#(for a few moments i did think they were on the same way and my brain was going crazy but turns out kenzo was on friday)

[mr-affogatos-papers]

Living in the woods, isolated from society, and with Aliens for Neighbours wasn't as worrying as one would think — nor was it any different from living in a city neighborhood, minus the electricity. It was peaceful, a break from society's constant buzz.

The aliens weren't troublesome nor friendly and I kept myself the same. Their otherworldly existence and habits were peculiar and interesting enough for me to keep a track on their whereabouts more often than not. We all did have our personal lives, our habits and quirks. I wasn't one to judge, It ain't my place. But, If I was telling someone about my situation, I'd compare this to your everyday neighborhood. It's like on the rare chance you actually see your neighbor doing groceries, you would look quizzically at them hauling four bags in by themselves --out of which two are filled with only cans of monster or those 0.99$ each stress balls that would pop in a second. You wouldn't really question them, would you? And if you were dragging into your home a box that looks suspiciously like a coffin covered by a blanket, the most that would happen is them offering you help at your pathetic display of strength.

It was the same thing here.

We never crossed paths, usually working at different times and speeds. And on the off chance we did, I did have the decency to act like I did not see them with a 900-pound bear that was suspiciously tame and cooperative.

Though strange, it was peaceful like this. The large area they occupied had all the animals calm and sweet like little pups and cubs. The fear of predators, and the guilt that came with having to shoot 'em when they try to gnaw at me, slowly dwindled away when all they wanted was belly rubs and ear scratches and not my leg to snack on.

So yeah, no predators.

Until now apparently.

The note was a set of scribbles of English, written like a child who just picked up a pencil. But it was big enough for me to recognize the words and that, paired with the metal and another layer of who-knows-what vibrating all around my cabin said enough.

I wasn't one to question it or doubt its authenticity. If danger was presenting itself, and it was something they couldn't placate like those animals, then I'd ensure my own safety with their added protection. I grab the drying meat from the outside rack and the two shotguns I had kept to clean and bring it inside, dumping it by the door as I make my way to the kitchen.

To stay inside for an indefinite amount of time meant ensuring you had the essentials to be able to last so long. I knew I had to restock my necessities soon, do a 4-hour drive to the nearby town and a 4-hour drive back.

8 hours. And the sun was already halfway down. It would be impossible to make it before dark. And it's an unsaid rule to never be out in the dark when you know there's trouble lurking.

I curse as I decide what to prioritize but the moment, I open my cupboards I freeze. It was filled. To the brim. I open another cupboard and then another until all 6 of them are open. And then I open the fridge.

Stocked. Completely.

There was stuff I buy and stuff I don't usually buy. Like the 8 different types of pasta shapes. I don't know whether to be grateful for their foresight or concerned about how they got in without breaking the lock. On the fridge I notice a note written in the same childish handwriting

"It was a matter of urgency. apologies"

Holy pepperoni. I crumple the paper and throw it in the bin as I plan out my next steps. Reload my guns, dry out some fruits and meat, nap for a few hours, and stay on guard for what seems to be a really long time. solid plan. I crash out on my sofa immediately after I'm done with my tasks. Waking up I find out it was unnecessary. Late into the evening, I find a note slipped through the crack under my door, the familiar scribbles highlighting it, "It's safe. You can come out" I'm not the trusting sort, not in the slightest when it comes to believing the danger was gone so soon. But I was curious, so I look out of the peephole and find the fortified defenses around my place gone. I huff, looking back at my note. I didn't hear a single sound of life. I crumble the paper and aim it at the bin, dropping my shotgun on the couch as I walk past. A few more hours of sleep wouldn't hurt.

The aliens you've seen while living out in the woods have rarely been "friendly," but always benign. You have your space, they have theirs, rarely interacting... which is why you knew something was wrong when you found advanced defenses around your house and a hand-drawn warning to stay inside.

[eclipixels]

can you please write about first kiss with blue lock boys (reo(before blue lock), yukimiya and whoever you want)

First Kiss

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Rensuke Kunigami, Kenyu Yukimiya, Sae Itoshi, Ryusei Shidou, Michael Kaiser

Content: first kiss with blue lock boys

A/N: As much as I hate Kaiser.. I think the one I wrote for him is my fav... took a little inspiration from Katniss and Peeta

Yoichi Isagi

      The school festival was in full swing, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the clinking sounds of games being played. The colorful booths and stalls lined the courtyard, offering a mix of delicious food, fun activities, and a sense of excitement that seemed to electrify the entire student body. You’d always enjoyed these kinds of events, but today, it felt different. Your heart raced in a way you couldn’t quite place as you glanced around, looking for that one familiar face.

      You and Isagi went together, you were best friends, always going everywhere together. So then, why did this feel different? His dark blue hair was messy, his eyes were bright with enthusiasm, and his smile was contagious. He was thoughtful, kind, and a little bit awkward in that endearing way that made him seem all the more real.

      Your feet moved almost instinctively, bringing you closer to where he stood, and before you knew it, you were standing much much closer beside him, watching the chaos of the festival unfold. He turned his head, his face colored in a faint pinkish hue.

      The rest of your time was fun, you played a few games, got food, and now you were sitting on the grass, watching the fireworks in the evening sky.

      You both laughed, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise of the festival, the crowded space, it all felt distant as the two of you locked eyes, the world seeming to shrink down to just the two of you in that one moment.

      “I’m glad you’re here,” Isagi said, his voice softer now, though still filled with that warmth that made your heart flutter. “It’s fun, right?”

      You nodded, but you could feel your nerves creeping up. The excitement of the festival, the buzz of everything happening around you, and the simple fact that isagi was sitting so close—it made your heart beat faster.

      You didn’t have time to think about it, because in the next instant, your hands brushed. It was an accident at first, just the faintest touch as you both reached for a cup of punch at the same time. But the moment your fingers made contact, something shifted. The touch was brief, but there was a spark, a tiny jolt that shot through you like electricity.

      Your breath caught, and you looked up at him, startled by the intensity in his gaze. His eyes had gone from playful to something… softer, something deeper. He was looking at you like he saw something more than just a classmate, something more than just a friend.

      There was a beat of silence. Then another. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke.

      Your heart raced. Why was this so different? Why did it feel like the air between you two was charged with something you couldn’t explain? Isagi’s gaze was fixed on you, unwavering, as if he was reading every unspoken word in your eyes.

      Without a word, Isagi leaned in. It wasn’t sudden or forceful, just slow, like he was testing the waters, unsure of where this moment might go. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. You stayed still, your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, waiting.

      And then, it happened. His lips brushed against yours. A soft, tentative press, a touch that was almost shy, like neither of you quite knew what to do next.

      It was brief. Barely a second. But it felt like time had stretched out, like the entire world had paused just for you two. Isagi pulled away, his eyes wide, as if he were waiting for your reaction. His face flushed a deep red, and for the first time, you saw him look truly vulnerable—like he wasn’t sure if he had done something wrong.

      “Y/N, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I just—” His words were stumbling, unsure, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

      You shook your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips. You reached up and gently touched his arm, calming him down. “Yoichi, don’t apologize. It was… it was nice.”

Meguru Bachira

      The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the soccer field as you watched Bachira Meguru chase the ball with his usual chaotic energy. He was laughing, loud, unrestrained, and utterly carefree, and it was contagious. The way he moved, the way he lived in the moment, reminded you of a force of nature. He was always so full of life, like he could take on the world with that infectious grin of his.

      You, on the other hand, had always been a little more reserved. But when Bachira was around, it was hard not to get caught up in his whirlwind of excitement. And today, it was no different.

      You stood on the sidelines, chatting with a few friends, when your gaze wandered back to Bachira. He was running across the field, zigzagging between his teammates with wild, impossible twists of his body. He was all over the place, but somehow, always in control. The ball was at his feet one second, then flying into the air the next. It was almost like he was playing a different game than everyone else.

      As you watched him, your attention was drawn to the ball, soaring through the air toward you. It was coming in fast, and before you could react, it landed just a little too close to your feet. You instinctively reached for it, but the second you did, your foot collided with the ball, sending it spinning in the direction of Bachira.

      But of course, with Bachira, nothing was ever simple. In his rush to grab the ball, he tripped. His feet tangled up in the grass, and in a perfect, chaotic mess, he fell toward you. You barely had time to react before he collided with you, and the two of you tumbled to the ground in a heap of laughter and limbs.

      For a moment, there was nothing but a burst of giggles and the soft rustle of the grass beneath you. But then, in that moment of pure chaos, your lips met.

      It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t calculated. It was messy, awkward even, but there it was, a sudden kiss, as unexpected as the collision itself. Bachira’s eyes were wide at first, blinking in surprise, but then, just as quickly, his laugh bubbled up again. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed with excitement.

      “Well, that wasn’t how I planned this to go,” he chuckled, his voice light and full of energy.

Hyoma Chigiri

      The sterile scent of the hospital filled your nose as you walked down the long, white hallway. It was almost too quiet, too still, but you didn’t mind. Your focus was on one thing, and one thing only.

      The sound of your footsteps echoed as you made your way to his room, your thoughts running in circles. You had heard about his injury—his ligament tear—and you couldn’t believe how careless he’d been. Overworking himself, pushing his body too hard, as always. He was stubborn, and you were tired of it.

      The door to his room came into view, and your hand tightened around the handle. You weren’t sure if you were more worried or more frustrated, but you knew you needed to see him. Needed to get your thoughts out before they consumed you.

      You pushed the door open, and there he was, sitting up in bed, his leg propped up with a cast. His bright pink hair looked a little messier than usual, and his eyes flickered toward you the moment you entered. His lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was something tired in his gaze, like he didn’t quite have the energy to smile the way he usually did.

      "Hey," you said, trying to keep your voice level, though the concern was evident in your tone. "You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself."

      Chigiri didn’t respond immediately, his eyes lingering on you as you crossed the room and took a seat beside his bed. You couldn’t help but scold him, your voice rising with frustration.

      "You know you need to be careful! You can't just keep pushing your body like this. You’ve got to stop being so reckless. This isn’t just about your passion for soccer, you know? You could’ve ruined everything for yourself!"

      His eyes remained fixed on you, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. He had heard it all before. He knew what you were going to say, but for some reason, he didn’t want to interrupt. He admired the way you cared, the way you spoke from a place of concern. It made him feel… something. Something he couldn’t quite put into words.

      You didn’t notice at first, but Chigiri’s gaze had softened. The anger in your voice was passionate, but it was also a little heartbreaking. You wanted him to take care of himself. You wanted him to slow down, to listen.

      "I don’t need a lecture, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice low. His eyes were intense, but there was something else there, something that made your heart skip a beat

      You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Then why do you keep doing it?" You were about to keep going, but before you could continue, Chigiri’s hand shot out, lightly gripping your wrist. The movement was so sudden, so unexpected, that you froze.

      Before you could even process what had just happened, his lips were on yours.

      The kiss wasn’t forceful. It wasn’t urgent. It was gentle, tender, like he was trying to tell you something with the quiet press of his lips. Your heart raced in shock, the suddenness of it leaving you speechless. You didn’t pull away. Neither of you said anything. There was no need for words.

      When he finally pulled back, your chest was still heavy with the lingering feeling of the kiss. He didn’t look at you at first. Instead, his eyes were cast down, a soft pink hue coloring his cheeks. There was a moment of silence, the kind that hung between you two, as you both processed what had just happened.

      He was still holding your wrist, but his fingers relaxed, gently brushing against your skin. His eyes met yours. You had been the only girl in his heart ever since he met you, and now you had been the first on his lips too.

      "That’s the only way to get you to stop yelling at me, huh?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

      You blinked at him, your breath still shaky. There was no anger in his voice now, no frustration. Just the quiet acknowledgment of the moment that had passed between you.

      You didn’t know what to say. Maybe you should have been mad. Maybe you should have said something about how confusing all of this was. But instead, you just sat there, your heart still racing, knowing that somehow, Chigiri had found a way to quiet you in the most unexpected way possible.

Rin Itoshi

      Rin Itoshi had always been focused. Soccer was his life, his obsession. The only thing that mattered was winning, being the best, and proving everyone who doubted him wrong. He didn't have time for distractions, and certainly not for anything like emotions. Love was something he pushed aside, tucked deep in the corners of his mind where he could forget about it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

      It was another one of those days, the kind where he was training hard, pushing his body to its limits, and you had found yourself there, watching him. You weren’t there to praise him, though. You weren’t one of his fans or someone who adored his every move. No, you were there to challenge him, to push him in a way no one else dared to. Rin didn’t like it. You were the only one who had the audacity to stand up to him, to question his methods, to challenge his idea of what it meant to be the best.

      The argument had started over something small. A remark, a disagreement about his training regimen, and then it spiraled. Words were thrown back and forth, sharp and cutting, both of you refusing to back down. His jaw was clenched, his eyes cold as always, but there was a flicker of something else in them, something he didn’t fully understand yet.

      “You think you know better than me?” Rin growled, his voice laced with irritation.

      “I’m not challenging you because I think I’m better,” you shot back, your voice steady. “I’m challenging you because you think winning is the only thing that matters. But you’re missing everything else. You’re just too focused on the result to see the bigger picture.”

      His eyes narrowed at you, his lips curling into that familiar smirk. “You don’t understand anything.”

      “No,” you replied, stepping closer to him, not backing down an inch. “Maybe you don’t understand anything. Winning isn’t everything. It’s about why you play, who you play for.”

      For a moment, there was silence between you. Rin stood there, staring at you, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Your words rang familiar to what his brother had told him. He was quiet, contemplating your words, but his pride was too big, too strong to admit that maybe, just maybe, you had a point.

      Then, before either of you could say another word, something changed. He moved closer, faster than you expected, and in a split second, his lips were on yours.

      It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow. It was sharp, intense, and almost angry, like he was trying to prove something with that kiss, like he was trying to shut you up. You didn’t even have time to fully process what was happening before it was over, just a brief moment where everything else stopped, and there was only the sting of the kiss.

      When Rin pulled away, he didn’t look at you immediately. Instead, he looked off to the side, his expression unreadable, as if nothing had just happened. You stood there, completely taken aback, your heart racing in your chest, unsure of what to think. It wasn’t something you expected, not from him.

      “That’ll shut you up, won’t it?” he muttered, his voice softer than usual, though there was still a hint of frustration in it.

      You didn’t know how to respond. Your mind was too muddled, too filled with everything that had just transpired. The kiss had been so sudden, so unexpected. You thought it was nothing, just a way for him to get you to stop talking, to end the argument in the only way he knew how.

      As he disappeared into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same tug at his heart. But for now, you were left with a single truth, that kiss, as abrupt and sharp as it was, had changed everything.

Seishiro Nagi

      The sun was setting, casting a golden light through the window, but inside the room, everything felt still, almost suspended in time. Nagi Seishiro was fast asleep on the couch, his tousled hair sprawled across the pillow. His chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, the peacefulness of his expression betraying his usual aloof demeanor. He looked almost too serene, too detached from the world, like he didn’t have a care to worry about. And in that moment, you couldn't help but stare at him.

      You had developed a massive crush on him, though you weren’t sure how or when it happened. Nagi had this air about him, this effortless coolness that drew people in, and even though he always seemed distant, you found yourself captivated by him. Maybe it was the way he moved, like everything he did came so naturally to him, or the way he talked about soccer as if it was the only thing that mattered in the world. It wasn’t that you didn’t have your own dreams or goals, but there was something about Nagi that made you want to be near him, to understand him.

      You had found yourself sitting on the edge of the couch, just watching him sleep. You knew it was probably a little creepy, but there was something about the way he looked in that moment that made your heart race. You couldn’t help but get lost in the quietness, in the rhythm of his breathing. His scent filled your lungs. It was intoxicating in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

      You leaned in a little closer, your heart thudding in your chest, suddenly feeling like you were caught in a dream. Your face was only inches from his, and you couldn’t help but notice how soft his features were, how inviting his lips looked. The temptation was there, strong, but you immediately pulled back, embarrassed by the thought.

      But just as you were about to pull away completely, Nagi’s eyes fluttered open, a soft groan escaping him. He blinked a few times, his usual sleepy expression settling over his face. His gaze met yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. You felt your cheeks burn as you froze, your thoughts scattered. He was awake, and you had been caught staring.

      “Uh… sorry,” you stammered, trying to pull yourself back, but before you could retreat, Nagi did something that completely caught you off guard.

      He moved, slow but deliberate. You barely had time to react, still frozen in place, before his lips met yours.

      It was lazy, slow, almost surreal, like the world outside the two of you had ceased to exist. His lips were soft against yours, and for a second, it felt like time was stretching out, like you were drifting in a space between reality and a dream. His kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t filled with urgency. It was as if he was savoring the moment, just letting everything happen at its own pace. It wasn’t like what you’d imagined—it wasn’t dramatic or intense—but there was something about it that felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

      When he pulled away, there was a quiet moment of stillness between you. Nagi looked at you with a relaxed expression, the usual aloofness in his eyes replaced with something softer, something you couldn’t quite place.

      “…That was weird,” he muttered, as if he was still half-dazed from the nap.

      You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t find the words, too embarrassed to even finish the sentence.

      Nagi shrugged, his eyes flicking away briefly before meeting yours again. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. Did he like it too?

      “Strawberries,” he added, licking his lips, sitting up slightly, his gaze moving to the window where the last rays of sunlight filtered through.

      Nagi never really thought about kissing. But he enjoyed the way your lips tasted. He was inclined to do it more.

      Reo Mikage

      Reo Mikage had always been a perfectionist, a planner, someone who controlled every aspect of his life. He wasn’t someone who believed in doing things without careful thought, and especially not something as spontaneous as love. He was always focused on his goals, his ambitions, and his future. Love, to him, was just another distraction, a temporary feeling that had no place in his world. But that all changed the day he found himself in a moment with you that he couldn’t quite explain.

      You were sitting next to him on the rooftop of his parent’s penthouse, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon. The air had a chill to it, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You and Reo had been talking for a while, mostly small talk, casual, easy. His words were always so measured, always so precise, but with you, he seemed to drop his usual guarded demeanor, just a little. Maybe it was the way you listened to him, the way you made him feel like he didn’t have to perform, like he didn’t have to constantly prove himself.

      He had grown used to the polished image he’d crafted for himself, the one that everyone admired, the one that made him the ideal candidate for success. But there was something about you that made him want to open up, to stop pretending, if only for a little while.

      As the conversation drifted to a lull, Reo shifted next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. For a second, it felt like the world had stopped, like the moment was suspended in time, and the only thing that mattered was the two of you on this quiet bench, surrounded by the fading light.

      Your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous, why your heart started to race, but something about the way Reo was looking at you, with a softness in his eyes that you rarely saw, made it impossible to ignore. You could feel the weight of the tension between you two, like an unspoken question lingering in the air.

      Before you could even gather your thoughts, Reo turned slightly toward you, his gaze intense but not unfriendly. His usual confidence was still there, but there was something different this time.

      His lips parted slightly, and you thought he was about to say something. But instead, he did something that took you completely by surprise.

      He leaned in, just a little at first, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. And with that small permission, his lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was soft and almost hesitant. It wasn’t the passionate, sweeping kiss you had imagined, no, it was slower, quieter, like he was testing the waters, like he was unsure but couldn’t help himself. The kiss was tender, as if he was savoring the moment, letting it linger for a little longer than he usually would.

      You felt your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve in your body alive in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced before, and yet, it felt so right. You could feel his hand lightly resting on the side of your arm, like he was holding onto the moment as much as you were. It wasn’t a kiss of grand gestures or promises, it was simple, raw, and real.

      When he finally pulled away, Reo didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that told you he hadn’t expected it either, but that didn’t mean it was unwelcome.

      “You make things… different,” he said quietly, his voice low and almost unsure. "I don’t really know how to explain it, but… you’re not like anyone else."

      You blinked, still a little dazed from the kiss, trying to process his words.

      Reo smiled faintly, and for the first time, it wasn’t the usual confident, almost cocky smile he wore so often. This one was different. It was gentle, genuine.

      M’sorry, I just… I just want to feel something real.” he said, his eyes finally softening, and for once, you could see a glimpse of the uncertainty that he usually kept hidden behind his perfect facade.

      You didn’t have an answer for that. But as you sat there next to him, the last of the sunlight fading into twilight, you didn’t need to say anything at all.

      Reo got nervous. Did you not like it? Were you upset? All these doubts were interrupted by another kiss from you.

      The kiss had been the start of something new, something neither of you could quite define yet, but it was real, and that was enough.

      For Reo, it was the first time he had allowed himself to be so unguarded, so open with someone. For you, it was the concept that even in Reo Mikage’s perfectly controlled world, there was space for something as imperfect and beautiful as love.

Rensuke Kunigami

      Kunigami stood a few feet away, hands on his hips, chest still rising and falling from exertion. “You really don’t know how to quit, huh?” he said, shaking his head with a grin.

      You stretched your arms above your head, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Neither do you.”

      His chuckle was deep and warm. “Guess that’s why we work so well together.”

      You met his gaze, something unspoken passing between you. Kunigami has always been someone you admire, not just for his skill but for his unwavering dedication. He carried himself with a kind of quiet confidence, never arrogant but never uncertain. Being around him always made you push yourself harder, made you want to match his fire.

      “You’re staring,” he pointed out, one brow raised.

      You scoffed, looking away. “No, I’m not.”

      “Yes, you are.”

      “Maybe I just like looking at sore losers,” you teased.

      Kunigami huffed a laugh, stepping closer. The distance between you shrank, and suddenly, the playful air between you shifted into something heavier. His eyes softened, searching yours as if he was considering something—something big.

      His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Guess I gotta hold out on my end of the bet, huh?”

      “Yeah,” You murmured. You two had made a bet that whoever scored the most goals would have to do what the other said. You stepped closer, your eyes staring up into his eyes before whispering the fatal words that made his heart almost stop.

      You stood nervously, wondering if he’d actually do it. You prayed you hadn’t just messed up your friendship.

      Then, he leaned in.

      Kunigami kissed you like he played, fierce, controlled, but undeniably warm. His lips pressed against yours in a way that left no room for hesitation, yet it wasn’t rushed or overwhelming. It was steady, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it. His hands rested at your sides, firm but careful, like he wasn’t just holding you, he was grounding himself in you.

      You felt heat spread through your chest, your fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his jersey. The kiss was deep but not desperate, strong but not forceful. It was Kunigami—honest, intense, and full of meaning.

      When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I hope that wasn’t too forward,” he said, his voice slightly rough, almost nervous.

      You smiled, your heart still racing. “I would’ve been mad if you waited any longer.”

      Kunigami chuckled, and for a moment, the only thing between you was the quiet hum of the night. Then, his arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you into his chest with a sigh.

      “I’m gonna kiss you like that a lot more,” he murmured against your hair.

Kenyu Yukimiya

      The late afternoon sun painted the sky in shades of gold and pink, casting a warm glow over the quiet garden where you and Yukimiya sat. The air smelled like summer, fresh grass, distant flowers, and the faintest hint of sunscreen lingering on his skin. It was one of those perfect days, the kind that felt like it would last forever.

      “You always get this faraway look in your eyes,” Yukimiya mused, tilting his head as he watched you. His voice was smooth, laced with amusement, but there was something softer beneath it.

      You blinked, caught off guard. “I do?”

      He smiled, the kind that usually made people melt, but this time it wasn’t playful or teasing. It was quieter, more thoughtful. “Yeah. Like you’re thinking about something important.”

      You hesitated before answering, but something about the warmth in his gaze made it easy to be honest. “I guess I’m just… enjoying this. Being here with you.”

      A breeze swept through the garden, ruffling his hair, and for the first time, you noticed how soft his expression had become. His usual confidence was still there, but there was something deeper, like he was searching for the right words.

      Then, instead of speaking, he leaned in.

      The kiss was soft, featherlight, like the gentle touch of a summer wind. Yukimiya wasn’t the type to rush things, and this was no different. He kissed you as if he was afraid to break the moment, as if he wanted to make sure you felt everything he couldn’t say. His lips were warm, unhurried, carrying a quiet sincerity that surprised even him.

      “I enjoy being here with you, too” He let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head.

      You smiled, still caught in the haze of the moment. “You always talk like you know everything, but you sound pretty lost right now.”

      He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Guess you’re the first person to ever make me speechless.”

      You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt impossibly light. “That’s a first.”

      Yukimiya hummed, tilting his head. “I think I like firsts with you.”

Sae Itoshi

      Sae Itoshi didn’t believe in pointless things. Everything he did had a purpose, every move he made was deliberate. That’s why, when he kissed you, it wasn’t out of sentiment or impulse. It was to prove a point.

      You had challenged him, pushed back against his sharp words, never letting his cold exterior intimidate you. Most people tried to win his approval, to stay in his good graces. You? You argued, you questioned, and worst of all, you made him feel things he had no time for.

      So, when you stood in front of him, eyes locked in a silent battle, he acted. He leaned in, closing the distance with the same precision he applied to everything in his life. His lips met yours in a kiss that was meant to unnerve you, to throw you off balance. It was measured, controlled, just like him.

      But then, something shifted.

      The way you responded, just as unyielding, just as certain, sent something sharp through him, something unfamiliar. He had expected hesitation, surprise. Instead, you kissed him back, matching his intensity without faltering. His fingers twitched at his sides, resisting the urge to reach for you, to pull you closer.

      This wasn’t supposed to happen. He felt the overwhelming urge to fall to his knees for you. Erm, what the hell?

      “That was calculated,” you murmured, lips curling into the faintest smirk. “Wasn’t it?”

      Sae’s jaw tightened. “Obviously.”

      You tilted your head, watching him like you saw right through him. “Then why do you look like you just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing?”

      He scoffed, turning away, irritation flickering in his chest. “You’re annoying.”

      But the worst part? You were right. Because no matter how much he wanted to treat it like just another move on the board, that kiss had left an imprint he couldn’t ignore. And for the first time, Sae Itoshi realized there were some things, even within himself, that he couldn’t control.

Ryusei Shidou

      Being around Shidou was like standing in the middle of a storm, unpredictable, exhilarating, and completely overwhelming. He did everything with reckless abandon, throwing himself into life the same way he played soccer, with no hesitation, no second-guessing.

      So, it wasn’t a surprise that his first kiss happened in the middle of absolute chaos.

      Shidou thrived on competition, on the thrill of pushing boundaries, and you, somehow, had become his favorite challenge. You never backed down, never gave him the reaction he expected. And that only made him want to push further.

      Before you could fire back another remark, he grabbed your wrist, tugging you forward. His lips crashed against yours with the same reckless intensity he brought to everything else in his life, wild, unfiltered, all-consuming. He didn’t ease into it, and didn't wait for permission.

      And the worst part? You kissed him back just as fiercely.

      It was all heat, all fire, a clashing of wills with no room for second thoughts. The world blurred around you, but neither of you cared. When he finally pulled away, he was breathless, but grinning, satisfied.

      “Damn,” he muttered, running his tongue over his bottom lip like he was already thinking about doing it again. He had always wanted to kiss someone, but it had to be the right person. He didn’t know why he felt that way, or why he just knew it had to be with you. “That was better than I expected.”

      You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your pulse was still racing. “Cocky as ever.”

      He tilted his head, smirking. “You love it.”

      “Prove it.”

      Maybe you did. Maybe kissing Ryusei Shidou was just like everything else about him, thrilling, dangerous, impossible to forget. And maybe, just maybe, you were just as reckless as he was.

Michael Kaiser

      The rain came down in relentless sheets, soaking the streets and turning the sky into a dull gray haze. You were closing up the bakery, the comforting scent of fresh bread lingering in the air, when you saw him, Michael Kaiser, standing just outside in the downpour.

      He was a local kid you started some sort of a friendship with. You didn’t exactly know much about him, but you knew that he came from a troubled home and did whatever he could to survive.

      He looked miserable, dripping wet with his arms crossed, as if defying the cold. But his pride wouldn’t let him move, wouldn’t let him come inside even though you knew he wanted to.

      “You’re going to get sick,” you called out, stepping into the doorway.

      Kaiser scoffed, blue eyes flicking to you. “Not my problem.”

      You sighed, already used to his sharp tongue. Without another word, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in, ignoring his protests. The warmth of the bakery wrapped around him instantly, chasing away the damp chill of the storm.

      “You’re soaked,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Wait here. My mom will find you some clothes.”

      He didn’t answer, just watched as you disappeared into the back. The flickering light above him buzzed softly, the only sound apart from the steady rain outside. His gaze drifted to the counter, where a fresh loaf of bread sat cooling.

      You had always given him food, never asking for anything in return, never making him feel like a beggar. It annoyed him at first. He hated owing people, hated feeling like someone else had the upper hand. But you never looked at him with pity. Just kindness.

      By the time you returned, he was staring at the floor, hands clenched into fists.

      “Here,” you said, handing him a towel. He took it wordlessly, running it over his hair with slow, deliberate movements.

      For once, he had nothing to say. No sarcastic remarks, no sharp-edged response. Just a strange, heavy silence. His eyes were on you, watching everything you did. Why did you have to be so nice and pretty?

      Then, before he could stop himself, he reached for you.

      His lips met yours in a quick, almost desperate kiss. It was clumsy, unpracticed, nothing like the confident, calculating Kaiser he would grow into. But in that moment, he wasn’t thinking. He just knew that there was something inside him that tightened whenever he looked at you, something that made him want to pull you closer even when he swore he didn’t need anyone.

      When he pulled away, his breath was uneven. Your wide eyes searched his, confusion flickering across your face.

      “Michael—”

      “I don’t owe you anything,” he said quickly, almost defensive. His grip on the towel tightened. “Got it?”

      You stared at him for a moment before sighing. “You’re such an idiot.”

      And then you handed him a warm roll of bread, just like you always did. Like nothing had changed.

      But something had.

      Because long after the rain stopped, long after he left that night, Michael Kaiser knew one thing for certain, he didn’t just want to repay you. He wanted you. Oh, he wanted you bad.

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Chapter II: “Dancing with fabric (and glances).”

WARNING: Panic attack

Masterlist

I was on a stage, too big to be a normal one or at least that was my perspective. I was wearing my suit, with the fans in my hands as the fabric touched the floor.

There was no one by my side, I was alone.

There was no one in the seats in the audience either, not a single person to watch me dance at that moment.

I let out a sigh. I started dancing.

The music in my head started playing but now it also started to be heard on the stage. slowly. Little by little. The music continued to grow.

I moved with the fabric of the fans that slowly became longer and longer.

I reached a point where I could no longer appreciate what was in front of me, I could no longer feel the cold floor of the theater.

But the lights. They were getting brighter as the music came to an end.

They wrapped me up in such a soft way, it was so suffocating.

I always wanted to be in the spotlight, to be the leader, to be the one leading the dance.

Why does it feel so different now?

I fell to my knees at the same time that the music slowly stopped along with that voice that made me remember that everything was a dream.

I hadn't realized how big the fan fabric was now, so long that it reached to the ends of the stage, The skirt also grew now it was so long and big that I couldn't stand up because of the weight of the fabric on my waist.

It shouldn't have been heavy, but it was.

It's too big for me.

When the fan fabric stopped, I fixed my gaze on the audience.

The only lights were above me, they moved where I was going but never where I wanted.

I couldn't shine light on them. I wanted to shine light on them to see their faces.

What expressions will they have? Are they waiting for me to keep dancing? Even though I can't get up, they want me to continue with the show?

Just talk, say it.

I will, just please...

Stop

Looking

at me.

[Name] immediately gets up from her bed feeling her heart beating quickly and painfully, her feet were numb as were her arms.

While she was sitting in her bed, she tried to relax. Is this what people call "lucid dreaming"?

When she finally felt her legs and arms move just a little to get used to it, it felt like a million ants were walking on her limbs.

She sighed and then tried to get up, she managed it but a little wobbly.

She grabbed a towel along with a set of clothes to go to the bathroom.

She loved her new room, I think it would be more accurate to call it her fiveteenth room.

Compared to the previous one, which was already starting to be quite small for her and too childish, in an attempt to free up her room a bit as she ran out of space.

She found a not so small door in the ceiling, she could barely open it and saw the enormous space that had moved to that hidden part of the mansion.

But obviously being a attic, it didn't have a bathroom, that was the only thing [Name] regretted.

Once she could feel her arms and feet much better she opened the attic door and carefully went down the stairs.

"What are you doing up there, little one?"

[Name] almost fell down the stairs from the fright, she immediately looked back even though she was on the stairs to...

"First with the child...and now with the hypocrite." [Name] thought, trying not to frown, well, not so much.

"Dick, you scared me!" She did her best to fake that squeaky voice she remembers.

And thank goodness it worked. Except for one small detail.

Dick frowned.

"Dick?"

"Did something happen? Or why that face?" She finally came down from the stairs and with a little force, she pushed the stairs up and in turn closed the attic door with a small 'click'.

"What face?"

"Well, you know, that confused face..." She smiled slightly, but inside her head she was analyzing him, exactly his expression.

Dick genuinely had a face of confusion hidden, he was smiling and using his body to express otherwise.

But his eyes narrowed for a few moments before she asked about his expression.

"Oh! Don't worry little one, It's just that I've never seen that attic, and with good reason."

Dick walked past [Name] and checked the entrance to the attic better, either tensely or intentionally the entrance was very well camouflaged.

[Name] nodded. "I thought you'd be in Bludhaven by now."

"I decided to stay a few days, mostly to rest." [Name] nodded again, keeping that small smile. "And you didn't answer my question."

"What question?"

Dick laughed at her confusion.

"What were you doing up there?"

[Name] opened her mouth slightly and then closed it instantly, What the hell could she say?

"Umm, well, I was looking for some things for my dance classes!"

"Your dance classes?"

"Yep! When I found that place I started using it as a place to store some clothes or supplies that they sometimes ask us for in class." This time the tone was a little shriller, it was a mix between the voice she was faking and the nervousness of being caught.

Dick only looked at her for a few moments before instantly lowering the attic door without breaking his gaze.

"First, it's bad to lie to your brother and second, you're a very bad liar, little one." Dick smiled before carefully climbing the stairs, frowning at the unsteady ladder.

[Name] just sighed in frustration. "Let's see, how the fuck did Dick fucking Grayson know I'd be here?" She didn't say anything, nothing came out of her mouth.

Dick on the other hand was greatly surprised by what was inside, two mattresses one on top of the other, a nightstand, two not so large trunks accompanied by drawers to store clothes.

There were some hand-painted colorful bottles hanging in the higher parts of the attic, surely her creations.

The only lights illuminating the place were the skylight, a row of light bulbs, and the lamp on the nightstand.

It was a room.

Why would his sister sleep here?

Why didn't he know this?

Why...she didn't tell him about this?

"[Name]" He called her but there was no answer.

He turned around and with a leap landed in the hallway of the mansion, leaving the attic.

Only to realize she was gone.

"Shit..." He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. "Was this always her room?.."

Of course not.

And that was what was causing him an uncomfortable stomach ache.

He glanced at the attic that was still open, his curiosity got the better of him again, he went back in.

But this time he looked more closely at the "room."

The lights were off leaving only the skylight as a light source, it felt quite comfortable actually.

The orange and yellow light of dawn began to stream even further through the skylight, starting to flood some parts of the room with its light.

But the moment the light reached a certain angle of the room, everything lit up with colors, distracting Dick a little.

The lights from the bottles illuminated the rest of the room, which was still dark.

Now the whole room was illuminated without even a single artificial light switch on. Dick stood admiring for several long minutes the little light show his sister had created.

That admiration turned into something else when he noticed that on top of one of the trunks was a medium-sized box.

He walked over slowly, grabbed the box and sat down on the makeshift bed.

A long skirt and a very long fabric was the first thing she saw, but what caught her attention was the only colored fabric that was in that box.

Two fans with gradients of warm colors, yellow, orange and red. Red was what remained the most on both fans.

"This is what Alfred gave you...I don't think it's suitable for a girl of your age-"

Wait.

"How old are you?."

[Name] arrived at the bathroom tired from running, well, now she has to get away from Dick, how ironic.

"Oh. My. GOD." She immediately leaned against the bathroom wall and slowly lowered herself until she ended up sitting.

She brought her hands to her hair, ruffling it quite a bit.

"Will this affect anything? I mean, technically do I travel back in time, or am I reincarnated? IT DOESN'T MATTER." She jumped back up and began pacing back and forth.

"Actions have consequences, allowing Dick into my room will surely change something..." [Name] stopped instantly.

"In fact... he, no, no one, found that place, at no time during my childhood until I left...What did I do?-"

Her breathing gradually began to become more agitated than before.

She felt her palms getting sweatier than before, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach and all the air she had been knocked out of her but she couldn't get it back no matter how hard she tried.

Gradually her legs as well as her hands began to shake, she didn't feel it because she was so lost in her head until she fell to the floor.

Her legs gave out as she trembled and she brought her hands to her chest. She felt dizzy.

Ten minutes passed, she still felt the trembling in her hands but her legs stopped shaking, she was still kneeling on the floor.

The dizziness disappeared but the result was a sharp headache.

"Shit...and I have to go to school." She muttered as she tried to stand up with the help of the sink. "Please, just for today, no more surprises."

"Whoever is behind this, leave me the surprises when I find a way to get back and leave here..."

If there is any way. Safe.

NOTES: Heyyyyy guess who's back? Well I genuinely hope you all like it.

You know, if you want to ask questions, ask them, and if you want to be on the taglist, let me know in the comments.

In the end! I love you muak muak muak💋

TAGLIST:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864 @eyeless-kun @welpthisisboring @saiichai @leeiasure @shycreatorreview @bat1212 @vanessa-boo @midnightgrimoire @thereeallink @c4xcocoa @jsprien213 @stargirl404 @chericia @a-lurking-fae @kye-chen-r @alittletiredcry @lfiee @mishkapi @cxcilla @alittlelostmoonchild @ocean-mochi @randomlyappearingartist @thegothamsiren @lilithskywalker @gmwtsw @deathbynarcisstick @wizzerreblogs @mariadvorak @stardustnightfall @cristy-101

[logoleptic-since-06]

Every Corner of This House is Haunted

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, Angst, Profanity, Reader and Nanami are in their 30s, Not Proofread

Chapter VIII -> Masterlist if this Series

As you stare at your almost ex husband in front of you, a flashback plays in a film reel at the back of your mind. Meeting him for the first time, your first date, your wedding, moving in with him, him getting promotions after promotions, a distance forming between you, leaving him, signing the divorce papers, kissing Suguru–

You jerk awake from your thoughts, guilt creeping into your chest as your breathing becomes more laboured. It worsens when Kento looks up and for the first time in over a month, your eyes meet. The film reel pauses as if it were truly a movie, and so does everything and everyone around you two. An unknown force moves you closer to the booth he is sitting at.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says simply, his voice collected as always.

For some reason, you tell him, “I kissed Suguru.”

A single tick of his jaw, a single twitch in his eye– his reaction is subtle, almost unnoticeable, but holds more power than the ocean during a storm.

“I didn’t know he was in town,” the calm in his tone is almost dangerous.

Almost.

“He was for a few days.”

“I see.”

There is an electrifying silence until he breaks it. “Did you want it to happen?”

“I didn’t want to do it, it was in the heat of the moment. And that’s not a justification, I know. I don’t want to justify myself, I just want you to know I regret it.” You learn more about yourself as the words leave your mouth. Seeing Kento unexpectedly seems to have opened a gateway in your brain– the gateway that leads you to finally process what you did with Suguru.

He doesn’t get mad. He never gets mad, he never yells. That’s not Kento. Instead, he asks, “Then why did you do it?”

“I was afraid,” you tell him truthfully. “I was afraid that I didn’t know a life without you, afraid that I would need you for the rest of my life. So I kissed him, partially to prove to myself that I didn’t need you, and partially because I was selfish and wanted validation.”

His silence makes your heart clench, so you go on, finally admitting the truth to both yourself and him. “But when I did, I felt nothing. Not validated, not less scared. But one thing I became sure of was that I didn’t need you. I never did. I want you, and I want you to want me. In a way you never did until I walked away.”

“I neglected you,” he says finally. “I neglected you and told myself it was for your own good. That if I had a little more money, a little more luxury, we would lead a happier life. I was so caught up with greed that I’d forgotten to treasure the greatest form of happiness I was blessed with. You.”

This is when your tears come running down your eyes. This conversation has been long due, and it kills you to think it took a disaster for this conversation to happen. He goes on, “I know things will never be the same, and I know we are both flawed people.”

You know what he’s about to say next, so you say it instead. “But I want to make things work.”

He nods once.

The tension in the air doesn’t snap, but it softens. Your heartbeat becomes steadier. “We take it slow?”

His voice is smooth as ever. “We do it together.”

A/N: If you saw me post this a few hours ago, no you didn't. (I forgot to tag)

Tags: @itsafairytalekay  @qualitygiantshoepsychic  @uzuimirika  @coffeeandcrimeshows  @lov3vivian  @lady-of-blossoms  @lavenderdaydream97  @gigiiiiislife  @yeehawbrothers  @heartsforkento  @loveliest-ghostwriter  @darkstudentsaladbakery    @for-hearthand-home  @creative1writings  @corvid007  @realesttruther  @jades-bullshit  @patpatspatz  @yunho-leeknow  @layuhsblog  @luringfantasy  @justbelljust  @nanamiswife22 @belle-oftheball34  @gradmacoco

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh, this chapter was just deliciously angsty!!! Just my cup of tea loll 😇

Loved every minute of it 😍😍

Oh, Micheal is just such a lovely, lovely person, isn't he? 😒 In the words of Taylor Swift: Michael doesn't measure up in any measure of a man...

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Why did his wording here remind me so much of that? 😂😂

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Noooo dead ���💀

Hahaha omfg I loved Sam so much during this chapter! He was awesome!!! Go Lawyer!Sam 😎🤎 (And I have no idea if you intended for my mind to jump to Changing Channels and French Mistake Sam with these lines, but it did, so THANK you 🤣🫶)

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said.

I do understand his struggle after the war, but it's literally NO excuse to treat his wife like shit, cheat on her, lie to her, spend her money for his trashy sidepiece, and God knows what else. You don't want an anchor? Fine. Get divorced. The fact he keeps her around and won't let her find her own happiness after she literally saved his life is so mind-boggingly selfish smh The least he could to show his gratitude is not be a gigantic cuntface 🤬

You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

Ugh, God, poor thing! 😭💔 With all the romanticism of that period sadly also comes the shame of taboo topics (not to mention feminism in general taking a backseat lol) Really feel for her here! Wish she wouldn't blame herself as much. Her husband is a dirtbag 😔

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him. “Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

SCREAMING 😳😳😳

The whole flower shop scene was like watching a train wreck. Poor Dean! So many stingers in those few sentences!! 😩 (And man, I wanna choke Michael!!! Buying flowers? Dinner? Are you fucking kidding me??? WHAT THE F–???)

But did you stop the angst there? Nope! The reader part of me hated you, while the writer part highly commended you 😂💜

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured. A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

I already knew it wouldn't be fast, but I knew this was going to be a problem. Where would she stay during this? Michael certainly won't have it, and I really fear for her safety here 🥺 (Reading the teaser for the last part, I think I have good reason to, even though I know you said once earlier I didn't need to. Still, you got me shaking here, girl 😅)

Surprised Sam wouldn't think about that, considering everything he found out about the guy so far 👀

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

This was such a dreamy, swoon-worthy movie scene *sighs* 😍🫠

And then they had to start talking, didn't they? Specifically Dean. The infamous DW self-loathing enters the AU 😆

I really just wanted to cover his piehole and tell him to stop talking, kiss her for real, and take her with you. Hide out in Kansas till everything blows over 😭

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.” Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

It hurts. It hurts so much...

And I'm so glad the brothers had a long overdue chat as well! I still feel so incredibly heartbroken for Dean 😭

I can't wait for the last part of this & how it all will tie together in the end! Eeeek! This is so, so, so incredibly good, friend!!! 😍😍😍 (And I get to read it on Patreon tonight too hehe 🩵)

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.”

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.” 

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes. 

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory—of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list. 

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.” 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you. 

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.  

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?” 

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.  

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you. 

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far. 

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp. 

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.” 

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel. 

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand. 

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol 

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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[lightsoutmatthews]

"I´m just so tired." - Joseph Woll

summary: student teaching is draining all the energy from you, luckily your boyfriend is there to support you every step of the way.

Pairing: Joseph Woll x female!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none, mostly fluff maybe a little angst

authors notes:

this was inspired by my own student teacher placement a few months ago, luckily I had a much better experience than the reader

--------------------------------------------------

You leaned your head against the cool material of the front door as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment. The quiet that loomed over the place a strong contrast to the chaos and loud noise you had experienced at school the entire day.

You knew your boyfriend was still at the rink, getting some work done with the trainers after lunch with some of his teammates. At the moment you were thankful for it. Speaking being the last thing you wanted to do right now.

It was the second to last week of your placement as a student teacher in a middle school a few blocks from where you lived, and you were exhausted. You knew it would be a stressful time, especially, since this was the first time you would stand in front of a class after being in university for years but the responsibilities your mentor teacher put on you aside from basically running her class the last two weeks were piling up and becoming too much.

You were looking forward to spring break in a few weeks, you and Joseph having booked a quick getaway to a sunny island during the NHLs four nations break, you just had to get trough the next weeks. Keeping your head up, accepting everything that would be thrown at you from the school administration, university and your mentor teacher.

Thinking about how she asked you to plan an outdoor day for the seventh grade in the middle of winter a freezing city like Toronto made your head hurt. “Just to get the students active, you know.” She said, an almost evil grin on her face. “It will be a fun goodbye for them.” She added, smirking even more.

Where you would find an outdoor activity where the students wouldn’t complain about freezing 15 minutes in you didn’t know but you had to come up with something over the weekend.

Slowly you put your bag down next to the wardrobe in the hallway and took of your shoes and jacket before letting out a loud sigh. There were some chores you still had to do, things you put off for days because you were so busy planning lessons all day when you were not at school, but you simply could not motivate yourself to do it right now. Just the thought made you want to cry.

Instead, you slumped down on the couch, closing your eyes, trying to keep the tears from spilling. This wasn’t the first time you thought about quitting the whole thing, maybe teaching wasn’t the job you actually wanted to do for the rest of your life. But then you saw the smile on the students faces when you did a fun activity with them, or when you took the time to acknowledge their needs and helped them to understand what you talked about and there was nothing you would rather do in your life than see this for the rest of it.

The tears started to spill over the rims of your eyes when you thought about how you should not rest and rather start to look up activities for next week, but it was like you lost all ability to move. Your head pounded and shivers ran over your arms even though it was fairly warm in the apartment.

The quiet being too much and not enough at the same time. You were longing for the arms of your boyfriend who would rub your back and tell you everything would be alright. Unfortunately, you had no idea when he would be home.

Time passed like it was frozen, minutes felt like hours. The tears kept running down your cheeks, quiet sobs leaving your mouth every now and then.

You didn’t even register when the front door opened, multiple voices filling the living space. With closed eyes you took a deep breath. Dealing with Josephs teammates was the last thing you wanted to do right now, as much as you loved them, but you were ready to put on the face of the perfect hostess, just like always.

“Guys, I´m sorry but you need to leave.” The words barely reached your ears. Confused mumbles from the hallway before a familiar voice quietly said something you could not quite make out. Shortly after the apartment was quiet again, apart from the sounds of your boyfriend hanging up his jacket.

His footsteps heavy on the wooden floor of your apartment. His scent – a mix of his usual body wash and a hint of cinnamon – filling your nose before he was in your line of sight. The worry on his face was unmistakable.

You registered that he was speaking to you, but you ears felt they were filled with cotton balls. Tuning out most of his words.

His soft touch on your arm made you jump, which made him back off immediately. “Sweetheart.” He mumbles; his words finally being registered by your brain. When you didn’t reply he simply sat down on the couch and gave you space.

The both of you sat in silence for a bit, you still silently crying. You knew it was killing him to not pull you into his arms and try to calm you down. His twitching hands being an indication that he was close to breaking and reaching out to you, but he knew you better than to get into your space when you didn’t want it.

When you eventually reached your hand out and interlinked his with yours, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you in a comforting cocoon. His right hand softly brushing over your back, the other one holding you close to his chest. “What happened at school today?” He whispered, his mouth close to your ear.

It took you a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before you managed to speak, your hands were trembling, and your breathing was short from the minutes of crying. “I´m just so tired, Joe.”  An even more worried frown mixed with a hint of understanding appeared on his face, while you buried your face in his shoulder, trying not to break out in tears again.

He grabbed your face with both hands and softly made you look at him. When he wiped your tears away and softly started rubbing your cheeks your heart melted at the tender action. “Oh, sweetheart.” He whispered. “Please tell me what happened, how can I make it better?” His fixer personality trait coming through again made you hiccup whimper.

“It´s all too much.” You mumbled. “My mentor teacher is the meanest woman I have ever come across, she has me running her class for the past two weeks while she relaxes in the teachers’ lounge during the lesson. Now she wants me to find an outdoor activity that lasts for multiple hours for next Thursday, in the middle of freaking winter in Canada.” You slammed your hand on the couch, one of the decorative pillows falling to the floor because of the force. “I´m supposed to learn from her, not be her stand in.” You spit before slumping down on the couch again.

“At the same time, I´m so behind on household chores, I haven’t folded laundry in four days, I haven’t taken the trash out or dusted. When I get home in the afternoon, I am too tired. I feel bad for leaving it all hanging, I don’t want to burden you with it during your busy schedule.” He leaned back and looked at you with wide eyes. His hands grabbing yours, to stop them from shaking in the same motion.

“Baby, what do you mean you don’t want to burden me with it?” The offended tone of his voice made your gut wrench. You didn’t want to answer him, but you did it anyways.

“You hockey schedule is so busy, especially now, with you having to play so many games with Anthony out. I don’t want to disrupt your recovery time with stupid tasks like taking the trash out or dusting the shelves.”

He started to rub his neck. You pulled back your hands and started to knead them as you looked anywhere but his direction.

“Sweetheart, look at me.” He grabbed your hands again which made you turn back towards him, giving him your full attention. “Tasks around the house are not stupid tasks. And I live here just as much as you do, so asking me to do stuff like cleaning or taking out the trash is not disrupting my recovery. It´s what I should do, it´s what I should do more even. I´m sorry it all fell back on you. Especially, since you´re having such a hard time.”

He pulled you back onto his lap and softly rubbed the back of your neck. “You´re my girlfriend, not my maid. You don’t have to cook and clean for me, especially not when you have more important things to do, and your studies are more important.”

His sweet words made your blush and wanting to cry at the same time. He was too good for this world, too sweet compared to the other relationships you had been in before. This was still so new to you.

He softly tipped your head up and placed a lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you, never forget it.” He whispered against them.

“I love you too.” You whispered back but let out a loud sigh at the same time. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to tell him what was on your mind. Your buried your head in your hands over his shoulder, heavy breaths leaving your mouth as you thought. His hands going back to rubbing softly over your shoulders.

The action was comforting. You wished you would be able to spend the rest of time being comforted by him. He made you feel at ease with everything. Like you were able to conquer the world with him by your side.

“I still need to find this outdoor activity. I haven’t taken my mind off this since leaving school.” Another loud sigh left your mouth.

You heard Joseph rustle. When you looked up from leaning on his shoulder, he had pulled out his phone and was frantically typing on it. For a moment you were taken aback. You had just told him you were struggling with finding an activity and he was texting?

When he looked up and saw your hurt face his changed into a smile with his signature giggle. “I´m listening, and I´m solving your problem. Not texting anyone unimportant, I promise.” He pulled you back against him and placed a kiss to your head before he went back to his phone.

“Does the activity have to be outdoor outdoor, like actually outside? Or is an outdoor sport enough?” You squinted your eyes, confusion written all over your face.

Still, you took a moment to think, your mentor teacher did not specify what kind of outdoor it had to be. “Just get the students active.” Was all your mentor teacher said. So, you guessed an outdoor sport inside would technically work. Even though you had no idea what his plan was.

“I mean, technically that should work. What are you thinking?” He didn’t answer, just smiled and went back typing.

After about five minutes he stopped and looked at you with a confident and happy expression. You raised your eyebrows, curious about what he was about to tell you.

“So, how would you feel about coming out to Ford Performance Center with your students.” Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait actually?” You yelped. He chuckled and placed his phone on the living room table to give you his full attention again.

“Yes, sweetheart, actually.” He laughed. “I texted some people from the team, asking if we could make it happen, and they said it was no problem. The Marlies are on the road so you can technically be on their ice as long as you want. Their words, not mine.”

You swung your arms around his neck, plastering his face with kisses. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I will write an email to the school immediately so they can get the permission slips set up and sent to the parents over the weekend.”

He wrapped his arms around you tightly and laughed, throwing his head back. “It´s nothing.” He waved it off, but this was everything to you. He not just listened to the problem and your worries, he actively went and solved it.

You scrambled off his lap to get to your desk to get everything ready, but he held you down before you could get up. “One more thing.” He said, a cheeky smile on his face.

“How would your students feel about shooting some pucks at an actual NHL goaltender, and skating with a couple of other Leafs?”

[fou4summer]

New Student

yoo jaeyi × fem!reader

Synopsis: First day in your new school. You just wanted to blend in and get through the year unnoticed. But Yoo Jaeyi, the school's top student with an icy reputation, seems to have other plans.

Warnings: drugs, bullying, i don't think there is any beside those.

Genre: Fluff

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were determined to keep a low profile at your new school. The last thing you wanted was to attract too much attention. As a new student, your focus was getting through the day without any drama, and just getting used to your new environment and classmates. They were actually pretty decent, not everyone of course. On that day you went in the uniform of the previous school cause you didn't know where to get the new one. Guess they found it too funny. Especially one girl, Na-ri. Or atleast you think that was her name. She was getting on your nerves, cause after you got the uniform from some random seller online she ruined it by pouring a drink on it "by accident". You went to the bathroom to wash off the red stain on your uniform and you bumped into the person you never wanted to talk to, Yoo Jaeyi.

She seemed like a problem. It was obvious she was rich and spoiled. But you didn't know why she asked you to sit with her on your first day or why she helped you escape the principal the other day. She was suspicious and you just wanted to avoid talking or even being near her. After bumping into her she apologized, bowing slightly towards you. You looked at her confused but you said that its fine and walked past her. She turned around to look at you while smiling.

-

You were now cleaning the ruined uniform when someone hugged you from behind. "You fit perfectly in my arms." The person behind you in a calm voice. You knew who it was so you jerked away. As you turned around, Yoo Jaeyi was standing there eyes wide cause you pushed her away. She was holding a white shirt that goes under the dark green uniform. "So...we're about the same size. I always keep a few extra shirts in my locker in case I get them dirty, which I can't stand." She chuckles in the end before handing you the shirt

"Thank you, but I don't need it." You said continuing to wash your clothes in the sink. Yoo Jaeyi went quiet for a bit, and then she sighed. "You can't wear wet and dirty clothes, come on wear thi-" She was cut off by you turning around and throwing the shirt she gave you. "Listen Jaeyi, I'm not like you. Not rich, and not gonna wear those. Even if my clothes are ruined I will still wear them. Do you not understand when I tell you that I don't need it, why do you keep insisting? Not everyone appreciates your kindness." You raised your voice at her as she remained quiet but shocked by your sudden change. Then her face went to her cold state again as she looked directly at you.

"Alright. Do as you wish." Jaeyi looked away from you walking towards the exit. At the same time she threw the shirt away. The moment she walked away you felt bad. Really bad. Cause she was the only person who actually talked to you normally without teasings and laughs about your uniform, or your past. You let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding before getting dressed. As you stepped into the classroom everyone's eyes were on you and your see through shirt. You sat in your seat before opening the book.

-

"I think I feel bed for Y/N, Na-ri went too far." Choi said while walking home with Jaeyi and Yeri. They were all super rich but they never found bullying interesting like other classmates. "Wait Na-ri did that to her?" Jaeyi shot back with a serious tone. Yeri chuckled looking over at Choi who just nodded. "Did you guys know she's on drugs?" She then added while fixing her makeup. Choi looked over before looking back at the other girl. "Who in our class isn't, come on." Jaeyi stated before calling her dad. Not so long after three girls parted their ways.

Over the next few days you felt like someone was always watching you, but whenever you turned around there was no one. Actually what you didn't know it was always the same person, Yoo Jaeyi. She followed you everywhere. One day she was with one of the classmates having dinner. She told her that Na-ri had bought drugs from her and she can use it against her, so she did. When Na-ri was just minding her business in the girls toilet someone pulled her hair. She yelled but she instantly apologized when she saw who it was. Jaeyi smirked before zooming in the camera. "Do you want the whole school to know our Na-ri is on drugs, hm?" She told her while laughing. The other girl got on her knees and begged her to delete the video. "Na-ri! Who told you to touch what's mine?" Jaeyi whispered after ending the recording on her phone.

Next couple of days Na-ri didn't come to school and everyone got confused until our homeroom teacher told us she transferred schools. You were smart but you would never guess that Yoo Jaeyi did it. I mean why would she? She probably transfered cause of family problems or something like that. Until you got told what actually happened. Choi never really talked to you unless it was something about school meetings or studies but now she was telling you why the girl actually moved to another school. "It was Jaeyi, she made her do it." She told you while scrolling through her gallery to find the video she got sent. After handing you the phone you were terrified. Why would she be so obsessed with you? What are you to her to do somrthing like this for you?

"I gotta go, I'll see you tommorow. Thank you for telling me the thruth." She looked at you confused but waved a goodbye, then you ran home. This can't distract you from studying. So you took the pills you stole and swallowed them with a glass of water. You studied the whole day, until you actually felt hungry. You didn't feel like making something, so you went to the closest convenience store. On your way there you were thinking about everything and how it was draining you slowly. You were just sitting at the bench, lost in your thoughts. You didn't even feel the rain start, but someone else did. That someone was now standing in front of you with an umbrella. When you looked up you saw her.

"Jaeyi..." She smiled before helping you get up. You were just staring at each other until she finally spoke. "You will get sick like this, how about you come over so I can give you some dry clothes." She was speaking just above her average tone because of the hard rain. "No I'm fine, my house is not far away." You lied, and she knew that. "It is far awa- I meant my house is closer, yeah." She cleared her throat and you wondered how does she know you lied about it? In the end you were too tired to argue and you remebered that you have to confront her about Na-ri so you went with her.

-

Her house was huge, like a mansion. When you entered her room her dog barked, making you flinch. She laughed and started playing with him. You calmed down and ran your fingers through his white fur. Her room was also huge and she had skateboards on her wall. Didn't know she was into that, you thought. After her dog got tired of playing you guys sat on her bed. "Why were you alone there...?" She asked looking into your eyes. Your thoughts came back, thinking about everything at once. She placed her hand over yours and you quickly pulled away. She came closer and took both of your hands in hers. "I'm sorry Y/N. I know you are mad at me about Na-ri, but I did it because she bullied you. Isn't that nice? Shouldn't you thank me?" She now caressed your hair, and worst of all you didn't mind it.

"I don't care what you do, just don't pull me into your shit." You sighed before standing up, getting ready to go home. You were getting too comfortable with her. You had to leave before she notices your red cheeks. "Y/N, your phone is dead and it's late. Why don't you spend the night and you can go in the morning?" She asked holding your wrist. You turned around looking down at her. Maybe here you can figure out why was she so obsessed with you. So you stayed. But it didn't really go like you planned...

Cause now you were in her bathtub waiting for her. Then she came in with a black bathrobe. She took it off staring at you and you covered your eyes. She chuckled before stepping in the bath. You stared at each other for a few seconds which felt like hours but then she came closer. "Y/N why are you flustered?" She asked you before placing her hand on your cheek. You could just shake your head as a no but she didn't take that as an answer. "Have you ever tried this?" She asked and you looked at her confused. "Tried w-what?" Your heart was beating so loud that you bet she hears it. "This..." She brushed her finger against your lips before leaning in, inches away from your lips. "And this..." She looked you in the eyes for the last time for any signs of discomfort. But there wasn't any. So she closed the distance inbetween. The kiss was slow and sweet, but Jaeyi turned it into a messy make out. She was kissing your neck and leaving marks after sucking the spot for too long. It felt too good, and you never wanted to stop. When her hands went down your chest and stomach tou grabbed her wrist. "Jaeyi...let's go to bed..." You mumbled against her ear. You wanted her just as much as she wanted you, but you couldn't let yourself have your first time, when you didn't even know her too well. She nodded not arguing but you could see on her face that she wanted to continue.

After getting dressed you two went to bed. You were staring at each other, your faces close. "I want to love you and not just watch you from afar..." She whispered before kissing your lips again. You were shocked by the sudden words but you kissed her back. The kiss didn't last long cause you were both tired. Eventually you both fell asleep but you couldn't stop thinking about what she said. Your plan did fail but maybe, just maybe this was way better. You in her arms knowing that she will protect you from anyone who doesn't like you.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A/N: Hey guys! This is my first ever post on here, so if anything is bad or I should fix something please let me know:) Also you guys can request me who do you want me to write for next from Friendly Rivalry or maybe other kdramas.

-

[aheathen-conceivably]

Three rhythmic knocks rang out across the desert. Jo let out a breath as she heard footsteps sound from inside the house. She had no reason to believe that Val would act any differently than she had every other time they'd met since things had grown awkward between them. Short, impersonal pleasantries. Quick, false smiles.

The door opened and Jo tried to maintain the indifference that she had worked so hard on these last few months. It’s fine. You’re friends. That’s all. “Keys are in the car. Just don’t do anything stupid. Get her back in one piece. Same as usual.” Terse. Already impatient. Seemingly the same annoyance that had been on her face the first time they had met.

“Wait, I -“ You’re friends. Don’t you miss that? Having someone more like you to talk to. Laughing with someone who doesn’t know every detail of your past and your ire. Where’s the harm in that? You’re in control. Just keep yourself in control. “Actually I was wondering if that drink was still on the table?”

Val leaned sideways, her eyebrows shooting up in an expression Jo could actually read. Amusement. “Oh, really?”

The finely woven threads holding up Jo’s principles loosened at that one simple question. Val’s eyebrow stayed raised, her posture infuriatingly relaxed, and Jo’s neck grew warm with the reminder that she could never simply smile and get her way with Val. Instead she had to grit her teeth and swallow her conviction that she should never be the one to implore someone else. “Yes, really. If you still want to, of course.”

In response Val simply stepped backward, a satisfied look on her face as she held open the door and gestured for Jo to step inside.

Val didn’t show off her living room the way that most people would have. She barely looked back as her long strides took her toward an open door across the room. Trailing behind her, Jo tried to take in every detail. She had seen much of it from the window, of course, but she realized now that had been like looking at it as the set of a play. Now, it seemed like a place where someone actually breathed. She couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that the walls didn’t need newspaper to keep out the red dirt, or that it smelled slightly of dried chilis rather than chickens and failed hope.

Lost in the simple comfort of it all, she didn’t even realize that she had lost track of Val, or the tightly wound control she had been so sure of moments before. Instead she was looking at the only other doors in the small house. They were shut tight, their contents hidden and their windows facing away from the porch. This is it, isn’t it? The room I tried not to think about when I would leave you in the bar all those nights ago. Did you close the door just for me, just so that I couldn’t see? Because we went too far and ruined whatever friendship we had…

“Are you coming, or what?” Jo turned back to see Val staring at her from the kitchen, her face set more with calm curiosity than the annoyance that had been there mere minutes ago. 

“I - what?” Heat rose up Jo’s spine as she tried to recenter herself in her heels rather than the imaginings she had already begun to conjure. You idiot. Don’t do this. Almost imperceptibly, she shook out the agitation gripping the back of her neck and regained control of her mind. “Yes. Of course I am. Lead the way.”

Jo took off her gloves and hat as Val rummaged through a cupboard. After a minute, she pulled out a dusty bottle and a cup, stepping nearer to Jo at the table as she poured liquor into a glass. “You’ll have to forgive me if it’s a bit old. Doesn’t get much use other than when there’s folk over, and we both know that’s not often.”

Jo looked up at her, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the strong smell of whiskey that had sat unopened for years. “Why don’t you drink, anyway? I mean all night at the bar, here all alone. That bottle wouldn’t have lasted a week in my house.”

Val shrugged her shoulders and pulled back the chair across from Jo. “Seems an awful way to deal with your problems if you ask me. Even worse than running away, just numbing yourself and turning the other cheek.” As she finished speaking, Jo’s hand hovered around the glass. Val noticed it and laughed. “That sounded mighty judgmental, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it that way. Only for myself, really, and maybe for all of those louses without a dime drinking away their children’s meals.”

Still, Jo’s whiskey stayed untouched as she looked into Val’s eyes, “Can I ask you something, honest?” With a nod of her head Jo continued, “Why are you still here? You know - in this town. I mean you’ve got a car, the road goes both ways right through the center, and I’ve been to your father’s courts; you could be anywhere in the country in a week.”

Val looked at the table between them and stayed quiet for a moment. Then she answered without looking up. “Honest, maybe I’m too loyal for my own good. I like it here, true. I like knowing everyone’s names and where they came from, but it hasn’t been easy, being on my own and unwilling to marry at that…”

For a moment she looked up at Jo knowingly, as though to test her on the subject or see if she’d judge her in some way. Then she glanced down at Jo’s left hand, holding the cup delicately and notably, without a ring. Jo brought the drink to her lips and she noticed that just before Val kept talking, she smiled. 

“Well, there’s some mixed feelings about the Groves. My father in particular. They found oil on our tract back when I was a girl. Most of the tribe fought him on it, but father got the government’s blessing to drill it. We were still under trust quota, of course, so the money wasn’t really his. He had to get permission to use the fraction of profits they gave him to buy anything else. Permission to use the profits off his own land. The same land sold to him by the government after they had stolen it in the first place.”

For a moment she stopped, a crack in her facade finally showing as they looked at each other and the room went silent. There was a charged beat of shared anger, some sense of knowing the past without needing to speak it that passed between them both. Then she signed heavily and resigned herself to the rest of the story.

“But once they did he took the cash and bought land lining the railroads first, and eventually, the route. If they wanted to play the game of land ownership, well I figure he thought he was going to win. So one by one he developed them, and once the money came out of there, it was his. I know why he did it now, why he drives up and down the route without any real sense of home; but some old timers still spit at the mention of his name. Call him a sell-out or a crow. Maybe I stayed here to make up for him. Or, I don't know, maybe it’s just as simple as there's nowhere else I wanna go.”

Jo put her glass back on the table lightly, unsure of what to say.

“I suppose that’s a bit more of an answer than you wanted, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s - I’ve just always wondered. Ever since I saw the car, really. Do you know how strange it was? Seeing you standing astride it like you owned the damn sand itself? It was formidable, I’ll tell you that.”

“Quite the compliment coming from you.” She had said it with only the smallest trace of sarcasm, so Jo tipped the glass in her direction, the crooked smile on her face still there even as she brought the glass to her lips. Val reached in front of her, rolling a cigarette that was to be far from her last. Then the sun got lower, their brows less concerned, and the lingering stiffness between them melted away.

It was dark by the time Jo moved to stand. Her legs were admittedly more wobbly than she would have liked them to be, and the memory of why she had been so stressed about coming here now harder to find. But as she found herself unwilling to move away from the table, a sort of charged silence fell over them. She kept her eyes off of Val’s as though she had something to hide, and without even really knowing why, offered up an embarrassed apology for her departure.

Val simply looked up at her from her chair, her posture slouched and the brief flash of disappointment that had been on her face now cloaked in wry amusement. Everything about her countenance told Jo that the expectation to stay was coming from within herself; and suddenly, she remembered exactly why she had to leave. So she straightened her skirt and made her leaden feet head toward the door. 

As she walked through the room, Jo’s steps slowed, seemingly having forgotten something that she couldn’t quite name. Val was watching her from the doorway, her shoulder against the wood and her voice low. “Keys are still in the car, as promised.”

Her hands were neatly folded across her body, and as she said it, she had nodded behind Jo as though directing her out. Instead Jo turned further; her mind was both sharp and cloudy with anticipation, just like it is when you hold your hand over a fire and wonder just how close you can get before you get burned. “Will you save the bottle for me? For next time?”

A smile slowly spread across Val’s face, laced with something more genuine than had been there hours before. “Sure, Jo. Next time.”

In response Josephine simply nodded and turned to leave, keeping control over the next question that she really wanted to ask. And next time, would you leave the door open for me too?

Previous / Next

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Shared Warmth

The party was in full swing—music pulsing through the speakers, laughter and conversation blending into the crisp night air. You liked these kinds of nights, low-key gatherings where everyone was relaxed, enjoying the vibe. But as much as you loved being outside, the chill in the air was starting to get to you.

Rubbing your hands up and down your arms, you leaned into Marshall’s side, your smaller frame barely brushing his. “Babe, I’m freezing,” you murmured, already eyeing the door to head inside.

Before you could move, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you backward with zero effort. “Where you think you’re goin’?” he asked, voice low and amused.

“Inside,” you answered matter-of-factly, glancing up at him. “It’s cold.”

Marshall smirked, shaking his head like that wasn’t even an option. “Nah, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you into his lap, settling you right against his chest. His body was already warm, heat radiating off him as he unzipped his jacket.

“C’mere,” he murmured, tugging you forward until you were practically tucked against him. Then, in one smooth motion, he wrapped his jacket around you both, zipping it up over your smaller frame, completely engulfing you in his warmth.

You blinked, your nose practically buried in his hoodie now. “…Did you just zip me into your jacket?”

“Yup.” He smirked, arms tightening around you like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon. “Problem?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, curling into him even more. “Not really. You’re warm.”

He huffed out a chuckle, resting his chin on top of your head. “Exactly. Now stop tryin’ to leave me.”

You smiled against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. The cold was long forgotten, replaced with the safe, familiar warmth of him.

“I wasn’t leaving you,” you murmured, letting your fingers curl into his hoodie.

Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice softer now. “Good. ‘Cause I like keepin’ you close.”

And just like that, the party faded into the background, because in his arms, wrapped up in his jacket and his warmth, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

---

Marshall kept you wrapped up tight in his jacket, his arms securing you against him like he had no intention of letting go. The night air was crisp, but inside the cocoon of his warmth, you were perfectly comfortable.

“You good now?” he murmured, lips brushing against the top of your head.

You hummed, nuzzling further into his chest. “Mhm. Way better.”

He smirked, leaning back slightly against the outdoor couch, completely content with you practically zipped into him. “Told you I got you.”

You smiled, running your fingers along the fabric of his hoodie underneath the jacket. “You know, this is kind of cute.”

He scoffed, resting his chin on top of your head. “I ain’t cute.”

“You literally just zipped me into your jacket like a human burrito,” you teased, looking up at him with a grin. “That’s kinda the definition of cute.”

Marshall rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Nah, I just don’t like my girl bein’ cold. Ain’t my fault you’re tiny as hell.”

You giggled, shifting slightly, but his arms tightened around you again, keeping you in place. “Where you goin’?”

“Nowhere,” you murmured, peeking up at him. “Just testing your grip.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “You ain’t gettin’ out.”

“Didn’t say I wanted to.”

His expression softened at that, the usual teasing smirk fading into something quieter, something warmer. He didn’t say anything, just pressed a slow kiss to your forehead before leaning back again, his grip on you never loosening.

The party kept going around you, but the two of you might as well have been in your own little world.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you mumbled, “Kinda wanna stay like this forever.”

Marshall’s arms tightened just slightly, like he felt the same way. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

And so, you stayed—wrapped up in him, in his warmth, in the quiet, unspoken way he always made sure you were safe, comfortable, and right where you belonged.

---

Marshall made no move to let you go. Not that you wanted him to, but it was still funny how he just carried on like it was the most natural thing in the world—sitting there, arms wrapped around you, his jacket zipped up over both of you like some kind of personal cocoon—while talking business with Paul and Mr. Porter like it was just another night.

“You hear what I’m sayin’, though?” Paul was saying, his usual exasperation creeping into his tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Marshall muttered, barely paying attention as he absentmindedly rubbed slow circles against your back. “I hear you.”

Paul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you? Because last time we talked about this, you—”

“Bro, chill,” Mr. Porter cut in, laughing. “He’s literally holdin’ his wife like a baby kangaroo right now. You think he’s listenin’ to you?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, especially with the way Marshall shot him a look.

“Man, shut up,” Marshall muttered, though his smirk gave him away. He adjusted his arms around you, shifting slightly so he could still half-focus on their conversation. “Y’all act like this is weird.”

“It kinda is,” Paul said dryly, gesturing at the two of you. “I mean, you look comfortable, sure, but how the hell are you supposed to take anything seriously like that?”

Marshall just shrugged, completely unbothered. “Multitaskin’.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. It was honestly kind of impressive—how he could keep up a conversation with them, still be his usual sarcastic, no-nonsense self, all while holding you like you weighed nothing. Like you just belonged there.

Mr. Porter shook his head, chuckling. “Man, you got it bad.”

Marshall rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, he just pulled you in a little closer, dropping a casual kiss to the top of your head like it was second nature. “And?”

“And,” Mr. Porter echoed, grinning. “It’s kinda sweet. In a weird, Eminem-but-mushier-than-he’ll-admit kinda way.”

Paul sighed again, rubbing his temples. “Whatever. Can we get back to the actual discussion now?”

Marshall chuckled, finally giving him his full attention—but not once did he let go of you. His arms stayed locked around you, his jacket still zipped up tight, like this was just the way things were meant to be.

And honestly? You weren’t complaining.

[zepskies]

I was so happy to read a sequel story for Long As I Can See The Light!!

Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more.  More of him and more time. It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 

God YES. This is the same idea I've explored in my sequel fics to ESC. It's the idea of wanting more time with a man who by necessity of his job, has to pop in and out of your life. As endearing as Russell is, that would be such a difficult obstacle to overcome in a new relationship.

Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more.  With Russell there was no such thing. When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.

Ugh I'm so glad she's got a man in her life that actually loves her and considers her the way she deserves. And if you ever write more of these two I would love to see this exploration of how Russell helps her feel beautiful and appreciated again. 💕

You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.

*snorts* yeah, like a mule, I'd imagine. 😆 But there's something so endearing about Russ wanting and insisting on fixing things around the house for her. Though of course I sympathize with her side of things. She just wants a nice healthy piece of her man. The showerhead can wait! 😏

Maybe I should try a different approach. “Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.”  Russell swallows. “Baby-” “And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 

Oh how I cackled! 😝 She's playing dirty and I love it lmao! Girl get him!

He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“�� “Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”

💀💀 Get himmmmm!

“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.

LMFAO. Okay, Russ took me out with that one. The audacity. 🤣🤣

Side note: but I love the word "salacious," especially because it fits so well with most Jackles characters. lol

Omg yay he's moving in!! That's a big step and I love that for them.

Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 

Girl Yessss - I love the body positivity in this storyverse so damn much. Thank you for continuing this giving me more Russell goodness, I really enjoy how you write him! 💜

It's Not A Wet T-Shirt Contest

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: “Is that supposed to be leaking?”

Requested by: @luci-in-trenchcoats

Summary:  When your boyfriend comes into town to surprise you one weekend, you thought that you’d spend it together, turns out he has other plans. Reader is a single mom and is the niece of Teddi and Velma. Reader is described as curvy. (Technically takes place in my Long As I Can See The Light Universe, but can be read as a stand-alone.)

Tropes: Established Relationship

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because I made it more spicy than I meant it to, References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Cursing, Kissing, Idiots who love each other lots. I think that's everything?

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Tracker Masterlist

A/N: Alright, y'all this is my first fic written for my prompt celebration requested by the wonderful @luci-in-trenchcoats 😊 ENJOY!

You took another long sip of coffee from your favorite hand-painted "World's Best Mom Mug" and tried to block out the symphony of the colorful curse words and banging coming from your upstairs master bathroom.

When your boyfriend showed up this morning out of the blue to surprise you, this was not what you expected to be doing. Well, his appearance was a surprise to you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that your Aunt Teddi and her wife Velma had gotten a heads up that Russell was coming. They'd shown up about an hour before Russell had to take your son and daughter for a movie and a sleepover at their house.

But the bigger surprise was your current dilemma.

You'd expected to be tangled up with Russell in bed for hours trying to convince him to never leave you again, not be waiting downstairs while he tried to install a new shower head in your master bathroom.

You only blamed yourself.

You'd let it slip that the water pressure wasn't quite right and something that you'd thought would take a plumber twenty minutes had turned into an all day affair for Russell. 

Instead of taking you to bed, Russell had dragged you out to his car and to the nearest hardware store where he let you pick out a new shower head and where he got supplies, all the while you told him that he didn't need to, and Russell only kissed away the frown on your lips leaving you wanting more.

You always wanted more.

Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more. 

More of him and more time.

It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 

It had been cold before and you didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to be reminded of the cold bed over the final years of your marriage when your husband’s favorite phrases echoed through your bedroom after you put your children to bed:

“I’m tired” and “Not tonight baby, I have to work.”

Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more. 

With Russell there was no such thing.

When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.

But each time he left, Russell always took a little bit of yourself with him. You didn't sleep well when he was gone doing God knows what, God knows where, only that when he finally called or showed up to tell you he was okay, you didn't let go of him for hours.

There's another loud bang followed by a string of curses that make you sigh into your mug.

For fucks sake, that stupid showerhead is getting more action than I am.

You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.

You straighten up from where you lounged against the countertop in your kitchen, taking one more sip of coffee, before you make the trek through your living room and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

This wasn't the first time that Russell fixed something in your home. He liked it when you made him a list of things to do when he visited, things like cleaning the gutters, nailing down the front step that always caught underfoot, mowing the lawn, etc. Things that Russell wanted to do for you because he knew how busy you got at work and with your children.

It made you love him more, because you’d never met someone so selfless before. 

When you enter the bathroom, Russell is standing in your shower, just inside the large glass double doors, soaking wet, and holding a wrench.

His usual easy smile has slipped into a frustrated frown while he stares at the bright silver shower head hanging on the wall. 

“I see things are going well.” You snort out a laugh, admiring the scene before you. 

Russell’s dark hair drips forward in lazy strands against his cheeks, his t-shirt clings to his chest like a second skin, catching in the dips and curves of your boyfriend’s muscular torso, and his usual blue jeans are stained a dark navy. The edge of his t-shirt pulls up from the top of his jeans with the stretch of his arms, giving you a view of the delicious stripe of skin just below his belly button.

For the love of french toast, the guy could win a wet t-shirt contest without batting one of those ridiculously perfect eyelashes of his.

At this point you were still trying to figure out how the hell you landed this man and why the hell he kept coming back for more of you.

“Smooth as silk.” Russell gives you a lazy smile that makes you feel like butter on a pile of buttermilk biscuits. “I just finished.”

 “Really?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Huh.” You take a step closer to admire his handiwork, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghost along the side of your face, making goosebumps trail over your skin. All it does is remind you of what the two of you could be doing instead of standing inside of your walk-in shower fully clothed and the things the two of you had done in this very shower the last time he was in town.  

"Is that supposed to be leaking?" You ask, pointing to the place where the plate of the shower head fastens to the wall and where there is a trickle of water dancing down the white subway tile backsplash.

"Oh shit." Russell sighs, his shoulders drooping when he notices the stream. “I can fix that."

You note his sheepish smile. “Rus, please let me call a plumber. You’ve been up here for two hours!” 

“No way! They overcharge you and it’s what I’m here for!” He argues.

Maybe I should try a different approach.

“Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.” 

Russell swallows. “Baby-”

“And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 

“I-” He tries again, but you feel his hands come down to the curve of your hips to ground himself there. 

“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” You murmur into his skin, pressing your chest against his as your hands work up to the back of his neck. The water from his clothes soaks into yours, but you’re not cold. 

“You’re fighting dirty.” He half groans, but you don’t feel bad. Judging by the way his hands have begun to squeeze your hips and pull you tighter against him, Russell was enjoying this as much as you were. 

“But it always works.” You purr against his throat with a smirk. 

“Fuck, baby I-“ 

“Yeah?” 

Your smirk grows the more you tease him. By now you could feel your own heartbeat thudding in your chest calling out to his and despite how cold Russell’s wet clothes are, heat was dancing along your skin. 

“I really want-“ There’s a grit along Russell’s voice, as if he’s trying to hold on to some shred of self-control.

You loved that you were able to do this to him, it made you feel powerful and sexy. Two things that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Hmm?” You moan softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while your lips continue their path along his skin.

He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“ 

“Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”

Russell pulls back from you, holding your wrists in his large hands. But he looks far from angry. His green eyes flash a darkened pine, and dance with mischief. “Baby, trust me. There is nothing more that I want to do than show you how much I missed you.” 

“Then why-" You begin to say.

“Because I know that the second I do that, we’re not going to do anything else the rest of the time I’m here. And I want to do this for you.” Russell’s eyes shift a little lighter. He releases your wrists and cups your cheek with his large hand. You can see the love you have for Russell reflected back at you in his gaze

You sigh again a little disappointed. Today really wasn’t going the way you wanted it to.  “But I missed you.” 

“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.

“Shut up!” You slap him on the shoulder, cheeks flaming. 

Russell only smirks wider at you. “You know… I’ve got a solution for that.”

“Oh do you?” You ask innocently. 

Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

Russell hesitates, his hand still stroking your cheek softly. "I could move in."

It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say.

“See I've been thinking about this for a bit." Russell  clears his throat. “I know you can’t move because of the kids but... I want to be here in your life. I hate leaving you and each time I get done with a job I always find myself driving back to you. I don't want to be anywhere else.”

Your mouth is still open in shock, eyes wide. You couldn’t find the ability to speak.

In the months that followed your divorce you’d been on a couple of dates before you met Russell, where the mere mention of your kids sent your dates scuttling into the shadows or back to whatever swamp they crawled out of, but here, standing in front of you was a man who didn’t just want you, he wanted you, and he wanted your children. 

It was a combination that you thought you’d never find, and then you’d met Russell. A man who not only loved you, he made you feel beautiful, alive, happy, and seen in a way that you hadn’t been in years. 

Not to mention that both of your children absolutely loved Russell, and he did a good job of scaring off your skeevy ex who refused to come around whenever Russell was in town because the last time Russell had broken his nose and threatened other bodily harm.

Russell’s soft smile drops a little the longer you remain silent. “But if you think that’s a bad idea or if you think it’s too fast-”

You pull him down to you for the searing kiss that you’d wanted all day long, feeling the drag of his beard against your soft skin, and the warm pillow of his lips moving in tandem with yours. 

His hands run along the curves of your body, trailing fire in their wake, the same curves that you’d hidden under long cardigans and oversized clothes, the ones that you cursed each time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. But not since you’d met Russell. 

Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 

“It’s not too fast! I hate when you leave. I hate waking up in my bed each morning and not having you there holding me. ” You breathe before you kiss him again, soaking in everything that is Russell as you do. The roughness of his hands pushing up the shirt hung low on your hips, the smell of mint and gunmetal, the taste of the coffee he had this morning, and gentle drag of his wet hair against your cheeks that dip between the two of your faces when you kiss. “I want you here with me all the time.”

“Then I’ll stay.” Russell smiles so wide you can feel the click of his teeth against yours when he pulls you back in for a kiss. 

“Wait.” You smirk, leaning your forehead against his, your hands gently cupping his bearded cheeks. "If I say yes, I have one condition."

"Anything."

"Please let me call a plumber."

Russell rolls his eyes at you, but squeezes you tighter against him, green eyes flashing with mischief. “Not a chance baby.”

A/N: It was so fun to write this prompt and also to come back to these two! Thank you so much @luci-in-trenchcoats for requesting this one 🥰 If anyone else would like to ask me a prompt for my prompt celebration, here is the post:

Prompt Celebration

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always appreciated 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Trop bon, trop con.

Warning : drugs, nudity, masturbation mention, suicidal ideation

Genre : angst

Synopsis : “could I request a thanos x male reader where it's before the games, & they've been childhood friends, mixed complicated feelings & the reader let's Thanos stay in his apartment?? it results in the reader finding out abt Thanos using the crypto app & kicking him out, & it kinda just ends with the reader assuming Thanos already got over him because he hasn't heard from him😭 (when it's really just Thanos in squid game)” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // trop bon, trop con = too nice, too stupid. // you’re both not out sexually to each other

You’ve known each other since your first school years, always together, one could almost never be seen without the other. Always going to his house or yours, constantly being invited during the holidays and birthdays, he even followed you when you and your family went away during the holidays.

Even after he stopped studying to focus on his rap, you continued seeing one another. You were always gravitating toward Subong and him toward you.

Somehow along the way, feelings bloomed as neither of you spoke about them, being each other’s first man crush, preferring to focus on your personal goals than to try anything.

You briefly lived together in a flat, rent paid by your parents as you both tried to find a job to get some money, and when he made enough, he left to get his own apartment.

You did the same, finding your own place, even though it was small.

Years passed and you both kept changing jobs, you were trying to find something that you’d like while he kept getting fired for almost always the same reasons.

Bad customer service, talking back to everyone, arriving late and leaving too early.

“Why did you flip your boss off ?” You asked, taking a sip from your drink.

“I didn’t know there were cameras !”

“Of course there are ! It’s a convenience store ! They all have cameras by the cashier !” You sighed. “What are you gonna do once you’ve worked at every place in the city ?”

“Hey, I didn’t get fired that much. The way you talk makes it sound like the whole country fired me.”

“You have been fired by the whole country.” You snickered, patting his hand as he slapped yours away, grabbing his drink. “Why did you do it ?” You asked again and he side eyed you.

“He asked me to be nicer to the customers. I literally was ! No one is nicer than me !”

“Nicest man on earth flips people off. Yeah.”

“Shut up. There was this lady, I said ‘Hello’ she didn’t reply. I thought maybe she was deaf so I repeated myself louder. Still no answer so I said it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. And when I said it once more she said she heard me the first time.”

You laughed as he glared at you, crossing his arms.

“You’re laughing ? I was literally being super nice and polite !”

“Why couldn’t you just drop it and move on ? Why did you want her to answer so bad ? Aaah, she was cute, right ?” You pointed at him, shaking your head exasperated.

“What do you take me for, huh !? Some old ass lady, tsk. I’m always fired because of them !”

“Yeah, definitely not because you flipped off your boss.”

“Ah, stop it with that ! You would’ve done it too !”

“No. I’m an exemplary worker.” You replied, posing.

“Such a humble bastard.” He scoffed as you laughed again.

“Such polite words from the nicest man on earth.” You said, making his chuckle. “I bet you didn’t just flip him off lazily, you put all your strength in it, face scrunched up, fist shaking and all.”

“How do you know ?”

“I’ve seen the tapes, man. No, I fucking know you duh. You think we’ve known each other for only a few months or what ?” You sighed, leaning against the back of your chair.

He seemed to think for a moment, drinking before gasping. You raised an eyebrow, wanting to know what he just realized.

“I don’t know what my life is without you.”

“It would’ve been sad and dark without me.” You smiled, nodding solemnly. He raised his glass quickly, threatening to empty his drink on you if you continued as you laughed.

“Since kindergarten ?” He finally said after a little while.

“Yeah I think.”

“Woah, I’ve been supporting your ass all this time ?”

You snorted, making a slurping sound with your straw as you took a sip.

“Stop it, you love me. None of the girlfriends you had know you the way I do. Who has been a constant in your whole life ? Meee ~”

He scoffed.

“No way I’m dating you. Pain in the ass.”

You chuckled.

“I never suggested we date. I’m too good for you anyway.” You sighed, nodding once more.

“Shut up, you’re the worst between us two. You kept fumbling your girlfriends, almost making me believe you have feelings for someone else.”

“You can talk.” You scoffed.

“What does that mean ?”

You only shrugged, ending the conversation there.

He doesn’t care much about the jobs he does, knowing his rap career would take off someday and get him rich. Then he could have the place he wanted and not have to care about some shitty ass job anymore.

He already had a small fanbase, all he needed was a little push to get more famous.

Then it happened. As they looked for participants to a rap battle on TV, Thanos went to the audition and finally got accepted after many tries over the years. He immediately quit his job after only a few days of working there. Well, quitting is a big word, he simply stopped showing up without giving any news.

Everything was going so well, Thanos had managed to make it till the last round. And then, he forgot his bars, not remembering what he was supposed to rap next.

He looked around himself, eyes wide and mouth agape as he quickly understood he was fucked. And he was right, he lost like that, the money and contract to officially debut with a label passed through his hands to stay with his rival.

You stared, grimacing as he looked completely lost, sitting back in your seat defeated as everyone around you cheered for the winner. You felt so bad for him.

He tried to challenge the judges’ decision but it was too late, they and the public had made their choice. His mic got quickly cut off to let the winner talk and express his joy.

He had lost.

“Is it because of the stuff you take ?” You asked driving him to a bar to drink.

“Don’t start with it.”

“I’m not ! I just read it can fuck up someone’s memory ? Amongst other things.”

He didn’t reply, instead popping a pill into his mouth as you rolled your eyes. He was too pissed off to talk.

After a few days he crashed at your place, depressed, claiming he had no money to pay his rent, but your flat was too small for two people to live in. Only one bed, no couch, barely 15m² to share together, the small kitchen with no oven a few feet away from the bed, and the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen, the sink and toilet next to the shower, barely leaving any room to move comfortably. And with Thanos with you it was worse.

Your bed was made for one, not two people, and with you two constantly tossing and turning at night, it was a nightmare, kicking and hitting one another, snoring into each other’s ears, drooling on each other’s clothes.

You’d sometimes wake up cuddling together though, bedsheets on the floor, but neither of you ever mentioned it, quickly pulling from one another as you had to leave for work.

You had seen each other naked more times than you could count and had to learn to take a shit while he was showering, and vice versa.

There also wasn’t enough hot water for two people.

“We could shower together.” He said once as you ate on the small table by the bed. You nearly choked on your food.

“Why would we do that ?” You asked after recovering, heart still beating fast.

“I’m tired of taking cold showers. It’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Dude, I’m the one who takes cold showers the most because you take so long before I can go in.”

“Still.”

“Plus, there’s barely any room for one person so two people in the shower ? Let’s just fuck already it’s the same.” You sighed.

It was his turn to choke on his food.

“Why the fuck would it be the same ?!”

“Because we’ll be so glued together it’ll be the same fucking thing ! Are you stupid ?”

He sighed. Sometimes you were driving him mad.

“And I don’t wanna see you shower from up close, I already see enough when brushing my teeth or pissing.”

“I’m just trying to find solutions.”

“Well, they’re shit. Keep looking pretty and eat instead of trying to ‘find solutions’”

He rolled his eyes, glaring at you, taking another bite of his food.

You still tried it.

Serious mistake.

Naked, you both stared at each other awkwardly before turning the water on. The silence was so loud if not for the sound of the water hitting your bodies, the shower felt even smaller and cramped than usual.

“This is literally the worst.” You said, clenching your teeth, praying to not get hard. You were not doing so well.

Thanos said nothing, focusing as much as he could on thinking about stuff he hated to not get hard as well.

You decided to both turn around, ass to ass, but it still felt too much.

“No, I can’t-” You tried to walk out of the shower but Thanos was faster, almost running away, nearly slipping on his way out, catching himself by the corner of the wall.

Then he came back, slowly, one hand hiding his dick as he grabbed his towel before leaving again.

You both took care of your hard on, slightly confused as you wondered why you still tried this bad idea, images of the other naked flashing in your head.

When you were done showering, you let him get in without a word as you walked out, tower wrapped around your waist.

It was awkward for a few days as you both refused to talk about what happened. But at some point Thanos had enough of it.

“Stop staring at me like I forced you to try it !”

“I’m not ! I agreed to try because I was curious.”

“Then why are you making it weird !”

“You are ! Not me !”

Silence.

“I didn’t get hard.” He suddenly said and you stared at him.

“…Me neither ?”

“Good.” He nodded. Still looking away.

Silence again.

“But uh, I saw your dick though, you looked pretty… hard.” You chuckled, half nervous, half amused.

“I was thinking about sexy girls !”

You laughed.

“Okay.” You replied. “Sure.”

“And I saw yours too when I went back for my towel.”

You hummed, not knowing what to say.

“Sexy girls too ?” He asked.

“Y- yeah, definitely, yeah.” You nodded and he hummed in response.

That’s the only time you spoke about it.

This was the push you needed to look for a new flat.

And so, you quickly left for a bigger one.

But a bigger one meant a bigger rent to pay, which meant you had to work two jobs to pay for it. But at least you had two bedrooms, an oven, a distinct living room with a couch and a TV, a bigger kitchen and a bathroom almost the size of your old flat. You still had to share it, yelling at him each time he didn’t clean up after himself, but at least you had enough hot water for the both of you and no more reason to shower together.

You were busting your ass with two jobs you hated to pay the rent and groceries while Thanos stayed at your shared place. He was still taking his pills each time he went clubbing, which was almost every night.

You wondered how he got the money for it, but didn’t think further, believing he still had some money but not enough to pay for big things.

Or so you thought.

One day as you got back home from work, you found Thanos’ phone on the table, unlocked. You grabbed it to give it back to him, briefly eyeing what was on the screen as it buzzed in your hand.

You saw an app you yourself had on your phone. You used it to invest in crypto money, you had paid around 910 000 won to collect some coins, waiting for the right time to sell them back, hoping one day you’ll make enough to help you pay the rent, if not pay you some vacations.

“Here’s your phone.” You said, handing it to him. “I saw an app on your phone. You invest in crypto too ?” You asked, plopping on the couch next to him.

He quickly thanked you before nodding, focusing back on the TV.

“With what money ?” You suddenly asked out loud. You were curious.

“The one I won by rapping. I made some money with the second place.” He simply said.

“Huh ?” You looked at him confused, he managed to make money ?

“But I lost it all.”

“Oh.” You continued looking at him.

“It’s because of that bastard MG Coin and his fucking Dalmatian token.” He groaned, unlocking his phone, clicking on the app and showing you the coin.

“How much did you…” You began asking as you suddenly saw the amount he had put on it. “500 million won ?!” Your eyes grew in size. Did you read correctly ? You grabbed his phone to have a better look. Was it really what he had invested ?

“Yeah. That’s why I was so pissed of the other d-”

“Are you fucking serious ?!”

It was his turn to look at you, slightly confused and startled by your tone.

“You had 500 million won and never thought you could help me pay rent or buy groceries or pay for Netflix or Disney + or fucking Spotify or whatever else we pay monthly ?!”

He looked at you then in front of himself, not knowing what to reply.

“What the fuck, Subong. I literally work two jobs to makes ends meet every month, I always pay you stuff thinking you have no money and your out there with 500 fucking million won !?”

You stared at him, feeling your anger grow and grow as he stared at you, sheepish.

“I work in the restaurant business, do you know how shitty the people are ? Customers and colleagues ? They’re so comfortable they don’t even bother hiding their bigotry. The other day two colleagues lusted after two teenagers, barely 14. And even then I’m being nice, because 14 surely wasn't their age. My colleagues are in their thirties. And I can’t even say anything or I get fired and if I get fired I can’t pay the rent. Rent that you can pay since the very fucking beginning. Are you fucking kidding me ?!”

“[Name]-” He turned to you, placing a hand on your knee.

“No, fuck off !” You stood up. “What the fuck do you take me for ? A fucking pigeon ?! How long did you plan to use me like that ?!”

“That’s not-”

“Out.” You cut him off, pointing at the door.

“What ?”

“Take your shit and get the fuck out.”

“But I don’t-”

“Have any money ? Yeah, tell that to other pigeons. Maybe they’ll be dumb enough to believe you.”

“Come on, I’m serious, I just thought-”

“I’m serious too ! Get the fuck. Out. Of my. House !” You yelled, grabbing him, forcing him up and pushing him to his room. “Put your shit in a bag and leave.”

“[Name], please, I didn’t mean to. I promise I’ll find a job and help you.”

“Too late, don’t care, get out.” You replied dryly, entering his room, grabbing a backpack, opening his wardrobe and shoving his clothes inside.

“Stop it !” He rushed to you to try and stop you but you pushed him away.

“I’ve busted my ass for months ! Do you know how many times I thought about dying because of how much I hate my jobs ? But then shaking myself up because I thought I couldn’t leave you alone, believing you needed help ?!”

“I’m sorry-” He said, words you rarely ever hear from him.

“Shut up. I hate you.” You quickly replied, throwing the backpack at him. “You better help me pack your shit or I’ll throw it through the window.”

Thanos continued trying to get you to pardon him as you put his stuff into bags, but you refused to listen, hands on his back as you pushed him out of your shared apartment.

You locked the door behind him.

It was his turn to get angry, kicking the door, yelling at you to open it.

He gave it one last kick before leaving, cursing you out.

You were devastated, not believing he could’ve paid for things since the beginning. Why did he lie and said he had no money to pay his rent ? Why did he never help you pay for stuff ?

The first few nights he slept in his car, messaging you to let him back in. You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t really want to kick him out, but you were so mad and upset, feeling betrayed. You worked two jobs and he was at home, swallowing his pills and clubbing, enjoying his peace doing whatever he wanted while you felt stuck and trapped by your jobs, not knowing when you’ll be able to relax as well.

You wanted to accept him back to your shared apartment but each time you received a message or call from him your anger returned, ignoring him.

Thanos knew he had fucked up big time and he didn’t know how to make you forgive him since you refused to let him talk to you.

Walking on a bridge, he thought about ending it all. Feeling abandoned by the world.

Then his messages stopped. No longer bugging you to let him in, to forgive him, trying to beg his way into your no longer shared apartment.

You thought he had finally understood to give you time, but days passed, then weeks. You tried to call him but you went straight to voicemail. You sent him messages, all unread. Did his phone die ? Did he not find a hotel room in the city to stay at ?

You called his parents, but just like you, they hadn’t heard from him in a while. So you went to the police to report a missing person.

Then months passed and still nothing from him. You were beyond worried. He was missing and it was your fault. If you hadn’t kicked him out, he would’ve been here with you.

Although you still struggled with paying the rent, you refused to leave the apartment in case Thanos would come back. You didn’t want him to find someone else where you both lived. Daily, you checked his platforms in case he might post, like or repost something, but nothing. Even his fans were beginning to worry about his lack of activity.

You were beginning to panic. What if he died ?

Where ? Why is his body still not found ?

A year had passed and still nothing, time continued passing as you kept thinking about him. The police eventually told you they were soon stopping the research. He was most likely dead.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have kicked him out. It was impulsif and not thought through. You should’ve told him to come back. You should’ve forgiven him. You should’ve gone after him sooner.

You forever regretted your actions.

[raayllum]

Is there like‚ some kind of symbolism of Claudia fixing Callum's hair VS Rayla lovely touching it?

There's probably a whole mini meta just waiting in TDP about hair (how Soren parts his hair switching post-timeskip to reflect how he's literally switched sides; Claudia's moon symbolism hair, which I do have a meta for in my drafts rn) so to put it simply: yes, I think so!

Claudia cares a lot about appearances. This ties into how much she hates feeling judged ("you're doing it again prince judy-face!" / "here to judge me, captain true heart?"). She values things looking put together, largely because she puts more emphasis on things being Physically okay rather than considering someone's emotional state (i.e. overruling Viren and Soren in S2 and S4 respectively). We see this overtly in "Lost Child":

“You’re still here. Even though I’m…” She gestured at herself, to something beyond the soil-soaked boots and tearstained face: a total mess. [...] A moment later, she blinked into the pond; her reflection beamed up at her. Her eyes brighter, her face fuller, more color in her cheeks. Small changes, but still—There I am, she thought.

We also see this in show canon. She checks with the little leaf-cub creature in 6x04 that her new haircut suits her. She also reflects that maybe seeing the creature as parts is bad, implicitly, because the creature is so cute/adorable. (This is in stark contrast to Ezran who reflects a season earlier in 5x06 that sea slugs may look gross, but they have a rich inner life and he's regularly made friends with them. Post with that comparison here)

Another consistent facet of Claudia is that her compliments are sometimes not entirely compliments. This happens just once with Terry ("Claudia says that makes me weird, and wonderful, so...") as she more readily compliments him ("you saved the day!" / "goofy and glorious just like you!"), but it happens basically any of the few times she compliments/offers praise etc. to Callum in any manner.

It was completely ridiculous. Adorable. Did you just say adorable? Did I? (1x02)

That was very confident Callum. Oh, thanks. Even if your hair's a little messy. (2x02)

You didn't open it? Why would I do that? [The letter] is for you. Though I could've easily opened it and then resealed it with magic. Did you? Did I? We may never know. But no. No.

Yeah, you always were a very clever human, weren't you, Callum? (4x08)

Impressive, Callum. Somehow you learned primal magic. But dark magic will always have the edge. (7x07)

(AKA she giveth and she taketh away.)

So Claudia fixes Callum's hair. She compliments him, but also makes him more nervous. She adjusts his appearance to something she thinks is 'better' (cleaner). Absolutely none of it is malicious, but it does reaffirm that when crushing on her Callum never felt entirely comfortable around her despite being longtime friends, whereas even though Rayla can be much gruffer, Callum feels a lot more comfortable around her (even once he develops feelings) in general.

So there's the obvious level of comfort (Rayla) vs non-comfort (Claudia), as well as a longstanding childhood crush vs what has blossomed into more mature, enduring love of 3+ years as of the end of 7x09.

Claudia sees that his hair is messy and points it out; Rayla sees that his hair is messy and quietly fixes it herself, doing so simply and leaving Callum looking more relaxed than before, rather than less like in 2x02.

Rayla, as we know, doesn't really care about appearances. She routinely doesn't care about titles, she goes with what her gut tells her, and anytime she expresses distress over her appearance ("I'm a mess") it's scaffolded under "I'm showing weakness" rather "I look bad". There's a similar fear of judgement lurking underneath as Claudia's, but I don't think Rayla sees herself as a Good Person the same Claudia does, and therefore doesn't have the need to keep seeing herself that way in the same manner.

Either way, Callum is always Callum to her ("You're so gross" with a fond smile on her face; his scarf is smelly and he knows it and just smirks at her over it; "you're a good person, Callum, maybe the goodest," etc), and always her Callum — her heart, her home, her best friend and partner — and that's what the 7x09 scene is ultimately about, I think.

Do me the honour of letting me talk a bit about hair-touching and white streaks, though, for a second, when it comes to Claudia, Terry, Callum, and Rayla.

Because despite Claudia and Terry being very touchy-feely for 3.5/4 seasons, Terry never once touches Claudia's hair in quite the same manner or framing that we see in 7x09. He touches her hair, sure — he braids it for her and then later cuts it — but this is the closest we get to an adjustment, which is when he's bathing her and cleaning her up in 6x03.

Now, pushing the white hair and all its associations to get to Claudia, flesh and blood and very much still alive, underneath would be ripe enough as a symbolic examination, honestly. The reason why this feels so different to me than 7x09, I think then, is that there are two scenes 7x09 mirrors when it comes to someone touching Claudia's hair in the "facing the camera, strands on the face/cheek" directly shot.

And it's herself.

SOREN: You saw what Dad turned Kasef into. What Dad turned into. Claudia, you're changing too. (3x07)

CLAUDIA: But... I'm still nice. I'm still me. (7x09)

In both instances, she's not willing to admit that Soren is right / that she's changed (or, arguably, that she needs to change just in the opposite direction). She touches it first as a sign of shame in the face of her brother's words, the first white streak in her dark hair. Then she touches one of the few dark streaks that remain, reassuring herself (because nobody else will or can at this point) that she's still the person she thinks of herself as, someone who's still nice ('good').

Callum, meanwhile, never touches his white streak. He wakes Rayla up in the middle of the night (which she takes much better than I would, I can say that much) and offers his scarf, asking if she trusts him. But Rayla notices his hair is a little askew, so she tidies it for him. And the whole time, his expression is completely open, smiling and trusting her in turn... even when she hasn't actually answered his question yet, and his expression softens even before she has too.

She doesn't tuck or hide it away. It's a part of him, and therefore a part she loves ("Everything"). And he knows it.

[theinheriteddutchess]

Flattery will get you anywhere😂

I started of intending to have Lee be darker, but really along the way, they flowed so nice together that I realized that even if he's a selfish man, he intends to be a good husband and I believe he softened when they started interacting.

Oh my god yes! I really picture her living in her own world dancing around the reality😭 I love what you said here! And he watches her so much now, building up over the years, no one else seems to notice this, they just judge. But he sees that vulnerability and the qualities she does have.

I think I wanted to make him even older but he's probably about 9 years older? He wasn't seeing her like a possible match right away because she was a teenager. He just felt some sympathy for her and noticed that she was actually well behaved and sweet. And then after a few years started to see her differently. He was early twenties when he helped her. Not as bitter and shady as he is when our story starts. He's just the kind sheriff that treats her nicer than the others. Also he's not pretending to be nicer, she brings that out in him. He just thinks people are too mean to her.

Now after, now she's in her 20's he's acting very nice...👀 Now he wants to pursue her😂 before their interactions were short and spontaneous. Now he's searching her out.

I definitely tried to make it seem that while she's desperately trying to go along with people, they are rejecting her for how she is. She can't help it, but they are sure to let her know she simply doesn't fit in.

And I love reactions like this because as someone often feeling like I was also not really fitting in, that I was different, it's so nice to hear that people read this and get it! 💕

She reads mostly romance, she's still very sheltered, so the smut is really vague and non-descriptive 🤭

But Lee in that library🥴 he probably never set foot in it before 😂 he's really trying to get in her spaces.

Okay so to answer your question, he's helped her when she was about 16 and then kept an eye out for her because he knows she's struggling and people are being mean. They ran into each other off course because it's a close community, but it's all fleeting and shallow meetings? So she did grow up with him but he was not constantly involved and he definitely didn't see her this way until a few years after. It started with him thinking she's just a good girl and then that she would make a good partner and then it changed in that she would make a good partner for him. And as soon as that thought sneaked in, that's when he really started looking at her differently. And he then was basically waiting for the right time to pursue her.

The chairs... Wel i noticed I can get really upset about changes that make no sense sometimes so I just changed certain examples but I can relate to that feeling. That chair was something she was used to, safe and now what was taken from her and she couldn't even really express her feelings because she knows they're "not normal" so whenever she struggles and tries to hide, well it doesn't really work. And those women are so brutal. I love everyone had the same reaction to these mean girls. It's so so relatable.

I just want to say that she feels bad for her parents but get parents do nothing but love and accept her, don't worry. But Lee is the first person to truly be nice and compliment her outside her parents😭😭

I really loved how he was trying to hint at her being the one to cure his loneliness and it flew right over her head. She's so sweet, but Lee needs to be very clear with her. I love those awkward moments where he's left unsuccessful lol.

Anyway you got me ranting as well! Because I love this story so much. And I really loved your enthusiasm, so thank you so much for reading and reblogging and the excitement because it means so much!💕

Dream Of A Girl

Part 1

Summary: The sheriff had his eyes on you for a while, the town's joke of an Omega. You never thought you'd find love, but around him you just can't help acting on your inner instincts.

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x reader

Word count: 3899

Warnings: Lee, small town gossip and bullying, neurodivergent reader, slurs\insult of neurodivergent back in the day, no cats🥺, turns slightly non-con at the end, Alpha\Omega

Notes: absolutely loved writing this, got really into it, I hope you'll enjoy it, and make sure to drop me a comment, I would love to hear what you think!💕

Series masterlist

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

He was watching you again. Inside his car, on his lunch break, slurping from his milkshake as his eyes never left your form. Your head was turned down, watching the pavement as you moved, yet you seemed to be aware where everyone else was because you never bumped into anyone. He noticed that about you. How your body moved almost fluently away from others. You didn't like to be touched. You flinched if someone did.

You were alone a lot. Listening to the noises around you, or he would sometimes hear you murmur to yourself. Sometimes you made strange noises if you were excited. He knew what they said about you.

They thought you were weird.

He didn't mind. Everyone talked about him too. Granted, he was a bit shady sometimes, with his secret businesses here and there, but it was something he had in common with you. Both of you fell outside of what was appropriate.

Of course, he was the sheriff, so no one dared to say it to his face. But they did to you. He had watched you for years. With your pretty hair, and that body…

He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. You always had an effect on him.

He loved your eyes, although you barely look up to him. You do that. You glanced past people, or talked with your face turned a different way. Some people looked at you funny when you did.

But he knows why. Your parents told him once. When you got dared into doing something naughty. You didn't like it, but told him you had said you would do it before they told you what you were supposed to do. And you needed to keep your promises.

He talked to you sternly about how wrong it was of you, and you sat there with tears in your eyes. Head down. Like you had committed the worst crime. You were a good girl. Your parents told him that. It wasn't your fault. It was those kids. They thought it was funny. School talked to them. They left you alone. But you didn't make many friends.

Too different, too quiet, or too loud. You didn't say the right things, you didn't like the right things. You were too honest.

He liked that about you. He didn't need to wonder what you thought. You weren't two faced like all the other bitches. Who smiled at him in hope for favors, or in hope he would turn his eyes away from what they were doing. You were, you.

When you were alone, or thought you were anyway, your shoulders relaxed and he could sometimes see you smiling. Most times you would if you spotted an animal. Talking to it, like it was your friend. And you were good with kids. Really good. They flocked to you and you easily handled them. You didn't like sudden noises, and you were very clear about that, and they listened to you.

That's something people did like about you, they had no problem ditching their kids on you. You were a natural.

It was one of the things he noticed first about you. That drew him towards you. Your natural motherly instincts. He knew you would do excellent with your own. And the idea of you, one or 2 kids by the hand, belly swollen with another, made him rock hard each time.

God, you would be so pretty. He imagined your children; babies with brown hair, maybe a cleft in their chin, like his. The family Bodecker. You, all soft and sweet smelling. A ring on your finger. It made him come so swiftly once he touched himself.

He was happy no one snatched you up. They all couldn't look past your different behavior and see the gem underneath. They were blind to your qualities. What fools. But it worked in his favor though. Such a good, sweet girl. All ripe for the picking.

You were growing and seemed to not be aware of him. That was okay, he was fine with letting you have this time for yourself. Just out of college, young women needed to find their own way. He didn't want you to feel like you missed out on everything once he married you. That led some housewives to turn a little crazy, he saw it all the time, married at 18 or even 16 at times, high school lovers, and by the time baby number 2 was on the way, they looked worn out and disappointed in life.

Not you though. You finished school, you had a nice job, good parents. He gave you that time. He never was far away though. Watching you. Making sure you stayed out of trouble. Or trouble didn't find you. There weren't many boys to approach you, but those with eyes did, those who were too eager to be bothered with your quirkiness. He made sure to scare them off. He didn't need the competition.

He had a good job, a job that gave him power over this town, a nice house. He could afford a family. When the time came, he could convince your parents he was a good match. But most important was he needed to convince you.

📖

You walked into the library to return your books and pick up new ones. You came here at least once a week, often twice, as you loved reading. It was the time that you could disappear in a story and live a life you were never going to get. Experiencing all the emotions and adventures safely from your own home. Romance, and travels, fighting dragons or being a ruling Queen. In real life you liked things simple, but in your head you were free to do whatever you wanted. In your head people liked you. You belonged.

Lately you got very into fairytales again. Consuming every book you could find, rereading classics, daydreaming about the magic that was both wonderful and scary. The Alpha King, and Omega and the false mate, Sleeping Beta…they were all lovely stories and you couldn't get enough. You walked through the rows upon rows of books, feeling calm and like you were amongst friends. Here you were safe. Here you were liked.

Your hands occasionally picked up a book and read the cover, lost in thought. You didn't even notice the presence next to you, until a voice shook you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me.”

You froze and looked up. Sheriff Bodecker looked down at you.

“Oh”, you said, stepping away.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I didn't mean for you to leave. I just wanted to grab this book.”

You watched him as he picked up a faded green book. He flipped through the pages. You hadn't expected him to read. You scolded yourself after the thought. You didn't know him. It's just that…he didn't seem the type. You heard stories about him. They said he liked the booze and he loved the ladies who gave it away for free. He had always been pleasant if you ever saw him, devoted to his work, but gossip still followed him.

Gossip was tricky, though. For years rumors went around that you were stupid. That you were rude. That you were mentally challenged. They didn't understand you. And you honestly often didn't understand them. Luckily your parents loved you and stood up for you. They might not always understand but they didn't punish you the way other parents would have. They didn't make you feel bad for not always looking them in the face. Or for being blunt and too honest. How your head was in the clouds at times. Or how people overwhelmed you sometimes. But other people, they didn't get it. And they didn't like what they didn't get.

You watched everyone around you making friends and falling in love. Easily getting through events you struggled with. They got married, and started a family. It was difficult at times, to realize you wouldn't have that, but eventually you accepted it. You were comfortable with your life. You had your family, and one or two acquaintances, and you were okay. It was nice being alone. Quiet. When you were alone, no one expected something of you.

You watched out of the corner of your eye how he assessed the book, before he looked at you again. “Do you know if it's any good?”

You glanced at the title like you had to think about it. “It's a little boring. But I don't know what you're looking for.”

“Just a little something to entertain me in the evenings. I was never much of a reader, but I thought why not read a book once in a while instead of always putting the telly on, ya know?”

You nodded. “What genre are you interested in? Action? Or mystery.”

“Romance.”

You blinked. “Romance,” you quietly repeated. You're eyes gliding past the titles of books and thinking to yourself.

“I don't mind it being a little…naughty, might motivate me even more to be honest,” he chuckled.

Your cheeks heated, but you tried not to show any signs of your discomfort. A heated romance. Of course you could list a few, but it felt awkward sharing that with him. You hummed softly under your breath, more out of nerves than anything, but you grabbed a book eventually. “A little naughty, and definitely romance,” you told him.

He hummed and turned the book in his hands. “Thank you, I didn't know where to start.”

“The librarians are happy to help if you can't find anything.”

“Yes, I'm sure they are, but you seem like you know more about this stuff.”

Maybe you did. Maybe it was easier to approach a visitor than the strict ladies running this place? You continued your search, but he did not leave.

“Don't you have enough books?”

You frowned. How could anyone have enough books? And why was he criticizing you? “I like reading.”

He laughed. “ No, I can see that, but do you really read all these in a week?”

“No. Sometimes I read them in a few days.”

“Oh, really. Okay. That's impressive. I really need to catch up if I were to compete with you.”

“It's not a competition. You can read how you want.”

“Oh I know, I was just joking.”

It wasn't a very good joke in that case. “Oh.” You thought, then replied. “Do you need anything more?”

There was silence, then he answered awkwardly. “No, you helped enough.”

You nodded.

He said your name quietly and when he didn't continue, you looked to the side at him. Your eyes locked and you blinked before you looked away.

“Tell your parents hello from me, will you?”

You nodded. You would, if you remembered.

He walked away and you were left feeling a little weird about the whole conversation. Sheriff Bodecker, reading a romantic book. It seemed a little silly. But maybe he was a little lonely. He was unmarried and didn't seem to be in a hurry to get settled.

He asked for something a little naughty, though. If he wanted anything naughty he should've gone to a different section of the library. They had a few of those, although most people didn't dare to pick them up and give the ladies anything to gossip about. Sheriff Bodecker, with a naughty book. You smiled to yourself. It would be the talk of town.

🤎

You wrapped your scarf around your neck, it was a little chilly today. Maybe you were just tired. It had been a long day at work today, your hands were cramped from all the typing, and your colleagues had left you feeling a little upset. Normally you tried to not listen to their chatter and ignore if they were ever negative about you. But today…they had stood a little nearer and you had more trouble filtering their voices.

They had talked about Marcie, who had found herself a beau. If only it had stayed about Marcie, it would have been fine. But they had looked over at you and pretended to lower their voices.

“Spinster”, they had used. They giggled slightly during it. You pretended not to see them staring at you. Or how they didn't care if you heard it.

“She’s never going to find anyone, I mean did you hear her talk about the different office chairs to mr. Johnson? One would think she had to sit on spikes.

You bit your lip. You did not want to cry in front of them. They had changed the chairs two days ago, the old ones too worn out to be pleasant. But you had liked them. You were used to them. And it felt like an old friend had been ripped away from you. So you had talked to your boss if he could make an exception, if you could keep yours, and store the new one. But of course he hadn’t wanted to. And you admittedly got a little upset. Word got out, or maybe they heard you. You had cried on the toilet, but tried very hard to gather yourself and continue like nothing was wrong. It didn’t matter. They knew. And they thought you were crazy.

And now they kept bringing other things up in their conversations. Like they enjoyed your discomfort.

You did your job well, however, so you were pretty sure if you laid low for a while, mr. Johnson wouldn’t fire you. You always made sure to finish all your work, even if you had to stay longer. Got the job done.

But now, at the end of the work day, you felt exhausted. It was tiresome keeping up pretense. The constant noise of the workplace around you. A short break to try and relax and be alone wasn't enough. You knew maybe things would be easier if you sat with them and told them things you heard, so they could gossip about someone else for once. But you didn’t like them. And they were too much. You needed your break to rest before getting back to work. You often sat outside on a bench alone, or took a walk.

You took a deep breath. Tonight you were going to read your new book, and ask your daddy if he wanted to play the piano. He didn’t do it as often as he used to, but you always enjoyed his music. He would do it for you, you knew it.

As a single Omega, you still lived with your parents. It was common to do so. You couldn’t live alone with your designation and it didn’t seem like you would ever move out and get your own home to look after. Your parents were disappointed, no doubt, but they always assured you they loved you, and that it would be nice in their old day to spend it with the three of you. You wondered if they had a different child than you, if they had wanted to get another. Someone easier to handle.

You walked past the shops, occasionally looking through the windows. You liked window shopping. Seeing all the new things on display, even if you didn’t buy much. You didn’t need it. But sometimes you saw something pretty and pondered if you should get it. You should buy a new dress. Most of the ones you had were getting a little old. But they were so comfortable and new dresses felt a little tight and rough. Perhaps your mother would buy some fabric and sew one for you. She knew your tastes.

A car honked next to you and you startled. When you looked around with a beating heart you noticed the car of the sheriff. He had rolled down his window and called out to you.

“Sorry, little lady, didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you walking and thought maybe you wanted a ride home?”

You blinked. A ride with the sheriff. You had never done that. “I’m fine walking.” You replied and tried to smile.

“You just look tired, is all. And it is going to rain soon.”

Was it? You didn’t feel much like getting wet. Still, this was weird. Different. What were you even going to say to him?

He opened the door from the inside though, clearly expecting you to get in, and you didn’t want to be rude. He meant well.

You clambered in, fixed your dress and your hair.

“Long day?” he mentioned. “You look tired.”

“Yes.” you answered.

“I get that, I’ve been busy since 5 this morning myself.” he sighed. “Got a call in for a robbery. Those damn Callen boys always stealin’ them chickens from the Bookers farm. Not exactly the most exciting job.”

You blinked, thought of how to reply. “Did you get them back?”

He chuckled. “Well some of ‘em. They ate at least two, but I arranged for them to work a few weeks at the place to pay them back. And I'll make damn sure they're going to show up and do the work.”

You nodded. The Bookers were cheapskates, but a theft was a theft, and you were sure they enjoyed the free labor. Those chickens couldn't be worth that much.

“You look nice today,” he mentioned suddenly.

You looked down at your dress. A little frayed around the edges. Your hair must've been less than proper because you tended to play with it if you were in thought. Maybe he was being nice. “Eh, thank you,” you mumbled.

He hummed. “That dress is a nice color.”

“Blue is my favorite,” you blurted out. You wore red today, you didn’t know why you said it.

He chuckled. “Is that right? Well I love blue.”

Your eyes looked anywhere but him, at the passing buildings and bushes. What else were you going to say? It was polite to talk back, your mother had told you. Ask about something!

“Ehm, this is a nice car,”

He turned to look at you again, not keeping his eyes on the road and you swallowed. “Well, it comes with the job, but it does its work.”

You nodded.

“Do you know how to drive?”

“Oh no. No, no. I do not.”

“I could teach you.” he offered, and your heart rate increased.

“No!...no. I don't think I can, I get nervous.”

“Well everyone gets nervous the first time, but you’ll learn soon enough, you’re a clever girl.”

You blinked at him. No one had ever called you clever before. You weren’t stupid, you werent, but no one thought you were particularly bright. “I get nervous.” you told him firmly.

He hummed “Well alright, If you change your mind, I'm more than willing.

“I don't mind walking.” you told him.

“Yeah, I see you walking around. You like looking at things don’t you?”

You looked down, ashamed, but his finger lifted your chin. You startled at the contact.

“Wasn't mocking you. I just see you sometimes. Gotta keep an eye on the crowd to make sure nothing happens, part of the job, I can’t help it. So I see you walking and befriending the neighbors cats.”

“Oh.” You didn't know what to think of this. Being watched. You always felt like you were. “I like cats.”

“I like them too. They’re a little feisty. You got one at home?”

You shook your head. “No, my parents don’t want one.”

“I was thinking about getting one. Might be nice to come home to something, you know? House is all empty.”

You understood. You’re parents rules, however, nothing you could do about it.

He sighed “ Yeah…. gets real lonely for a man by himself. You got someone waiting on ya?”

“Eh no. No, no one.” You felt nervous. You knew it was common for a girl your age to settle, or have settled already. It was embarrassing to admit.You had never even kissed before.The thought of it made you anxious though, How to even do that with a tongue, and how to move? It seemed mighty complicated.

“Me neither,” he admitted. “It’s a hard job, and not everyone can deal with being the wife of a sheriff. I’d treat her right, though. Yessir. I’d be a good husband. For the right woman. I always wanted that. A house, a wife, some kids. A nice meal when I get home…”

You hummed, like he had done before.

"You can cook?”

Your eyes moved rapidly over the car interior. “Why, yes?” it came out as a question.

“Yeah I expected you to. You’re a good girl after all. Momma raised you right.”

You felt warmth shoot through you. You didn’t know why. He was being nice. And you weren’t used to that. You actually were a pretty good cook. And you liked doing it. Relieving your mother from the hard work running a household was. And showing you cared. You know you weren’t always good with that. Often absorbed in your own head and your own feelings. So cooking was something you could do.

“Would love to have a home made meal again. It’s been so very long.”

You nodded.

He eyed you. And as the silence lingered he tsked. “Well, who knows, maybe someone will invite me someday.”

“Oh. Yes. I'm sure,” you were quick to agree. It would be nice for him. Someone cooking. Maybe Miss Oleson would, the woman was all alone and about 70, she probably would love the company.

You would ask her, so he wouldn't feel embarrassed. Miss Oleson would watch you sometimes when you were younger, and she was kind to you. She always gave you candy even if your parents had told her not too. You were fond of her.

You arrived at your house soon and you got out. He leaned towards the window again.

“If you want, I can come pick you up again tomorrow.”

You blinked. Why? Was it going to rain again tomorrow?

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s my pleasure.” he grinned. “Unless i’m being called away, but if so, I’l call you.”

“I don’t have a phone.” You eyed the laces of your shoes.

He laughed. “No silly, at your office, I can call the company.”

“Oh. Yeah that would work. I guess.”

“That’s settled then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” you mumbled and turned to walk towards the door.

As you heard him leave behind you, you suddenly remembered you hadn’t said goodbye, or thanked him. You felt your cheeks heat. You were supposed to thank someone for helping. You messed up again. Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you would make sure to thank him then. Maybe he wouldn’t think you rude anymore. And maybe you should find some questions to ask him about. So he didn’t ask you weird ones when there was silence.

You hung up your coat at the door, suddenly smelling a nice scent coming off it.

The fabric had absorbed some of his that lingered in the car. You sniffed carefully and then reared back in shame. It was kind of improper to just smell someone. You only did that to someone you knew better. Like family, or…or a suitor.

Still, the scent lingered in your nose as you walked away, and it was pleasant enough for you to feel a little lighter for the rest of the evening.

Part 2

[gardenwalrus]

The Beatles speaking about themselves in DISC (12 October 1963) [Paul & John section here]

[GEORGE] Our dress style has changed…  It was when I was relaxing in a Boeing jet on the way back from America last week that I realised that in many ways I was still the same George Harrison I was before The Beatles were so well known. But I also realise that in some ways my life HAS changed - mostly for the better I’m glad to say.  The most obvious change is financial. That’s very nice, but I don’t think it's the most important thing. It’s nice to be able to buy a new car and new clothes when you want them, but I was happy when I couldn’t afford these things.  One big way The Beatles generally have changed is in their style of dress. Eighteen months ago, for instance, we dressed far more casually than we do now. 

I think my social life has changed considerably as well. Now we meet far more people than we ever met before.  I mean, like, when we appear at a one-night stand we’re often invited back after the show to a nearby club. People seem to go out of their way to try and make sure we have a little fun after our work.  A question I’ve been asked quite a few times over the past 12 months is: “What do you think is the right age to get married?”  I honestly think there’s no such thing as ‘the right age.’ I think that you should get married when you decide that this is the time when you should get married. This is a decision which you can only make yourself. There’s no correct age.  In my personal tastes, I’m a bit undecided about clothes, too. I haven’t got any definite preferences. But if something I see pleases me I’ll buy it and wear it whether it’s in the French style, or Italian, or English.  One thing I really do get enthusiastic about is music. As I’ve said before in DISC, I like the coloured American groups like The Shirelles and The Miracles. But I’m fond of a lot of other music - Segovia on classical guitar, for example. 

+

[RINGO] I’m the silent type…  I’m the one the boys call the silent type. Well, I haven’t got all that much to say for myself, and I prefer to listen to other people speaking. My real name is Richard Starkey, but the Ringo bit has been with me for so long, I don’t think of myself as a ‘Richard’ anymore. Of all the Beatles, I live nearest to the city centre - about 10 minutes walk and six bus stops away. It’s not a rich part of town, but my mum has all her friends there and doesn’t want to move out.  Some of my family are just outside London. They sometimes come and visit us, and once a year my dad makes a trek down south.  I want to do things for my family, but they keep telling me to save my money. Eventually I think I’ll open a chain of hairdressing shops in and around Liverpool. I’d like my main shop to be in the centre of the city, and be THE place.  I have enough hairdressing friends to keep the shops well staffed, but feel with a haircut like mine it would be best for me to stay away from them!  I have my hair cut about once every three months! I’m joking of course. I have it trimmed when the mood takes me and have no special barber.  You don’t hear very much about me in the group, because I don’t sing. I had my big and only singing moment on ‘Boys’ for our LP, and really made the most of it.  And, surprisingly enough, although I’m a drummer I don’t have a favourite musician. Well, not a real one. I like to see good showmanship in any artist, and I hope to get a chance of seeing Brook Benton while he’s in England. It’s a stroke of luck he’ll be doing the Palladium show at the same time as us, but I’ll probably be so nervous, I won’t have time to appreciate his act.  I don’t eat very much. If I did, I’d probably have much more energy. As a kid, I was very fond of chips and jam-butty (that’s a jam sandwich), and to this day, I still like it. Even if I enjoyed it, I don’t think I’d ever get used to eating caviar or drinking champagne.  One of my ambitions in life is to learn how to play the piano. I’d willingly take lessons if only I had the time. But my main ambition is to be happy all the time.  Yet I don’t relax very much. I like to be active. Even if I have a chance to go on holiday, instead of sitting in the sun all day I’m off exploring the local neighbourhood. I think I do this because if I didn’t I’d be nothing more than just plain lazy! I very rarely go near a Chinese or Italian restaurant. Don’t like either food, and if anything has onions in it then I’m completely done for.  I’m mad for rings. I wear four, and would wear them on all my fingers if I didn’t think they’d get in the way. Often I get wrist ache from drumming too much, but the only other ailment I suffer from is occasional colds. I’m not as bad as John though. He keeps on losing his voice. Never doing a performance, but usually just after a recording session. 

[shanblackrx]

Ok, first of all, I have just rewatched the special episode and although I already knew how it'd end, the moment the credits went up I literally buried my face in my hands and SOBBED. It's not that hard to make me cry with media, but I usually just tear up and nothing more. The last time I remember sobbing like this was with the end of Chimera Ants arc of Hunter x Hunter manga, which is a completely different type of story and media whatsoever, back in 2012. And I didn't know the end. Spectacular manga btw go read it

That said, I'm freshly out of it so here's a few of my considerations, personal opinions and also my theory. I'm not diving into the analysis of the episode itself for now, as I like to make these for more specific things I find in the work so they deserve a separate post for each, though I will be analyzing the post-credits scene because we don't have answers so we need to speculate.

Looooong text with almost no pictures ahead, just my yapping:

I expected the special episode to be really just Jack and Joke's cute little established relationship, which we did get to see (they're so disgustingly sappy, oh my god. I love them) for a good chunk of the episode. But we all also expected the wedding which, technically, did happen, just not how we wanted.

I think a lot of us just wanted only the happy part of it, maybe just a small conflict that would resolve within the story, which is what special episodes usually offer, especially because the original series wraps up perfectly and doesn't really give that much room for a continuation. And I think that because a lot of people expected this, they were utterly disappointed with it, even mad (that and also killing off one of the leads, like. Yeah I get it lol).

And I understand. Jack & Joker is perfectly balanced, with a nice and perfect ending. If I could choose, I wouldn't want a continuation either - you know, the chances of ruining a perfectly good show increases if you extend it for more than it should, and J&J is already perfect the way it is.

But I was offered the special episode, and now I have to work with it.

The first time I watched it I thought it was a bit rushed and confusing, albeit very intense (in a positive way). In my much calmer (as one can be), much less stressed out and anxious mood of my rewatch, I could feel it better. And I think it's way more seamless than I thought at first. Curiously, I also had the same feeling with the og series; it got so, so much better once I've rewatched it, and it kept getting better with all the small details I caught in every new watch.

It still has all the essence of J&J. The absurd comedy, the action, the romance, the heavy angst, the visuals, the lack of canon tattooaran even if it's heavily hinted. So all in all it was still a complete J&J experience.

I really do like the fact Save is not a perfect boss - he's basically just a math kid. He's not prepared to take care of a whole neighborhood like he did with bank accounts. Variables - people - were not in the system of his little bank computer. Taking care of a whole community is no easy task, especially since he is no mafia, he doesn't have the kind of experience and intimidation to keep bad apples in check. And even so, he still worked his hardest; and even so, it's still not enough.

So having criminals that were under Alice's thumb but now scattered like cockroaches searching for another ditch make having control over these fires they set even harder. I think it's a nice and coherent touch, and stuff happening because of it makes sense.

Also, although the uwu language JackJoke used throughout the moments they were out and about making everyone unwilling witnesses of their disgusting love was extremely funny and cute, it was really nice to see their heartfelt conversation when they were alone in Jack's room. It felt much more like they were baring their hearts for the other to hold, a genuine moment of intimacy, especially since they were making their wedding invites individually and by hand. It bore such a huge significance to their relationship I really can't begin to tell you how much I loved this scene. (they're also wearing shirts of complementary colors 😭💚)

I wasn't really expecting Carbon to make a comeback. But his explanation on why makes sense, and once again it hints that money and power walk together. It also gives him a more definite end (dying, finally. bitch) to take him out the picture for good since he could just eventually walk out the prison and go after them once again.

The casino mission was SUCH a delightful surprise to me! It's such a heavy wave to the pilot episode and it was really thrilling. Joke playing and cheating on poker was one of the sexiest things he could've ever done in his life lmao also even when he's cheating he manages to be gay af with his little ace and jack cards.

Admittedly, I was a bit underwhelmed with the fighting scenes. A lot of them were subpar compared to the ones in the og show, it not only lacked intensity but it was also awkward to see people in the background waiting to join the fight instead of throwing themselves into it, much like Jack's rampaging into Boss' office, which is one of my absolute favorite scenes in the og show, that's what I was expecting of them. However it was super nice to see the other piggies fighting with what they had, showing they were better prepared. Aran here takes the cake for me.

After that it was downhill. Joke not letting other people decide his destiny is one of the most Joke things in the entire show. With all that was happening it was rather predictable, but then again J&J does its thing and takes the predictability for a twist. "กูรักมึงที่รัก" ???? Using tirak in this situation when every other situation it was used was extremely, sickeningly sweet? Devastating. These words in that tone will be branded on my brain forever.

The whole thing with Jack going through the stages of grief and the ghost wedding destroyed me, even more so in my rewatch. Once again I'm here EATING UP Yin's crying scenes (one of my most favorite scenes in any BL ever is Vee crying under the rain at the bridge). I know everyone talks about War's acting when it comes to crying and obviously he always nails it, but I still think Yin should have more recognition in these kind of scenes too, because he always manage to make it so heartbreaking, and it wasn't different here.

The swings scene with him hallucinating Joke to be able to accept his presumed death was one of the most beautiful, most heartbreaking 'endings' I've seen in a Thai BL.

HOWEVER. I absolutely refused to believe they'd actually end in that note. It could be as devastatingly beautiful as it gets but I genuinely thought if they ended it like that it'd be SUCH a huge stab in the back of fans. Jack and Joke barely managed to live a happy life to then be yanked from it. It really didn't feel fair, that they gave us such a perfect little ending in the og show to then just say 'how about no?'. I was honestly in shock and denial. I was really thinking like 'I really, genuinely don't think they'd do this. I will only believe it ends like this when the episode reaches the end and stops playing by itself.'

And I'm glad I thought like that because they really didn't let me down. Some Marvel level of post-credits scene this is. The relief to see Joke isn't actually dead. The enormous cliffhanger.

I still am of the opinion that J&J didn't need a continuation, but now that it's out there, I just hope it's as good as the og show. And that maybe we don't have to wait for another 2 years, although I will gladly do so if that means they will deliver another sublime experience.

But I also hope it ends with that and they manage to move on to other, new things, because they've already proven they can do anything they want and it will be good. I really, really want them to take over the Thai BL world as a power couple with their independent productions, because they showed everyone they can.

Now, to the post-credits scene. Here goes my theory:

Reading all theories and also frying my brain to come up with what will they do with that cliffhanger, I thought of something that might make sense. This, however, would only work (well) in a full 10-12 eps season rather than another special episode or movie.

First of all, I think it's a new character (and that's why I think this will only work with a full season, because introducing a new character just for a short episode will give no substance to it). It's no one we know and I tell you why I think that: Joke had someone specific in mind. I don't think he's talking about Carbon here. Especially because everyone in the conversation knows Carbon very personally, he could just say his name.

So having this in mind, he might've been referring to this new character. So the fact this person is the one... 'housing' Joke, and who tended to his wounds, and also for his shock, this person might be either an old cellmate or someone else that's been incarcerated and Joke knows about or personally. Maybe a rival thief. So he's talking about this person here.

Also, VERY important missing information in the subs: Joke says "someone like me" in the sense of 'has the same abilities/did/does the same things'. This is crucial information that is in several other subs but not in the English one. Because the English subs on this ep are dogshit, lbr.

So I think one option that could happen:

This person wants Joke to either work for or with them. After all, you can't just wipe an alias like "legendary thief" in a year. Whatever it is that they want him for, it might be convenient for them that Joke's deemed dead, or they actually needed Joke to "die" for it to work. They might be in cahoots with someone we already know, or they might be acting alone.

This can be a double-edged sword because the person can be good, neutral or evil and we might not know until the very last minute.

Now one thing that caught my attention: The black shirt in the background.

Absolutely nothing when it's about clothes is Just There in J&J. There's always a lot of subtle storytelling in their clothes, especially when it comes to black and white. And specifically a black shirt hanging in so openly there and no other piece of clothing while Joke is wearing white? This is deliberate.

Do you remember Jack's red ticket? When the joker turns black to white, etc? This might be the opposite of that. This might mean starting from square one, undoing everything up to that point, or it might also mean Joke's darkening arc. Joke's wearing white, so washing this away to taint it black. It might also mean someone who's opposite of him if the shirt is referring to this new character, but I'm not too sold on this idea since black is mainly Jack's motif, especially in relation to Joke. Also, maybe this is the 'enemies' Nang was talking about.

And maybe because Joke has no choice but to do what he's told, whether if it's under threat or because maybe Jack would be in danger if he doesn't because that's their thing, or both, probably both, he can't show up to Jack or any of the piggies, and that is the main conflict of the season.

This can tie with the whole 'moving on' thing about Jack that everyone is terrified of. I don't think that even if it might seem so to add to the tension, Jack will ever actually move on; not FROM Joke at least. He can move on from the pain, make peace with the idea he's not coming back, but not from what he feels for Joke. If Joke appeared in front of him be it tomorrow or in 10 years, he'd probably just resume their lives together (after coming back from the shock of seeing him alive which can take some time). He himself said Joke is the one he loves the most. And some people change you so viscerally and completely that they'll always mean the same to you, forever, which is definitely the case for both.

Maybe if we're going through this route because J&J's classic angst and pain, Joke's gonna watch him from afar going on with his life, then that lack of self-worth he has that I'm pretty sure doesn't just vanish in such a short time even if he's found love and some healing, might keep him from approaching Jack even if he wants to and can do so; he wouldn't want to ruin whatever Jack has built without him so far.

If that's the case, if this really happened, I'd want Jack to find out and tackle Joke on the ground when he's being watched just like their first encounter after the 5 years. It'd be one of the most poetic cinema cycle closing one could pull off with this possible new season. But that's just my wishful thinking.

It can also be something completely different and I'm all for it as long as it retains J&J vibe, quality and unpredictable turns.

And also many more YinWar kissies, there's never enough of those.

[mauveisroyalexo]

C H A P T E R — T W O

Summary: As the days lead up to the infamous dinner for the courting season, Akira becomes overwhelmed with all the sudden changes. Secrets are revealed and relationships are formed, but is it all for Akira’s benefit?

Warnings: strong language, breeding kink, heavy smut, strong violence, angst, parallel polyandry relationships, omegaverse, a/b/o, slow burn, trauma/healing themes, abusive family.

WC: 8,966

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“Akira, can I talk to you for a moment?”

I was in the middle of packing my books away when my mother entered my room. I never really saw my mother before, like really see her. She didn’t look like she aged much, even with the few streaks of gray in her curls. We were nearly built the same but still, she was slimmer than me. And her caramel complexed skin seemed a few shades lighter than my own.

“Did you need me to do something for you, mama?” I stopped what I was doing and straightened my posture. She just shook her head, closed the door behind her and walked over to me. I moved the cardboard box I was placing my books in, to the top of my bed and sat down. When by my mother sat down, I could see the tiredness in her eyes. I could see the worry and the concern. I had no idea what was troubling her, but like always, I knew it had something to do with me,

“Akira…baby, I know your life hasn’t been an easy one.” I looked down at my shirt and started playing with the hem. I hate awkward conversations like this. I don’t like getting into the details of my childhood, much of which I’m thankful I blocked out. “Last night’s celebration dinner shouldn’t have happened. We should’ve fully celebrated you finding your pack too.”

“It’s fine mama, I’m used to it.” I shrugged, getting up quickly to grab more books when I saw that she was about to reach for me.

“It’s not fine, Akira. Your brother tells me that the leader believes his pack are your mates? That’s a higher rarity.” I looked up from my books when I saw how interested my mother looked. I squinted,

“I seem to hear that a lot lately. I’m a “rarity”. It’s rare for a full human to be born in a family of wolves; it’s rare for me to have mates, let alone seven of them—I’m really confused and really tired of hearing it.” I usually never get upset with my mother but the word ‘rarity’ suddenly became triggering. I felt like I didn’t belong, like I was the family pet or an unwanted guest. Being rare in something that should be normal didn’t make me feel special.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you, Akira. I just meant that knowing that your pack is filled with your partners and not just strangers is rare. It changes things now.” My mother tried to explain. I frowned, still confused,

“How?”

I watched my mother sigh as she tried to think of a way to explain things, “In our world, when wolves find their true mate, be it an alpha with another alpha or an alpha and omega—even omega and omega—they have to go through the courting process. Betas do too but because we don’t really have mates, it feels more like…human dating than it is with wolves.” I know that she’s trying to explain, but once again my mother lost me.

“I’m still confused, mama.” I started my packing again, making sure the last of my books were secured before moving on to my clothes. Opening the closet; I looked at the limited amount I had in the small storage space. I truly didn’t own much.

“The process starts out similar: during courting, you have to get to know each other. Then there’s the meeting of the familial packs, followed by a crossover ceremony—.”

“A crossover ceremony?” I interrupted, “Where exactly do you crossover to?”

My mother giggled, “It’s a ceremony when the familial alpha transfers the responsibility of taking care of their pup over to the new pack leader. You become part of the new leader’s pack.”

“Like a wedding ceremony.” I figured that’s why it was so similar. It’s exactly like a wedding.

“Yes, similar to that. Only when involving mates, the difference is you have to meet with the family. You have seven mates, my love, that’s more than what’s required.” She laughed again, “With betas, it’s more like a human ritual, an actual wedding, to make it more special because our wolf is neutral. It does not need to seek a mate, it simply just wants to have one, it’s not as instinctual like it is with alphas and omegas. If it were just a regular crossing over, like with Justine and Theo, who aren’t mates, it would be like a regular wedding type of ceremony.”

“But…I don’t feel anything that they do.” I shrugged, throwing my folded clothes into another box. I wouldn’t really be leaving until the courting process, I guess, was done. Whatever that may look like for me, “I don’t feel anything werewolves feel.” I walked back over to my closet to grab more folded clothes, “Why are we talking about this? Are you saying you have to marry me off in order to have me move in with a new pack?”

“In a way…yes. Truthfully, I didn’t think I’d be having this talk with you.”

“Neither did I.” I agreed. I kind of thought I’d be at home taking care of my parents but I guess they had other plans. “I don’t think I even pictured my life with anyone.”

“Akira…” my mother frowned as I placed more clothes away, clothes I knew I wouldn't be wearing for a while, “I promise I didn’t mean it in a negative way, it’s just…there’s certain things that you have to know and do—.”

“Oh god, please tell me you’re not telling me I have to sleep with them, too.” I froze, scared that this is what this conversation was really about. My mother shook her head,

“No, and I’m so sorry about what your father said. You do not have to immediately sleep with them, or ever, the point I’m trying to make is that courting is a little different than just dating. It leads to a sort of marriage. If you were an omega, alphas would gift you things that omegas need: soft blankets or clothing to feel warm, things with their scent so that you’d feel safe, things you’d need for a nest. For alphas, they just want a true alpha to take charge, to know where their place is in a hierarchy. It takes the pressure off of them.”

“And for betas?” I questioned, curious.

“Well, for me and other betas, we liked being considered. Betas' role in society is to mediate. Our job is kind of like we’re second in charge; we temper alphas when they get too out of control. But we like knowing that our words are heard. That everything we say and the reasons behind it are taken into consideration.” I looked away. I find it funny that her job is to temper my father, and yet that isn’t at all what’s been happening. I could feel her eyes on me, “…I know your father’s temper isn’t great,” she spoke quietly. I covered my bruise as her eyes lingered on my arm, “but he still loves you.”

“Please,” I nearly snapped, rolling my eyes to myself, “don’t lie to me. Joseph hates me and you trying to sugarcoat it isn’t helping anything.” I scoffed, finding a stopping point in my packing. I would have to start lunch soon since my large family likes to come over for every meal.

“It’s the truth Akira, your father does love you.” My mother stood, reaching out to touch me. I didn’t even think about it when I flinched away, expecting her to grab me harshly too. That seems to be this family’s go-to.

“He doesn’t love me, he tolerates me. I know the truth now and I’m learning to live with it. Once this courting thing is done for Naomi, I will leave. You shouldn’t have come here, I don’t need a ceremony, I don’t want it! I don’t need a pity party because you suddenly feel guilty, just—.” I stopped spouting, trying to calm my nerves. “You don’t have to lie anymore. Whatever his reasons, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Akira, you couldn’t be more wrong. Your father does love you and no, he doesn’t show it, but he won’t deny it—.”

“He told me if it were up to him he would’ve left me in the woods years ago! That you begged him to keep me!” I was fed up with my mother’s blind trust in this man. He was no longer my father and if she keeps it up, she would no longer be my mother, “Stop apologizing for him! Stop lying to me and most of all, stop lying to yourself because we both know if I had presented, none of what I’ve been through would’ve happened!” I moved past my mother and left my room. I started feeling guilty for having this fight with my mother, but I also didn’t want to apologize for finally saying what I felt. I have been holding in my feelings for so long, to finally express them felt relieving. I don’t know if I could ever go back to hiding it anymore.

“Would you like some help today, Akira?”

I stopped peeling my potatoes to see Naomi standing in the open archway of the kitchen. I looked at her confused as to why she suddenly wanted to help me. I watched as she walked further, snatching an extra apron off the hook on the pantry door and tied it around her. I felt like I was stuck for a moment. Frozen in place over how she quickly grabbed a potato and a peeler, then got to work, “…Naomi, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping, what does it look like little sister?” Naomi laughed, peeling carefully. I stared at the sink for a moment before putting my potato down,

“Why are you helping me? Don’t you usually keep to yourself?” What is it with my family all of a sudden? One is trying to tell me about wolf traditions, another is trying to help me cook—I’m starting to think I’m in the twilight zone.

“I just want to help, don’t make a big deal out of it.” Naomi shrugged, placing her peeled potato into the bowl of water before moving onto the next one. I looked at her for a moment longer before going back to prepping lunch in silence. Making such large batches of food was common in my family. Everyone on the compound came to eat, it was a tradition my grandmother started and it just stayed that way. With my aunts and uncles and their children and grandchildren, it can get pretty rowdy, but nothing I wasn’t used to. Once prepping was done, I was now getting anxious with the silence between Naomi and I. This was out of the norm for us and usually, cooking was my only alone time, my time where I felt safe. “Naomi, please, why are you helping me? It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, it’s just…weird.”

“Fine. I felt bad about what happened at the summit.” She stared at my arm for a moment, probably noticing the bruise. It finally stopped hurting this morning, thankfully. “Yesterday, I should’ve noticed your fidgeting, but Jackson and I were talking more and more and I just—.”

“It’s fine Naomi.” I shook my head, checking over the pork chops we were having today, “You seemed to be hitting it off with Jackson, my thing with father shouldn’t interfere with that.”

“How do you do that?” She asked me quietly. I furrowed my brow,

“Do what?”

“Shrug every grievance off like it’s nothing; look at your arm. It’s the nastiest bruise I’ve ever seen. And that thing at dinner last night, he’s putting something that happened to grandpa onto you and you just take it.”

I sighed, stopping my stirring of the gravy on the stove to get my anger in check. Then I replied, “What exactly am I supposed to do, Naomi? He’s stronger than me. He’s bigger than me. If he really wanted to—and let’s face it, he probably does—he could kill me by snapping my neck in half. You’re telling me to stand up against him, against everyone who is like him in our family like I have a choice, I don’t! I represent everything he hates! I represent the very thing that took his father away from him, that man will never love me like he loves his other children and that’s the bottom line of it!” Naomi stared at me like I had three heads. Maybe because she didn’t expect me to get angry, maybe it’s because I refuse to fight him, but I have three months of this left. Once the ceremony for Jackson and Naomi is over, I have to start my life over with the Kim-Bangtan pack, and I’m actually not scared about it anymore.

“Once I found out the truth, accepting my fate just seemed…easier.” I went back to stirring the gravy, “Joseph Baptiste doesn’t love me and he wants me gone just as much as everyone else does.” I felt my face become warm and my eyes start to burn, “Over the years, I thought that that was just his way, that he wasn’t an affectionate man. But it wasn’t until recently, right after you spoke to me in my room, before the summit, that I started remembering everything I blocked out.” I looked over at Naomi, barely making out her face due my eyes watering. Naomi had this look on her face, I couldn’t tell if it was disgust or concern or sadness, “You were right, we didn’t celebrate my birthday as much. Then we just completely stopped altogether. Christmases, I was lucky if anyone remembered me, usually it was grandmother, while all of you got mountains of presents. Halloween, everyone got costumes they wanted while suddenly there was no time left to buy mine so I had to use hand-me-downs. Eventually, I just stopped asking, I stopped going with you. There were no sweet memories like baking with mama or going fishing with Joseph. You all have those, I don’t. You didn’t cry yourself to sleep, I did. You didn’t get whoopings when you did anything wrong, I did.

“I never rocked the boat. When everyone joined team sports or activities in school, I never asked to join because I didn’t want him or mama to have to spend even more money on me. I didn’t even fight back when he decided to take me out of school my junior year of high school, I just accepted it. I learned to..block it out.” I chuckled, stepping back from the stove as tears fell down my face, “I taught myself to be quiet. To do what was needed to not make anyone upset because it was easier. To be numb was just easier.” I wiped my face and closed my eyes as I tried to control my breathing, “I kept telling myself that if I just did what he wanted me to do—clean, cook, stay quiet, don’t bother him, whatever…it’ll be easier. I could survive it. It’s like I never existed as part of this family, and that’s the way he wanted it until now.” It surprised me to see tears stream down Naomi’s face. “You told me once how you didn’t like that the attention was on you. I don’t know what that feels like at all.” I shrugged. The saddest chuckle I could give slipped past my lips. I walked over to the counter near the kitchen sink and grabbed a paper towel to wipe my face.

The wind was knocked out of me as the feeling of two strong arms wrapped around my waist. My heart rate sped up, thinking I was in trouble when I heard a whimper, “I’m so sorry, Akira. I’m sorry I never did anything to stop it.” I never heard Naomi cry, ever, and it was unsettling. If anything, it made me even more nervous, “Your heart is beating so fast are you…are you scared of me too?” She seemed hurt? It wasn’t an emotion I would easily associate with Naomi, hell yeah I was scared.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve been scared of all of you ever since we learned I wouldn’t be a werewolf, and it’s the first time you’ve hugged me, ever, please let go of me.” I was shaking at this point. Feeling as though she could probably snap my spine in half if she squeezed too tight. Naomi let go of me and I let out a shaken breath.

“That’s fair, I don’t blame you for how you feel.” Naomi wiped her face, “If I was in your position, I’d be scared too. You endured so much over the years, I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did.”

“I almost didn’t…” Naomi’s eyes widened. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about my suicide attempt but for some reason, I wanted to tell Naomi. I think I wanted to trust her. “When I was sixteen…Joseph took me out of school. It was the only place I felt comfortable. You didn’t talk to me then. I guess you and Braxton didn’t want people to know I was your sister, and that was fine, I made friends with humans like me.” I shrugged, picking at the paper towel, “It wasn’t like I was doing poorly, I made really good grades, good enough to skip to senior level if I wanted, but I guess after a month or so of school left, when he found out that Keith Jackson planned to ask me out after he kissed me one day during P.E., he pulled me out of school. Til this day, I still don’t know how he found out, but we argued as soon as we got home. I don’t remember much of that day but what I do remember was him grabbing his belt and whipping so hard that you could hear the belt before it connected. I remember being grabbed by the back of my neck so hard it bruised. He didn’t care when mama told him to stop, he wanted to make an example out of me. So I just laid there on the living room floor and went somewhere else in my mind until it was over.”

“We were told you got in trouble at school, we didn’t know that was the reason…Fuck Akira, you couldn’t leave your room for a week, you were so bruised.” Naomi gasped.

“I tried slitting my wrists later that night but couldn’t go through with it so I found pills in mama’s medicine cabinet. I knew it was strong enough to put me to sleep but I ended up not taking enough.” I sighed, regretting not finishing the whole bottle, “God, 7 pills was just not enough.”

“Do you..do you still think about it?” Naomi questioned me. I looked her dead in the eyes, unmoving,

“What do you think, Naomi?”

“Lunch was delicious Akira, thank you! I think the kids even wanted thirds!”

I smiled as my Aunt Regina handed me her empty plate. “I can’t take all the credit, Naomi helped.” Everyone’s eyes shot to Naomi who felt very on the spot. I bit my lip, shrugging.

“I uh..I figured I needed more practice in the kitchen seeing as how I’ll have seven mouths to feed now that I’ll be joining a new pack. I wanted to see how Akira managed it all by herself.” Everyone seemed pleased with the answer but my father was unfazed. He wiped his mouth then held out his plate for me to grab. I sighed, then grabbed his plate. Naomi got up and started helping me clear the dishes, “Oh, Naomi you don’t have to get that, I’ll clean up everything.”

“I want to.” Naomi smiled, “I wanna help.” After gathering all the dishes, we headed to the kitchen. The children at the smaller dining table were making a mess, but nothing that was too big to clean up. I sat the dishes in the sink before heading over to the table, grabbing the littlest of the children out of his high chair. I placed him on my hip then told the children to finish up so I could clean up. Naomi just pretty much watched me the whole time, watching me take care of our cousin Nikki’s son, Jayden, “Did this little pup make a mess today? Yes you did!” I tickled him, listening to his cute laugh. I cleaned up his face and picked up the shirt I took off earlier back onto him.

“You do this every day? Clean this house, cooking all the meals, watch over the kids? Did you even eat yet?”

I shook my head ‘no’, “If I have time to, I’ll eat, if not, then I just end up binge eating. Probably the reason why I’m so big now.” I muttered the last part to myself, though I’m sure Naomi could hear me, “I get to eat after my chores are done and everyone’s left.”

“That’s really sad, Akira. How are you taking care of so much and not taking care of yourself?”

I squinted, “It’s not like I get a lot of help. You realize this is the first time you've helped me in the kitchen, ever, right?” Naomi looked away. I sighed, “Sorry. I’m just not used to you saying more than two words to me, yesterday and today kinda threw me off.” I fixed Jayden’s onesie then placed him back on my hip.

“Was I really that bad of a sister to you?” Naomi seemed genuinely curious about her behavior towards me. Over the years, she was indifferent. She didn’t seem to care either way about what I did or what happened to me. She just seemed to exist in her own world, “Was I so bad of a sister that I didn’t see your depression?”

“You weren’t bad, you were absent. You didn’t want to see, Naomi.” I snipped, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden attention she was giving me, “I don’t know what type of game you’re playing at, and I don’t care. Just please, go back to how you used to be with me, by ignoring me.”

“It's not a game, Akira, I really feel horrible about how I didn’t treat you like a big sister is supposed to.” Naomi urged, walking a few steps closer to me, “I thought about my own situation and ignored yours. Compared to yours, mine wasn’t even that bad.”

“Don’t do that.” Naomi tilted her head at me, “Don’t downplay your situation in this family by sympathizing with mine. I may not know what being a beta is like, but I do know what it feels like to have expectations forced on you.”

Naomi chuckled lightly and shook her head, “There you go again, little sister. Always thinking of others, never yourself.” I didn’t reply to that statement. I rocked Jayden, who decided to lay his head on my chest. Naomi decided to clean up the table and put the kids' dishes away. Each one of the kids hugged me and then I handed over Jayden to his older brother, Jacobi. After cleaning up the area, Naomi decided to help me with the dishes. She decided to talk more, telling me about her phone calls with Jackson and how he wants her to meet the rest of the pack soon. She asked about Namjoon, “Um, Namjoon is nice, I guess. He texts me, I guess he figured out I don’t like to talk as much.”

“He thinks you’re nervous, I can smell it on you.” Naomi motioned, taking a sniff, “Jackson said their packs grew up together, that they’ve been brother packs for a long time. He thinks Namjoon really likes you.” Naomi smiled. I blinked, the new information surprising me,

“You…You think he does?” I asked nervously. I wasn’t sure if I like Namjoon that way but I knew I felt something with him. Yesterday, at the summit, he seemed solely focused on me, even his beta, Jin, seemed more focused on me, “Mama said that his pack are my mates. I thought you’re supposed to have one mate. I thought humans couldn’t have mates.”

“It’s not black and white. Having a human mate isn’t taboo but it’s not necessarily normal or heard of. Having a human partner is a choice whereas having a mate is not. You’re biologically fated to be with them. Your pheromones are supposed to complement each other. That’s how you find your mate so really, you being mated to them is a phenomenon within itself, especially since three of them are betas. Betas don’t have mates, and the way I saw Jin react to you at the summit? Biologically, this isn’t supposed to happen.” Naomi was in deep thought by this point, I could see it on her face.

“What do you mean how he reacted?” Now I was curious myself at what she saw.

“There’s this thing that happens to alphas and omegas when they find their mate. Their wolf takes over their human mind for a brief period of time, no more than a few minutes. You notice it in the eye color; their eyes shimmer when their wolf is present. That doesn’t happen with betas, they don't have mates, and it definitely doesn’t happen with humans. It’s actually very odd that we noticed it.” I assumed the ‘we’ was my family when they spoke at the summit. Rather than make both of our brains implode, I changed the subject, “I wish I understood what the courting ritual process was like. Mama tried to explain it to me, but I don’t really understand it.”

Naomi shrugged, “From what I heard, there’s a ritual for each sub gender. It’s three months long and the heads of each familial pack meet to discuss the terms of their alliances and lay down the rules. Like if anything were to happen to us while we’re in the responsibility of our mate, the alliances would be broken. First we, as the ones being inducted into a new pack, have to honor our new pack’s familial leader by giving them a present. Then, the pack we’re being transferred to has to give us a present. It’s a sign of welcoming. If they're your mate, it’ll be something special to them to give to you since that’s their way of being vulnerable. If not, it’ll be something special, just not something of theirs, it’ll be store bought more than likely.

“Then there’s the first dinner. Each family wants to watch how you work with each other, to see if it’ll be a good match. After which the mothers or the highest ranking female of each family will start the planning process for the ceremony. While they go do that, the courting phase between the intended is like…dating for humans; you go out on dates, you spend time getting to know each other, etc.. Throughout all of this, there will be dress fittings and preparations for the grand ceremony.”

I probably looked terrified to her because Naomi just laughed, “What happens at the ceremony??”

“From what I was told, you pledge your alliance to your new pack, light the unity candle and kiss. The mating mark comes later, but that’s for betas to decide if they want the mark. For alphas and omegas, it’s instinctual, but betas have the right to choose if they want it or not since we don’t really have mates.”

“Would you get your mating mark?” I wondered, wanting to know her thoughts on it.

“Probably not. That’s something you do if you really love that person; you’re linked to them forever if you do that and while I like Jackson, I don’t know him. Three months is not a long time to know if I want that deep of a commitment.”

“But you’re practically marrying him.” I theorized, putting away the dishes in the dishwasher while Naomi scrapped the remains on lunch down the disposal, “That’s a commitment within itself.”

“But I can choose to walk away. Like I said little sister, it’s not all black and white. A mating mark symbolizes your wolf connection being made. Your emotions, your thoughts…your soul is forever linked to each other. If one of you dies, you’re forever mourning the loss.”

“Like grandmother..” I realized now how she never truly looked happy but the only time she did was when she talked about grandpa. “God, I can’t imagine living like that.”

Naomi placed the last dish in the dishwasher after rinsing it off, “Honestly, I have no clue what all of this will be like for you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of humans with a mating mark, let alone having to go through the ritual practices with multiple mates and their families. I just know based on what mama told me her experience was.” I nodded in reply, still reeling over the fact that I have to do all of this. Still, I didn’t believe that that would be the case for me, “I don’t know. I don’t exactly see our parents shelling out money for my ceremony. If anything, I expected them to solely focus on yours and I would just maybe get sent away to Namjoon’s.”

“No.” Naomi closed the dishwasher and turned to me, “No, I will make sure that you’re included, Akira. The crossing over ceremony is a huge deal, and even though I don’t like the attention, I’m actually looking forward to it. It’s a huge honor to know someone has chosen you, and you have seven men who are very powerful in our community, they chose you. I can’t tell you if you’re really their mate or if they think you are or if it’s biological or emotional but they chose you. It should be celebrated just as any other wolf’s crossover.”

“I’m not a wolf.” I countered.

“You are now.” Naomi quipped back.

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but the discernment I felt towards Naomi was slowly dissipating. She showed me more kindness today than I’ve seen in a lifetime. And while I was still on the fence, I couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe Naomi was trying with me, and I’ll be honest, I’m glad that she is.

“What about this? This would make a great gift to give to the head of their familial pack.”

It had been a couple of weeks since the summit had taken place, and my parents already started things in motion between Jackson and Namjoon. I managed to get out of my comfort zone and actually spoke to Namjoon on the phone. I couldn’t believe how patient he was with me. I know I’m practically moving at a snail’s pace with getting to know him, but all of it was so new to me. I have no idea what to expect from him or anyone else for that matter.

“Jade is supposed to be a lucky gem in Chinese culture, maybe this hair comb for Jackson’s mother would be nice.” My mother took Naomi and I to the mall to find gifts for our first dinner with the heads of the familial packs. Well, that was the plan. It took us an hour and a half to get to that point because Naomi and mother wanted to go shopping first, “Or look at these earrings, maybe those.”

“Maybe both? I really want her to like me.” It’s unsettling to see Naomi this way. Maybe it’s because she and Jackson talked damn near everyday since the summit or maybe she’s secretly always been this person that I’m just now seeing, but whatever the case, it’s unsettling. I would rather the nonchalant, indifferent, hate-the-world Naomi than…whatever this is.

“We should really find gifts for your in-laws too, Akira. There’s seven of them you have to impress.” My mother expressed happily, moving onto other things in the store. I don’t even know the name of the place we’re in but it felt like we’ve been here for hours. “Goodness, seven mates…this has to be the most unprecedented event ever.”

“My crossing over isn’t that big of a deal. I bet there won’t even be a ceremony for me.”

Naomi scoffed, “Please. You’re the mate of one of these most important packs in the city, you’re all anyone talks about these days.” I watched my mother nod her head in agreement, “Just pay attention, haven’t you noticed the stares we’ve gotten since being here?” I frowned, suddenly looking around the store, noticing a few glances and whispers thrown my way. Had I always been this aloof to not see the gawking and murmuring happening around me?

“This is…everyone’s really s-staring..?” I nervously pulled on the strap of my crossbody purse. I felt my anxiety get the best of me—I never had so much attention on me like this, it was uncomfortable.

“Well now you’ve gone and made her nervous.” My mother tutted, shushing me though her comment was aimed at Naomi, “It’s alright, Akira. It’s nothing to feel nervous about.”

“What if I mess up with the gifts? What if their families don't like me?? What if they don’t want their sons to have a human in their pack?!”

My mother grabbed my face and shushed me, having probably heard my uptick in heartbeats seconds before I felt it. My hands felt hot and clammy. I felt dizzy and winded, like I couldn’t breathe and could faint any moment. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of these people. I didn’t want to embarrass anyone. “Breathe Akira, I’m sure if they had a problem with you, they would’ve called it all off days ago. They are not the people to tempt fate. If your pack feels that you are meant to be with them, then that is what will happen.”

After finding presents for everyone, my mother made us go shopping for more new clothes, insisting that I actually buy some, “Half of these stores don’t sell my size, and the ones that do are for middle aged women!”

“Will you just look and see? It doesn’t even have to be anything extremely fancy, just a nice dress, Akira.” I could tell that my mother was getting frustrated with my attitude. I sighed and nodded, complying with her. I knew I was being a brat today and I think it was more of the fact that I was tired and wanted to rest. While in the store, I came across a simple black wrap dress, nothing fancy. It had long sleeves to hide the ugly bruise that was still on my arm and I knew I had some flats to go with it, “Mama, how about this?”

“Oh that would look nice on you.” She smiled, “We just need some accessories to match.”

“Oh, ma,” I felt myself about to whine and soon tampered it down, “You don’t have to do that, I feel bad that you’re buying all of this.”

My mother tutted at me, “Nonsense, you need a first dinner dress, besides, it’s very modest, which means it’s not—oh look, there’s Namjoon!” My head whipped towards another section of the store just as Namjoon’s did, probably hearing his name. He wasn’t alone; I could see two others with him, all staring at us. The smirk on Namjoon’s face was barely noticeable as he started making his way over to us. Why did I feel so nervous?

“Good afternoon Akira. Naomi, Mrs. Baptiste, how are you?” His voice was deep, deeper than I remembered. I nearly fell back into my mother as I said hello back.

“Good afternoon, Namjoon. And who are your friends?” My mother was smiling from ear to ear, you’d think she was the one getting courted.

“These are my pack mates, this is Hoseok,” he pointed to a man similar in height with a slender build, hair long enough to touch the back of his neck and just as black as the sweater he was wearing. He was tall but not overly tall like Namjoon and had a heart shaped smile when he introduced himself to me, “Finally nice to meet you, Akira. And please, everyone calls me Hobi.” His eyes were suddenly a blown out crystal blue, obviously a beta. He reached for my free hand, the icy blue of his eyes relaxed into a soft dark brown color then, while my other hand clenched hard around the dress I found.

“Would you prefer I call you Hobi?” The slight growl I heard from him shocked me. Namjoon smiled, trying to mask his laugh. Hoseok seemed to like that I called him that so I guess I will. Faintly he smelled sweet like spied lemonade, a bergamot and mahogany scent that seemed to settle me. Reminded me of when grandmother would eat gingersnaps and drink lemonade with me on her porch.

Namjoon continued, “And this Taehyung,” The next man I met was nearly the same height as Namjoon, with black curly hair that covered his eyes, one hazel brown eye, the other green from what I could see. His sharp jawline complimented his boxy smile and he was just as muscular as Namjoon. He held out his hand, the body movement making his long dangling earring swing from his right earlobe, “Nice to finally meet you, Akira, hyung told me so many wonderful things.” His smirk made me nervous. I shook his hand, watching his eyes shimmer a vibrant red before settling once again.

“Nice to meet you, Taehyung.” I replied softly. His smile widened like if he were the human version of a puppy and then he stepped to the side, back in toe with Hobi.

“So you’re my sister’s other mates” Naomi smiled, nudging my shoulder some. I felt the heat rise to my face as my eyes widened and I looked down at the floor, a little embarrassed, “Forgive her, she’s naturally shy.”

“Naomi!” I groaned internally, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Naomi, stop teasing your sister; Akira, why don’t you go with the guys, hm?” My eyes widened as I turned to face my mother, “Go on! Get to know each other better!” She had the biggest smile on her face from ear to ear. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind keeping you company.”

“Maaaa!” I covered my face just as Namjoon chuckled while Taehyung and Hobi snickered. My mother practically snatched the dress out of my hands and pushed me into Namjoon’s chest. His hands caught my arms and instantly, I winced slightly and unfortunately he noticed. Sighing, I glanced at my mother and Naomi before following in Namjoon’s direction. “W-What brings you to the mall today?”

“Well, actually, we were shopping for you.” Taehyung answered honestly. You nearly tumbled into him as you stopped abruptly, “And before you say anything, it’s a part of the courting season.” He smiled wickedly, like he knew he had me cornered.

“Because rejecting a gift is like rejecting your alpha.” I mumbled, somehow remembering that rule out of all the others. “Just please, I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Well we’ve already finished shopping for everyone, love. Now we’re just loitering.” Taehyung continued, his obvious pet name not missing my ears. By everyone, I’m assuming the others have gifts for me too.

“Does this mean that all of you will be at the dinner?” I kept my eyes to the tiled floor of the mall as we walked, a leisurely pace set for us as we had nowhere else to be.

“Yes, all of us will be in attendance, Princess. We’re excited to be able to talk more with you, it seems like our leader has been hogging you.” Hobi joked, making Namjoon playfully roll his eyes. I don't know what came over me but I giggled—I actually freaking giggled, I never giggled a day in my life! They all stopped, their eyes shimmering various shades of red and blue as their smiles widened. I gawked, afraid I might’ve done something wrong. Namjoon pressed a hand to my non-bruised arm, squeezing lightly, assuringly, “You have the most adorable laugh.”

I snorted, “I do not!”

“You actually do,” Hobi countered, “it’s bubbly and airy, like champagne.” He winked, sending my wrecked nerves into overdrive.

“Let’s stop teasing, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” Namjoon mocked, clearly in a teasing tone.

“It’s not that, I’m just…” I sighed, fixing my purse, “I’m not used to all the attention. I just assumed this would never happen to me, it’s a little…” I trailed off, thinking of the right word to express it.

“Overwhelming?” Namjoon tilted his head, trying to look me in the eyes. I nodded, clearly feeling that feeling now. Namjoon reached out and lifted my chin with his other hand. “It can be when you’re suddenly the center of attention.” I bit my bottom lip, nodding in agreement.

“Well you better get used to it Princess because you have four other wolves dying for your attention.” I heard Hobi say, watching his smirking gaze look past me. I slowly turned my head, seeing four other men—at least one I have met before—with bags in their hands, all smiling and waving at us. My god, were they all supposed to be this beautiful?

“We can practically hear that beautiful heart of yours going crazy.” Namjoon whispered to me, making me gasp in surprise at how close he was, “Just relax, baby. We’re just as normal as any other pack.” I felt my body sway, even with his hand still holding my arm. Taking a deep breath, I follow him, Hobi and Taehyung over to the rest of the men, introducing myself to everyone and saying hello to Jin once again.

“Hyung told me you were beautiful but he never said you were this beautiful, wow.” The one to speak was Jimin, with his icy blues flickering brighter before flaming out to a nice rich brown color. He looked unreal, almost angelic. With his sculpted jawline and pouty lips. His average height and build, only slightly muscular, and his jet black hair that reached the base of his neck. I felt like I’d turn to stone if I stared any longer. “Very happy I left the den today.” He laughed.

“Hyung? What does that mean?” I felt my head tilt, no doubt a curious look on my face. Their smiles never faltered, though I wish I knew what they were thinking about.

“In Korean culture, hyung means older brother. It’s a sign of respect to use honorifics when addressing someone.” Namjoon explained. I bit my lip, already feeling nervous about my second question,

“You’re gonna kick me for this but…?” I trailed off, which Namjoon figured out almost instantly, chuckling some as he shook his head,

“It’s okay, beautiful. Honorifics are titles used when addressing someone older or higher in status. I’m the leader of our pack and older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. But I’m younger than Jin, Hobi and Yoongi. Leader or not, I show them respect, even though at this point in our relationship, we’ve sort of dropped honorifics.”

“So wait, who’s the oldest?” I asked, slightly confused.

“I am.” Jin raised his hand slightly, “Then it’s Yoongi and Hobi, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Jungkook.” After learning everyone’s age, I realized I was the youngest among them, “JK finally got his wish, he’s not the youngest anymore.” Jin laughed, the sound squeaky like windshield wipers. His laugh actually made me smile.

“And, forgive me, I’m still pretty new here, I think I’ve met everyone except you two,” I spoke softly, pointing towards Jungkook and Yoongi, “Which one is which?”

“I’m Yoongi.” His deep voice nearly made me froze as he spoke, reaching to grab my hand. Like Jimin and I, he was of average height, but with a slightly buff chest and arms. His skin was fairer than everyone else, even with his tan, making his long black hair stand out. And stretching along one of his eyes that seemed to shimmer a bright deep red the most was a long scar stretching from above his brow to the top of his cheek. By far, he felt the most intimidating? “That’s Jungkook. Nice to meet you, Akira.”

“H-Hi.” I stuttered before turning to the last member of the pack who was just as tall as Jin and Namjoon, with an even muscular—if not more—build. He too had long black hair reaching past his neck, with a lip and brow piercing and an entire sleeve tattoo. You would think out of all of them, he’d be the most intimidating one but when he smiles, it’s like he’s a human bunny. A fully grown puppy. He didn’t shake my hand, he fully hugged me, making me freeze, “Oh!”

“Jungkook—.” Namjoon started to warn him but I slowly started to relax, finding my hands slowly reaching to rest on his shoulder blades.

“She smells like chocolate chip cookies, hyung!” Jungkook giggled excitedly, pulling back to look at my overwhelmed face. His red eyes dimmed back to a dark, almost black color. “I like her!”

“I swear this kid has no filter.” Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temples. I giggled again and that seemed to make everyone growl. I’m starting to see that when they do, it’s a good thing, so I relax some more, “Anyway, Akira did you come alone?”

“N-No. I came with my mother and sister, we were getting things for the first dinner.” I replied softly. “It was a little overwhelming, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“I’m sure whatever you picked out, our mothers will love them.” Hobi answered.

“Wait, all of your familial packs are ran by women??” Now I was truly nervous, women are way harder to impress, especially mothers!

“Well everyone’s except Jimin and Jin. Their fathers are the leaders, but I promise you have nothing to worry about. Our parents are actually really excited to meet you.” Taehyung shrugged, trying to make me feel at ease. I nodded, still nervous and worried, but not as much as before.

“We were actually about to meet up for lunch, would you like to join us?” Jin asked me. Everyone turned to me, waiting for my response. When I wasn’t looking at them, I was noticing the onlookers watching the eight of us.

“Um, ok, sure.” I nodded, clutching my purse strap once again. I felt Namjoon slip his fingers on the small of my back as we started heading towards the entrance of the mall, coming up on the store my mother, sister, and I were just recently in, “Oh, uh, can you give me a moment?” I went back inside the store, searching for my mother and sister. When I found them by the home goods section, I told them that I would be heading out to lunch with the pack.

“Ok but be home by dinner, we still have a few things to go over with you both.” I nodded, saying goodbye before heading back out the store. We left the mall, heading towards a large black SUV in the parking lot. I’ve never felt this comfortable around people, especially strangers, but it seemed the more I spent with them, the more at ease I started to feel. Maybe this was good for me.

“You know you should really consider the heels.”

Startled, I turned around to see Naomi standing in the doorway of my bedroom. By the end of the week, the family dinner had snuck up on me so quickly, I hadn’t realized how nervous I started to be. The whole time I had been fiddling with my hair, she snuck up on me. “I can barely walk in heels, I don’t usually have to wear any.”

“Still, this wrap dress would look good with some. Maybe grandmother has a pair your size?” I shrugged, nodding as I picked out my curls. It took two hours to put perm rods in my hair; didn’t help that my hair was as long and thick as it was but we made it work. I didn’t use any makeup as I didn’t have any besides lipgloss, I never went anywhere that there was an occasion for it. After fixing my hair and changing my shoes, thanks to my grandmother who just somehow magically had some (yeah they planned it), I left home with the rest of my immediate family and headed to dinner. Being that there’s so many of us, my parents had to rent out a banquet hall for all nine families to attend. I was just happy everything was catered and I didn’t have to cook anything.

When we arrived, I noticed Jackson and Yoongi outside, most likely waiting for Naomi and I. Though I had only met Yoongi last weekend, we managed to talk the most out of everyone. I guess whatever job he had, he had the most flexible hours, but he managed to text me the most. We even got comfortable talking on the phone, sometimes ranging from morning to when I'd eventually fall asleep. As soon as we parked, everyone got out of their cars. I quickly grabbed the gift bags before getting out, making sure everything was right. We started making our way to the entrance and Yoongi smiled, his cheeks all plump, teeth gummy and wide. I gave him back an even smaller smile, my nerves getting the best of me. “You look beautiful, Akira. Even more beautiful than the last we’ve met.”

“Yoongi please.” If I could blush, I’d be as red as a tomato right now. Laughing, he held out his arm for me to take, which I was grateful for as walking in heels of any kind wasn’t second nature to me. “I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” I paused; I had this overwhelming feeling of nausea settle deep within my stomach. I was scared. Terrified. What if the heads of their families didn’t like me? What if I embarrassed myself? My family? What if I embarrass the guys?

“Akira? Jagiya, are you alright?” Both Yoongi and I turned to the entrance of the hall, Taehyung came rushing over. I felt Yoongi’s grip tighten on my hip as I stumbled, the nausea hitting me once again. “Yoongi-hyung, what’s happening?”

“She’s nervous, Taehyungie. She needs to rest.” I turned towards Yoongi, shaking my head slightly,

“No, I can do this, I can get through it, I’m just really nervous.” I just really don’t wanna mess this up. I kept telling myself that, but really, I couldn’t make it two steps before pushing the gifts in Yoongi and Taehyung’s arms and running to the nearest bathroom, heels nearly tripping me up as I struggled to open the door. I ran to the first stall and threw everything up. I could feel my stomach tighten at every hurl, and the burning in the back of my throat and eyes grew worse. When I finished, I flushed away everything and went to the sinks. I rinsed out my mouth, washed my hands and wet my face. “I can do this. I can do this, it’s just dinner.” I whispered to myself.

After composing myself, making sure my dress or hair wasn’t out of place, I headed back to the door to leave. It felt like I ran into a brick wall the minute I stumbled into a hard body. Strong hands stopped me from falling and instantly, the deja vu engulfed me. I looked up just in time to see Namjoon staring down at me. My bottom lip trembled as I fixed my mouth to apologize but he spoke first, “Beautiful, I felt your distress, are you okay? We were worried.” My eyes quickly caught the faces of all seven men standing outside the bathroom, each one looking incredibly worried. “Are you feeling sick?”

“A little but,” realizing how close we stood, I pushed on his chest some, but he wouldn’t budge, “it’s just nerves, Namjoon, I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Say the word. We can leave right now.” Jimin proposed the idea and instantly, everyone agreed. I shook my head, grabbing onto Namjoon’s forearm for balance, “I am fine. You’re gonna make everyone worried about all of you coming out here like this—.”

“We don’t care about everyone else, we care about you.” Jungkook interrupted, making me pause. “Our families would understand, if something is wrong with our mate, they would understand.” I could tell he was feeling anxious, they all were, about me getting sick. I looked up at Namjoon and squeezed his arm. He nodded back, letting me go, as if he knew that I needed to reassure Jungkook that I was fine. I moved away, taking a few steps towards Jungkook, who instantly had his hands out for me.

“I’m okay, Jungkook. I promise.” I squeezed his wrist, then looked around at the group, letting them know I was fine, “When I get nervous, I get a little nauseated. This is a huge night for everyone and I guess…I guess I was scared of embarrassing you…” My eyes found the carpeted floor more appealing as awkward tension filled my body. Jungkook’s fingers rubbed the small of my back. He then used his other hand to raise my chin, making my head tilt slightly so that we were eye to eye,

“You could never embarrass us. You’re perfect, Akira.” I closed my eyes, shocked at the feel of his lips kissing my cheek. I bowed my head slightly, feeling his chin rest on top of my head. Why is my heart fluttering like this?

“They’re waiting, shall we go, love?” Hobi questioned, waiting for me to give the go ahead, no one else. I nodded, pulling away from Jungkook slightly,

“Let’s do this.”