#( and as for his own he's pretty happy with where he stands in terms of family and friends )

[techniiciian]

@stillsolo sent an ask:

technical machine character development meme.

fissure. does your muse have any relationships that they’d like to fix?

at this point in time, and in this specific verse, i'd have to say no. matt's content in the relationships he has with his family, his subordinates, and his friends.

wait . . . well, i suppose on a political level there are some he'd want to smooth out ( i'm leaving this vague ). this will however be a fun topic to further explore as i delve deeper into this particular verse.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

In Sickness and Health

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Logan takes care of you when you're sick.

Disclaimer: Mentions of throwing up, getting the flu, flashbacks to exploding boats. Mostly fluff for how Logan takes care of the reader. Couple of swear words. Happy ending. Not Proof Read.

You never got sick. 

It didn’t matter who you were around, or where you had been or what you had been doing. You never got sick. 

You could help ten puking kids, three more flu ridden ones, walk through a room full of adults who had everything from the flu to fainting from it, and still walk away and not have gotten sick. 

Standing by the kitchen door, Logan watched you. 

In all fairness, he’d been watching you ever since he saw you sneeze whilst he was sitting outside teaching a kid outside of lesson times. Sitting in a classroom didn’t help the kid, but sitting outside on a bench, watching the world go by…well, the kids could recite the whole book by the end. 

For three days, you’d been sniffling, sneezing and coughing. No more than anyone else, but coming from you, it was concerning for Logan. 

He couldn’t get sick, but that was due to his own mutation. Not by some miracle act from God. 

So, standing by the kitchen door, Logan watched you. 

Your nose was a little red from the amount of times you’d used a tissue against it in the last few days, your skin was flushed, your eyes heavy and your steps slow. 

For the third time in four minutes, you zipped your jumper back up and shivered. 

“You’re sick.”

Logan’s voice made you jump. He wasn’t loud but it still made your ears ring. 

“I am not sick.”

“Yes, you are.” Logan pushed himself from the door frame and he walked closer towards you. 

“I don’t get sick. I’m not sick. Just…tired. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“No, neither did I. I could hear you coughing and sneezing from down the hall.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Sure.” Logan raised his brows for a second. 

“It wasn’t.”

Then you sneezed. 

“Okay,” Logan practically sang, taking you by your shoulders. “Let's get you to bed.”

“I don’t need to go to bed. I’m making food-”

“We don’t need you making everyone else sick. One kid, fine. An entire school? Even Mother Teresa might struggle with that one.”

Logan stood behind you and guided you out of the door and down the hallways. 

“Why is it so hot in here?” Quickly zipping your jacket back down, you tried your hardest to get it off you as fast as you could. Logan helped you for a moment before pressing his hand to the back of your neck. 

“You’re sick.”

“I am not sick.”

“You’re freezing cold,” Logan pointed out. 

“Then why do I feel like I’m on fire?”

“Because,” Logan said. “You’re sick.”

Helping you down the hall and into your bedroom, Logan pulled the covers back from your bed and made sure you got into it. The minute your head hit the pillow, the pouding just became a dull ache. 

“If I’m so sick, why are you helping me? You’ll get sick.”

Logan shook his head as he tucked you in whilst simultaneously untucking your duvet from the frame of the bed. 

“I can’t get sick. My mutation makes sure I can’t.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’.”

“But what about the kitchen?” 

You went to get out of bed again but Logan practically ran around the bed to stop you. It didn’t take a firm hand to push you back down. 

He sat beside you, his arms caging you in where you lay. 

“Don’t worry about that. I can take care of it.”

“You can cook?”

Logan nodded. 

“You? You, Logan Howlett, can cook?”

Logan furrowed his brows, a little offended. “Don’t sound too shocked.”

“Just…never seen you cook an actual meal.”

Logan shrugged, “When you bunk with seven other soldiers who don’t know the difference between toast and charcoal, you learn pretty quickly.”

“Huh.” You said, slightly shocked by his admission. Though, come to think of it, Logan was full of surprises these days. 

Your friendship with him hadn’t started out on the best of terms given that you had punched him in the face when you first met him, thinking he was on the other team of people who were hunting you. 

You got a good swing in, too. Made his nose bleed. Which was never an easy feat when it came to someone like Logan. 

Of course, for a while, given that you didn’t want to join either team, or any team for that matter, you and Logan were a bit stand-offish to each other. On the rare occasion you did see each other (usually whenever X-Men came to find you), your communication with him was through glares and grunts. Which he gave back in return. 

Then the first couple of times he, technically, saved your life, you were more adamant on fighting him. Like when he pulled you out of the water when you fell in, even though it had been on purpose and you yelled at him for leaving the boat you’d both been on. 

“Oh, well excuse me for thinking I was saving your life!” He had yelled at you as you walked up the bank and found a log to throw your jacket over whilst you wrung out your hair and the bottom of your t-shirt. 

“I jumped, Logan. I didn’t fall. I knew what I was doing. You should be on that boat right now!”

“Maybe, but now I guess we’re stuck together, huh?”

Funnily enough, it was after that day you decided you hated him a little less. But it wasn’t from the water, it was when he actually listened to you and left the boat when you told him to just before it exploded. 

He was the one to find you back at the bank when you dragged yourself up it and collapsed, catching your breath. 

“You blew up a boat.”

You nodded. “I blew up a boat. And saved your life. I guess now we’re even.”

“Even, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He offered you his hand a minute later and pulled you up. 

It still took a while for you to both become friends, but at least from that day forward, you were both civil and talked. 

A few hours passed after Logan had tucked you in, or at least, you guessed they had, considering the sky was less sun-lit and more moon-lit. 

“Hey,” Logan shook you awake gently and you turned over, your entire body hurting as you did so. 

Slowly you sat up and felt Logan’s hands brush the hair from your face until he could see you clearly. 

“Here, take these. Drink this.”

You swallowed down two tablets but made a small groan when Logan didn’t let go of the cup. 

“You’ve already broken two, this is just safer.”

Then you remembered. 

Logan kept his hand on the bottom of the cup as you held it and drank from it before pulling it away and placing it on your side table.

And looked down. 

“Why am I wearing your shirt?”

“Because I found it in your draw. And it’s easier to get you out of it, if you spill something on it again.”

You furrowed your brows. “You got me changed?”

“It was either that or listen to you keep falling around in here.” 

You grunted a small response as Logan went to lift something else from beside your bed. “Here, you need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” You tried to push it away. 

“You haven’t eaten in two days. You need to eat something.”

You groaned again. “What is it?”

“Soup.” Logan gave you a small spoonful, the heat from the bottom of the bowl warming his hand. “Careful, it’s hot.”

He managed to get at least half of the bowl down before you rejected it saying you were full. 

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because someone else might actually think you mean what you say while you're sick.”

You were still for a moment, then nodded. Maybe he was right. 

“What time is it?”

“A little after eight.”

You just hummed and slowly lay back down in bed. 

“You just get some rest.” Logan told you, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles of your hand before getting up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You didn’t know if it was a minute, but he was back. 

With his hand against your forehead, and through the blurry vision of your eyes in the dark, you could tell he looked worried. 

“Honey, you’re burning up.” He told you, slowly peeling back each layer of bedding you’d put on top of yourself. 

You hissed as he pulled the final layer back. “Logan, it’s freezing.”

“Come here, sit up for me.”

And you did. 

Crouching in front of your legs, Logan kept his eyes on you until he checked the thermometer was on. 

“Open up.”

You did so and he stuck the thermometer under your tongue. 

“I’m surprised you know how to do this.”

“Stop talking.”

You waited for a few seconds, but then you had to speak. 

“Logan, I don’t feel so good.”

“I know-”

Within a split second, you pulled the thermometer from your mouth, left it on the bed and a momentarily confused Logan behind as you ran towards your bathroom and flipped up the toilet lid. 

“Okay, okay.” Logan was right behind you, pulling your hair back and rubbing your back as you practically threw your guts up into the toilet bowl. 

Eventually, it stopped but you remained where you were. The puking might have stopped for a moment but the gurgling inside your stomach hadn’t. 

“I think I’m sick.”

Logan gave a fake scoff. “See, now that’s just untrue.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” you told him, feeling a small smile on your face before it was wiped away by the wave of a sick feeling again. 

For a moment, the gurgling in your stomach subsided and you dropped to the side of the toilet against the wall. 

Logan quickly ran a fresh wash cloth under the sink before he wiped your face down, removing some of the sick stains and sweat. Once he ran it clean, he gave it to you to place at the back of your neck. 

Then he stood up again and started searching through the draws around the sink til he found what he was looking for. 

“Lean forward a little.”

You followed his instructions before you felt his hands scoop up your hair and secure it with a scrunchie he had found. 

“Thank you.”

Reaching up to the counter, he pulled down the thermometer he was yet to check and gave a small whistle.

“Well, what’s the verdict, doc? Girl or boy?”

“39.6.”

“That’s a lot of kids..”

“I’ve called Jean. She’s still tied up at that conference in Melbourn but she should be back soon.”

“Hopefully she knows how I can give birth to that many.”

“Think you can stand?”

“After giving birth? Hell no.”

Logan sighed, but you didn’t miss the chuckle that escaped him as he helped you up off the floor. 

“You okay?” Logan asked you if you gripped onto him as you swayed on the spot. 

“Dizzysall.” You drawled a little as you spoke, closing your eyes. 

“Let's get you back into bed.”

Logan helped you from your bathroom, back into your bedroom and into bed. You pulled the covers back over you, only to have Logan pull them off again. You whined a little. 

“We still need to get your temp down, bub.”

You gave in, your strength leaving you as tiredness kicked right back in. Again, Logan brushed the stray hairs from your face as you tried your best to fight off sleep. 

“You’re gonna get sick.”

“Can’t, remember?” Logan’s voice was soft. “Mutation stops it.”

You nodded, remembering, letting out a small; “Lucky bastard.”

Logan chuckled but just sat beside you as your hand held onto his while your eyes closed, giving him a little more freedom to let his eyes wander around your room. 

You had a couple pictures round your room, but not many. However, you did have a hefty parcel you were yet to open, on your desk that he could guarantee contained some. Also on your desk you had a small record player, as well as the records lined up beside it. You had everything ranging from Christmas Classics to Movie Soundtracks to 80s rock. Most had been your own that you brought with you when you moved into the school, taking up a teaching position. But some others had been gifts from birthdays, christmases and the last couple had been from one’s Logan had found himself. He thought you might like to add them to your collection so picked them up and brought them back from flea markets and other places he found whenever he went out. 

From what he could see, the last record you had played was one he had found for you. 

When you were sound asleep, Logan stood and walked across your room and opened up your window which let in a cool breeze. 

He was quiet as he moved about your room, shutting the door a little so he could flush the toilet without disturbing you before he tidied up the bathroom a little. 

Then he started cleaning around your room, wiping down any surface you had touched and any that you could have. 

By the time he finished, he woke you up again to make sure you got some more fluids down you all the while feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. 

“You feel cooler.”

“Just what I’ve always wanted to hear.” 

Taking the thermometer from your bedside table, he uncapped it and placed it under your tongue. You stayed quiet this time, waiting for the beep. 

Your temperature had gone down a little, but not by much. 

“Logan? Will you stay with me?”

Logan nodded. “Sure, bub. Lay down.”

You did so and he walked around the other side of your bed, pulling the covers to the floor save for the thinnest and lightest one. 

Almost instantly you curled into him and closed your eyes, his arms holding you close. 

“Thank you for making sure I don’t die.”

Logan smiled. “If you did, who would give me crap from cooking?”

You gave a slight smile before sleep overtook you. You woke a couple of hours later to chuck up the last few remaining ounces of your internal organs, and Logan stayed with you the whole time. 

And when you fell asleep on your window seat, having been desperate for fresh air that didn’t smell like the inside of a toilet bowl, Logan carried you back into bed. 

By the time morning rolled around, you had less of a rough storm inside your stomach but you were no better than the night before. 

So, Logan made you take a shower. 

“I’m gonna keep this door open,” Logan called over his shoulder, between the gap he had left in the door. “Shout me if you need me.”

“Okay.”

Immediately, Logan started stripping your bed covers and sheets, changing them for fresh ones. He was almost done when you came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. Saying nothing, you moved over to sit by the window seat and let the fresh air brush around you. 

Logan found you an extra towel and wrapped it over your shoulders so you wouldn’t get too cold, or even sicker, before going in search of some clothes. 

You managed to pull your arms through the t-shirt and lift it over your head. Logan helped pull it down over the rest of your towel covered body and left you to deal with your pants whilst he shut the window so the gap for air wasn’t so big. 

You pulled the towel undone from underneath you and Logan took it from you, throwing it into the laundry basket by your door. 

You managed to twist your hair into a bun as you walked over to your bed, laying on top of the sheets. 

The rest of the day was spent sleeping, waking up when Logan came back to make sure you were getting enough water and medicine down you as well as keeping it down. And by the afternoon, he had found a couple of old movies. 

And when you asked him to stay with you, he did. 

You fell asleep fifteen minutes in, but Logan still stayed with you. And even if he wanted to leave, he couldn’t. Because your hands had been held above his, over your middle since he lay beside you. 

You turned over, half way through the movie, gripping onto his shirt and he just rested his chin on the top of your head. 

You woke up six hours later and felt better. 

Over the next two days, your fever finally went down and you stopped gagging at every smell that was stronger than laundry softener. Until finally, you were sat up in bed with Logan, able to feed yourself without your arms screaming at you to just not move an inch. 

“I mean it, Logan. Thank you. For everything.” You told him, turning to look at him. 

He had made you some more soup and gave you some added crackers. Your appetite wasn’t back but you were thankful that you were actually hungry for once and not feeling sea sick. 

“Don’t mention it. How’s the soup?”

“Tastier now that it doesn’t smell like everything else did.”

Logan nodded. “Still surprised that I can cook?”

“Oh, yeah. I still need to see you cook to believe it though.”

Logan smiled. You were getting better. 

The conversation flowed for a while longer until you asked Logan one specific question. 

“Do you remember when we became friends? I’m not talking about after the boat. I mean like, actual friends.”

“We’re friends?”

You scoffed, hiding your smile whilst he showed his, and shoved him slightly. 

“I’m kidding. But you remember the river?”

You nodded. “Of course. You don’t exactly forget jumping from an exploding vessel.”

Logan waited a moment and then nodded. “I remember when we became friends. You took care of Rouge. She wouldn’t let anyone in to see her, but she let you.” 

Logan leaned his head back and looked up to the ceiling. “God, I remember that. I think you even called me an ass.”

“Correction; A jackass.”

“Forgive me.”

“Forgiven.” You nodded. “You were so worried about her, and I couldn’t blame you. But you were being a jackass.”

“I just remember racing home and by the time I got upstairs, everyone was in bed, except for you. You stayed with her all night.”

“So you made me a cup of coffee.” You finished for him. 

Logan nodded. “I remember all of that. Why’d you ask?”

“Because I’m glad it happened.” You told him. “Not Rouge getting sick, but…the moment. I’m glad we became friends with Logan, because it made me trust you outside of being an X-Man. And, I’m sorry about all the disgusting things you’ve witnessed in the past couple of days but…I’m glad you were the one to help me. I trust you, Logan. With my life. Both figuratively and literally.”

Logan shifted his hand so it held onto yours. “I’m glad, too.”

A few moments passed and you both broke eye contact when a pair of familiar heels were heard coming down the hallway. 

“Here you both are.”

Jean was finally back. “You’re looking better than Logan described.”

You looked at Logan for a moment before looking back at Jean. “Yeah, it’s been…rough.”

“How are you feeling?” 

“Better now,” you smiled a little. “Logan had a lot to do with it.”

“I’m glad you’re okay. I’m just gonna go and check on everyone else. Make sure they’re not coming down with something, too. Are you two okay here?”

You nodded, “We’re fine.”

Jean didn’t fail to spot where Logan was holding your hand, and she gave a brief smile before heading towards the door. 

A week later you were right as rain and was finally getting to see something you had been begging to witness all week. 

Logan cook. 

You sat by the kitchen island, watching him prepare the ingredients, cook said ingredients, all the while creating a delicious meal that wasn’t just soup and crackers, all without burning the house down. 

“So you really know how to cook?” You asked, bouncing a wooden spoon between your fingertips. 

“I really know how to cook.” Logan said with a small smile as he sliced through the pastry. 

“Why don’t you do it more often?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Pass me that?”

You handed over the wooden spoon and Logan started stirring something. “Come and try this.”

And you did. 

That night, you both sat out on the balcony, watching the stars go by. 

And, as you sat there, watching the stars go by, the music from the record player steaming out from the kitchen, you looked over at Logan and realised something. 

You trusted him. 

You more than trusted him. 

You, in fact, loved him. 

It would be a few months more before something would happen between you both, but you would come to find out that Logan had realised that exact same thing. But rather than realise it out on the balcony, he had realised it for himself back inside the kitchen when you had stood beside him. 

He couldn’t make sense of it at the time. Why, for such a small moment, had he realised then. But either way, he was thankful for it. Both of your lives were lived in higher stakes. 

To have a small moment feels so connected with such a big one…

Looking at you, and having you look back in the same manner…

That meant the world to him. 

In sickness and in health, 

You meant the World to him. 

[cheri-2047]

a scenario where “they find out you’re pregnant after you break up” with alhaitham, ayato, alhaitham, diluc, wriothesley or just any of them?? 🙂‍↕️

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I haven’t started the inazuma quest so I don’t know much about ayato, this is completely based off on his voicelines so my bad.

as for Alhaitham diluc and wriothesley

THERE WILL BE AN ATTEMPT ! (I had hyper fixations on alhaitham and a lil bit on wriothesley)

I added LYNEY to the mix cause I need to see his x reader tag filled after days (it’s been less than 24 hours) of it not being filled

this will be mostly headcanons cause I’ve been losing motivation to write full fics lately 😔 I’m gen sorry

”You’re…pregnant?” With Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Ayato, Diluc, Lyney

TAGS: is pregnancy a tag 😭 it’s just y’all talking abt it 😭 alcohol (diluc)

CHARACTERS: haitham wriothesley, ayato, diluc, lyney.

MENTIONS OF: kaveh, sigewinne, kaeya, ayaka, Thoma, Lynette, freminet

ALHAITHAM:

you doorbell on his home, only to see…

kaveh.

”oh! It’s been awhile since you visited, uhh… he’s still at the akademya…would you like to wait or…”

kaveh lets you in and it’s up to you if you want to leave honestly. He’s aware you two broke up but decided not to pry into it anymore (to help both you and Alhaitham handle it on your own)

as you wait, you just watch him make his blueprints, he offers you drinks while you wait, but the moment the door opens kaveh packs up and leaves the room

“Alhaitham…?”

you called out for Alhaitham, as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“….”

he nods his head to acknowledge your presence.

“it’s been awhile.”

he sat across from you.

“why the sudden visit?”

“look, remember that night when we…. Um…”

“….what about it…?”

when you told him about it, he was speechless for awhile

”come again?”

you two sit in silence for awhile, both of you PRAYING that the other says something

”…what do YOU want?” He asks, wanting to know if you’ll keep the baby or not.

”I was hoping I could keep it… I just wanted to tell you since you know…”

he nods, he stands up and sits next to you.

He smiles, “would you be okay with raising them together?”

he was actually pretty happy that you wanted to keep the baby, both of you before you broke up wanted to have a family with each other. So he was still happy that you were still up to it

you nod

”I want us to try again” he says, while holding both your hands.

”I want to try to fix this relationship…do you?”

of you say yes, he smiles and hugs you, if you say no, he nods and says he understands, but still asks if he can raise the kid with you

”do you want to move in?” He offers, “I have a spare room, you can stay there while we fix our relationship, no rush…”

he assures you,

you nod. “I guess kaveh’s getting another roommate huh? Ah- another two roommates” he smiles as he rubs your belly.

while you’re pregnant, he takes care of finances, everything really. He pampers you and stuff

kaveh is happy for the both of you just “as long as you don’t make me the babysitter…. Except for if you lessen my rent”

When the baby comes haitham was there to support you

you two took care of the child pretty well (Kaveh taking care of the kid VOLUNTARILY since he’s grown to get attached to them, he even teaches them how to draw as they grow up)

Alhaitham and you get your relationship fixed (yayyy)

Alhaitham comes home earlier to help with the baby, he plays with the kid and does everything in general

he reads the kid as many books as they want, every day even if he’s busy he WILL make time for the kid.

sometimes he takes the baby to work with him, and while he works he talks to the baby (he teaches things to them as well)

Alhaitham proudly introduces them to Cyno and nari and they call Collei the sister of your kid

make another request if u want them as parents headcanons cause I can fill thousands of these

WRIOTHESLEY:

You and wriothesley ended your relationship on pretty good terms

you still visit him sometimes and that’s how this whole thing started

sigewinne started to notice how you constantly looked in pain, or how some days you come later than usual

she didn’t say much about it until she could have sworn she heard you throwing up in one of the bathrooms.

she asks you what’s wrong and when you say you don’t know, she brings you in for a checkup.

that’s when you found out. “you’re pregnant!”

she says happily while clapping her hands. “Congrats!”

you panicked, knowing EXACTLY who the father was.

“….whats wrong?”

she asks, noticing your silence

“…is it wriothesley?”

you nod, not even knowing how to tell him or how he will react.

“I’m sure he’ll be glad, ah speak of the devil!”

he entered the room, he heard you throwing up and he panicked. But when he entered the room, he had an unreadable expression.

“you’re…pregnant?”

he asked. And that’s when you realized he heard everything. As you nod he takes awhile to think

He sits down on one of the infirmary beds in front of you,

“….can we keep it? If you don’t want to I understa-“

you nod, he smiled and moved beds to sit next to you.

sigewinne went away to give you two some privacy

”I don’t want them growing up here though” he chuckled, he didn’t want the kid growing in the fortress of meropide

”wouldn’t let ‘em even if we had the option” you joked back, as wriothesley held your hand

”…you’re really okay with keeping the baby? Don’t wanna have regrets now”

as you reassure him, he pulls you into a hug

”how do we raise them?” He asks, squeezing your hand a bit

”what do you mean?”

”as…as best friends like we are now? Or… do.. do you want to try again? Being in a more… serious relationship I mean”

mid you say u wanan try, he’ll be happy and afterwards press a kiss to your cheek, and if you say no, he will nod but still be happy you two can have a family.

ge ends the talk with “I love you”

during pregnancy he makes sigewinne go to your home to help you when he’s busy

The moment you say ure in too much pain, he runs to your home, and cares for you the entire time.

eventually you move in to his mansion, and his maids take care of your cravings and all

He feels bad for being absent but every day when he comes home he has a gift for you <3

i feel wriothesley wouldnt want the kid to be scared with the criminals he handles so he doesn’t talk much about work at home

he enjoys being with you, he is more at home now as much as he can.

he’s in charge of diapers, he doesn’t care if he’s out he told you he will do it

in fact he’s like that with almost everything.

The moment you try to tell him “I can do it” he goes

“You’ve spent 9 months taking care of this kid on your own, no buts.”

he wants you to have a breeze with the kid

Every night, the kid cuddles with you two to sleep.

He makes an effort to go out with you two, on picnics or anthing, he wants to make sure this kid is loved due to his backstory

jes also very protective of the kid, he loves you two very much

AYATO:

You and ayato ended your relationship pretty formally, he didn’t want you two to have bad blood between each other

you don’t keep in touch much, but occasionally he sends messages asking how you are and all.

Lately however, you’ve been getting more sick and feeling bad. You asked your friends about it and they didn’t really know what to do, they passed it off as “maybe you ate something bad?”

you couldn’t handle it anymore, so one day you went to the hospital with your friend ayaka. Ayaka was one of your closest friends, even before dating ayato you two were already close, she went with you to the hospital (since you didn’t want to go alone) and after awhile, you two found out you were pregnant.

“Congratulations!” She clapped, as the doctor left the room. “What’s with the long face?”

“….I need to talk to ayato…. Ayaka do you know if he’s busy today?”

she then realized what you meant, before nodding and helping you check out of the hospital

that same day, luckily when you dropped her off, ayato was right outside, just taking a stroll around. He waved when he saw you and ayaka.

ayaka asked him if he was busy and he shook his head. And that’s when she left the two of you.

“it’s been quite some time hasnt it? What’s so urgent?”

he asks as you two continue to walk outside the kamisato estate

As you explain to him the situation, he stops walking

”you’re sure? You double checked?”

its not that he doesn’t want the baby, it’s just he’s worried about the amount of pain you’ll go through

he brings you two to sit outside (on a chair ofc) and as you tell him you were sure, he was speechless for a bit

”…dear i think it’s up to you for what to do”

”if you’d like to keep it, I’d be more than happy to raise them with you, but if not…I’ll help you get things arranged”

if you say you keep it, he will smile and kiss you on the cheek.

”sorry” he chuckles

”can I raise them with you?”

if you say no he says he will then just support you financially and if you say yes, he will clap in excitement

as you’re pregnant, he lets you stay in his house (in the comments please tell me if his home has a name so I’ll edit it) and he spends more nights working more to ensure you two have everything enough for the baby (even if he’s already rich)

He takes some more days off than usual, just caring and pampering you

ayaka is so happy that her best friend lives with her and she also helps u too, morning sickness? If Ayato’s busy, she’ll be right there to hold your hair back. cravings? She will immediately ask the chef to cook it for you.

Thoma also is more than delighted to help, he’s actually really happy for you two.

as for your relationship with ayato, things aren’t sure. But he would always be open to the idea of trying again with you

once the baby arrives, ayato drops what he’s doing and immediately runs to you, he takes you to the hospital (ayaka and thoma too) and stays by your side and holds your hand the entire time

once the baby is out, he would go “good job darling, I’m so proud of you” and kisses you on the forehead

he takes a LOT of days off more now, (ayaka volunteered to do his work for her even if it’s difficult) and he pampers you and the kid

its up to you if you want to raise your kid as the next heir, but ayato definitely wouldn’t force you (or the kid, he would ask the kid once he’s older if they want and gives him 2 years to change their mind is they say yes or no)

he asks thoma to help him learn how to cook, change diapers, etc, he genuinely just wants to make this kid feel as loved as possible.

if your baby cries in the middle of the night he tucks you in and handles it himself.

he’d honestly be a good dad even if he’s really busy at times.

DILUC:

”what?”

“immm pregnant….”

you said, completely out of your mind after you had a few drinks at the tavern.

“y/n you’re drunk.”

he thinks you’re joking, but suddenly you pull out a pregnancy test

“Tadaaaaa…..”

he looks at you in shock

“where did you get this?”

“From me…?”

“It’s no time for jokes y/n where did you get this”

“i can take another one if you wanttt”

not only does he have to deal with this, but he also has to deal with you being drunk as hell.

“not now, oh god if you’re serious… you drank too much alcohol”

he panics, he immediately takes the drinks away from you and carries you to your home in mondstadt.

“please tell me you’re lying”

it’s not that he doesn’t want the baby, he’s just scared that you ARE pregnant and since you drank a lot that night, it would damage the baby

“woah there”

diluc bumps into kaeya, and kaeya looks at him weirdly to find you just muttering in his arms

“Kaeya, I need you to do me a favor”

“oh? Not even daring to speak to your brother for months only to come back for a favor hmm?”

“I’m serious this isn’t a game!”

Kaeya then nodded

“alright alright, what do you want”

Diluc explains to him what you announced and he asked for him to go to the pharmacy to ask if you did buy tests.

“alright, I’ll meet you in her home”

kaeya runs and diluc runs to your home, laying you down in your bedroom.

he runs to the bathroom and he does see a box of tests and 3 other positive tests.

“…so you were serious huh?” He sits next to you on your bed, seeing how you passed out from the drinks.

he watches over you the entire night, thinking things through

kaeya comes and confirms you bought them, and he thanks him.

”so you’re gonna be a dad?” kaeya asks, looking at his brother

”…I mean… y/n and I did want to be parents… it’s just yeah.. the falling out”

“what are you gonna do about it?”

”…if she keeps the baby, I’ll gladly help her. I’ll ask adelinde to stay in her home or she stays in the manor” (forgot what his home is called)

”so I’m gonna be an uncle huh?” Kaeya jokes

”I’d actually be really happy if you’d support this” diluc admits,

”of course I do, you’d be a good dad” kaeya reassures him

a few hours later kaeya leaves and in the morning you remember your conversation with diluc

he talks you over with it and once you two reach an agreement, he smiles.

he takes you to his manor and even if he has to work, he’s home earlier every day to help.

he starts building things, a crib, etc

once the baby is out, adelinde helps you two, and diluc overall though he’s strict, he’s really good

be plays with the kid, teaches them to attack, anything the kid wants, he supports

during arguments (if it’s between you and diluc) he makes sure the kid doesn’t hear, he doesn’t want to scare him.

”hey kiddo, let’s get you to your room okay? Ah and wear this” he hands him headphones “no taking off okay?”

You two however, sleep in different rooms.

if you Two get together, then in the same room.

diluc loves you two very much (kaeya and Adelinde as well)

Adelinde does usual chores and plays with the kid when you both are busy

and kaeya makes a bigger effort to visit more

actually what’s really nice is kaeya and diluc gets close again, when they both play with the kid, they themselves get reminded of their childhood and it’s really wholesome honestly

LYNEY:

(I love him so much)

when you two dated, you two were actually roommates. Up until now you two are roommates, and best friends

You didn’t even take any suspicion that you were pregnant, he just noticed more changes in your mood how you always looked in pain.

one morning, you suddenly had morning sickness, he was cooking breakfast and once he heard your retching, he closed the flame and ran, he pulled back your hair and rubbed your back

“there there,”

when you finished, he ran to get you some water and sat with you against the bathroom wall for a bit

“I think we need to talk”

“hm?”

“this- it can’t just be a coincidence Mon cher”

(I HEADCANON THAT HE GOT USED TO CALLING YOU PET NAMES IN UR RELATIONSHIP AND YOU SAID THAT ITS OKAY THAT HE DOES THAT)

“what do you mean?”

“you’ve been having more pains yes? Your mood has been more down lately, and your morning sickness?”

“morning sickness? No Lyney I’m sure I just ate something bad-“

“I think you’re pregnant”

“…what?”

And that’s how this whole thing started

The entire morning he tries to convince you

”birth control isn’t… doesn’t always work” he mutters

if you’re in denial, he goes out later to buy a test.

once you try it, and it’s positive you try another

”I’m… I’m really….”

he nods

”…y/n? Do you want to keep them?”

If you nod, he smiled and hugs you tightly and if you say no, he says he will get arlecchino to help with the process.

you two remain roommates and you can tell he’s trying his best to pretend to still be in the actual relationship

one night, he talks to you talking about how he still wants to try again, with being lovers and all

if you say no, he respects that and if you say yes, he presses kisses all over your face

he’s overjoyed really, and he’s so excited to tell Lynette and freminet

as for father… he doesn’t know how she will react so he writes her a letter

and she’s happy, she supports, but comes the next question

”what do we do with the fatui?” Lyney explains that he doesn’t want the kid to even HEAR about the fatui, especially with the trauma he got from it but at the same time, he doesn’t want to lie

You two decide to hide it as best as you can from the kid and tell him when he’s older. It isn’t the best choice but LYNEY doesn’t want the kid to be haunted by the crimes and all

he pampers you, comes home earlier form missions and he genuinely loves you a lot, if you want something no matter how far, he WILL get it

once the babies come out, yes, babies, you gave birth to twins,

he was the happiest person ever, kissing you and thanking you and telling you that he’s so proud of you and all.

he raises the kids very well, he doesn’t want them to end up being sad at all.

magic tricks? Always there. Every time the kids say something magical lyney tríes his best to make it come true

je loves you all very much

anything the child wants, he will support.

he teaches them some magic tricks and buys them their own cards.

lynette and freminet visit often and they help you two take care of the kids, and arlecchino

shes really proud of lyney :)) and she won’t force the kids to join the fatui

lyney always does his all to make you all happy, and sometimes he even falls asleep while watching over the kids

he wants to make life as easy for you and sometimes he forgets about himself, but he appreciates it when you tell him you want the same for him

A/N: GOD THIS WAS SO FUN, sorry I didn’t add any periods or capitalization, it’s just headcanons and I don’t wanna be like EXTREMELY serious about this cause it’s just for fun. Anyways thanks for requesting !! I added LYNEY cause I love lyney so much like omfg. I didn’t color code it since I’m not using the tumblr app anymore (rip storage) and so that’s why I have to use the site. Anyways thank you for requesting and my bad again if I mischaracyerized them, just comment if I did and I’ll change it <3 comments on how I can improve are appreciated!

[neuvistar]

aventurine x fem!reader. cw. some hsr leak spoilers? + a lil rushed | not proofread, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancies, use of nicknames (feminine terms too, wife.. etc), minors dni. ( this is another aventurine thirst.. slight spoilers(?) r in the beginning!!)

aventurine was the last of his kind, he acknowledged that often. his people, oh his people.. many of the innocent lives of his people were lost, like a baby losing its mother. he knew there was no use in trying to look if there were still survivors, it’s truly no use. he was the last of his kind. and he spent countless days, hours, weeks, months and maybe years thinking he’d die alone, with nobody by his side.. chained to the life of a loner, who is forced to live knowing he couldn’t save anyone of his kind.. chained to a life where people all around him hated his guts.

that was until he met you, his pretty little wife.

aventurine’s always wanted kids, to say the least. not only to restore his kind, but to raise children with you, take them out to parks.. realize the true importance and meaning of a love of a father.

aventurine’s heart belonged to you completely, he couldn’t remember the last time he’s been happy like this.. he loved you with all his heart and it showed. aventurine would kiss you, hug you and rub your belly.. whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “one day.. your tummy will be ready and full of my younglings, my darling wife. are you excited for that day?” you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you gave him a playful smack on the arm. “you’re getting too excited, ‘turine. i’m not even pregnant yet.”

“yet.” aventurine’s hands eagerly made their way down, tracing the shape of your body. "beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration. "you’re so beautiful, i can't help but touch you. my future younglings are so lucky to have such a pretty mother.” his fingers lingered on your breasts, savoring the feeling of their soft weight in his palms. aventurine's eyes flicked up to meet yours, a smoldering intensity in their depths. "i want a daughter with your eyes.. and your beauty, a son with your intelligence.. please. i need it all.” honestly, he’s probably so whiny n desperate all the time, always talking about getting you pregnant.. wanting to see you carry his offsprings, he wanted to restore his happiness and your own.

“mm, i know you don't want me to stop, don’t you?" aventurine’s voice was husky with desire. his hands slipped lower, tracing their way down to your lower abdomen, teasingly brushing against your wet panties. "i’ve been imagining this all night long.. watching you care for our baby girl or baby boy,” he reached beneath your panties, toying with your folds with the tip of his fingers while the others pinch and pull at your nipples. “.. you know i can't stand it anymore, baby. not when you know how much i want to claim you right here, right now. i want children, pretty girl. can.. we?”

“please.” you murmured. a grin emerged from his pretty face, eyes widened as he felt the warmth radiating from between your legs, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, his mouth watering at the familiar scent. He couldn't help but lick his lips as he continued to rub his hand against your sensitive folds, his thumb brushing against your clit. leaning closer, aventurine pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his tongue slowly making its way past your parted lips, exploring your mouth hungrily. there was one thing and one thing only in his mind, he was gonna breed you full tonight. your husband’s hand moved up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and index finger, causing you to moan even louder. your body arched into his touch, begging for more..

“so beautiful.. so perfect. such a pretty little thing for me,” aventurine grunted as he continued to thrust in and out of your wet cunt, his cock stretching your walls further than you have ever experienced before. the blonde wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you up slightly to better angle his thrusts. "i’ll treat you so good, dollface, our little babies are gonna have such a great father, believe me honey.” he panted, his breath hot against your neck. “fuck, ‘turine.. feels too good..” your nails dug deep into his shoulders, leaving shallow marks as you could almost see the stars, biting your lip to suppress the soft whines that threatened to leave your lips. “i know honey, i know it feels good,” aventurine knew he could feel his release building up inside of him, it’s like he buried himself within you to the absolute hilt, his cockhead rubbing against your sweetest spots. “god, i can’t wait for your pregnancy to bloom, dollface.. just like a fuckin’ flower.” his member throbbed and pulsed violently, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through both of you.

“can you feel it, doll? my love for you? can you feel it?” you nodded eagerly, your face pressed close against his neck with your eyes sealed shut. “i’m gonna get you pregnant, kay? ‘gonna fill you up like its no tomorrow.. make my dreams come true. ‘can't wait to see my little ones inside you, honey.. i’ll take care of you.”

well.. it’s best to say that maybe he’s finally not gonna be the last of his kind any time soon.

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[tryagainenthusiast]

jeong jaehyun (n)sfw alphabet

mdni!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he’s alllll up on you, literally unable to disconnect himself from you. if he’s not holding you against his body, arms wrapped so tightly you start to think that your circulation is being cut, he’s following you around the house like a lost puppy. when you stand up to shower he jumps up to grab you a towel, and your clothes, continuing to pepper kisses across your shoulders and neck as you walk into the shower where he joins you and mumbling small compliments into your skin.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

what does he spend all that time in gym for if not to throw you around like you’re the weight of a feather? his favourite part of his own body is his muscles, only because he knows that you like them and when you are happy so is he. “happy wife happy life.” he secretly likes when you take a little longer to gaze at his biceps when he carries something heavy, or after going to the gym together; so feeling you grab onto his arms during sex stirs something up in him that he has never felt before.

its also a crime to say that jaehyun is anything but a boob man. don’t get me wrong, he appreciates a good ass (specifically yours), he enjoys an occasional slap, a hand softly placed on the curve of your ass just to touch you. but your boobs are on another level…his favourite thing to do is squish them at literally any moment he can. the sensation of the flesh filling out the spaces between his fingers is something he craves when he is away from you, not even just in a sexual way—but because it makes him feel close to you. and the fact that you would let him do that to you makes him feel a little soft inside. during sex though, they’re the second most viewed thing (the first being your pretty face); he’ll put them in his hands, his mouth, against his skin, you name it, he wants it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

apart from in you? he’s not a super fanatic of doing things with cum, just like any man he likes to see his cum all over your lips after you’ve given him a blowjob to use his fingers and swipe it across your lips like lip gloss. to be honest, most of all he likes to see the look on your face when he has your cum on his chin and nose, letting it glisten under the dim lights of your room.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

the thought of recording his own porno just for yours and his eyes really plagues his mind. every time you and him get intimate there is a little thought in the back of his head that wonders what it would look like from another person’s perspective, and the way that your little breaths and moans reverberate into the mic and speakers. being able to look back on videos whenever he pleases, whenever he misses you enamours him and is something he wishes to have. he’s a private person, it would never see the outside of your bedroom, and whenever a member tries to go through his phone he immediately snatches his phone out of their hand. he wouldn’t ask you to film a sex tape right from the get-go though, it would start subtly with a couple of sexts, then the exchanging of a couple nudes, then maybe having phone-sex when he’s abroad. he would only bring it up later into the relationship when he knows that you are enjoying doing things like this as much as he is.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

virgin? obviously not. extremely experienced sex master? also no. he knows what he’s doing, he knows the steps and what women generally enjoy. i mean, how can you go wrong with head? however, he’s in his element when he’s with you. being in a long term relationship with you means that he can get to know more than the surface, he knows ever single curve of your figure and where his hands fit perfectly, and what things get your face to flush and your lips to part. you give the experience he needs, and it only gets better the longer you are together because you get to explore different things that he and you like.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

apart from missionary, where he gets to see your face and all it’s little micro expressions, your boobs that are always nice to look at too obviously. its the fully package really, all within reach of his greedy hands. it gets better when you put your leg on his shoulder and he was some leverage to grab on to, and to turn his head to press his lips against your skin. he also likes the face off position, a more intimate cowgirl where he feels most connected to you. the skin-to-skin contact, being able to press worn out kisses all over your face and wrap his arms around your shoulders to bring you even closer to him while you ride him. the real deal.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

it can vary, when you first started dating he would try to act more serious because he would be overthinking everything and trying to make sure it felt good for you. he also wanted to seem like a serious candidate for you. but the more times that you get intimate, because he is the most unserious person at heart, he can’t help but letting a laugh slip sometimes. like, you haven’t ever laughed at a queef before????? it’s funny. also just the feeling of being so happy and so intimate with you, literally the closest two people can get can be overwhelming, in a good way, which makes laughing feel like the only right thing to do.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

it would be weird if that happy trail of his led to nothing, but its cleaned up, he takes care of himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

so romantic, he thinks that literally every movement of yours is the most beautiful thing ever, so graceful and so pretty. he likes to see the way your hands sometimes grip around the bedsheets, and to encase your hand with his to spread his warmth. his lips struggle to leave your skin, whether it be your lips, your neck, your jawline or anywhere where he can feel the goosebumps that riddle your skin and the sweetness of your natural scent. the lights in your room are always dim and there’s always a playlist of rnb playing quietly during it. he is able to romanticise every little movement and every noise, being with you is an experience on a different plane of existence and he wants to savour every single moment of it. he prefers to go slowly, lots of talking and smiling and giggling.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

when he’s away, he seems like the type to let you know that he is jerking off. he only resorts to doing so when you aren’t around and the whole time he’d be thinking of you. you’d be alone in your bed in the dead of night, sleeping on his side of the bed to smell his presence and then receive a text message. it wouldn’t be explicit or anything, something like “thinking of you right now” and you’d just know exactly what he was doing. he would never ask you to send nudes, but when you’re in the right mood you would send him something to usher him on.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

honestly, he doesn’t seem like a very kinky person, but he’d be willing to try new things for you. when you ask him to try using his tie as a blindfold he would say yes, and he would enjoy watching you squirm and twitch under him when he ghost his fingers along your body. he liked to slap your ass prior, but seeing the surprise mixed with pleasure when your eyes were covered was even more enjoyable. on his birthday, when you asked to blindfold him and give him his birthday surprise he was hesitant, but he trusted you enough to let you do that to him. he enjoyed it, but he thinks it’s because it was your hands that were touching him and heightening his senses, letting him focus on sensations that he had never before. so as long as it was something that you wanted to do, he’s just happy to take part—although i think he would draw the line at things that hurt you seriously.

i see him liking the idea of public sex too, not too public obviously. but cars and rooms that are separated only by paper-thin walls excite him. being able to make you moan and having the headboard creak only to just walk out of the room and act like nothing happened is amusing to him.

breeding kink????? are you joking? of course. he is just waiting for the day that the two of you are fully ready for a child, and you give him the green light to go all in. until then, he likes to play with fate and do it rawwwwww.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

other than in your bed, his favourite place is the couch in your living room. the atmosphere of the tv that usually plays in the back, shining different colours on your face from the movie that was long forgotten about. the blinds are usually slightly ajar, reflecting your profiles in the window that he likes to take a quick glance at, and playing up to the fact that someone could see the two of you—a picture perfect snapshot that he would capture with this film camera if he could.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

domestic girlfriend. homey girlfriend…should i continue? i know a pile of laundry hates to see him coming because it’s never actually going to be done. ever since moving in with you, the sight of you doing things that are ordinary have riled him up like he has never been before. the curve of your back when he watches you cook from the island in the kitchen, the old shorts and tank top you wear when there are no clean clothes left on a sunday, the way that you flip your hair and expose your neck when you are vacuuming. they help him envision a future where it is just the two of you forever, with hopefully a few kids running around which excites him more than you know.

even just the lazy days when you have been lying around all the couch the whole time, in your pyjamas can get him excited, because your cami is tight and you don’t wear a bra, and the way you eat food is attractive, and the way you drink is too, and so is the way you throw your exposed thigh over his lap when you’re getting comfortable on the couch. at any given moment when he is given the time to look at you for too long, he can imagine himself being all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

extreme kinks, he wouldn’t want to hurt you in any way. even if you were to suggest trying new things that are a bit more extreme, it would take a lot of convincing because he wouldn’t want the two of you to try something and then regret it. he’s open-minded, but cautious.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he gets pussy drunk so baddddd, literally dripping from the chin and back onto you when he eats it. he could go on for hours because the way that you moan out his name quite literally sounds like music to his ears. so much so that the first time he gave you head he came in his pants without you evening touching him, just from the way you were reaching out for his hair from above him, and breathing out his name. he only confessed it to you a year into your relationship in which you were so flattered you gave head just the way he likes it, which is definitely just as messy as him. he wants you to use his cum as lipgloss, and when you guide his hand into your hair. he isn’t a massive head pusher, only when you let him do it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

always slow, he doesn’t see the point of getting intimate if he isn’t able to have the whole experience. he enjoys foreplay, and wants to give you all the attention he has by going through the steps and focusing on every bit of you. even if he’s mad or frustrated he would still go slow, because he doesn’t want to take his anger out on you. instead, he likes the way the slowness calms him down and brings him back to his senses. and make-up sex after arguments would be even slower as he feels he has to relearn the little things about your body and wants to relish in the things he could’ve lost but thankfully didn’t. the only times that he would be fast would be the mornings before a flight abroad, and even though you two would have had sex the night before he just needs to do it one more time before leaving so he can remember the sensation when he is away from you. it would be quick because he doesn’t want to be late for his flight, and also because if you were to take your time he just wouldn’t leave.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not a massive fan. again, he just wouldn’t see the point when he can take his time with you, there’s no rush. although there are times when you’re together in a group setting, like on a vacation with friends and the sight of you is just so unbearably gorgeous he can’t resist pulling you into the room you share in the airbnb. and then you come out no more than ten minutes later, which is just enough time before people start to realise you’re missing.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not a massive experimenter, he likes to do what you like, to an extent.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he could on for hours, and sometimes he does. on the days that you look extra good, or have managed somehow to make him jealous even though he isn’t really a jealous person. but on a day to day basis 2-3 rounds is a happy medium, because he believes everything is better in moderation.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he would never buy a toy for himself or for you, but if you were to get gifted one from one of your friends as a joke, he would probably try it at least once.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

very subtly throughout the day, maybe very small gestures like his hand on the small of your back, or caressing your shoulders when you are talking to someone. if he were to tease you seriously, it would be more privately at home like if you were to have gotten some icing on your face from a cake you were eating, and he’d kiss it off you. he prefers to be teased rather than tease someone.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not super loud. he’s for sure not screaming or anything, but he does let out some breathy moans and groans. he’s more verbal when he’s having sex, like whispering words of praise and your name constantly. i think he could also let out an occasional whimper when something just feels too good, and his deep voice would crack under your actions.

W = Wild card (a random headcannon for the character)

shower sex. he’s obsessed. ever since you let him step into one of your showers and you turned around and kissed him with the warm water pouring over your heads like it was some sort of romcom he was hooked. you’re naked anyway, why not just have sex? he likes pressing you up against the glass door of the shower, and then seeing water that water that has condensed everywhere but the shape of your body. he also likes the steaminess that makes his eyesight a little hazy. it’s all very romantic and intimate to him. plus, you don’t need to get up to shower after sex because you’re already in there. even when you have regular sex in your bed, sometimes when you get up to shower it continues in there because it is all just too tempting for him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

yeah. biiiiig.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i don’t think he’s crazy by any means, he prefers simpler and more cute moments with you. don’t get me wrong though, he’s still definitely horny a lot. but he keeps it to himself most of the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

after a quick wash up he’s out like a light. snoring and everything. he’s worn out completely, there’s no chance for pillow talk when he’s already under the covers and pulling you into him to sleep.

[imshymorph]

So, even more soft!Price thoughts cause i wasn’t joking when i said he lives rent free in my mind. Specifically, it's more bedrest!Price.

You’ve been with him long enough to know that all the grunts and eye rolls are just a facade. Long enough to know what the soft looks he gives you in between mean. To notice the way his shoulders and jaw relax the moment you walk into the room.

And you know exactly what it means when he grunts and scratches his cheek, right where his beard is overgrown, and looks at you from the corner of his eye before going back to reading. You still find it amusing to pretend you don’t, mentally counting how many times he sighs and grunts as he gives you the side eye. Eventually you relent, lowering your own book to look at him.

“Hm, beard looks overgrown and itchy.” you comment causally, playing into his game.

You see, there’s times where he’ll just come to you, arm wrapping around your waist and head resting against yours as he murmurs something along the lines of “need your help with my beard, love.” But that’s when it’s on his terms, when he feels like being pampered and needs the grounding feeling that your soft and gentle touches provide.

It’s different when he’s on bed rest. When the bruising and stitches on his torso and side make every movement achy and painful. Now he doesn’t dare ask for it. It’s dumb, really. He knows you’d be more than happy to help him and he’d do this and more if the roles were reversed. But you already do so much, help him with pretty much any other thing he has to do.

And it feels wrong, because he should be the one taking care and pampering you. Filling the tub with warm water and those lavender salts that help you relax after a busy day. He should be the one scrubbing and massaging your body and scalp. It should be him bringing you breakfast to bed as he pulls you into his side and helps you get through it. He can’t ask more of you.

So when he just grumbles “it’s starting to be annoying, yes.” while still looking at his book (but absolutely not having turned the page for the last twenty minutes at least) you just play along.

“Should do something about it, then.” you say as your hand reaches for the bookmark resting on the coffee table, marking your page and leaving your book before going towards the bathroom.

“Don’t you dare come here until I come over to help you!” you call back from the bathroom. and his eyes widen a bit as he grabs his book again, his body relaxing back against the couch cushions after he had started to scoot forward to get up in the least painful way he could manage. (How did you even know, he was being so quiet).

That’s how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter, one of his hands on your hip and the other on your thigh as he stands between your legs. You carefully shave the overgrown patches, making sure to not reach too far into the already shaped mutton chops. Even more careful to not nick his skin. Small frown between your brows as you work in full concentration, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he notices the small wrinkle it creates.

When the brittle hair is properly shaped and his face rinsed from the foamy cream, you dry it with a towel before massaging the beard oil he always uses into his skin.

A pleased and proud smile forming on your lips after giving your work one last look. “there, all trimmed and handsome.”

Your smile only widens when his hand moves from resting on your thigh to cupping your cheek pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, love. Really needed that.” he says, lips brushing yours with every word before he gives you another kiss.

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (06)

chapter six: like lightning

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; mentions of sex, swearing, this chapter is also pretty mild in terms of warnings? the angst begins here tho !!! could've been more edited but yk lol word count: 4.9k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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If I never laid eyes on you Would I feel something missing? If you never laid eyes on me Would you know something’s gone?

Happy Accidents - Saint Motel

You don't know if you've ever changed, even once, in your life.

You feel like you're still 8 years old and your best friend is the neighbors' elderly dog that they let you play with every weekend. She's a golden retriever, and she would stand taller than you if she could walk on two legs.

You're still 16 and your happiest memories are of a boy who doesn't love you back. But all of your friends say that he does, and oh, how much you want to believe that their words are true.

And at the same time, you're 22, just a few months shy of 23, sitting in front of a canvas showcasing your own bleeding heart. Your growing pains, laid out by acrylics and gentle brush strokes. You liken yourself to the figure in front of you, the one that's standing in the corner of your painting, overlooking a sea of blues and grays. There's a piece of you that's left behind in everything you create. Sometimes, you leave it there on purpose, a memorabilia for your future self to look back at fondly.

You think of everything in your life that has changed and how you're the only thing that has managed to remain the same. The dog eventually dies and the boy moves on with his life. The passage of time is relentless but you seem to be the only one who can't keep up with the tireless flow. You're always running in place, always stuck behind in the end. There's a past in which you still live, one where you don’t know if you'll ever make it out of.

You think of home and the search comes up empty, like it does every single time. Home isn't here inside of your own body, nor is it within the four walls of your childhood bedroom. You've never felt like you belong anywhere. Everything is always fluctuating, constantly and unabatingly spinning and spinning and spinning when all you're asking for is a minute to stand still and catch your breath.

Home isn't always a place, that much you know. Maybe home isn't even a thing that you build but something that you find, in a person or a touch, in a feeling or a scent. Perhaps that's the problem, isn't it? Home is something you find, and you've spent your whole life searching.

People say your early 20s are supposed to be the best years of your life but that sentiment has never resonated with you. These are the years that you spend in excruciating limbo, where you're not an adult but you're forced to be anyway. The years where loneliness is an invisible friend that shadows you day in and day out, a presence you don’t want around but can't seem to shake off, a haunting that's far too gentle to be considered such. These aren't your best years; these are your saddest years.

None of it helps build character. It just hurts.

It hurts. You accept that it hurts. You keep on living, always accompanied by the hurt. At some point, it stops bothering you as much; you've grown numb to the way it stings, but it doesn't mean that there aren't days where you're pierced with a sudden and debilitating hollowness in your chest.

Here you are, half an adult but still a child, wondering if you know anything more than you did when you were 8.

You just want to go home, but you don't know where home is.

You look at the small pool of yellow acrylic paint that's been sitting on your palette for a while now. It feels so out of place among the other insipid tones, even though that has always been your intention - a burst of life amidst a sea of blues.

You don't think about anything in particular when your fingers pick up a brush and dab it in a generous amount of paint. It doesn't make much sense, but it feels right. You don't think about anything in particular when your hand smears the color on the cavas, on the figure, a startling stroke right in the center of her chest, contrasting all of the dulls and darkness surrounding.

Though, you do think of him afterward. Of him and daffodils and spring.

The rest of your friends are already present when you and Felix show up at Chan and Jess' shared apartment, holding boxes of pizzas and a case of beer.

It's a cute tradition that was started last year, when all of you promised to gather the final Friday of every month to have a cozy little dinner party among yourselves. It usually takes place at Chan's, since his apartment is bigger than the rest of yours, and because him and Jess are practically the parents of the group anyway.

The second you step into the living room, a chorus of groans erupts all around. Hyunjin and Jisung are the most vocal petulant babies, pouting from their seats, complaining that you two took too long and that they've been starving for hours.

You and Felix shrug off your jackets before delegating the tasks to the lot of them, since you were in charge of picking up the food for tonight. Minho and Seungmin grabbing plates and cups from the kitchen for Changbin and Jeongin to set on Chan's large coffee table.

You opt for a seat on the carpeted floor, next to the spot on the cream-colored couch where Minho left his phone, feeling more comfortable this way since the table is a little low for your liking. They come back a few minutes later, and you smile up at Minho when he reclaims his seat on the couch.

"Hi." He smiles back, smoothing a hand over your hair in greeting.

"Hi," you say. Even a touch so simple warms you up from the outside chill you were in mere minutes ago. No one else notices his lingering hand on you, or it's just such a you and Minho thing to be mildly affectionate with each other that the others don't care to comment on anymore.

You all fall into easy conversation soon after everyone starts digging in, chatting amongst yourselves as you always do. You and Hyunjin lament about your respective projects, reiterating the frustration that you've already expressed through your texts for the zillionth time. Chan and Jess nag Jeongin about introducing his girlfriend to the group, to which the younger one responds with an exaggerated groan as one would when their parents ask about grandchildren, though he does placate them by promising to bring her along the next time there's a party.

You don't care enough to tune into Minho's conversation with Changbin and Felix about the new gym they started going to. You do, however, catch Changbin's attempt to tease Minho. A playful scoff, followed by, "Minho lost his abs ages ago."

Your response is automatic and therefore, it doesn't warrant much thought from you before the words are tumbling out of your mouth. "No, he has abs. They're still there."

You don't recognize the weight of your words until you notice all chatter has halted, and you look up to find all eyes on you.

"How do you know that?" Jeongin is the one to voice everyone's collective thought, puzzled, a little surprised.

"Yeah, isn't Minho notoriously weird about that stuff?" Felix adds.

You blink in a daze, and you don't know if your face is reddening because of embarrassment but you sure hope that it isn't. The mouthful you're munching on gives you a reason to stall, your reputation of being a slow eater makes the excuse more believable when you don't answer right away.

As subtly as you can, you nudge Minho's leg with an elbow. He just laughs, though you're pretty certain he can tell that you're internally freaking out.

"I was walking her home from class a few weeks ago and we got caught in the rain. She let me come up to her apartment to change," he says calmly.

You remember that day. He was walking you from campus back to yours, so that part was true. But it didn't start raining until you were both sheltered in the comfort of your apartment, with him on top of you as he fucked you nice and slow on the couch. You didn't know when the rain stopped, but it must've been some time during your shower that you offered him to join with the innocent intention of cleaning yourselves up and saving water, only for him to end up on his knees with his face between your legs and his fingers buried deep inside of you. He'd made you come three times that afternoon, then took you out to udon afterward.

"And you just... changed in the middle of her living room or something?" Changbin asks, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Minho shrugs, completely nonchalant. "Yeah."

The silence in the room persists as you swallow down the bite. Their stare lingers on the pair of you, then they turn to look at each other like they're speaking a secret language that you're unfamiliar with. Why is it such a scandalous thing for you to see Minho without a shirt? You've seen your other guy friends shirtless numerous times before, when all of you are hanging out in someone's apartment on particularly hot summer days.

Though, they aren't wrong. The arrangement between the two of you muddles your memory, but you don't really remember seeing Minho flaunt his bare skin often before.

You're about to squeeze out a weak response to aid Minho's explanation, but your friends just start nodding along in acceptance.

"I guess that makes sense. If there's anyone who would see him naked, it'd be Y/N."

This definitely makes you blush. Minho laughs again.

"What?! I did not see him naked."

Well, look who's a liar now?

"Y/N, and whoever he's banging," Hyunjin supplies, which seriously doesn't help the flush on your cheeks at all.

"Why would it make sense that it was me?" you protest.

"Because you're his favorite." Jess is the one who answers, to which the rest of your friends all hum in agreement. The way they're reacting makes it seem as though it's just a fact of life that you're Minho's favorite, and that whatever boundary he lets you cross or whatever rule he breaks when it comes to you is simply a result of this fact.

Not once has it crossed your mind that everyone might have a favorite person in the group, but now that it's been said, you quickly conclude that Minho would be your favorite too (your secret arrangement notwithstanding.)

You glance up at him, seeking reassurance with a curious blink. "Am I?"

"You're alright," is what he tells you in lieu of a confirmation. "The least annoying one."

And you don't know if it's the way he speaks ever so gently when he looks at you or how his lips curl up in a knowing smile that sends a tingle of warmth down your spine. Or perhaps the culprit is the softness in his sharp eyes that makes you a little dizzy, makes a pair of butterflies go rampant at the pit of your stomach, as though they're prepared to soar when the ardor of spring begins to thaw the winter frost.

Chan laughs, "That's practically a declaration of love from Minho."

At one point, Hyunjin looks around and comments with a mouth stuffed full of pizza, "Wow. We are literally perfectly divided."

All eyes fall onto him, clearly no one is catching his drift.

Hyunjin swallows his food and washes it down with a big sip of beer before gesturing vaguely at the group, "All the singles are on the floor."

You look at the people on the couch while they stare back at you, Hyunjin, Seungmin, Changbin and Felix sitting comfortably on the fluffy rug.

"I'm single," Jisung says, pointing at himself. "Should I get on the floor?"

"No, you're not," Seungmin says flatly.

"What?"

"Didn't you get back together with your ex girlfriend?"

"What?" Jisung practically squeaks out. "Man, what are you talking about?"

"I live with you. We literally share a wall. I heard you last week. The whole two hours."

“You were home?!”

"My shoes were by the door. I had dishes in the sink. I went to the bathroom to pee several times."

Jisung gasps, growing redder and redder as more eyes start diverting their attention to him. He opens his mouth only to promptly close it as he thinks of what to say. Repeats the process a few times. "We didn't hear you. You never said anything," is what he settles on stuttering out. Then, "Why didn't you bring it up? Why do you have to air out my dirty laundry now?"

"It's more entertaining to embarrass you in front of everyone." Seungmin shrugs, and ignores Changbin's subsequent comment calling him a pervert. "And no wonder you didn't hear me. You were going at it like you were rabid."

"Wait," Jeongin says, "when did you even get back together?"

"We didn't. It's complicated! We're just… y'know…"

When Jisung trails off sheepishly with the bright blush still apparent on his cheeks, Minho cuts in, finishing his sentence bluntly, "Boning."

You send him a glare from where you're seated on the floor, to which he just gives you a lopsided grin and nudges you with his knee.

While everyone else is busy bombarding Jisung with questions on potentially getting back together with his ex, Minho quietly slithers down to the floor like a stealthy cat, squeezing himself into the space between you and Felix. Minho rests his arm behind you on the couch, leaving it stretched out comfortably on the cushions, just lightly touching your back. Usually, when you two are alone, he would have his arm wrapped around your shoulders so he could pull you close, until you're safely tucked into his side where you would remain on most of your evenings spent together. But for now, he leaves his arm where it grazes you only slightly as you sit among friends, with the exception of his hand reaching to play with your hair once in a while.

"Hey!" Hyunjin practically screeches, pointing at Minho when he notices. "Why did you get on the floor?"

"What?" Minho asks innocently. "You said the singles are on the floor."

"You're not single. You have a girlfriend."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Hyunjin scoffs. "You have a sneaky link."

"Hmm, not the same as a girlfriend."

"Why can't you just tell us, man? There's gotta be something else you're hiding."

You stay quiet, still as a statue while they bicker back and forth, like the mere motion of your breathing could give your secret away. You don't doubt that Hyunjin has been hounding Minho about his new discovery ever since the night of Yeonjun's party, but Minho seems unfazed about it, evading Hyunjin's badgering with a calm composure that's distinct to no one else.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, quickly shuffling away as if your absence at the table would help make things seem less suspicious for Minho. You splash some water on your face, wait for a while until it feels like an appropriate amount of time has passed for them to have already moved onto another topic. You are, quite literally, hiding from your own friends.

Moments later, you re-enter the room with gentle footsteps and a certain tension in your spine, but you soon grow relieved when you find that the conversation has somehow shifted to Seungmin and his on-again off-again not-girlfriend, about which he just seems kinda sad for a few seconds before he's telling everyone to fuck off and mind their own business, always quick to conceal any and all emotions. He's similar to you in that way, you suppose.

You sit back down next to Minho who's still on the floor, though you put a little distance between your bodies that wasn't previously there. You don't know if it's enough to be noticeable, but he does look at you for a brief moment before leaning a bit closer, asking softly so only you could hear, "Walk you home later?"

You embark on the familiar route from Chan and Jess' place back to yours. It's not that late, barely even 10PM on a Friday night, but the streets are almost deserted. Barely anyone tipsily roaming the streets with their friends in tow; just a few cars passing by every now and then. You relish in the peace and quiet, sighing softly to yourself as you walk in the crisp evening air.

Minho takes casual strides next to you, letting his hand brush against your hand for a while until his pinky finds its way around yours. The tranquility of the city is nice, but being with Minho is even nicer.

Just some of the stars have come out to play, though the way they gleam and glimmer is enough to make up for what they lack in numbers. It's easy to get lost tonight, when you're looking up at an infinite sky with little light and only Minho's pinky hooked around yours like an anchor to guide you back home.

In the grand scheme of things, you're just a speck of dust. You're young and confused - 23 is still a child in your mind - and most of all, you're insignificant. Not in a self-disparaging way. Maybe in the literal sense of the word would be more accurate.

You are insignificant, merely a face among billions of faces. In a crowd of hundreds, or maybe only dozens, you're not someone who would stand out and be picked. Sometimes, it's nice to blend right in and hide in plain sight; you don't particularly enjoy being under the spotlight anyway. But sometimes, it's lonely to be just a drop in the ocean. You could sink right to the bottom and no one would even notice.

Maybe that's why you enjoy being around Minho so much. He makes you feel safe, and seen, like you matter in the end. He makes you feel like if you were to disappear one day, there's a person out there who would go to the ends of the earth in search of you.

You hope that he sticks around, that he wants to be in your life for as long as you can have him. You're not sure what it is that makes you sick to your stomach at the mere thought of losing him; perhaps because you know you will never come across another one like Minho in your lifetime. There's nobody else that can make you feel the same way he does.

I don't want to lose you. You're the only good thing I have.

An intersection, two left turns, and your apartment building comes into view all too soon.

"Wanna come up?" you ask bashfully. The streetlights do a good job at masking your light flush.

"I can't tonight," he says, a little apologetic. "I'm going to my parents' house first thing in the morning."

"Oh." You're disappointed for no specific reason. Sure, you were practically glued to Minho's side for most of the evening, but you were also surrounded by the very friends who are unaware that you two have been sneaking around behind their backs. It's been about over a week since you hung out with him alone, which isn't that long ago by any means, but still. "For the weekend?"

"Yeah, just for the weekend."

There's a selfish urge, just a tiny one, to ask him to come for a while anyway, maybe only twenty minutes or so, but you swallow it down and wave it away. "Okay, have fun. Say hi to the cats for me."

"I'll send you pictures," he tells you. "They miss you, y'know."

You smile at that, laughing a little. "They've met me once."

Last fall, you and your friends all took a weekend trip to Minho's childhood home for his birthday. It was fun for you, though you're not sure how much his parents actually enjoyed it, considering they had to house and feed almost a dozen kids that weren't their own. You remember the cats, of course you do, and how Soonie took an immediate liking to you, how he mostly hovered around your personal space whenever you were in the house.

"No, seriously. My mom says Soonie meows your name once a day."

You throw him an eye roll, accompanied by a light punch to his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Min," you say. "Text me when you get home."

"Okay."

Even after that, the two of you still stay rooted to the spot, your pinkies interlocked. Minho's gaze doesn't leave your face, and for a moment there, it feels like most of the stars didn't show up because they all left to gather in his eyes.

"Can't go up if you don't let me,” you quip, glancing at your hands, knowing full well that you can easily retract your finger if you want to.

His eyes stay on you for just a moment longer. "Let me kiss you," he asks softly, releasing your pinky only to take your hand in his, tugging you closer until you’re all up in each other's personal space.

You blink at him, your heart caught somewhere in your throat. You're close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off his body. "Min…" you murmur but you don't actually know what you want to tell him, so the nickname hangs like an idle lantern in the bubble of space between your faces.

"Just a goodnight kiss."

"Friends don't kiss," you say meekly, reminiscent of your conversation over a week ago.

"Friends don't have sex either," he repeats.

"But we’re not having sex."

"You asked me to come upstairs. What do you think we would've done?"

And he's right. If he had agreed to come up, then you would probably be pressed against the door right now, with his hands trailing down your body, removing every article of clothing they find, his lips kissing every exposed patch of skin along the way.

Minho would've been kissing you regardless - anywhere and everywhere, and you wouldn't have had any qualms about it like you do right now, even though you want to kiss him too.

"Maybe I wanted you to come up to make you peel tangerines for me while we watch a movie."

He says nothing to that, only grins amusedly and leans in to nudge his nose against yours. It's so cute that you can't help but mirror the quirk of his lips. You're sure that no one else gets to see this version of him - the one that boops you like an overly affectionate cat and smiles like you're his favorite person not just in your little group, but in the whole wide world.

"I haven't kissed you all week," he murmurs, his voice so gentle in the quietude that surrounds you. "You were right there but I couldn't kiss you all night."

You lose yourself in his brown eyes, the same eyes that hold nothing but sincerity and fondness for you. The stars here are brighter than the ones overhead.

"Let me kiss you," Minho says, "please?"

You cave. Of course you do.

The first glide of his lips over yours has you weak in the knees. Something sinks in as he kisses you deeply. Under the streetlights, not surrounded by your familiar four walls like a long lost secret but out in the open where anyone can see, even though there's not a single soul around.

Tears well up behind your eyelids the same way they did that morning you woke up next to him for the first time. You don't know what it is, never felt this way around anyone except for him. It's akin to the feeling of finally coming home after being away for a long time, or at least that's what you think that's how it would feel.

You don't want to be caged in by the walls of your own making. You want to be seen, and you want to be seen by him. You're the remnants of snow and ice stuck between cracks in the sidewalk, and he is warmth. You're a mosaic of a daffodil garden caught in an endless winter, and he is spring. Minho is the brief but wonderful moment when cherry blossoms have yet to fall from their branches, but green leaves are already growing impatiently, resulting in the beautiful coexistence of pinks and greens if only just for a few days.

You let him kiss you until you're both out of breath, let him wrap his strong arms around your body and hold you like he could mend all of your broken pieces. Maybe he could. Maybe you'd like him to make you whole again.

When Minho pulls away, he doesn't stray very far. He puts enough distance between your faces so you can catch your breath. But even then, you have a hard time getting air back into your lungs. He's looking at you like he would pick the moon for you if you asked, like moving mountains is no more difficult than peeling tangerines for you whenever you get a craving.

The streetlights are dim, but the stars in his eyes are bright enough to tell you something that his words don't.

It hits you all at once, in a moment where even the wind is still, as if it's been reduced to a mere spectator, watching the two of you with bated breath on the sidelines. The tipping point can be something as simple as him asking - almost pleading - to kiss you goodnight with no ulterior motive, no other intention than because he wants to. As though it would kill him if he had to go another minute without kissing you.

You realize why he's the yellow to your sea of blues, why you're so happy every time you look at the bracelet on your wrist. You realize why you feel so safe around him, why he makes you experience emotions that no one else can. You realize why you don’t like hearing about Hana, or any other person in the same sentence as his name with the implication that he could be romantically involved with them.

You realize why you kissed him for the first time all those months ago, and it wasn't because you were sad and he just happened to be there and let you cry on his shoulder. The times that your friends would tell you how you and Minho would be perfect together - you wanted it to be true. You knew it was true - that he was someone you could love, the only person who's worth opening up to. You kissed him because you wanted to love him. You realize why it made you soar when he kissed you back, because you wanted him to love you too.

You realize why the thought of losing this friendship terrifies you. You realize why you asked him to stay that night after the party and the club, even though you had never allowed him to sleep over before. You realize why the other week you let him only kiss you and nothing else, and you realize why your heart is hammering in your chest this very second, why your knees are weak, why you can't really breathe here in the middle of an empty street under a moonless sky, just because he's looking at you as if it's not the sun that the earth revolves around but rather, it's a girl who has never learned how to say what she means.

You're good at leaving things alone; it's a skill that you've unintentionally mastered over the years. Nothing has to change if you let it remain the same. And yet, the one exception always seems to be Minho, and you're a mirror of yourself when you're with him. You like the version of you that only he's able to bring out, and he does it effortlessly every time. He pulls happiness out of you so easily that it's hard to ignore what you feel for him, hard to convince yourself that what you harbor for him is still only platonic affection.

It comes bubbling up to the surface without your permission. It strikes you the same way lightning splits open the whole sky on a cloudless night, abrupt and unmistakeable. Love isn't something that you've ever come close to, and you have always been an unbeliever when people answer "You just know," in response to "How do you know when it is love?"

Though as you stand right here, right now, you think maybe this is what love is supposed to look like, personified with starry eyes and shallow dimples when he smiles.

Before he leaves, Minho presses another sweet kiss to your cheek. You're still dazed by the dawning, overwhelmed by the recognition that you can only mutter a stupid "Bye," when he bids you good night.

As you watch him go, there's something else you realize, almost tragically, that you've always been a ruiner. You run away the moment shit starts getting too real, even if it means letting beautiful things slip through your fingers like running water.

Love just isn't something you've ever learned to hold.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 15.04.2024]

[mtchee]

Silence is Silver, Your Voice is Gold - [Tamaki Amajiki] SOULMATE SERIES | GN

blurb:

As your schools decide to team up for a term long integration project, you're eager to prove your worth as an aspiring young hero. LOUD AND PROUD! That's who you are! So when you're paired with none other than one of U.A's Big Three, Tamaki Amajiki, your heart shatters when he flinches away from you before you can even utter a word. He gives you a brief, stammered apology--and that's when you realise that maybe, just maybe, your dearly fated had been a cruel mistake. Your own soulmate is terrified of you without even knowing you. So perhaps, it's for the best that you pipe down and let him find someone else to better suit his needs.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, tamaki is a sweetheart, [name] is outgoing and loud, minor angst, fluff!!!, mentions of two non-canon side characters, smitten [name], anxious but doting tamaki, ugh [name] and tamaki are so cute smh, idk how i feel abt the ending i hope it's okay T-T

| masterlist | boku no hero academia collection |

[3.2k]

"U.A, HERE WE COME!"

"Shut up, [name]," One of your classmates, Kaori, scrunches his nose at you disdainfully, "you're the reason no one talks to us."

"What..."

Karina, his sister, snorts while you deflate, "It's okay to be excited, [name]. Ignore him. Let's show U.A what we're made of!" She fist pump the air to distract you, and it evidently works when you copy her with a happy whoop.

All third-year hero course students have been gathered to battle ground A and B where they would mingle with the other school's class.

One of the teachers, Miss Midnight, claps her hands and swiftly garners the attention of each student.

"Alright, everybody~" She grins widely with lidded eyes, "time to pair you off with a new buddy! Don't be shy now~ We'll be calling out your names and pitting you against another duo. Now-"

You bound your way over to a tall, spiky eared U.A. student who stands with hunched shoulders and a lowered head once your name is called. Just moments prior you saw him with two others, a broad set blond and a pretty aqua toned girl, both of whom nudged him in your direction before heading to their own partners.

Oh! How cool! He's one of the big three in U.A!

Excitement courses through you at the prospect of working with him, after all, you're not bad yourself!

Taking ground beside him, you stick out a hand and take in a breath before your heroic introduction--when he flinches away at your sudden movement.

A squeak escapes him and he quickly puts more distance between you. Before you can even blink, he's bowed sharply by the waist, murmuring trembling apologies at how your loudness had startled him--but the ringing in your ears has long since drowned him out.

Your wide smile sits stiff on your lips, features frozen as a cold wave drenches you at the feeling of your soul words tingling on your right shoulder.

He's... I-I scared him..? Your heart shatters at the realisation that in your boister, he's never once lifted his head to look at you, and you notice him trembling ever so slightly.

I'm... my soulmate's scared of me..? And then a hopeful thought crosses your mind, oh! I'll just be quiet then! Then he'll like me, right?!

Instead of replying to his flurry of apologies, you take a step back as to respect his space and bring your outstretched hand down to your side. You mimick his bow, smile softening as to not seem so overbearing.

When your shadow moves, Amajiki shakily glances up, eyes wobbling when you stand upright again and make an effort to give him a small, hurried wave, as though restraining your energy.

Ah! Yes! He's looking at me now! You positively beam, aura brightening tenfold and he looks panicked, swiftly diverting his anxious gaze. R-Right, you sweatdrop to yourself, keep it toned down...

"You're so quiet, it's weird," Kaori deadpans, eyeing you skeptically from across the lunch table as he sips through the straw of his milk box.

You look up from your half bitten chicken katsu sandwhich, cheeks buldging with food, "you fink sho?"

He grimaces at you, disgusted, "chew your food first, scrub."

You pay him mind, chewing thoroughly and swallowing before speaking again, "I met my soulmate today! He doesn't like loud things though, so I'm practicing."

"Practicing..?"

Karina gasps, dropping her chopsticks in her udon, "Wait--you met your soulmate!?" You bark a laugh at her incredulous look, the noise loud and reverberating.

"Yeah!" Feeling giddy, you take another big, aggressive bite of your sandwhich to quell it, "he's shoooooo cute!"

"I said chew, you neaderthal!" Kaori pegs his empty milk box at you, at his wits end with your brash manner. His sister retaliates by throwing her full one at him, and he yelps, barely dodging it and it goes scattering across the floor behind him.

"We were talking!" She hisses before turning back to you with sparkles in her eyes, "really!? Ohmygod, what's he like?!"

You barely open your mouth before someone interrupts.

"Hey there!" The large blond from before stands at the end of your table with a wave in greeting. A sheepish smile sits in his face at having disturbed your conversation, "hah! Sorry, mind if we joined you for lunch?"

"Hi, Mirio!" Karina smiles back, "sure! The more the merrier." She ignores her twin brother's protesting grumbles, "[name], this is Mirio, he's my collaboration partner this term."

Behind the broad blond pokes out a recognisable head of wavy aquamarine hair, and Kaori grumbles even more, sinking low into his seat with a grumpy frown.

"Oh, hey! Kaori!" The girl gasps happily, bounding over to steal the seat beside him, "what a coincidence, huh?" She giggles.

The dark haired male rolls his eyes, "More like a curse..."

She turns to you, ignorant to his brooding, "Hihi~ I'm Nejire Hado! How cool! Kaori and I were partnered up too! Oh, and that's Tamaki Amijiki!"

When a familiar head of indigo hair is forcibly thrust into the centre of attention, your face erupts with warmth and an ecstatic smile quickly crosses your lips. You perk up in your seat with a gasp, though you swiftly silence yourself and instead give an aggresively friendly wave.

The elf eared student only really glances up at the table briefly before his nerves get the best of him, and his back hunches lower. He sends an acknowledging nod in your direction though, and your heart skips a beat.

Karina looks at you worriedly at your sudden silence, though your excitement is extremely palpable. She can practically see the giddy flowers dancing around you. Kaori couldn't care less.

"Oh, [name], do you already know Amijiki-san?" You nod frantically, and that's when it clicks for her. Karina's mouth drops and the looks between you and the former, and her eyebrows raise in understanding.

"A-Ah..! He's your project partner?"

"Wow! What a coincidence, huh?" Mirio gasps, bouyed by the revelation, "we promise to do our very best!"

"Us too!" Karina fist pumps the air, you copying with a happy mhmph! Nejire giggles, leaning in to participate while Amajiki trembles in the corner.

Kaori rolls his eyes at the amount of sunshine in the group, "riiiight..."

Over the following weeks, your school and U.A. continue to work together, occasionally switching partners in combat training to simulate on-sight collaboration with other heroes you'd meet on field.

Though for the majority, you worked with Amajiki. He's strong, incredibly so.

His usual demeanour would've had you underestimating him if you hadn't been paying attention. But particularly since he was your soulmate, you knew he was powerful from the get go. You want to be just as strong.

You like being around Amijiki; he's quiet, but he's very observant. He doesn't really talk to you all that much outside of training, though sometimes you tail him around break time and he doesn't seem to mind.

That, or he's too scared to tell you off.

Hm.

He cares though! Like that one time where you were sparring Mirio, you were awed by the the power of his quirk--the power that he gave his quirk, and simultaneously overwhelmed by it. You were fired up from the challenge, determination burning in your eyes, and you spent the remainder of the day pushing yourself.

That same energy pushed you throughout that week, and by the end of it, you were burning yourself out. You didn't let it stop you though, testing the limits of both your quirk and physical capabilities even when others retired for the day.

You hardly gave your bruises the time to heal, only slapping on a salve when you let yourself have a water break before getting back to it again.

In-class training had you beaming beside him as you worked together, though he noticed you tanking too much all at once.

Eventually, he mustered up the courage to look you in the eyes with a fearsome glare and sat you down with some mineral water and tasty snacks from his vest. Then he deflated and apologised in a panic before scurrying off to get Recovery Girl to see you before you moved.

You repaid him in a flurry of grateful bows and a bag of some of your favourite treats that you forcefully thrust into his hands before running off.

You never directly spoke to him, knowing you often had a hard time controlling your volume. So, you settled for vast, obvious movements--like a big game of charades.

You made sure to keep this up at lunchtimes too, where you'd talk boisterously with the twins before immediately silencing yourself as soon as Amajiki came into your sights. And you'd always greet him with an elated smile and a frantic wave.

Mirio and Nejire are quick to catch on to your switch ups, where you happily explain: "Amajiki-kun doesn't like a lot of loud noises, so I've been practicing on quieting down."

They looked rather confused while you hummed, unbothered, and then excused yourself to brush up on your training. You didn't think anything of it, they're his friends after all! Of course he doesn't mind them being loud.

Besides, he's warming up to you now! Just, slowly.

Very slowly.

By the end of the term, most of your energy has dwindled, and the signature light in your eyes has hazed over.

You've immersed yourself in your training, tossing yourself into the throes of it all with minimum breaks as a means to extend your limits. With every new task, you volunteer to be the first. When there's a new optional training segment, you're up at the crack of dawn, rearing to go.

Your drive has always been phenominal, but it's gotten dangerously extensive.

"[name]?" Mirio and Amajiki spot you on training ground B way before the day's classes even begin. You perk up at the sound of your name, seeing them in turn and grinning widely, waving them an obnoxious greeting.

Mirio smiles back, though Amajiki's brows crinkle upward worriedly.

"The day's barely started yet, you know? You're here early."

You can't help but give Mirio a sheepish grin and a shrug, your skin glossed over with a thin layer of sweat from exertion.

"...Have.. have you eaten yet?" Amajiki's quiet question has your gaze snapping towards him; he doesn't flinch away this time. You beam inwardly at that.

You give a polite shake of your head, no, and then wave off their looks of concern with a fluid gesture of your hand--you'll pick up something later.

Everyone notices you dozing at lunchtime, your presence not as exuberant as usual. Your motions aren't quite as energetic, and sometimes you stare off into space with glazed eyes. Kaori chalks it up to an off day, and Karina reluctantly agrees.

But then the pattern continues, and your light seems to dim while your silence grows dull.

You look... sad.

It's nothing you won't be able to get over though! At least, that's what you're trying to convince yourself. Gradually, over weeks of silent pining, you've come to realise that--maybe, it's useless after all.

Since meeting Amajiki, you've done everything you could think of to get him to like you a little more.

While before you were loud, you're quiet now!

And everyone likes friendly people, you don't see yourself as someone mean, so you've made sure to be as approachable as possible.

He often startles at your sudden movements, so you've taken to bottling your energy and restraining your movements to more gentle, fluid motions.

Sometimes, when you smile a bit too brightly, you noticed he'd turn around or look away, so instead, you'd cover your mouth and crinkle your eyes--that way, he'd still know that you're happy without having to see such an uncomfortably wide smile.

Oh, and he'd get all red and uncomfy when you subconsciously lean into his space, stumbling over his words with a trembling frown, so you try and place yourself away now--you know he likes his own space.

But... he still doesn't seem to like you all that much.

Maybe the whole soulmate thing was a mistake this time around. He still looks away when you smile at him, and he turns away and shakes even when you sit across from him.

Amajiki will talk to you during training, but only really because he has to since you're partners.

You must just not be his kind of person, you think. You've always been told that you're a bit too much, so, you guess they're not really wrong.

Wow, you must look so silly following after him like a puppy, when he's clearly trying to keep his distance.

Amajiki is shy and quiet; he's determined, but thoughtful. He's powerful, but gentle.

While you're loud and shameless; excitable, but stubborn. You're kind, but impulsive.

Amajiki is everything that you're not, and you see that now. Despite your will to change, you'll never be what he needs. You think, he'll want someone who's more subtle. Headstrong, but understanding. He'd like someone who can stand strong, but isn't overbearing--someone who can calm his nerves and help him see the positive in things with a gentle tone.

You respect Amajiki. It's why you still refer to him so formally while the others have given you permission to call them by their given names. He hadn't given you explicit consent to either, so you suppose it makes sense anyway.

There's only a couple weeks left in the term.

You don't mind staying silent now, there's nothing to say. The light in your eyes isn't the same anymore, and any remainder of your energy only trickles into your presence.

You like listening to Amajiki talk. He doesn't say a lot, but when he does you like to listen. That's a perk to your silence, you suppose. If you were still as loud, you probably wouldn't hear him.

"Um, [name]..?" Amajiki tugs you aside after conjoined training in one of your remaining weeks, "a-are you okay? It's just, you've been... kind of quiet, recently..."

Quiet? That's a good thing, right? You perk up hopefully, though it shatters just as quick as it comes. When you look up, Amajiki's features a curved into a frown.

Right, nevermind. Don't be so stupid. You make sure not to look him in the eyes when you give him a carefully placed smile--not too wide, so it won't scare him away, but not too subtle so you look ungrateful--and nod your head softly.

"You-..-you used to talk a lot, y-you know," his shaky voice stops you in your tracks after you turned to head to your next session, "at least, you did more before I showed..."

Your brows pinch in concern at the hitch in his voice, and you look back to see him with a bowed head, nervously clutching the fabric of his hero costume. His shoulders are tense, trembling with the urge to run, but he steels himself.

"U-Um..." and then he glances up, eyes connecting with yours and he forces himself to stay. His pupils dilate, and he gasps sharply, lips thinning. He swallows anxiously, and then furrows his brows in determination.

"If I've done something to offend you, I-I'm so sorry..! But... I'm..-w-we're all really worried about you." Amajiki bows his head, resolve wavering and he's unable to retain eye contact, "and... I'm really worried about you... it's just, you haven't been the same, fo-for a while."

Oh. Your heart drops, so it really was all for nothing. You hum softly, looking off to the side dejectedly before deciding well, it doesn't matter anyway.

"I like you, Amajiki-kun," Your words have him snapping his head up, eyes impossibly wide while his left calf tingles, "um, I'm not... speaking too loud, am I?"

Your voice rings like a melody to his ears despite your nervous tone. At his stunned silence, your heart pangs painfully inside your chest, and you swallow thickly. Your head lowers, "sorry... I shouldn't have said anything."

"What?" The sharpness of his tone startles you, and when you look up again, shocked, and he looks just as surprised. He carries on nontheless, softer, though with an unusual firmness.

"You... why shouldn't you have said anything?" Amajiki looks pained as he repeats your words, "do you... you don't want--"

"No!" You interrupt, wide eyed at his doubt, "I-I just mean that, it'd be easier that way. And you wouldn't have to deal with such a noisy soulmate, and you could find someone you'd like-"

"W-Who are you to determine who I like?" He stands straighter now, his voice holding a certain finality that you find hard to refute.

I'm your soulmate! Is what you find you want to say, but the words die in your mouth at the hypocrisy of it.

Amajiki's gaze is fierce and unwavering, and you feel both honoured and fearful. This may be the longest he's looked at you for.

"You've known for so long, an-and were willing to leave me after this? Without me knowing?" He takes in a shaky breath, fist whitening with a grip exuding both his frustration and worry.

"You're my soulmate... m-my soulmate," he sounds awed at the fact, "...I've been waiting to hear your voice--for months, you know," his voice cracks, and it seems his courage has started to dissipate as his shoulders shrink. His cheeks flush pink from his admittance.

"I... You've been so friendly since we were partnered up. And, y-you get along so well with everyone... I got scared that you wouldn't like me because I was too... too quiet for you."

Your world stops at that. He thought what?

"I-I mean," he panics, "you were always laughing with your friends, an-and then we started hanging out and you didn't say much but you were always smiling, and then whenever you looked at me it'd make me too nervous, and when I get nervous I'm kinda sweaty so I look away. B-But then you started covering your smile, and I didn't know why, and then I felt bad because I wasn't seeing it anymore, and you started overexerting yourself so I got even more worried and then--"

"Amajiki-kun-" A bright smile had crept onto your face during his panicked ramble, and a familar red hue bursts onto his cheeks and he clenches his eyes shut. God, it's so obvious now!

"--and you don't even call me by my name," he almost seems to whine, pulling down the hood of his costume to hide. He starts trembling again, and you can't help but gasp before cooing at him.

"You want me to call you by your name?" Your eyes sparkle, and suddenly your light have been rejuvenated, "Tamaki?"

The male stiffens before slowly nodding, peeking out from beneath his hood with lidded eyes and wobbly lips. He can only make eye contact briefly before shying away--and it seems all your worries were for naught.

When you squeal and beam, clapping your hands excitedly, Tamaki can't help but smile. At the cost of enduring the attention your volume brings, he'd be more than happy to listen to you gush and spew about whatever.

Where he was once intimidated by your light, he now bathes in its warmth. And where you were once silenced by your own trepeditions, you now burst at the seams with unrestrained energy.

While you are loud, Tamaki is quiet; he likes to listen when you talk, and you are his voice when he cannot find his own.

Fate had not been mistaken.

It had just taken some fine tuning before you reached the perfect volume.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊  

A/N: A little more history of the Reader in this one - I honestly love her family's backstory

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Part 5: Mieczyslaw {You Are Here}

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

The hospital was quiet that evening. You were assigned to the long-term care floor and spent long hours updating patient files and making your rounds. Checking vitals, refilling water bottles, adjusting patients with bed sores, and administering medication at the right times.

It was the perfect distraction. You would be missing the lacrosse game that night, missing the first game with Scott being co-captain and Stiles being first line.

You’d be missing Andrew and his dimpled grin.

Instead of focusing on that the rest of the night, you call Lydia who had texted you an SOS.

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I mean, he sent me a pathetic text asking for his house key back. The loser is so down in the dumps that he doesn’t think he deserves me, which is right, of course.”

You hold the phone with your shoulder and start typing notes into a patient file, “I’m sorry, Lyds. Breakups suck.”

“He’s become such an asshole recently. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. But good riddance. I needed to climb the social food chain anyway. He’s been lacking in the lacrosse category.”

“Sounds like you’re handling it surprisingly well.”

“I’m completely over him. Only took a few minutes… seconds actually.”

You smile, “Yeah, you barely sound upset over it.”

She can hear your sarcasm, “Did you hear that Allison is still going to the game? Her dad and aunt are going too.”

“That’s weird,” you frown, “I wonder why.” With the Argents being hunters… you wonder how much they know about the number of werewolves in town.

“You’re still on shift tonight?”

“Yes, right where I want to be. The perfect excuse to miss the game.” You upload another patient file and wave to another night nurse leaving for her break. It was just you and one other nurse on the floor – a redhead named Jennifer.

“Anything exciting happening?” she asks in a huff, upset that the attention was no longer on her dilemma.

“Nope, I’m working the long-term floor. Everyone here is mostly in recovery or stuck in their beds. It’s usually pretty quiet at night, which is why there’s less staff.”

“Fascinating,” Lydia says quickly, “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m going to sit with Allison and scope out my next boyfriend.” She laughs before adding, “Don’t worry, Andrew is off the table.”

You scoff, “Yeah, thanks. Have fun.” And you slide your phone back into your scrubs pocket.

The next half hour was relatively quiet, just two call buttons going off. The rest of your time was spent making your rounds and completing chores. That is until a pair of sneakers comes walking down the hallway.

“Yeah, I said I can’t find her.”

You stand to confront the foreign male voice that was definitely intruding past visiting hours, only to find Stiles on the phone. He was getting snippy with whoever he was talking to, “Hey, listen here wolfman – the only reason I’m harboring your fugitive ass is because you saved (Y/N)’s life last full moon, got it? I don’t owe you any more favors.”

“What the hell?” you say, catching his attention, “Don’t you have a lacrosse game to get to, hotshot?”

In a few seconds you can see a range of emotions flickering through his face: confusion, happiness, worry, and something in the way he looks at your scrubs. “Hi, (Y/N).”

You walk around the nurses station and fold your arms, “Care to answer my question?”

He gives you a goofy side smile, “You’re talking to me.”

“Yes, Stiles,” you fight the immediate grin that wants to envelop your face. “What are you doing here?”

He leans into the phone for a second, “Uh… is there a Jennifer working here?”

“She’s the on call nurse tonight, why?” you pop a hip, arms still tightly crossed.

“What about Melissa?” he asks, walking down the hall and to a room. He speaks to the phone again, “Yeah, well, he’s not here either.”

“Who are you talking to?” you ask exasperatedly, “Stiles, you can’t be here past visiting hours. Would you please…”

“He’s not here. He’s gone, Derek.”

Your jaw drops, “The fugitive you’re harboring is Derek?”

He looks to you, “Yeah, the rest of the town doesn’t know he’s innocent because it’s actually a psycho Alpha werewolf that’s killing everyone,” he says to you. “You sure Melissa isn’t here?”

You hold your hands up, “I’m not answering anymore of your questions until you tell me what’s going on.”

Suddenly you can hear the frantic voice of Derek over the phone and Stiles has a look of instant terror. It sets you on edge when a mysterious man stands at the corner of the hall; it was as if he had appeared out of thin air.

Half his face is covered in burn scars and after a second thought you realize that it’s Peter Hale – the long-term resident of the floor. Your eyes widen at the sight of him standing without his wheelchair and Stiles takes a few steps in your direction.

“You must be Stiles,” Peter says in an eerily calm tone. He’s barely smiling as he nods in your direction, “Hello, (Y/N). It’s nice to finally be able to speak to you.”

Stiles drops his hand holding the phone, walking back until he feels you near him. He reaches behind him and takes hold of your arm. Your instinct is to press yourself closer into his back, “Is that…?”

“He’s the Alpha,” Stiles mutters, whipping his head to the side at the newcomer.

“Jennifer!” you say, “We have a situation with…”

The redheaded nurse holds her head high, “Shut up!”

Your mouth clamps shut – how many people are in on this? Stiles, in his usual fashion, can’t stay quiet for long.

“You and… him? You’re his… and he’s the…” Stiles is shielding you with his body at this point. “Oh my god, we’re gonna die. We’re gonna die.”

You jab a finger into his spine, silencing him. “This is not how I’m supposed to die.”

But with an elbow to the face, Jennifer falls to the floor and Derek takes her place. You forget momentarily how tall, dark, and handsome he is. Peter speaks again with that same calm, menacing tone.

“That’s not nice. She’s my nurse.”

You start to pull Stiles against you, taking you both behind the nurses station.

“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people.”

Peter makes his way over, “You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?”

A growl ripples from Derek’s throat, fangs appearing from his open mouth. Blue eyes glowing with strange power, he bounds for the attack. You’re paralyzed at seeing the action up close.

“Holy shi…”

Stiles drags you to the floor, doggy-paddling across the tile like a swimmer. You army crawl beside him as Peter and Derek start to throw each other against the hospital walls. Bits of plaster and plastic side railing break away easily.

“Okay,” you say, coughing as you breathe in some plaster dust, “I believe you now. I really believe you.”

“Is that why you haven’t been talking to me or Scott?” Stiles yells over the growling werewolves. “Scott could have easily proven werewolves existed if you just asked him to show himself.”

They continue their sliding movements across the station and to the next hall, the sound of breaking glass loud behind you. “No, I stopped talking to you because I needed a break after hearing the truth. It’s a lot to think about when you realize the whole freaking town has lore in supernatural entities that aren’t just make believe… they’re actual fucking werewolves!” You swipe an arm across the tile and shove his legs out of the way to reach his side. “I needed time to cope with the sudden shift in what I knew to be reality.”

“Understandable,” he pants, tongue sticking out, “I just wish we could’ve helped you cope instead of you just shutting us out.”

“Like I said… I wasn’t really thinking!”

“And of course it was the same night as Scott forcing a kiss on you and trying to kill you in your own home…”

“Shut the hell up, Stilinski! Bigger problems at hand!” The werewolves were moving to a different patient room to continue their fight. You gesture to the end of the hall, “The emergency exit is there. We just have to get there and down the stairs. We can call 911 when we’re outside.”

Stiles agrees, watching you with a different panic, “How’s your heart?”

“If anything happens we’re in a hospital,” you say frankly, “Come on.” You lead the way as the fighting becomes quieter.

Stiles admires you from behind, standing to run the last few feet. You slam into the door and guide the way down the many flights of stairs. Stiles is jumping whole steps and crashing into the walls.

Your lungs start to fight for breath by the time you reach the bottom, Stiles tripping over the last step and falling to his knees beside you.

“Does… Does the Alpha have control…” you pant, holding a stitch in your side, “… over Derek?”

Stiles breathes dramatically, his face scrunching up in a funny way. “I wouldn’t be surprised. He might be forcing Derek onto his side right now with some crazy alpha mind control.”

You stumble toward the exit, shoving it open to a gust of chilly night air. You lean against the hospital wall, hands on your hips. Stiles follows, pulling out his car keys.

“Can you make it to the jeep?”

“If I say no would you carry me?”

He shrugs, pulling a face, “No promises. I could probably swing a piggy-back ride.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” you say, bending down to put your head between your knees. It was routine when you were out of breath and starting to feel lightheaded. Your hands lay flat on the concrete, your mind focusing on how cold and gritty it feels under your fingers. You listen to the crickets and the wind whistling through trees. You smell the honey sweet rain from Stiles.

A large warm hand spreads against your back, rubbing up and down your spine.

You feel the air flood your lungs, “Have you called the police yet?”

“I told them there was a possible break-in and a nurse got knocked out,” he says, “They’ll be here soon.”

You take a few deep breaths, soothed by Stiles’ hand. “I have to wait for the police.” You sit up and Stiles retreats a few feet. The action makes you consider him for a few seconds. “I’m not mad at you or Scott. I just… I needed some distance while I tried to figure things out.”

There’s a bob in Stiles’ throat, “And… have you figured things out?”

You screw up your lips in thought, “I need to talk to Scott first.”

Stiles nods vigorously, hope lighting his eyes. “Yeah, yeah – for sure. Let’s go find him now, I’m sure the lacrosse game is almost over.”

A flash of pity is in your face, “You missed your first game.”

“Yeah, well…” he waves a hand, extending it to help you to your feet. “I had a couple more important things to tackle tonight.”

“Won’t your dad be disappointed?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs, walking to the passenger side of the jeep, “But if the pinkeye epidemic continues then I’m still first line for the time being!”

You giggle, sliding into the jeep, “I’ll pray for the conjunctivitis.” With the heater still broken, you’re grateful you chose a long-sleeve undershirt for your scrubs. It took a few minutes for you to call your boss and explain the situation.

The police were on their way, and you were meant to stay to give a witness statement. It would also have been irresponsible to leave your patients in their time of need. Choosing to wait in the jeep was just common sense seeing as there were two werewolves having a row upstairs.

“Do you think Derek is okay?” you look out the window.

Stiles was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, “He’s fine. Peter will probably try to get him under his control.”

“Then what?”

“He’ll keep trying to get Scott into his pack.” Stiles leans more against the door to get a better look at you. “So we have some catching up to do.”

“Like what?” you smile.

He frowns, picking at his fingers, “I don’t know… like how Jackson broke up with Lydia.”

“Yeah,” you grimace, “Lydia only just told me about the breakup tonight.”

Stiles blows air between his lips, “Jackson always has another agenda. He’s been black mailing Scott because he wants the werewolf bite.”

“You’re kidding,” you say, “How did he find out about the supernatural?”

“I don’t know! He hasn’t been talking to anyone, not even Danny.”

You lean against the door to match Stiles’ stance, “Well, I know Lydia has said he’s never been the same since Scott outperformed him. He’s been slipping ever since.” You rub at your eyes, “He doesn’t talk to me much, and now it’s awkward between him and Lydia.”

“There’s also the news that the Argents know about a second beta werewolf.” At your look of confusion, he continues, “They know there’s an alpha and they know about Derek. They’ve realized that there’s a second werewolf and they’re trying to figure out who it is.”

“They being Allison’s dad and aunt?”

Stiles nods, “They have been scouting ever since – they think it might be a teenager.”

Your head perks up, “Lydia said Allison’s family was going to be at the game tonight. I bet they’re looking for clues as to who could be the other werewolf.”

“Let’s just hope they don’t suspect Scott.”

Stiles continues to pick at his nails, looking at them instead of you. “I’ve also heard that you might be going on a date with a certain potential lacrosse boyfriend…?”

You fight a smile, “Andrew asked me out.”

“And you said?”

“Yes!” you laugh, “I’ve been waiting for him to ask since I started working with Coach on the lacrosse field.” You miss the bitterness in Stiles’ face; he was trying to hide it with his downcast gaze.

A police siren could be heard down the highway. Stiles clears his throat, “Is he going to ask you to the winter formal?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, tickled at the thought, “But that’s still a couple weeks away.”

“Do you want him to?” Stiles finally looks at you, straining to keep the hurt he feels at bay. The tightness of his chest was smothered by the boiling jealousy in his stomach. He hates the way you sound doting on Andrew. And he hates himself for being jealous over something he shouldn’t be mad about.

You made your choice and Andrew is a good guy.

“I’m not sure. He doesn’t know about my heart and a formal dance would be prime time for it to give out.” You take a deep breath, “I’d rather not spoil an evening like that.”

Stiles nods and considers you, “I guess you just need to go with someone that knows how to calm you. That way you don’t need to worry.”

It was suddenly tense for a few seconds while the police cars come closer to the hospital. You put a hand on the door handle and say, “You should probably get out of here so your dad doesn’t overhear why you might not be at the game. Police radios, you know…”

“Right,” Stiles says, “Let me know if anything comes up. I’m going to find Scott and tell him about our newly identified alpha.”

~~~

The next few days felt a little less hostile as the friend group settles into a new norm. Jackson is still moseying up to Allison, who is still apologizing on behalf of Scott for the impromptu kissing. You console her in that Scott wasn’t himself that day.

Allison was also venturing into new hobbies to keep her mind off things. She had taken to practicing archery in the woods, sometimes taking you or Lydia with her.

Jackson was talking in angry whispers to Scott and Stiles more often. You know it has something to do with seeking the werewolf curse.

As for yourself, you were working on your science project implanting E.coli in varying meats and cooking them, swabbing each as you go and putting samples in petri dishes. They were currently incubating in the chemistry lab while you walk down the hall with Andrew.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you say, eyeing the way Andrew held your books for you.

“Hey, now we’re going to state,” he says, “You can come to that game.”

You smile, almost to English, “I’ll bring my pom-poms and megaphone.”

Andrew laughs, handing back your books for class, “I won’t say no to a little cheerleading outfit.” He winks at you and a warm blush envelops both your faces.

“I’ll see you later,” you say.

Walking into class you’re quick to notice Scott and Stiles staring at you (Stiles with a little more of a frown). You choose to sit in front of Scott, taking any opportunity for Allison to be near him.

“(Y/N)…” he starts with hesitance, “Stiles told me you’re talking again.”

You don’t turn around at first, “And?”

He leans forward across the desk, and you can hear his whisper over your shoulder. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to apologize to you this last week and… nothing seems good enough. After you avoided me and everything, I thought I lost my chance.” He sighs and you can feel it in your hair. “(Y/N), I am so so sorry. I’m sorry for attacking you – I’m sorry for forcing a kiss on you – I’m sorry for scaring you – and I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

Very slowly you pivot in your chair to look at him.

Those puppy-dog eyes were back full force. Those were Scott’s eyes – not the dark, menacing look they had on the full moon. You knew the difference was night and day. The real Scott McCall would never do those things if he was in full control.

“I feel terrible,” he continues, afraid at your persistent silence. “I’m an awful friend and I should have told you the truth sooner. Maybe you would have been more prepared for the full moon like Stiles.”

You blink, “Have you apologized to Allison?”

“Well, I tried…” he scratches at his shaggy head, adding to his puppy-dog look. “She was shooting arrows in the forest with Lydia yesterday… and I needed to return a necklace of hers.”

“You mean you were stalking her?”

“The details are a little foggy,” he says quickly, “I might’ve scared her and she tazed me.”

Stiles snorts from beside Scott and you have to stop yourself from losing your composure. “She’s picked up a few things since breaking up with you.”

“I noticed,” he says lowly. “Anyway, I tried to apologize, and I think it got to her a little. She’s still mad, but I think she might forgive me eventually.”

“I told you,” you say with a slight smile. It gives Scott hope.

“And what about you?” his dark brown eyes are wide with anxiety.

You share a look with Stiles, who shrugs. “I forgive you.”

Scott sighs, his head falling into his arms on the desk. “Thank god. I promise, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to do any of those things. The full moon had me wired and it was like something else was controlling my body.”

“It’s okay, Scott. I did a lot of thinking while taking a break.” You look between Scott and Stiles as the tardy bell rings. “And I don’t think I can be involved with all this werewolf stuff.”

Stiles is nearly out of his chair with how he reacts. “What do you mean?” his desk squeaks terribly against the tile floor.

“I mean, I’d like to still be friends with you guys…”

An awful needle like puncture was screwing its way through Stiles’ chest. Friends.

“… but I don’t really want to be included in any werewolf business or late night investigations or almost being killed – which has happened to me about three times now since starting school.”

“Werewolf business is a very regular part of my life,” Scott says with a disbelieving laugh.

You nod, “I get it, I just mean I’d love to hang out or go to a party sometime, but I can’t be involved with anything else related to the alpha situation.”

Stiles was having trouble swallowing as Scott continues, “Like it or not, (Y/N) – you’re kind of a part of my pack. The pack that the Alpha wants me to get rid of.”

“Then… I’m resigning from the pack,” you shrug half-heartedly.

Stiles’ jaw nearly hits the floor as the teacher snaps at the three of you for talking. There is about three minutes of quiet as the teacher explains the upcoming book report that you’ve already finished on Sense and Sensibility.

After that you receive a group text from both Scott and Stiles.

Stiles: You’re just unfriending the pack?!

(Y/N): Can’t I do that and still be friendly?

Stiles: No

Scott: Of course you can. We just don’t get why

You raise your hand and share what stance you took on the book report requirements. You wrote an analytical piece on the personalities of two sisters: Elenor being all sense and Marianne being all sensibility.

The teacher looks pleased and asks for more volunteers. You’re now covered to keep texting.

(Y/N): Tell you later

Scott: Ok

Stiles: Tell us now

You tuck your phone away and feel it buzz with a few more messages before going quiet. You don’t mean for it to be such a shock. You just knew that the more stress you had the more likely you’d have a fainting episode with your heart condition. That would lead to more heart damage and an end that you want to prolong as much as possible.

Being surrounded by high stress werewolf situations was going to be the death of you.

You are quick to leave the classroom at the bell and the boys weren’t far behind.

“Hey,” Stiles grabs your shoulder, slowing you down. “Explain.”

Scott holds his backpack straps, awkward but less demanding on hearing your explanation.

“It’s not a good idea for me to be around a lot of stress,” you sigh, “You know… because of my heart.”

Both boys purse their lips and share a look. Scott is quiet when he asks, “Because you have a tachee-heart?”

You and Stiles both say, “Tachycardia?” You laugh and continue, “Yes. My heartbeat is already irregular and if I do anything to add to it… it’s bad news bears.”

“Care to expand on what these bad news bears are?” Stiles asks irritably.

“That’s a talk for another day,” you say quickly, leading the way to your next class. “Just know that the more my heart struggles the worse off I’ll be.”

“But we can help you,” Stiles says, pressing into your shoulder as you all walk down the hallway. “We can calm you down if that happens.” I can calm you down.

You sigh, “Not always. It can be random and persistent.” You stop outside the door of your next class. “This isn’t me saying we can’t be friends, just… I want to avoid any werewolfy scenarios that might involve near death and/or general terror.”

You leave Scott and Stiles to contemplate out in the hallway. Shoulders sagging, Scott groans, “This werewolf thing is ruining my life.”

“Yeah, and mine.” Stiles broods at the classroom door, taking a second to realize what he said and turning to the mild anger on Scott’s face. “What? I’m the best friend – I am legally bound to whatever misery you experience.”

“All the new friends I’ve made are literally being pushed away because of this curse,” Scott rubs hard at his face, “And it’s ruined my love life, not to mention my lifespan. Hunters are basically knocking down my front door!”

“Yeah, it’s really putting a damper on my love life too.” Stiles mumbles to himself, “I really thought I had a shot with her.”

Scott shoves his friend, “Even after all her talk about Andrew?”

Stiles scowls, “That’s just a silly crush.”

“And what she feels for you is… what exactly?”

“Hidden feelings that I will unlock one day for her to realize that I am the perfect guy for her…” he licks his lips, wincing, “… despite the clumsiness, sarcasm, and general idiocy.”

Scott laughs, “Yeah, she’s really missing out.”

“Hey!” he rams into Scott as they walk towards their next class. “I really like her, Scott. Like… I like her, like her.”

“I know, Loverboy.”

“She’s all I can think about, and I know I’m just a pathetic friend of hers, but I’m hopeless, Scott! Completely hopeless.”

Scott gives him a look, “Are you sure you’re not stalking her?”

“In a broad sense of the term,” Stiles shrugs, “I’ve never felt this comfortable around a girl before. I’ve never felt this way about any girl.”

“You’ve got it bad,” Scott sighs, “I know the feeling well.”

~~~

You walk through the aisles of computers to sit near the back beside a hunched figure. He keeps his head down even as you watch his eyes dart to see who you are. If anything it makes him more shy, his shoulders drawing in as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible.

You sling your backpack onto the ground and ignore the random text Stiles sent you about the history of the male circumcision. He was always sending you the most out-of-pocket things.

“Hey,” you smile at the quiet boy, “My name’s (Y/N)…” He turns his head a little more and you instantly recognize him as one of the benchwarmers on the lacrosse team, “… and you’re Isaac, right?”

His blue eyes seem to warm at your recognition, “Yeah, Isaac Lahey,” he clears his throat, “I uh…”

“You play lacrosse!” your smile widens, “I didn’t realize we had computer science together.”

“Play is a strong word,” he says with a hint of a smile. “I sort of keep to myself.”

You lean on your elbow, considering him as he fidgets under your gaze. “I think the last time we talked was when I was passing out permission slips for that spring retreat Coach was talking about.”

Isaac nods his head, still bowing like he was trying to hide behind his computer screen. “I don’t talk much.”

“You didn’t bring back your permission slip if I remember correctly.”

“No,” he clears his throat again, finding it hard to swallow. “My dad needs me to stay home.”

“Even for just a weekend?” your brows knit.

He licks his lips, “He needs help at work and… I’m the only one around to do it.”

“Shame,” you mutter, “I’d like to have seen you there. Maybe we could’ve roasted marshmallows together and tossed Coach’s whistle in the lake.”

His lips upturn a little more, “You’re going on the retreat?”

“I don’t think the Coach can survive without me,” you stifle a laugh, “Besides I’m the only one who knows anything about the retreat. He probably couldn’t drive a single one of you up there.” You nudge your arm into his, “You should ask your dad again, see if he’ll change his mind.”

Isaac has an emotion you can’t gauge flash across his eyes. “Maybe.” He nods and hides that smile you’re trying to pull out of him. “I wouldn’t mind messing with Coach, though.”

“We could hide his energy drinks or put dye in his toothpaste,” you muse, “Make his teeth blue for a day.”

“Or we could put a squirrel in his cabin,” Isaac says with a little more enthusiasm, “Or maybe we could hide his shaving kit and see what kind of beard he can grow.”

You snort, “I bet it’s as white as an old mans.”

“It’s because all us kids give him gray hairs,” Isaac laughs, smiling wide.

You laugh along, suddenly struck with his change of demeanor. “You have a great smile, Isaac,” you say, “It looks good on you.”

A rush of red fills his cheeks, unable to stop smiling now. He isn’t hunched behind his computer anymore, “Thank you.”

The teacher was about ready to throttle you two for giggling over her talking. You nudge Isaac again with your arm, putting a finger to your lips.

~~~

The next day you’re being dropped off at the Argent residence for a ‘family dinner.’ Allison has been complaining about how often her dad talks about meeting you. It was odd not having met them – almost every parent in town knew who you were.

That was the consequence of a small town with two working parents in the emergency fields. Most adults knew that they had to leave at the drop of a dime if your heart was ever in trouble.

Hence the anxiety making your fingers pull on your sleeves.

“(Y/N)!” Allison greets, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry for this,” she whispers.

You whisper back, “Don’t be.” But a flash of fear crosses your face when the door widens to reveal a blue-eyed, middle-aged man. “Mr. Argent?”

“(Y/N),” he extends a hand, eyes never blinking as he probes you, “We finally meet.” He shakes your hand firmly, “My wife and daughter have only had good things to say.”

And my friends have told me about your penchant for shooting arrows at teenage boys. “Nice to meet you.” You follow the family inside and to the dining room. “I hope you don’t mind…”

In your free hand was a small container of peanut butter brownies you had made earlier that day. Chris Argent looks pleased when he inspects the contents, “How wonderful – you didn’t have to.”

“I know,” you say, handing the dessert to Allison to plate. The Argents were able to provide for themselves, plus extra.

Living on the other side of town, the Argent residence was much more lavish than what you were used to. It created a very unfortunate divide between the teenagers. An invisible line that was rarely mentioned, but nonetheless present.

Over in these neighborhoods, Lydia, Allison, and Jackson lived with rich crown moldings, nice cars, high ceilings, and antique furniture. More in the valley, you, Stiles, and Scott lived in modest homes with hand-me-down items and a small growing pile of bills.

With one check you bet the Argents could take away your family’s medical debt.

“Your home is lovely as always,” you say, admiring the chandelier in the dining room. “And dinner smells amazing.”

“Not my doing,” a dirty blonde says with a crisp laugh. A near forced laugh as her less piercing blue eyes meet yours. She assesses you with something a little colder than Chris. “Hello, I’m Kate, and I have no talent for cooking.”

You give a wave across the table, instantly wary of her. Allison pops up beside you, “That’s my aunt I told you about.” She looks to Kate as she sits, “(Y/N) is an amazing cook.”

Kate nods, still scrutinizing you with her gaze. “What else are you good at, (Y/N)?”

“Reading,” you say instantly, sharing a laugh with Allison. “I keep to myself mostly.”

With the table set, the Argent family sits to enjoy the meal. Victoria Argent, whom you’ve met the few times you’ve been out with Allison, sat with her husband.

“So, (Y/N), tell us a little more about yourself,” Chris says, spearing asparagus with his fork. “You’re close with our daughter but we know almost nothing about you.”

You try to swallow your roast chicken quickly as Allison scolds her father. “I told you not to interrogate her,” she leans closer to you, “He doesn’t really have a ‘pleasant conversation’ option in his vernacular.”

“It’s alright,” you say with a wave, grabbing a nice cloth napkin to dab at your mouth. “My parents like to know who I’m friends with too.”

“You know Scott and Jackson, correct?” Kate digs into her chicken with a knife.

“Yes, we’re all friends. I also am a teacher assistant for Coach Finstock, so I see them at lacrosse a lot.”

Chris considers you, “But you weren’t at the last lacrosse game?”

“No, I work at the hospital as a medical assistant and I picked up a shift that night,” you take a sip of your water. How much information was too much information to give?

Kate tilts her head in your direction, “Wasn’t there a break-in at the hospital that night?”

You nod slowly, “Yeah, someone got into an altercation past visiting hours. I don’t know who but when I went to investigate the noise, there was a lot of broken glass and cracks in the walls. Thank goodness none of the patients were harmed.”

Chris takes his time cutting his meal into pieces, “That sounds terrible. What did you do?”

“I called the police, checked on my residents, and ran outside to meet the cops.” You take a small bite of food, “They didn’t find anything besides the damage.”

“Cameras?” Kate questions.

You shake your head, “My co-workers said that they had been damaged as well. Wiped clean or lost… I don’t know exactly.”

Chris seems satisfied for the time being, “Well, I’m glad you got out safely, whatever it was.”

Kate, on the other hand, seems to perk with interest, “I hear you’ve had a run-in with danger a couple times this year.” At your look of confusion, she nods toward your collar. “The attack on the video store, I mean.” She barely moves a centimeter as she stares you down, “Allison told me you had gotten clawed pretty bad.”

You spot the wince in Allison’s brow. “I did get attacked that night,” you wipe at your mouth again. “It was pretty bad for a while, infected and everything. But I’m okay now.”

Kate was persistent, “Must have left a pretty gnarly scar.” Her eyebrows lift as if expecting you to reveal your shoulder. She was scolded by her niece.

“It’s still a little pink, but that’ll go away with time,” you say as nonchalantly as possible. “I’d say it makes me look a little cooler than I am.” You shift the collar of your shirt an inch to reveal the tail end of three massive claw marks, another curling around your arm. It was your turn to gauge the reaction of the Argents.

Chris and Kate share a look and you clear your throat in response. Are you making yourself a possible werewolf suspect?

“And what do you guys do for work?” you say, steering the conversation off yourself. “Allison says that you’re a weapons dealer?”

Chris pours himself more water, “That’s right. We have quite the collection if you’re interested.”

You shake your head quickly, “I’m not really built for that. I enjoy my books and my lazy cat sleeping in my lap as I read.”

He nods, hopefully in a sign of respect. “That’s why Kate is here. She deals in weaponry as well – a very skilled hunter.”

She raises her glass, “The art of the kill. I needed my brother’s expertise on a few pieces for my latest hunt.”

“What do you hunt?” you say innocently.

“Big game predators,” she says, cold eyes locked on you. “Cougars, bears, wolves.”

You almost smirk. These people are hiding in plain sight.

“My mom is a buyer for a store in San Fransico,” Allison steers the conversation even more. “Right, mom?”

Victoria, already done with her meal and leaning back in her chair, replies, “Yes, it’s a charming little boutique. I also teach math at a boarding school for boys on the side.”

You nod, “Why math?”

“Strategy,” she says flatly. “Equations and probabilities. I enjoy the art of stratagem.”

That was slightly off putting as well. Did these people know how to be subtle? How had Allison gone this long without knowing her family history?

“And your parents are…?” Victoria continues.

You smile, “My mom works behind the desk at the police station – taking and directing calls. My dad works at the firehouse.”

“You must hear everything that goes on around here,” Chris smirks.

“Only when I ask,” you say, “And that’s considering nothing wild has happened in Beacon Hills for years…”

Kate leans back in her chair as well, crossing her arms in contemplation. “Have you lived here your whole life?”

“Yes,” you say, pushing your plate away, “Almost since birth.”

“Where did you live before?” Chris asks.

He might be intimidating, but you enjoy talking to him much more than Kate. “My parents lived in Palo Alto when I was born. We had a nice house and my mom worked security at Stanford University. My dad actually met her at the San Francisco Bay. He was a lifeguard before he was a firefighter, and he watched the swimmers at Keller Beach and Berkeley Marina.” You smile a sweet smile, “She kept coming back to those places to see him… even pretended to drown once for a kiss.”

“Must be a fan of The Sandlot,” Allison snickers, enjoying hearing you talk more than her family.

 “So why make the move to Beacon Hills?” Kate asks, arms still tightly wound.

Your smile falls a little, “I was born with a congenital heart defect. The medical bills and surgeries became too much… and we had to downgrade.”

Allison puts a hand on your leg beneath the table. Chris sends a piercing look to his sister and mutters, “I’m sorry, (Y/N) – I didn’t know you were sick.”

“Still am,” you say with mock cheerfulness, holding your water glass with two hands to give yourself something to focus on. “Heart problems are persistent. We try to keep it as discreet as possible.”

He nods, looking at you with a different air of likeness. “It sounds like you have a wonderful family.”

“I do,” you say fast, “Thank you.”

They move on to the brownies you brought as a means to change the subject. Victoria hums her appreciation, “These are delicious, did you put caramel in here too?”

“Caramel is one of the greatest inventions of all time and deserves to be incorporated into as many sweets as possible,” you laugh, “Of course I put caramel in them.”

The table laughs as you eat, feeling a little stripped bare after revealing so much about yourself. As Allison said, it did feel more like an interrogation rather than a pleasant family meal. You were quick to text the boys as you leave the residence.

“My place in ten minutes. I have an Argent update.” You smile as you add, “… and leftover brownies.”

Allison was kind enough to drive you home, apologizing the entire way. “My dad wasn’t as brazen as usual, but my aunt Kate?” she rolls her eyes, “I can’t believe how much she was grilling you.”

“You have a protective family,” you shrug, “So do I.”

“Your parents have a good reason to be extra protective of you,” she retorts, “My family is just nosy and suspicious and… I don’t know, my aunt and dad have been a little tense with each other this visit. They usually get along so well.”

“How much longer is your aunt staying here?” you ask, holding your container of leftover brownies.

Allison knits her brow in thought, “I’m not sure. She says she’s getting ready for another big hunt and just needs supplies and my dad’s advice. But I don’t know… sometimes I feel like she isn’t telling me everything.”

You thank Allison for the ride and the invitation to dinner. You promise to give her an update on your date with Andrew that weekend, and she drives off. Entering your house was a breath of fresh air.

Oliver trots to your side, his furry underbelly swaying side to side before you scoop him up and kiss his head. He purrs instantly.

“How was dinner?” your mom asks, sitting at the dining table with little potted plants in front of her. She was trying to grow herbs from seeds and the lavender was not doing so well.

“It was fine,” you kick off your shoes, “Her family is a little interrogative.”

Tom walks in with his usual cola, no doubt with a few ounces of whiskey poured in. “I knew they were a little tense, especially after that Chris guy shot the mountain lion at parent teacher conferences.”

You scratch under Ollie’s chin, “It was still nice, but I would watch out for that Kate Argent. She scares me a little.” You sit at the table and watch your mom preen the little sprouts of eucalyptus and rosemary. “Oh, I also invited Scott and Stiles over, if that’s okay.”

Tom folds his arms, making them look massive beneath his firehouse flannel. “I thought you liked that Andrew guy.”

“I can like a guy and be friends with other guys, dad,” you snicker, “I’m just going to take my medicine real quick, will you send them up when they get here?”

Your mom waves you off, adding some water to her seedlings, “Leave me one of those brownies, would you?”

A minute later, and having taken all your prescription meds, there’s a howling laugh coming from downstairs. You move to the foot of the stairs to see Stiles beaming and your dad wiping his eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tom says, “Stilinski here was just telling me about a police fiasco with a red tricycle and a klepto.”

You look puzzled as Stiles scratches at the back of his head, “Yeah, I might’ve stolen some already stolen items from evidence when I was a kid. I was the prime suspect for about three days with all the stuff in my possession.”

“And at five years old,” your dad laughs, downing his drink.

“I really wanted the tricycle!” Stiles retorts, “It was my first bike.”

Tom shakes his head, “Learning to pedal on stolen property.”

Scott pulls on his friend, “It was nice talking to you guys.”

“Of course, sweetie,” your mom says, “Now not too late, you still have school tomorrow.”

Walking up the stairs (Stiles tripping over at least two of the steps) you lead the boys into your room, Oliver already on your bed.

“Hey, buddy…” Stiles gets on his knees and crawls to the edge of the bed, “How’s the fuzz ball?”

Ollie perks his ears and blinks slowly at Stiles, bowing his head for a pet. Though upon Scott’s arrival, the cat sets his ears back and hisses.

“What the…” you mutter, watching your cat growl low in his throat and dart to leave the bedroom. “He’s never acted like that before.”

Scott looks guilty, “Well, I am part dog and… I did break into your house as a werewolf not too long ago.”

Your lips make a thin line, “Right. Cats and dogs don’t always get along.” You walk to your bed, flicking at Stiles’ head as you sit down, “Do you guys want a brownie? They’re leftover from my dinner with the Argents.”

Stiles’ greedy fingers dive for the plastic container while Scott shoves his hands in his pockets. “You had dinner at their house?”

You relay some of the conversation you had. The mysterious penchant for weapons and hunting big game predators. The interrogative questions on the hospital break-in and your involvement with Scott and Jackson. The request to see the claw marks on your shoulder.

“Do they think you might be the second beta too?” Scott asks with a tense line between his eyebrows. Stiles was too busy eating his third brownie.

“Maybe… do they think a scratch could turn you?”

“That’s what Derek said,” Scott swallows hard, “He told us a deep enough alpha scratch might give you the curse. The Argents might have the same theory.” He smacks his forehead, “Which is why they’re suspicious of Jackson. He has those claw marks in his neck from Derek.”

You frown, “And they don’t know they’re from Derek and not the Alpha.”

“But they do know your scars are from the Alpha,” Scott mutters worriedly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they do a follow-up on you.”

“But after I told them about my heart condition, they seemed to back off. At least Chris did.”

You relay the conversation that you had about your parents meeting in Palo Alto and the move to Beacon Hills because of your heart. You remember the likeness Chris Argent had in his voice as he expressed his apologies for your sickness.

“If you’re sick then you couldn’t have the curse,” Scott mumbles, picking at his chin. “Werewolves heal really fast unless the wound is supernatural too.”

Stiles is licking his fingers when he suddenly blurts, “Do you think if you were a werewolf your heart would be cured?”

You shrug, finding the amount of brownie left on Stiles’ face amusing. “I don’t really want to find out. Anyway, I knew you guys would probably want to know.”

“Still not keen on all this werewolf business?” Stiles asks.

“I’m just trying to protect myself.” You sit on the bed, Stiles on the ground and leaning against the mattress. He’s looking up at you with his brown eyes, fizzing with warmth like cola and whiskey. “It’s not that I don’t want to investigate with you guys. I just worry what it’ll do to my heart.”

You laugh and point at your own face, “You’ve got chocolate all over your mouth.”

Stiles is quick to rub his mouth across his shirt sleeves, “Those brownies were just too damn good.” There was still a smudge at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe if you swallowed between bites…” you move your fingers to his face, lifting his chin to look up at you. He’s frozen as you move your thumb to the corner of his mouth and wipe down and under his bottom lip.

Eyes wide and imploring as they look up at you. He’s all sweet innocence and deeply adoring as you touch his mouth. The brown of his eyes was melting into the sticky sweet sap color, like warm honey in the sunlight.

You pull your hand away and suck the chocolate off the pad of your thumb, “… but thank you for the compliment. I’m not as much of a baker.”

Scott was trying to keep a smile off his face as his hand hovered near his crinkled nose. He was smelling something that was flying off Stiles like a firework set aflame. The poor boy was squirming in his spot on the ground, crossing his legs and keeping his hands over his lap.

“How was Allison?” Scott changes the subject.

You look up, now ignoring the sappy eyes gazing from below. “She was fine – maybe a little embarrassed about her family. It was strange knowing the motive behind her family’s questions but seeing none of it register with her.”

“I have a feeling she’ll find out soon enough.”

“Me too,” you stand, “For now she’s releasing a lot of her stress through archery and training with her aunt.”

Scott shivers, “Scary.”

You nod, walking to the door and hearing Stiles scramble to his feet. “I’ll see you guys at school tomorrow?”

Getting into the jeep was uncomfortable, Stiles pulling at his jeans. Scott was laughing at him before too long, “Dude, you should have seen your face. You really are hopeless.”

Stiles groans, slamming his forehead into the steering wheel, “She touched me and every thought just flew out of my head.”

“I could smell it off you,” Scott grimaces, “Just awful lovey-dovey sex hormones, even without the full moon I could smell it.”

Stiles sat straight, making the jeep wiggle side to side. He had a ruddy red mark on his forehead. “Did you smell anything from (Y/N)?”

Scott clamps his mouth shut before shaking his head. “I could hear her uneven heartbeat, but that’s nothing new.”

In a dramatic turn of events, Stiles slumps in his seat and puts the car in drive. “I need to figure out a way to tell her.”

“Tell her your feelings?” Scott gaps, “What about the possibility of utterly crushing humiliation? Not to mention ruining what friendships we still have.”

“Thanks for adding to the anxiety, Scott,” he grumbles, “I just… I can’t help thinking about how I am with her. I have never been able to just talk about my mom to anyone… but with her it’s easy. I’ve never brought a girl over to my house before… but with (Y/N) it was a no brainer. I’ve never been so equally terrified and comfortable with a girl. And with her heart…”

“You’re like an anchor for her,” Scott says quietly, all teasing aside. “You can calm her.”

Stiles puts one hand over his cropped hair, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell her.”

“You know the difference between you and Andrew Wickstrom, Stiles?”

He snorts, “He’s maybe four inches taller than me, has perfect curly hair, and is way better at lacrosse than I am.”

“He asked (Y/N) out,” Scott says, “You just need to ask her out.”

~~~

Friday night was all excitement and butterflies as you walk around a strip mall with Andrew. The white fairy lights turn on when the sun sets, and you’re left walking on cobblestones and eating ice cream.

You were laughing at the ridiculous training regime that Coach was making the boys do in preparation for the state game.

“What is the benefit of running laps to the classroom and out to the field?”

“Coach makes us carry his stuff too and from his office,” Andrew mocks, “He makes it sound like an exercise, but really he just wants us to fetch his granola bars and energy drinks.”

You laugh again, “That sounds about right. How do you feel about the game?”

“Since switching to goalie it’s been hard figuring the plays out. But I think I’ve got the hang of it now.” He offers to throw away your empty ice cream cup and spoon.

The night so far had entailed a dinner at a little café outside the mall before looking in some of the stores for new summertime clothes. Andrew bought an outfit for you, shorts with little revealing tears in them and a strappy top that shows your scars way more than you’re used to.

You love that Andrew doesn’t question you about them.

Next was a stop at an ice cream parlor, taste testing different flavors before picking your favorites. The pair of you now walking around as the moon comes out, the trees adorned with white fairy lights.

You were walking so close to each other that you kept bumping arms. “Next time I want to show you my favorite antique shop downtown. It has some of the coolest things from every time period, and it’s connected to an old bookshop – one of the ones with tall ladders and a second floor just like in…”

“There’s going to be a next time?” Andrew says, sounding a little giddy. He was looking at you with pink dusting his cheeks.

You blush, “Is that alright?”

In reply, Andrew locks your fingers between his. “Very alright.” You stroll down the next street of cool fairy light, squeezing each other’s hands. “What were you saying about the old bookstore before I rudely interrupted you?”

You brush hair behind your ears, “Oh, just that it reminds me of the old bookstore from Beauty and the Beast… the one from her town.”

“You’re a fan of Disney?”

“Always,” you laugh, “With movies like The Princess and the Frog and The Emperor’s New Groove… how could you not be?”

Andrew snickers, “It’s because of Naveen, isn’t it?”

“Ah, Prince Naveen,” you groan, “You got me there.”

“Got to be honest though… Treasure Planet might be the best one yet.”

You pull on his arm, “I haven’t watched that in ages!”

Andrew side eyes you as his dimples come out, “So old antique shop and then movie night?”

You’re giddy at the thought of another date, “Sounds perfect.” You wander the streets just talking and laughing for another half hour before he offers to drive you home.

He holds your hand atop your lap the whole way.

Walking to your door, porchlight on as your parents wait for your return, you thank Andrew for a lovely evening.

“It’s nice after all the chaos the town’s been in the last month.”

He nods, “I had a really nice time with you, (Y/N).” He hands you the shopping bag with your new summer outfit, “I’ll text you a time for the next one.”

You smile wide as he takes a step closer, “I had fun too.” He was leaning down to your height, your chin rising to meet him.

In a quick mind-boggling moment, Andrew presses his lips to yours. He pulls away just an inch to see your reaction before moving further.

At your slight smile he leans in for more, kissing you more firmly and cupping your cheek. A sudden warmth blooms up your chest and into your face – and a beeping comes from your watch.

You break away suddenly, “God, sorry…” you cover the watch face with your hand. “Parents are waiting.”

Andrew licks his lips, all smiles as he says goodbye, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You slip inside and find your mom pruning a more successful chamomile plant at the dining table, no doubt planning to make tea with it. “Hello, honey…” she smirks, “Had a nice time?”

Checking your watch, you take a deep breath, your chest tight from something a little more than your racing heart. “The best.”

You had no idea that Stiles was burrowed beneath his blankets in bed, his phone lighting up his face is somber blue light. He watches the alert of your heart rate die down and knows in his gut that you probably had an exciting goodnight kiss on your date.

It sticks him with an ache he can’t shake for the rest of the night.

~~~

The weekend came with an invitation from Stiles in the most untoward manner. You were working on term projects for history and math when there was a sharp rapping on the window. Turning around you see Stiles waving on the roof.

Already smiling, you go to unlock the window and help him open it, “What are you doing here?”

“I came to ask you something.”

“And your phone is…?”

He shrugs, “More of a boring gesture than this.”

“And not coming to the door…?”

He screws his face up in a comical expression, “Again, this is a more interesting entrance.” And with a graceful slip of the hand, he falls forward through the window and crashes to the ground, “Ow!”

You grimace, hearing the floorboards squeak in the hall, “Shit, Stiles my parents will kill me if they knew you were sneaking up our roof!” In a frantic waving of your hands you shove him under your bed.

He does his now famous doggy-paddling across the hardwood floor.

“(Y/N), sweetie?” your mom calls as she enters your bedroom, “Oh – what was that noise? I thought you must’ve fainted and fell.”

You put your hands behind your back, looking around and finding Ollie still snoozing on the history textbook on your desk. He was so unbothered and not at all helpful. “Um… I dropped my math workbook,” you say quickly, “It’s pretty thick.”

Your mom looks to your hands to see the workbook and raises her eyebrows in question.

Choking on your words you look around and find the evidence on your bed covers, “See! I just picked it up when you walked in.”

Angela shakes her head, “Studying must be getting to you. Maybe you should take a break.”

You nod vigorously and thank your mother, closing your door and finding Stiles already trying to pull himself out from under your bed. His tongue was sticking out as he struggles.

“That was close,” you laugh, sitting on the floor with him, “Who knew you’d be such mischief.”

Stiles snaps his eyes to yours and flounders in his words, “I… you – did you…”

Your knees are inches away as you give him a quizzical look, “What?”

“My m-, my mom used to call me mischief.” His voice was quiet and wondering as he says it. He looks at you with a kind of awe; a freckle of sadness making his eyes glassy.

You suddenly feel warm, maybe from embarrassment – maybe from empathy. You couldn’t imagine a life without your mother. “A very fitting name for someone so mischievous.”

He chuckles, his smile subconscious, “That’s not the only reason she called me that. Um… I uh – my name isn’t actually Stiles.”

“I knew it,” you smirk.

“I actually have a polish name – my grandpa’s name. And it’s really hard to pronounce, so I’d pretty much stop at saying mischief cause that was as close as I could get.”

You raise your eyebrows, all curiosity, “And this name is…?”

He looks shy as he mumbles, “Mieczyslaw.”

“Mitchy-slav?”

He becomes shier as he repeats, “Yeah, Mieczyslaw. You can imagine why a young impressionable child would choose to go by something a little easier.”

You look at him fondly, “I like it. I like learning things about you.” You stand, taking his hand to pull him up, “Now what was the thing you wanted to ask me?”

“I wanted to know if you’d come hangout at my place tonight and meet my dad.”

“I already know your dad, Stiles.”

“Yeah, on a professional basis,” he mocks, “But… but you’ve never seen him without the badge on.”

You agree to come over that night and say you’ll bring a treat, which immediately strikes interest in Stiles. You plan accordingly, cooking all Saturday evening and dishing it in traveling containers. Placing them in a large take-out bag, you drive with your dad to the Stilinski bachelor pad.

You hope your gesture is kindly met.

“(Y/N)!” Stiles says with as much enthusiasm as one seeing someone for the first time in weeks. He’s awkward as he thinks of another way to greet you and is grateful when you go in for a hug. “Something smells delicious.”

You lift the large bag, “I told you I’d bring something.”

He leads you to the kitchen and you see Noah Stilinski looking over case files at the dining table. He looks stressed and wary until he spots you in the doorway.

“Ah, hello (Y/N). It’s nice to see you outside of the station…” he stands up, “… and outside of an ambulance.”

You laugh, going in for a hug that he wasn’t expecting, but loving it nonetheless. He holds you for a second longer as you say, “It’s about time.” He smells of whiskey. You gesture to the food in your bag, “I brought us dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Noah deadpans, “You spoil us.” He frantically tries to shuffle his case files into an orderly fashion, “I’m sorry it’s such a mess.” He moves his full whiskey glass and goes to put the decanter away.

“It’s okay,” you start to help, catching words like ‘murder’ and ‘Hale House.’ Stiles ran for some plates and forks. “There’s not always warning when Stiles makes plans.” You wonder how drunk the sheriff already is – the case must really be getting to him.

Noah chuckles, “You really know my son, then.” He seems awkward without the authority of his badge – like any other suburban dad. “He didn’t tell me you were bringing anything. Wait… did you cook that?” he points to your bag of containers.

“Yeah,” you say, helping Stiles set the table, “My specialty.”

Noah shakes his head, “I haven’t had a homecooked meal in…”

“Years,” Stiles snorts, “(Y/N) is the real deal, dad. Whatever she made will change your life.”

“He eats some chicken and rice and suddenly I’m a three-star Michelin chef.”

Stiles chortles, “Don’t forget those brownies. I’ll never be the same.”

You laugh as the boys sit down and you reveal the dinner you brought. A bowl of spicy Italian sausage, a plate of sliced garlic bread, and a dish of homemade mac and cheese topped with chopped parsley and green onion.

It was very quiet for the first few minutes, you placing a slice of garlic bread on each plate and ladling the cheesy noodles on top like an open-faced slider. You end with placing a few pieces of sausage on the side and passing the plates to the boys.

Stiles still can’t find the words as his dad says, “Did um…” he clears his throat. “Did Stiles tell you…”

You nod, feeling a presence there like nothing you had ever experienced before. “He said it was one of her signature dishes – a favorite of his.” You look to Stiles beside you and notice something glistening in his eyes.

You let them soak in the thoughtfulness of the gesture – what it actually signifies for them – and you start to eat on your own. Though it didn’t bring up any childhood memories of motherly love that it would for Stiles… it was still delicious.

“You’re right,” you say softly, “Like a fancy kids meal.”

Noah starts to chuckle, sniffing as he clears the emotion from his throat. He’s next to start eating his meal and the way he savors each bite is compliment enough. You wait for Stiles to start, very conscious of his quietness.

Stiles was never quiet.

He picks up the garlic bread laden with mac and cheese and takes a bite. He giggles like a schoolboy, “Wow.” He closes his eyes and you feel inclined to put your hand on his. Beneath the table, you wrap your fingers around his against his leg.

You rub your thumb in circles around his knuckles, watching him open his eyes and see tears there. “How is it?”

He sniffs, looking at you with wet eyes, “Like I remember.” He wipes at his face as you smile.

The rest of the meal continues with small talk and fond memories bringing up laughter. The sheriff finishes his whiskey and seems full and tired. Stiles keeps eating until there were no leftovers in sight.

He was now staring at the files of paperwork on the current Derek Hale case. You catch his eye and stand to wash dishes, “You finished, sheriff?”

“Oh no, I’ve got it,” Stiles slips out of his chair and takes the plates from your hands, “You just sit down, I’ll clean up.”

You smile to yourself as the sheriff looks more work wary, leaning on his hand and rubbing at his temples. “You bring out the best in him,” he says quietly, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him willingly wash a dish before.”

“He’s sweet,” you say. Realizing too late that that was another thing Mrs. Stilinski used to say all the time.

Noah nods, a little red in the cheeks from the alcohol, “He is. She always said so.”

You had a feeling the sheriff didn’t talk about his wife very much. “You seem a little put out.”

“It’s just this case,” he rubs hard at his face, “I’ve been staring at it for weeks and I know they’re all connected, but there’s something missing.”

“What are all connected?” you ask.

He points a finger at you, “I shouldn’t be telling you.”

“You know I’m not going to say anything, sheriff,” you say candidly, “I’m a hermit that makes very good mac and cheese in my spare time.”

He chuckles deep in his throat, quieter the drunker he is. “The thing is… the bus driver that got killed, he was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire.” He pulls on a paper with his fingertips, sliding it across the table.

You read it sideways as it moves. “’Terminated under suspicion of fraud.’”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed, he’s a convicted felon, history of arson. Two others in the woods… they had priors all over their records, including…”

“Arson…” you say to yourself. The true crime fan within you was a little tickled. It sounds like all the victims had something to do with the house fire six years ago. You look over your shoulder to see Stiles standing in the doorway. He had soapy water soaking the front of his shirt.

He puts a finger to his lips and listens.

“There’s just so many questions…” You don’t stop him for fear that he’ll register all that he’s telling you. “If Derek wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire, then why start with his sister? I mean, she had nothing to do with it. And why make it look like some kind of animal did it?”

You shake your head. It must be killing Stiles to know the real reason behind some of these things and not being able to share. He was protecting his dad from the supernatural. Just like how he was trying to protect you from it.

“You know the instances of wild animal reports were up 70% over the past few months? It’s like they’re going crazy and running out of the woods. I don’t know.” He hand a palm to his forehead, already dozing off.

You feel a little guilty as you lean in your chair.

“Hey, sheriff, can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart…”

You smile warmly as Stiles leans his head against the archway. “Would you be willing to call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night? It’s late and I don’t want to worry them. Stiles and I have some work to catch up on… our chemistry project and stuff. Now would be a really good time to get it done.”

The sheriff had a dopey smile on his face as he looks at you. He considers you while Stiles is having a heart attack in the kitchen.

“Sure thing,” he says, fumbling for his phone, “I know your parents worry about you.”

“It’ll sound better coming from you,” you say kindly, “Thank you, sheriff. And thank you for letting me stay.”

He scratches at his head as you stand, already dialing your mom’s number, “Hey, Angela. No, no – she’s fine. We’re taking good care of her… hey, listen. The kids want to work on some projects, and I wanted to offer to let her stay the night.” He rubs at his tired eyes, “Sure, sure… of course. It’s just late and I know Tom is at the firehouse tonight so… yeah, sure thing. We’ve got plenty of room. Yep, thanks Angela. Sure, bye bye.”

You’re walking towards Stiles with a stupid grin on your face, “Let’s go talk.”

“Night dad!” Stiles yells instantly, still in awe that you were able to pull that off.

Noah waves them off, “Don’t stay up too late.”

You pull Stiles’ hand and go upstairs. “I can’t believe that worked.” You find the bathroom but wait for Stiles to show you his room.

“Um… one second,” he holds up a finger and tells you to stay put. He rummages like a madman in his bedroom, knocking things over and slamming things shut. You picture mounds of clothes and old plates of food being shoved into the closet.

He’s breathing heavy when he opens the door again, “Okay, you can come in.” He holds open the door and you walk in to find a queen bed with ruffled blue sheets, a desk on the other side with bulletin boards hanging on the wall. One of the smaller ones had a blanket thrown over it.

You wonder how much decluttering Stiles did because it was still very messy. Papers, sticky notes, and red string were everywhere. “Cozy.”

He looks nervous, playing with his fingers and watching your expression, “I don’t… ha…” he fidgets with his soapy shirt, “I’ve never had a girl in my room before.”

You take a bow, “I’m honored.” You sit on the edge of his bed, “What your dad is investigating…”

“Derek… I know,” he sits at his desk chair. “He’s so close to figuring it all out. He just doesn’t know about the Alpha.”

“Was it bad of me to egg him on while he’s so clearly drunk?”

“No, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“Exactly,” you deadpan, smiling. “If the Alpha is killing people responsible for the fire, then Derek siding with him at the hospital…”

“… is probably because he wants people to pay for the fire as well.”

You rub your legs down to your knees, “And the Alpha just wants to become powerful again in his revenge.”

Stiles was tapping his fingers against the desk, “So was there any other reason why you wanted to stay the night? Because I know for a fact you already finished our chemistry project and it’s incubating in the lab right now.”

“Well, there have been a couple things I wanted to talk to you about.” You sit cross legged on the mattress and say, “Coach has been talking to me about Scott failing his classes.”

“Big surprise,” Stiles scoffs, “The guy thinks he can be some werewolf savior and graduate high school at the same time.”

You wince, “Finstock made a deal with the office. Scott can’t go to the winter formal.”

“Because he’s failing?” Stiles gawks.

“They wanted to kick him off the team, but Coach said… some strange things… and made the dance agreement.” You tilt your head to the side, “Are you still planning on going?”

Stiles spins around in his chair, fumbling over his words, “Um, er – yeah, technically. I was s-still planning on it. Why… might I ask?”

You sigh, “Allison will need someone to ask her out.”

He was caught off guard, “I’m sorry, what? Me ask Allison to the dance.”

“It makes sense!” you say, “With Scott’s savior complex he’s going to want everyone under supervision in case the Alpha decides to take us out one at a time.”

There was a hesitance in the way Stiles kept spinning around in the chair. He seems grumpy, “Why can’t Jackson ask her?”

“You don’t want to go with Allison?’

“Well, I…” he was biting his lips, “I don’t know. Are you going?”

“I think Andrew is going to ask me on our next date.”

Stiles bangs a foot against the desk and nearly slips out of the chair, “A second date? Already?”

You smile, going a little red, “We had a good time and… we may or may not have kissed.”

A horrible sinking feeling enters Stiles’ stomach. His heart clenches painfully and the sudden desire to hurt Wickstrom came on hard and fast. “And… you liked it.”

“It was a nice change of pace from my usual,” you try to hide your smile, “I haven’t been kissed in a while.”

Stiles waves his hands around, “Woah, woah, woah… you’ve been kissed before? I thought you were a hermit that made mac and cheese.”

“And I have the occasional neighbor boy kiss me,” you laugh, “There was Easton from down the street when I was thirteen and then Adam who was visiting from San Fransico over the summer when I was fifteen. Not to mention, nimrod, that Scott kissed me just the other week.”

“Oh my god,” he wipes a hand across his face, “How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Get people to kiss you?”

You squint your eyes, folding your arms, “Are you telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

Stiles squirms in his chair, swinging it back and forth. “Maybe.”

“Ah, Stiles!” you bounce on his bed, “That’s so sweet.”

He groans, “Don’t tell me it’s sweet. It freaking sucks. All of my friends are getting their jollies off and I am left here in the dust with the driest lips this side of the valley.” His arms hang limp at his sides, “Is it nice?”

You giggle, “It can be. I think it only ever is when you kiss someone you like. It’s just… god, it’s hard to explain.” But Stiles was leaning in like the most attentive student. “There’s something really vulnerable about it, which leaves you wide open to feel anything and everything. You’re scared to death of course, especially with someone you like. But the bliss you feel after doing it is like nothing else.”

Stiles purses his lips, “Is that how the Andrew kiss went?”

“Almost.”

That raises his eyebrows, “I thought you really liked him.”

“I do, but I kind of have this new rule since the summer with Adam from San Fransico,” you hold up a hand, “I can’t date seriously. I can’t get too involved with any guy. So I’ll have to tell Andrew to stop eventually if this keeps going well.”

Stiles frowns, a punch to the gut, “Why can’t you date seriously?”

“Personal choice.”

“Because of what?” You smile and he groans, “Let me guess, it’s another story for another day.”

You use a finger gun on him, “Precisely, you’re catching on.” But the smile starts to dip from your face as you look at him. You lick your lips and say, “How about this. If you don’t have your first kiss by junior year… I’ll kiss you.”

The chair creaks as Stiles nearly falls from it, feet kicking out, “What!?”

“I’ll kiss you. We’ll make a kiss pact. I don’t want you getting too far into high school without having been kissed. The first one is always nerve-wracking anyway. It probably won’t be as meaningful as getting surprised with it by someone you really like, but it might be the next best thing.”

Stiles was losing his marbles, little fireworks exploding behind his eyes and falling like sparklers into his chest. “Okay.”

You smile at his goofy expression, “Now, can I borrow those sweats again? And maybe a t-shirt?”

He was still looking at you with sparklers in his eyes, “Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” He went to rummage through his dresser.

A few minutes later you were both in pajamas, having taken turns to use the bathroom to brush your teeth – you just using toothpaste and your finger – and standing in Stiles’ bedroom. You had dark sweats and an oversized shirt. With how broad Stiles’ shoulders were, the shirt hung low on your frame.

His throat was bobbing when he saw you standing there, pillows and blankets on the ground. “You good?”

You yawn, “Yep.” You meet him at the makeshift nest on the ground and nudge him, “Move please.”

“Oh, no this is for me,” he says, “You get the bed.” Standing so close to each other, you have to look up at him.

“I’m the guest, Stiles. You use your bed and I’ll count the dust bunnies under the bed.” You smile at the deep frown on his face.

He shakes his head, “Not gonna happen.”

“Fine,” you say, crawling onto his bed, “We can share.”

He chokes on his spit and starts coughing, “Share the bed?”

“Is that okay?” you look at him innocently.

That look combined with you wearing his clothes was sending him over the edge. His stomach was full of butterflies tickling the tightness in his ribcage. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. In one night he had a girl in his room, said girl promised to kiss him, and now wanted to share a bed with him.

“Um… I kind of sleep in the middle of the mattress. I don’t want you to wake up to me invading your personal space.”

You laugh, “That’s fine, I can just shove you away.”

He nods, but is lost for words, going to turn off the light while you get comfortable. He’s back in the darkness and hesitates, “Are you su…”

“Get in the bed, Stilinski,” you mumble, already buried in his woodsy honey scented sheets. You feel the mattress dip as he finds his pillow. His knee knocks into your leg, and he apologizes. He shuffles down further and pulls up the blanket, rubbing his arm against yours, and he apologizes again.

“It’s fine, Stiles,” you laugh, “We’re bound to touch being this close.”

He swallows hard, staring at the ceiling as you cuddle further into your pillow, blanket tucked under your chin. “Goodnight,” you mumble.

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, (Y/N).” In the dark of his bedroom and the warm, calm presence of you beside him, it gave him a sense of ease. He takes a deep breath and says, “Thank you for the dinner today. It… meant a lot.”

You hum in reply, “You’re welcome.”

The last thing he remembers is turning on his side to face you already asleep. Your mouth was a little open and the pillow was squashing your cheek. Your hair was wild behind you and the shirt you borrowed was low enough that he could see the scar above your heart. You look more beautiful than ever laying there.

He wanted to know what you were holding back. He wanted to know what he had to do to give you the same feelings he was having.

And with thoughts of you looking beautiful in his bed, he fell asleep too.

~~~

Hours later you wake groggily to a still dark room. Stiles was standing and pulling his shoes on, phone in his hand. You groan and shift the covers closer to your body.

“Where are you going?” you ask half-asleep.

Stiles freezes at your words, “Uh… werewolf business. You can just stay here…” he walks over to your nearly asleep figure, “I’ll come back later.”

You don’t reply and he thinks you’re already back to sleep. It makes him smile. He bends down to tuck the covers a little tighter around you and… he hesitates, looking at your face. He swallows hard and leans down to place a kiss to your head.

“Sweet dreams.”

~~~

Taglist: @assassinsasha23 @tasty-book-fans @lovelybaka @the-fandom-queen @runs-with-sciss0rs @iamaslytherin0 @n3muru @bethsvrse @taylorbrooke-0912 @iloveyou2mia @everrrsincenewyork @gisellesprettylies

[creedslove]

The Millers 💖

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: an insight of Joel's married life with you and fatherhood of a little boy

Inspired by this post after I fell in love with the idea of Joel being a dad to a baby boy 💙

Warnings: fluff and Joel Miller being the best husband and father in the world

A/N: idk besties, I love Joel and I want him to be happy 😭🥺

1.6k words

When Joel had Sarah, everything was harder; he was too young to take that much of a responsibility by himself and yet he did it. Giving up his dream and short term plans, he saw himself seeking a steady job to provide for himself and his baby daughter, and for that he worked hard. Joel Miller had to work his ass off in order to make sure his family would be well taken care of. However, he loved that tiny little baby girl with all his heart, and it was that love that gave him the strength and the perseverance to fight things off and make sure his daughter had everything he could give her. Luckily to him, he did a pretty good job at raising her, stated fact as she blossomed into a beautiful, lovely and kind-hearted young woman, who gave him nothing but happiness and pride when she managed to get into a top-notch university, after all, she was the smartest kid he'd ever met.

He didn't know exactly what to do after he dropped her off in college, returning to the home that had been filled with her presence, her laughter, her joy and her things, was now a home Joel would have to live in alone and occasionally sharing with his laid-back brother. He was still fairly young, he had a successful business and he thought he would spend his next decades leading a quiet, comfortable life, with a lot of work, some fun, some night stands and that was it.

Meeting you wasn't planned, but it ended up being one of the best, sweetest surprises life had given him, and still, he had never thought it would end up in marriage. He figured you two would be together until you got tired of him and found someone better, he wouldn't blame you, he always thought you deserved more, even if it broke his heart. Turns out you didn't want anyone better, younger or wealthier, you wanted him, exactly like he wanted you, so despite Joel being a stubborn man, you showed him your love and you ended up married to the love of your life. Not bad at all.

However, he had never thought of having a second child. Not that he was against it, but he just figured it wouldn't happen at all, he had gone through all of it with Sarah, so he didn't see himself restarting it from the very beginning… that is until you came with a positive pregnancy test and Joel realized he was going to be a father. You were going to be a mother and you two would become parents. It took him some seconds to let the news sink in, he was shocked, he was not going to lie… he knew you two should've discussed the possibility of having kids and how that would affect your marriage and daily life, but since you were already pregnant, he saw that ship had already sailed.

He was terrified, but also couldn't hide the fact he was so happy to be doing that with you, before he knew it would be different than the first time, where he had to handle a newborn on his own and became a single parent, instead you would do it as a couple, together, building up a family, you were about to become The Millers and he fucking loved that.

Over the course of his life, Joel had to learn to be a girl dad, task that wasn't easy at all, he had no idea one day he would have to learn about Disney princesses, and Barbies, and My Little Pony shit and all the sparkly glittery Sarah was so crazy about when she was a kid. And for a rough guy like himself, he had done a decent job. Which was why his whole perspective had changed the moment he learned you and him were having a little boy.

Joel felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, it was the second time you nearly gave him a heart attack during your marriage. It was so new to him, to know that in a matter of months he was having a little boy. He thought of all the things he would like to do some day, such as teach him how to play the guitar, take him to sports matches, play soccer after Sunday lunches, take him to work… there was just an infinity of things he could try. He was excited.

When you and Joel decided to turn the guest room into nursery, was when he began wondering if his son would be the dinosaur kind of kid, or if he would be into space stuff, animals, or whatever, and just to be safe, Joel bought some of each of the items; that way his little boy could choose whatever he wanted and Joel would be a proud dad not matter what.

Three years after you broke the news to him, Joel prepared himself to leave home and come back home every night to his beautiful wife and his sweet little toddler. It terrified him how time flew by and in the blink of an eye, his beautiful Samuel Miller went from a tiny little baby, to a sweet chatty toddler, and in a matter of time he would become a teen and then an adult. It felt like an exaggeration, but that was what happened to Sarah. He just didn't want to miss out on his son's life, he didn't want to waste precious family moments by working too much. Money was a need, but so was his family, and that was why Joel hated the fact he had to work until that late, he knew you would be gladly waiting for him, but Sammy would be just asleep by the time he finally made it back home. He sighed, as he really enjoyed spending time playing trucks, cars, or blocks with his little man.

He got off his truck and walked to the door, opening it to find a nearly quiet home, the sound of TV was there, though it was low enough for him to be aware you were still awake, but he was sure his boy was already in bed. That was why it made Joel so surprise to moment he saw a tiny little thing waddling towards him, his messy little brown curls showed he had already got cuddles from his mommy, which caused him to he sleepy, judging by the way he rubbed his tired little brown eyes - exactly like Joel's.

"Daddy?" He whispered and smiled tiredly the moment he spotted Joel, rushing to him and hugging him tight, giggling adorably the moment his daddy lifted him up and tiny arms wrapped around Joel's neck. "Miss you daddy"

"Miss you too, Sammy… were you nice to your mommy? Did you take good care of her?" He saw his son nodding obediently and you resting against the doorframe, smiling at them. Your heart was a puddle of love each time you saw how good Joel was with your little boy. You walked to them, caressing Sammy's head gently and pecked Joel's lips

"There's dinner for you" you winked at your husband and got his plate out of the oven, as it was still warm and placed it on the table. You walked to him and tried taking Sammy, but he shook his head "no mommy, stay with daddy please" he gave you the puppy eyes and then turned to Joel "can we play trucks after dinner, daddy?" He asked with a yawn and rested his little body against his dad's stomach, fighting sleep as hard as he could.

While Joel ate, Sammy just stayed quiet, his small hands gripping his daddy's wrist and holding his watch. He shook his head when Joel offered him some food, all he wanted was to play trucks with his daddy.

Joel was still hungry and he was eager to finish that amazing plate you'd made him, but he couldn't simply continue eating while his boy wanted to spend precious time with him. He wrapped his arm gently around Sammy's tummy and got up, taking his son with him

"Daddy is done eating, let's play now, okay? But let's play in your room because our trucks are so noisy and we can't bother mommy" he tickled his son, as he used his trick to convince Sammy to play a little in bed before tucking him in. Sammy on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement, he rubbed his tired eyes once more, but this time the giggles came easy as he was taken to his bed by his father. He sat down comfortably and asked Joel to pick his yellow and blue truck: it was his favorite, given by his big sister Sarah on his last birthday. The man smiled at the thought of it, how his kids were adorable, even if the age gap between them was expressive, Sarah was every bit of sweet to her baby brother, and Sammy simply loved her. He handed his son the truck and sat by the edge of the bed. As they engaged in the activity, Sammy told his daddy silly nothings, giggled and smiled, until he was overpowered by sleep. He lay down in bed, and Joel placed the truck on the floor, taking the fluffy dinosaur blanket and covered Sammy. His big hand caressed his son's beautiful face. He might look like Joel, but he was every bit of sweet and lovely as his mommy, you, the woman Joel loved the most and he was so thankful for having given him the best present a man could have: a family.

"Night night daddy"

"Night Sammy, daddy loves you"

"I love you too, daddy"

____

[vashtijoy]

Idk if you’ve talked about this before, but in the event where ren and akechi are playing that shooting game together there is a very funny interaction and my fellow shuake fans and I are unsure what it means.

In English, Akechi jokes that he’s practicing gunplay to take ren out. Clearly this could either be a murder joke or a date joke. In Spanish, he apparently uses a phrase that can only mean a date.

What does he say in japanese? Was it ambiguous there too or was it clearly a murder joke or date joke? Again, sorry if you already explained it lol

…also this is kinda awkward but was the usage of the term gunplay intentional or does it have multiple meanings and fanfic has just ruined me orrr…

Hello! I am so happy to be able to go over this with you. Many thanks to @platinumdream, @minkhollow42, @somethingpersonarelated and the r/spanish subreddit for verifying this one for me.

This line stands out because the Japanese and English (and also the Spanish) translations are all radically different—different enough that what we have here is a stellar example of "the Xerox effect".

Let's take a look.

the scene in japanese

Akechi 気付いた? そうだよ、いつか君も懐に忍ばせたこれで⋯ kizuita? sou da yo, itsuka kimi mo futokoro ni shinobaseta kore de... [lit. you noticed? that's right, some day <see below>...]

Let's take a quick look at the grammar of this line, which I think is dual-meaning in Japanese just as it was in English (and if any of this seems like bullshit please get in touch, as it never ends well when I try to produce sentences of my own):

Akechi does not finish this sentence—he's left off the verb. So, as often happens with him, his meaning is ambiguous. Let's take the obvious one first:

いつか君も懐に忍ばせたこれで【ある】 itsuka kimi mo futokoro ni shinobaseta kore de [aru] Some day you, too, will have one of these concealed in your pocket.

Short and sweet: "I carry one of these, concealed, and some day you will too". Note that there's nothing here about practicing, as there is in the English.

But there's another possible meaning here:

いつか君も懐に忍ばせたこれで【撃ってあげる】 itsuka kimi mo futokoro ni shinobaseta kore de [utte ageru] Some day I'll [shoot] you, too, with this thing concealed in my pocket.

WELP. Like I say, I'm not entirely sure, but I do think the strong likelihood is that this dual meaning exists in Japanese.

I should say I don't think there's necessarily a suggestion here that he carries an illegal gun (though since Naoto has one in P4, it's very possible)—I think it's a metaphorical pocket, his inventory in the Metaverse.

Though I don't think this is really what's going on, there are also a startling number of idioms with futokoro that suggest embracing....

but what is the futokoro?

Idiomatically speaking, 懐 futokoro often translates pretty cleanly as "pocket". But something else is going on: your futokoro is explicitly your breast pocket.

Originally, it was the flap in the front of your kimono where you tucked things away. And so it also appears in a lot of idioms relating to the bosom, or the heart. 懐に飛び込む futokoro ni tobikomu is to throw yourself into someone's arms. 懐に入る futokoro ni hairu, for instance, means to worm your way into someone's affections, or to win someone's confidence—sound familiar at all?

But there's something else going on, of course, with Akechi concealing a weapon in his breast pocket:

Yep. Here's the payoff for this line in rank 5. Akechi tucks that silencer away in his breast pocket—just like he told Joker he would. And then he laughs. So did he know at rank 5 that this was going to happen, or did he bring this up for some other reason? Well, you decide.

By the way, here's Joker's question about gunplay:

Joker 撃ち慣れてる? uchi nareteru? Are you used to gunplay?

The Japanese just means "Are you used to shooting guns?"—I'm not sure it has any of the more, er, fanfic connotations of the English "gunplay". @specterthief agrees there doesn't seem to be any innuendo to the Japanese line.

the scene in english

Akechi: Ah, you noticed? Well, I'll need as much practice as I can get if I'm going to take you out.

Let's look at what's happening here, because it happens very often. Like much of Akechi's dialogue, this line in rank 5 was originally a double entendre—it has a very obvious, and relatively innocuous, meaning, but if you squint, you can see Akechi is hinting at something far less innocuous.

Wordplay of this kind takes a lot of time, thought and skill to translate. So what happens in practice is that the translator has to choose one meaning to put front and centre. The English translator has decided, very reasonably, that Akechi's implied "I will kill you" is more important than the joke about the concealed weapon.

To be clear, this was probably the right call. I love the relative subtlety of the Japanese and the 11/20 callback, but it's important that people playing the game understand what's going on—even if, over here in blorboland, it's clear that He Would Not Fucking Say That.

the scene in spanish

Do sit down.

Akechi: ¿Te has dado cuenta? Bueno, tengo que practicar todo lo que pueda si quiero invitarte a salir.

Now, I need to be as up front as I can possibly be about the fact that I do not speak Spanish. But I know a lot of people who do, and they have responded with one voice:

...

"Ask you out"? "ASK YOU OUT"?????

This is what is meant by "the Xerox effect".

We start in Japanese, with the relatively subtle "I have a concealed weapon", which becomes "I'm going to shoot you with a concealed weapon" if you think about it a little more. Then, in English, we become more blatant, with "take you out" having the up front meaning that Akechi will shoot Joker; rather than being subtext, it's now the point of what he's saying. And it's introduced something new—the alternate alternate meaning, of "take you out [on a date]".

It is possible that the Japanese line has a third meaning, very similar to this reading of "take you out"—you would have to torture the context here to get dating from the English, in the same way you'd have to torture the Japanese to get embracing from it.

But there's no torture in the Spanish. Oh, no. Spanish Akechi, as they say, just fucking goes for it. and why the hell not.

but what happened here?

The Spanish localisation is an indirect translation, translated not from the Japanese original, but from the existing English translation. It retains any and all errors in the English script because of this. And when the Spanish translator looked at this line of Akechi's, they saw not the original Japanese dual meaning, the one the English translator saw, but the one the English translator introduced—the dual meanings of the English "take you out".

And the Spanish translator, again, had to choose which of Akechi's seeming dual meanings to keep. Should they keep the line about shooting Joker? Or should they keep the line about taking Joker on a date?

Just like photocopying a photocopy, detail and accuracy are progressively lost, and errors accumulate. Of course, these indirect translations are not without their positives—translating from English allows for a far wider range of translations to be done quicker and more cheaply. Without them, far fewer languages would see official translations at all.

Also, it's really funny and that Spanish translation is a gift.

revision history

click here for the latest version.

v1.1 (2024/01/11)—confirmed no innuendo on uchi nareteru.

v1.0 (2024/01/10)—first posted.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Happy Birthday, Norton Campbell

Rated Mature | None

To the second hunter and survivor I ever wrote since playing IDV (the first was Morningstar!Ithaqua and High Roller!Orpheus) and had tried to go against during his event (he rocked me a lot), this is for you babe!

Norton Campbell

“You know what they say about Pisces?” You say as lay on top of him wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

He uncovers his face where he places his arm to look at you. The look of ‘What weird thing did you come up with this time?’ because you are one to say the most outlandish things. He won’t say it but it is often appreciated when his thoughts are not pleasant, “What do they say?” Tired, not of you— Well, he tired because of you and that boundless energy of yours. God, you and Lucky Guy are always ready to go.

“... I don't know.” You forgot or probably had no idea where you were going with that.

“You are lucky I love you or I would have kicked you out.” Covering his face again.

“Out of my own room!? Naked? Wow!” Sitting up causes the sheets to shift and expose your bare chest but the lower half is still covered, “After I gave the best birthday gift too, boo!”

“How do you still have energy?” Mumbling.

“I have to keep up with you, both of you.”

“Agh.” Norton does not want to think about how Fool’s Gold is going to demand a birthday gift too, “Do me a favor and blue ball him.”

“Norton, you won't let me top and you expect me to do denial on him? Hah, no.” Using a modern term for being the dominant one, supposedly. You simplify a lot of your bedroom explanations to him.

“At least, make him work for it.” Moving to lay on his side with his arms wrapped around you.

Fool’s Gold

There is no dressing up for this, he would not appreciate it like his counterpart likes seeing you in lace. Simple lingerie, especially when he can rip it off. No, the hunter likes simply having you on your knees playing your role. He has not forgotten about this, about how it turned him on.

“Bark.” Commanding you. His legs wide open while he sits in the chair made for the hunters.

You are on your knees with your arms up partly as you copy a dog stance while standing, “Arf!” Barking a little too easily, the usual grin on his face widening at the sight of you degrading yourself as his gift. “Woof!” He pulls on the makeshift leash that is his belt.

“Open your mouth for your treat.” His fully formed hand is tugging at your bottom lip, “Tongue out.” Unzipping his pants, unbuttoning it so he has room to pull out that thick reconstructed cock. Pulsing with the purple glow. Tugging you so your breath is hot on his cock. Oh, he likes this sight with his thick nonhuman cock on your tongue weighing heavy.

The way you remain in place waiting for his command, and even better how soon he is going to see tears of pleasure running down that pretty face of yours.

“Go on, suck your treat up.” Norton definitely likes this. You normally would not do this again after the last time he did this with you, but it seems mercy is on his side.

A wish is granted for his birthday.

Soul Catcher

Mortals. All of them from animals to humans, their lives are fleeting, finite, he did not understand why he must assist in preserving these souls. They all will return to the land of the living upon reincarnation, to suffer and struggle. He sits watching a soul that captives him these days, singing a song and often messing up the lyrics, you currently are doing chores. Nothing special about this life or how you live it.

A plain soul, he found the company of such a domestic person a change of pace, a way to see the beauty of life before he claimed it for death. Soon you will follow like all mortal things.

“A celebration of life and another,” You explain, “Though you are not alive, we should still celebrate the contribution you give to all life.” Smiling as you hand him a poncho you created for him. “Death is equally as important as life.”

A birthday, he has no need for such a thing but the gift is given to him, here in this field of cut wheat, the window blowing softly as he stands up and puts on the article of clothing.

“It looks great on you!” Clapping your hands together, “Do you like it?”

“I do.” A quiet one as he often keeps to himself, “Thank you.” He does not have a need for this, yet he does not want to say that nor want you to think him ungrateful. The Soul Catcher touches it fondly as this will be treasured like all the memories he will have of you when the time comes to collect your soul.

Highway Cavalier

“Hiya, speedster.” Waving to him before leaning on the door of his car, “Practicing?”

“No, just checking on the girl before Luca and Demi kick me out for the day.” The engine sounds clear as he revs it and slowly winds it down, “You?”

“Soon, I need to test run the Mach Two before the entry races next week.”

“You've been test-running the damn thing all week.” Shutting the car off, “Join us later.”

“You know I can't, speedster. I gotta do my checks and do my practice laps—”

“Yes, you can because it's my birthday.” He grins, leaning in close towards you.

“What!?” You cover your face, “Oh, my God, Norton, why didn't you tell me?! I could've gotten you a gift or something.”

“I'm mentioning it now and the only gift I want is to see you at the bar getting drinks with us.” Pinching your cheek when you uncover your face to pout, “Maybe a kiss or two for an extra gift too.” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively before laughing when you hit his arm.

“Silly man as if I don't already kiss you enough,” Rolling your eyes playfully.

The Orphan of Goetia

“A mutual gift for both of us to enjoy the desires of the flesh.”

Infernal Sin, King of the Seventy-Two demons of Hell, the Lord of the damned, has gifted him what they both desire. Norton’s heart is the Infernal Sin's heart only with a human host, he feels what the other feels too.

“I am such a benevolent King, aren't I?” A rhetorical

question as he laughs with glee, “Well!? Go on! Indulge.” Here in this bedroom of red lights and sheets of silk, a heavy smell of wine and iron, Norton is unsure if he should even touch you.

There you sit wrapped up with large fabric ribbons presenting you as a gift. The makeup on your face waa done by that worshiper obsessed with the demonic king and him. You look away, gagged with a ball held by leather straps.

“Go on. This is for us.”

You are laid back, the Orphan of Goetia and the Infernal Sin above you, the hands you feel however are only Norton’s. Carefully unwrapping you, freeing you but you remain on the bed. His hands remove the gag, his mouth on yours immediately desperately.

The sensation of a rocky hand sliding up your legs before slipping between them.

The King once told you here you will find heaven or hell, here you can be worshiped or be made to grovel. He will— They will have you one way or another.

“This is…” Norton speaking with laboring breath, “(Name)...” His lips on your skin, your neck to chest, a trail of hickeys following.

“Norton.” Moaned out as the monster enjoyed himself preparing you, “Please, God.” Thick fingers preparing you, it is as if he knows just how to touch you.

“Not God, us. From now on it will only be us.” The demon king says— Promises.

Mining Director

“You can open them.” Saying as the dining room table is covered with gifts sent to him. Perks of being the most desired and envied man in the mining business— With a hand in other businesses and politicians. Norton Campbell made himself the most powerful man both in the public eye and behind the scenes. “Useless junk.”

You sit there unsure what to say or do given his mood today. It is his birthday and though he has a ton of gifts and riches fit for a king, you had hoped he would celebrate with you… Like old times… When you were both two kids trying to make it in the cold world.

“What?” Norton says, he sees you not moving from your spot, his eyes go to the small box in your hand.

“It's nothing.” Putting the box down, turning around ready to leave the room. The boy you loved, that boy has grown up into a materialistic man. You married him because you love him, but you wonder if he loves you… If that boy is still there wanting to play with you like always.

“Wait,” Grabbing your arm, “Is this for me?” Looking at the poorly made box.

“... No point in asking. It's with the rest of the junk.” Sounding every bit hurt.

Norton curses in Spanish under his breath before pulling you into his arms and squeezing you, “Mi Vida, nothing you give me is junk.”

You hide your face in his chest embarrassed by your feelings of inadequacy, he has the world and you want to show him your love.

“Let me open it.” Opening it while still hugging you, “Hah! You found the old thing!?” Pulling out the old toy model car he would play with as a kid, “Can't believe it. Thought the old man sold it.”

“I found it when visiting the old neighborhood. The pawn shop had it on display and I… I hope you like it, Norton.”

He drops the box to touch the toy, this small piece of the past. When he was a boy, he used to play with this car pretending to be a racer. The grand places he would imagine with you in tow chasing after him.

“Norton?”

His face is buried in the crook of your shoulder, you touch his hand as you feel him trembling against you. 

[inkmonster21]

I re read your Noa story like all the time. It's soo good. 😌 But I was wondering if I can request something, I hope it makes sense to...

Where reader and Noa have like mated but an attack happened on the village and they got separated for some time, and after like maybe a year later Thier CHILD comes wondering across their new buit village and then leads Noa to his mumma. Where they reunited and Noa's like 'ima father?'

I pretty sure the baby apes grow quickly, but I don't know how fast.

Thank you so so much! We’re getting close to wrapping it up so I’m so glad I’m getting some requests in! I hope I met your expectations! Enjoy!

~o0o~

The Lost is Found

The early months of life with Noa were a period of bliss. You were warmly accepted into the clan, and your place by Noa's side felt natural and purposeful. Dar, in her role as the clan's mother, took you under her wing, teaching you the ways and traditions of their community. You blossomed under her wisdom, and she was immensely proud of how you embraced your role as Noa's mate and the clan's emerging mother.

Noa trudges in after a long hunt with the young apes, exhaustion clear on his face. His horse carries three of them, while Noa walks alongside, his steps weary yet determined. Despite the exhaustion, a weary smile graces his features, evidence of a successful and fulfilling hunt.

As you watch Noa and the young apes return from the hunt, a warm sense of joy fills your heart. You can't help but imagine the future and the children that you and Noa will have someday. The sight of the young apes learning and growing under Noa's guidance is both a comforting and hopeful image, a vision of the future you and Noa would build together.

Noa proved himself to be an exceptional leader amongst the Eagle Clan, and you did not doubt that he would also be an incredible father. His strength, wisdom, and compassion would undoubtedly translate into his role as a parent. You envisioned him nurturing and guiding your future children with love and patience.

Noa leans his head against yours, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. "I have… missed you," he says, using your own words and making you laugh with the echo of your term. The genuine affection and longing in his voice are evident, as he communicates his feelings in his unique way.

"I missed you too," you reply, the words coming effortlessly and filled with genuine affection. There's something special about the simple exchange between the two of you, a subtle reassurance and connection that deepens the bond you share.

Noa's eyes soften at your words, a sense of comfort and contentment settling within him at the sound of your voice. He wraps his arms around you, wanting to be close and to hold you tight after spending the day away. "I've been thinking… about you all day," he confesses, his voice filled with a mixture of tiredness and affection.

“Well, here I am.” You smile. Noa's lips curve into a warm smile at your words. "Here you are," he agrees, pulling you even closer. The simple statement carries a sense of relief and contentment as if your presence alone is enough to soothe his weary soul.

“Noa…. Come on… show us how to skin!” Noa glances towards the young apes, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as they excitedly holler for him to come and show them how to skin the kill. He sighs, a mixture of weary and fondness on his face. "Alright, alright," he responds with a hint of humor, reluctantly untangling himself from your embrace.

You stand back and watch with a smile as Noa begins to show the young apes how to skin the animal. There's a sense of contentment and satisfaction in your heart, knowing that life is good and that you are truly happy. Watching Noa engage with the younger ones, passing on his skills and wisdom, fills you with pride and contentment.

Night has fallen, and the world outside is quiet. Wrapped in each other’s arms, you find comfort and safety in Noa’s embrace. Your breath is steady and even, having been completely drained of energy by Noa’s previous activities. In the quiet of the night, he gently traces your body with his calloused fingers, an intimate and soothing gesture.

Exhaustion finally takes over, and both of you drift off to sleep in each other's arms. Noa's breath is slow and steady, his body relaxed as he dozes off. The peacefulness of the moment washes over you, and the weariness of the day fades as you both surrender to sleep.

Noa is awakened by the frenzied shaking and whispered words of Anaya. With a groggy and disoriented expression, he rubs his eyes and sits up. The urgency in Anaya's voice immediately captures his attention, and he listens intently, trying to make sense of the hurried words. "under attack," Noa quickly turns to you, his voice urgent as he gently shakes you awake. "Wake up, my love… wake up," he repeats, his hands cupping your face tenderly. The worry and concern in his eyes mirror the seriousness of the situation.

As you slowly open your eyes and see the worried expression in Noa's eyes, your focus sharpens in an instant. Concern mixes with adrenaline, and you instantly understand the seriousness of the situation. Your heart begins to race, your mind clearing and readying for whatever challenges you may face.

Noa stands quickly, his movements purposeful and determined. "Go with Mother," he instructs. "Gather the young... find somewhere safe." The mysterious threat hangs in the air, a constant tension that demands immediate action. Noa's voice is firm and resolute as he readies his battle weapons, preparing to face the unknown danger.

Noa pulls you close, pressing your body against his as he claims your lips in a searing kiss. The heat and intensity of the moment convey both his passion and his worry. The kiss is filled with a sense of urgency and possession as if he's expressing his love and protectiveness in a single gesture.

You look into his eyes, your voice firm and unwavering. "Come back to me," you say, the words carrying a mix of love and worry. There's a silent plea in your gaze, a silent entreaty for him to return safely. Noa's eyes soften, and he takes your face in his hands, his touch gentle yet strong. "I will," he promises, his voice filled with determination and love.

With Dar by your side, you lead a group of young apes through the dense woods, seeking a safe hiding spot from the mysterious threat. The females form a protective circle, huddling together with worried expressions on their faces. You can feel the tension in the air, the fear and uncertainty palpable in the young apes' quiet hoots. As you press forward, the only thing on your mind is ensuring the safety of the young ones in your care and finding a secure place to hide.

The sound of Noa's yell pierces through the night, freezing the blood in your veins. "Noa," you gasp, your voice filled with worry. Without hesitation, you turn to go back, intent on reaching Noa. However, Dar attempts to grab your arm, trying to hold you back. But your determination is strong, and you quickly shake off her grip, turning to run back in the direction of Noa's voice.

Running through the dark forest, driven by your worry and instinct to reach Noa, you trip and stumble down a hill. Unarmed and vulnerable, you roll several feet before finally coming to a stop, the impact knocking you unconscious. The sound of your fall echoes faintly through the forest, swallowed by the silence of the night.

The once-thriving Eagle Clan lies in ruins, reduced to ashes and charred remains. Noa, Anaya, and the other members of the clan had put up a fierce battle, but the threat had left nothing behind, leaving only destruction in its wake. The sight of your home reduced to rubble and ash fills your heart with a mix of anger, grief, and emptiness.

Noa and the remaining survivors of the Eagle Clan gather together, their faces grim and determined. They begin to scour the area, searching for any signs of their lost friends and family, hoping to find anyone who may have escaped the wrath of the attack. The silence is deafening, the only sounds coming from the shuffling of feet and the occasional call of an ape as they look through the rubble.

The surviving members of the Eagle Clan have gathered in a cave away from the ruined settlement. The apes huddle together, seeking comfort and safety in each other's presence. The tension is high, a mix of fear and uncertainty in the air. They hope for the best, but the recent attack has left scars on each of them, and their future is uncertain.

Noa enters the cave, a weary yet relieved smile on his face. He had searched through every inch for you, his heart heavy with worry until he caught sight of your figure in the cave. Dar's eyes soften when she sees him, her expression filled with both relief and sorrow. She understands the gravity of the situation and the devastation the attack has brought upon the clan.

Noa's voice is soft and trembling with worry as he asks, "Where is she?" There's a mixture of fear and hope in his eyes as he scans the faces of the apes surrounding him, searching for any sign of you. The other apes look at each other, their expressions a mix of worry and uncertainty. They know the truth, but the news is difficult to share.

Soona speaks up, his voice is soft and regretful as he informs Noa, "She went after you... We couldn't find her." The words hang in the air, confirming Noa's worst fears. A wave of worry and despair washes over his face, his heart clenching in his chest.

"No." Noa mutters, more to himself than to the others. The mere thought of you being lost tears at his heart. Without another word, he turns urgently to leave, determined to go back and search for you. With the first light of dawn, Noa continues his relentless search, combing through every inch of the burned settlement. But despite his fervent efforts, he finds no trace of you. The hours pass and the sun rises higher in the sky, but Noa persists in his search, his determination fueling him forward.

You slowly awaken, the warmth of the sun gently coaxing you back into consciousness. Groggily, you lift your head, blinking as your senses slowly come back to you. Looking up, you get a glimpse of the steep drop you had fallen from, and the realization of your fall sends a wave of shock through you. It's a miracle that you are alive.

Your heart sinks as you climb back up to the top, finding the once-vibrant Eagle Clan now reduced to ashes and empty land. Smoke still rises from some of the structures, a bitter reminder of the destruction that has taken place. The silence is heavy, a stark contrast to the usual noise and activity that filled the settlement before.

You call out for Noa, desperation and hope in your voice, but your calls are met with only silence. No reply comes, no signs of life or movement. The settlement remains eerily quiet, devoid of any presence. The absence of Noa and the other members of the clan, as well as the missing eagles, leaves a heavy sense of emptiness and uncertainty in the air.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you search the area with increasing desperation, your heart heavy with worry and grief. Every step you take, every direction you turn, seems to bring only more emptiness and despair. The hopelessness of the situation weighs heavily on your heart, but you continue to search, refusing to give up until you find some sign of Noa or the rest of the clan.

The realization of your solitude sinks in, settling heavily in your chest like a cold, hard stone. You are alone, the once-boisterous commotion and laughter of the clan silenced. The only sound is the wind rustling through the trees, and the only company you have is your fear and uncertainty.

Sitting amidst the ruins, you give in to the grief and sadness that overwhelm you. Your tears fall freely, mingling with the ash and debris of the once-mighty Eagle Clan. The pain is raw and heavy in your chest, as you mourn the loss of Noa and the clan that was your home. The world seems to have turned cold and cruel, and the future feels uncertain and bleak.

Despite the overwhelming despair and loss, you found a spark of resilience within. One day, the realization came to you that there was a life growing inside you. A flicker of hope ignited in your heart, and determination filled your being. You knew that you couldn't let your circumstances break you completely. You were carrying a precious new life, a symbol of hope and a chance to rebuild.

As your hand drifted to your stomach, you made a silent vow. If you couldn't have Noa by your side, you would do everything in your power to raise his child. You would honor his traditions, keep his memory alive, and give your child the strength and wisdom he would have passed on.

With each passing day, a cave became your sanctuary. You diligently worked to make it a haven, carving out a space for yourself within the stone walls. The cold of the winter months added an extra layer of difficulty to your solitary existence. Sustaining your own life was a constant challenge, especially while dealing with the physical and emotional demands of pregnancy.

Despite the hardship, you channeled your determination and resilience. You foraged for food, carefully avoiding the attention of predators and other dangers in the wilderness. As your belly grew, you felt a sense of purpose in looking after the life growing inside of you, a purpose that kept you going despite the odds.

The pains of labor came upon you like a storm, and you were painfully aware of the fact that you were alone. The thought of dying during childbirth filled you with terror and dread. There was no one to help you, no one to offer comfort or guidance. The loneliness of the moment weighs heavily on your soul, as you brace yourself for the struggle ahead.

Despite the terror and uncertainty, your body demonstrated a strength you never knew it had. Like the opening of a dam, your birth canal opened, and with a final push, you gave birth to your son. The pain and exertion washed over you like a wave, but the moment your son was born, a flood of relief and joy surged through your being.

With each passing day, your son grew stronger and more vibrant, and the role of motherhood became your entire world. Every moment was spent caring for, nurturing, and bonding with your child. The solitary life you had built for yourself slowly faded into the background as motherhood consumed your existence.

A full year had passed since your son's birth, and time had flown by in a blur of love and dedication. You could see the resemblance to Noa in your son, but there were also distinct human-like traits that undoubtedly came from you. As you watched him grow and develop, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions - pride, love, and a bittersweet sense of longing for Noa.

"Not too far!" you call out as your son swings from tree to tree in an elaborate game of monkey business. As you tend to the laundry, you can't help but keep a watchful eye on him, making sure he doesn't venture too far or put himself in danger. The combination of pride in his agility and worry for his well-being fills your heart in equal measure.

Despite your best efforts to keep him nearby, your son's natural curiosity and adventurous spirit led him to stray a bit too far. In his eagerness to explore the world around him, he unintentionally wandered further away from you than you would have liked, without even realizing the distance he had covered.

Your heart races in a panic when you realize your son is out of sight, vanished into the foliage. Without a moment's hesitation, you drop what you're doing and start running in the direction he had gone, calling out his name urgently. The fear and worry in your voice are palpable.

You huff and shake your head, a mix of worry and frustration on your face. "You can't ever listen," you chide gently, knowing that you should have been watching him better. Despite the sternness in your tone, you understand that his curious nature is simply part of who he is.

Your son drops from the trees, his small voice calling out timidly, "Mother." He looks around, searching for your familiar face, his expression a mix of curiosity and a hint of guilt for straying too far. As soon as he realizes the gravity of his actions, a flash of fear flickers across his face. He knows he's done something he shouldn't have, and the realization fills him with guilt and worry. He stands there, staring at you with wide eyes, waiting for your reaction.

"Mother!" he calls out again, his voice trembling with worry and fear. But his call is met only with the sounds of nature, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional bird chirp. The silence is deafening, and the realization that you are not within earshot sinks in.

Three young teenage apes amble across the path and come to a halt as they spot the lost child. Their faces contort into expressions of confusion and surprise at the sight of him. They have never encountered a being quite like him before. The child is a strange hybrid, a mix of ape and human traits, which piques the curiosity of the teenagers.

The female ape crouches down to his level, her voice dripping with kindness and concern. "Are you... lost, little one?" She speaks slowly and softly, trying to communicate with him in a way that he might understand. The other two male apes hang back, observing the interaction with mild interest and confusion.

Despite the kindness in the female ape's voice, the child is still frightened and unfamiliar with the presence of others. He nods timidly, confirming that he is indeed lost. In response to her question, he points to himself and repeats, "Lost." The child looks around anxiously, searching for his mother, the only companion he has ever known.

The female ape glances at her companions, a silent agreement passing between them. "We have to help him," she declares, her voice firm and gentle. Extending a hand towards the child, she smiles reassuringly. "Our leader will help you, little one." The other apes nod in agreement, their initial confusion giving way to a sense of responsibility and protectiveness.

The three young apes carefully lift the child, supporting him as they make their way toward the newly constructed village of the Clan. They walk quietly, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings for any potential threats. The fact that the settlement is hidden from view indicates that the Clan has learned the hard way to stay out of sight.

The three young apes enter the Eagle tower and find Noa working diligently on nests, preparing for the coming season of the eagles. Noa's presence radiates strength and leadership, and it's clear that his attention is focused on the task at hand. There seems to be an air of expectation and excitement in the air, as the transition to adulthood and bonding ceremonies approach for the young apes in the Clan.

Since your loss, Noa has dedicated himself to his duties, single-mindedly focusing on the tasks at hand. Koro, the former leader, would surely be proud of the way Noa had stepped up and taken charge. However, Dar, the wise and maternal figure within the Clan, was worried. Noa's dedication to the work was impressive, but it came at the expense of his well-being, and she knew that he was stretching himself thin.

Noa looks up from his work as he hears the young ape address him as "Master." His face is marked by a flicker of recognition, and he sets down the materials he is working on, giving the young ape his full attention.

Noa moves towards the young ape, his demeanor calm and composed. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but his expression remains neutral, showing no hint of emotion. "Yes?" He questions, his voice steady and even.

The ape's tone is uncertain as he relays the news to Noa. "We found a young… child?" Noa's eyes widen slightly at the unexpected information, and his expression becomes guarded. "A child?" He repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, his attention fully focused on the young ape. Noa's voice takes on a more direct tone as he clarifies, "A human child?" The thought seems to spark a mixture of surprise and curiosity within him. He glances at the young apes, silently questioning the validity of their claim.

The young ape's response is uncertain, adding to Noa's growing curiosity and confusion. "No... we… don't know." Noa's brows furrow as he tries to make sense of the information. "What do you mean, you don't know?" His voice betrays a hint of skepticism.

The young ape steps aside to reveal the young child, and Noa's eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the sight before him. The child was unmistakably a mix of human and ape, challenging the notions of what Noa believed to be possible. The revelation stirs a mix of curiosity and disbelief within him, and he approaches the child, studying him intently.

Looking at the child, Noa felt a pang in his heart. The possibility of what could have been with you and him weighed heavily on his mind. The mixture of human and ape features in the child served as a reminder of the connection he had lost and the potential that had been stolen away.

Without wasting a moment, Noa approaches the child and asks softly, "Where is your clan, young one?" His tone is gentle, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity and wonder. Noa's eyes never leave the child, studying his features and trying to piece together the circumstances that led him to be alone in the wilderness.

The child's voice is soft and hesitant, but the words “mother” and “lost” are clear. A pang of empathy and concern washes over Noa as he absorbs the child's reply. He understands the depths of loss all too well.

Noa lets out a soft sigh and lowers himself to the child's height, maintaining eye contact with him. With a gentle yet firm tone, he asks, "Do you know what direction your mother is?" Noa's gaze holds a mixture of compassion and a hint of hope that the child might have some clue as to his mother's location.

The young ape chimes in, adding to the conversation. "We found him near the river," he mentions. Noa turns his attention to the young ape, his mind processing the new information. The river could be a valuable clue, a starting point to search for the child's mother.

Noa's mind is set on finding the child's mother, and his hand instinctively reaches out, gently grasping the child, feeling a powerful connection to him. With determination etched on his face, Noa declares, "Let us find her." His decision is unwavering, driven by a protective Instinct that has been ignited within him.

Noa mounts a horse and rides off into the forest, the young child securely held in his arms. The forest path stretches before them, and Noa's heart races with a mixture of hope and determination. He scans the surroundings, his eyes searching for any signs of the child's mother.

Noa gently sets the child down from the horse, and the child dashes forward, scaling up the terrain towards a nearby cave. "Mother!" The child's voice echoes through the area, calling out fervently. Noa watches intently, his heart racing as he wonders if the child's mother might be inside the cave.

As if on cue, Noa found himself ambushed, tackled powerfully to the ground. His world spins for a moment as he struggles to right himself, only to find a spear pointed directly at his face. Noa's heart races, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he assesses the situation.

Suddenly, Noa's eyes widen as he gazes up at his assailant, a mix of disbelief and recognition filling his mind. His voice barely above a whisper, he utters your name, the sound of it bringing back a flood of memories.

As you toss the spear aside, your voice trembles as you call out, "Noa!" Your heart skips a beat as you lay eyes on him, your thoughts racing. You had believed him to be dead, and now here he was before you, very much alive. Relief washes over you, overpowering the shock of the unexpected reunion.

Your son's voice echoes through the air, "Mother!" as he rushes into your embrace. You gather him in your arms, holding him tightly against you, the mixture of emotions coursing through you. Seeing Noa alive has made your heart both race and yearn for explanations.

Noa observes the heartfelt reunion between you and your son, his eyes widening as the truth becomes evident before him. Noa's mind races as he absorbs the implications. You had a child... he hadn't seen you pregnant. His emotions tangle within him.

His eyes flickered between you and the child in your arms, a myriad of emotions passing over his face. Finally, he found his voice and posed the question that weighed heavily on his mind. "Is he... mine?" Noa's voice was a mix of confusion, hope, and a hint of possessiveness.

You meet his gaze and nod, the love in your eyes telling more than words ever could. Your voice quivers as you speak. "I thought I lost you," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. The weight of your words hangs in the air, conveying the depth of the loss you had felt. The reunion with him has brought a sense of wholeness, filling your heart with an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.

Noa couldn't believe his eyes. You were alive and well, and the child in your arms was his. Overwhelmed with emotion, he wrapped his arms around you and the child, pulling you both into an embrace. The feeling of your body against his filled him with a sense of profound relief and love.

With a gentle squeeze, Noa breaks the embrace and gazes into your eyes, his voice filled with a mix of determination and tenderness. "Come... we are going home." The words held a promise of protection and a longing to return to a place where they could be together, as a family.

[randoimago]

Hi, I really enjoyed your post about the Korean reader. Can you write Duwang gang with russian s/o? I would like at least someone to write something similar with my national colouring, if you are not comfortable with it then don't worry about it and ignore the request.

Anyway thank you and good luck◉⁠‿⁠◉

Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Character(s): Josuke, Okuyasu, Koichi, Rohan

Note(s): I shall do my best! I also don't know much about Russian culture, but hopefully Google doesn't steer me wrong

Josuke

History and Geography aren't really his strong suits in school (he's not awful, it's just boring). So he likes hearing you talk about your home if you want. Josuke likes to compare stories.

Since he's not on the best of terms with Rohan, he tries to slowly learn Russian to talk to you in it. And he's also happy to help you with any Japanese that you might be struggling with too.

Josuke does wonder how you're doing adjusting to Japan. Sure, he knows Russia isn't a winter wonderland like stereotypes say, but Japan can get humid as all hell in the summer and really hopes you aren't dying of the temperature. He'll do his best to come up with ways to keep you cool.

Koichi

This sweet boy is asking if you're alright, Japan is a long way from home. If you're homesick then perhaps he can find some restaurant that has food similar to what Russia has. Maybe Tonio could whip up something since he's a talented chef!

Koichi is also fascinated to hear about your home too. He knows of some historical things when it comes to Russia due to his history class. And he definitely tried to learn more when he started dating you.

Being "friends" with Rohan has it's perks as Koichi is going to try to learn Russian so he can talk to you in that language. He wouldn't mind if you'd prefer to help teach him, but he likes the idea of being able to communicate with you in your native language fluently.

Okuyasu

Firstly, he asks where Russia is. He's not exactly the smartest tool in the shed. Of course he knows what Russia is (albeit more of the stereotypes with it), but he has no idea where it'd be on a map besides being some frozen wasteland (again, stereotypes).

He likes hearing about your home though. Listening to you talk about it and the things you did growing up is very interesting. Comparing childhood songs or games is something that he does often (he likes reminiscing about happier times with his family).

If you tell Okuyasu about the employed cats that Russia has then he's amazed. He's heard mythologies surrounding cats and he does own Stray Cat now and wonders if he'd be able to employ her somehow…

Rohan

Well, first thing he's doing when he learns you're Russian is asking what you know about the Baba Yaga. It just seems like some folklore that would be fantastic to reference and put into some manga series.

Rohan is pretty well traveled so he's been to Russia a couple times. He enjoys talking to you about your homeland and how it differs from Japan.

He most likely does use the stories you have of Russia for help with his manga. He'd use his stand, but he actually likes you so he's fine with listening to you talk about your childhood and things that you grew up with in Russia while he takes notes.

Taglist: @abellaheart-blog @joestarfoundation

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Do you think that seeing a successful world dominating Jack in Time After Time affected how Omi sees Jack? Has it made him more wary of being around/befriending Jack, having seen how ruthless he has the potential to become, or will Omi double down in the hopes that turning Jack good will prevent that? Or whatever take you have on it, of course.

Those deaths were extremely graphic, more than anything Omi had ever seen.

Omi watched Clay be cook and eviscerated by lasers, watched Kimiko be ripped apart by blade-like appendages, and watched Raimundo be crushed underfoot. All on Jack's orders. It filled him with enough hopelessness and guilt for this whole turn of events that Omi was prepared to just stand there and die himself, too.

Initially, I think Omi was just trying to suppress this as a future that, as long as he succeeded in his mission with Chase, everything would be fixed and everyone would be good and safe and happy, he could essentially compartmentalize the bad future as a bad dream. (And he definitely has nightmares of it often.) It was too visceral for him to think about too directly without just flaring up his urge to let himself die again.

But I think, after the mission is over and they're back in their timeline, and Omi comes to terms with everything he really just witnessed and experienced, Dojo and Chase's words help Omi turn that pain into the sort of resolve you mention.

"The future can always be changed."

Just as all this has made Omi more determined than ever to carve out a future for himself and Chase to be together through any means necessary, Omi will also take that philosophy and want to carve out a future where Jack doesn't grow into that.

He's wanted to be something of a mentor for Jack for a while, but after he gets back from that future, I think Omi will take that self-appointed role even more seriously.

After all, Omi also saw a timeline where Jack lives with the monks and sacrificed himself to let them get away and fix things. The world is a complex place, and sometimes destiny is out of one's own control. After all this, Omi's more than determined to see if he can be the one to place destiny in his hands, then.

He certainly wouldn't give up on wanting to reach Jack or on believing in the goodness in him, just like he didn't give up on wanting to be with Chase after watching what Chase made of the world in Finding Omi.

The nightmares of that dark future Jack will persist, but Omi's actually pretty good at suppressing what he wants to suppress.

[chevelleneech]

While I do not mind BuckTommy, I wish their shippers and anyone more partial to them than Buddie, would stop lying about what their relationship is.

Tommy does not prioritize Buck, he simply revolves around Buck. It is the whole reason why them having zero development this season was so stupid, because it left way too much room for fans to make their own decisions on what the relationship is or isn’t, and claim it as canon. It’s why people are already saying they’ll be mad of BT break up, because Tommy is Buck’s healthiest partner, when he’s not.

Tommy is not a character who has a storyline, let alone one who makes decisions that impact the overall story. Everything he does is a result of what the writers need Buck to feel or where they need Buck to be, and that does not make him a healthy partner. They just haven’t written any conflict for them, good or bad.

Thus far, their biggest issue was Buck stumbling through his first date with a man, where Tommy did in fact mock his nervousness then leave him standing in the curb alone. Now, I’m not hung up on that, because I can see why it happened. Buck was extremely nervous and being awkward and likely made Tommy feel bad a little bit, but at the same time, it was wrong of him and he didn’t apologize. And since snippy remarks is all we really know of Tommy, it does become canon that he isn’t actually that nice to Buck. No matter what Bobby said, because as I said before, I strongly disagree with the writers writing in their own cop-out as an excuse for failing to develop Tommy or BT during the season. So yes, Tommy is attracted to Buck and doesn’t treat him like shit, but none of Buck’s exes ever did either. Pretending otherwise is y’all trying to rewrite the show to uplift your ship.

All that to say, Buck and Tommy dating is canon, yes, but them choosing each other or making sacrifices for their relationship, is not. We have been shown quite literally nothing. Everything BT shippers claim for BT, does not actually exist in canon. Not a single bit about love, lust, infatuation, commitment, relationship goals. Nothing, and I wish more “on the fence” fans pointed that out instead of piggy backing as if it’s true. Y’all are hopeful, and that’s fine, I am too. I want Buck to be happy, but I also don't want to give Tim and co praise for doing less than bare minimum.

Buck coming out overshadowed the entire season this year in terms of press and social engagement, but the amount of story and screen time he got in comparison is abysmal. By lying about canon, y’all are giving credit where it is not due. I mean honestly, if someone were to put together a compilation of out!Buck, it would not amount to anything. More so, they’d have to pad it with Buddie scenes, which speaks for itself even if they never go canon.

Anyway, my point is, stop lying about canon, and stop hyping Tim, the writers, and ABC up for what is currently a pretty poorly written storyline. Be happy we got bi!Buck, but also want more for his queer relationship. Especially when his relationships with women came with various small scenes to build their foundation, and him talking to his loved ones about how much he liked them.