#like the first one i did - i say first one - i had a couple before but those have been lost to the sands of time

[lizardsfromspace]

I've looped around from finding the belief that The Wizard of Oz was "the first color film" or "first technicolor film" understandable if wrong to finding it deeply annoying

Like. I get how it feels true - how the transition from sepia to technicolor in the film feels epochal, and how it's a springboard to people imagining how AMAZING and how AWESTRUCK audiences must've been at the time, but it just isn't the case, and no one in 1939 would've thought it was the first color film.

I mean, you've probably seen Snow White (1937) and Adventures of Robin Hood (1938). At the time color features were becoming more common, and they had been common in cartoons and shorts for years.

On a base level, if The Wizard of Oz was such a monumental moment in film history, giving people something they've never seen before, why did it only break even at the box office? By all accounts while not a flop it did decently but not great, and it only became a Cherished Classic thanks to TV airings later on. I mean, 1939 saw what is still, if adjusted for inflation, the highest grossing film ever made, and it wasn't The Wizard of Oz

Here is the actual history of color: most silent films were tinted, most commonly with different scenes being all tinted different colors, but more rarely hand-coloring. But back then people started experimenting with many different "true" color film systems, most of which failed for one reason or another, and there were a couple silent features made in two-strip technicolor, which had a more limited palette. At the start of the sound era, some black & white scenes would have color segments; this stage has been largely forgotten bc in many cases, the color segments don't survive & we only have them in black and white. Then three-strip technicolor began and became the dominant form of color until the late 1950s, with the first full-length three-strip technicolor film being 1935's classic...Becky Sharp. Which did decently, and got one Oscar nom for Best Actress, but didn't really become a classic. And then color films became more common until they became the norm in the 1960s

But it has to be a classic, right? It can't just be some random movie that ushered in technicolor. It has to be a famous movie everyone's heard of. It can't have been a gradual process touched by many individual artists, it has to be something one Great Man ushered in overnight, and the crowds were amazed, bc they had just been waiting for someone to Do Color Film so they could ditch black & white forever. It couldn't have been the case that they rejected many previous attempts at color film bc they sucked. Nothing can ever be the result of many people making many choices in many works of art, it has to be the work of one Great Work of Art that Changed Everything Instantly, and all the little people and failed experiments and less-enduring ones just have to be erased to make way

But it isn't. The transition from sepia to color in The Wizard of Oz did dazzle audiences, and still does, but that's because it's a incredibly well-done visual effect and a creative choice within the story to show the change from Kansas to Oz. We don't have to say it was important bc it was the first to do something technologically; it can be important for just being a really good movie

[janeyseymour]

Drunk Actions, Sober Thoughts

Summary: Janine's end of the school year party gets a little out of hand- handsy.

WC: ~3.2k

You’ve been a teacher at Abbott Elementary for a few years now, teaching alongside Gregory Eddie as a first grade teacher. And because you’re grade-level partners with one of the  more infamous teachers at the school, you become friends with that group- the group of teachers who tend to be a bit more outspoken and have more of an in with the, at times inconsistent and slightly ridiculous, principal.

You weren’t always a part of that group, but after a couple of months, they began to welcome you with open arms. The one teacher that took you under her wing the most was none other than South Philly Princess Melissa Schemmenti. The rough and tough, often hard to read, leather jacket and eyeliner wearing badass of the school grew close to you quickly once you showed her that you were here to stay.

You don’t even really understand why she took to you the way that she did, but you aren’t complaining. It’s much better to be on her good side rather than her bad side. Although, you would dare to say that she doesn’t have a bad side; she always looks phenomenal.

Because you have this in with the iconic group of Abbott Elementary, you manage to get yourself an invitation to the “party of the century” as Janine Teagues is putting it.

“You’re going, right?” Melissa asks you at lunch.

You chuckle. “Of course I’m going.” Then you lean in closer to her and Barbara. “If only to watch those two-“ You point to Janine and Gregory flirting. “-finally get their shit together.”

Barbara smirks knowingly. “I have a feeling they will.”

“One can only hope,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “They need to get their heads out of their asses and just fuck already.”

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher scolds as she smacks her friend’s hand.

The redhead can only shrug. She stands by what she uttered.

You just nudge the woman beside you before closing up your container and standing. “And on that note,” you laugh. “I actually do have some final things I have to finish up in the classroom, so I’ll see you all tonight.”

You leave with a small wave and a smile, and as you turn to go, Melissa’s eyes don’t leave your body.

“Girl,” Barbara’s deep voice pulls the redhead out of her trance. “You got it bad for her.”

Green eyes are rolled so hard that the kindergarten teacher is shocked they don’t get stuck that way. “I do not.”

“I have a feeling Gregory and Janine aren’t going to be the only ones who get it together tonight,” is all the kindergarten teacher mutters to her best friend.

“Oh please,” Melissa groans. “And even if I did have a thing for her, which I do not, it’d never happen. Ain’t no way a young thing like that would want… this.”

Barbara almost quips about how she’s caught you hanging onto every word that Melissa says, how your eyes rarely leave her figure when she isn’t looking, how you tend to follow her around like a lost puppy dog. But she doesn’t. Instead, Barb just shrugs.

The two older women of the friend group show up to Janine’s house an hour early to help get the place in order. And oh is it a good thing they did, at least that’s what they think. In reality, the second grade teacher had planned for that- the life of poor Janine. But they manage to get the small apartment ready in time for the party to begin.

And quietly, Barbara Howard tells herself that she’s going to play matchmaker. She’ll get Gregory and Janine together as much as possible, and she’s also going to attempt to get you and her work wife to finally see what’s going on between the two of you.

A drunk Melissa tends to be a more confident (not that she could get much more confident than she already is) and affectionate person than a sober Melissa. But in order for the redhead to get to that place of feeling good, Land Barbara knows that she’s going to have to let Sea Barbara out of her cage. So right as guests begin to arrive, the kindergarten teacher pours two shots and hands one to her work wife. The two take them in tandem, and then Barbara is mixing up two cocktails- strong cocktails.

“Jesus, Barb,” the second grade teacher grimaces as she wipes the little droplet that dribbled down her chin. “Are you tryin’ to get Sea Barbara to come out?”

The kindergarten teacher just gives an innocent smile, points to the cup, and takes another large swig of her own drink. Melissa follows. 

By the time that you show to the little apartment, the party is in full swing. Janine lets you in with a smile, Gregory by her side. You give your grade-level partner a curious look, but he shakes his head subtly.

“Come in! Come in!” the second grade teacher is all grins. “The- the party got a little hectic, and not everyone is in their assigned places, but… it’s a party!”

You just chuckle and thank Janine for hosting as you step inside. Your eyes scan the place, and in the center of the dance floor is that vibrant red hair that you were hoping to see. She’s… wow. And Barbara is right next to her dancing with a cardboard cutout of… why is Barbara dancing with a cardboard cutout of Allen Iverson?

Despite your confusion about what is taking place in the center of the room, you make your way over.

“Hey, hey,” you yell over the loud music.

“Oh my God!” Melissa yells as she practically throws herself at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Had dinner with my mom,” you chuckle as you hold her in your arms. Wow. She gives good hugs. And despite the fact that she’s very hot from dancing in such a small space, she smells incredible. “But I’m here now!”

“Yes you are!” Green eyes scan over your outfit, and you can’t help but notice the way that her gaze lingers on the deep neckline of your shirt. “Wow. You look incredible!”

The lights are dim enough that the redhead hopefully can’t see the blush that creeps into your cheeks. You thank God for that one.

“Barb!” Melissa taps her friend. “Look! My girl finally made it!”

Her girl? You hope that your surprise at that title doesn’t show on your face. You just smile and wave to the kindergarten teacher who already seems to be quite inebriated.

“We gotta get you a drink!” the second grade teacher grins. She’s pulling you off towards the drink section before you can even figure out what’s happening.

“Here,” Melissa pours you a rum and coke and shoves it into your hand before you can politely decline the offer.

“Oh,” you chuckle softly. “I wasn’t really planning on drinking tonight… have breakfast with my dad tomorrow morning, and don’t wanna show up too hungover.”

The redhead nods along before reaching for the solo cup and taking a sip of her own concoction. She screws her eyes shut tightly as she swallows. “Damn, I made that strong.”

You roll your eyes before taking the beverage back into your hand and taking a small sip. “Oh my…” you suck in a breath. “Wow, Mel.”

She shrugs with a smile before taking you back into the center of the party. The crowd is mostly people you know, but there are a few unfamiliar faces, or faces that maybe you weren’t quite expecting to be here.

After you ask who one person is, you find yourself being tugged alongside Melissa as she introduces you to those that you aren’t very aware of who they are. It’s hard for you to focus though, because the redhead keeps a warm hand on the small of your back almost the entire time, and whenever someone gets a bit too close to you for her liking, Melissa pulls you flush against her. Each time she does that, her grip gets just the slightest bit tighter on you. It really wouldn’t take that much more to just… lean over and kiss her cheek, or have her kiss yours. You find yourself wishing that’s what would happen, but it never does.

It also catches your attention that she almost always introduces you to everyone as ‘her girl’. You hate to admit it, but you practically glow each and every time she calls you that. You hope you aren’t being too obvious in your feelings for the redhead beside you. Even if you are though, you’re fairly certain that you’re the only relatively sober one here, and then woman clinging to you is beyond hammered at this point.

“My girl,” Melissa nearly purrs as she takes a sip from the red cup that you’ve been carrying around for her. “Thanks for holding my drink, babe.”

“Babe?” you raise your brow with a laugh.

The redhead just shrugs with a grin and shoots you a wink. She finishes it off, sets the cup on the counter, and then she’s pulling you back into the center of the party- the dance floor.

Her hands are all over your body as you dance. They find their way to your back, your hips, and then you feel a hand slip into the back pocket of your jeans as she pulls you closer.

“Mel,” you gasp out in surprise.

She pulls her hand out of your pocket immediately. “Sorry, I- sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be,” you smile at her. If she’s going to touch you, now is the time. She won’t remember it tomorrow, and it’s not like this will ever happen again. “I know I have a great ass, and the only person I would want touching it is you.” You delicately take her hand and put it back where it was.

Melissa’s perfectly drawn on brows creep up her forehead ever so slightly before she resumes her dancing.

From a few paces over, Barbara clocks that act, and she shoots the cameraman an impressed look before going back to dancing with a cardboard Allen Iverson. 

All good things must come to an end, and after about an hour of having the woman of your dreams pressed up against you tightly, practically grinding on you with her hand in your back pocket and squeezing gently from time to time, the party begins to die out. People begin to say their goodbyes, Janine is starting to clean things up, and you see that it’s probably your cue to start heading home for the night. You glance at the clock on the wall, and it’s nearing two in the morning.

The redhead still right by your side, holding onto your arm, whines slightly when the music goes off. She doesn’t extract her hand from your pocket though.

“I think it’s about time we start heading out,” you chuckle gently.

“But I’m having a great time,” Melissa mumbles against your neck.

Your cheeks once again heat up at feeling her hot breath against your skin. Still, you shake your head, and you glance over to Barbara who is attempting to find her shoes that she discarded long ago.

“Barb, how are you getting home?”

“Oh I called Gerald,” the kindergarten teacher promises you.

“Can I hitch a ride?” Melissa asks her work wife. “I don’ wanna get into an Uber like this.”

Barbara, who would usually always take her best friend home, shakes her head though. “Melissa, I am exhausted, and I need to get to bed. I’m sure Y/N will take you home though, right dear?”

You nod. “Yeah, I can take Mel back,” you smile. “Not a problem at all.”

The redhead, in her drunken state, just grins and kisses your cheek before sticking her tongue out at her work wife. “Hear that, Barbie? I don’ need you to give me a ride- not when I have my girl here with me.”

The lights of course turn on before the blush dissipates from your cheeks, and there’s a small stain of where Melissa had kissed your cheek.

“Alright, Mel, let’s start heading out, yeah?” you chuckle softly.

Her hand only leaves your back pocket briefly to hug Barb goodbye, and then it’s slipped right back to where it’s been for the last hour. “You ready to take me home?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s go, hun.”

You get her to your car, and then when she struggles with the buckle, you can’t help the slight giggle that escapes your lips. She turns to you with a pout.

“Oh, don’t do that,” you laugh softly. With ease, you clip the seatbelt. “Alright, Mel. You gotta direct me.”

She gets you back to her house with ease, although you can’t help but be the slightest bit distracted because while her hand isn’t resting in your back pocket anymore, it’s sitting on your knee and every once in a while glides up to your thigh. Her thumb rubs circles on your jeans warmly, and you can feel her gaze on you.

You pull in to her driveway and smile at her softly.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Melissa sighs quietly. “Would you want to come in?”

Silently, you turn the key to turn your car off and climb out. You’re at her side a few seconds later, opening the door and holding out a hand to help her out of the car.

The two of you walk up to her house hand in hand, and then Melissa is pulling her keys from her purse. She fumbles with the lock for a few seconds, and then when she pulls the keys out of the lock, she drops them. 

You lean down to pick them up, and when you stand back up, her lips are on your own. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to your body, but the second it does, you’re kissing her back. It’s only a few seconds, but it’s everything you could’ve imagined and more. But you know she’s nowhere near sober.

“Melissa,” you whisper.

Her hand cups your cheek and pulls you in again. You can taste the rum that she was drinking earlier on in the night, but you can’t find yourself to care. Despite the fact that your brain is screaming at you to stop kissing a drunk Melissa, you can’t stop. 

She pushes the door open, and before you know it, you’re pinned up against the wall, and her lips are hungrily on your neck, teeth just barely grazing your collarbone. Her hands and wandering all over your body.

When you realize that she isn’t going to stop any time soon, you know you have to put your foot down. You’re not about to cross a boundary- not when she’s absolutely hammered.

“Mel, you gotta-” You sigh softly. “You gotta stop.”

“I don’t want to,” she whines.

You pull her face away from your chest gently. “And I don’t want you to, but… you’re not in the right state of mind.”

“I’m in the perfect state of mind,” the redhead tells you. “I- I want you.”

“Not like this,” you tell her firmly. “Not when you’re hammered out of your mind. I’m not going to take advantage of you like this.”

“You wouldn’t be,” she continues to try to convince you to keep going.

You shake your head. “Mel, I- I care about you a lot. I don’t want you making a mistake that you aren’t going to want to face tomorrow.”

“It ain’t a mistake,” she tells you. “I been into you since you started workin’ at Abbott. Just didn’t think you’d be into this.”

“Oh, I am,” you chuckle, and you feel the red in your ears, your cheeks, and your chest. “But I think that maybe we should talk about this later… not while you’re drunk.”

“Drunk words and actions are sober thoughts,” Melissa tells you.

You roll your eyes. “I know, hun. I know. But I- I think we need to have a real conversation about this tomorrow.”

“Fine,” the redhead pouts. “But I still don’t want this night to end.”

You smile at her softly. “Why don’t we just hang out then?”

She nods against you, and she pulls you up to her bedroom.

“Melissa.”

“Not for that,” she waves you off. “Just want to change, figured you would want to change too.” She throws a tee and shorts your way.

You make your way to the bathroom and change before knocking on the bedroom door before entering. When you walk in, Melissa is propped up in her bed and scrolling on her phone.

You sit next to her, and your coworker rolls her eyes. “You don’t gotta be so stiff. I ain’t gonna try nothin’ right now. Just want to relax.”

You sigh softly, but you move slightly closer to her. You set your alarm just in case you end up falling asleep here, and then you set your phone down.

“I really do like you, you know. I don’t just want sex from you,” Melissa tells you. “Just needed some liquid courage.”

“I believe you,” you yawn out quietly. “Just don’t want you making a decision while you’re in this state.”

“See, and that’s what I love about you,” the redhead sets her phone down, takes her glasses off, and lays herself down. “You’re you- warm, sweet, considerate, caring… stunning to look at.”

“Get some sleep,” you chuckle softly.

Melissa yawns. “Don’t go tonight though.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “But I do have to slip out early tomorrow morning to meet my dad, so please don’t be concerned if I have to leave before you wake up.”

“I won’t,” your coworker says sleepily. Her eyes close, and she’s sound asleep within minutes.

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm. Your body is practically underneath Melissa- her arms are wound around your waist tightly, her head rests on your chest, and there’s a smile on her lips as she sleeps. It’s hard to tell where her body ends and yours begins.

You shimmy slightly just to turn off your alarm so it doesn’t wake her. Gently, so gently, you untangle yourself from her and slip out of the bed. You gather your things as quietly as you can, and you somehow manage to make your way out of the bedroom without waking her.

Once you’re in the living room, you manage to find a pad and pencil and write her a short, but sweet, note.

I had to slip out to meet my dad for breakfast, but I’ll come by after. We can talk then, because I really do want to talk about the things that happened last night. 

You sign your name with a scrawled out heart, and then you exit the house, mind swirling with what journey you could possibly be embarking on with the redhead of your dreams if she was serious about the things she said last night. 

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[kimoralov3]

a/n: this was supposed to be 100-200 words...anyways @arkofblake @ivysprophecy @murdockcastleslut

warnings: this is my first time writing smut, language, jj is an eater, praise, slight degradation

despite your best efforts, things always ended up like this. jj’s head between your legs when it probably shouldn’t be, your hand gripping onto his hair as if it were your life line. 

currently, the two of you were in the bathroom of some random kook’s party. the plan for the night was to get drunk and have fun with your friends to help one of them forget about their recent break up. that plan went out the window when jj and his friends crashed the party.

the two of you locked eyes almost instantly, but you made an effort to avoid him as much as possible. after all, you were here for your friend, not the handsome pogue that had swept you off your feet— literally— a couple months prior.

“ew, is he staring at you?” your friend asked, raising her voice slightly so she could be heard over the music. you snapped your attention away from jj, narrowly missing the smirk that graced his lips. ���fucking pogues.” she grumbles as she downs the rest of her drink.

even before you and jj started hooking up, you found the whole “kooks vs. pogues” thing idiotic. but you’d agree for the sake of appearances, pushing out some half assed agreement. lately, it’d become harder to do that. 

just as it was becoming harder to ignore jj’s eyes on your body, as if he hadn’t already spent countless hours memorizing every inch he could get his hands on. you turned to your friend, spewing out something about needing another drink. she waved you off, her attention now on some boy. good for her, or whatever. 

you didn’t need to look behind you to know that jj was following your every move. you barely even make it into the bathroom and onto the counter when jj comes in, locking the door behind him. 

jj walked over to the bathroom counter, placing his arms on either side of you so you couldn’t escape. “do you enjoy being a tease, mama?”

you pouted your glossed lips, putting on your best innocent act. “whatever do you mean, jj?”

“don’t play coy with me.” he says as his hands find their way onto your hips, sliding you closer. you flash him a sweet smile as you wrap your legs tightly around him, causing a low growl to fall from his lips. “what did i just say? huh?” he asks as he pinches your hip.

“i don’t know jj, i think i need a reminder.” you whisper as you lean closer to the blonde, your lips just barely brushing against his lips. jj leans forward as well, but instead of kissing you as you had hoped he would, he allows his lips to lightly brush along your jaw and down your neck.

“such a naughty little slut, aren’t you?” he mummers as he nicks you here and there. you moan softly as you tilt your head back, a hand coming up to grip his shoulder.

“come on, please.” you whine. jj smirks, pulling back to come face to face with you.

“how could i ever say no to someone so pretty?” he asks before pecking your lips, getting on his knees between your legs. whimpers pour from you like a fountain as he presses open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart so he could settle in more comfortably. “would live down here if i could.” he whispers as he brings a finger to trail through your clothed slit.

“jj, hurry up.” you say as you bite down on your lip, nearly drawing blood from how needy you are. 

“if you say so, mama.” you hear jj say. his words are followed by the sound of fabric ripping, causing you to yelp and look down at him.

“did you just rip my underwear?” you ask in shock as you watch him pocket the item.

he shrugs, gripping your thighs and pulling you even closer to the edge of the counter. “you told me to hurry up. now shut up and let me enjoy my meal.”

with those final words his lips are on you, moaning at the taste of you. your head falls back as jj licks you up and down, curses falling from your lips. you grip onto the counter for support, lifting your hips up to push jj closer to where you need him most. he pulls away immediately, pinching your inner thigh hard.

“don’t be greedy. if you want more, ask for it.” he says as he brings a hand up to your hips, holding you firmly in place. 

“more.” you mumble, your mind starting to go fuzzy from his ministrations. 

“good girl.” jj whispers, placing a kiss to your inner thigh before focusing all his attention to your clit. a sharp moan tears itself from your throat, your hand burying itself in his blonde locks as he sucks on it. 

“fuck jj, don’t stop.” and a chorus of other encouragements find their way into the air as jj goes between sucking and licking. at some point your eyes screw shut, causing you to miss jj’s hand snaking it’s way up your torso and cupping your breast. 

“fuck, you taste so good mama.” jj whines into your pussy. that, in combination with the licking and slurping sounds nearly sends you over the edge, and jj can clearly tell that you’re close. “you gonna come for me, hm? come on mama, be a pretty girl and cum on my tongue.” 

“oh my god!” you shout as the band inside you snaps, head tilted back as you tug on the strands of his hair. he helps you through your orgasm, whispering praises the whole time. once you’re completely through it, he stands up, the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“not bad for a pogue, huh?” he asks, causing you to weakly shove him away. he laughs at your feeble attempt, catching your arms in his and bringing them around his neck. “you did so well for me, yeah?”

you mumble something incoherently, still trying to catch your breath. jj rubs your back soothingly, pressing gentle kisses anywhere he can reach. after a moment, you look up at him with a glare. “you ripped my underwear.”

the shit eating grin returns, jj very proud of himself. “yeah, i did. but don’t pretend you didn’t like it. saw the way your breath stopped for a second there.” you can’t come up with a decent response to that, so you just shove him away again, this time a little more successful. “come on, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your friends.” he says as he helps you down from the counter.

“fuck them, i’m going home with you.” you say as you lean on him for support. he chuckles at that, an arm circling around your waist.

“fine by me.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ ｓｗｅｅｔｎｅｒ ♡

♡ Pairing: couple!woosan x best friend!fem!reader, best friend!ateez

♡ Genre: fluff/smut/angst

♡ Summary: After a terrible breakup two of your dearest friends welcomed you into their home. Living with them has been a total dream so far, one that has you developing feelings you aren't quite ready to face but, when a dinner with your friend group forces you to confront those feelings, you realize that you might not be the only one who has them.

♡ Word Count: 6.8kish

♡ Warnings: woo and san are indeed a couple, boys kissing, kissing in general, drinking, threesome, lots of praise, unprotected sex, soft dom woosan, oral sex (m&f receving), some clit play, nipple play, nibbling, hickeys, a lil manhandling, double penetration, creampie, swallowing, finger sucking, some booty slaps, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (sweetie, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), and that's all darlings.

♡ A/N: I really wanted to write a nice, warm lil comfort fic and this was the result of that. As I always say, I hope you sweet baby darlings enjoy this. Especially my WooSan babes out there.

When you first decided to move in with Wooyoung and San everyone warned you that it might not be the best idea. The two of them had been dating for years at that point and, though you knew them just as long, being best friends with a couple is much different than living with one. They had their own habits, their own unique dynamic, and the introduction of a single woman into the mix might have thrown it off in ways that irreversibly damaged your friendship.

For all the worries that people planted into your brain, the reality of the situation was drastically different. From the night you moved your last box into their spare bedroom you felt like you were home. They were doing you a major favor, letting you move in after a terrible breakup with your ex, but they never made you feel like it. Instead they welcomed you with open arms, immediately jumping to do everything in their power to make sure you felt comfortable.

During those first few weeks you made it a point to shrink yourself, not wanting to take up too much space or get in their way. They quickly reassured you that it wasn’t necessary. If they didn’t want you there you wouldn’t have been there. You could take up as much space as you wanted, get in their way whenever you pleased. They were just happy to have you.

Before you knew it the three of you were doing everything together. Cooking each other breakfast before work, curling up on the couch for movie nights, staying up late to talk about whatever popped into your heads. It reached the point that you hardly had to make your own bed because of the endless nights you found yourself dozing off in theirs.

Woo and San always treated you like a princess, living with them wasn’t a requirement for that, but after you moved in it got so much worse. You had to argue them down to let you do dishes or wash your own clothes. You didn’t even try when it came to carrying in bags after grocery shopping. You knew if you did you’d never hear the end of it from either of them. Even now as you sit at the elegantly decorated table of an upscale restaurant—all of your closest friends gathered for the usual Saturday night dinner—they won’t let you lift a finger.

With Woo on one side of you and San on the other, you only have to extend your hand towards something you want and it's yours. A particularly crispy cut of pork belly catches your eye and before you know it Woo’s swooped it up with his chopsticks. 

“Woo, you didn’t have to do that” you whisper beneath the chatter of conversation at the table.

“Hmm? Did you say something?” he asks, knowing very well that he heard you. He raises it to your lips, patiently waiting for you to take a bite. 

You stare at it for a moment, refusing to eat it solely because of the entertainment that comes with testing Woo’s patience. San drapes his arm over the back of your chair, replenishing the tall crystal glass before you with sweet red wine. 

“Eat it or he’ll get all sulky” San teases, cutting his eyes at his boyfriend whose lips have already begun to form a pout. 

“I do not get sulky” Woo protests, indeed sulking. He’s cute when he does it, knowledge that he weaponizes every chance he gets. 

You and San look at each other, sharing a giggle, before you give in and take a bite. Woo watches as you chew, making sure that you enjoy it. If you don’t he’ll get you another. 

“Happy?” you smile once you’re done and Woo nods, returning his attention back to his own plate. 

Across the table Hongjoong watches you curiously, something you’ve caught him doing all night. No one else seems to notice but for you it can’t be ignored. The two of you lock eyes and he asks you a question without words. You wish he’d use them, spit out whatever the hell is on his mind already, because the tension’s eating you alive. 

“So does anyone know what we’re doing for New Year’s Eve or is it party at Seonghwa’s?” Yunho asks, gesturing for Jongho to hand him a dish. 

Seonghwa frowns, his cheeks too packed full of food to speak clearly, “My house? Why my house?” 

“Ooh, yeah, then I can come over and touch all your stuff” Mingi says, attempting to swipe some food from Seonghwa’s plate. 

Seonghwa slaps him on the back of the hand with his chopsticks, “I’ll kill you.” 

“We could all go camping,” Jongho suggests, “I know a really good spot for it.”

The table falls silent with the exception of Yeosang who nods in support of the younger man. “That’s…an idea.”

“We can host this year” San offers, flashing that dimpled smile, “We have the room for it.”

Hongjoong takes a sip of his wine, his icy glare falling upon you and only you. “Are you sure? Don’t you think your apartment’s gotten kinda crowded lately?” 

The comment strikes a chord with Woo, his irritation apparent in how swiftly his demeanor shifts. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” he asks, chewing at his bottom lip. 

“Nothing…it’s nothing” Hongjoong laughs, sitting back in his chair, “Maybe I should keep my comments to myself.”

“Maybe you should…” Woo snaps.

San clears his throat, rising from the table before the situation can escalate, “I have to go make a quick call. Baby, could you come with me?”

Woo doesn’t respond and he isn’t pretending to be hard of hearing this time. He and Hongjoong are having a staring contest. A silent war as violent as if someone had thrown a punch. 

“Wooyoung!” San says with more bass in his voice this time. It’s enough to snap Woo out of it but he still lingers a moment before getting up himself. 

Taking you by the hand, Woo stares down at you, searching your face for any sign that Hongjoong’s words hurt your feelings. “You’ll be okay?” 

You nod, presenting him with a smile that you hope soothes him a bit. “I’m okay. Just go.” 

San pets your hair, planting a kiss on your forehead, “Be back in a second.” 

You watch as San walks Woo outside like a mother about to lay into her child for misbehaving. As calm as you’ve remained all night, you can’t hide your own irritation at the way Hongjoong’s been acting. It isn’t Woo’s fault that he decided to say something so rude. Whatever problem he has with you is with you. Woo and San shouldn’t be a part of it.

Turning back to the table you find that all conversation of a New Year’s Eve celebration has ended. Everyone’s dead silent, unsure of what to say, if there’s anything to say at all. 

“If you have something to say to me, why not just say it?” you ask, “Or are we just intent on acting like children tonight?”

“This meal is delicious, isn’t it? Really. I know we come here all the time but there’s something about it tonight” Yunho interrupts in an attempt to keep the peace. 

Seonghwa shakes his head at him, his own history as the peacemaker teaching him that it’s not worth it. When Hongjoong’s in a mood he’s in a mood and there’s nothing to be said about it. 

Hongjoong shrugs, poking around at his plate, “I don’t have anything to say really. I’m just curious—I think we all are—about what’s going on here.”

Your eyebrows furrow in genuine confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Hongjoong looks to Woo’s seat then to San’s and right back at you, the girl at the center of it all. “I know we’re all close but the way you three have been acting lately goes a little beyond close. You can’t blame us for thinking…”

“Thinking what?” You look around the table, hoping that one of your friends will jump in and tell Hongjoong how silly he’s being. Instead they avert eye contact. They treat you like you’re a stranger and, in the world of the secret whisperings among them, that’s exactly what you are. It takes a moment for Hongjoong’s words to make sense. He said something without saying it and it’s clear he’s not the only person with that on the tip of their tongue.

The moment it hits you, your palms begin to sweat, the air around you growing hotter. You try your best to act clueless, pretending to have no idea where they’d get these ideas from. It’s not because you have anything to hide. Nothing has happened between the three of you and nothing will. But sometimes you’ve felt it—a tingle when Woo’s holding your hand or those butterflies when you’re cuddled up with San. It’s a purely platonic act on their part, there’s nothing more to it, but the feelings are there whether you like it or not and the idea that anyone else can see it is frightening. 

“You can’t be serious. You don’t think…they’re my best friends, like we all are. There’s nothing…they don’t even like girls” you stutter, a shaky hand reaching for the neck of your wine glass. 

Yeosang’s eyes widen at your declaration and he has to reach for a glass of water to keep from choking on his food. 

Mingi quirks his head at you, shooting a quick glance at Hongjoong. “Who told you that?” 

“Told me what?”

Jongho laughs to himself, tickled by this exchange. “That they don’t like girls.”

“But they don’t. They’re gay.” 

“Oh, honey” Hongjoong sighs, letting up on you for the first time tonight, “We thought you were just playing it up. You really are clueless.” 

You open your mouth to say something more, you aren’t even sure what that is, but the feeling of San’s hand on your shoulder makes you swallow your words. 

“What are we talking about?” he asks, taking his seat at your side. He looks to you only, picking up on your nervousness in an instant. His face turns serious and you place a gentle hand on his knee, softening him if only a bit. 

“Everything okay?” you ask, swiftly changing the subject. 

San leans in closer to you, pinning you down to your seat without even touching you. “I don’t know, is it?” 

Woo swats him away from you, having already gotten his fill of his boyfriend’s lecturing outside. He doesn’t need him doing it to you too. “San, please. You told me I had to play nice. That goes for both of us, doesn’t it?”

San backs off, as much as he hates to do it. He knows something is up but, at the risk of being a hypocrite, he lets it go. The conversation quickly switches back to discussions about parties—who else they’ll invite and who’ll do all the cooking—yet you can’t bring yourself to care about any of it. In your mind there’s only a loop of Hongjoong’s comment. 

“Oh, honey. We thought you were just playing it up. You really are clueless.”

“You’ve had too much to drink. I’m driving you home” Jongho says, stealing Mingi’s car keys. 

“I’m fine. Trust me.” Mingi makes a half-hearted attempt at stealing them back but he’s in no shape to do it. He’s swaying back and forth, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink courtesy of those last three shots of soju. 

Gathered outside of the restaurant, your group lingers by the door, saying your goodbyes and trying to reel in the drunkest among you. It’s a clear night, the type that's perfect for counting stars, but you’re too busy freezing to revel in the magic of it. Earlier you left your jacket in the car, not thinking much of it until you stumbled out of the restaurant into an actual freezer.

San slips out of his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and giving your arms a quick rub to warm them up. “Look after this for me while I go grab the car.”

As San ventures off to find the car, Woo steps in front of you, coming in close to block the wind. 

“Goodnight you two” Hongjoong sings, winking at you over Woo’s shoulder. 

You groan and Woo lets out a skeptical “Goodnight” waving to the others until there’s only the two of you left. When his gaze drifts back to you, you try not to make eye contact but you can’t resist it. His eyes shimmer so gorgeously in the moonlight that it’s impossible not to be taken by them.

Rubbing his hands together, he presses them to your cheeks, squishing them together enough that you look like a little fish. Definitely the cutest fish he’s ever seen. It was his intention to warm you up but he has no clue how hot you burn for him, as hard as you try to fight it. 

“I don’t know if I told you this but you look beautiful tonight” he says, taking you in from head to toe, “That dress especially. It's lovely”

The dress in question, a black lace up mini dress, is indeed lovely. You’d ordered it on a whim during a late night shopping session and have been dying to wear it for weeks. When San suggested that you all match for dinner tonight, black on black all the way, you figured there was no time like the present. It’s more revealing than you’re used to and some part of you questioned if you should wear it or not but Woo’s complement did all that was needed to melt your doubts away. 

“You do too” you blush, straightening out his tie, “You look fancy.”

Woo tries to play it off but it’s always much too obvious when he’s flattered. “I try. You’ll always be the prettiest one in the room but I have to try to give you some competition, don’t I?” 

“Are you attempting to flatter me, Wooyoung?”

Woo moves closer to you, his breath tickling your face as he speaks, “I don’t know. Am I?” 

It’s back. That tingle you feel whenever Woo does something like this. You feel it in the tips of your fingers and your toes. Soon it’ll spread everywhere else, overtaking you, and there’s not a single thing you can do about it. The longer he stares at you the worse it’ll be. He’s sealing your fate, damning you to a night spent trying to chase these feelings away. 

“Are you gonna get in or do you two plan to walk home?” San shouts, honking the horn. 

You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve been saved. Just barely. 

“Does your boyfriend know you’re picking up men from random street corners?” Woo jokes, turning to greet San. 

San leans over, pushing the passenger’s side door open, “I won’t tell him if you don’t.” 

Woo laughs, doubling back to grab you, “You ride in the front tonight, okay, beautiful?”

It’s a question that isn’t a question. You always ride shotgun—they insist upon it—so you hop into the car before Woo’s tempted to scoop you up and set you in there himself. He will do it.

Tossing himself into the back, Woo slams the door closed, spreading out across the seat as the car hums down the city street. It’s a quiet, peaceful ride and it only occurs to you after a few minutes that it’s strangely quiet. There’s always a debrief after dinner. Woo never misses out on the chance to gossip with you and San lives for it even though he’s fond of pretending he doesn’t but tonight’s different. Something’s off.

You switch on the radio, hoping that the introduction of a little music will keep your mind from wandering, but San flicks it off the moment that you do. 

“When we came back to the table, what were you talking about?” he asks, catching you off guard. San’s not the type to let things go, you’ve always known that, but you thought maybe this time you'd luck out. You thought wrong. 

Woo sits up, combing his dark hair back from his face, “San, don’t start.”

“I’m not starting” he swears, “I’m just curious. Don’t tell me you aren’t.”

“Well…” Woo muses, cutting his eyes over at you, “It would be nice to know. I mean, we don’t keep secrets from each other, right?”

You stare out of the window, unable to face either of them. Woo’s right, you don’t keep secrets. Maybe a long time ago it would’ve been forgivable to keep some things to yourself but now? The three of you have gotten so close that it seems almost blasphemous to lie to them. 

“The guys think that there’s something going on between the three of us…” you spill out and you’d swear you sucked all of the air from the car. 

“Oh…”

“Oh…” 

That’s all you’re left with. Now you have to look at them. You have to see their faces and know that you haven’t upset them. “I told them that there wasn’t though! The only thing between us is friendship. That’s it.” 

“Is that what you told them or is that how you feel?” Woo asks and San does nothing to stop him. 

You let out a nervous laugh, convinced that he’s messing with you. “Woo, I’m being serious.”

San takes a deep breath, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as you approach a red light. “So are we.”

“So…” Woo says, his words more deliberate this time, “Is that what you told them or is that how you feel?”

There’s so much weight to that question—almost too much for you to handle. After your breakup you were a total wreck. It felt like someone had torn your heart out and ripped it to pieces. How couldn’t it belong to them when they were the ones who put it back together? 

“What if what I feel is wrong?” you ask, the rush of emotion forcing your voice to crack. 

San holds his hand out to you and you feel a sense of calm wash over you as you take it. He interlocks his fingers with yours, planting slow sweet kisses along the back of your hand. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you feel, sweetheart.”

Woo caresses your cheek, his chin propped up on the back of your chair as he studies you from the backseat. “We feel it too” he sighs, taken by your beauty, “You’re an easy girl to fall for.”

“Woo” you giggle, your gaze falling to your lap where your free hand’s fidgeting with the lace trim of your dress. 

“Stop it, baby, you’re embarrassing her” San says, coming to your rescue as usual.

“Embarrassing her how? She knows how perfect she is” Woo coos, pinching your cheek, “I tell her everyday.” Settling back into his seat, he digs his phone out of his pocket, flicking it on to scroll through his notifications. 

San winks at you, raising your hand to his lips to give it one last kiss. He goes back to driving so casually that you’re left wondering if everything that just happened was all in your head. It’s the strangest thing, how they can be so laid back about a confession that’s turned your world upside down—changed everything you knew in an instant. Maybe it’s because they always knew.

When Woo and San first met they knew the two of them belonged together. Their bond was something they never had to question, it simply was the way things were supposed to be. And when you entered the picture it was no different. You moving in only cemented it. You belonged there with them—in their home, in their arms. They’d love you, protect you, do everything in their power to put a smile on that beautiful face.

Just like the one you have now. The one Woo keeps catching in the rearview mirror and San keeps seeing out of the corner of his eye. Woo wasn’t lying. You are a very easy girl to fall for. They’re doing it right now. 

To anyone who knows you, visiting your apartment makes for a fun game. Your arrival here led to a little redecorating on Woo and San’s part. They insisted on moving some things around to make room for what you loved. If you saw a lamp you wanted, if there was a painting you had your eye on, anything at all and it was yours.

So whenever one of the guys is over and a new piece is spotted they like to bet who it belongs to. An easy task at first, it’s grown much more difficult over time. “It’s like you’re becoming the same person” Yeosang will say in a spooky voice, experiencing what might be actual fear of who’s becoming a clone of who. He loves you all but multiples of any of you is a recipe for disaster.

Your friends’ teasing aside, you love the place you call home. This cozy two bedroom is a seamless fusion of the three of you. It’s your safe place. Where you all run back to for comfort after a long day out in the world. All night it’s sat undisturbed, awaiting your return, and your grand entrance doesn’t disappoint.

The apartment door pushes open, flooding the dimly lit apartment with a choppy but spirited rendition of one of Woo’s favorite songs. He’s been playing it nonstop for the past two weeks and during the last half of the ride home he stole the aux cord to force you both to listen. Blame the alcohol or call it brainwashing but you and San were feeling it tonight. So much that you sang and danced your way from the parking garage, probably waking up the whole neighborhood. 

Singing a lyric even you’re shocked you remember, you do a little shuffle, kicking your heels off at the door. San does a shimmy behind you, dropping his next to yours. Woo grabs you by the arm, pulling you into his, and you bring San right along with you. You’ve had enough of these late night dance sessions—more than any of you will admit—for your bodies to be totally in sync as you dance around the apartment.

Taking you by the hand, San twirls you in a circle and that last sip of wine kicks in immediately, the room still spinning even after you’ve stopped. Luckily Woo’s quick on his feet, catching you from behind. 

“Clumsy much?” he cackles, arms looped around your waist. 

You spin around, scrunching your face up at him, “Do you think you’re funny? Cause you’re not.”

You feel San’s arms close around you from the other side. His muscles make every hug a bear hug and you’ve never minded one bit.

“You’re prettier when you aren’t being a brat” he says, fingertips tracing the immaculate outline of Woo’s cheek. 

Woo nuzzles into his touch like a cat being scratched at just the right spot. “So you think I’m pretty?”

“And a brat” San makes a point of saying, “But pretty? Definitely.”

Woo and San flirting is nothing new to you, you’ve seen it enough that it doesn’t even phase you, but this is the first time you’ve ever been in the middle of it. Physically wedged between them, feeling their temperatures rise as San cups Woo’s face and leans in for a kiss.

Good manners dictate that you shouldn’t stare but you aren’t sure what else you can be expected to do. Their lips look so fluffy as they meet. They kiss each other with equal parts desire and restraint. Their longing for each other radiates off of them and soaks into you. But that longing’s not only theirs, it’s yours too. Something new has been awakened inside of you and it has your heart racing. 

San draws in a breath as their lips part, a light chuckle leaving him at the star crossed look in your eyes. “You know…” he hums, his hand finding your throat, “We’ve always wondered what your lips taste like.” His thumb brushes your chin, tilting your head so that your lips graze his. “Can I taste them?”

A floaty “Yes” leaves your lips and time seems to slow to a crawl as he lulls you into a kiss that has the room spinning again. His lips are as soft as they appeared and he pours into you that same desire, that same longing. Restraint? Now that’s a different story. The deeper he kisses you—his tongue eagerly exploring your mouth—the harder it is to hold back. 

“You can’t have her all to yourself” Woo says, tugging San’s hair to break the kiss, “I want some of her too.” 

You hardly have a chance to recover from San’s kiss when Woo’s pressing his lips to yours, making you feel light headed all over again. He floods you with more of the same feelings but there’s something different about the way that he kisses you. He abandons any hope of containing his desires, his lips feverishly moving against yours. He hums at the taste of you, like you’re his new favorite dessert and all he wants is more. 

“It’s getting late, Woo. I think we should go to bed. Don’t you?” San asks, running his fingers along your hips. 

Woo nods, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Mmhmm.”

They slip away from you, heading for the hallway that leads to their bedroom. How cruel it is of them to just leave you standing here with your head all foggy and your cutest panties soaked through. You lean against the back of the couch, missing the contact but grateful for the chance to catch your breath. With all the air you were losing you might’ve fainted otherwise. 

“Are you coming?” San calls out, lingering just outside of his bedroom. The light from the bedroom bathes the dark hallway in a warm glow that reflects off of San’s chest as he pops the buttons of his shirt open one by one. 

You cross your legs, hoping to quiet the noise between them that’s only worsened at the sight of his bare skin. “Uh, yeah, I just, uh…have to get out of this dress first.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart” he smiles, amused by your shyness, “We can help with that.”

Your body moves as if it has a mind of its own. Each step towards him is so delicate you’d be forgiven for thinking that you floated your way to him. Placing a hand on the small of your back, San ushers you into the bedroom where an already shirtless Woo stands by the dresser fussing with his watch. 

“Somebody need help with something?’ Woo asks, shaking his wrist free of the designer watch. 

San brushes past you, tossing his own shirt onto the bed. “Her dress. She needs help getting out of it.” 

Setting his watch down on the dresser, Woo crosses the room, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. He locks eyes with you, telling you to come to him without having to say it. There’s a pull to them. Like gravity holds you to the ground, your heart holds you to them. You’ve always felt it but tonight it’s infinitely stronger. They could call you to the moon and you’d find a way there.

“It really is a beautiful dress” Woo says, his hands tracing your figure the moment you’re within reach. He spreads his legs, bringing you in close enough to feel the tip of his nose graze the softness of your belly through the fabric. “It suits your figure well, not that a body like yours needs much help.” His palms come to rest at your hips, indulgent fingers massaging them as his thumbs ease the fabric higher and higher above your thighs. 

“You’re always so sweet to me” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “If you’re not careful one day it’ll all go to my head.” 

Pausing to admire the plushness of your thighs, he trails kisses along them, eyes flicking up to meet your gaze. “Good” he grins, pushing your dress above your waist. His hands slip back down to your thighs, another pair of hands gripping your dress from behind. 

“You should let things get to your head more” San whispers into your ear, the defined muscles of his chest flush against your back. There’s something else pressed against you too. Something thick and hard poking into the tender flesh of your now exposed ass. Mindlessly you press back into it, breath hitching as you feel his need grow even stronger from your teasing.

“I think you let someone make you forget how special you are” Woo says, placing a kiss achingly close to your core, “But that’s okay. We’ll remind you.” 

Woo’s tongue darts out, gliding up and down to taste you through panties already dripping with your essence. Easing your thighs apart, he tucks your panties to the side, a solitary finger petting your slippery entrance. A pulse of warmth ripples through you, pooling right between your legs where the tip of Woo’s tongue has found your clit, twirling around the bundle of nerves so artfully that any remaining ability you had to think straight simply falls away. Looping an arm around your right thigh, he hoists it up, throwing it over his shoulder. 

Instinctively you look down but gain only the briefest glimpse of his head diving between your thighs before your dress is flying over your head, slinking to the ground beside you. You didn’t wear a bra tonight, the dress wouldn’t allow you to, and San’s grateful for it. That’s one less thing between him and those breasts that bounce against your chest so deliciously. He captures them in his hands, feeling the weight of them against his palms. 

“So soft” San mumbles, suckling at the fragrant skin of your neck.

Shaping your breasts beneath his touch, he takes two fingers and lightly strokes your nipples. You let out the sweetest, softest moan and he pinches your nipples, beyond pleased at how that moan falls apart on the tip of your tongue. For every moan you let out he pinches them harder, pushing you further, just to see how much you can take or how much you want to take.

Your head falls back and San kisses your neck with even more hunger than before, leaving a trail of marks behind that will no doubt be hickeys by morning. Tears decorate your lashes like constellations, the overstimulation wrecking every part of you. 

“You’re clenching like crazy, sweetie. You want something to fill you up?” Woo asks, his finger still stroking your slit, torturing you with the possibilities. 

You whine, hips attempting to sink down onto his finger, but San grips you tighter, forcing you to straighten up. 

“You have such a pretty voice” San taunts, dipping a hand between your legs to play with your clit, “Use it. You want us to fill you up or not, baby?” 

Your breaths quicken, body trembling as you grab onto San’s arm, nails raking his skin. “Ah, I want it, Sannie. I want you to fill me up, pretty please.”

“Oh, pretty please? How can we say no to that?” Woo grins, gathering your arousal with his fingertips. He eases further onto the bed, lying back to watch how his fingers glisten in the light. “Come here, sweetie.” 

San slows his movements, kissing you tenderly as he lets you down gradually before placing you on the bed. You get on your hands and knees without being told, crawling up the bed until San grabs your hips, stopping you when your face hovers just above Woo’s waist.

Tangling his fingers in your hair, Woo tilts your head up, raising his soaked fingers to your honeyed lips. San’s hands collide with your plump ass, the sting making you cry out and forcing your lips to part just enough for Woo’s fingers to slip in between them. You’ve never tasted yourself before, it’s something you never dared to try, but as Woo coats your tongue in your own juices you find yourself enjoying it so much that you’re sucking on his fingers, praying for more.  

Behind you San’s rubbing your ass to soothe the sting, his eyes glued to your dripping entrance. It’s been so long since he’s been with a woman that he’d forgotten how pretty a pussy could be and yours is without a doubt as pretty as they come. Your folds are so soft, your hole so needy and wet, that his cock’s straining against his zipper, aching to have you. 

“Does your tongue feel this good when you do everything?” Woo asks when his fingers pop free from your mouth. 

Placing your hand on the bulge that awaits inches from your face, you let your palm ride the outline of his cock. “Let me show you.”

Woo’s caught off guard by your boldness but it only makes him want you more. Unzipping his pants, there’s little you have to do to free him from his underwear. His cock’s eager to meet you, throbbing and leaking as you stroke his length. You circle the pink tip with your tongue, dragging it across the top to collect his arousal. Your fingers wrap around the base, keeping him in place as your lips wrap around his cock, stretching to take his thickness.

You’ve seen their cocks before, by accident of course, and somewhere in the filthiest corners of your mind you always wondered what it’d be like to have one in your mouth. Now you know and you love everything about it. How comfortably he fits in your mouth. How you can feel all the finer details of his cock with your tongue. And those noises he makes when the tip hits the back of your throat—moaning like he’s never felt anything better—are like music to your ears.

“San!” you want to cry out when he grabs you by your hips, thrusting his cock into you. Of course you can’t talk. With Woo’s cock shoved this far down your throat you can only mumble, drooling down his length while San’s pulsing against your walls. For a quick second, quicker than you can blink, your vision goes blurry. When San asked if you wanted to be full he meant full. Bottomed out, stretched to the brink, feeling all of him with nothing left to desire. 

San leans forward, kissing along your spine. “You took me so well, baby. You’re being such a good girl for us tonight.” 

He snaps his hips into you again and you arch your back, causing him to slam right into your sweet spot. You tremble and he knows he’s found it, the one spot that’s gonna make you unravel for him. You’re in no position to see him—in fact, you’re in the perfect position not to—but it makes him happy. He’s determined to make you feel good, every stroke of his cock dedicated to making you lose it.

But he can’t begin to ignore how good this feels for him too. Your walls are velvety and smooth, clinging to him as he glides in and out of your tight little hole. Each time he thrusts into you the force travels through your perfect figure, bouncing you right back onto him. San knows he’s bottomed out but somehow you seem to be sucking him in deeper, his abs tightening at the tension already building in his abdomen. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Look at you” San groans, pulling back enough to see the juices trickling out of you. 

Gripping the blanket with one hand, you try to use all of your strength to prop yourself up but you can’t. San’s thrusts are too powerful, the pleasure’s too strong, and your body’s going limp. Cupping your fluffy cheeks, Woo pets them, pressing his cock even further down your throat. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll take care of you. Just let go.” 

Releasing your hold on the blanket, you do your best to let go of it—of everything. Your muscles begin to relax, the full weight of your body falling into their hands. Between them they develop a rhythm, pleasing your holes in perfect synchronicity. You’re dripping from both ends, clenching and sucking, moaning and whining. You’re a perfect little mess. Everything they could ever ask for.

There’s something ethereal about being between the two of them. Your body feels light, like you're floating somewhere else but you’re right here with them. Not being fucked, being made love to. Being treated like every part of your body is this sacred thing that they’re so grateful to have.

“I wish you could see yourself right now” San sighs, running his hands down your sides, “Our pretty girl.” 

Their pretty girl. It does something to you to be called that. It breaks you in a million ways. All the best ones. A swell of energy builds in your body, like a tree growing and spreading its branches out to the furthest reaches of your form. 

“Mmmm…” you whine, heavy lids rising to flash those gorgeous glassy eyes up at Woo. 

San feels your hips stutter and catches you, keeping you steady. “You ready to cum, baby?”

You nod, puffy lips still too tightly wound around Woo’s cock to make out words. Could you if he even let you?

“That’s it. Cum all over Sannie’s cock” Woo coos, his thumb brushing your quivering bottom lip, “Just like that. Good girl.”

Your mind goes blank, void of the faintest thought of anything. You’re caught in the ecstasy of your high, walls fluttering as you squirt down San’s cock. He quickens his thrusts, prolonging your orgasm long enough that when his finally hits you’re still pulling him in, milking him of every drop of cum he has.

Riding out his high, San pushes you forward, forcing your lips to meet the base of Woo’s cock. Woo raises his hips, sloppy movements bringing him closer and closer to the edge until he’s spilling down your throat, filling your cheeks with warm white liquid. He slips out of your mouth and you collapse onto his stomach, gasping for air as you try to recall which planet you’re on. 

Completely spent, a dizzy San collapses on the bed beside his boyfriend, intentionally leaving enough room for you. “Are you sleeping there tonight?” he teases.

“No” you pout, motioning to hit him on the arm but making no impact at all. It’s like trying to punch someone in a dream. Nothing. 

San catches your arm, pulling you into the space between them. “Are you usually violent after your orgasms?”

Woo tucks an arm around you, lovingly kissing your shoulder. “Not that we’re complaining. I’ve been known to like a little slap sometimes.”

“I’ll remember that next time” you promise, responding to his kiss with one of your own to the bridge of his nose. Turning to San, you kiss him on the cheek, giggling at how his face lights up at the sweet gesture. 

Settling into each other’s embrace, the chatter quiets but not awkwardly so. There’s a sense of peace in each other’s company. A comfort in this newfound feeling of completion. All this time you’ve been together but never quite in the way that any of you wanted. There was always a barrier, something unspoken keeping you from letting your true feelings show, and now that’s melted away leaving only the three of you together. 

“Baby” San whispers after some time has passed. Your head’s resting on his chest and he rubs your cheek, signaling to you that he needs to get up. “I’m gonna go run us a shower, okay?”

He sits up, ready to hop out of bed, when you throw your arms around him and drag him back down. “No. You whine” throwing on your best baby face, “You stay.” 

“Oh my god. I have two of you now” he laughs, too soft for you to resist your pouting. 

“Oh? You have me now?” 

Woo props himself up on his elbow, head resting in the palm of his hand. “Don’t we?” he asks, drawing on your naked body with his fingertips. The question is playful but there’s a seriousness to it that can’t be ignored. 

You let the question sink in, realizing for the first time that you don’t have to pretend anymore. “Yes, you have me” you sigh, batting your pretty doe eyes. 

“It’s settled then. You’re all ours” San smiles, cuddling back up beside you.

Woo lays back down, nestling his face against your neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Your bodies fit back together like the pieces of a puzzle. Everything about this feels right. Every small moment so special. There’s romance in each other’s breaths. Intimacy in even the faintest brush of your skin against theirs as you shift in the bed. You could stay here forever. And you intend to.

[archiveofvirtue]

CASUAL , TWO ⸻ dean winchester

content / dean winchester x fem!reader, unrequited love, fwb, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, praise, explicit language, angst, arguing, dean being a scared lil bitch, nsfw, 18+

summary / when dean calls you up one night for the usual comfort, neither of you expected it to end that way. torn between desire and the pain of unrequited love, you finally confront the truth: you deserve more than being his escape

Dean knew he was asking for a lot the moment he hit the call button. He leaned against the creaky wall of the random, rundown motel room he had booked. His mind was racing, though he wasn't really sure why. He just needed a distraction, something to pull him out of the mess inside his head, and you—well, you always knew how to make him feel better.

He'd heard that you were on a case nearby, and now, here he was. Again. Calling you like it was nothing, like your last time together didn't feel... different.

While on the other end you had stared at your phone for what felt like an eternity, your thumb hovering over Dean's name. You knew what he wanted. You always did. It wasn't a mystery why Dean was calling you up out of the blue at 1am.

Your first instinct was to ignore him. You didn't need this—didn't need to be his go-to when he needed an escape. Lately, every time you thought of him, it felt like your heart cracked a little more. And despite his emotional distance you couldn’t help yourself.

"Dean?" You voice crackled through the phone as you picked up the call.

"Hey, uh... You still in the area?" he asked, trying to sound casual. You sighed on the other end, and Dean could already feel your hesitation. "Yeah, I'm around.”

"Good. There's this motel a few miles off the highway. Thought maybe you could, I don't know, come ‘round?"

"I don't think I can," you said, your voice softer now, but firm. "I'm busy."

Dean frowned, pushing off the wall and pacing. "C'mon, y/n. Just a couple of hours. It's not like we haven't done this before."

A sarcastic chuckle left your lips, sounding almost bitter. "Exactly, Dean. We've done this before. Too many times."

"Yeah, but—" Dean started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to say to that. It wasn't like he could argue with you. You both knew what the deal was. Casual, no strings, no messy emotions.

But still, he found himself pushing. "I just need you, okay? For tonight. Just to get out of my head." Dean could feel his heart thudding against his ribcage.

It wasn't supposed to be that complicated.

You wanted to say no. You should say no. You knew that you’d leave feeling emptier than when you came, like you always did, yet the thought of not seeing him at all—that was even worse. You hated it. Hated yourself for it. It was ridiculous, really, how you kept giving in, knowing how things would end.

"Fine," you finally said. "I'll be there."

When you arrived at the motel, the familiar sight of Dean's black Impala parked outside brought a lump to your throat. You’d convinced yourself on the way over that you’d keep your guard up this time, that you wouldn't let him get under your skin. But the moment you walked into that damn room and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, all your defenses began to crumble.

He stood up, giving you that same tired smile you’d seen a hundred times before. "Hey."

"Hi," you echoed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying not to let your frustration show. You weren’t here to fight—not yet, anyway. But the weight of everything unsaid was suffocating you.

But Dean wasted no time, stepping toward you and pulling you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both urgent and needy. You wanted to push him away, tell him this wasn't what you wanted anymore, but damn it, your body betrayed you. You kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in him for a moment, because it was easier than dealing with the truth.

You two fell back onto the bed, lost in each other like you had countless times before. For a little while, you could forget. You could pretend that this wasn't just about the physical, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between the two of you. But deep down, you knew better.

Dean’s body pressed more firmly against yours, his chest solid and warm as it met yours, adjusting himself just enough so that he was hovering above you. His tongue pushed gently against your lower lip before slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You moaned quietly, hands finding his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck as his hands traveled down your sides, leaving goosebumps all over your body.

You could feel his growing erection pressing against you, slowly grinding himself back and forth on your core. The urgency in his movements made you feel wanted, desired, but at the same time you felt empty, just wanting it to be over.

Dean tugged at the waistband of your jeans, pulling them off within a matter of seconds before he freed himself from his own clothes, leaving you both bare.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He mumbled, the words leaving his lips almost unconsciously. Of course he thought that you were stunning, but maybe it meant a lot more to you than he realized.

You inhaled sharply as you felt Dean’s finger teasing your entrance, smirking as he felt how wet you’ve gotten over the course of a few seconds. You surely couldn’t deny the fact that he turned you on.

“Soaked already?” He chuckled, making you nod hastily.

Grabbing your hips he secured you onto the mattress, pressing you down gently before he pushed his aching tip past your entrance, a loud moan escaping your lips. Your walls clenched around him almost immediately, making him groan.

“Fuck sweetheart, that tight cunt ‘s sucking me right in.”

You let out another moan, eyes fluttering shut as you felt his cock filling you up to the brim, a perfect fit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he almost pulled himself out completely before slamming right back in, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Hngh..shit—“ you hissed, your nails digging into his back, skin slapping against skin echoing through the motel room.

Dean's hand moved to cup your ass, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer with each thrust, craving every single inch of your body. As he continued to fuck you at a steady pace you felt yourself getting closer, clenching around his thick cock.

Dean was quick to redirect his hand in between your bodys, finding your clit, and circling the sensitive nub to drive you completely over the edge. You could feel your body tensing up, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable level.

“Dean, I’m gonna—“ you whined out before the band in your stomach snapped, cumming hard all over his cock.

"That's it, baby.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, not even noticing the little petname that had slipped past his lips.

He gave you a few more hard thrusts before letting out a loud groan himself, feeling his dick twitch as he came deep inside of you, painting your walls white with his cum, and leaving both of you breathless.

Dean fell down beside you in the quiet aftermath, the soft glow from the motel's flickering light casting shadows on the walls, staring up at the ceiling like he always did. It was so routine by now that you could almost predict his every move.

But tonight, something felt different. The silence between you was heavier than usual, and you felt a knot forming in your chest. You waited for him to say something, anything, but when he finally spoke, his words cut through you like a knife.

"You’re so good at this stuff. It’s like you were made for it.”

You froze. Made for it? Your heart sank. The casualness of his words, the thoughtless way he dismissed whatever connection you two had, made you feel sick. You sat up quickly, eyes burning with anger and hurt. "That's all I am to you? A fucking hooker?”

Dean turned to you, clearly confused. "What? That’s not- Why are you suddenly acting like this?"

Your anger was burning up, but so was your pain. It wasn't just this moment; it was all of it. Everything you’d been holding back for so long, everything you’d swallowed down, was bubbling to the surface. "Why wouldn't I act like this, Dean? Last time we met, we literally had dinner with your brother, and you fucked me in the bathroom like some random slut who’s hopping on anyone’s dick. And now you wonder why I'm bitter?"

Dean blinked, caught off guard. "That was just... it wasn’t—You know how it is with us."

"No, Dean," you shot back, voice shaking. "I thought I knew how it was. But apparently, I've been fooling myself this whole time. I hate that I let this drag on so long, and now, I hate myself for it."

Dean sat up, running a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he was afraid of. "I thought we were on the same page here, y/n.”

This was just how things were, right? Casual. No complications.

"I'm not just someone you can call when you're bored or need to get out of your head," you continued, voice breaking. "I deserve more than that, and the fact that I've let this go on for so long—it kills me. Because I hate that I've let myself care about someone who clearly doesn't care about me."

Dean's heart sank at your words. He'd always known you were more than just a quick fix for his demons, but hearing it laid out like that? It stung. And for the first time in a long time, he didn't know how to fix this.

"y/n...I-" Dean began, his voice soft, almost pleading. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I didn't—"

You cut him off, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. "It doesn't matter, Dean. What's done is done. I just... I can't keep doing this. Not like this."

The room fell silent again, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. Dean stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. He wanted to say something, anything to make it right, but the truth was, he didn't know how.

But what he knew was that the thing between you two wasn’t as casual as he pretended it to be, and that scared the shit out of him. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

You stood up, heart pounding in your chest as you began putting on your clothes. You couldn't stay here—not when everything felt so raw, so exposed. Dean watched you, the guilt etched on his face, but he didn't say anything to stop you.

"I need to go," you said quietly, pulling on your jacket and heading for the door. You could feel his eyes on you.

"y/n.." Dean called after you, his voice almost too faint to hear.

You paused at the door, your hand resting on the knob, and for a brief second, you thought about turning back, thought about giving him one more chance. But you didn't. Instead, you opened the door and walked out, leaving Dean alone in that empty motel room.

He sat there, staring at the door long after it had closed, the weight of everything he hadn't said pressing down on him like heavy rain. He had no idea if you’d come back. And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he wanted you to. Because you deserved better than what he had to offer.

coming from first hand experience 😁 anyways..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @angelicjackles @deansbite @figthoughts @deansenvy @chevroletdean @rubyvhs @sugardean @figurantedefilme @cosmicanakin @sammyluvr @nuemanfilms @titsout4nicholas

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TWELVE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @uconnpazzi @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @ch12334 @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch

warnings a lot of angst this time whoops 🤭

kalena speakss 🪽! so there’s like four chapters left guys woah. i’m sorry for this one and the next one because it’s lowkey just angst but you’ll live 😆

July 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You did what?”

“Azz—”

“No you dumbass, you did what?” Nika cuts in, her voice echoing through my phone speaker as she repeats Azzi’s question.

I had just landed from our latest road trip, mindlessly trying to unpack and clean up around the apartment. Maraye was coming over and I wanted to have everything looking good by the time she showed up.

I’ve kept our conversations brief over the last couple days. Every time I hear her voice it just triggers my throat to close up and my mouth to get all dry.

But I can’t avoid her anymore. Whether I tell her about Nyla or not, she’s bound to find out. So I’m left with no other choice to tell her.

“You really want me to say it again?” I ask them, turning down the volume on my phone. Each time one of them yells it feels like my ear drum is seconds away from being ruptured.

“You had sex with Nyla? Why the hell would you do that?” Azzi yells again, confirming the fact that she heard me the first time.

Azzi is filled in on the lore more than anyone. So I know she’s irritated, she almost gave me a concussion when I told her about hooking up with her before the championship. I know if we were in the same room now she might actually render my abilities to play.

“I already told you it was an accident.”

“Oh, you accidentally fell into some pussy? Good luck explaining that to Maraye.” Nika laughs at me. I just know if I could see her face she’d be red from laughter.

“You didn’t tell her yet? Oh my—”

Azzi obvious exasperation is cut off when I hear my front door knock. My heart starts beating rapidly in my chest. I swallow the lump in my throat and reach for my phone.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s at the door so we can talk later.” I breathe, not even waiting for a response before hanging up on the group call.

My feet drag against the floor on the way to the door.

I can’t remember the last time I’ve been nervous for a girl to come over to my place. Even when she was here last week, it felt natural. Like she was supposed to be here anyway.

But now my palms are all sweaty and slipping against the silver doorknob.

I think I might stop breathing the second I see her. Raye’s always been perfect, she could be wearing a garbage bag and I’d still think that’s true. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in person completely barefaced, not even a little blush on her cheeks or mascara on her lashes.

Just her. No enhancers, and looking as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her.

Raye wears that one jacket that every girl in LA seems to own, the Lululemon one. I didn’t get it at first but now I totally get the hype, the navy fabric clings to her arms and waist and everything in between, making her body look otherworldly. The matching shorts, however, are too damn short. I might not be able to control myself.

“So, can I come in?” Her nose scrunches as she asks almost like she’s shy but also teasing me over my gawking.

I don’t even waste any time tugging her arm and pulling her body into mine for me to hold.

I can’t help but grin to myself at how fast she returns the gesture, her arms wrapped around my neck and mine pressed to her lower back. Raye kicks the door shut behind her, humming softly.

It feels light, the hug. Almost like thousands of pounds of weight were lifted off of both of us and now we’re just floating together.

“Someone missed me, huh.”

I let out a breathless laugh, resting my head on top of hers. She smells incredible. “So fuckin’ bad, Raye.”

Raye is pulling back from me slowly, limb by limb detaching from me with a little fight as if they were stuck.

My lip travels between my teeth, looking over her whole outfit once again. Navy looks so good on her, and I start thinking that I might have to buy her more colors of this exact set because of what it’s doing to me.

“This lil set is cute.” I compliment, tugging at the spandex material on her mid thigh.

“Yeah?” Raye asks, looking over her own body. “I was supposed to go to the gym and then you called.”

The statement brings an embarrassing smile to my face. The fact that she dropped what she was doing, changed her plans to come and see me.

I’m embarrassingly whipped over her.

“We can do sum exercise here. No worries.” I smirk. She’s quick to drop a hand from my shoulder to mush my face off to the side.

“Shut up.” Raye giggles, “you wanna get some food?”

I lick my lips as slyly as I can, which really is a lot harder than I thought. There’s something, something that makes my mind run a thousand miles a minute. Her eyes, which I swear I’ve been obsessed with since we first met. Her skin, it’s glowing, looking like glitter that covers her skin. The smell of whatever curl cream she used lingers in my nose.

“Well I needa shower first, and then I wanted to talk.” I explain. My hands trail down to the backs of her thighs, just under the curve of her ass. She lets me, not even fighting me off or telling me that all of this is wrong. It’s the most intimate I’ve ever been with her that hasn’t led to kissing her.

Which makes me want to do it even more.

“About?”

"You." I say gently pushing her back against my front door and Raye raises her eyebrows. "And me." I add on.

Her tongue slightly slips from her lips, poking at the corner in the way it does when she’s concentrating or listening or thinking. She holds the back of my neck with one hand, her acrylics grazing the hair at my nape. I shudder, finger nails subconsciously digging into her skin.

“Okay.”

—

I’m not sure what I thought Paige’s room would look like. Her apartment— large and spacious, floor to ceiling windows, lights that set the mood so well that i’m sure every girl she’s had in here was throwing themselves at her— fits her completely. But her bedroom, is almost bare.

Cream white walls and a bed in the center. Oddly enough, there’s no purple decorating it like I assumed. Her duvet is a tan color, pillows that match, and a white throw blanket that is a nice addition to it.

The mattress nearly sucks me in when I lay back on her bed. Her phone in my hand as I order us some Chinese as per her request.

I can’t help but let my eyes wander. The room is clean. So clean, not a single book or pencil or sock out of place.

A bible sits on her beside table, along with a journal and some pens.

Then the more I look around the more the room becomes Paige. The bible is her, the picture on her full length mirror of her and her siblings, the framed piece of nylon she cut down from the net in April, the affirmations on sticky notes above her dresser. It’s all Paige. Everything that I know makes her the annoyingly smart, beautiful, and sweet blonde that I know her to be.

And she gets to be mine. As soon as I tell her that Julian isn’t my boyfriend anymore, things get to be the way they should be. I get to feel good around her rather than guilty.

Even if I do. If I do feel guilty for enjoying myself around her, I’d live with it. Because it’s Paige, and no matter what she always finds a way to get my mind off of everything.

My ears perk up the second I hear the shower turn off and I swing my feet off the side of the bed, almost in excitement of seeing her face again.

Her phone buzzes avidly on the blanket, just slightly muffled but I still hear it. I reach for it immediately, thinking that It’s our DoorDasher confirming our order. I type in the password she told me, clicking on the message notification.

lmk when you get bored of that LA girl again

i’ll be right here like i always am 😂

When you’re like me, and have been in your fair share of shitty relationships, you sort of become numb to it all. The lying, the hurt, the yelling.

I deal with it through music. Spending hours in the studio or in my room writing. It works. It helps me remember that the Earth will keep spinning.

But for a second, it does feel like the world has stopped. Like the planet, that spins a thousand miles an hour, has come to a complete halt and everything is just crashing around on me.

I have to stop looking, protect what’s left of that goodness in my heart and not keep fucking reading. But my thumb moves anyway. I read this girl’s text to Paige from last Sunday. The day after I stood in her arms and told her I’d make a decision. The night after she told me she’d wait for it.

A texts that reads: “had fun ;)”

That fucking wink. It makes me seethe. I swear it’s meant for me, just to rub it all in my face. My heart thumps so loud, and I feel like I’m underwater just drowning.

Within seconds I’m scrolling through what seems like years of texts messages, years of pictures and intimate texts that make me nauseous.

This has to be what karma feels like. I did it to Julian, right? I kissed and touched on someone else while making a promise to him. And now it’s all getting thrown back at me.

Paige took everything I gave to her, and went and gave it to someone else.

Her bathroom door glides open, a cast of steam coming into the room and she follows. “Are you sure y’on’t want anything more comfy to wear? Y’look sexy, but I can—”

Paige stops when she sees I’m not looking at her but rather that my eyes are trained to her phone.

“Ma, you aight?”

“Let me know when you get bored of that LA girl again, I’ll be right here like I always am. Paige, do you take me for a joke?” I ask her, rereading the text out loud to her before finally looking up.

I can’t let her see my tears, the ones that build and poole at my waterline, but Goddamnit they sting. Everything does. My throat feels small, the lump in my throat huge in contrast. And I want to cry. Like all this, all the confusion and the trust and the happiness she made me feel was all for nothing.

I see all the color drain from her face in an instant. Her shoulders dropping.

Paige only has on a sports bra and some sweatpants, the white towel around her neck picks up all the water that drips from that perfect blonde hair, and I’m so mad at myself for thinking about how irresistible she looks.

It’s entirely too reminiscent of the first time we met, when she was all flushed as sweaty and standing there looking like everything I’ve ever wanted.

Now I look at her and just feel like a boulder is crushing my chest.

“Raye.” She starts, stalking over to me and I stand up, feeling like that’s the best thing I can do to stop her from touching me. “Baby, just listen.”

“Me? Listen? To what. Listen to you lie to me about how you just want me? Because you obviously don’t.” I shake my head at her. “It took you 24 hours, Paige. 24 hours and you were fucking some other girl.”

“I—” She starts, sighing and tossing the towel in her hand on the bed. “I thought you chose him and I got drunk.” She babbles. Each step she takes towards me sets me off just a little more, and I feel suffocated.

“I didn’t! God!”

“What?”

“I didn’t fucking choose him, Paige. We broke up, I ended it. But instead of communicating with me when I called you, you went all silent on me.”

My voice cracks as I feel my composure slipping. It’s unbelievable, the entirety of it all.

“But now it all makes sense. You were with her.” I laugh, except it’s not funny. I think it’s the only thing I can do to stop me from lashing out at her, screaming and crying and fighting her in a way that makes me look like the bad guy.

Paige’s eyes flicker. And I know her. The confident and slightly cocky blonde girl that would double down on anything. She’s stubborn, more than me, so when I see it; the slight hint of guilt in those crystalline blue eyes, I know she’s not going to say anything I want her to.

“Wait a minute, you don’t get to be mad at me over this.” She shoots. The words hit my heart violently, sharp, like a knife. “You were with him. The whole time, who I was with is not something you get to be mad over.”

“You knew, Paige! You knew I was with Julian. And I fuckin’ told you over and over that this had to stop. Don’t turn it back on me when it’s what you wanted.” I defend, my voice cracking under her gaze.

She’s nearly unrecognizable. This isn’t Paige. Or at least the Paige I knew and fell for, because I thought she would never do something like this to me, yet she did.

Paige takes a step back from me, running her fingers through her wet hair.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t be mad about. I trusted you.”

“Julian trusted you.” She says, bitter and harsh. “But that didn’t stop you from kissin’ me and tellin’ me you have feelings for me, right?”

“That’s not the same—”

“It’s exactly the same, Maraye!” She yells. “But I’m tellin’ you the truth. I’m tellin’ you straight what happened, and you ain’t even do that for him.”

Maybe it’s the way she says it all like it certain. Like she knows me so well that she assumed I didn’t tell Julian anything. Or even the way her voice is so animalistic, full of emotion that I’ve never heard from her. But I lose it. All that is left of my composure, if you could even call it that, goes down the drain and I’m breaking down.

The tears in my eyes finally slip, making my lashes stick together. They’re hot, burning my cheeks.

I hate that I’m letting her see me cry, hate that she gets to see me this emotional. She doesn’t deserve to see me cry. Paige doesn’t deserve to know that she hurt me this bad.

At the same time, I want her to see it. To understand how fucking stupid her actions were. That what she did hurt me to my core, because I don’t even cry in front of people like this. But I am for her. I’m crying, and the tears don’t fucking stop falling.

“You think you know me! You don’t know me, Paige.” My eyes narrow and my arms fall to my sides. “I told him everything. I told him that you made me feel different, so much better than he ever could. A-and I told him I was sorry. I fuckin’ apologized for having feelings for you. I owned up to it, and I messed up so many times but you, God, Paige, you made it all worth it.”

When I look at Paige she isn’t even looking at my eyes. She always does, but now she looks at the ceiling, frustratingly running her hand over her chin.

“And you didn’t. You didn’t tell me the truth, I found out myself like an idiot.” I scream until my voice is raw. Her phone in my hand feels like hot coal, burning my hand and then burning a hole in her sheets when I throw it there. “Fell for you like an idiot.” I murmur under my breath.

“Hol’ on, Angel. C’mon.” Paige says. It’s soft, the quietest her voice has been all night. Of course Paige hears me. She steps to me again, reaching for my hand that I pull back with haste.

“You don’t get to call me that.”

“I made a mistake. A huge fucking mistake, but that doesn’t mean we can’t work this shit out.” Paige reaches for me again, I throw my hands away from her, hitting my hand on her bedside table and breaking a nail in the process.

“Fuck.” I groan, shaking my hand off and turning away from her. “Move!” I yell, stepping to the side so she isn’t that damn close to me.

“Raye—”

“I don’t trust you.” I breathe, shrugging my shoulders at her and trying to wipe the tears that stain my cheeks. “It’s not about working this out. You broke my trust and y’can’t even apologize for it.”

“Jus’ listen. Please.” I hear her voice crack, that guilt I could pick up on when she first came out of the bathroom so evident in the way she looks at me.

Paige’s blue eyes are rimmed with red, I nearly scoff. She doesn’t get to cry. She did this, she went to her, confided in her instead of talking to me. I shake my head in an attempt to wrap my head around all of this.

“I’m sorry.” And I thought that hearing it would make it all better but my chest just burns. I’m honestly running out of patience because this isn’t working. I’ve made up my mind, she’s done something so fucking unforgivable and it’s sad. I never would’ve imagined it from Paige.

“Really, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I can’t do this.” I blurt like word vomit. “I just can’t. Ion even wanna look at you right now, Paige.”

“Maraye.”

“I’m gonna go.” I say under my breath, nodding as if that’s what I’ve decided to do. I reach for my phone on the dresser, trying to ignore the pulsing feeling in my broken fingernail. The room suddenly feels so small, suffocating. Filled with hot air and lingering insults.

Paige looks at me incredulously. Almost shocked that I was willing to leave it at this, that I didn’t want to hear her out. ��I-that’s it? We’re not gonna talk? You just gonna leave like none of this shit matters.” Her voice is low, throat almost scratched raw.

“I don’t know what to say to you that’s not gonna make this worse.” I explain.

“I can fix it, Raye. Please.”

It’s so hard. Hard to not fall victim to everything that she is and give her what she wants.

Believe it or not, I want to, I want to hear her out and have her tell me just how much she regrets it all.

But every time I look at her, I keep thinking about that girl. That girl who had Paige first, seemingly long before I did. Who had her hands in Paige’s hair the same way I do when she’s laying on my couch with her head on my shoulder.

That girl who got to feel Paige’s lips. Soft and plump with that enticing color of pink. The same lips that told me she felt something for me, told me that she’d give me time. The lips that made me feel like I was the only person in the world to her.

Don’t even start on the image of the two of them— a girl who’s probably prettier than I am or funnier or impossibly more into her than I am, and my perfect blue eyed Paige— being together in a way that we haven’t. Kissing and touching and moaning together.

Being together.

It’s nauseating.

So I just turn around, dragging myself to her hallway and to her front door. I can hear her soft footsteps following after me fast. I sniffle as I slip my shoes on, hoping that if I leave just fast enough I can hang on to the words she said to me before she slept with someone else. The words that let me know that it was just us.

Maybe those are enough to get me to forgive her, eventually.

But right now. I can’t.

So I leave. The door slamming shut behind me, and more tears falling before I even get a chance to stop them.

[alltimefail]

Why doesn't Edwin call Charles, "Charlie?"

I shared the isolated audio of Charles' death scene where his "friends" taunted him as they killed him, and in that video, they called him "Charlie." This confirmed what many people in fandom already believed: Charles, a sporty teenage boy in the 80s, would not have gone by his proper first name and likely went by a nickname/shortened version of his name instead.

Now that we know that to be true, it does beg the question: why does Edwin call him Charles? I told you all not to get me started on this in the tags, but you stinkers want me to yap, so let's get into it! 😜

This is a very uninteresting answer, but I think Edwin does not call Charles "Charlie" simply because Charles did not introduce himself as such. Had he introduced himself as Charlie, I don't think Edwin would call him anything else.

This actually brings us to the "meat" of this analysis, and the more important question we need to ask: why would Charles choose not to introduce himself as "Charlie" if that's what people seemed to call him?

I have a couple of theories:

The first one: when Charles meets Edwin he's in a fragile state. A boy he's never seen in all his time at school approaches him, seeming to come out of thin air, just to bring him a lantern without any strings attached (even though Charles cannot give him anything in return). Charles has never experienced that kind of unconditional kindness in his life, and I'm sure that alone was enough to be a bit earth-shaking, mind-scrambling, and intimidating.

But it doesn't end there! The boy who brings the lantern is also claiming to be dead. Delerium/hallucinations are a common symptom of hypothermia so Charles could have though that Edwin was not real or was maybe even some kind of angel-like figure coming to keep him company in his final moments. I mean, the boy's wearing a dated school uniform, enters in a halo glow of golden light, and can walk through walls...it's not the wildest conclusion to jump to.

I think either of thos things individually or a combination of having your guard up, being a bit frazzled from the whole "dying" thing, and believing you're in the presence of an ethereal deity (combined with the fact that you're a people pleaser at your core) is enough to feel compelled to introduce yourself not in formal manner. Not to mention if Edwin introduced himself first, hand outstretched in a formal matter and proper posh accent on full display (something I can totally see him doing), Charles might have felt a bit silly calling himself by such a casual title.

While I think all of this can be varying degrees of true, however, my biggest personal headcanon is that Charles might not have introduced himself as Charlie because who's to say he LIKED that nickname? My circumstances were similar to Charles' growing up, I also had many nicknames from friends and family that I didn't ask for but was given anyway against my will... and I always hated it. Still cringe at some of them to this day, actually! So I think it's possible that Charlie Rowland met Edwin Payne, with all his formal stature and proper professional-sounding name, and took the opportunity to choose what he'd like to go by, without the influence of family or friends. In that way, his chosen identity that would kick off the rest of his existence moving forward (unknown to him at the moment, but true from a narrative standpoint nonetheless) serves as a "Taking your power back" moment for Charles who literally just heard the name "Charlie" being hurled at him as he begged for mercy from people who were supposed to be his friends. Even if he tolerated the nickname "Charlie" before, it certainly wouldn't have fond associations following the event that ended his life (if it had any positive associations to begin with).

Again, speaking from experience, Charlie also sounds like the kind of nickname that could be sugar-sweet on some tongues, innocent even, (his mother cooing over a young Charles), but terrifying from an abusive figure... a scathing kind of mockery. I've always imagined that Charles' dad more than likely called him Charlie, for example, and not in a fond, loving way (in the same way his so-called "friends" were not doing so in a loving way).

So yeah, why would Charles WANT to go by Charlie?

Now that we've established that, we can go back to Edwin...what you came here for!

All that in mind, I still don't see Edwin as the nickname type at all. From a romance standpoint I could maybe see him using a few dated, sappy endearments, but we don't ever hear him use a casual name toward anyone. In his lifetime Charlie would have been a perfectly normal name, but the kind of "fond" nicknaming practices and casual male friendships that happened in 1989 were not common practices in 1916, the Edwardian era. Even with his infinite fondness of Charles, I could never see Edwin uttering "Charlie." It doesn't feel right.

Plus, let's be honest: Edwin says Charles' name with enough love and reverence that he doesn't need to use an endearment. His tone says it all (lol).

Beyond that though, like I said above, I can't see Edwin feeling to impulse to call him "Charlie" because that's not how Charles introduced himself. Edwin strikes me as the kind of person that would be like, "If he wanted to be called Charlie, he surely would have said as much" and left it at that. But a name like Charlie also conveys a sort of youthfulness, and while he and Charles are 16 forever, technically, they have been detached from their lives for a long time and they're MUCH older than 16 in experience and in their professional life.

The only question I was left with, and one I've seen several people ponder, is why Charles would suggest they call The Night Nurse Charlie, (like from Charlie's Angels), as it seems a bit strange if his own name is Charlie/he went by Charlie. My answer/interpretation isn't that exciting, but it's one I feel makes the most sense: I honestly think this can easily be explained away by the fact that Charles is so far removed from that identity and so dissociated from his life that he no longer associates the name "Charlie" with himself in any way. Like it literally didn't even occur to him, in that moment, that Charlie/Charles are so similar because he has built a barrier in his mind between himself and that nickname; they're two entirely different identifiers to him. Whether that be a coping mechanism, or simply just something he wasn't thinking so deeply about (it has been 30 years since anyone called him that, except for Brad and Hunter in Port Townsend), we can't say for sure. However, it's clear Charles does not want to go by Charlie, and at least now we can safely assume why.

Let me know your thoughts! Do you agree with my interpretation? Do you have your own opinion that I didn't cover? Feel free to share with me!

Keep streaming Dead Boy Detectives & screaming about it ! Hugs to each and every one of you! 💜

[lunaritex]

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ THE ETERNAL OFFERING 𖤐. — nishimura riki

(๑>◡<๑) ৎ୭ nishimura riki + fem! reader immortal x immortal trope explicit suggestive content implied mature content 𐙚 warning mentions of reader being a sacrifice in the start religious themes god themes implied romantic relationship fighting . . !? & 10991 — navigation

note. i wanted to write something for riki and then the thought of him being a god came to my mind and that was how this was born... i might have gotten carried away though, whoops! i would like to say that im kinda proud of this so uh yeah. this is for you! @riekiss

The village had been bustling for days with preparations, each corner alive with whispered prayers and hushed conversations. The townsfolk moved with purpose, weaving wreaths of wildflowers, crafting intricate charms, and marking the paths leading out of the village with symbols meant to call for protection. For as long as you could remember, this ritual had been woven into the very fabric of your lives—a grim promise to the gods in exchange for your survival. 

The choice of the next offering was as natural as the changing of the seasons. From the moment you were old enough to understand, it had been gently yet unmistakably instilled in you that you were the one. The elders and your family had called it a blessing, stating how you are their savior and how you would be remembered for many years down the road. You, on the other hand, did not think much about it. 

Your village has gone through one natural disaster after another. At first, it was raining cats and dogs to the point that your rooftop collapsed, nearly crushing you and your parents who were taking shelter. Followed by the blight, stealing your precious food and water sources, leaving the villagers on the verge of starving to death. Anyone with eyes could tell everyone was reaching their limit and they had to do something, fast. And that was how you came in. 

As the sky turned a bruised shade of twilight, the leader of your village, accompanied by a few elders, arrived at your doorstep. Their expressions were somber but resolved. The leader, a man with deep-set wrinkles, nodded in acknowledgment as you opened the door. 

“We’re here to remind you, child,” he began, his voice soft but unwavering, “that tomorrow will mark the day-” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t run,” you interrupted, knowing the implications behind his words. Your response had an immediate effect on him, judging from how his shoulders sagged with relief and he nodded before leaving, allowing you to close the door. 

The night before the offering, your family gathered for what you knew would be your final meal together. None of your parents uttered a single word to you, both were frighteningly calm despite how their one and only daughter would be sent away and never returning. But you have grown used to their silent treatment. In your eyes, they were not your parents but instead, just a couple who had taken it upon themselves to ensure you grow up well enough to fit the role of a sacrifice. Nothing more and nothing less.

The next day, you were dressed in simple, white robes—an offering garb provided by the village elders. It felt surreal, as if you were watching someone else preparing for this cruel fate that was bestowed upon you; an unfortunate victim. You stepped out of your house, turning to see your parents standing by the entrance with unreadable expressions on their faces. As much as you wished to just turn and walk away, you could not. 

“...Thank you for everything,” you bowed and left without waiting for their response. Although, your ears picked up the faint sounds of muffled sobbing but you did not bother to turn around. 

You continued walking to the main entrance of the village, where the priest and a small group of elders waited. They said little as they guided you along a path toward the mountainside, where legend held that the gods sometimes descended to receive their offerings. Finally, you reached a quiet clearing surrounded by ancient trees, their trunks thick and twisted, casting shadows that seemed to deepen as the sun began to rise. 

The air felt thick, almost alive, as if the shadows themselves were watching, waiting. The priest performed a brief ritual, murmuring words that faded into the air. There was only silence when he finished, broken by the faint rustling of leaves and the distant call of a bird. 

The shadows in the trees seemed to grow darker, the light around us dimming until the forest was bathed in an unnatural twilight. The air stilled, a deep, suffocating silence settling over everyone. Then, a gust of icy wind swept through, sending chills down your spine. You felt a presence—a weight that pressed down on the space around you, as if the shadows themselves had taken form. Whispers seemed to drift through the darkness, soft and unsettling. Your heart hammered as you scanned the treeline, searching for any sign of movement.

And then, he appeared. 

Riki, the God of Shadows, emerged from the dark like a living specter. His figure seemed to dissolve into the surrounding shadows and then coalesce again, each step a silent ripple across the ground. He wore black robes that seemed to move on their own accord, the fabric shifting and swirling around him as though woven from darkness itself. His face was otherworldly—beautiful, yet cold, with eyes like polished obsidian. Those eyes settled on you, sharp and unyielding, his gaze as penetrating as a blade. 

Gasps and stifled cries echoed behind you as the villagers took in the sight of him. No one had ever seen the God of Shadows before. Legends spoke of him as a faceless presence, a mysterious deity who commands fear everywhere he goes. But here he was, standing in your midst, as real as the earth beneath your feet. His piercing gaze swept over the trembling villagers for a fleeting moment before settling on you, his eyes holding a strange, unreadable expression. 

Your body felt frozen, caught between terror and awe. As he approached, the shadows seemed to bow to him, the darkness shifting and folding around his every step. He stopped just a few centimeters away, studying you with an unreadable expression. His silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, as if he was measuring your every soul. 

“You must the offering,” he said, eyes fixated on you and for a brief moment, you wondered if he had the ability to look into your soul. 

You struggled to find your voice, but somehow, you managed to nod. "Yes… I am."

His expression softened ever so slightly, though his expression remained unreadable. “Do you understand what this means?”

His question hung in the air, but before you could speak, someone amongst the crowd of villagers had spoken up, interrupting the tense silence. 

The elder who had paid you a visit yesterday, stepped forward. “No,” he said, his voice trembling yet determined. “This is not right. You should not be here, Riki.” 

His words wavered, but he pressed on, his gaze fierce as he continued. “You are not a god. You are nothing but a shadow, a curse cast upon this world. You are not worthy to be a god.”

Murmurs of uncertainty rippled through the gathered villagers. Some looked on in silent awe at Riki, while others shrank back, afraid but unwilling to show it. Riki’s eyes shifted, his gaze cold and unwavering as he turned his attention to the elder, a sharp, disdainful sneer pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

"And what would you know of gods, old man?" Riki’s voice was like the quietest whisper, yet somehow it seemed to resonate over the crowd, filling the air with a foreboding chill. "I have existed longer than your ancestors have drawn breath. You speak of what you do not understand."

The elder, visibly shaking now, stubbornly held his ground, puffing himself up with a courage born of desperation. "You are not welcome here," he insisted, raising a hand as if he could ward off the god of shadows with a single gesture. "I command you to leave."

Before anyone could react, another elder, perhaps emboldened by his comrade’s words, lunged forward, a crude charm in hand. He thrust it toward Riki, chanting something incoherent, his voice trembling with conviction. But before he could close the distance, Riki merely lifted a hand, his expression unfazed and almost bored.

A dark shadow surged from Riki’s fingers, swift and effortless. The elder was caught mid-step, swept off his feet by an invisible force. The charm slipped from his fingers, falling uselessly to the ground as he was thrown back, landing in the dirt with a gasp of pain. The villagers gasped, horror dawning on their faces as they watched the elder struggle to sit up, visibly shaken.

"Any other brave souls?" Riki’s voice dripped with mocking amusement as he scanned the crowd, his sneer deepening. Shadows coiled around him, dark tendrils that seemed to pulse with his heartbeat, amplifying the unsettling power radiating from him. No one dared to move. Whispers rippled through the villagers as they shrank back, clutching each other in fright, eyes wide as they took in the extent of his power.

You stood frozen, caught between terror and awe as you observed the scene unfold itself from head to toe. Riki turned back to you, his expression softening just a fraction, his gaze still intense but tempered with something unreadable. 

“Now,” he murmured, his voice only for your ears. “Do you understand the gravity of the situation you are in? The moment you agree, you have to leave your old life behind and you will not return anymore.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words would not come. How could you even explain your choice? The pressure of so many watching eyes, the weight of your village’s expectations… In truth, you had not understood what it truly meant to be an offering until this very moment, standing before a god. 

Riki’s eyes flickered, as though picking up on your hesitation. His voice softened, though it held a strange kind of power. “You are not here by accident. You were chosen—whether by fate or by their desperation." He glanced at the huddled villagers, his gaze unreadable. "But what you offer is not mere obedience. To stay by my side is a choice that you, and only you, can make. Are you ready to accept that?"

As you looked at the villagers, you saw no sign of your parents. You remembered how the villagers had treated you and that was when you made up your mind: you will leave this life behind and start a new life, this time with Riki by your side. 

“I will accept that,” you said, your voice a whisper meant for him only, “but on one condition.” 

Riki arched an eyebrow. “And what would that condition be? Tell me, and I will make it come true.” 

“Let them die,” you said, voice unwavering. “Let the village fall. I am no longer tied to them. If I am to be your offering, then they deserve nothing from you. Not your protection, nor your mercy.” 

Riki’s expression shifted, a glimmer of surprise in his gaze, followed by an intrigue that darkened the depths of his eyes. He regarded you in silence, his lips curving into a faint smile that carried both admiration and something darker—a recognition of your resolve.

“You would see them perish?” he murmured, studying you with a newfound intensity. “The very same people who raised you, who sheltered you? You wish to abandon them to their fate?” 

You nodded, your voice growing steadier with every word. “They have abandoned me first. If they are so willing to sacrifice me to save themselves, then let them face the consequences of their choice. They should no longer be your concern… nor mine.” 

A flicker of satisfaction flashed in Riki's eyes, as if he found something in your words that pleased him. His shadows pulsed, swirling like a storm gathering in the depths of his power. He steps closer and closer, only stopping until you are within distance. You fought the urge to flinch when he reached out a hand to caress your cheek with such gentleness that you would have assumed you were lovers. To your surprise, his palm was not cold but instead, it was warm. Warm like a regular mortal’s palm. 

“Very well,” he said, his voice a low, velvety whisper that sent a chill down your spine. “Consider your condition accepted.” He paused, leaning close enough that you could feel the faint, icy touch of his power radiating from him. "You are bound to me now, and I will have no ties to this village. They will be left to face whatever comes without my hand to save them."

A strange sense of relief settled within you, a liberation that was both terrifying and exhilarating. You had severed the final thread that connected you to your past, embracing a future that lay in shadows you had yet to understand. The villagers watched in stunned silence, as if sensing the shift between you, but unable to grasp its meaning. Some tried to call out, murmuring half-hearted words of comfort or farewell, but you did not look back.

With a single gesture, Riki enveloped you in his shadows, his power sweeping over you in a cold, dark embrace. The village, with all its fears and demands, disappeared behind a curtain of darkness. You felt nothing as it vanished from sight—no regret, no sorrow.

~

The shadows dispersed, revealing a spacious bedroom unlike any place you have ever seen. A wall of ceiling-to-floor windows stretched along one side of the room, offering a breathtaking view of the ocean below, where waves rolled in dark blue and silver under a twilight sky. The horizon stretched endlessly, blending sea and sky in a seamless, misty line. 

The room had a refined yet faintly modern touch. The floor was a smooth, polished stone with a subtle shimmer, and a plush, oversized bed was positioned in the center, draped in soft black and charcoal fabrics. Subtle touches of luxury were scattered throughout—a glass vase on the nightstand with a single dark rose, polished wooden panels along the walls, and a sleek, minimal chandelier that hung above, casting a warm, muted glow over the space. The ceiling was high, while rich, heavy curtains hung beside the window panels, ready to enclose the room in complete privacy when drawn.

Through a set of glass doors, a balcony beckoned, offering an unobstructed view of the vast ocean below. The air was crisp, carrying a hint of salt and mystery, as if this place existed on the very edge of the world. You took a step forward, unable to hide your awe at the majestic space. Turning, you found Riki standing beside you, watching you intently. His gaze held an expectant glimmer, and you noticed him fidgeting slightly, shifting from foot to foot. 

He seemed almost…nervous, an unusual expression for someone who commanded such fear and awe from others. It was almost as if he was waiting for you to say something—anything—that would affirm your approval. For a moment, he looked less like a god and more like a young boy eager for praise, his shoulders tensing, fingers brushing against each other absently. He glanced at the room, then back at you, a flicker of insecurity passing over his face. 

“What do you think?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying a faint, hopeful note. It was a huge contrast to his intimidating demeanor earlier, but it puts you at ease—knowing that he trusts you enough to show another side of him. 

You took a slow breath, allowing a small smile to creep onto your face as you met his gaze. “I think you did a wonderful job.” 

Your praise seemed to have an immediate effect on him. His expression softened, relief and a hint of satisfaction crossing his face. The shadows around him settled down, as though your approval had brought him a sense of calm. But curiosity still tugged at you, and you could not hold back the question forming in your mind. 

“But why would you do all of this for someone like me?” You asked, voice almost a whisper. “I’m just…a mortal.” 

For a moment, the god seemed almost taken aback. Then, a faint smile touched his lips, and his gaze softened, a shadow of something like nostalgia flickered in his eyes. He approached you, closing the distance with every step he took. The shadows around him grew smaller and smaller, until it was only his silhouette being reflected on the floor, making him more humane. He stopped in front of you, maintaining a small distance but he was close enough to make your heart stop beating for a moment. 

“You think you’re just a mortal,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with an emotion you could not quite place. His eyes caught the dim light, almost glowing as he continued. “But I have watched you long before you ever knew of my existence. From the moment you were born, I’ve been there… drawn to you in ways I couldn’t explain.” 

You looked at him, startled, and he gave a small, almost bashful smile, as if he, the God of Shadows, was admitting a secret. 

“Every year, I would watch you grow, seeing glimpses of your life,” he continued. “Your kindness, your loyalty… even your pain. I’ve seen it all.” His voice softened as he looked down for a brief moment, as if remembering the countless moments he had witnessed.

“And as you grew,” he went on, “I couldn’t help but feel… connected to you. Bound by something more powerful than time or distance.” He lifted his gaze, and in that moment, his eyes held a warmth that seemed to pierce through the very shadows surrounding him.

"Perhaps that’s why I’ve prepared all this for you,” he finished, his tone barely above a whisper. "You may think you’re merely human, but to me… you have always been someone significant. Someone worth waiting for."

You were speechless as you listened to him. If he was not a god, you would have assumed he was a regular human being, just a simple boy who had finally plucked up his courage to confess. But the mere fact that he was a god, someone who deserves respect and someone who can destroy anything and everything standing in his path, is spilling his heart out to you: a mortal, does wonders to your heart. 

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you stuttered over your word and Riki chuckled, finding great amusement in your embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to say anything. The last thing I want is to pressure you to make the wrong choice,” the smile he gave you does not meet his eyes and for a moment, you felt remorseful for your response but he continued. “How about I give you a tour of the apartment? I’m sure you'll find it to be a lovely and comfortable place to stay in.” 

The entire apartment was enveloped in a faintly modern elegance that mirrored the bedroom’s luxurious yet mysterious design, with muted tones, shadowy corners, and fine details that hinted at his taste. It was grand yet inviting, a place built to impress without overwhelming.

You walked beside him as he led you out of the bedroom. Both of you had to walk a short distance to the flight of curved stairs. You almost slipped and would have ungracefully tumbled down the stairs if Riki did not steadied you in the nick of time. You felt your ears flushed red when you felt his large hands rested on the sides of your waist, his fingers nearly touching. Your back rested against his chest, upper body slightly tilted backward. 

“You should be more careful, unless you want me to carry you around to prevent you from slipping,” he teased, his hot breath grazing against the back of your neck with every word he spoke. The angle was awkward, considering how he was standing a few steps behind you, making him tower over your figure. 

“No thank you, I don’t want to be a bother,” you apologized, straightening yourself as you moved away and continued your descent down the stairs until you reached the first floor. 

The living room was stunning. Expansive floor-to-ceiling windows stretched along the far wall, allowing the view of the dark ocean to blend with the room itself. The ocean shimmered faintly under the evening sky, casting a soft, silver glow over the space. A set of deep charcoal couches framed the room, their plush cushions adorned with silken pillows in shades of obsidian and slate. The furniture was both elegant and comfortable, almost inviting you to sink into its embrace.

In the center of the room was a sleek, low glass coffee table, artfully arranged with a few ornate candles and a bowl filled with obsidian stones. Nearby, a minimalist fireplace embedded within the wall flickered with a cold, bluish flame, casting an ethereal glow that filled the room with a soft warmth.

Bookshelves lined one side of the living room, filled with volumes bound in leather and delicate metalwork. A series of framed, abstract paintings in muted grays and blues adorned the walls, blending seamlessly with the room’s monochromatic theme. Elegant, unobtrusive lighting was scattered strategically across the ceiling, casting a soft, almost magical glow that danced along the floor and highlighted the darker elements of the decoration. 

Riki glanced over his shoulder as you took it all in, his eyes glimmering with a quiet, almost bashful pride. He waited for you to take in the details, his posture relaxed yet attentive, as though he was searching your face for any sign of approval or delight.

He gestured subtly to the window, where the balcony beyond opened to the endless expanse of ocean and sky. “This is your view,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur, “as long as you’re here.”

You stepped forward, getting closer to the opened row of windows as you rested your hands on the railings. You took in the jaw-dropping view with awe and amazement written all over your face. Riki stood by your left but you were too entranced by the view to even notice that he was admiring your expression, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Why do you make it sound like I have a choice in the first place? I came here on my free will,” you replied in a light-hearted manner, although that was not the implication Riki got. Instead, he looked rather guilty for a moment before he composed himself. 

“Do you regret coming here?” He murmured, sounding almost afraid the moment the words left his lips. 

You turned to him. “No, I don’t,” you paused, forming your jumbled thoughts into proper sentences. The god was surprised at how easily you answered his question as you continued, “I don’t feel any connection to the people there. To them, I was nothing but merely a disposable pawn, nothing more and nothing less. That’s why I chose to leave my old life behind and start a new life from scratch.” 

Riki hums in acknowledgement. “You might not believe me, but I think that’s very brave of you to forgo your past.” 

“What’s this? I didn’t expect to hear a god praising a human being,” you teased. Your remark was enough to make him exasperatedly roll his eyes, “but thank you, Riki. That means a lot coming from someone like you,” you continued, your voice filled with sincerity as you thanked him. 

He smiled and with the way a gentle gust of wind blew past, causing his hair to fly about combined with the setting sunlight hitting his face in just the right angle, made your breath hitch in your throat. You were momentarily caught off-guard with how attractive he looked, especially with how he had bangs partially shielding his left eye. Realizing you were staring at him in prolonged silence, you awkwardly cleared your throat and tore your eyes away from him. 

“W-Well, I think it’ll be best for me to uh, take a shower,” you squeaked out, dashing back into the living room without waiting for his response, leaving the amused god behind. 

~

You spent the next few weeks familiarizing yourself with the apartment, exploring every inch to your heart’s content. Your relationship with Riki was unknown. It was neither romantic or platonic, at least that was what you think. He treats you well and you are living a comfortable and luxurious life, thanks to his status. Being a god has many advantages, and one of them means whatever you wish for, it will appear before your face. All the god had to do was to snap his fingers and be it clothes, food or accessories, it will appear out of thin air. 

You knew his title but yet, you could not help but be curious of his other abilities, other than the ones you have seen and heard of, bringing you to your current situation. You were laying on the sofa in the living room, your head resting on the armrest with your right leg propped up as you rested your left leg over your right knee. You were engrossed in reading a book to the point that you were oblivious that Riki had made his appearance. 

“What are you reading?” 

You visibly flinched, dropping the book and yelped when it landed squarely on your nose. Groaning, you removed the book to see the culprit responsible for scaring you appearing in your sight. He stood near the armrest of the sofa, looking down at you, amused with your reaction. You shot him a glare as you pushed yourself up, placing your bookmark between the two pages you last stopped at. 

“Don’t do that again or I might die due to a heart attack,” you scowled, lightly smacking his shoulder. 

“That won’t happen, and even if it did, I can merely make it start again,” he shrugged his shoulders. Riki sat on the armrest with one knee resting on the edge. He leans over slightly to get a glimpse of the book cover, only for him to quirk an eyebrow when he recognized the title. 

“I didn’t know you’re a romantic at heart,” he commented, silently patting his lap. 

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your position so you could rest your head on his lap, as per his request. He preens at your obedience, running his hand through your hair and your eyelids fluttered close at his touch. 

“Where were you?” You asked, eyes glancing up to him. You closed your eyes when he poked your forehead. 

“I was busy with something, nothing you have to worry about,” he casually replied but you were not pleased with his vague response. 

“Tell me, unless you’re hiding something from me,” you accused, narrowing your eyes as you pushed yourself up, turning to face him. He dropped his hand, resting it on his clothed knee and stared at you, the corners of his lips threatening to curl upwards. 

You frowned, “Did you went out there killing—” 

You were cut off mid-sentence when Riki cupped your face, tilting it up for him to slot your lips together. This was not the first time he had kissed you to silence you and it always works. His lips pressed against yours, firm yet tender and you felt your heart leap in response. The kiss was unhurried, as if he were savoring each moment, each breath. When he finally pulled away, his eyes held a mischievous glint, an unspoken answer lingering in his gaze. 

“Some questions,” he murmured, voice low, almost teasing as he drew circles on your cheek, “are better left for another time.” 

You blinked up at him, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity swirling in your chest. You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, the beginnings of a protest forming on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak. But Riki’s expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Before you could utter a word, he leaned in again, silencing your unspoken question with another kiss; more intense than the previous kiss. His arms traveled down to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, warm and coaxing, unraveling any resistance you might have. 

You could feel your body going pliant in his grip. You rested your hands on his shoulders; a habit you had gained as you parted your lips upon feeling him asking for permission. A breathy whine was ripped from the depths of your throat when his tongue explored your cavern with one, thorough lick. You grabbed a fistful of his abyssal-like hair, roughly tugging it when he teasingly bit down on your lip. Your action elicited a pleased sigh that you eagerly swallowed. 

His fingers threaded through your hair, anchoring you as his touch grew a shade more intense, deeper, making your heart race. Riki slid his hand underneath the shirt you wore—his shirt, to be exact, teasingly moving upwards on your spine. His touch leaves goosebumps in its wake and you shudder; the movement making him smile into the kiss. When he finally pulled away, his previously styled hair was now messed up, with some strands stretching out at different angles. His lips curved into a soft, satisfied smile, his gaze holding yours with a silent promise. 

“Trust me,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your swollen bottom lip. “The answers will come in time. But not today.” 

You huffed, moving your hands down to grab him by the front of his shirt and tugged him forward. Your sudden action caught him off-guard. Riki’s eyes widened momentarily, his hands tightening around your waist. You shot him a teasing grin, looking at him with half-lidded eyes as you leaned in until your lips were brushing against one another. 

“If that’s the case, then how about we picked up where we left off?” You cooed, taking note of how the god’s eyes darkened. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he chuckled, easily carrying you in his arms in one fluid movement. Squeaking, you clung onto him for dear life as he led you to where the bedroom was, “but fine by me, I guess it’s my responsibility to indulge in you once in a while.” 

~

You woke up, feeling much refreshed than usual. The thought of the reason made your cheeks flushed red as you squirmed about on the comfortable bed. Your ears picked up the rustling of sheets from behind, only for you to be pulled backward. Your back hit a firm chest and you made no point to turn, not when you knew who it was. Shivers ran down your spine when you felt butterfly kisses planted on the back of your neck. 

“Good morning, did you sleep well?” Riki asked, his voice raspy. You remained silent, eyes closed as you pretended you were still sleeping. Although, both of you knew that he could see through your facade. The only form of warning you got was the curl of his lips against your skin before he launched his attack.

“Riki—wait—no!” You managed to squeak out before laughter overtook you. 

His fingers moved with relentless intent, tickling you mercilessly. You twisted and turned, trying desperately to escape, but his grip on your waist only tightened, holding you in place. 

“Stop! I—can’t—breathe!” You choked out between fits of laughter, swatting at his hands in a futile attempt to fend him off.

His face lit up with a playful grin, a rare boyishness breaking through his usually composed demeanor. “Stop?” he teased, voice lit with mock innocence. “But you look like you’re having fun.” 

You glared at him through your laughter, breathless and utterly helpless. Your attempts to wiggle free only seemed to amuse him further, his hold steady as if he were effortlessly taming the chaos he had created. 

“Riki, I mean it!” You said through gasps, your voice shaking with laughter as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “You’re going to—ah—pay for this!”

“Oh?” He smirked, pausing for just a second, his hands still resting on your waist. “And how exactly do you plan to make me pay?” His playful tone and raised brow made it clear he was not the least bit threatened by your empty threat.

You seized the brief moment of reprieve to catch your breath, your heart racing from both the tickling and the laughter. “I—I'll figure it out!” You shot back, squirming away the moment he paused, wanting to create as much distance as you could. 

“Good luck with that,” he quipped, deciding to show some mercy. 

Riki remained where he was, now sitting up on the bed with the crumpled sheets covering his lap as he observed you getting out of bed. He could not help but snicker when he saw how your legs trembled slightly and how you had to hold onto the nearest surface for support. You shot him a death glare but the god was unfazed. Instead, he sends you an infuriating smirk that makes you have the urge to wipe it off his face. 

“Need any help?” He asks, resting his chin on his left fist. 

“No thank you, I can handle this by myself,” you retorted, limping your way to the bathroom and pointedly closed the door, shutting out his laughter. 

~

When you finished getting dressed, you went to the living room and were greeted by a familiar face who was engaged in what seemed to be a serious conversation with Riki, judging from the solemn expressions on their faces. You moved to the kitchen, wanting to pour yourself a glass of water when your appearance caught their attention. 

“Good morning (Name), did you sleep well?” Jay greeted you, giving you a polite and friendly smile as he waved at you from where he sat. 

You returned the smile and wave, “Good morning Jay, and yes I did, thank you. What brings you here? It’s rare to see you dropping by,” you asked after greeting him, entering the living room after pouring two glasses of water; one for yourself and one for him. 

Jay accepted the glass with a grateful nod of his head while Riki scoffs. “You didn’t have to do that for him,” he said in a sulky tone, pulling you down so you could sit on his lap, his hand resting on your thigh. 

Jay blinks at the sight of the two of you before looking at Riki, who took it upon himself to rest his chin on your shoulder before answering you. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, just the regular stuff about our responsibilities.” He downs the water in one go, leaving the now empty glass on the coffee table and rises to his feet. 

“I should get going, I wouldn't want to disrupt your time together,” he said, making your ears turn red.

“You weren’t disrupting,” you protested, but the grip on your thigh tightened at your response. Jay merely smiled, biding the both of you farewell before he left without you seeing him out. 

“Now that he’s gone, how about we head out today? I think the weather’s perfect,” Riki asked, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he greedily inhaled your scent. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, leaning back against him. 

“We can descend to the mortal realm and visit a town if you’re keen. I heard there’s a festival happening today,” he proposed. 

Hearing this, you instantly turned and your face lit up with excitement at the mention of the festival. “Then what are we waiting for? We should get going.” 

You jumped off his lap, rushing up the stairs to the bedroom to get changed. Riki remained where he was, leaning back with his hands resting on the sofa behind him. He observed your retreating figure with a soft smile on his face, endeared with your behavior. It did not take you long to get dressed, choosing comfort over style and when you were done, you went back down to the living room. The god had changed out of his usual clothes, now cladded in black from head to toe. What piqued your interest however, was a pair of thinly-framed glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

It was unfair how Riki looks even better when all he did was to wear glasses. He smirks when he sees how you were staring at him, mesmerized by the sight. “As much as I’d like for you to keep looking at me, I think we should go before we’re too late.” 

His response brought heat to your cheeks, flustered that you were caught red-handed. You held his outstretched hand as he used his ability to bring you to the town where the festival is taking place. Despite having experienced it a few times, you were still not used to the feeling. It was strange, for it feels like all of your senses were ripped away from you, only for them to abruptly return to you when you arrived at your destination. 

The shadows dissipate, revealing a lively town with people everywhere. You took in your surroundings with awe, watching as some stopped to look at the store displays that were set up along a straight path. Overwhelmed with excitement, you wasted no time in dragging Riki along to visit one of the nearest stalls. You stopped by the front and were instantly hit with the fragrance of skewers being roasted by the side. Your mouth waters and you point at the row of sticks.

“Hi, I’d like to get two please,” you requested, and the owner nodded, turning two sticks back and forth before handing it to you. Thanking him, you paid the appropriate money and handed one stick to Riki. 

“Here, you should try it,” you said, pushing the stick closer to his face. The god scrunches his nose as he warily eyes the food. He ended up leaning forward to take a small nibble and you observed his reaction. You observed how he slowly chewed, eyebrows furrowed with a thoughtful look on his face that was eventually replaced with genuine surprise. The sight of his expressions changing made you laugh. You playfully elbowed him as he took the stick from your grip. 

“It’s good, right?” You asked and he nodded, now taking a huge bite out of it. 

“Yes, it’s better than I imagined. You seem awfully excited about coming here. Have you never been to a festival before?” He quirked an eyebrow, gently pulling you along so the both of you could venture down the streets to explore the other stalls. 

You shook your head with a sad smile, “No, this is my first time. Ever since I was born and the moment I was told I would be used as an offering, my parents forbid me from stepping out of the house. I was practically locked up and they had stolen my freedom.” 

Riki hums, running his thumb along your knuckles. “On the bright side, you have your well-deserved freedom now. That doesn’t sound too bad, does it?” 

You laughed, squeezing his hand and you felt him return the gesture in a heartbeat. “Yes, I’m as free as a bird now and it’s all thanks to you.” 

The next stall that caught your attention was a stall selling charms. Intrigued, you stopped to admire the displays and it seems like the owner was busy with another customer. Riki stood behind you, watching over your shoulder as you purse your lips, pondering on which design to choose. You leaned back to rest your back against his chest, turning your head slightly towards him. 

“Do you see any you like?” You asked. He was about to reply when a horrified gasp interrupted your conversation. You faced the front, surprised to see the owner; an elderly woman pointing a bony finger at Riki. 

Her lips parted in a gasp of pure horror. “It can’t be…” she whispered, her voice quaking with a mix of fear and disbelief. Her frail frame seemed to shrink further as she pointed a bony finger at Riki, her eyes wide and wild. “The God of Shadows,” she breathed.

Your confusion deepened as you turned to Riki, only to find his expression eerily calm, though a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. The tension in the air was palpable, as though the shadows around you had grown heavier, darker. The woman’s voice rose in a shaky accusation. “You… you cursed her!” she cried, her words dripping with terror and despair. “That poor girl—she has no idea what you’ve done, does she? How her soul is bound to your darkness!”

You blinked, startled and utterly lost. “What is she talking about?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked between her and Riki.

But Riki only sneered, the amused glint in his eyes contrasting starkly with the woman’s trembling outrage. “Old habits die hard,” he said lazily, his tone dripping with indifference. “You always were good at spinning tales to scare the gullible.”

The elder woman’s hand shook as she clutched the talisman tighter, her gaze never leaving Riki’s. “This is no tale,” she hissed. “You’ve marked her, haven’t you? She’s yours now, whether she knows it or not.”

Riki’s smirk only widened as he turned his full attention to the elder woman, his shadowy aura growing thicker, almost tangible. “Marked her?” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Why don’t I show you just how marked she is?”

Before you could react, Riki leaned in, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to your cheek. The gesture was light, fleeting, but it sent a jolt of shock through you—and absolute terror through the stall owner. A blood-curdling scream erupted from her lips, her eyes widening as though she had witnessed the world itself shattering. “No! Stay away from her, you vile creature!” she screeched, her voice cracking with panic.

Her trembling hands fumbled for something on her stall, and in a blur of desperation, she grabbed the nearest item—a ceremonial dagger. Its blade glinted in the dim light, etched with ancient symbols that seemed to hum with power. With surprising speed for someone her age, she lunged at Riki, her face twisted with both fear and determination. “You won’t take her, demon!” she cried as she swung the dagger.

Riki stepped back with effortless grace, but not fast enough. The blade grazed his cheek, leaving a shallow, crimson line in its wake. A single drop of blood trailed down his face, stark against his skin. The crowd around you gasped, a ripple of shock spreading as the tension escalated. But Riki did not flinch. If anything, the sight of the dagger and the sting of the cut only seemed to amuse him further. Your eyes widened at the sight of the crimson liquid. You quickly moved, hands reaching out to cup his face and your left thumb gingerly wiped the blood away, leaving a smudge behind. 

“Are you alright?” You murmured, only focused on the god standing before you, despite how you were in the center of everyone’s attention and how they were observing your every movement. Your sudden action caused whispers and murmurs amongst the growing audience but you turned a blind eye to them. None of them were worth your attention. Not when Riki is in front of you. 

He leaned into your touch, like a touch-starved cat and nodded, “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’ll heal within seconds.”

The elder woman’s expression twisted in disbelief and fury. “You… You’ve bewitched her!” she spat, pointing the dagger toward him again. “Get out of here, the both of you. I don’t want my business to be ruined.” 

Riki smirks, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you gently yet possessively toward him. “If that’s what you wish. Good luck with your business,” he raised a hand as he directed you away from the stall, raising a hand to bid the fuming woman farewell. It was only when you were out of sight then you questioned him. 

“What was that about?” You inquired, curiosity getting the better of you. 

“I think she was a shaman and she must’ve seen through my disguise,” he sneers, eyes facing forward as he makes a turn to the left, leading you further away from the crowded street. The people around you were oblivious to the fact that a God was walking amongst them. All of them were too busy minding their respective lives. 

“Perhaps I should’ve killed her,” he continues, sounding almost as if he was deep in thought. 

You raised an eyebrow at his sentence. “And how would you do that?” 

“I have my ways and besides, I’m not the God of Shadows for nothing,” he shrugged his shoulders. “But never mind that, do you still want to continue or are you feeling tired already?” 

You sighed, “Let’s go home. My feet are starting to hurt from all the walking we did.” 

“Of course.” 

~ 

A few weeks passed but the encounter with the elderly woman has never left your mind. You could not focus on any of your tasks, be it as something simple as reading a book or making yourself a snack to eat. Riki was the same as always, showing no signs of indifference. A part of you wanted to ask him for answers but another part of you knew what his response would be. He will avoid your questions like the plague and provide vague answers, choosing to beat around the bush instead of getting to the point. 

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the night outside, the soft glow of the moon filtering through the window. Riki stood close, his dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His hand reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Like what?” you whispered, barely managing to find your voice as your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

“Like you’re trying to figure me out,” he said, stepping closer, his hand now tracing a feather-light path along your jawline. “Spoiler alert: you never will.”

“Riki…” You let out a pleased sigh when your lips brushed against one another, eyelids fluttering close. 

Your arms loosely wrapped themselves around his neck, using it as an anchor to ground yourself as your body grew limp in his hold. The god smiles into the kiss, taking his sweet time in tasting you. The pace heavily depends on his mood. It could be sloppy and messy and sometimes, it could be gentle and delicate, as if you were a piece of fragile glass that could shatter anytime. You whined when he nipped your bottom lip, making you tug his hair as a form of warning. He apologized by running his tongue along the seams of your lips before pulling away, chuckling at the sound of protest you made. 

This time, you were the one to close the distance and he allows it, allowing you to be greedy. Riki’s hand slid to the back of your neck, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss, while his other hand snaked its way underneath your shirt, running his hand up your spine, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss grew desperate and you sensed it before it actually happened. The temperature in the room changed and you were being pushed back onto the bed with Riki now hovering over you, who has not pulled away the entire time. 

You melted into him, arching your back off the bed to press yourself against him, wanting to feel his body. Your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt as he forcefully parted your lips with his tongue. Muffled sounds akin to whimpers and mewls dripped from your lips. The taste of him was downright intoxicating and ever since he touched you, you were beyond addicted to his touch. Perhaps it was due to how touch-starved you were that made you drunk on Riki, where all you could think about was him and only him. 

He kissed like he fought—with precision, passion, and the undeniable intent to leave you utterly breathless. His lips trailed to the corner of your mouth, then along your jaw, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “You drive me insane, you know that?” he whispered against your skin, his tongue darting out to lick your neck. 

“Good,” you managed to tease, your own breath hitching as you tilted your head back, granting him more access to your unblemished skin. You felt him mouthing the area just below your jawline, not low enough for the collars of your shirts to conceal it but not high enough for you to easily hide it either. 

You bite down on your lips, suppressing the whine when you feel Riki sucks on your skin. The sensation was nearly enough to make your eyes roll up. Your grip on his shirt tightened when you felt him moving to another area to leave another hickey. 

“R-Riki, what are you—” You asked, only to let out a pathetic mewl when he teasingly bit down on your skin, not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to elicit a reaction out of you. 

“Sorry darling,” he chuckles, his hot breath grazing against your skin. The god pulls away to admire his handiwork, taking note of the marks he left behind; a firm and visible reminder that you belong to him. 

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled, lips curling down in a pout. Riki’s eyes softened at the sight. He leans in to kiss you on the lips and you gasped when you felt him pushing your shirt upwards, revealing more of your skin to him. 

“Sounds like you don’t accept my apology. Perhaps I can show it in another way instead,” he grins and you could only gulp, mentally preparing yourself for the incoming torture from him. 

~

You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty scent of the ocean and the fresh air. You squint your eyes when a strong gust of breeze blows past, only to yelp when your hat is blown away. A hand shot out, appearing in your sight and managed to grab the hat before it was gone. The figure moved to stand before you and he placed the hat on your head. 

“You should be more careful. What if you get blown away next?” Riki teased. 

“If that happens, you better catch me,” you retorted, leaning in to press a chaste kiss on his lips. You laughed at how he chased after your lips when you pulled away. 

“You know, as cute as the two of you are, I’ve been standing here for a solid five minutes and I’m starting to think I’ve turned invisible.” 

You turned to your left and saw Heeseung standing a few feet away. He was dressed in casual clothes; a plain black undershirt with a denim jacket over it and a pair of pants. No one would be able to tell he was the God of War. Smiling, you waved at the approaching figure as you moved away from Riki. 

“Heeseung, what brings you here?” You greeted him once he was closer and gave him a hug, to which he returned the gesture before pulling away. 

“I’m here for Riki actually. I need to talk to him about something,” the other replied, eyes glancing in his direction. 

You looked between the two and nodded in understanding. “I see, well I guess I shouldn’t be listening then.” You were about to walk away but Riki stopped you by grabbing your wrist. Heeseung raised an eyebrow at that, bemused. 

“No, you can stay. I have a feeling what he wants to say concerns you,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at Heeseung who sighed, nodding in agreement. At this point, you were confused but you obliged, remaining where you were and waiting for him to speak. 

His expression turned grim. "I've been hearing whispers," he said, his gaze flickering between you and Riki. "There are minor gods—restless, envious ones—who’ve taken notice of her. They’ve been talking about her purity, how untouched her soul is. And the fact that you," Heeseung looked directly at Riki, "turned her immortal only makes her more desirable to them. To them, she’s an anomaly. Something extraordinary. They’re determined to get their hands on her, no matter what it takes."

Your breath caught, and you glanced at Riki, feeling the tension rising instantly. His jaw clenched, shadows pooling around him like living creatures as his anger began to take form. His eyes darkened with an unspoken fury. This was the first time you had seen him getting angry. But when he spoke, his voice carried a chilling confidence.

“Let them come,” Riki sneered, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll show them what happens when they try to take what’s mine.”

The air seemed to darken around him, his shadows weaving and coiling as if responding to his anger. Though his expression was sharp and his tone dismissive, there was a feral edge to his presence that made you shiver. Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by Riki's display, though there was a trace of amusement in his knowing gaze.

“Just don’t underestimate them,” Heeseung warned, leaning forward. “You might be strong, but so are they. And they won’t play fair.”

Riki’s smirk widened, his anger simmering just below the surface. “They’re welcome to try. I’ll make sure it’s the last mistake they ever make.”

Heeseung took his leave after that and the tension vanished once he was gone. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Well, I guess the mood’s ruined now. What are you planning to do?” You turned to him. 

“I could find them first and kill them but I don’t want to leave you here alone,” he replied, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“But I won’t be alone, I can stay over at either Jay’s or Heeseung’s—” 

“Do not say another man’s name, not after we’ve had sex,” he deadpanned, scrunching his nose as if it was too painful for him to say that. 

You rolled your eyes, amused with the way he starts sulking like a little kid, “Are you jealous?” 

“No,” he instantly replied, which sounded way too suspicious, “why would I be jealous of them? It’s not like they’re better than me. I’m better than them.”

You eyed him in silence until Riki sighed, “Well, I don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about in the first place. I’m perfectly capable of handling them myself.” 

“I didn’t say anything though?” You innocently blinked your eyes. The god was unamused with your facade. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Technically, you can’t die so.”

“...”

~

The next few days passed in tense silence. Riki was unusually quiet, only answering you with either a nod or a hum. He was on constant high alert, eyes doing a quick scan of his surroundings as he stood close to you, shoulders tensed. As much as you appreciate him looking out for you, it was starting to get to you. You no longer had the freedom to wander around on your own. He insisted on you informing him about your whereabouts and to always update him if you were moving to another location. 

Whether it was a stroll along the beach or simply sitting at the backyard, his shadow never left yours. His gaze followed every movement, his steps always just a fraction behind yours. At first, you tried to ignore it. You told yourself it was his way of ensuring your safety. But as the days passed, the constant presence began to gnaw at you. It reminded you of your life in the village—how your freedom had been stripped away the moment they decided to send you as an offering. You were tired of feeling like a fragile thing to be protected, like a prisoner wrapped in silken chains.

Today was your final straw. 

You whirled around abruptly, cutting Riki off mid-step as he trailed behind you. The frustration you had been bottling up finally spilled over. 

“Why do you keep following me?” you snapped, your voice sharper than intended. “Everywhere I go, you’re there, watching, hovering like I’m some hopeless child. I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m being watched!” 

Riki blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden outburst. His usual calm demeanor flickered, and for a moment, there was a flash of something deeper in his dark eyes—something like worry, or maybe guilt. But then, just as quickly, he composed himself, his expression hardening.

“I’m doing it to keep you safe,” he said evenly, though there was a quiet intensity in his tone. “The minor gods… they’re always watching. If I’m not around, they’ll try to get to you.”

You clenched your fists, frustration boiling over. “Do you really think I’m that weak? That I can’t take care of myself? I’m not some fragile thing, Riki. I don’t need you—or anyone—constantly looking over my shoulder!”

His jaw tightened, and for the first time, there was a hint of anger in his voice when he responded. “You don’t understand,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes darkening like the very shadows he commanded. “They want you. Not for who you are, but for what you represent. And I refuse to let them have you.”

You went silent, watching him and the god took this to continue by taking a step closer. “I’m not trying to take your freedom. I just don’t want to lose you. Please, trust me.” 

The vulnerability in his voice made something in you ache and you could not find it in yourself to be mad at him. Not when he had given you a new life from scratch. Not when he had treated you as an equal. You took a shaky breath, your anger softening but not entirely gone. “Fine,” you whispered. “Protect me if you must, but just don’t cage me.” 

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The wind whispered through the trees, and the shadows danced around you, swirling in the space between frustration and understanding. Finally, Riki let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

“I’ll try,” he said, and though his voice was quiet, it carried the weight of a promise. “But don’t expect me to stop caring.”

~ 

A few days had passed since your confrontation with Riki, and the uneasy truce you had reached left the air heavy with unspoken tension. He had kept his distance—mostly—but you still felt his presence lingering in the shadows, watching from afar. You told yourself you were relieved to have a bit of space, but deep down, the quiet was unsettling.

That morning, the world felt different.

You woke abruptly, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. The apartment was eerily silent, the usual creaks and hums replaced by a stillness that felt unnatural. You sat up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as a chill ran through you. Something was not right. And then, you heard it. A soft, almost inaudible whisper, like the sound of wind through dead leaves. It was not coming from outside. It was inside. 

Your pulse quickened as you climbed out of bed, your bare feet touching the cold floor. The air felt heavy, suffused with a strange, oppressive energy. Shadows pooled unnaturally in the corners of the room, shifting like they were alive. You took a cautious step toward the doorway, and that was when you saw them. 

Figures, barely human in form, their bodies twisted and dark, like shadows given flesh. Their eyes glowed faintly—dull, malevolent orbs that locked onto you with predatory intent. The minor gods. Your breath hitched, and panic surged through your veins. They should not be here. You were supposed to be safe. Riki’s presence had always kept them at bay. But now, without him near, they had come.

“Stay back,” you warned, though your voice trembled. You grabbed the nearest thing—a lamp—clutching it like a lifeline.

One of the figures stepped forward, its voice a hollow echo. “You thought you could escape us?” it hissed, its tone dripping with malice. “The God of Shadows is not here to protect you now.”

Your heart pounded. You backed away slowly, trying to think, trying to find a way out. “I don’t belong to any of you,” you spat, though fear laced your words.

They laughed, the sound a chorus of hollow, empty echoes. “You don’t understand,” another one sneered. “You are more valuable than you know. And now… you’re ours.”

Before you could react, a shadow darted toward you, too fast to dodge. But just as the figure reached out, the room plunged into deeper darkness—a suffocating, cold void that swallowed the light whole. A familiar voice, low and deadly, echoed through the darkness. 

“No, she’s not.” 

Riki. 

The shadows writhed and recoiled as he stepped forward, his form emerging from the darkness like a force of nature. His eyes glowed with an eerie gray light, his expression cold and furious. 

“You’ve made a mistake coming here,” he said, his voice dripping with quiet menace. “And you won’t leave this place alive.” 

With a wave of his hand, the shadows around him surged forward, crashing into the minor gods like a tidal wave. They shrieked in fury and pain, their forms twisting and disintegrating as Riki’s power overwhelmed them. The air grew heavier, darker, as if the shadow themselves were suffocating the light. You stood behind Riki, your heart racing, thinking it was over. The silence that followed their destruction was short-lived. More gods appeared out of nowhere, spawning one after another.

They seeped from the walls, the floor, anywhere that creates a shadow. Minor gods, their twisted forms multiplying, each one more grotesque and menacing than the last. Their eyes glowed with hunger, and their whispers filled the room like a sinister chant. 

“You thought you could protect her?” One sneered, its voice dripping with malice. “You’re just one god, Riki. You can’t fight us all.” 

Riki did not flinch. The glow in his eyes intensified as he stepped forward. The air around him shimmered with power, the darkness bending to his will. “I’ve defeated worse,” he said, voice cold and unyielding. “And I’ll destroy all of you, no matter what.” 

With a sharp gesture, he unleashed a torrent of shadows that moved like a tidal wave, slamming into the advancing gods. They howled as the darkness consumed them, but for every one that fell, another took its place. The battle raged on. The apartment became a battleground, walls cracking under the strain of divine power. Riki moved like a dancer in the dark, graceful yet brutal, every strike precise and devastating. He was relentless, his power unfurling like an endless abyss, swallowing the minor gods whole. But they kept coming, wave after wave, their determination growing more desperate.

“Riki,” you called, panic seeping into your voice as you saw the strain beginning to show. His breath was ragged, sweat glistening on his brow, though his eyes never lost their fire. 

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, though his voice wavered slightly. “Stay close to me.” 

But you could see it—he was reaching his limits and at this rate, he was pushing himself over it. Anyone with eyes could tell it was taking its toll. The room trembled as more shadows collided and then, light pierced through the darkness. Not from outside, but from the god himself. The temperature dropped, frost curling along the edges of the walls. A faint, otherworldly glow began to pulse from his body—a cold, radiant light like the silvery hue of moonlight. 

“No…” one of them hissed, its voice trembling. “Impossible, you’re not just the God of Shadows. You’re something more.” 

Riki smirked, though his voice was hoarse. “Took you long enough but it’s too late.”

The room exploded with light and darkness entwined. Silvery beams of moonlight cut through the shadows like blades, illuminating the dark corners and banishing the minor gods' forms. Where once his power had been cold and suffocating, it was now an ethereal mix of grace and fury. The light clashed with the darkness, bending both to his will.

With a single, fluid motion, Riki raised his hand, and tendrils of shimmering shadow-laced light spiral outward, crashing into the minor gods. They shrieked, their forms unraveling like fabric torn apart by an unseen wind. One by one, they disintegrated, obliterated by the overwhelming force. You remained rooted to the ground, awestruck by the display of power you had just witnessed. Compared to the few times he showed you his ability, this was on another level. 

Riki turned to you, his eyes still glowing with that silvery light, but it was softer now and less dangerous. He looked almost ethereal, both equally terrifying and beautiful in the aftermath of the battle. You caught the way he staggered, his body swaying with exhaustion, but before he could face-planted to the ground, you caught him, pulling him into your arms. 

“You did it, you saved us,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair. 

He leans against you, his breath ragged but a smile stretched across his face. “Told you I would.”

Tears stung your eyes and you laughed, “You’re unbelievable.”

He chuckled weakly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close despite his exhaustion. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”

You held him tightly, the fear and chaos of the night finally melting away into a profound sense of peace. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

Riki pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “I’ll always protect you,” he promised, his voice tender. “And that’s a promise from me to you.” 

[lostintransist]

Listen all I gotta say is price and Johnny are the type to bear hug you during sex. I mean like fully encompassing your whole body, holding you as close as possible with their strong ass grip while they’re balls deep in you. That’s all, thank you and have a great day :)

Oooh anon I like the way you think. Let me posit a few ideas for you. Because brevity is NOT a skill I possess all my thoughts are below the fold.

MDNI 18+, Female reader (because it fits the narrative I want to write today)

CW: Pap smears and doctors appointments mentioned, sex (obviously), mentions of lubrication and anatomy lessons (because if I have to read one more 'it's so tight' I am going to start fight club in your comments. If the vagina is 'tight' it isn't aroused! Vaginas are small when not being used for pleasure or producing a human.)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny bear hugs you, but not frequently. The first time it happened he had been hounding you all day for some action. You put him off with a smile and wore your prettiest day dress out for errands. "I can't miss my appointment today Johnny, and if I leave now I can get some shopping done."

He goes with you obviously because he hasn't seen you in weeks because of his job and spending time with you even at an appointment is better than missing you from home.

You didn't mention and he failed to ask what kind of appointment you had. Imgagine his delight shock to see you strip off your dress with absolutely nothing underneath because you have a yearly physical.

Let's not even argue the point that Johnny is horrified to see how a pap smear goes and apologizes the rest of the day that you have to do that as a part of having him as a newer partner. [I hate pap smears so much...Like I want to fist fight god for making them a thing that needs to happen.]

It takes him a couple hours to get over the sick feeling in his stomach. You had been mid conversation when the provider reached up and flipped down the sheet covering your breasts. They pressed and prodded all without either of you acknowleding what was happening. Was that normal? (It absolutely is.)

When you do finally let him convince (Lets not lie you also wanted this all day) you to bed end up riding him as he orgasms. His arms snake out and pull you to his chest, the powerful bands of his muscles holding you tight to his chest as he shudders below you. He is overwhelmed and in awe of the things you have to do to keep your body healthy and how part of those things are his fault.

It does prevent you from coming like you wanted but Johnny, once he can see again, takes care of you before settling you both in a bath.

Captain John Price

This man is so used to being in charge that the first time he sinks home into you he is snaking his arms around you to bear hug you to his chest.

"If you move even a bit I am going to explode inside you like a fourteen year old boy and his first time touching a lover," he growls into your shoulder.

He didn't need to use lube on the regular but after you explained he quickly agreed.

"John you could do hours of foreplay and I would still not produce enough fluid to make this an enjoyable experiance for either of us." You smile uncomfortably as his eyebrows tuck downward in confusion. With a shrug you continue, "My body does all the other normal things."

"Normal things like what?" Ah man, he did it now. Education on bodies that had vaginas would always get you on a rant. "So you know how in media the common thing to say about a vagina when inserting a penis is 'oh it's so tight' because it is supposed to feel good for a man?"

John leans back in his chair, contemplation exchanged for his look of confusion. "Yes, go on."

"Okay. When a penis gets erect it grows in size and shape typically, so does a vagina. An unaroused vagina is only about 2 inches in length but when aroused it grows to on average about 4. The rush of blood down there allows it to become more elastic and accomodate many shapes and sizes."

At John's nod you continue, because you know that this can be an uncomfortable topic but you refused to go to bed with a man who didn't care enough to understand how your body works.

"Typically with arousal the vagina creates a lot of fluid to help with insertion." "Isn't that what precum is about too?" Biting your lip you decide if you are going to ruin his day. "No. What we call precum is a cleaning fluid because pee and baby batter use the same tubing in a penis."

"Oh." He looks mildy uncomfortable with this information. Well in for a penny in for a pound. "All that to say, I would love to have sex with you but we will need to use lube because my body doesn't produce enough fluid and the fluid you make isn't really what I will need."

John thought about that conversation as he sank home, the plushness of your thighs bracketing his hips. Shoving one arm behind your neck and the other under your back as you lay under him he focuses on breathing.

Lord only knows that an anatomy lesson from you would be what nearly sends him over the edge. When you start twitching under him he holds you tighter, a slight wheeze escaping your chest.

"Dove I am getting older and don't recover like I used to, give me another ten seconds and then I will fuck you like I'm trying to touch your brain."

That delightful little sentence had you clenching around him, but your hips stopped shifting. Damn, he might need to ask his doctor for some little blue pills because one round a night with you might not be enough.

I'm so totally normal about these fictional characters...yep.. totally normal.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Actually a pretty fab line up right now

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

NOV 2024 Week 5

Ongoing Series - Thai

Love Sick 2024 (Sun iQIYI) ep 11 of 15 - This is where the teen awkward comes to grab me by the throat. No other Thai BL does this better than Love Sick (except maybe Make it Right). And it’s always a challenge to watch because Phun is so ready to come out and Noh is so not. I love what cramming 3 eps into one, (and better side BL couples), did for the tension and pacing in this particular part of  this story. The new version really is excellent. I'm chronicling my experience with 2024 as compared to 2014 here. 

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - They are so awkward and I love them so much for it. They are terrible at faking romance, yet Fah want’s Rak so bad. This is moving so slowly but that’s part of it’s charm. i’m getting Oxygen vibes from this. Or perhaps it’s is more just I feel the way I felt when I was first watching Oxygen. Which is to say, I’m totally addicted and I keep re-watching new episodes. 

Spare Me Your Mercy (Thurs iQIYI) ep 1 of 8 - Gah! JJ grew up so pretty. I love these leads. (No one is shocked.) I love the lawful good paired against (we’re not sure yet but possibly) neutral evil. I love our very sus very flirty very gay doctor. A lot happened in this first episode. I’m getting Manner of Death flashbacks but there’s nothing wrong with that. Bring on the chili. 

Incidentally, if you're interested in true crime, here's the IRL version of this story. How a Nuclear Lab Helped Catch a Serial Killer from the Science Vs podcast.

Jack & Joker (Mon IQIYI) ep 10-12 end - I got the go ahead on a safe ending, and thus I watched the last 3 eps all as one. I love how defiantly verse these two were. I also really enjoyed the final episode. I do like a finale that ends on a bang (yes, both kinds). 

Final thoughts

I enjoyed this show a lot. A caper BL starring two of Thailand's best and focusing on class struggles, corruption, and poverty, was always gonna appeal to me. But I’m not sure, ultimately, whether I liked it because it was good in it’s own right, or because YinWar were so good in it. I do wish it had been a little more Leverage and little less chaos, Dr Evils, and "watch War cry." It was a great vehicle for YinWar, and for them to prove that BL can defy its own tropes. To that end, this goes comfortably into the Manner of Death category more than anything else I’ve encountered before or since (although slightly less unhinged). It's good, but it loses the plot, the side couples, and it's own mind a couple of time, and YinWar were definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Thus I feel an 8/10 is fair, especially considering I'm unlikely to rewatch.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 2 of 12 - Dunk is illegally pretty in this show. I gotta say I covet his skin care routine. (I love YinWar as much as the next person, but THIS boy should be the spokes-BL-rep for Laneige.)

Manwhile..... FirstKhao might be GMMTV’s best flirters. It’s a pleasure to watch them just inhabit these characters and bounce off each other. I do keep saying “what tf are they doing?!“ with this show. In this instance, it was the dancing in the bowling alley. What is going on? is it meant to be a Pulp Fiction reference?

Also this gd soundtrack is bonkers. I *can’t!* with the 70s orgy porn music and the very bad not quite metal intro music. And then, I remember, brain must be turned off! (That’s really hard for me OK?)

All that said, both the sauna and the jerk-off scenes were much appreciated. It’s nice to see this kind of visceral physical attraction depicted in a BL, we get it so rarely.  

On a side note, I entirely support Thailand’s one country agenda to put all the cute boys in crop tops. Keep it up. And up. And up. 

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 9 of 16 - I just don’t get the (new) main couple. They don’t work for me. I like the surprise gamer boys side crumbs though. They are v cute.

Side quest: Genius move anytime Hill comes on screen to basically have Pond make love to the camera. He v good at it. Break everyone’s fourth wall, baby. Take no prisoners. 

Caged Again (Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 10 - That exchange! “Are you worried about me” (attempted flirtation) vrs Junior’s response “yes I am.” Just utter frankness. It’s very sweet. All in all this show is very sweet. Somewhat incomprehensible world building, but sweet. And the head lift into the lap was next level adorable. Sun’s shy smile is everything. 

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT?) ep 5 of 24 - This show is very silly. I love the sides so much I can’t EVEN. And I think it was a big mistake putting Tay into this show. Never let an OG out of the bottle like that. He gets all our attention because we thing he’s granting all our wishes. By which I mean, all I could think the whole time he was on screen was WHY IS HE SO FINE?

I’m not joking, I had to watch his scenes 3x because I kept getting distracted and losing the plot. Not that there is much plot to lose. Just Tay’s mouth. I’ll stop now, but seriously tho LOOK AT HIM!!! 

Every You Every Me (Mon Gaga) ep 8 end - Honestly I’d like to see this pair handed something much more meaty. Like a Japanese adaptation? Tokyo in April is… for example. I think they do a great job with something like that.

Conclusion

This was supposed to be a linked series about reincarnated soulmates, but ended up being more like a Y-Destiny grab bag BL with no rebirth through line, just the same acting pair. The leads were excellent. And I must praise this show for representing things I always want in my BL (and rarely get), switch, verse, communication, and safe sex. It’s just that this format with the same actors but no unifying theme (despite the pitch/packaging) made for a disappointing viewing experience. Some of the installments I enjoyed, and the visuals are on point, but I was ultimately let down by style and execution, if not acting. 6/10 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Our Youth AKA Miseinen: Mijukuna Oretachi wa Bukiyo ni Shinkochu (Japan Tues Gaga) ep 4 of 11 - “I won’t fall in love with you” is an easy promise to make if you’ve already fallen. I just love this show SO MUCH. “Infect me just a little.” Holy fuck. This BOY. Also, so much for “not kissing.” This BL is fantastic. And I’m so worried about where it’s going. Japan could very much hurt me with this. I didn’t expect to fall in love so hard.

Man, JBL, when it gets you it really gets you (then it locks you in a basement and gets kinky). We are not safe but we may still enjoy it. I hate this. I love this. What a rush. 

See Your Love (Taiwan Weds Gaga) ep 7 of 13 - i think this show has a “crash into me” trope in every single ep. This ep alone had 3, plus a flash back to the first one. Still, their damn date was so flipping adorbs!!!

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 10 of ? - I couldn’t be less interested in the stuff with the mean girls. And I’m annoyed we spent so much of this episode on them.

Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan (Japan Sat Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - Arashi as the doting bf was cute if sudden, also holy musical montage BLman.  Kai is my favorite character (as was Sky) but I'm still not wild about the blackmail sex start to this relationship. It does seem a little bit more like Kai went after a one night stand, also bit more switchy feeling, which is better...... I guess. But not by much because the chemistry with these two isn't as good as the original. I remain suspicious.

It's airing but......

Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan Tues ????) 11 of 12 eps - My source hasn’t yet uploaded 11. So…… I wait. 

Secret Love (? YT?) 13-?? of 81 eps - I don't know what's going on either.

Blue Canvas of Youthful Days (China Sun Viki) paused at eps 9-10 of 12 - I got the "stop" on this one as it's gone (no surprise) dark. Being China can not be relied upon to HEA. So I'm on pause until I'm told it's safe. If it ends sad/bad I will dnf. But for now I wait......

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai Weds YT) ?? eps - Criminals who meet in prison fall in love. I did find it on YouTube, initially unsubbed, then subs happened by which time I got distracted. The first episode seems to be only six minutes long. It is very pulp. But it is intriguing. For now its to the wayside until someone tells me what it whats to be and if it's headed in a safe direction. Occasionally Thai pulps want to be edgy and it's not a good look on them.

Bad Guy My Boss (Thai Sun Gaga) 10 eps - I DNF'd at ep 7, I couldn't make it. I'm weak. Life is hard enough right now, this show made it harder. It’s not what I want from my entertainment. Ends tomorrow.

Bad to Bed (Taiwan Sat YT) 10 eps - This is a little too low production value even for me + just very very odd. DNF

In Case You Missed it - GMMTV 2025 Line Up

There have been a ton of hot takes already, including mine.

Here are the titles and links to MDL for you (confirmed full BLs only), these are organized in order of the ones I'm anticipating the most at the top.

Dare You to Death - trailer

Boys in Love - trailer

Memoir of Rati - trailer

My Magic Prophecy - trailer

Me and Thee - trailer

A Dog and A Plane - trailer

Cat for Cash - trailer

That Summer - trailer

My Romance Scammer - trailer

Head 2 Head - trailer

Ticket To Heaven - trailer

Burnout Syndrome - trailer

Melody of Secrets - trailer

Only Friends Dream On - trailer

Love You Teacher - trailer

Next Week Looks Like This:

End of year drops:

12/4 0.5D (Japan ????) 10 eps - Sales ace, Sada, has a secret that only his junior, Daiki, knows. He has pretended to have a gf for years, resulting in him being a virgin. But now Sada has fallen in love. Confused, Sada seeks advice from his junior. I sense another queer Cyrano De Bergerac. Info here.

12/6 Be Moon - Falling for my enemy's son (China ????) movie from HBD Studio - Not much on this one just a trailer, looks intriguing...... if it's from/through Taiwan, but if it's all China, I'm wary.

12/13 ThamePo Heart that Skips a Beat (Fri YT) 12eps - A boy band member and his documentarian start a forbidden relationship. I LOVE Est and am delighted to see him at GMMTV. This was my #1 pick for 2024. I've been waiting for a Blinding Lights style idol romance and this looks like it might be it (Korea and Japan have systemically disappointed me). Bring it, boys.

12/14 & 12/21 The Renovation (Thai mini One31) 2 eps - Writer turns his blossoming romance with holiday resort owner into a novel.

12/29 Sangmin Dinneaw (Thai ????) ??eps - trailer Childhood friends (Thai & Korean) reunite after being apart for ten years. As the boys reconnect, their bond matures and feelings of romance begin to develop, in Thai.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

His smile. (Caged Again)

Look at them!

Look, I don't mean to tell you your business, but THIS? This is peak Thai BL. This is it. This is What They Do Best. Sure they dabble with silly kinky crimey-whiney fashizzal, but Thailand's true BL power is right here, in the sweet awkward school-set first love arghhhhh. Yes I said, school. Bite me. (Love Sick... damn it, 10 years later and it still has me in a choke hold.)

Hey all you idiots who thought (or think) there is ever a green flag in any Mame ever, this character if for you. This boy, THIS ONE. This is what a walking talking ACTING green flag energy actually looks like. You wanna date a dude? Find you one like him. Okay, peaches? sheesh

Meanwhile, this, this is not a green flag. This is GMMTV thinking they are being clever by calling out Thai BLs' worst behavior to make a character who has 'slightly less than worst behavior' look better. Sigh. When meta is used for ill gotten gains.

This, on the other hand is meta being cleverly deployed.

And this is language play. P'ABL's favorite.

So endeth this lesson.

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

[moralesluvr]

cooler than ice | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ you spend the day going ice skating with your girlfriend, though you’re not as good as you thought you’d be.

pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader

warnings. some swearing | billie being a tease

author's note. i haven’t written in months and here i am popping out w a billie eilish fic…i love this woman so much im sorry not sorry !! anyways, enjoy !

a wispy breeze of november bites at your exposed arms as you fold them over your chest, sharp enough to sting but comforting, in an odd sort of a way. you seethe and suck in a cloud of cool air, blowing a plume of it out and turning your head to look at your girlfriend, who had her ring-accented fingers dug into her pockets, turning her own head to smile at you.

neither of you speak, but you approach a huge, blue and white themed building with big letters that read “ice rink,” and you start to reach for the door, but receive nothing but a playful slap on the hand from billie. she grabs it and rubs the freshly-assaulted skin, “what did i tell you about touching doors?”

it’s a rhetorical question, and you can’t help but crack a little smile as the door flies open, even more cool air slapping you in the face, but this time— a little more harsh.

you bite your lip and enter the building, walking up to the accumulating line of people. there were mostly couples waiting— some old, some young, and some not even couples at all, just friends with gleaming smiles on their faces or families who snapped group pictures before buying their entry tickets. you smiled at the sight— and billie noticed this, her expression washed to copy yours.

when it was time for you to grab your skates and buy your tickets, billie swiped her card effortlessly and handed you yours first, so you took them and trotted to the nearest bench where you could put the skates on.

you shifted nervously on them when you pulled them snuggly over your feet, tying the laces real tight and finally standing up. each foot felt like it weighed damn near forty pounds— and you felt even more embarrassed when billie offered you a teasing look, “something wrong, baby?”

“no.” you muttered, the lie slipping through your teeth with a grunt laced within it. you huffed and waiting for billie to stand, and as she did so, she gave you a quick kiss on your head.

“afraid you’re gonna go out there and bust your ass?”

a defensive scoff leaves you as billie starts to stand on the ice, effortlessly gliding across the rink and circling back, resting in front of an opening for you to join her, but you’re reluctant. you stare at her for a second— mainly because she looks so pretty. her dark hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and she was clad in an oversized blue sweater and a pair of dark-wash jeans, with, of course— a borderline unnecessary amount of jewelry.

you were captivated by her, and she could tell, so she gave you a teasing smile, “get on the rink, babe.”

“i’m just gonna…take my time.” you murmur, bending down to tighten your laces for the third time, although they were already tight enough.

billie didn’t buy your shit, though. she knew that you were scared, so she reached out a hand for you and as you grabbed it, she yanked you onto the rink, but pressed your body against her warm one. you yelped, earning a couple concerned looks from other skaters, but billie shushed you.

“i’m not gonna let you go baby, i promise.” billie laughed, though it was a little mocking, because she immediately turned you loose and began to skate off, giggling to herself as she looked back, leaving you looking like bambi on ice.

it was borderline pathetic, really, how you were looking on that rink— cold with no jacket in sight, knees wobbling, and ankles giving out, while your girlfriend skated effortlessly, lapping you around the establishment twice.

you pouted when she made her way back over to you.

“look at you,” she says, smirking, “you kinda look like a baby deer. it’s cute, honestly.”

“you’re such an ass.” you mutter, but there’s a heat crawling up your neck that has nothing to do with a change in temperature. embarrassment flooded you— even though you weren’t the best at ice skating, you at least thought you wouldn’t be this bad to where you would stand in the same spot for five minutes. it was hopeless now, so you turned to your girlfriend and frowned, “bils…”

as if reading your mind, she nodded, interlocking her fingers with your own after shedding herself of her coat and placing it around your shoulders, instantly warming you up, “yes, i’ll teach you how to skate.”

“thank you!” you gleam, “i really wanted to do this together. but i’m clearly not as talented as you are.”

billie laughs, “can’t be the best at everything. well, you can’t— but that’s okay, you’ll get used to it.”

you glance at her with soft eyes as she pulls you out onto the icy rink, teaching you how to sway your hips and rock your feet to a solid rhythm to keep you level and moving steady. with her hands on your waist and her chin on your shoulder, you quickly pick up the new skill. she’s so proud of you, and the both of you are so in sync with your movements that you predict hers before she even makes them.

she’s beautiful— her hair now swaying in the cold wind blows past you both as you begin to pick up speed, and although she’s really guiding y’all, you can’t help but feel proud of yourself for getting the hang of it so fast.

“you tired yet?” billie had asked you a couple minutes later, and you nodded truthfully, telling her that your ankles were starting to ache a little bit. so she led you guys off the rink and to a bench, where you rubbed your achilles with swollen, cold fingers.

“this shit is awful.”

“why awful?” your girlfriend inquired as she took her skates off, wiggling her toes through her long fuzzy socks, which made you roll your eyes with a halfhearted laugh.

you shrugged, “i didn’t know it was gonna be this cold.”

“so, actually,” billie started, and you knew she was going to say something smart-assy because that’s always what would preface such a statement, “we’re in a literal ice box, did you think it was gonna be warm in here? i also vividly remember telling your ass to bring a coat, because you know you get cold everywhere you go.”

“i do not!” you protested, but it was short-lived, immediately executed by the look that the blue eyed girl gave you. but winning the argument didn’t even matter to you anymore, you just offered her soft, sweet eyes, relishing in such a beautiful moment with her.

“you’re staring again.” she whispers, though there’s no real sign of a complaint from her, it’s more informative.

“maybe you’re just worth staring at.”

it comes out so natural, your compliment towards her— and you can tell it melted her heart by the way her arms snake around your waist, pulling you in eagerly to pepper kisses all over your cheeks. you squeal into her shirt as she finishes her mission to peck every single little inch of exposed skin on your face before planting a loving kiss on your lips.

“i love you.”

“i love you too.” you murmur as billie eventually pulls you into another slow glide against the rink, the cold air and her warmth intertwining in a way that made your heart swell.

[starlightkun]

⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst ⇢ warnings: blood/injury mentions, a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places ⇢ extra info: this is the second part of a two-part fic, you need to read the first part to know what’s going on! this was released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) ⇢ author’s note: and here’s part two! ⇢ part one

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

The screen of your phone lit up from where it sat on the dashboard of Jungwoo’s spaceship, and you immediately grabbed it. It was Donghyuck, and at this point, you would’ve taken your bestie ‘SPAM LIKELY’ to get you out of here.

“Hey, it’s Hyuck, you got it here?” You asked Jungwoo, already on your feet.

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” Jungwoo confirmed, eyes momentarily leaving the screen to meet yours.

You clambered out of the hatch with haste, taking off into the trees. Hastily sending Donghyuck a text that you’d call him back in a minute, you practically bolted back up the cliffside to get to the road before doing just that.

Hyuck picked up before it could even ring once, not wasting any time, “Hey, how’s our pet alien?”

“He has a name,” you retorted, still out of breath.

“He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that.”

“He probably doesn’t understand how derogatory it could be. His language might not have a direct equivalent for the concept.”

“Yeah, whatever, how is he?”

“Fine. All of his wounds have healed.”

Your friend’s tone immediately shifted. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You insisted.

“Y/N.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.”

And so after explaining your situation to Donghyuck to the best of your ability, you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Oh my God, he’s going to lay his eggs in you,” he gasped.

“Hyuck! Gross!” You hissed, half-ready to hang up right then.

“I’ve seen enough alien movies to know where this is going.”

“Or watched too much weird porn.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke, clearly you’re in crisis, sorry.” His apology sounded sincere.

You sighed, staring down into the trees below you that you knew contained a spaceship and spaceman that weren’t from here, that didn’t belong here. “I mean, he’s still fixing his ship to leave…”

“What if he plans on abducting you and taking you with him?”

“Stop it!” You scolded him again. “Jungwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“You seriously think he’ll just leave his mate behind?”

“You are way too comfortable saying that word.”

“This is not about my nighttime proclivities.”

“If I told him to, yeah, I think he would. He’s been super respectful, all things considered.”

“Okay… whatever…”

You were worried. Jungwoo had continued fixing his ship, but with each passing day, you swore he was looking worse again. He said his wounds had completely healed inside and out, but the pallor of his skin didn’t look right, he was moving slower again, and he didn’t eat as much at meals. You took a risk and took him there during the day today, not wanting to risk drawing out his stay on Earth any longer than necessary.

Just getting him down to the ship today was perilous, as he tripped going down the last of the hillside. A rock had cut his arm, thankfully not very deep, but the sight of the deep blue blood did nothing to calm your anxious mind. He let you take a second to use a first aid kit in the ship on him, but then was right back to business as usual, fixing his ship.

“How’s it coming along?” You asked, hovering over him worriedly as he sat on the floor, working on a panel under the control console.

“It’s almost done,” he informed you quietly.

“Jungwoo, you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it the hydrogen? Or something else that you can’t get on Earth?” You went to press the back of your hand to his forehead. It was sticky with sweat, but simultaneously cold and clammy. “Shit, dude, you feel awful.”

“I’m—I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need to get back to-to Galaria.”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Let’s get you back. You said it’s almost done. What else do you need?”

“One of your friends is a mechanic?”

“Yeah, Yuta. He fixes cars.” You were slightly alarmed that he apparently couldn’t remember which one.

Jungwoo held out a long, thin black tube to you. “Could you ask him if he has something like this? Twice as long?”

“Of course! I'll go right now!” You took the tube from him. “You stay right here. Rest, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against the panel and shutting his eyes.

You ran into Yuta’s auto shop, skidding to a stop and nearly crashing into a bench and toolbox, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. Every head whipped over to look at you, and Yuta pushed himself out from under a truck on the far side of the shop.

“Yuta!” You dashed over to him, ignoring the attempts at conversation from his coworkers as you ran by them.

“Off-limits, assholes!” Yuta yelled back at them before focusing on you again, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Jungwoo, he needs something like this, but double the length.” You held the tube out to him. “Do you have anything like it? I’ll pay for it.”

Yuta inspected it with a furrowed brow, and you dropped your voice even lower as the sounds of the auto shop rose again.

“Please, he’s-he’s really not doing well. I don’t know how much longer he can be here, Yuta. Something about Earth, it’s not good for him. I’m really worried.”

“Yeah, I would be if I were you.” Yuta handed the tube back to you, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him a part just like that two days ago. He said it was the last piece he needed.”

“What?!” Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

“I gave him a new brake hose two days ago. Unless he blew it up again, this isn’t it.”

“I’ve got to go.” You took off towards the door of the garage. “Bye, Yuta! Thanks!”

“See you around!”

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at the brake hose in your hands. You could feel it in the deep rumble of the pavement under your feet as you ran down the shoulder of the highway back towards the ship. You could feel it in your lungs as you sucked in air that smelled oddly smoky. There was no caution in your movements as you took the familiar path down into the trees. Sirens followed behind you from all directions, converging on the same place as you. But you had gotten there before them.

The ship pulsated with an energy you had never seen before, no longer dull dark metal, but thrumming with power, colorful bursts of light jumping from panel to panel. The reactors at the back that you had watched Jungwoo rebuild with his own two hands roared to life.

No friends to grab you and hold you back now. It was only you.

You lunged for the button that you knew would extend the ladder, throwing the hose to the ground so you could have two free hands to scramble up the side of the ship. At the cockpit, you held onto the top rung of the ladder as the ship jerked and lifted off the ground. You desperately hit the other button to open the glass hatch, dropping into the cockpit and pulling the dome shut with you.

Jungwoo was crumpled in a heap on the ground in front of the controls, not even in a seat. Thankfully, he took a small, shallow breath. The ship accelerated, throwing the both of you across the cockpit. You swore as your head impacted with the wall, and Jungwoo grunted as he hit another panel.

“What the hell is your problem, Jungwoo?” You chastised him as you rolled him over. “You tell me you’ve imprinted on me, then send me off on a wild goose chase so that you can leave without saying goodbye? And then you fucking pass out?”

“Y/N?” He mumbled, slowly blinking a couple times as he looked up at you. “That’s… you?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” you scoffed, pulling his head onto your lap as you were truly just relieved to see his eyes open again. “Now come on, don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“Mm… yes… it’ll be nice… I think… to die in your arms.”

“Christ, you’re so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes to not give away how fast your heart was beating, how sweaty your palms were, or that your hands were shaking with nerves. “You’re not going to die. You hear me? It looks like you’ve already put in directions back home, right? To Galaria? Please tell me this thing has autopilot.”

“Yes. Provided… there are no… unexpected emergencies…” He took several uneven, short breaths. “The ship… will take care of it…”

“Awesome. How often are there unexpected emergencies in intergalactic travel?”

Jungwoo was out cold.

You hung your head, letting out a deep sigh. “Cool. Great. Nice one, Y/N. Stuck on a spaceship that you don’t know how to fly. In space. With a half-dead alien. Stellar life choices, as always.”

You had no clue how much time had passed since you’d left Earth. There were no clocks—at least not ones that you could read—in Jungwoo’s ship, and your spaceman stayed knocked out, never coming close to consciousness. You got hungry at some point, but you couldn’t find any food, or least anything that you would risk eating this early. Maybe if it really felt dire. You hadn’t stocked Jungwoo up with supplies yet, you thought you had more time. Was he really planning on leaving like that?

A pleasant dinging came over the speakers of the ship eventually, reminding you of the sound that played over plane intercoms when an announcement was made. A computerized voice said something, but you realized you couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make out a single word or syllable. It must be speaking Galarii. Nothing was flashing red, hopefully it wasn’t anything that required your assistance.

It felt like the ship was slowing down. You held onto Jungwoo’s lifeless body tightly to brace the two of you. He was still warm, and you took a small comfort in that.

With another jerk and cacophonous rattle, the ship touched down. You were pretty sure. The hum of the reactors died down, and it felt like the ship had finally stopped. Jungwoo let out a weak sound of pain in your arms, and you were on your feet.

You slammed your hand against the button to open the hatch with none of the grace that you’d seen Jungwoo use dozens of times. Tugging the transcoder off his neck, you put it on yourself before wedging your shoulder under his, planting your foot on a seat cushion, and heaving upwards with as much force as you could. Either the gravity on Galaria was different, you were having an adrenaline rush, or both, as Jungwoo’s body actually moved with you. You jerked both of you up onto the ladder, yelling in between deep breaths.

“Help!” Shove. “Help us!” Heave. “Help! Somebody!” Push. “Help!”

After the next jump, your head poked out of the cockpit. Immediately, you were met with winds that whipped your hair around and chilled you to the bone. You took as deep of a breath that you could, the frosty air feeling like knives in your lungs, to let out another cry, “Help!”

The lilac sky was barely visible through the snow that flurried around your face, sticking to your skin and hair. Two figures appeared through the snowstorm, approaching the spaceship, and you readjusted your hold on Jungwoo to lean his weight back on you to free up one arm to wave at them fervently.

“Over here!” You screamed. “Help us! Please!”

Jungwoo coughed, blue blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Oh god…” You cupped his cerulean-stained cheek, panic flooding your heart as you saw the two figures stop in their tracks.

Heaving the two of you over the side in the quickest way you knew to get down, you slid down the ship, the fresh snow that had piled up breaking your fall about as well as Donghyuck had before. The impact rattled up your feet and knees, and you swore under your breath as you definitely heard something pop that had never popped before. Wrapping Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders, you started dragging him towards the two figures.

“Hey!” You yelled out at them, glaring against the snow and wind. Tears streamed down your face as the wind battered your eyes, and your teeth were already chattering. “What the hell are you doing? He’s fucking dying! Help him!”

This finally spurred them into moving again, the figures rushing towards you once more. As they got closer, you could see that they were human-like—Galarii, presumably. They were bundled up for the weather, goggles and cloth masks obscuring much of their faces from you, but as they reached to take Jungwoo from you, a sudden fear seized you, and you jerked back from them at the last second, tightening your hold on him.

They must have been able to guess what spooked you, as one lifted up his goggles and pulled down his mask to let you see his face as he addressed you.

“I’m Kun. That’s my aide, Dejun,” he indicated to himself, then to the other Galarii. “I’m Jungwoo’s brother. Please.”

You looked between them for a moment, then nodded. They moved to each take one of his arms and loop it around their shoulders. You stayed close as they trudged through the snowstorm with him, your worried eyes staying on Jungwoo. Your feet were entirely numb, and you didn’t register when one of the caught on something under the snow until you were already catapulting forward face-first. Your hands were tucked under your arms, and you couldn’t get them out fast enough to break your fall. Kun thankfully had faster reflexes than you, and managed to catch you by the arm, leaving you suspended above the snowbank for a perilous moment. He jerked you back until you got your feet under you again, and you mumbled out a thank you that was muted by the winds. Looking over your shoulder, your knees nearly gave out again when you saw the trail of blue drops that Jungwoo was leaving behind.

Kun once again grabbed your arm, and you looked at him inquisitively, coming to a stop as they did. You were in front of a cliffside by the ocean, which was in fact a cotton candy pink, no buildings in sight. The sea spray stung your eyes, made them water up, and you did your best to cover them without entirely obscuring your vision.

Dejun approached the rock wall as Kun took on all of Jungwoo’s weight. You heard a faint groan, and you weren’t sure which of them it came from, but you moved to take over where Dejun had just been. Jungwoo was no longer warm.

Dejun touched his own pendant to part of the stone, and you swore you saw something glow, but that could’ve been the refraction of light off the waves into your pupils, you couldn’t be sure. An opening formed in the cliffside, and Dejun ushered the three of you in. As soon as you stepped in, it didn’t feel like you were underground, or inside a cliff. It just seemed like you were indoors. Sure, it was dim, but pleasantly so, like it was evening. It was also warm, which you were glad for. You readjusted your hold on Jungwoo, pressing your hand against his chest for some stability, the right side of his chest, desperately hoping that maybe you could feel his heartbeat finally. You couldn’t.

Dejun didn’t request to take Jungwoo back from you though his hands hovered around you uncertainly, as if he were about to. You weren’t sure if you would’ve let him this time. Instead, he simply led the way through the sprawling home you had found yourself in. You didn’t pay attention much to your surroundings, only enough to make sure you weren’t going to trip while you carried Jungwoo. Finally, you made it to a bedroom of some kind, and Kun motioned for you to put him down on the bed there.

Kun took off some of his outer layers, letting you see his face again for the first time since he found the two of you at the ship. Dejun reentered the room—you didn’t realize he had left—also no longer in his thick parka and carrying what must be a first aid kit, handing it off to Kun.

“What’s your name?” Kun asked, his eyes focused on the materials in his hands.

At first, you couldn’t talk, your throat too dry from the cold air outside. You desperately swallowed and coughed, then hoarsely said, “Y/N.”

Dejun poured you a glass of something from a jug in the corner, and you looked it over. It looked like water to you, and you remembered that Jungwoo didn’t seem put off by what water looked like on Earth. You took a tentative sip. Tasted like nothing. It soothed your raw throat a little bit, and you drank some more.

“My name’s Y/N,” you reiterated, then faltered as you looked at Jungwoo. “I’m… Jungwoo’s friend. He crashed on Earth, we were helping him get back. But then he started getting like this. You can help him, right?”

Kun gently tilted his brother’s head back and forth, the prevalent frown on his features only deepening. “Dejun, some help?”

The aide came over, and the two of them lifted Jungwoo’s shirt up over his head. You gasped when you saw some bruising on his back and side, presumably from when he hit the wall when you took off from Earth. But the two Galarii didn’t focus on that. Their attention was on his shoulders instead, having a hushed conversation between themselves.

“Is his shoulder okay?” You asked. “Is it broken or something?”

“His joint is fine,” Dejun reassured you.

“Oh, good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, eyes focused on your leg. “You’re bleeding. I think.”

You looked down at your still-numb extremities, registering for the first time that you had apparently been cut by something outside. Bright red dripped down the side of your left leg, and you held back the instinct to touch it in disbelief.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologized, as you noticed a spot on the floor. “Uhm, do you have a band-aid?”

“Follow me, we’ll get it cleaned up and give you some new clothes.”

You looked at Jungwoo anxiously, where Kun was still tending to him. “I’m fine.”

“He’ll still be here, Y/N,” Kun promised. “I’m sure my brother would want us to take care of his friend too.”

Reluctantly, you went with Dejun into an adjoining room. After getting your cut washed out and a bandage applied, he fetched you some warmer clothes.

“Thanks, Dejun.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can I go back?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you some food.”

Stepping back into the room, you saw Kun cleaning up Jungwoo’s face and chest where his blood had begun drying.

“Can I help?” You offered tentatively.

Kun waved you over. “His head keeps lolling around. Can you keep him still?”

“Of course.” You sat on the corner of the bed, gently rearranging Jungwoo to cradle the back of his head with both your hands in your lap. Brushing some of his hair from his face, you took comfort in watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“His iridophores don’t look right.” You stated, able to see the reflective patches on his cheeks and shoulders from this angle. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

Kun nodded. “Yes.”

“They’re… dull.” You kept your hands where they were. The realization did nothing to soothe you. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can it mean?” You asked insistently, eye boring holes into the top of Kun’s head as he was bent over focusing rather intently on one spot. “On Earth, one symptom can mean a lot of things. What can dull iridophores be a symptom of?”

“We won’t know anything until he wakes up,” Kun reiterated, soaking and wringing out the washcloth one final time. His eyes met yours, his own iridophores glinting in the lights. “Please, I don’t want to speculate before then.”

“Fine. Okay,” you relented for now.

The Galarii’s gaze fell to the pendant around your neck. “That’s Jungwoo’s transcoder.”

You looked down at it as well. “Yeah. I figured I needed it more than him right now. You know, considering…”

“Has he explained to you how it works?”

“Telepathy. Which he told me is apparently very scientific to you all, and definitely not witchcraft,” you snorted.

Dejun entered, a plate of food in his hand. Kun nodded towards it for you. “Eat.”

You sighed, pressing your hand to Jungwoo’s cheek once more. He wasn’t ice cold anymore, but still felt clammy to the touch. Maneuvering his head back to the pillow, you moved over to the table where Dejun had set the food for you. It all seemed food-like, and if your attention wasn’t so focused on your spaceman, you were sure you would be much more enthralled by eating alien food right now. But you could barely even taste it as you wolfed down a few bites, then a few more when Kun was still carefully watching you. When he seemed satisfied that you were fed, you pushed the plate away.

“Full,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

Dejun and Kun exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you know when he’ll wake up?” You asked. “Don’t you guys have like, doctors or something? Healers? I don’t know, any sort of healthcare?”

“His iridophores… doctors can’t help with that,” Kun explained, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “We have to see if Jungwoo will pull through on his own.”

“That’s it?!” You spat back, wide-eyed. Maybe your tone was a bit harsh, but you couldn’t believe that they apparently didn’t even need a real doctor to examine him to give a diagnosis like that.

“Y/N—”

“But he’s—He was fine just a few days ago…” You stared at him in disbelief. “We got ice cream…”

“I’ll have Dejun make a room up for you, Y/N,” Kun said, gently patting your shoulder as they moved towards the exit.

“Kun.” You grabbed his arm before he got too far. He turned around to look at you inquisitively. “I’m sorry. He’s your brother, this must be painful for you too. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He offered a melancholy smile, nodding. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, kept up thinking about Jungwoo. Finally, after too much restless tossing and turning, you got out of bed. Wandering down the halls of whatever cave house you were in, you turned your phone on. Of course you didn’t have service inside a cliff in another galaxy. Coming to a stop in some sort of open living space, you sat down onto something that you were going to call a loveseat, which overlooked a small pool of water that seemed to glow on its own. You stared at your zero bars, thought about Jungwoo dying, being on a planet in a galaxy far away from your friends and family, and for possibly the first time in your entire life, felt so lonely you could cry.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, feeling so small and wanting nothing more than someone bigger than you to come in and make everything okay again. You dialed Johnny’s contact on your phone, just to hear the dial tone as the call didn’t connect, then dropped and hung up on its own.

You got the feeling that somebody else was there, and turned around towards the entrance. It was Kun, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He surmised.

“No.” You scooted to one end of the seat, offering up the empty space for him to join you.

“I can alter your device, to communicate with Earth,” he offered, gesturing to your phone, the screen of which was still lit up in your hand.

“You think so?” You asked hopefully.

“Yes. It will keep my mind busy, too.”

You placed it in his waiting palm. “Thank you!”

He looked at the glowing pond in front of the two of you. “Do you have places like this on Earth?”

“Kind of?” You said. “I think? Maybe? Is it some kind of uh, bioluminescence? Some bacteria or something that glow?”

Kun smiled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Cool. Funny, we have pink oceans too. Like, our whole ocean isn’t pink, but there’s small lakes and stuff that are pink like yours.”

“What color are your oceans, then?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Blue, like our sky,” you informed him with a grin. “Or, sometimes a greenish blue.”

“A blue sky…” He muttered, clearly trying to picture that. “I’m sure that fascinated Jungwoo.”

“Hey.” You looked at him inquisitively. “Is it really true that you don’t know who’s older?”

Kun chuckled. “It’s different on Earth, then?”

“Very.”

“Yes, Galarii children aren’t raised being called the older or younger child. Most families have their children very close together, so unless you remember your sibling being born, you typically won’t know which of you is older.”

“And school isn’t organized by age either.”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“An older brother, kind of,” you said fondly. “That’s who I was trying to call.”

Kun furrowed his brow. “He’s ‘kind of’ older, or ‘kind of’ your brother?”

“‘Kind of’ my brother.” You laughed. “Definitely older. We know that on Earth. And even if we didn’t, he remembers me being born, so…”

“Ah, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Friends for my whole life, yeah. He always knows what to do. Which is usually pretty annoying, but this time, I really need that.”

The Galarii with you nodded in understanding. “I don’t know everything, but I will do my best to let you speak with him.”

Kun rose to his feet.

“Kun.” You stopped him from leaving. “When humans are in comas, people say that they can still hear you. Is Jungwoo like that right now?”

“I think it will benefit him for you to spend time with him,” he agreed. “I’ll bring you your communicator once it’s ready. You should try to sleep tonight, Y/N.”

You offered him a smile. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

When you woke up, you couldn’t be sure if it was morning, but it was definitely brighter in the hallway outside your room. You were sure they had the lights set to mimic whatever the rhythm of Galarian days were like.

Jungwoo looked the same as when you left him yesterday, which was both comforting and disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, but he wasn’t getting better. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, wringing your hands over your lap.

Feeling a little silly as you looked around the otherwise empty room, you said quietly, “Uh, hey, Jungwoo…”

He didn’t stir, and you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you contemplated continuing. Eventually, you did. “I don’t… know what to say. My grandpa died when I was seven and when my mom took me to his headstone after, I never knew what I was supposed to say to it. Not that you’re dead, obviously… I-I was kind of relieved when I got older and my mom stopped taking me with her to visit him. I think that’s bad. But it felt like I always had to pretend to be as sad as her, which didn’t feel right to her.”

You readjusted how the covers settled on Jungwoo. “I wish you were awake, so I could ask you what sort of funeral traditions you have on Galaria, or if your grandparents are alive, or about your mom. I guess I could ask Kun that kind of stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same. I-I want to know about you.”

Time passed like that, you having a one-sided conversation with Jungwoo. Dejun sometimes stopped in to bring you meals and check on Jungwoo. After your second meal of the day, Kun entered the room, holding your phone out towards you. It looked the exact same as before, and you went to pocket it.

“It’s fine, Kun, don’t worry about—”

“Try it,” he urged you.

“Wait, you fixed it?” You took it back out, looking down at the screen. It looked normal, except you realized that that now it indicated that you had full bars. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of alien technology to be appended to it, and for the endeavor to take much longer. “That was fast.”

You once again tried to call Johnny, entirely unsure and uncaring of what time it was on Earth. This time, it rang.

“Y/N?!” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fear when he picked up. You gave Kun a thumbs-up and darted from the room to properly take the call.

“Hey, Johnny…” You were already braced for the scolding of a lifetime, certain that he was well aware of where you were. Somehow, he always knew. Who knew how long you have been gone from home at this point.

“Y/N…” He took a deep breath. “Just come home safe.”

“I will, I will!” You promised hurriedly.

“I sprinkled into conversation with your parents your destination bachelorette trip already. So when you get back, you’ve got to figure out which one of your friends is getting married.”

Not if, when.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Put Jungwoo on, I need to talk to him,” he demanded sternly.

Your throat nearly closed up as you thought of the scene you had just left, Jungwoo still passed out, his iridophores fading, untreatable even by Galarii doctors. “I can’t, he’s-he’s really bad. I don’t know what—I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. Deep breaths with me now, alright, kid?” Johnny’s tone immediately softened, and he led you through a few deep breaths over the call. Once he seemed satisfied that you were a little calmer, he continued with the same soothing voice, “He’ll be alright. He’s back where he belongs, where people who know how to treat him can treat him. He’ll be fine.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you shook your head desperately. “They can’t, John. They can’t treat him. He’s—He’ll either get better or he won’t.”

“What?!” He asked incredulously. “He’s not a lame horse that needs to be put down. Who told you that? Put them on the phone.”

“I—” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny sighed again, lowering his voice. “Look. You are stranded God fucking knows where. And as far as I’m concerned, Jungwoo is the only alien there that is going to want to get you home. So he can’t fucking die.”

You shuffled back into the room, thankfully spotting Kun still in there. “Do you have a transcoder?”

“Yes, is there something wrong with yours? I can understand you just fine.”

“No, uhm, Johnny wants to talk to you.” You indicated to your phone.

Kun raised his eyebrows, gesturing to himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with me?”

“Yeah. He’s a… doctor,” you half-fibbed. “He helped take care of Jungwoo when he crashed before. He wants to know how he’s doing. Will it work over the phone? The transcoder?”

Kun gestured for you to wait, then left the room for a moment, returning with a necklace similar to yours around his neck. The pendant was of a similar construction, but a slightly different shape and angles.

You quickly informed Johnny, “Okay, uhm, this is Kun, Jungwoo’s brother.”

The Galarii accepted the phone, and you helped him hold it correctly before he stepped out to take the call like you had. You kept your ears peeled for the worst, hoping Johnny stayed on his best behavior.

“Jungwoo, I hate this,” you kept talking to your spaceman in the meantime. “I hate not being able to do anything for you. I hate just having to wait, feeling useless.”

After some time, you heard footsteps outside the room, and quieted down before Kun reentered, holding your phone out to you.

“So… what did you guys talk about?” You asked hopefully.

“There may be one more thing we can try for Jungwoo,” Kun said, and you immediately got to your feet.

“Well let’s do it!”

He held out a hand to calm you. “It’ll have to wait until nighttime, I’m afraid.”

“What? What is—?”

“In the meantime, Johnny did mention that human bodies don’t naturally make the same painkillers that Galarii do. I apologize for not being aware of that.” Kun bowed his head apologetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“He said you would do that as well, and to ask again. Are you certain you are not in pain? You cut your leg yesterday.”

You sighed, refraining from rolling your eyes at the man who really was just trying to be kind. “Fine. My head hurts a little, and my leg. And sort of everything.”

“Come with me, I can prepare you an injection. Johnny explained proper dosage and administration for humans.”

Reluctantly, you left and followed Kun to another room in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom, and he gestured for you to take a seat at a small desk. Papers were in neat stacks, and you looked around with both interest and eagerness to get this over with so you could get back to Jungwoo.

“Is this your room?” You asked as Kun pulled up a chair and opened a first aid kit of some kind.

“Yes.”

“Is that Jungwoo’s room that you have him in?” You watched him roll up your sleeve to wipe down your arm first. “Does he live with you?”

“When he’s on Galaria, yes.” Kun then brought out a small, clear bottle and syringe that looked remarkably like the ones back on Earth. “His ship is more-so his home.”

“His actual ship, right? The one he took this time was yours.”

The Galarii filled the syringe with a very small amount of medicine. “Yes. He doesn’t spend enough time here to necessitate having his own place.”

“So did you finish your paperwork?”

He nodded to the stacks on the desk next to you. “Does it look like I did?”

You laughed, and he reached for your upper arm. “Just let me know when you’re going to do it. My friend Yuta wanted to be a piercer in high school before he was a mechanic, so I have a lot of practice being stuck.”

“I already did it,” Kun informed you, holding a small piece of gauze to the site.

You looked down in disbelief. “Seriously?” And sure enough, there was an empty syringe on the table too. “Damn, I didn’t feel a thing. You’re good.”

Kun took the gauze off the injection site, a small drop of red blood on it. “You know, has anybody ever said that is a very alarming color?”

“I think that’s the point,” you chuckled. “To get your attention.”

“I see…”

“So what’s the other thing to help Jungwoo?”

“I have some work to get done before it.” He gestured to the papers again with a remorseful look. “How about you sit with him for now? I’ll let you know once we can get started.”

You bit your tongue to not take your frustration at the situation out on your host. “Alright. Thanks, Kun.”

Back in Jungwoo’s room, you froze when you were greeted by two big brown eyes blinking at you from the bed. Jungwoo seemed equally in shock as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at you uncertainly.

“Hey, you’re awake,” you breathed out in relief, feet finally coming unstuck so you could dart over to his bedside.

“Y/N?” He groaned and tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy,” you murmured, urging him back down.

“That’s… really you?”

You offered him a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Yeah. Crazy déjà vu, huh?”

Jungwoo looked down at his own hands. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah, you are. It was uhm… kind of scary for a while there,” you admitted quietly, taking his hand. Putting some pep into your tone, you added, “But I told you, remember? I said you weren’t going to die.”

“I thought I was hallucinating and dying,” he deadpanned.

“When? On the ship? You could’ve been, I don’t know. What did you see?”

“You. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you.”

“Oh. No, I’m real.”

His mouth was set into a hard line as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because your ship’s autopilot worked and didn’t crash us into the ocean,” you teased.

But he didn’t even smile. “What…? Why would you do that?”

The smile dropped from your face as you turned confused. “Because I didn’t want you to die? Why are you… pissed at me? Is that it? You’re pissed?”

All the happiness that was bubbling in your chest had been soured with the unexpectedly hostile reaction you’d received from Jungwoo.

“You’ve never been in space— I—” He took a deep breath, once again trying to push himself up and succeeding this time as you didn’t stop him. You dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him carefully, still concerned with how weak he’d be after not eating or drinking for so long. “What if the ship had crashed? Exploded? What if it flew at speeds unsafe for humans? What if my ship didn’t protect you against radiation deadly to humans because it was built for Galarii? What if Galarii had much longer lifespans than humans and something that was a short trip for me was longer than your entire life? What if we made it here and you couldn’t breathe our air? What if—”

 “None of that happened,” you insisted.

“There were any billions of things that could have gone wrong, that you didn’t know and you—”

“They didn’t,” you reiterated emphatically.

“What if they did? Because of a choice you made for me?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, putting some distance between the two of you as you felt anger start simmering under your skin. “It wasn’t really a choice. It was… I don’t know, I just did it. But it was fine, so just stop, alright?”

“Why did you come with me?” Jungwoo asked knowingly.

“Why did you try to leave me like that?” You shot back.

He suddenly couldn’t look you in the eye. “I was dying, I had to get back home.”

“I know, I was trying to help you get back home,” you scoffed. “I mean, why did you trick me into going to ask Yuta for a part that you already had, so that you could leave me without saying goodbye? I was ready to let you go, Jungwoo—”

“Because hearing you say that would’ve actually killed me!” His chest heaved after his outburst, his eyes were a watery red as he continued, “And you… that would’ve hurt you. And I couldn’t stick around just to selfishly enjoy another moment of your time if it meant doing that to you. I figured the confusion wouldn’t have been as bad as watching me die.”

The two of you stared at each other for several tense, choking seconds as his words hung in the air. You clenched your jaw, chewing on your next words, ruminating on them, before you swallowed them back down, sharp and bitter.

“I need to take a walk, because if I stay in here, I’m going to say something nasty that I don’t mean,” you spat out instead.

Kun found you by the bioluminescent pond again, a normal-looking water feature by day. You were crouched by the water’s edge, listlessly watching the water lap at the cold stone floor you were sitting on.

“Jungwoo’s awake,” Kun said, standing just behind and to your right side.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “You heard us fighting, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t hear what was said, only his voice. The only way I could get him to stay in bed was by promising that I would check on you.”

“Jungwoo’s been out for a while, he should get something to eat, and drink—”

“Dejun is getting him food and water now.”

“Good,” you croaked, wiping at a tear that had collected at the corner of your eye. “God damn it…”

 Kun sat down beside you. “You’re more than his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I guess. I don’t know.” You picked at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “He… you know…”

“Imprinted? On you?” The Galarii’s voice betrayed his awe.

“Yeah. I know it’s a big deal, like the big deal for you guys… but I don’t do that, so…”

“It’s been awkward.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Do you have a… partner on your planet?” He asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, it’s not that bad, thankfully,” you sniffled and laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like Jungwoo, or that I can’t see myself, you know… falling in love with him or whatever. It just feels like I’m at Point A and he’s already at Point X waiting for me to catch up. Like there’s this huge gap.”

“He’s not in love with you, if that helps,” Kun informed you.

You stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Ah, exactly what I thought. Jungwoo didn’t explain imprinting very well.” Kun nodded to himself. “It’s not… instant infatuation, or love, or anything like that. You’re aware, in the back of your mind, that theoretically anybody in the universe could be the person you spend the rest of your life with, right? There may be near infinite numbers of people that you could be attracted to? Hypothetically?”

“I haven’t really thought of it like that, but I guess, yeah.” Without Donghyuck here unhelpfully joking about eggs, you found the conversation much easier to process. Or maybe you were just becoming desensitized to the idea, you couldn’t tell.

“Jungwoo doesn’t feel that endlessness anymore. His infinity is just you now. He’s not in love with you, because he doesn’t know you very well, but he knows that the only person he could ever fall in love with for the rest of his life is you.”

“So I’m at Point A and he’s at like, Point G, not Point X.”

“If your analogy is translating correctly, yes.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, mind turning over one part of his explanation. “‘Could.’ You used the word could, unless the transcoder is being liberal with nuance here.”

“Well, yes. I don’t think this is getting muddied in translation. It’s not definite that he’s going to fall in love with you.” He tilted his head. “I think that’s what is making you anxious, right? Feeling as though you have no choice, something has already plotted your life for you?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I think it brings some people peace, doesn’t it? On my planet, a lot of people have a god of some kind that they think has a divine plan for them and their life. That… freaks me the fuck out.” You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, wringing your hands. “I’ve never liked feeling trapped.”

“You could leave the planet. If Jungwoo knew it was your choice to leave him, I don’t think he would follow you. He would let you go,” Kun offered. “We have more ships. I would go with you, personally guarantee your safety.”

“Do Galarii have religion?” You avoided answering his question, the intensity of his gaze, looking up at whatever was creating false light in the cavern, unable to pinpoint its exact origin past the hazy glow above you. “Jungwoo never mentioned any sort of religious figure, or prayed or anything when he was injured… That’s kind of when humans would’ve. Prayed for their God to give them strength.”

He took your conversation shift in stride, “We have enduring superstitions, traditions, but no sort of organized religion, no.”

“So this imprinting, it’s not any sort of divine plan, or divine will? To you all? It just… is?”

“One of the superstitions we do have is that of the finder’s intuition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’ve found something, whether you realize it or not, you found it for a reason.”

“Jungwoo said something kind of like that about imprinting,” you recalled. “He said that humans choose their partners, but Galarii find them.”

“Yes. So for him to have been in that ship in the first place, which was not his, so far from home, and crashed due to circumstances outside of his control, on your planet, only to meet you, and it just happens that he imprints on you…”

“I found him.” You let out a choked laugh, covering your face at the insanity of it all. Of course Jungwoo had no reason to doubt why he had imprinted on you. You practically told him it was meant to be without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry?” Kun obviously had no context as for why you were laughing.

“I found his ship after he crashed and pulled him out of it. I found him,” you were still laughing as you explained, wiping at a stray tear that eked out. You didn’t know if it was from humor or misery at this point. “I literally told him ‘finders keepers’ talking about why he was staying at my apartment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”

“Why was Jungwoo… so bad? When I brought him back?” You still needed some kind of answer. “You made it sound like you weren’t going to be able to help him at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.” You answered immediately. It was the same thing that made you get into his ship when it was taking off. Not imprinting, and not love… yet.

“I thought he was dying of a failed imprint,” Kun answered without hesitation.

“He can die from that?! And you were going to just let me leave?! Not just that, personally escort me out of the galaxy?! He’s your brother!” You shot to your feet, once again in utter disbelief at the conversation you were having.

“I never believed that you wanted to leave,” Kun replied simply. “I understand this is not entirely fair to you. But I do believe that you should understand the gravity of your situation. Again, he seems to be fine now.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I mean—What the hell?! If we were to even like, be together in the future, if we had a fight he could die?! That’s fucking crazy!”

“No,” he reassured you. “The initial phases of an imprint are the rockiest. If it doesn’t take, a Galarii can die.”

“What causes it to… not… take?”

“Emotional turmoil, physical distance from the person they imprinted on, stress, any number of things.”

“But he’s fine now? You said he’s fine now?” You double-checked.

“Yes.”

“So it… took?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Kun looked conflicted as he added, “I have a confession.”

You blinked at him. “…What now?”

“The injection I gave you, it wasn’t just for you,” he admitted. “I of course didn’t want you to be in pain, but for Galarii that have imprinted on non-Galarii, it’s been known for their physiology to sometimes mimic their non-Galarii partners. Johnny described to me how Jungwoo healed while on Earth and reacted differently to substances than he would have on Galaria. More human-like, from my understanding. And when he returned with a human…”

“That made you suspect that he had imprinted on me,” you finished. “But you injected me, not Jungwoo—And Jungwoo hates needles, and always knows where I am, so you thought he would’ve sensed me being in danger in his coma and woken up to protect me? Is that even how this thing works?”

“It’s not exact, what Jungwoo can sense… I doubt if I even injected you now, that he would know. Just, the feeling that something wasn’t right. An instinctual need to check on you.” Kun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears flushing red. “I wasn’t sure if he had told you, and if I was wrong about the imprint, that would’ve been—”

“A horrible situation for all of us to be in, yeah, I understand.” You stared out at the water, thinking about how the one that you were in didn’t seem much better in that moment.

“You two have both been through a lot. I’m sure you’ll come to understand each other.” The Galarii stood up. “I’m going to check on my brother. Take your time, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dejun found you by the water again later in the day. He was carrying a tray of food, meaning that it must be dinnertime already. You hadn’t budged from your spot after your conversation with Kun earlier, thinking way too much about everything.

“Dejun, hey.” You held your chin up with the palm of your hand, still staring out at the water. “Nobody’s looking for me, are they?”

You didn’t specify who would be looking for you.

The aide approached, handing you a plate of food. “Jungwoo asked if you’re alright.”

“I wanted to give him and Kun time alone,” you fibbed. “You know, they’re brothers, it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”

“Kun had state matters to attend to, he took his dinner to his room.”

“Of course, right.” You nodded. “Dejun, can I ask you something? And feel free to tell me if it’s way too personal by Galarii standards.”

He arched an eyebrow curiously, but acquiesced nevertheless. “Sure.”

“Are you… Have you… imprinted on someone?”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, and shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With that, Dejun nodded his head politely and took leave of the room. You could only eat a couple bites of the food before you let out a deep sigh and stood up. You found your way back to Jungwoo’s room easily, knocking at the open doorway hesitantly. He was sitting at the table eating, and you were happy to see that he was well enough to get out of bed.

Jungwoo looked over from his food, sitting up straighter when he saw that it was you. “Y/N.”

“Hey.” You gestured to the table with your full plate of food. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.” He motioned to the chair across from him hurriedly.

You sat down, studying him under the lights as he went back to eating. “You look a lot better. Your iridophores… You look better.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier. I could’ve expressed my concerns in a more… productive way.”

“You just woke up from a coma, it’s understandable you weren’t all there,” you replied graciously. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making sure I got back safe,” he said strongly, putting a hand on your forearm. “Kun told me what he knows, and I believe I’d be dead without you. Their sensors recognized that something that wasn’t Galarii had landed on the planet without permission, so they went out to investigate and found us. We landed in a snowstorm, and I was unconscious. If you weren’t with me, not only would they not have found us at all, but I would’ve frozen to death out there.”

“I was why you were dying in the first place, though,” you pointed out. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and you added, “You should have told me, Jungwoo. Back on Earth, you should’ve told me what was going on.”

“You’re right. You kept talking about wanting me to leave with good memories of Earth, I wanted to do the same, leave you with only good memories of me.”

“If you had really left me like that, I would’ve been worried sick for the rest of my life not knowing what happened to you,” you told him harshly. “And now that I know that you apparently were doing that knowing that you were just going to die… I don’t get it. I don’t get you, and I’m really trying to.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not so… careless. I don’t know how I could have ever thought that.”

You took another bite of food, listening to the sounds of both your breaths in the quiet air. “Could you hear me? When you were out? I-I was talking to you, I couldn’t do anything else, and it’s supposed to help humans who are in comas, so…”

“Nothing in particular, at least not that I can remember now.” Jungwoo shook his head, but there was still a pleased smile on his face. “But I don’t doubt that having you nearby helped.”

“So you also don’t know why you woke up?” You asked tepidly. “It wasn’t a… choice somehow?”

“I remember being on the ship on Earth with you, and then I woke up here. Everything in between… I don’t recall.”

“That’s okay.” You both had finished your meals, and you stood up from the table. “I should let you rest some more.”

Jungwoo surprisingly agreed to this, the exhaustion visible in his features. “I wish we could talk more…”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, offering your hand out for him to take. “We can eat breakfast together again.”

He stood up on shaky feet, and you shuffled back over to the bed with him, helping him back under the covers.

“Could you sit with me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested, gently grasping your hand.

“Of course.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes.

“Your hands are even colder on Galaria, I think,” he commented, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well shit, maybe it’s the frozen tundra outside,” you retorted.

“I… don’t mind…” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep well, Jungwoo,” you murmured, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

You ate breakfast with Jungwoo as promised, happy to take part in this one little thing with him again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting with him at the table. He was already there with two places set when you entered.

“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow,” he told you brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, good.” You continued watching him carefully as he ate. “You really feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then do you think… do you think it took?” You pushed some food around on your plate awkwardly. “Would you even know that?”

Jungwoo set his utensil down, easing back in his chair slowly. “Yes, I think it took. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you answered honestly. “The rest… Like I said, I’m trying to understand you, but I just don’t get it.”

“Ask me anything you’d like. Please.”

“I mean, doesn’t it seem unfair? That I’m apparently your soulmate, but you’re not mine?”

“Unfair to who? You or me?”

You faltered. “What?”

“I do understand how this would seem unfair to you—That I know that you’re my soulmate, but you don’t have that certainty about me,” he shook his head sorrowfully. “Yes, that must be terrible.”

“No, I meant unfair to you. You’re stuck with me. You don’t get a choice. But I do, I don’t have that sort of obligation to you,” you pointed out, shifting forward in your chair. “Doesn’t that make you… anxious?”

“Ah, I get it now.” Jungwoo nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he too sat up. “Galarii find, humans pick. I wouldn’t want to take that choice away from you. I… understand now, how important it is to you. So, if you do pick me, that’ll be the happiest day of my life. And every day after that that you wake up and pick me again, will be the new happiest day of my life.”

He held his hand out on the tabletop between the two of you, palm up, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. Not urging, not impatient. You knew he would withdraw it if you turned away.

“You’re really…” You kept looking between him and his hand, keeping your tone curious. “Finding was good enough for you?”

“Good enough?” He chuckled, not derisively but fondly. “It was even better than I imagined.”

“You were half-dead, when I pulled you out of that ship,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Galarii find, humans pick,” you repeated. “Just like you wouldn’t want to take my choice away from me, it would be wrong to force a choice like that onto you… But isn’t inaction just as much of a decision?”

Jungwoo’s smile only grew. “If it is, it’s one that I already made. I hope you can respect that, just as I’ll respect whatever you choose to do.”

You placed your hand atop his, offering him a hesitant smile. “This is me choosing to try this out. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you. Once I’m better I’ll take you home and take you on real dates there. I promise.”

“So Galarii date too? I thought you guys would’ve just gone straight to moving in,” you joked, taking a bite of your food.

“No. I watched movies with Taeyong and Doyoung,” he explained. “Galarii spend quality time with their mate, yes, but the concept of going on ‘dates’ like humans to figure out if you’re compatible… we don’t have anything quite like that.”

“Of course those two took you to some sappy romantic movies,” you snickered. “I don’t need any big romantic public gestures, Jungwoo. Falling out of the sky and almost dying twice was plenty, I swear.”

“Your friends all said something similar.”

“They were giving you tips on how to flirt with me?”

“Yes. It seemed they were aware that I cared for you in some way…”

You burst out laughing, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about them. Forget everything they said, whatever it was.”

“So, carnations aren’t your favorite flower?”

“Hold on, that’s real advice, who told you that?”

“Taeyong.”

“Okay, you can trust whatever Taeyong told you, and probably Doyoung, and maybe Jaehyun,” you counted them off on your fingers. “But forget everything that anybody else told you.”

“I will,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Some of it didn’t seem like very sound advice anyway.”

A couple days later, and Jungwoo was well enough to leave his room finally. The two of you walked around the house arm in arm, chatting about this or that.

“This is the longest I’ve been on Galaria in quite some time,” he mused.

“Kun said that you don’t stay for very long, so you don’t have your own place,” you said. “Don’t you get lonely? Not being around your friends or family?”

“Have you seen either of us have any visitors while you’ve been here? Aside from Dejun?”

“Well, no.”

“We don’t see other Galarii much during snow season,” he explained. “It’s less lonely out doing runs, actually. Interacting with customers, going to markets, busy cities… crash-landing on planets and being pulled from the wreckage by a beautiful human and her friends.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder into his as he smiled down at you. “But seriously, you guys don’t have tunnels connecting your homes or something?”

“Galaria’s crust is very thin compared to other rocky planets. We wouldn’t have the depth to build an elaborate system like that. At least not a very efficient one. Any transport that happens needs to be on the surface.”

“How do you all communicate during snow season then? Do you have phones too?”

“We have similar communication devices, yes.”

“How long is snow season?”

“Approximately half a Galarian year.”

You looked up at him curiously. “So what do you call the other half of the year, then?”

“We have two more seasons: Snowmelt, and newgreen.”

“I think I can guess what happens in each of those…” You joked.

“Do tell.”

“I think the snow melts, and then new green stuff grows.”

He chuckled fondly. “That’s the basics, yes.”

“But do you not have something between newgreen and snow season? Like a-a fall of some kind?” You were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. “We have four seasons for the most part: Spring, everything grows, kind of like newgreen I think; then in summer, it gets hotter but pretty much everything stays alive; then in fall it starts getter colder and things start dying off; then we have winter, and everything is dead or hibernating. Then it’s spring again and everything starts all over.”

Jungwoo listened with interest to your explanation before answering. “Snow season comes very rapidly each year. All the plants freeze at once in the first blizzard. There’s no time for a gradual decay like you’ve described.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you able to predict when the first blizzard is? Do you have like, meteorologists or something?”

“Yes, we’re able to narrow it down rather precisely and prepare.”

“And do most Galarii live alone like Kun?” You asked quietly. “I feel like if I was going to be stuck underground for half the year, unable to visit anybody, I might live with more than just one or two people.”

Jungwoo put a finger over his mouth, then nodded towards his room that the two of you had unwittingly looped back around to. He shut the door behind you, and you sat at the table together before he continued with your conversation, “Do you remember how I said my brother is controversial, not for any policies, but for something in his personal life?”

It felt like a lifetime ago, the first conversation you ever had. You nodded. “Yes.”

“Kun is very dedicated to his job.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He doesn’t take many breaks, or attend social functions that are not required by his job, or, as you’ve pointed out, live with anybody except his aide and me, sometimes. Galarii typically do live in larger social centers during snow season. There’re no tunnels connecting these niches to each other, like I said before, but some can fit up to twenty or thirty people.”

“And you, Kun, and Dejun just have your own house,” you reiterated. “How would that make him so controversial that somebody would want to kill him?”

“Some Galarii see him as isolationist. Refusing to allow opportunities to find things. They believe it reflects poorly on his ability to lead.”

Your face screwed up with confusion. “But if you’re looking to find something, that’s no longer serendipity, that’s choice. That’s action. I thought the whole point was the inaction. Of you finding something when you weren’t looking?”

“Galarii have different interpretations of finder’s intuition, and what it means to ‘find’ something,” he sighed. “It’s a very small minority that see this as a flaw of his, but those that do feel very strongly about it.”

“Strong enough to try to kill him?” You felt like you were losing your mind trying to comprehend this.

“Apparently.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving up. “You know what? Humans have definitely killed for much less; I don’t have any ground to stand on here.”

“That reminds me—I believe I’ll be well enough to take you home in two more days. I’m excited to show you my ship.”

“Really?” You focused him with a doubtful gaze. “I don’t want you pushing yourself for my sake, Jungwoo. I can wait.”

“Thank you. I assure you I’m being sincere. If I’m not at my best, that can pose a hazard to your safety.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder. “While I wish the reasons were a little more concerned for your wellbeing too, I appreciate the honesty.”

Jungwoo gently rested his head against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting me to live,” he said softly. “When you found me on Earth, when you brought me back to Galaria… Thank you.”

You picked your head back up to look at him incredulously. “What? Why would I want anything else? Why would I want you to die?”

“It’s very rare for Galarii to imprint on other species. And those who do, there haven’t been very many that take…”

“They died?”

“Yes.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the material over his lap. “It’s even a common subject of Galarian stories. It’s… tragically romantic, to die so your mate can be happy with whoever they’re really in love with.”

You could feel the deep frown on your face as you listened to this. “But those are just stories. Characters live or die to explore narrative themes and emotions and societal concepts, not to be an example for real life.”

Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tracing a fingertip over one of the lines on your forehead, encouraging you to relax your face again. “That’s why I’m thanking you. You chose a different fate for me than the one I had accepted.”

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Immortality here I come,” he joked, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, then even lower, your jawline, your neck, until he picked up the transcoder from where it rested on your chest. He stared at it in wonder, as if it wasn’t his own piece of technology.

“You don’t mind, right?” You looked down at the pendant as well. “That I took your transcoder? I figured it would be easier for me to wear one than expect everyone else to…”

“No, of course not.” He dropped the jewelry again. “I’m just… very happy that it works for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“They have to be specially made for the Galarii who is going to wear it. Galarii can’t borrow each other’s transcoders.”

“Does it have something to do with the telepathy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve never seen someone be able to wear someone else’s transcoder successfully.”

“Not even Galarii that imprint on each other?” You asked curiously, habitually gracing your own fingertips over the device.

“No, not even then.”

“Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“Maybe,” Jungwoo hummed noncommittally.

Two Galarian days later, and you and Jungwoo were ready to go back to Earth.

“Thank you so much, Kun,” you hugged your host goodbye. “Please stay safe.”

He looked confused as he released you from the hug. “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that?”

You patted his arm. “I mean it.”

“Very well,” he relented with a smile. “Thank you, and the same for you.”

After you and Dejun had exchanged your goodbyes, you saw that Kun and Jungwoo were still embracing, and stood off to the side to wait patiently. Kun seemed to be half-hugging and half-lecturing Jungwoo, cuffing him by the ear to pull him down to his height as he spoke on and on seriously, and Jungwoo nodded or gave a joking whine every so often.

“Kun’s older,” you leaned over to whisper to Dejun.

“You’re guessing?” The aide whispered back.

“You can call it a hunch, yeah.”

Finally, Kun let Jungwoo go, and he straightened up, fixing his clothes with the help of his brother. You and Jungwoo didn’t have very much in terms of luggage to take—Jungwoo kept his personal belongings on his ship, and you came with nothing but your clothes and your phone. Kun and Dejun had given you more appropriate outer layers for the tundra outside, as well as food and supplies for the flight back to Earth, but really your only souvenir was your now extraterrestrially-modified cellphone.

“Ready?” Jungwoo asked you, carrying the small knapsack of supplies on his back.

You pulled your goggles down over your face and gave him the best thumbs-up you could with the thick gloves you had on. “Ready!”

You caught just a glimpse of his eyes crinkling with a smile before he too put his goggles on. Jungwoo clasped your hand as Dejun reached out towards the smooth face of the front door. This time you were able to properly see as he touched his necklace to a small panel that reminded you of the buttons on their spaceships, and a small yellow glow emanated from where they connected. Then, the door slid aside, into the cavern wall. You and Jungwoo stepped out together, the door shutting silently behind you.

Keeping a tight hold to Jungwoo’s hand and arm, you followed him through the snow that had continued building up. There was none actively falling now, giving you a much clearer view of the lilac expanse above. Despite the sameness of the landscape, Jungwoo seemed to know exactly where he was going. You didn’t realize you had arrived anywhere specific until Jungwoo suddenly stopped at one specific hill, brushing aside some snow on a post. You couldn’t read the writing on it, but he seemed satisfied, pulling it down. A small hatch opened in the snow in front of you, and he quickly ushered you over to it. Gesturing for you to wait a moment, he dropped the pack down first, then climbed down after it. From the bottom, he waved you down. You slowly started lowering yourself down as well, Jungwoo waiting right there for you.

Buried under who knows how much snow, your eyes had to acclimate to the darkness again. You had found yourself in the rear of Jungwoo’s ship, and he closed the hatch back up after you before pulling you towards the cockpit at the front. It was a two-seater like the one that he had borrowed from Kun, but you could immediately tell there was a lot more of a personal touch to this one. It was sleeker, the controls looking newer than the other, and you saw the occasional knickknack, notepad, or even piece of clothing strewn about the cockpit. He moved a jacket that had been hanging off the co-pilot seat then gestured to it for you.

You sat down as Jungwoo started preparing the ship for takeoff, still thinking about the mounds of snow atop you. Taking your goggles and mask off like he had, you asked, “What about all the snow?”

“The energy generated from the ship’s reactors melts it by the time we take off,” he explained, continuing to flip switches and push buttons.

“Wow.” You watched him work with a practiced ease and focus.

Finally, he turned back around to you, leaning in close as he dug around in the seat for your seatbelt. He grinned as he buckled it up and tightened it for you. “Can’t forget—Precious cargo.”

You just shook your head and smiled as he laughed and sat in his own seat. After getting himself situated, you two were ready for takeoff.

Jungwoo looked over at you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as you nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go!” He cheered, joyfully slamming his hand down on a button. A countdown started on the monitors and from the speakers, and this time you could understand the announcement. It counted down from 10, and on 1, the reactors changed from a thrum to a full-on blast, and like when you took off from Earth, the ground lurched out from under you again. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when you left Galaria, though, only when the reactors cooled back down to a hum.

You looked back over to Jungwoo expectantly. He unbuckled himself, a bright grin on his face. “We’re out of Galarian space.”

“Cool,” you breathed out, looking around the ship with wide eyes.

The Galarii started unbuckling you as well, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, I’ve got to show you around my ship!”

Maybe it was because you were in a different ship, maybe it was because you were no longer fearing for Jungwoo’s life, you couldn’t be sure, but the trip back to Earth felt a lot shorter than the trip to Galaria. This time, you directed Jungwoo to land on Johnny’s family farm just outside the city. Johnny’s parents were older and no longer kept livestock in one of the barns on the property, making it the perfect place to hide Jungwoo’s ship while it was there.

It was nighttime when you arrived, and Jungwoo effortlessly landed in the far-off field that you had been to many times when visiting Johnny’s grandparents growing up. He maneuvered into the open barn, and you were buzzing with excitement as he powered down the ship.

This time, he let you exit the hatch first, and you looked around eagerly, immediately spotting your two friends by the now-closed doors. You waved to Johnny and Jaehyun, sliding off the side of the ship to land easily on both feet.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around him first.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Johnny breathed out, crushing you to him so tightly the air was knocked from your lungs. “God damn it, kid, don’t do that again. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you coughed out your agreement, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“You’re late, you know that?” He continued scolding you even as he cradled the back of your head. “You said five days, we’ve been waiting here for two more days. I tried to call.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to guess as best I could. The days must be more different than I thought,” you mumbled into his shirt. “My phone died when we were coming back. I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for waiting, John. Thank you.”

When he finally let you go, you were grabbed in a bear hug by Jaehyun. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. We both are.”

“Thanks, Jae,” you let out a sigh of relief at being able to breathe a little better. “I missed you guys.”

“How are you doing, Jungwoo?” Jaehyun turned to the Galarii next. “Johnny said it sounded pretty bad, but you’re looking alright to me.”

Jungwoo nodded, the transcoder now dangling from his neck. “I’m healed now. Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Good to hear, dude.” Jaehyun hugged him too. “Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Jungwoo.” Johnny offered his hand out for Jungwoo to shake. “I’m glad you pulled through. Really.”

“What did you tell your parents?” You asked Johnny nervously. “About the barn?”

“I said one of my friends was going to keep a boat here for a few days. Their knees aren’t good enough to come all the way out here, they won’t come looking.” He then looked at you pointedly, “You should make an appearance, Y/N. While you’re here.”

“Are they up now?”

He looked at his watch. “Yeah. Your parents are actually over right now.”

You grimaced. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So I get back from my destination bachelorette trip that I didn’t bother telling them about and have enough time to help move a boat into storage but not see my parents—Daughter of the year,” you muttered regretfully.

“You did this to yourself, kid.” Johnny patted you on the head.

“I know, I know.”

Entering the Suhs’ living room where your parents were playing a game of cards, you went around to give everyone hellos, your parents first, then Johnny’s. Jungwoo was introduced as a friend of Johnny and Jaehyun’s, and lingered in the darkness by the doorway. Jaehyun had provided him a ballcap to help hide his iridophores in the shadows as much as he could as you tried to keep your conversations with your families short and quaint.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Earlier today—It’s been crazy, sorry I didn’t text you, Mom,” you immediately apologized, kissing her head quickly.

“We picked Y/N up from the airport and got distracted with the boat,” Jaehyun rescued you, flashing a charmingly dimpled smile at the parents. “Our bad, sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Who is getting married?”

“Uhm, Chaeyoung.” You quickly picked a friend that you had met in college to guarantee that your mom didn’t know their parents and therefore wouldn’t try to congratulate anybody behind your back.

She nodded. “Ahh…”

“Whose boat did you say it was, Johnny?” Mr. Suh questioned his son next. “It’s not Yuta’s, is it?”

“Oh, he’s been talking about getting one since high school, hasn’t he?” Johnny’s mom laughed.

“Yep, it’s his,” Johnny nodded along.

Your dad appraised the four of you. “And he couldn’t even help you all?”

“Well, it’s mine too,” Jaehyun once again came in for the save. “We went in halfsies on it after my promotion. He was busy tonight, so I just went ahead and moved it.”

“Jungwoo, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh called out to the Galarii.

“Yes, sir.” He hastily gave a polite bow, fidgeting with the ballcap under the older man’s gaze.

“How did you get roped into their three-ring circus?”

“Yes, it’s better to stay out of the line of fire, especially where our kids are concerned,” your dad chuckled.

“I don’t mind helping, really,” Jungwoo replied, gaze hesitantly skittering over to you. You gave him an encouraging smile.

Johnny’s mom patted your cheek then. “I’m sure our Y/N must be tired after that trip. We’ll let you all go.”

��Thank you, Auntie,” you said appreciatively, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well as you tried to escape with the other guys.

Before you could fully retreat from the room, however, your mom caught your hand. The two mothers exchanged a look as they gestured for you to stoop down to their level. You obliged.

“Keep an eye on that new one, sweetie,” Mrs. Suh rather obviously pointed to Jungwoo even as she whispered.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you this whole time,” your mom added, just as hushed as her friend.

“Goodbye, Auntie.” you purposefully ignored their statements, giving them final hugs and kisses goodbye. “Goodbye, Mom.”

As the four of you walked from the front door to Johnny’s waiting car far down the dirt driveway, Jungwoo sidled up to you.

“May I uh… May I know what that was about?” He asked quietly. “When they pointed at me?”

You giggled, stopping to pull on his shoulder and bring his ear down to you. “They were warning me about you. Said you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Jungwoo chuckled breathily. “An acute observation.”

“They said I should keep an eye on you.”

“That makes me sound dangerous.”

“Well—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out from the end of the drive, standing at his car and spinning his keys around his finger. “Are you done?”

“I’ve got class tomorrow!” Jaehyun added, though the teasing was apparent in his tone.

“Coming!” You chirped back, starting down the driveway again.

Johnny easily navigated back to your apartment, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the melody playing over his speakers. He finally broke the peaceful quiet in the car as your building was approaching.

“So how long are my parents going to be housing the boat?” He asked dryly.

“Oh, uhm,” you and Jungwoo looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. A few days, maybe more. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when he’s going back.”

“Right. Yeah.”

He put the car in park and got out to give you one more hug on the sidewalk in front of your building. Your friend let out a deep breath with you still in his arms. “I’m really glad you’re back, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“I know, John,” you replied, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

Waving to Jaehyun through the window, you and Jungwoo headed inside. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed your rent payment while you were gone, so you still had an apartment to go back to. Looking at the day on your phone, you realized that you’d normally have work tomorrow.

“I wonder if I’ve been fired,” you snickered to yourself, closing your front door behind Jungwoo. He looked back at you, clearly worried, but you waved his concern off. “I hated that job anyway.”

The Galarii peered out past your curtains at the full moon in the sky. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” you admitted. “I think Galarian days are longer or something.”

“Do you remember what you were going to say? In the driveway at Johnny’s parents’ home?”

“Hm? Oh, when you were asking me about what our moms said?” You stretched your arms above your head. “You were confused because they made your interest in me sound dangerous. You almost died because of it, why are you confused about that?”

“I understand how it can be dangerous to me, but that doesn’t happen to you.” He stepped closer to you, cocking his head in confusion.

You sat down on your couch, gesturing for him to sit with you. “To humans, it still can be. Falling in love with the wrong person, exposing yourself like that. It can get you hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes they’re a bad person, or sometimes you’re both good people with the right intentions, but it still goes wrong.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widened. “And you still choose to do this? Over and over?”

“Yes, we do,” you laughed. “What other choice do we have?”

In the late afternoon, after you and Jungwoo had finally woken up and eaten breakfast, you went out for a walk at the seaside. Taking a deep breath in, you reveled in the feeling of the warm rays of sun on your skin again.

“Look at that blue sky,” you beamed up appreciatively. “Actually, I think I’m just happy to see any sky again.”

“Really?” Jungwoo prompted you.

“After being underground for so long? Yeah, being in a wide-open space feels good.” You did a big spin with your arms open. The beach was relatively empty in the middle of the week with most everyone at work. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cool to see where you’re from.”

“I like it here too,” he agreed with a smile as you returned to his side, lacing your fingers with his.

“The guys want to get dinner later, by the way,” you informed him. “They’re also happy you’re not dead.”

“That’s kind of them.”

Up ahead was a familiar area of damaged palm trees and brush, slowly beginning to grow back. You pointed to it with a grin, “Look, it’s where we met.”

Jungwoo squinted against the sun, looking at the foliage with interest. “It is?”

“Yep. Looks a bit different in the daytime, huh? And without a spaceship in it?”

“And I don’t think we ever approached it from this side.”

“And there’s no cops.” You pointed out a nearby firepit as you passed it. “That’s where we were all hanging out when you crashed. We thought you were a shooting star at first. Hyuck told everyone to make a wish.”

“Is that a human custom?”

“Superstition, yeah. You’re supposed to make a wish on a shooting star.”

“What did you wish for?”

You grinned. “If you tell, your wish isn’t going to come true.”

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

“But mine already came true, so there’s no harm in saying, I think.”

Jungwoo looked at you curiously as you continued.

“I wished for something interesting to happen,” you admitted with a knowing smirk. “And the interesting things haven’t stopped since.”

He burst into laughter, halting your leisurely stroll as he clutched his stomach. “S-Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You began listing them off on your fingers, “Alien spaceship crashing right next to us, alien inside spaceship being almost dead, alien declaring I’m his soulmate, alien almost dying again, going to alien’s home planet to keep him from dying, alien getting better and taking me back to Earth. Been pretty interesting.”

He was still laughing, squatting down to try to compose himself.

“So maybe it wasn’t an assassination attempt that made you crash,” you said humorously. “Maybe it was my super powerful wish.”

“But-But I was already crashing when you made that wish,” he pointed out through giggles. “You used my-my crashing spaceship to make your wish.”

“Ah, technicalities.”

Jungwoo stood up on shaky feet, and you offered him your hand to steady him. “I’m starting to think that human choice is a more powerful force than gravity.”

“Really?”

“Or at least your choices.”

You sighed, grabbing his face with two hands to look him in the eye. “Jungwoo, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” He asked, eyes carefully watching your expression.

“Because you just called me a cosmic force and that’s definitely the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it makes me want to kiss you stupid on this public beach.”

His breaths trembled in the space between you. “There’s nobody here.”

“You make some good points.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, stopping before your lips met. “Jungwoo.”

“Hm?” His hands had settled on your waist, where they had been when you were dancing together.

“Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed, his eyes on yours as he hurriedly nodded. “Yes.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, slotting your mouths together finally. Jungwoo let out a hum of delight in the back of his throat, the curl at the corner of his lip apparent. His smile only continued to grow with each passing moment as you made good on your promise, bringing a hand around to cup his cheek.

When you dropped back onto flat feet again, he was standing there with a dazed, content smile on his face. His iridophores were no longer just glinting in the sun, they were fully pulsing with a soft, glowing light from under his skin, like a little heartbeat. You reached a hand up towards his cheek, and he stayed still as you traced over them in fascination. After a few moments, the glow faded away, and they were back to their normal reflective state.

“What was that?” You whispered breathlessly. “Are you okay—”

“I’m great,” he promised, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “They’ll do that sometimes. When I’m really happy.”

“God, okay,” you relaxed. “It was like I really did have a fallen star in my hands.”

“If you say something romantic back, does that mean I get to kiss you stupid?”

“This is a concerning precedent I’ve set, isn’t it?”

“It’d only be fair.” He pouted.

You looked around, finding the beach still vacant of other patrons. “Alright, alright.”

After getting dinner with your friends, you and Jungwoo declined any rides offered, taking the long way back to your apartment.

“The guys were happy to hang out with you again,” you said brightly.

“Yes, it was nice to see them all,” Jungwoo replied.

“I can’t believe Hyuck asked you if you had tentacles though, honestly,” you shook your head. “He needs to keep that between him and incognito mode.”

“I take it he wasn’t being scientifically rigorous?”

You snorted, “No.”

You looked up at the navy blue sky, dotted with so few stars.

“What does the night sky look like on Galaria?” You asked Jungwoo. “I didn’t see it while we were there.”

“Many more stars,” he answered quietly. “I think because we don’t have any permanent light fixtures on our surface.”

“Ah, no light pollution. Must be nice.”

“It is.”

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, cars passing by and the distant sounds of city life continuing around you.

“You said once that you wouldn’t be happy behind a desk now that you knew that aliens existed,” Jungwoo recalled. “Since you’ve been to space and have come back home… Do you feel the same? Do you want to stay here?”

You tilted your head back and forth as you thought, still looking up at the stars. Finally, you answered, “While I was on Galaria, I needed to come home, to make sure everyone knew I was okay. And now that I’ve done that, I keep thinking about what we could’ve done on that trip if you hadn’t been, you know, dying.”

His voice was guarded as he prompted, “So you…”

“So if you’re asking me to come with you, Jungwoo, the answer is yes.” You looked over at him knowingly.

“Oh!” His iridophores were glowing again as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, vibrating with energy. “There’s so many places I can take you! You’ll love Irwon, and the lagoons in Til-Wyn, and I need to check that the Nightbringer’s Festival hasn’t happened yet!”

“Sounds like a date,” you grinned, hugging him back. “Several, actually.”

“And we’ll come back to Earth whenever you want. Say the word, and we’ll come right back for you to stay and see your loved ones for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.” You took his hands as he let you go, catching his eye to tell him sincerely, “And I want to learn Galarii, too. So we can actually communicate, without one of us wearing your transcoder. Even if I speak with a silly human accent because I’m missing a flap or whatever.”

On top of the pulsing iridophores, you saw Jungwoo’s eyes get misty, a tear spilling over on one cheek as he was absolutely beaming down at you.

“Jungwoo are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, wiping at it with your thumb as another fell from his other eye.

“I think I am, yes,” he nodded, feeling at his damp undereyes.

“Tears of joy, I hope?” You continued dabbing at his cheeks as you tried to comfort him through his apparently bewildering situation.

“Do humans do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then yes, that must be it.”

“Oh God, come here.” You pulled him back into your arms. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

He sniffled, then supplemented, “Keep me?”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to cheek, right on his glowing iridophores. “I guess so. Finders keepers, after all.”

⇢ masterlist

TAGLIST

@bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

[blindvogel]

We know very little about the time Rook is stuck in Fade prison. Only that it is weeks and that the team crafts the fake dagger in the meantime. We never really learn what everyone feels or how they find Rook in the end. I think it is called the Lighthouse for a reason. So. Part two. Emmrich.

~~~

Its shape the absence of you (Part 2 of 3)

The memory has burned itself into his mind, plays on repeat every time he closes his eyes. Kamari, right in front of him, just a couple of steps away. Falling forward, reaching for the dagger in Ghilan’nain’s chest, he’d called to her to pull it out. And then she is gone. Just like that. Swept into the greater Fade with not even a trace for him to find. 

Other details are hazy. Davrin bodily dragging him away, down to the beach. The heat of the fire as Elgar'nan’s rage consumed the island. The silence of the Lighthouse.

When Emmrich opens his eyes the morning after there is a heavy weight sitting on his chest. Its shape the absence of her. 

She pins him down, like a butterfly in a box or a flower pressed between pages. 

This weight, it is seeing her face as it twists in anger and pain. Pain he caused her because he is a coward. It is the shake in her voice as she tries to stop him from breaking something beyond repair. Because he is a coward. It is the knowledge that the last memory he has of her will be this because he let his fear win. 

He’d been so afraid of the possibility that she would leave him in some nebulous made-up future, so afraid of causing her pain with his own death should she stay, against all odds. So scared of the what-ifs and the maybes. Of his own feelings. 

And nothing of this matters if he’s lost her. Just like this. Before he could repair what he had broken, before he had the chance to say how truly sorry he is. How much he needs her. How much it scares him if she should not feel the same way. 

Except- she does. Did. He simply had been too scared and too stubborn to believe it until it was almost too late. Is too late now. 

Emmrich is no stranger to loss and grief, to regrets. He has learned to carry them and not break, but he can feel the cracks. The rituals, the habits that he has picked up and created for himself after he joined the Mourn Watch have supported him through the darkest days. They do so now too even if it is a struggle. A clean shave, the proper dress, every piece of jewelry is a piece of stability, of armor against the pain. 

He has days where this works, where he can be a functioning member of the team. Go over news from Minrathous, work on theories and ideas how to stop Elgar’nan without the dagger - how to make one. 

It’s an idea that first sparks hope - trying to find Kamari in the vastness of the Fade by his usual means had yielded nothing, not even the smallest trace of her. But with the dagger they might be able to do something. 

He latches onto that idea, to that work like a lifeline. He spends days working out the details, the composition and crafting methods, and manages to procure the materials. He works on it feverishly, painstakingly. Yet when it is finished it is nothing but a bauble, a mere trinket, and not his salvation. 

Emmrich also has bad days. They all do. Kamari was not the only one that did not make it off the island. They lost Harding, Bellara. Both Taash and Neve take it hard, and he tries to be there for them with an open ear - he is a Watcher, it is part of his duty after all. 

But it is hard on the bad days, when he wakes up with the memory of her on his mind and that weight on his chest, when nothing he does can ease it. 

Then all he can do is sit in her room, one of her journals in his lap. She’d shown them to him once, her thoughts and feelings committed to paper, interspersed with pressed flowers she’d found on her travels with Varric. Emmrich knows there are also her thoughts on him in there - but he is still too much of a coward to read them. The page is marked with a Shroud’s Kiss. 

He also has not informed Myrna or Vorgoth. He knows he must, eventually, as is his duty. But it would be so final to put it to paper, like dousing the last flame of hope he keeps alive in his heart. 

It had been bad enough trying to explain it to Manfred when he had turned to him and simply asked, “Kamari?” 

“She is gone, Manfred. We’ve lost her to the greater Fade and I’m afraid it will not be as easy to bring her back.”

“Alive!”

“Oh I hope so, my boy.”

Then he had sent him out on an errand so Manfred would not see him cry.

It is a bad day when he finally opens the journal to the page with the pressed white flower - her favorite non-color as she had teased him after his little pedantic outburst during their date. White like fresh snow. The moon. Kamari, in an Old Nevarran dialect. The only thing she had ever received from her parents. He’d felt foolish then but she had just waved it away with a laugh, with such grace. 

Now his fingers tremble as he lifts the flower so he can read the words below.

I’m glad Manfred is back. It will make many things so much easier for Emmrich. He doesn’t really want to admit it, perhaps not even to himself, but he’s felt lonely without him. Without his family, his son. He waved it off when I suggested as much but it’s so clear to see. 

With Manfred back it’s going to be easier to convince Emmrich that he is braver than he gives himself credit for. That his fears are not everything, will not consume him. With time, he’ll see what I see. A wonderful, kind, loving man that has faced so many things thrown at him and not wavered in who he is. 

The strength of that conviction, that we must believe in kindness - it’s what gives me hope that we will get through this. It’s what I love about him.

The first tear falls onto the back of his hand and he quickly closes the journal, not wanting to smudge her words and lose this last thing he has of her. The reason he cannot give up hope. 

He cries himself to sleep on her couch that night, the journal pressed tightly to his chest. 

When Emmrich wakes in the early hours of the morning with a pounding headache and his heart heavy, it is to the sight of the Caretaker hovering in front of him. 

“A new path has opened, dweller. The Lighthouse will show the way as it has always done. A beacon to the lost.”

Then they disappear before he can ask any further questions. 

Emmrich stumbles to his feet and out of the room, out into the Library where there is a door that has not been there before. It leads to a spiraling corridor ushering him up and up and up, until he arrives at what must be the very top of the Lighthouse. Gemstone windows encircle the entire room, shimmering in every visible color and some that can only be felt. And in the middle of the room a light, warm and bright and a doorway beyond. 

His senses reach out to it, through it. It is as if he has become a lighthouse, his searching gaze traversing the Fade farther and faster. Somewhere, she is out there somewhere, he can feel it. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there. Eventually there are Neve, Lucanis, Taash at his back. Asking questions, bickering. Still he searches, unwavering, until- 

“There, a light!”

“We’ve got something?!”

Emmrich reaches into, through the doorway. His fingers wrap around a wrist, his other hand finds the upper arm. Then Taash and Lucanis are beside him, reaching and pulling until there is no more resistance. Until she stumbles out of the Fade and into their arms. Whole. Alive.

Then Kamari pulls away, stumbles back with her hands raised, her breathing shallow, her eyes pressed shut. “Please. A moment.” 

Neve is faster. “What’s wrong?”

It takes Kamari a moment to answer. He can see her deliberately drawing breath, using a technique every initiate learns to deal with panic and pain to calm herself. His heart twists. 

“Too many sensations at once. Too bright, too loud, too much. I can feel… everything.” 

Then she opens her eyes and her gaze finds his, and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. What he sees there, a moonrise.

[redroomreflections]

Meet The Family

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Black Reader)

The Loud House Universe

Summary: Natasha meets R's family for the first time

W/c: 7k

"Babe, I have no idea what you are so nervous about." You shook your head. You grabbed onto your luggage as you deboarded the plane. "They're going to love you."

"I don't doubt that," Natasha said as she slipped the sunglasses onto her face. It's not like it's her first time flying economy before. She insisted that the two of you act as normal as a couple. That's what she craved. Normalcy. Someone not into the lights and cameras and the novelty of her being a hero. That is why she was excited to do the typical thing of meeting your family.

"Sure doesn’t seem like it,” you teased, nudging her lightly with your elbow as the two of you made your way through the terminal. Natasha’s calm exterior might fool anyone else, but you caught the subtle way she fiddled with the strap of her carry-on, her usual poise betraying just a hint of unease.

“I’m just... being cautious,” Natasha replied with a smirk, though you could hear the sincerity in her tone. “Your family is important to you. That means they’re important to me.”

Her words warmed your heart even as you rolled your eyes playfully. “That’s sweet, but they’re just regular people, babe. You're not meeting the president. Just eat good food, laugh at my mom's jokes, and pretend we haven't had premarital sex. Which is interesting of a hill to die on for my mom, but..."

Natasha let out a laugh. "I think I can handle that."

"And don't feel intimidated if they ask you many questions about your job," you continued. "I already warned them about keeping the interrogation to a minimum, but my family is the worst when it comes to asking about every little detail."

Natasha stopped, turning towards you with a serious expression. "I am more than prepared for an interrogation. That's my job description."

The two of you continued walking to baggage claim, keeping up with the traffic flow as you talked.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, tilting her head toward you. “Anything I should know before we get there? Any family secrets or rules I should avoid breaking?”

You snorted. “Well, for starters, don’t say you don’t eat pork. My mom might take that as a personal attack on her cooking.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Good to know. What else?”

“Let’s see,” you mused, counting off on your fingers. “Peyton’s going to act like she runs the world because she’s the oldest, Quincy will probably crack a million dad jokes, and Brandon’s baby's mother… well, don’t take it personally if she doesn’t say much. She’s not big on conversation.”

"She's 17, right?" Natasha asked, her eyes widening as you walked through the airport.

"They both are," You nodded. "Everything I've told you about my family before, believe it."

"That's a lot of people," Natasha smiled softly. She'd always been more comfortable being around small groups. The bigger the group, the more uncomfortable she was.

"Yeah," You grinned. "My parents were great at making babies. There's four of us."

"Hmm," Natasha nodded. "Let me guess that's your brother over there with the sign." She gestured with a raise of her chin to the teenaged boy with a toddler in one arm and a sign that read "Welcome back from the Convent."

You burst out laughing as soon as you spotted the sign. "Of course he did," you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. Natasha chuckled beside you, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement.

"That's Brandon for you," you confirmed as you adjusted your bag and walked toward him. "Always a comedian."

Brandon caught sight of you as you approached and broke into a grin. "Hey, sis!" he called out, holding the baby with one arm while waving enthusiastically with the other. The baby, a chubby-cheeked little girl with curly hair, looked unimpressed but content in his hold.

"Really, Brandon?" you said, gesturing to the sign as Natasha raised an eyebrow. "A convent? That’s what you went with?"

"What? It’s funny," he replied, shrugging with a smirk. "Gotta keep you humble."

You rolled your eyes, stepping forward to hug him while Natasha stood back, observing the interaction with quiet interest. "And what about me screams ‘convent,’ exactly?"

"Law school, late nights studying, no time for fun—sounds like a convent to me," Brandon teased before shifting his attention to Natasha. "So, this must be the famous Natasha. Welcome to the family."

"Oh, we're not..." Natasha's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she looked at you. "We're not married or anything."

"Yet," He finished with a smile, reaching out to shake her hand. "The way she talks about you, I'd have thought you had already put a ring on it."

"Brandon, stop," You groaned, your cheeks reddening. Natasha looked at you curiously, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"What? It's true. I mean, the whole family's heard all about your girl—"

"Give me my niece. She's getting fussy," You interrupted before he could embarrass you. You and Natasha had been dating for almost a year and a half. She knows practically everything there is to know. But hearing your family's opinion of her made you nervous.

"Fine," Brandon sighed. "You'll have to catch up on all the drama once we're in the car anyway. It's crazy at home."

"Oh? Why's that?" You asked, reaching out to take the toddler in your arms.

"I'll take the bags," He offered to Natasha. He didn't find offense when she declined. He simply kept the conversation going.

"Mom's pissed about Tori," He said, referring to his current girlfriend. "Her parents still won't let her move back home. Also, Peyton and Ross are having some issues. You didn't hear it from me, though. Oh- I parked over here."

He led the three of you to the car, where he opened the trunk and tossed all of your bags in there.

"Hey, that's Gucci," You warned him. "That bag has my laptop."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be careful." He waved you off. "Can you buckle her in?" He asked.

Buckling Willow into her car seat was a feat. It was a new experience that you were excited to have, but she was a wiggler. You were glad to be an aunt and help her dad. You knew Natasha was watching the interaction with interest. Once everyone was seated, Brandon backed the car onto the road and out of the airport parking lot. You were terrified of his driving.

"Mom, let you drive the car," You thought aloud. "That's a first. Peyton and I had to beg her to let us drive practically."

"Well, I'm the baby. I get special privileges," He bragged. "Miss Natasha, you're quiet back there."

"She's fine," You defended her.

"I'm just listening," She replied.

Brandon glanced at Natasha through the rearview mirror as he navigated the freeway. His curiosity was written on his face, and you braced yourself for whatever line of questioning he was about to launch into.

“So,” he started one hand on the wheel and the other drumming lightly on the console. “What’s it like being an Avenger? Do y’all just fight aliens and save the world all day, or is it mostly paperwork?”

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound surprising you a little. She leaned forward just enough to meet Brandon’s gaze in the mirror. “A lot less glamorous than you’d think. Fighting aliens happens occasionally, but it’s mostly meetings, training, and arguing over whose turn it is to clean the kitchen.”

"Wait, you mean to tell me y'all don't have maids or a team to do that stuff?"

"Not for personal stuff, no," Natasha explained.

"And I'm gonna assume there are no benefits, insurance, or anything like that."

"It's government-funded," Natasha said. "So there's plenty of benefits and health insurance."

"Do you get to fly around in a spaceship, or is that reserved for Captain America and Iron Man?"

"There's a jet," Natasha replied.

"Brandon, can we not?" You asked.

"Oh, come on," he protested. "You didn't warn her about the third degree? Besides, it's not like you've seen any action."

"Not directly," You corrected. "But I've watched the news."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pry. I just want to make sure you're safe. The rest of the fam is going to want to know."

"That's understandable," Natasha said.

"So, what are the chances I'll get a ride in one of those Avengers planes?" He joked.

"Brandon!" You groaned.

"What? Can't blame a guy for dreaming," he laughed. "Okay, I have a real question—do you guys like to hang out? Play cards? Do movie nights? Or is it all business?”

“Depends on the day,” Natasha answered, her voice relaxed. “We’ve had our share of poker nights, but Thor’s terrible at bluffing, and Clint’s too good. Movie nights are better unless someone picks Star Wars. That always ends in arguments about the ‘proper’ order to watch them in.”

“Man, I wish I could’ve been a fly on the wall for some of that,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “You ever bring her to the tower?” he asked, jerking his thumb in your direction.

“A few times,” Natasha said, glancing at you with a small smile. “We mostly hang out at her apartment with Karen. She keeps saying she doesn’t want to ‘cramp my style.’”

“Excuse me for wanting to keep a low profile,” you said, feigning indignation. “Unlike you, Brandon, I’m not trying to be best friends with everyone.”

Brandon shot you a look of mock outrage, pressing one hand against his chest.

"You wound me, sister. Truly."

"I'll do worse than that if you don't focus on the road," You warned him.

"Fine, fine." He raised his hands in surrender.

It would be long if the rest of the day would be like Brandon's questioning.

**********

As Brandon hoisted Willow out of her car seat, she babbled happily, grabbing his hair as he balanced her on his hip. “Alright, ladies, this is where I leave you to fend for yourselves,” he said with a teasing grin, holding open the front door with his foot.

“We can manage,” you shot back with a smirk, lugging your bags from the trunk.

“You sure? I can carry the fancy bag,” Brandon said, eyeing your Gucci luggage again.

“Get inside, Brandon,” you said firmly, laughing despite yourself.

Brandon shrugged and disappeared into the house with Willow, leaving you and Natasha standing by the car.

You turned to Natasha, who was sliding her sunglasses off and tucking them into the neckline of her sweater. “Hey,” you said softly, touching her arm. “You good? I know my family can be  a lot.”

"Baby, I'm fine," Natasha said. "Trust me. This is what I do."

"I can't pretend I don't love it when you call me baby." You sighed.

"Well, then maybe I should use it more often," She said. "Also, relax. It's Thanksgiving."

"You're right," You said. "But still, if it gets overwhelming, just let me know."

Natasha nodded, and the two of you headed into the house. As soon as the door opened, the sounds and smells of Thanksgiving Day swarmed around you. Loud, chattering voices, the clatter of dishes, and the mouthwatering scent of roasting turkey filled the house, and you took a moment to close your eyes and soak it in.

"Is that my daughter, I hear?" Your mother's voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mama, it's me." You called back. You kicked your shoes off and placed them neatly inside the coat closet. Natasha followed suit.

"Are you the famous girlfriend we've heard so much about?" Your mom asked.

"Yes, ma'am. My name is Natasha."

"Come here, girl, and hug me," your mom ordered, appearing from the kitchen and wiping her hands on a dish towel. "My name's Vivian. It's nice to meet you finally."

Natasha initially hugged Vivian, a bit hesitant, but the older woman’s firm and affectionate embrace quickly put her at ease. “It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am,” Natasha said, stepping back with a warm smile. “You have an incredible daughter. I’ve been hearing nothing but great things about you.”

Vivian chuckled, her sharp eyes twinkling as she gave Natasha a once-over. “Well, flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased. “But please, don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old. Vivian or Mama Viv will do just fine.”

“Mama Viv, then,” Natasha said with a slight nod, her voice smooth and respectful.

“Good. Now tell me, Natasha,” Vivian said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “what exactly are your intentions with my baby?”

Your eyes widened as you fumbled for words. “Mama!”

Natasha didn’t miss a beat, though. She clasped her hands together, her expression sincere. “To love her, respect her, and make her proud, ma’am—uh, Mama Viv. And to eat as much of your cooking as you’ll let me,” she added with a playful smirk.

Vivian broke into a laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, she’s good,” she said, glancing at you. “I see why you like her. Alright, Natasha, you’re off to a good start. Come help me in the kitchen, and we’ll see if you can hold your own in there.”

Natasha glanced at you for confirmation, and you gave her a subtle nod. She followed Vivian into the kitchen without hesitation. You followed behind, though, at a slower pace. The next few moments were crucial for first impressions.

"I'll warn you, I'm not a great cook," She said.

"That's alright," Vivian said. "I'll put you to work peeling potatoes or something. Wanna see if you'll pull your weight around here."

You smiled, hearing them chat back and forth. It was a good sign. You were sure your mom would find something Natasha could do.

"You made it," Quincy's voice boomed from behind you. He didn't give you time to react before he pulled you into a bear hug. "And you brought Natasha."

"Of course," You laughed.

"Good." He nodded. "I was worried you were going to bail on us. You never come home anymore."

"Don't start, Quincy," You rolled your eyes. "I was home last Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, after not coming home for a whole year," He said. "Introduce me to your girlfriend." He grinned. He was starstruck.

"She's helping Mom cook," You informed him. You both walked into the kitchen and saw Natasha shaking hands with your sister, Peyton. Brandon was at the counter feeding a few strawberries to Willow as his girlfriend Tori sat beside him on her phone. She seemed completely unaware of the world around her.

"So, you're an Avenger," Peyton said, her tone a little skeptical. "I must admit we didn't believe y/n when she said she was dating you."

"Oh really," Natasha said, quirking an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Well, it's not every day a girl claims she's dating the Black Widow," Peyton pointed out.

"Yeah, but y/n isn't exactly the type to make shit up," Quincy interrupted.

"Language, boy," Vivian warned from her place at the stove.

Natasha chuckled, her eyes flickering to Peyton and then to Vivian, who had her back turned to the stove. "Don’t worry, I’ve heard worse," she said, giving Quincy a playful wink.

"See?" Quincy smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Told ya."

Vivian turned from the stove, placing a wooden spoon on the counter. "Alright, enough with the show, everyone. Peyton, get the table set. Quincy, stop trying to embarrass your sister. And you," she pointed at Natasha, "come help me with this cornbread."

Natasha nodded and stepped over to Vivian, who seemed confident in her kitchen. "What can I do?" Natasha asked, her hands instinctively moving to help without waiting for an answer.

"First things first," Vivian said, pushing a bowl of ingredients toward her, "you’re going to stir this batter, but carefully. I like a nice smooth texture for the cornbread."

Natasha rolled up her sleeves, already comfortable in the space. "I’ve got it. I’ll make it the best cornbread you’ve ever had."

Vivian, clearly pleased, gave her a once-over before speaking again. "You’re making good impressions so far, Natasha. Y/n deserves someone who knows their way around the kitchen." She eyed Natasha for a moment, her smile warm. "You do all your cooking, or is someone else handling that?"

"I do a bit of both," Natasha replied, gently mixing the batter. "But I’m always down for new recipes, especially if they come from someone who knows what they’re doing. I'm not a great cook but a fast learner."

"Well, we'll see how you do here," Vivian said.

"I guess I'll start on the pies," You rolled up your sleeves to wash your hands. A perk of flying in on Thanksgiving day was being late to the party. It was a last-minute decision to come home.

"You better be making a chocolate one," Peyton warned.

"Peyton, hush." Vivian shushed her.

"I can't wait to try it," Brandon said, his attention still on his daughter.

"I think the last thing that kid needs is sugar," Peyton teased, poking the little girl's belly. She squealed, kicking her chubby little legs.

"The sugar is the best part," Brandon retorted, kissing his daughter.

"She's getting big," You observed. "Is she talking yet?"

"No," Brandon said. "Not yet. She'll get there eventually. I can't believe she's a year old. Feels like just yesterday she was born."

"Yeah," You nodded. "Hi, Tori." You said to Brandon's girlfriend.

"Hi," She had the decency to look up from her phone.

You sat at the kitchen table, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you glanced at Tori. Finding someone like her who kept to themselves was rare, but you knew it was essential to show interest. "So, Tori, how's school and everything? I mean, besides, you know, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of this chaotic family," you teased lightly, gesturing around the room.

Tori blinked, clearly surprised by the question, but then she seemed to soften, a hint of relief in her eyes. "Well, school is fine. I've been attending every day. I want to be a nurse," she said, her voice quieter than usual but more animated than you'd seen before. "I’ve always liked the idea of helping people, you know? I’ve been thinking about moving to Louisiana after high school to study. My aunt lives there, and she’s been telling me to come stay with her while I figure things out."

"That’s awesome," you said, genuinely interested. "Is it something you’ve wanted to do for a while?"

"Yeah," she nodded, looking down at her hands briefly. "I’ve always kind of gravitated toward taking care of people. And... I don’t know. Louisiana feels like a place where I could start fresh, away from all the stuff back here." She paused, her eyes flicking briefly to Brandon, who was still sitting with Willow. "I just... I think I could do more there. Maybe even learn some things to help me get my life on track."

You nodded thoughtfully, respecting her quiet resolve. "I think you’ll do great."

Brandon, listening in from across the room, chimed in with a knowing smile. "Yeah, we're still figuring it all out. Tori's been thinking about it, but we're also trying to figure out how to ensure Willow stays close to family." His expression softened as he glanced at his daughter. "I’m not sure how I feel about taking her away from everyone... but Tori’s excited, and it’s a big opportunity for her."

Tori shot Brandon a small, appreciative smile, though she didn’t say anything.

You could tell there was a lot of unspoken tension around it. You nodded in understanding. "It's a big decision. But I know Willow’s lucky to have you both looking out for her."

"That's so sweet," Tori said.

"I only have to put the collard greens on," Vivian began. "Natasha, do you eat pork?"

"Yes," Natasha answered.

"Good," Vivian nodded.

"What else can I do, Mama Viv?" Natasha asked.

"You're gonna make the biscuits," Vivian ordered.

"Yes, ma'am." Natasha nodded.

Things were going well. Your mom putting Natasha to work meant she was interested in her, which was a plus in your book.

As Natasha busied herself with biscuit-making under Vivian’s watchful eye, Peyton followed you into one of the bedrooms upstairs. You knew by her closeness she was about to say something. Peyton rarely held back when it came to her opinions.

“So,” she began, her tone casual but pointed, “is this thing with Natasha serious? Or is she just another quest, like Melinda?”

You paused, barely glancing at her, placing your bags in the closet. Peyton had always had a knack for finding the most loaded questions to ask, and this was no exception. You took a breath, willing yourself to stay composed.

“First of all,” you said calmly, “Natasha is not a ‘thing.’ She’s my girlfriend, Peyton. And yeah, we’re serious. Also, Melinda wasn't a quest. We were in a relationship for two years."

Peyton shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I’m just saying. You’ve always had a type, you know? Strong, intense, probably a little emotionally unavailable,” she added with a smirk. “And we all know how that turned out last time.”

You shot her a warning look. “Wow, Peyton. Thank you so much for your insight into my love life. Maybe next time, you can try delivering it without the shade.”

“What? I’m just asking the questions everyone else is thinking,” she said, raising her hands defensively. “I mean, you’ve got a history. Don’t you think it’s fair to wonder how long this one will last?”

"Are you going to start? Dinner is less than three hours away," You sighed. "I came to be with family. You didn't even hug me when I came in the door."

"Because you've been here ten minutes," Peyton argued. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything, y/n. I'm just curious. It's not like we see or talk to you very much."

"Well, I've been busy," You retorted.

"You could've called more," Peyton insisted. "The girls miss you."

"I'm sorry," You shook your head. "Law school has been intense."

Peyton’s eyes flicked to the Gucci bag you’d set neatly by the door, her expression shifting into something slightly amused but undeniably pointed. “That’s a nice bag you’ve got there,” she remarked, her tone light but laced with something else. “Designer, right?”

You bristled, sensing where this was going. “Yeah, it’s a gift,” you replied curtly, refusing to elaborate. You’d learned that giving Peyton more information was like throwing fuel on a fire.

“Must be nice,” she said, her voice slightly more severe. “Meanwhile, Mom’s been stressing over the laundromat. She doesn’t say it outright, but I know things have been tight lately.”

You froze, your jaw tightening. “Peyton—”

“She’s paying your tuition,” Peyton continued, folding her arms. “So, I just think, you know, maybe she deserves to know if you’re spending money on fancy bags.”

“It’s a gift,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “And last I checked, my education was something Mom was proud to support, not some burden she needed you to fight about.”

Peyton shrugged, unfazed by your defensiveness. “I’m not saying it’s a burden. I’m just saying she’s doing a lot. And maybe you could... I don’t know; check in a little more. Be more aware of what’s going on back home.”

“Wow, Peyton. Thanks for the lecture,” you shot back. “I had no idea you were Mom’s financial advisor now.”

“I’m just saying,” Peyton countered. “You’re out there living your life, and we’re holding things down. It wouldn’t hurt to pick up the phone or swing by more often. The girls miss you, Mom misses you, and whether you want to hear it or not, things aren’t easy around here.”

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms. “Look, I get it, okay? I know I’ve been caught up with school and everything else. But you don’t need to guilt-trip me about it. I’m doing the best I can.”

Peyton’s face softened, if only slightly. “I’m not trying to guilt-trip you, y/n. I just... I worry about Mama, and I worry about you too. You’ve got this shiny new life now, and it’s great, but don’t forget where you came from. That’s all I’m saying.”

You shook your head, annoyance and regret swirling in your gut. Part of you wanted to defend yourself, but another part felt like it was too little, too late. Instead, you breathed and tried to let the frustration melt away. Paying your tuition was something your mother did for each of her children. Quincy had gone to get his mechanical engineering degree and became a product engineer. You're still determining exactly what he does, but he earns an excellent salary. Peyton had gone to college and ultimately dropped out after becoming pregnant with the twins in her junior year. Now it was your turn.

You felt that despite how much your mom wanted you to attend law school, the money was tighter than she'd initially let on. It wasn't that she was stingy. Your mom was the most generous person you knew. But she had her pride. You knew you had to pay her back one day.

"Okay, okay," You said, rubbing your temples. "I've been working a lot. I can take out loans if I have to. Just let me talk to Mom. See what she says."

Peyton didn't look entirely convinced. "If you say so."

"Look, it's been a long trip, and I wanted to see everyone and have a good time," You explained. "Are you going to treat me like this the whole time?"

"No," Peyton rolled her eyes. "We can pretend we're normal and get along for one day."

"Good," You said. "Now, can we please just go hang out with everyone? I didn't come from New York to spend the holiday with you lecturing me."

"I love you, little sister," Peyton said as you began to walk past her. "I apologize for coming across that way."

"I know, Peyton," You sighed.

The two of you walked back downstairs, and you returned to the kitchen to see Natasha holding Willow in her arms. You paused in the doorway, your steps slowing as your gaze landed on Natasha. She held Willow close, her movements careful yet natural, like she’d been doing this forever. Willow babbled happily, one tiny hand clutching at Natasha’s necklace and the other reaching up to pat her cheek. Natasha smiled, a soft, genuine curve of her lips that you didn’t get to see often.

It was... endearing. Unexpected but endearing.

Natasha had always struck you as someone who thrived in control, her precision and composure unshakeable. But here she was, rocking a squirmy, giggling baby in her arms with a quiet patience that made your chest ache the best way.

She caught you watching, her green eyes meeting yours over Willow’s head. “Hey,” she said softly, a trace of shyness in her voice. “She’s a natural charmer, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice catching just a bit. “She likes you.”

Natasha chuckled, shifting Willow so the baby rested more securely against her shoulder. “I like her too,” she admitted. “But, full disclosure, I have no idea what I’m doing. I think she’s just being nice to me.”

You smiled, stepping closer. “You’re doing fine,” you said, your tone warm. “Better than fine. She doesn’t let just anyone hold her without pitching a fit.”

Willow reached for Natasha’s face again, her little fingers brushing against her cheek. Natasha didn’t flinch, just gently caught the baby’s hand and kissed her tiny palm. The sight was almost too much—tenderness wrapped up in someone so unrelentingly strong.

“Do you want her ?” Natasha asked, her voice light but filled with a bit of hesitation like maybe she didn’t want to let go just yet.

You shook your head, leaning against the counter. “Nah, you’re doing great. Besides, I think she’s already picked a favorite.”

Natasha gave a soft laugh, the sound low and genuine. “Guess I’ll have to live up to it, then.”

Vivian came in a moment later. "Everything's all ready," She said.

"Mom, did you make mac and cheese?" Peyton asked.

"Yes," Vivian nodded. "Your daughter requested it."

"Thanks, Mama," Peyton said.

Vivian glanced at you and Peyton, her eyes narrowing. "Y'all weren't fighting, were you?"

"No, ma'am," You and Peyton said in unison.

"Don't lie," Vivian scolded.

"We're fine," You insisted.

"We can save the arguing after Thanksgiving dinner," Peyton added.

"Alright," Vivian shrugged. "I'm not going to pretend to understand you two."

Natasha glanced between you and your sister, but you did not indicate that you were bothered by what had happened.

"Twins are back," Ross called from the front door as he entered the house with Deyjah and Diamond. All you heard was the pitter-patter of little feet as they kicked off their shoes and ran toward the kitchen.

"There's the troublemakers," You joked, ruffling their heads.

"You're back," Diamond exclaimed, pulling you into a hug.

"I am," You laughed, squeezing her back.

"Did you bring presents?" Deyjah asked, looking up at you expectantly.

"I didn't," You said. "It's not Christmas just yet. Girls, there's someone I want you to meet. This is my girlfriend, Natasha."

Diamond and Deyjah eyed Natasha curiously, their matching gazes assessing her with an unnerving and impressive sharpness.

"Why's your hair red?" Deyjah asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, I was born with red hair," Natasha explained. "Just like how y/n was born with dark hair."

"I was born first," Diamond announced proudly, puffing out her chest. "But I don't remember."

"Duh, 'cause you were a baby," Deyjah scoffed.

"Girls," Vivian scolded, "don't be rude. Why don't you go wash up for dinner?"

They did as they were told, rushing off to the bathroom.

"They're pretty cute," Natasha began. "How do you tell them apart?" She directed her question to Peyton.

"There are a few subtle differences," Peyton began. "Diamond has slightly better speech than Deyjah. Deyjah always has some sort of bracelet or necklace on. Though if you look closely, Diamond has a tiny mole on the left side of her neck."

Natasha nodded, seeming satisfied. "So, how old are they?"

"Six," Peyton answered.

"Six," Natasha echoed.

"Yep, six going on sixteen," Peyton joked. "They keep me busy most days."

"I can imagine," Natasha chuckled. "They're smart kids."

"Oh yeah," Peyton grinned. "They're smart."

You couldn't help but smile at Natasha's interest in the twins. She seemed genuinely curious and focused solely on Peyton as she talked about the girls. Seeing someone other than your mom and Brandon engaging with her was refreshing.

"This is my husband, Ross," Peyton introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you," Ross shook Natasha's hand. "Big fan."

"He's a fan," Peyton explained. "He loves all that superhero stuff. I'm not really into it, though."

"I can imagine," Natasha smiled. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Ross."

"Yeah, likewise," he replied, clearly starstruck. "How was the flight?"

"It was alright," You answered. "It's good to be back home."

Indeed it was.

******

The dining room was packed, every seat around the table taken, and a few extra chairs were squeezed in to accommodate the crowd. The smell of collard greens, roasted turkey, and freshly baked cornbread filled the air, mingling with the soft strains of gospel music playing from a speaker in the corner. Laughter and chatter echoed through the room as plates and glasses were passed around.

You sat beside Natasha, her hand resting lightly on your knee beneath the table. She looked calm, but you could tell she was soaking everything in—the voices, the warmth, the energy. She wasn’t used to this world, but she fit into it better than you’d expected.

“Alright, y’all, quiet down!” Vivian’s voice rose above the din, commanding attention. The table settled almost instantly, everyone turning toward her.

She stood at the head of the table, a serene yet authoritative presence. “Before we dig in, we’re going to give thanks,” she said, glancing around the room. “Natasha, since this is your first time joining us, I want you to know how happy we are to have you here. Family is everything to us; today, you’re family too.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, and she gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Mama Viv. That means a lot.”

"Now, in our household, we start with a prayer before Thanksgiving dinner," Vivian said. "I understand that you may not want to participate."

"No, ma'am," Natasha said.

"Well, okay then," Vivian said. "Now, let's bow our heads."

"Bow our heads, everybody," Vivian instructed, and the room obeyed. You noticed that even Natasha bowed her head a little, though her eyes remained open. "Dear Lord, thank you for bringing our family together today."

Natasha observed the room as the prayer went on. This was like a culture study for her. Experiencing a different family dynamic was intriguing.

"I want to thank you for the food and the company. And I pray that our family continues to stay safe and healthy. Amen."

Everyone lifted their heads and said, "Amen."

"Thank you, Mama," Peyton spoke up.

"Thank you, Mom," Brandon agreed.

"Yeah, thank you, Mama," Your brother, Quincy, said.

"Thanks, Mom," You nodded. The food began to be passed around, with everyone choosing which dishes they wanted and didn't want.

"I don't think we've ever had a guest that didn't participate in the prayer," Peyton commented. "Natasha, you were born in Russia, right?"

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly my thing," Natasha said. "I was born in Russia."

"It's not mine either," you said, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I think we all have ways of being thankful, and it's not anyone else's place to judge."

Peyton gave a slight shrug. "I was just curious. No harm meant."

"I get it," Natasha replied.

"You're welcome here, whether or not you believe in God," Vivian assured. "We're all a little different. It's what makes us interesting."

Natasha flashed Vivian a small, appreciative smile. "Thank you, Mama Viv. I appreciate that."

As everyone dug into their plates, the conversation shifted to lighter topics. Silverware scraping against plates filled the air, with only snippets of conversation breaking through the hum of family conversation. Your mom, ever the host, ensured no one went without refills, while your siblings kept things lively with playful banter. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha enjoying the food. Some of the menu options were things she hadn't tasted before. It was endearing and a little heartwarming to see her want things.

"So, Natasha," Brandon leaned forward. "I gotta ask—who is the coolest person you've met?"

"Um..." Natasha's expression shifted into something thoughtful. "Well, I've met many interesting people in my life. I wouldn't say anyone was cooler than the other. Maybe the president?"

Brandon frowned. "I was hoping for someone a little more exciting."

"That is exciting," Quincy said.

"What?" Brandon protested.

"She's Black Widow, and you're asking her about who she's met," Quincy replied. "I want to know her stats. I mean, she's a spy. You must do some pretty cool stunts. What's your training regimen like?"

"Oh, come on," You lowered your fork. "Can we just not talk about work right now?"

"It's okay," Natasha smiled, patting your hand.

"I can answer a few questions," She said.

"Oh yeah," Brandon smirked. "How many push-ups can you do?"

"A lot," Natasha shrugged.

"Do you do chin-ups?" Quincy asked.

"Yes," Natasha said.

"I'd like to challenge you to a push-up contest," Quincy wiped his mouth. "You seem tough, but I bet I could take you."

"I could do the same," Brandon said. "We could all have a contest."

"I'm not going to do a push-up contest," Peyton shook her head. "It's Thanksgiving."

"Fine," Quincy shrugged. "Brandon and I can do it."

"I don't think you guys understand what you're challenging her to," You said. You knew firsthand how athletic Natasha was. Her stamina was out of this world both on and off the field.

"She's an Avenger," You said.

"So," Brandon shrugged.

"She's a trained assassin," You explained.

"I'm sure we could hold our own," Quincy countered.

"No, you can't," You shook your head.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brandon put his hands up. "It sounds like you don't want us to take your girlfriend. Afraid she might fall in love with one of us?"

"I'm right here," Tori pinched Brandon. "Behave."

"Sorry, babe," Brandon muttered.

"No, I'm not worried," You rolled your eyes.

Natasha smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned forward slightly. "Yeah, I think you guys should sit this one out," she said, her voice laced with humor but just enough seriousness to get her point across. "No offense, but I’ve been around some pretty intimidating people. I’m not exactly shaking in my boots here."

Quincy feigned a wounded expression. "Ouch. So, we’re not intimidating enough for you?"

"Not in the slightest," Natasha quipped, her smirk widening.

Brandon chuckled, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, fair enough. Guess we’ll stick to arm-wrestling each other and leave the assassin stuff to the pros."

Tori gave Brandon a side-eye but couldn’t help smiling. "Maybe you should worry about behaving before trying to impress Natasha."

You shook your head, unable to keep from laughing. "See? Even Tori knows you two would be hopeless."

Natasha reassured your thigh under the table, leaning in close enough that only you could hear. "I like your family," she murmured softly and sincerely.

You smiled at her, warmth blooming in your chest.

"We like you too," Vivian nodded. “It may be time for these boys to get put in their place.”

"I would like to see it," Peyton muttered.

"After dinner, then," Natasha smiled. "I have one condition if I win."

"What's that?" Quincy asked.

"You guys teach me how to play spades," Natasha suggested.

"Deal," Quincy nodded.

"And if you win, we can take some photos together," Brandon said.

"Fair enough," Natasha said.

"This will be interesting," Vivian commented.

"I know, right," Tori chuckled.

It was settled. Natasha would be challenging your brothers to a push-up contest. She was used to men challenging her to do things. It was in their nature almost.

After the meal, you helped clean up while your siblings gathered in the living room. They were ready for Natasha to kick their asses, and you could barely contain your excitement.

"Willow, you're about to watch your Daddy get beat," You whispered to the toddler.

"Don't count on it," Brandon said. "She won't be so confident when we're finished."

"We'll see," You said, setting the child on the couch.

Ross volunteered to be the referee, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Alright, everyone ready?" he asked, standing over the contestants with exaggerated authority.

Brandon and Quincy dropped to the floor with exaggerated confidence, flexing their arms dramatically to show off. Natasha joined them, calm and focused, her form perfect even before they started.

"Okay," Ross said, his voice booming for no reason. "On my count—one, two, three, go!"

The room filled with exaggerated grunts as your brothers enthusiastically attacked their push-ups, counting out each one loudly. "One, two, three—"

Natasha, meanwhile, moved effortlessly, her breathing even and controlled. You noticed she wasn’t counting out loud, focusing entirely on her form. By the fifteenth push-up, Brandon’s face turned red, and Quincy was already starting to slow down.

“That’s it?” Natasha teased, casually switching to one-handed push-ups without missing a beat.

The room erupted into gasps and laughter. Ross's jaw dropped. "Wait, wait, what?!"

"One hand?" Quincy groaned, struggling to keep his pace. "She’s showing off now."

"Is she even human?" Brandon muttered between labored breaths.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning against the back of the couch. “Don’t worry, Willow,” you told the toddler watching from her perch. “Your daddy’s about to learn a hard lesson.”

Despite their efforts, Natasha’s movements remained smooth and effortless. Not once did her arms so much as tremble. When Brandon and Quincy finally collapsed in a heap, Natasha was still going strong, with a slight smirk as she pushed through another set.

“Thirty-five… thirty-six…” Ross counted, shaking his head in disbelief.

When she finally stopped, Natasha rose gracefully and brushed herself off as if the entire thing had been a warm-up. "Good effort, boys," she said with a smirk, extending her hand to help Brandon.

"You didn’t even break a sweat!" Quincy protested, sprawled on the floor.

"Maybe next time," Natasha quipped, her tone light but undeniably victorious.

Brandon groaned dramatically, glancing at Willow, who was giggling. "Willow, Daddy did his best," he muttered, defeated.

“She’s my new favorite,” Ross declared, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

You walked over to Natasha, shaking your head with an affectionate smile. “Show-off,” you teased.

She leaned in close enough that only you could hear. “You love it.”

She wasn’t wrong.

**********

Later that night, everyone is tucked into their rooms as you help your mom with the dishes. Natasha had taken an early shower to decompress from such a busy day. She wasn't used to big family affairs like this and needed a moment alone. This gave you time to talk with your mom.

As she washed the dishes, you dried them.

"So, what do you think?" You asked as you placed another place in the cabinet. "Do you like her?"

"She's lovely," Vivian nodded. "You seem happy."

"I am," You confirmed.

"Good," Vivian continued washing the dishes.

"She seems to be fitting in well," You said.

"She is," Vivian said. "She's a sweet girl."

"She is," You agreed.

"Are you sleeping with her?"

"Whoa, Mom," You sputtered. She gave you a knowing look, and you sighed. "Why are you asking?"

"I'm your mother," Vivian said. "It's a valid question. Is she a good partner?"

"Yes, she is," You said.

"She doesn't treat you right; I will come and cut her," Vivian threatened.

"She does treat me right," You insisted.

"Then there shouldn't be a problem with my question," Vivian said.

"She does," You repeated.

"Well, I'm glad," Vivian said.

You nodded, continuing the routine of putting the dishes away.

"So, what's next for you two?"

"Next?" You asked, unsure of what she meant.

"Where do you see the relationship going?" Vivian asked.

"Um," You hadn't thought about it much. "I don't know. We're taking it slow. Just enjoying each other's company."

"But do you think it will be a long-term relationship?" Vivian asked.

"I hope so," You said. "I like her and hope the feeling is mutual."

"Well, if you like her and she likes you, I'm sure it will work out," Vivian said. There was a moment of silence. "I see the way she looks at you. The same way your daddy looked at me."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Vivian smiled. "He always had that twinkle in his eye when he talked about me."

You smiled, finishing the last of the dishes.

"I'm happy for you, baby," Vivian said. "You deserve someone who makes you feel special. Someone who puts a smile on your face."

"I'm glad you approve," You nodded. "She's a good person. I know people have their reservations about her past and..."

"People have their reasons for being judgmental," Vivian said. "You know as well as I do that a lot of the time, people are just scared and misguided."

"Yeah," You nodded.

"Besides, your daddy taught me something important."

"What's that?"

"It doesn't matter where a person came from, just who they are," Vivian answered.

"He taught me the same," You replied.

"I know," Vivian kissed your forehead.

You hugged her, feeling a wave of emotions wash over you.

"Mom," You began.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I miss him," You said.

"So do I," Vivian pulled away. "But, we have to carry on without him."

"You know, Peyton told me how things are going at the laundromat," You began. "If my tuition is too much."

"Baby, you're not giving up school because of me," Vivian said. "The laundromat is fine. We just had a bad few months, is all."

"I'm sure we can figure out a way to increase revenue," You suggested.

"Maybe, but not now," Vivian said. "It'll work itself out. I have a little savings if it comes down to it."

"Well, maybe I can talk to the admissions office," You said. "See about a payment plan or loans."

"We'll figure it out," Vivian reassured. "Don't you worry about it?"

"I'm not worried," You insisted.

"You're a horrible liar," Vivian chuckled. "Now, go check on your girlfriend. It's getting late."

You smiled. "Thanks, mom."

"Anytime," Vivian winked.

******

When you returned to your room, Natasha was out of the shower and curled under the covers. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was deep and even, suggesting she was already asleep.

You smiled, careful not to wake her, as you changed into a pair of pajamas and brushed your teeth. As you crawled into bed beside her, she stirred slightly, cracking one eye open.

"Sorry," you whispered, draping an arm across her waist. "Go back to sleep."

"Everything okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, it's fine," you reassured, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Okay," She closed her eyes.

You pressed a kiss to her jaw, snuggling closer. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," She replied. "Thanks for bringing me here."

"Of course," You whispered.

You lay in the darkness for a while, listening to her breathing and enjoying the warmth of her body. Gradually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of her arms.

[bandsofmarv]

What’s Your Favourite Horror Movie Pogue?

Rafe Cameron, consumed by an obsessive love for you, becomes Ghostface, murdering anyone he sees as a threat to his claim on you.

TW- murder, obsessive behaviour.

The Outer Banks was known for its beauty: golden sunsets, endless beaches, and the salty air that whispered promises of freedom. But lately, that promise felt like a lie. The town was gripped with fear, whispers of a masked killer spreading like wildfire. They called him Ghostface, a name plucked from horror movies but now real, haunting your life in ways you couldn’t escape.

What no one knew—what you didn’t know—was that the killer wasn’t some faceless stranger. It was Rafe Cameron.

And his obsession with you was the reason the killings had begun.

The first time you noticed something strange, it had been subtle. Rafe was always intense, his gaze lingering on you a little too long, his presence suffocating in a way that should have made you uncomfortable. But Rafe was also charming, magnetic even. You found yourself drawn to him despite the warnings in your head.

But as the days passed, his intensity deepened. He started showing up unannounced—at your work, outside your house, even at the places you went to clear your mind.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he’d say, flashing that disarming smile. “With everything going on, you can’t be too careful.”

At first, it felt sweet. Protective. But soon, it felt suffocating.

The murders began with strangers—people you didn’t know well enough to connect the dots. A lifeguard at the beach, a couple tourists who had wandered into the wrong part of town. The pattern was erratic at first, but then it started to hit closer to home.

You were with Sarah Cameron when she got the call about her boyfriend, Topper. The cops had found him in the woods, gutted like an animal. Sarah broke down in your arms, sobbing uncontrollably, and you couldn’t help but notice Rafe watching from the corner of the room.

His expression wasn’t one of grief. It was satisfaction.

The night it all came crashing down, you were alone in your house. The power had gone out during a storm, and you were sitting in the living room with a flashlight and your phone, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling settling over you.

That’s when you heard the knock at the door.

It wasn’t loud—just three soft taps, deliberate and slow.

“Who is it?” you called, your voice shaking.

No response.

You grabbed a kitchen knife and crept toward the door, your heart pounding. When you peeked through the peephole, all you saw was darkness.

Then your phone buzzed.

A text from an unknown number: You shouldn’t be alone.

Your blood ran cold.

Before you could react, the window behind you shattered, and a figure in black vaulted into the room. The scream caught in your throat as the figure lunged at you, pinning you to the floor.

The knife clattered from your hand as you struggled, but it was no use. The figure was too strong, too quick.

“Stop fighting,” the distorted voice said, low and mechanical through the voice modulator. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

The masked figure pulled out a knife, holding it to your throat, but he didn’t press down. Instead, he leaned closer, tilting his head as if studying you.

Then, slowly, he removed the mask.

“Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

His eyes were wild, his lips curved into a twisted smile. “I told you I’d protect you,” he said, his voice soft but laced with something dark. “I just needed to get rid of the distractions.”

“Distractions?” you echoed, your mind racing as realization hit.

“Topper. JJ. Sarah. They were all in the way. You couldn’t see it, but I did. They didn’t deserve to be near you.”

Tears streamed down your face as you stared at him in horror. “You killed them? All of them?”

“I did it for you,” he said, his tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

You shook your head, trying to inch away, but he grabbed your wrists, his grip bruising.

The room was suffocating, the walls closing in as Rafe knelt over you, the Ghostface mask discarded at his side. His wild blue eyes locked onto yours, his breath uneven with exhilaration.

“Let me explain,” he said, his voice soft but tinged with madness. “You don’t understand now, but you will.”

You didn’t want to understand. Every instinct told you to fight, to scream, to do something, but his weight pinned you to the floor, and his manic gaze froze you in place.

“It started with Topper,” Rafe said, as if you’d asked for the story. “That guy was such an idiot, thinking he could push you around at parties, making those crude comments. I hated the way he looked at you.”

Your mind flashed to that night at the beach bonfire, when Topper had made some drunk joke about you being “the hottest Pogue.” You’d brushed it off, but Rafe had been furious, storming off without a word.

“I followed him that night,” Rafe continued, his tone calm, like he was recounting a mundane event. “He didn’t even hear me coming. One quick cut across the throat, and he went down like the pathetic little worm he was.”

You gagged, bile rising in your throat, but Rafe didn’t stop.

“And Sarah,” he said, his lips curling into a sneer. “She was always trying to play the big sister, telling me to leave you alone. She didn’t get it. She thought she could warn you, but she didn’t realize how serious I was.”

Tears blurred your vision as you thought of Sarah—her kind smile, the way she’d pulled you aside to warn you about Rafe’s behavior.

“I didn’t want to kill her,” he said, his voice softening, almost regretful. “But she wouldn’t shut up. She was going to ruin everything. So, I took her out by the marsh. She fought hard, you know? Almost made me rethink it. Almost.”

He paused, studying your face as if gauging your reaction. “I made it quick. For her.”

“You’re a monster,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

His eyes darkened, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t say that,” he hissed. “I did this for you. For us. You think I wanted to hurt you? To scare you? I had to. They were all trying to take you away from me.”

“JJ…” you started, your voice trembling.

Rafe grinned, leaning back slightly. “Oh, JJ was fun. He was always so cocky, always acting like he could protect you. I wanted to see him break.”

You remembered the day JJ’s body was found under the pier, the jagged “X” carved into his chest. The image would haunt you forever.

“He begged,” Rafe said, his tone almost giddy now. “He said, ‘Please, don’t do this.’ As if I’d ever listen to him. He didn’t deserve to be near you, Y/N. None of them did.”

“And Kie?” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Rafe’s expression hardened. “Kie was the worst. She thought she was better than everyone, always pretending she was the voice of reason. She was a bad influence on you.”

You felt like you might vomit as he continued.

“She went down easy,” he said with a shrug. “I cornered her after you two said goodbye that night. She didn’t even see it coming. She was so distracted, thinking she could keep you safe. But she didn’t stand a chance.”

Your sobs grew louder, and Rafe’s demeanor shifted. He reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle despite the horrors he was describing.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It’s over now. It’s just us. No one else will ever hurt you, or distract you, or take you away from me.”

“You’re insane,” you spat, your voice shaking with equal parts fear and fury.

Rafe chuckled, leaning closer. “Maybe. But I’m also the only one who truly loves you. Don’t you see that? I did all of this for you.”

You stared into his eyes, the weight of his obsession crashing down on you. There was no reasoning with him, no appealing to his humanity. Rafe Cameron wasn’t just insane—he was utterly and completely lost to his delusion.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You don’t have to fight this. I’ve already won.”

His arrogance was your opening. Summoning every ounce of courage you had left, you drove your knee upward, catching him off-guard. He grunted, the knife slipping from his hand and skidding across the floor.

You didn’t think—you just moved. Scrambling to your feet, you bolted for the door, your heart pounding like a war drum.

“Y/N!” Rafe roared, his voice filled with both fury and disbelief.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood as you sprinted out into the stormy night, rain pelting your face and blurring your vision. The wind howled around you, carrying Rafe’s voice as he shouted your name.

You stumbled into the woods, branches clawing at your skin as you pushed deeper into the darkness. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your lungs burning, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not ever.

Behind you, you could hear him crashing through the underbrush, relentless in his pursuit.

“You can’t run from me!” he called, his voice cutting through the rain like a blade. “You’re mine, Y/N! You’ll always be mine!”

————————————————————————

You didn’t know how long you ran, but eventually, you found yourself near the old marina. The boats swayed violently in the storm, their masts creaking like eerie sentinels. Desperation drove you forward as you searched for a hiding place, somewhere—anywhere—to catch your breath.

You spotted an abandoned boathouse and darted inside, slamming the door behind you. The smell of salt and damp wood filled your nostrils as you collapsed against the wall, your chest heaving.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then came the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps.

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” Rafe’s voice called out, eerily calm now.

Your heart plummeted as you realized he was inside.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle your breathing as you pressed yourself deeper into the shadows.

“I know you’re here,” he said, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. “You think you can hide from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”

He was closer now. Too close.

You glanced around frantically, your eyes landing on a rusted wrench lying on the floor nearby. Gripping it tightly, you prepared yourself. You had no choice.

The moment his shadow appeared in the doorway, you swung. The wrench connected with his shoulder, and he let out a furious snarl, staggering back.

“You really think you can get away from me?” he growled, his eyes blazing with fury.

“I have to try,” you said, your voice shaking but firm.

He lunged, and you ducked, slipping past him and back out into the storm. Your legs screamed in protest, your lungs on fire, but you didn’t stop. Not until you saw the headlights.

A car was coming down the old dirt road, its beams cutting through the darkness like a beacon of hope. You stumbled into the road, waving your arms frantically.

“Help!” you screamed. “Please, help me!”

The car screeched to a halt, and the driver—a local you vaguely recognized—jumped out.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asked, but before you could answer, Rafe emerged from the woods, his face twisted in rage.

“Don’t listen to her!” Rafe shouted, his tone switching to something almost pleading. “She’s confused—she doesn’t know what she’s saying!”

The driver hesitated, looking between the two of you.

“Please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “He’s going to kill me!”

That was all it took. The man stepped between you and Rafe, his stance protective.

But Rafe didn’t flinch. He simply smiled.

“Wrong move,” Rafe muttered before pulling a knife from his belt and plunging it into the man’s side.

You screamed as the man crumpled to the ground, his blood mixing with the rain-soaked dirt.

“You see?” Rafe said, turning back to you, his knife dripping red. “There’s no one who can save you. No one who understands you like I do.”

————————————————————————

Days later, you woke up in a strange room, the faint scent of sea air filling your nose. Your wrists were bound, the rope digging into your skin.

Rafe sat in a chair nearby, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“You’re safe now,” he said, his voice tender. “No one’s going to take you away from me ever again.”

The reality settled over you like a shroud. You had escaped, but only briefly.

And now, there was no escape. Not from him. Not ever.

[short-honey-badger]

Doll 5

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Summary: You find a new friend and take your relationship with Shanks to the next step

* Kissing happens finally!*

Doll Masterlist

A couple of days pass, and you and Shanks grow closer. One could hardly be seen without the other following behind like a lost puppy. He had taken you back to the bakery each morning and ordered something new for you to try, but the blueberry pancakes were still your favorite since they'd been the first thing that Shanks had ordered for you.

The waitress, whose name was Mel, had found you after her shift and demanded that you go clothes shopping with her. You'd been confused, and asked what was wrong with the plain shirt and black pants you were wearing, and she pointed out that, while you had cleaned them, there wasn't anything wrong with having more than two sets of clothing. You realized that Mel was right after that, and the two of you had gone to find Shanks.

He had smiled upon seeing you with the other woman, glad to see that you had made a friend, and had given you more than enough cash to get whatever you wanted. Mel grabbed you by the hand and away the two of you went. She led you to a boutique run by a wrinkled old lady who had an eye for fabrics, and stood you in the middle of the room while they went on a hunt for fabrics and colors that would suit you the best.

“If you want to move things along with your, - wait. What is Shanks to you? Boyfriend, husband?” Mel asked from behind a pile of clothes that she'd discarded after you tried them on. The no pile was far bigger than the yes pile, and you didn't know what to think about that.

You blushed at her wording. It's a couple of days knowing the redhead, and he'd take you out on breakfast dates and hold your hand whenever the two of you went anywhere. The pirate would toss his arm over the back of your seat, always sitting next to you and making his crew move if there wasn't a seat available. You didn't mind the attention, and you certainly didn't mind all the touching, but putting a label on what the two of you were made you nervous, so you settled for the easy way out.

“Uhm. Just friends, I think,” you told her and pouted at the really look that Mel gives you. Ethel doesn't help when she chines in.

“That pirate of yours acts like my dear Edward, rest his soul, did when we first got together. Don't pretend like there isn't anything there, dear. It'll only hurt you in the end if you do.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, eyes lost in thought even as Mel hands you a new shirt to try on. You'd seen how couples acted before whenever you were allowed to go down to Sabaody, and it was definitely similar to the way you and Shanks acted. But you just met him, wasn't everything going too fast?

“I don't want to ruin anything,” you whispered after a moment, and in seconds, you had an old lady in your space, wrinkled hands taking her own.

“Can't ruin something if you don't let yourself have it to begin with, dear,” Ethel says kindly, and then squints at the shirt you have on, “Take that off. It doesn't flatter your chest at all.”

You blush and drop her hands to grab the hem to tug the blouse over your head and toss it in the no pile. You are lost in thought for the rest of the evening, wondering if it would be a good idea to talk to Shanks about all of this.

By the end of the trip, Mel and Ethel agreed upon ten different outfits that could be mixed and matched easily. You'd explained to them that you planned to leave with Shanks and would need some sturdier clothing to last out on the sea. Ethel had assured you that the fabrics she used would be perfectly fine and still make you look like a woman, and you couldn't thank the older lady enough. Mel dragged you out of the shop after saying goodbye, her chattering your ear off you, listening to her ramble on about everything and nothing.

Shanks stalked around the town, a frown on his face as he looked for you. He had wanted you to go out and have a good time with Mel, but he hadn’t thought that she would have you all day long. He had missed your presence and may have pouted so much that it had annoyed his ever patient first mate. Benn had sighed and told him to either stop sulking or go out and you, so Shanks had huffed and strutted out of the bar.

He hadn’t found you at the bakery, nor near the beach by the docks. He’d taken you there yesterday and had watched you find shells in the sand. He found it adorable that you seemed so fascinated by something so small and promised you that he’d get you a jar to put our collection in. Getting worried and just the smallest bit annoyed, Shanks made another loop around the town.

Shanks knew that he’d found you when he heard the sound of your laughter. He followed the sound down an alley to see you and Mel sat on the front steps of the bakery, steaming scones in hand. He slowed to a stop and just watched you for a moment, taking in the way you tossed your head back to laugh when your friend told a joke or made a smarmy quip. It was good seeing you like this, relaxed and open with someone that wasn’t him, though that didn’t stop the envy that curled up in his chest. He couldn’t help it, Shanks wanted you to look at him that way.

Which, well, you did, but after that first breakfast, there had been an underlining tenseness that you didn’t seem to notice whenever Shanks got close or whenever he said something flirty. It was almost like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, as if Shanks acting like this was just a big joke and you were the punchline. But he wasn’t joking or stringing you along. What he felt for you was more than just friendship, and he wished that you could see that.

“I just… I don’t want him to feel forced into this, Mel. I’m not used to having that kind of attention, not where I’m from. It’s hard for me to trust people, and this is all going so fast. How can I ask him to take a chance on me when I’ve already asked so much of him?”

Is that what you thought? That just because he had allowed you on his crew that wanting anything else from him would turn him away from you? The pirate can’t help but snort at such a silly thought. Shanks liked it when you asked for things, liked it when you seeked him out on your own volition.

“Hon, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a wonderful person, and your Red would be dumb to not want you. Which he does, by the way, a blind man could see that. But still, everyone has some kind of past. You just have to be brave enough to face it.”

Shanks watches as you nod and recognizes that determined set of your shoulders and the fire that suddenly blazes to life in your eyes. You look like the night he first met you, eyes resolute and a please for help on your lips. There is a pale pink aura surrounding you, and the emperor has a moment of clarification. You have Haki.

A grin spreads his face. Of course someone as special as you would have haki. You were so brave and beautiful that it’s a slap in his face that he hadn’t noticed it before now. It was no wonder why he was so drawn to you and you to him. Shanks was meant to find you.

The redhead stalks forward without thinking. He needs you to know that he wants you, that with his newfound knowledge, you become all the more irresistible to him. You glance up in surprise, eyes wide and cheeks flushing as he comes to a stop in front of you. He reaches out and snags your hand, an almost desperate look in his dark gaze.

“You’re not forcing me into anything, Doll. I want you for you. For how you make me feel. I’ve not said anything because I don’t want you to feel obligated to me.”

You stare up at your captain, not having expected him to come out of the alleyway, and it makes you wonder how much he overheard. Clearly enough that he feels the need to out his feelings for you in the middle of town. You bite your lip, hand clutching his own as you meet his gaze, “Shanks..”

“I swear to you that I’m not doing anything that I don’t want to do, Doll. Trust me, please?” He says quietly and drops your hand to reach up and cup your face, thumb grazing your lips. Shanks needs you to believe him, “Can I kiss you?”

The question makes sparks rain from the top of your spine to the tip of your toes. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but the thought of feeling his lips on yours makes the decision for you.

The redhead makes a sound of surprise when you suddenly surge up, your mouth smashing into his in an unruly kiss. Shanks takes it in stride, though, kissing back just as roughly, uncaring about your lack of experience. His hand slides from your cheek and up into your hair to hold you still, and eventually, you slow down, allowing him to carefully lead you into a soft press of lips.

Reluctantly, Shanks pulls away but doesn’t go very far. He keeps you close with the hand wrapped in your hair, back bowed so that he can press his brow against yours. You stare at him, eyes watery as you swallow harshly. There is an apology on your lips, but Shanks steals it away with another kiss.

“Don’t you dare take that back, Doll,” He rumbles against your mouth and presses a lingering kiss to the corner of your lips. You nod shakily, and then Shanks is releasing you, hand sliding from your hair to take your hand in his. He smirks down at Mel, who looks smug as a cat who got the cream.

“Care if I steal her away now?” He quips, and Mel shoos him with a laugh.

“Go on, lovebirds,” She says and then aims a smile at you, “Told you so.”

You roll your eyes and reach out to squeeze her hand, “Thank you, Mel. I’ll find you tomorrow, okay?”

This would be your last night on this island, and the thought of leaving your new friend behind makes you sad, but you know that it’s for the best. The longer you stayed in one spot, the more you had a chance of being found and taken back to Marie Geois. The other woman waved you both off with a happy smile, and Shanks eagerly pulled you back to the docks and to the beach.

He shrugged off his black cloak and splayed it on the ground, gesturing for you to sit with a sweeping bow. You couldn't help but giggle at the redhead and sat, making sure not to touch the sand too much. You expected Shanks to settle beside you, but instead the pirate sat behind you, long legs splayed on either side of your hips as he wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you back to rest against his chest. He sat his chin on top of your head, and you felt yourself completely relaxed, shoulders dropping as you slumped back against your captain.

“You okay with this, doll?” He murmured, and you shivered at the feeling of his breath tickling your ear. His hand was rubbing very distracting circles against your hip, fingers smoothing under your shirt to drag against your flesh. Shanks smiles against your hair when you nod. You didn't trust your voice not to squeak in embarrassment right now.

“Good. I've been wanting to hold you like this for a while, since that night you came and thanked me for letting you join the crew,” He blew a slow breath out, eyes shuttering as he tugged you closer, “You have no idea how special you are to me, sweetheart.”

Shanks considers telling you about the faint aura he'd seen earlier but decided against it. He doesn't want to ruin the peaceful moment the two of you are having, but he will tell you soon. Each of his crew could use haki, and would be essential in teaching you how to harness it yourself. He had promised to teach you everything that he knew, and that would be one of the firsts.

Speaking of teaching you things, Shanks shifted so that he could face you better, a playful grin on his lips as he leaned down into your space, “Was that your first kiss?”

You nodded slowly, lip trapped between your teeth, and Shanks moved his hand up to your face, thumb gently tugging The abused flesh free and stroking your bottom lip. He shivers when you slide your tongue out to wet your lips, the muscle accidentally flicking against his thumb.

“Yeah. Intimacy was forbidden in the household that owned me,” you whisper, and Shanks hums, a frown tugging at his mouth.

“Well you aren't theirs anymore, Darling. So how about we start your first lesson?” He rumbles and smirks when he watches your eyes hood and darken with interest. When you move forward, Shanks meets you halfway, lips pressing into yours as he holds you close in the setting sun.