that stuff

you taking advantage of drunk sevika would disappoint her and turn her off, she wont let you touch her for days

publicly she holds all dominance and if you try to make her act submissive to you in public she'll instantly lose her sexual appetite

hard to turn her off in general because she has a high sex drive

kinks

knife play, gun play enthusiast

anal, she likes giving more than receiving because receiving it... well, sevika squirts a lot when she receives anal and she feels embarrassed about it but if you dominate her successfully and are close enough she'll ache for anal pleasure

power play, seeing how strong she is compared to her gets her off easily

breeding kink hardcore, oh she wishes she could pump you full of semen because even if she says she prefers not being with children, settling down has been a lifelong dream

bondage, should've seen the way she looked at jinx when she was tied up

mild sadism during sex because cmon, the girl grew up around guns and fights

double penetration because why not?

Violet

turn ons

seeing your mouth around anything whether its even a popsicle or you licking off the seasoning of chips off your fingers

you in a skirt for some reason turns her on maybe it's just the view of your beautiful legs

you being assertive as fuck with her, she loves it when you take control for a change and it makes her fantasize about how you could make her moan and make her feel so good

you in her shirts or hoodies makes her bend you over and fuck you in that very clothing

seeing you without a bra makes her grab your boobs in a tight grasp and bite them because they just look so delicious

loves having you on her lap and it gets her wet seeing you all pretty on her lap

soft gentle sex

turn offs

dishonesty during intercourse

idea of someone else owning you or having it with you makes her blood boil

overly fragile or needy behaviour from you turns her off because she wants you to know she'll always be there to do anything and everything for you, protect you and nurture you

disrespecting her family turns her off hardcore

sadism during sex turns her off and she won't be cruel to you during sex at all, maybe a little due to simple teasing but she won't deprive you of anything if you're a masochist

kinks

spanking, she loves you bend over her lap and crying as she slaps your ass firmly for teasing her in public

nipple clamps and she will pull on them deliberately to make you whine and cry

69 because she loves burying her face in your pussy while you do the same for her trying to keep her in place because she wriggles out of sensitivity so much

leaving hickeys all over your chest and inner thighs too so she can claim you in every way possible she just loves you so much

having you blindfolded, tied up, gagged so all you can do is take her

she loves fingering you to no end she would do it every day and all the time if she could

she likes stretching your pussy out and watching the arousal dripping down

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel It- Part 3

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Series Masterlist Here

Summary: You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

Part 3- The Rescue Mission

••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••••••••

It had been a slow, uneventful day—exactly what you’d wanted. You had spent the morning running errands, picking up a few things from town before finally making it home. Now, curled up on the couch, half-watching a show while scrolling on your phone, you were perfectly content to do nothing for the rest of the afternoon.

Then your phone buzzed.

Rafe: You busy?

You frowned, already suspicious.

You: I might be. Why?

Rafe: Because I need saving.

You snorted, shaking your head.

You: Let me guess��� Amelia?

Rafe: What do you think?

You sighed, debating for a moment. Maybe it would be good for him to deal with her himself for once. But you also knew how persistent Amelia could be.

You: Sounds like a you problem, Cameron.

Rafe: Come on. Be a team player.

You: …How bad is it?

Rafe: Bad enough to text you :(

Before you could dwell on it too much, your mom walked into the room, grabbing her purse. “I’m heading out for a bit. Need a ride anywhere?”

“Actually, yeah,” you said, already slipping on your shoes.

——

When you arrived at the country club, you expected to find Rafe surrounded by Topper, Kelce, and maybe a few other guys, with Amelia clinging to him like always.

But instead, he was standing outside, alone.

You narrowed your eyes as you approached. “If you made me come all this way for nothing, you’re dead.”

Rafe exhaled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have called you unless I had no other option.”

“That bad?”

He ran a hand down his face. “Worse.”

You crossed your arms, waiting.

“I was having lunch with my family,” he started, “and Amelia just invited herself over, telling my dad, Rose, Sarah, and Wheezie that she and I have been getting to know each other.” He grimaced. “She’s acting like we’ve been seeing each other, and I told them we weren’t, but—”

“But Ward told you not to be rude and let her stay,” you finished, already knowing how this went.

Rafe pointed at you. “Exactly.”

You groaned. “So now what?”

“I told them I was going to the bathroom,” he said. “And now I need you to help me get rid of her. And make sure my family knows I’m not with her.”

You hesitated. “Rafe, I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend in front of your dad.”

“Come on,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed how desperate he looked. “My dad likes you, okay? If you say we’re together, he’ll believe it, and Amelia will finally back off.”

You still weren’t convinced. “And what happens when he finds out it’s a lie?”

Rafe just shrugged. “That’s a future problem.”

You exhaled, glancing toward the entrance. “I swear to God, Cameron…”

Rafe smirked, sensing your hesitation cracking. “So you’ll do it?”

You groaned. “I hate you.”

His smirk widened. “No, you don’t.”

Rolling your eyes, you held out your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

Without hesitation, Rafe took your hand, threading his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And just like that, you walked into the lion’s den.

——

The Cameron family sat at a round table on the patio, the perfect picture of wealth and power. Ward sat at the head, Rose beside him, while Sarah and Wheezie chatted quietly. And, of course, Amelia stood close to Rafe’s empty chair, her hand way too close to where his arm would’ve been.

The moment you walked in, Sarah’s eyes widened.

“Are you kidding me?” she blurted.

Amelia turned—and her expression darkened instantly.

Ward raised an eyebrow. “Rafe?”

Rafe barely hesitated. “I wasn’t being rude earlier,” he said, looking directly at his father. “I was just trying to make it clear—I’m not with Amelia. Because I’m with someone else.”

He gave your hand a squeeze, and you took that as your cue. “Hey, Mr. Cameron,” you said with an easy smile, leaning slightly into Rafe’s side. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing family lunch.”

Ward looked between you and Rafe, brow furrowed. “You two are together?”

“Yep,” Rafe said smoothly. “Have been for a little while now.”

Sarah still looked shocked, and Wheezie looked downright delighted, but the best reaction came from Amelia, whose face was rapidly turning red.

“You have to be joking,” she snapped.

“Why?” Rafe tilted his head, feigning confusion. “Jealous?”

Amelia scoffed. “Please. I just didn’t realize you’d lowered your standards so much.”

Your smile tightened. “You know, for someone who’s so sure I’m not a threat, you seem really upset about this.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Wheezie barely contained her laughter.

Rose just sipped her wine, watching you both closely. “Well,” she said, “this is… interesting.”

Ward nodded slowly, clearly still processing. “Hmm.”

Before they could say anything else, Rafe let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, this has been fun, but we’ve got plans.”

“We do?” you muttered.

Rafe ignored you. “See you guys later.”

And with that, he pulled you away from the table, out of the club, and toward his truck.

As soon as you were outside, you smacked his arm. “You are so dead for that.”

Rafe just grinned, opening the truck door for you. “Relax. It worked, didn’t it?”

“You owe me.”

He just smirked. “That’s why I’m making it up to you right now.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you climbed into the truck. “How?”

“You’ll see.”

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself sitting in the bed of his truck, legs crossed beneath you, a cup of ice cream in hand, on a hill overlooking the beach. Almost a little secret hideout you’ve never been to before.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him, “this is a pretty good spot. Romantic, even.”

Rafe scoffed. “If I was trying to be romantic, you’d know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what does romantic Rafe Cameron look like?”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade.

You took a slow bite of your ice cream, then glanced at Rafe. “So… this isn’t where you bring all your girls?”

Rafe scoffed. “Please. You think I waste gas on just anyone?”

You hummed. “Mm. Seems like a solid move, though, so I must be very special.”

Rafe just smirks not giving you the satisfaction of an answer.

After a few moments of silence, he leaned back, voice softer. “You know… I never thought Alex was good enough for you.”

You looked at him, surprised. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, “you always deserved better than that asshole.”

You shook your head. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

Rafe smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

You laughed, licking your spoon. “No promises.”

—————————————

Let me know what you think? Could be some drama in the coming parts???

Taglist: @rafecameronsbaeee

@drewwhor @wtfisastiles @emmafitzzz

@yourmomdotcom42069 @yasmin-oviedo

@pogueprincesa @maybankslover

@my-name-is-baby @rafecameronsslut1234

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Just My Type

This one is for @henderdads with her prompt - accidental first kiss. Happy Valentine's Day, Cass! I hope this will bring you some joy!

Steve Harrington wasn't known for sharing his problems with others. He was the one who resolved all your issues, not brought more to the already very overcrowded table. The kids needed some stability, and as much as he loved Nancy, Robin, and Eddie, they weren't exactly fit for that role. The girls would soon leave Hawkins for college (Steve was so proud his heart could burst), and Eddie had his hands full with the whole finishing high school thing while still recovering from being nearly eaten by demobats.

No, Steve had this handled. He was the least fun of the four, but reliable. As far as the kids knew, the only issue Steve had was his inconsistent and ever dramatic love life, nothing else.

When Steve's eyesight started getting worse, likely from all those concussions, he handled it on his own. No need to worry anyone. A secret pair of glasses for home, prescription sunglasses for driving (and yeah, he looked cool in them, despite the kids' grumbling), and that was it. They didn't need to know. Everything was working out just fine. He was great at faking things.

At least until that fateful day. But we’ll get there. First, something about Steve’s love life.

See, Steve was dating around. He had been feeling anxious, unfulfilled, and the more he thought about it, the reason wasn’t Nancy for once. Even stranger, he knew he was over her, but the feeling of needing something and not being able to get it wouldn’t leave. So he got out there, used his charm, and prayed he’d finally find the one.

So far, it wasn’t working out. Most of the girls he went out with were lovely, kind, and gorgeous, but there was always something missing that made him break things off before anyone could get hurt. He had a type - curly or wavy dark hair and even darker eyes, but hey. It wasn’t his fault that Nancy had been the closest to an ideal relationship he’d ever had! That had to be the reason, he thought. Maybe his concussed brain decided that curly hair meant a good girlfriend.

“It’s not like I can help it,” he lamented, pretending not to see Eddie’s amused smirk. They had become good friends after their Upside Down near death experience, and as Dustin never failed to mention with a truckload of disgust, they were now practically inseparable. “Who doesn’t like curly hair? They’re making it this whole thing. I’m over Nancy.”

Eddie snorted and tossed his chemistry textbook somewhere towards the pile of stuff that might have included his desk. “Uh-huh. Sure thing. So this new one-”

“Jenny.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Yes. This Jenny. It’s just a coincidence that she’s a dead ringer for Wheeler.” He nudged Steve’s side with his bare foot. “Come on, Harrington. Be honest with your only adult friend.”

Steve kicked him in retaliation. “Wow, rude. I’ll let you know, I have Robin!”

“Buckley is so much more than a mere human, Steven. She doesn’t count, she surpasses our species. Whereas I,” he announced to the broken ceiling fan, “am very human, non-judgmental, and I have seen you go through half a dozen ladies of the same type since the spring break. So?”

Laughing, Steve kicked him again. “So nothing. She doesn’t look like Nancy. Hell, she looks more like you - her hair is darker, more wavy, and she has those really pretty dark eyes. And she’s tall. Are you saying you’re my type too?”

Eddie rolled over and batted his eyelashes. “I don’t know, Steve, am I?”

Steve hit him with a pillow in the face. If he hadn’t been so busy laughing, he might have just noticed the tinge of longing in Eddie’s voice.

..

To recap: the two things that led to the most important day of Steve’s life were a) his tendency to date a certain visual type of girl; b) his unwillingness to admit to anyone that he needed glasses.

Here’s what happened.

Steve, being both a good friend and a good boyfriend, took Jenny to see Eddie perform with the Corroded Coffin. Was metal his favorite music genre? Not really, but he wanted to support Eddie, and Jenny didn’t seem to mind, she even agreed to wear a Corroded Coffin t-shirt from Steve’s wardrobe.

Steve found himself enjoying the concert way more than he’d expected. The alcohol helped, sure, but it was so heartwarming to see Eddie in his element, scarred, but still the same. Steve had even learned to recognize the lyrics within all the noise, and even if he wasn’t ready to discuss that with Eddie yet, Steve considered them surprisingly deep. He really hoped Eddie would make it big, he was a wonderful guy, and life owed him big time.

After the concert, Jenny excused herself to the bathroom, and Steve went to grab some beers. His head was pleasantly buzzing, and even though his eyesight was more blurry than usual, he found his way through the crowd with ease.

He put down both beers and wrapped his arm around Jenny’s waist. He’d lost track of time at the bar, she must have come back in the meantime. And so, as they tended to do, he touched her cheek and turned her face into a quick kiss.

Steve noticed several things at once.

First, stunned gasps from the Corroded Coffin members, along with Robin’s snickering.

Second, Jenny’s cheek felt different. Almost stubbly?

Third, it was the best damn kiss he’d ever had.

And fourth, before the kiss could end, he felt something wet - the beer he’d just brought - hit his head and back, along with an angry shriek.

What happened next was a blur, and not just because he had trouble seeing it. He was vaguely aware of a second Jenny hitting him with her purse and storming off, Robin trying to control her laughter, and the person next to him, also drenched in beer? That was Eddie.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry!” Steve instinctively grabbed napkins and started drying off the beer in Eddie’s hair, on his jacket. “I...OK, not the best time to tell you, but I’ve noticed I can’t see shit, and normally I wear glasses, but I couldn’t take them with me because I look like a baby accountant or something, and I didn’t want you guys to worry. And uh, you probably know, but your hair looks kinda like Jenny’s, and I’m really sorry I did that without asking.”

Eddie was motionless, letting Steve fret over him. He was just staring into the distance, cogs turning in his brain.

Robin, bless her heart, re-directed the Corroded Coffin guys to grab a mop and a dry t-shirt from Eddie’s van for both Steve and Eddie. After that, she started ushering the unlucky pair towards men’s bathrooms, to “wash off that smell before it’s too late.” She snapped her fingers in front of Eddie’s eyes, getting him to move.  

As she shoved both of them towards the sink, she grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him close. “Since you are freshly broken up, I would strongly suggest you think hard and fast about why you made that mistake, Steve. I can’t spell it out for you, even if it would be easier for everyone involved.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Yeah, uh...I think I might know.”

“Might?”

“I definitely know.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’m so dumb. That...even if I didn’t mean to, it wasn’t fair to Jenny. Or the ones before.”

Robin smiled at him and, not unkindly, patted his shoulder. “They’ll get over it. In the meantime, your man looks like he’s about to faint. Don’t mess this up, OK? I couldn’t stand to see you brooding again and going through another set of Eddie substitutes.”

After she closed the door behind Steve, she grabbed the mop and started cleaning the mess. She could say it would cost Steve a lifetime of driving her around, but she knew he’d do that anyway.

..

In the bathroom, Eddie was slowly finding his words. “You...you kissed me.”

Steve took a step towards Eddie, trying not to spook him. “Yeah. I know it sounds like bullshit,” he said, pushing down the bitter memories of that word, “but I really mistook you for Jenny. I can’t see much, especially when it’s dark. I’m really sorry, Eddie.”

He couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but his voice didn’t sound fine. The music from the club drowned out most of the quieter sounds, but Steve could swear he heard a sniffle. “Of course,” whispered Eddie and he seemed so sad. Steve wanted to punch his own face. “Of course it was a mistake.”

Eddie straightened his back and wiped at his eyes before turning towards Steve. “Don’t worry, Steve. It happens. I mean, you should feel more sorry for yourself, you’re single again, and if Jenny or anyone from the club talks, they’ll think you’re a-”

“I don’t care.”

With a bitter chuckle, Eddie shook his head. “You don’t get it, Steve. You have a reputation to protect. Our lovely and pious citizens of Hawkins expect something like that from me, they know I’m...wrong. But you? You’re the golden boy. Steve, you should think about what this will do to you.” He wasn’t looking at Steve, his eyes were glued to the floor. Steve didn’t need a hint to know why Eddie was blinking so rapidly, why he sounded so strained.

He reached out and grasped Eddie’s hands. “Eddie. I really don’t care. I won’t feel sorry for what someone might think. The only reason I’m sorry is that I kissed you without you agreeing to it, in front of people, because...” He took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hands. “...because I wanted our first kiss to be something special. Not a case of a mistaken identity caused by my shitty eyesight. And I wish I could have done it differently, that we wouldn’t be in this dirty bathroom, and sticky and disgusting from that beer. But even if I’m sorry for not asking you, I’m also glad. Because it made me realize something really important.”

Eddie was staring at him with wide eyes, still wet with tears, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. A hint of hope. “And what is that?” he asked.

Steve moved several wet strands of Eddie’s hair from his face. He looked just a little bit like a wet rat, but to Steve, he was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. And he couldn’t wait to bury his hands in Eddie’s hair properly, when it was freshly washed. Maybe smelling of Steve’s shampoo. That was a thought.

He stroked Eddie’s cheek and for the first time in so long, he felt puzzle pieces falling in place. This was right.

“I realized that I didn’t answer you when you asked me,” he smiled and pulled Eddie closer. “You, Eddie Munson, are exactly my type.”

[call-of-daydreams]

18th Century CoD Characters - Types of jobs they have

Before we start this, I am well aware that most of this farming was not a thing in the 18th century. While I am researching to keep everything correct, I decided to add other forms of farming to make things more interesting. This long drabble does not only talk about the type of farming they do but also possible side jobs they might do.

DO NOT copy, translate, or change this drabble in any way. This is my work and my research. I've spent a lot of time researching and I would appreciate it if it was enjoyed but not stolen. Reposts and comments are more than welcome, and feedback is always accepted.

Word count: 2,325

Estimated reading time: 9 min 18 sec

John Price-

He absolutely owns and maintains a subsistence farm. He loves to provide for you and possibly kids but he also likes providing for his community. I also feel like he dedicates all of his time to maintaining his farm and expanding it to be able to accommodate his community so he has no “side job” per say but he definitely helps his mates out with their side hustles when he needs something to keep himself busy. However he mostly spends his free time hanging out with Simon, helping Simon repair guns.

Subsistence farming is all about personal use. This is the type of farming you do to feed yourself or your family but can also be used to feed your community. Mostly done for trade not profit.

Johnny MacTavish-

Absolutely owns a dairy farm and no one can tell me otherwise. He owns just enough cows to not only provide for the two of you and maybe future kids but also to trade with your neighbors that are about a mile away but you're still close to. cough cough John, Simon, and Gaz cough cough. Anyways, since he doesn’t own a lot of cows he doesn’t have to do much other than to make sure none of them go lame and to make sure they have water and are fed. Speaking of, he does grow his own hay so he doesn’t have to buy it from anyone. It’s cheaper. He also starts to dabble in blacksmithing because he found out that he can make his own gates so he can expand his land whenever he wants to for his cows to roam. Though, you do tell him to stop before he really injures himself, he tells you and I quote “It’ll be fine lass, it’s cheaper this way anyhow.” You do also help milk the cows, it saves his back.

Dairy farmers are responsible for caring and managing the milk production process. They oversee the feeding, breeding, milking, and herd management. They also grow crops to feed the herd.

Simon Riley-

He is a Commercial farmer. He grows crops and raises animals to make money so he can spoil you. Almost every week he goes into town to sell his crops or to sell an animal for money or sometimes trade. However, there is an animal from almost every species that you made him promise he can’t sell. The hen that has pretty spots and lays the brown eggs you collect every morning for breakfast, he can’t sell. The cow that Johnny sold you years ago that’s not making milk anymore because she can’t have anymore calves, Simon can’t sell. You helped him raise that girl since she was a baby, he can’t just give her away. Anyways, when he’s not working on his farm with any free time he has where he’s not spending with you he’s being a gunsmith. He’s a very well known gunsmith in town and people are always going to him so they can fix their guns or so they can sell them for extra money.

Commercial farming implies that you raise animals and crops and you sell them to the open market to make profit. It performs as a large-scale production of crops and livestock. Usually, commercial farming is a full time occupation.

Kyle Garrick-

I see him as a rancher. I feel like Kyle is the one who has all sorts of animals such as cows (obviously), chickens, horses, pigs, goats, sheep, etc. (Between me and you he definitely is the one who gives Simon's wife all the animals Simon can’t sell because he likes to rile Simon up). That’s not to say Kyle is safe from you, his wife. Because there are animals that he owns that he cannot get rid of either because of you. He simply cannot say no to you. You even talked him into letting you feed and keep a stray cat even though he insisted that the two of you have enough animals to take care of. The power you hold. Also you use the wool from the sheep to make/patch up Kyles' clothes. As for his side job I believe he’s a printer. He loves it because he gets all the town's gossip to print out and distribute but you also enjoy it because you’re kinda the first one to know everything. And best believe that he validates his sources so he asks questions. He doesn’t want to be the one putting out false information. In conclusion, he loves working on his farm but he loves gossiping and could spend hours doing so.

Ranching is a large farm for raising horses, beef cattle, or sheep. Ranchers care for and manage livestock. Thet maintain the land and equipment needed for livestock care. They oversee breeding and medical treatments of their animals. And finally, they handle tasks related to farm equipment and facilities.

Kate Laswell-

Definitely see Kate as a Mixed farmer. She likes to be very hands on with his work so why doesn’t she not only take care of animals but also crops. I feel as though the only animals you two would raise on the farm would be horses and barn cats. Don’t ask me why, it’s just a feeling I have. Also there is a little garden that she set up on the side of the house just for you so you could have fresh fruit and vegetables to make delicious meals for you and her. As for a side job can we see Kate as a cobbler?? Because I can vividly see it. She makes you the most comfortable shoes she can so you don’t have to worry about your feet aching after a long walk around town, looking at all the different items being sold. Of course she has other customers than you but you're like her little guinea pig when it comes to testing new materials or a new style of shoes because she knows that you’ll be honest with her.

Mixed farming takes place when your farm comprises at least 10% and at most 49% of animal breeding. This means that your profit is made from around half of the animal products and around half of the crops you’re selling. Mixed farmers engage in agricultural practices that combine crop cultivation and livestock rearing on the same farm. This approach allows farmers to diversify their production, use resources more efficiently, and improve soil health through crop rotation and animal manure.

Valeria Garza-

She’s a hay and wheat farmer. Hay is a very high-demand product and why would she not grow it in bulk? Why would she not sell it when there’s a drought and farmers run on hay? Why wouldn’t she want to make a profit with something that’s in such high demand? And because you have wheat in supply year-round baking has become your new favorite hobby. Especially when it comes to trying new flavor combinations. She loves coming inside after a long day of work to a nice cozy home that smells absolutely delicious. She also steals a sweet treat to taste when you’re not looking. Valeria’s side job? Something with alcohol. I’m thinking about her being a tavern keeper or a bootlegger, or both. It’s Valeria, I gotta let her keep her bad girl persona in some way. She definitely runs her tavern under the guise as something else and only select people know that her tavern exists. There used to be more, I wonder where they went-

A hay farmer will always be popular, simply because the demand for hay has increased tenfold in the last couple of years or so. The more time passes, the higher the demand for livestock is. Which is why commercial farmers need more and more hay to feed their animals. Therefore growing hay is quite a lucrative means of making money. Farming wheat is about the same thing.

Konig-

Konig is also a rancher. I’m sorry but you’re telling me that when you see this big beefy man you don’t automatically think about him being a rancher. That’s like the only type of farming I can picture him being into. Even though he is so big, I can see him being extremely careful to not hurt his baby goats or to not hurt one of his chickens. He also most definitely built you a garden so you can feel helpful around the house. After all, he is a big man. And that big man has a big appetite so it’s important to him that he has fresh big meals for each of his three daily meals. I’m leaning towards Konig being a logger as his second job. I don’t really know why, but I feel like based on his size and muscle, he could cut down trees and split logs so fast. I also may or may not be thinking about him building you both a little cabin and little buildings where you can go to do your hobbies in peace.

Ranching is a large farm for raising horses, beef cattle, or sheep. Ranchers care for and manage livestock. Thet maintain the land and equipment needed for livestock care. They oversee breeding and medical treatments of their animals. And finally, they handle tasks related to farm equipment and facilities.

Keegan-

Pastoral farming. Keegan likes to keep busy and therefore he likes to keep a lot of animals. Mostly for selling their products at the market (Most of which you make). Butter, yogurt, bottling milk, eggs, and meat (which he takes care of) gets sold for profit. Yes, you and Mrs. MacTavish have a little bit of friendly competition between you both since your husbands sell almost the same thing. However, you both help each other out, especially since her husband Mr. Mactavish keeps her with child almost year round. For his side job I can see him as a cabinet maker for some reason. I don’t know why I see this but I like to imagine that he makes good profit from it since everyone needs the extra storage space or just to replace cabinets. Plus, it would be hot watching him using a handsaw and cutting wood from the kitchen window, leaning on a counter he built.

Pastoral farming essentially refers to raising livestock and poultry for mass production of animal products such as milk, chicken eggs, or meat. The animals need to be kept in special shelters, and they are usually fed every type of food out there that can get them bigger and more efficient at producing the animal products.

Phillip Graves-

Organic farming. You cannot tell me that he doesn’t seem like the type of man to only eat organic fruits and vegetables. So, why wouldn’t he also have you eating only the best? This is more of a side job for the both of you and not a full time farming job. But he has been thinking about introducing some more animals into the two of your lives instead of the 2 dogs you two own. Phillip’s side job is definitely him being a saddler. Yes, you both own horses because that's the main form of transport and he just wants to make sure that whenever the two of you ride somewhere that you're comfortable. So one day he dabbled in fixing your saddle to make it more comfortable for you and after that you urged him to make a profit off of this new found skill. 

Organic farming is the type of food that you get without the use of modern artificial additives, like for example pesticides or any sort of chemical fertilizers. On top of that, they’re natural in the sense that they’re not treated with radiation, industrial solvents, etc.

Alejandro Vargas-

Sedentary Farming. He owns a large property and he’s invested heavily in taking care of his animals. He likes this type of farming since it is very simple and it easily makes him money. Yes, he does use most of his land just to go horseback riding with eachother but without having to go be social with other people. Not that you both don’t like social interaction, Alejandro loves talking to people. In fact, you can’t take this man anywhere without him finding someone he knows but sometimes he just wants to be alone with you spending some much needed quality time with you. Outside the house that is. Alejandros side job is being a gunsmith. Like Simon, I just feel like this job is very fitting and I can’t really think about a job that is a better fit. He mostly fixes guns while asking Rodolfo to make a certain part that he’s missing so really the two of them are a partnership.

Sedentary farming is the complete opposite of nomadic farming. Instead of moving with the herd, constantly changing your location in search for greener areas, you use the exact same land every year and you don’t move the animals in the slightest. It’s a good choice if you wish to heavily invest in an area and not worry about expanding anytime soon. It is a very simple lifestyle, but it is also effective at making you a lot of money.

Rodolfo Parra-

I don’t know why but I see him as Alejandro’s farm hand. They’re best friends so why wouldn’t they help each other out? If anything they both invested into the land so they work together to raise the animals. Plus, with the two of them, it takes the workload off of both of their shoulders so they can spend more time with their wives. And something about Alejandro and Rudy being best friends and raising their kids as almost siblings does something to me. Rodolfo’s side job is being a blacksmith. Since he works as Alejandro’s farm hand most of his day is spent making sure everything is in order. He takes up blacksmithing so he can better his job.

[redrose10]

I wasn’t 100% sure on which prompts to use, but I really hope you like it! @maryhopemei

(Underrated outfit choice)

<The Boy Next Door>

Yoongi X Female Reader. Arranged Marriage AU.

Warnings: Lots of angst but Yoongi is fluffy and tries to make it better, mentions of abuse of different kinds, insecurities, feeling like having to pay for things with sex, drinking, bullying, hints of being forced to do things

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

You were five years old. Your dad had come home on a rampage, he was upset about something that had happened at work which he then tried to drink away with liquor, but the only thing that did was make his mood worse. It wasn’t the first time he had come home like that. Screaming, cursing, throwing things around the apartment. He went after your mother first. He went after your older sister. He then set his sights on your brother. Before he could find you though you slipped out into the hallway. You stood there crying unsure of where to go or how to even get anywhere. Then you heard something.

“Pssst.”

You looked around unable to find the source of the sound.

“Over here.”, they said.

A few doors down you saw someone peaking out into the hall. You took a hesitant step towards them when they opened the door a little more and stepped out. A boy about your age, the same height, with chubby cheeks, a button nose, and cat like eyes.

“Shhh, come here.”, he motioned for you to come inside with him. You were unsure because your mom had made sure you were well aware of stranger danger, but when you heard another glass shatter inside your apartment you decided you would rather take your chances with the boy next door.

He took you inside and gave you a glass of milk and a few of his cookies he had secretly saved from dinner to have as a late night snack. He didn’t say much. Just sat there with you as you tried to calm down. He gave you a blanket and grabbed a pillow off of his own bed and then walked you over to the couch. He gave you a warm, comfy, safe space for the night until his mom took you back home the next morning. Your parents moved away shortly after that. But that night was the first of many encounters you had with Min Yoongi.

The next happened just a few years later. You were in the fourth grade. It was one of the first warm days of spring so you were sitting on a bench enjoying the sunshine and just minding your own business while reading a book during recess when Jun Park walked up to you with two of his friends following close behind.

“Whatcha reading nerd?”, Jun laughed.

You pretended to ignore him hoping he would just loose interest and go away, unfortunately you were not that lucky.

“Maybe if you had friends you wouldn’t be such a loser.”, he added, but when he still didn’t get a reaction like he wanted he grabbed your book throwing it into the mud next to you.

“I’m talking to you.”, he spat going to grab your hand, but someone else was faster, “Don’t touch her or I swear I’ll take every single one of your Pokémon cards and light them on fire while you helplessly watch.”

Jun and his friends backed away with their hands up, “S-Sorry Yoo-Yoongi.” They turned and ran back over to the playground far away. Yoongi bent down and grabbed your book out of the mud. He used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe away the dirt before handing it back to you. Silently he walked away and rejoined his friends who were waiting for him by the basketball court. You watched him play finding yourself smiling a little every time he scored a basket.

In high school Yoongi had been a little more prominent in your life although not by his own doing. He was the captain of the basketball team, leader of the student council, one year he was even class president. Everywhere you looked his face was plastered or he was giving a speech. He had a gaggle of girls that followed him around constantly trying to get his attention. In the years prior his dad had started a tech company that quickly soared to the top of the ranks making the Mins one of the wealthiest families in the country so their only son was quite the hot commodity.

In the twelfth grade a boy, Ha-Joon, started showing interest in you. He would flirt in between classes and buy you lunch. To your surprise one day he asked you out on a date. Hesitantly you accepted and as the day got closer you even started feeling a little excited. The day of your date the bell rang and you happily ran to the door and swung it open, but you were shocked to see someone else other than Ha-Joon.

Instead, Yoongi greeted you, “Ha-Joon only asked you out as a joke. I heard him talking about it in the locker room last night. His plan was to never show up at the restaurant while his friends took pictures of you sitting there alone to post online and make fun on you.”

You nodded feeling your throat close up and tears begin to form. “Thank you.”, you whispered trying to close the door, but Yoongi’s boot blocked the way. “Y/N, I’ll uh I’ll take you to dinner instead���if you’d like.”, he offered, but you politely declined not feeling much in the mood after that and not wanting to burden him. You were thankful he saved you from being even more embarrassed than you already were.

Then on your Twenty-fifth birthday your parents dropped a bomb on you. Your father’s company was failing. Your father was stubborn and refused to give up his place so he chose to give you up instead. You were to marry the son of a competitor so that the two of you could pretend to be a loving couple for good publicity and in return his parents would invest in your fathers company. You hadn’t ever planned to get married. You had very little trust in men after what you had endured growing up so it wasn’t part of the plan for you. Yet they still introduced you to your soon to be husband, Min Yoongi.

After the wedding he showed you around your new penthouse. The kitchen had breathtaking views of the city. The living room was large and well furnished. He showed you his office. The gym area. He gave you a quick tour of the bedroom and then he walked you down to the end of the hall encouraging you to close your eyes. Gently he guided you into the room before prompting you to open them.

“I hope it’s okay.”, he said nervously scratching his arm, “I went to the library and asked for recommendations based off of the books you already had.”

You spun around looking in awe at the shelves and shelves of books. A big comfy couch adorned with pillows and fluffy blankets sat next to the window. The corner of the room even had a little coffee station and a small cooler for bottles of water and there was a bin for snacks. He thought of everything.

You had never had anything so wonderful done for you before. But then a realization hit you. Most men, at least in your experience, never did anything nice like this without expecting something in return. And you were his new bride after all so of course he was expecting a thank you that went beyond words.

You started getting a little dizzy at the thought. You knew that day would come. You weren’t quite ready for it yet, but you wanted to try and make him happy.

“Umm sh-should we go to the b-bedroom now?”, you questioned not looking up from the floor.

“Well I mean it’s only like 4pm, but if you’re tired you can certainly take a nap. I know it’s been a long couple weeks.”, he chuckled looking at his watch.

“Oh so um how do you want to do this then?”

“Do what?”, he asked.

“Sex. I…You built this whole library for me. Don’t you want a thank you?”

“What?!”, he choked on air, “No no no Y/N. I just wanted to do something nice, make you a comfy safe space to go to. I…You don’t have to thank me, especially like that, especially if you’re not ready.”

By that point both of your cheeks were bright red and there was an even bigger awkwardness in the room.

“I uh I have to go take a quick business call.”, he said standing up, “Feel free to stay here or go take a nap or whatever you want. I’ll let you know when dinners ready.”, he nodded and left the room swiftly.

The next few weeks with Yoongi were practically perfect. You just couldn’t stop the fear that one day he would change and become just like every other man had been in your life.

Every Friday he came home with a bouquet of flowers for you to brighten up your library, but you assumed it was because he had done something wrong and needed your forgiveness. You’d seen your father do it a million times before, except Yoongi never did anything other than throw away the old wilting ones and replace them with the new lively bunch.

A few months later on your birthday he surprised you with a cat he adopted from the shelter. She had soft white fur and beautiful blue eyes. She looked just like the kitten you had as a child. You named her Petunia. Even though it seemed like Yoongi never came home without a new toy or treat for her (he claimed they were on sale or just somehow magically ended up in his bag) you still feared the day you would do something to upset him and he would re-home your precious cat just like your father had done after you failed an important math test.

And then one day you opened up one of the cabinets in the kitchen and three of his whiskey glasses fell and onto the counter and shattered. They were one of a kind and handmaid in some country you’d never even heard of. They were extremely expensive and he was very proud of them. Quickly you cleaned up the glass and threw it in the trash before returning to your room. When Yoongi got home a few hours later excited because the bakery finally had your favorite blueberry muffin in stock, he found all of the broken glass in the trash after going to throw away the bag. He went looking for you to make sure you hadn’t got hurt, but what he found hurt him more than any shard of glass could.

You were curled up in the corner of the library tightly clinging to Petunia sobbing and begging him not to take her. If he hadn’t known about your past he probably would’ve laughed thinking you were joking somehow, but he knew something must’ve happened back then to lead you to this state. He remembered seeing you with the little kitten around the apartment until one day he didn’t. So he sat down next to you gently scratching at Petunia’s chin and letting you know that the whiskey glasses could be replaced and that neither you nor the cat were going anywhere.

When your sniffles finally settled down he turned to look at you gently whispering your name, “Can I hug you?”, he asked. For a second you froze but ultimately agreed by releasing the cat and turning to let his arms embrace you. That was the first bit of physical affection the two of you shared and the first big chip he made at the wall you built.

Tonight Yoongi wanted to take you out to dinner. You sat across from him taking in the scenery. It was one of the nicest restaurants in the city and because they knew who he was, the wait staff put in extra effort to make the experience special.

Yoongi was really attentive. He asked about the books you’ve read, even writing down a list of your absolute favorites so he could read them himself. He asked about the places you wanted to travel to and any dreams or goals you had. It was a nice evening and for the first time in your relationship you really started to relax a little thinking that maybe he really wasn’t like the others.

But then those feelings returned all too quickly. Yoongi was talking about wanting to plan a trip to the Maldives, but he was worried about who would watch Petunia because he didn’t trust anyone enough when you saw it. A beautiful woman walked by in a tight mini dress that she was filling out perfectly. Yoongi looked in her direction as she walked by. It was slight and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, but you saw it and you felt your entire mood deflate. It all made sense now. Why he wanted you guys to get dressed up. Why he took you to this fancy dinner on a random Wednesday night. Why he was being really sweet this whole time trying to make you feel comfortable. The two of you had been married for almost eight months and had yet to be intimate together and you knew it was probably killing him if he hadn’t been getting it elsewhere.

But then it hit you again. What if he was seeing someone else? He has needs and they were needs you had refused to provide for. Why wouldn’t he find that release in another woman? He was handsome, wealthy, successful, charismatic so he probably had women lined up. If you denied him tonight he was going to be angry. He’s probably fed up and at his wits end with you. He’ll kick you out. Leave you on the streets with nothing. The last boyfriend you had kicked you out of his car in the middle of the highway because you refused to sleep with him after a dinner similar to this. And Yoongi will do the same. You’ll be homeless. He’ll keep Petunia. Oh my god Petunia! Your eyes started to tear up before hearing your name.

“Y/N how does coffee after dinner sound?”, he was asking with his head cocked to the side noticing you hadn’t heard him the first time, “There’s a really nice cat cafe a few blocks from here. I think they do adoptions too. Maybe we can find Petunia a sister. She’s been really clingy lately and this cat psychology book I read said that it could mean she’s lonely and needs a friend, but like a cat friend not one of us. Which is dumb because I thought I was her best friend, but I guess I could see why she’d want another cat running around. I mean if I was a cat I’d want another cat around to talk about cat things with.”

Normally you would find his little tangent somewhat endearing, but at the moment you were coming to terms with the fact that your marriage was over and the only decent person you’ve ever had in your life was going to be gone for good.

It all became too much and you didn’t even bother to answer him before running out of the restaurant letting the cold rain drench you outside. You felt like you were sprinting down the street, but it didn’t take long for Yoongi to catch up to you anyways.

When he did he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you, “Y/N what is wrong? I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you. If you’re not ready for a second cat you just say so.”

“It’s not about the cat.”, you cried into the air.

“Then tell me Y/N, tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it?”

You shook your head, “I saw you looking at that woman. I know what you want tonight. I’m just I’m not ready and you’re going to be angry and finally get rid of me.”

“What woman?”, he questioned genuinely unsure of who you were talking about, “Y/N I’m sorry if I did something to upset you, but I wasn’t looking at anyone. You are the only woman I’ve noticed this entire evening. You’re the only woman I ever notice. I didn’t bring you here in an attempt to get you to do anything. I’m really sorry if I made it seem that way.”, he sighed, “I just wanted to take you out to a nice dinner and get coffee. Kind of like a date. We’ve never really done that before.”

You continued to stand and cry out in the rain not realizing how badly you were shivering. Yoongi noticed though. Slowly and gently he reached for your hand keeping his eyes on you to see if you would have a negative reaction to his touch and when you didn’t his grip tightened a little and he pulled you back to the parking lot. Once in the car he cranked the heat and made sure your seat warmers were on. When your shivering finally stopped and your sniffles had almost subsided he pulled out of the parking spot and headed home.

The drive was silent for a while until he stopped at a red light. “You make me the happiest person alive, you know?”, he said confidently reaching for your hand again, but keeping his eyes on the road not wanting to completely overwhelm you, “And I never expect anything from you especially things you aren’t ready for. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I just…I just want to make you feel loved and safe and happy and comfort. You deserve it. I hope that one day you’ll learn to accept that.” The light turned green so he shifted into drive and you began crying again, but this time for a whole different reason.

“Babe, are you home?”, you heard Yoongi shouting from the hallway. The last couple of months had seen big improvements in your relationship. While you were still a little unsure at times you stopped comparing him to the prior men in your life and started accepting him for the kind, loving, faithful, patient man that he was. You were definitely more open to hugs and hand holding. Cuddling on the couch was a new normal and even in bed you tended to fall asleep tightly wrapped in his arms, but there was still one step you had not taken yet.

Tonight you were finally ready.

You were sat on the edge of the bed in the white silk nightie you recently purchased as an impulse buy. Your heart race increased a little more with each of his footsteps that brought him closer to the bedroom. All of the practice you did trying to pose seductively went out the window thanks to your shaking knees.

“Hey babe let me take a quick shower and then we can figure out dinnerrrr oh my god I am so sorry!.”, Yoongi squealed before quickly covering his eyes with his hands, “I didn’t see anything I swear!.” He tried backing out of the room, but ended up backing straight into the wall instead hitting it with a big oompf sound.

“It’s okay. I…I planned it so that you would find me like this.”, you said getting off of the bed to go to him. Softly you pulled his hands down so he could look at you. His cheeks were bright red as he fought for his life trying not to look below your face. “Y/N.”, he breathed out deeply, “You don’t…we don’t have to do this.”

You smiled and took his belongs from his hands setting them down on the desk in the corner.

“I know, but I’m ready. I want to…with you Yoongi.”

It took a little more reassurance on your part, but eventually you ended up on the bed lying underneath him as he rested on his forearms above you, his head hanging low to kiss you softly.

“Are…Are you sure?”, he asked for a final time feeling it getting harder and harder to hold back. “Yes Yoongi. I’m ready. I trust you. You make me a better person love, and I hope you know most of this character development is because of you. Thank you for being patient with me. I love you Yoongi.”, you said rubbing your hands up and down his arms soothingly.

He smiled, “I love you too Y/N. More than I can ever tell you.”

That night was one filled with gentle kisses and soft touches and sounds and movements and praises and mostly just love. A love you didn’t know existed. A love you didn’t think was possible. A love that started by that boy next door who saved that scared, hurt, broken little five year old girl all those years ago and a love that continued to work day after day to make sure she never had to feel that way ever again.

[janicho88]

Know When To Let Go Part 1

Pairing- Dean, x Female!Reader. 

Word count- 3,889

Warnings- A lot of ANGST, Dean is a bit of jerk, fighting,

Summary- You almost lost Dean to a heart attack, now after one phone call there is another threat from the past that could come between you two.

A/N-I know this isn't one of my ongoing series, but this has been in my drafts for years. The first 2 parts are a rewrite of the Route 66 episode. I'm trying to get back into writing, I promise. It's been so long since I've posted, I'm not even sure what to use for a taglist so I'm going off the last Forever tag list. If you would like to be removed let me know. Not Beta'd, all mistakes are mine

Sitting in the back of Baby, you think back on this last week, it was one of the worst of your life.  During the last hunt Dean had been electrocuted which led to him having a heart attack.  Doctors didn’t give him much time, you and Sam worked like crazy looking for some way to save him.  Finally, Sam found a faith healer, which turned into another case on its own.  Now, Dean was in the motel room saying goodbye to the chick he met on this job.  Sam was kind enough to bring her back to talk to Dean.  No, you weren’t jealous at all, but does he seriously have to meet a girl in every town you stop in?

Your parents had been hunters and would drop you off at Bobby’s, which is where you met Sam and Dean as kids. Dean was a year older, and had taken you under his wing.  When you were twelve, your parents never made it back from a hunt.  You lived with Bobby until you turned 18, then you started hunting with the Winchester instead of researching at Bobby’s. Sam was like a little brother to you, even if he shot up taller than all of you.  Dean was your best friend and as you grew up, he was the man who stole your heart.  You never saw him sharing those feelings so you kept them bottled up.  This left you standing by and watching, the constant hookups and flirting breaking your heart a little more each time.  Sam has known since you were kids there was something between you and Dean, and often pushes you to tell his brother.  You could never bring yourself to do it, and in turn, lose Dean altogether.  

You were there for Dean through everything, the rough hunts, Sam leaving for Stanford, fights with his dad, then John disappearing a few months ago which led to picking up Sam who then lost Jess.  You couldn’t imagine what losing Dean last week would have done to you.  When he was in the hospital, you came close to telling him how you felt when he was holding you next to him in the tiny hospital bed.  The two of you had gotten fairly close over the last case, but once again someone else had caught his eye. 

The three of you stop at a gas station when Dean gets a phone call and walks off.  Sam is standing next to the car looking over a map to plan your route to Pennsylvania, where your next case is. Dean starts heading back to the car putting his phone away.  

“I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here.  We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought,” Sam calls out.

Dean looks out over the car before turning to the two of you, “Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania”

You and Sam look at each other before looking at Dean.  “Where are we going then?” You ask.

“I got a call from an, uh, old friend.  Her father was killed last night, thinks it might be our kind of thing.”

“What? Who’s the friend?” Sam wanted to know.

“Listen, trust me on this, she never woulda called, never, if she didn’t need us.”

There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, “who is the friend Dean?” He just ignores you and hops in the car.

As you were driving Sam again tries to get Dean to tell him who the old friend is.  You are headed to Mississippi, which gives you a pretty good idea of who this friend is and you are livid. 

Dean finally says the name you are dreading, Cassie.  You had been traveling with Dean when he met her in Ohio, and they had gone out for a few weeks.  You didn’t like her then and you really didn’t like her the night Dean came back to the hotel drunk and heartbroken because she ended things.  She was a stuck up snob, she absolutely crushed Dean. 

“She actually had the nerve to call you and ask for help?” you exclaim. Unfeaking believable, and apparently Dean is still pretending he can’t hear you.

“You never mentioned her before,” Sam is telling Dean.

“Really?” When Sam just looks at him Dean continues, “ Yeah, we went out.”

“Like more than one night?  You actually dated somebody?”

“What are you not getting here?  Dad, Y/N, and I were working a job in Ohio, she was in college.  

We went out for a couple of weeks.”

“What happened between you guys?”

“Drop it Sam,”  you really didn’t want to dig up this part of the past.

“Was there more going on?” The dense man kept pushing.

“Yeah, they went out. She was a bitch, they broke up, it broke his heart, and I had to fix her mess.”

“Knock it off, Y/N.  That was years ago, and in the past.”  Now he acknowledges you, just to  defend her.  He couldn’t still have feelings for her could he?

“Okay.  So I’m sorry about her dad, but why would she call you if he was in a car accident?  Not really our kinda thing?” It took Sam a minute, “wait, does she know what we do?”  Dean didn’t answer staring ahead. “Dude, you didn’t?”

“He actually told the bitch what we really do, Sam.”

“Watch it Y/N.” Dean gives you a glare through the rearview mirror, and you give one right back.   

Sam looks at you curiously. You aren’t usually one for hate unless they deserve it. 

“Wait. You told her. You told her our secret! Our big family number one rule, we do what we do and we shut up about it.  I never said a word about it to Jess for over a year and a half, instead I lied to her. But you tell some girl you only knew a few weeks, everything.”  Dean still didn’t answer, just looking straight ahead.  “Dean!” 

“Yeah, looks like.”  He just pushed down on the accelerator ignoring Sam’s bitchface.

“Witch, didn’t deserve to know anything,”  you muttered under your breath.  Judging by the glare Dean sends back he still heard you.

There isn’t much talking between any of you after that. You arrive in town and Dean parks near the newspaper building and quickly exits the car.  Guess she told him where she works.  

Walking inside you see three people arguing and unfortunately recognize one of them as Cassie. One of the men leaves and the other walks away when Cassie turns to face the three of you, giving Dean a grin and calling out his name. Dean gives her a small grin.  Why is she so happy? She's the one who dumped him.  Oh she just made you fuming mad. 

“Hey Cassie.” She doesn’t say anything and they just stare at each other before Dean continues.  “This is my brother Sam, and you remember Y/N.”  

You would be pretty shocked if she didn’t remember you.  After calming Dean down and he finally passed out that night, you went to her apartment and bitched her out. Which is probably why she smiled at Sam and ignored you.

“I’m sorry bout your dad,” Dean started.

“Yeah, Me too,” she answers.

 Well, she does talk.  This staring is driving you nuts.  “You called Cassie, apparently you think you need our help.”

“I didn’t know you would still be around.” She quickly glances at you before going back to Dean, “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“Well, I don’t desert the people I care about.”

Dean glares at you as everyone leaves the building and walks back to the Impala to follow her to her mother’s house.  When she gets in her car Dean grabs your arm stopping you.  “That’s enough out of you! You don’t have to be such a bitch, you know.”

He climbs behind the wheel of Baby, and you roll your eyes before sliding in yourself. 

Cassie brings out tea when you arrive, she settles down close to Dean. She tells you all how her mother has been in bad shape, so she was staying at the house with her.  She has been very nervous lately and worried about her husband.  When Dean asks why, Cassie mentions her dad had been scared and seeing things, like an awful-looking black truck following him.  Sam interrupts to ask who the driver was, but apparently her dad never mentioned one.  The truck was always appearing and disappearing.  Her father’s car had been dented in the accident, and it looks like something big. 

You’ve been watching Dean, and have to hide a laugh when he is giving his tea a weird look before quickly putting it aside on the table. You turn your attention back to what Cassie is saying.  The sooner you solve this, the sooner you can leave this town. 

“Dad sold cars, and was always driving a new one. There wasn’t a scratch on it before the accident.  It was raining hard that night, and mud was everywhere.  There was one distinct set of muddy tracks which led from dad’s car to the edge where he went over.”  She paused trying to gain control of her emotions, “only his tracks.”

“The first accident, he was a friend of your father’s?” Dean asks her.

“Yes, Clayton Soames, they were best friends, and owned the dealership together.  Same thing, a dent, no tracks, and the cops said he lost control too.”

Dean wants to know if she has any thoughts on why the two men would have been targets, but she doesn’t. Then Sam asks her if she thought it was the vanishing truck her dad saw.

“When you say it out loud like that, listen, I’m a bit skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys do.”

“Skeptical?  If I remember right you said I was nuts.”

“If you don’t believe it, why did you bother calling Cassie?”  You cut in after Dean.  Getting another glare from the man. 

“That was back then, I just can’t explain what happened so I called you.” Her and Dean are back to staring at each other, I just might be sick you think. 

“Excuse us a second,”  Dean gets up and grabs your arm, pulling you out of your seat across from him and to the corner of the room.  “If you aren’t actually going to be any help you can leave, and go wait in the car.”

Before you can reply, Cassie’s mom walks in and she gets up to talk to her.  Dean walks away leaving you standing alone.  She introduces Dean as a friend from college and Sam as his sibling, you get nothing.  Sam sees you hurry outside trying to hide the tears in your eyes, he knows Dean’s behavior has to be getting to you.  Excusing himself he follows you outside.

“Sam, you are always telling me I need to be honest with Dean about my feelings.  This is why I can’t, he’ll choose some chick who hurt him over me, the person who has been there for him for over 15 years.”  Dean comes out and you turn away from him quickly.

“I don’t understand what your problem is, but that was unnecessary,” he snaps at you. 

The three of you head back to the motel shortly.  It is a quiet ride back, you and Dean aren’t speaking to one another, and Sam doesn’t want to get either of you going. Usually, you share a bed with Dean, but that isn’t going to happen tonight.  At least the room has a couch, as bad as it looks it is still better than the floor.

Early the next morning Dean’s phone rang waking you up from the little sleep you had gotten.  It’s Cassie, apparently someone else died during the night, same way as the others.  Dean is hurrying both you and Sam to get ready and out the door. When you arrive at the scene Cassie is talking to one of the men from yesterday.  Dean is quick to walk over, you and Sam following behind. 

“Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy’s car, see if it was pushed?”

The man looked at Dean then back to Cassie, “Who is this?”

“Dean and Sam Winchester, and… his friend Y/N, they’re family friends.  This is Mayor Harold Todd.”

“There is one set of tracks, just one. Nothing points to foul play here.”

“Mayor, the police, officials, everyone is taking their cues from you, if you are indifferent about this then..”

“Indifferent!” He interrupts her

“Mayor, would you close the road if the victims were white?”

“Are you suggesting I’m racist Cassie, I’m the last person you should talk to like that.”

When Cassie tries to find out why, he just tells her to ask her mother and walks away. 

From there Dean drives you all back to the motel room to change into fed clothes.  While in the bathroom getting ready you can hear the boys talking, well Sam at least trying to get information from Dean about Cassie

. 

“I’ll say this for her, she’s fearless,” Sam starts, Dean just humming.  “I bet she kicked your ass a few times.  It’s interesting you guys never look at each other at the same time.  You look when she isn’t and she checks you out when you aren’t.  It’s an interesting observation you know, in an observationally interesting way.”

Just shut-up about her Sam, you think to yourself. “You think we might have more pressing issues here?” Dean finally responds.

“Hey, if I’m hitting a nerve.”

“Y/N, hurry up we’re leaving, let’s go,” Dean yells for you.

You leave for the docks to talk to a few guys who are friends of the victims, Cassie has mentioned they would be there having lunch.

“Excuse me.  Are you Ron Stubbins?”  You asked, reaching the two men first. When he nods, Dean takes over talking.

“You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?”

“Who wants to know?” Ron counters.

“We’re with Mr. Anderson’s insurance company, got to dot the I’s and cross some T’s.”

“We were just wondering if the deceased had mentioned any unusual experiences recently?” Sam cut in.

The men are looking at the three of you funny so you step in, “Well visions, hallucinations.  It’s part of a medical examination kind of thing.  This is all standard.”

“It takes three of you to come down?  What company did you say you were with?”

“I’m new, these guys are training me.”

“All National Mutual,” Dean cut in.  “Can you tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?”

“What the hell are you all talking about?  You even speaking English?” Ron asks.

“Son this truck, is it a big scary monster looking thing?”  The man with Ron cut in.

“Yeah, actually, I think so.”  Dean answers him.  The man just nods.  “What about it?”

“I’ve heard of a truck like that,” he finally answers.. 

That gets Sam’s attention, “You have, Where?”

“Not a where, but a when, son. Back in the ‘60’s there was a string of deaths.  Black men.  Story goes they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck.”

“Did they ever catch the guy?” Dean wants to know.

“No, never found him.  Hell, not sure if they even really looked.  See there was a time, this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens.” 

“Thank you for your time,” you tell the men as the three of you turn to walk back to the Impala.  

The guys start talking while you follow behind. 

“This truck,” Dean starts.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam fills in.

“You know, I was thinking.  You heard of the flying dutchman?” Dean asks his brother.

“That ghost ship?  It was infused with the captain’s evil spirit, and basically part of him.”

“What if this is like the same thing here? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard’s ghost, that is re-enacting past crimes?”

“Could be, the victims have all been black men.”

“It’s more than that, everything seems to be connected to Cassie and her family.”

“It’s all, all about Cassie,” you mutter under your breath, but apparently not low enough again.

“What is your deal?” Dean turns to you, “you have been a nag ever since I told you we were coming here!  All these stupid little comments.  What the hell is your problem?”

“You really have to ask me what my problem is?  You are so blinded by what you once felt for her.  I was there with you Dean, when things ended, I know how much she hurt you.  I absolutely hate her, and so did you before yesterday.”

“She hurt me, me, not you.  I never asked for you to help me, it’s not up to you how I handle this.  My life doesn’t concern you, stay out of it!  Grow up Y/N, I’m sick and tired of your attitude.”

“Maybe it’s just time I did get out of it.  If I’m gone then I can’t interfere in your life anymore.”

“Maybe that would be a great idea.  I’m over the way you’ve been lately.”

“Fine, after this case, I’m out of your hair.”

“Best thing you’ve said all case.”

“Alright guys, let’s just calm down,” Sam tries to intervene before it blows up, turning to Dean,  “you go work that angle with Cassie and her family, talk to her”

“Yeah, I will.”  Dean throws a glare your way when he answers.

“You might also wanna mention that other thing.”

“What other thing?”

“The unfinished business between you two. Dean, what is going on between you?”

You can’t listen so you walk away to calm yourself down.

“Maybe, we were a bit more involved than I said before.” Sam just stares at him.  “Okay so a lot more. I told her our secret, what’s out there and what we do.  I shouldn’t have.”

“Come on man, everyone needs to open up to someone at some point.”

“No, I don’t.  It was stupid of me to get that close. Just look how it ended.”

“Is that what’s wrong with Y/N?  How bad this thing ended with you and Cassie?”

“I don’t know what the hell her problem is, but she needs to get over it fast.”

“Did you love her?”

“Y/N? She’s my best friend, dude I can’t.”

“I meant Cassie, but good to know your mind goes there first.”

“No, didn’t. I’m leaving.”

“You did love her, and you dumped her.”  Sam watches Dean for a minute, “Wait, she dumped you?”

Dean walked over to the Impala’s door, “Just get in the car, get in the car.”

“What about Y/N?”  Sam asks, getting in and looking around for you.

“She can walk back, maybe it will cool her down.”

You walked around the corner trying to calm yourself down and keep the tears at bay.   When you are turning to go back you see the Impala speed by.  They seriously left you here?  Dean really did want you gone. Looking down, you are glad you didn’t grab the heeled shoes, at least this pair wasn't awful for walking. 

You turn back around and start the thirty minute walk to the motel.  This time you can’t stop the tears from falling.  You have loved Dean for years, and been his best friend even longer.  You want to be there for Dean. You were best friends, wasn’t that how it was supposed to be?  If you  are honest with yourself, you would know it was more than that, he was it for you.  It was clear lately, you're not the one for him.  Apparently you mean nothing to him.  Years ago, when he was hurt by Cassie, he changed and didn’t let anyone, even you get as close as he used to.  Maybe you should get your own room tonight, and start adjusting to being on your own.  This case couldn’t wrap up fast enough for you to get out of this town. 

You arrive back at the motel and the Impala is nowhere to be seen.  Either they aren’t back yet, or Dean dropped Sam off and went to her.  Heading to the room you plan to grab your things and get another room.  Opening the door you think you are alone, until Sam walks out of the bathroom. 

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re back, I’m sorry Dean left without you.”

“Don’t worry about it Sam, he obviously isn’t.

”

“What is going on with you two?”

“I think we have just had enough of each other.”

“It’s more than that.”

You let out a sigh before turning to sit on the bed.  “Dean doesn’t think straight around Cassie, he never has.  I don’t want to see him hurt again, because I know she will.  He changed the minute he got her call.”

“When are you going to tell my brother you are in love with him?”

“I’m not Sam, I told you last night, he doesn’t share those feelings.  Hell, he wants me gone, out of his life, and maybe that isn’t a bad idea.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our friendship is barely hanging on by a thread, I’m not going to cut that final one by telling him how I feel.  He wouldn’t wait for this case to even be over before he made me leave.  It’s clear I’ve overstayed my welcome with you two.”  

“No, you haven’t.  I think we all just need a break after this.  You and Dean aren’t thinking straight right now.”

“I’m going to grab another room. I don’t think we need the three of us in one tonight.”

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“It would be better if...”

“No,” Sam cuts you off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, but Dean is with Cassie, we need to figure out how this relates back to her family. I don’t know when he’ll even get back tonight, so don’t worry about another room. Everything will be back to normal in a day or two.”

“Sam, I’m leaving when this case is over.  I need to be on my own for a bit.  You will always be my not so little, little brother, but I can’t stay around him anymore.

Y/N, come on.  It’s just a fight, you guys will be fine in a few days.

“I’m going to hit the shower.”  You don’t want him to try and talk you out of this decision.  

Walking into the bathroom you quickly turn on the water so Sam won’t hear you cry.  After 18 years of friendship this is where you finally part ways from the man who has been there for you since he was 8 years old. Dean doesn’t want you around and you can’t keep watching him sleep with all those other women.  The knife in your chest twists a little more every time.  Getting out of the shower you get ready for bed, sleeping on the couch again because you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep in the bed that smells like Dean, even if it would be the last time.  You know Sam is asleep and you don’t fight the tears that surface once again.

Part 2-coming soon

Thank you for reading!

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[imsogonesposts]

The Odds are Never in Our Favor

|| ao3 || Finnick masterlist || requests are open!! || an: angst angst angst angst ||

summary: Finnick worries that you may be reaped for the Hunger Games during your final year in the reaping bowl. (wc: 1450)

Finnick was used to things not going his way. If things ever were to go his way, then he certainly wouldn't have been forced into the Hunger Games at the age of fourteen- and be one of the youngest to win the games. He also definitely wouldn't have been forced into some of the things that many victors were forced to do after winning their own games. 

Regardless, Finnick was thankful for many things. He had many great friends, his family was still alive and well, and he had an amazing girlfriend. A girlfriend who, thank the heavens, has yet to be reaped for the Hunger Games. 

Finnick wasn't sure what he would do if you were ever to get reaped for the games. He didn't think he could handle being your mentor, helping to train you only to lie awake at night, praying to any god he could think of that you'd make it out of the arena. It was already hard enough leading strangers to their deaths, he couldn't imagine having to do the same with you- the love of his life, the girl of his dreams. 

"Stop worrying so much," you reassured him with a smile, morning of the reaping, "it's my last year in the reaping pile, I doubt they'll pick me." 

Finnick wanted to believe you. He wanted to smile and admit that you were right, the chances of you getting picked were slim to none, and yet, he knew in the back of his head that many kids got reaped during their last year, the girl tribute from his year was eighteen, for example. He remembers her telling him how happy she was to finally have to stop worrying if she was next, only for her to end up getting called up her last year. No matter how much the Capitol wanted to say it, the odds were simply never in the favor of the citizens of Panem. 

"You're right," he replied with a false smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "There are other kids with their name in the bowl far more times than you," like Coil, Finnick's childhood best friend. On top of worrying for you, Finnick was also worried for his friend Coil, whose name was in the reaping bowl forty times. Like you, this was his last year in the reaping bowl, and like with you, Finnick was worried that the odds wouldn't be in his favor and that Coil would get reaped. Finnick wished he could rid these thoughts from his brain, but alas, worry got the best of him. 

Just a few more hours until the reaping is over and you can celebrate, he told himself, though he wasn't sure how well the mantra was working for him. He couldn't help but have a knot in his stomach, a small part of him knowing something would go wrong, he just wasn't sure what that something was yet. 

"Exactly," you told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm only in there seven times, that's basically nothing." 

Yes, but when Finnick got reaped, his name was only there three times, and he still managed to get picked. 

"Yeah," Finnick whispered, giving you a short but sweet kiss. "Nothing."

***

Through the corner of his eye, Finnick caught you waving at him through the throng of potential tributes. He always liked to think you would always be the first thing he'd spot in a room, no matter what. He gave you a small nod, wishing he could smile back, but he had an image to upkeep for the Capitol. One he hated, but if it kept the people he cared about safe, then he could make do. 

He watched as Coral Steelwater, the District 4 escort, made her way across the stage. As she reached the microphone, she made the same speech she made every year. Speaking of the "importance" of the Hunger Games and talking about the past victors. Truthfully, it was going in one ear and out the other for Finnick. He could only stare at her bright blue wig as he prayed and prayed and prayed that you'd be safe. That you and all his friends would be safe another year, and that none of you would have to worry about the Hunger Games ever again. That none of you would have ever experience what he went through at such a young age. 

"Ladies first," Coral announced, finally breaking Finnick out of his endless trance. He watched as she made her way across the stage, reaching a hand into the big glass bowl as she pulled a name out from the top. 

And suddenly, Finnick felt himself go white as the entire crowd went silent before a hushed whisper fell over the crowd. He began pinching his side as you made your way up to the stage, the color lost on your face. He kept pinching himself, hoping this was all a stupid nightmare and that when he woke up, he could go to your house to see you alive and well. 

But he wasn't waking up. And you were finally on the stage, looking out into the crowd. Finnick felt a knot in his stomach grow. He didn't think he could do this- train you, try his best to get you out of the arena. He couldn't watch you die, he knew that would be the thing to finally break him. Years of pain and torture from the Capitol to keep the people he loved safe, and now you were getting thrown into the lion's den. Nothing about this was fair. Finnick felt like he was going to be sick. 

"And now for our boy tribute!" Coral said in an all too excited tone. Nothing about the Hunger Games was ever exciting, certainly not to him. Not with you in that arena, fighting for your life. But, he knew the people in the Capitol were eating this up. Your and Finnick's relationship was never much of a secret, he knew the Capitol was probably going crazy over a past Victor's girlfriend going into the arena. Especially with the fact that he would have to mentor you. He wasn't sure he had the stomach for this. 

Coral made her way across the other side of the stage, towards the bowl with the boy tribute names, and yet, he could barely keep his eyes off you. He couldn't let you die, he knew that. He just wasn't sure how he could protect you when you were in the arena and he was in the Capitol. 

The name Coral called suddenly pulled Finnick out of his thoughts. He could feel himself get sick all over again as he looked out into the crowd, seeing a look of shock and horror on his friend's face. 

"Coil Oceanway, dear, please come on stage," Coral announced in the microphone as he slowly made his way towards the stage. Finnick wasn't sure how he hadn't managed to throw up all over the stage. Not only was he to mentor you, the girl he had been crushing on since he was a little kid, that he finally got to be with, but he was also to mentor his life-long childhood best friend. And not only that, but the both of you couldn't make it out of the games alive. If he ever wanted to see one of you again, he would have to give up the other. He would have to watch one of you die. 

Finnick tried his best to keep a look of composure as you and Coil shook hands, the tributes of District 4. But he wasn't sure if he was doing a very good job. He wouldn't be too surprised if somehow, President Snow had something to do with the reaping this year. It certainly would make for a great story, it'd help keep people invested in the Hunger Games. "The Capitol Darling forced to mentor his girlfriend and childhood best friend, and watch one of them die!" He felt nauseous. 

The Capitol truly was a sick, cruel place. Finnick watched as the peacekeepers took you and Coil away, to the Justice building so you could say your final goodbyes to your family- they had done the same thing with him when he played his games- and he could hardly find it within himself to move. He didn't know how he could face your family, nor Coil's. He didn't know how he was going to be forced to mentor the two of you. He didn't know how he would be able to stomach watching either of you die. 

One thing was certain though, the odds were never in his favor. 

[thelonestarinthesky]

⁵. ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ

⁺₊✦₊　　

pairing: senku x f!reader

cw: death, inspired by the satosugu break up scene

chapter 5- 2/2- i. senku

⁺₊✦₊　　

Death is a normal part of life; every single human being on earth will reach that end no matter how much they try to escape its grasp.

Senku sits in the large room. It's quiet, of that usual chattering, and only the sounds of muffled cries and sniffles are heard.

He looks towards the front of the room. [Name] sat beside her father; she wasn't doing well, and the distant, dull look in her eyes and the dark bags underneath it showed her well-being. The black kimono she wore shuffles slightly at her movement. Her father gently rubs her back and brings her back into another hug.

The boy feels his throat clench slightly before looking back down. Byakuya, who was sitting beside him, stands up and heads over to the pair.

"Please, accept our condolences." He hears the old man say them before hugging [Name] who hugs him back, her hands clenching onto Byakuya tightly.

Senku isn't quite sure how to comfort her, especially when it comes to something like death.

After a couple of hours, Senku and Byakuya get ready to leave, "I hope...[Name] feels better. This is hard on everyone." Byakuya tells [Name]'s father, who just nods, smiling sadly as the three look at [Name], who hasn't moved from her spot, her head bowed in front of the alter, the small robot held in her arms tightly, kneeling on the floor.

"We'll be going all night." Senku looks at her dad.

"We'll come to the funeral ceremony."

The two men speak among themselves more, Senku was debating if he should go to [Name] and try to offer some words of comfort.

He felt a hand on his head; it was her father, "Go. She needs you." He says to him, the way her dad is smiling slightly, clearly trying to be strong for his daughter.

Without a word, he slowly walks over to the [H/C] haired girl, sitting down beside her.

It didn't even seem like she realized his presence, clearly in a daze, until he called out to her.

She slowly looks up, and his heart drops slightly upon seeing the girl look so....defeated, the tear stains and the puffy eyes....he can't stand to see her like this.

He gently caresses her face, and this makes her break down again; tears swell in her eyes as he wraps his arms around her, cradling her close, as she cries, face buried in his black clothes; hearing those cries of pure sadness makes his own start to tear up.

And for once in his life, he cried slightly with her.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

It's been around three months or so. [Name] sat in his room, watching as he worked on his next science experiment; she's been staying at his home more these last few weeks.

She hasn't been herself since the day of the funeral. He gets it, but...

"Hey, it would be great if you could make me a robot." [Name] looks away from his experiment to look in his eyes. "Like a robot assistant." He thinks out loud.

The girl looks away at this, clearly fidgeting nervously.

"...I....I'm not sure, I don't think my robots are that good. I can ask my dad for the latest one for you instead." She says quietly.

He hadn't seen her work on her blueprints nor asked him for help on certain things.

"How so? Since you have access to the latest technology, your robots are high-tech." He says, picking his ear.

[Name] bit her lip, gripping her shoulder as she refused to look him in the eyes.

Senku blinked, seeing the expression she was making; those dark eye bags of hers never went away, and she looked pale. "....[name]?" He calls out quietly; he stops what he's doing and goes over to her.

The girl purses her lips tightly. "....my robots won't help you. It didn't help Grandpa Joel."

Her voice cracks at this.

Senku's brows furrow at this. "You made that robot to help him with his memory, not his health. You didn't know he was going to collapse in the garden." He says to her.

"I should've added that to the robot before giving it to him." She says, hugging herself. "I should've known at his age that—"

Senku sighs, "Get over it. How were you supposed to know?" He says frustrated.

The [H/C] haired girl froze at this, clearly not expecting him to be blunt about death itself.

"Grandpa Joel is dead, and you're telling me to get over it?" She stands up suddenly, tearing up.

The white-green-haired boy looks up at her, "I didn't mean it like that, you know that. What I'm trying to say is that moping around isn't going to help."

He stands up as well, clearly annoyed and frustrated. Senku knows she's grieving, but the old man wouldn't want her to give up on her passion.

"Grandpa Joel wouldn't want you to just give up and bury yourself in sadness." He tries to reason with her.

"How would you know what he wants for me? He wasn't your family; he was mine, and I failed him with my stupid robot that didn't even work when something serious happened."

She yells at him, her eyes getting blurry with tears.

"Everyone dies. It's the natural cycle of life."

[Name]'s hand turns into a fist as she tries not to cry in front of him, "him. You, me, everyone is bound to die, so get it through that thick head of yours and stop thinking his death was your fault!" Senku says to her, clearly getting frustrated with this whole situation.

Downstairs, Byakuya looks towards the stairs leading upstairs, hearing the shouting get louder. He gets up and heads over to Senku's science room. He knocks before opening the door. He stares at the scene; the two are arguing, something he's never seen since they met years ago.

Suddenly, Senku says something out of pocket, being blunt as he usually is, but [Name] doesn't think so.

A loud smack is heard as tears roll down her face as she turns and runs out of the room, leaving Senku standing there, holding his red cheek as Byakuya stares at him.

࿐⸻༺ ෆ ༻⸻࿐

It's been around a month since [Name] went back to being homeschooled, and she has completely been avoiding him and everyone else.

He's been grounded, too; after Byakuya asked what happened, he was disappointed with Senku, saying that people grieve in many ways and his words were extremely hurtful to [Name], who was clearly hurting badly.

"I think you should apologize," Taiju says. He, Senku, and Yuzuriha were at the library.

"I agree, I'm not sure how it feels to lose someone close to you, but [Name] hasn't been herself, and I'm worried," Yuzuriha says, frowning.

Senku rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, "She'll get over it... I think." He mumbles the last part to himself.

The friends are clearly not sure what to do since it's clear Senku isn't going to make the first move to apologize to the [H/C] haired girl.

Trying to get ideas, Yuzuriha pulls out her phone. [Name] had given them the latest one for Christmas, and her brows furrowed at the screen.

"Hey, didn't [Name] say she didn't want to reveal herself to the public until she was 17?" The two boys look over her shoulder to see an article.

"The sole heiress of the [L/n] company." Taiju read out loud.

The three read the article, [Name] had officially been revealed to the public and said to be moving overseas as soon as possible. They all paled at this, [Name] never told them about her moving overseas.

"You have to do something, Senku," Yuzuriha begged him, tearing up.

"You're the closest to her."

Her words echo in his head as he runs to [Name]'s house. He pants heavily, out of breath. The security guard at the entrance wasn't there, so he got in easily.

Getting to the front door, he spots a group of people, moving around suitcases and furniture.

He stops to catch his breath; the workers he's grown up around all have this guilty look, avoiding his eyes completely.

Senku looks around and finally sees [Name] walking to the car parked. He takes a step forward.

"[Name], explain yourself." He says, and upon hearing his voice, the girl stops and slightly turns her head to the side.

"You already heard it from the articles, I'm leaving." She says bluntly. "That's all there is to it."

Senku grits his teeth, "So you're just going to leave?"

[Name] slowly turns to him, and his eyes widen upon seeing her face; she looks pale, those [E/C] eyes that would stare at him with that soft gaze when he explained how certain things work from the moment they met.

"You don't need me; you're already a genius; you can do it yourself." She says quietly. "It's clear from the start we're different; you're a normal person, while I'm the heiress of a company; I don't have a choice. My creations won't help anyone, I'm destined to just make the decisions behind the scenes."

She turns back around, "I've made my decision, and I've been avoiding my duties, so it's time I leave to someday become the CEO of my dad's company."

Before she gets in the car, she looks back at him, giving him a sad smile, "Tell Taiju and Yuzuriha that I'm sorry."

Senku feels like he's glued to the ground before he finally moves his legs. He tries to reach her, but he's held back. "[Name]!" He shouts, struggling against the ones holding him back.

He could only watch as the car took [Name], his childhood friend away from him. "[Name]!"

And that was his first heartbreak.

a/n: honestly, senku might be a little ooc but I would think he would very blunt as a kid and learning from it as he grows up

masterlist taglist- @frootloopscos @itsnotsh1v4n1 @lovingyeet @kazuubaby @awwwia @foulbreadpaenut @verysanebsdfan @the-wild-tomato @copycat-namjesus

[gamesetattach]

The Space Between Us

Jannik Sinner x Reader Everyone loves reader, but Jannik Sinner doesn't even entertain her. Lowkey enemies to lovers, but not. Also features little bit of hurt/comfort nurturing done by our one and only Number 1. Warnings include... bruising from tennis ball, being on camera, knee/wrist scrapes.

---

You hadn’t expected to become part of the show.

When you started as a production assistant for the ATP media team, your job had been simple, clear, and exactly what you expected: you were to coordinate filming schedules, ideate content, make sure players hit their marks, and keep production running smoothly behind the scenes. But somewhere along the way, your role evolved.

It started with small moments—an off-camera laugh, an accidental cameo, a joke that made a player break mid-sentence that got included in the final cut. Viewers loved it. They liked the way you interacted with the players; how you didn’t treat them as untouchable stars, but as regular people who just happened to be absurdly good at tennis. They liked when you broke the fourth wall, chiming in with a quick quip or offering the occasional exasperated sigh when a player inevitably went off script. The players on screen were always relaxed and enthused when you were the one asking the questions, and it was notable difference from their standard, somewhat reluctant attitude when it came to being on video.

And soon enough, what had initially been incidental became intentional.

“People love you, and the players take to you more than anyone else,” one of the media coordinators had said, grinning as they showed you a comment thread. Who is the new PA? We need more of her. ATP media gold. This girl has more chemistry with the players than half the tour does with their rackets.

And so, bit by bit, you became a part of the content. You still worked behind the camera, but now, more often than not, you were pulled in front of it too. Players fed off your energy, teasing you, joking with you, dragging you into their antics. You were quick-witted and could hold your own, and that made the scenes all the more entertaining.

Ben Shelton was a frequent culprit, often grinning at the camera as it began to film before tugging you into frame for whatever nonsense he was up to. "Come on, tell them you think my backhand’s the best on tour. I know you've said it before."

"I don’t lie on camera, Ben, and you shouldn't either. That's not what the internet is for," you shot back, deadpan, making Shelton and the crew erupt in laughter.

Andrey Rublev wasn’t much better. He would often break into one of his slow-growing, broad smiles mid-answer at your expressions. "What do you think, then? Why you making me laugh? Don't make such faces."

"I didn't say or do anything. Just answer the question." You said with some effort to sound serious, trying and failing to hide your own laughter.

"Ahh, you’re a bad influence," he teased, pointing at the camera. "She’s corrupting me."

Then there was Stefanos Tsitsipas, who always felt the need to turn the question asking back to you. "Last one for you—if you had to pick someone on tour to be your mixed doubles partner, who would it be?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Probably Daniil."

Daniil Medvedev had conveniently just walked into the studio to follow Stefanos for filming, which of course hadn't influenced your answer at all. Stepping on the white backdrop and leaning into the camera's view, he raised a smug brow. "See? She has good taste."

The players adored you, on and off set, and it came through to the viewers. Every time a new ATP video went up, the comment sections were flooded with fans demanding more of your cameos. You had this way about you that brought out the most authentic parts of the players, and you had come to make up the very fabric of the content; the favorite behind-the-scenes personality of both the audience and the athletes.

Most loved it. They leaned into it, really.

Well, all except Jannik Sinner.

---

At first, you hadn’t thought much of it. Some players were more reserved than others, and that was fine. You knew how to read the room, knew when to push and when to back off.

But Jannik?

Jannik was different.

You never could get a read on him. You tried—more than you had with anyone else, actually. You'd make jokes when setting up his content, throw out some light teasing to see if you could get a reaction. And you did—kind of, sometimes... maybe. You thought you'd caught a few almost-smiles, some fleeting amusement in his eyes before he schooled his expression back into his default detachment. Though you definitely did see the way his jaw would often clench in response, almost like it pained him to humor you.

And he never engaged the way the others would. He gave you only what was necessary—short answers, nods, the occasional one-word reply when prompted. No banter, absolutely no participation in your antics. Just polite professionalism and an impenetrable wall of disinterest.

If he didn’t like you, fine. You could be civil. You could still do your job. And you weren’t going to waste any more energy trying to crack someone who clearly didn’t want to be.

So, you stopped trying altogether.

You were still lively and fun in your role, still joking and teasing with the other players, but when it came to Jannik? You were decidedly neutral. Professional. Just as he was to you. It was simply another transactional work obligation, and you were just another assistant ensuring his content was filmed and uploaded on time.

And if he noticed the shift, he didn’t say anything.

Not that you expected him to.

---

Your first media meeting with the players attending had been going smoothly—just a standard PR and media planning session at the beginning of the season with ATP players and the media team, updating the athletes on procedures and discussing upcoming content ideas. It was nothing particularly taxing, and you welcomed the opportunity to spend more time with the players you'd quickly come to call friends. At least up until someone pitched this one idea, one that made you want to curl up into a little hole: a video where players would coach ATP staff, before competing in doubles for a mini, amateur, content-farming tournament.

The concept had a great reception as soon as it was pitched, most everyone agreed it'd be a hit. It had the perfect mix of entertainment, sport, chaos, and fan service. Even the players in the room, who often felt burdened by video obligations, jumped in to support; everyone immediately started to weigh in on who should be part of the video, of who should be paired with whom. Then pretty soon, as you should have expected, someone threw your name into the mix.

You felt your stomach tighten. Playing tennis with professional athletes—on camera, for hundreds of thousands of people to consume—was a whole new level of terrifying. You liked being part of ATP content, sure, but you still felt you better fit a role that was more behind-the-scenes. Being the voice and occasional face breaking the fourth wall was all fun and games, but actually competing against players or even just playing along with them? That was something else entirely.

"You've got to be in it," Ben Shelton said pointing at you as he grinned at the rest of the room. "I mean, she's practically an honorary player at this point."

You forced a smile. "Right, right. Except for the part where I don't play professional tennis."

"That's just semantics," Stefanos Tsitsipas said. "Viewers enjoy your addition."

"Yeah, that and watching you get destroyed on court would make for great TV," Tommy Paul chimed in, chuckling beside Ben.

"I hate that you’re right," you muttered, sinking back in your chair as the discussion continued. There was no point in fighting back, so you took a deep breath, tried to release any anxiety, and allowed yourself a few moments to zone out.

Around you, they began to deliberate the player-staff pairings. Names were thrown around, debated, adjusted. And then—

"...Okay then that leaves..."

You started tuning back into the conversation just as your boss addressed you, "You’re with Jannik, then."

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, "Who, me?"

Of all the players, Jannik? You literally got along well with everyone else. Anyone else.

He was already distant enough as it was, and after months of failing to get through to him, you had quietly resigned yourself to the fact that he just wasn’t a fan of you. And that was fine. But now you had to train with him? Play with tennis him? Be on a team with him?

Maybe he'd be more agreeable in his natural element, or at least you hoped he would be. Though you doubted just being on the courts would make him magically greet you with joy and cheer and sparkles.

You stole a glance at him. He was unreadable, as always, nodding at the decision without any reaction or even a look your way.

You, on the other hand, were trying not to spiral.

Fucking media team.

Now you got where the players' disdain came from.

---

After the meeting, as everyone gathered their things, you felt a someone hovering beside you. You turned to find Jannik standing there, looming over you with hands stuffed in his pockets.

"You shouldn't have to stress about it," he said, his voice even.

You just blinked at him, completely caught off guard. He'd never initiated any words with you before, like ever. "Wait, what?"

"The shoot," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I can help you practice before."

His gaze flickered toward the others leaving the room before settling back on you. "If you want, I mean. Just if you want to feel more comfortable when we film."

It was a simple offer, spoken so casually, but something about it made your heart stutter. Jannik Sinner, who had barely acknowledged you for months, was offering to help you. And he'd somehow managed to notice your worries, even if he did spend his time ignoring you.

You nodded, voice slightly unsure. "Uh—yeah. Yeah, okay. That would be… nice."

"Nine o’clock, practice courts," he said, before turning to leave.

You stared after him, still processing.

What in the hell was that?

---

At exactly 9 PM, you arrived at the courts, nerves thrumming under your skin. Jannik was already there, casually bouncing a ball on his racket, looking every bit like this was just another training session. Maybe he did these kind of evening, charity lessons all the time... you didn't know the guy after all—you laughed a little at the thought.

"You’re on time," he noted, glancing at you. "That’s good."

You scoffed. "I try to be punctual when my dignity is at stake."

He let out a quiet huff of amusement—so slight you almost missed it.

The next hour was spent going through the basics. He showed you the mechanics of different swings, his voice steady as he corrected your form. When you moved on to drills, you were surprised to find that you weren’t terrible—you picked things up quickly, and, to your delight (and maybe even his), he would murmur the occasional praise.

"That was good."

"Better."

"Nice timing."

Each acknowledgement of progress sent a strange thrill through you. You let yourself pretend it was just the adrenaline from learning something new.

After drills, he set up a small rally between you two. He went easy on you, obviously, but you both got really into it. Every time you managed to hit a decent shot, you’d throw out some cocky quip.

"That was almost an actual point! Be afraid, Sinner."

Jannik smirked—actually smirked. "I’ll try to contain my fear."

Slowly, one-liners started coming from his way too.

"That was just luck."

Or "I let you have that one."

"You wish you let me have that one." You'd shot back.

After a few back and forths, you were both laughing freely between rallies and you had forgotten why you were ever nervous in the first place.

You were missing less, hitting the balls harder, and a smile had stayed plastered on your face throughout it all.

But after one, particularly hard swing from you, Jannik returned the ball your way with full power—forgetting himself for a moment. A sharp cazzo leaving his lips as soon as his racket made contact with the ball.

It was a real hit, one with too much force and speed for you to react in time. The ball was coming straight for you, and all you could do was twist your front away from the collision. It struck your shoulder right as you turned, your balance giving away at the odd angle, sending you stumbling forward. You hit the ground hard, scraping your knees and palms.

Jannik was above you in an instant, crouching beside you before you could even process what happened.

"Are you okay?" His voice was low and urgent. His hands hovered over you, hesitating, like he wanted to help but wasn’t sure how.

You forced a laugh, wincing. "Well, I won’t be turning pro anytime soon."

But he wasn't so easily amused. He gently lifted your chin so your downcast gaze had to meet his, your eyes had welled up from the impact. He didn't waste any time, already helping you up. One hand gripping your arm, the other steadying your waist.

"Come. Let’s clean this up."

---

In the locker room, he sat you on a bench before leaving you in search of some first-aid equipment. With a squeeze of comfort on your unharmed shoulder, he'd murmured, "Wait here."

He returned with a bright red kit and came down to your level, resting the supplies on his leg. And the sight of him—Jannik Sinner, world-class athlete—kneeling between your legs, so close you could feel his breath, made your stomach flip.

His fingers were gentle as they gripped your thigh, moving upward and settling just beneath the seam of your shorts to steady your leg as he cleaned the cut on your knee. You inhaled sharply, the heat of his touch searing into your skin.

“Tell me if I’m being too rough,” he said, voice barely a whisper as he worked his way down the gash. His eyes stayed trained on the wound, brows furrowed in concentration, and you found that couldn’t look away from him.

"You're not." You replied, trying to sound reassuring, but the words barely carried—cutting off as he switch to your palms. He took your hands in his own to inspect your scrapes there, his fingers traced lightly over the raw skin. His touch slow, deliberate. Your breath hitched and your fingers quivered. If he noticed, he made no sign of it—he'd yet to look up at your face.

Then, he reached around you to press his fingertips along your shoulder blade, checking for a bruise or any swelling, and you felt the warmth of his hand spread through you. You couldn't help but straighten at the touch, your back arching ever so slightly into his hand. You swallowed hard, your pulse a little too fast.

Finally, he met your eyes and held your gaze. For a moment, it felt like there was no space left to close. You could have counted his every lash and every freckle—you let your eyes flicker to his lips.

He blinked, exhaled with slight shake of his head and moved to sit beside you on the bench without a word, breaking the moment.

You both sat in the echoing quiet of the locker room, tension tangible in the air.

"Are you alright?" He asked, the first to break the silence.

"Yes, thank you." And because the sincerity in your words felt too heavy, you added, "Better to get the injuries out now, rather than on tape tomorrow."

He had no reply, he only nodded as he shut the first-aid tin. Neither of you moved for some minutes after that.

"I thought you couldn’t stand me," you admitted after a few more beats of silence.

"That was never true." He replied, and his voice was softer than you'd ever heard it.

Something in your chest tightened.

Not knowing how to handle the weight of it all, you forced a smile and deflected once more. "Well, I’ll still be good for the tournament. Try not be the weak link, okay?"

His lips twitched, then finally cracked into a small smile. "I’ll do my best."

You both left in silence, but the traces of your intimacy lingered. Traces of his care.

And the knowledge that something had almost happened.

That maybe, next time, it would.

---

The next day, the energy on set at the courts was electric. The ATP media team had pulled out all the stops—cameras stationed at every angle, players mic’d up, the mini “Grand Slam” trophy sitting on a table like it was an actual piece of silverware worth fighting for. There was an undeniable buzz as the filming began, and somehow, throughout all the pairings, the biggest surprise came from you and Jannik.

There was an odd contrast between you two—after last night, things still felt slightly unnatural, stiff. Like you were both hyper-aware of each other. But at the same time, you had never felt more in sync with someone.

He was always there, just within reach. When you moved, he followed. When he positioned himself on court, you instinctively slotted into place beside him. Every time he set up a shot, you knew exactly where he wanted you. It wasn’t something either of you had to vocalize—it was just something you felt.

The other players took notice immediately.

“Where did this come from?” Carlos Alcaraz muttered after you and Jannik advanced from your first round.

“I didn’t think they’d make it past the first match,” Ben Shelton added, arms crossed as he watched in disbelief.

By the semifinals, it was undeniable. You and Jannik were good together. Even in a casual, barely-serious tournament, the chemistry was obvious. You celebrated small victories with ease—when you landed a decent shot, Jannik would step forward with a closed fist, other hand on your back, murmuring, “Nice one.” In between points, he’d throw you a towel as you passed him his water, like it was second nature. The way you moved together, the way you read each other—it was like you had played as a team for years.

And then, against all odds, you won the whole damn thing.

---

As the final match point was scored, the celebration was pure instinct. You turned toward Jannik, arms outstretched in disbelief, and without hesitation, his hands found your waist, lifting you slightly in a triumphant embrace.

“Did we actually just win?” you laughed, sliding your hands down from around his neck to his chest.

His smirk was soft but victorious. “We did.”

The rest of the players groaned in exaggerated dismay.

“I don’t believe it,” Stefanos said, shaking his head.

“Who let them get this good together?” Daniil added, crossing his arms.

“This win came out of nowhere,” Ben muttered. “Did anyone see this happening?”

The mini trophy ceremony was as ridiculous as expected. The ATP staff made a grand show of presenting the tiny, poorly spray painted trophy, which Jannik took with a mock-serious nod before passing it to you.

You beamed, lifting it over your head. “I’d like to thank my coach, my trainer, my physio, and of course, my partner in crime—” You turned toward Jannik, nudging him playfully. “Bit of an underground player, but he really came alive today on the court. Couldn’t have done it without you, Sinner.”

For the first time in front of all of them, Jannik actually smiled at you, the full breadth of it. There was something warm and deeper in his gaze. “Yeah,” he said, quieter but just as certain. “We make a good team.”

---

After filming wrapped, you and Jannik found yourselves alone in the locker room again, the commotion of the day settling into something more still between just the two of you. You sat on the bench, absentmindedly spinning the tiny trophy on a finger, still amused by the absurdity of it all.

Jannik sat next to you, shoulders barely brushing. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it felt charged—like something was waiting to be said.

Finally, he broke it. “I meant what I said earlier.”

You turned to him, confused. “About what?”

He took a breath, eyes flickering to you before looking straight ahead again. “That we make a good team.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart stutter. Because you knew he wasn’t talking about tennis.

You swallowed, fingers tightening around the trophy. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “We do.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The air between you thick, expectant. He was so close—you could feel the heat radiating from him, see the way his jaw clicked slightly like he was holding something back. And for the second time, if you leaned in even slightly, there would be no space left to close.

And then, finally and slowly, the tension relieved itself.

Jannik shifted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear—slow, deliberate, like he was testing something. His fingers barely skimmed your skin, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You looked up at him, heart pounding. “Jannik…”

He hesitated, then, voice nothing but a whisper, “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t have to think. Didn’t want to. You just nodded.

And then his lips were on yours, soft and sure, like he had been holding back for longer then you could ever know. That tiny trophy slipped from your grip, clattering onto the bench, but neither of you noticed.

Because finally—finally—there was nothing left between you but this.

---

Cute cute!! Hope you like it xx

[its-hitoshi]

modern! sevika au [low income edition]

Hi I’m also going to be using the last name ‘Jain’. It makes me think of that pretty girl at a summer program I went to that had that same last name and like Sevika, I can’t get her pretty eyes out of my head now. Setting is a general big city. Think of Los Angeles or New York or Toronto

ANYWAY FIRST GEN LOW INCOME SEVIKA REP LETS GOOO. I'm trauma dumping onto Sevika. No one can stop me.

-

Sevika Jain, who grew up on food stamps, always looking forward to that one snack her parents would buy her at the end of their grocery hauls. Some days it was bubblegum and shrimp chips the next. Her favorite was always roasted peanuts though. But none of those ever compared to the snacks her mom would make after she helped carry inside bags of fresh vegetables and gallons of water [from the local water store of course]

Sevika, who’s never had the privilege of having her own bed. Or her own room for that matter. Her entire family – mom, dad – lived in a one bedroom apartment. Growing up, she’d snuggle between them during cold nights under that one thick, flower-patterned blanket.

Having fun was playing on the jungle gym or sports with other kids at a local park. Her baba always took her. It’s how she would spend her summers. She still had asthma though. The air quality wasn’t good.

Sevika, who grew up speaking fluent Hindi, only being able to understand her dad now when he speaks to her. All the words she used to know, she can’t say them anymore. She remembers how they felt on her tongue, how they sound. But when she tries, it all comes out wrong. She doesn’t speak Hindi anymore. [Perhaps in a few years, she’ll try to learn again. Duolingo. Mangolanguages. Maybe she’ll meet someone who’s also having difficulties with their own language. Maybe together, they can try.]

Sevika, whose parents loved her, but still felt the sting of their palms. Or sometimes it was a stick. They said they did it because they loved her. Look at all they haven’t made her do, like other kids. Back in their homes, in their childhoods, she would have been working so much. Doesn’t she see how much they’re doing for her? Why can’t she behave?

Sometimes, when her parents fought, she’d see a flash of silver as their voices rose and things got… violent. Sevika wonders if it was just her childish imagination that saw the window rattle or if they actually did it.

Her father sobbed the day her mother died, nonetheless. All the fighting and all that screaming. The doctors had said it was a stroke. Her mama had been complaining about fatigue. Her head was throbbing the morning she walked out the door to go work. Sevika had had school. Her dad also had work. Sevika didn’t know until her dad pulled her out of school one day, white knuckles clenched around the steering wheel as he says quietly that her mother is dead. They park outside of the hospital, and this is the first and last time she sees her father cry. He still had to go into work the next day.

Sevika, who’s older and seen more of the world now, remembering those who weren’t able to. She went to a Title 1 school. Underfunded, in an area that might have been described as ‘ghetto’ in the past – gentrified now, of course. She wouldn’t be able to afford to live there now. The low-income apartment towers she used to live in were remodeled into luxury apartments, marketed to savvy college graduates who wanted to live close to the heart of the city. She walks past the streets she used to call home and tries to recall where the memorial for her classmate had been. They left flowers and candles at the corner he died at. There it is.

And there, she recalls, another shooting happened. There wasn’t a memorial, but there was a death. School had just been dismissed. It was a drive-by. They weren’t a student, but she had been. Her school’s been shut down now. Low enrollment, low performance, and the like. It’s been merged with another school a few streets down.

She wasn’t the best at school, but she wasn’t the worst. She could do fractions in high school, which was better than some of her fellow students. What she did do, was get into a decent amount of fights. She was tall for a girl. Quiet. Also couldn’t stand it when some bastard was running his mouth with no bite to match up his bark.

She graduated, solid middle of her class. She stayed near the neighborhood as others left for better or for cheaper lives. It was already starting to get expensive.

More deaths started rolling in. A drug overdose here or there.

Girls her age becoming pregnant. Having kids. Sevika wondered if there was ever anything wrong with her. She never wanted a guy like they did. Maybe what they said during high school was right. Maybe she is a lesbian. [in time, she comes to understand that she is. Also, that her desire for people is a little different from others. It’s all okay.]

Sevika walking past a recreation center. They’d given her a scholarship one summer, when she wanted to take lessons. Her baba had told her no, but they said they’d take her anyway. Free. They’d give her a scholarship. Sevika, who usually always spoke in low tones, not just because it was comfortable, but because it would get people off her back, was allowed to sing.

Her baba had recorded it. It’s in a flash drive somewhere, but Sevika also had it uploaded to her computer. It captures the moment she ran down to her baba to give him a big hug. He’d said she was amazing.

Late at night, when she’s in her apartment far from the heart of her city, far from what was home, but still home, Sevika is cooking a curry. Her kitchen, though small, is filled with little plastic sachets of herbs and spices bought from her local grocer. She has a pestle and mortar to grind up her spices as coarsely or as fine as she’d like. The scent of home blooms in the air. She found a playlist of old songs someone compiled on Youtube. Her parents liked these songs. She hums the melody, mouthing some of the words as she cleans her chicken. Her baba is dead now. Been so for quite a few years. She’s grown. Her college degree is hung up on the wall, a nod to him and his dreams for her. She did it, even if it was a little late. Even if it wasn’t at some big, fancy college where she knew she’d be the odd one out. He’d have a conniption if he knew she lost her arm in an accident. She got a decent settlement from her workplace at least. Kept her from being off the streets.

 If she ever bumps into them, she’ll buy her classmates and their kids something from the food stall at the corner of the street – churros, freshly made by a nice woman who she can’t really communicate with, but food is food, and money is money. Their kids aren’t kids anymore. Teenagers, plucky and ready to take on the world.

She doesn’t need to be on food stamps anymore. She might not be rich, but she’s stable. This curry will last her for a few days. Silco might work her to the bone in his NGO, but she has her sick days. And vacation days that he not-so-subtly asks her to take with his Do I work you hard enough to not visit Vander’s bar? He’s been complaining about me barring his best customer.

Vander and Silco have two girls between the two of them: Powder and Violet. Violet has her mother’s face. Powder reminds Sevika of how Felicia was like when they were all kids together – when they first met. And somehow, Vander finds enough time to volunteer with two more boys. Mylo and Claggor. Sevika’s met them all at this point.

She takes them to the park when Vander and Silco need a break. She watches them play in the apparatus and muses at how… green the playgrounds are nowadays. No more blacktop. Grass and trees and flowers. There’s even music playing from a radio somewhere. Whoever that person is, they have good taste.

So do the kids, apparently, when they eat up the curry she brought them for lunch. She smirks as she knows for certain that she’s given Vander a run for his money now.

(Vander’s also doing the dishes for her in that nice dishwasher he has in his bar)

[justastraymoa]

@skzideasforothers and @ilovefanfics2019 sooo I got inspired and wrote a tidbit beginning, but there is more to come.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Something to be Soft for

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Warnings for STBSF: mentions of injuries, blood, broken bones, depression, general sadness, swearing, fear, wolf bites. This is a ABO fic with full wolf shifts.

Y/n, Seungmin, Felix, and I.N are Omegas on their own in the woods who suck at self preservation and survival instincts.

BangChan is Alpha of the Stray Kids pack with Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Han who are all Betas.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

“It’s time, Lino.” BangChan spoke gently, knowing how much this was going to hurt the younger Beta. He came off hard and aloof most of the time, but he probably loved more deeply than all of them combined. He fell hard and fast.

Lee Know glared at his senior as he held the squirming creature in his arms. “No, it’s not, Chan! She still needs looking after!”

“She is a wild animal; you can’t take her from her home and family forever. Her leg is healed. Time to let her go home.”

Lino sighed sadly and looked at the agitated bunny he held. He had found her a few weeks ago, stuck in a cruel snare. He took her home without hesitation to heal the broken leg the snare caused. She would never survive the woods injured on her own.

Everyone in the manor took to her immediately, fighting to help care for the small creature in their midst. It became both the highlight of their days and a competition about who got to spend time taking care of her. It caused many arguments among them that Chan had to break up and offer a compromise for, not that he minded. Chan understood their need to care for the animal to replace the packs need for an Omega, because he felt it too. Probably more than they did because he was Alpha.

But now the creature was healed and kept escaping the small enclosure they had created for her early on. This was the second time today. Chan was right. It was time to let her go.

It broke Linos’s heart. He loved having something to take care of. Something to care for and needed his help. It filled a part of his chest that was now growing cold.

“I’ll tell the others to come say goodbye.” Chan continued, knowing he was right. He gave Lino a sad smile and left to find the others to give them the bad news.

~

There were tears. Hyunjin, Changbin, BangChan, Han, and Lee Know gathered near where Lino first found the bunny. He had made sure there were no more snares nearby. He didn’t want any more innocent creatures to get injured because some careless hunters didn’t feel like cleaning up his traps when he was done.

They could all hear the scrape and snuffling of the other bunnies nearby. Maybe watching them curiously from a safe distance. Maybe shocked and excited to see their bunny sister. They stayed hidden, wary of the large intruders.

“Goodbye, sweet girl. Stay safe.” Lino sniffed, giving the fidgeting creature a scratch between her long ears.

“Its dangerous out there. Don’t let your guard down.” Changbin added running a finger down her spine.

Hyunjin and Han crowded in to pet at the small creature fondly.

“She will be fine. She has family to care for her.” Chan put in.

“You’re right, Hyung.” Linos’s heart broke as he stepped away from the others and bent to place her into the grass.

The bunny stayed put for a few seconds, nose working overtime as she sniffed around. Hesitantly she hopped forward a bit, maybe catching the scent of her family. Then finally she sped away, disappearing into the woods before Lino could change his mind and snatch her back up again.

Chan patted Lino on the shoulder, squeezing lightly. “It’s for the best. She’s home now.” Lino nodded starting at the spot his bunny disappeared at.

They all hiked back to the manor in the woods, dejected and empty. Craving something to care for, something to soothe the empty spots in their chests. Something to protect and coo over.

~

2 weeks later

Lino crouched on the forest floor, trying to be as quiet as possible to listen for his bunny girl. Any hint or sign of her or her family.

But it was futile, they had moved on. They had to have decided their home was no longer safe and left. Sadly, Lino hadn’t seen or heard them since he released his bunny girl that day and left her behind, his heart shattered.

His bunny girl had well and truly left him for good.

But still, Lino came every few days, he wasn’t sure why. To torture himself maybe?

Since they let their bunny girl go the pack had been talking seriously about finding an Omega. There were programs they could join through the government that would place one with them. It was more likely you would find a match that way than letting it happen naturally like they did in the old days. Where you would run into them randomly in a grocery store or out in public somewhere and just click. That kind of fairy tale shit didn’t happen anymore.

With a sigh Lino turned and headed back to the manor. Han met him at the edge of their territory.

“How did it go today?” He asked carefully.

Lino just shook his head and let Han hook his arm with his as they walked. Han was the youngest of their pack and was favored by all of them, doted on, trying and fill their desperate need for an Omega. But he never let it go to his head, never let it change him, never asked for anything more.

But their need was never truly fulfilled, and Han’s need was shoved down and ignored by him, so he didn’t burden any of the others.

“She’s okay, I know it. She’s a fighter.” Han tried to cheer his senior up.

“Of course, she’s fine!” Lino sniffed brushing it off.

As soon as they walked into the manor a wonderful aroma hit their noses, and they sniffed deeply. “Oh, Chan Alpha, that smells amazing!” Han called through the hall.

Chan appeared a few seconds later. “Just in time. Fried chicken for dinner. Wash up and join the rest of us.”

“And hurry up!” Changbin called from the direction of the dining room.

Lino rolled his eyes and led the way to the downstairs bathroom.

To make himself feel better Lino took Hans hands under the warm water and started to thoroughly scrub them, rubbing them between his own and even using a brush to clean under the younger’s nails.

Han allowed it with a bright smile. Standing close to his Hyung and holding his hands obediently under the flow of warm water. He noticed Lino always got a little more ‘Beta’ after his trips to try and see his bunny. His need to care got stronger and harder to ignore. If this was how he could help his packmate then it wasn’t a sacrifice at all.

As soon as Han and Lino joined the table the rest dug into their food, the good smells driving them crazy. Lino ate slower, still in this head and feels. Chan noticed and set his utensils down to address the pack.

He cleared his throat softly and waited to have everyone’s attention. “I set us up on an Omega placement list today.” He began.

“Did they have any candidates?” Changbin asked full of hope.

Chan shrugged and shook his head. “It will be a long time before we are at that point. They have to do checkups, background checks on all of us, and monitor our pack very closely for several months first, to make sure we are a safe, stable pack.”

Lino sagged even more than he already was, the small spark of hope Chans initial announcement gave dashed in an instant. “So still no Omega for us then.”

Han squeezed his hand. “It’s not a ‘never’, just a ‘not right away’ is all.”

But even he felt the loss of the small spark of hope being crushed by red tape.

“It will happen for us eventually guys, I promise. I know its hard right now, but our Omega is out there.” Chan reassured his pack.

That night Lino crawled into bed with his Alpha. Chan didn’t say anything, just pulled his Beta closer and did his best to radiate soothing vibes as they both lay there, unable to sleep and unwilling to speak.

The Omega Placement Agency (OPA) were in and out for several days, getting all the ingo they needed from the pack. They did very, very detailed background checks, going even into their childhood before finally being done with their questions.

“Now we will take all your answers and verify them through our sources. Talk to friends and family, coworkers, even the police department to see any issues you or this address had had. It typically takes a couple weeks per background check.” The social worker informed them as they carefully packed up the numerous forms the pack had to fill out and sign over the last several hours.

Another social worker came to inspect their living situation. Every inch of every room, hall, nook, and cranny was inspected. Special attention was paid to the rooms set aside for additional pack members.

They hadn’t made the spare rooms up for Omegas in particular. Right now, they were more of a generic guest room for when family or friends come to stay. This didn’t seem to please the social worker who looked around every guest room with a pinched look.

“I only signed us up for this program a few days ago. We haven’t had a chance to fix up a room yet. We thought we had time.” Chan tried to defend them. Save the situation.

“Most applicants have everything set up already before they even sign up. You don’t have a single space in this house set aside for a nest, not one. Let along a panic room or security for your Omega if something should occur.” The worker clicked her tongue.

“They would be safe here; we are the only security they need.” Hyune argued.

“And what if you were what they needed protected from?” He challenged.

Changbin almost growled at the insult, which would not have helped the situation. “We would never hurt them!” He snapped.

“I’m sure you believe that, but instincts can be a cruel, viscous thing. Shit happens.”

“Then we will add a panic room for them. And ample spaces for nesting. Easy enough.” Chan cut into the conversation.

The worker snapped the book they were taking notes in shut with a crack. “See that you do. The next visit will include the outside territory as well – see that it is ready. The visit will not be announced.” And with that the social worker left with their less than stellar review.

“Well, that went great.” Lino said sarcastically.

“It wasn’t the best.” Hyune agreed.

“We just have to work on fixing the issues, that’s all.” Chan insisted, remaining hopeful.

Lino signed feeling defeated and stifled. It had been a week of this OPA shit and he was sick of it. He was gunna go see if he could find his bunny girl again. “I’ll be back; I’m going for a walk.”

“Stay safe and good luck finding her. Say hi if you do, for us.” Changbin replied heading towards their indoor gyn to work out his frustrations.

As soon as he got near the spot he left his bunny girl he knew something was different. Something was wrong.

There were new scents in the air. Omegas. Several of them. They had been around here for a day or two judging by the scents saturating the area. And there was no scents of Beta or Alpha with them. These Omegas were alone. Why? Were they lost?

A distressed yip and high-pitched cry of pain had Lino sprinting in the direction of the sound. To the Omega in need. Purely working on the instinct to protect the Omega crying out in pain.

He stopped about 50 feet from the injured Omega, taking in the scene in front of him.

There were four Omega pups, three males, one female. The youngest pup had its rear left leg in a cruel bear trap left behind by hunters. Probably the same ones that left the snare his bunny girl got trapped in. When he searched for other snares, he hadn’t looked this far away from the original location, so he hadn’t caught this trap.

The female and a male were desperately trying to free their young friend, alternating between pausing at the bear trap and soothing the younger with nudges and licks.

The third male stood between Lino and his fellow Omegas, growling, and snarling ferociously at him, teeth fully on display and body tensed for attack.

Lino crouched to be smaller and held out his empty hands to show he meant no harm to any of them. “I can help free him. I just want to help.” He spoke low and slow, meeting the aggressive one’s gaze for only a second before looking away – not wanting to challenge him.

The female was listening too, watching him with sharp eyes. She stood over her crying friend, a guardian helpless to free him.

The three uninjured ones had a conversation in a series of yips, huffs, and growls, the aggressive one never taking his eyes off Lino. Lino held his breath and tried to remain as unthreatening as possible. The sounds of the youngest pups’ cries were piercing his chest, and he was desperate to help.

After too long, the aggressive one stopped his growling and jerked his head in a way that Lino took as permission to help. He took measured, but large steps to the injured pup, the aggressive one following him and watching his every move.

The aggressive one pushed the female and other male back and away from Lino, leaving only himself, and the injured pup within reach of Lino.

As Lino started to work on the bear trap his nerves and instincts made him want to keep talking to the pups. “I’m sorry, little one. I’m going to be gentle, but it will still hurt. Just hang in there. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He just kept spewing words as he worked, inspecting the brutal trap.

The aggressive male sniffed at his hands as he worked, snorting at Lino every time the younger pups cries increased. Lino just kept apologizing as he pried the bear trap off the pups leg, knowing it hurt like hell.

As soon as all body parts were clear of the trap, Lino let it snap shut again so it wouldn’t hurt anyone else and set it aside.

The pups wound was bad, bone broken and skin wide open in a wound that gushed blood. Lino shifted his weight and gently started to lift the pup to take him home to care for him.

However, he dropped him and jerked back as the aggressive one sank his teeth into his arm, breaking skin. “Ow! He’s hurt! I just want to help heal him! Tend to his wounds!” Lino tried to explain to the pup who was back to growling, teeth stained red now with Linos blood. Lino held his throbbing arm. The wound wasn’t deep. Merely a warning bite from the Omega.

But the aggressive, protective Omega only snarled at him. The other two rushed forward and between them they managed to get the injured one up and start slowly walking away.

“Let me help him. You can all come. You will be safe; you have my word!” Lino begged to the four retreating pups. The protective one didn’t let him out of his sight until they disappeared between the trees. Lino had no choice but to let them leave.

🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

So my sister had this idea and I'm going to share it with you lot.

A/O/B Platonic Yandere Skz x Seungmin, Jeongin & Fem Reader. (Maybe a series)

So Seungmin, Jeongin and Reader are alone group of betas who are just living life in their cosy cottage in the woods just surviving as they can. Skz group who are sad because they find out that they cannot have pups, so one of the boys go far off into another part of the woods to morn. Which is where they see the three betas playing in wolf form which compared to Skz are a lot smaller than them, so the Skz boy thinks oh my god they are pups alone in the woods. So he runs off back to the back and tells them. Then they all start to observe the three betas and even though they see the betas in the human form which they are definitely not children, all they can do is think of them as pups which their scent and the way they almost keep getting hurt doesn't help the fact. So Skz become obsessed with them and what them as their pups but the three betas won't go or fold easily into Skz delusions, but Skz will do what ever it takes for them to do so...

[moonsinkfoxgirl]

Of the various designs for the fox emoji, which one would you say is your favorite? 🦊

iOS (2016/2017/2024) -- 7/10 that's a cute foxy, but there is a certain cartooony ness about them that lessens their impact

Android (2016) -- 9.5/10 a wilder foxy, with a serious expression, simple and beautiful

Android (2017) -- 9/10 sudden change entirely, thoroughly simplified, but a core foxyness is retained and you get a good smile that can be both adorably whimsical as well as mischievous

Android (2020-2023) -- 5/10 that's a foxy alright, but she borders on being soulless

Samsung (2016) -- 2/10 easily mistaken for some form of rodent

Samsung (2018) -- 6/10 a lot better but a similar problem, the cute eyes do kind of elevate her though

Samsung (2019) -- 5/10 the plushie look helps a bit but very similar

Samsung (2023, 2024) -- 2/10 you could convincingly claim they're hamsters

Microsoft 3D fluent (2023) -- 0/10 may the gods have mercy on whoever decided to turn the beautiful Vulpes Vulpes into this abomination of artificial plastic

Microsoft (2016) -- 8/10 a striking shape in a beautiful style, but perhaps a bit too lacking in emotion to capitalize on that

Microsoft (2021, 2023) -- 1/10 it's better than the plastic 3D render but still a crime

Whatsapp (all of them) -- 4/10 not as bad as the samsung hamsters but you could still make the case

Twitter (all of them) -- 8/10 a cute and fine foxy, again a bit lacking in the emotional department

facebook (2017) -- 9/10 a delightfully whimsical foxy

facebook (2018, 2023) -- ‽⸘/10 this foxy was taken on a boat, gripped at her tail by some sort of tentacle, dragged to the bottom of the ocean where she saw abyssal truths that would be too much for the mind of any creature, and has now miraculously washed up on shore, wet, bedraggled, knowing

Huawei (2023) -- 8/10 this foxy holds many a wisdom

Joypixels (2016) -- 6/10 one day I may welcome our robot fox overlords but that day is not today

Joypixels (2017) -- 8/10 these foxies are young and curious

Joypixels (2018) -- 7/10 a step backwards from above

Joypixels (2019, 2020) -- 6/10 a villainous foxy full of deceit, not necessarily a badly made depiction under that premise but it is a harmful stereotype!

Joypixels (2020, 2023, 2024) -- 4/10 these foxies are being forced to smile fake smiles at 60 hours per week customer service jobs, please free them, they are calling for help

LG (2021) -- 5/10 a long nose lacking in emotion

Twitter emoji stickers (2022) -- 7/10 that's an expensive fursuit head

SerenityOS (2024) -- 1/10 at least with all the other rodents and hamsters you can kind of imagine them to be foxies if you're told that's what they're meant to be, but this? this is a mouse no matter how you look at it

TossFace (2022, 2023) -- -1/10 a corporate abomination

Sony Playstation (2021) -- 8/10 a cutie!

Noto Emoji font (2023) -- 8/10 a black and white cutie!

Openmoji (2018/2023) -- 2/10 could be convincingly claimed to be a kangooroo

Icons8 (2023) -- 5/10 she's old and angry and doesn't like you

emojidex (2016/2017) -- 3/10 these girls are haggard

Emojipedia sample images (2016/2018) -- 2/10 could be confused for rodents again

the girl you sent me without a source -- 8/10 a serious cutie, but she could be mistaken for a wolf

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[comixandco]

my favourite part of season 5 is still the reveal that Gabriel and Tomoe thought Adrien and Kagami made the perfect pair and wanted them to be together because it completely flips their relationship

Kagami and Adrien sneaking around and finding the slightest gaps in their schedule and giving their bodyguards/parents the slip to spend time together and feeling so clever that they’ve gotten away with it their parents don’t suspect a thing

only to smashcut to Gabriel and Tomoe doing an evil pound it because their ship is canon