#and now she’s left to watch the entire world move on without her. she’s still just standing in place

[bluebirdinhissky]

A best friend’s duty is to love you.

Hyunjin x reader

Bird note: Here it is!!! Expect something else soon. Hope you like it.

[Masterlist]

She was leaving.

He stood in the doorway, heart pounding as he watched her pack her suitcase. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Just smooth, deliberate movements, as if she had rehearsed this moment a thousand times before. He tried to speak, to ask why, to beg her to stay, but his voice wouldn’t come out. His throat burned, his chest ached, and the air around him felt heavy, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t escape.

She didn’t look at him. Not once. And then she was gone. Hyunjin ran after her, but his legs wouldn’t move fast enough, the world stretching and shifting. She disappeared into the crowded streets of Seoul, the waves of her hair vanishing into the blur of strangers, and no matter how loud he screamed her name she didn’t turn back.

She wasn’t coming back.

She was gone.

The grief hit him like a tidal wave, crushing, inescapable. His breath caught in his throat, his chest heaved, and he was drowning, falling into the abyss of his own fear…

Then…

A gentle touch on his shoulder, fingers brushing against his damp skin.

“Hyunjin?” Her voice was soft, filled with sleep, but laced with concern.

He jolted awake with a sharp inhale, his entire body shuddering. His room dimly lit by morning light filtering through the curtains, but his vision was blurred, the nightmare still clinging to him like a shadow he couldn’t shake off.

She was here.

Not gone. Not leaving.

Without thinking, he reached for her, his hands desperate, searching, needing to feel her, to confirm that she was actually there. His fingers found her arm first, then her waist, pulling her into him with a force that was desperate. His face buried against her shoulder, body trembling.

“You’re here,” he whispered, voice hoarse, filled with emotion.

“Of course, I’m here,” she murmured, still sleepy but now fully awake from his distress. Her hands instinctively moved to him, running through his hair, down his back, comforting. “Hyunjin, what’s wrong?”

But he couldn’t answer.

His throat was tight, clogged with the weight of unshed tears. He clung to her like she was his lifeline, his entire body shaking as if he had just been pulled out of an icy ocean. He didn’t want to cry, but the fear was still lodged deep in his chest, raw and real, and he couldn’t stop the way his breath hitched or the way his shoulders shook against her. A choked sound escaped him, barely audible, but she felt it. Her hands, her warmth, her presence, it grounded him, but it wasn’t enough.

“I… I thought you left,” he finally forced out, voice breaking. “I saw you leave. You weren’t coming back. You…” His breath stuttered, a quiet sob escaping before he could stop it. “You were gone, and I couldn’t…”

She held him tighter. “Hyunjin, I’m not gone. I’m here. It was a dream.”

But to him, it hadn’t been just a dream. It had been a glimpse into his worst fear, the possibility of losing her.

“I…” His voice cracked again as he tightened his hold on her, pressing himself closer as if he could melt into her and never be apart. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

She exhaled softly, her fingers running through his hair again, soothing the way she always did when she knew he needed comfort. “I’m not leaving”

“But you could.” His voice was almost childlike in its vulnerability, muffled against her skin. “One day, you could decide that here isn’t home, that I…” He couldn’t even finish the thought.

“Hyunjin.”

Her tone was firmer now, pulling him from the spiral of his thoughts. She shifted slightly, enough to tilt his chin up so he had to look at her. Even in the dim light, he could see the softness in her gaze, the sincerity in her expression.

“I’m not leaving,” she repeated, slow and certain. “Never.”

His lower lip trembled. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Something inside him cracked at that, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spilled over, streaking silently down his cheeks. He let himself be vulnerable, let himself break in her arms, because she was the only person he could be this way with without shame.

She didn’t rush him. Didn’t tell him to stop crying. She just held him, letting him soak in the reality that she was still there, that she wasn’t going anywhere. His breathing was still uneven when he spoke again, voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t some grand confession. It just slipped out, raw and unfiltered, straight from the depths of his heart.

He felt her tense slightly in his arms, her breath catching, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t let go. His hands curled into the fabric of her shirt, afraid for even a second that she might slip through his fingers, that saying it out loud might make her realize she didn’t feel the same.

But then, her arms tightened around him. Her lips pressed softly against his hair.

And she whispered back, “I love you too.”

Hyunjin let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. The fear was still there, the remnants of the nightmare still lingering, but it no longer consumed him. Because she was here. Because she loved him too, and for the first time since waking up, he let himself believe in that promise.

With her fingers back in his hair, and the sound of her beating heart he drifted to sleep again.

*A couple of hours later*

Hyunjin woke up to warmth. For a moment, he didn’t move, his face buried against soft fabric, the scent of her still lingering on his skin. His body felt heavy, the remnants of sleep still pulling at him, but there was something else that gave him the will to fully wake. She was still here.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake her. His arms were still loosely wrapped around her, their legs tangled under the sheets, and as his eyes fluttered open, he saw her face, peaceful, soft, slightly lit up by morning light seeping through the curtains.

His heart clenched. Early morning hadn’t been a dream. The nightmare, the tears, the way he had held onto her like she was his last lifeline, it had all been real. Too real. And then he remembered…

The confession.

His breath hitched.

“I love you.”

He had said it. Not in a fleeting, friendly way. Not in the way he had told her before, when their friendship had been built on laughter and comfort and shameless playful flirting. No, he had said it with everything. With the weight of sleepless nights and stolen glances, with the ache of wanting her in ways he couldn’t explain.

And then…

“I love you too.”

His heart pounded just remembering it. But now, uncertainty crept in. They had said those words to each other countless times before. I love you, bestie. I love you, loser. Love you, see you later.

Was it different last night? Or had his heart made it into something more than it was?. He swallowed, his fingers twitching where they rested against the curve of her waist. She had held him tighter. She had kissed his hair. She had whispered those words back.

But did she mean them the way he did?

Hyunjin let out a slow, shaky breath, his gaze tracing the relaxed features of her sleeping face. He wanted to believe it. Needed to believe it. Because the truth was he wasn’t willing to just continuing to pretend his love was just love for his best friend.

He was in love with her.

He had been for longer than he wanted to admit. And even when he admitted it to himself, he always tried to ignore it. But it soon became more difficult to stand it. Maybe from the first time he caught himself staring at her for no reason, or when he started craving her presence like a necessity rather than a choice.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

He had to tell her.

He couldn’t pretend anymore, couldn’t push it aside, couldn’t act like I love you meant the same thing it did before. It was different now. It had to be.

A soft sigh pulled him from his thoughts. She was waking up. He watched as her brows furrowed slightly, her lips parting with a quiet breath before her eyes slowly blinked open. She looked drowsy, her lashes fluttering as she adjusted to the light, and when her gaze found his, she smiled, sleepy, warm, effortless.

“Morning,” she murmured, her voice still filled with sleep.

Hyunjin’s heart nearly stopped.

How is she so effortlessly beautiful?

His throat tightened, but he forced himself to respond, his voice softer than usual. “Morning.”

She stretched slightly, her body shifting against his, and that was when she seemed to realize how close they still were. Instead of pulling away, she simply relaxed again, letting herself sink back into the warmth of their shared space. Hyunjin exhaled through his nose, trying to fight back the nervous energy creeping up his spine. Now. Just say it now.

But instead, his fingers hesitantly brushed over her wrist, tracing slow, mindless patterns.

“…Did you sleep okay?”

She hummed, nodding slightly. “Yeah. You?”

He hesitated, then nodded too. “Better than I thought I would.”

She must’ve remembered then, because her gaze softened, and her fingers found his, pressing against his hand in silent reassurance. “You scared me earlier,” she admitted quietly.

Hyunjin swallowed. “I scared myself.”

A pause. Then…

“I meant it.”

She blinked. “…Huh?”

He inhaled deeply, summoning every ounce of courage in his body. His fingers curled around hers, gripping her hand as if that alone would keep him steady.

“When I said I love you,” he clarified, voice trembling slightly. “I meant it. Not the way we used to say it before.” He forced himself to meet her eyes, even as his pulse thundered in his ears. “I meant it in the only way I’ve ever really meant it.”

She stared at him, silent. Hyunjin’s heart was pounding.

“I… I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was when I realized that just being near you makes everything feel lighter. Or maybe it was when I started thinking about you at night and wondering if you were thinking about me too. Or maybe it was when I realized I need you here with me in my room because this is where you belong.” His breath shuddered. “I love you,” he whispered again, this time with no hesitation, no fear. “Not like a best friend. Not like someone I can live without. I love you like you’re the most beautiful thing in my life, and the idea of losing you terrifies me.”

She still hadn’t spoken.

Hyunjin felt his stomach twist. “I…” His voice faltered, suddenly afraid. “I just needed you to know.”

Silence stretched between them, the air thick with unspoken words. And then her fingers tightened around his.

“You really are dramatic,” she murmured, a teasing glint in her still sleepy gaze.

Hyunjin’s lips parted, heat creeping up his neck, panic stirring in his chest, but before he could even think of a response, she pulled him closer, pressed her forehead against his and whispered “I love you too, Hyunjin.”

His entire body froze.

Her fingers lifted to trace his jaw, slow, careful, grounding him as she spoke again, softer this time more certain.

“I’m in love with you too.”

A shaky exhale escaped him, relief crashing over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in warmth and something deeper, something real.

Hyunjin didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

Instead, he closed the distance, wrapping his arms around her and burying himself in the safety of her embrace. She let him, holding him just as tightly, as if neither of them would ever let go.

And for the first time in a long time, Hyunjin felt whole. She had said it back. Not in the way they used to say it, not in the casual, friendly way that had once defined them. No, this time, it had been different. It had been real, soaked in meaning, in truth, in love love.

Hyunjin was still processing it, still wrapping his head around the fact that he wasn’t dreaming, that it had actually happened. But with every inhale, with every soft sound she made beside him, reality settled deeper in his chest.

And then came the fear.

Not fear that she didn’t mean it, he knew she did. But fear of what came next. Because he wanted more. He wanted everything. He wanted to be hers in every possible way, to hear her say his name not just as her best friend, but as her boyfriend. He wanted to hold her hand and know she was his, to kiss her when he couldn’t hold back anymore, to whisper in her ear that she belonged with him.

But he couldn’t, at least not like normal people. He couldn’t take her out on dates without looking over his shoulder for people taking photos. He couldn’t tell the world that she was his. He couldn’t post cheesy couple pictures, or buy matching phone cases (well, maybe this he could do), or even hold her hand in public without it being a risk.

It was unfair.

And yet…

Hyunjin looked at her, eyes tracing the delicate lines of her face. His heart clenched. I don’t care. I want her anyway.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered, voice still husky.

Hyunjin’s throat tightened. God, he was so in love with her.

He didn’t speak right away. He was afraid his voice might crack again, afraid that the emotions swelling inside him might spill out in an incoherent mess. So instead, he reached out to her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch. And just like that, it was over for him.

Hyunjin inhaled sharply. “Can I ask you something?”

She blinked, still heavy with sleep. “Of course.”

He hesitated. His fingers, still lingering on her face, slid down, brushing against the curve of her jaw before pulling back. He swallowed.

“I… I want you to be mine.” Her eyes widened slightly, breath hitching. Hyunjin pressed on, voice low, urgent. “Not just as my best friend. Not just as someone I love in a way that’s safe.” He exhaled, fingers gripping the sheets. “I want you to be my girl. I want to call you my girlfriend, I want to be the only one you look at like that. I want to wake up next to you like this and know that it means something.”

A beat of silence. Then, softer, more vulnerable “But I know it’s selfish.”

Her brows knit together. “Selfish?”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw. “You know what I am. I can’t date publicly. I can’t give you the things other guys can. No public dates, no soft launches on Instagram, no walking around Seoul without hiding.” His hands curled into fists. “I know that’s unfair to you. I know you deserve someone who can…”

“Stop.”

His breath caught.

She was looking at him now, eyes steady, unwavering. “I don’t care about that, Hyunjin.”

His lips parted slightly, his chest tightening. “You… don’t?”

She shook her head, shifting closer. “Of course I want to do those things with you. But I also know what your life is like. I know what I’d be getting into.” Her hand reached for his, fingers brushing his wrist. “But none of that matters if I have you.”

Hyunjin felt something inside him snap, like the last bit of restraint he had was finally crumbling. His fingers moved instinctively, intertwining with hers. “Then say yes,” he whispered.

She inhaled sharply, her thumb tracing over his knuckles.

And then…

“Yes.”

His heart nearly burst.

Hyunjin let out a shaky breath, his forehead falling against hers, their fingers still locked together. “You’re mine,” he murmured, the words almost reverent, almost unbelieving.

“I’m yours,” she whispered back.

But just as relief started to flood through him, she hesitated, and something flickered across her face, something uncertain. Hyunjin immediately noticed. He pulled back slightly, searching her expression. “What is it?”

She hesitated. “I just…” She bit her lip, glancing away. “Are you sure you want me?”

His chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

She sighed, voice quieter now. “I mean… I’m older than you. I’m not some insanely gorgeous idol or model. You could be with anyone, Hyunjin. You could have someone that…”

“Don’t,” he cut in, voice firm.

She looked up, startled.

Hyunjin shook his head, jaw tightening. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” His fingers found her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “There is no one else,” he murmured. “There has never been anyone else.” Her lips parted slightly, her eyes searching his. “I don’t care about age,” he continued. “I don’t care about whatever stupid beauty standards you think you don’t meet.” His thumb brushed against her cheek, gaze burning. “I want you. No one else could ever make me feel the way you do. So don’t ever think you’re not enough for me.” He exhaled shakily. “Because you are the only person I’ve ever wanted this much.”

A moment of silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, she smiled soft, radiant, breathtaking.

Hyunjin’s stomach flipped.

She squeezed his hand. “Okay.”

A slow, relieved breath left his lips, and he closed his eyes for a moment, letting it sink in.

She was his.

His girlfriend. His love. His everything.

[nothazellevesque]

there is something so extremely tragic about Thalia Grace. She was a child looking after her baby brother. just a nine year old little girl with a two year old boy clutching onto her sleeve while she tried desperately to protect him from their cruel world and their mother. She looks away from that little blonde boy for just one moment, and then he’s gone forever. Dead. She runs away from home. She meets another blonde boy. An older one. His eyes aren’t quite as blue as Jason’s, but he still reminds her of what her brother might’ve been if he’d only gotten the chance to grow old. they find another child in need of protection. A little girl with blonde curls like her mother’s. And this time is going to be different. This time Thalia won’t fail. This child will be safe. They will all be safe.

She is twelve years old when she dies alone on a hill to protect annabeth and luke. the closest thing that she had left to a family. I wonder if she thought of Jason as she lay there. I wonder if she saw her friends make it to safety as she fell. I wonder if she thought of home, wherever that was. A picnic in the forest with Jason? A safe house with Annabeth and Luke and Grover? An empty mansion in Pasadena? it doesn’t matter. because her body becomes a monument. In death, she can finally be the protector that she’d always tried to be. She’s a symbol of safety now, not a lost, scared little girl who was condemned to a life of hardship because of who her father was.

Except it’s not the end. Thalia comes back. Everything’s different now. The little girl that she once raised is now older than Thalia ever got the chance to be. Luke is gone. Thalia closed her eyes for the final time as a twelve year old girl and woke up a fifteen year old, suddenly the star of a prophecy that she’d never gotten the chance to learn about. To the campers, she’s still the tree on the hill, still that symbol of safety and hope. To Luke and his army, she’s a symbol of the failures of the gods. There is no space for Thalia Grace the person. She is now the figurehead of a war that she never wanted to fight, the mascot for a side that she’d never agreed to join, and the closest people in the world to her are total strangers now. and through it all, the clock keeps moving forward. She’s running out of time. There are at most four months between when she comes back and when the prophecy is scheduled to kick in. She has no time to breathe, no time to adjust, she’s just thrown back into the fight.

And then she chooses immortality. She’d never wanted to be the prophecy child. She’d never wanted any of this. All she’d wanted was to protect. All she’d wanted was safety. She’d lost everything. Jason was dead. Annabeth had grown up without her. Luke was someone that she didn’t recognize anymore. So she chooses to remove herself from the story. She is an eternal protector now, only one day from sixteen for the rest of her days. She watches from the sidelines as her friends grow up and move on without her. At least this time, she can be conscious through it.

Luke dies. She doesn’t get to say goodbye. She doesn’t get to see those blue eyes close for the last time. Another blonde haired blue eyed boy has been ripped away from her. Annabeth is sixteen now. She’s found love, friends, a place to belong. And Thalia is no longer a part of it. So she moves on and focuses on her duties as a huntress.

Jason is alive. Her first failure was all part of some greater plan. She’d never failed him at all. He was safe. He was her age now, but he was safe. He didn’t remember her, really, but that was okay, because he was alive and they had time to fix things. Except they don’t. Because he dies. She’d barely gotten him back before she loses him for good. The boy that she’d once held on her hip, the baby who drove her away from her mother, towards Luke and Annabeth and becoming more of a figurehead than a person, he’s gone. Neither of her blond boys got the chance to grow old. And Thalia is right back where she started: a tree on a hill, standing forever still while the world moves on around her.

[maidragoste]

Hiiii!!!! I (18) was wondering if you could write a Jace x his mothers handmaiden reader, where they have a secret relationship 🤙🏼🤙🏼❤️❤️

anon, sorry for taking so long to write your request. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading 🥰💖💖

btw it wasn't clarified so I didn't write reader as a low-born handmaiden (that is, the ones who clean the urinals and that) but as a high-born one.

likes, comments and REBLOGS are always greatly appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as you tried to break free from Jacaerys's grip only for the prince to press your body even closer to his so you couldn't get out of bed. You turned to demand that your lover let you go but you remained silent, watching Jace's face. Even though he had his eyes closed you were sure by the lazy smile on his face that he was awake. He looked beautiful. He always looked beautiful but these moments only belonged to you. You wanted to wake up every day next to him but you couldn't. Your duty was to Princess Rhaenyra, you cannot allow yourself to be distracted. Besides, if she found out that you were having a secret relationship with her beloved son, she would throw you out and your family would be very disappointed in you for having wasted the opportunity that the princess gave you to choose you as one of her handmaidens. Not only that but your reputation would be ruined, if rumors spread that you no longer possess your virtue then it would be impossible for you to get a husband. You are a fool to continue with this romance, someday Jace will marry a girl from an even more important house than yours and you will have to sit silently watching everything. There is no happy ending to this.

“My prince, I have to go,” you said, hoping he would stop playing dumb and let you go.

“No,” he complained, lengthening the “o.” Your place is at my side” he moved his face closer to kiss you but you moved, he tried again but you avoided him again “What's wrong” he asked, letting you go so he could sit properly on the bed.

"It's late, I should go. At any moment your mother will wake up, I have duties to do” you responded without looking at him as you got up. You didn't even have a chance to look for your shoes when he tugged on your arm making you return to the bed. He turns you around so that you both face each other.

“What is wrong?” asked again the prince. “Talk to me, please, my lady,” he asked, looking at you with concern while gently taking your face in his hands.

“I think we should stop seeing each other, my prince.” The uncertainty in your voice was clear but still, your words were a dagger for Jacaerys.

“Why?” Your heart ached as you heard the confusion and anguish in his voice. “. I don't understand, yesterday we were fine”

“Yes, we were. But we won't always be. Someday you will have to get married and you will leave me. “I think the easiest thing for my heart is for us to finish our thing now,” you said, closing your eyes without being able to see the sadness in his eyes anymore. If you continued seeing him you were afraid you would go back on your decision.

Your heart skipped a beat when you stopped feeling Jacaerys's hands. You froze as you listened to him get out of bed and get dressed. You should take the opportunity to leave, it's probably what he wanted but you couldn't move. You really had finished everything.

You opened your eyes as you felt the prince's hands in your hair. Your heart raced as he carefully untangled the knots. Once he finished, he kissed your shoulder. “Finish getting ready so we can go talk to my mother.”

“We?” you repeated.

"Yes. I have no intention of marrying anyone but you,” Jacaerys said calmly as if his words wouldn't change your entire world.

“Jacaerys, marrying me is an idiotic move, my house is not that important, and the lords” your chatter was interrupted by the prince's lips capturing yours. You should be firmer and move away, but you can't, so you surrender to enjoying the taste of your lover's lips, feeling more loved than ever.

"I love you and if my mother wants me to be her heir, she will have to accept it," Jace declared and there was no room for argument in his voice. “You are the only wife I intend to take,” he promised before kissing you again.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog   @natashaobo @watercolorskyy  @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @yn-jackson

hotd masterlist

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part8

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: slut shaming(?)

previous - next

Could you really call yourself an adult now?

I mean, honestly, is there some magical age that makes you a certified grown-up?

If it’s all about age, then nope—you weren’t an adult. Maybe a “young adult” at best, but even then, the life you were living? Let’s just say it was… a bit different.

When everything started happening so quickly, keeping up felt impossible. And let’s face it, that was normal. If you managed to juggle everything with calm composure, you’d probably qualify as Wonder Woman. Life came with its ups and downs, but throw pregnancy symptoms into the mix, and things got extra tricky.

You liked to share what you wanted with others. Talking about your plans openly was just how you were. It wasn’t about bragging; you just enjoyed sharing your happiness. But every single time—without fail—whatever you talked about? It never happened.

That Venice trip you’d been set on for the summer? Canceled.

The dream university? Rejected. That car you were this close to buying? Nope, didn’t happen.

It was like clockwork. Every time.

And the thing was, you never learned. Not really. You’d repeat the same mistake again and again. Life’s law, right? Someday you’d figure it out… though that day clearly wasn’t anytime soon.

Pregnancy, though, wasn’t exactly something you could go shouting about to everyone. That was off the table. But moving?

If you weren’t pregnant, there’s no way you’d have kept quiet. You’d have made sure the entire island knew. And naturally, that would’ve meant it wouldn’t happen.

This time, though, you zipped it. The only person who knew was JJ—and, well, he didn’t really count. Or, okay, maybe he did. Of course, he was important, but not the kind of person to stand in your way. On the contrary, he had your back. He even offered to help you with the whole moving process.

Things happened so fast, you could hardly believe it.

Your dad came home from his work trip, you visited the mainland, met with a realtor friend of his, checked out potential homes—it was like someone had hit the fast-forward button.

You couldn’t decide on anything. You were even okay with a cute little apartment. The list of occupants was simple: you and your daughter. You didn’t need much more.

Your mom, however, had her opinions. She didn’t want a mansion either, but she was firm about the house having enough rooms. One for you, one for your daughter, and a guest room—because naturally, grandma duties. And a yard, because she wanted to watch her grandchild play outside.

So apartments were out. Houses it was. After seeing what felt like a million empty ones, you were ready to scream.

But finally, you found it. The perfect house. The yard alone sold it. You could already picture the memories you’d make there with your daughter. Maybe a swing or a hammock… some comfy furniture on the porch.

You never imagined you’d get so close to your dream so quickly.

It had the three rooms your mom insisted on, was two stories, and honestly, it was beautiful. You loved it. But the idea of living there alone was terrifying.

Still, the deal was sealed.

It didn’t take long—two weeks, tops. When your mom insisted on hiring an interior designer, you didn’t argue much. Secretly, you liked the idea. And once your belongings were packed, it was all done.

All that was left was you.

There weren’t many people to say goodbye to on the island, which was, honestly, fine. Who were you supposed to bid farewell to? Rafe? His family, who didn’t even know you were pregnant? Your friends, who’d probably broadcast the news to the world? No thanks.

Except for JJ.

You’d have been a total ass not to acknowledge his help. Even if his support wasn’t entirely physical, his presence had been a huge emotional lift.

So saying goodbye wasn’t hard.

Ignoring the support he’d given you would’ve been dumb. When you decided to give him a nice surfboard as a thank-you gift, you didn’t overthink it. You just thought about who JJ was—someone who loved the ocean and surfing. Beyond that? You didn’t know much. So you kept it simple. Spoiler alert: he liked it.

You hesitated, thinking a gift might make things unnecessarily sentimental, but he deserved it. Nobody else in his position would’ve treated you as kindly. Even Kooks barely treated each other well. Expecting a Pogue to go out of their way for you? Yeah, no.

But JJ had.

You weren’t super close, but during one of your conversations, he’d mentioned how much he liked the rare nights when his shift ended early. He worked at a pub. In your head, you’d given him two weeks before he got fired—or kicked out after starting a fight. You were that sure of it.

A week ago, knowing the end of his evening shift, you parked near the pub, sitting on your car hood to wait for him. The plan? Give him the surfboard. Maybe even give him a ride home if he needed one.

Fifteen minutes passed. He hadn’t come out.

You started questioning everything—maybe you’d gotten the wrong day? Or maybe you’d messed up the time?

Waiting around for nothing felt miserable. You should’ve paid better attention when he’d been talking about his schedule.

Not that the gift had been planned or anything. The idea had hit you on a whim. You just wanted to do something before you left. After all, there weren’t many people to say goodbye to. And texting JJ a quick see ya felt way too impersonal.

“What are you doing here?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes shooting up from your phone. JJ stood a few steps away, mid-turn before he stopped and faced you fully. His eyes scanned the car before landing on you.

Quickly, you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Making sure you didn’t pick another fight.” Sliding off the hood, you smirked.

JJ rolled his eyes, flashing you a sarcastic smile. “Ha-ha. How funny.”

Unlike him, your grin was genuine. Why should he have all the fun pissing people off? It was your turn.

Unlike him, your lips curled into a genuine smile. Was it always going to be him getting under your skin for his own amusement? No, this time, it was your turn.

You heard him say your name, his tone serious. “No, really. What are you doing here?”

Keeping surprises wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you couldn’t resist messing with him a little. After all, this was the first time in days you’d left the house—and only in your baggiest clothes. Might as well enjoy it.

“Just hanging out.”

He frowned, his eyes scanning the area before gesturing around. “Here? Outside the pub?”

The confusion on his face was nearly comical—borderline annoyed, maybe?

You mirrored his glance at the surroundings, raising your eyebrows. It wasn’t much to look at. Just… a place. “What’s wrong with here?”

JJ let out a frustrated sigh, and for a moment, you couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to annoy him. He genuinely looked upset. “Are you serious right now? You—” He stopped himself, clenching his jaw as he stepped closer. Lowering his voice, he added, “You can’t drink. You’re not even supposed to be hanging around.”

So, he thought you’d come here to drink? That’s why he was so worked up?

It was kind of… cute. But poking the bear was way more fun.

You let out a dramatic hum as you crossed your arms. “Not allowed? Says who?” You tried not to laugh at the look he shot you, a mix of exasperation and disbelief, like you’d lost your mind.

“Me. You’re not drinking. Not here, not anywhere. Have you lost it?”

Your lips pulled into a grin, and despite his attempt to scold you, his irritation only made it funnier. Especially since you hadn’t even done what he was accusing you of.

The second JJ caught onto what you were doing, his annoyed expression melted away. As your laughter echoed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah. Hilarious. Now, can you just tell me what you’re actually doing here?”

You clutched your stomach, your laughter dying down into a lingering smile. Sure, he wasn’t amused, but you were, and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ve got something for you.”

JJ’s eyebrows shot up. He straightened, intrigued. “Yeah?”

You stepped away from the car’s front, glancing back to see him still rooted in place. You gave him a quick head nod to follow. With a sigh, he finally moved. “If this is a gun for self-defense, just so you know, I’m not really clear on the rules here,” he joked with a wink.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Please. If I gave you a gun, you’d be arrested in, like, two seconds.”

He laughed, but you could tell he was curious now. Opening the back door, you reached inside. “It’s a thank-you gift. Kind of.”The surprise on his face was priceless. He clearly wasn’t expecting this. Honestly, neither were you until the idea struck.

JJ tilted his head, his expression skeptical. “Thank you? For what? For telling you not to pick fights?”

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t be serious. “No, JJ. For helping me out.”

He smiled, but it was that classic, goofy grin of his. Any trace of his earlier irritation had completely vanished. He didn’t even glance into the car. “Oh, I get it. Like a ‘without JJ, my life would’ve fallen apart’ kind of thank you? Go on, feed my ego. I live for this.”

For a split second, you considered slamming the door and driving off. Instead, you laughed. Sure, there was some truth to what he said, but no way were you letting him win.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door wider and stepped back. “Nope. It’s just a small gesture. Don’t read too much into it.”

JJ walked over and held the door open, his eyes going wide when he spotted the surfboard wedged into the backseat. His fingers ran over the smooth edges and the blue-and-white design. “You got this for me?” he asked, his voice softer now as he inspected it.

You couldn’t suppress your grin. “Yeah. I mean, I know it’s kind of random, but I figured you could use your own board for a change. For everything you’ve done—” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “It meant a lot.”

JJ’s smile was different this time. It wasn’t cocky or teasing. It was genuine. “If I don’t take this, I feel like you’d be really annoying about it,” he muttered, pulling the board from the car.

“Absolutely. You wouldn’t want to hear me talk about how I poured my heart into its design,” you teased.

He froze, eyes narrowing. “Wait—you designed it?”

You smirked, holding his gaze. “No. But it’s nice that you believed it for a second.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head as he leaned the board against the car. For once, he wasn’t mocking or making jokes. Instead, he looked at you with something softer, something you couldn’t quite place. “This is… perfect. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. I just wanted to.”

He hesitated, glancing at the board before meeting your eyes again. “I was just trying to help. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? That’s how it felt. Deep down, you’d even envied the way he was with his friends. He didn’t know you. In fact, he hated your group. But if he treated you like this—who knew how he treated his friends?

You weren’t used to people doing things for you without expecting something in return. Sure, you had a hunch JJ liked money. Not just you—everyone on the island knew that. But still, the way he talked to you, made time for you… it mattered. It broke the prejudice you had against him.

It wasn’t anything grand. He didn’t buy you houses or cars. He didn’t shower you with jewelry. But he talked to you like no one else did. He made you feel—like you were someone. Like someone whose decisions shouldn’t be dictated by anyone else’s words.

And that? That was worth more than jewelry. More than anything money could buy. It was something most people—Rafe included—didn’t have.

From the moment he heard, he didn’t tell anyone. What friend would do that? Ruthie? Sophie? Who?

JJ did.

And he wasn’t even your friend.

That’s why it mattered. He was just being himself, and you needed that.

“It felt like that.” JJ was holding the surfboard, his eyes catching yours. A strange silence fell between you. Neither of you had expected such a gesture—not just surfing, but the support he’d given you.

You hadn’t expected his support; that was his gesture to you. And he hadn’t expected a surfboard from you; that was your gesture to him.

JJ lifted the board to examine it, the usual smirk still on his face. He was clearly trying to ease the tension hanging between you. “So, I have my own board now, huh? I don’t have to give this one back, do I? Because when it comes to stuff like that, you’re pretty stubborn.”

“No, it’s yours,” you said, smiling. You were grateful for his teasing—it cut through the awkwardness. You could’ve stayed silent for hours. “But if I catch you getting into another fight, I’ll beat you with that board.”

JJ laughed, shaking his head. His gaze flicked between the board and you. He was ridiculously excited about the surfboard but trying hard not to show it. “Fair deal. But just so we’re clear, every cool move I pull off with this board? I’m crediting you. ‘Thanks to Princess for this wave,’ that kind of thing. You’re my sponsor now.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny his antics made you laugh. He was fun to be around. You were glad the whole “status” nonsense between you two seemed to be fading. It wasn’t just you—he had his own assumptions about you too. But it felt like you’d both moved past that. “Okay. Sponsorship’s over. Go find your wave.”

JJ carefully propped the board against the wall, his expression softening. “Jokes aside, thanks. I mean it. This means a lot. Just don’t tell anyone I said that—gotta protect my image.” He smiled, dimples showing as he ran a hand through his hair.

You smiled back, nodding quickly. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

As you both grinned, JJ’s eyes flicked from you to the surfboard. Following his gaze, your eyes drifted to his hands, gently tracing the board like it was fragile.

“I’m leaving the island tomorrow.” The words tumbled out, and you saw his hands freeze. His gaze landed on you, but you kept your focus on the board, pretending to admire its design. It really was a beautiful surfboard. “So—I wanted to say thank you.”

His blue eyes pierced through you as if that was even possible. JJ didn’t say anything to make the moment heavier, just nodded. For several seconds, neither of you spoke. Realizing the air had gotten heavier, you shifted your tone to something more casual. “I could drive you home if you want.”

You weren’t the kind of person to offer, but making him carry a surfboard all the way home felt cruel.

JJ opened his mouth to respond, but a car horn blared from down the street. Both of you turned toward the sound. Outside the car, John B and Kiara were leaning against it, with Pope, Cleo, and Sarah visible through the windows. Pope waved at JJ from where he hung halfway out of the window.

When Sarah’s eyes met yours, you instinctively tugged at your shirt. There wasn’t anything visible, but still—you felt uneasy. “Wow,” you said, feigning amusement. “Your entourage is here.”

JJ hesitated, looking momentarily torn. Finally, he sighed, a guilty smile creeping onto his face. His gaze dropped to your hand still fidgeting with your shirt. For a split second, it seemed like he wanted to grab your hand, to stop you.

“Nothing’s showing,” he said, his eyes lingering on your waist. You knew that, but the idea of anyone finding out still terrified you. Especially someone from Rafe’s family. He didn’t want them to know, and neither did you. That’s why you felt the need to be extra cautious around Sarah and Wheezie.

“I know. It’s just—” You stopped, shutting your eyes briefly before opening them again. It was paranoia, but understandable. “Relax. No one knows, I swear.” His hand almost reached out to your arm, but he stopped, remembering his friends were watching from the car.

“Go,” you said, shrugging. You composed yourself. “Looks like you’ve got a ride after all.” You smiled.

JJ paused for a beat, then flashed a crooked smile. He hated the awkwardness lingering between you. “If this board isn’t as good as you said, you’re getting an earful. I’ll call you.” He walked backward, teasing. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words.

As you walked toward your front door, you noticed his movements slow. He stopped, turned, and looked back at you. It was like he’d remembered something he’d forgotten to do. Placing the surfboard down gently, his eyes briefly darted away from yours.

Then he walked up to you and stopped right in front of you. After a brief, silent pause, you felt his arms wrap around you. Was he… hugging you? Seriously? The gesture caught both of you off guard. You’d never imagined this kind of closeness. But then again, you hadn’t imagined buying him a surfboard either. So, it didn’t feel wrong. If buying him a gift made you feel this close, then it wasn’t strange that he’d feel close enough to hug you.

You returned the gesture, wrapping your arms around him. His grip was firm, and the scent of salt and ocean filled your senses. How did he always smell so much like the sea?

The hug was short, but both of you felt the strangeness of it. Once again—you felt like you’d crossed a line. Broken some unspoken rule.

JJ shrugged as he pulled back. “Yeah, that’s it. See you, uh… whatever.”

You took a deep breath, watching him stand there. You hated goodbyes. You were going to miss this island, and now—

“Yeah… goodbye.” You pushed your hair behind your shoulders, trying to steady your voice. You didn’t understand why you felt like you were losing a friend. Like you were going to… miss him?

Stop. Don’t even think about it.

JJ nodded, picking up the surfboard as he walked toward the car. You watched him for a moment before turning to the front door and stepping into your car. Through the windshield, you caught a glimpse of Kiara muttering something to Sarah. Whatever she was saying, you couldn’t hear.

When JJ got into the car, he paused, lowering his head for a brief moment before looking outside again.

He mouthed something to the group. Not to you, but to the friends in the car. “Just shut up.”

When he gave you a quick nod, you returned it before starting your car. Watching them drive off, you felt a strange mix of relief and melancholy. You’d thanked JJ, and that was all you wanted. It was done.

Except for the quiet ache of losing a friend.

You’d left only a few clothes back at the house on the island. The furniture and everything else stayed in your room. Your parents insisted the room remain untouched—they wanted you to know there was still a home for you there. They even promised not to change a thing.

The first few months were bound to be hard; you knew that. Living alone was going to take some getting used to. But you hoped it’d all be worth it when you finally held your baby.

Now, you were sitting on the couch in your new place, sipping a green smoothie. You’d have given anything for a coffee, but pregnancy meant sacrifices. A little caffeine might not hurt, but you didn’t want to risk it. The smoothie was healthy, though it tasted awful.

It had only been six days since the move. You’d allowed yourself time to explore the area, taking walks around the quiet streets. Your parents had offered to stay with you for a few days, but you politely declined. You wanted to settle in on your own. Leaning on their warmth and presence only to have it ripped away later would have made the loneliness worse. You couldn’t let that happen.

Morning sickness had eased enough for a few walks, so you’d wandered the calm streets near your house. Quiet, orderly, nothing like Outer Banks. You couldn’t help but compare the two. Everything here was different. The people, the lifestyle—it all felt so structured and tame. But a part of you missed the chaos of the island. The freedom. The absurdity of going to the store in a bikini without anyone batting an eye. That tight-knit community where everyone knew each other’s names.

You’d visited the local park a few times. It was rarely crowded, and you hadn’t met anyone yet. By the time you arrived, most of the adults and kids were just beginning to trickle in.

So, here you were: your own place. Did that make you an adult?

How did adults even make friends? Scratch that—how did anyone past a certain age make friends? As a kid, it was easy. Just ask someone to play with you, and that was it. Middle school? Same thing.

But now? You didn’t know a soul here. What were you supposed to do? Walk up to someone and introduce yourself?

Terrifying thought.

Still, maybe worth trying, right?

-

Socializing wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Your eyes scanned the park’s scenery. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and birds chirped in the branches above. A group of kids played in a sandbox, their laughter mingling with the faint sounds of distant traffic.

You clasped your hands over your stomach, exhaling deeply. “Maybe this is good for me,” you thought.

But the whole idea still felt horrifying. Sitting at home would’ve been worse, though. At least you were out, breathing fresh air.

Introducing yourself to someone, though? Out of the question. No anxiety attacks, but your chest tightened just thinking about it. No, you’d just sit and enjoy the park for a bit. That would be enough.

Your gaze dropped to the book in your lap: Healthy Nutrition and Development During Pregnancy. You fiddled with the corner of its cover. Would someone else find this funny? Carrying a guidebook instead of a novel wasn’t something even you would’ve expected a few months ago. But here you were, on the verge of a whole new chapter. Screw what anyone thought—you were preparing for your future.

Suddenly, the bench shifted slightly as someone sat down beside you. The movement snapped you out of your thoughts. You glanced up to find a middle-aged woman with an energetic demeanor. Her dyed-blond hair revealed a hint of gray at the roots, and a steaming coffee cup rested in her hands.

“Ugh, I hope I can finish this before it goes cold,” she muttered to herself before calling out to the playground. “Tati! No running, sweetheart!”

She waved toward the child before turning back to you with a wide smile.

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” she chirped.

You gave her a polite smile, nodding. “It is,” you replied, subtly shifting your book closer to your lap. Her eyes flicked to the book in your hands, narrowing slightly as if trying to make out the title. “Is that a… guidebook?” she finally asked.

You tilted your head slightly. “Yes,” you said simply, hoping that’d be enough to end the conversation.

“A pregnancy guide?” she pressed, her curiosity accompanied by a cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How sweet! Helping out a sister or expecting a niece?—Oh, where are my manners? I’m Viola.”

Her question caught you off guard. You hesitated briefly before giving your name. “Uh, no. It’s for me,” you said with a small smile.

Her expression shifted instantly. Her eyes widened, her grin turning stiff and awkward. “For you? Oh…”

You nodded, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. She had seemed friendly at first, but the subtle judgment on her face now was impossible to ignore.

“How far along?” she asked, as if the question was perfectly natural.

“Sixteen weeks,” you mumbled, pretending to smooth the book’s pages. The weight of her gaze made your skin crawl.

“Ah, so young,” she murmured, taking a long sip from her coffee. When she lowered the cup, her eyes lingered on you, as though dissecting every detail. “How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Twenty,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral but feeling the words land heavier than you intended. You watched her eyebrows knit together as she took a sharp breath.

“Twenty? You look barely old enough to drive!” she exclaimed, clearly not trying to be subtle. Then, almost conspiratorially, “But… you must be married, right?”

Your hands instinctively moved to rest on your stomach, but you hesitated to respond. The silence must have been answer enough because her eyes flicked from your belly back to your face.

“Oh,” she said knowingly, her smile tightening further. “So… is the father still in the picture?”

What was this, an interrogation?

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. Was it the tone of her voice? Or the audacity of her questions? Whatever it was, it stung. “That’s not something I need to discuss with you,” you said firmly, fighting to keep the frustration out of your voice.

Viola shrugged, but her scrutinizing look didn’t waver. “Fair enough. But raising a baby at your age, and without… well, you know. It’s going to be tough. Don’t you think this was a bit… impulsive?”

Her words hit like a cold wind. You tightened your grip on your stomach and tilted your head slightly. “That’s none of your business,” you said, your voice harder now.

Viola didn’t back down. “Yes, maybe you’re right. But people talk, sweetheart. And usually, they judge the ones they think made the wrong decisions…” She paused, pursing her lips. “Well, they judge.”

That was all you needed to hear. You tucked your book under your arm like you were putting it in a bag, got up, and said, “I think it’s time for me to leave,” your tone colder than even you expected.

Viola raised a hand as if trying to smooth things over. “Oh, I didn’t mean to offend,” she said, but the look in her eyes betrayed the opposite. “I’m just saying this for your own good.”

You could shove your “thoughts” up your ass.

Turning on your heel, you walked toward the park’s exit. The sound of her coffee cup being placed on the bench and her murmuring words echoed behind you. A fresh start sounded nice, you thought. But a new beginning wasn’t a guarantee of escaping old judgments.

There was no way you were going out to socialize again anytime soon. You hated that woman. With every fiber of your being. The way she judged you with that smug little brain of hers—it made your blood boil. You had no memory of how you even made it back home.

You made yourself some hot cocoa, hoping it would calm your nerves. Honestly, lying flat in the grass wouldn’t have been enough to shake off the anger at this point.

Even though you tried to distract yourself—knowing full well that stress wasn’t good for the baby—it wasn’t working. The incident replayed in your mind on a loop. You were certain you’d shiver every time you walked past that park again.

Who did she think she was, anyway? How could someone pass judgment on a stranger like that? The sheer audacity—it was baffling.

The sound of your phone notification pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Glancing over, you reached for the phone resting on the couch.

You waited for a reply, but when nothing came, you set the phone down again. At least one of you was having a good day. Even though you felt like you were on the verge of exploding, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

The sudden ring of your phone startled you. You looked over, eyes narrowing slightly in surprise. JJ Maybank was calling you. Right now.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you grabbed the half-full cocoa mug from the table with your other hand. You weren’t going to drink it anymore. You were too annoyed to even think about washing it, but you figured you could at least move it somewhere out of sight. JJ’s voice came through the speaker, and despite everything, a small smile crept onto your face. For all his antics, he was a decent guy.

Heading toward the kitchen, you heard the cheerfulness in his voice as he began, “Used it this morning.” He was talking about the surfboard, excitement practically dripping from his words.

Frowning slightly, you placed the mug on the counter. This morning? Shouldn’t he have been at work? “This morning? Weren’t you supposed to be at work?”

There was a brief pause before JJ let out a muffled laugh. “Got fired,” he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Honestly, with him, it kind of was. You couldn’t help but laugh a little.

You weren’t surprised—of course, you weren’t. With the phone still pressed to your ear, you wandered over to the window and glanced outside. “Figured,” you said, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

JJ didn’t miss a beat, his tone now teasingly accusatory. “Wait a second. Did you bet on me?”

Smiling, you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, your attention momentarily caught by a cat wandering down the street. JJ cleared his throat, bringing you back. “No, but I wish I had,” you said.

His response came in the form of a dramatic groan. “That’s the meanest thing I’ve heard all week. You’re better than this.”

You turned around and walked toward the kitchen, your tone a little sharper now. “Get used to it.”

JJ responded immediately, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. “Never,” he shot back. Then, after a brief pause, his tone softened, but he added a teasing edge. “Pregnancy hormones have turned you into a completely different person. And it’s only been six days.”

The way he always knew how to push your buttons—and somehow make you smile instead of snap—was maddening. You found yourself tapping the corner of the table with your fingers, a habit you didn’t even notice until it happened. “I take pride in that,” you said, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

JJ came back stronger, more confident this time. “Hey, do you think it’s the hormones, or is it because you haven’t seen my handsome face for six whole days?” There was that familiar cocky tone, but you could tell he was trying to make you laugh. “I’d bet everything it’s because you haven’t seen my handsome face.”

“Even your surfboard?” you teased, your voice lifting just enough to show you were fully invested in the banter now. You moved toward the living room and dropped onto the couch, your gaze briefly flitting to the TV. But your attention was fully locked on JJ.

“Not a chance,” he replied instantly, almost defensive. “The board’s off-limits. Too precious.”

You chuckled, grabbing the nearby blanket and pulling it over your lap. “Then you’ve lost everything except the surfboard,” you said, shaking your head in mock disapproval. JJ’s laugh echoed through the phone, rich and warm, before he quipped, “You’ve been extra rude lately,” his voice carrying a mix of mock hurt and teasing amusement.

You didn’t just roll your eyes—you sank deeper into the couch, grabbing a pillow to prop yourself up. Of course, he’d called just to mess with you. Was he bored? Had he decided you were the best target for entertainment? “I’ve always been like this,” you replied with a shrug he couldn’t see.

“Nope,” JJ shot back instantly, his tone softer but still certain. A brief silence followed, filled only by the sound of your own breathing, before he spoke again. This time, his voice was a little more sincere. “So… how’s it going? Living alone and all?”

You didn’t hate that he asked. Actually, it felt nice to talk to someone. As an adult—or whatever weird in-between phase you were in—socializing wasn’t exactly easy. It hadn’t been easy on the island either, but at least that had been your choice. This wasn’t.

You took a deep breath, realizing the question was harder to answer than you’d expected. “It sucks,” you admitted finally, the honesty not surprising you in the slightest.

“Why?” JJ’s voice was softer now, laced with just enough concern to feel genuine but not suffocating. It was like he always knew how to navigate these moments without overstepping. And honestly, it was strange—good strange.

You tried to sort through the chaos in your head. “I don’t know,” you said with a faint sigh. “I haven’t really connected with anyone. I don’t know anyone here.”

JJ, ever the problem-solver in his own weird way, jumped in with his trademark ease. “Then make friends with the stray cats,” he said, that classic carefree tone of his bringing a smile to your face despite everything.

“I already have you,” you teased back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t possibly betray you.”

His laugh from the other end of the line was contagious. “Not funny.” 

Fidgeting with the edge of the blanket, you hesitated before mumbling, “Are you okay? How are you?” Somehow, over the phone, it felt easier to ask—less intimidating than it would’ve been face-to-face.

“I’m amazing,” JJ said, his voice taking on a flat, almost robotic tone that screamed deflection.

“Your ego is exhausting,” you retorted, matching his sarcasm. Why couldn’t he just answer the question for once? Did everything have to be a game? “Seriously. How are you? After… you know, that day.”

JJ exhaled deeply, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost reluctant. “I don’t live with my dad anymore.”

You sat up straighter, grabbing the remote to lower the TV’s volume. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Packed up my stuff and left.”

It wasn’t exactly shocking. In fact, you were relieved he’d done it. Knowing he’d been living with someone who hurt him was unbearable. But still, you couldn’t stop your brow from furrowing. You couldn’t shake the worry. “Are you staying with John B?”

JJ’s silence was unexpected. You listened to the sound of his breathing, the faintest hitch before he finally answered. “Kind of?”

“What does that mean?” Your voice sharpened with concern. Why was he dancing around the answer when he could just tell you?

JJ sighed again, his tone shifting as though he’d stepped further away from the phone. “They don’t know I left yet. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

He hadn’t told his closest friends? Why? They weren’t the type to judge him. You didn’t know them well, but you were sure of that much. It didn’t make sense.

Even as your worry grew, you knew pressing him wasn’t the right move. “So where are you staying?” you asked cautiously.

JJ’s tone hardened. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.” There it was—his three-year-old tantrum mode. Did he really think people didn’t have the right to worry about him? Idiot.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling your patience wearing thin. “As your friend, I’m allowed to be concerned about your safety, JJ. Just tell me where you’re staying.”

His tone shifted again, this time lighter, more teasing. “Friend, huh? That’s nice. Kook and Pogue forever.”

“Shut it,” you snapped, your irritation clear. All you wanted was to know he was safe. “Just tell me already.”

JJ paused, then let out a soft laugh—the kind you knew was covering up something deeper. Even a toddler could tell. “I stayed with them for a few days. Been figuring it out since.”

You frowned. That wasn’t a solution. “You need to tell them,” you said gently.

He responded with the same stubbornness you’d come to expect, but his tone hinted at a smirk. “This is my problem, princess.” Then, as if to shift the mood, he added, “This is the first time we’ve talked on the phone. Cute, right? Now, tell me about your day.”

Despite the worry gnawing at you, you relaxed just a little. He wouldn’t be joking around like this if things were terrible… right?

You hoped so cause—JJ is your friend.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

Not sure if this is too far but maybe some dads best friend mixed in with close calls and very rough stuff if ya know what I mean 😏

Stained

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Tags:  rough sex, degrading name calling (slut), mentions of a facial, cheating (soz Lucille), alcohol consumption, hair pulling, semi-public sex

It happened again.

By now, Negan knows the routine. Argue. Say shit neither one of them can take back. Lucille kicks him out or else Negan reaches his limit and storms out. Make up later. It’s their pattern.

But tonight is different. 

They were supposed to go to a friend’s house for dinner, which threw a wrench in their usual routine. A part of Negan still wanted to go. Sure, he dreaded the tension-filled conversation, Lucille throwing in her usual passive-aggressive digs, but there was a silver lining: he could vent afterward. He needed to. To someone who’d actually get it, without the sugar-coating.

Negan has been friends with your dad for years, long enough to know they could trade a few sharp words and move on without it turning into some dramatic scene. Sometimes, Negan could really use that kind of blunt, no-nonsense talk with another guy. 

But hell, he wouldn’t mind shooting the shit with you either. You always got his humor and honestly, you were the only one who could make him laugh without trying so damn hard.

Instead of your home, he finds himself at a bar. Lucille was quick to call dibs on going solo to your parents house, not wanting to deal with Negan in front of friends. 

He left without another word, driving to the local watering hole like a man on a mission.

The bar is the usual kind of dimly lit place that doesn't ask questions. Negan doesn’t need questions tonight. What he needs is a drink and a distraction.

He settles onto a chair by the bartop and orders a whiskey, the burn of it going down smoother than he expected.

Lucille’s parting words echo in his head, the sharpness of her dismissal stinging all over again. The way she had shut him down so easily, almost like telling off a child. Negan can feel the frustration creeping back in. He could’ve used a laugh tonight but instead, he’s stuck here. 

Alone, as usual.

On a typical night, Negan hates how quiet the bar is. He can’t stand silences, everything about it gets on his nerves. The patrons are too tight to even cough up a quarter to play a song on the jukebox. It always feels like the kind of place where the air is thick with nothingness and every minute stretches on longer than the last.

Negan doesn’t have the luxury to brood over that on this particular night. Instead, the loud chattering of a group of girls fills the bar, cutting through the silence like a chainsaw.

Just a handful of them crowd around a table, all bright-eyed and wide smiles, laughing as though the weight of the world hasn’t yet found them.

His brow furrows as he watches them out of the corner of his eye. They’re not doing anything wrong but the racket they’re making feels invasive in the normally subdued space. 

Every time they laugh, the sound hits him like a hammer to his skull, ringing in his ears. It’s like a constant, steady hum of disruption. Negan can appreciate a little noise and some new life in the place, but tonight?

Tonight, it’s too much. It’s frustrating him. He takes another swig of his whiskey but it doesn’t quite block out their high-pitched, frantic laughter. 

One of the girls spills a drink, and the others burst into a fresh round of giggles, the kind that seems to echo through the entire room. 

He’s about to look away when another girl quickly picks up the drink and continues to say something. She's sitting across from the others, leaning forward and talking animatedly, her hands flying through the air with each word. 

One of her hands subtly goes to her thigh and she tries to discreetly yank down her dress. 

Negan wonders if women know they don’t need to wear tight mini dresses or the crop tops to get laid. But he supposes that’s the joy of being a  youngster. They do stupid shit, wear stupid shit, drink stupid shit. Some grow out of it while others still say stupid shit and end up drinking alone at a bar.

His eyes flicker over her figure. Negan can’t see her face, the angle of her head and the way her body is half-turned away from him hides it. 

Negan doesn’t mind. He can still appreciate her thighs and the curve of her ass from his seat at the bar. Her hair and back covers most of her upper body too so Negan can’t appreciate any titty action just yet.

His fingers drum against the bar and he catches himself, realizing that he’s staring. He quickly looks away, taking another drink of his whiskey as if the liquid will wash away whatever was just stirred up inside him.

In a way, Negan’s glad you’re not like that. You’re pretty without all the extra shit. Since elementary school, you've never been the type to crave attention or stand out in a crowd. Yet you're not the kind of introvert who keeps completely to yourself either.

You fall somewhere in the middle, comfortable with who you are without needing to put on a show for anyone.

There’s been plenty of times you’ve been the most entertaining thing to Negan at your parent’s dinner parties. He loves the witty remarks you toss his way and how you both quietly poke fun at the evening while the others remain oblivious. Those little moments are the highlight of his night.

But, of course, there are also those other times. When a careless comment from your father or mother hits a nerve and you retreat into yourself, disappearing into the background. Negan can always tell when that happens; the sharpness in your eyes dulls and the sarcastic remarks you usually offer him vanish. 

He wonders if you’ll be disappointed tonight, when it’s only Lucille who arrives for dinner. You make the dinners bearable for him but surely you reciprocate that feeling. Both of you are as thick as thieves in your own subtle way.

The woman he’s been checking out stands, saying one more quick thing to her friends before she turns and heads for the bar.

Maybe it’s because you’re already clouding his thoughts that seeing you in person hits him even harder. He’s imagined you a thousand times, with your quiet demeanor and the casual clothes you wear that make you almost invisible.

The mental image of you is so vivid, it’s like you’ve been etched into his mind… yet here you are, so different than that.

You do the same action that you did earlier, yanking down the end of your dress as it threatens to ride up your thigh. Negan lets out a gulp, not sure how he feels at the fact that he’s been checking out his friend’s daughter.

Turning back to say something to your friends, you let out a laugh as you clog along in your high heels to the bar. 

This is exactly what you needed. A night away from all your worries and stresses… and your parents. 

Besides, you're an adult now. You’re allowed to have fun! Whether that be crazy golf, drinking until you need your stomach pumped or smoking whatever. No matter how much guilt or pressure your parents try to put on you, tonight is yours. You’re no longer bound by their expectations. You can take a break from being the person they want you to be and just be.

Maybe that’s why the words “Lydia found out her boyfriend cheated so everyone was going to go over to hers and cheer her up!” came out of your mouth when you told your parents you couldn’t stay for dinner instead of “We all want to go out and down tequila shots!”.

Whether your actual reasoning would’ve worked or not, it doesn’t matter because they let you out with no more than a remorseful look as you left to help your heartbroken friend.

“Get more salt sachets!” a giddy Lydia calls out as you clip-clop up to the bar. 

You’re so caught up in your own little bubble of excitement that you barely notice the guy at the bar. You wait beside him, leaning on the counter and waiting until the bartender comes over. When you feel his eyes linger, you glance his way, wondering if you’ve found some fun for the night. 

You look over, pre-emptively batting your eyes lashes everything seems to slow down. There, standing just a few inches away, is Negan. Your dad’s friend. 

You freeze for a moment, excuses caught in your throat, as you realize that it’s not just the familiarity of his face that’s throwing you off. It’s the way he's looking at you. Negan’s expression is unreadable but the way his gaze lingers has a weight that catches you off guard.

You try to swallow the sudden lump in your throat. What is he thinking? How long has he been standing there? And why, of all people, did it have to be him?

You hate it. On one hand, you want to ignore him. Maybe give him a nod of acknowledgment before pretending like you’re not in front of someone you’ve known since you were a kid. 

But on the other hand, you know what Negan’s like and the last thing you want is for him to loudly draw attention to your… friendship? 

Ushering yourself closer, you hurriedly whisper “What are you doing here?!”.

Negan struggles to maintain his composure, forcing himself to keep his eyes on your face instead of letting them wander. 

“What am I doing here?” His jaw clenches as if readying himself to barrage you with questions “What are you doing here, dressed like that? Are you drunk? Do your parents know you’re here? I swear….”.

You scoff defensively, glancing down at the glass of whiskey in front of him. “Oh so I can’t go out with friends but you’re allowed to drown your sorrows?”.

Negan doesn’t even entertain your question, immediately waving it off. “That’s not the damn point,” he hisses “I’m not the one with my tits out and stumbling around a bar!”. 

He shoots some other patrons a glare as they try to eavesdrop, making sure they keep their eyes to themselves. You gasp, putting a hand on your chest. Maybe your dress is a lower cut than what you’d usually wear but your boobs aren’t about to pop out of the thing!

“You— you can’t talk to me like that!” despite how your face flushes, you stand your ground. You’ve always known Negan to be raunchy but not once has he ever spoken to you like this before.

"Can't talk to you like what?” Negan doesn’t give you the time to ponder that rhetorical question, crossing his arms as he continues to lecture you.

“You think you look appropriate right now? You think your parents would approve of this outfit?" his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I’m out with friends, not at dinner with my parents!” You defend, deciding to add in your own jab “Besides, I thought you were at theirs tonight, having dinner with Lucille… not drinking alone”.

Negan can’t keep still. He’s too antsy, wanting to shake some sense into you but trying to stay cool in public.

With an elbow propped up on the bar, Negan points a finger at you “Watch it, before I haul your ass outta here”.

This is the closest you’ve ever seen Negan to real anger. Whenever he’s been at your house, it’s always been the aftermath of it you’ve witnessed. His sullen mood and Lucille’s small comments at him whenever the conversation allowed; both of them handling their simmering frustration in their own way. 

To not only witness his anger first hand, but to have it directed at you… you’re not sure if you want to pout or get on your knees right then and there.

You scoff, trying to seem unbothered. “Enjoy your drink, I’m going back to my friends,” you say it with just enough sass, turning to retreat back to your table.

You know it’s a pointless endeavour. 

Negan won’t allow it. And you know it.

His hand snakes around your upper arm, his grip firm but not painful. "Oh no you don't,” he tugs you back, urging you to face him again “we’re leaving. Now”.

You were hoping for a little more time here, a bit more back-and-forth, rile him up before hopefully breaking down those stubborn walls. 

“You can leave, but I’m not!” you snap, digging your heels in.

He leans in close, his anger flaring back to life as his voice drops into a dangerously low growl. “I’m not asking you, sweetheart, I’m telling you” the pet name slips out like a command, making something tighten in your chest. 

“You’re drunk, you’re dressed like a goddamn slut and you’re not staying in this bar another second”.

Is it bad you can feel the heat between your legs as he degrades you? How is it your dad’s friend, someone you kinda considered your own friend too, is calling you a slut so easily? And why does he keep trying to steal quick glances at your chest?

Heh, well, you know the answer to that last question.

Still, you play your part and you slap his arm. “Don’t call me that! Jackass” you say with a defiant huff.

His eyes widen but Negan doesn’t acknowledge the slap in the way you wanted him to. Instead of continuing to bicker, he grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and throws it on, his movements sharp. 

“Jackass?” he repeats, clearly not amused.

“Yes! You’re acting like a major jackass!” you fire back, though there’s a glimmer of amusement in your voice. 

Negan grins, that mocking, almost wicked smile spreading across his face as steers you away from the bar.

“Yeah, and you know what else I am?” he asks “The one dragging your drunk, barely dressed ass out of this bar before you make a complete fool of yourself”.

He starts tugging you toward the exit. “I had like… two drinks!” you protest, stumbling slightly to keep up.

But just as he’s about to drag you out the door, you use all the momentum you have to shove him into the door right next to the exit. 

The ladies toilets. 

Your friends giggle as you both disappear from sight, assuming you’re hooking up with the stranger. They’ve always known you have a thing for older men but little do they know who he really is…

Negan stumbles into the bathroom, his mind still trying to process how he went from the exit to somehow ending up in here instead. His brow furrows as he takes in the situation.

Before he can say a word, you speak, your voice steady but firm “Negan, I’m not leaving”.

He steps closer “Yes. You. Are. We’re leaving. Right. Now”. His hand shoots out to grab your arm, but you’re already one step ahead. You sidestep him, narrowly avoiding his grip.

“No!” you exclaim, more forcefully than you intended. Hoping to get through to him, you soften your tone, offering a sliver of vulnerability. “My parents don’t know I’m here… they think I’m just at a friend’s place” you admit.

Your words hang in the air, a soft confession of rebellion. But Negan’s response is as expected—he rolls his eyes, the action exaggerated as if he’s heard this excuse a thousand times before. 

“I don’t give a fuck if your parents ground you for a year!” He snaps, his voice low but intense “You’re not staying here dressed like that and acting like this”.

“Acting like what? Having fun?”.

His jaw clenches. “By acting like you’re only worth a quick fuck in the backseat of someone’s car,” Negan replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your stomach sink.

The insult stings, but you refuse to back down. With a small scoff, you shake your head and tilt your chin up slightly. “You’re telling me you didn’t do that when you were young?” you challenge.

Negan’s expression falters for a split second, his lips twitching as if he’s about to crack a grin but he maintains his steely expression. 

He exhales sharply through his nose, his stance stiffening. “I did it because I’m a guy,” he mutters, his tone clipped “so it’s different”.

“That’s misogynist,” you point out as you cross your arms, unintentionally making your cleavage more noticeable.

For a moment, you catch Negan’s gaze flickering downward before snapping back up to your eyes, his face strained. 

His lips press together in a tight line, his eyes briefly closing in frustration as he fights to maintain his composure. “Fuck, can you just…” Negan gestures vaguely at you “Cover up or something?”.

Without waiting for an answer, Negan turns away, running a hand through his dark locks. 

You let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t bring a jacket,” you say flatly, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.

He mutters something under his breath, too quiet for you to catch. With a dramatic huff, he whips off his leather jacket. “Of course you didn’t. On top of everything else, you want to get hypothermia too” His voice drips with exasperation.

Negan turns back to you, holding out the jacket, his eyes briefly look to your chest again before quickly darting back to your face, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You catch the slight pause, the way his gaze betrays him, but you choose not to acknowledge it— at least, not directly. You stare him down, not hiding the smirk plastered on your face. Then, in one swift movement, he practically hurls the jacket at you. 

“Here,” he says, the word a little too resigned.

Instinctively, you catch the jacket, but you don’t put it on. Instead, you hold it in your arms, letting it drape over them as you roll your eyes at his comments. 

“I’m not some delicate little flower,” you tease, your smirk becoming playful “maybe I like it rough”.

The words slip out without thinking, a little too flippantly, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks.

Maybe those two drinks were enough to get you tipsy after all.

Negan’s eyes narrow at you and you can see the gears turning in his head. There’s a flicker of something in his expression. Maybe amusement, maybe disbelief, but before he can say anything, you catch the faintest hint of a smirk forming on his lips.

He steps closer, his imposing frame shadowing you as he leans in. “Damn, you’re something else,” he says, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place.

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the overwhelming presence he has, but for the first time tonight, you feel a small shiver run up your spine. 

“Rough, huh?” His words are like a threat, his tone smooth and dangerous.

Before you can respond, his hand shoots out, and suddenly, he has a firm grip on your hair, tugging it just enough to pull your head back. 

“Ow! Negan!!” You whine, your voice a mix of surprise and irritation. Good job at proving you like it rough.

He loosens his grip, but his fingers stay tangled in your hair, holding you captive in his gaze. He stares down at you, his dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You think I don’t notice how gorgeous you are?” he murmurs, his voice low, almost possessive “But this? Telling me you like it rough? Tsk, tsk, tsk”. 

Your heart skips a beat at the admission, and your eyes widen ever so slightly. The words settle in your chest, warm and electric, and for a split second, everything else fades away. 

Negan thinks you’re gorgeous. 

You can barely process it but you don’t get a chance to let the moment settle. His fingers tighten in your hair again, this time with purpose. 

“There’s a difference,” he growls, his voice rougher now, “between making eyes at some random guy at a bar and teasing a man who actually knows what to do with you”.

You swallow hard. His grip on you, the way he towers over you, his scent— all of it feels like a pressure you can’t escape. You can barely breathe.

“And you…” You pause, testing the waters “You know what to do with me?”.

And then, possibly the most un-hot thing happens. A toilet flushes. The sound is loud and sudden, causing you both to freeze. It comes from one of the stalls at the end of the room and it’s quickly followed by the drunken shuffling of feet and a zipping noise. 

Without a word, you and Negan lock eyes, an unspoken agreement passing between you in that single, charged moment. 

“Shit,” Negan mutters under his breath, his hand still tangled in your hair, but now pulling you toward the nearest empty cubicle with urgency. 

“Ouch!” you whisper, batting at his hand and making him untangle his hand from your hair. You barely have time to shoot him a glare before he’s guiding you into the small space, his body close behind you.

Just as the cubicle at the end of the room unlocks, the lock to your cramped cubicle slots into place with a soft click.

For a moment, you both hold your breath. You’re pressed together in the cramped space, his chest against your back, your bodies flush together.

You hear the drunken patron stumble, mumbling something unintelligible as they turn on one of the taps and start washing their hands. You both hold still, waiting for the heavy footsteps to move away. Negan holds you against him, one hand on your waist to keep you close. 

Although that’s not the only thing that’s touching you. 

It’s hard not to notice the unmistakable press of his semi-erect cock nestling against the curve of your ass. It feels firm yet pliant, a promise of things to come. 

Turning your head just enough to look up at him through your eyelashes. He doesn’t meet your gaze, too busy zoning into some spot in the stall door as he listens intently to the patron outside.

His brow furrows just slightly, the lines on his forehead deepening as he focuses. You can tell he's strategizing, weighing up different excuses in case he’s caught in the ladies room. Negan’s lips are pressed together, a slight tension around them, but it's not a scowl. 

Deciding you want some attention, you press your ass back slightly. You hear a grunt.

“You’re not making this easy on me,” he huffs. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he looks down.

Through the thin walls, you can hear the drunk go on their way, their footsteps slowly fading as they stagger out of the bathroom. The door swings shut with a final, echoing creak. 

As if to prove his point, Negan moves his hips forward, forcing his erection against your ass. He’s harder than you thought and you shudder at the mere size of the thing in his pants. 

He makes a quiet, pleased sound against your ear as his hand trails up your waist, teasing passing the side of your breast before settling on the back of your neck. 

“Fuck, you're responsive…” He pulls back slightly, making sure you can still feel him.

“Is that a good thing?” you ask softly.

He chuckles, his voice low and husky. “It's a dangerous thing, darlin,” he squeezes your neck teasingly “Nothing good ever comes from being too responsive... unless you're trying to drive a man wild”.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I’m trying to do” you push back against him again, this time bending your body slightly to really accentuate your ass.

Except all that does is encourage your dress to ride up your thighs again, stopping just before your ass. Grabbing his leather jacket from your arms, Negan tosses it up on the stall door before moving to your thighs.

Negan isn’t a one to waste time, especially when it comes to taking advantage of certain situations. Bringing both hands down to your thighs, he helps you dress by tugging it up in one swift movement. You let out a gasp as the cool, thankfully air conditioned bathroom making the skin on your ass get goosebumps.

“Negan! I-“ you move to turn away so he can’t see your ass but Negan’s one step ahead this time.

 Looping an arm around your torso, he makes sure you keep the squirming to a minimum. With his other hand, he brings it down between your legs and presses a finger against your panties.

He holds you in place, bent at the hips and ass against his crotch. You can feel the dampness of your panties against your heat. The wetness seeps into the fabric, making it stick to the lips of your pussy. 

“Fuck me, you are soaked!” with no qualms about modesty, Negan swipes the tacky panties to the side and gets a feel of your folds himself. 

You stop a moan from escaping, not wanting to be too eager. "Goddamn, you're a sticky little mess, ain't ya? All wet and sloppy, just fucking dripping” he teases your hole, momentarily pressing a finger to it but never dipping inside.

Hoping to gain some control, you go to stand up straight. The thoughts of looking into his eyes as he fingers you is more appealing than your view being the wall of a bathroom stall.

But Negan isn’t as fond of the idea. The arm looped around you quickly makes its way to your back, forcing you to stay bent. You let out a scoff as the side of your face smushes against the wall. 

“Negan, what the fuck?” You whine, blindly throwing one of your arms back at him “If you’re gonna finger me, at least let me enjoy it!”.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabs your arm and presses it against your back, restraining you before he continues his exploration of your pussy “I get to decide how the fuck we do this”.

You quieten down when you feel a finger trace your folds, spreading your wetness around. “You this much of a slut for every guy or am I just lucky?” He asks, chuckling at his own thoughts “Your friends were cheering like this is a usual thing for you”.

Before you can reply, Negan plunges two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, his thumb grinding against your clit. “I— ah!” You mewl, trying to give a coherent response “N-no, never!”.

Negan picks up his pace, loving how you give in, basically slumping against the wall. “See, doll, I want to believe you. I mean, I don’t know that many sluts that get this fucking wet from just a little grinding… it’s shameful, really” he curls his fingers to hit the perfect spot, making your squirm.

“But in saying that,” Negan continues, his breath hitting against your neck as he leans closer “I don’t know that many modest gals that wear something like this”. 

Deciding you know better than to repeat your mistake and move again, Negan takes his hand off your back and paws at your chest instead. But in true Negan fashion, he needs to up his antics.

Tugging down the low cut neckline of your dress, you hear a ripping noise as he pulls at the fabric and forces it down past your bra.

“Huh… surprised your modest enough to wear a bra” he comments, quickly rectifying the situation. Without warning, Negan roughly shoves the bra cups up, freeing your tits completely. "Fuck, look at these," he growls, appreciating the sight of your breasts spilling out. 

The fingers he has working your hole pause and retreat, much to your disappointment. You take the opportunity to turn around to face him, starting to feeling a crick in your neck from being smushed up by the wall.

“Asshole, you tore my dress“ your voice is laced with frustration, although that may be from how much you want him to stop teasing and fuck you already. 

With an amused scoff, Negan goes to hold up his hands in surrender. His fingers glisten with your juices. “I’m trying to be a gentlemen here, doll” he chuckles as he defends himself.

You fight the urge to cover yourself, knowing that’s what he’s waiting for. He wants to see that shy side, to see you blush and get flustered. 

You glare at him instead “How is this being a gentleman?”.

“Well, I coulda just ripped it clean off, but I left ya some dignity,” Negan smirks, crowding you again. You’re left no choice but to back into the wall, holding your glare as you look up at him.

“And I've fingered ya before fucking ya which is pretty damn noble” he adds, seeing you battle between staying annoyed and wanting to blush. You open your mouth to complain but a loud moan comes out instead as Negan pinches one of your nipples.

He thumbs your hard nipples, chuckling as they perk up even more under his touch. “Damn, always knew you’d have a good pair on ya," he muses “fuckin’ perfect”.

Negan doesn't hesitate, leaning down to engulf one nipple in his mouth. He sucks hard, letting his teeth graze the sensitive bud as he kneads the other breast roughly. Groaning around your nipple, he switches to the other, assaulting it with the same fervent enthusiasm. 

With a grunt, Negan grabs your thighs and hoists you up, pinning you against the wall with his muscular body. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, arms going around his shoulders.

Negan grinds his still clothed cock against your bare pussy, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper. 

The rough denim of his pants provides no comfort, each thrust of his hips pressing his erection directly against your sensitive clit. "You feel that?" He asks against your tit “Want you to beg for it, gotta hear ya saying it”.

You have no hesitation. There is no reluctance to beg for him, not when you’re this close to getting what you thought would always be a wet dream. 

"Please, Negan, I need it!" you beg, your hips bucking against his pants in desperate attempts to get friction. “I’ve wanted you for so long, to fuck me in my bedroom o-or on the dinner table! Fuck, anywhere! I don’t care!”.

That seems to convince him. Reaching down and fumbling with his jeans, Negan has his cock out in record time. He grips the base, stroking it a few times as he lines it up with your soaked pussy. 

The head of his cock presses against your entrance, the tip barely peeking out from between your folds. Negan slowly eases in, allowing you to adjust to his massive size. 

You writhe and moan against him, trying to keep your body relaxed as he enters you. Trying your best to keep eye contact, you let out a string of whimpers as he fills you completely. 

"Damn, I actually fit," he says, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. Negan pulls out carefully, as if testing the waters before plunging back into your needy pussy with vigor.

"Holy fuck, even tighter than I imagined. Built for my dick, aren't you?" he grunts, starting to fuck you hard.

Each brutal thrust of his hips drives his thick cock deeper into your pussy, stretching you wide open. "Fuck, you're so tight it feels like my dick is splitting you in half. Love it. Fucking love it" Negan rambles on and grabs your thighs, spreading them as wide as he can.

"Fuck, Negan... you're so..." you try to speak "ah!”. It’s all too much in the best way possible. That delicious ache of being so thoroughly penetrated, the feeling of absolute fullness with each deep thrust.

"More... fuck me more..." your hips arch up to meet his thrusts, trying to keep up.

Negan angles his hips upwards, hitting that spot inside you over and over as he pounds into you. "Look at me," He growls, "Look at me while I break you in half with my dick. You like that? You like feeling so stuffed?"

“I-I've never been this full before…” you say with teary eyes.

Negan notices your body tensing and shuddering beneath him, your pussy walls starting to flutter wildly around his thick cock. "Holy shit, there it is... Your cunt's squeezin' me like a fuckin' vice. You gonna cum on my dick?".

The pressure is building to an unbearable point, your entire body trembling as your orgasm approaches. Your mind goes blank, unable to answer his question as he hits that perfect spot.

Just as your orgasm hits, Negan feels your pussy clamp down around him like a silken fist. "Holy fuck..." you gasp, back arching as pure pleasure courses through your veins. 

Your entire body quakes, inner muscles milking his cock as you ride out your intense orgasm. You dig your nails into his shoulders, legs trembling uncontrollably.

Negan grunts, fucking you through your intense orgasm with deep, deliberate strokes. He can feel your pussy spasming wildly around his shaft, coating him in your slick arousal. As the last waves shudder through you, he finally pulls out, his cock glistening with in the light.

He lets you stand for a moment but you legs are so wobbly, it’s difficult to support your weight after that intense orgasm.

Before you can even catch your breath, Negan grabs your shoulder roughly and forces you onto your knees. Your body complies in an instant, unable to fight against such force.

Your knees ache as they hit the bathroom floor but that’s the least of your concerns. You look up at him in wide-eyed shock, lips parted as you anticipate him coming all over your face.

"Fuckin' hell, such a pretty face..." He strokes his throbbing cock with his fist, ready to explode.

But instead of aiming for your face, Negan aims his cock at your chest, unleashing a thick, hot load of cum all over your tits. He groans loudly as he paints your breasts with his seed, the warm liquid dripping down between your cleavage and seeping into the fabric of your dress.  

“Next time you’re either swallowing it or you’re getting a facial courtesy of yours truly” he informs you, although the only piece of information you truly savor from that is ‘next time’.

Doing the gentlemanly thing, he grabs some tissue from the toilet paper dispenser and hands it to you. You dab at your chest, knowing the dress is a lost cause and will probably have to be thrown out later. 

“Help me up?” You ask, somewhat shyly once you’re done.

Taking your arm in a much more gentle grip than before, Negan helps you up, subtly looking over your chest to make sure you’ve wiped off all of him. “You feeling alright?” he asks lowly, as if remembering the public place you’re both in. 

You blink, giving yourself a moment to calm, your body still humming with the aftermath. “That was…” you pause, collecting your thoughts, “...wow.”

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he slips his leather jacket off the stall door. “Well, that’s a better response than I expected,” he says with a smirk, draping the jacket around your shoulders and gently guiding your arms into the sleeves. Without a word about how the jacket nearly swallows you whole, he zips it up, pulling it snug to cover your chest. 

This is a completely different side to the Negan you’ve seen tonight. This is the Negan that gives you a small, reassuring smile after your parents throw some off handed insult your way. 

The two of you stand close, your breaths mingling. Slowly, the space between your faces narrows, as if drawn by some unspoken pull. You gently tilt your head, just enough to bring your lips into alignment with his. 

The kiss is a tender brush. Featherlight and hesitant. It’s the kind of kiss you’d expect before going at it like a bunch of animals… not afterwards.

The kiss lingers, still tasting of warmth and something unspoken. Pulling back just enough to rest your forehead against his, you can feel the soft touch of his lips still tingling on yours. You mutter against his lips, almost sheepishly “Can you drop me home?”.

His lips curl into a quiet smile, a slight glint in his eyes as he nods. “Considering I didn’t get to finish my first glass of whiskey, yeah I should be good,” Negan gives you a playful look.

Unable to help yourself, you give him a small smile. It’s not as seductive or teasing as the ones you have given him previously. In all honestly, it feels like Negan has fucked the seductiveness out of you– if that’s even possible.  

“... So this wasn’t some drunken mistake?” you ask coyly. 

Negan wraps an arm around your shoulders as he unlocks the stall door and carefully guides you out. ”Wear a dress like that the next time I’m at your parents for dinner and you’ll find out” he replies with a smirk. 

Besides his tousled hair, Negan still looks fine. He’s not dishevelled or out of breath or having trouble walking… all things you attribute to yourself.

Negan notices your state too, keeping his arm around you as you subtly leave the bathrooms and head for the exit. If it’s even possible, Negan pulls you closer, guiding you out like a drunk that’s had one too many. His presence is possessive in the gentlest of ways.

You give your friends a knowing look as you both leave, one that says you’ll explain everything later.

The sound of drunken chattering and laughter fades as you step out into the night, the streetlights casting a soft glow on the parking lot. 

When you reach the car, he opens the door for you with a small smirk, his eyes never leaving yours as you slide into the seat.  A few moments later, Negan slides into the driver's seat and the engine rumbles to life. 

The car doesn’t even get out of the parking lot before Negan’s hand finds yours. The ride home is quiet. He doesn’t say much, and neither do you, but the silence between you feels relaxed.

Every now and then, his thumb gently brushes across the back of your hand like a quiet reassurance. He doesn’t mention the contact, simply letting it linger. 

 The soft, rhythmic motion of the car becomes like a lullaby and with every mile, the weight of the night lifts just a little more. Every so often, you glance over at him, his face relaxed. When your eyes meet, he offers a smile and you sleepily return it.

Negan doesn’t pull up directly outside your house. Strategically stopping his car a little down the street, he sighs.

“Hate to say it but I’ll need that jacket back,” he gives you a once over, as if to memorize what his leather jacket looks like on you.

Fiddling with the zipper, you mumble “So I’m supposed to walk in there with a ripped up dress?”.

He laughs at that, shaking his head before reaching into the backseat. “Here, I know it’s dirty but it’s the best I can offer,” Negan hands you a sweatshirt. 

The sweatshirt is faded, its fabric softened from years of use. The sleeves are slightly frayed at the cuffs and a few small holes hint at its age. On the front, several dark oil stains mark where hands have wiped off grease, probably from Negan when working on his motorbike. 

But most importantly, it smells like him.

As you take off his jacket and put on the sweatshirt instead, Negan gives you some privacy and looks away. “Are you coming in too?” You ask, gently placing his jacket on his lap once you’ve changed.

Taking that as his signal to look, Negan gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not tonight, darlin,” he replies “think Lucille would chop my nuts off with your mom’s fancy silver if I showed my face”.

“You two are fighting that bad?”.

Negan shrugs “Same old, same old”.

You try not to fidget with the frayed sleeves of his sweatshirt, not wanting to pick at it right in front of him. 

“And… this?” You focus your attention at simply inspecting the sleeves instead of picking at them “I mean, I know you said it wasn’t a drunken mistake but still… I get it if you wanna pretend like it never happened”.

As much as you wanted quick reassurance, you’re met with silence. 

Negan leans back in his seat, taking his eyes away from yours and looking at the street. Up ahead, he can see the porch light on to your parents house. Although, he doubts Lucille will be leaving anytime soon. She’ll probably stay late, try to wait it out until Negan has drank himself silly and fallen asleep.

“Tonight shouldn’t have happened,” he says with little emotion “It ain’t right. I know it. You know it. Hell, anyone in a ten mile radius would call me all sorts of names if they knew about it…  fucking your friend’s daughter is a whole mess”.

You stay quiet, unsure whether you should just get out now.

“But shit, if you wanted to suck my dick right now, I wouldn’t say no,” he chuckles “it’s a fucked up thing to say but I wouldn’t mind something like this happening again”.

That puts a smile back on your face. Getting ready to leave, you say “Maybe if you come to dinner next time, I will suck your dick”.

Negan watches you with narrowed eyes. Of course you’d be able to make his dick twitch again, making him feel like a teenager that could get it up over and over again. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he warns as you get out.

“Good,” you hop out of the car, giving him one last flirtatious smirk before going “I hope you do”.

Closing the door, you strut along the pavement, your heels clicking as you go to your house. Walking has never seemed so hard, not only because of your shoe choice but from the aching in your gut and your legs wobbling more than you’d like to admit. 

Still, you try to do your best to walk straight, knowing Negan is watching. 

When you get to the front door, you give Negan one last glance before disappearing inside. He wait a few moments before starting up his car and leaving. 

The first thing you hear is a chorus of polite laughter from the dining room. Great, looks like they’re still in the midst of dinner. Before you have a chance to debate if you could get upstairs without them hearing, you hear your father call out your name.

“Is that you?” He calls out.

Reluctantly, you walk in, lingering by the doorway. Your parents to turn in their dining chairs to face you. Whereas Lucille has you right in her line of view. She offers you a gracious smile as you enter.

“I thought you were staying at Lydia’s tonight,” you mom says, eyeing your sweatshirt and what appears to be a skirt. Thankfully she doesn’t comment on how short it is.

“Eh, Lydia talked things out with her boyfriend so they’re back together again,” you lie casually “you know how they are; fight, break up and make up”.

Lucille casts her gaze down slightly, as if your words hit a little too close to home for her. You shift uncomfortably. 

“There’s some leftovers in the kitchen if you’re hungry” your mom says, blissfully unaware.

“I’m ok,” you give her a smile “I think I might just shower and head to bed early”.

“Alright,” she already waves you off, turning back in her seat “if you’re sure”.

You don’t linger, giving them a polite nod before leaving. It’s only when you turn to leave does Lucille look at you again. 

She’s never believed in coincidences. And she’s never believed you to be into repairing cars. She knows the faint stains on your sweatshirt, mainly because she’s the one who spent hours trying to scrub them out… only for Negan to reward her with new stains on the damn thing. 

Nodding along with whatever it is your father is saying, Lucille’s mind strays further and further from the dinner and to Negan instead. 

Something’s happened. What exactly, she’s not sure. But you’re involved and so is her damned husband.

—————

A/N: thought I’d put in a quick note just to say thanks for reading and apologies for disappearing all month! My family almost got scammed out of 11k (it was insane) but!! More importantly!! I got seriously bad writers block so apologies if this fic is a little choppy, I’m still getting back into my stride!!

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve been on a Soulmates kick today and just saw a fic where Steve has two marks - one for Robin and one for Eddie. And it’s got me thinking.

Of course, he doesn’t know who his marks are for. He only knows that they’re two people because they look so different. Soulmarks show up where you and your soulmate will have the first skin-skin contact, and they have the words they will say when that happens written in their handwriting.

Steve has one covering his palm, the handwriting is small and sharp, all angles and no rounded edges. That one says “Steve, we need to run”. It seems scared, the wording, but he refuses to think about it. The other mark he has is covering his left hip, curling like someone was holding him from the side. This handwriting is completely different from the other one and is best described as chicken scratch. It’s big and messy, letters flowing into each other like the writer didn’t even pick up their pen between each stroke. That one says “I got you, just lean on me”. It seems less scared but there’s concern laced in the words that helps Steve feel less alone when he’s laying in bed late at night. That’s the only time he ever lets himself think about his soulmates, during the day he avoids it like the plague. His parents are soulmates and they barely speak, so soulmates can’t be all they’re cracked up to be. After Nancy never makes one of his marks tingle and burn he tries to give up on the idea entirely, figuring he can go on without a soulmate and be with Nancy - but then she breaks his heart and those late nights are all he has.

His first soulmark changes when he’s stuck underneath Starcourt mall the summer after he graduated. He had been working with a girl, Robin, who barely tolerated him on a good day and now she’s been sucked into his shitty world. When the alarms go off in the bunker he barely has a second to react before Robin is grabbing his hand and yelling at him, “Steve, we need to run!” His feet start moving and he yells back for her to be careful with his arm, even as he feels the tingling burn cover his palm and in that supply closet, leaning against the door next to Robin they make eye contact. In that short second of connection he knows that she felt it to, that he’s just found his soulmate and despite his fear he’s so happy that it’s her. Later, after they had both puked up their guts and he had confessed to having a crush on her, Robin told him about Mrs. Click’s class and Tammy Thompson and how she’s sorry that he’s stuck with a soulmate who can never love him back. Steve blinks and suddenly his two soulmarks make so much more sense.

“Robin, I have another soulmark. I don’t… I don’t think you were ever a romantic soulmate for me.” He watches the relief and, maybe even, joy cover her face and she launches herself at him in a hug, squeezing him tight and he returns the favor completely ignoring his own pain.

The other soulmate comes over 8 months after meeting Robin. He was so grateful for having her in his life but he still wanted that other piece, he loved Robin and she loved him but he wanted romantic love too. Unfortunately for Steve, just like with Robin, his other soulmark was triggered when he was fearing for his life. He had just been dragged through Watergate and made into a chew toy for a bunch of demobats. Steve was just trying to catch his breath when they all heard the bigger hoard approaching and he knew he had to run. He made it surprisingly far before the pain of each step started to settle in, his feet dragging more and more and his pace slowing when someone moved in beside him, wrapping one arm around his back to settle his hand on his hip. Eddie grabbed the arm closest to him and dragged it over his shoulders, giving Steve a grin. “I got you, you can lean on me.” This only made Steve completely trip; the sudden onset of tingling burning at his side so close to his currently bleeding wounds had his left leg collapsing under his weight.

“Why does this always happen when I’m in danger?” Eddie froze and then a laugh burst forward.

“That makes so much sense with context. C’mon let’s get you somewhere to sit and we can talk more when you’re not bleeding over me.”

When he and Eddie got to Skull Rock, he and Robin made eye contact and he watched her eyes flit down to where Eddie’s hand was on his side. Her eyes grew about three sizes and he just shot her the best grin he could. He didn’t care that he had been bleeding all over his soulmate for the past few minutes - he had gotten blood on Robin when they found out that they were soulmates, so it seemed fitting for him to be doing the same to Eddie.

Years down the road he would look back and laugh at the drama surrounding him finding both of his soulmates. Eddie even joked that the universe gave him two to make up for his shitty parents, and Steve wasn’t going to argue.

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future.

PREVIEW TWO

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

ONE

The tension in your hospital room is palpable, Detective Lois and Dr. Mayhew locking eyes as if each were ready to strike. You’re bewildered, unsure of whom or what to believe. But one thing is clear: Dr. Mayhew is your husband. He appears to be the quickest path to recovering your memory—even though Lois seems convinced he’s the reason you’re in this condition.

“Detective Tryon, as eager as you are to drag a statement out of my wife, she’ll be of no use to your scheme of blaming me for your incompetence,” Dr. Mayhew says, running a hand through his hair with a clear hint of tension. “She remembers nothing, and your persistence will only confuse her further.” He sighs heavily, while Lois watches him with a mocking smile, as if her patience has completely worn thin.

“Your performance is so convincing. You must have taken acting lessons at some point in your life,” she says, stepping toward him with a threatening air. “I can’t allow you to harm this woman before she has the chance to tell the world who you really are.”

“Enough!” you exclaim, frustrated by their bickering. Both turn to you, their expressions shifting to something like concern. “Detective Tryon, I appreciate your efforts to keep me safe. But if this man truly is my husband, that must mean something,” you say, almost on instinct. Perhaps you’re being foolish, even hasty. But there has to be something to this. Taking a risk is all you have left—now that you don’t even belong to yourself.

"Are you really willing to risk your life to be near this man, Y/N?" Detective Tryon holds your arm, her grip nearly desperate, as though trying to pull you away from Dr. Mayhew. The force of it makes you uncomfortable, and you wince, letting out a low sound of pain.

“Release my wife, Detective,” Dr. Mayhew snaps, his tone finally sharpened, his calm composure cracking. “I remind you that if we report your misconduct to your superiors, your entire baseless case will fall apart.” He steps between you and Lois, his hands slipping into his lab coat pockets, the stance a clear challenge.

"What would truly please you, right?" Lois challenges, staring straight into Dr. Mayhew's eyes. You watch them silently, still feeling the ache in your arm where Lois had grabbed you.

"Would you like to know what would actually please me?" Dr. Mayhew whispers, moving closer to Lois. "I’d be pleased to have my wife with me again, without the interference of a lunatic so obsessed with her own failures that she needs to ruin my life just to sleep at night. Careful, Lois. You’re becoming obsessed with me." You're uncertain of his intentions, but the authoritative tone in his voice and the way he carries himself is undeniably alluring.

Lois narrows her eyes, her expression darkening as Dr. Mayhew moves closer, his tone laced with mockery and barely concealed venom. “Is that so, Dr. Mayhew? Obsession, you call it?” she scoffs, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Let’s not confuse dedication to justice with obsession. But perhaps you’re simply too accustomed to manipulating the truth to recognize it when you see it.”

You watch the exchange, torn between skepticism and an undeniable draw toward him. Despite the sharp edge in his words, the way Dr. Mayhew stands his ground, unyielding and unafraid, stirs something within you. Even as his gaze shifts to meet yours, there’s an intensity there that unsettles yet captivates you—a magnetic pull that defies reason.

“Why not focus on your own affairs, Detective,” he murmurs, his eyes still on you, a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, “and let my wife and I… reconnect. Unless, of course, you’ve truly no other purpose in your life than meddling in mine.”

Your confidence is remarkable, Charlie," Lois remarks. "Mrs. Mayhew, if you need me for any reason, here’s my number. I’ll also be visiting again soon to see if there’s been any progress in your memory recovery." She hands you a card with her contact information, then smirks mockingly at Dr. Mayhew. "And don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll let Megan know you’ll be unavailable." With that, she finally exits your hospital room.

Charlie stares at you, irritation burning in his gaze. "Do you believe her?" Dr. Mayhew demands, advancing toward you with sudden intensity. You feel as if the air is being drawn from your lungs with his nearness, his gaze piercing. "Honestly, I don’t know whom to believe," you murmur, leaning back against the hospital bed behind you, your eyes locked onto his.

"Fine!" he exclaims, voice laced with indignation. He turns to leave, but then hesitates, his hand lingering on the door frame as if torn between staying and leaving. After a tense pause, he steps back inside, his tone shifting from anger to something raw and vulnerable.

"Y/N… if you can’t trust me, then at least remember what we once were. Remember the promises we made." His voice drops to a murmur, almost pleading. "I’m not the monster she’s painting me to be." The intensity in his words sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you more conflicted than ever as he finally, reluctantly, exits the room. What makes it all worse is that neither of them is truly thinking about you. Neither one noticed that you’ve only just discovered your own name, that you're lost and confused. They don’t see that you don’t want to be manipulated—you want to be understood.

“You are like him…” you murmur, recognizing that you’re no longer in your hospital room. Everything around you is intensely white—the walls, the bed you're seated on, every corner spotless and untouched. A cross hangs on the wall behind the priest, casting a shadow that flickers slightly, as if from candlelight. The room feels steeped in something sacred, almost otherworldly, like a faint echo of a memory stirring within you. The priest looks at you with a serene expression, though there’s an unmistakable weight behind his gaze. As he steps closer, the almost sacred atmosphere around you amplifies the tension. You try to process the overwhelming resemblance to Dr. Mayhew—even the contours of his face are identical, but the priest’s shorter, more traditional hairstyle highlights the difference. Your mind wavers between doubt and recognition, as if your subconscious is trying to unveil something long forgotten.

“You keep searching for answers outside yourself, yet everything you need lies within,” he murmurs, his deep voice echoing through the room like a quiet revelation.

“Father, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, what to feel,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you meet his gaze. Tears slip down your cheeks, and a quiet, aching desperation fills the space between you. The priest, unmoved yet tender, holds your gaze.

“Faith moves mountains, and as long as it resides within you, you will be safe,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle command that resonates deeply. “Find your faith, and you will know what—and whom—to believe.”

Despite the haziness, a strange comfort wraps around your heart, soft yet unexplainable. His words, laced with a familiar warmth, guide you into a calm acceptance, though the reason remains unknown. Then, leaning closer, he whispers in your ear, “Now, kneel and seek forgiveness.” Almost instinctively, you find yourself on your knees before him, grasping the folds of his robe at his knees, your head bowed as though in reverence.

“Father, forgive me,” you whisper, your head bowed. His fingers lift your chin gently, compelling you to meet his gaze. “How can I grant you absolution, when your hands are stained with blood, my sweet sinner?” he murmurs, lowering his face near yours, his breath warm against your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

You’re shocked, frozen beneath his intense gaze, but unable to break away. As you glance down, horror floods your senses—you see your hands smeared with blood. Stumbling backward, you gasp, eyes wide in disbelief. The priest rises from the bed, stepping slowly toward you with an unwavering gaze, a faint trail of blood marking his face. You’re overwhelmed with fear, a scream building in your throat until it finally erupts, piercing the silence. And then—just like that—you awaken from your haunting dream, heart racing, as the unsettling remnants of the nightmare fade into the dim light of your hospital room.

Dr. Mayhew, startled awake in the chair beside your bed, immediately reaches for you. “Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” he asks, his voice filled with concern as he stands and wraps you in a firm embrace. His arms encircle you with a warmth that feels protective, grounding you in the present moment, as if he’s trying to shield you from whatever haunted you.

“I… I had a nightmare,” you whisper once you catch your breath, the tension beginning to ease as you lean into his hold. And everything feels like déjà vu. Just like before, you wake from a nightmare involving the priest, and once again, Dr. Mayhew is by your side. You can't help but wonder if there’s a connection between his presence and the terrifying, bloody dreams that haunt you each night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Dr. Mayhew murmurs softly, his hand tracing gentle circles on your back, his touch soothing. The warmth of his embrace gives you an unexpected feeling of lightness, as though he’s holding you together amidst the lingering fragments of your nightmare.

“Can we leave this place?” you ask, your voice trembling as you try to stifle the tears that have flowed since you woke. He holds you a little closer, and you feel a subtle tension in his grip, as if considering your question carefully.

“We will, soon,” he assures, his tone steady, though a flicker of something unreadable passes over his face. “For now, rest. I’ll be here.”

"Stay here; I need you to answer me—while looking into my eyes," you insist, tugging at Dr. Mayhew's clothes, almost dislodging his tie. Though he’d intended to return to the hospital chair, he remains by your side, his gaze steady yet guarded.

“Will you even believe my answer?” he asks softly, his voice carrying a hint of doubt, as though unsure anything he says would hold weight with you. His eyes search yours, wary yet attentive, as if weighing what he’s willing to reveal.

"You'll have to take the risk and believe that I will," you say softly, though you're unsure if you can truly trust anything he says. Dr. Mayhew's hand reaches gently to touch your face, but you instinctively pull back, murmuring, "I’m sorry."

“Ask me whatever you wish, Y/N,” he says, his voice tinged with impatience, perhaps confused by your conflicting actions—clinging to him, pulling him closer, yet retreating from his touch. You, too, are struggling to understand what you’re feeling, torn between wanting him near and pushing him away.

“Do you love me?” you ask, your gaze unwavering, trying to find answers in the depths of his eyes. His stare holds yours, as if the question should be irrelevant, as if he has already shown you everything you need to know. His expression softens, but the weight of his response carries something more.

"I’m your husband, Y/N," he replies, his voice steady, but there's an intensity in his eyes, a depth of meaning that you can’t ignore. "Doesn't that answer everything?" His words hang in the air, thick with unspoken emotion, and for a moment, you wonder if the truth lies somewhere in the space between his claims and the confusion that churns in your heart.

"Answer me, Dr. Mayhew, do you love me?" you ask, using a more assertive tone, making it clear that you are not satisfied with his previous answer. He smiles, as if he can't believe it. "I love you, Mrs. Mayhew. I would die for you if necessary," he responds confidently. His eyes are fixed on you, as if waiting for something.

"Then even if the truth disappoints me. Even if you think it's going to hurt me, I need you to be honest. About these murders, about Megan, about everything." You speak firmly, staring into his eyes.

Dr. Mayhew's expression hardens as you mention the two things he surely wishes you would forget. For a moment, he looks at the hospital room wall without saying anything. "Honesty is a double-edged sword. As you inflict it on someone, someone can inflict it on you," his gaze darkens, his demeanor heavy, almost demonic. "If honesty is what you want; honesty is all you'll get."

He stands up, lifting his face to yours, now standing directly in front of you. "You think the truth will set you free, but sometimes it only binds you to something far worse," Dr. Mayhew says, so close to your face it feels as though he's about to kiss you. His words are heavy, yet his gaze is devilishly captivating. For a moment, you sense that he's savoring the expression of fear in your eyes. "Then let the truth bind us both, if that's what we deserve," you reply, challenging him, even though a part of you trembles with fear.

He straightens his coat, his hand running through his hair with a sharp, almost angry gesture, as though attempting to pull himself together. "Rest, Y/N. The truth will find its way to you, sooner or later. But I can promise you this: I am, and will always be, honest with the woman I love—even if she doubts me." With those words, Dr. Mayhew places a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a gesture of tenderness. Then, without another word, he exits your hospital room, leaving you in a heavy silence.

[manwritingtales]

Fuck! Wrong Body!

I can only jump bodies every few years and this fuckin' man had to jump to my eye line! I was ready to jump, to swap bodies with this hot athletic dude I've been watching for several weeks. I've got it all planned out. I'd switch bodies with him, take his money and live the same as I'd usually done; fucking and getting fucked and making sure this body is shown to the world. But goddammit, when I was finally ready to swap, I didn't waste one second and immediately tracked this dude. I took a deep breath and staring intensely at him, concentrating on him and only him. Then an old man passed by. It was instantaneous. I felt my spirit leave this vessel I'd been inhabiting and move to the older man. From behind a pillar, I suddenly found myself standing in the middle of a street, strange sensations coming over me as this body's senses kicked in.

I was stuck shocked for a moment, and behind the pillar a man was lying on the ground slowly waking up. I stared at the body I wanted to switch to. "You need something?" he said. I stare at his handsome face—the face I could've be as for several years.

"I—" my voice was much deeper. I suddenly felt the weight of this body. His blue polo shirt clung to his body. It was obviously a few sizes too small. I stare at my new gut. The realization finally dawned on me. "Fuck!"

People look in my direction, but I'm too upset to notice. "Goddammit! Why the fuck were you here?!" My voice was much deeper and older than my old body. I stare at his arms, then touch his face. Bearded. I touch his belly.

"Ugh," I groan, this weight very unfamiliar to me. I've mostly switched to athletes, those muscular jock types, so this was extremely different to what I'm used to. Soft music played in his ears and I throw the air pods away in frustration.

"Uhh." The athletic dude looked at me like I was crazy and left. I stare with a sigh as I see his body disappearing into the crowd. That could've been my body.

"Honey? What's wrong?" I hear a female voice from behind me say. I turn around. A woman, in her fifties, maybe. She's looking at me with deep concern. "What's wrong, honey? Are you feeling alright?"

I open my mouth, then close it shut. Without a word, I walk away from her quickly. I hear her echoes as I make my way deeper through the streets.

I run in this heavy, slow body. Everything feels jarring. When switching bodies, every element of your being needs time to reassess. The memories in the brain come in fragments, where it usually takes weeks to months to learn it all, but the thing that immediately makes it clear that you're in another body is the sensation. The physicality of it. For muscle jocks, everything is leaner, tighter, and easier. It's easy to bend his body, to jump, hell, it's easy to breathe. But this body is almost the exact opposite. His shirt is constricting his body. I'm still not sure why he decided to wear something a few sizes too small. His beard scratches his face. His belt cling to his body, his gut held. I feel so heavy and tired, or at least not as energetic as my past body used to be.

I take out his phone and open the camera.

I sigh. I suppose this beard is pretty cool. But I'm really not okay with the idea of being stuck in this body for a few years. He and his wife probably got kids, who'd come looking for him. That won't be a problem, but I tried not to switch bodies with men that had too many attachments. I walk through a random street, trying to get used to the way his body moves. No one's paying me any mind. It kind of feels nice, for a change. One time I switched with this dude who modelled, and the entire time I felt everyone's eyes on my body. But no one's paying me any attention now. I'm just another father vacationing with his family.

"Dario." The name comes out of this new body all of a sudden. "My name is Dario," I mutter in his voice. The details feel so hazy, as my new and old memories are still figuring out space. My name is Dario. I have a wife and two kids, one adult and one in college. I dig deep into his mind for more information about this man. Nothing yet but those key details.

I stop in a nearby café to focus, trying to gather out any of his old life. Not that it's gonna be much use, since I already have a plan to do, but it's always important to make sure that the body you're inhabiting won't bring any problems. I try to imagine myself not as me—but as Dario, a husband and a father of two. I make his body smile.

I'm sure anyone who knows Dario well can see something off. That the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. That's naturally how it goes at first. If you plan on keeping this body's life and family, be sure to blend in with all his quirks and subtle movements.

I stare at his hairy arms, patting his belly and stroking the bulge in his trousers. I sigh. I just can't help think of the body I was supposed to switch to. This athletic dude with giant biceps and strong legs. I'd look at his body, and watch myself stroking his muscular chest, and muscular arms, talking dirty as I smelled his musk, then I'd...

I feel this body stiffen. I feel his cock harden and I give it a stroke, involuntarily letting out a moan (which earned several glances from people). Huh. This cock is... not bad at all, actually. It's average in size, but—I move his body in a more comfortable position, making sure to hide below the table—it's... thick as a beer can. "Alright," I mutter, enjoying the warmth of his thick cock permeating from his trousers. There's some silver lining after all.

---

It's been a few months in this body. I'm still not completely sure if I like it. After the day I switched with him, I kept my current plan and cut off communication with this body's old life. I'm sure his family must be devastated, but I'll take good care of this body. He is much hairier than the usual ones I'd switch to, much older, definitely, but he's unexpectedly much more virile than I thought. He could last almost as long as those muscle jock dudes I've switched to.

And the attention! It's even different now. One walk at a bar and I still get a lot of glances, now usually from bears and twinks, (and I was much more into bodybuilders and jock types) but I don't hate it after all. His first time getting fucked was rough, and his ass was sore for a while, but I enjoyed watching this body getting plowed by a hairy bear who insisted on calling me daddy.

Memories of this body's life continue to flood, and it felt bad leaving his tenured professor job without a trace, but I'd say I'm making more use of this body by fucking and getting fucked as much as I can.

[p0orbaby]

Hi , Hope you are doing well

So a little arsenal/barca teen who is very possessive about her food blurb " if you guys keep touching my yoghurt , i will officially declare world war three"

-

You're sitting at a table in the canteen, fiddling with the spoon in your hand, minding your business, when Mapi reaches across the table and dips her finger—her actual finger—into your yoghurt. You watch her do it, completely dumbfounded, your mind spinning, but you say nothing. Not at first, anyway. Just sit there, staring, as if witnessing some small yet world-shifting act of betrayal. The spoon you’re gripping is practically trembling in your hand, though you try to keep your composure. Your yoghurt is sacred. Everyone knows this. Everyone.

“Mate,” you say, deadpan, “if you guys keep touching my yoghurt, I will officially declare World War Three”

Your voice is flat, but it cuts through the room. Conversations stall. Aitana, sitting across from you, chokes on her water, and you see her wipe at her mouth, eyes wide like you’ve just casually threatened to end civilisation, which, to be fair, you kind of have. You didn’t even raise your voice.

Mapi looks at you like she doesn’t entirely get it. Doesn’t understand the unspoken rules of food and boundaries and personal space. But then again, Mapi doesn’t exactly do boundaries, which is why you once had to hide your protein bars under your bed for a week because she kept nicking them, just small, annoying little bites that went missing daily. You had to lie, saying the box ran out when you knew exactly who the culprit was.

“You’re serious?” Mapi says, smirking a little like you’re joking, like there’s no way you could be this protective of something as small as a cup of yoghurt.

You lock eyes with her. Don’t blink. Just take a slow breath and glance at your yoghurt, the spoon now resting carefully on the table like you’re preparing for some calculated strike. “Deadly”

Claudia, who’s been sitting to your left, eating her salad like she’s trying not to exist in this moment, just mutters, “We’re really doing this again?”

And you are doing this again, because this isn’t the first time you’ve had to give the food speech. No, the first time was when Ingrid thought it’d be funny to take one of your hard-boiled eggs without asking, as if eggs grow on trees or something. You had nearly combusted on the spot, but instead just sat there, stone-faced, while she apologised profusely like she'd run over your dog.

The thing is, they don’t get it. They don’t understand what it’s like to grow up in a house where your food always went missing, where you had to protect your snacks like they were state secrets because if you didn’t, someone else would get to them first. Older siblings. Friends. Even the dog, for God’s sake. So now, it’s instinct. A Pavlovian response. Touch my food, lose your hand.

Alexia’s sitting at the end of the table, watching the scene unfold like a slow-moving car crash. She raises an eyebrow at you, calm as ever, but there’s a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She’s seen this before. You before. Knows how this is going to go.

“You know,” Alexia says, tone smooth as silk, “there are other yoghurts in the fridge”

“Yeah," you respond, cutting her off. “And they’re all mine”

Mapi finally gives up with a little laugh, wiping her finger on a napkin, like she’s conceding to your madness. The table erupts in quiet chatter again, but you're still watching them, your yoghurt held in a near-death grip, spoon hovering over it like a defensive weapon.

This is war.

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (12)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

People are taking notice. This is good, just... don't allow suspicion to linger for too long...

Reader is Gender Neutral!

It was the next morning.

After your little ‘Dress to Impress’ situation with Signora, you grabbed lots of blankets and extra mattresses for the Harbingers. Originally, you planned for all of them to sleep in the living room and dining room as it was the biggest and the furthest space away from you. However, all the girls complained about this and managed to persuade you to let them stay in the guest bedroom instead.

So there you were, moving half of the mattresses and blankets into the guest bedroom for them, not a single shred of help given to you. You’re not sure how they’re going to decide who gets the bed, but honestly, you don’t want to imagine the petty chaos that will ensue because of it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to have the girls close to you, after all, you can hear all their arguments through the walls quite clearly…

Anyway,

After that you used the rest of your noodles for yourself and forced the harbingers to eat boiled vegetables. You’re not evil, it’s just the only other thing you could cook without guaranteeing the house would catch on fire. Also, it might have been the only thing left in the freezer.

And off to bed everyone went after dinner. They didn’t say thank you, of course. However silence is better than having to figure out how to piece your sofa back together like a lego house. As of now, you’re downstairs and suffering through an onslaught of Childe’s complaining.

“When’s breakfast?” Childe whined, laying on the sofa with his patched up injuries still healing.

“Never, until you and the others get a job to financially support the house.” You replied, leaning back on the armchair and watching the news. It wasn’t anything interesting unlike yesterday, with the notice of you being missing being the conversation of the day. Today, it was reporting on the increasing average climate temperature. Ah yes, another problem. But luckily, that’s something out of your control right now.

“But it huuuurts! You can’t expect me to walk around the city limping.”

“Yes, but that won’t stop you from using the Internet, will it?”

“I have no idea what that is.”

Maybe this is a good thing. Letting the harbingers go on the Internet without any control or restrictions could possibly not just end you, but also the entire world. At that point, if you let it happen, humanity’s biggest problem wouldn’t be climate change anymore.

“It is decided.” Sandrone gleefully spoke with an excited voice, walking through the front door and entering the living room. “I’m officially working as an engineer in a garage not too far away. Oh, this is simply splendid news!”

“Sandrone, I thought we agreed you weren’t going to work due to you looking too young?” You questioned her with an exasperated sigh, already expecting this outcome.

“We never agreed on such a thing.” She scoffed at your unenthusiastic reply. “The Rooster and I discussed my wishes to learn the field of mechanics of this world. We decided it would be best if I visited the mechanic’s garage we passed by when we were walking to that weird food place we found you in. When I walked inside and inquired about a position, they instantly said yes! Ahh, it seems even in this world humans can detect true talent.”

“Or, get this, they were suffering from this city lacking engineer’s to hire. From the sounds of it, they were desperate to employ just about anyone.” You fired back, voice plain.

“Don’t be so conceited. They specifically asked for my skills. And, after I talked about my puppets and robots, they were instantly intrigued and brought me aboard!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Good for you, or whatever.” You turned back to the television, not giving her anymore attention.

“Well, I believe it is a wonderful thing.” Pulcinella walked into the room, sitting on the sofa with Childe, his back to Childe’s shins.

“At least someone’s got a job. Did anyone else actually try to find one this morning?” You groaned.

“A woman approached me with a business card, something about ‘fitting the vibe’ with a new fashion collection she was working on and offered for me to be a part of it. What did that mean?” Arlecchino spoke up, passing you the business card she mentioned.

Looking closer at it, you could tell it was a relatively new business. One owned by someone just a few years older than you maybe. Honestly, it actually looks really cool. Maybe you’ll check out the website link on the back of the card later.

“She’s asking you to become a model for a fashion branch she’s designing.” You explained, passing the card back.

“Modelling? Hm, looks like I’ll have to find something somewhere else.”

“You don’t want to be a model?” You questioned her.

“I’m used to working in the shadows, I dislike public attention when I work. Becoming a model would be unlike me.” She sighed disappointedly.

“I say you do it, Knave.” Columbina cheered for her. “If you don’t like it, you could always kill her and erase all footage from her Kamera.”

“Please don’t do that.”

“I suppose that could be a possible outcome.” Arlecchino thought to herself, ignoring you.

“Okay, please don’t think about it if that’s what you’re going to do if you don’t like it! Be normal and just quit the job, and read your contracts!” You exclaimed in horror.

“Very well, I’ll contact her later today.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” You turned to her.

“I thought I’d ask you to help me.”

Of course she’d expect that. Children, all the Harbingers are basically children high on drugs in wonderland not knowing what to do or how to do it. Just what would they do without you? It’s no wonder despite kidnapping you they give you a lot of freedom. You’re surprised they haven’t tied you up and left you to rot in your own boredom actually. You often wonder why they haven’t done that, it’s very clear they get more and more annoyed the more time you spend with them.

“Childe, the second you heal I’m kicking you out of the house until you find a job.” You announced, Childe whining as a reply.

“Why are you so harsh with me!? I’m one of the nicest guys here!”

“Because some of the others actually took the initiative to go out and find a job today which I’m pleasantly surprised at. It could have turned out a lot worse, but luckily it didn’t. Therefore, I really don’t care.”

“Decider!! You’re so mean!”

“Why do I hear Childe screaming a lot more than usual this morning?” Pierro yawned, entering the room with hazy and cloudy eyes.

“The Decider wants him to get a job.” Scaramouche bluntly stated, his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. 

“Oh, as if you have room to talk. You didn’t even try to get a job this morning. You didn’t even leave the house to pretend to try!” You argued with him.

“There is no way, in any stage of care I could possibly and deniably have for you, am I working to support people I don’t even like.”

“You’re doing it to support yourself!”

“I don’t even need to eat, silly mortal.” He snickered at your flabbergasted face, struggling to keep up and monopolise him.

“Hmph, if the heartless crude doesn’t wish to work, don’t force him.” Sandrone scoffed in his direction, fiddling with the TV remote in her hands, observing which button does what.

“As I have decided and discovered a place to work, allow me to earn as much money as you need. I can guarantee you, I’ll be much more helpful than this…” She struggled to find the word.

“...thing.”

“Excuse me??” Scaramouche couldn’t believe what he was hearing, his head snapping towards her direction as fast as the speed of light.

“It truly is shameful, to take and not give in return.”

“Like you’re one to talk.” Dottore grinned, entering the room alongside Pantalone and shutting the living room door.

“It doesn’t matter what any of you morons say. I’m not getting a job, meaning stop bothering me with blather I’m ignoring. You’re wasting your own time.” Scaramouche scoffed, turning away dramatically and walking in the direction of the dining room going to do something that you couldn’t even attempt to guess.

“...I’m going to kill him.”

“Don’t try it, you’re thinking of what we’ve wanted to do for years. His usefulness is the only thing keeping him alive now.” Pierro sighed, a hand on his head trying to soothe his incoming headache.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

You were back in your bedroom, trying to communicate with the Traveler on the other side again. Alas, he still wasn’t replying in your favour. His blank look was still displayed on his face. Maybe you should stop for a while and give it time, continuously trying seems to be wearing you out more than the Harbingers themselves. Either that, or you’re getting really angry now. …What are you saying!? Nothing will wear you down more than the presence of the Harbingers, never forget what they did and what they could do to you. Even if they’re acting nicely towards you, it doesn’t change how they treat and have treated others. Never forget it, ever.

Speaking of never forgetting, now that you have the time, you should do something about all this merch.

You walked up to your desk, eyeing the different figures and occasional sticker littering your desk. You made quick work of scratching the stickers off, ripping them to shreds and violently throwing them in your bin. You looked at the Arlecchino and Scaramouche figures standing next to each other on the back shelf of your desk, you grabbed them and stared at them, admiring every detail made by the artist.

Such a shame. It’s funny how just last week you were excited that you could potentially buy all the figures and line them up on your desk. Unfortunately, you’ll never be able to see these characters the same ever again. Especially fucking Scaramouche.

You shook your head after a short while of staring, choosing to shove the figures under your bed instead of smashing them like you wished you could with the real people. You’ll try and resell them later for money to support yourself once this is all over.

Anyway, at least now your desk is clear. You can’t remember the last time you saw it bear with only your computer on it. Next, you should get rid of all the genshin plush toy’s on your bed and above your wardrobe. Starting with the massive Childe whale laid out across your mattress. Ugh, but you actually like this one! Without the genshin context, it would just be a cute whale! Should you just shove this one under your bed too? And what about–

“You’ll never guess what I did!” Childe burst through your door, a very excited expression on his face.

“Childe!? What are you doing?? GET OUT!” You shrieked, standing up and running to cover your computer screen before he could see it.

“Okay, so, you know how you told me to go out and find a job when I got better?” He began explaining, ignoring your complaining with a mocking tilt to his head.

“Yes, but get out! We can talk outside of my room!” You quickly ran forward, pushing him away from the door frame and out of the room with haste.

“You don’t even have anything interesting. Just looked like a basic bedroom to me…” He pouted playfully, his eyes narrowing at the door you slammed behind you after you successfully removed him from your bedroom.

“Right. What were you telling me about you looking for a job?” You sighed, not wanting to discuss your bedroom any further.

“Okay. So, I was out looking for a job, yeah? I was struggling and felt really angry, but then I passed by a building with boxers punching and training! I went in and asked if I could try it, and they immediately asked if I could join their gym after I did! Pretty amazing, right?” He hummed, grinning widely.

“...You have to pay to join a gym.” You countered him, a confused expression.

“That’s what I thought too! But, the manager of the place was coincidentally having a meeting with a man looking to sponsor an upcoming athlete. When he saw me, he offered a sponsorship to me. So now I get paid to train in the gym everyday!”

“That’s… um.. You know what? If it’s what you want to do and it pays well, go for it or whatever. Just warning you, sponsored athlete’s training is very harsh and time consuming. You don’t get to eat what you like and have spare time to yourself. You’ll have barely any time to yourself in the house. Not to mention–”

“That I can’t quit until my first fight? Yeah, I know that!”

“Alright fine then. Just… don’t kill anyone.” You gave him a suspicious glance, turning around and opening the door slightly to squeeze through without him seeing your bedroom.

“See you la–”

“Decider, could we have a look at the modelling place now? Pierro has given his permission for us to head outside and find the shop.” Arlecchino walked up the stairs, stopping after seeing the awkward placement of yours and Childe’s conversation.

“I CAN’T CATCH A BREAK I HATE MY LIFE!”

“What are they talking about?” She whispered to Childe, the ginger shrugging as a response.

“Dunno. They’ve been more annoyed than usual today, kind of reminds me of my mother when Tonia steals her clothes and goes outside to make them dirty on purpose.”

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... …

You can’t believe this. The Harbinger’s are actually letting you go outside without the worry of you escaping? Okay, you suppose you are essentially tied to Arlecchino right now due to her grabbing your wrist with an iron hold, but it’s better than nothing!

Your visible appearance must have been one to laugh at. You were wearing an oversized jumper and three of your mothers scarves which were so long they were almost touching the ground, even with the three wrapped around your neck twice. Thank goodness it’s cold today, if it wasn’t, you would be getting even weirder looks than you already are now. You sighed, your breath sticking to you thanks to the blue covid mask wrapped around your face under the bundle of scarves.

“You went overboard, you know?” You turned to her with unimpressed eyes, Arlecchino’s head still looking forwards in attention, ready for any potential surprise attacks like a true soldier.

“No, I say we didn’t cover you enough.” She replied with a rich voice. “I insisted we add a hat to cover your head, but Pulcinella couldn’t stand the fact you’d be sweating with it on.”

“Thank you…” You did a small imaginary salute to Pulcinella. “I would have cried if I had to wear any more clothes. I can already feel my skin soaking wet.”

“That’s repulsive.” She commented.

The two of you crossed the street, heading towards the shopping centre in the middle of your city. When following the link on the business card Arlecchino was given, Google Maps led you to the main shopping centre in town. Seeing this was a beautiful opportunity to see if you could find anybody you recognised to get help, you gladly accepted her request for you to guide her towards the shop she needed to get to.

You walked in, following after the silver haired woman with anxious steps. She stopped, seeing a map of the building and pointing at the words, trying her best to try and read them. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to look at your smug expression, watching her try and fail to understand the map.

“The place you’re looking for is that one.” You walked up to the board, pointing to the name of the clothes shop she was looking for.

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, trying to conceal her annoyment with a screwed up face.

The two of you then began walking through the shopping centre, yourself occasionally glancing at the confectionary shops smelling like heaven. You were tempted to drag her in, to have a look at the delicious delicacies wrapped in colours and dream of having them, but you decided against it considering her gaze darkened every time you yanked her towards a window.

“You are such a child.” She commented, breaking her silence to mock you. “Pulcinella tells us of your childish behaviour and resorts to disobey, witnessing it first hand at first was entertaining, but now it’s becoming frustrating.”

“I tend to have that effect on people.” You replied, struggling to hold your tongue with a grin. Technically you’re safe right now. There’s too many people around here for her to try anything if you annoy her too much. Sure, she would take out the majority, but there will be some who could run away unscathed in time to call the authorities.

Well, that’s what you would have done if you were 100% sure she came alone with you in the first place. Not only that, but you don’t want to get other people stuck in this situation with you. It’s kind of crazy how traumatic situations like this will either bring out the best or worst in people. In your case, you luckily responded in the former way. To think a couple days ago you were a selfish angsty hermit who never left their room unless your parents called for it.

Arlecchino isn’t stupid, you know she’s the Fourth Harbinger for a reason. She’s intelligent, patient, and excellent at hiding her true feelings if she needs to be careful. A terrifying analyser, and one you should probably stay neutral around when you’re alone with her. If she’s not as arrogant as you think she is, you’re guessing she asked one or two Harbingers to spy on the two of you from afar. It’s a shame you’re not as perceptive as the others, maybe then you’d actually stand a chance.

“Hey,” You felt a hypnotising click in front of your eyes, focusing on the mutated fingers with red nails very close to your eyes.

You came back to reality, finding the silver woman bent over slightly clicking you back. “I would advise you to pay attention and listen to me from here on. I cannot have my guide slacking and leading us in the wrong direction.” She coldly stated, slipping on a pair of gloves you advised her to wear before leaving the house.

“Right.” You coughed, avoiding her mesmerising eyes with a dramatic step back and a light flush on your cheeks. What in her right mind made her think getting that close to you was a good idea!? Is she trying to kill you, and embarrass herself in public??

The two of you walked in silence after that, the happy families and couples you walked by contrasting the tension between the two of you. Thankfully, the shop wasn’t too much further. If you had to walk anymore in that suffering silence, you think you would have charged through one of the shop’s glass windows. The two of you had successfully reached the shop in question and found the woman who scouted Arlecchino inside. You saw her brooming the floor through the glass windows.

“Sooo…” You awkwardly turned to her. “I’m presuming that’s the woman who gave you the business card?”

“Yes. That’s her.” Arlecchino nodded, grabbing your wrist and walking inside with you being dragged behind her.

The shop was very gothic. There were many clothes both in and out of fashion, that seemed to be loved by the community who were browsing the shelves and hangers with bright smiles. Yeah, this is a good shop. It reminds you of one of those small online businesses that only a few people know of due to its rarely appreciated products. You can see Arlecchino fitting in somehow.

“Wow, wow, wow! You actually decided to come!” The woman exclaimed. “Please, do come in! I’ll be with you shortly, I just need to put this broom back.”

She seems… cheerful.

The excited woman ran up to the two of you, standing at the front door. She clasped Arlecchino’s gloved hands, and practically had stars in her eyes.

“If you’re here, I’m guessing you took my offer then? Oh! I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Aurora, but everyone calls me Rora since the name Aurora is quite posh, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a beautiful na–” 

“Do you really!?” Rora beamed at you, interrupting your quiet voice with her louder brasher one. “I thought so too, until I realised it didn’t fit the brand in my shop.”

“Anyway…~” She laughed, interrupting herself. “We’ll have to see whether my vision does indeed match your style. Come with me, err, what was your name again?”

“My name is Arlecchi–” 

“Ahem!” You coughed, interrupting her with a side eye. You forgot to tell her she should use a different name for when she applies for the job. Fuck, that reminds you, you didn’t tell the other Harbinger’s who unexpectedly went out to find a job on their own to give fake names either!

She seemed to get the hint, closing her eyes then opening them again. “My name is Arlette, it’s nice to formally meet you once more.”

“Sure, sure! The pleasure is all mine, or something like that. Now come on, I’ll have you model some styles I put together to see if they’re good enough to go on my website.”

“Website?” Arlecchino mimicked, turning to you with a raised eyebrow.

“It means if she likes the way you look, you not only get the job but you get paid for the work you’re going to do today. That’s what it seems like anyway, she seems nice.” You shrugged in reply.

“‘Seems nice’?” She gasped jokingly. “I am nice! We’ll show you, you just wait there and we’ll come out looking fabulous!”

“Yes, wait there. It would be a foreseen shame if you exited this shop without a second pair of eyes on you.” Arlecchino hinted, before turning around and following the woman behind the till and through the staff door.

Well, that confirms your suspicions. She did get a couple other Harbingers to trail the two of you to the shopping centre. How frustrating of her. 

What’s even more frustrating is how Rora didn’t realise your appearance is unnatural! Come on, girl, even though it’s cold it’s not normal to wear this many layers inside a shopping centre! Oh well, maybe you could turn to the other customers in the shop?

You looked behind one of the shelves covered in t-shirts, peering through the gap to see two other girls laughing at a video on their phones. Would now be a good chance? But you’re being watched. Maybe you should test the waters first by having a normal conversation.

Yeah. That’s a good idea. Now, if your legs could just move and guide you to where you want to go that would be great. It would be a bit weird if you called out to them when you’re in an enclosed space together. Huh? Why is the ground shaking? You feel like you’re about to collapse to your knees, where did your strength go? Your eyes widened in realisation when you realised what was happening.

You can’t do it. Your legs won’t move, they’re shaking as if they’re trying to move, but can’t for some invisible wall. You can’t seem to get your voice to work either, it feels as if it’s wrapped itself inside your throat like a coil. Come on, just move! Now’s the perfect chance to try and do something! Are you scared of the fact that a few other harbingers may be watching? Or is it something else?

You looked around the room quickly, feeling a sickly heat wave over your head. You couldn’t tell whether you were crying from disgust or fear. Why is it, when you just need to do something, does your body freeze like this? Is something wrong with you? Surely it isn’t normal to just freeze, when people are scared you usually see them run - not stand like a deer in headlights!

Realising how awkward and how hard it would be to explain yourself if someone saw you in this state, you went to a random corner of the shop and tried to calm yourself down.

“Helloooo?~” Rora called out, stepping out of the staff room with Arlecchino trailing behind her.

“Where areeee youuu? We’re finished, and I need a second opinion!”

You sighed, giving your eyes one more wipe then rubbing your hands as if you were drying them under a hand dryer.

“I’m here, just looking at this collection of… jeans.” You lied, not being able to keep your voice cheery, instead it came off as a dejected unnatural tone.

Walking over to the two after a deep breath, you saw Arlecchino dressed in an entirely different outfit than her usual one. She was wearing a clean white blouse with long sleeves, the blouse tucked in a pair of black jeans with a chain connecting her back pocket to a section on her belt. There was a tie wrapped around her collar, descending down and resting above her chest.

She stood tall, a blazer slung over her shoulder rather than around her body. Not going to lie, she looks amazing, and strangely sexy in a way… Her modelling a tomboy outfit like this reminds you of a fanart you saw once, which you definitely didn’t spam a certain copypasta on… ANYWAY—

Your point is she looks great, Rora really knows her stuff.

“Well?~ From your stunned expression, I can tell I really hit the mark with this one! It’s targeted for office girlies who want to dress differently, but still classy. Non-gender specific and of course, fab-ul-ous!” She stepped beside the harbinger leaning a certain way and spreading her hands out dramatically.

“What do you think, Arlette? Is it comfortable? Is there something you would change?”

Arlecchino looked down at herself, judging her appearance with lidded eyes. After a short pause, she nodded and looked back at the designer.

“I like it. It’s comfortable, and the stitching is beautiful. Sometimes the most basic of outfits can make the boldest statements.”

“Exactly! I knew you’d get me!” Rora cheered. “And my, my! It’s not everyday somebody notices my trademark stitching. You have perceptive eyes!”

“Trademark? Does that mean you sew all these clothes yourself?” You gaped, not believing a word you’re hearing.

“Mhmm. I hate the idea of allowing a machine to create my clothes for me. I want to spread my passion and ideas sustainably, not mass-produce them in a factory without a care in the world. The idea makes my heart wrench!” She comedically weeped.

“Actually… To be fair, that’s actually why a lot of the shelves are still empty. Turns out managing a shop in a busy shopping centre like this takes a lot of work - especially when it’s just you. A lot of the time, when something is bought out it takes me months to refill the aisle back to how it once was. It’s difficult… but, I love it.”

“Wow…” You felt your eyes glistening. “Environmentally aware and sustainable? Rora, I might be your newest biggest fan! I’ll be honest, I thought you were just a massive Pinterest fan.”

“Ahah! I get that a lot!” She giggled into her hand.

“You wouldn’t happen to do custom designs, would you?”

“I haven’t thought about it. Buuuut, considering I’m running a little bit low on funds, I would love the idea if you had something in mind?” She thought to herself, encouraging the thought.

“Sorry, but it’ll have to be another day. My funds aren’t the best either at the moment. I’ll definitely keep the thought there though, if you’ll do the same?”

“Of course!” She gave a thumbs up. “Anyway… Whaddya think? You’ve had a look at one of my simpler designs, and I think you fit the image I had in mind perfectly! Your friend seems to agree also!”

Arlecchino stared at you for a few seconds before brushing a strand of hair out of her face and looking away.

“I’ll take the job.”

“Yippee! Welcome aboard, Arlette!” Rora jumped up and down, unable to control her excitement. Everybody else in the shop awkwardly applauded after being spooked by the sudden noise, not looking surprised in the slightest. It seems Rora getting excited is a usual occurrence…

“Alright-y then! Hmm, let’s see… we’ll discuss contracts and serious stuff tomorrow when you come in for your first official day… for now I guess I can ask whether you’d be okay with restocking shelves and helping me manage the till?”

“Hm? I thought I was simply modelling?” Arlecchino wondered out loud. “It is not a problem, I thought it would just be my image that’s being used.”

“You see, having someone monitoring the shop would give me more time to work on clothes and research. It could possibly get the shop running smoother and make business quicker.” She clicked her fingers.

“And besides, you seem like the thorough type. If someone tried to steal from the shop, I know you would chase them down instantly!”

Pfft, yeah, you can see her doing that alright.

“I appreciate the honest thoughts.” Arlecchino nodded appreciatively. “Would I be paid a higher amount?”

“Why, of course! I can see your added efforts would boost productivity which in turn could increase products being bought. When that increases, I’ll be sure to pay you more.”

“Then I see no issue with our arrangement.” She sighed, eyes shutting harshly when hearing Rora squeal in excitement again.

Oh dear, this is going to be a long day.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... …

“Aaaaand that’s a wrap! Thank you so much for this!” Rora clapped, thanking Arlecchino with a thumbs up and a cheer.

“That was… suspiciously easy.” Arlecchino mumbled her thoughts. “Your Kamera equipment took less than a minute to set up.”

“Well, yeah, duh? Hey, is your friend always like this?” Rora turned to you.

“Something like that…” You coughed into your hand, avoiding eye contact. “Anyway we should be heading out, it’s getting late and I’m hungry.”

“Before you go!” Rora ran behind the till, scrambling to pick up a few notes before running back to the two of you and handing them out. “Here, I’d be a bad boss if I didn’t pay you fairly for today’s work. We got around 12 outfits for my website, so this amount should be alright. Do you have any complaints?”

Any complaints… ANY COMPLAINTS!? She’s given her way too much, no wonder she’s having some financial troubles! Buuut, you are in need of some money… Okaaay, you’ll be a bit greedy and let it slide this time. But when Arlecchino’s next pay-day comes around you’ll definitely say something to protect Rora’s business - being too kind might be her downfall. If only you knew how right you were in saying that.

Arlecchino looked to you, clueless with the money she gratefully took from her new boss. You nodded, smiling as normally as you could, eyeing her as she folded it and stuffed the notes in her pocket.

“I will see you tomorrow.” Arlecchino waved slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the shop with her.

“Wai– Arlecc– I mean, Arlette, let me say goodbye too!” You struggled to speak, fumbling due to being lurched forward to match her strides.

“Bye Rora!”

She simply waved back, a gentle smile on her face as she eyed the two of you leaving her shop like a herd of elephants. Her smile dropped, her arm going back down to her side as she turned to the other customers in the shop.

“Ladies, you wouldn’t have happened to feel… something wrong there, would you?”

The two girls looked at each other, one looking clueless whilst the other nodded, agreeing without words.

“I didn’t see anything, they just looked like two normal people to me.”

“No, there was a threat of intimidation with your new worker.” The other thought out loud. “It’s hard to explain, but I get what you mean by feeling something wrong. The person with her looked like they were about to burst into tears at one point - hell, they were wandering around the store aimlessly when they weren’t at her side.”

“Huh? But if something was wrong, why wouldn’t they have just… I don’t know, passed us a note if they couldn’t say anything?”

“No. I don’t think they could.” Rora interrupted her. “Did the two of you hear their name, by chance? It’s almost as if Arlette was making sure that question wouldn’t come up, when she was talking the conversation always felt controlled.”

“Okay, even I don’t know what you’re referring to here.” The intelligent girl with the headband said. “If anything, Arlette didn’t speak very much. It was almost as if she was clueless about the whole thing, maybe that’s why she brought her friend?”

“Hmm… Wait, we really didn’t hear her friend’s name! I wonder why they didn’t introduce themself. Oh, speaking of suspicions… Now that I’m thinking about it, did anyone find it weird how they were wrapped head to toe in scarves and coats? They must have been boiling, I don’t think they would have chosen to leave the house like that…”

“That’s true. In fact, now that I’m thinking about their appearance also, I don’t think I could mention a single unique characteristic of theirs at all. If they ever entered the shop without all the coats and scarves, I don’t think I’d be able to recognise them unless they spoke.”

“I’m going to find out everything when Arlette returns tomorrow.” Rora looked determined, turning around back to the till. “Something just doesn’t feel right. I’m sure it’s nothing, and we’re just looking too deep into things, but I think it would be wise to ask more personal questions tomorrow.” 

“Good idea.” The girl in the headband agreed. “Would you like me to also be there tomorrow? There’s strength in numbers.”

“Yes please.” Rora’s face turned serious. “I could use all the help I can get right now. Say, ‘Lils’, you coming in tomorrow too?”

“Of course, girlhood is girlhood after all! We have to stay toge–” She flinched, running up to the window without warning and looked around. She looked back to the other two giving her a suspicious look. “Sorry, I thought I felt something weird. Must be all the creepy talk.”

“...Damn it, Knave. It hasn’t been a day and you’re already garnering suspicion.” Scaramouche whispered to himself in frustration, looking through the window carefully once the girl turned her head.

He sighed, moving away from the window to tail both you and Arlecchino. It seems his presence was needed here after all, the Knave didn’t warn him wrong. He has to give her credit, unlike some of the morons he’s been forced to come here with, everything she planned has indeed come true. He thought this outing would be useless, that it was a waste of time, but it ended up being useful and that’s all he could care about. What to do about those three though? It would be far too dangerous to let them live, especially considering they were onto her. What’s more important to him is this sudden interest in The Decider. In his opinion, they’re becoming far too curious. He would rather them stay entirely clueless.

“Hey, Arlecchino? Now that you’ve been paid… could we plea–”

“No.” She cut you off, placing her hand over her pocket so you couldn’t snatch the money inside. “We are not buying stupid things, we finally have money that you’ve been complaining for. I will not let you waste it.”

“But… But it’s a tradition I have!” You complained.

“Tradition?” She raised her eyebrow, not looking impressed.

“Yeah!! Whenever my mother and I come to the shopping centre, we always stop by a chocolate shop and treat ourselves.”

“What a stupid tradition.” She muttered under her breath.

“Come on, pleeeaaaseee? You’re a ‘Father’, you should know when to treat your children!” You tried to convince her, trying to use puppy eyes with your hands clasped together.

“Don’t try to convince your perfectly fine brain with your own stupidities.” She glared at you. “You are not a child of mine, and you never will be, so end that thought whilst it’s still alive.”

The two of you walked in silence after that, the occasional puppy eyes from you and a heightened glare in return from her. Scaramouche looked on from behind incredulously, mouth threatening to gape open in disbelief. Is he seeing this right, the Knave is tolerating your begging? Not to mention, her facade is definitely dropping. He can’t remember the last time he saw her like this without lashing out in a violent rage.

Before long, the two three of you found yourselves at the front of a shop. You stopped, looking up at her confused, until you realised which shop she stopped the two of you at.

“Arle— You didn’t!” You beamed at her in excitement. No way, she remembered which shop you were looking at the longest on your way to Rora’s shop!? So, she really did care about what you were thinking earlier!

“Pick what you want, and get something for myself also. I am trusting you to get something cheap and delectable, if I dislike what you give me I’ll tell the others not to consider letting you out of the house ever again.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You ran up to her, wrapping your arms around her tense body. You hugged her tight, smiling widely before letting go and grabbing her hand.

“I’m going to give you a tour of the entire shop so you can make your choice, trust me, you have an expert over here!”

“Ah…” Arlecchino looked away for a moment, the only evidence of her mood being her eyes shining more than usual. “Alright.” She nodded, a twinge of embarrassment showing.

Scaramouche felt his jaw drop, his incredulous expression from before leaking out in the shop like incense. Is he… Is he seeing this right?

Hoh, this will be interesting…

Helloooo! Nice to see everyone before another 6 months have passed. I'm hoping to be more consistent now that studies have become less important for this next year. Still important but my procrastination to do other things has no limit.

Just because I said I feel more motivated to get out of bed every morning in my Christmas message doesn't mean I've changed as a person lol

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll @vvzhyxx @averycuriousperson @starlaisopaque @liyuedragonmorax @lovelive-animequeen1029 @mayythammyy @eirly-morning-tea @rainejiang

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"The Sunset is Beautiful Isn't It?" pt. 1

The saying above is a beautiful way to bid someone farewell without having to say goodbye and I think it perfectly fits saying goodbye to our LaD Men because we can't keep hurting them. Someone has to end it. In first person p.o.v because it's you.

Goodbye Zayne

Your POV

I've been having dreams and I'm not sure I can even call them dreams. They're more like nightmares of a girl watching Zayne sacrifice himself for her. By the third sleepless night of terrors I've realized that girl...

is me...

These aren't nightmares they're slivers of time in the past. My past with him. These were not REM sleep hallucinations, I've been peaking through the eyes of my past lives. Foreseer, Master of Fate, Arctic Medic.....

Dawnbreaker....

A version of Zayne who rarely speaks. He never spoke a word to me, but showed vivid shock when I spoke to him in my dream. It was as if I saw through not only time, but space as well. I don't even exist in his world and even him I've hurt. I can feel his eyes on me as I sleep; our dreams intertwining with one another.

I've failed him. How can he smile at me now when I've failed to protect his smile time and time again. I can barely look him in the eye now without wanting to break down. He even became a cardiologist to help me. I want him so bad, but I can't do it I can't let this cycle continue.

One of us has to end it.

"Zayne...." He looks up from his paperwork that's sprawled out on his desk in his home office. "What's wrong? You look as though you have something heavy weighing on your mind" Just that simple concern made my heart feel like it was caving in on itself. My eyes burned with unshed tears as my words got caught in my throat. He quickly stands and briskly walks towards me, but I flinch away. He stares in disbelief at my sudden movement. "Did I do something?" I don't deserve his concern. I don't deserve his love.

I don't deserve him.

"Wh-" I swallowed hard feeling like thorns were piercing my throat. "Why did you become a cardiologist?" I whispered looking down at my feet.

"My parents are doctors I simply followed in their footsteps" He's so humble. "That's the only reason?" Before I could react his hands were cupping my cheeks and just looking into those green eyes that stared back in concern broke me. I sobbed as he held my face. "You may have also been a deciding factor....where is this coming from?"

It was then I knew why that past version of Zayne left without a word after I fell asleep. It really is too hard to say goodbye to the face of someone who looks at you as if you've hung the stars in the sky. "I'm just .... so thankful for you" I whisper.

Zayne's POV

She was always breathtaking when she didn’t know I was admiring her but that day as we sat on the balcony of her apartment the softest smile pulled at her lips. I could tell there was some melancholy in there as if she knew something I didn’t or there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

She slowly turned her head and held my gaze. Dear God she was gorgeous and with just one look I was stumbling over myself. She spoke softly as she grabbed my hand and moved it to her lap. “The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?”

All I could mutter out was a low raspy “Yes, yes it is”

…If I knew I’d never see her again after that day I would have held her hand tighter.

Goodbye Rafayel

Your POV

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" Rafayel poked me in my forehead following it with that rich giggle. We've been laying on his couch since he called me an hour ago to come over. He wants my full attention, but I can't stop my mind from wandering. I don't understand how he can still find it in himself to love me after everything I've done to him over the centuries.

"Why haven't you taken my heart yet?" He's shocked stock still as the words leave my mouth. I can see his entire demeanor shift from playful to somber as he looks away. "Raf your flame is dying..."

"Who told you?"

"I've been getting flashes of memories with you from a past I don't remember" He stands from the couch and begins to pace. "I know why there are pearls all over your house"

"Don't do this please" He's on his knees now holding my hands. Why is he begging to keep me around when our love is a tragedy?

"Raf you've got to save your home and your dying flame please just take my heart this pain is too much for me to bare anyway"

"I will not! I choose to love you I chose you and I'll always-"

I couldn't hold back my tears anymore. "Stop stop! Just stop please I can't do this Raf I've never been so depressed in my life I've ruined you and I can't live with this" I try to pull my hands from him but he has an iron grip around my wrists now. I struggle trying to get away from him sobbing as I fight in vain.

"I'll take care of everything I don't need your heart"

"Yes you do Raf" I finally manage to wrench my wrist from his grasp and I dash towards the door. Just as I grasp the handle and pull the door open he's right behind me slamming it shut.

"Where are you going?" His eyes are wild and full of desperation as they search my face for answers.

"I just need some air Raf ... I'll be back" We stand there staring at each other for what feels like hours before he drops his hand and I slip out of the door.

Rafayel's POV

There's three solid knocks at my studio door each one giving me even more of a headache. "Studios closed go away!"

"Rafayel..."

I knew that voice what's she doing here? I stroll over to the door cracking it open so only my face can be seen. "Aren't you going to let your aunt in?" Talia said with irritation in her voice. "Why are you here?"

"I have something for you ... it's from MC" I froze at her words. I hadn't heard from her in over a month. I quickly opened the door and finally noticed the white box marked with bio-hazard on the side.

My heart dropped I couldn't help but fall to my knees as my aunt slid the box into my hands. "Is this...."

"Its her heart ... she left this note for you as well"

I snatched the letter from her tearing into it in hopes this was some kind of sick joke. I would forgive her for it. I swear on my life I would.

My Beloved Groom, The sunset is beautiful isn't it? ♡

I couldn't do anything except lay on the floor and curl my body around the box that held her lifeline. Nothing but a piece of the woman who was my lifeline.

Zaynes fanart @/Shanyi708944594 on twitter

Xavier & Sylus here...

[mynahx3]

One Moment Was All It Took

Helloo!! This is a blerp inspired by @envy-of-the-apple Yandere! Satoru Soulmate Headcanon. I wanted to write a little something inspired by it. Hope you enjoy! There will be more parts to the story, hehehehe >;3 This story will be dark!! MDNI** Warning to those that are uncomfortable with obsessive love, proceed at your own risk. Masterlist

Satoru never planned on coming to that cafe; it was a last minute option because his favorite was closed for renovations. It was the closest place on his way to Jujutsu Tech that made his morning strawberry croissant with coffee (more like a pound of sugar and milk). Now, he thought, as he walked, he couldn’t be happier with the detour. 

He stood to the side with the other people in the morning rush, each one waiting for their caffeine to start the day. Hearing his order number, he goes to get his food, still texting someone on his phone. While reaching for it, he came into contact with someone who was also not paying attention. The woman jumped when she felt another hand grab hers, looking up to see a tall man with white hair and a blindfold. She apologized to the man with an awkward laugh. Not thinking anything of the contact between them, but to him, it was a moment that changed his entire being. 

Looking at her with wide eyes after quickly removing his blindfold, he was taken aback. This was the only person who had evaded his Six Eyes and Limitless technique without even trying. She was just a nobody, albeit a cute one, a civilian with no cursed energy whatsoever. Time was slowing down for him. as he gazed at her in disbelief. He couldn't shake the feeling that their meeting was no mere coincidence. The realization left him both exhilarated and terrified at the same time, knowing that their fates were now intertwined in ways he couldn't yet comprehend. He'd heard stories about Jujutsu sorcerers finding their soulmates who were immune to their techniques, but he never believed them.

He was engrossed in their eyes; the steaming coffee was left untouched on the counter. She remained in place, clear as day. The rest of the world, with its blinding brightness and sheer detail, almost gave him a migraine. For once, he had to actually look at someone to see them—not just a mass of cursed energy and molecules; he truly saw them. Their face is a breath of fresh air for the man. 

“Sorry bout that.” She smiled, handing him his paper bag with his pastry. Their hands touched once more as he took it from her. The mere contact sent lightning down his spine from his fingers, and goosebumps formed along his arms. She was in casual attire, and her hands were soft and warm. “I thought I heard them call my number.” 

She's adorable. Gazing down at her with his usual endearing expression, he muses. 

“You’re fine.” He smiled, continuing to look over her, taking all of her in. His heart thumped loudly in his chest; he was scared she could hear it. 

She smiles softly and nods to him before returning to wait for her own food, believing their interaction had ended. Ignoring the way he watched her, she fidgeted with her sleeve from his intense gaze. To her relief , the barista called out her number a second later. She quickly grabbed her food and walked away, nodding him goodbye politely with a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. One that sent a shiver down his spine at the sight.

Satoru watched as she left, turning on his heel to go after the woman with haste, leaving his food behind. He wanted to know more about her. No, he needed to. Blood pumped in his veins as he ran behind her, easily moving through the crowd. Not one person was able to touch him, all except for her. Grabbing her hand, he turned her to him a bit roughly. This surprised her greatly, making her gasp in shock at him.

“You're really pretty. Would I be able to get your number?” Satoru asked, looking at the woman with anticipation, still holding her hand. He liked how her hand felt in his. With an awkward smile, she tries to take her hand back, pulling slightly to be free. He gives in, letting her hand fall back to her side. 

“Thank you, sir… You seem nice, but… I have a fiancé." She tells him, raising her left hand for him to see. On her ring finger was a pathetic, small stone with a silver band. Something he knew he could do better than a million times over. Still, he didn't relent, stepping closer to her.

"I can be better." He boldly stated this, stepping closer again. Her eyes widened in surprise at his audacity, unsure of how to respond to his persistence. The tension between them grew as she struggled to maintain her composure. Clearly nervous, she fiddled with her ring, pursing her lips together at the stranger.

"I appreciate the interest, but I have to respectfully decline." She told him, stepping back from him. The obvious discomfort seen in her eyes and body language made it clear that she was not interested in his advances. He visibly deflates at this, his jaw clenching at the rejection. Brows furrowing as he looked down at her.

"Don't you even want to get to know me?" His tone was teasing as he tilted his head, his blue eyes analyzing her. His hands were going into his pockets as he smiled down at her.

She shook her head, looking to the side as the busy commuters walked around them, making her more anxious as she fidgeted with her ring. A few people looked their way as they stood in the middle of the sidewalk, clearly annoyed by the obstruction.

"I'm sure you're a great guy, but I'm just not interested," she replied firmly. Looking back up at him, she gasped, not expecting him to be towering over her so quickly, having only looked away for a second. His intense gaze made her shake more, her gut telling her to run. She steps back slightly, looking up at him with wide eyes. His large hand moved to cup her cheek, the other resting on her waist, a little too low for her liking.

"Cute." He smiles, revealing a row of perfectly straight teeth, his blue eyes wide. "I like a challenge," he added, sending a chill down her spine.

Frowning, she slapped his hand from her face and pushed him away, confident he wouldn't do anything else with the people surrounding them. Her patience ran thin at his insistence, despite her clear discomfort. She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze with defiance.

"I'm not interested," she stated firmly, hoping he would finally get the message and leave her alone.

"I don't like being told no." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "I always get what I want," he whispered, causing her heart to race with fear. She took a step back, trying to maintain her composure and not show any sign of weakness in front of him.

"I suggest you respect my boundaries and leave me alone," she said, her voice small but firm. "I'm not someone you can manipulate or intimidate."

His smile faded slightly at her words, but he didn't back down.

"We'll see about that," he replied, his tone ominous. Turning on her heel, the woman left the stranger quickly, shaking her head at the weird encounter that made her feel uneasy. His eyes follow her form as she escapes into the sea of people, laughing a little at the sight. Whistling as he pulled out her ID and twirled it around his fingers, he took a look at her name and address.

"I'll see you real soon." Satoru smiled, tucking her ID into his pocket.

[skay-ali]

The forgotten daughter

Pain, you felt a lot of pain... Your whole body was hating you at this moment, perhaps the bad karma of your entire short life was taking its toll.

You were trying to get air and more strength, you had to follow the nurses' orders.

You hated this, the pain didn't stop, it became less and less bearable. You wanted to numb your entire body and pain, like you did before, when you went to any party and let yourself be carried away by it, taking whatever appeared in front of you, to no longer feel pain, to forget that you were alone...

But now, when all your pain stopped, when loud whimpers sounded in your ears.

At the moment the nurses placed a new being, bathed in a liquid and other things, a being that accompanied you for almost a year in your solitude, the small ray of light that rested peacefully in your arms, as if you were the only thing in the world. world that this little being needed.

You cried, not because of pain, you had already done it a lot, not now you did it because you had someone in your life, someone who would always need you, a little person who would never ignore you, who would not leave you because you are not relevant in his life, you knew she would love you, now you had a family.

You were right, it was the first time you did it.

Your little baby, the ray of light that illuminated your world full of lack of control and emptiness, was the same one that did not let you leave his side for any moment, who looked at you with eyes full of adoration, for a long time until you fell exhausted in the world of dreams.

Today was one of those days, where nothing special happened in your life but still, you saw it as one of the best you ever lived, even if it was just you and your little baby in a lonely house, it was wonderful.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing sweetly, your baby smiled every time you talked to her and had your eyes on her, she moved one of her toys with her little hands, lying in her crib.

You didn't expect things to change in a big way that day.

First a knock on the door... and suddenly.

A man you haven't seen in a while, a great friend of yours, your family... he came back still with a haggard appearance and lifeless eyes.

You took him inside your house quickly, you began to care for him the best you could, if he continued on that path he could reach his end.

You gave him food and tried to make him rest, but he could only watch the baby sleeping in the crib, his gaze stopped for a moment on your little daughter's toy, a teddy bear that looked like a little cow.

“that's not…”

“Yes, it's Alicia's toy... she gave it to me one day as a gift for the baby.” You sat down next to him.

"ahhh.. always kind and selfless with her actions... even if that was the only thing she had left as a memory of our parents" the voice of the low-level man, it no longer had much power, it became weak.

“If she was always like this… you know she was the most excited about my pregnancy” a weak smile appeared on your lips.

“yes... even if you don't believe it deep down inside her, she wanted to get married and start her own family…. But now” he stopped, some tears ran down his eyes, after that he couldn't stop..

You didn't either, you also missed your best friend, the girl with whom you always shared secrets, with whom you did the craziest actions and the girl to whom you could tell all your feelings without her judging you.

You saw him cry, sitting next to him you hugged him trying to comfort him... with some tears in your eyes.

You knew that pain, you felt it when you thought your younger brother had died, but it was different, he would no longer see his sister breathing again and living again, he only had a grave to remember her.

“___... ___ … I can't continue like this” you agreed with his words, you ran your arms along his back trying to support him.

“I must avenge her... I must make sure her death is not for nothing, I will make them suffer like I did” you stopped your hand, that... that was not what you were thinking.

“no..hey..I don't think so”

“You may not like the idea, but listen to me…” the boy looked into your eyes, even if they were red.

“I was lost since her funeral, alone even though you all tried to be with me, full of anger, but seeing your Christmas letter with the picture of little Alice... I... I couldn't stop thinking what if something bad happened but this time with you, or with your little daughter, whom Alicia adored even before she was born” the small conversation full of sadness ended, starting with something deeper, it scared you to think about the point that the man next to you wanted to get to.

"Evil will always be surrounding us, we can't do anything... but we can prevent people from committing acts of evil." His melancholic state changed, a more determined voice came out of him.

“stop... don't even continue... what you're going to say isn't good” even with your hands tangling your hair, trying to calm yourself down, it was impossible.

“We must put an end to the villains.”

You sighed, even if you hadn't exercised, nor did you have a feeling of illness... you were still tired.

Seeing not only one man, but another sitting at your table... it was exhausting... you were just lost in your thoughts, while they talked about their new ideals with great interest.

You didn't trust what they said, it was dangerous, plus your morals would be at stake, you would hurt innocent people... you didn't want to do that, since you can remember you have been a coward, you would never stop being one.

“I don't think we should do this” you looked up at the men, they left their conversation behind just to listen to what you were saying.

“Come on___, this is something big, we will get rid of the criminals who have done nothing but take away our happiness, not only that we will stop living in fear that in a moment a crazy psychopath will threaten us or our loved ones, even if It's just one of their silly cat and mouse games with a hero” the new man who arrived at your house a few hours later, the man who also lost his beloved to a psychopath.

“He's right, we have something in our hands that will improve humanity once and for all, without the heroes showing up and claiming to be saving us.” Alicia's brother Nick defended the plan they were trying to get you to accept.

"Also, most of the time the heroes are as guilty as the villains, with their games for not getting rid of their threat from the beginning, they are guilty for creating villains and don't make me mention how they bring their enemies to the cities in Instead of solving it in their own homes, it is not fair that we are dragged along by their problems as well.”

The speech, that left you thinking, even when the men left, they left a card for you, a number and address.

You thought about the possibilities of doing it, joining them, over and over again you considered it, it was time to put things in order, but their plans were not exactly something you agreed with.

Hurting people, taking their lives from them, for their crimes, that was not fair, no one should judge that, you thought more about seeing them suffer, rot in one place until their last breath.

That was never possible, they always found a way to escape their sentence, to create chaos again.

It was supposed to be a happy day, you were supposed to be enjoying your daughter, dressing her in the most beautiful clothes you could find, singing her lullabies or telling her a story, although you knew very well that she couldn't understand you, you liked doing it, playing with your baby's toys, while she looked at you with her big eyes and smiled when you looked at her, use the television as background noise to liven up the atmosphere a little.

There was great happiness around you, but a small feeling invaded you until it became impossible, you were not enough, you did not deserve what you were experiencing, you had not done much to deserve it, they would take it away from you at some point, in front of your eyes, You would suffer a lot, again, just like when your mother left.

The woman who said she loved you, but left you, you were afraid that you would do the same with your daughter, leave her and make her suffer, that she would spend a life full of loneliness.

Soledad, you felt that, again, how stupid you were, how could you feel it when you had your dear daughter by your side, were you a bad person? If you were, you have always known, you don't deserve anything you have now, that's why your children were miserable.

No.. it wasn't miserable, in fact, you were lucky, you were just a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.

And now you cry, you shed tears like an innocent soul, what a bad person you were, crying in front of a baby, just for your life, one that was better than most children in almost all parts of the world.

You were disgusted.

You were scared, scared that everything would end, you deserved to be alone, but just thinking about it scared you.

You took the card.

After thinking about it very carefully, after leading a life in a spiral, you were no longer going to continue like this, you were going to change it and everything around you too.

“Hello guys... I've thought about it and I'm in.” Your tone of confidence was evident, your voice did not waver or tremble, you were going to do it, you would change your life.

“First introduce yourself” a serious voice surrounded you.

You were a little restless, the room you were in was cold, the disturbing synods of the machines upset you, the devices you had on were also uncomfortable.

“My name is ___” you said a few minutes later.

“Why are you here?”

“Are you seriously going to ask these unnecessary questions” you questioned the man who was on the other side of the room, using a speaker to communicate.

“It is necessary, part of the procedure, so that it is recorded that you are giving your consent” You sighed when you heard it, you don't know if you're doing the right thing, what if something bad happens... on the other hand, if this helps you improve, you'll do it, you can't continue in such a self-destructive spiral, harming yourself and your daughter.

And if by the way, if your idea worked, you would help the world improve, without the ideas of genocide of all criminals.

“Hey, I'm serious, I don't want lawsuits” It was good that in a serious moment they took a moment to joke.

“I am patient 01 and I will erase my memory” you looked at the camera in front of you, without showing any emotion.

But it wasn't enough, because the two men were still looking at you, waiting for you to continue talking.

“I want to erase all my self-destructive and sad thoughts that don't let me continue with my life…” you hesitated, you had to say everything you would erase from your head, or just a small introduction.

“continue” you no longer care about who was talking to you.

Everything you wanted to get rid of in your head came to the surface.

“everything since I was little, and I was afraid of everyone and the things that happened, the death of my mother... when I saw her leaving, abandoning me, her eyes losing their last traces of light when I entered that room” you needed carry a calm attitude, instead of getting upset, what kind of presentation would you give to the camera, you still hadn't started to say everything and you no longer had the strength to continue.

"forget the boy, who I considered my brother until he broke his promise, how he came back, but never for me, I forget... my whole family and what I experienced with them, their looks as if I never existed, I was never recognized as his sister and daughter, seeing all those women parade through my home, receiving more attention than I ever received from my father, those feelings of not being enough, even more so when my father confessed that he never saw me as his daughter, I was just a Little girl looking for love and I found my father's ear.”

“It was her mistake, it was her mistake that I existed, and dad could never take responsibility, I did, I stayed with my little mistake, who I love, I love her with great madness, I would do anything for her, I think That's why I'm in this place."

“I call him dad, most of the time I did and he never called me his daughter.”

“so I want to forget my depressive mother, my father's family, aaahhh and that man I knew” a small smile left your lips when you remembered him “Alice's father, please delete him” your voice became dark at the end, you couldn't anymore endure it, you cried, you let your tears fall and be caught on camera.

“You forgot your name, I need you to say it in full.”

“____.... ___ Wayne” you sobbed even as you spoke.

The recording ended, leaving the room silent.

"Well, you already met the mastermind behind everything and the first patient of our Alice or Wonderland project." The man who was still being interrogated interrupted the thoughts of all the heroes and their assistants who were present.

Many glances went towards a stoic-looking man in the middle of the room, who only saw the black screen.

Bruce didn't know how to react to such news, it was like a bucket of water, how come he had ruined it so much with you.

He had hurt you, he was the villain in your life, he couldn't handle that.

And now that it was yours, you became a woman involved in a big crime, you were also alone, you always seemed weak to him, now that was against him, what would you do to protect yourself in such a chaotic world, he couldn't even imagine that something bad is happening to you.

He needed to find you and repair what he did.

I'm sorry if there are errors in the use of he, she, and other pronouns.

Tag list: @kore-of-the-underworld @vanessa-boo @jsprien213 @delias-stuff @vanilliona @bat1212 @yanrandom @Quiarst @palabra de niño salvaje @el termino @leo227 @sirenethblog @ masa para galletas @blueberry19000 @con seguridad

[sanjisluvbot]

As Above So Below

Masterlist

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Synopsis: You had your entire life just beginning, fresh into college, and as a treat, you were going on a trip across the world where you find out what your father truly does for work and why you were able to move into a nice new home. A normal young girl thrust into a world where she needed to relearn everything she ever knew and escape the clutches of an assassin clan who wanted her as a wife.

Perfectly manicured nails are now chipped and brittle. Your mother spent the next half an hour pacing your new hotel room. You lay slumped on a chair, eyes following her every move back and forth, forth and back. You bit your lip knowing the millions of thoughts running overdrive in her mind not knowing whether or not to speak up. 

You wanted to comfort her but knowing your mother that might make the situation worse, the last thing you needed was to be at odds with her after what just went down. Rubbing your hands down your arms you give yourself slight comfort, a touch of warmth in a room chilled by the reality and graveness of the situation. With a sharp intake of breath, you regained determination. 

“ I think you should get off your feet and take a shower, it’s been a long night,” 

She paused, turning to you eyes slightly wide as if she had broken out of a trance. Seeing the exhausted state you were in, her gaze softened, still all done up as if it were a good night to remember. A lump formed in her throat seeing the bags forming underneath her daughter's eyes while draped in glitter and riches like a star falling from grace. 

 Dropping her hand from her lips she smiled softly, “ Would you like to shower first? I’ll order some room service and we can maybe watch a movie…”

You nodded and unstrapped the clasps of your heels, you silently made your way to the bathroom while your mother went over to her suitcase. The blinding fluorescent light felt too harsh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked so pretty, in a nice dress with accessories you dreamed of owning, it felt foreign looking at the girl in the mirror. 

You sighed and turned the shower on quickly undressing and stepping into the warmth of the water. You took your time, even letting your hair get wet, wanting to wash away everything from the last few hours— the previous few days you’ve had to endure. 

After everything was said and done you were curled into your mother's side on the bed. The exhaustion finally beginning to take its toll on the two of you. You shared whispered giggles over the movie you watched, a piece of nostalgia for the movie your mother had rented, it was one you constantly watched on tape as a child. A thought popped into your head before you drifted off to sleep. It angered you slightly as your father's face popped into your mind's eye. 

Was he alright? What happened when the two of you left? Would you both speak to him in the morning? 

The next morning you felt anew. The rest was needed and the jet lag completely dissipated, You woke to your mother on the phone and scribbling on a notepad. You made your presence known and she smiled pointing to the line connecting to room service in the corner of the room. 

The morning came and went and you felt you could take the day by storm facing anything thrown at you head-on without fear. An announcement on the ship had notified you and your mother that you would arrive on the island, you made a note from a previous conversation that the room number on the ship would be the same as the one within the hotel. The island was clear as day, and you grew jittery thinking about being on land once again. 

The two of you were quick to leave the ship and go to the hotel, your mother had told you that she would be spending the day talking to lawyers about the contract. Looking out the window you notice the large pool and there were already a few people basking in the sun. You quickly change smiling to your mother on your way out of the room letting her know you’d be right where she could see you out at the pool. 

You walked passed people carefully eyeing them to make sure you didn’t run into the moron you met last night. “ The last thing I need is to see that freak by the pool,” you thought to yourself. When you settled into your chair a waiter quickly passed you by and you ordered a drink to help you relax. The sun beamed down in all its glory, you generously sprayed sunscreen on every inch of skin you could reach. You felt the eyes on you, perverted and judgemental all the same. Moving your hair over your shoulder, you try your best to get your back. You bit your lip out of frustration and embarrassment, it felt like everyone was laughing at your awkward position. 

“ Need a helping hand, wife.” 

A large hand easily slipped the spray out of your hand while another steadied you by your waist. You hastily pushed the hands off of you turning around to face the dark-eyed bastard you prayed never to see again. He gleamed down at you menacingly, wide-toothed demonic smile shining right at you so proud of himself for catching you in such a state. 

Dressed head to toe in Dakr clothing without a care in the world for the heat, you glared back at him lip scrunching up in disgust at how he dared to touch you.

 “ Give me back my sunscreen,”

He laughed manically shaking his head. You click your tongue before trying to snatch it from his hand. He swiftly evaded you and tossed it into his other hand and when you went to strike again he held it over his head. How childish you think, you huffed before looking off at the pool seeing people's gaze even more on you than before. While looking away Raian’s eyes wandered over your figure. He was more than used to seeing different kinds of people but the way your skin seemed to glow under the sun was distracting, to say the least. He wanted to tease you more, have your eyes solely focused on him rather than the fucktards who meant nothing staring at his woman. 

He sucked his teeth at the skimpy little bikini you wore. Wanting to ask you why the only thing left to the imagination seemed to be your nipples. When he first spotted you he went from your hair straight to the roundness of your ass and the small triangle of cloth up your ass. He was sure if you bent over everyone would get a nice view of what he planned to take claim of on your wedding night, he couldn’t help but make his way over to you. 

Your fiery gaze was upon him again and that gaze was the lighter to the match in his chest. Raian never really focused much on women throughout his last twenty-one years as from a very young age he knew that his marriage would be arranged. He would never say he didn’t let his eyes wander, that he was ignorant to human nature but— he never truly sought out a woman before you. 

Letting his mind wander he didn’t realize until you were right under his nose, that you were pushing him toward the pool hoping he would release the hold on your sunscreen and fall right on his ass. He smiled once again before snaking his arm around your waist and falling back into the pool. 

The water was a stark contrast to the heat of the sun, drenching you in icy coldness. His hold was still tight on you as you came back up to the surface. He laughed heartily at your disheveled state, his hand wandering lower on your waist. You wriggled out of his grasp pulling yourself out of the water. Fingers pointed and hushed whispers were all you could focus on as you wrapped your towel around yourself. 

“ What’s the matter? Can’t handle what you dish out or—”

You didn’t stay to hear anymore grabbing your phone and running into the hotel. What an embarrassment, was he trying to belittle you and let you know just how powerless you were in this situation? Your damp skin was making you shiver as you squeaked through the main hall, loudly stomping in your flip-flops not caring about the water you were tracking in the lobby. You all but slammed your finger on the elevator button hoping that would make it come down faster. 

The door opened and a few people sparred you glances, you shifted your head towards the floor and leaned on the elevator walls pressing the button to your floor. As the door was closing you met his gaze, he had just run into the lobby searching for you and you were thankful he didn’t make it in time. The ride up to your floor was accompanied by annoying soft music that did more to irritate than to calm you. 

You rolled your eyes in annoyance when instead of the thirtieth floor it stopped on the twentieth. As the doors opened your eyes widened in shock, Although slightly out of breath Raian was towering in the doorway. You were quick to try and slip out but his arm slammed on the door in front of you. 

Voice trembling in fear and anger you say, “ Move out of my way. Now!” 

He doesn’t move an inch and you duck under only to be jerked back by your arm. You look up to him and there isn’t a trace of a smile on his face, making him look even more intimidating if that were possible. He gave you a once-over before taking his eyes from you and pulling you completely out of the elevator. You berated him with your words and dragged your feet across the ground and he ignored your angered pleas of release as he stalked through the hallway. 

Using his free hand he dug into his pocket pulling out his key card and a dangerous thought made its way into your mind. The room opened and you felt tears well up in your eyes. The room was almost pitch black, the curtains blocking out most of the light. He threw the card onto the mini desk before finally turning to you. His eyes held something different— something softer if that could be used for a man like him. 

You held the towel tighter taking a step back, something flashed in his eyes almost like he could smell the fear brewing inside you. He stepped towards you and you took another step back quickly turning your head to the door to try and make a run for it. He licked his lips before grabbing you once more, you yelped in fear when he pulled you close. You fought for your towel until he completely took it off you. 

“ Don’t do this, please…Raian,” 

He felt like his heart was going to leap from his chest, His name had never sounded better. He looked into your fear-stricken eyes once more, the tears already falling as you begged him not to hurt you. Without a word, he placed the towel on your head trying his best to be soft while drying your hair. 

You had calmed down slightly allowing him to dry you off. When he removed the towel you both stared at one another, who was going to make the first move. The silence was unbearable and with a huff, you were finally out the door. You didn’t want to give this psychopath any kind of wrong impression by lingering in his room in the dark too long. 

You choose the stairway instead of the elevator feeling overexposed without your towel. You exhausted your last energy running up the ten floors, unbeknownst to you the cameras had been watching your every move. 

“ Grandfather, is it alright for the two of them to be alone together so soon?” 

The old man chuckled light-heartedly at his granddaughter, he was more than glad to see the way Raian was already zeroing in on you. He thought it would take a much more forceful approach to get you to comply but his grandson was less of an anomaly than he thought. 

The old man knew better than to think the two of you had been intimate behind that door as he watched the situation unfold before his eyes. He knew that In Raian’s way, he was trying to apologize for embarrassing you and making a scene in front of all those people. 

A/N: Is this the calm before the storm?

🏷️: @arans-princess-reblogs @imaginarydreams

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[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) to think deeply about something

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

All rights reserved to their original publishers.

Now playing: Long Way From Home by The Lumineers

Chapter One: Forks, Washington

     Moving from Jacksonville, Florida, to the rainiest place in the continental U.S. wasn't an easy adjustment.

     Seeing your sister act like the walking dead was even more trying.

     All of it was because of that boy, who left her when things got hard. Mom only thought of "young love" and said "a little heartbreak builds character!"

     Phil thought Edward was an ass, but that Bella was being a little dramatic about her first heartbreak.

     Charlie and I shared a similar sentiment: Edward Cullen better not come back to Forks. If he does, I'll kill him.

     I'd get away with it, too. Charlie would shut down the investigation because he'd be glad the boy was gone and wouldn't hurt his daughter any more.

     I'd hurt him, especially but not limited to the fact that I wasn't quite sold about Bella falling down the stairs after she ran off. I don't think Edward pushed her, per se, but I don't think they told us the entire truth. Call it a gut feeling, or intuition, or whatever. I don't trust him or his family, aside from the good doctor. He's always seemed the most normal, from what I've heard.

---

     "Bella," I call, knocking on the door to her room. It was quit still, and I was waiting impatiently for her to answer. We had to go to school before we were late and got another day of detention.

     "Bella!" I shout, knocking on the door again. I hear some rustling and watch as the knob turns, only to find my sister with her pajamas on, her hair a mess, and looking like she had been through a hurricane.

     She blinked owlishly at me, almost like she was deciphering who I was.

     I sighed through my nose, trying to be sympathetic to her. I guided her to the bathroom and made her brush her teeth while I untangled her hair. In an attempt to keep it from getting ratty again, I braided it back tightly and wrapped put oils on the ends to try and keep it from frizzing up.

     "Sorry," she told me, staring blankly at the mirror. All the anger in my chest deflated, and for a second, I felt as hollowed out as she looked.

     Hollow, empty, devoid of soul.

     That's how she looked.

     Anger ignited in my chest again, but not at her. At her shitty ex-boyfriend who left her in the woods because he was a coward and couldn't break up with her properly.

     "Don't worry about it," I told Bella, "I'll get Charlie to write a note or something. I guess the driveway was extra icy this morning."

---

     The school day passed without much happening.

     Bella's friend Mike tried to get me to pass something on to her, but I couldn't hear what he said before Jessica pulled him away without a glance at me.

     I thought she was stuck up, but she wasn't a bad person.

     Lunch was subpar again, the cafeteria food being lukewarm at best and cold in the middle of the mashed potatoes.

     "I wonder if Charlie could threaten them into making the food better," I wondered aloud, poking at the food on my plate.

     Bella remained frozen in time, staring at the seat beside me as if she was waiting for someone to appear there.

     I sighed, shaking my head.

     I hummed to myself as I continued to poke and prod at my food u til the bell rang to get back to class.

---

     A few days pass.

     Nothing changes.

     Bella's still depressed and hardly living in the real world. She wakes up screaming from night terrors and Charlie's started to sleep in the couch so he doesn't have to get up from his bed anymore.

     I've started to develop insomnia, I think.

     I don't sleep until the early hours of the morning, since that's usually when Bella stays asleep, too.

     I'm awake from six thirty in the morning until two in the morning.

     My routine consists of waking up, getting dressed and ready for school, then getting Bella up and dressing her. It's about forty minutes allotted to each of us, and then an extra ten to get Bella's lunch ready and packed.

     I go to school with her, go about my monotonous but peaceful day, eat a silent lunch with my sister, finish my day, and go back home.

     When I'm home, I work on anything I didn't finish already. Sometimes I go in for work at the 24/7 diner at the corner of Wheatgrass and 74th, working the night shifts and getting home in time for Bella to stay asleep. I make my lunch from the food I got to take home from the Roy's Diner, I take a scalding hot shower, and I pass out for the four hours before I have to wake up again.

---

     Angela asked me how Bella was.

     She seemed like the only one that truly cared about my sister.

     Jessica was sour because she was ignored. Mike only wanted in her pants and was stringing Jessica along. And Eric was nice, but really only cared about the news paper and Angela.

     "Is she getting any better?" Angela asked me, sitting down beside me at the table I was reading at.

     "Not really." I replied, looking up at her for a minute. "Charlie's about to send her back to Jacksonville."

     "Oh," Angela said, looking sad at the news. "Is there anything I can do for her? I try to invite her out, but she never shows."

     I shrugged, "Not much to do. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make her drink."

     Angela nodded, her lips thinning for a moment before she got back up.

     She patted my shoulder before she left, and I immersed myself back into my reading.

---

     Working the night shift at Roy's was never boring. We got loads of interesting people here. Charlie called the diner "a drunk's dream." Sure, it was a little sleazy and a lot of greasy food, but it wasn't horrible to be in. If you ignored the obnoxious 70s disco decor.

     A duo of two men were sat in my section, both of them looking like hell.

     "Welcome to Roy's, I’m y/n. What can I get started for you?" I asked, my peppy customer service voice grating on my own nerves so late at night.

     They both had tanned skin in shades of bronze, and long, dark hair. One had it pulled up in braids down his back, the other's hair loose.

     "A Pepsi, please," the first man said, and he looked to the other boy, "Jared, what do you want?"

     Jared ordered a strawberry milkshake.

     "Be right back!" I told them, spinning on my heel and going to get their drinks.

     "How old do you think those guys in your section are?" Chelsea asked as I filled up the drinks. She was staring at the two I had just spoken to, and I shrugged.

     "Dunno, don't really care." I said, "They look grown enough, I guess."

     "Grown enough?" She parroted, laughing, "They all have to be at least twenty!"

      Again, I just shrugged.

     "Ugh, no fun." Chelsea said, rolling her eyes and disappearing into the back to go gossip with the cooks.

     "Here are those drinks," I said, setting them down before each of the boys. "Anything to eat?"

     "I want two number twos with lettuce, tomatoes, unions, and pickles, please, and a large fry." Jared told me, and I wrote it all down quickly. Two double patty burgers and a large fry was a lot to get down, but boys had large stomachs, I guess.

     Sam spoke next, ordering, "A number three with tomatoes and lettuce only, with a number four with everything and a large fry, please."   

     Spicy chicken sandwich with everything on it and a pulled pork sandwich, I wrote, then said, "Be right back, then."

      I handled my other tables until the food was ready, and I had to ask Kass to help me carry it all. When I set the food down, in front of them, they both thanked me and started eating. I grabbed their cups to refill their drinks, and when I was back to the table, most of their food was already gone.

     "You two sure can put food away, wow," I said, setting the drinks down again. Jared had ordered another milkshake, and a water. Sam still got the Pepsi.

     Sam smiled, looking weary but better. Color had returned to his face, and his eyes looked brighter.

     "We're growing boys," Jared joked, and I smiled.

     When they left, after ordering a slice of pie, I got a nice tip and a doodled wolf on the check.

---

     Bella went out with Jessica to see a movie, I think. I wasn't paying a lot of attention when she said it, I had a mountain of homework from physics and not nearly enough time to do all of it.

     Charlie found Bella's wallet and told me to go give it to her, so I went to Port Angeles to find her.

     I saw Jessica first, and she was watching in mute horror as Bella spoke to some strange man on a motorcycle.

     "Bella!" I yelled, people glancing my way as I stormed up to her to snag her by her arm and drag her away.

     For a moment, she looked hopeful, like she was expecting to see someone else.

     "Oh my god, you're stupid!" I yelled, dragging her back to my car. "Do you not think about anything anymore? He could have kidnapped you! He could have done worse!"

     "I just-" she caught herself, flinching, "I thought I knew him."

     "Good lord," I said, swearing at her for her recklessness, "I thought Charlie would have told you about stranger danger, but I guess not! Maybe it's time for a refresh!"

     Jessica trailed behind us as I berated Bella and lectured her over the dangers of strangers and dark alleyways and motorcycles.

     I folded my sister into the passenger seat of my car, ordering Jessica in the back seat.

     "But, uh, what about Bella's car..?" Jessica asked, staring at me.

      "I'll get it tomorrow. I don't trust Bella not to do something else stupid with it now." I huffed, reaching over to buckle Bella's seatbelt and peeling out of the parking lot.

     I dropped Jessica home safely and pulled into the driveway, marching back inside.

     "Your daughter has lost all her sense!" I told Charlie, "Dad, you need to tell her about stranger danger again before she gets herself kidnapped!"

     "Y/n, now wait a minute-" he started, glancing at the door as my sister came stalking in behind me.

     "Bella, you wanna tell me what your sister is talking about?" Charlie asked, and I huffed as she just sighed.

     She explained and got a stern talking to, but I wasn't satisfied.

     I started going everywhere with her, after that.

     When we weren't in classes, I was attached to her hip. Hell, I even started sleeping in her room with her.

     She still kicks.

     But the nightmares become less frequent when we have sleepovers every night.

     I make her take care of herself by doing it for her, forcing her to brush her teeth and wash her face as I do her hair in the mornings and at night, packing a healthy lunch for her, and forcing her to keep up with her studies.

     It's exhausting, but it's better than staying up until I cant anymore, and it's slowly getting me my sister back.

     And then Jacob comes back into the picture

     He and Bella are fixing up some old bikes. I have no interest in them, so I sit with them and listen as they talk.

     Sometimes I draw some still life pictures of them, sitting together and working.

     Sometimes I sleep.

     Sometimes I do my homework like a good student.

     Slowly, I started to trust Jacob with my sister. I started picking up more daytime shifts at Roy's, and I started to relax.

     The nightmares still happen, but they've gone down to about twice a week now.

     Sometimes she only wakes up crying, others it's the screaming again.

     But progress is progress.

---

     "Y/n, I sat a group of three in your section. Booth in the far corner, babe." Makayla told me as I passed the host stand.

     "Thanks, Mak," I said, hurrying to drop off my drinks to some travelers before going to my new table.

     Ryan comes barreling my way to drop some food off, and I spin around him to avoid knocking into him and his tray of food. I get to the booth in the back, seeing some familiar faces.

     "Hey guys," I smile, recognizing two of my favorite customers, "I haven't seen you two in a minute, how've you been?"

     Sam, who I learned later from Charlie, had been the one to find Bella after she was dumped in the woods by Edward. I didn't care if he knew who I was or not, not really, because I knew who he was. I couldn't do much for him, but showing my gratitude for saving my sister through the Family and Friend's discount was enough for me.

     "So busy," Jared complains, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "He's had me doing chores for days and makes me take more if I don't do my homework! He's like my mom now!"

     Sam rolls his eyes as I laugh, reaching out to flick Jared in the forehead. The two of them have been coming to

     "You're working with me, I'm responsible for you. So sad for you." Sam says dryly, and I shake my head at their antics.

     "Strawberry shake and Pepsi?" I ask them, my eyes tuning towards their new friend.

     He looks rough, almost like Bella did. His long hair is pulled back in a hastily done bun, and his eyes are sharp and attentive. He looks at me oddly, his brows slightly drawn together and his eyes squinting slightly.

     "What can I get for you?" I ask him, an odd feeling rising in my chest as I meet his eyes.

     He's quiet for a moment before he takes a deep breath and orders a water.

     I nod, taking down his drink order and turning towards the kitchen.

     "Ooh, your friends brought someone new!" Chelsea crooned, coming to drape her arms over my shoulders as she watches me fill up the two cups in my hands. I roll my eyes.

     "Chels, why are you always back here when you're supposed to be doing your work?" I ask, dragging her towards the milkshake machine as I fill up Jared's strawberry shake.

     "I'm doing my side work! I got cut early." She says, smacking her gum in my ear. I cringe, reaching back to push her face away from mine.

      "Love that for you, girl, but get your smacking away from my ears, please." I told her, hearing her laugh as I add a cherry to the milkshake and a drizzle of chocolate syrup. She walks off to go finish cutting her lemons and I put all three drinks on the tray to bring them out.

     I set down the drinks and milkshake, turning the tray under my arm as I pull out my note pad to take down their food order.

     "Number three, no unions, large fry, and a chicken sandwich, unions, tomatoes, lettuce, with a large fry." Jared rattles out, and I jot it down quickly. I turn to Sam and notice a distinct lack of his friend beside him.

     "Chicken tenders and a large fry, number two and a basket of onion rings, please," Sam says, adding, "Paul will have the same as me, but without the onion rings and with fried pickles instead."

     I nod, writing it all down.

     "You want me to put a slice of pie in and bring it out later?" I ask, seeing Jared nod enthusiastically.

     "That'd be great, y/n, thanks." I again nod at Sam's words, turning away and hustling to the kitchen to put in their order.

     I service my other tables while the boys' food is being made, bustling around my section. I'm keenly aware of eyes on me, but I figure it's just someone waiting to get my attention so I can give them a refill.

     When their food is ready, I bring it out to Sam and his group.

     I set each of the baskets down before each of the boys, picking up their cups and going to get them refills.

     They each eat quickly, and every time I pass their table, my skin prickles.

     I try to see if it's one of them that needs my attention, but each time I look over, they're all engrossed in their food, or a conversation. Any time I look over, they're in tense conversation. I try and keep my distance so I don't disturb them, but I make sure to keep attentive to their cups and plates.

     I sigh after a while, deciding that I must be making things up. No one seemed to be looking at me.

     They ate quickly and I ran them their check. I was left with a good tip and a smiley face on the paper of the check beside Sam's signature.

---

     When I was finally cut to go home, I took a long shower and collapsed in my bed. When my eyes closed, I saw a picture in my mind's eye.

     Dark eyes framed by thick lashes. My vision slowly panned out, and I saw dark eyebrows. There was a slight wrinkle between them, like the person was frowning. Slowly, my mind put together a strong nose, then high cheekbones, full lips, and a strong jaw. Finally, I saw long, dark hair framing this handsome face.

     Slowly, I put a name to the face I saw in my mind.

     Paul.

     Why I was seeing Sam and Jared's friend, I had no clue. There was no denying that he was attractive, though. His angular face and sharp eyes made him look uninviting, but his sullen demeanor was softened by his full, almost pouty lips and well kept hair. His lack of facial hair made him look younger compared to Jared, who's scruffy chin made him look closer to twenty than to seventeen. The long, silky hair on his head had been messily pulled back, yes, but it served to make him look almost boyish, also.

     I was pulled out of my thoughts when my door creaked open, and I peeled my eyes awake to see Bella standing in the doorway. Wordlessly, I pulled back the blankets around me and scooted over. She shut the door behind her and fell into my bed, sighing as I reaching out to pull the blanket over her shoulders.

     I fell asleep shortly after, Bella's breathing steady almost immediately.

Word Count: 3157

Author's Note:

Hey guys!! This is my first fic ever! Please lmk what you think about it 🥰

Also, I plan to change some things about the story. I'm going on a mix of the books and movies, but I plan to change the timeline a little, change the logistics a bit, and make some of the characters a bit older because I don't like how literally everyone is like 16?? Anyway, I'll probably put out a chapter of all the stuff I change to get some feedback and stuff

All rights go to the original authors and publishers !