#i hope you like it and that it was worth the wait!!

[artist-issues]

Hi.

Jasmine - Went beyond the idea of “consent” to say what she really wanted was “a real friend” and “love” if married. Once she got those things, even when they were falsely found in Prince Ali, no more “boldly sneaking out for independence” for her.

Rapunzel - Wanted to go see the world and experience things for herself but discovered the best experience and dream was love, from a man, who she was willing to give “experiencing things” up for the sake of (when Mother Gothel stabbed him and she promised not to escape again if she could heal him.)

Snow White - Absolutely literally 100% “waiting for a man.” Her song is called “Someday My Prince Will Come.” Her prayer is for Grumpy, a man, to like her. She’s happiest when she’s showing love to the male characters around her. And that kind of love is what inspires and transforms them, to be less self-centered.

Mulan - Wanted to have a safe father and prove she was worthwhile—which she was. Long before she ever went off to war, she had her father’s love and esteem. “The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter.” She never needed to go to war to prove that. She never needed to prove she was as good as a man to do that, or better than a man, to do that. She had it all along.

Aurora - Not forced. Protected. By superpowered women who gave up their power, dignity, and identities just to keep her safe. And when she found out she couldn’t have the man she was in love with, she was heartbroken, but did not rebel against authority—because she’s the kind of precious woman who respects others and is worth protecting.

Cinderella - The Fairy Godmother does not “empower” Cinderella so that Cinderella can “reach her goals.” The Fairy Godmother gives Cinderella her “goals.” Literally. And she does it as a direct result of Cinderella willingly waiting for help. Not help necessarily from a Prince, but help from Something outside of herself. Fate, destiny, (in the original fairy tale it’s God) to “make her dreams come true.” And then after she meets the Prince? She certainly is “waiting” for him. She’s not sneaking out of the house by her wit and moxy to wave her slipper in front of his face and lecture him about how he can’t recognize her if she’s not in a ball gown. It’s her faith that saves her. And faith is dependent on something outside her own abilities.

Pocahontas - Wants to do the right thing, her “destined path,” instead of the smoothest, easiest thing, which is what everyone in her tribe sees as the highest good. And when hate is introduced, she combats it with love—not by “befriending” John Smith, but by giving her heart to John Smith, despite the fact that he can be a prejudiced blowhard. She loves him anyway. And that love allows her to see him as human, when everyone else sees him as less-than human. Same thing, with him to her. Without him in her life helping her to put belief into action, Pocahontas would have had no ability to convince anyone not to go to war.

Tiana - Why is everyone so obsessed with who-saves-who? Tiana worked to be an independent restaurant owner and that got her nothing, and if it had gotten her anything she straight-up says later in the movie that her dream (independence and ownership) would have been incomplete. Dissatisfying. Without who? Without a man. Without Naveen. Because love is worth more than gain, status, or validation—and she was never going to get love, gain, or validation without the help of a Higher Power. Her “the only way I’m going to get what I want is through my own hard work” philosophy was wrong, the whole movie worked hard to prove it wrong.

Belle - Belle’s “willingness to see past the exterior” did not save Prince Adam. Her showing him what it looks like to love someone self-sacrificially—meaning, you give up your own independence and your own dreams, for someone you love (her father)—is what gave him hope, and that hope led to him doing the same for her. Sacrificing his own interests for her, which is love, which is what broke the curse. Their love for each other broke the curse, it was not “her-saving-him.” And his name’s not Prince Adam, get over it, it’s the Beast.

Ariel - Ariel did not want to be human before she met Eric. She wanted to be part of the human world and understand it, and sure, she thought having feet and living in a world where she wasn’t told what to do all the time would be pretty cool—but “want,” as in, “give up anything for it, ready to go right now,” NO. She markedly did not want to leave her family and give up everything. Not until she had confirmation that she was right—that humans are not barbarians, and can be wonderful—and ERIC is that confirmation, for her. Eric is the inciting incident. Eric is the reason, the big “WHY” behind Ariel leaving the sea. She did give up everything for him. That’s the movie. There’s a shift in her motivations in the movie, and it happens when she sees that A) Eric is a dreamer like her, B) Eric is ridiculed for the way he sees the world like her, but he keeps believing anyway, and C) Eric risks his life to save other creatures instead of being a “spineless savage harpooning fish-eating barbarian.” Ariel did not want independence. She didn’t sign away her life and leave her family so she could dance around exploring the surface alone and independent. She did it so that she could be with someone. Who? Oh. A man. For love. And he absolutely does save her.

Merida - Merida’s movie is not about romance. The topic of “Arranged marriage” is only in the movie at all as a mini object lesson for “be brave enough to let a child decide what they’ll do with all you’ve taught them, instead of trying to force them out of a fear that they’ll make the wrong decision.” It’s really not making a statement about marriage at all. That’s just a low-hanging “the audience can understand Merida’s misgivings” fruit they grabbed.

Again—why are you all so obsessed with who-saves-who?

If you do the saving, congratulations, you demonstrated that you’re willing to sacrifice yourself, the hardest thing to sacrifice, for the sake of another. If you get saved, CONGRATULATIONS, you’re loved enough to be treated as worth such a sacrifice. BOTH THOSE THINGS ARE AWESOME. The worst thing to be is someone who 1) acts on their own self-interest (oh, like if your highest dream is to be “independent”) or 2) is completely unloved by anyone, and if you were endangered, nobody would even notice. Nobody would even want to demonstrate how much you mean to them by trying to save you.

Those are the worst things you could be. Why are you all so eager for your women characters to be those horrible loveless things? OR your men??

Also waiting?? Waiting to be saved? Have you ever lived any life, ever? Have you ever been in a circumstance you can’t change—yes you have, because you’re a human being who is not all-powerful. Don’t you know how incredible being able to wait for someone else to help you is? Do you know what the alternative is? Living in denial because you arrogantly believe that you have all the power to not only know what the exact right thing to do is to change your circumstance, but if you could just get it right, everything would change. OR. The other denial? Giving up. Letting your circumstances change you. My family hates me, so I’ll hate them back. I can’t get away so I might as well die. Those alternatives are the natural, easy, response we sink right into.

But waiting in hopeful expectation? Waiting because you trust someone else? Not letting your emotions be yanked up and down and all around by the shallow people and hard circumstances around you? That is hard to do.

These characters who wait on saviors and trust in love are so much stronger than the strong independent nothings you’re imagining.

Sincerely,

A woman who is waiting on The Man to come back and save her.

#StickIt

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: Smells Good

Masterlist: Here

CW: pregnancy stuff/symptoms mentioned

A/N: I felt like we needed a little bit of semi fluffiness between these two so hope y’all enjoy✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera

Summary: You have a new craving that leads to you being the one that texts Harry at one in the morning✨

Harry is nervous he hasn’t seen you in a week and now he’s sitting in the waiting room of Dr. Andrews’s office waiting for your appointment but there’s just one thing that’s missing, you. He knows better than to text you to ask where you’re at or if you’re going to be running late because according to what you’ve told him you don’t run late you just sometimes have to rush. He looks at the watch on his wrist and notices that there’s about ten minutes until your appointment time so he just reaches for the juice he got from a place near his house, trying not to think about the last time he was in this office. Thankfully the waiting room isn’t very crowded, he does notice a very pregnant woman sitting near the back of the room and he can’t help but want to smile when he watches her eyes close and her head rest on the shoulder of the person sitting next to her. As he takes another sip of his juice Harry finds himself wondering if he will ever get a moment like that with you, if you’ll ever see him as a someone that you feel comfortable enough with that resting your head on his shoulder or maybe even reaching for his hand when you just need to feel grounded would be acceptable.

“Oh thank god you’re still out here.” Harry nearly chokes on the juice in his mouth as you suddenly appear next to him, out of breath and of course with the strap to your giant unorganized purse draped over your shoulder. “I was afraid they might’ve already called you back there and I’d have to go knocking on doors to find you.” You explain as you practically fall into the empty seat next to him, all while he just stares at you with wide eyes and the straw to his juice in his mouth.

“Uh no-no they haven’t called for us yet.” He stutters after he swallows the sip he was in the middle of when you appeared out of thin air. You look at him with a quirked brow as he clears his throat. “I also don’t think they’d uhm make you knock on doors I think they’d just show you which room I was in.” He doesn’t say it as a way to correct you he says it more so to help calm your nerves, or at least that’s how he hopes it comes across because he really doesn’t want to start an argument with you five seconds after seeing you for the first time in a week.

“I smell apples.” You look around the room as the words leave your mouth, deciding to ignore Harry’s comment because you know he’s right but you don’t necessarily want to tell him that. Harry raises an eyebrow as he watches you hunt for the source of the smell. “And I think-oh is that pineapple? Do you smell that?” You ask as you look at him and he instantly looks down to the juice in his hands.

“Uh no I can’t smell that. But my juice-”

“Where did you get that?” Harry is taken aback by how quickly your words fall out of your mouth as you cut him off as your eyes become glued to the plastic cup in his hand.

“Oh uhm -”

“Styles?” Both you and Harry turn your heads towards the doorway a nurse is standing in with a smile on her face and a clipboard in her hands. “We’re ready for you.” She explains making Harry stand up and before he can think twice about it he’s offering you his free hand to help you up and while normally you’d make a small scene about not taking it you can’t be bothered because you’re still focusing on the juice in his other hand.

“Thank you.” You mumble once you’re up out of the chair and Harry just gives you a tight lipped smile as a response, still not fully convinced he’s not dreaming because this is only the third time you’ve allowed him to actually touch you since the night you two met.

“Dr. Andrews will be right in.” You just smile as the nurse shows the two of you to the exam room you’ll be in before closing the door. You rub your lips together as you place your bag in one of the chairs on the wall while Harry stands there not sure where he should sit, in the empty chair next to your bag or the chair next to the exam table where you’ll be at for the majority of the visit.

“I’m sorry by the way.” Your voice is soft and quiet as you take a step towards the exam table. Harry has to take a moment to think about all the possible reasons you could be apologizing to him but lucky for him you decide to explain yourself. “I shouldn’t have asked if you really wanted to be a dad because I know you do. I know you want to be in their lives and I’m sorry I upset you with that question it wasn’t-”

“You don’t have to apologize. You had every reason to ask me that and I’m sorry for how I handled it but you’re right.” He doesn’t have to look at you to know you have a small smile on your face at his admission of you being right, even if you don’t know what he’s admitting you’re right about you still just enjoy how the phrase sounds coming from him. “I do want to be their dad and be in their lives and that means I’ll be in yours as well.” You just nod as you try to get comfortable on the table and Harry can’t help the way his eyes travel from your face down to your bump that seems to be much more prominent today than it was the last time he saw you.

“That’s true. We are sort of stuck with each other.” You agree as Harry leans against the counter that has a little sink attached to it, your eyes automatically finding the plastic cup in his hand as he brings the straw up to his lips for a quick sip. “Did you make that?” Harry quirks a brow as he looks at you and then to the cup in his hand and then back at you and he swears he catches you licking your lips as you stare at the green liquid in his cup.

“The juice? No I got it from this little place near my-”

“It smells good.”

“Uh do you-you want to try it?”

“What’s in it?” You don’t know why you ask because he could say it’s made of dirt and salty lawn clippings and you’d still want to try it because the smell has your mouth watering, your appetite hasn’t been that great recently but something about the oddly colored juice in Harry’s hand has you suddenly craving something you’ve never had before.

“Green apples some spinach and some pineapple and I think-” You just begin nodding and reach a hand out in the middle of him listing what’s in the juice and without hesitation he hands you the cup making him chuckle when you instantly take a sip of it and let out a sigh and close your eyes as you take another sip.

“Is that cucumber?” Harry just nods as he runs a hand through his hair while you slowly swing your feet back and forth as they hang off the end of the exam table all while sucking down a few more sips of his juice and for a moment a comfortable silence takes over the room.

“I understand why you can’t forgive me yet for what I did.” You feel your heart do a little jump in your chest as Harry’s voice breaks the silence a few minutes later. “I know you don’t trust that I’ll stick around and I can’t say anything that will change how you feel so I just hope you’ll let me show you how much I really do want to be apart of this whole thing.” Harry is looking at his feet when you look over at him, knowing that if he said all that while looking at you he would probably be an emotional mess by the end of it and that’s not exactly what he wants while in an exam room waiting to see how his twins are doing.

“Thank-oh no.” Harry’s head snaps up at the sound of you making a soft huff but before he can ask what’s wrong you’re holding the now empty cup in your hands and looking at it with a pout. “I drank it all.” Your voice cracks a bit as you look at the empty cup and he feels his chest tighten as your eyes get glossy and your bottom lip starts to tremble and for a moment Harry refuses to believe you’re actually getting this upset over finishing off his juice. But then he realizes as you take the lid off and tip the cup back so you can try to get the last few drops at the bottom you’re not upset over the fact it was his, you’re just upset that it’s gone.

“It’s okay.” He tries his best to sound reassuring but he is also a tiny bit worried he’s just going to upset you as he takes a few steps towards you so he can grab the empty cup from out of your hands. “I’m glad you liked it.” You watch with sad eyes as he tosses the cup and lid into the trash.

“I’m so going to need more-” You turn your head as a knock interrupts you mid sentence, Harry quickly takes the sear near the exam table just as the door opens.

“Hello!” You smile as Dr. Andrews walks into the room with his clipboard in his hands and a bright smile on his face. “Mr. Styles it’s great to see you again how have you been?” Harry just offers him a casual shrug making the him laugh.

“I’ve been okay uh how about yourself?” You have to bite your lip to stop the giggles from escaping as you watch and listen to Harry struggle with small talk with the man that will eventually be delivering your twins.

“Oh I’ve been great now let’s ask the woman in charge how she’s doing huh? How’s the appetite and nausea? Better or the same since last week?” Harry’s eyes narrow as Dr. Andrews places his clipboard on the counter before turning and looking at you.

“Actually my appetite has come back a little bit and so far this week no nausea.” You answer as you feel Harry’s eyes glaring at you, so you just turn your head to look at him because you want to attempt to involve him in things but before you can open your mouth to explain yourself he is looking at Dr. Andrews and asking for himself.

“Last week? Did something happen? She didn’t have a scheduled appointment for last week.” You can tell he’s trying to hide his concern as he asks the doctor who is walking towards you so he can sit in the round wheeled stool that’s near the end of the table where your legs are hanging off.

“Nothing to worry about just some nausea that was making it a little hard to keep things down so she came in for a quick check up.” Dr. Andrews gives him a quick explanation making Harry just nod as he watches him look at you with a reassuring smile. “So it looks like you’ve lost a little weight since your last appointment but again that’s normal and since your appetite is coming back I’m not too concerned about it. Now is there anything new I should know about? Any pain or discomfort?” Harry’s attention moves from the doctor to you as you place your hands in your lap and mess with the ring you have on your index finger.

“I feel like my ankles are already starting to swell is that normal?”

“Yes that’s normal you can expect swelling in your feet and hands as well as some around your belly. Any breast tenderness or leg cramps?”

“Leg cramps sometimes but mainly when I’m laying down at the end of the day and uhm no-no breast tenderness.” You feel silly for being a little embarrassed at talking about if your breasts are tender or not while Harry is sitting in a chair next to you, but you can’t help it and when you subtly glance over at him and see his cheeks are slightly flushed you know he feels a bit awkward as well.

“I can give you some tips for how to help with the leg cramps but what about the fatigue? Is it the same or have you gotten some energy back?”

“I’ve gotten a little energy back.” Dr. Andrews gives you a little smile at this bit of information as he wheels himself around the table so he can grab some gloves and for some reason that makes you remember your last scheduled exam that Harry left in the middle of making him miss something important. “Uhm I was wondering if we could listen to the heartbeats today?”

“Of course yes we are going to check their heartbeats and do some bloodwork and we will check to see how they are doing with an ultrasound so you’ll get to see them today while we look over a few things but we will discuss all of that when we get to it.” Harry is just nervously chewing on his bottom lip as Dr. Andrews discusses everything that will happen during today’s appointment.

You scoot further back on the table and try to get comfortable as Dr. Andrews gets everything ready so the two of you can hear the twins heartbeats. Harry runs a hand through his hair and adjusts how he’s sitting in the chair, trying his best to cover up his anxiousness but clearly not doing a good job because just as you get comfortable and roll your shirt up so the doctor can use his Doppler monitor you look over at him and raise an eyebrow.

“You okay?” You whisper making Dr. Andrews lightly chuckle as he turns the machine on and wheels himself over to you on the opposite side of the exam table that Harry is sat on.

“Oh yeah-yeah I’m fine.” He knows that you know he’s lying but neither of you can say anything else because soon the room is full of a static like sound making Harry turn and look at the little device in the doctor’s hands that is pressed against your bump.

Then the static turned into the soft but steady sound of what you would describe as similar to a horse galloping down a street, letting you know Dr. Andrews had found a heartbeat making you feel a lump of emotions form in your throat. When you look over at Harry you can tell he is struggling to keep his emotions in check as his eyes go a bit glossy and his lips are rubbing together and you have to remind yourself that this is his first time hearing this sound.

So you do something for him that you wish someone was there to do for you when you first heard it, you reach your arm out and open your hand for him to take and without a word Harry grabs your hand slipping his fingers between the gaps of yours letting you give his hand a comforting squeeze. You smile as Harry returns your gesture with a soft squeeze of your hand while the two of you sit there and listen to your babies’ heartbeats. And for a moment you don’t feel like two people who oftentimes can barely hold a conversation without it turning into an argument, you almost feel like a normal couple.

You let out a groan as you lay in bed with Paris curled up in a peaceful ball near your feet. It’s been two days since your appointment, and it’s been two days that you’ve been craving the green juice Harry ended up letting you have before the exam started. While you’re used to having cravings, such as the jam and toast that you still have for breakfast most mornings but normally you can satiate your cravings rather quickly but this time you can’t because Harry never got to tell you where he got the juice or even finish telling you what was in it. But the main issue about the juice you’re craving so badly that your mouth is watering and you almost feel as if you could cry because it’s all you can think about, is that your fridge is pretty much empty minus some raspberry jam and milk.

“I could just find the place he got it from.” You mumble to yourself as you sit up and turn your bedside lamp on before you reach for your phone that’s plugged into the charger on your nightstand. “He said he got it from a place near his house.” You hold your phone in your hands and let out a huff as you just stare at the screen. “Which would be fine if I knew where he lived.” You bite your lip and debate on if you should text him and just ask him for the juice place seeing as he knows you liked it you asking him about it wouldn’t seem so odd.

“One text won’t be too bad.”

Harry has to laugh at the situation he’s found himself in as the elevator door opens to reveal your floor number because for once he’s not showing up here completely uninvited. While you didn’t exactly tell him not to come you also didn’t tell him it was okay for him to come over, but he can’t just let you suffer with not being able satiate your craving when he has all the ingredients to make it. So as he walks down your hallway he adjusts the bag on his shoulder that has all the produce in it and silently hopes you’re still awake so he’s not disturbing you when he knocks on your door.

“Harry?” Your voice is full of surprise as you open the door and see him standing there in a pair of black sweatpants and a hoodie with a bag over his shoulder. “What-what are you doing here?” You ask even though you know he said he’d be there in ten you didn’t actually expect him to show up at your door, he just slides the bag off his shoulder so he can reach out and hand it to you.

“It has all the things you need for your uhm juice.” He watches the way your face lights up as you take the bag from him and look inside of it. “You have a blender and a strainer right?” He asks to confirm that you’ll even be able to make the juice and when you just nod he smiles as he brings a hand up and rubs at the back of his neck.

“So I just put all this in the blender and strain it and that’s it?”

“Uh well you have to add water and cut the fruit up.”

“Okay how much water?”

“Have you ever made a smoothie or anything before?” He asks and when you shake your head no he lets out a sigh as he contemplates just taking the bag from you and making it himself but before he can even suggest it you’re biting your bottom lip and staring at him.

“Do you think or uh would you mind maybe-”

“I can make it for you.” He answers before you can even finish asking your question. The two of you stand there for a few moments just staring at each other before you finally move to the side leaving enough room for him to walk through the door.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” He asks before taking a step because he knows recently you haven’t wanted him to be inside your apartment, preferring him to just stay in the hallway.

“Oh uhm yeah it’s fine.” You answer and truthfully you don’t know if it’s just your overwhelming desire to finally get what you’ve been craving for the last two days or if you really don’t mind that Harry enters your apartment. Harry just nods as he takes the bag from your hands before taking a few steps into your apartment and heading towards the kitchen, he looks around as he crosses your living room and raises a brow as he notices the absence of a certain orange fur ball with a bell on his collar.

“Where’s-”

“Paris is asleep on my bed don’t worry.” You say with a laugh as you follow Harry into the kitchen. He sets the bag on your counter as you go for the cabinet you keep your blender in. Once you have it plugged in you just take a seat at your little table and watch as Harry stumbles his way around your kitchen at one in the morning just to make you a juice that you’ve been craving.

As you sit there while he begins to cut up the fruit from the bag you find yourself wondering if this is something you should get used to or if this is just a one time fluke and the two of you are just having a decent week. When he starts to hum to himself you place a hand on your bump giving it a soothing rub and when he looks over at you with a soft smile you decide that it doesn’t matter if this is a one time thing or the beginning of your new normal. You’ll take it because having Harry in your apartment isn’t that bad especially when it ends with him handing you a glass full of the green liquid you’ve been dreaming about for the last two days.

[gf2bellamy]

enough — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you don't think you're enough for spencer content warnings: mention of working on a case, feelings of insecurity / not feeling good enough, spencer and reader argue , alot of angst ( pretty much all of it) a/n: currently sick in bed :( hope you guys like this <3

You knew Spencer Reid had feelings for you. It wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret. In fact, everyone on the team seemed to know—how could they not?

The way his gaze lingered on you just a fraction longer than anyone else, the way his words stumbled over themselves when you caught him off guard, the subtle softness in his voice when he said your name.

Spencer was careful, meticulous in everything he did, but when it came to you, his emotions were a little too obvious. 

There were the small, thoughtful gestures—the extra cup of coffee waiting on your desk when you’d been up late on a case, or the way he always seemed to know exactly when you needed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Then there were the bigger things, like how he always volunteered to partner with you in the field, or how he fiercely defended your theories in meetings, even when they weren't perfect. 

But maybe the most telling sign of all was the way Spencer looked at you.

Like you were the only thing in the room worth noticing.

It was like he was memorizing every detail of your face, committing you to the library of his mind. And every time he looked at you like that, a warmth bloomed in your chest—a warmth you weren’t quite ready to name, but one that you felt more often than you cared to admit. 

Penelope had asked you multiple times about the situation, her curiosity impossible to suppress. “So, when are you and Boy Genius making it official?” she’d tease, wiggling her eyebrows and leaning across your desk.

Each time, you laughed it off or deflected with a joke. “What are you talking about, Pen? Spencer and I are just friends,” you’d insist, even though the words felt more and more like a lie with every passing day. 

Pretending to be oblivious to Spencer’s feelings had once been easy. A flick of the wrist, a casual smile—it had been enough to convince everyone, including yourself, that you were completely unaware. But lately, it was getting harder.

Much harder. 

Because now, every time you caught him staring at you, every time his fingers brushed yours while passing a file, every time he leaned in just a little too close when he explained something in that excited, rambling way of his, you felt it. That same warmth in your chest, that same ache you’d been trying so hard to ignore. 

The truth was, you weren’t just aware of Spencer’s feelings for you.

You also felt the same way. 

Your fingers tapped absently against your desk, a sound that seemed to echo in the quiet bullpen. Your eyes were unfocused, fixed on nothing in particular, as your thoughts wandered far from the case files scattered in front of you. 

Across from your desk, Spencer was watching you. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in concern as he debated whether or not to say something. 

“Are you okay?” His soft voice cut through the quiet, pulling you back to the present. 

“Huh?” You jumped slightly, your hand pausing mid-tap as your head whipped around to face him. Your wide eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you added quickly, your words rushing out. 

Spencer didn’t look convinced. He leaned forward just a little, resting his elbows on the edge of his desk as his gaze searched yours. “You seemed... distracted,” he said carefully. 

You laughed nervously, waving a hand as if to brush off his concern. “Just zoning out. It’s been a long day.” 

Spencer didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you for a while, his hazel eyes soft but searching, like he could see through the thin veil of your words.

The weight of his gaze made your pulse quicken, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” you blurted suddenly, pushing your chair back. Without waiting for a response, you rushed out of the bullpen, your footsteps echoing down the hallway until you reached the bathroom. 

Inside, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and stepped into the nearest stall, closing the door behind you. Sitting down on the closed toilet lid, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d run away like this. You weren’t proud of it, but sometimes it felt easier to escape than to face the thoughts that clawed their way to the surface when Spencer was near. 

People might call you stupid.

Stupid for ignoring the feelings of someone so gentle and sweet.

Stupid for pretending not to notice how much he cared for you, how much he had done for you.

Stupid for not taking the first step when it was obvious to everyone, including you, that Spencer Reid had feelings for you. 

But it wasn’t just Spencer’s feelings, was it? No, the truth was much harder to ignore now: you had feelings for him, too.

And yet, here you were, hiding in a bathroom stall, running away from everything. 

The reason felt silly—childish, even—but it was there, and it was real.

You were scared.

Scared that if you took that step, if you let yourself fall into the warmth of what Spencer was offering, you’d ruin him.

Spencer, who was so sweet and intelligent, so thoughtful and patient. He was everything good in this world, and you couldn’t help but feel like you’d taint him with your flaws, your insecurities. 

You didn’t think you were enough for him. 

The thought sat heavy in your chest, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it always came back.

Spencer deserved someone extraordinary, someone brilliant and perfect—someone who wasn’t you. 

Before you could stop it, a tear slipped down your cheek. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that you almost didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open. 

A familiar, soft voice called out your name.

You quickly straightened up, dabbing at your cheeks with trembling fingers, but it was no use. The tears had already left their mark. 

You opened the stall door cautiously, revealing Penelope standing there in all her vibrant glory. Her floral skirt swirled around her knees, and her cardigan was adorned with her signature pins and patches.

Her warm, concerned eyes locked onto yours the moment the door swung open. 

“There you are,” she said gently, a small smile playing on her lips as she tilted her head. “Spence sent me to check on you. He’s worried.” 

Of course he did. The thought made your chest tighten. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the obvious evidence of tears. But Penelope wasn’t one to be fooled, especially not by you. 

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Sweetheart, you’re standing in a bathroom stall looking like you just had a tearful heart-to-heart with yourself, so forgive me if I don’t take ‘I’m fine’ at face value.” 

You tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and weak. “It’s just... been a long day.” 

Penelope crossed her arms, giving you that patient, knowing look that only she could manage. “I know there’s more to it than that. Spence wasn’t just worried about you zoning out—he was worried about you. And judging by those red eyes, I’m guessing he’s not wrong for being worried.” 

You sighed, leaning against the stall door for support. “It’s nothing, Pen. Really.” 

Penelope softened, she placed a comforting hand on your arm. “If it’s nothing, why were you crying?” 

For a moment, you considered brushing her off again, but something about her warmth, her openness, made you pause.

Maybe it was because she was Penelope, the team’s heart and soul, or maybe it was because a part of you was tired of holding it all in. 

“It’s... about Spencer,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Penelope’s eyes lit up in understanding, and a soft smile crept across her face. “Oh, honey. Tell me everything.” 

You let out a shaky breath, walking over to the sink and staring at your reflection. The person looking back at you seemed fragile, her emotions etched plainly on her face.

Penelope followed, standing beside you, her vibrant presence grounding you as she waited patiently for you to speak. 

“I have feelings for Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the bathroom’s fluorescent lights. 

Penelope didn’t gasp or exclaim. She simply tilted her head and nodded, her soft smile growing into something more knowing, like she’d been waiting for you to admit it. 

“I figured as much,” she said gently, her tone free of judgment. “But what’s got you hiding out in here instead of doing something about it?” 

You met her eyes in the mirror, hesitating for a moment before answering. “Because I’m scared, Penelope.” Your fingers gripped the edge of the sink tightly. “I mean, he’s Spencer. He’s brilliant and kind. He deserves someone amazing, someone who can keep up with him. I just—I don’t think I’m enough for him.” 

Penelope frowned, her brows knitting together as she turned to face you fully. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. First of all, I am going to stop you right there, missy. You are more than enough for anyone, especially Spencer Reid. Don’t even try to argue with me on that.” 

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a finger to silence you. 

“Second,” she continued, her voice firm but still warm, “have you met Spencer? That man practically worships the ground you walk on. Do you know how rare that is? To have someone like Spencer look at you the way he does? Trust me, sweetie, he doesn’t see anyone else but you.” 

You blinked, Penelope’s words hitting you harder than you expected. “But what if I mess it up? What if I ruin everything?” 

“Sweetheart,” Penelope said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “life is messy. Love is messy. But if you keep letting that fear hold you back, you’re going to miss out on something incredible. Spencer wants you. Not someone perfect, not someone else. You.” 

Her words hung in the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. For a moment, all you could do was stare at her, overwhelmed by her kindness and sincerity. 

“Thank you, Penelope,” you whispered, your voice soft and earnest. 

She gave you a bright, reassuring smile, squeezing your arm gently. “Don’t stay here too long, okay? Boy Genius is worried about you, and you know how he gets when he’s worried.” 

You managed a small smile, nodding as she opened the bathroom door. “I’ll be out soon.” 

“Good,” she said with a wink, stepping out into the hallway. The door swung shut behind her, leaving you alone once again. 

You turned back to the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with the same doubts you’d walked in with. Penelope’s words were honest, comforting, and so full of truth that they made your chest ache. And yet... the doubts didn’t leave. 

They stayed. 

What if Penelope was wrong? What if you tried, and it all came crashing down, leaving your friendship in ruins? 

You pressed your lips together, inhaling a shaky breath. There was a part of you—a small, fragile part—that wanted to believe Penelope.

But the larger, louder part of you couldn’t let go of the fear. 

“Get it together,” you muttered to yourself, gripping the sink tightly. 

You couldn’t stay in this bathroom forever, hiding from the man waiting for you outside.

The man who cared enough to send someone after you when you disappeared.

The man who had always been there, quietly offering you the kind of unconditional support you never thought you deserved. 

And yet, your feet felt like they were cemented to the floor. 

The days that followed felt heavier, even after Penelope’s heartfelt pep talk. Her words lingered in your mind like an echo, but they weren’t enough to silence the whirlwind of emotions.

Everything seemed harder now that you’d acknowledged your feelings—now that you couldn’t hide from the truth. 

Sometimes, it felt like your heart was about to burst with how much love you held for Spencer.

You’d catch yourself staring at him across the bullpen, watching the way his lips moved as he explained something in that fast, excitable way of his, or the way his fingers traced invisible patterns on the edge of a file when he was deep in thought. 

And then there were the moments when you were near him—too near. Your hands would tremble when they brushed his by accident, or your breath would hitch when his cologne lingered in the air between you.

But you didn’t do anything about it. 

You convinced yourself it was for the best, that keeping things the way they were was safer. You couldn’t risk crossing that line and ruining the friendship you’d come to treasure so much. 

Still, there were cracks in your resolve. 

You weren’t sure how long you could keep this up—pretending you didn’t feel what you felt, pretending you didn’t want to close the gap between you and let yourself fall. 

One day, the tension came to a head while you and Spencer were working on the geographic profile to catch an unsub. The bullpen was unusually quiet, the rest of the team out gathering leads.

It was just the two of you, standing side by side in front of the board, the scent of coffee and marker ink filling the air. 

You reached for the same photo pinned to the board—a shot of a potential target area—and your fingers brushed his.

It was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt up your arm, and you immediately pulled back as if burned. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. You avoided his gaze, letting him take the picture as you stepped back. Not just one step—several, putting unnecessary distance between the two of you. 

Spencer hesitated, holding the picture in his hand as his eyes flicked to you. His brows furrowed slightly, concern shadowing his expression as he noticed how much space you’d suddenly created between you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and careful, like he was afraid of startling you. 

Your throat tightened. “I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and unconvincing. 

Spencer wasn’t buying it. He tilted his head, his gaze searching yours in that way that always made you feel like he could see right through you.

“You’ve been... distant,” he said, his tone gentle. “Not just today, but for a while now.” 

You froze, your heartbeat quickening. “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth. 

He stepped closer, closing some of the space you’d put between you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. “If I did, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be around me.” 

Your chest tightened painfully at the vulnerability in his voice. The idea that he thought he had done something wrong, that he might blame himself for the distance you’d created, made your stomach twist with guilt. 

“No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. "It's just work has been getting to me.”

You turned away quickly, pretending to focus on the map pinned to the board. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt Spencer’s eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he finally turned back to his own work. 

He let it go—for now. 

Later that evening, you were back in your hotel room, sprawled on the bed with the TV remote in hand. The case was successfully closed, the unsub in custody, but the team had decided to stay one more night before flying home.

You flipped aimlessly through the channels, barely registering the images flashing on the screen. Nothing held your attention for more than a few seconds, and the quiet hum of the TV did little to drown out your thoughts. 

With a loud yawn, you tossed the remote aside, letting it land on the bed. You leaned back against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.  

Then came a knock at your door. 

Slowly, you got up, smoothing down your clothes as you walked to the door. 

When you opened it, your breath caught. 

Spencer stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression a mix of nervousness and determination. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, his tie loosened just enough to suggest he’d been pacing or thinking too much, as he often did.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of hesitation before he finally spoke. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice gentle but steady. 

“Spencer?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?” 

“I—I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice laced with hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “Can I come in?” 

You stared at him, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the look in his eyes. Finally, you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare yourself for whatever he wanted to talk about.

Turning back around, you walked a few steps toward him, stopping just a short distance away. You were close enough to notice the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension in his posture as he stood there, clearly working through whatever thoughts were racing in his mind. 

You found yourself fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, your fingers twisting and untwisting the fabric as you waited for him to speak.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “And I know I’ve been overthinking it, probably more than I should. But I—I couldn’t keep waiting.” 

Your fingers stilled, your breath catching as his words hung in the air. 

“I’ve noticed you pulling away,” he continued, his brows furrowing slightly. “And I’ve been trying to tell myself that maybe I was imagining it, but... I don’t think I am.” He paused, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure I didn't do something wrong? Because if I did, I’ll fix it—I want to fix it.” 

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, guilt and affection warring within you. “No, Spencer,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He looked relieved for a moment, but the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “Then what is it? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

His honesty was disarming, his vulnerability leaving you with nowhere to hide. You opened your mouth, then closed it again, the words caught in your throat. 

“It’s... complicated,” you finally managed, your voice barely audible. 

Silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy. Spencer stood still, watching you intently, as if trying to piece together a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His gaze flicked to your hands, noticing how they still fidgeted nervously with your clothes. 

And then he spoke. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words falling from his lips so suddenly and so earnestly that they cut through the air like a blade. 

Your hands stilled immediately, your breath hitching as you raised your head to meet his eyes. The room seemed to shrink around you, everything else fading into the background as his words echoed in your ears. 

You hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not so bluntly, with no preamble or hesitation. And now, faced with the weight of his confession, you found yourself frozen, unsure of what to do or say. 

Spencer’s eyes darted nervously, meeting yours and then flicking away before returning.

He was waiting—for your answer, your reaction, anything. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your mind racing too fast to form a coherent response. 

The silence stretched on, and you saw something shift in his expression. Disappointment. 

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice tight, the hurt evident as he took a small step back. “I shouldn’t have—” 

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head, cutting him off mid-sentence. 

Spencer froze, his eyes wide and uncertain as he looked at you. 

“Don’t apologize,” you said softly, your voice trembling but resolute. You took a shaky breath.

You weren’t sure what to say to him, honestly. It was like your heart was trying to escape from your chest, but the words just wouldn’t come out. 

You looked at Spencer, his hair falling into his face just the way it always did when he was anxious or lost in thought. You had this overwhelming urge to reach out, to gently push his hair back behind his ear, but you didn’t.

Instead, you just stood there, staring at him, feeling more unsure than ever. 

"Spence, look, I—" you started, your voice faltering as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

His eyes were fixed on yours, waiting. He was so patient, so willing, and it made your chest tighten even more. You tried again, your words tumbling out as you fought to explain. 

“I didn’t want to mess things up with you. I’ve been scared that if I told you how I feel, it would ruin everything. Because... you deserve someone better than me, Spencer. You deserve someone who can give you the world, who can keep up with you... not someone like me.”

You caught yourself, blinking rapidly as the words tumbled out of you, not sure if you were even making sense anymore.

But it was like you couldn’t stop.

“I’ll ruin you, Spencer. I’ll drag you into my mess, and you’ll wake up one day and realize you could’ve had someone better. Someone who doesn’t second-guess every little thing or put up walls because they’re too scared to let anyone in.”

“That’s not how I see you,” Spencer said, his voice soft as he took a step closer to you. “You’re not a mess. You’re not some burden I’d have to carry. You’re—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, shaking your head as tears pricked at your eyes. “You don’t get it. You think I’m this... this version of me that you’ve built up in your head, but I’m not that person. I’m not perfect. I’m not enough.”

“Stop saying that!” His voice rose slightly, the frustration finally breaking through. You looked at him, startled, as he ran a hand through his hair. “You keep telling me what I should feel, what I deserve, like you get to decide that for me. But you don’t. I know what I want, and it’s you.”

“Spencer—”

“No, let me finish,” he said, stepping closer. “I don’t care about perfect, okay? I don’t care about whatever doubts you have about yourself, because none of that changes the fact that I love you. I love you for you, not some idealized version. And if you think for one second that I’m going to stand here and let you push me away because of some fear that you’re not ‘enough,’ then you don’t know me as well as I thought.”

His words hit you like a wave, but instead of feeling comforted, you felt overwhelmed. The emotions swirling between you both—the love, the fear, the frustration—felt like too much all at once.

“You’re not listening to me,” you said, your voice rising. “You think this is just me being insecure, but it’s not. This is me being realistic. You deserve someone who doesn’t bring you down, someone who doesn’t doubt themselves every time they look in the mirror.”

Spencer’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You’re the one bringing yourself down, not me. You’re the one who thinks you’re not good enough, but that’s not the truth. It’s your fear talking, not reality.”

“And maybe my fear is right,” you shot back, your voice cracking. “Maybe it’s telling me what I already know—that you’re too good for me, and I can’t be what you need.”

He stared at you, his jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling as he took a deep breath. “You think you’re protecting me by pushing me away, but you’re not. You’re just hurting both of us,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like this—like I’m not alone. Like I’m more than just... me. And I’m not going to let you stand there and tell me you’re not enough.”

The room felt suffocating, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

But still, the doubt clung to you, thick and unrelenting. “Spencer, I just... I can’t,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His shoulders slumped slightly, the frustration in his eyes giving way to something softer—something sad. “I don’t know how to convince you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with defeat. “But I can’t force you to believe me.”

For a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“I don’t know what else to say,” he finally murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet hurt that made your chest ache.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You felt paralyzed, the fear and doubt swirling inside you.

Spencer looked back up at you, his hazel eyes searching yours one last time, as if hoping to find something—anything—that might give him a reason to stay.

When he didn’t, a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Goodnight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

And then he turned, walking toward the door with a heaviness in his steps that you’d never seen before.

Your heart twisted as you watched him reach for the handle, every fiber of your being screaming at you to stop him, to say something, to fix this.

But the words refused to come.

Spencer paused for a fraction of a second as he opened the door, his back to you. It felt like time stood still. Then he stepped out, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sound of the latch clicking into place was deafening.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the closed door, your chest tight and your head spinning. The room felt unbearably empty without him.

And yet, you didn’t move. You couldn’t.

Instead, you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears you’d been holding back finally broke free.

You didn’t know what hurt more—the fear that you’d pushed him away for good or the possibility that you’d been wrong about everything.

[natalchartnurtures]

PAC: Channeled Messages From The Person On Your Mind *Singles Edition*

Let's feed our delusions. (jk)

Pile 1: "You make me feel so good, like I'm on cloud nine. You make everything so, sooo worth it. I feel like a winner with you around... and the thing is.. you have no clue lol. I wanna win you over and show you off. You've no idea how you make me feel... you being your hot-ass self sitting there, looking so cute. I keep so much of my feelings to myself, but all I wanna do is overcome this impossible (and seemingly invisible) barrier between us! Ahhhhhh, it drives me nuts on some days, ugh!

You feel like a blessing to me. I didn't know somebody like you could exist?! Ahhhhh. I've been alone all my life, but you make me wanna not be alone anymore... it's not something I expected to feel, I have to be honest lol.

I'm not ready to come toward you right now, though. Trust me, I KNOW I must do something, but my anxiety holds me back... my limiting beliefs hold me, and I have no clue how to overcome them. I wish I could figure it out so I could BE WITH YOU ALREADY!

I'm being patient, though... with myself and with the situation between us. I keep my cards close, so you probably wouldn't even know any of this... sheesh, I don't wanna look like a fool in front of you. I'm scared you'd think less of me—it would KILL me if you did—so I keep you at arm's length.

Your presence TRIGGERS some very intense feelings inside me. I feel so exposed and vulnerable with you around, so overwhelmed, and it's not easy, you know? My heart's been broken before, and I'm afraid of getting it broken again. That's definitely a part of the fear you make me feel. I've had to be on the defense with people, especially from my past... relationships have not been easy, and so I guess I gotta work on that.

Go listen to Taylor Swift's 'Lover' anytime you miss me... that's a song I dedicate to you, sweetie, until I see you next time."

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 2: "GIRL, I have been going THROUGH IT, sheesh... I've been holding on for dear life 'cause lately, it feels like everything is out to get me, uk? One thing goes straight to hell after another, and I've just been so caught up with everything. You know what's been keeping me going, though? You. I've been dreaming about you most nights... I think about you when I can, to help me get through what I need to get through. The thought of you gives me strength, girlie. Every time you cross my mind, I get so weak in the knees! I look forward to every time I get to see you... (even if we live in the same house lmao!)

I feel you all around me all the time—it's lovely. I love how you make me feel... you take away my troubles, even if just for a sec. For that, I am immensely grateful!

You're not in my life right now, though... but I'm PRAYING and WISHING and HOPING that I might have a shot with you. The hope of a possibility of being with you is what makes the hard days sooo much easier. I seriously want a solid relationship with you more than anything else! (If we aren't in one already 👀)

Right now, I'm getting my shit together, and I hope you'll be waiting for me on the other side, just like in my dreams. You give me hope in a hopeless world again. You're such a light to me... you don't even know it.

I'm always watching you, though... even when you don't know—ESPECIALLY when you don't notice! Haha, it's my favorite thing in the world. I think you've got the prettiest voice in the world. Gosh, I just wanna be with you, but BOY, I've got my hands tied up right now. I'm letting go and letting God decide when it's time for us to come together. You make me wanna have faith in something greater than us.

But I assure you, I'm coming for ya once I'm done figuring everything in my life. Oh, and I love you. ✨"

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

Pile 3: "You make me so horny. I can't even sit right when I'm around you. WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS EFFECT ON ME?! (Not that I'm complaining tbh, I love it haha). But seriously, how can someone be so goddamn hot?! How?! Jeez, I LOVE your body! I get so many 18+ thoughts—it's insane. I apologize for being so direct, but it's just what you do to me, sorry not sorry :p

You make me wanna run toward you EVERY TIME I see you! All I wanna do is be all up on you, loving you, kissing you, and hugging you. Man, it's hard to be around you and not be close to you, especially when there's other people around. I LOVE TALKING TO YOU, and I don't ever wanna stop talking to you, ugh.

You make my heart explode! I've never had feelings this deep for anybody in my life (I WISH I was kidding, jeez). You make me wanna act mature and romantic n stuff... 🙃 (Usually, I'm not like this, btw).

I wanna be where you're at, vibrationally speaking, but I've got some things I gotta take care of. I've got some old cycles I've been on—my old bs. I'm working hard on it and releasing it as we speak, and this is helping me come toward you. Might take me a while, though, ngl 👀🙄. But I'll be there before you know it, princess!

I WANT our relationship to begin between the two of us SO BAD, but I can't see how that's gonna happen yet. It feels like it's not the right time yet? Idk... it's really frustrating, though. I'm trying not to do anything stupid to sabotage our new beginning, though. I'm just going with the flow of things and listening to my intuition about our situation. Don't worry!

I see you as my forever, my one and only. I can't explain it, but I just know. You're the one for me, and honestly, it's breaking my heart that I can't actively pursue you right now since it's supposed to be 'divinely guided' 🙄 Like, Universe, could you please hurry up and get me to MY baby, ugh.

You're so beautiful, you're my goddess, my other half. I can't wait to get to you and spoil you and have a PROPER relationship with you. I hate that we can't come together and confess to each other yet... it's maddening. I know we're destined to be, but the way things are going on the surface right now, it might seem as if we're not meant to be... hell, we might not even be talking to each other or you may not even know I exist right now! But as soon as the divine gives me the green light, I'll be coming running toward you to claim you all for myself." ✨

If you'd like to know more about your person's thoughts for you, you can book a reading with me! You can find the details here :]

[brazilian-girl02]

~ Vlogger!Reader and Future yandere!Batfamily Part: 3 ~

📷 You woke up in your apartment for another day, after leaving the bathroom after doing your morning hygiene you went to take care of your pets. a Cockatiel named Jessei, Mini Pig named Bertram, two Bearded Dragons named Ravi and Mrs. Kipling, an African Pygmy Hedgehog named Zuri, and two ferrets named Emma and Luke. They are work but it's worth having this little family;

📷 After a few minutes of taking care of your pets, you quickly made breakfast, got ready and left the house for your college. as you left the house until you arrived at the college campus, you felt watched... but it seemed like there was nothing out of the ordinary;

📷 When we got there, it seemed like the feeling went away, but it was just the beginning;

📷 In your second class, the director called you to his room and when you got there you saw him. your father, Bruce Wayne, with a soft facial expression, very different from the indifference he gave you before. he started talking to you, asking why you didn't tell him you were going so far away, or why you're using your mother's surname... you were in shock the moment you saw him, not knowing how to react;

📷 Bruce somehow managed to release you from your classes today, he took you to his apartment... even though you had never mentioned to him where you lived. when you got there, you were greeted by your brothers and sisters, they were all in your small apartment looking at you with shining eyes;

📷 Soon you were sitting in the middle of Cass and Jason as they all chatted calmly as if this were a normal day. Damian was meeting all your pets and asking you everything about them;

📷 The apartment bell rang, when you got up to open it, Dick was already at the door opening it. it was your GF, worried that you hadn't gone to her to get lunch;

📷 The atmosphere became so tense when GF appeared, but soon they began to introduce themselves and ask questions about her, like a TV family concerned about the first relationship of one of the members of that family;

📷 Soon they took their leave of you and you were left alone with GF. you finally cried, releasing all the feelings you felt, grabbing GF with your lifeline, she ended up staying with you for the rest of the day;

📷 The next day you were woken up by the alarm clock on GF's phone, it seemed like everything that happened yesterday was a nightmare. after getting ready and taking care of the pets, the two of you left for college;

📷 But they didn't let you in, when you asked the secretary why, she said that your father had transferred you to distance learning classes at a college in Gotham and you ran home. When you get there you become two things, a moving truck and Alfred waiting in the car with your bags and your pets duly ready for the trip.

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

That was today's chapter, I hope you like it. This one was a little more average than the others in my opinion, and did anyone find a reference in the pets' names? 🤭

[the-oblivious-writer]

Heavy

Tara Carpenter x Reader

One-Shot

Summary: After surviving a brutal attack that left you in a coma, you awaken to find the love of your life, Tara Carpenter, has vanished from your side despite the endless nights she spent holding your hand through the worst of it.

Warning(s): Trauma, no pronouns, references to past (Scream 6) violence, mental struggles, survivor's guilt, stalking, emotional manipulation (self-imposed), and PTSD.

Notes: I was listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers while writing this.

You never looked more beautiful than when you were dying.

That thought haunts Tara as she lies in her empty bed, tracing patterns on sheets that still smell faintly of your perfume. Three months since she last held your hand in that sterile hospital room. Three months of pretending she made the right choice.

The machines kept time with your heartbeat, a rhythm she memorized during those endless nights at your bedside. Sometimes, she still hears it in her dreams - that steady beeping that meant you were still fighting, still here, still hers. Until she decided you couldn't be hers anymore.

Sam stopped by earlier, concern etched in the corners of her eyes. "You're punishing yourself," she'd said, leaving a container of soup that now sits untouched on Tara's nightstand. Maybe she is. But isn't that better than the alternative? Better than waiting for the next masked figure to emerge from the shadows, seeking to add your name to the growing list of people she's lost?

Your coma lasted six weeks. Six weeks of Tara reading to you, singing softly when the nurses weren't around, telling you all the things she should have said before. How you made her feel safe in a world that had given her every reason not to be. How your laugh could chase away the darkness that sometimes threatened to swallow her whole. How you never treated her like she was broken, even when she felt held together by nothing but stubborn will and surgical tape.

She remembers the first time you kissed her, after that night at the bowling alley. You'd been so careful with her, like you understood without being told that touch wasn't always easy for her anymore. Your hands had framed her face like she was something precious, something worth protecting. If only you'd protected yourself from her instead.

The phone on her nightstand lights up with another missed call from Chad. He's been trying to get her to come out, insisting that isolation isn't the answer. But how can she explain that every time she closes her eyes, she sees you in that hospital bed? The bandages, the bruises, the way your chest rose and fell with mechanical precision because you couldn't breathe on your own. All because someone had wanted to hurt her, and you'd been brave enough - stupid enough - to step between her and the blade.

"I can't lose you," she had whispered to your unconscious form. "I won't survive it."

But when you finally opened your eyes, weak and confused but alive, Tara realized something worse than losing you to death: losing you by choice, pushing you away to keep you safe from the curse that seems to follow her like a shadow.

The breakup was clean, surgical - like so many of the scars that map her body. She'd practiced the words in front of her bathroom mirror until they stopped making her cry. "I can't do this anymore. I need space. I need to focus on healing." All the clichés that meant nothing and everything at once. You'd looked at her with those eyes that always saw too much, and for a moment, she thought you might fight her on it. Almost hoped you would.

But you didn't. You just nodded, pressed a kiss to her forehead that felt like goodbye, and walked away. Maybe you understood. Maybe you were tired of loving someone who carried death in her wake like a bitter perfume.

Tara rolls onto her side, pulling your old high school sweatshirt tighter around herself. It stopped smelling like you weeks ago, but she wears it anyway, a form of self-torture she can't seem to give up. On her desk, photographs mock her with frozen moments of happiness - you and her at the beach, your hair wild with salt air and sunshine. The two of you at the twins' birthday party, your arm around her waist as she actually smiled for the camera. A quiet morning in your apartment, where you'd captured her making coffee in one of your oversized t-shirts, looking at peace in a way she rarely felt anymore.

Her friends tell her she's different now. Quieter. The spark that had started to return during your time together has dimmed again. Even Mindy, who never comments on anything serious, asked if she was okay the other day. Tara had wanted to laugh. Okay? How could she be when you're forced to bear wounds that were meant for her? When she spends her nights parked across from your apartment, engine off, watching the soft glow of your bedroom light like a moth drawn to flame?

She tells herself it's protection, not obsession. That someone needs to make sure you're safe, even if you don't know they're there. But the truth sits heavy in her chest as she watches your silhouette move behind curtains - the way you still favor your left side, a reminder of wounds that were meant for her. Sometimes, she catches glimpses of you leaving for work, and the sight of you walking alone makes her hands shake against the steering wheel. You look smaller somehow, or maybe that's just the distance she's forced between you.

Last week, you almost saw her. You were collecting mail from your box, and something made you turn, scanning the street with that sixth sense you always seemed to have. Tara had ducked down so fast she'd knocked her head against the dashboard, heart thundering so loud she was sure you'd hear it even from across the street. When she finally dared to look again, you were gone, but she could have sworn there were tears on your cheeks.

She knows it's wrong. Knows that if Sam or Chad found out about these nightly vigils, they'd tell her she's sliding back into old patterns, letting trauma dictate her choices. But how can she explain that sleeping is impossible unless she knows you're safe? That every time she closes her eyes without checking on you, her nightmares paint your death in vivid technicolor?

It's only a matter of time before you two cross paths again. It happens at the corner market three blocks from your old shared apartment. The same place where you used to buy cookie dough ice cream at midnight, where Tara would pretend to complain about enabling your sweet tooth while secretly loving how your kisses tasted afterward. She's reaching for coffee - your brand, though she'll never admit it - when she hears the soft intake of breath behind her.

Time stretches like taffy, sticky and overwhelming. Your reflection in the freezer glass is both familiar and foreign - thinner maybe, or just holding yourself differently. The scar above your collarbone peeks out from your shirt collar, a silvery reminder of everything she's tried to forget.

"Tara."

Her name in your mouth still sounds like coming home. She forces herself to turn, to face the reality of you standing three feet away with a basket of groceries hanging from your arm. The fluorescent lights cast shadows under your eyes that weren't there before, and she wonders if you're sleeping any better than she is.

"You look..." The words tangle in her throat. Alive. Beautiful. Like everything I've been running from. "...good."

Your laugh is hollow, nothing like the sound she keeps locked away in her memory. "Liar." You shift your weight, and she catches the slight wince - another reminder of what loving her cost you. "You've lost weight."

"Haven't been hungry much." The confession slips out before she can stop it.

Something flashes across your face - concern, maybe anger. You take a step forward, and she matches it with a step back, her spine hitting the cold glass of the freezer door. The coffee can in her hands shakes slightly.

"Don't," she whispers, but she's not sure if she's talking to you or herself.

"Don't what, Tara? Don't care? Don't worry? Because I tried that. It doesn't work." Your voice cracks on the last word, and she watches you swallow hard. "I see your car, you know. Outside my apartment."

The confession lands like a physical blow. Heat crawls up her neck as shame mingles with something else - relief, maybe, that you still know her well enough to notice. That some part of you is still watching for her too.

"I just..." She closes her eyes, unable to bear the weight of your gaze. "I need to know you're safe."

"Safe?" Now there's definitely anger in your voice. "You want me safe? Then stop making decisions for both of us. Stop deciding what I can and can't handle. Stop-" Your voice breaks, and when she opens her eyes, there are tears tracking down your cheeks. "Stop acting like your love is a death sentence."

The coffee can clatters to the floor, forgotten. Her hands ache to reach for you, to wipe away those tears she caused. But she forces them to stay at her sides, nails digging crescents into her palms.

"You almost died," she says, the words tasting like copper in her mouth. "Because of me. Because I thought I could have this - have you - without danger following. I was wrong."

"No." You step closer, and this time she can't make herself move away. "I almost died because some psychopath decided to come after us with a knife. Not because of you. Never because of you."

Your hand reaches out, hovering just shy of touching her face. She can feel the heat of it, the promise of contact that makes her chest tight with wanting. The market's muzak plays faintly in the background, some old love song that feels like mockery.

"I miss you," you whisper, and it's the gentlest violence she's ever experienced. "I miss you, and I'm not sleeping, and sometimes I think I see you everywhere, only to turn around and find empty space. And then I realized I wasn't imagining it - you were actually there, watching over me like some heartbroken guardian angel."

A sob builds in her throat. "I don't know how to stop loving you."

"Then don't." Your hand finally makes contact, cupping her cheek, and Tara breaks. "Don't stop. Just... come home."

She leans into your touch for one heartbeat, two, allowing herself to remember what it feels like to be held by hands that know all her scars. Then she steps back, away from your warmth, your forgiveness, your love that feels too much like salvation.

"I can't." The words taste like ash. "I'm sorry. I can't."

She runs. Past the dropped coffee, past the concerned clerk, past everything but the sound of you calling her name. It follows her all the way home, where she collapses against her front door and finally lets herself cry for everything she keeps choosing to lose.

The worst part is knowing that if she could do it all over again - live another life, make different choices - she'd still choose you. Still fall for the way you dance off-beat to every song, still melt at how you bring her coffee just the way she likes it, still love you with every broken piece of herself. She'd just do a better job of staying away before you could love her back.

Night settles around her like a familiar weight. In the darkness, she can almost pretend you're still here, that this is just another evening where you'll wrap your arms around her and keep the nightmares at bay. But the bed stays empty, and the shadows stay thick, and somewhere across town, you're probably sleeping peacefully for the first time since you met her.

"I love you," she whispers to the empty room, words she never said enough when she had the chance. "I love you, and that's why I can't keep you."

The silence offers no comfort, no contradiction. Just the steady tick of her bedside clock, counting down the moments until another day without you begins. Another day of being strong enough to keep her distance, of choosing your safety over her happiness. Another day of remembering that sometimes love means knowing when to let go, even when every cell in your body screams to hold on tighter.

Sleep will come eventually, bringing dreams of your smile, your touch, the way you used to look at her like she hung the stars. And tomorrow, she'll wake up and do it all again - loving you from afar, keeping you safe the only way she knows how. Because that's what love is to Tara Carpenter now: not a fairy tale, not a happy ending, but a sacrifice she makes every day to keep you breathing.

Even if it means she can barely breathe herself.

-----------

A/N: the meaning behind The Maria's "Heavy" inspired this.

[zepskies]

Omgg girl I'M so excited to see what you thought of Part 3! It's a bit slower than Part 2, but we've got some big emotional hurdles in this one... (loll mommy needs some you time. 💜💜)

I love this description btw Really painted a picture in my head 😍👏

Aww thank you so much! I went to Seattle a few years ago in the fall, and it was absolutely beautiful with the trees changing their colors and basically painting the ground with different colors. 💜

Ouch. That line probably haunted her afterward 😂🙈 (but I loved their banter! You can totally see they have a close and loving relationship 💕) And her dad's optimism and "fate" was so adorable ☺️

Oh definitely, poor thing. She's so very done with bears too. 😅 Aww I was hoping people would see that, even in this small glimpse of her and her dad's relationship. I always find it so adorable when dads are the bigger "sap" in the relationship. 😂

Ah, our boy entered work mode 🤓

Oh you BET loll!!

Oh God 🙈 No, I can't watch him leave alone. At least get Sam!!! Oh God, no, no, no, no... 🫣 I also realized in that moment why my readers are usually "from the same foxhole" because this is exactly what I can't do. Freaks me the fuck out and gives me so much anxiety. Like, I have to be there 😂 I don't know how you do it. Bravo, friend 😅👏

The tensiooooon loll.

Ooh that makes sense loll. For me I thrive in that angst for some reason. Like, making it through all the uncertainty and fear appeals to my hopeless romantic heart to have the battered hero eventually come home to the one he loves. 🥹💗

But yeah, she really shouldn't be going out there on a suss ankle in the middle of winter. 🫠🫠 (Also I'm saving that worried Ross gif LLOL)

Ooooh, btw, super interesting what you said about the bear meat! I figured something like this. They did wear bear fur, right? And I know people back then never wasted anything, so makes sense they'd eat the meat, too 😄

Ooh yeah I learned about that from watching modern survivalists talk about their experiences on Joe Rogan's podcast lmao. They literally eat the whole caribou, moose, etc. Cartilage and bone and all. 🤢 So it still goes on today, believe it or not! But oh yeah, when America was still being settled, for example, certain Native Americans tribes would trade with European settlers and American traders for furs.

I cackled 😂 Love her feistiness!

bahaha I'm glad you liked that little internal monologue. 😘

Aww 😭😭 Poor thing... 😢 (Loved how she explained not taking his room. While invasive, I think if Dean came back to this in his room, he would've melted 🫠🫶)

Honestly you're probably right loll. At first he'd be like "wtf?" But then he'd probably melt and smile ruefully/soft. 💕

I knew it was a long shot, especially when her father wasn't with Dean, but still breaks my heart for her 💔😢

Yeah I feel like we all knew it was headed here, but it was still heartbreaking for me to even write too. 😭💙

The anxiety is long forgotten. All is forgiven... *sighs dreamily* 😍😍

Ahaha that's what I hoped you'd say. 😏💓

Oh no, you come back here, young man!!! It wouldn't be Dean, though, without the "you can't date me, I'm dangerous and not good enough" freak out 😂

LOLL I imagine you grabbing him by his ear. 😂 But right? I feel like in any kind of canon setting, you have to deal with Dean's (lack of) self-worth, as well with his fear of being a danger to the ones he loves. 💙💙

Legit crying right now 😭😭😭 This is exactly why we always want what's best for him in fanfics. He deserves it so much 🥺

Honestly this is why I keep writing that "deal with your self-worth" stuff when it comes to Dean, because I really wished he could've found his happiness like Sam got in the end of S15. 😭

Love that little detail. Makes such a huge difference ❤️

Aw thank you!! That's one of those details I hope people notice when they read this chapter. 🥹

Oooooh, I so can't wait to read the finale now! This is absolutely amazing, Alex! It's got the right amount of angst and heartbreak, only to haul me back into this sweet cabin romanticism 😍🤍🤍🤍

I so hope you enjoy the final part, my friend!! 🥹🥹 This little series was so fun, especially to explore the omegaverse trope/world with some Alpha Dean, giving those post-S15 angsty feels. In a way, it's kind of a S15 fix-it fic. And idk if you remember, but our convo way back about spicy goodness in a cabin in front of the fireplace is more or less what inspired the next chapter (and the whole fic, really). 😂💜

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases. 

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.” 

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself. 

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father. 

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes. 

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it. 

Wendigo. 

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say. 

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin. 

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside. 

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back. 

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser. 

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either. 

But you’ll have to try. 

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open. 

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive. 

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt. 

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says. 

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door. 

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes. 

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him. 

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place. 

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure. 

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss. 

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.  

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair. 

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion. 

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer. 

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance. 

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”  

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin. 

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek. 

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands. 

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin. 

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.” 

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free. 

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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[indieyuugure]

Hello☺️ first of all I hope you're ok and you enjoy your free time

Second : Is the new pages will start like tmnt 2012 " the good, the bad and Casey Jones " ?

Thirth : How you design the baby turtles eyes ? Are they all black like 2012 or not ?

And last : Do you have something new about the books ? Sorry for asking for the second time in 10 days btw😅😭

That's all, thanks for your time☺️

Hi! I’m doing good, very much enjoying my free time!

Mm, it’s much closer to the introduction of Casey in 2003 “Meet Casey Jones” (which coincidentally is also the 4th episode) in both the way the chapter starts and the general plot of that chapter. It’s not exactly the same, I still added quite a few differences, but this episode takes most of its inspiration from 2003.

I do! Yes, my internet has been on the fritz lately so haven’t been able to post the video I wanted but the proof has been approved:

(This is just a photo, I have a video of me flipping through it but it won’t load)

The books should be on their way, so I’m expecting to get them either this week or next. Sorry it’s taking a bit, I’m hoping to ship them out before the end of January like I said.

I will say though, seeing the finished book, the wait is gonna be worth it! ^v^

Good questions! :]

[crossfandomskylines]

Mountain with a View

Pairing: Glen Powell (RPF) x Female Reader

Summary: Amid the beauty of a coastal getaway, years of neglect and unspoken pain come to a head as you confront Glen about the growing distance in your relationship. What begins as heartbreak turns into a moment of raw honesty as Glen opens up about his fears and regrets, and you acknowledge your own role in the cracks between you. With one final promise and a fragile hope for reconciliation, you take the first steps toward rebuilding, finding solace in the quiet reminder that love is worth fighting for.

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing angst, and I think I did okay with it. This took me a little bit longer to write as I've been working on it for about a month or so. This is HEAVILY inspired by the song Mountain with a View by Kelsea Ballerini. I would love to know what you guys think!

The soft light of dawn spilled over the cliffs of Big Sur, painting the rugged coastline in hues of gold and pale pink. Through the open windows of the restaurant, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore filled the air, steady and unchanging, like a heartbeat. The faint smell of salt mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a serene tableau that should have felt like paradise.

The table was elegantly set, each detail carefully curated to reflect the luxury of the resort. Crisp white linens draped over the small table, their edges fluttering slightly in the gentle morning breeze. A delicate vase held a cluster of fresh flowers—soft blues and creams that mirrored the morning sky—while the steam rising from the coffee in front of you curled lazily upward, dissipating into the air. Two empty plates sat perfectly aligned, their white porcelain gleaming in the sunlight.

But your gaze lingered on the chair across from you. Empty.

The untouched menu lay neatly folded beside the vacant place setting, its pristine edges catching the light as if mocking the silence that hung between you and the space meant for him. You glanced down at your own menu, holding it loosely in your hands, though the words blurred together. How many times had you reread the same description of avocado toast? How many times had you looked up, hoping to see him striding through the doorway, his usual easy confidence carrying him to you with a quick apology and a kiss pressed to your temple?

The coffee in your mug had gone lukewarm. You wrapped your hands around it anyway, seeking comfort in its weight, its fleeting warmth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized the server was probably waiting for a sign that you were ready to order. 

But you weren’t. Not yet.

This was supposed to be romantic. The thought came unbidden, sharp and bitter. You had envisioned something different for this morning—a quiet meal shared with him, stolen moments of intimacy as the rest of the world slowly woke. Instead, the carefully orchestrated perfection of the setting only made the absence feel heavier, more pronounced. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the soft murmur of other diners scattered across the restaurant’s patio.

You set the menu down and traced a finger along the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out an imaginary crease. The flowers in the vase shifted slightly in the breeze, their petals brushing against one another like a whisper.

And still, the chair across from you remained empty.

You lifted the mug to your lips, sipping the now-tepid coffee and willing the warmth to soothe the knot twisting tighter in your chest. But it didn’t. The weight of the empty chair across from you pressed heavier with each passing minute, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts from circling back to him.

You hadn’t heard from Glen since last night. A text around 9 p.m., short and vague, letting you know something had come up and he wouldn’t make it until today. No explanation, no details. Just: Sorry, won’t make it tonight. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

It was morning now, and tomorrow had become today, yet the chair in front of you remained unoccupied.

The unease gnawed at you, growing sharper with each passing second. This was his trip, his plan to reconnect, to prove that you both still had something worth holding onto. You hadn’t even asked for it; he’d been the one to insist you both needed a weekend away, somewhere beautiful and secluded, just the two of you. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt more like proof of how far apart you’d drifted than any sort of reconciliation.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted softly, and you glanced up to see the waiter standing nearby, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. His smile was polite but edged with curiosity, his gaze flickering briefly to the empty chair before returning to you. “Are you ready to order?”

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth tugging upward as if on autopilot. “I think I’ll give it a few more minutes,” you said, your voice light but strained.

The waiter nodded, his professional demeanor not faltering as he replied, “Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He moved away, weaving between tables to check on a couple sitting near the edge of the patio.

You exhaled slowly and reached for your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. There he was, smiling back at you from the screen.

The photos posted this morning were polished, curated to perfection: behind-the-scenes shots of Glen on set, his arm slung casually around his co-stars; selfies of him laughing with the crew in picturesque European locations; snapshots of stunning landscapes captioned with vague, charming quips. You scrolled through them, one after another, and felt the ache in your chest deepen.

The pictures looked pretty—at least they did on his Instagram.

The sting of it settled in your chest like a sharp, jagged stone. You didn’t even know exactly where he was right now. The last time you’d spoken, he’d mentioned Amsterdam, but that was weeks ago. For all you knew, he could’ve been halfway across the continent by now.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, and for a moment, you debated texting him. Where are you? But you didn’t. Instead, you scrolled further, past the carefully filtered moments that felt so far removed from the reality you were sitting in.

When was the last time you’d had a real conversation with him?

You thought back to your recent texts, the ones that had become increasingly generic, a hollow routine of pleasantries that no longer carried the weight of meaning. Good morning, babe. Goodnight, miss you. The words had once made your heart flutter, a reminder that he was thinking of you even from miles away. 

Now, they just felt like muscle memory—sent out of obligation rather than genuine connection.

The memory of those texts brought a bitter taste to your mouth, sharper than the coffee you hadn’t touched in minutes. You set your phone down on the table with a quiet thud, your fingers curling into your lap as you tried to shake the growing resentment clawing its way up your throat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

You stared out past the edge of the terrace, where the cliffs gave way to the water. The waves crashed below in a steady rhythm, their sound blending with the faint hum of conversation from the other tables. You tried to ground yourself in the moment, to let the beauty of the setting take the edge off the bitter thoughts swirling in your mind. 

But the ache inside was relentless, and your mind wandered to a different time—a time when things with Glen had felt so much simpler, so much easier.

He used to surprise you with the little things. You could still picture the way he’d walk into the apartment with your favorite coffee in hand, the sleeve scribbled with some inside joke that made you laugh every time. Or the way he’d grab your hand in the middle of the week and say, “C’mon, we’re going somewhere,” without offering a single clue as to where you were headed. You’d end up at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d found on Yelp, or sitting on a blanket in the park with a takeout box between you. He always made it an adventure.

And the way he looked at you back then… you felt like the center of his universe. Like there was no one else in the world who mattered to him the way you did. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you walked into a room, the way he’d pull you close just to tell you how beautiful you looked, even when you were in sweatpants and an old hoodie.

He loved me so much more at twenty-three.

The thought hit you like a wave, pulling you under. A lot can change in six years, it seems.

You used to believe that love grew stronger with time. That the shared memories, the inside jokes, the challenges you overcame together would deepen your connection. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt like the opposite had happened.

You remembered the first time he told you he loved you. You’d been dating for a few months, and he’d taken you to a concert in the city. It had been raining that night, and you both ended up soaked to the bone, laughing as you ran from the venue to his car. Later, as you sat wrapped in his jacket with your hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, he’d looked at you and said it like it was the easiest thing in the world: “I love you.”

You’d believed him then. Completely, utterly, without hesitation.

But now, the words felt like a faint echo of something that had once been vibrant and alive. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said it in a way that felt real. Not over a text, not in the perfunctory way he’d sign off on a phone call—but the way he used to say it, with his eyes locked on yours like he meant every syllable.

You ran a hand through your hair, the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare the past to the present. Maybe this was just what happened in relationships over time. But that didn’t make the emptiness you felt any easier to bear.

The waiter passed by again, and you glanced at the empty chair. Your chest tightened. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to show up, to prove that this trip wasn’t just another empty promise. But as the minutes ticked by, the weight of his absence grew heavier, and the unease in your stomach gave way to something sharper—resentment, maybe.

Six years ago, he would’ve been here. Six years ago, he wouldn’t have let anything stop him.

And now? Now you weren’t sure what was left between you except memories of what used to be.

You let out a quiet breath, your gaze dropping to the untouched menu in front of you. Where did it all go wrong?

It wasn’t always like this—this hollow ache of waiting, of wondering. There was a time when Glen made you feel like you were his whole world. But now, it was like you were living in his orbit, watching him shine while you stood in the shadows, unseen and forgotten.

Your mind drifted back to the first time he missed something important. It wasn’t a big deal, not really. A dinner date that he had to cancel last minute because a meeting with a director ran late. You’d been disappointed, sure, but he made up for it the next night with takeout and your favorite movie. It felt like a one-time thing then—just a fluke in an otherwise perfect relationship.

But then it happened again. An anniversary he forgot until you reminded him the following morning. He’d scrambled to make a dinner reservation, his apology genuine but rushed. And then there was the weekend trip a few years back you’d planned together, the one you’d been looking forward to for weeks, canceled because he got called back to set for reshoots.

You told yourself it was temporary. That it wasn’t his fault. Glen was ambitious, and you admired that about him. He was chasing his dreams, and you wanted to support him.

But gradually, his career began to take priority over everything else—including you.

You remembered the first time you brought it up to him, years ago, around the time all the buzz for Top Gun: Maverick started. His career was taking off in ways neither of you had anticipated, and it felt like he was slipping away from you, one missed moment at a time.

“I just feel like…” you’d hesitated, trying to find the right words, “like we don’t see each other anymore. Like you’re always busy, and I’m just… here.”

He’d pulled you into his arms, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know, babe. I know it’s been a lot lately, but it’s just this project. Once it’s over, things will go back to normal. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. And for a while, you did. But after the whirlwind press tour for Top Gun, there was another project. And then another. Each one bigger than the last. Each one demanding more of his time, his energy, his focus.

The promises he made—that things would slow down, that he’d have more time for you—started to feel like smoke slipping through your fingers. They were never meant to be kept, just empty words to soothe you in the moment.

The last year of your life had proven that. You could count on one hand the number of nights you’d spent together in the same place, and even then, his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. On a script, on a meeting, on whatever was waiting for him the next day.

Sitting at the table now, you wrestled with your emotions. Part of you wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were, that the Glen you’d fallen in love with was still in there somewhere, waiting to come back to you. But deep down, you knew better. You couldn’t unring a bell. You couldn’t undo the years of distance that had grown between you.

The truth sat heavy in your chest, undeniable and cruel: Glen’s career wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep waiting for him to choose you.

The sound of laughter from a nearby table broke your train of thought. You glanced toward the source, a young couple leaning into each other, their faces alight with the kind of joy you remembered so vividly from the early days with Glen.

You’d just decided to flag the waiter and order something when you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Sorry I’m late.”

His voice was smooth, polished, just like everything else about him. Glen always had a way of sounding like nothing was ever truly a big deal, like the world bent itself around his schedule and not the other way around.

You glanced up as he slid into the seat across from you, looking every bit the Hollywood leading man. His perfectly tousled hair caught the soft morning light, and his tailored shirt looked as though it had been pulled straight off a magazine cover. He flashed you the charming smile that used to make your heart race, but now it only made your stomach twist.

“You know how crazy things can get,” he added with a casual shrug, as if the excuse alone should absolve him.

You managed a tight smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I know.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, as Glen picked up the menu. You couldn’t help noticing the faint scent of his cologne, subtle but sharp, lingering in the air. It was the same one he’d worn for years, a scent that used to comfort you. Now it just felt distant, like a memory you couldn’t quite hold onto.

“So,” Glen began, his tone overly light, “how are you liking the trip so far?”

You glanced up at him, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He raised an eyebrow, setting the menu down. “Come on, this place is amazing. I thought you’d love it.”

“It is amazing,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You looked out the open window, watching the waves crash against the cliffs in the distance. “I just… I guess I thought we’d be seeing more of it together.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you meant them to be. Glen shifted in his seat, picking up his water glass and taking a long sip.

“You know how things are,” he said, his tone apologetic but dismissive all the same. “This shoot’s been nonstop, and they’re already talking about reshoots next month. But I wanted us to have this time together, even if it’s just for a couple of days.”

“Right,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus on the vase of fresh flowers between you. White lilies, delicate and pristine.

The clink of silverware against plates at a nearby table filled the silence. You glanced over at Glen, noting the way he avoided meeting your eyes for too long. He folded his hands in front of him, his polished watch catching the light, and for a moment, it felt like you were sitting across from a stranger.

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “So, what looks good here? Have you looked at the menu yet?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “The avocado toast looks nice.”

“Avocado toast,” Glen repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re so predictable.”

It was the kind of teasing that used to make you laugh, the kind that felt endearing. But now it felt different—like he was poking at a version of you he hadn’t taken the time to know in years.

You traced the rim of your coffee mug with your finger, searching for something to say, but nothing came. The silence grew, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the hum of other diners’ conversations.

Finally, Glen flagged down the waiter, ordering for both of you without so much as a glance in your direction. You didn’t correct him, even though you’d changed your mind about what you wanted.

The breakfast felt quiet and suffocating. Every bite of food tasted like nothing, every glance Glen threw your way felt like it came from someone miles away. You wanted to bridge the gap, to say something that would pull him back to you, but the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you focused on the details. The clink of his fork against his plate. The way he scrolled through his phone when he thought you weren’t looking. The half-empty coffee cup he didn’t bother finishing. And the way he kept glancing at his watch, like there was somewhere else he’d rather be. Somewhere else he probably was already planning to go.

Glen’s fork scraped against his plate as he finished the last bite of his omelet. You’d barely touched your avocado toast, pushing it around with your fork until it looked more like a suggestion of a meal than food.

He glanced at you, then down at the untouched plate. “Not hungry?”

You hesitated, forcing a faint smile. “I guess not.”

He nodded absently, flagging down the waiter with a lift of his hand. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his wallet, slipping a card onto the check tray as soon as it arrived. No hesitation, no glance at the total—it was a gesture that screamed effortless privilege, something that used to impress you. Now, it just felt... hollow.

“Ready?” he asked, standing and holding out a hand to you.

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment too long before taking it, his grip firm but impersonal. He helped you out of your chair like it was a reflex, like leading you was second nature but looking at you wasn’t.

The two of you stepped out into the fresh morning air, the salty breeze carrying with it the faint crash of waves from below. Glen slipped on his sunglasses, the mirrored lenses catching the soft light of dawn as he looked down the narrow road leading toward your rental house.

“It’s a nice morning,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Want to walk back?”

You nodded, tucking your arms around yourself. “Sure.”

The two of you set off in silence, your shoes crunching against the gravel path before it gave way to the smooth cobblestones of the resort. The cliffs of Big Sur loomed in the distance, majestic and timeless, their beauty unchanging despite the ache in your chest.

Glen walked with the easy confidence he always carried, his long strides slowing slightly to match your pace. You stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye—his jaw was relaxed, his gaze hidden behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. He looked like someone who belonged in this setting, polished and effortless.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” Glen asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you lied. The truth was, you’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, the sound of distant waves doing nothing to quiet the spiral of thoughts in your head. “You?”

“As good as I could expect,” he replied, flashing you a quick smile. “You know how sleeping on a flight is.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say. The conversation fizzled out again, leaving only the sound of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls to fill the space between you.

As you rounded a corner, the rental house came into view—a charming, weathered cottage perched on the edge of a cliff, its white shutters standing out against the soft gray of its exterior. It had been your idea to book something cozy and intimate, a far cry from the glitzy resort Glen had looked into. At the time, you’d thought it would be a chance for the two of you to reconnect. Now, it just felt like a stage for the growing distance between you.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you lingered for a moment, looking out at the endless expanse of ocean. The salty breeze swept through your hair, carrying with it a question you couldn’t push away:

When did it all start to fall apart?

The soft click of the door closing behind you felt heavier than it should have. Glen dropped his keys onto the small table by the door and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. He moved through the cozy living room with the ease of someone who didn’t notice the growing weight in the air between you.

“So,” he said, heading toward the kitchen, “how’s Emily doing? She’s the friend who is pregnant, right? When’s she due again? We should probably send a gift or something, don’t you think?”

You froze where you stood, his words settling over you like ice.

“The baby shower was four months ago,” you said slowly, your voice tight. “Her daughter’s going to be three months old next week. I showed you a picture of her when she was born.”

Glen paused mid-step, glancing back at you with a sheepish smile. “Right. I—I guess I forgot.”

Forgot.

The word echoed in your mind, dredging up every other time he’d “forgotten”—anniversaries, birthdays, plans you’d made weeks in advance. The ache in your chest swelled, anger and hurt twisting together in a knot that felt impossible to untangle.

“You forgot,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “Of course, you forgot. Why would you remember anything about my life when you’re too busy living your own?”

He frowned, the easy confidence he always carried faltering for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if that could somehow hold you together. “It means you don’t know anything about me anymore, Glen. Not really. You’re so out of touch with my life it’s like you’re not even in it.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising defensively. “I’ve been busy. You know how crazy things get with work.”

“You’ve been busy?” You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? I’ve been here waiting, Glen. Not just today, but for years. Waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to keep your promises.”

Glen ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into his tone. “You knew what you were signing up for when we got together. You knew my career was important to me.”

“And what about me?” The words burst out of you, raw and unfiltered. “Was I ever important to you? Or was I just supposed to sit here and smile and wait while you made excuse after excuse? You promised things would get better, but they haven’t. And I can’t keep waiting for you to show up.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, his voice low and simmering. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I don’t care about you.”

“Do you?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and something far more vulnerable. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave, but I can’t keep doing this, Glen. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine while you’re barely here.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Glen stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he was trying to piece together how things had unraveled so quickly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less defensive. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to try,” you said, your voice cracking. “I want you to fight for this, for us, but you don’t...And I don’t think you ever will.”

His silence was deafening, and in that moment, you knew.

You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as tears burned at the corners of your eyes. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance filtered through the open windows, a cruel reminder of the beauty around you that felt so out of reach.

When Glen finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize you felt this way.”

You turned back to him, your gaze steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “That’s the problem, Glen. You don’t realize anything.”

Glen stayed rooted to the spot, his hands resting on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out. His knuckles whitened against the wood as he gripped it tighter, the weight of your words pressing down on him.

“You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. The phrase hung in the air, raw and unforgiving.

He looked up at you then, his usual polished composure cracking ever so slightly. His brows drew together, and his jaw flexed like he was trying to find the right words and failing. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice wavered, and he stopped. His hand rose to his face, dragging down his jaw as he cleared his throat.

“You really want to leave?” he asked, his voice low and strained, like the words physically hurt to say.

You hadn’t expected him to sound so... vulnerable. It caught you off guard, but it wasn’t enough to soften the ache in your chest.

You turned toward him slowly, your arms still wrapped around yourself. The tightness in your throat returned, and you had to swallow hard before you could respond. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded.

The moment stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Glen exhaled sharply, running both hands through his hair now. He paced a few steps before stopping, his back to you.

“I didn’t... I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. He sounded less like the confident, larger-than-life man you’d fallen for and more like someone lost.

“That’s the problem,” you said softly, not out of anger but exhaustion. “You didn’t realize. You never realize.”

He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours like he was looking for some flicker of hope, something to hold on to. “I know I’ve screwed up, okay? I know I haven’t been... I haven’t been what you needed. But I thought—I thought we were okay. I thought we’d figure it out like we always do.”

“Glen, we haven’t been ‘okay’ in a long time,” you said, your voice breaking on the last word. “I’ve been waiting for things to change, for you to keep your promises, but they’re always just words. And I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

He took a step closer, his expression pleading. “I can do better. I’ll make time for you, for us. Just—don’t give up on me. On us.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over now despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I can't keep doing this. I’ve been holding on for so long, Glen. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of being second to everything else in your life.”

His shoulders slumped, and he took another step closer, hesitating like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

The tightness in your throat became unbearable, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally spoke. “I think I have to be.”

The words hung in the space between you, final and irrevocable. Glen’s face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, might fight harder. But then he just nodded, a hollow acceptance settling over him.

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him like that, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. The sound of the waves outside filled the silence as the two of you stood there, caught between what had been and what would never be again.

The silence between you lingered, heavy and unbearable, until Glen finally broke it. “Do you... do you want me to book you a flight home?”

His voice was low, almost tentative, like he was afraid of your answer. You didn’t look at him, staring down at the floor instead. Your chest tightened at the question, the finality of it. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way he exhaled like the air had been punched out of him. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. You swore you could feel the exact moment his heart broke, could see it in the defeated way he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe, some small part of him had been holding on to the hope that this was all a bad dream—that you’d wake up tomorrow and things would go back to normal.

But your nod was the final blow, and he seemed to understand that. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded once, more to himself than to you, and turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll... I’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away, and you didn’t call after him.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you turned toward the glass doors leading out to the balcony. The cool morning air hit you the moment you stepped outside, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sea. The waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs below, indifferent to the turmoil inside you.

You gripped the edge of the balcony railing, the smooth metal cold beneath your palms. The weight of everything—the fight, the words you’d spoken, the reality of what you’d just done—pressed down on you. It felt suffocating and freeing all at once.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions inside you. This was it. The end of something that had once been everything to you. Six years of memories, of laughter and love, of promises whispered in the dark—they all came rushing back, unbidden, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of them.

But as painful as it was, you knew you’d made the right choice.

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself feel it all—the grief, the anger, the sadness, the relief.

Inside, you could hear faint sounds of movement—Glen probably on the phone, making arrangements to send you home. The home you hadn’t been to in days, but already longed for.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind whip through your hair, and exhaled. You didn’t know what came next, but for now, all you could do was stand here, on this edge, and breathe.

The wind swirled around you as you leaned on the balcony railing, the weight of everything settling deep in your chest. The sound of the waves was steady, soothing even, but it couldn’t drown out the muffled noise that drifted through the open window behind you.

At first, you didn’t register it. But then it came again—a soft, broken sound that made you still.

You turned slightly, glancing over your shoulder toward the bedroom. Through the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze, you saw him. Glen was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

His shoulders were shaking.

You froze, the sight striking something deep inside you. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just a quiet, private unraveling. But it was unmistakable: Glen was crying.

The realization hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. Glen never cried. He’d always been the one to keep his emotions in check, to brush off pain or sadness with a laugh or a quick deflection. The only time you’d ever seen him like this was years ago, when his family lost his grandmother. You’d held him then, wrapping your arms around him as he let himself break, his face buried in your shoulder.

And now, watching him through the window, you were reminded of that moment. Only this time, he wasn’t leaning on you for comfort. He was alone, carrying the weight of what had just happened all by himself.

This wasn’t the polished, distant Glen who had been showing up less and less in your life. This wasn’t the Glen who missed breakfasts or forgot about baby showers. This was the man you fell in love with—the one who used to bring you your favorite coffee on a random Tuesday, who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. This was your Glen.

Your throat tightened as you watched him, your heart aching in a way that felt almost unbearable.

A part of you wanted to go to him, to cross the room and sit beside him, to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. That you didn’t mean it, that you’d stay, that you could find a way to fix things together.

But your feet wouldn’t move.

Because deep down, you knew that even if you comforted him now, it wouldn’t change anything. The years of distance, of broken promises, of waiting and hoping—it wasn’t something a single moment could undo.

Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The sight of him like this—so raw, so unguarded—tugged at something inside you, a small flicker of the love you’d been trying to let go of.

You turned back to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of his quiet sobs carried through the air, cutting through you in a way that made it hard to breathe.

And finally, you let yourself cry too.

The silence between you was heavy, the kind that wrapped itself around you and wouldn’t let go. You stayed on the balcony, gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks, the occasional hitch in your breath the only sound you made.

Inside, Glen hadn’t moved much. You could still see him through the window, his figure barely shifting as he sat on the edge of the bed. His shoulders had stopped shaking, but he hadn’t lifted his head.

Minutes passed, maybe an hour—you weren’t sure. Time felt like it had frozen, stretching out endlessly in this painful limbo.

Finally, you heard him making his way out of the bedroom.

“The earliest flight I could get is this afternoon,” he said, his voice rough and low, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes through the thin veil of the curtain. They were red-rimmed and glassy, his face pale, his jaw tight like he was holding something back.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He stood then, running a hand through his hair before stepping through the sliding glass door onto the patio where you were.. He stopped just short of you, as if there was an invisible barrier between you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears as you waited for him to continue.

“For not making you a priority. For being too caught up in my own world to see what I was doing to you—what I was doing to us.” He paused, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. “I didn’t mean to... I just—I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you stayed quiet, letting him get it out.

“I thought if I just worked hard enough,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “I could make everything perfect for us. The house, the vacations, the security—everything. I thought that’s what you deserved. But... I see now I’ve just been pushing you away.”

The vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a punch to the chest. It was the same look he’d had years ago, the one that made you fall for him in the first place. It was a raw, unguarded honesty that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking again. “I could tell things were getting bad, but I didn’t know how to fix them. And there was so much I couldn’t control—work, schedules, everything. So I buried myself in it, thinking... I don’t know. Maybe if I just stayed busy, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I was losing you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you had to look away, your gaze dropping to the wooden floor of the balcony.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” Glen said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “And if... if you're not happy with...” His voice cracked completely, and he had to stop, clearing his throat before continuing. “If you're not happy with me, then... I’ll understand.”

You looked back at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, it felt like you were staring at the Glen you used to know—the one who used to bring you coffee just because, who used to hold your hand in the car, who used to make you feel like you were the center of his universe.

But that version of him felt so far away now, like a memory you could barely reach.

“I just... I just want you to be happy,” he repeated, his voice barely audible, as if saying it again might make it hurt less.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. They were honest, raw, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they felt real. But they weren’t enough—not anymore.

You turned fully to face him, leaning back against the balcony railing for support. The tightness in your chest didn’t ease, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

“It’s not just you, Glen,” you began, your voice trembling. “I—I let this happen too.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if your admission confused him.

“I’ve been avoiding the hard conversations,” you continued, looking down at your hands, your thumb nervously tracing over the edge of your ring. “Because I was scared. Scared of what they might reveal. Scared that if I said how I really felt, it would all just... fall apart.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, waiting for you to finish.

“I thought that if I just kept quiet, if I just kept pretending everything was fine, then maybe we could get back to the way we used to be eventually. But it hasn’t worked. And now... now I feel like we’ve just been drifting further and further apart.”

You paused, taking a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the edge of the railing.

“I love you, Glen,” you said, your voice breaking on the words. “God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But love isn’t enough—not if you’re never here. Not if you’re always somewhere else, chasing something I can’t reach. I'm never going to be happy if you're not here with me.”

He flinched like the words physically hit him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets.

“I need you to be present,” you said, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I need to feel like I matter to you, like our relationship matters to you. And I haven’t felt that in so long.”

His jaw worked, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find something to say. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“You do matter to me,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You matter more than anything. I just... I didn’t realize how much I was failing you. I thought I was doing all of this for us, but I see now that it’s not enough. That I’m not enough.”

You shook your head quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s not about being enough, Glen. It’s about being here. Being with me, not just physically, but emotionally.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes glistening, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything you’d been holding back for years hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain in his expression, but you didn’t know how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling. 

The silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, until Glen took a tentative step forward. His hand hovered in the space between you for a moment, like he was waiting for permission. Then, with a careful slowness, he closed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

The warmth of his embrace was immediate, familiar, and for a moment, it felt like you could let yourself fall apart. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand resting against the back of your head as he tilted his chin down to press a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, you buried your face against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soaking up your tears. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands clutching at the back of his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

His grip tightened, just enough to make you feel safe, but not enough to smother. You could hear his heart beating against your ear, steady and strong, and for a fleeting second, you wondered if you’d ever hear it this close again.

You clung to him, your fingers curling into the material of his shirt as if holding on could somehow freeze time. The thought that this might be the last time you’d feel his arms around you made your throat tighten, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

He leaned down closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he murmured, “I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head weakly, your voice muffled against his chest as you choked out, “I didn’t either.”

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. His eyes searched yours, wide and desperate, his voice breaking as he finally spoke.

“Please,” he said, the single word trembling with emotion. “Just... give me one more chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you in place.

“I know I’ve said this before,” he continued, his voice low but urgent, “but this time it’s different. I swear to you, it’s different.”

You wanted to believe him—God, you wanted to—but doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of your mind. He must have seen it on your face because he rushed to keep speaking, the words tumbling out almost faster than he could say them.

“I’ve been thinking—really thinking—about how I’ve let you down. About how I’ve let us down. And you’re right. I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to make everything perfect, that I didn’t see how much I was losing in the process. But I’m done, okay? I’m done putting my career ahead of you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. “What are you saying?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded like he’d already made the decision. “After this project wraps, I’m taking a break. A real one this time. No more back-to-back shoots, no more press tours that take me halfway across the world. I’ll cut back—one, maybe two projects a year, tops. I don’t care if it hurts my career. I just want to stop hurting you.”

His words were raw, unpolished, but they hit you like a punch to the chest. For the first time in years, it felt like he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. There was thought behind his words, real intention.

He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on, his voice softer now. “I’ll do whatever. Whatever you need, whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be the man you fell in love with again.”

You stared at him, your tears blurring his face as his words echoed in your mind. You could feel the sincerity in every syllable, see it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as his hands slid down to take yours in his. “Just give me one more chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us.”

His words wrapped around your heart, tugging you in two directions. The part of you that had been hurt over and over again wanted to stay guarded, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place. But another part—the part that still loved him, that still saw glimpses of the man you’d fallen for—wanted to believe him.

This time, it felt real. It felt different. And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine that maybe, just maybe, it could be.

You took a deep, steadying breath. You took a step back, your gaze dropping to where Glen’s hands now held yours. His grip was firm but not forceful, a silent plea for you to trust him just one more time. You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“I’ll stay,” you said, the words trembling on your lips. Glen’s breath hitched, and you could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. “Just for the rest of the weekend. When we get back home... we’ll figure out what happens next.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost heartbreaking. His shoulders sagged, the tension visibly draining from his body as he nodded quickly. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s all I need right now. Just... thank you.”

You gave a small nod, unable to say anything more as you turned and made your way back to the balcony. The cool ocean breeze kissed your cheeks as you leaned over the railing, staring out at the endless expanse of water. The waves crashed softly against the shore, their rhythmic sound both soothing and haunting.

A moment later, you felt Glen step behind you. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the two of you stared out at the water in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of before—the heavy, suffocating kind that carried unspoken resentment. This was different. It was quiet, yes, but there was a sense of fragile peace in it. Like the storm that had been raging between you for so long had finally calmed, even if only for a moment.

“I love you,” Glen whispered, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the waves. But you did, and the words sent a fresh wave of emotion coursing through you.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into him as your hands moved to rest on top of his where they were wrapped around your waist. “I know,” you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go of the hurt, if only for a little while. You let yourself feel the weight of his arms around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the quiet sincerity in his voice.

As you stood there together, you thought back to that moment earlier in the day—standing alone, feeling the crushing weight of loneliness as you stared out at the beauty of this place. A mountain with a view, and yet, it had felt so empty.

But now, with Glen’s arms around you, it felt different. The view was still the same, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, the horizon painted in hues of gold and pink as the sun began its descent. But now, you weren’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to be.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 20 Finale

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation.

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

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`

I was vibrating with excitement and nerves. I wasn't going on stage, but I would be in backstage videos and photos, so I did get mild hair and makeup. The outfit they put me in matched my boys perfectly.

I was sitting in a green room with my Omegas going to and fro around me. Doing their own things to get ready both mentally and physically. Stretching, warming up, snacking, resting, chatting, and joking around. I was flushed with joy and having a blast.

I snapped photos and little videos on my phone and tablet cameras. They weren't nearly as good as my usual, but I still wanted to document and remember this day. This first concert with my Omegas. How much fun we were having even while everyone worked so hard. It was worth documenting, even at lower quality than usual.

We all quieted down when there was a knock on the door. Like we wanted to keep our joy and chaos for ourselves. Even if there was a backstage talker camera going around.

"Oh great! Thank you so much!" I heard Chris exclaim happily to the person at the door. It's his Australian accent that catches my attention since most the crew were still Korean speaking.

HE clicked the door shut again, a plain brown handled shopping bag in his hand. His eyes searched for and found me and he baby step beelined for me. I was sitting on a chair, Ayen sitting between my legs. The odd walk caught several others attention.

Lino straightened. "Did it arrive?" Chan nodded. "Just in time!" Lino sounded as excited as Chan looked. I was even more confused.

"What came?" I asked. I didn't know anyone ordered anything. Was it a food delivery?

Chan handed me the bag. "We got you something. I wasn't sure if it would be done before the concert started." He looked a little nervous now as all eight of them stopped what they were doing to watch me open my surprise.

Giving them one last suspicious look, I peeked into the bag, only to gasp in absolute shock. Slowly, reverently, I reached inside and pulled out my previously broken camera.

She looked better than she had in years, and I took great pride in taking care of her. Brand new shiny casing, broken lens and buttons replaced and policed enough to sparkle. Even the strap, which had been wearing down in some spots was reweaved and stitched. I was in awe.

"This is far too much! How did you even find someone to fix this in just a day?" My hands shook as I smoothed my fingers over the camera in worship. This was beyond anything I ever dared to even think about hoping for.

"We all pitched in. And manager found the camera shop." Lino said.

"It was worth every penny just to see this look on your face." Minnie teased with a small, sweet smile on his lips.

"We know how much the camera means to you. How much photography means." Ayen started, patting my thigh. He was twisted oddly in order to watch me. And you are so good at it. Honestly, your work is better than some of the big-name photographers to have worked with.

I half smiled at him. "Hardly but thank you. Thank you all so much." I bit my lip to keep from tearing up. "I am so glad I became your Alpha. Even if I was terrified through most of our journey so far."

"There is a catch to this gift, though." Felix announced.

"What's that?"

"You have to take our social media photos for the tour. We have a higher standard now that we have posted your photos." Hyunjin answered.

I huffed out a laugh, eyes tearing up, and nodded with a wobbly smile. "Of course. I'll be glad to." I whispered wetly.

"And y/n?" Han prompted.

I hummed in question, waiting for his answer expectantly.

"We are really glad you're our Alpha too. Our Unwilling Alpha. Perfect in every way." Bin answered.

~Fin~

A/N: Originally, I had the intention of writing the entire concert of their first stop on the mini tour. However, this organically came out, and it just felt like the ending as I was writing it. And I'm all for listening to my writing. It sometimes knows more than I do. So, it's short, but it feels like a natural ending to me, and hopefully to you too.

Thank you for riding this roller coaster with me, and I really hope you enjoyed this short little goofy take on A/B/O dynamics.

Ko-fi fund

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie @threeopossumsinacoat @katchowbbie @kkamismom12 @whoreforeverythingspice @alienbyhan @tinyelfperson @bitterbluemorningstar @jiniretsleftear

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

[faerybella219]

First night at Gale's Tower

@desertharper 's request

Oh, I just read yours the other night on AO3, great job! Could I possibly get Gal and a female elven sorcerer Tav post-game the night they arrive home to his tower? NSFW/SFW, your choice. I just love post-game interactions for the good endings. :)

Fun fact: I play BG3 on Xbox and I started on my old Microsoft account. For some reason, I got logged out/ got “hacked?” and had to delete my account with 200+ hours… I was at the Netherbrain guys!!! So I haven’t finished the game yet but I also love domestic post-game fics. My Bard R! Durge, Vivienne, (who I have posted on here)  is my current run to the finish. In act 3 once again! Anyway, here ya go. It’s like half headcanon half fiction. 

It is still a shock to both of your systems that you’re actually alive. You have defeated the netherbrain against all odds- the old-fashioned way. With swords, spells, and sweat. 

First, we all know Gale’s need to impress you. I imagine him trying to plan a seamless moving day- maybe casting a protective spell over your furniture/ items while they’re being moved into his tower. I can also see him fretting about his various delicate magical artifacts, which the movers seem to disregard! Much to his surprise, might he add, since his mother had suggested this company! Although he likely skips the movers altogether and has his simulacrums move you two in. Some jobs are better done yourself. 

While his simulacrums bring in your boxes/chests of your belongings, they don’t unpack them. He respects your privacy and knows you may be particular about your things. 

I can see things happening quickly after his proposal. The day you move in may be the same day you see his tower (haha) in person for the first time- your new home. 

You can’t help but be overwhelmed by a feeling similar to deja vu. It’s surreal and sort of familiar. You’ve technically been here before. Gale brought you here through the weave while on the road, and you seem magnetically drawn to the balcony. You remember sitting on this very balcony in the weave. Waterdeep’s ocean glitters before you, and you get lost staring into the soothing waves. 

Gale puts his head on the top of yours. His hands rest on the railing on either side of you. He buries his nose in your hair and pulls you close to him from behind. It’s finally happening. It’s finally real. The peace you feel in this moment- hopeful, content, and unbelieving- it’s what makes your journey worth it. 

Turning around in his embrace, you hug him too tight and he makes a groan of strain and laughter. His classic old man noises. You could get used to those.  

Taking his face in your hands, you see joy brimming in his eyes. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. Gale Dekarios- the wizard of intentionally limited renown is all yours for years to come.

He will likely insist unpacking can wait, it’s your first night together in your new home.

I have no doubt he will take you on a tour of the place, including special spaces he has saved for you/ your interests. You like to craft/crochet/sew? He has a craft room set up. What is his is yours. He knows you will handle his artifacts with care and if you are a sorcerer he will encourage you to bring yours and combine your collection. He has a section of his library saved for whatever literature you might want to add, and a section of what he recommends for you specifically- available for you to pick up at any time. 

Overenthusiastic is an understatement. But he tries to play it lighthearted to not overwhelm you. 

You cook dinner together in your new kitchen. You kiss in your new kitchen. He’s not a good dancer but is so overjoyed by you being here with him that he brings you close to sway. 

When it’s time for bed you notice he ordered a second nightstand for your side of the bed. In the drawer is something special and thoughtful, whether it's a chocolate you like or a book. Maybe it’s a solvent for some ailment that has been bothering you. He will remind you to put it on every night. 

I can see the night being with or without sex. I can picture him lying in bed and staring into your eyes, just treasuring your presence in his bed. There will be a thousand nights in the future for sex. Although, I can see the night needing a physical commemoration as well! It all depends on what your vibe is.

When you wake, you have tender good mornings with sleepy, rasping voices. He pulls you close, onto his chest as he praises the rest of your days together. He cooks you breakfast, and you two spend the rest of your second day unpacking your belongings and creating your shared home. 

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Pure passion and savoring each other. The sex is emotional and slow. 

Tonight marks the rest of your lives coexisting and living together. You’re having milestone sex. This is no quickie. This is body worship, treasuring each other’s lives, and pure love and devotion. 

You kiss until your lips feel plump, your tongues tangle until you’re wet. Only when you’re squirming does he move south.

Gale uses every kiss as a landmark. He kisses your forehead, cheeks, down your neck- his hands are grasping and caressing anywhere he can reach. 

His hold on you is strong. Hands grip your waist as he devours you. He doesn’t want it to end. He teases you until you beg for release, and once you orgasm you can’t stop. He doesn’t let you get away with less than 3 before the night ends. 

When he fucks you it's languid and deep. His hard cock drags against your walls in a pull so delicious it's torture. Slow tenderness eventually turns to rapid passion as he gives in to his desires. 

You two are moaning and crying out into the night air as he pounds into you. Your grip on him is tight as your mouths and hips move in synch. 

You wake up with little marks over your chest, although you never remember him being rough. 

[universalzones]

"Guess it would make things easier if one know how Gaia Gifts worked, though my dad used to say sometimes you might not like the answer." Twist was sure they could be any number of reasons, though that included ones that weren't ideal. The lemur was sure there are people still trying to figure out, though that was their choice. He was fine with not knowing nor did he intend to try and find out.

Twist would follow Dawn to where they were taking care of the injured. "We should try to move everyone we can. My contacts said they want to do an investigation so that means The Restoration will have to be shut down for a bit. Clearly they won't do that with people still hurt." The lemur did know they'd be a bit pushy so best to try and get as many out as possible.

===========================================================

"I would certainly hope so seeing as I sentenced them to be your personal bodyguards, though I suppose that shall have to wait." Yara was sure it'd be better that Rough and Tumble not attend the talk with President Thawne until he can clear everything with G.U.N. "In the meantime I suppose I shall get whatever information these two have on Clutch as I'm sure G.U.N will see that as a fair trade off." The royal was sure it'd be an easy deal to manage.

"Geez, now we gotta remember all those dumb orders and anything we saw." Rough's memory has never been the best when it came to certain things. Anything boring he didn't pay too much attention to, and the long orders were just hard for him to remember everything. Though the skunk couldn't recall anything too odd other than the scheme to get rid of The Restoration.

"Well, he didn't really say anything worth of note when we were around, and we did the normal grunt work. I suppose the only thing I find odd was him wanting us to take all of The Restorations cash. Clean Sweep made a lot of money, and there were easier ways to get The Restoration to go out of business." Tumble wondered why he wanted them to take the money they made.

"Good luck trying to figure out what these two morons know, if anything at all. We gotta jet." Surge would grab Jewel's shoulder and then dashed off. It didn't take the tenrec long to find the entrance back into The Restoration from the sewer. After that it was just a matter of dashing all the way to the command center. Which was done in a matter of seconds as the speedster came sliding to a stop. "If you gotta throw up, then do it now." She stopped at the door to the command center.

It was no surprise to dawn that Twist struggled to understand a gift of gaia. It wasn't really something most mobians thought about at least not the why. most just accepted that some of them were born special, and gifted. To some it was being touched by light gaia and to others it was thought to be a curse of Dark Gaia. Still many more informed thought was simple mutation but, the truth was no body really knew. Mobians were just born gifted, or curse and had to live with there abilities. Dawn never believed for a second it was worth thinking to deeply on.

" hah! no problem, honestly i wish i knew the real reason but ya know my ma' use to say--- some mysteries in life are meant to stay a mystery. Now go clean your room! "

Her duplicate smiled as she lead twist down the hall to the triage wing where many of the worse injuries were being kept. Lots of duplicates rushed around with carts and first aid kits trying to care for many patients.

" Yea, Capitalism is always a drag... But i bet there is some program to help out. Well anyway it was just a thought..."

Her ear twitched at the mention of watching someone lose an arm and being fine. She had to endure such wounds during the war, and while her duplicates tended to disappear when suffered major injury. She still had vivid memories of getting sliced up, crushed, or maimed during the war. It didn't leave a mark on the real dawn but the mental trauma of enduring was everlasting mark on her psyche.

" Here we are... come on let's get these folks patched up... and ready for transfer to GUN's facility. Least the ones we can move! "

=============================================

In truth Jewel didn't know much about Yara's family but they did have a well known reputation concerning thieves. Made her wonder if that's how he lost his tail, or if he was born that way. She just hoped the prince would treat them well and not be to hard on them. She made a mental note to check up on them later. though Surge's report did seem to worry her to no end. Why was GUN being so cruel? she'd always had goo report with Mr. Tower, and now this?

" I See... that's still concerning. Thank you Surge for the update. Also thank you again Highness... your talents are still most welcome. But i did mean what i said. I expect you to treat the boys well... i'll be checking on them to insure they aren't mistreated in the days ahead...everyone deserves a chance at redemption after all."

She turned to Surge and buzzed up to eye level as she felt it helped her seem more commanding.

" Surge i need you to get me back to command as soon as possible. I can't help but feel my place is in the command center with the others. With things feeling a bit dire... i need to try and contact General Tower and see what is actually going on... i can't believe he'd authorize a move like this..."

[hugmekenobi]

I Do

A Bad Batch Post S3 Oneshot

Gif by @barissoffee

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Summary: Your wedding day finally arrives

Playlist for inspo:

Warnings: Limited (Y/N), swearing, reader nickname of 'Spark' and 'sweetheart' is used, wedding traditions mentioned and applied, my interpretation of the Force, my limited wedding ceremony knowledge, references to past torture and death, vague references to alcohol/hangovers, limited wedding dress description, LOTS of fluff and feelings, I make up a mission plan, kissing, for the sake of the plot they can leave Pabu safely, SMUT (dirty talk and innuendo, marking, reader wears lingerie, light body worship with mentions of scars, use of a toy, teasing, brief edging, light marriage kink if that's a thing?, switch reader and Hunter, unprotected P in V but let's be safe irl please!) mildly bittersweet ending

<Previous Oneshot (not totally necessary to read but helpful for build up)

Masterlist for S1, S2 and S3

Word Count: 13.4K

Rating: 18+

Author's note: Well, the state of the world is concerning and pretty depressing rn but in a bizarre way, it acted as that final motivator to finally finish because I wanted to focus on something that brings me joy. So, with that, I hope everyone is doing okay and that this was worth the wait!

“How did it go?” Hunter asked as he entered your living room just as you finished your call with Jax.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your brothers right now?” You asked instead.

“I convinced them to come get me later. How did it go?” He asked again, unwilling to let you change the subject so easily. 

You heaved a sigh and shrugged as you slouched against the couch and fidgeted with your ring. “Fine? I think? I don’t know, I feel like I’m just making this up as I go. I guided him through the ways meditation can help him if he starts to lose focus, or things feel out of control, but I have no idea if that’ll be helpful.”

“It sounds like good advice.” Hunter replied whilst he put his stuff down. 

You grunted, “I don’t know that it’s fair for me to preach the benefits of meditation when all I’ve done with it has come up with a whole lot of nothing.”

“Still nothing from your master since Christophsis?” Hunter asked sympathetically as he sat down beside you. 

You nodded dejectedly. “There’s just nothing there. I know that it was a long time ago and we had Tantiss to deal with, so I wasn’t as on top of it as I used to be, but I thought Christophsis opened some sort of door.” You breathed heavily and leaned against his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

“You’re awfully down for someone getting married in two days.” 

You snapped your head up and stared at the ghost ahead of you but also tugged on Hunter’s sleeve. “You’re seeing this too, right?” You double checked as you saw the face of your master staring at you with a smile on his face.

Hunter found himself going back into autopilot and his days as a soldier because he immediately stood to attention as he clocked the pale blue figure.

“At ease, Sergeant. No need for such formalities and with the war being over and me being dead, it’s not like I could write you up.” Your master said to the clone at your side. 

“I- um- right.” Hunter stammered because now he had no idea how he was supposed to act or behave when speaking to someone from the dead. Never mind the fact that this was your old Jedi Master. He relaxed his posture, but only slightly because he still had no clue what to make of this entire situation. 

“Hello, Spark.”

“That’s all you have to say?” You questioned the ghostly blue figure with a frown. 

“I believe that to still be the appropriate greeting.” 

“I don’t understand this. You can really show up that easily?”

“When the need arises, yes.”

You let out a laugh that was void of positive emotion. 

“I’m sensing some rising anger, Spark.”

“No shit!” You shouted in irritation. 

“Spark…” Your master said with a tired sigh. 

“I’ve been meditating for months, and you’ve been a no show all this time! I was taken prisoner and tortured and you weren’t any help!”  

“An awful feat to endure but you haven’t needed me. You relied on your training and sense of self; you didn’t need me there to bring you back.”

“I almost didn’t! I nearly gave up on Tantiss!”

“Dwelling on the almost helps no one, you did not and that’s the outcome that matters. If you had needed me, I would’ve provided my assistance but there’s never been an opportunity or requirement for that in the recent times.”

He sounded so unapologetically himself and like the master you’d studied under that you couldn’t help but let the initial anger you’d been feeling over this leave your body. “Hey, there was a perfect opportunity for you to show up a month ago! Technically, I died! A few times I might add!” You pointed out. 

“You sound a little too delighted by that.” Hunter grumbled.

“You were nowhere to be found!” You continued to be disgruntled. 

“Please, I know you’re far too stubborn to die at the hands of a bounty hunter.” Your master said dismissively.  

You gave up with a sigh, “So, why are you here now?” You asked instead since you realised you were going to get nowhere disputing the past with him. 

Your master nodded to Hunter. “I wanted to formally meet the man who pulled you away from your Jedi teachings.” He said sternly. 

Hunter’s eyes widened in distress. “I didn’t- it wasn’t- sir, I didn’t mean to-” He stuttered in a panic. 

“Surely you understand how encouraging such serious attachment from someone in her position is dangerous?”

Hunter couldn’t calm his ever-increasing alarm. A Force ghost appearing suddenly felt so small compared to what he was having to argue with said ghost about. “Sir, I’d never risk- I don’t- when we happened I-” He was scrambling to find anything that would reassure the man, but he was failing miserably. 

You shook your head in disapproval at your master who now had a rather pleased smile on his face, “Would you stop torturing him? Talking to Force ghosts is already hard enough for someone not used to it.” You gently pulled on Hunter’s hand, “My love, sit down.”

Hunter dazedly sat down beside you.

“And remember to breathe.” You prompted him quietly as you patted his knee before you glared at your master, “Are you done?”

Your master chuckled, “I couldn’t help myself, but yes, I am. Although I did want to meet you, Sergeant. I wanted to know more about you if you’re amenable to that?” 

“Y-yes, sir.” Hunter collected himself as he straightened his shoulders and awaited the questions. 

“You led a small squad during the war did you not? You and your brothers were made to be different from the other clones and battalions that existed during that time?” 

“That’s correct, sir.” 

“But you made a habit of deviating from standard protocols and orders? You never considered that to be a reckless course of action to take?”

Hunter sensed you getting ready to defend him, but he placed his hand on yours to signal that he was fine. “Yes, sir, but with respect, that’s why we were as successful as we were. Our unique skill sets made it that going against the usual procedures was better for us and the war effort.”

Your master nodded appreciatively over the honesty in the clone’s voice. “And you understand the added responsibility you’re taking on with having a Jedi in your life and as your partner? You are aware of the risks that will remain in place for you and your squad even with this home you’ve created?”

“I understand it, sir, but it never felt like extra responsibility to me. I look after my people the best I can, I always have, and she was a part of our squad and family long before my feelings developed into what they are now. Making the choice to stand by her despite the dangers it comes with was simple.”

“I see. And what about-”

“Okay, what is this?” You interrupted, “You’re dead, and I stopped being your student years ago. You don’t get to approve or disapprove-”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, Spark. The mere fact that you’ve been seeking that connection with the techniques I passed on shows that our relationship has not ended. And yes, I may have become one with the Force but that doesn’t mean I stopped being your teacher- dead or not, there’s always a lesson to be learnt. Something you should keep in mind since you’re on your way to becoming a teacher yourself.” 

You suddenly felt rather bashful as you heard the hint of pride in his voice, “I’m not really doing anything.”

“You’re doing far more than you realise and I’m not solely referring to those children you rescued. That young girl you’re raising is going to do great things.” Your master complimented you both.

“We know.” Hunter agreed. 

The soft change in Hunter’s voice and the fondness in which he said that and made your heart soar with affection. 

Your master smiled warmly as he saw the unfiltered emotion written across your face as you looked at the man by your side and he knew there was nothing dangerous or wrong about the feelings you had for him. He addressed Hunter once more, “I just have one last question…” 

Hunter braced himself. 

“Do you love her?”

Now that was something he could answer very easily. “Yes, I do.”

“Good.” Your master said with a nod of approval before he turned to face you again. “I wish you both a happy future and Spark, remember, you don’t need to see me to feel me with you.” Your master reminded you before he faded away.

“Spark?” Hunter asked with a curious look in your direction. 

“Do you want the embarrassing or the more emotional answer?” You replied lightly. 

But before Hunter could reply, Wrecker came barging through the door.

“Time’s up! Get moving!”

You caught the look of dread on Hunter’s face. “You’re going to have fun.” You said through a laugh as you both got to your feet. 

“Remind me why I can’t just stay here? Your plans for tonight sound relaxing.” Hunter pleaded jokingly. 

“Because we don’t want you here, Bandana.” Phee responded with mock seriousness, “This night is for us girls only. You’ve got your own thing.”

“Right, how could I forget.” He replied with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening.” Hunter promised you, hoping he slipped it subtly enough into the goodbyes that it would go unnoticed. 

You’re not that lucky. You said with a grin as you noticed Omega’s look of horror.

“Nu uh! Wedding tradition number three states that it’s bad luck to see the bride the day of the wedding so you can’t stay the night tomorrow!” Omega insisted as she yanked on Hunter’s arm to take her place next to you instead whilst Phee and Lyra pushed past the rest of the men to join you in the living room. 

Tech tapped on his datapad. “Yes, the schedule for the next two nights and two days sees to it that proceedings begin with Phee, Omega and Lyra staying here whilst we go to Shep’s to pick him up before leaving on Phee’s ship to-”

“Celebrate tonight! Recover tomorrow! Celebrate again!” Wrecker bellowed merrily. “It’s really not that complicated, Tech.” 

“Yet you still got confused the first time we were planning this.” Crosshair pointed out wryly as he chewed on a toothpick. 

“Not my fault! Shep brought out a plate of dessert when Tech was figuring out the days, I was distracted!” Wrecker said defensively but with a smile on his face. 

“I still don’t understand why you planned it this close to the actual ceremony.” Echo pointed out. 

“With those two wanting to hurry things along, our timeline got rather rushed.” Tech replied. 

“Sorry for not wanting to give the next bounty hunter another chance to ruin things.” You joked.

“Or an Imperial invasion.” Omega added.

“Or the chance for (Y/N) to get herself killed.” Crosshair piled on but his tone was laced with familial teasing as he looked at you.

“Hey!” You protested indignantly. “The more recent ones have not been my fault.”

“Crosshair…” Hunter scolded as he moved his way around Omega and instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Thought I was helping.” He said with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Your definition of ‘help’ should be re-examined.” Tech interjected as he adjusted his goggles.  

“Well, point made anyway.” Echo acknowledged with a slight grimace.

“Great, now that that’s settled, let’s go!” Wrecker demanded again as he reached for Hunter. 

Hunter gave you one last desperate look. “You’re really forcing me to do this?” He feigned needing to be rescued as his brother pulled him into the group. 

“I’m not doing anything, you’re the one that let Tech give Omega the list of readings about all the different wedding traditions that exist in the galaxy.” You pointed out with a smirk as you warmly rested your hands on the young girl’s shoulders whilst she stood in front of you. 

“Yes! This is tradition number seven!” Omega said excitedly as she pulled up the various files that she’d pulled on the subject and recited, “Bachelor parties and bachelorette parties are iconic pre-wedding celebrations that mark the end of singledom for soon-to-be-weds.” She waved the datapad in Hunter’s direction. “You can’t argue with that.”

“No, I suppose I can’t.” Hunter replied through a sigh, but he wasn’t referring to the information as he smiled at the young girl.

“It’s not like spending time apart will kill you.” Lyra added absentmindedly as she got to work on unpacking the supplies for your night here. 

The room went silent as you all turned to stare at her. 

“Okay, that was a bad choice of words,” Lyra acknowledged sheepishly, “But you know what I mean!”

You chuckled before you noticed the impatient way Wrecker was bouncing on his heels. “Okay, time to go.” You ushered them out but caught Hunter’s wrist just as he was leaving. You went to kiss him but before he could help close the gap, Crosshair pulled on his arm. “If I’m going to throw up tonight, it’s going to be during the party, not before.” He said in faux disgust.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” Hunter conceded as he shoved Crosshair away in a brotherly fashion. “See you in two days?” He asked you by way of farewell.

“See you in two days.” You confirmed with a mildly nervous but excited smile. You waved them off before you shut the door and accepted the drink from Lyra as your lovely night of rest and relaxation got underway.

--

The sound of your comm chirping woke you up from your peaceful slumber.

“Morning.”

“Good morning.” You teased as you heard the pained rasp in his voice. 

“No, it’s not.” Hunter grumbled.

“You sound like a ball of energy.” You quipped and the only reply you got was a disgruntled huff and it made you smile to yourself. “Sooo, how was your night?”

“I haven’t celebrated like that since our days as a fresh squad during the war. I don’t know how we did it.” Hunter responded with a weary sigh. 

“And here I thought you were trying to be sensible.” You taunted. 

“Somewhere between Tech insisting that he could make Crosshair a hand and trying to steal Echo’s to prove it whilst Wrecker kept trying to get the bartender to give us free drinks by challenging him to an arm wrestle and Shep lamenting over what’ll happen when Lyana gets married, I gave up.” Hunter through a groan.

You laughed, “Kinda wish I’d been there to see that. But how are your senses holding up? Your headache isn’t too painful, is it?” You asked with more genuine concern.

“I’m fine, this is nothing too overwhelming, I’ll be okay in a few hours.” Hunter reassured you. 

“Promise?”

“I promise. I knew what I was doing last night.” 

“Okay, good. And you had fun?” You double checked.

“Yes, I did.” Hunter admitted. 

“Omega will be delighted by that. I think she enjoyed this part of the wedding planning quite a bit.”

“Your night was good too then?”

“It was a nice time! We just chatted and ate good food- it was all very calm and fun. We all turned in at a reasonable hour. Oh, and Omega finally got permission from Lyra to see my dress, so she was very excited by that.”

“Sure, Omega’s allowed to see it.” Hunter grumbled with light-hearted seriousness. “Remind me why we let this tradition slide through?”

“Because the argument about an ex-Jedi marrying a genetically enhanced clone being about as untraditional as we could get was hard to dispute so we’re making up for it where we can and keeping the reveal until the day of falls into that category according to Omega.”

“Right,” Hunter griped, “I should’ve fought harder.”

“You have one more 24 hour wait.” You reminded him with a loving but exasperated sigh. 

“It’s not been as easy as it sounds. You’ve been overly secretive and non-informative about it for weeks now. Having the answer to my curiosity tucked away in our closet and being banned by every single person from seeing it has been a challenge; you do realise that?”

“Yes, because I live to torture you.” You said, playing into his dramatics.

“I can feel your eyes rolling.”

“Look, in all fairness, Lyra only finally decided she was finished with it a week ago. And of all the wedding traditions we’re doing, this is one I kinda like keeping. Besides, you’re getting your first dance tradition which is the one part of this whole thing I’m dreading.” You said lightly. 

“Hmm, that’s true. And I hear marriage is all about compromise.” Hunter said playfully.

“Exactly. This is just good practice.” You replied jokingly.

Hunter chuckled softly over the comm, “Well, I can hear the pained groans of the others so they’re waking up now, so I better go. I love you.”

“I love you too. Safe flight back.” You signed off and breathed deeply as you realised that after today, the day you’d been waiting for was almost here. 

--

Time passed by in a blur and before you knew it, you were waking up with the nervous butterflies in your stomach that signalled what was happening at sunset today. 

You had barely opened your eyes when your door burst open, and a bundle of blonde hair and excitement joined by a ball of fur were jumping on your bed and clambering in next to you.

“It’s wedding day! It’s finally time!”

“Are you sure?” You double checked teasingly as you pretended to pull your covers back and over your head.

“Yes!” Omega tugged on them and insistently shoved your shoulder. “You need to get up!” She whistled to Batcher and pointed to you. 

“I’m up, I’m up.” You said through a laugh as you avoided Batcher’s enthusiastic kisses and got vertical. “But you can relax, Omega, we have ages.” 

“Not according to my schedule.” Omega propped herself on her knees as she revealed her datapad and showed it to you. 

You scanned the list as you absentmindedly stroked Batcher’s side. “Okay that all looks good but what is that?” You indicated to the words with your name and ‘panic’ written side by side.

“My research said it is highly likely that a ‘freak out’ will occur once the time of the ceremony arrives, no matter how sure your feelings are. I’m just leaving it in as an option.” She said casually. 

“I’m not going to freak out,” You insisted, “I’m perfectly fine.”

“For now…”

“Omega!” You gasped in faux offence. 

“And, now you know there’s time if or when you need to.” She replied with coy indifference. 

“Seems like you’ve got this all figured out.” You observed with a smile.

“Tech and I coordinated so he’s keeping Hunter on track,” She told you proudly, “And don’t worry, his panic time is longer than yours.” 

“Great.” You replied dryly. 

She clapped her hands together, “Now, you can have fifteen minutes to yourself while I go get breakfast started.”

“Alright, you’re in charge, Omega.” You said fondly as she tossed her arms around you and squeezed you tight before hopping off the bed to signal it was time for the preparations to get underway. 

--

“You’re getting married today!” Lyra squealed in delight as soon as you opened the door.

“So, everyone keeps telling me.” You kidded as you stepped aside to let her and Phee in. 

“Right on time.” Omega stated with a satisfied nod as she came out of her room. 

“Between you and brown eyes, it would be impossible not to be.” Phee commented with a smile. 

“You all look great!” You said warmly as you took them all in and your heart swelled as you saw Omega in particular. She was growing up every day before your very eyes and it was both terrifying but beautiful. 

“Hush, we are not the focus here. Come on, let’s get you ready!” Lyra started shoving you towards your bedroom.

--

“Oh, this turned out better than I imagined!” Lyra said with a misty-eyed smile, “Phee, Omega, get in here!” She called out as she dabbed away the tears and re-opened your bedroom door. 

“You look amazing!” Omega cried joyously. 

“Okay, so can I look yet?” You asked nervously in response to Omega’s words and elated gasp and Phee’s wide smile. 

“Go ahead!” Lyra said excitedly. 

You took a deep breath and turned around to face the mirror in your room and you scarcely recognised the person staring back at you. You’d never been allowed to see this dress aside from getting a gauge of how it looked on you and even when it was done, you’d only seen how it had looked hanging up. 

This was the first time you’d been able to see it properly and it took your breath away. 

The silhouette complimented your body perfectly, the fabric was light enough for the Pabu climate but what really got to you was- as you angled yourself to see all side of it- the way the rays of late afternoon sunlight hit it and the tiny crystals scattered around the bodice and skirt glimmered a subtle red that matched a shade you were all too familiar with. “Lyra… it’s- I can’t believe- I don’t know what to say… it’s beautiful.” You said breathlessly. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“I know.” She said, equally emotionally over seeing you in this. “Worth every hour of each day, the late nights and prick of a needle.” 

You laughed, “I’m glad.”

“Hunter won’t know what hit him when he sees you in this.” Lyra added as she couldn’t help herself and started adjusting bits and pieces of your ensemble. 

“Your dress is something new, the necklace from Lyra is your something borrowed. We’re missing your something old and something blue but that’s okay.” Omega said as she checked off the list.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, kid.” Phee said smugly as she went to her stuff and brought out a small, wrapped box and handed it to you.

“What is this?” You said in confusion as you took the package from her but the familiar thrumming in your veins that you sensed as you held it got your heart practically started beating out your chest. With shaky hands, you opened it and inhaled sharply, “Phee… how did you- where did you find this?”

“Liberator of ancient wonders, remember? The people I got it from had already scrapped the hilt so couldn’t get all of it but figured this was the important thing.” Phee said kindly. 

“What is it?” Lyra asked curiously as she took it from you and tied it around your wrist.

“Something from my Jedi days.” You breathed as your blue kyber crystal hung delicately from the leather band. The comfort and familiarity it brought calmed your ever-increasing nerves as you realised it was almost time to go. “Thank you, Phee.”

Phee dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Tech helped me track it down.”

You were overwhelmed by the kindness that had been shown to you and the occasion of it all, but for once, it wasn’t a bad feeling. It only cemented how certain your feelings were and how sure you were that you wanted to do this, but you were only human, and the butterflies refused to die down. 

“Still fine?” Omega asked quietly. 

“Still fine.” You confirmed with a smile as you exhaled deeply to settle your nerves.

“Knew you would be.” Omega said as she wrapped her arms around your waist. 

“Okay, come on. I have to do a few touch ups.” Lyra said. 

“Lyra…” You groaned in an exaggerated fashion. 

“Don’t question me.” She said firmly as she guided you back to your room.

--

“It’s time to go.” Omega announced.

“Okay, okay I’m done!” Lyra said with a satisfied nod as she finished off. 

You took a deep breath as you got to your feet, but you smiled when you saw a familiar person standing ahead of you.

You playfully wolf whistled as you saw the lean figure standing in your living room donned in an all-black suit and tie. As always, Lyra knew what she was doing. “Looking sharp, Crosshair.”

Crosshair’s eyes widened slightly as he saw you step out before he gathered himself and hummed, “Not bad.”

“Not bad?” Lyra repeated with exasperated disdain. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m not the one marrying her.” Crosshair said with a shrug. 

“I’ll take it.” You said with a fond shake of your head. 

“Where are my credits?” Omega enquired gleefully as she bounded over to the clone. 

“Credits?” You repeated. 

“There may have been a wager on whether or not you would need the time to panic about today.” Omega revealed awkwardly. 

“You bet on us?” You said through a huff of laughter. 

“Omega was the only one that thought neither of you would if that helps.” Crosshair grumbled as he handed her the amount that she was due.

The fact Hunter hadn’t panicked either went a long way to steadying your nerves. “I guess?” You rolled your eyes and let it go because you honestly should’ve expected something like that from them before you realised you didn’t actually know why Crosshair had shown up, “Why are you here, though? Shouldn’t you be with Hunter right now?”

“The kid said you needed someone to walk you down.” Crosshair said airily.  

You narrowed your eyes at him before you asked Omega in confusion, “Thought Hunter was going to have all his brothers with him so we decided that I could walk myself?”

“You did, I didn’t. With Wrecker as best man, Echo as the officiant and Tech as the ring holder and creator, we had a role for Crosshair that wasn’t just groomsman.”

“So, I’ve been forced into this.” Crosshair pretended to be put out. 

But Omega wasn’t going to let him off that easily. “You volunteered!” She reminded him. “And you offered long before Hunter had even decided who was doing what.”

Crosshair sighed and glared at the young girl, “Thought we agreed to keep that between us.”

“Whoops.” Omega replied with a mischievous grin. 

“Aww Crosshair…” You teased lovingly as you made your way over to him. 

“I’ll take it back. I swear, I’ll walk out of here and you can forget about it.” Crosshair warned but he met your embrace. 

Thank you. You said as you hugged him. 

“Well, you’re family, it’s just how it goes.” Crosshair replied quietly before he released you. “Now, let’s get out of here so you can put my brother’s and I out of our misery.” 

“Thought you said he hadn’t freaked out today?” You asked distractedly, missing the pluralisation as you fiddled with your skirt. 

“He hasn’t. We just had to watch him pine over you for months on end. Today will finally bring an end to it.” Crosshair stated as he offered you his arm. 

You clued in then, “Oh, so this is as much for you as it is for us?” You kidded as you looped your arm through his. 

“Definitely.” Crosshair answered with a smirk before the group of you left to finally get things underway. 

With your entourage and family by your side as you made your way down to the beach, you finally started to feel calm and ready for this next stage in your life. 

--

Hunter, on the other hand, couldn't have calmed down if he tried. Sure, he’d disappointed his brothers in that he’d kept it together the entire day but that didn’t mean the nerves weren’t there. 

He stood restlessly at the end of the aisle, the emotions of the occasion combining into a perfect storm of nerves and excitement as he waited for you. 

Finally, the crowds had quieted down, and the overall feeling of bated breath from everyone around him told him that he wouldn't have to wait for much longer.

--

“Just don’t let me trip, Crosshair.” You requested through an unsteady exhale as the time arrived for you to make your way down the wooden platform that had been made to keep you from stepping on the uneven sand.

“Wouldn’t that be funny though?” 

You shot him a look. 

“Not a chance.” Crosshair reassured you sincerely.

With his nod of encouragement, you started to walk. 

--

As he caught the change in expression on his brothers’ faces, Hunter finally turned around to see you and his breath caught in his throat. Every anticipatory worry and nerve swiftly disappeared, and it made him feel rather light-headed which, mixed with how enthralled by the sight of you he was, made for an inconvenient combination. If it weren’t for Wrecker’s subtle act of support to prop him back up, he was certain that he would’ve staggered backwards. 

And as he realised what you making your way to him finally meant, he felt tears threaten to blur his vision and while he didn’t mind the display of emotion, he’d be damned if they were going to take away a single second of the breathtaking image of you walking towards him. He hastily wiped his eyes and collected himself. 

It was then he caught the way the sun hit the scattered jewels on your dress, and he saw the colour that reflected off of them. He darted his gaze over to Lyra who only offered him a smug smile and friendly wink before looking back at you.

--

Sure, the sunset was gorgeous and added a stunning golden backdrop as the beams of light reflected off the turquoise ocean water but as far as you were concerned, the background view was secondary to the one you cared about and that was the man standing ahead of you who was wearing the same black suit as the rest of his brothers but wearing it in a way that made your skin warm and your heart skip a beat. 

Everyone else faded away, your only focus was on the man in front of you and you’d never felt more ready for this next stage.

--

It felt like forever before you finally reached the end of the platform and into the waiting arms of the man you’d been waiting for your whole life. 

Crosshair smiled at the two of you before he handed you off and took his place next to his brothers. 

You passed your bouquet to Omega who hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d seen you this morning. 

Hi. You said with a loving grin. Was it worth the secrecy?

Hunter could only nod dumbly before he searched for words to actually articulate himself. “You- you- look-” Hunter swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried again, “You look beautiful.” He murmured quietly as he stroked his thumb across the backs of your hands. 

So do you. You comfortingly squeezed his in return as you felt the slight tremble in his grip. 

Hunter released a steadying breath as he let your touch ground him. 

“You two ready?” Echo asked quietly.

You both nodded and waited as Echo got the ceremony underway. 

--

“And now it’s time for the vows. Hunter, are you okay to start?” Echo double checked. 

Hunter nodded and, despite the butterflies in his stomach, this was the one part of today that he’d always been ready for. He exhaled steadily and started, “I was made for war. That’s all I knew, and I thought that was going to be my purpose for the rest of my life. I didn’t know any better and I didn’t think there was anything more I should look for. Then you came along, and everything changed. I suddenly realised that life didn’t have to be about living from one battle to the next, there was room for much more than that and you were the one I’d been waiting to have that with. And as much as I tried to deny myself those feelings in the beginning, I quickly realised that there’d never been a more pointless exercise than that. I’ve been yours for a long time, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You can ask any one of our brothers and they’ll tell you the same thing. The fact that I argued against them for so long was probably far more stressful or frustrating than any battle.” 

You glanced at Echo who dipped his head affirmatively before you looked past Hunter’s shoulder to see the grinning and nodding faces from the rest of his brothers. You brought your sights back to Hunter with a bright smile. 

Hunter returned your grin before he carried on, “We’ve been through and survived a lot, perhaps too much, but we always found a way through it. And, although I wished they never had to happen in the first place, they reminded me of how much time we lost refusing to allow ourselves the reality of what this was, and I never want to do that again. We can’t get back the wasted months, but from this point on, I promise not to waste another moment with you. No matter what, you will have me by your side, whatever you need, whatever forever means for us, you’ll have it. I love you. I always have and I always will.”

You’d kept it together up until now but after that, after seeing the emotions behind his eyes and hearing the love and sincerity in his voice, your own body started to shake with emotion. You didn’t know how you were going to find the composure to speak. 

Hunter picked up on that and he took a closer step towards you. He cupped your cheek and nodded reassuringly as he waited patiently for you to go. “It’s just us here,” He whispered, “Take your time.”

You breathed deeply as you settled yourself. And with Hunter’s encouraging gaze and touch as your anchor, you were ready. “Before I left the Jedi Order, I thought I knew what family was but even when I was there, surrounded by people like me, I always knew there was something missing, but I was always taught to not seek something more out, to not pursue or let those feelings take a hold of me. And even though I argued against it, I still lived my life that way. So, when I decided to leave, I thought being on my own was the answer, that if I would be saving myself a lot of hurt and I wouldn’t have the disappointment of failing to find what I was searching for. Then I met you-” You paused for a second, “And Hunter, you shifted my world. Gravity was no longer my centre; it was all you. There was a time where feeling that way terrified me. I thought it was wrong, that it was a way to a darker path, so I kept trying to distance myself from it, but it was impossible because, no matter how hard I searched for it, there was never any darkness when it came to how I felt about you. You’ve always been my light, even when I didn’t realise it, you brought me back to life and showed me a different way to exist. I knew you were the person I’d been waiting for. You talk about how obvious your feelings were to the people around you, trust me when I say that you weren’t alone. Your brothers didn’t let me off the hook when it came to you either and I don’t even mind admitting now that they were so obviously right.” You added light-heartedly which got a hum of laughter from both Hunter and everyone else. You carried on more seriously into your last part, “I love you, Hunter, I love your kindness, your compassion, your strength. With every fibre of my being, I love you. I can’t wait for the future we’re going to have together. I’m yours too, I always have been. Whatever this next part in our life sees, I promise that I won’t ever stop loving you. You have my heart, my support, and that won’t ever change.” You promised through a choked breath as your feelings threatened to overwhelm you. 

Hunter felt his heart tighten in his chest as your words hit him and now, he was finding himself looking forward to the next part getting wrapped up because every irritating second, he spent not married or closer to you was getting harder to patiently ignore.  

Echo found himself getting affected by the occasion and emotions of the two of you so he quickly cleared his throat and got onto the next part, “Hunter, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Hunter said and he’d never felt more certain in his words as he accepted one of the rings from Tech tenderly placed it on your finger.

Wrecker and Lyra both wiped tears away from their eyes. 

“And (Y/N), do you take Hunter to be your husband for as long as you both shall live?” Echo asked. 

“I do.” You said as well, and you’d never felt more at peace than you did after saying that phrase. You took the gold ring from Tech to place on Hunter’s finger and it was then you noticed a small 99 and your lightsaber hilt had been engraved on the band. You looked to Tech who simply offered a nod and a warm smile. 

Hunter impatiently looked at Echo as you let his hand go. 

“Go ahead.” Echo said with an affectionate eye roll. 

The two of you didn’t hesitate. Hunter cradled your jaw and kissed you within an instant and you needed no prompting to press yourself against him. You flung your arms around his neck as the two of you shared in a short but passionate embrace while the whoops and cheers of the crowd sounded around you and somewhere in between Echo officially announced the two of you. 

When you pulled apart, you were instantly embraced by your family and the seven of you shared in the moment before you and Hunter led the way back down the aisle and to Upper Pabu. 

--

The walk up to the colonnade was one that felt remarkably serene and calming since the citizens of Pabu had laid petals from the Maya tree on the ground in preparation for your ascent. 

“Any regrets?” Hunter whispered into your hair as he kept you tight to his side as the two of you walked. 

Not a single one. You said emphatically as the two of you reached the top and shared in one more kiss before the band started playing and the celebrations could officially begin. 

--

The after party was well under way and you and Hunter were doing your part to speak to and thank as many people as you could. 

“Congratulations you two!”

“Thank you, Shep.” You replied warmly as you hugged him tightly, “For everything you’ve done for us, it means a lot!” You pulled back so he could move on to Hunter. 

“Couldn’t have had this without you.” Hunter agreed as he went to shake the jolly man’s hand but was instead pulled into a bone crushing embrace. 

“Just wait, soon it’ll be Lyana’s turn.” You teased as he released Hunter, “I heard that future thought came up quite a bit a couple days ago.”

“Maybe but don’t forget your situation too… what about when it’s Omega’s?” Shep retorted fondly. 

Oh. Right. You and Hunter shared a terrified look. That was a quick way to turn the tables on your playful banter and it left you both scrambling for anything to say in response. 

“Uh huh. Think about that one.” Shep kidded smugly as he rested a strong, supportive hand on both your shoulders before he walked away.

You and Hunter both searched the dancing crowds and found Omega dancing happily with Wrecker, Lyana, Mox, Deke and Stak, and you knew Shep’s words were going to stick with you for some time. “

“We still have years and years, right?” You asked Hunter fretfully. 

“Yeah… and longer if I have anything to do with it.”

He said the words seriously, but you knew him well enough to understand that neither of you would get in the way of her future happiness, however you could still view that time with a certain degree of apprehension. You glanced at him with a warm smile. I love you for that. 

Hunter returned your smile before thankfully; a new voice broke you both out of your thoughts. 

“I’m sorry but we gotta head out. Congratulations to you both.” Rex said sincerely as he and Gregor approached you. 

You let Hunter bid Rex farewell first and you said goodbye to Gregor. 

“Well, beautiful, you’re leaving me broken-hearted.” Gregor said unhappily but there was a kind smile on his face.

“I’m sure you’ll recover just fine, Gregor.” You said with a fond smile as you hugged him before you hugged Rex, “Thank you both so much for making it out here!”

“I only wish we could stay longer.” Rex said apologetically.

“We understand.” Hunter reassured him with you nodding in agreement. 

“And you’re definitely okay with Echo joining you two later?” You double checked.

It was Rex’s turn to nod. “He’ll meet us at the rendezvous tomorrow. We’ll be fine.”

Gregor tossed Hunter a mischievous grin before he said conspiratorially to you, “Sure I can’t convince you to come along, beautiful? We can get this thing annulled in-”

“Would you stop that?” Hunter griped as he tucked you into his side even though he knew the likelihood of you actually leaving in any way was non-existent but even the thought illogically grated on his nerves. “I have never once found this in any way amusing.”

“Yeah, but you react every time. Can’t help myself.” Gregor said with a laugh. 

You leaned your head on Hunter’s shoulder and placed your left hand on his chest, your rings proudly on display. “Sorry Gregor, I’m very happy with my decision.”

Gregor shrugged. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Pretty sure what you’re doing actually qualifies as harassment.” Hunter grumbled under his breath, but he was smiling at his brother. 

You chuckled softly as you shook your head affectionately at your husband. You’re always my choice.

“We’ll get out of your hair.” Rex said as he saw the way Hunter’s face softened as he glanced down at you. He tugged on Gregor’s arm, “Good luck you two.”

“Same to you, Rex.” You said genuinely.

“Stay safe out there.” Hunter added before they walked away. 

--

So far, everything about this celebration had been easy and fun and you’d been enjoying sitting at your table and talking to your family but that was all ruined as the time you dreaded finally arrived. 

“What did we decide about Plan 42?” You muttered hastily to Omega who only shook her head at you and left it to Tech to answer. 

“Since this is not in fact a hostage situation, the parameters of the plan do not apply here.” Tech stated matter-of-factly. 

“Go on, I’m sure you won’t be that bad!” Wrecker encouraged enthusiastically. 

“You’ve survived much worse.” Echo pointed out. 

“And I need the entertainment of watching this anyway.” Crosshair added. 

“I hate all of you right now.” You groaned.

“You’ve managed before.” Hunter said with an affectionate roll of his eyes as he took a hold of your hand. 

“We barely moved, and something tells me that’s less of an option here.” You countered as you reluctantly let him tug you to your feet. 

“You, my gorgeous and amazing wife, are incredibly capable and have lived through several attempts on your life. You will get through this.” Hunter said with great seriousness in his voice though his eyes twinkled with humour. 

The use of that particular word sent a pleasurable shiver down your spine. “See, I can’t argue when you say things like that.” You mumbled as you walked beside him. 

“Why do you think I say them?” He quipped lightly in return as he squeezed your hand. 

Ah so there was always an ulterior motive. Here I was thinking it was just cause you love me. You replied with a playful frown but with every step towards the centre of the colonnade, your heartbeat grew more and more frantic. 

“Well, there’s that too.” Hunter responded good-naturedly but when you reached the centre, he noticed you already staring at the ground and twisting the rings on your finger in an anxious panic. He delicately placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up “Hey, remember what I said earlier today. It’s just you and I here, no one else. I’ve got you, okay?”

The sweet melody of the music started to play, and you saw the trust and love in his warm, brown eyes and they grounded you. You took a deep breath and nodded as you grabbed a hold on his hand and rested the other hand on his shoulder and started to move. 

--

The fact that Hunter knew what he was doing, and you knew you could count on him to not make you look like a fool made it much easier for you to relax into this and you were doing much better than the last time you were in this position, and you could feel yourself enjoying it now. 

Hunter spun you around, much to the delight of the crowd, and as he brought you back in, dipped you backwards. “Told you, you’re doing just fine.” He uttered tenderly as he pulled you upright and placed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Well, I have a pretty good partner.” You said softly as you let yourself follow his lead and dance smoothly around the space. 

Hunter grinned at you before he twirled you away from him but instead of pulling you back against him, this time he let your hand go and backed away. 

“What-” But before you could finish your sentence, a pair of hands caught you. You glanced up to see the beaming face of Wrecker looking down at you. Wrecker, what are you-

“You didn’t think Hunter was the only one that wanted this tradition to stay in, did you?”

“I don’t understand?” You queried as the two of you took a turn about the floor. 

But Wrecker ignored your question and enacted phase two of what this part of the tradition was really for. He kept you slowly spinning around the floor before he started his piece, “I’ve been there for both the good and the bad of what the two of you had to experience. And, especially after Ord Mantell, it was hard, it was really hard to watch him go through that. But you need to know that it wasn’t just him… I missed you too. I’m really glad you decided to take Hunter up on his offer on Devaron. No matter what this marriage with Hunter has in store for you, you ain’t getting rid of us any time soon.” Wrecker finished off; his voice gruff with emotion before he whirled you around and released his grip. 

Wrecker, I- But you barely had any time to process what was going on before you Echo was the one now holding you. 

“Instead of a speech, we all decided to do this instead.” Echo explained as he had his turn with you. 

Oh. Was all you could manage to say. You didn’t trust yourself to speak out loud for the moment. 

“I hadn’t been around this squad for a long time before we met you, but I like to think I knew them all pretty well and seeing how Hunter was around you and vice versa, I just knew you two had something. It was tough to watch you both refuse it for so long and when you finally acknowledged it, I truly didn’t think it would get much better for you two, but it did and I’m so happy for you. But you need to also know that it wasn’t just him, you got something out of all of us. You filled a gap I don’t think he or any of us really realised we needed filled until you stepped aboard that ship.” Echo removed himself and jutted his chin in the direction behind you. 

You turned into the waiting arms of the next one who turned out to be Tech. All of you are really doing this?

“It was unanimously agreed.” Tech responded with a small grin before he said his piece, “Your feelings for Hunter and his for you were obvious from the start, that’s not what I’m here to convey tonight but I do have something to say that I feel is crucial for you to understand. Now, unfortunately I don’t have the exact data to hand, but I have observed this for quite some time,” Tech raised his arm, so you had to duck and spin under it before he brought his hand back to your waist, “You have a pattern of using the word ‘your’ when referring to us as Hunter’s brothers. I don’t think we have said it enough but, despite the official nature of today that cements this fact, you were a part of our family long before this day. We’re your brothers too.” Tech said with affectionate sincerity before he let you go into the waiting hand of the next one in line.

You kept one hand intertwined with his whilst the other rested on his forearm. “So, even you agreed to this huh?” You asked Crosshair with an amused smile but much to your surprise, this time he didn’t play into the joke, he just regarded you with genuine- almost tender- seriousness. 

Crosshair exhaled a short breath before he started, “We weren’t really accepted by the regs and although we owned that, it wasn’t always easy, especially in the beginning. But then you came along, and you took us for what we were. I kept expecting you to realise the extent of the craziness that you’d signed up for and leave but you never did. You just fit. Hunter’s idea to ask you to join us was probably one of his best ones. And it wasn’t only that, you and Hunter worked on a level I’d never seen before. But you’re not just his perfect match you know, you were meant to be a Bad Batcher.” Crosshair said quietly with a smile before he let you go and walked away. 

The final person was considerably shorter than the rest of them so instead of dancing, you crouched down to be eye-level with the young girl. 

“When I was on Kamino, I didn’t hear much of anything about the war or the rest of the galaxy, but I always knew about this squad. And when I heard about you, I knew I had to finally find a way to meet you all again. I may have been new to the group, but I watched you. I watched you with Hunter and it was clear how much you loved each other. But it was also clear how much love you and the rest of the squad have for one another. I wasn’t just joining a squad; I was joining a family filled with people I admire. You have a bit of all of them in you and if I grow up to be anything like the person you are, I know I’ll be living my life right.” Omega said meaningfully, her voice choking up slightly as she finished. 

You hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Omega.” You whispered, your voice clogged with emotion. 

Omega let you go and smiled at you before she retreated backwards into the group of them, and she felt Tech’s hands on her shoulders. 

You straightened up and stared at the group of six people that formed your beautiful, wonderful family and you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve them or this happy ending. “Okay, this isn’t fair,” You said through a weepy-eyed smile, “I was doing a really good job of keeping it together until now.” You dabbed away the happy tears that had fallen down your cheeks. 

Hunter stepped towards you and kissed your brow before he pressed his forehead against yours. “Marrying you has been the best decision I’ve ever made and it’s an adventure I have been ready to take with you for a while, no matter how bumpy it could get, and I never want you to think otherwise. But I know you, and I know the doubt and anxiety can creep in regardless. If through the years, you ever need reassurance on how much I love you or how important you are to this family, there are plenty of people who would be willing to remind you.”

A sob mixed with a noise of elation sounded from your lips and you tugged on his tie to bring him closer as you kissed him deeply, tangling your fingers in his hair. 

Hunter reacted instantly. He placed his hands on your hips and pressed you tight against him but even as the party raged on around you, at this moment, it was just the two of you now and everything had never felt so right. 

--

The celebrations had finally drawn to a close and you were making your way home, happy laughs and chatter filling the silent night of Pabu as you walked back with your family. 

You and Hunter reached your home first and paused outside your door to say your goodbyes to everyone first. 

As the group of you split off, you remembered the final thing you had to say today. 

“Lyra?” You called after her.

Lyra turned around expectantly.

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. I never thought meeting you on Ord Mantell would lead to having a friend like you but I’m very grateful it did. Thank you for being a part of my life.”

Lyra smiled and hugged you tightly. “I’m very glad to be in it. Oh, and don’t forget, I know that you’re finally using the gifts I got you, so I want the details when you're back.” She whispered to you, a mischievous tone in her voice.  

You’d forgotten you’d told her about that idea, and you had to be sure to conceal your reaction and merely nodded and returned her necklace before she winked and walked away from you.

--

“Hey, can you do something for me?” You asked as the group faded into the distance. 

Hunter glanced at you with a questioning look on his face.

The future isn’t always certain, I know that, but please don’t fall out of love with me. 

Hunter huffed out an affectionate laugh and tugged you to his chest as he uttered into your hair, “There’s no chance of that. I will fall in love with you over and over again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I don’t care how, where or when.”

“No matter how long it’s been?” You questioned teasingly as you slowly kissed up the column of his throat.

“Mmhmm.” He murmured as he got lost in the sensation of your lips on his skin before he took a small step back and cupped your cheek as he looked into your eyes. 

The slight coolness and weight of the gold band against the skin of your cheek made your breath hitch and the small act was enough to ignite the simmering tension that had been building between you since the ceremony. 

“You’re mine.” You both said in unison before you met each other in a passionate embrace and Hunter all but kicked the door to your home down before backing you inside.

--

Muscle memory guided the way to your bedroom and despite the eager and frantic noises that sounded from you both as you kissed each other, when it came to turning you around and undoing the buttons on the back of your dress, Hunter was careful- almost delicate- in his touch. As your skin was revealed to him, he managed to plant a few adoring kisses to the fading scars on your back before you turned around and placed a hand on his chest to halt him from going any further. 

“Wait a moment.” You requested breathlessly but you saw the flash of confusion in his eyes. “I won’t be long. There’s just something I need to do first.” You assured him. 

Shoulders heaving, Hunter dipped his head in acknowledgement of your wish and dazedly retreated out of the room.

--

You shut the door and took a breath for courage as you took your dress off and hung it up in your closet before you studied your reflection as you were left standing in the final white lingerie set that Lyra had gifted you. If Hunter’s reactions to the red and black ones were any indication, you knew this would go down just as well- it was the second part of your plan that had you wondering about how long his patience would last and you couldn’t wait to put it to the test. 

Feeling good, you donned your robe and, leaving it untied, you reached into your nightstand and removed the small black velvet bag that, along with other items that could be used at a different time, had the particular one you were searching for. 

Feeling ready, you reopened the door.

--

Hunter only got as far as taking off his shoes and undoing his tie before the door reopened and he stopped everything he was doing and just stared at you. 

It wasn’t just the striking image of you in the white lingerie that had him rooted to the spot, he’d also clocked the object you were holding in your hand. His breath hitched. “Sweetheart…” His tone was cautionary because already his self-control was evaporating and his own plan was forming in his head but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to be involved as much as he wanted to be.

You gestured to the small bag you now left open on top of your bedside table. “I’ll admit, I was a bit unsure when I first saw this as one of the things in there but after finding what worked for me, I understand why Lyra included it.” You responded, your voice low and enticing as you kept his attention entirely fixed on you. 

“When- when have you used this?” Hunter said, his voice hoarse as the images were enough to make his head spin. He couldn’t help himself either and he closed the gap between you before he immediately removed the robe and traced his mouth along your neck and across your collarbone. His hands caressed the fabric that graced your body. 

Your eyes flickered shut and a content sigh emitted from your lips. “Some nights you were home late and I just couldn’t wait.” 

In response to your words, Hunter ground out a groan against your throat and his hands tightened their grip on your hips but from the way you took a hold of his wrists, he was beginning to understand that was as far as he was going to get with you for the moment. 

“Remember what I said about not falling out of love with me?” You asked as you found your composure once more. 

Hunter nodded slowly as he waited for you to elaborate and then you said the words that made him feel immediately faint and all he could register was the primal desire that was coursing through his veins as he got clarity on your intentions. 

“I want you to wait. And I want you to watch. Can you be good and do that for me?” You crooned against his lips before you kissed him seductively and you watched the change in his eyes as your words registered with him. 

A noise that was mixed with agreement and anguish left his lips as he could do nothing to prevent you from removing yourself and taking your place on the bed. 

Feeling emboldened by his reaction, you offered him a coy smirk and laid down. You turned it on and a sharp gasp that swiftly morphed into a groan left your mouth as you ran the toy down your clothed chest, and further still, teasing yourself in the areas that heightened the arousal coursing through your veins. 

“Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” Hunter begged. He needed to know what you were thinking about if he had any hope of standing by and waiting for your permission to touch you. 

Now that was something you had no trouble divulging. “I always imagine you. I imagine your touch, your lips on my skin.”

In a bizarre way, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. He’d hoped for some generic fantasy, something different that could aid him in distancing himself from the moment so he could just enjoy the view but he was now unable to do that. Those words were not helpful in quelling his ever rising need for you. “Sweetheart, please…” Hunter croaked as he could barely find the strength within him to stay standing. Hearing and seeing you like this was sending every part of him into overdrive. 

But you just about managed to shake your head as you kept going, “I imagine your fingers, your tongue, how right it feels when you’re inside of me.” Your words left you through breathless, pleasure induced whispers and your hips bucked as you finally pulled your underwear to the side and applied pressure with the toy where you were also craving his touch. Hunter’s quiet but eager words of encouragement only spurned you on. You kept changing the pace and vibrations so you could prolong the experience. You didn’t mind toying with him or teasing yourself, you knew it would only lead to the reaction from him that you were hoping for. 

Hunter’s mouth felt like it was filled with cotton but he just about managed to gain control of his faculties to reply, “What was that you said about living to torture me?” He rasped, the raw, unfiltered desperation in his voice seeping through as he watched you in utter awe. He sank to his knees at the end of the bed, fingers clawing at the sheets as he forced himself to follow your instructions. His gaze alternated between what was happening between your legs and the expression on your face as you took control over your own pleasure. It was a sight that set his blood on fire but what he was watching was like no test he’d ever faced before, and he would give anything to do this with you, no matter how small a contribution it would be. 

You couldn't find the words to reply for the moment. You were careening towards that cliff-edge that would bring your unbridled relief and you couldn’t bring yourself to delay it any further. 

Hunter immediately recognised the change in your breath and the crinkle in your brow and he couldn’t wait any longer. His patience snapped and he grabbed a hold of your wrist to stop you from going any further. He crawled up your body and kissed you fiercely, muffling your sounds of protest. He pinned your arms above your head, all the while never breaking away from your lips and the slow grind of his hips served as a temporary relief for him as well as an easy and pleasurable distraction for you as he worked the toy out of your grasp. 

Hey- You started to argue as you realised what he’d done.  

“My turn.” Hunter growled against your throat as he sucked a mark on your pulse point, relishing in your quiet moan and the way your body arched under his in response to the action. He found the strength to remove himself from you and alter your places, so he was against the headboard of the bed and your back was against his chest. He angled your head to face straight ahead. “I’m not the only one who should be watching,” He murmured into your ear, “I want you to see how stunning you are and why I can’t control myself around you. You, my perfect wife, are a sight to behold.” With that, he raked his teeth across the skin of your neck and reapplied the toy to where he was longing to be but for now, he would resist. He wanted to have his way with you like this first.

You watched yourself in the bureau mirror and your breath quivered at the sight. Not only was there something particularly and devastatingly arousing about the fact that Hunter was still fully dressed in his immaculate suit while you were wearing next to nothing. But what also added to the excitement was that you had never seen yourself like this and you finally grasped what he was talking about. You couldn’t take your eyes away from your reflection. Your pupils were blown wide, your lips were parted in a perfect ‘o’ shape and your body slotted against his like you were made to be with him. 

Hunter rested his chin on the crook of your neck and watched as your spine bent to his every design, watching your face carefully as he worked the toy between your legs. The noises leaving you fuelling his need to make this an unforgettable experience. “These sounds you make, they’re better than any noise I’ve heard before…. that furrow in your brow, the way your lips part when you can’t stay quiet… the tension in your body I feel before you find relief… all of it is something I can’t believe I get to witness or that I get to create.” Hunter said the words in a frenzied state of passion and he needed to make sure you also understood. “Do you see why I’m so glad to call you mine? Do you see how beautiful you are?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a broken groan as your hips chased the sensations he was giving you. 

He removed the toy, ignoring your faint mewl of annoyance. “Who are you?” Hunter growled as he nipped on your earlobe. 

“I’m your wife.” You gasped, practically delirious with the effect he was having on you.

Hunter hummed his approval and put the toy back, grinning against your jaw as he kissed a sensual path along it before he asked next, “And who am I?”

“You’re my husband.” You panted as you saw the way his ring reflected in the evening light. 

Yes he was. And that was never going to change. “Come for your husband.”

You fell apart with a loud cry and panted breathlessly as you sagged against his chest, but he wasn’t done with you yet. “Hunter-” You choked on your words as he kept going. You went to snap your legs shut but the way he’d entangled his legs with yours made the act impossible. You were completely at his mercy, and you couldn’t think of anything better. As you kept your eyes fixed on your two reflections, you saw the hunger in them and you couldn’t believe you’d spent so long denying yourself these feelings you had for him but you couldn’t linger on those thoughts as you felt yourself stumbling towards another release. Another shout emitted from your lips as that build up of wonderful pressure crashed through you.

As he worked you through the second one, another idea entered Hunter’s head and he kissed the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I wonder how many times I can make you finish with this.” He purred with seductive intent but he allowed you a moment to recover as he traced his lips over any skin he could reach.  

A whimper left you at the very thought but that wasn’t what you wanted yet. You wanted to feel him, you craved the feeling of him inside you. You wanted your husband. You used your freedom to turn and straddle him. “For the next two weeks, you can do whatever you want. But I need you. Now.” You insisted breathlessly against his lips as you practically tore his jacket off and frantically got to work on unbuttoning his shirt. 

It hit him then. Two weeks. He had two weeks of pure relaxation with you. One week here, and one away on the neighbouring island planet that he’d been to a couple days ago upon Shep’s safety recommendation and he’d seen for himself how little the people there cared for or even paid attention to the Empire. 

There’d be no interruptions.

No jobs needing done. 

Just him and you. 

Alone. 

And the thought excited him much more than he’d anticipated. With a low, eager groan, he let go of the toy, wrapped his arms around you and captured your lips in a searing kiss and helped aid you in your attempts to undress him before he did the same for you. 

You raised your hips before carefully bringing them back down to welcome him as your bodies became one, the sensation making both your breath’s catch in your throat. 

Hunter kept you secure for a second as your hips became flush with his. He needed a moment to compose himself and he also wanted to give you time to adjust. He tenderly tucked the dishevelled strands of hair back from your face and looked into your eyes and he saw a love that he knew was reflected in the way he looked at you too- and it wasn’t an expression that was just for tonight but it was one that you shared for as long as you’d known one another. He couldn’t believe how there’d been a time where he thought feeling this happy, feeling this much love wasn't a possibility for either of you. “Tell me when.” He requested, his voice strained. 

Move. Please. You gave your consent instantly as you kissed him once more and finally, he loosened his grip and the act gave you both what you were longing for. 

The two of you moved in perfect synchronisation, swallowing each other’s groans with loving, passionate kisses. 

There was nothing but pure, unfiltered love between the two of you as you got lost in the pleasure induced haze you were gifting one another. 

“Sweetheart, I- I can’t- I’m-” Hunter stammered desperately as he moved his hips in tandem with yours. He’d already been close to the edge when he was both watching and participating in your little game and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out with how perfect you felt now but he needed you to finish one more time. He needed to feel you come apart again. 

You recognised the change in his pace and you knew he was nearing that same point you were. “With me.” You encouraged as you twisted your fingers in his hair to ground you as you were tumbling towards that moment of ecstasy. 

Hunter felt you tighten around him which only brought on his own release. He buried his face in your chest as he finished with a deep moan.

You collapsed against his chest and for a moment, the only sounds that filled the air were your uneven pants and the island critters that came alive at this time of night. Wow, that- I- I don’t know what else to say other than that.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “When we go away, bring that bag with you.” He requested into the quiet through heavy breaths as he stroked your back.

You chuckled softly as you rested your head against him and worked on catching your own breath. “So, Sergeant, now that you’ve made an honest woman out of me, what’s the plan for the next 14 days?”

“Keeping you in bed is a key part of my agenda.” He said with complete seriousness. 

A rush of arousal swept through your body at that thought. “We’ll need to eat at some point.” You pointed out with playful logic, a smile in your voice as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“Oh, I will… We know the counters here are strong enough anyway…” Hunter mused as his hands now slid up and down your sides. 

You raised yourself to catch the gleam in his eye and you shook your head fondly. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Hunter hummed out a soft laugh and made a path of kisses from the tip of your nose, to the hollow of your throat before he switched your positions, so he was now on top of you. “The second part of my plan is making sure I make you as happy as you make me.”

Your fingers stroked through the small pieces of his fringe before you threaded your fingers in his dark locks. “You’ve already done that and more. I’ve never been happier.” You said with deep sincerity, and you kissed him gently, the promise of your new life together implicitly understood in the tender way you met the passionate, loving strokes of his mouth. 

Finally, you felt utterly complete and at peace.

--

Ten years later

The moonlight was her only guide as she walked the familiar path to the cave.

She quietly made her way into the cavern and to her new ship that was finally ready to fly. 

She didn’t feel great about leaving in the dead of night without saying a proper goodbye but her mind was made up and she couldn’t face any more debates. 

She was going and that was that. She knew you’d all accept her choice in time. 

–

As she entered and crouched down to turn the lamps on, she heard a faint bark and as she followed the source of the sound, she realised she wasn’t alone after all.

Of course, she should’ve known the couple that consisted of a Jedi and a clone with enhanced senses would make it impossible to do anything sneakily. 

She fondly shook her head and made her way over to where you two were sitting by the area of the cave that looked out through and opening to where the moonlight and ocean met.  

–

“Thought you could just sneak off?” Hunter said with an amused lilt to his voice before he sighed as he realised there was no changing what was about to happen. “Time hasn’t dulled all my senses.”

“And older Jedi or now, you forget that we know you pretty well by now.” You pointed out with a kind smile from Hunter’s left. 

Omega sat down on Hunter’s other side. “This shouldn’t be a surprise. The Rebellion needs pilots now more than ever.” 

Hunter simply released a resigned sigh. 

“I’ve made my choice, Hunter. I want to do more.” 

“And we want to keep you safe.” 

A light huff of laughter left her lips. Some things time never changed and Hunter’s protective nature was one of those things. “You have but I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh, come on, Omega. You know we can’t do that.” You reminded her with a slight smile. You were prepared for this but the reality of it was always going to be hard to handle. 

Hunter nodded his agreement with your statement before he said to her, “You’re our kid, Omega. You always will be.”

She glanced at you “Hunter, you’ve all fought enough. This is my fight. I’m ready.” She needed him to understand that or she’d be leaving with a heavy heart. Omega looked to you for confirmation that he was finally ready to let her go as you were the only one during the beginning of all the back and forth that had immediately shown a willingness to hear her out. 

He’s not here to stop you but let him have a bit longer with you, okay? You requested gently and you saw her give you a subtle dip of her head that she’d heard you.

“Yeah I know you are, but I’m not.” Hunter admitted with a deep sigh. He registered your hand squeezing his knee in comfort. 

My love, it’s time. You said delicately.

Hunter released a shaky exhale before you all got to your feet.

Omega gave Hunter a warm embrace before she pulled back but left her hands on his shoulders. “Keep an eye on the others while I’m gone. Batcher too.” Omega instructed with a sad but also content smile. Leaving was never going to be easy but at least now she had the blessing of those that mattered most to her.

You took your turn and squeezed her tight. Take this.

Omega’s eyes widened as she parted from you and saw what you were holding. “No, I can’t. It’s-”

“I want you to have it, Omega.” You insisted as you tied the bracelet with your blue kyber crystal attached to it. I love you, kid and I know you won’t exactly have time for a weekly comm chat but this way, I’ll always know where you are.

Omega gave you a happy but slightly teary-eyed smile as she nodded her acceptance of the gift. 

The three of you shared in a final group hug before you separated for the last time.

“Off you go.” Hunter encouraged with a sad but accepting grin.

Omega darted up the steps of her ship.

“Omega…” 

She half turned to face Hunter again.

“If you ever need us, we’ll be there.” He promised as he wrapped his arm around you and squeezed your shoulder. 

“Just say where and when.” You affirmed passionately. 

Omega nodded and powered up the shift and she’d never felt more ready for this next adventure. With a final wave of farewell from the cockpit, she got the ship in the air.

In response to Batcher’s quiet whine as the ship took off, Hunter reassured the hound, “It’s alright, girl. She’ll be fine.” 

“They won’t know what hit them.” You said proudly as you watched the ship fade into the distance. 

“The Empire or the Rebellion?” Hunter quipped.

“Both.” You replied with a smile. “Come on. We’ve got our family to get back too.” You intertwined your hands and the two of you and your faithful hound companion left the cavern. 

–

“So, now that one of our own is off on the next adventure, are you still liking the boring, domestic life?” Hunter asked light-heartedly as the two of you made your way back to your home.

You paused and looped your arms around his neck with a doting smile. “I love my boring, domestic life and you forget, this life has my handsome husband in it and I would be crazy if I wanted anything different.” You replied sincerely. 

Hunter offered you a small, playful smirk. “Still handsome huh? Don’t you mean old?”

You arched a sceptical brow. Surely he wasn’t serious? Your eyes hungrily scanned the healthy body of a man that didn’t have to live battle to battle or ration to ration and the grown out hair that had beautiful streaks of light grey mixed in with the dark brown locks. And the beard? You didn’t have enough words or time to even express how well that worked for him. He never failed to get your heart racing, no matter how much time passed. “Have you seen yourself, Hunter? It’s actually unfair how good you look.”

Hunter returned your smile and placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. He nuzzled the side of your face as he murmured, “You get my heart racing too.”

You chuckled softly- you knew he would’ve sensed the increase in your heartbeat. You kissed him tenderly in response before the two of you walked on. 

You ruminated in your thoughts as your home drew nearer. Omega wasn’t a kid anymore, this decision was hers to make and she had all the support behind her. Would you all worry? Of course you would, that was a given no matter what she was signing up for but she had proven time and time again that she could take care of herself. Your paths may be different now but family was the only thing you could always count on and no matter where any of you ended up, that was a certainty that was never going to fade with time. 

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @moonychicky, @notgonnaedit, @arctrooper69, @dizzy-9906, @nightmonkeysstuff, @allthingsimagines, @thegreymarveljedi, @jellybeanstacey0519, @callsign-denmark, @superbookishhufflepuff, @qvnthesia, @justsomerandompersonintheworld, @ooostarwarsfandom501st, @dreamsight73, @yourreababboon, @livin-life-to-the-coolest

[gmikaelson]

The Assistant 3 | K.M

"And happiness is a luxury I can't afford. Not when it comes with an expiration date."

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Summary: Klaus takes Y/N on a little trip to the bayou...yay her

Part 2 « if you haven’t read it yet

Part 4

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The next day, as the clock struck 1 PM, Klaus decided that was enough sleep for Y/N, hangover or no hangover.

He strode purposefully toward her room, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he anticipated her hungover state. He threw open the door without warning, letting it slam against the wall.

"Rise and shine, love!" His voice was deliberately loud, taking sadistic pleasure in what he knew would be her discomfort. "I do hope last night's wine was worth what promises to be a spectacularly painful morning." He moved to throw open the curtains with theatrical flair.

He turned to face the bed with amusement. "You have exactly ten minutes to make yourself presentable. The werewolves are becoming rather... restless, and since you've proven so adept at handling supernatural negotiations..." his smirk widened maliciously, "I thought you might enjoy mediating their petty grievances. Consider it punishment for your drunk shenanigans last night."

Y/N groans, pulling the covers over her head at the sunlight, “I don’t get paid enough for this…oh wait, that's right. I don’t get paid at all,” she grumbles, “5 more minutes. Please”

Klaus moved with vampire speed, yanking the covers off her completely, earning a yelp

"You get paid in continued survival, which is far more generous than most who work for me receive." He loomed over her  "And since you were so adamant about 'belonging' here last night, consider this your first official day as my willing assistant rather than my captive one." His smirk turned wickedly amused.

He picked up a glass of water from her nightstand, deliberately swirling it near her ear. "Now, you have two choices, love. Either you get up willingly, or I demonstrate just how effectively cold water cures hangovers." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. "And do note - your drunken confessions last night have only encouraged my more... creative methods of motivation."

Her eyes snap open, and she immediately sits up and turns her head to him, “confessions? Oh god, what did I say?”

She doesn't remember much from last night.

Klaus' expression shifted to something darkly amused, enjoying her obvious panic. He set the water glass down with deliberate slowness.

"Oh, nothing too concerning..." His voice carried dangerous playfulness. "Just something about feeling like you belonged here, calling my compound 'home,' and quite adamantly declaring you didn't want to leave." He watched her reaction with predatory intensity. "Though my personal favorite was your delightfully bold statement about how I wouldn't kill you because I would have done it already."

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear. "You also put on quite a show trying to remove your dress. Though I'm sure you remember that part clearly." His smirk turned wicked as he straightened and saw the flush creeping up her cheeks. "Now, unless you'd like to discuss more of your drunken revelations, I suggest you get dressed. The werewolves await, and I do so enjoy watching them squirm in your... particular presence."

She furrows her brows. what was that supposed to mean? Pushing that thought away, she decided to focus on more pressing matters.

Covering her face with her hands, “Please tell me we’re not going out into the bayou” she groans.

Klaus watches her distress with malicious delight, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe.

"As a matter of fact..." his smirk widened with sadistic pleasure, "we are. And do wear something appropriate for trudging through mud. Can't have you stumbling around in heels like last night." His eyes glinted dangerously."Though I must say, your current suffering is providing excellent entertainment."

He pushed off the doorframe. "8 minutes now, love. And do try to look less... hungover. The wolves already think humans are weak - let's not prove them right." He paused at the door, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder. "Unless you'd prefer I carry you through the bayou again? Though I make no promises about avoiding the muddier paths this time."

She falls back onto the bed, pressing a pillow into her face and yelling

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The Mikaelson were all in the kitchen when Y/N made her way down. She wore jeans, rain boots, a sweater, a jacket, and a beanie. They all found her outfit hilarious

Klaus watched her stumble in with amusement, seated regally at the head of the table.

"Well, well... if it isn't the Quarter's most fashionable swamp explorer." His smirk widened as he took in her outfit.

"Oh, leave her be, Nik." Rebekah's voice carried poorly hidden laughter. "Though darling, you do look like you're preparing for an Arctic expedition rather than a trip to the bayou."

“It’s cold down there,” she grumbles defensively, heading to the fridge.

"I find it rather... practical," Elijah commented diplomatically, though his lips twitched.

Klaus stood with grace, moving to intercept her at the fridge. "No time for breakfast, love. The wolves await." His voice dripped with malicious pleasure. "Though I must say, that beanie is particularly... entertaining. Planning to start a new fashion trend among the pack?"

“What? Klaus, I’m starving. At least eat me grab something,” she pouts.

Klaus' eyes darkened at her pout, something flashing across his features before he masked it with irritation.

"Fine." He moved with vampire speed, grabbing an apple and tossing it at her with deliberate force. "There's your breakfast. Now-"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Nik," Rebekah interrupted, rolling her eyes. "She can barely stand, let alone negotiate with werewolves. Let the poor girl eat."

Klaus turned to his sister with dangerous intent. "Since when do you care about the dietary needs of my assistant?"

"Since watching you pretend not to care is becoming painfully obvious," Rebekah smirked.

Klaus' jaw clenched as he turned back to Y/N. "Five minutes. Then we leave, whether you've finished or not. And do remove that ridiculous beanie - you look like a lost tourist."

Klaus stormed out as Y/N rolled her eyes. She grabs a toast and the cream cheese from the fridge turning to Rebekah, “What's his problem today? He’s more assholey than usual”

Rebekah's smirk widened as she shared a knowing look with Elijah.

"Oh, darling," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "my brother spent half the night brooding on his balcony after helping you undress. I'd say his mood has everything to do with-"

"Rebekah." Elijah's warning tone cut through, though his eyes held amusement.

"What? Someone needs to tell the poor girl why Nik's being particularly insufferable." Rebekah stood with elegant grace. "Though I suggest you eat quickly, love. He's not above carrying you out mid-bite."

Klaus' voice boomed from the courtyard. "I can hear you, sister! And Y/N, if you're not out here in two minutes, I'm letting the wolves handle their own disputes. I'm sure they'd be delighted to resolve things their way - with violence."

“I’m coming!” She calls out with annoyance.

She makes the sandwich and walks out, “god, I think you forget I’m human and I need actual food” she complains as she joins him in the courtyard.

Klaus sees that she's still wearing the beanie, his eye twitching out of annoyance. Stalking towards her with predatory grace, his hand shoots out to snatch it off her head.

"I warned you about this ridiculous accessory." He pocketed it with deliberate slowness, his eyes challenging her to protest. "I refuse to have my reputation undermined by an assistant who looks like she's attending a winter carnival rather than a supernatural negotiation."

"Rude" she mumbles under her breath

He studied her irritated expression as she took a bite of her sandwich. "And I haven't forgotten you're human - your various weaknesses remind me constantly." He moved closer, invading her space with threatening intent. "Though if you'd prefer, I could always turn you. That would solve your perpetual hunger issues... among other things." His smirk turned dangerous, knowing full well her stance on vampirism.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “no,” she says firmly before rolling her eyes and adjusting her hair with her free hand, “Let’s go. You're making my head hurt even more”

Klaus caught her wrist with lightning speed as she tried to walk ahead, his grip firm but careful as he pulled her closer.

"No?" His voice carried dangerous amusement. "Such conviction for someone who can barely handle a hangover. Though I must admit, your stubborn refusal to embrace immortality is becoming... intriguing." He released her wrist but maintained his imposing proximity.

He watched her adjust your hair again with calculated interest. "The car's waiting. Though given your current state, I suggest you finish that sandwich quickly. Wouldn't want you emptying your stomach all over my leather seats." His smirk turned malicious. "And do try to look less... hungover when we arrive. The wolves already think I've gone soft keeping a human assistant. Your current state isn't helping matters."

Y/N wishes she kept count of how many eye rolls a day Klaus can get out of her

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The car takes them as far as it can since it fully can’t enter the bayou. Klaus parks the car and then to Y/N with an amused smile, already anticipating her reaction. She had her arms crossed, “is there no chance I can wait for you here while you go to the meeting?” she pleads.

Klaus emerged from the car, appearing at her door with vampire speed. He yanked it open with theatrical flair.

"Not a chance, love." His smirk widened with malicious delight. "You were so eager to prove your worth as my assistant last night. Something about 'belonging' here?" He leaned into the car, his presence deliberately intimidating. "Besides, the wolves respond remarkably well to your... particular brand of negotiation. Even if you do look like you're about to be sick."

He straightened, gesturing to the muddy path ahead with mock courtesy."Now, shall we proceed with dignity, or do I need to carry you through the swamp? Though I warn you - my generous mood from last night has... expired." His eyes glinted dangerously. "And do mind the snakes. They tend to be rather active this time of day."

Another eye roll, “you’re making me regret that particular speech.” she says as she steps out of the car.

“And do mind the fact that you’ll have to carry a very hysterical me if I do get bit by a snake,” she starts confidently marching ahead without him, "are you just going to stand there?" she calls out as she steps over a fallen log.

Klaus watched her determined march in the wrong direction with amusement, letting her get a few steps ahead before calling out.

"While I do enjoy your misplaced confidence, love, the wolves are in the opposite direction." He appeared suddenly beside her, his hand settling on her lower back to steer her around. "Though I must say, your current path would have led to a rather fascinating encounter with the local alligator population."

He guided her with possessive intent, keeping her close as they navigated the muddy terrain. "And regarding snake bites..." his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "my blood would cure you instantly. Though watching you debate between death and vampirism might prove... entertaining." His smirk turned predatory. "Unless you'd prefer I simply carry you now? Save us both the inevitable drama of your wildlife encounters."

“Vampirism? Why? You planning to snap my neck after you heal me? Because if I don’t die, then I won’t turn.” She keeps her eyes on the ground, watching her step as they tread through the bayou.

Klaus' hand tightened fractionally on her back at the casual discussion of death, something dangerous flashing in his eyes.

“You know, shouldn’t they be coming to us?” she huffs, reaching to move a branch from her face

"Careful, love. Your knowledge of vampire mechanics is showing." He moved the next branch before she could reach it, his movements possessive. "And they come to us when I'm feeling generous. Today..." his smirk turned malicious, "I thought a muddy trek might help with your hangover."

He caught her as she stumbled slightly, his grip firm. "As for snapping your neck..." he leaned closer, his breath ghosting her ear, "there are far more creative ways to turn someone. Though your adamant refusal to even consider immortality is becoming rather... personal. Tell me, sweetheart, what exactly do you find so appealing about your fleeting humanity?"

She takes a moment to think, “Becoming a vampire...that means giving up my humanity, Klaus. It’s what makes life real, makes people real. As much as I struggle, I know that pain and vulnerability keep me grounded, keep me…me. And…I’d never forgive myself if I killed someone just because I was hungry.”

She turns to face him, “I’ve seen what immortality does to people, how it twists them, makes them lose sight of who they were. I don’t want that. I’d rather live a short, imperfect life than an eternity where I lose myself.” She shrugs, “I want to have kids, I want to grow old with someone beside me. They may seem like silly and inferior dreams to you, but they are everything to me”

Klaus stilled completely at her words, something unfamiliar and almost vulnerable flickering across his features before his expression hardened into something more dangerous.

"Such profound wisdom from someone who could barely remove her own dress last night." His voice carried its usual mockery, though there was an underlying tension. "Though I must say, your romantic notions of humanity are..." he paused, his jaw clenching, "naive. Growing old, having children - you speak of these things as if they're guaranteed. As if the world isn't filled with monsters who could snuff out those dreams in an instant."

His grip on her waist tightened possessively as he guided her over a particularly treacherous patch of mud. "But by all means, cling to your precious humanity. Though I wonder..." his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "what will you do when those 'inferior dreams' of yours conflict with your position here? Because make no mistake, love - this life you've chosen, working for me, it doesn't exactly accommodate white picket fences and growing old together."

Y/N pinches her brows together, “I…I guess I’ve never thought of how long I’d have this position for. We never really talked about it but…I can’t stay forever can I?” she looks back ahead, “I mean…I’m only 21, so it’s not like I plan to have kids anytime soon”

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously, his fingers digging slightly into her waist at the mention of her leaving.

"Forever is such a... loaded term." His voice carried lethal undertones as he pulled her closer, ostensibly to help her over a fallen log. "Though I find it interesting that you're already planning your eventual departure. Perhaps last night's declarations of 'belonging' were merely the wine talking after all."

Was that...bitterness in his tone?

He stopped abruptly, turning her to face him, "Let me make something perfectly clear, love. I don't train assistants just to watch them scamper off to live out their human fantasies." His eyes bore into hers with dangerous intensity. "The position is yours for as long as you prove useful. Though how you balance that with your... domestic aspirations, well..." his smirk turned cruel, "that's your problem to solve, isn't it?"

He watches her cross her arms, “and what’s your definition of useful exactly?”

Klaus studied her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression as he made a decision.

"Useful..." he stepped closer, his voice dropping low, "is someone I can trust with more than just contracts and negotiations." His eyes held an unfamiliar vulnerability before hardening again. "There was no wolf meeting today, love. Consider this a... test of sorts."

He gestured ahead where smoke could be seen rising above the trees. "My daughter is staying with her mother in the bayou. And while I excel at many things, sharing my vulnerabilities isn't one of them." His expression turned threatening. "So understand this - if I'm about to introduce you to the most precious thing in my existence, your earlier talk of leaving becomes... problematic. Hope's safety depends on absolute loyalty from those who know of her."

Y/N's eyes widen slightly, and she takes a sharp breath, “You…you want me to meet your daughter?” Does he trust me that much?

Klaus watched your reaction intently, his expression a dangerous mix of vulnerability and threat.

As if he read her mind, "Trust isn't something I give easily, love." He moved closer, his hand coming up to grip her chin. "In fact, the list of people I trust with Hope's existence is remarkably... short. Most who learn of her don't live long enough to speak of it." His thumb traced her jaw with deliberate slowness. "So yes, I'm choosing to trust you. Unless you'd prefer I reconsider?"

His eyes darkened with lethal promise. "Though understand this - if any harm comes to her because of this trust, if you breathe a word of her existence to anyone..." he leaned closer, "your dreams of growing old will become the least of your concerns. Are we clear?"

She nods, understanding the weight of his words, "Klaus, I would never...please. Believe me." she smiles, bringing a hand up and wrapping it around his wrist

Klaus stilled at her touch, his eyes flickering with something intense as he studied her expression. For a moment, his usual mask slipped, revealing a father's vulnerability beneath the monster.

"I know." His voice was uncharacteristically soft before he caught himself, his grip on her chin tightening slightly. "Which is precisely why you're still breathing after last night's drunken adventures." He released her slowly, though his expression remained intense. 

He turned to lead the way, but not before his hand found the small of her back again, more possessive than before. "Though I warn you - if you attempt to dress my daughter in ridiculous beanies like yours, we'll be having a very different conversation." His threat carried an undercurrent of something almost playful, though his protective nature remained evident.

She snorts, "Aw man, and here I was planning to knit her one"

Klaus' head snapped toward her, though his eyes betrayed a hint of reluctant amusement.

"You're testing my patience, love. Though I suppose it's better than your suggestion of reorganizing my art studio. A suggestion, mind you, that we will be discussing when you're less...hungover."

They make their way to the cabin, Hayley stepping out and holding a baby in her arms. The baby couldn't be more than a year and a half.

"Omg," Y/N says under her breath, "Klaus, she's adorable," She says with wide eyes and a wider grin. Y/N was waiting for Klaus to go ahead so she could follow.

Klaus watched your reaction with intense scrutiny, something softening in his expression at your genuine delight.

"Of course she is. She's my daughter." Despite his arrogant words, his voice carried unmistakable pride and tenderness. "Though I warn you - that adorable facade hides a rather impressive talent for mischief." He placed his hand on her lower back again, guiding her forward with possessive intent.

He moved toward Hayley and Hope, though his usual threatening demeanor was notably tempered. "Little wolf," he addressed Hayley with a nod before his attention fixed entirely on Hope, his entire being transforming in his daughter's presence. "And there's my littlest wolf." He turned back to Y/N with an uncharacteristically genuine expression. "Well? Are you going to stand there gawking, or would you like to meet the most powerful witch in New Orleans?"

Y/N smiles, "Hey there, little one," she says in a soft tone, raising her hand hesitantly before seeing Hayley nod in approval. she finally brings her hand to Hopes's head, stroking gently. "Aren't you just the cutest thing ever? Wait" She looks to Klaus, "Did you say witch?"

Klaus watched your interaction with Hope intently, a rare genuine smile playing at his lips before it turned into his signature smirk at your question.

"Firstborn Mikaelson witches are rather... special." He moved closer, his presence protective over both Y/N and Hope. "Though perhaps we should save the magical theory lesson for when you're not still recovering from last night's... adventures." His eyes glinted with amusement.

He observed as Hope reached for her hair with fascination, her tiny fingers grasping at the strands. "Careful love, she has her father's habit of getting what she wants." His voice carried both warning and pride. "Though I must say, she seems rather... taken with you. Usually, she sets things on fire when meeting new people." He shared a knowing look with Hayley before turning back to Y/N. 

"I suppose this means your position as my assistant just became considerably more... permanent."

"Yay, me," she says sarcastically. "So this was just a test? And stop bringing up my 'adventure' last night. It's not like–Ouch," she winces as Hope tugs her hair.

Klaus moved with vampire speed, his hand gently but firmly disentangling Hope's grip from your hair. His proximity was deliberately intimidating, though his touch remained careful.

"Now, littlest wolf," his voice carried an amused warning, "we don't want to scare away daddy's assistant before she's had a chance to knit you that ridiculous beanie, do we?" He smirked at her reaction before adding, "And as for last night's adventures... consider yourself lucky I'm only mentioning the PG portions in present company."

Y/N's eyes widen slightly and her head snaps to an amused Hayley, "I assure you, that means absolutely nothing"

Klaus maintained his position close to Y/N, one hand still hovering protectively near Hope while the other settled possessively on her lower back. "Though you're right about one thing - this was indeed a test. One you've passed... surprisingly well. Perhaps those human dreams of yours aren't as incompatible with your position as you thought. After all..." his smirk turned soft, "Hope could use someone in her life who actually ages."

Klaus watched as Hope reached for Y/N again, his ancient mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Her natural ease with his daughter stirred something dangerous within him - a want he hadn't anticipated. The way she smiled at Hope, genuine and warm, without any trace of the fear most showed around his family, reminded him painfully of Camille. Yet this was different.

Her stubborn insistence on remaining human, her fierce defense of mortality - it should infuriate him. Instead, he found himself increasingly fascinated by her humanity, by the way she challenged him while somehow becoming more essential to his carefully constructed world. The thought of her eventually leaving, of pursuing those human dreams she spoke of so passionately, caused a possessive rage he wasn't prepared to examine.

Having her meet Hope wasn't just a test of loyalty - it was a calculated move to bind her closer, to give her another reason to stay. The fact that Hope took to her so naturally only complicated matters. He found himself imagining Y/N as a permanent fixture in their lives, helping raise Hope with that peculiar human perspective he both mocked and secretly valued. It was a dangerous path of thinking - one that made him want to either turn her immediately or lock her away where nothing could harm her precious mortality.

Yet watching Y/N now, her hair catching the bayou sunlight as she interacted with his daughter, Klaus felt his carefully maintained control slipping. She was becoming more than just an asset, more than just an amusing human pet project. The realization made him want to either kill her or keep her forever - and he wasn't entirely sure which option was more dangerous.

Hayley turns to Y/N, "Y/N, I'd love to get to know you but could you hold Hope for a moment? I have some things to discuss with Klaus"

"Of course! I'd be happy to" she responds with an excited smile, taking Hope into her arms. She walks off the porch and goes towards the lake, talking to Hope

Klaus watched as she walked away with his daughter, every muscle in his body coiled with protective instinct. The sight of her holding Hope stirred something primal in him - a mixture of possessiveness and... something else he refused to name.

"She's different." Hayley's voice interrupted his focused observation of how naturally she adjusted Hope in her arms, how his daughter's delighted giggles carried across the bayou air.

His jaw clenched, eyes never leaving her form as she pointed out something in the water to Hope. "She's human." The words came out more defensive than intended, laced with frustration. "And stubborn enough to insist on staying that way." He fought the urge to use vampire speed to close the distance when Hope reached for her necklace.

A low growl escaped him as he watched Y/N navigate the muddy ground with careful steps, protecting his daughter with instinctive grace. "She's temporary." The words tasted like lies even as he spoke them, his fingers flexing with the need to possess, to control, to keep. "A useful assistant, nothing more." Yet even as he said it, he knew - she was becoming dangerously close to being everything.

Hayley rolls her eyes, "really, Klaus? Is that what you tell yourself? I keep in touch with Rebekah you know." She teases before her expression softens, "Klaus, it's okay to let someone in again. you deserve to be happy"

Klaus' expression darkened dangerously, though his eyes remained fixed on Y/N's form by the water.

"Rebekah should learn to hold her tongue before I remove it." His voice carried lethal promise but lacked its usual conviction. He watched as she laughed at something Hope did, the sound carrying across the bayou. 

"And happiness is a luxury I can't afford. Not when it comes with an expiration date."

His hands clenched into fists as he observed Hope patting Y/N's cheeks, her gentle response making something in his chest twist uncomfortably. 

"She wants children, Hayley. A mortal life. To grow old." The words came out like a curse. "And I find myself..." he paused, jaw clenching, "unable to decide whether to turn her against her will or let her go entirely. Both options are becoming increasingly... unacceptable." His voice dropped to a whisper, watching as Y/N carefully kept Hope from grabbing at a dragonfly.

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They spend the day with Hope and Hayley, and when she goes in to put Hope down for a nap, Y/N turns to Klaus.

"Klaus" she whispers, "I have a question"

Klaus turned to her, his expression still conflicted from the day's events.

"By all means, love." He moved closer, invading her personal space like usual. "Though if you're about to ask me about last night's escapades again..." 

She rolls her eyes, "No, and I'm done hearing about last night." she furrows her brows as she thinks about the question

He intensely scrutinized her face, noting how the afternoon light caught the gold in her hair. "Well? Out with it. Or has spending the day with a baby witch rendered you speechless?" His teasing carried an undercurrent of something almost... gentle.

"I thought vampires can't procreate...?

"Ah. Finally caught that particular detail, did you?" He moved closer, his presence deliberately intimidating. "I'm not just any vampire, love. I'm the Original Hybrid - half vampire, half werewolf. Nature's loophole, if you will." His smirk turned predatory. "Though I must say, your curiosity about my... reproductive capabilities is rather interesting."

He leaned in, his breath ghosting your ear. "Hope was a miracle. One that nearly cost me everything to protect." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Which is precisely why so few know of her existence. Those who do either die... or become family." The implications in his tone were heavy with meaning. "I trust you understand which category you're currently falling into?"

Klaus leans back, his tone thoughtful. "Vampirism, you see, is a curse. When a human or witch is turned, they lose their humanity—they become something entirely different, a new species. They lose the ability to procreate, they can’t walk in the sun... all the things that make them human, gone." He smirks slightly. "But werewolves? They’re different. They’re hybrids from the start—half human, half wolf. Both sides can still procreate, still walk in the sun. When they trigger their curse, they don’t lose their human traits the way a vampire does."

His expression darkens slightly. "Now, here’s the trick—vampirism doesn’t affect werewolves the same way. They can’t just turn into vampires; if they try, they die. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen when I tried to create more hybrids." Klaus leans forward, eyes gleaming. "There are two ways for a werewolf to become a vampire. First, they die with my blood in their system and then drink doppelganger blood to complete the transition. Or, they drink Hope’s blood. That’s the key." He pauses, letting the weight of it sink in.

Y/N tilts her head slightly, "So...when a werewolf turns this way, only their human side becomes a vampire—the wolf side remains immune...right?"

He grins. "Clever girl. Yes, a very particular set of circumstances, but it works." He leaned in, his breath ghosting her ear. "Hope was a miracle. One that nearly cost me everything to protect." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Which is precisely why so few know of her existence. Those who do either die... or become family." The implications in his tone were heavy with meaning. "I trust you understand which category you're currently falling into?"

She nods, but Hayley returns before she can say anything. Y/N takes a step back, clearing her throat

Klaus watched her retreat with amusement, though annoyance flashed in his eyes at the distance she put between them.

"Perfect timing as always, Hayley." His voice carried a dangerous edge as he turned to Hayley, though his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N. "I trust our littlest witch is settled?" He moved with calculated grace to maintain his proximity to Y/N despite her attempt to create space.

His hand found its way to her lower back again, the touch deliberately possessive. "Perhaps it's time we headed back. Unless..." he turned to Y/N, "you'd like to continue our discussion about hybrid biology?" The teasing threat in his voice was clear, though there was something else underlying it - something almost protective after the day's revelations.

She elbows him, “No. Besides, it’s getting dark, and we still have to walk all the way to the car…in the muddy Bayou,” she groans.

Klaus caught her elbow, his grip firm but careful as his smirk widened.

"Careful, love. I might take that as an invitation." Before she could protest, he swept her into his arms gracefully. "Consider this a reward for not dropping my daughter today." His voice carried mock generosity, though his hold was possessively secure.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as Klaus did that in front of Hayley

He nodded to Hayley with uncharacteristic warmth. "We'll return soon." Then, turning his attention back to Y/ with amusement, "Now, hold on tight, sweetheart. Unless you'd prefer I let the mosquitoes have their way with you?" His eyes glinted with mischief. "Though I must say, your earlier complaints about my speed were rather... entertaining."

She just glares at him, “you’ve got to stop doing this” she says as he walks out of the cabin, crossing her arms and refusing to hold on

Klaus' grip tightened deliberately as he felt her defiance

"Do I?" He purposely took a particularly jarring step, his supernatural balance ensuring she wouldn't fall despite your stubbornness. "And here I thought you enjoyed our little... excursions. Especially after last night's enthusiastic commentary about my carrying capabilities."

He paused at the edge of the clearing, his expression darkening with dangerous intent. "Last chance to hold on properly, love. Unless you'd prefer I demonstrate exactly how fast I can move through this swamp?" His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "Though I should warn you - at vampire speed, those branches you so carefully avoided earlier become rather... unavoidable."

She lets out a loud sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck

Klaus' smirk turned triumphant, though something softer flickered in his eyes at her closeness.

"There's a good girl." His voice carried both mockery and satisfaction as he adjusted his hold, drawing her closer to his chest. "Though your reluctance is rather amusing, considering how eagerly you clung to me last night." He started moving with supernatural grace through the bayou, his speed calculated to be just unsettling enough to make her hold on tighter.

The darkening sky cast shadows through the trees as he navigated the treacherous terrain. "I must say, love, you handled Hope remarkably well today." His tone shifted to something more serious, though no less dangerous. "Though this does mean you're rather... irreplaceable now. Can't have my daughter growing attached to someone who plans to leave, can we?" The threat in his voice was subtle but clear, masked beneath a layer of casual conversation.

They get to the car and she waits for him to let her go, but he doesn't, "Klaus. You can put me down now" she grumbles

Klaus chuckles, his grip remaining firm as he holds her against his chest.

"And deny myself the pleasure of your discomfort?" He smirks but makes no move to release her. "Besides, after your impressive performance with Hope today, I'm feeling rather... possessive." His eyes glinted dangerously in the fading light.

He finally set her down with exaggerated slowness, though his hands lingered longer than necessary. "Though I must admit, your stubborn defiance is becoming rather... entertaining." His voice dropped to a threatening whisper. "Almost as entertaining as your drunken confessions about how safe you feel in my arms."

She rubs her temples, "I'm never drinking around you again," she mumbles, pulling on the car door handle, but the car is locked. "Klaus! Open the car." She pulls on it a couple more times

Klaus watched her frustration with amusement, taking his time to fish the keys from his pocket.

"Perhaps next time you'll think twice before reorganizing my study." He dangled the keys just out of reach, his smirk widening at her obvious annoyance. "Though your drunken confessions were rather... illuminating. Particularly the part about my dimples."

He finally unlocked the car with theatrical slowness, opening her door with mock chivalry. "And while your vow of sobriety is admirable, love, I rather enjoyed seeing you so... uninhibited. Though next time, perhaps we'll skip the part where you tried to alphabetize my weapons collection."

Y/N gets in the car, but Klaus doesn't close the door, instead leaning against the door with a smug smile, "What?" she says in annoyance, "I'm glad you're amused by this"

Klaus leaned further into the car space, his presence intimidating as he trapped her between himself and the seat.

"Amused doesn't quite cover it, love." He reached out, twirling a strand of her hair between his fingers.

His eyes darkened with something possessive. "Though I must say, your passionate speech about how the compound feels like home was particularly... compelling. Almost as compelling as your rather detailed observations about how well I fill out my henley shirts." He paused, letting the embarrassment sink in. "Shall I continue? I have quite the inventory of your drunken confessions."

She groans covering her face with her hands, "Just kill me already. Please"

Klaus let out a chuckle, reaching to pull her hands from her face with a gentleness that belied his predatory stance.

"Now where would be the fun in that?" His grip on her wrists remained possessive as his smirk widened. "Besides, after today's success with Hope, I'm rather invested in keeping you... alive and thoroughly mortified." He leaned closer, "Though I must say, your suggestion about where I could stick my painting brushes was rather... creative."

Finally releasing her wrists, he straightened up. "Consider your embarrassment penance for reorganizing my art supplies. Though if you'd prefer death..." his eyes glinted with amusement, "I could always share the rest of your confessions with Elijah. I'm sure he'd be particularly interested in your thoughts about his suit collection."

"get in the damn car, Klaus"

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We're slowly getting there with these two ;)

Once again, thanks for reading. All the comments and reblogs are so motivating. Feel free to comment anything, what you liked, or what you'd like to see. See you in part 4!

Part 4 here

ily <3

taglist: @vavafaure1994 @nicolettesdreamworld @holyredemption @ariesandwolves @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[entamesubs]

Yu-Gi-Oh! Go Rush!! Episode 138-139 Sub Release

Torrent

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Please make sure to read the FAQ if you have any questions.

We went on vacation for the holidays and are still in the midst of it. No ETA for the new arc episodes.

There are translation notes below, so spoilers ahead.

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

時空 / jikuu "Space-Time"

This seems like a very late place to bring it up, but since Kuaidul finally expanded on this concept this episode, it's worth mentioning!

I've seen a few people try to "correct" our translation of 'space-time' to 'dimension' because, in the context of that arc, it's basically what it was. A little Kuaidul pocket dimension.

However, if they really wanted to say dimension, they would've just called it ディメンション or 次元 (jiken).

I have written in many other notes before that I believe that all of Go Rush's vocabulary, speech, and word choices are extremely deliberate. They didn't call it Kuaidul's Dimension for a reason, and with his monologue of how things worked in this episode, it was finally explained to us why it was named that way.

It's his "space-time" because he was experimenting with space and time and their relation to each other in order to harness their powers. That "space-time" was his experiment, just like how the relic travelling to the future in the Ryugu brothers arc was also an experiment.

Hope that clears things up.

Empty Space vs Empty Canvas

This was one that I turned over in my head for a long while. While "empty space" is the most direct and literal translation of what Kuaidul uses to address Yuudias' special quality, I don't believe it's the best one.

A long time ago, while I was still very new to subbing in general and was working on SEVENS, I used "empty space" to refer to the hole in the Rush Duel code that Yuuga left that Neil later exploited.

I believe that was the best description of it because that is what it was, a blank space in the code. I bring this up because Kuaidul talking about Yuudias' "blank space" is an expansion of that same concept in SEVENS.

However, Yuudias is a person, and Rush Duel is a program. While "empty space" can be used to refer to code, it feels strange to also use the same thing to refer to Yuudias when it's in reference to his personality and special trait specific to him. Especially when that thing is something that allows him to grow and develop, aka allows that canvas to be filled.

It was with that thought that I decided to translate it as "empty canvas", implying that it's meant to be expanded/painted on.

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

Anyway, Kuaidul's monologue once again caused some delays as I wanted both proofreaders to check on it before I hit post. The team had already scattered for the holidays when these episodes aired, so it was simply waiting for people to be free and available again.

We are still scattered right now, so please be patient. Once again, there is no ETA on the newer episodes.

Also, I got into Alien Stage. 👾

[thepachy]

Some little wips

Just a very quick sketch/redraw of old Jacob now that i have tge perfect muse

Honestly i have no idea in which canon or au this is, like who survived, did the dep came or anything. Idk probably just the main old au

(the big spaces it’s because it’s missing parts)

In the new world. Joseph, the Father of what was once a big family walked to a distant place, away from his own garden, in the remaining mountains of the old Hope county

The old man walked to a sort of cabin, build by the two men he came seek for a possible help. He looked around at the porch, the little garden, some dog houses here and there. Rustic but they made it their home. Joseph continued his way toward the side of the house to where he saw one of the men. Still thin but looking healthier, with a kind of mullet like his younger days. There, trying to paint with some rudimentary paint he made. The old Father walked closer and let out a little greeting. "Oh ? Joseph ?" The man turned and gave him a little smile. The man was older, his burned marks still there but healed after so many years. They were placed at the same spots as his partner and the similarities made Joseph smile. All the more so as, as he grew older, the old painter’s beard became ginger. What was a little spot few years ago, grew to almost all his chin.

E- What is this visit worth, dear ?

J -i wanted to come visit you two. It’s been a while

-yeah… a while. so how’s the others ? In your new Eden ?

-it’s going well. My son can be difficult sometimes but one day he’ll grow in maturity, I’m sure

-Ethan ? The very few times i saw this one he looked like a little troublemaker

-sure he can be… and how are you ? You two are… pretty nice here uh ?

-yeah we sure are. Jacob really managed to build our own little Eden

-i see it. And where is The man ?

-oh, him ? Hunting our dinner with his pack

-his pack ? What did i missed ?

-well, while you were rebuilding your family and new Eden, the old man decided to uh… return to his experiences

-the judges ?

-yeah kinda but no. He made a bond with a little pack, raising them and all. Truly impressive if i wasn’t the one having to clean their mess

-i see you still pain ?

-yeah i try to do with what i have. Try making my own paint and yeah try to paint with the fingers i have left

-oh… what happened to these ?

-these ? A trap. Or maybe a wolf, i don’t remember well. Oh but look who’s finally here !"

Here came the mountain man in all his glory. The old wolf came from the woods with his little pack and a buck on his shoulders. He looked stronger, well fed like if he was scared he had to eat someone else. The old age made him hairier and loose his colors, more grey and white but some ginger hair were still visible. He aged well, we could say.

_________

E- Joseph we told you that we both decided to quit all this a while ago. So we’re no-

Ja- I’m still the one deciding here in case you forgot ! I told you that if you needed something I’ll still be there okay ?

Jo- i appreciate brother.

E- but we-

Ja- we will find a solution okay ?

E- okay. Whatever you do, I’ll follow you

Ja- i know, honey…

Jo- Listen brother, i just want you to come check us as you rarely do it and by the way help us find a way for the security

Ja- the security ?

Jo- yes. Recently, strangers came to steal things and i refuse to let’s them harm my family

E- yeah it’s true being pacifist doesn’t really help in that, uh ?

Jo- no. So i just want you to come and maybe help me find a better solution, okay ?

Ja- …. Fine

Jo- thank you broth-

Ja- BUT. My husband and I will com-

E- wait wow! Husband ?

Ja- what now ?

E- so we spent almost 10 years here alone without doing nothing about this because you didn’t wanted to make any celebration and then your brother comes and you say we’re husbands just like that ?!

Ja- … surprise ? Anyway, so we’ll come with you, find a solution then come back to our Eden. Understood ?

_________

Jo- thank you very much my chil-

E- Don’t. Don’t call me like that.

Jo- … excuse me…

E- I’ll go prepare this buck and clean the pack. Give me this… and uh, do your things.

Ja- thanks honey…

…

Jo- so he’s still angry at me uh ?… with how he greeted me earlier, i though maybe he-

Ja- you know he’ll never forgive you, Joseph.

Jo- … i can understand

Ja- you can’t. You’re not the one who spent 6 years locked in the same bunker as him, seeing how he hated himself for all the things we had done and forced him to do. You’re not the one who had to see his guilt for keeping me alive, literally eating himself alive.

-brother i know how hard it was

-listen. I decided to sacrifice a lot okay. Just like you and just like my man sacrificed everything to keep me on this earth, that’s why i took the hard decision to move away from you… so we’ll come to help you and the others because they’re still part of the family but you’re little trick to bring us back to your flock will not work, you hear me ? I finally have another reason to live other than war so I’ll not let you put me in another one.

-… fine. You help me and my Eden then I’ll leave you to yours

-good.

…

now come inside and stay for the night but quickly. Before the pack start eating our dinner

_____

That’s it for now !