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ellatoone7 · 10 months ago

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❄︎ Night off ❄︎

Alexia's favourite girls series

Tía Mapí and Ingrid to the rescue

When Mapí and Ingrid suggested a sleepover, you thought that it meant you and Alexia would be staying over too but they insisted that you and Alexia get some much-needed alone time. Alexia didn’t even hesitate to accept as she thought of all the things, she could finally do to you in an empty house. The walls haven’t heard her name being screamed in a while and she doesn’t want them to get used to that.

Alexia had gotten a few new things recently as a gift for herself that she has desperately wanted to use on you, but she didn’t just miss making love to you, she missed spending quality time with just you. A phone call was made, and she now had a reservation at your favourite restaurant. Emilia had been bouncing off the walls as soon as she found out she got to spend some time with her friends Sofia and Carlos.

“You have your toothbrush?” Valentina nodded as she swung of her Mami’s arm. “I go to sleepover with Carl!” Alexia chuckled as she swung her up and caught her with ease tickling her belly as she squirmed in her arms. Emilia shuffled out of her room with her Barcelona backpack wrapped around her back. “Vamos!” She shouted as she legged it for the door, she was yanked back by her bag as Alexia turned her around. “Todavía tenemos tres horas hasta que tengamos que irnos Emilia.” The little blonde groaned loudly as she slumped on the ground, “I will wait.” Alexia stared down in amusement as she ruffled her hair.

Isabella was excited too, she loved Ingrid and because she was the oldest, she got to stay up later than the rest and watch a movie with her Tia’s. “Mama where is my charger for my iPad.” You held it over your shoulder as you were cooking, “Gracias.” Isabella left a kiss to your cheek before running off to do God know what.

“Mm, smells good mi amor.” Alexia sigh as she walks in. Val is hanging onto her back as her little arms slightly choke her mother. Strong arms encircled your waist as she pressed her sturdy body against yours. Val giggled as she watched her mamí kiss your cheek, you giggled too before turning in your wife’s embrace to be greeted with two near identical smiles.

Val was the absolute perfect mix of the two of you, she had your blonde hair and Alexia’s hazel eyes and smile. As she grew into her personality it was clear that she picked up aspects of both you and your wife which only further delighted the both of you. Whereas Emilia was a carbon copy of you and Isabella was the carbon copy of Alexia.

“How are the two cutest girls standing in my kitchen right now?” You cooed as you pinched both of their cheeks and like mother and daughter a bright blush graced both of their tanned freckly faces. “Don’t let Meels and Bella here you bebita.” Alexia whispered as she playfully bounced the little girl on her back, “Debemos ser los favoritos de mamá. ¿No crees princesa?” Val placed her finger over her Mami’s lips as she giggled loudly. You couldn’t resist to leave a kiss to her chubby cheek as she patted her Mami’s shoulder in sympathy. Alexia was pouting from the lack of affection before you too took pity on her a pressed a kiss to her cheek.

Val frowned, “Kiss?” You cocked your head in curiosity, chancing a glance at your wife who mirrored your expression. “Why Mami didn’t get her special kiss?” The little girl babbled as she stared at her two parents, “Special kiss?” Alexia asked as she tried to figure out what her little girl was trying to tell her. “Sí, Emilia says Mami gets special kisses on the lips otherwise she will die.” Val’s eyes widened as she came to her own realisation, “No! Mami die? Quick Mama!”

You were absolutely blindsided at the number of emotions that your daughter just expressed but she was on the verge of a meltdown and your wife was trying to hide her laugh. Before it got out of hand you quickly partook in your favourite activity and left a sweet kiss against your wife’s familiar lips. Alexia, as always, looked happily dazed as she chased your lips. You hold her in place by her chin as you turn to smile at your now very smiley daughter, ‘Bien?” Val nodded as she rested her chin against her shoulder. “Mami won’t die if she doesn’t get her special kiss, she’ll just get upset.” Val nods in understanding but you can tell it went through one ear and straight out the other.

True to your words, Alexia was pouting heavily as she tried to push her lips towards you. You give in and kiss her until she’s satisfied, Val still has a happy smile stretching her little face once again identical to her mothers who is still sporting her cheeky grin. “Vale, stop distracting me and go get into trouble somewhere else.’ You laugh gently as they send each other sneaky smirks and with one last kiss for both of them which were happily reciprocated, and they scampered off.

After you had rounded your family for lunch and watched each of them inhale their pasta, another thing they got from their hound of a mother and ask for seconds immediately you were finally in the car. Alexia was trying to wipe some sauce of Emilia’s face much to her disgruntlement, “Vamos, just one more wipe prometto.” Emilia huffs but let’s her quickly clean her face as she pushes her hand off. You on the other hand struggled with getting a squirmy Valentina into her seat so you can fasten her seatbelt.

Finally, after a swift kick to the jaw and a wrestle to tie her seatbelt, you were on the road. Alexia’s hand was waiting for you as you quickly interlock your fingers, like clockwork she raised it to leave the softest of kisses to the back of your hand. There was a mixed reaction in the back of the car as Isabella groaned playfully, Emilia shielded her eyes and Val giggled. You bit your lip to stifle your laugh and you didn’t even need to look over to know your wife was the exact same.

Mapí and Ingrid were only delighted to welcome their extra guests as were the children as Valentina and Carlos both screamed excitedly at the sight of each other. “You two are insane, you know that?” Ingrid laughed loudly as she hugged you tightly, “I believe the words you are looking for are ‘thank you’” You glanced over at your wife who was holding Sofia like a little baby and placing kisses all over her face. An hour passed as you helped your girls settle in for the night before you decided to make your move. “Girls, we’re leaving!” You shouted and instantly there was herd of footsteps before they came into sight. Isabella hugged you tightly and promised to look after her sisters before making her Mami promise to play football with her when they got home tomorrow.

Alexia picked Val up and placed kisses all over her face, “Do you have Senor Fluffy?” Val gasped in horror as she shook her head at your question, you were just about to resign to the fact you would have to drove home and get him when Alexia being the greatest mother she is pulled your daughters beloved stuffed rabbit from her back pocket. “Mr. Fluffy!” She reached out and snatched her stuffy to cuddle it close to her face. “Did you think he would let me leave without him? He’s been just as excited to come.” You smiled softly as her eyes lit up, forever infatuated with how her mother could communicate with her stuffy. “Gracias mucho Mamí. I love you.”

You watch you wife melt as she tucks her daughters face into her neck. Deciding to give them their moment you step away to say goodbye to Emilia. “Mama, I promise I won’t have too much fun without you.” The blonde whispered as if she just confessed to a murder. “Darling, promise me you’ll have all the fun tonight.” Emilia hesitated always wanting to make sure you were okay. Emilia had imprinted on you and was like your partner in crime. Just like your wife she was extremely protective over you.

Alexia walked over to say her goodbye while also catching the tail end of the adorable conversation. “Who will you have fun with?” She asked with her famous puppy eyes that neither you nor Alexia were immune too. “I will be with Mami all night, she’ll make sure I have fun.” Emilia lit up as if remembering that you were going to be with Alexia, “You love Mami!” You laughed as she held her hand out for your wife who was positively beaming at her little family. “Mami, promise me you’ll make sure Mama has fun.” Alexia took her request very seriously as she placed her hand on her heart and got down on one knee. “Te juro que me aseguraré de que mamá se divierta al máximo sin ti. Será difícil, pero me esforzaré.” Emilia seemed pleased with her commitment and the stern face quickly softened as she placed her forehead against Alexia’s. ‘Te amo Mami.” Alexia kissed her nose gently, ‘Te amo mucho mi princesa.”

After the goodbyes were said and thanks given you and Alexia were back in her cupra. You already missed their little faces, but you knew they were going to have the time of their lives with your best friend’s. It also helped to have your wife who you got very little alone time with next to you. That was also obviously on the forefront of Alexia’s mind as she wasted no time connecting your lips frantically. Gone was the sweet and gentle Ale as she immediately tugged at your hair and slipping her tongue in your mouth. You moaned into her, longing to be closer to her now that you were free from any interruptions.

Large hands hoisted your body over the middle console as she settled you in her lap, legs either side of hers. The kiss only grew more heated until whines were falling from your lips, and you were two seconds away from grinding pathetically in her lap. Alexia didn’t let up an inch as the minute you pulled away her lips were attached to your neck wanting to mark you as fast as she possibly could. It took everything in you to gently coax her away from her trance as she she stared up breathlessly at you. Pupils dilated and lips swollen, you wondered how you could go so long with just quickies and really quiet fits of passion in the middle of the night.

Her cold fingers were a stark contrast to your hot skin as she drew patterns up and down your bare back. “I’ll miss the girls, but god do I need this.” Your words were practically moaned out as you kissed her soundly again, slightly nipping at her lips to convey your need for her. Alexia could barely breath let alone respond as she leans her head back against the head rest. You laugh gently at her dishevelled form before deciding that it was now a good time to put an unfortunate stop to these activities until you were in a more respectable place. “Do you think it’s too late to ask them to keep the girls for the weekend?’ You slap her chest playfully as she chuckles at her own joke, pulling you closer so your body is flush against hers.

Before you knew it, you were throwing on your best dress as it neared seven. When you made it home after many detours and impromptu make out sessions and one very close call where Alexia nearly had you in her backseat, you and Alexia relished in the very rare silence. As much as Alexia wanted to have you properly naked in bed so she could have her way with you, she also just missed being in your presence, so she quickly grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, and had you cuddled up against her on the couch while watching whatever shitty reality show she pretended to hate.

Alexia threw on her best casual suit that matched your dress and was now watching you add the finishing touches to your makeup. She loved just watching you doing mundane things, absolutely mesmerised at anything you did. You reached for her wanting her to be as close to you as possible, her hand fit in yours perfectly like they always did. She brushed her lip across your shoulder blade as her arms winded around your waist, pulling you back into her.

Alexia swayed you both softly, a smile that was firmly reserved for you laying contently on her face. “Eres tan bella mi Vida.” Another kiss to the crook of your neck this time was delicately placed to confirm her words. It always baffled you that the woman behind you could still make you fall in love with her more and more every single day even though you had been together for you whole life.

You pressed a kiss of your own to her jaw as you craned your neck to meet her pretty eyes. “I love you. More than anything in this whole world.” Alexia held you tighter meeting you halfway and placing the most loving of kisses against your awaiting lips. “Vamos mi amor, taxi is outside.” You sighed happily, grabbing your bag and then your wife’s hand as she led you towards the car.

You had decided not to drive based on the fact that you were both a little bit wine drunk and had plans on having a few more glasses at dinner. Alexia was only delighted to not be driving as it allowed her to wrap an arm around your shoulder and whisper the most mind-numbing sweet things into your ear along with controlled and tamed kisses here and there. The usual booth in the corner of the restaurant was waiting the two of you as she helped you into your seat. Alexia’s arms wrapped around your shoulder again as you leaned into her firm shoulder, giggling at how you still couldn’t properly read the menu.

Nevertheless, you didn’t even need to look at the menu as Alexia ordered for you, a kind smile on her face, something that always made your heart flutter was how kind your wife was even though it was just basic manner you knew you were extremely lucky. You fell into your own little bubble as you drunkenly giggled at every little comment both of you were making.

“So, we are free for the night. What do you want to do?” Her freckles were extremely prominent in the light as she placed her chin on her hand, leaning against the table. “There is a lot of things I want you to do tonight.” You whisper softly, gently biting at her earlobe as she inhaled deeply. “No te preocupes cariño, tengo muchas cosas planeadas para cuando te lleve a la cama.” Her words rolled off her tongue as they always did when she spoke in her native tongue, and it made you want her impossibly more.

“Other than that, do you have anything else in mind?” Ever the pleaser Alexia wanted to do something fun with you, making sure she truly doesn’t waste a second. “Let’s go to the beach.” You quip making her smile brightly, so many of your dates had ended up on the beach always leading to great memories. In fact, the first time you ever talked about having kids was at the beach. You had just moved in together, finally being able to permanently move to Spain and start your life with your soulmate. You were both twenty-one, once again slightly tipsy as you lay on her chest.

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” You slowly asked, not for even one second fearing her answer as you cuddle closer to her. You could practically hear her thoughts, perks of being best friends since you could even talk. “Four maybe five.” She replied so casually as if she hadn’t been thinking about it since she first kissed you. “All girls not that it would matter but knowing the Putellas it will be girls.” You laugh softly as she nods at her long line of women in her family. “You obviously haven’t thought about it at all,” You teased as she quietly groaned, pushing you onto your back as she props herself up on one arm, “Next you’ll be telling me you have their names picked out too.” It was a joke until you saw her cheeky grin and realised that she did in fact have names ready.

Every time you go the beach you think of that moment yet now you have those girls, already secretly planning on having a fourth after each birthday passes. Your food arriving did little to break your bubble as Alexia held out her fork immediately feeding you the first bite. Like you always did in their restaurant you both hounded down your food until you nearly felt sick from how much you ate. You finished off your glass of wine while also declining the offer of desert as Alexia claimed to go to the bathroom like she did every time she wanted to secretly pay the bill. You had stopped trying to fight her on it as it genuinely ruins her night. Alexia adored spoiling you and she had plenty of money to do so not that you didn’t, you were doing quite well for yourself.

You both stumbled out of the restaurant laughing as Alexia trips over herself. As always, the gravitating pull that has always surrounded you and Alexia worked it’s magic as Alexia wrapped her strong arm around your waist and hugged you into her chest as you walked to the beach. “Can we facetime our girls tonight before they go to bed?” You asked as you stared up at her with your signature puppy eyes and Alexia couldn’t believe how alike you and Emilia were as if she wasn’t the image of Isabella. “I already gave Mapi a time mi amor.” Alexia playfully scoffed as it she couldn’t believe you would’ve thought anything else.

Your hand traced over her built chest as you make the last turn for the beach. You find a nice spot as Alexia quickly takes off her jacket and lays it out for you to sit on. For as long as you’ve known her, she has always been the most chivalrous person in the whole word. She would be the first to hold the door open, pull out you chair and offer her hand, give you her jacket or jumper whenever so much as a chill ran up your spine. She was so atuned to your emotions you hardly had to communicate at all.

Just like always Alexia lay down on her back, inviting you to cuddle up to her as you eagerly do so. A kiss pressed to your temple had you closing your eyes as your hand found her heartbeat. “I have a crazy idea.” Alexia sat up still holding you close, you shot her a curious look as she softly unzips your dress. You rolled your eyes amusedly, “Having sex on the beach? Yeah, like we’ve never done that before.” You husk as you make no move to stop her, all you get in response is her charming smile. You figured you’d make yourself useful as your fingers nimbly undo the buttons of her shirt.

Normally by know Alexia would have you at the brink of an orgasm but she hasn’t even made a move to kiss you. You put it down to the fascination she had with undressing you, as her eyes roamed over every inch of new skin revealed. Finally, she places a soft kiss on your neck before she’s suddenly standing, ridding herself of her the rest of her clothes until she’s standing in front of you fully bare.

Getting the hint, you think she’s trying to send you, you get on your knees and let your nails sink into the back of her thighs as she laughs softly, “Vamos, idiota.” She pulls you up and helps you take your panties off before you too are fully naked and suddenly, she’s pulling you towards the ocean. You didn’t even hesitate to follow her, laughing like a teenager as she doesn’t even think before diving straight in. You were a little more apprehensive in your approach but as your wife resurfaced with a mischievous smile you knew you’d be under water in the matter of seconds. Her arms wrapped around you, and you were underwater immediately, laughing loudly as you resurfaced and wiped the salt from your eyes so you could softly slap her strong shoulder.

Alexia didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but she was always proven wrong especially with how the moon reflects in your gorgeous eyes and your breath-taking smile as you threw your head back with laughter. Alexia waded over to where you were floating, “Hola.” She teased as she placed her hand on your bare hip and effortlessly hoisted you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her. You knocked your forehead against hers, your face was sore from smiling as you kiss her nose. Alexia’s hands trailed down your lower back until she left a teasing squeeze to your ass and left them there.

“This night was perfect. Thank you.” You whisper as you kiss her lazily, arms slithering around her neck as you card your fingers through your wet hair. “Eres perfecto, Te quiero mucho.” Alexia just had her magic ways of making you feel eternally young. Maybe because the two of you had always been in love and it just grew the more you did but you felt safe and so incredibly loved by the mother of your children and your wife.

Her hazel eyes bared into your soul and the air was knocked out of your lungs until all you could do was convey the bleeding, life altering, urgent need for the former athlete. Nothing else was on your mind, you could barely think but you finally were able to mutter the one thing you wanted most in the world at that moment. “Take me home baby.” Alexia’s smile could in fact get wider as she started out of the water, holding you up the whole way as she kissed you feverishly.

Only breaking away to whisper, “Cualquier cosa por ti mi alma.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #barcelona femeni #woso #Alexia's favourite girls

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soyaei · 9 months ago

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what would nanami be like with his family

Nanami Kento with his family headcannons.

Husband!Nanami x Wife!Reader

Note: Its all about family. Hello everyone im back!!!!! (i have a week of school break!!!!! and my teachers actually barely gave us homework. )😭😭💗　This request has been in my inbox since forever and im going to write the request along with part two with my friend’s request. Enjoy!

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who will make sure he comes home when you and his child are awake. Will never purposely get back late and when he does, he gets takeout and wakes you and his daughter up to eat in midnight. Its really fun and seeing his daughter being so excited to see him and you giving him pecks on his face makes it all worth it.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who will bring you two to theme parks whenever its holiday season. And when its in the weekend? Time to go on a shopping spree. He loves spoiling his two girls.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who lets his daughter play his phone since shes not in the suitable age to have her own yet.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who lets his daughter sit on his lap while he is driving. Will also let her play with the steering wheel but of course, Nanami makes sure she isn’t actually going to spin the steering wheel, not when Nanami is effortlessly holding the steering wheel strongly with one hand.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who goes to Ikea with you for furniture shopping. Will get anything you want and actually pay attention if you want him to pick which one is better and suitable. Does he leave his daughter in the Ikea kids play? Well… he has a hard time thinking about whether to leave her there or not. But if she really wants to then maybe Nanami will reconsider. He is just too protective.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who always says “I love you” to both of you when leaving for work, or when he’s about to sleep. Will never forget too.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who whenever hes alone with you, he will give you kisses everywhere. Places that he couldn’t kiss in front of his innocent daughter. Like necks, collarbone, thighs, hips, and many more. Hes kissing them more romantically than sexually.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who makes coffee and tea for his two girls in the morning before the two of you wake up because Nanami often is the first to wake up.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami wakes you up with kisses on the face. With you, he kisses your lips multiple times and with his daughter, he kisses the forehead, and then the cheeks, and finally squishing her cheeks.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who is a master at making ice cream. He mastered this skill because you always crave ice cream and when you tried Nanami’s handmade ice cream the first time, you fell in love and will often ask him to make you some than buying one.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who buys and iPad for her daughter when he finally got you to agree. Though, with conditions. And that is to have a time limit. No iPad while doing homework or eating.

╹๑ Husband!Nanami who is the one who changes his daughter’s diaper or make her milk in the middle on the night when she was still a baby. Will force you to let him do it if you insist on doing it yourself.

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imbored1201 · 1 year ago

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How do we put up with you?

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Words: 1,936

A/N: there’s a lot of Mapi and reader beef in this one😭

You hated traveling but also loved it. It was a perfect opportunity to do dumb things and easily get away with it since everyone was too tired to care. The bad thing about it was you had to sit down and be patient.

The whole time in the airport, Alexia would hold your hand, or Sandra, since you liked how soft her hands were.

"Restroom," Alexia told you as she reached to grab your hand. "I don't have to go," you told her, only paying attention to your phone. "Hey!" You said as she snatched it from you. "You always say you don't have to, then when I come back you complain that you do, come on," you glared at her as you stood up and took her hand.

"Aw, the baby needs her mommy to take her to the potty," Salma cooed as she pinched your cheek. You swatted her hand away. "Leave her alone," Alexia told her, which Salma was quick to oblige.

—————

Once Alexia went into one of the stalls, you were quick to rush out. You went to a gift shop that was nearby to look at what they had.

After a couple of minutes, you noticed Alexia rushing out the restroom and in the direction of the team. You smirked, shaking your head, and continued to look stuffed animals.

"You really want to give her a heart attack, don't you?" You jumped at the sound of Ingrid's voice. You turned around and smiled at Fridolina and Ingrid. "Look at this puppy," you held out the puppy that Frido took.

"Grab a candy and let's go," Ingrid told you, and you were quick to grab your favorite candy and gave it to Frido.

Ingrid held your hand as you walked back. You smirked at seeing Alexia go off on Patri and Pina.

"I think you lost someone," Frido announced, making everyone turn to her. "You see, we told you we didn't know," Pina told her, glaring at you. As usual, Alexia suspected that they had a part in your disappearance and got scolded for no reason.

Alexia quickly swept you up in a hug. "You know you can't do that, idiota," she scolded, smacking the back of your head. "Look at my new stuffed animal." You held it up for everyone to see.

Pina snatched it away and examined it. "Can I name it?" She genuinely asked. You thought about it for a second. "Not your child, not your choice." Claudia scoffed and went to get her own stuffed animal to name.

————

You were bored and energetic; the candy Fridolina got you gave you an extra boost. Alexia sighed as you saw you eating it, too tired to even take it away from you. She wanted you to be tired so you would sleep the whole plane ride.

"Come on, we have to board," Alexia said, grabbing your hand. Marta took your suitcase, and you happily made your way onto the plane.

"Can I sit with Ingrid and Mapi?" You asked her, looking at the couple. Mapi groaned upon hearing you, making Ingrid smack her in the back of the head.

"Okay, here's your bag; it has your juice, iPad, and snacks." Alexia spoke a little too excited, it was understandable; she needed a break from your nonsense. "Move, I want middle," you told Mapi, who shook her head.

"Mapi move," Ingrid now said. Mapi gave her a look of disbelief. "Mapi, don't start arguing with a kid." Mapi sighed and got up. You smiled and sat in between them. Lucy looked back at you and gave you a warning look when you kicked her seat again before the plane even took off. It was going to be a long flight.

————

You were bored again after 10 minutes. After kicking Lucy's seat none stop you finally got scolded by Mapi, and she threatened to tell Alexia.

Speaking of, Mapi kept staring Ingrid down when she thought you were distracted by your iPad. It was disgusting, in your opinion. She was practically drooling all over her shirt.

"Can you stop eye-fucking her" you told her when Ingrid went to use the restroom. Mapi looked at you, shocked, not believing those words had just came out of your mouth.

You smirked at her. "I'm telling Alexia" she announced, standing up to call Alexia to make you sit with her.

"You do that; I'll tell her it was you that broke her favorite vase, not me. All because a teenager was kicking your ass in a game," you knew you got her there when she went silent.

You were beating Mapi in FIFA, and it was worse since she was trying to impress Ingrid, who was watching the whole time. You were teasing her, and she decided it was a good idea to throw Nala's toy ball at the wall; it hit the vase instead. You had never seen Mapi so scared.

You took the blame since you knew it would be good blackmail later on.

Mapi kept glancing at you and back to her phone, not even looking at Ingrid's direction anymore, even when the green eyed girl asked her something, she counted down the minutes until the plane landed. She needed a break from any kind of children.

You had another trick up your sleeve, though. You knew with Mapi's looks that things would most likely heat up tonight in their hotel room.

You turned to Ingrid and tapped her shoulder. "Can me, you, and Frido have a sleepover? Like last time. Alexia can never sleep on the first night, and it annoys me." Mapi turned to you, wondering if she heard you correctly.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said. "Why not? I'm fine with it; I've missed her late-night thoughts." Ingrid shrugged, and you stuck your tongue out at Mapi, who muttered curse words under her breath.

"Watch your language," you scolded her, immediately cuddling into Ingrid's side. All she could do was stare you down, despite the growing temptation to strangle you.

————

Thankfully for Mapi, she got a 30-minute break after landing and getting to the hotel. During those 30 minutes, you had to somehow convince Alexia to let you have a sleepover with Ingrid and Fridolina, then explain to her that Mapi was staying with her. It wasn't going to be easy.

"Did you take my sweater again?" Alexia asked you as she stepped out of the restroom from her shower. When she saw you, she frowned. You had your little backpack ready to go. "Where are you going? It's 9, your bedtime is at 10."

"Me, Ingrid, and Frido are having a girls night," you told her happily. "You're barely telling me this?" She sounded a bit angry, but mostly confused.

"Ingrid said it was fine, and you're stuck with Mapi for tonight," Alexia huffed at that. Those two together didn't make a good combo when it came to sleeping in the same room.

Alexia sometimes had a hard time falling asleep in a new environment, so she was constantly getting up. Mapi couldn't sleep if she heard any kind of noise, so she would get annoyed by any movement.

————

"You have a toothbrush?" You nodded. "Charger?" You nodded. "Extra clothes?" You nodded. Before she could question you more, you walked out the door.

"Bye Lex!" You called out, running to the elevator. Ingrid and Mapi's room was on the floor below. You didn't even have to knock on the door since an angry-looking Mapi came out with a bag of clothes and her blankets.

"Bye bye," you smirked at her, going past her and pushing her outside. "Eres un-" Before she could finish, you slammed the door in her face.

You ran to Ingrid and jumped on her bed. "Can we please ding dong ditch some of the girls" Ingrid shook her head, making you whine.

"Behave tonight, or I'll send you back to Alexia's." You nodded and jumped up, hearing another knock on the door.

"Frido!" You exclaimed, jumping on her, when you opened the door. She carried you back inside and threw you on the bed.

"Want to do a job, kid?" Frido asked you, and you quickly nodded. "Go get us some ice; you know where it's at?"

"Frido, it's too late for her to be going out." "She'll be fine; she has too much energy; she needs to do some exercise to get rid of it, so why don't you sprint while doing this, I'll time you." You loved competitions.

————

"Go!" Frido yelled, holding the door open for you as you sprinted out of the room and down to the elevator.

You went to the floor below, where the ice was, and sprinted out of the elevator.

While you filled your bucket, you got an idea. You could fulfill your ding-dong ditching plan. As always, Patri was your target.

You knew Patri and Ona got put together because last time Patri and Pina shared a room, Pina broke the TV trying to throw a football at you for being annoying. You admit, you were being annoying, but throwing a ball at you while you were standing in front of the TV was a bad idea on her part.

————

You quickly banged on there and ran away to the elevator again. After a couple of seconds, you heard the door opening. "Hello?" Patri asked, you couldn't contain your laughter.

"Y/N, I swear," she said, knowing your laugh. She sighed and went back inside, refusing to give you attention. Not enjoying that fact, you decided to do it again.

It was a terrible idea; Patri was waiting for you. She quickly swung the door open and tackled you.

"Alexia!" You yelled, knowing she was probably up and doing her nighttime routine. Patri continued her attack and started tickling your sides. "Helppp!" You yelled, giggling.

Ona came out of the room confused, rubbing her eyes tiredly and watching Patri attack you while you giggled and yelled for Alexia.

————

When Alexia stepped out, the waterworks came. "Mierda," Patri muttered, seeing the tears in your eyes.

"What is going on?!" Alexia shouted. It was late; practically the whole team on the bottom floor was up and out of their rooms now. They were all pretty cranky over the fact that they were woken up.

"I just wanted ice," you cried, pointing to your bucket of ice that was on the ground. Alexia looked at Patri with a questioning look.

"She's a demon! She ding dong ditched us," Patri defended herself. Irene let out an annoyed sigh and told everyone to go back into their rooms.

"Ona?" You turned to Ona, who was just as confused as her. "I didn't hear anything," she shrugged and went back into the room to sleep. Patri had a look of disbelief, finally getting off of you.

"But-" "That's enough, Patri; apologize and give her a new bucket of ice, and you," she turned to you. Mapi quickly stuck her head out the door to watch you get your scolding next.

"Bed, it's way past your bedtime," you rolled your eyes. "I'm practically an adult." "Don't act like it," you glared at Mapi. “Okay, I’ll go to bed, cuddle with Ingrid, and have her read me a bedtime story, something you can’t do.” Before Mapi could say something back, Alexia dragged her back into the room and slammed the door.

————

Patri shoved your new bucket of ice into your hands and stormed off. "Goodnight," you called out; all you got was a middle finger.

"Alexia!"

#woso x reader #woso #barcelona femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #mapi leon #alexia putellas #ingrid engen #fridolina rolfö #patri guijarro

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aothotties · 10 months ago

Text

Sneaky Link w/ Connie

Warnings: MDNI, jealousy, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, hickies, not proof read :)

Word Count: 1257

_______

Once Connie turned 18, he packed up and moved out of his parents home. He wasn’t forced to do it, he’s just always wanted to do his own thing.

He moved in with his boys, started a small business with them too, and even decided he really fucks with tattoos.

That is where he met you, his own personal tattoo artist. You’ve done all of his body art since he first started coming into your shop and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Deep down inside, he knew he had feelings for you when y’all first met, but Connie doesn’t “do” feelings.

Now Connie has never been afraid of anything, but when it comes to you, this man is fucking petrified. He’ll never show it, but you make his heart race like it never has before, of course he can’t tell you that though since he has an “image” to keep up.

Luckily, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. You can’t deny that he’s attractive, got a great personality and a dick that will fuck you into next week. It’s just that neither one of y’all know how to properly express your feelings.

One thing about Connie though, is that if he wants something he’s going to get it no matter what. He just has to figure out how to get you all to himself.

His original plan was to walk into the shop and just ask you out, something he’s never done before with anyone. That is until he steps in the shop and sees one of your other clients making you laugh as hard as he normally does. He can’t explain why, but a feeling of anger washes over him.

You and your client look towards the door, you give Connie your pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees and tell him you’ll be with him in a minute. He nods and goes to sit in your office, staring down the man you’re currently working with.

He tries to distract himself on his phone, but his attention is back on you when you laugh at something your client says. He rolls his eyes and thanks the gods above when you both walk towards the register.

“Alright, you can slide, insert, or tap your card right here.” You turn the Ipad around and wait for him to complete his payment.

You turn and give Connie a small wave, he returns the gesture and stands up from his seat and makes his way over to you.

“Perfect, is there anything else I can help you with?” You ask and he gives you a sweet smile.

“If you really want to make my night, you can come home with me.” He leans on the counter and waits for an answer from you.

At this point Connie is a few steps away from throwing this man through the front door. He stays silent and waits for your response.

You smile sweetly and place a hand on top of his, Connie rolls his eyes once again and crosses his arms over his chest.

“That’s really sweet, but I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.”

This time Connie’s eyes lock in on you as he takes your words into consideration. Has he been wrong about your feelings for him this entire time?

“Such a shame, a pretty girl like you should be tied down by now. Have a goodnight sweetheart.” The man kisses the back of your hand and finally exits the shop.

“Sorry that took so long, Antonio is a talker.” You apologize and lock the front doors once you’re sure nobody else is inside.

“Yeah I can see that.” He sits on the stool behind the register and pulls you in close to stand between his legs.

“How was your day?” You ask him, rubbing your hands along his broad shoulders.

“Fine, then I came to see my girl and it got better.” He responds and rubs his hands along the curves of your body.

“Ah I see, I’m your girl now?” You raise an eyebrow and look down at him.

He scoffs and leans back so he’s resting against the counter behind him.

“Shit, haven’t you always been?” He mindlessly shrugs his shoulders and this time you give him a chuckle.

“You’re funny Connie.” You remove yourself from his hold and walk to the office to count the change.

Connie watches you walk off and chuckles at your comment. He’s the funny one, yeah okay.

“Am I still funny now baby?” He asks you with a smirk on his face and his cock buried deep inside of you.

You let out a moan in response to his question and he pulls all the way out in return.

“Connie!” You exclaim, reaching for him as he backs away.

“I asked you a question, am I still funny to you?” He grunts, pushing all the way back into your aching cunt.

“Fuck! N-no, ‘m sorry papi.” You throw your head back and he takes that as an invitation to suck hickies on your skin.

You tighten around his dick when his lips make contact with your skin and he bites down on your neck.

“C-cumming! Please don’t stop!” You grab his arms tightly and arch your back off the desk as your orgasm courses through your body.

“There we go pretty girl, keep your eyes on me.” He leans down and presses his forehead against your own.

You let out a small gasp at the cool feeling of his necklace on your chest. He bites down on your bottom lip and slowly rolls his hips.

“You’re such a pretty girl, maybe I should be the one to tie you down, hm?” He takes your ear lobe between his teeth and bites down gently.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your nails dig into the skin on his back. You nod your head at his question and he smiles against your skin.

“Say you’re mine. I want to hear you say it.” He sits back and pushes your legs up to your chest.

He resumes the speed of his hips and you grab the sides of the desk below you.

“I-I’m yours!” You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a mantra of high pitched moans as he continues to bully your cunt.

“That’s a good girl, f-fuck you’re all mine.” His thrust gradually get rougher and tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

He completely folds you in half and pistons his hips in and out of you at a rapid pace, you scream into your hand as you gush around his cock.

Your mouth is wide open, yet no sound is able to come from it. Your toes curl as the shockwaves of your orgasm travel through your body.

“Awe poor thing, cats got your tongue?” He grabs your cheeks and smashes his lips against yours messily.

Your lips fall open as his pelvis grinds against your clit, he sucks on your bottom lip and chuckles.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me come baby!” He fucks into you a few more times before he pulls out and comes all over the tattoo on your lower abdomen.

“You okay sweetheart?” He grabs some napkins from your desk and begins to clean you up.

“Y-yeah most definitely.” You give a thumbs up and he plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You can tell Antonio you’ve been tied down.” He whispers in your ear and you roll your eyes at your boyfriend.

Ari

#aot smut #aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot x reader #aot imagines #connie x reader smut #connie x reader #connie x black reader

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court-jobi · 4 months ago

Text

Tuning Out, Tuning In

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters or this art))

Pairing: Bakugou x reader (biker!pro hero, some afab pronouns used)

Words: 5.1K

Rating: T+ (language, bc obviously)

Warnings: Pro-Hero Bakugo/Pro-Hero Reader, cursing as a love language, insecurities, arguing, use of hearing aids (not an expert!), light hurt/comfort, she falls first-he falls harder

Summary:

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. He's still not hearing you- because he can't. You check on your Katsuki after an unannounced leave of absence, only to discover the true reason why is the source of a mighty insecurity of his that he's expertly kept you out of the loop of till now. He's defensive and mean- uncharacteristically so, towards you when you find out. It's heart-wrenching when he realizes he's snapped at you, and gutting when you love him through it.

A/N: *Can be read as a follow-up in the 'Backpack Privileges' universe, but not necessarily a series. Just how I envision these babies evolving~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

News from the girls at the scheduling counter is that Dynamight was actually putting in PTO for the first time this calendar year.

Sure he’s worked hard, but when doesn’t he? It wasn't like he expended so much energy from his last rescue call that he was too tired or anything when you’d last seen him… so the time off request surprised you. Katsuki Bakugou never took time off, even when he’s congested to the point of sounding like a wounded seagull and hacking up a lung.

You called to check on him the first day he was out, but it went unanswered; he texted back instead that he was in the middle of eating and asked what you needed. You told him to rest up, and he proceeded to spam you with the same angry animal memes as always.

At the office, things were at a surprising lull by the end of the week, with Kirishima on your right on the sofa scrolling through some mods Hatsume had for him to review. Meanwhile, you took the rather unprofessional route and scrolled on your phone. Your retort to Kiri’s tutting over the bad habit was that you knew the higher ups were off with Jeanist at some press junket, and you could risk it. Called you a naughty thing, how Bakugou was rubbing off on you. You’re sure even at your hangriest you’re not that prickly.

An instinct, you try calling Bakugou again, this time on speakerphone. It’s been a whole workweek, after all. It rings twice, then straight to voicemail. You end the call before recording anything, and fuss at the phone in your hand.

“Ok, Kiri? This is weird.”

“Hm? What is?”

“He’s never answering,” you lock the phone habitually, “-and I mean never. No ‘hi’, no ‘whaddya want’; did he lose his voice or something?”

Kirishima finally breaks focus to look at you, questioning, “Bakubro?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t– not that I’m trying every day or anything, but it’s been almost a week of nothing and-”

-your phone dings: one new preview of a message from ‘Backpack’ lights your lockscreen, and your frustration ramps up to 60.

“-Then he freakin’ texts– like two seconds later!! What the actual hell is going on with him?!”

Kirishima just snorts.

“Maybe he’s taking a dump~”

“He would not text me on the toilet.”

“All men do it.”

“KIRI.” you swat his foot off the couch that’s laid out towards you, crossing yours while he cackles behind his ipad’s screen.

“Oh cmon, he’s fine! He’s just taking a breather~” Kirishima presses you with an assuring look you’re inclined to buy, because his delivery is just that sweet, “Doesn’t really take time off much anymore, so if he did, he probably needs it. Been doing a lot of those muscle contracts, which pays well! But it’s no joke how much it takes out of you– Kamui wants him, Rocklock wants him-”

You do worry about the workload Bakugou is under given all the names Kirishima rattles off, but your boy’s assured you it’s all part of his drive. That, and he says Bakugou’s saving up for something important for work, but doesn’t disclose more than that.

You don’t press when Bakugou puts up a wall– knowing full well he tells you things when he’s ready. Till now, he’s not given an indication that he doesn't distrust you with anything- not even his life. You have each other’s backs, and that’s an honor that you value and reciprocate. Perhaps it’s by that faith in one another that you should grant him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe one of these days under another starry sky from the back of your bike, he may share his whats and hows and whys to that sweet spot behind your ear, disguising his secrets with yet another kiss he saves for when you’re alone.

But this silence is really throwing you a curveball. Katsuki’s voice is just one of the many things you’ve come to adore about him. When you confessed that little thought to him, he turned a soft answer -a promise- that he’d answer when you called, day or night. It’s a gruff, punchy sound when you hear it over coms, or even through your shared helmets; but it’s also rumbling, constant, soothing when you hear it fitted against your ear.

You never thought you’d even miss Dynamight’s passive aggressive screaming so much– until you don’t have any echo of him in your head at all.

“-or yknow if it’s not his schedule, it’s his body that’s about to quit on him. He’s probably giving his ears a break, if I had to guess!”

“...His ears.”

Kirishima looks up at you again, like his point was obvious, “Yeah. He can’t wear ‘em all the time– they’ve gotta charge, and if he’s sweat them out of their normal place, they pinch-”

Realization forces you to sit up straight, “Katsuki wears hearing aids?”

“Well he has to, with his quirk!” Kirishima tickled himself explaining so, “Kats probably blew out his inner ear in middle school, and it’s only gotten worse the harder he’s trained. He got fitted for new ones sometime last winter which he says are more comfortable than the last ones, but I dunno-” Kirishima cracked his neck in a roll, “I think he keeps' em in too long; and they drive him batty after a while.”

You didn’t like the sound of that.

Down at your phone, you read the text message fully:

Backpack: Knee deep in dishes. What’s up pretty girl.

You decide to answer,

//Waiting on a call for a pickup, just keeping the couch warm~ Up for a call real quick?

‘Backpack’ takes a minute this time. You reason maybe he’s using speech to text given the perfect grammar.

Backpack: Can’t right now.

// Podcast instead? ((eyes emoji))

Backpack: Pass.

//Kiri misses you… ((sad eyes))

Backpack: No he fucking doesn’t.

Backpack: Throw him a bone or try some fetch, he’ll be fine.

You don’t even laugh at the image with how much he’s deflecting talking to you. Laying back, your concern must be palpable because Kiri nudges you with his foot, and you stare at its buckles; anything from looking at his face.

“He never turns down food.”

“What d’you mean.”

“I mean, he’ll need to eat~” Kirishima’s never ending support coats his words. “-and I’d be shocked if he’d turn his Darling DoorDasher down.”

You snorted, “Hush, you.”

Kirishima knew full well about you two- he’s not blind. He knows about dates one, two, well- every date, whether from Bakubro's lips or your own. But while it doesn’t feel new and raw… it feels tender and personal, what you share with your hero off the field– and you don’t want the bubble to burst between you and Katsuki. Not just yet.

-which is why, despite your firm concern deep in your gut reminding you of your plans throughout your shift, you are nervous for your first time going to his apartment, unannounced.

You knock four times, then back away to the near side of the door so it doesn’t hit you when it opens. A lull of ‘nothing’ hung in the air..

You reconsidered, suspicion making you bite your cheek: what if he can’t hear you?

You knock four more times, a bit louder. You’re cringing as you come back to your lean. Shuffling, you do indeed look like a food delivery service- an insistent-looking one, to the couple passing by on the ground floor who look up at you and likely wonder why you don’t just call this a ‘contactless delivery’ and jog on..

“Cmon, Kats…” you bemoan before steeling your nerves. You try just three more times, channeling your inner ‘Dynamight’ yourself and banging at a level that would take it off its hinges before cringing away to your waiting spot.

Bakugou’s neighbor pops his head out of the door opposite you this time– nailing you with a reproachful look. Apologies mouthed, you smile demurely as the sound of a very aware Bakugou approaches now.

“I’M COMING, DAMMIT!”

The neighbor -perhaps wisely- shuts his door as he hears the door about to be unlocked. The way his eyebrows fly up, you infer that he does little to ever cross his hotheaded neighbor.

“ALRIGHT ALREADY- WHAT?!”

He's gorgeous, still. Pissy and caught off his guard, and donned headphones around his neck. But Bakugou double-takes to you with a frozen mouth, watching you push off the siding seemingly unaffected by his outburst and smiling casually.

“Hiya~”

His jaw flexes, but he forces his snarl away. Clearly conflicted at your presence, he pinched his brow.

"Said you were workin’ today. What’re you doing."

"I was in the neighborhood. Brought you a bowl~" you bribed the man's heart with the top way you knew how: a white and red ‘thank you’-covered baggie with the jackpot inside..

He likes kamameshi so he doesn’t hafta chew a ton. If his ear n’ jaw are tired, the softer the better. You can't go wrong with a nice bowl o’comfort… Not like it’d last long with that guy’s appetite on a good day, anyways! Hah!

Hardly one to refuse you (just as Kirishima lovingly predicted), Bakugou stepped aside to let you in, granting you a gentle stroke on your back as you passed him..

Inside, you trade giving him the bag with his offering of your choice in houseshoes. On the far side of the room, the TV is on, including a scroll of subtitles. You look about and the place is spotless- he wasn’t lying about the rage cleaning.

"In the neighborhood, huh?" Bakugou called to you, dishing out the box of takeout while watching you get settled in.

You already said so, but made sure to face him as you speak- eyes all on you. You think that making a sweet delivery is reason enough for your presence here,

"Yeah~ the office drew a short straw on the menu this week, so I’ve been eating out more~ still don’t know how you can mess up potatoes, but sure enough, Feefee’s found a way~" you smile, coming up to his side with a little lilt in your step.

-but Bakugou just drones back,

"Overdue on our lunches, aren’t we sweets. We'll go do something this weekend."

Oh boy. You’re really bad off. A diss at the agency kitchen staff would never go unnoticed by the resident lunch snob, you think to yourself. You may not have lightning fast quips like Kaminari, but c'mon, that was a little funny…

Any other time that Bakugou would willingly suggest a date would thrill you. Maybe he’s even aware that he’s been avoiding you, and is trying to make up for it by suggesting a couple places offhand. But knowing the real reason behind the aversion, it doesn’t warm you the way it always does.

His answer was typical and wasn't really related to what you asked at all, so you watch him take some bites and try again.

You trailed over to his dining kitchenette, taking a seat before him, tone lovely and appropriate for the distance between you.

“You should have seen Kiri’s attempt to make my coffee order. Almost put a pump of salmon oil in instead of simple syrup! But hey, that just means job security for you, yeah? You’re so much better at it.”

You make eyes at the tv behind you as you speak- a test.

He catches your intentional look, but he twists in his seat to glance. Then, focuses back on you and not making a mess of his dish, “Yeah, you can change it if you want.”

So he's got context clues down. Smart, but not convincing enough. Still not hearing.

You try once more, sass tinting your voice as if you were teasing him privately.

"We adopted a purple hippo as an office pet~"

"Mhm," Bakugou picked up on the attitude, pausing and coming to your side with a bit of a swagger he hopes looks natural, "Sure been a crazy week. Missed a lot. We’ll get back to normal soon, yeah? Cmon, let's go watch somethin’."

Your hands fall to your thighs in a resigned slap. Sighing, you look to him desperately, urging him with more enunciation.

"This is bad, Katsuki."

"What's so bad." Bakugou reads your lips and deflects.

You tap your ear with a sympathetic look.

– his demeanor changes. Horribly.

Bakugou steps away in almost disbelief, edgy and firm: a rolling boil starts to simmer behind his eyes. Turning aside, he huffs. Guilty.

He turns tail to the kitchen, cursing under his breath to ‘give him a second.’ Bakugou pushes his stacks of cleaned dishes aside, making a clash of noise even you flinch at. It’s evident the sound doesn’t phase him.

"No, you don't have to put them-"

"I can't fucking HEAR YOU, woman; give me a DAMN SECOND!!"

Coming around the island after him, you see he’s trying to get at the charging dock on the backside of his butcher block.

Watching him fiddle with just his right ear, he turns back and faces you prickly as ever, with arms crossed and barely attempting to rein in his anger.

You are sure now you've struck a nerve if he's acting like this around you. You tread carefully,

"I'm not here to just yap your head off, or commandeer your days off. I… was just concerned."

"About what? I'm fine."

"It's been five days,” you stress gently, “you didn't think I would think it’s weird if you didn’t answer once?"

"I answered you back every time," Bakugou raised his voice a tick, "Every text– never left you on read, cuz I know that feels shitty!"

"I know you did," you give him credit, "But it's– different when we talk, and you know that difference. It's just that you always call back. It just hasn’t felt normal -for you- is all. And I didn’t know there was going to be a reason like this that’s why."

"Well it's not like I could hear the phone ring anyway, so fuck me for that. How the hell’d you find out anyway."

"...I didn't know until Kirishima said something. I was telling him I-"

"Of course it fucking was,” Bakugou huffed again, “Well, it's none of his business, it’s not his problem, and he should kept his DAMN mouth shut."

To trash Kirishima like this -hotheaded and bitter- definitely feels more like an attack than he'd ever mean on a good day. Kiri is his best friend, and clearly close enough to have been there at the first fitting and have a picture perfect memory of it because it mattered so much to his buddy to be there for him. To not let it define him.

You can't pretend to know how sensitive of a subject this is, based on how confident Bakugou is with everything in life: even the litany of scars he wears outlining his hero work aren't off limits to discussion. But his answers come armed with cached ammo and heat.

You certainly don't think yourself entitled to everything about him, but you see now that he clearly hadn’t planned to tell you about his wearing hearing aids, or at least hadn’t intended for you find out this way… so someone had to take the brunt of his ire. You think to be grateful he doesn’t appear ready to snap at you, but you feel so much on the outside, it hurts to watch him sizzle.

You try to take the pressure off the leak of the news, "Where's this coming from, hon?"

Bakugou grunts, looking back to you with a raised brow.

You gestured between you just to talk with your hands a little, "Where is this coming-"

"HELL IF I KNOW!” Bakugou shouts back, “It just IS. I just wanted- it-- Look, just fuckin’ drop it, ok? I will. be back. tomorrow. And everything’ll be like it was before you knew a damn thing, ALRIGHT??"

He's defensive and mean now; the pitch he never aimed at you before now entered the ring.

This was a line you were damned sure not to let any man cross.

"Ok, we're gonna try that again,” you spoke plain as day.

"Try WHAT again??"

"Discussing, not fighting." You stood firm at his counter. You will not be taking up a screaming match under any circumstances, and have to make that clear. "Coming up with an answer -together- because that's what we do when our backs are up against the wall... Not bite the hand that's trying to help. ‘Hit the problem, not the player’."

The words resonate with Bakugou, having been the one who shot that reminder to you not a week ago from his own mouth, and everything in that face full of fire wants to rear back–

"-and before you say ANYTHING else... You will. not. talk to me like that."

You hear the hero’s palms sizzle, and see by the look of hatred he glares at them with that he clearly hates the feel.

Bakugou lets out a growl then goes silent, obeying. He takes a little pace around, finally settling at the tall, bar-height stool, rubs his palms compulsively at his thighs as a reset, and pulls at his head until it lays dejected in those explosive hands propped up on his knees.

Your invitation to stand by him opens when he lifts his head and scowls behind tented fingers. Kindly, you make sure to stand closer to his right to give him the best chance of catching your words.

"Y'know I'm the last one who's ever gonna give you a hard time for this, don’t you?"

Bakugou doesn't answer, but you know he's listening.

"It's hard for me to take time off work too, I don't do it as much as I should. I know it's hard to leave work at work, and you did that on your own, in order to take care of yourself. You know your limits and that’s keeping you alive. That was really wise."

You see a little bob of the head by the slight jostle of his hair.

What bothers you here and now isn’t just selfish thoughts of ‘why didn’t he tell me’, but ‘why didn’t he tell anyone’? It’s clear by what you’ve learned that next to no one knows of his condition. That small aspect of this gives you a little comfort, but opens up a bigger dose of worry. Hearing impairment might be perceived by a bystander as a defect or weakness, but for the old friends and medical experts who surely surround him, you’d feel confident in Bakugou’s care to know he’d surely not think of himself that way.

Surely not… surely not?

“But the thing is, if it's coming down to you hurting and needing help- or just, getting time away if that's what you really want, I can totally get that. But between you and I? We've gotta figure out how you really feel about this, because it’s eating at you. Affects everything you do at some point, right? Can't have you working yourself to the bone here, overworking your senses out there, feeling like you can’t speak for days on end, setting things off, either. Even accidentally."

You swipe along his shoulder and arm sweetly, just for a little connection.

“I… I really do care about you, Katsuki. I don't want you to feel you have to manage it all on your own. I want to be someone you can have in your back pocket for help- even with something like this.”

A ‘ride or die’ offer if there ever was one.

Bakugou looks in the direction of your hand. The smooth, unscarred hand you sport is so different from his own. Proof of the softness he lost a long time ago, his sunken eyes tell you. He blinks, and it’s a pensive, sad sight.

"M'sorry."

The hoarseness in that proud voice fell hollow.

To anyone else, it may sound apathetic and half-assed, but Bakugou held so much ‘punch’ in his daily speech that you realized this apology featured the even breath of emotion. Restraint. His control. His gentleness.

“You can't help how your body works, Kats. You don't have to apologize for what's happening naturally. This is... just a side effect, unfortunately.”

“T’snot that,” he said limply.

A second attempt to finish for him, you try again studying the takeout boxes left open. “I.. get you not telling me, too. It’s not my business either.”

Bakugou shakes his head, with a dismissive jerk of the head altogether. Instead he lifts up, miserably.

"I don't talk to you that way."

Through a brief silent showdown, you accept his apology. As rough as he is even with his own mother, Bakugou has framed a different ring for you two to dance in, and harshness doesn’t belong in it.

"You don’t,” the agreement is established, “that's how I knew something's out of whack. Plus, I mean.. if you can’t pick up background noise, it must be hard trying to match volume in a space, right?"

Bakugou’s hoarseness fails him, falling to which air, "That's a shit poor excuse. You were right. I know the difference."

Meekly reaching for hip, the man sniffles: pulling you the rest of the way between his bent legs.

You step in and he crumbles into your core, strong hands encircling your hips.

"I'm sorry," he swears.

"It's ok..."

Bakugou squeezes you in, "It's not. Ok. You should have slapped me for that shit.”

“I’m not doing that, either,” you get weary hearing how the guys rough each other up. You’re certainly not applying the same tactics to him of all people.

“Well, it’s inexcusable. I respect you more than to do that. Know better.”

"I forgive you, then."

"You shouldn't, so easily.”

Chin jutted on his still-bowed head, your answer comes simply but openly:

"...That's commonly called love, Katsuki. I love you. That’s what I do."

He's silent and frozen. The only sign of life is that he is -in fact- breathing still.

You said these, the magic words, in record time for anyone you've held affection for... and you didn't care. You loved Katsuki. Loved all of him. Even the prickly bits that threatened to square up at you like a bull.

Friendship was an surprisingly easy test for you two.

Partnership, battle-proven in the public sphere.

But this is the final straw that you’ve been keeping safe and special. Telling Katsuki you loved him would push things to a deeper level than you felt the term ‘boyfriend’ afforded you both at thirty years old. In loving him, and no one else, you just wanted to call him ‘yours’ already and be done with searching for the One.

Since he doesn’t speak, you busy yourself elsewhere. He may not answer nearly as quickly as you given how on-the-spot he mulls in currently… but he hasn’t let go of you, which is a good sign. Good enough for you.

Your mind veers a bit in the quiet. You think to yourself about what feels nicest when you've had your helmet on too long; athletes deal with it, racers deal with it.. Anyone who wears a support item with internal padding giving cushion around the head is bound to force unnatural pressure on every angle for the sake of protection.

On you, this tension lies just behind the ears.

To soothe it, you’d usually draw a sun: a half circle design, zigzagging up and down with your fingertips, creating lines of relief along the tender sides of your head. It's to help the blood flow, and the scratches crackle nicely to the ear canal. Acts as white noise to the senses which is often a welcome change to the low thrum of a headache or grating road noise.

So with careful fingers, a mind set on comfort and a heartful of soft love for this man, you draw twin suns deep within Katsuki's hair.

…within seconds, he wept.

Bakugou softly cries and he holds you close. He turns in his seat, pulling you to fit even tighter between his knees with no gap of room between you.

When he can regulate his breaths down to calm blows from his lips, he shares more what's on his mind, down the space between you.

"...that feels really good."

"I hoped so~. So your head bothers you too, after a while. Having them in all the time?"

He turns his head finally to rest on one side, the functionally deaf side leaning into your chest... listening out for a heartbeat it seems.

“N’it’s all inside, so it’s hard to touch it unless I pump myself full of horsepills… makes m’stomach hurt."

From head to toe, he’s being honest about what this means for him. "The thing that’s meant to help, hurts? I’m sorry, hon."

He's still swallowing back his emotions, so you don't press for what he wants to say when it's clear he's focused on getting good rhythm back.

"My arm gets numb sometimes, too."

You're surprised at this, as more pieces fit together you didn’t know were necessarily missing, "-Yeah?"

"It's somethin' in the tendons. Can fight fine, but small moves are weird. I can't pick up a fucking piece of paper right. N'holding my phone hurts some days."

With a kiss to his hair, you see the teed-up ‘in’ to make him laugh,

"Well, who're you gonna be texting anyway, now that I won't be blowing up your phone?"

He tuffs. Joking aside, you hugged you close. “Gotta to back to that dumbass doctor, don't I."

"They can check your nerve endings with a scan. See if there's a reason for it."

Bakugou accepts this and continues his baring of his heart. He mentions old pains, some new ones, even some random details about which oscillating fans he likes on or off because of how warm he runs. Some of it relates to his work, some not, but you take it all in. Each little snippet he offers up reminds you of penguin pebbling.

Satisfaction rang through you with the news that caused the biggest physical response in him: he confessed after all that he hadn’t wanted to ignore you at all, and it shows.

His hands massage at you– never getting enough.

“V’missed your voice too,” Bakugou’s voice finally seeps back in- that low, growly rumble of the chest you wanted to play on loop, “But I know I needed that break. I wanted 'em out, just for a little while. Even if I didn’t want to miss the good that comes from keepin’ em in.”

“That’s fine to want. Anytime you need.”

Bakugou turns exploratory with his hand. With the one not locked around your waist keeping you to him, he gives long scritches across your back, up front to hold your side- rooting him.

“N’for the record, not everyone knows. It’s probably in a record somewhere, so it’s not really been taboo or anything. No one’s ever banned me from fighting; not yet at least. It’s not a secret. But… s’been so long, I’ve… never had to explain them to anyone. Sure as shit don't tell the public.”

Tender fingers seek out the soft inner side of your wrist, just a small touch.

“But you…I didn’t know how to open that up. Seems like a random ass thing to drop on you.”

You understand, and think it sweet that he at least had contemplated telling you at some point– but now, you could only look to his future and knew this would only help you moving forward.

"Nothing’s random if it’s important to you. So head scratches are a yes. Fast food is a yes, keeps you out of the stores. Anything else I should keep in mind to help?"

Bakugou thinks, but just holds onto you with a little nuzzle, "Not now. Yer doin’ it."

Happy and soft, you smile, "Okey~"

After a minute, he's matched your breathing, and you only move when he lifts his head to chin up at you from his spot. You smile expectantly seeing him less harsh around the edges and looking at you on the softer side of pitiful. Like he's looking to you for the solution-- neck bared and showing a rare vulnerability.

"You're my hero, Kats," you dote on him. Hands through his hair, scritching at the base, "y'know that right?"

"Damn right."

"And you aren't anywhere near throwing in the towel over this."

His smirk returned, "Damn right."

Bakugou’s neck received more soothing treatment again– making his eyes flutter,

"Because my Lord Explosion has way too many baddies left to murder before he allows anyone get to his getaway driver, right?"

Finally showing signs of his spark back, Bakugou growls his pleasure.

"Y'talking about murder does things to a man, baby."

"Thought it might... I mean every word though. You take such good care of me, Kats. Let me do the same for you sometimes, ok?"

"... Yeah alright," he finally caves easily with tepid palms smoothing over the back of your thighs. Still keeping you close, forehead falling to rest against you, you feel finally content that your presence has helped him.

All your one-sided concerns now settled, you feel glad that your update to Kirishima later will share that Bakugou’s okay– and will likely add in a fair heads-up that he might still be pissy with him come Monday.

After some cursory scratches across his shoulders, you remember to hold out a hand by his eye level. Bakugou hums when he notices it, and raises his hand to hold yours-- only for you to dodge it, and keep it open.

Let me have it, silly.

After checking ‘what on earth you were getting at’, he tilts to see your fingers open again. The blond head of hair at your chest sighs, decides, then takes the lone hearing aid out and returns it into your open palm. With careful depositing, you set it on the counter behind you with the note-to-self to put it back with its mate– and return your hands to yours.

Bakugou centered himself by breathing you in. Once he had you snug in his arms again, he pressed a firm kiss through your shirt, hoping you felt everything he couldn’t say behind a tight throat.

You thought it silly, but with him resting fairly tame right on your chest, you thought you'd try a little enrichment for him:

That stupid song from the pop-up takeaway truck was still stuck in your head, so you started humming it to him.

With how high you stood above him doling out scritches to his temple, you missed how his eyes opened for a flash in recognition of today’s current brainrot love ballad; but you didn't miss how he pressed in closer to you and really listened.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha

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formulauno98 · 4 months ago

Text

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Eleven / Chalet Girl Winter - Friday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 8.7k - Yes I got over my writers block and wrote a triple length chapter. I previously promised one final chapter but I've had to split it up so there will be fourteen chapters in total.

Warnings: 🌶 Some very PG mild spice but 18+ only.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

FRIDAY AFTERNOON

You and Toto arrived at his chalet just as the late afternoon sun was dipping behind the peaks of the Austrian mountains, casting your surroundings in a soft, golden glow. Guests were due to arrive that evening so ever the proud host, Toto had insisted on arriving a few hours ahead to ensure the chalet was up to his exacting standards.

After a short flight, the drive from the airport had been quiet, with Toto’s driver quickly navigating the sweeping snowy roads whilst Toto sat beside you in the backseat, engrossed in answering emails on his iPad and occasionally glancing across at you, covering your hand with his.

You had spent the journey from the airport in silence, wrapped in thoughts of the past few months and how quickly things had changed. You’d gone from a troubled relationship with George to something entirely different with Toto and life felt much easier, albeit surreal. Toto was like a breath of fresh air. Considering he was much busier than George, he listened to you, valued your opinions and remembered the small details. You finally felt like your own person again.

– – –

“Wow,” you exclaimed as you stepped out of the car, the sting of cold mountain air hitting your face as you stretched your legs. Toto had undersold you his chalet, it was enormous, a wide expanse of rustic wood and sparkling glass, perfectly nestled in a small valley in the heart of the mountains, set back from the road.

“You like it?�� said Toto, coming to your side and taking your hand in his as you took in your grand surroundings.

“Well I’ll reserve judgment until I get the full tour, but on first impressions, yes it’s beautiful,” you said, stretching up to kiss him on the cheek.

Toto smiled and led you towards the heavy wooden front door, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” Turning back towards his driver, he added, “I’ll come back for the bags.”

The door creaked open easily and you were immediately greeted by a wave of warmth and the scent of fresh pine and woodsmoke. Toto squeezed your hand gently. “Welcome to my favourite place in the world.”

“I think I can see why,” you replied, marvelling at Toto’s mountain home. Having so far spent the majority of your time together in London, you hadn’t yet been to any of Toto’s houses and you were looking forward to having a good look around. The foyer was breathtaking, intricate wooden beams arched overhead, an impressive staircase wound upwards to the galleried landing on the second floor and large windows framed the snow-covered peaks outside. It was picture-perfect, almost like something out of a movie.

“I’ll show you around in a minute,” Toto said, before stepping forward to greet an older man and woman who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, introducing them as Greta, his House Manager, and Claus, his Chef. You blushed furiously as he introduced you as his girlfriend. It wasn’t a conversation you’d had yet but it was comforting to know that he was serious about your relationship and wasn’t afraid to tell people.

“Lovely to meet you too,” said Greta, eyeing you curiously, “Here, let me take your coats. Toto, do you need me to send someone for the bags?”

“Thank you Greta but that will be okay. I will bring them,” said Toto as he passed both of your coats to her. He turned back to you, “Why don’t you look around while I get our things?”

You nodded, still overwhelmed by the grandeur of the place and the way Toto had introduced you. As he headed back outside, Greta and Claus busied themselves, leaving you alone in the spacious foyer. You were immediately drawn to a console table across from you, laden with elegantly framed photos. Picking up a small silver frame you smiled as you clocked a photograph of Toto and the woman who had caused your first quarrel - his sister. They looked to be in their late teens, smiling and laughing at the camera with identical dimpled grins. In hindsight you felt stupid, the family resemblance was strong.

“Found something interesting? Toto said, having reappeared behind you, carrying your bags inside with ease.

“Just a little.” you said, placing the frame back down from where you’d taken it, “It’s nice, you have more photos here than on the yacht.”

“Well, it’s the family home. They all come here for the holidays,” said Toto, placing the bags down gently at the foot of the stairs before stepping closer to you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back. “Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

He led you through the spacious living room, where yet more floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the valley below. As the afternoon sun waned, soft light from the large stone fireplace cast a golden glow across the room. It was cosy as hell and you could already imagine spending the evening here, curled up on one of the large cream sofas with a glass of wine and a book.

“This is the heart of the house,” Toto explained, gesturing to the living room. “We designed it to be a place where everyone can gather and relax.”

“I love it,” you said, clocking the carefully chosen details, the thick sheepskin rugs and the luxe throws draped over the sofas. It was certainly very Alpine. “When you say we…?”

Toto smiled, admitting “My interior designer and I. I know what I like but have no idea how to find it.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” you said laughing, “You’re a busy man!”

Toto’s eyes twinkled as he pulled you from behind into his chest, bending down to whisper in your ear, his voice low, “Is that so?”

Turning around to face him, you stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips, “Far too busy to select cushions.”

“I know my favourite cushions,” said Toto, his expression deadpan before he reached his arms behind you to lightly squeeze your ass, making you squeal.

“Ahem.” came a voice from a doorway on the other side of the room, interrupting the moment. It was Greta.

“Sorry Greta,” said Toto, his mouth quirking with a smirk, “I was just giving a house tour.”

“Sorry to interrupt but Andreas wanted to know where the bags need to go,” said Greta, blushing as she couldn’t quite meet Toto’s eye.

“In the master suite.” said Toto, “Sorry I should have instructed him.”

“No worries, I will let him know.” said Greta with a polite smile, turning to leave before suddenly turning back, “Can I get you anything? A drink? A snack? Claus is preparing the evening service but it is long to wait until then.”

Toto turned to you, his eyes kind as he clocked that you were not used to having staff. “Would you like anything?”

It was your turn to blush as you felt like a spoilt brat, “Oh no, I’m fine thank you, maybe I can come and grab a tea later?”

“Sure,” said Toto and Greta in unison, exchanging a somewhat strange look. “I will show the kitchen on my tour, Greta.”

“Very well,” said Greta, ducking out of the doorway and leaving you alone once more.

“Sorry about that, I know you think I am an idiot for having staff but as we don’t use this house often it is better to have them to keep things running,” said Toto, looking a little embarrassed.

“Not at all.” you said, before adding, “Well… I’m not used to it. I know you had the crew on the boat but that feels different because you need them to sail. I can always get my own drinks.”

“I know.” said Toto, “I’ll have a word with Greta.”

“Thanks,” you said, stretching up to kiss him once more.

He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Come, there’s more to see.”

As promised, he led you to the kitchen next, a modern space with light wood cabinetry, sleek appliances and a large island at its centre. Claus was busy expertly chopping vegetables as Toto caught his attention.

“What’s on the menu?” he asked, smiling at the older man.

“The usual.” said the older man, smiling before gesturing to a large pot simmering away, “And Greta has made Glühwein.”

“What’s that?” you asked, unaccustomed to Austrian cuisine.

“Mulled wine.” said Toto, pulling you towards the stove before lifting the lid, “Here, smell it.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, turning to Claus since it was clear that he was the voice of authority in this kitchen. He nodded approvingly so you bent down to take in the aromatic mix of cinnamon and spices. “It smells like Christmas!” you exclaimed.

The two men laughed at your enthusiasm. “You will love it,” said Toto.

“Looking forward to trying it,” you said to Claus.

“Oh, it is not me who makes it, it is my wife,” Claus said, beaming.

“Claus and Greta are married.” explained Toto, as he clocked your look of confusion, “It makes sense since they live here together.”

“I see,” you said, “Is this common in chalets?”

“No, I just lucked out,” said Toto smiling at Claus.

“I think you’ll find we are the lucky ones,” the older man replied, “Now, please young man, leave me alone so I can carry on getting this food ready for the guests.”

Toto laughed at the man trying to shoo you out, “Okay but we will be back for tea.”

Claus shook his head before returning to chopping, adding sarcastically, “I can’t wait.”

“He seems fun,” you said as Toto guided you along another hallway off to the other side of the kitchen.

“They are both great fun, and Andreas.” he replied, “You’ll see tonight.”

“Without sounding like an idiot, is that normal for staff?” you asked, not sure of the etiquette.

“Not exactly.” said Toto, “But they’re more like family than staff. You’ll see.”

He then led you down a hallway, pointing out various rooms; there was a well-appointed dining room, complete with a grand piano, a den filled with books and games and a traditional sauna for unwinding after a day on the slopes. He then led you up a smaller wooden staircase at the end of the hallway, bringing you onto the far end of the galleried landing you’d seen from the foyer.

“Ooh secret stairs,” you said, following Toto along the landing.

“Not so secret but quicker to get to our room,” he said, stopping at a set of grand wooden double doors. He opened them dramatically to reveal the master suite. The bedroom was expansive, with another large stone fireplace at one end and wall-to-wall glass doors that opened out onto a veranda on the other.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” he said, his voice dropping slightly as he turned to you, eager to see your verdict.

You stepped into the room, admiring the luxurious furnishings and the spectacular view. The bed was cloud-like and you couldn’t wait to dive in later, “I think I will survive.”

Toto burst into laughter, “I’m glad to hear it. Although I will warn you, it gets cold here at night. We might need to cuddle up.”

“Oh really?” you asked, moving closer to Toto, liking where this was going.

“One hundred percent,” he said, leaning in to catch your lips with his, his large hands resting on your hips, spanning your waist.

“Do you offer this service to all of your guests?” you asked, with a smirk.

“Only my favourites,” he said before gripping your hips tighter and throwing you down onto the bed.

“Heyy!” you said, in surprise, giggling as he lay down on top of you, pressing kisses behind your ear, his hands starting to roam.

You blushed as Toto’s kisses grew more playful and he started to nip at your collarbone, gradually dipping lower. “I think I could get used to this,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair as he trailed kisses down your neck.

Toto lifted his head, his eyes dark with affection as he looked down at you. “I hope you do.”

“Toto…” you whispered, his gaze was intense, full of a desire that made your heart race.

“Yes?” he murmured, his voice husky.

You bit your lip, trying to think of something to reply but the words got lost as you lost yourself in his eyes. Instead, you pulled him back down to you, kissing him deeply. Toto responded eagerly, his hands moving to the hem of your sweater, lifting it just enough to slip his hands underneath.

Things were just starting to heat up when you were suddenly interrupted by your phone ringing loudly from your bag across the room. You froze for a second and then Toto sighed, resting his forehead against yours.

“You should probably get that,” he said, his eyes saying otherwise.

“Or I could ignore it,” you suggested, trying to pull him back down, but he shook his head, a smirk on his lips.

“It could be important,” he countered, giving you a quick peck before rolling off the bed and letting you up.

You groaned, got up and made your way over to your bag. The ringing stopped but the unmistakable chime of a message rang out. You reached for your phone and unlocked it, glancing at the screen, it was a message from Cara.

We’re 15 minutes away. Hope you two lovebirds aren’t getting up to too much trouble without us ;)

You couldn’t help but laugh as you sat back down on the bed and showed Toto the message. He chuckled, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Great timing, as always.”

You smiled and started to fix your sweater, smoothing it out as you replied.

Trying my best but Toto is persistent. Can’t wait to see you x

“I guess that’s our cue to get ready for the others,” you said, slipping off the bed and heading toward the bathroom to check your appearance.

Toto watched you, clearly enjoying the sight of you walking away. “You look perfect,” he called after you.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr Wolff,” you teased, glancing at him over your shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

– – –

When you returned, Toto had opened up the glass doors and was stood out on the veranda, leaning up against the wooden balustrade, looking out into the darkness. The sun had fully set and the first stars were beginning to twinkle in the clear sky. You were hit with a strange feeling of deja vu as you were fondly reminded of the first time Toto had spoken to you properly, up on the sun deck of his yacht on a similar starry night.

He turned as he heard you approaching, “They’ll be here any minute now,” he said, his thumb gently reaching out and stroking the back of your hand as you joined him.

You nodded, leaning into him as you both gazed out at the night sky. “I’m glad we came here early,” you said softly. “It’s been nice, just us.”

Toto squeezed your hand, his voice warm, “Me too, but we’ll have plenty more time just for us.”

Your eyes lit up at the prospect of more travel with Toto, “I hope so.” you said, letting him sway you gently from behind. You stayed there in blissful silence for a moment before it was interrupted by the sound of cars making their way up the drive. Toto murmured from behind you, “Sounds like we have company.”

You turned and smiled up at him, brushing an errant strand of hair off his forehead. “I suppose you should go and greet them.”

“I suppose, but you are coming down with me” he replied, leaning down to steal one last kiss before you both made your way back inside.

“Are you sure?” you said, gently closing the door behind you, “It’s your house.”

“If you are fine with it?” he said, looking unsure of himself.

“Sure,” you said quietly, a little apprehensive to greet the group, some of whom you had not seen in person since the fateful yacht trip.

“You don’t sound so sure.” said Toto, raising his eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if it’s my place,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“That is bullshit.” said Toto, matter of factly, “Is it because of what happened before?”

Feeling your flushed face betray you, you looked at him, “Well yes. I don’t want them to think badly of me. I haven’t seen James, John or Marion since the yacht and God only knows what George is going to say if he sees me swanning down those stairs like I own your house.”

Toto’s expression softened, “If they think badly of you, I have the number of a nice hotel down the road.”

You laughed, Toto was stubborn as ever, “You know what I mean.”

Drawing you back in close, Toto rubbed your shoulders, “I’m here and I’m not going to let anyone say anything. I want you to feel at home here. Besides, James and Cara know the situation, John and Marion likely guessed and George, well George has his friends and is bringing someone so he cannot be too angry with us.”

Raising a small smile, you leaned into the tall Austrian’s chest, breathing deeply. Toto had some kind of magical power to immediately make you feel at ease. “Thank you,” you replied, looking up at him.

“No, thank you for coming, you’ve made me a very happy man,” he said, pressing one last kiss to your forehead before taking your hand and leading you out of the bedroom. Attentive as ever, he clocked you eyeing up your luggage, “We can unpack a little later.”

“You already know me too well,” you said, shaking your head as Toto laughed, leading you back down the landing, this time towards the main staircase. As you descended the stairs, you could hear excited chatter from the foyer before catching sight of two familiar faces, James and Cara. You felt somewhat relieved that George had not yet arrived but were still nervous as to what they could say.

“Toto! You old rascal!” James called out as soon as he spotted you both, his voice teasing.

“Old?” Toto replied with a grin, stepping forward to greet his friends. “How was the journey?”

“Not too bad,” Cara said, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. “We made good time in the end, have you two been here long?”

“No, about an hour, Toto was just showing me around,” you said, turning to hug James, glad that they were here and you’d have at least two friends for the weekend.

“It’s gorgeous right?” said Cara, beaming at you and Toto.

“Indeed,” you said, politely leaning in to greet James with a hug.

“Andreas will take your bags,” said Toto, gesturing at a sandy-haired younger man patiently waiting in the doorway. He looked just like a younger Claus and you made a note to ask Toto if he was Greta and Claus’ son.

“Thank you, Andreas,” said Cara warmly.

“We’ve put you in the room with the balcony like last year,” said Toto.

“Perfect, thank you so much Toto.” said Cara excitedly before turning to you, “It’s heaven, it has its own hot tub.”

“Ah yes, I remember that,” said James, approaching his wife, making her face redden. You hated to think what that was about and exchanged a raised eyebrow with Toto.

“Spare us the details James,” said Toto in a deadpan tone before throwing you a wink.

James chuckled and threw an arm around Cara’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it PG. For now,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows, earning a playful nudge from his wife.

“Not on my account,” you replied, feeling more at ease. It was a relief to know that James and Cara, at least, were fully supportive of you and Toto.

Toto chuckled, pulling you to his side. “Let’s get you settled in,” he said, guiding everyone further into the house.

As Andreas handled the bags, you all moved towards the living room, settling down on the large cream sofa as Toto set about pouring drinks in the bar area.

“So,” James began, stretching out and making himself at home, “What’s on the agenda for this weekend, Toto? Skiing? Apres? Or are we just here to relax and enjoy the view?”

Toto smiled, glancing at you before responding. “Whatever you want James, but mostly to switch off and relax..”

“I like the sound of that,” Cara said, curling up next to her husband. “It’s been a hectic few months. A little downtime is exactly what you guys need.”

You nodded in agreement, knowing that Toto had been working flat-out, as had the rest of the team.

As you all chatted, the doorbell rang, meaning more guests. Toto squeezed your hand gently, reassuring you as he got up to go and greet them.

“Here we go,” you murmured to Cara, who gave you a supportive smile.

Toto returned with Marion and John in tow, the older couple lamenting the cold weather. Marion’s eyes lit up when she saw you and she immediately rushed over to hug you.

“It’s so good to see you!” Marion exclaimed, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

You smiled, relieved by her enthusiasm. “It’s good to see you too, Marion. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” she laughed. “But we’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

John gave you a friendly nod, clearly more reserved. “Nice to see you again,” he said, shaking your hand.

“Good to see you too.” you blushed, knowing that John was likely privy to what had happened between yourself, George and Toto and must have felt as awkward as you did.

“Come, sit down, let me get you a drink,” said Toto, chiding John and Marion as they lingered in the living room.

“I’ll help.” offered John, looking unsure about sitting without Toto.

“Thank you,” said Toto as the two men busied themselves at the bar.

You settled back down on the plush sofa with your wine in hand, now beside Marion, who had just been handed her own glass by Toto. Edging closer, the older woman turned to you, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “So...you and Toto, huh? I have to say, I didn’t see that one coming. I know things with George were tense in the Summer but Toto…?”

You sighed, laughing nervously, “Me neither, but he’s just… different.”

Marion raised an eyebrow as she took a sip. “Different, how? In that he’s a man, not a boy?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. “It’s not just that,” you admitted. “He listens to me, if I tell him something, he remembers.”

“That’s important,” Marion nodded. “And rare. I was shocked- I have to say but you look much happier than you did in the Summer and that’s all that matters.” She smiled warmly before adding with a wink, “Plus, I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. You must have done something right.”

You laughed, grateful for her kind words and lack of judgment. Before you could respond, the sound of a car pulling up outside grabbed your attention. You exchanged a glance with Toto, who having poured everyone drinks had just returned to his vacated seat, both aware of who had just arrived. Your stomach tightened as the familiar hum of voices grew louder from the foyer.

“Here we go,” you muttered under your breath as Toto got up once more to greet the final group of guests.

“Is this not going to be awkward?” asked Marion, sipping her wine beside you.

“You don’t even know half of it,” you said resignedly.

“What do you mean?” asked the older woman, intent on gathering the scoop.

“It’s complicated…” you started before Cara chimed in.

“George turned up on her doorstep drunk the other night and declared his love for her. Toto then turned up for a date while George was there and they exchanged some… let’s say words.” Cara said, her eyes gleaming, “All very Bridget Jones.”

“Shit,” said John and Marion in unison, not having been privy to the full situation.

“I knew George and Toto were off with one another,” muttered John, “You were there James, at that meeting last week?”

James leant forward, seemingly less comfortable gossiping about his colleagues and choosing his words carefully, “Yes. I know they were at each other but I thought it was because of the Summer, not that there were more recent developments.”

As the older couples openly discussed your love life you wished you could shrink back into the sofa and disappear. Toto had brushed off your questions about the workplace dynamic between him and George and you wondered if this weekend was his attempt at rebuilding their relationship.

“Did Toto not say anything to you?” asked John.

“Not really,” you said shyly.

“Well, I’m sure it will blow over,” said Cara kindly, spotting your nervous look.

“I hope so,” you said weakly, the truth was that you were tense as you awaited George’s arrival fiddling with your wine glass idly. What would George say when he walked in? Would he ignore you, or would he… no, you forced yourself not to overthink.

Fortunately, your misery was short-lived as Toto reappeared with Sam, George’s race engineer and Darren, another engineer who was a close friend of George’s. Neither of them had brought their girlfriends and you couldn’t help but wonder why George had decided to bring someone when just a week earlier he was busy declaring his love for you.

“Hey,” Sam said, spotting you from across the room, his tone a little frostier than usual, “How’s it going?”

As you got up to greet the two men, knowing that they were going to be less than friendly after what you had done to George, you almost missed George himself wandering in with an extremely tall and thin blonde companion on his arm. She was beautiful, in a polished, flawless way that made you feel immediately self-conscious. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled and she wore a cream ski outfit that looked like it had never seen a day on the slopes. She regarded you with the kind of polite disinterest some reserve for waitstaff, her eyes skimming over you briefly before returning to George. Still, something in the way she pursed her lips sent a cold tingle down your spine.

George’s eyes met yours briefly, a flicker of emotion passing through them. For a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something was still left unsaid and hanging heavy between you. It was, however, a blink and it’s gone moment as he quickly looked away and pulled his companion towards you.

“Hey,” he said somewhat awkwardly, “This is Elisa, Elisa, this is—” George began, but Elisa cut him off, stepping forward.

“Yes I know who she is,” Elisa said sweetly, her eyes flicking to Toto and then back to you. “I’ve heard all about you.” Her words hung in the air, sharp beneath their pleasant surface. There was no mistaking the underlying hostility.

“It’s nice to meet you, Elisa,” you said, forcing a polite smile. You decided it was best to take the high road.

Elisa’s lips curved into a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Likewise.”

“So is it your first time in Austria?” you asked, trying your best to make polite chitchat.

“No. I have been coming here to ski since I was a child.” she said coldly, “I assume it is yours?”

A little taken aback by her continuing cool demeanour, you tried your best to not let her unsettle you, “Yes, it’s so beautiful, I can’t wait to get out tomorrow.”

“Really?” said George, looking surprised, “I thought you hated ski-ing.”

“I don’t hate it, I’m just not any good at it,” you said, trying not to make things even more awkward with Elisa.

“Hmm.” said George, unconvinced, “Well it’s nice to see you. I had better introduce Elisa to the others.”

You nodded as George and Elisa made their way over to where James, John, Cara and Marion were huddled, chatting animatedly. As you stood alone you suddenly felt very out of place but as luck would have it, a hand gently tapped you on the arm and as you turned you were relieved to see Toto and Greta.

Toto must have read your face like a book as he remarked, his voice quiet, “It was always going to be awkward. But better to rip it off like a bandaid. We’re going to have George in our lives for a long time.”

As awkward as you felt in the moment, you knew Toto was right and you were somewhat buoyed by the fact that he was thinking about the future. You nodded and sighed as Greta shot you a look of sympathy, “Don’t worry, once everyone is settled, we are going to show them to their rooms so they can get ready for dinner.”

Smiling at the kind older woman, you were grateful that she too seemed to understand how uncomfortable you felt. Toto had obviously filled her in on the situation and explained the strange group dynamic.

“Hey boss,” came a voice from behind you. It was Sam, “Thanks again for inviting us!”

“That’s quite alright,” said Toto politely, “I hope it makes up for my garage outbursts.”

“One hundred per cent,” said Sam brightly, finishing his wine in a gulp before looking pointedly at you, “Although these last few months you’ve been less grumpy.”

Toto looked less than amused at Sam’s cheeky comment, bristling at the younger man’s words, “Perhaps,” he replied starchily.

Looking suitably chastised, Sam dropped his grin before stepping back slightly, “Well, I guess I should go and say hi to the others.”

“That wasn’t awkward at all,” you said, looking up at Toto.

“Indeed.” said Toto, looking weary before dropping his voice, “I should have explained that George asked me if he could invite his friends from the team and I said yes because I felt guilty if he didn’t have anyone. Then last week he asked if he could bring one more person, Elisa, and by that point, I couldn’t uninvite them.”

“Oh.” you said, “That makes sense.”

Toto grimaced as he saw George, Sam and Darren huddled in chatter, muttering “I knew it, I’m too nice.”

You and Greta laughed in unison, knowing full well that no one would ever accuse Toto of being too nice.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, looking perplexed.

“No reason.” you said, squeezing his hand, “I’m just messing.”

“I hope so.” Toto said, slipping his arm around your waist, “Okay, let’s gather everybody, Greta.”

FRIDAY EVENING

Having successfully gathered the group to be shown to their rooms by Greta and Andreas, you and Toto had since retired to the master suite to unpack while the guests settled in. There had been grumbles from John and Marion when they discovered that James and Cara had already been given the room with the hot tub, but Toto reminded them that there were always alternative bedrooms with bunkbeds, which quickly silenced them.

Much to your amusement, George and Elisa had to share a bathroom with Sam and Darren, something which had seemed to rile up the starchy blonde.

“Did you purposefully give George and Elisa the shared bathroom room?” you asked Toto as you emptied your suitcases.

Toto grinned, hanging a shirt beside you, “Maybe.”

“You are a very naughty man,” you said, tickled by Toto’s surprisingly petty streak.

"Well, I didn’t hear any complaints from you," he teased, hanging another shirt in the wardrobe.

You laughed, before broaching a more serious topic, "Touché. The thing is, I know it’s weird circumstances but Elisa gives me the heebie jeebies. She did not like me at all, straight off the bat”

Sensing your shift in tone, Toto set down the jumper he was unfolding and came over to stand beside you, his hand resting gently on your back. "Perhaps, but you have to remember, everything she knows about you is from George’s perspective." His voice was low and reassuring. "You don’t need to be best friends with Elisa but as long as George feels fine, we will be fine.

You sighed, leaning into his touch, but a frown tugged at your lips. "Yeah, I guess you’re right. He looks okay.”

Toto nodded, "I hope so, after his… blip." He paused as if remembering George’s final outburst in your flat. "Thank you for coming and putting up with this, I know it’s not easy, but I need the team to be tight for next season.”

“I’m happy to be here,” you said brightly. It was the truth, however weird the situation was, you were grateful that Toto liked you enough to include him in his inner circle.

“I hope so,” said Toto, “Maybe if you like it, we can come back for New Year, just us?”

At that, your eyes lit up, the prospect of a romantic New Year with Toto was more than tempting, “I’d love that.”

"Then it’s done," Toto said, kissing the top of your head. "Now come on, let’s head down to dinner before everybody wonders what’s taking us so long."

– – –

Making your way back downstairs to the dining room, hand in hand with Toto, you were greeted by the mouthwatering scent of Claus’s cooking wafting from the dining room. “That smells incredible,” you said to Toto, your eyes lighting up.

“I told you he’s good,” replied Toto as he led you to where the dining table was set, laden with candles and elegant crystalware, somewhat at odds with the rustic cuisine. Claus had prepared what looked to be a veritable feast of Austrian mountain dishes, with Greta assisting, ladling Glühwein from the large pot you’d seen simmering on the stove earlier.

Your guests were already seated and making polite small talk amongst themselves, but as soon as you and Toto entered, you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. George, Sam and Darren stopped talking almost immediately whilst Elisa shot you another cold glance. Her posture was stiff, her eyes fixed on some point beyond the room as if she were too good for the company she found herself in. George sat next to her, looking more withdrawn than usual, his jaw clenched as he stopped mid-conversation.

Thankfully John broke the tension quickly, “There he is, the man of the hour!” before adding, “And the woman!”

Toto laughed “Have you already been at the Glühwein?”

“Of course he has,” chimed in Marion, elbowing her husband in the ribs as you and Toto took a seat opposite them.

“Why am I not surprised?” muttered Toto, shaking his head in faux horror, “Are you all happy with your rooms?”

Resounding yes’ came back, although you couldn’t help but notice Elisa nudging George at the other end of the table. Having been with him for so long, you knew from his dark look that he was not thrilled but was biting his tongue. You wondered if he was trying to be on his best behaviour with Toto as it was not like him to keep his feelings in. Toto hadn’t seemed to notice but you made a mental note to keep an eye. You wondered why he had even brought Elisa as he didn’t seem overly enamoured with her, but you supposed it wasn’t your place to worry.

“Any problems, let me know,” said Toto before gesturing at the food in the centre of the table, “And most importantly, bon appetit!”

As the table came alive with plates and utensils clinking, arms suddenly scrambled and you weren’t sure where to start. Fortunately, Toto noticed your reticence and took your plate, “Here, my arms are longer, what would you like to try?”

“A bit of everything I guess,” you said, amused when you saw that George was watching Toto and started to do the same thing for Elisa.

“Here you go,” Toto said kindly, setting a heavily laden plate down in front of you, having lived up to his promise.

“Toto!” you exclaimed, “That is way too much!”

“That’s what she said,” came a voice sniggering from your side, low enough for you to hear but not Toto. You turned to shoot Darren a dirty look, “Grow up.” you said, not amused by George’s friend’s comment.

Toto raised his eyebrow as he heard your retort but didn’t say anything, now helping himself to an equally healthy portion of Claus’ cooking.

You could see Elisa fussing across from you, not happy with George’s serving skills. Something was off with her but you tried to not dwell on it and focus on the man beside you instead.

Snapping you out of your internal thoughts, Darren turned once again to you, his voice now just loud enough to draw the attention of the table, "So, what’s it like dating the boss?"

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Do you two talk about spreadsheets and racing strategy over breakfast, or?" He trailed off as if waiting for someone else to join in.

You shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Toto. You saw his jaw tighten for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "No spreadsheets at breakfast," Toto said evenly, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of authority that made Sam and Darren hesitate. "But if you’re curious, we can schedule a meeting to discuss it after the Winter Break."

The table went quiet for a second, before John and James laughed, appreciating Toto diffusing the situation. Still, you could feel George’s eyes on you from across the table, his expression unreadable.

"Oh, come on, leave them alone!" Cara said with a playful grin. "They have better things to do than talk shop.”

She winked at you and while her teasing was intended to lighten the mood, it only seemed to irritate George further. He shifted in his seat, his glass clattering against his coaster a little too forcefully. Elisa, noticing his reaction, narrowed her eyes and gave you a pointed look, her lips curling into a faint smirk as if she found the whole thing highly amusing. You smiled back at her, trying not to let her rile you up.

Toto leaned over and whispered in your ear, his voice low. "Ignore those guys. They’re just bored."

You nodded, forcing a smile as the conversation around the table shifted to the plans for skiing the next day.

– – –

Just as the laughter around the table started to feel natural again, the lights flickered dramatically and then went out entirely, plunging the room into near darkness. There was a collective gasp, followed by murmurs of confusion. Almost immediately Toto grabbed your hand, instantly reminding you of the power outage on the yacht all those months ago.

“Well, this is cosy,” Marion said.

“Maybe it’s just the weather,” John suggested, but as you peered out the window, you saw nothing but swirling snow, the mountain outside completely engulfed by the storm.

“Looks like we’re having a candlelit dinner, whether we like it or not,” Toto quipped, his voice cutting through the whispers.

“Romantic, huh?” John added with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light.

"Indeed, but maybe it's more than just the weather," Toto murmured beside you, his voice calm but with an edge of concern. He stood up, squeezing your hand once more and addressed the group. "Everyone stay here. I'll check with Andreas to see what’s going on."

As he stepped away, you heard a few nervous laughs ripple through the table. The flickering candles provided a soft glow, barely illuminating the faces around you. You could just about make out Elisa in the semi-darkness, looking somewhat less irritated now, her eyes darting toward George, who was uncharacteristically quiet.

John, always the entertainer, clapped his hands together. "Well, if we're snowed in, at least we've got food and wine!" He reached for the Glühwein pot, pouring himself another glass, “Anyone else?”

Marion chuckled, "Don’t mind if I do.”

“Didn’t this happen on Toto’s yacht too?” asked Cara.

“It did!” said John, with a laugh “Somebody hasn’t been paying their power bills.”

“And who would that be?” came a bemused voice from the doorway. Toto was back.

“Some Wolff man?” retorted John, nervous laughter ringing through the group.

“I’ll have to find him and have a strong word,” said Toto, coming back to his seat.

Elisa crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "How long do you think the power will be out?" she asked, her voice sharper than it needed to be. You could tell she wasn’t as comfortable with the situation as she was pretending.

Toto replied, his expression serious, "The storm’s knocked out power for the whole area. Andreas is already working on getting the backup generator running, but it could take a while."

George sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course." He glanced at Elisa, who shot him a withering look. Even in the low light, it was obvious they were both on edge.

“Relax George,” said James, “We don’t need electricity to have a good time.”

“You know, this reminds me of those old-fashioned dinners.” John added, “The kind where people actually talk to each other.”

“Yeah,” Cara agreed, “It’s not all bad. We’re not just staring at our phones.”

You caught Elisa’s eye as she glanced around the room, clearly uncomfortable. You decided to take a chance and try to bridge the gap. “So Elisa, you mentioned you ski a lot? Where do you normally go?”

Elisa looked slightly taken aback but seemed to soften a bit. “Yes, I grew up skiing. Mostly in Zermatt, sometimes in Lech.”

Not clued up on ski resorts, Toto saved you, “Nice, which do you prefer?”

Elisa warmed up as she seemed to appreciate you both taking an interest “Actually Lech, the food is better.”

Toto laughed, “That’s the correct answer, not that I am biased.”

You smiled politely, hoping to keep the conversation flowing. “That’s interesting, I’ve always found trying new food to be one of the best parts of travelling.”

George, who had been virtually silent, chimed in. “One hundred percent! Do you remember that mad restaurant in Brazil?”

Fuck. Elisa’s face dropped. Why did George have to bring up the past, even if it was seemingly innocent?

“Which one was that?” asked Toto, oblivious to George’s faux pas.

“Oh, it was just me and George.” you said, hoping to end the conversation there, “We got brave and ventured out.”

“I remember.” Sam said, unable to resist stirring the pot, “We thought you’d been kidnapped.”

“Not a racist stereotype at all…” you muttered. Sam was starting to irritate you.

“But we survived hey?” said George, “I’ll have to take you there next year Elisa.”

“Lovely,” said Elisa flatly, her frosty demeanour returning. You tried to shoot a warning look across the table at George but you knew your efforts were futile in the poor light. For someone so intelligent, sometimes he really could be dense.

Fortunately, Cara and Marion had already started discussing more about tomorrow’s plans and your worries were once more drowned in idle chatter.

– – –

With dinner winding down, Claus having served an equally generous dessert, the lights were still not back on. Toto had disappeared for a while to investigate further and shortly returned, addressing the group, “Andreas is still getting the generator up and running. In the meantime, how about we make the most of it? We can head to the games room and play some backgammon and have some drinks if you’d like?”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Marion said, her eyes lighting up. “I haven’t played backgammon in ages!”

“I’m game,” John agreed with a grin. “But I warn you, I haven’t lost a backgammon match in… well, let’s say a long time.”

James chuckled, “That’s a bold claim. Just don’t let it go to your head. I remember last time you got so cocky, you almost flipped the board.”

John winked. “That’s the strategy. Get them thinking about my ego instead of their game plan.”

Toto rolled his eyes, “I suppose I should expect a full-scale rematch then?”

James nodded. “Oh, absolutely. And don’t think I’m going easy on you, Toto.”

Meanwhile, you were chatting with Marion, Cara and Elisa, trying to keep things light.

Marion took the opportunity to steer the conversation. “So, Elisa, do you have any favourite board games, or is it just skiing and fine dining for you?”

Elisa smiled, “Actually, I enjoy a good board game now and then. Monopoly, Clue, the usual. I am not great at backgammon though.”

“Rubbish!” interjected George, “You beat me all the time.”

“Maybe you’re not that great?” countered Cara, the older woman smiling, earning a laugh from Elisa. She was most definitely warming up.

– – –

As the group made their way to the games room, the atmosphere felt lighter. John and James were already debating the rules of backgammon, while Toto was busy setting up the board. The room filled with the sound of cheerful chatter and clinking glasses, the earlier tension slowly melting away.

Eventually, John leaned over the backgammon board, contemplating it with a mock-serious expression. “Alright, let’s get this started. And just so everyone knows, I’m not playing for fun. I’m playing to win.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? I’m not so sure about that one.”

Toto, who had just finished setting up, grinned. “Careful, James, he is good.”

George, finally getting into the competitive spirit, added with a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll be the one to put John in his place.”

Elisa, now more relaxed, sat down next to Marion, who was watching as John and James took their seats opposite each other, Toto and Sam beside John and George and Darren beside James. “I’ve missed this,” Marion said, looking at the board with nostalgia. “It’s nice to see them getting along again.”

Cara nudged you playfully. “Indeed.”

As the game progressed, the men’s competitive spirits were evident. John and James were locked in a fierce head-to-head, throwing playful taunts as each move was made. “Did you see that?” John exclaimed, looking triumphant.

James rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Let’s see how you handle my next move.”

George, who was actively engaged, started whispering in James’ ear. Likely discussing his next strategic move.

As the evening wore on and the laughter and chatter continued, it never failed to make you laugh at how competitive these guys could be outside of work. Even Elisa couldn’t fight laughter at some of George’s more creative burns. Eventually, as the majority of the group had played, the evening was naturally drawing to a close.

Sensing this, Toto glanced around the room with a warm smile. “How about we call it a night? I think we’ve all earned some rest. It’s an early start tomorrow remember.”

The group amiable to his suggestion, the backgammon board was carefully packed away for another evening and the group slowly dispersed. Bidding the last of his friends goodnight, Toto took your hand and led you back to your room. The storm outside still raged and the power was yet to come back but Andreas had assured you all that it would be back imminently.

– – –

Settling into bed with Toto’s arms around you, the lack of electricity and whirling storm outside brought memories flooding back of the night when the power cut out on Toto’s yacht and you’d found yourself pressed up against him in a cupboard. It had been the first time you’d considered that he might reciprocate your crush, his body betraying him as you’d found yourself nestled against him in close quarters.

"You know…" you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head up to look at him. "This kind of reminds me of that night on the yacht."

Toto’s hand, which had been tracing lazy circles on your back, paused. A low chuckle escaped him, and he glanced down at you with a knowing look. "The cupboard," he said, amusement in his voice. “When you accidentally ended up pressed against me, half-naked?”

You smirked, your fingers tracing his arm that was draped over you. “Accidentally?” you teased back. “I seem to remember you pulling me in there. I had no choice in the matter.”

“To keep you safe from things flying around the boat,” Toto said, eyes glinting with mischief. “Though I’ll admit, it didn’t exactly feel like the safest situation after a while.” His gaze dropped to your lips for a second and the air between you thickened.

You shifted slightly, turning to lie across his chest, your thigh brushing his body under the sheets. “Mmm, I do remember you being a little… distracted.” You ran your hand down his bare chest, feeling his muscles tense under your touch, desire in your voice.

Toto groaned softly, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, "Is that how you remember it?" His tone was smooth, but there was a flicker of heat in his eyes. "I recall you being the one pressed so close against me that neither of us had much of a choice.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you tilted your head, giving him better access as his lips skimmed down your neck. “It was a tight space. What did you expect?” you whispered, feeling the heat between your bodies growing with each touch.

Toto’s mouth hovered just above your skin, his breath warm, sending shivers down your spine. “I expected us to talk about it afterwards,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “but we never did.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, your heart racing as you saw the intensity in his eyes. “Maybe I didn’t want to talk about it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I liked the tension.”

His lips quirked into a smile, his hand slipping under the covers, fingers ghosting over your bare skin. “Did you now?” he murmured, leaning towards you until your lips were barely an inch apart. “What about now? Should we talk about it? Or should we do something about it?”

Your breath hitched and before you could respond, Toto’s lips met yours, slow at first, teasing, but quickly deepening with an intensity that made your heart pound. His hands roamed over your body as if making up for all the time you’d spent dancing around each other in the past.

“You’re not flustered this time?” you whispered, your voice filled with a hint of playfulness as you broke the kiss for a moment, catching your breath.

Toto smirked, his hand sliding up to cup your face as he looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and full of heat. “Oh, I’m flustered,” he admitted, his thumb brushing your lower lip. “But I’m not letting it stop me this time.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his body pressing against you. You murmured between kisses, “I’m glad we’re not stuck in a cupboard this time.”

Toto let out a low laugh, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with desire. “I’ll admit, this is much better,” he said, his voice husky as his fingers traced your curves.

You bit your lip, your heart racing as his hands worked their way lower, his touch setting every nerve on fire. “So... you’re not planning on stopping this time?”

Toto’s gaze flickered with hunger, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth before trailing down your neck. “Not unless you want me to,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers racing down your spine.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed down your collarbone and you tugged him back to face you, your voice low and teasing. “I wish you’d just taken me in the cupboard.”

Toto groaned softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his hands gripping your hips as if he never wanted to let go. “God, I wish I had. It would have been so easy, with you in that little nightdress,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

“It’s okay,” you said, letting go fully, “You can make up for it now.”

His lips found yours again, and you quickly lost yourselves in a tangle of limbs, the storm outside almost forgotten as you both melted into each other.

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probablyintensemuses · 5 months ago

Text

Hey, Brother

Armando Aretas

🎧- Story of My Life: One Direction

summary: Armando’s your older brother, here’s how you meet, past and present.

themes: extreme angst and fluff. A bit of violence. But mostly found family and sibling love.

authors note: completely convinced he’d be an amazing older brother. There is a 8 year age gap between reader (20) and Armando (28). Also shout out to my older brother…I wuv you 💞😭 Also yes I know i switched a few things around. Just enjoy it. If you want a part two, lemme know!

Read Part two here

Four Years Ago

Miami Florida University

The night on campus was quiet, the only things to be heard were the comforting trill of crickets and the soft waves of the ocean, only three miles out from the college.

Armando sat idle on his motorcycle, twelve beats away from where he’d been told you, their next victim, worked.

This entire time he’d been killing people in the name of the Aretas family, he couldn’t understand why Mike Lowery, some beat cop came last. And why his mother was resorting to taking his daughter as bait.

What made Mike so important that he deserved a fight for his life, for your life?

“Mamá, no entiendo, ¿por qué ella?” Armando says through his phone.

Isabel sighs on the other end. “Con el tiempo, hijo mío.”

“She’s just a kid.” Armando sighs, pulling out his ipad and looking at your photos again.

From what he gathered, your were a first year nursing student here at MFU, you got great grades, danced for a kpop club, and worked part time at the cafe he was currently parked out side of.

But most importantly, you were Mike Lowery’s daughter.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t matter.

But for some reason, to his mother, it did.

“She's a pawn,’ Isabel hisses. “Mike necesita conocer el dolor de la pérdida; this will show him.”

Armando nods, taking a deep breath, feeling the same incorrigible anger rising up in his pit again at the sound of Mikes name.

This man had stolen everything from him: his family, his dynasty…his father.

Though his didn’t understand his mother’s methods, he’d never question her madness.

This man took everything from them, it’s time he learned that same pain, and as much as he didn’t enjoy hurting innocent… you were the key to getting even.

“Lo haré mamá.” Armando said, watching you finally exit the cafe.

“Muy bien.” Isabel said, hanging up.

Armando pushed off on his bike, riding a bit down the narrow street before hanging a right and turning back around.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a needle. Whatever was in there was strong enough to knock out a bear, so it should have no problems sending you, a small college freshman, into a deep sleep.

Swiftly, he drives forward, accelerating until he just passes you before he makes an abrupt stop, cutting your path off.

You fall back and onto your ass.

You help as you hit the pavement, lifting your small hands to access the damage that had been caused by you cradling your fall.

You hiss at your bleeding palms before looking up at Armando in sheer disgust.

The heat of your gaze causes Armando to flip up the visor on his helmet, something in your eyes giving him pause.

He wasn’t a vain person in the slightest, but something about your eyes, when he looked in the mirror, they were so similar to his own that it nearly startled him. They were the same shade of chocolate brown covered by thick, dark lashes.

His observation of you quickly dries as your curse at him. “What the hell, dude! You could have killed me!”

Armando doesn’t say anything, instead he offers you a hand.

Reluctantly, you take it.

Just as your nearly up, Armando pricks you with the needle.

Your face drops as you snatch your hand away from him.

You look down at your palm, a single trail of blood dribbling down your wrist from the spot he pricked you at.

“What the fuck,’ you wobble, turning to run down an ally.

Armando watches as you attempt to flee, he knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

And as he predicted, ten steps in and you were slumped against the moist ally ground.

He picks you up, slinging you across his shoulders, carrying you towards his bike and driving off into the night.

Later…

When you awoke, you found yourself bound to a chair in a large, abandoned house. You wiggle against the binds, only scathing your wrist even more.

You scream out, panic rising in your chest as your breaths shorten.

"Help!" You scream. "Someone help me!"

"Help is on the way, princessa.' A slick voice says.

You turn and see a beautiful woman taking slow, slutry steps down the staircase towards you.

"Who the hell are you?" You croak, scooting away from her the best you can in this damn chair.

The woman, grips your chair with one hand, while running another through your curls. "Your fathers la venganza.” She hissed.

“Don’t touch me,’ you bite. “And my father did nothing wrong, you’re lying.”

Isabel grips your chin, hard. You try and wiggle free but it’s no use as she pulls you close.

She turns your head from side to side, the warm evening sun causing a glint in your eyes.

“Always the eyes,’ she mumbles. “He gives all of his children his eyes.”

“What?” You question, breathlessly.

Isabel forcefully lets you go, leaving a sore spot on your chin.

Your mind reels around her words and the weight of them.

She was your father’s revenge, why? And had she been the one to shoot him all those months ago?

And all of his children. Your father only had one child, you.

Looking around the wear house and seeing all the sage and candles burnt, the circles and alters, you could tell that whoever this woman was, she was crazy and you wanted no parts.

The thought was enough to make a few screams come out of you.

You stamp your foot against the ground, “Let me go! Let me the fuck go!”

Isabel rolls her eyes at you, mumbling something in Spanish before she shouts, “Armando, ven a llevarla antes de que la mate yo mismo.”

Quickly, the man for the other night emerges.

“No,’ you scoot back in your chair as far as you could. “No.”

The man, Armando, grabs you out of your chair and drags you up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, he slices your binds loose but still has a good hold on you.

Now, you by no means are a good fighter, but with your dad being police, you know a few things.

So as Armando unlocks a door, presumably to put you in, you stamp on his foot as hard as you can.

Armando yelps at the sensation, doubling over, giving you enough time to kick him in the legs and send him down on the ground.

As soon as he hits the floor you take off, running down the steps as fast as you can.

In the foyer, you check for the exit in front of you, but the door is locked.

Your head is buzzing, you didn’t have much time as Armando would be up soon, probably ready to kill you, and that Isabel, who knew what she’d do if she caught you.

You had to move fast, and the window behind you, seemed like your best bet.

You scurried over me to it, working frantically as you tore wooden planks off the window.

You about all got your face out the window before strong arms wrap around your waist living and pushing your back.

You scream as you hit the ground, coming face to face with a less than pleased Armando.

“Enough games!” He shouts.

You crawl backwards, afraid he’ll hit you…or worse.

“Okay!’ You whimper. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You squeak as he towers over your shaking body.

You fully expect him to return the blows you’d given him earlier, but to your surprise he doesn’t. He just grabs you up again and takes you back to that same room.

Shoving you inside he gives you a parting word.

“Do that shit again, and I won’t save you.” He slams the door, leaving you alone in a windowless room, wondering how you’ll end up dead.

In all the enemies your father has had, none of them had mad it a personal mission to kidnap you…so why had they?

Fingers toiling with the dirt around you, it finally clicked.

This was a set up.

You were bait.

And just as fate would have it, you could hear what sounded like your father and Marcus crowding in the foyer downstairs.

You stood up, running towards the door and banging on it like a madwoman.

“Help! Dad! Uncle Marcus!” You shout, slamming your fist against the door.

When the door flies open, you expect to see one or both of them there, but you see Armando.

“Come on.” He grabs you. “Nice and easy.” He places a gun to your temple.

“Stop, why are you doing this?” You whimper, taking careful steps down the stairs.

“Why did your father start it, hm, princesa?” He questions, pulling you in front of your family.

“Dad!” You shout, tears pooling from your eyes.

“Let her go, Armando!’ He shouts, turning to Isabel who stands elated. “She’s a kid.”

“We were all kids once, Mike. It’s why she must have her turn.” Isabel says.

Mike shakes his head, drawing his gun at her, Marcus doing the same to Armando.

“You kill me, he kills her.” Isabel shrugs.

Marcus adds, “then I’ll kill him.”

“Then it’ll be a blood bath.”

You whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

Armando tightens his grip on you. “Cállate.”

“I just want to go home, daddy.” You cry.

Mikes hand shakes as he hears your pleas. “I know, baby, and we will.”

Isabel smacks her lips. “Liar!” She shouts, lunging at Mike.

Mike dodges the hit, but Marcus’s gun going off starts a cataclysmic event.

Everyone who wants present before suddenly emerging from the darkness and letting off their weapons.

You scream, falling back into Armando, who lifted you off the ground with one hand while shooting with the other, as the chaos erupts around you.

“Marcus!’ Mike yells. “Get Isabel, I’ll get my daughter!”

Marcus sprints, to the best of his ability, after Isabel, while Mike makes full way towards Armando.

In a dark room, Armando drops you, pushing you into a corner.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” He threatens.

You whimper in a comply.

You hear your father, Mike, burst through the doors, calling your name.

You do as Armando says, though, keeping quiet, afraid anything you do or say will get you and Mike hurt…or worse.

You watch from the dark corner as your father searches the room, only seconds later Armando jumps him, landing a blow.

You watch from the sidelines as they traded blows back and forth.

And it hurt to watch your father in a fight, it did, but what hurt most? The words slipping from his mouth.

“Armando,’ he said. “I’m your father.”

Your head was buzzing, spinning.

What the fuck did he mean this man was his son? How was that even possible?

Your heart raced as you watched Armando’s face fall, confusion lacing every corner.

“You’re lying,’ he said lading another blow, bending down and dragging your father out of the room and into the burning hallway.

You weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or curiosity, but you needed to see this through, hear it for yourself.

You push to stand and creep after them.

Armando has your father at the ledge, his shirt balled up working his hands.

“Last chance,’ he croaks, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Lie again.” Armando growled, wrapping his hand around your fathers neck, applying pressure.

You gasped, stepping forward, but a hand cautioned you to stay hidden.

You turn, finding Marcus’s comforting eyes as he mouths, “Don’t do it.”

"He needs us," you whisper in protest, Marcus's arm staying firm on yours.

"They need this, just wait."

You relax, only a little watching the scene unfold.

"Ask your mother if you don't believe me." Mike croaks.

Armando turns, loosening his grip on Mike, and in a turn of lightning, Isabel appears, mumbling in Spanish.

"Es verdad lo que dice?" Armando questions his mother.

Isabel shrugs. "No es importante. Mátalo.' her eyes drag over to where you and Marcus stand. "Entonces ellos."

Armando shakes his head in frustration. "Es mi papá?"

Isabel's eyes darken, her words fleeing her mouth more rapidly. "

"Is he my father!" Armando shouts.

Something in the way your father laid limp in Armando's graps, the fire and smoke building around you all, and the life you once knew just yesterday crumpling around you had you desperate for the truth.

"Tell him!" You shout.

Isabel pays you no mind when she says, "yes."

Three letters.

One word.

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You had a brother you hadn't known about, a brother who drugged and kidnapped you.

all of his children have his eyes.

A brother your father had behind you and your mother's back.

The realization made your mind splinter, picking up in your chest with each shortened breath you took.

Tears pooled in your eyes, making the scene in front of you blur and sharpen, wax and wane.

It's not until a shout and commotion caused you to dial back in, where you find Isabel pointing the barrel of her gun directly at your chest.

You're too frozen to move and put your hands up to brace yourself for the pain, for death.

But it never comes.

only the sounds of four shots ringing out and blaring in your ears, that's the only sensation you get.

You move your hands from your eyes and find Isabel falling over the balcony to her death and Armando on the floor, his shirt filling with blood as Mike, Marcus, and Rita crowd around him.

It clicks then for you, he took that bullet for you, he stepped in for you against his mother.

This family was dysfunctional as hell.

"Get over here!' your father calls out to you. "Now!"

You scurry over, tearing off your flannel and placing it on Armando's wound.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Rita shouts.

"Go with Rita!" Mike shouts towards you.

You nod, locking hands with Rita and rushing out of the burning building.

Once outside, you look behind yourself to find Mike and Marcus dragging Armando's body and placing him on the ground, applying pressure to his wounds.

The rain clouds your vision as you draw closer to the van waiting to take you away and back home.

"Is he going to be okay?" You ask, holding your wet and naked arms.

Rita sighs, ushering you into the car. "I don't think that's something you should have to worry about.' She smiles softly. "Get some rest, kid. Okay?"

You nod and shut the door, feeling the car jerk before it pulls off and away from the chaos.

You fasten your seatbelt and lean your head back against the headrest.

Perhaps Rita was right, maybe worrying about Armando wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was best for you to shove it down and let your dad deal with it, like he did everything.

Because you didn't think your heart could handle any more than what it was already going through. Thinking about Armando, your father, and Isabel...it would only weigh you down more.

So you decided to leave them all at that building that night, to burn up in the flames.

At least you tried to...

Four Years Later

Miami Florida University

"Please tell me you're coming to this party tonight?" Your friend, Kiesha, asked over the phone.

You chuckle, climbing the last flight of stairs to your apartment. Your father, Mike, had got it for you as gift for being in your last year of college.

“I can’t, sorry.’ You place the key code to your apartment and the door unlocks. “Lots of studying to do.” You half-lie.

“Girl, all you do is study. You know college is not actually for school.” You can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

You drop your bags on the counter, pulling out a pack of ramen noodles and starting a pot of boiling water.

“That’s easy to say for someone who’s only half majoring in, what is it, communications?” You comment.

The line goes silent for a minute before Keisha comes back.

“Wow,’ she scoffs. “I get that you’re stressing out with finals and you know, your dad being a fucking fugitive and all, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

You run a hand through your hair, it getting tangled within your curls towards the end.

“Kiesh,’ you groan.

“Save it. Have fun studying.” She grumbles before hanging up.

“Fuck!’ You shout, turning and tossing your phone down the hallway.

Your grip at your hair and tug slightly, shutting your eyes you feel a hot tear slip out.

It had been a whole week since your father and uncle Marcus were deemed fugitives and accused of doing God knows what. It had been hard for you and Christine.

Knowing your father, you knew the allegations weren’t true, but another cover up, same as Captain Howard.

Still, you know it was bullshit meant nothing to the “adults” in charge. They saw him as guilty, and that seemed to be the end of it.

You turn, wiping away your tears and placing your ramen into the boiling pot of water.

It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could stomach these days, the fear of your family's future causing your appetite to slim.

You twirling the noodles in the water with a pair of chopsticks, watching the five minute timer chime by. It all but captivated you into a trance until a creak against the floor caught your attention.

You turn your head, peering down the hallway you had just thrown your phone. Staring into the darkness, you see a figure moving towards you slowly.

You gasp, grabbing a large knife and holding it out in front of you with shaky hands.

You would call for help, but unfortunately your phone was in harms way.

“Don’t come any closer,’ you squeak.

The figure doesn’t respond, it just trudges closer and closer to you until it’s emerged into your kitchen lighting.

At first, you have to squint real hard to make out who it is, but then, when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, so hauntingly like your own, you know who exactly it is.

Your brother, Armando.

You don't drop the knife, keeping it held high as you slowly approach him. You'd seen how vicious he was, and you weren't taking any chances with him.

Closing the space between you two, you could see that he's in full tactical gear, covered in blood.

He takes another step towards you, you step back, before collapsing onto the ground and passing out.

You rush towards his side. “What the hell!” You rip open his vest, finding all kinds of stab wounds and lacerations littering his body. “Armando!” You shake him.

He doesn’t respond, you shake him again, harder this time, and a tiny black book falls out.

You open the book and find your address on one sheet and another sheet addressed to you.

Don’t hate me, babygirl. I’ll explain everything soon, until then, you two lay low.

Be strong for me.

Love, Dad.

You could scream, you could actually fucking scream right now.

No way this motherfucker sends this other motherfucker to your house for you to nurse back to health.

You crumple up your father’s note, chucking it across the room.

Looking down at Armando, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unconscious.

It was obvious he was loosing blood, and you could let him bleed out and pretend you tried everything.

But then again, he saved your life before…and he didn’t even know you.

Guilt tugged in your chest at the thought.

“Fuck.” You breathed, throwing your head back.

You knew what you had to do.

You figured lifting him would be hard, he was bigger than you by a long shot and was basically deadweight.

You tapped him, shook him, slapped him…hard, but nothing woke him up.

Looks like you’d be operating on the floor.

You stood, gathering your curls in a pineapple on your head, and headed to your bathroom.

You grabbed all the first aid kit supplies you could find, fresh clothes, a blanket and pillow, before heading back out to the main part of your apartment.

You slipped on some gloves, cut open his shirt, and began working on his wounds, dressing them and putting on bandages.

Thank God for nursing school and clinicals.

It took you two bowls of ramen, a Celsius, and a whole heck of a lot of bandages and gorilla glue, but you got Armando mostly patched up.

You wiped the sweat of your forehead grabbing the pillow and blankets you’d grabbed.

You gently lifted his head placing the pillow underneath and the blanket on top of him.

Next to his body you placed the fresh clothes, Gatorade, protein bars, and a bottle of water.

When you finally stood, you felt woozy and in need of a shower and sleep yourself.

But before you crept off to take your shower, you stood over Armando, taking in his features.

His dark hair, his smooth skin, his nose, and lips. He looked like a Spanish version of your father and it was freaking you the fuck out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You walked away hoping your father’s explanation was coming soon because, you may have just saved his life on the conscious fact that he’d done the same for you, but he was still dangerous…and who knows what would happen to you when he wakes up.

The next morning, when you wake up, you creep out of your bedroom, peaking to see if Armando had moved at all.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

You release a heavy sigh, walking over towards his body.

You watch his chest rise and fall, faster than last night.

Good.

At least your dad couldn’t kill you for letting his son die.

You lean in a big closer to Armando, checking out his wounds from a far.

One wound had opened it seemed like.

You turn and grab the gorilla glue and a bandage of your counter.

Completely removing one bandage, you toss it to the side, pinching the skin of his chest while prepping the glue.

You’re just about to glue his would shut again, when his arm shoots up, gripping your wrist.

You scream, falling back on your ass.

Armando’s eyes shoot open and he sits up quick in a panic.

You crawl backwards, away from him, bumping into the cabinet .

Armando groans, rubbing his sore torso and arms.

His eyes skate across the room before they find yours.

He jumps back a little. “¿Qué diablos me hiciste?”

You swallow, holding your knees. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Armandos eyes widen then narrow. “Did you do this to me?” He says, accessing his bandages.

You hesitate to tell him the truth…would he be mad and hurt you again?

Armando must sense the hesitation. “I’m not going to hurt you,’ he groans, slowly standing up. “It’s just a question.”

You nod, backing away from him. “Yes…I did.”

Armando swipes up the bottle of water, chugging it, tossing it aside, and then going for the Gatorade. “Gracias.” He grumbles, heading towards your bathroom.

You stand, slowly following after him, still keeping some distance between you two.

Armando peers over his should, eyebrow raised. “Mike sent me, if you’re wondering.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”

“I never said that.” You clarify, even though he’s not wrong.

“Don’t need to.”

You frown. “Armand—,”

He slams the door shut.

“Great.” You roll your eyes. “Just fucking great.”

You slam your head against the wall, thinking off all the ways you would tell your dad off when you saw him next. But until then, it seemed you and Armando would be roommates.

So you should try and be cordial, right?

#fanfic #armando x black #mike and armando #armando fic #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #jacob scipio #Armando as a brother #Armando and Mike #bad boys ride or die #bad boys for life

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auttumnmai · 6 months ago

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Helloo

So for this thingy i always like the idea of a lineup and I always had like the idea of Alyas outfit(i own that dress) and like wanted to see how much i have improved since i started animation school.

Long time no see,so like after a whole semester and finally moving homes im kinda back with fanart,it’s crumbs ik,but in the moving my tablet got damaged and got stuck with my ipad(not a bad iPad btw, I just don’t have clipstudio). Also kinda wishing to post some of my school proyects but like consent stuff and literally ndas(thanks prof,now I cannot use months of assignments in my portafolio,not that I liked your story btw,it was so pointless,also who gaves that types of assignments to first years xd)so I have a few things to share but i do have to say that they are pretty boring and basic.

#mlb #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous fanart #mlb fanart #miraculous ladybug #adrien #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #miraculous nino #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #miraculous fandom

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rubyvhs · 3 months ago

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remedy (viii) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: you find sam ten years later, or he finds you, and things change forever— tags: major character deaths, 70% angst, i broke my own heart, case-fic, grieving, mourning, slow burn, praying, very long 13k, though it’s extremely fast paced. general surgeon!fem!reader.

ten years later

“Hey, Miss Moseley,” you call out as the older woman smiles at you and Emmy, it’s the same warm gesture every end of the week as you and your daughter pick up the groceries.

“Hey, sugar. How’s my little angel?” She leans down to kiss your daughter's head, seeing as you’d made it clear to every living, breathing person that no one gets to kiss her anywhere but there. “Oh and how’s Mark? I heard about the promotion he got, that’s wonderful, truly.”

It was unexpected, but yes, your husband got the biggest promotion of his career working at the law firm in town. Obviously you’ve never been prouder (except maybe when your oldest said ‘mama’ first) but it has been with its ups and downs. He stays later nights and it’s a lot more pressure, though now you don’t exactly live paycheck by paycheck, even if you haven’t been doing that anyways, but now you really don’t and you’re grateful.

“He’s great, thank you. You heard right, I'm proud of his hard work.” She shakes her hand around as if to tell you ‘who cares’ and you know the woman well enough to guess what she’s about to say next.

“And the pay?” Yeah, you were right.

“We’re grateful, Miss Moseley. Thank you for checking in.” You reply politely as the last of her things are ringed up and the cashier shops her away. She kisses your cheek as a goodbye as you ring your things up.

“She means well, you know.” The eighteen year old says from behind the counter and you can’t help but laugh. Not exactly at her, but, you know.

“Of course she does, Missouri is a sweetheart, we’re just not too sure about things ourselves. How are you doing in your senior year?” You deflect.

“‘M okay. Just passed my English final and Maths— Biology and Chemistry are what's left.” She replies, waving to Emmy. She laughs, waving back with an enthusiasm she saves especially for teenage girls. “Hopefully I can actually graduate this year.”

“You will, sweetheart,” you reassure, the nickname coming easy to you. It always did. “I’m sure of it. Call me anytime, okay?” She nods with a smile, handing you back your card and you carry the bags to the car.

Emmy’s holding onto your blue dress, with little white flowers all over it, the one you like to wear most of the time considering how hot it’s been getting. Though your older daughter doesn’t mind the heat (for whatever unholy reason), the rest of you are minding it a whole damn lot, you begged Mark to let you change practically your entire closet and he hadn’t argued much.

When the bags are in the trunk you strap Emmy in the back and turn on a country playlist Mark had made you a while ago. Though when you listen to it it reminds you of your days in Stanford.

As you park your jeep, you can feel your throat constrict and the tip of your nose redden. It’s hard not to notice the shiny black impala in your drive way. And it is there. Just there. Who put it there? Why would the universe torture you like this? What the hell even kind of joke is this—

“Mommy?” Emmy whines out, clearly starting to feel the effect of the heat with the A/C working only halfway.

“Yeah, baby.”

“Wanna show Daddy.” She says as she waves her iPad to show you the drawing she made. You should, in fact, go inside. And find out what the hell he’s doing in your house.

When you take Emmy’s hand it takes everything in you to control your breathing. You’ve been better than when you were in college. It had been— a rough couple of years to say the least, but you powered through them with a determination you didn’t know you had in you. Then you started your internship and found Mark, you had dated for a year before he proposed and of course you had said yes. Now, he’s coming back and he’ll— God, you just know that he’s going to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to bring together.

Emmy runs through the door and straight to her dad with a yell. “Baby, no shouting.” You lecture loosely, shutting the door behind you as the three men in your living room stand up to greet you, Emmy already forgetting about her drawing and running up to her room.

And that’s when you decide how you should approach it. It’s the only way nothing will turn sour. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You eye your husband, leaning in to kiss his cheek. You haven’t even looked at them yet but their presence is all consuming that you actually gulp before Mark puts a hand in your back so you’re facing them.

You find his eyes first. And it looks like he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time. You don’t hear a single damn thing your husband is saying because you and Sam are staring into the other’s eyes in a way that makes you think you may be cheating right in front of him.

Sam’s changed so drastically that it brings you to a violent halt. His hair’s the first thing you notice, it’s grown to just above his shoulder, and it’s tamer, no more of that shaggy haircut he had ruffled everywhere. It fits him with the black suit he has on, that and his height. You’ve grown maybe an inch, he looks so much taller. Maybe you’re imagining it, maybe he just looks that good, either way, it’s mesmerizing.

When Mark says your name twice you snap out of it, shaking your head with a hum.

“Agents Plant and Page.” Agents who the fuck now?

“Excuse me— what?” Your husband narrows his eyes at you, but when you don’t budge he lets out a small awkward laugh.

“I’m sorry, agents, it’s the heat, really bad this week and she gets these migraines.”

Sam nods, completely professional and understanding as he talks to your husband, “We understand. I know how migraines can be,” yeah, ‘cause you used to have them, “it’s no problem. We should get going, we’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

“Oh. I thought you said you wanted to talk to my wife. I can go get the bags from the car, leave y’all to it.”

“That’s really not—”

Dean doesn’t hesitate to cut Sam off, “Yes, that would be good. Thank you.”

Mark kisses your lips this time and you’re stunned for a second before kissing back, but it’s brief and he nods at the gentlemen in politeness before leaving. You’re left with both of them. “Dean,” You announce shakily, “Sam.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean smiles, like it’s nostalgic to see you, and you suppose it is. You’re not angry with either of them, especially not Dean. Despite his flirty nature, he hadn’t been rude to you and he’d respected you every time you met him. He moves past the coffee table to take your hand but you, to your absolute fucking surprise, pull him in for a hug.

Dean’s grown up too. He looks it, his voice is way lower, his stubble and those damn suits they're both wearing. He lets out a laugh, hugging back. “Haven't seen you in ages.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, releasing your grip to place a quick kiss in your hair. When he moves away, Sam’s standing behind him. He looks— all 6 foot something of him— awkward and unsure and it might be the most heartbreaking thing you’ve seen. Sam’s changed in appearance, he’s grown up, sure, but at Stanford he was confident. He wasn’t cocky but he knew his stuff and didn’t back down, this Sam’s curling up into himself the second you came in the room (or when you first bothered to look at him anyway).

“Hey, Sam.” You smile, repeating the same gesture you had with Dean, except it’s different, so so different with him. His hand’s on your waist, yours wrapped around his neck. The same way you hug everyone else. Then why does his embrace feel more intimate? And his cologne, God.

He pulls away a few seconds later (maybe, who know, it could have been hours).

“We didn’t know—”

“Yeah, I figured as much with the whole agents thing.” You’re not stupid, you’ve seen the news, Dean and Sam are wanted in some states, for a long list that you never bothered checking for the sole reason that you never thought you’d see them and you had such an exceptional picture of them in your head that you didn’t want to ruin it.

But the truth is, you also don’t believe that they would do it. Sam and Dean wanted for theft? Murder? you don’t buy it. Sam had told you how dangerous his job was, you know it has to come with consequences.

“So why are you here?”

“We’re investigating something.” You frown. No animal attacks here as far as you know.

“Investigating what?”

“There was a girl. She died in the neighborhood last year, Carla.”

Your face falls and you cross your arms in front of your chest. “Get out.” Dean’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in tone. “Get out, both of you.”

“Hey—”

“No, you’re joking. You came in here to ask my husband about his dead niece. And you made him think you’re fucking FBI, which is illegal by the way, Mr. Stanford Lawyer. And for what? Is this all just for fun?” You’re praying your voice doesn’t get too loud but you can’t help the pit of anger in your stomach. They can’t do this. They can’t.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” Sam speaks up, his eyebrows furrowed together. Sam speaks in a much lower tone than he did in Stanford. It’s less urgent, more patient and understanding. He’s listening more than he is talking. It’s a noticeable change from the man you once knew, “we’re trying to find out what happened to her, I swear. We’re here to help.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but there haven’t been any animals around lately so this isn’t up your alley— which by the way, fuck you both.” You don’t remember ever being this immature but damn it, do the Winchesters get a ride out of you. “You’re both lying to my husband and expect me to do what? Welcome you with open arms?” The fact that you did goes unsaid.

There’s a deadly kind of silence that overcomes the three of you. You’re waiting for an explanation, they’re looking at each other like they don’t want to give one, and your oldest daughter just woke up from her nap and is walking down the stairs. She’s on the last step, rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she notices the two big men in suits and frowns. “Mommy…” she mumbles, clearly ready to go back upstairs.

At least the kid has good instincts. “Hey, sweetheart.” You smile slightly, leaving both of them in the living room to walk over to her, kneeling down. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“Sound. Where’s daddy?”

“Outside. You wanna go and play with Emmy or are you gonna go back to sleep?” She shrugs, looks back at Sam and Dean then you, questions written all over her pretty little face. “Those are the police, they’re trying to help us. It’s okay, you can go back upstairs and I’ll bring you a snack, okay?” She nods and you get up, kiss her head, and let her run back upstairs.

When you face them, not moving closer, they both get the message. You want to say it’s easy, watching them walk to the front door, kicking them out, losing Sam again. But it isn’t. And you can’t help what you do next.

“Sam,” it’s just his name. That’s all you said, but God, you can practically feel how tense he just got, standing in place. He looks at Dean who nods in understanding and walks out of the house. Sam faces you, you’re closer than you think you should be.

“I never wanted to hurt you. Or Mark. And— Dean and I, we had no idea this was your house or that she was your niece—”

“Mark’s niece.”

“Right. We didn’t know. We asked around and they gave us Mark's last name, we thought it was a coincidence. And there’s no pictures—”

“I don’t like hanging pictures in the house.” You cut him off, not sure why you’re confessing like it’s a sin, but the need to explain yourself to Sam has apparently not gone away completely. He nods in understanding and sighs. “I didn’t mean to kick you guys out, I just hate how much you’ve lied to me, and I don’t even know why, I don’t even know what it’s about.”

He slips up, “Baby, I wish I could tell you—”

“You don’t get to call me that.” Maybe it’s Stanford all over again. Have you really grown up? Have you really changed for the better? Will you ever be able to let go of Sam? You haven’t thought about him for a long time, but seeing him in front of you— in fact you haven’t thought of him since you two broke up. Maybe you’re not mentally ready for this.

But more than that, you’re not letting anyone get between you and your husband.

“I know.” He groans, rubbing a hand over his face, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. I hope you guys find out what happened with Carla.”

Sam’s about to say something. A rebuttal, probably. Maybe then you can both have an actual conversation. But he decides against it and opens the door, walking out.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

You see him nod at Mark and Dean end the conversation with your husband to get back in the impala. You watch them drive off before shutting your eyes, grounding yourself. You need to calm down. Obviously, you told Mark that you talked to someone before, and had a brief relationship with them, it wasn’t a secret, but you don’t think he knows that it’s the same guy who just pretended to be FBI and talked to him about his niece.

“What did they ask about?” Your husband asks as he gets inside, Emmy on his right while he's holding two hands full of groceries.

“Carla. You didn’t tell them she was your niece?” Now that you notice it, they were surprised to find out Carla's in any way related to you and Mark. He shrugs and moves to the kitchen but you follow him with a frown. “Why?”

“‘Cause they wouldn't take it seriously. The police thought I was overreacting since we were related but the FBI actually listened, and they believed me. I don’t want them to think emotions are taking over.” And the mocking way he says the word makes your heart clench.

You fell in love with Mark pretty quickly— or, he fell in love with you. And you eventually did too, with the sweet gestures and the kind comments, he was an incredible man, an even better husband that you’re proud to call yours. But he also had some issues, and trouble when it came to his family. While you guys do live in the same neighborhood as them, he doesn't like them. And for good reason, they're assholes. But he does love them.

He isn’t actually an ‘emotional guy’ and to label him as such— well, Mark is old-school. He won’t do well with that. His manhood and all that— and you’re not even saying it in a condescending way, you know how he was raised, it’s the one thing he’ll never back down from. But he’s been so good to you over the past five years, you’ve had your ups and downs, of course you did, but you couldn’t think of a better husband.

Can you? Can you think of someone you’d love more and want to spend the rest of your life with more than Mark? The man who traveled all the way back to your home country to ask your father for your hand in marriage?

“I’m— I’ll get started on dinner. They seem like good people, and they’re looking into it.” You smile slightly, leaning up to give him a quick kiss, putting the groceries away, your oldest daughter has come down to even help you and spend time with Emmy.

And maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should just take it to the grave, but God, you can’t help but call Gen’s number when it’s ten and you’re on your couch all alone. Mark is out with friends, your kids are in their room and you can’t stop yourself from calling a number you’d left abandoned for a year. An entire year.

It rings once. Twice. And when you hear her voice through the speaker you bite back tears. “Hello?”

“Hey— hey, Gen.” A relieved sort of laugh comes from the other line and it eases you into the conversation if only a little.

“Hi, sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a while, how are Mark and the kids?” You were ready for an argument, and maybe that’s why you called in the first place, to get what’s been coming for you. You deserve it after you abandoned her when she needed you the most. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect normal with Gen. You don’t deserve it.

“Yeah. They’re okay. How about you and Rue?” As if the universe wanted to make a point, Rue, you guess, stole her mother’s phone from her hand and ran around with it, asking you how you’re doing and that she misses you. Rue’s almost six, but she’s as much of a troublemaker as she was at four.

“Rue’s fine!” She yells across the room, then she takes the phone and you can hear her better. “She’s great, just got into fifth grade, actually.”

You smile, the tears running down your cheeks without your consent. “That’s— great, Gen.”

She picks up on the crack in your voice and sighs. “Sweetie. Why’d you call now? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I feel so bad I haven’t called and I promise, I’m so sorry, Gen. You know I love her and I didn’t mean to do this.” you cut yourself off, scared you’re talking over her, but she doesn’t speak, letting you continue. “And I miss you and my little niece. I miss Rue and the kids, of course, they also miss her and I’ve been such a—”

“Nuh, uh. None of that here. You were grieving.”

You scoff, a hand slapping the tears away. “No, you were grieving.”

“Jess was as much of my girlfriend as she was your best friend. I’ve known her longer, but she was always your soulmate, and I never, for a second, held that against you.” It hurts knowing that what she’s saying is true. You don’t want to believe her because what have you done for her to love you this way? Unconditionally.

“I know. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t even say her name and I’m, I’m so scared. Even now, I’m always so scared, and I think about her all the time.”

“I think about her too…” you want to say you’re imagining the crack in her voice, that it’s a slip up that means nothing. But truthfully, Gen’s only ever cried with you. She’s not close to her parents and despite her multitude of friends, most of them had drifted after college. Not the three of you. Not you, Jess and Gen.

You wish you could say it stayed the same after Jess passed away, but you did leave her. and you can’t find it in yourself to say that you’d do it differently. Because you used your grief to be a good mother this past year, you spent so much time with the kids. Even with Carla gone too. You and Mark kept it together.

You’re not sure how seeing Sam broke you the most of the events.

“She loves you. I think— we just have to remember her love, right?” Gen sniffles and you imagine her nodding her head, a hand running through her hair like she usually is when she’s sad.

“Yeah. Yeah, sweetie, but—” Gen breathes heavily through her nose. “But why’d you call? You haven’t— it’s been a year, what’s going on?”

“I, uh, saw someone. Today.”

“Who?”

“Sam Winchester.”

“The criminal?”

Explaining to Gen about Sam pretending to be FBI and how he came to ‘investigate’ Carla’s death after being ‘wanted’ in a few states almost gives her a heart attack. You want to share her worry about the safety of your family when he’s in proximity, but Sam looked all but broken when he was standing at your doorstep.

“So I kind of threw them out and now they’re giving Mark hope again that they’ll find out what happened, but just— it sucks. He’s such a liar and I had no idea.”

“Yeah, but, maybe you should report it to the police, you know?”

You frown, shaking your head. “Police? He isn’t even wanted in here. I think it’s in… I don’t know Tennessee?”

“Still. He could be dangerous and he knows where you live now.” You aren’t sure what to think. Is she right? Is Sam dangerous? He doesn’t look it.

“Sure. Sure, Gen, I’ll see what I can do. I just, wanted to talk to you and maybe see if we can go out, you know? If you want, if you’re free.”

“Yeah. Of course. Next Friday? We can go to Lilo’s Diner, if you want.“ Before Jess passed away when you got married, you couldn’t help but find an apartment next to here’s and Gen’s. In hindsight, it was an impulsive decision since Mark told you to choose the location, but you couldn’t help wanting to be next to her. But the real kicker was that before you settled down, you had completely forgotten that where you are right now, Lawrence, Kansas, is Sam’s hometown.

“Yeah. That’s good, I don’t mind.” You both say your goodbye’s, and it’s a little tear-filled, but it gets the job done.

You’re not completely convinced that you’ll give Sam in, but you know you need to consider it. If your daughters are ever in danger… you don’t know you’d do. You sigh, getting up and dimming the lights. “God, I wish you could— I need help.” You’re done crying, you just need help, “just— please, i wish I could just— I love him but I don’t even know if he’s it for me, I wish I could think without him in the picture, fuck.”

And if cursing while trying to pray isn’t message enough for you to just go to bed, you don’t know what is.

“Mommy? Mommy!” You stir from your sleep. It’s been forced upon you to be a light sleeper since you’ve had your kids, and one of them shouting your name alerts you.

Emmy’s jumping on your chest, “Door. Mommy, door.” You groan, running a hand through your untamed hair and getting up groggily. At least she’s in a good mood for whatever reason.

You put on a shirt that you haven’t crumpled in your sleep and take a hair tie with you downstairs as you attempt to make it look decent, swinging the door open before you can ask who it is.

Oh. “Sam?”

“Good morning.” There’s no Dean this time, just Sam. Just very tall and intimidating Sam looking at your with the most innocent look you’ve ever seen but you still can’t help clutching your daughter to your leg, mumbling about her going upstairs but she doesn’t listen. “I— I’m sorry, I came to tell you about… Mark.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head in question and confusion because mark is upstairs, right? He’s in your bed, right next to you. You just hadn’t checked, that’s all. “What about him? He’s fine.”

Sam frowns, loosening his tie. Maybe you should loosen the collar around your neck. Where is Mark? He was just out with friends last night and you’d gone to sleep after praying, you must’ve missed his call telling you he’ll spend the night elsewhere. Except he’s never done that. Mark’s never spent the night anywhere other than right next to you since you’ve gotten married.

But it’s fine, you’re overreacting and Sam is here to tell you Mark was found drunk or something. He won’t get arrested. You need him. His kids need him. “Hey, hey, you with me? Mark’s— I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“What do you mean?” You’re out of breath even if you’ve just gotten out of bed, “what do you mean you’re sorry? What did you do? Where is he?”

Emmy’s tugging on your pants, even if you can hardly feel it, but you do feel Sam stepping into your house, his hands moving closer before you flinch a way from his touch, in a result Emmy’s hands is forced away from your leg. You apologize to your little girl, leaning down to scoop her in your arms.

“Mark’s—”

“Shut up, Sam. Stop it. Where is he?”

You can see his heart breaking, you can feel it. Maybe from his eyes alone, even. But it doesn’t even register to you, because why is he sad? What does he have to be upset about?

“They can’t find him. He’s… gone.”

“Gone where? Is he at work? It’s— only eight or something—”

“It’s eleven.” Your breath hitches and you shake your head. What does that even mean coming from a liar? Sam’s nothing but a liar, he always has been he’s—

“Where are the police?” he says your name, soft and you shout, “Where are the police?” Your daughter flinches at your tone and cuddles her head into your chest. “Don’t— I’ll report you. You and Dean, if you don’t tell me what you did. What did you do?”

It’s futile. They didn’t do anything. Deep down you know that.

But you’re not sure if you can listen to ‘deep down’ when your husband is not next to you. Calming and comforting you.

“Sam,” you breathe, putting her down, “Sam, where is he?” He doesn’t step closer, brushes a hand down his face, “Sam.” You try, one last time before you’re sobbing, hitting at his chest. “Where is he? Where is— Mark, where is he! Sam!”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t tell you that everything will be okay and that Mark’s only gone for the day. He holds your body close to his and you bury your head into his chest, your tears wet against your face as you fist your hands in his shirt. Your eyes burn, they’re hard to open. Maybe it’s for the best.

Your world doesn’t spin often, but when it does, you have Mark. You quit your first job, Mark’s there. You’re low on money, Mark’s there. Your kids seem like they hate you, he’s by your side.

What are you supposed to do now? What are you supposed to do other than pray for him back?

Because you did this. You prayed yesterday and now look what happened, he’s gone. Just like you wished for, even if you’d don’t really mean it then. You mean it now, to have him back.

Sam lets go of you eventually, to get you a glass of water and coax your daughter into her room. You’re not sure what the time is, just that your eyes couldn’t get more swollen if you tried, and you will.

“Here.” He hands you a cup and you don’t look up at him as he takes the seat next to you again making you briefly wonder if you’re having an out of body experience. You could be. You must be.

“I should call the police.” You say through sniffles and Sam sighs. “You should… go, I guess. Since you’re not real police.”

“I’ll stay. We talked to them anyways and they think we’re FBI so— ”

“But I’ll tell them.” It’s low. Defeated. Sam doesn’t speak for a second and you don’t want to imagine the look on his face. You can’t. “Just go.”

His scoff shouldn’t be as comforting as it is. “No. You’re not pushing me away when you need me.” He tilts your head up, his finger hooking under your chin, “I’m not leaving you again. Never again.”

“It’s— it’s not like that, right now. Sam, go.”

“Tell them. Call the police, make them come here, and tell them I’m not FBI, tell them my real name, I don’t care, they can arrest me when I know you’re okay.”

Is it fair to say you never want to be okay if it means Sam leaving? “My kids.” You whisper, as a thought. Something you put out there.

“Dean can take care of them if you want us to go to the police.” You nod, touching your cheek to check if you’re still crying. Your eyes are so raw you can’t even tell at this point. Sam takes his phone out to call Dean but you hold his wrist.

“Gen. Call Gen.” He gapes in surprise, is about to argue, but seems to see something on your face because he pulls up her number from your phone. You think she’s not going to respond as the phone starts to run out of rings but when she finally does you collapse with a sigh, one hand on your heart, the other holding Sam’s arm in support. And you’re fucking sat down.

“Gen. Hey, it’s Sam. Sam Winchester.” Shit. Shit. She doesn’t like Sam. Shit. “Yeah— oh. Yeah, she threatened already. Look, Mark’s gone and we can’t find him, she’s asking if you can come over and watch her kids.”

You don’t hear the conversation. You don’t hear except white static as you leave Sam on the couch and go to your kids’ room. Your oldest is on her IPad. The youngest is playing with her blocks. They both look at you expectantly for food and you give them a watery smile. “Aunt Gen is coming over. She’ll get you breakfast, okay?”

They both seem pleased, but your oldest isn’t stupid. She’s only four but Mark had been gifted as a child. Not enough to skip grades, but he was intelligent, both emotionally and academically. And apparently your oldest has inherited that because she walks up to you with a smile.

“You’re okay, Mommy.” You’re not sure if it’s a question or not but you wipe your face in case it’s showing anything other than that fact. “We will have fun with Genny.”

“No, baby, I’m going somewhere and then we’ll have fun with Genny, but you’re staying alone first.”

“I will take care of Emmy.” Your heart clenches as you nod quickly, taking her in for a hug so she doesn’t see the tears.

“Good job, Jess.” Even saying her name. She’s your daughter, she isn’t even really Jess but saying her name… you can’t do this right now.

When you get back down dressed for the station, Sam’s in the kitchen cooking. “I’m dressed. we should go.”

He looks back to see you are, in fact, dressed. He hands you a cup of water, “drink this and we’ll go.”

You frown but oblige anyway. You’re a doctor, it isn’t hard to tell what he’s doing, with the amount of tears you’ve cried, you’d think you’re dehydrated too. “I’ll text Gen that there’s omelets. She can make sandwiches when she’s here.”

You acknowledge the words, handing him the cup. He locks the door behind him just as Gen parks her car and it’s the calmest you’ve felt all morning. At least your kids will be safe. You give her a hug that lasts about two seconds then walk to the Impala as fast as you can, certain you won’t be driving in this condition.

The police station is a whirlwind of screaming and yelling. No one’s telling you enough, you need to know now, and you might have accidentally called Sam his real name once, though you’re hoping no one caught it. Four hours later you’re crying and shaking your head in the lobby.

The lady at the desk tries to calm you down while Sam talks to them inside, “Please, Miss, you need to remain calm while we—”

“My husband is gone, just off the face of the earth, how the fuck does that happen?”

“We’re not sure.” You look back hoping it’s Sam but find an older looking guy. Darker skin and maybe even a little taller than Sam? Though that must be impossible, they could be the same height. “His friends all say he was on his way home the last time they saw him and we found his car by a neighborhood next to yours but it was parked. He could have just went somewhere else.”

“I called him a thousand times on my way here and Mark never spends the night out of the house.”

“Have you considered a different possibility?” He asks, taking a step closer and you suddenly get intimidated by the demeanor if not his height, “maybe he did it on purpose. To spend the night somewhere else.”

“What on Earth is wrong with you? Are you all really that bad at your job that the only excuse you can come up with is him cheating? Who the hell gives you the right to—”

“We’re merely covering all our basis.”

“No you’re a bunch of—” Someone clears their throat so loudly it makes you jump. Jump right into their arms— into Sam’s arms.

“She’s worked up, considering.” The police, whoever the fuck that man is nods understandably and you’re ready to elbow Sam as you stare daggers at the one in front of you. “But she doesn’t make a point. It’s not likely Mister Davis is having an affair,” he moves your body out of the way to stand toe-to-toe with the man, “and even if he is, do you think it’s smart to threaten his wife with it?”

“Threaten? You’ve got it wrong, Agent.”

“Please don’t speak to Misses Davis again, it’s clear you can’t handle this case.” Sam places both hands on your shoulders to walk you out of the station and when you’re finally alone you slap his hands away.

“What the hell? What about Mark—”

“They don’t have anything on him. We called everyone, we tried to track his phone but it’ll take a while. Me and Dean tried tracking it before I came over anyway and we couldn’t find it, they won’t have better luck. They usually put them in warehouses so I told them to check all the ones in the area. Dean is on it too. Look, we need to talk.”

“Warehouse— what? Does now seem like the time for talking?” You scold. Even Sam's speaking in code.

“Did you… wish for something yesterday?”

Your heart slows. “Like what?”

“Like… wanting him gone.”

Your heart stops.

You tend to run things over in your head a lot.

“Mark? Mark, come back in, the kids don’t need—”

“No way. If my angel says she needs a cookie, we’re getting her a cookie.” You sigh affectionately, a smile threatening to split your face open. He’s been so good since you’ve gotten married, but you thought that would all stop the second you told him you’re pregnant. It couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s been more engaged, beautiful with your kids, even years later.

He’s the best father you could have dreamed of. He’s a damn good husband too, but Mark is… complicated. His family is complicated. He grew up in such a toxic environment that during the first year of dating him, he’d cursed you out in front of his entire family. You got married anyways, he’s a good man, and you know he is. He’s changing slowly, trying to better himself because he has you.

And it isn’t even something he’s just ‘saying’, you know that because now? Four years later, Mark would eat up anyone in his family that says one word about you, whether it be one of his sisters or one of his brothers’ wives.

Two hours later Mark comes back with Jess and two boxes of cookies. When you put Jess to bed he hands you a box of your favorite chocolate, the expensive kind. And it isn’t like you’re broke, you’re doing okay to spoil yourselves every once in a while, but you’re also saving up for when the kids grow up since you know they’ll be more demanding than they are now. So while it didn’t put a dent in anything, it was unnecessary. But he did it. He did it and he kissed you and you’re pretty sure that was the night Emmy came into your lives. Or would be coming in nine months.

Sometimes you wish you could stop ruining things over in your head.

“Come back to me, fuck, come back.” Sam’s saying your name over and over as your eyes flutter open. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” You groan, a hand coming up to touch your head before he stops you. “What happened?”

“You blacked out and fell on the concrete. They did an X-ray, it came back okay but you’re not eating enough. Don’t touch your head though.”

“Why?” you reply stubbornly though you're grateful he cared enough to get you to the emergency room as fake FBI. Speaking of, you guys should probably head out. “Doesn't matter, let's go home. I'll pay the—”

“I already paid, let's go.” you frown as he helps you up. Thankfully, you don't need any assistance walking, not that Sam gets the message, his hand on your lower back as he nods at the receptionist.

The car ride is as silent as you expected it to be with your multitude of questions. About Mark, Sam, your kids. About everything. The most important one is where the hell is Mark, but every time you think of that you're back to crying. The second is where did Sam get the money to cover your bill? Seeing as he's not a lawyer or anything.

“You okay?” He asks, giving you a glance before his eyes are back on the road. He must realize how stupid the question is because he follows it up with: “We’re going to find him. I promise.”

“Yeah.”

“Dean’s already—”

“How? How are you and Dean— I don’t even know if Dean went to college,” no offense, he just doesn’t look the type, “and you all but dropped out of law. On what earth will the two of you find my husband?”

“Look—”

“Real answers!” You scream, slamming your hand down on your leg, the friction from your jeans sting as you take it back. “Real answers Sam, or I swear God…”

He sighs, parking on the side of the road. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“You passed out.”

“Try me, because my husband is missing and I left my kids with Gen who I haven’t seen in almost a year and now I’m sitting next to Sam Winchester from Stanford—”

“It’s a curse.”

“What.”

When someone says something is a curse they usually follow it up with trying to sell you some oils for way too high that will ‘break the curse’. But that’s not what Sam is doing. Sam is talking to you like it’s logical. Like he’s sane. He’s telling you, with a straight fucking face, that monsters are real and that after he was born here a witch placed a curse on the town.

He’s not trying to sell you anything except that this is the truth. To him, this is real. And he’s looking at you like you’d be stupid not to believe that a witch placed a curse on an entire town so that whatever someone wishes, it comes true.

You wished for better mental stability everyday but that never came.

“Sam,” you sigh sympathetically, “look, I don’t know what happened before you graduated, but you’re a good man, you should not let—”

“What? No! What I'm telling you is real! Monsters and werewolves, vampires, witches, they’re all real. Now you need to think before you answer, did you wish for anything yesterday? Anything regarding Mark?”

“Wish? Are you— no! Of course not.”

“Please, you need to level with me here. Anything at all.” You should get out of the car, slam the door right in his face, and tell everyone that Sam Winchester— straight A student in Stanford— has officially gone crazy. And you’re witnessing it first hand.

You don’t end up doing any of that except for slamming the door in his face. That, he deserves. For lying and for finding you and giving you hope about your husband when he’s obviously gone crazy and for making you leave your daughters when you could be with them right now.

He gets out of the car, and when you glance over at him he looks like he’s going to try and convince you of something again but his eyes widen. When you face whatever it is that he’s staring at— it’s just Missouri.

“Missouri?” He asks, frowning and you start to notice that this is, in fact, his hometown. He probably knows a lot of the older locals. “What are you doing here? I thought we told you to stay inside ‘till we find whoever cursed the town.”

Now you’re really confused. Where on earth does get off playing with an old lady’s head? “I know you did not just call me old, sweetie.”

What. The. Hell.

“See!” Sam can’t help but let out with a relieved sigh. As if that actually shows anything other than you’re seriously creeped out.

“No reason to be creeped, darling, but Sam’s right. Monsters exist and a witch did curse this godforsaken town.”

“How did you—”

“I’m psychic.” Right. And you’re Beyoncé.

“I wouldn’t count on it. I heard you sing early in the morning and even the birds couldn’t take it.”

“Rude— and also how the fuck—”

“I can read minds. Though I don’t usually, it seemed like the only way to get you to believe poor Sam. He’s a good man,“ he seems to be getting told that a bunch, “and he only means to help. Him and Dean are hunters.”

Is the sun too hot? Probably, considering it’s the sun. Maybe you should sit in the shade. Or pass out. Passing out sounds better than finishing this conversation. Missouri sighs, a hand on Sam’s cheek. “It was good seeing you, sweetie. Get her home and tell her everything she needs to know. She gets migraines—”

“I know.”

“Good. Get her anything she needs but especially some cold air.”

“To sum it up,” you gulp down the rest of your cup before facing Sam, “Monsters are real. You’re a hunter. Your dad died, and Dean never went to college?”

“Sure, I guess. Is that all you got? That’s a very… random summary.”

“Right but if Dean’s never went to college and Monsters are real, I think the apocalypse starting really doesn’t sound that far-fetched.” Apparently by monsters he also meant Angels. And prophets. And too many things he just told you— like Lucifer and Micheal the archangels and so so so many things.

He chuckles, refilling your glass. “What is it with the Dean and college thing with you.”

You shrug, taking the cup with a small thanks. You’re probably going to need to go to the bathroom soon with how much he’s been keeping you hydrated. “I don’t know, he seems smart, I’m surprised ‘s all. can we call him and ask what he found yet?”

Sam’s face falls like you slapped him and he sighs. “The wish— I’ll tell you what I think happened, okay?” Not okay. “You wished for Mark to disappear or to go yesterday while he was coming back from the night out and the witch— the way her curse works is that she has demons working for her. Demons chained to this town to do her dirty work for her—”

“Sam, people wish for a million dollars everyday, they don’t actually get it.”

“These are demons, it isn’t ’you wish for something’, you get it. It’s ‘you curse someone out’, they get it.” You didn’t mean to curse him out. You hadn’t even really wished for anything, just prayed. And the praying wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t like you wanted Mark gone, you just wanted answers for whatever’s going on in your heart. “Carla,” Sam runs a hand over his mouth, like it’s paining him to tell you this, to explain to you why your niece died. “A teacher cursed her out in school the day before she was gone.”

No. No, there’s just no fucking way. Missouri is almost eighty something, why on earth would she lie, though?

“Please, I know it’s scary and it’s hard to believe but I need you to trust me. What did you wish for yesterday?”

“I— I don’t even remember—”

“Anything. Anything at all—”

“I wished he was out of the picture.” His breath hitches. Yours almost comes to a stop. “But— I wasn’t wishing, I was praying. I asked— I prayed that I could think clearly without thinking of him. I didn’t want him to go, Sam, I swear—”

His eyes soften as he pulls you to his chest, “I know. I know, sweetheart.”

Maybe the crying won’t ever stop.

“Dean found the witch. Or at least he thinks. We can’t kill the demons until the witch breaks the chains so I’m going to go help him follow the lead, are you okay to stay alone?” Sam says when he comes back into the room after a short phone call with his brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not fine. You’re nowhere near fucking fine. You’re the furthest point away from ‘fine’. But Sam is going to… go kill demons? Play dress up with Dean? Who knows anymore. So you let him go with a goodbye and ’stay safe’. As you close the front door, you give it your back and Jess is standing there with her school book in hand.

“Where’s Daddy?”

Oh. God. You don’t even— you can’t possibly think of a way to tell your kids their father is gone. The entire time Sam had explained the supernatural thing, not once had he brought up that Mark might still be out there somewhere.

How do you tell your daughter you killed her father?

“Jess, dad’s out right now. He’s very sick, and we can’t see him ‘till he gets better.” She frowns, tilting her head in question— you’re sure you have no answers to cover it. “but ‘till then, we’ll…”

Maybe you should be holding yourself together a little more for your children. They shouldn’t see you break apart because who will take care of them? But it hits you. You’ve spent the whole day looking for Mark and being so sure he’s out there somewhere that you believed Sam when he said he was taken by a demon.

But the fact of the matter still stands. Mark is gone. Your husband is gone.

And maybe it shouldn’t hit you so hard when you killed him.

The next four hours go by in a blur. Your kids are fine, they’re drawing and coloring. They’re happy they get to miss school today and you’re pacing the halls, wishing you’d taken up Gen on her offer to stay with you. How did she get through this? How did she get through this alone?

You haven’t even called your parents, or Mark’s. His siblings. A funeral. This is so real. It’s happening, you’re losing— you lost your husband. He’s gone and you didn’t even get a warning. Where was your warning?

Maybe you should lay down for a few hours. Your starting to see things move around in the windows.

It’s officially freak-out-hour. Twelve AM. You call Sam twice before he answers.

“I think my house is haunted.” You’ve never found your voice that shaky in your life.

“You what? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine. In their room, but the lights keep flickering and I keep seeing something moving.”

“Shit. Do you have salt? A lot of salt?”

“Some. Enough for food, I haven’t stocked up for a demon battle.”

“Get as much as you can and make a circle. Ghosts can’t cross salt circles.”

“What if it’s a demon?”

“There are— are you sure? Are you sure there’s something? Did you piss anyone off today?”

You think. Hard. “I don’t—” Oh. “The police station guy.”

“No, no. Fuck! Make the circle, get in it, I’m on my way.” He hangs up and the circle comes out uneven and sloppy. You’re shaking so much by the time you’re done you don’t notice it’s only small enough to fit your kids. When you go check on them, they aren’t in their room.

“Jess? Emmy?” Sam’s voice wakes you up from your nap against the hard wall. That’s why your head is pounding. “Hey, hey, where’s mommy?” That’s all you hear before his heavy steps run up the stairs and he finds you in the hallway.

“Fuck. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, hoping to ease him, though that’s the least of your concerns. “Are they okay? Are Emmy and Jess okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he breathes out, leaning down to engulf you in a surprising hug that you return with no hesitation. You were hallucinating. You never thought you’d be so thankful for hallucinating. “Are you,” he’s shaking. His words anyways, his hands are too still for your liking. “Are you okay? I tried calling but you didn’t answer, and I came here as fast as I could. I thought something happened to you—”

“I haven’t eaten, and I’m so tired—did, did you kill the witch?” You sound crazy. You sound stupid and twelve.

And yet, the second his soft, “Yes.” Is out, you visibly relax in his arms. He’s holding you, your head on his chest, and it’s the calmest you’ve felt in the past twenty four hours.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“How do I know you’re real? How do I know you’re not… a monster or possessed.”

“Tests,” he sighs. Sam always looked like he wanted to keep his real life away from you, keep you at a distance, so the more you ask, the more he feels a part of him breaking. He wanted better for you.

“Shapeshifters burn up in contact with silver, like your ring,” he interlaces your fingers together and his skin doesn’t sizzle. “Demons show themselves if you say ‘Christo’.” You look up but there’s nothing. He’s still there. “Ghosts will leave the person they’re possessing if you hit them with rocksalt.”

“They can possess people?”

“Only really powerful ones.”

“There should be a crash course on monsters.” You frown, leaning in closer, like maybe you don’t need a crash course. Just him. Just Sam.

He lets out a small laugh, a polite one, but you feel it against your head and it brings you so much relief, you’re scared what you’re going to do when he’s gone.

Because he will be gone. He will go and he’ll leave you and you’ll have to deal with—

“Hey, hey, calm down for me. What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, but all it does is run tears down your cheeks, “I have to tell Jess and Emmy. Emmy’s so young and she wouldn’t understand, she’ll just want Daddy, what am I supposed to say, Sam? And Jess… she asked about him. I killed—.”

“No, stop it, don’t. You were thinking. A thought, that’s all. I bet he thought the same thing a hundred times, it’s normal, you’re married, it’s just unfortunate a demon heard yours.”

You’re still scared, that doesn’t really comfort you. You’re sharing your earth with demons. Demons. That came from hell. Which means hell, heaven, they exist and mark is in one of them right now.

You end up telling your oldest with tears in your eyes and Jess comforts you instead of crying. She’s telling you ‘it’s okay’ and ‘daddy loves you’. And you’re thinking what you did to get such a beautiful and inspiring daughter. She even brushes your hair out of your face like you do for her when she’s crying.

You tell her the same. Her daddy loved her, and that she should tell you how she feels when she’s decided. Anytime Emmy asks about Mark you tell her he’s up in heaven and she frowns. It’s fine, you didn’t expect her to get it this young anyways, but… it’s unfair that she has to.

The past 48 hours have been hectic to say the least, devastating, too. Sam hasn’t left your side during them. Despite him being tall and somewhat scary if you look at it from a four-year-old‘s point of view, your kids have only asked a couple of questions. You don’t think they noticed that he went from ‘police’ to ‘mommy’s friend’, and you’re grateful.

Gen ran over to your house the second you called her to tell her what you know. You don’t get into detail, just that Mark’s gone. He’s— God, you can’t even say it, he passed away. What kind of shit term is that anyway? Passed? To where, heaven? Hell? How are you supposed to know?

Does Sam know? If Sam told you angels are real it must be because he’s met them… right? And he met the archangels, surely he has connections— what are you saying! You’re talking about Sam having connections with God? Who, by the way, Sam didn’t mention.

Gen holds you as you sob into her arms in your own room, Sam sitting with your children. They’re so innocent and fragile, you don’t want them to see you crying incase they think they have to, but the truth is, you’re severely dehydrated and you’re sure you’re losing your job at the hospital since you haven’t called to say you’re not coming in.

It’s a gut-wrenching 48 hours. Who knows what the next will bring.

When you sober up from the frenzy you’re in, you call your parents, then Mark’s siblings. His father died years ago and his mother has amnesia so that’s one less conversation you have to go through.

You only call his second oldest sister, she cries before you finish your sentence and promises she’ll tell the others. You can’t. You know you can’t.

Gen tries to talk to you about Sam, you shut her down pretty quick. “Can you take the kids during the funeral?”

“Sweetie, I should come with you…” You shrug just as Sam makes his way to the kitchen where you’re both talking. Gen shoots him daggers as he walks over to you, hand on both your shoulders. “What—”

“The kids are asleep, I think. Dean needs me back at the motel so I’ll go check on him then come back, does that sound okay?” You nod absentmindedly. All you heard was that Sam’s leaving, and even if every part of your body doesn’t want that, he’s been your rock through all of this, you know you have to let him go.

“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour.” He places a kiss on your hair that helps you relax, like most of his touches do, and when he leaves the kitchen, Gen is right on his heel.

You hear them raise their voice and argue before he leaves. All you can think is that you hope the kids don’t wake up.

You hope you wake up from this nightmare.

Who decided black was a good color for funerals? It’s so… depressing. As if you all aren’t already dispiriting the entire house with your tears, now you’re all blending in with the kitchen supplies too.

You hold his sisters the most, or they hold you, either way there’s some type of holding going on and it’s therapeutic for both of you. The oldest looks like she hasn’t stopped sobbing since yesterday. Since you told them all about it.

The police announced that he’s dead when you went to check again, and said there was a serial killer on the loose, the same guy who killed Carla, and they found a body in one of the warehouses. Which is total bullshit because demons wouldn’t throw a body in a warehouse, they’d probably… take it to hell?

Sam told you that it’s him, since you didn’t want to confirm it yourself, and you told his family that you were the one who confirmed it. You’re not sure how much of a bad person that makes you since none of them offered to check for you instead.

Sam stayed with the kids in Gen’s house with her kid so maybe they did figure something out when they were screaming at each other, not that you care. You trust Sam.

He’s the only person you trust.

There’s soft music thrumming out the speakers, though you lower the sound so people in the house can talk. One of the siblings brings their mother and you break down at the sight of her. She knows she has kids, she knows Mark, hell, she talks about him all the time. But more than that she loves you. His parents loved you the most out of their in-laws and while it created a rift in the family, it never did anything but humble you. You loved his dad, you were the first to get to his house when you heard what happened.

But seeing his mum— that you couldn’t take.

It’s a few hours before they decide to leave. His brothers, both of them, come up to you asking about burying the casket. They’re doing it right next to his other brother and father. It’s family ground, or whatever it’s called.

You tell them you haven’t made any arrangements. They tell you not to worry. You hug both of them even if they did nothing to ease your concerns, at least that’s one less responsibility.

Gen holds your hand as you pace from the kitchen to the living room. There are kids, his family's kids, his friend’s kids, they’re all walking around, and you shouldn’t feel like this, you know that, but you can’t help the apprehensive emotions circling your heart and squeezing tight.

The brothers leave to make the arrangements and everyone who isn’t immediate family has said their prayers and goodbyes. You’re all alone. Not that alone considering he has seven sisters and each one of them has at least three kids (one of them actually has 5 kids and two grandkids), but alone enough that none of you feel like you should socialize. Everyone’s in their own circle, you’re lying your head on Gen’s chest, hoping this horror show will end if you just close your eyes. Maybe you’ll hear his voice again, but it doesn’t happen.

Except you hear his voice with every breath you take saying you’re the one who killed him. You’re the one who murdered your husband.

One Week After

“Jess, I swear to God, if you’re not done with your spelling homework—”

“She’s done.” You hear Sam’s voice get closer as he enters the kitchen and you nod softly at him. He frowns at you.

And you know why.

“I helped her finish it.” He continues, walking up to you to greet you with a kiss to your head, but it’s not genuine. As much as Sam tries, his movements are all strained and it’s your fault. You haven’t stopped wearing black.

“When did you come in?” You leave your door open most of the time in case one of his sisters comes to check up on you, or… or if Sam does. It gives his sisters comfort that you’re leaving your house open for them. The brothers haven’t spoken to you much since the funeral, but you know they’re grieving. Mark’s older brother lost his daughter and his brother in the span of a year.

“Just a few minutes ago. Are you cooking?” You nod, looking away to check on the pasta. It’s a simple dinner, most of them have been since last week. You finally called the hospital yesterday and just as you were about to get a lecture from your attending, you told her what happened. She gave you an extra week off and you couldn’t reject it if you wanted to.

“Pasta and Chicken tenders— it’s stupidly basic. I used to make it when we first got married, you know,” you let out a small humorless laugh, “and he hated me for it. Told me he’s a man and that he would starve if that’s what I thought food was. I learned how to make every dish his mother knew right then and there.”

Sam chuckles at your memory and it gives you a warm fuzzy feeling that you wish you could push away. These feelings aren’t supposed to be for Sam. You suppose in a way they aren’t. A pet of them, the majority, belong to the story, the fondness behind it. Imagining him sitting on the sofa of your old house scolding you half-playfully about the importance of meals the second week of your marriage.

“So why’d you come over?” He shrugs, sits down on the chair in front of the counter that’s facing you. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner. Emmy already likes you. I don’t know about Jess.”

“Right. She’s a hard one to open up.” You smile at the description of your daughter, because it’s the truest thing you’ve heard. With the mention of that— maybe it’s time to address the elephant in the room.

You spin back, hands clasped together and you spit it out, “I didn’t see you at Jess’s funeral.”

His face drops, which makes your stomach drop but whatever. You have to talk about this. He probably has as many questions as you do, since you’re not aware of anyone keeping in contact with Sam.

“I didn’t attend. It was hard for me.” You furrow your eyebrows, unclasping your hands to fold them against your chest. “I mean… I didn’t talk to anyone after Stanford. I mourned. ‘Just didn’t see a point in showing up.” That’s a shitty excuse. And you hope he knows it too because you looked for him.

You searched for Sam at that funeral, you even asked about him when a few students came. God, even Brady came. How fucked up is it that Brady showed up and not her best friend. “Did you even keep in contact with Jess when you left?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

No. You were heartbroken when you and Sam split up. “We didn't really bring you up.”

“Right. We did, for a couple of years, but I moved around a lot and I got a new phone every few months. Eventually she got a kid and we just lost contact.”

“What about when you… you know, got convicted and stuff.”

“I— not exactly, you know what Dean and I do, we’re trying to help people, but we can’t just walk around telling them we think there’s a vampire in the neighborhood. FBI, police officers, they trust those people.” You nod. It’s still not an answer. He notices. “Yeah, she still talked to me after, I’m not sure she even knew. I mean, you had to really be up to date with the news to hear our names.”

“No, you just had to live in Lawrence and give two shits about your surroundings. We’d be lucky if Jess even opened her phone to check for something productive, ‘s probably why she never found out. Gen got scared when Jess died, really paranoid for Rue, so she took it upon herself to stay informed. Your name came up a time or two.”

He sighs, scrubs his hand down his face and gives you his back to rest his elbows on the counter. You don’t mind, liking the silence as you stir this, taste that. Cooking’s been an excellent distraction for life lately. Even if it’s the most basic thing to exist.

Sam ends up staying for dinner but Jess stares at him with questions as she sticks to your side. She also has the biggest look of betrayal when Emmy asks him to hold her. She enjoys how tall he is and he doesn’t seem to mind it. By bedtime, you decide to talk to Jess about him.

“Why don’t you like Sam?”

“He’s a giant, and he made daddy sad.”

Oh. “When he was here with the other police?”

She nods.

“He didn’t make daddy sad, sweetheart, he asked about Carla.” Who is also in heaven. Seems like they have a couple of slots open.

You speak to her a little more, about Sam, about school tomorrow, about daddy and how she misses him, you miss him too. He probably misses you two the most. You kiss her head before shutting the lights off and running downstairs to wish Sam a goodnight.

Until you notice him half asleep on your couch, his head resting on his own shoulder in a way that could never look comfortable. You bite your lip in anxiety.

On one hand, you care for Sam and you don’t want him to drive tired. On the other, what if someone sees him spending the night?

What if one of Mark’s sisters comes unannounced?

You decide to suck it up and be a good person, patting him lightly. “Sam, Sam,” he suddenly sits up straighter, slightly disoriented, “C’mon, let’s get you on a bed.”

He pouts his lips like has more to say but ends up listening to you anyways. Halfway up the stairs he remembers his manners. “Oh. Oh, no, no—”

“You’re already halfway up the stairs, let’s just go.”

“I won’t intrude, I’ll just get back to the motel, I don’t know why I crashed like that.” You put a hand on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes intensely to give your best ‘no bullshit’ look.

“Sam Winchester, if I have to convince you not to drive half asleep, I will force feed you sleeping pills. Got it?” He lets out a laugh before pulling you in a hug. And he’s one step below you so your head fits perfectly in as you tuck it in his neck.

“Thank you.” You shouldn’t cry again. It’s already been one hell of a week without adding non-Mark related crying. You shouldn’t. But you cry yourself to sleep anyways.

Two Weeks After

“So, how have you been holding up?” You look up from the papers you’re filling to your co-worker. One of the interns that started the same time as you. You’ve gotten quite close with Sage, he’s been a great friend, no matter how little you both talk.

“‘M okay. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You smile tightly before nodding and giving the papers to the nurse.

“Thank you.” You walk away but he follows after you, considering you’re both heading to the same destination, the parking lot. Your first shift back finally in over a week you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Do you want a ride home? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.”

“No, thank you.” He’s being polite, you know that, but you’re not going to act the part of the widower. You’re fine. Your head’s still above water as much as anyone’s concerned. (Except Sam and Gen.)

Three Weeks After

Your mother is calling again. She won’t stop calling, and you can’t keep canceling. “Good morning, mum.”

There’s no one in the entire world that you love more than your mother. She’s your soulmate, she’s your best friend, she’s your biggest supporter. She’s everything you need and want in a person. She’s the only person who pulled you back from sinking when Jess died.

“Morning, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m good, how about you and dad?”

She laughs as your father greets you, asking you where you’ve been. That you should call more often. That they’re there for you.

Yeah, that’s the problem.

Five Weeks After

“You’re… self-sabotaging. You don’t want to be happy, you don’t want to be okay.” The second the words leave Sam’s mouth, you try to kick him out with yelling. When that doesn’t work, you hit his chest with your fists, when that does nothing but make him barely stumble, you push yourselves onto him in an attempt to throw him off his balance, instead he holds you as you cry.

What does he know? You’re grieving! You’re mourning. You miss him every single day and second and when his siblings gave you his inheritance you broke down so hard they were scared they’ll have to bring you to a hospital.

He’s right. You’re going through the motions. Your kids ask you why they don’t go to the park on Friday. Your co-workers are worried for you. Gen cooks for you as much as she can. You killed him. You’re not— are you? You are.

“I don’t— want to. I don’t…” he shushes you, with reassuring ‘i know’ and ‘don’t worry, sweetheart’. When you’re calm enough to speak, you apologize for his tear-drenched shirt. And he gives you numbers for different therapists.

Later that week you tell Sam you won’t be doing therapy, but if he wants to help you, you’ll try. He says it’s enough compromise and he gives you a list of things to do.

Make food that’s actually food. Work extra hours (you’ve been going under your normal hours the past three weeks). Friday park dates for the kids. Saturday lunch dates for you and Gen.

Seven Weeks After

You start wearing blue. Your favorite dress with small white flowers on it. You like how you look and it forces you to shave everything you’ve been neglecting lately.

It’s time for you and Gen’s lunch date when you get a call from Sam. “I’m outside.”

You tell him you’ll be right down, spraying on perfume before running down to get your kids. “Hey, Jess, Emmy.” You capture their attention and they put down the iPad to stare at you. Maybe it’s your dress. “Sammy’s outside.” It’s the nickname Emmy’s given him and it makes your heart absolutely melt. “He’s going to drive you.”

On your lunch dates you opt to leave your kids with your sister-in-law, the one you're closest to, anyways. She’s the youngest brother’s wife. But you’re running late and Sam offered to drive them himself. You’ve never left your kids alone with Sam anywhere other than in your house, where they’re comfortable.

His car… It's worrying.

You trust Sam completely and he’s been by your side every day for the past seven weeks but these are your children there’s just no way you’d neglect their feelings like that. But he convinced you that he’ll let them call you the entire time so they’re relaxed and you agreed.

You started locking your door.

Six Months After

“When’s Sammy coming?” You shrug, plating the Mac n’ cheese Jess requested. Today, Emmy is two whole years old.

It’s the first birthday you’re celebrating without Mark. And Sam offered to bring Gen and keep you both company. You’re still close to his family, you’re there once a week, if you can, but you’re slowly falling back to your routine, so you’re about to limit it to once every two weeks. The way Mark liked it.

The way you like it.

You’re picking up more shifts and making more elaborate dishes. One of your attendings told you if you keep putting in the work, he’s thinking of taking you in Cardiovascular. Your first choice would’ve been OBG-YN but if Cardio is what you’re the best in, you’ll take it.

Once all three of you are done and putting your plates away, the doorbell rings and you smile when Emmy runs over. You keep an eye on her as she waits for Jess to open the door. Sam and Gen are loud as they enter your house, hugging the kids. Sam picks Emmy up, teasing her about being two as they make it to the kitchen.

You lean in to hug Gen. Then Sam greets you like he always does, a kiss to your head. Emmy, being the adorable two year old, drops her face to do the same and Sam has to bring her back up with a smile to both your faces.

“Mommy they got velvet! My favorite!” Jess squeals, peeking at the cake and you look at both of your friends with a grateful look.

Mark’s inheritance wasn’t even split upon you and anyone else, it’s all for you. And you’d been saving for a while too, so you’re set. Including your work, it’s going great, but they still insisted on being the ones to bring the cake.

“Okay, we watch frozen first then cake, right, baby girl?” Sam asks Emmy and she smiles, hollering in excitement. He puts her down so she, Gen and Jess can all go put the movie on, he holds you in place. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to you, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. And it’s weird that you know exactly what that means. “I’m better, I guess. Jess and Emmy still talk about him and— I made Mac n’ cheese today— but only because Jess wanted to—”

“Sweetheart, cooking was never about making it big, it was about what made you happy. And you’re happier when you make a big meal, I want you to feel that happiness again.” Maybe. Whatever. You still failed today, but it’s fine. “You did amazing today.” He tilts your chin up and you're forced to focus on his hazel-green eyes, “I’m proud of you. And you look beautiful.” He gestures to the pink top you have on, intricate lace design at your chest then it’s silk down till you tuck it into your jeans.

A little dressing up was in order if you’re having a mini party. Even your kids and Rue are all in dresses.

Sam walks you out to the couch, settles in next to you on one side and Jess on your other. Emmy alternated between all three of your laps.

Maybe you did amazing today.

One Year After

You call your mum as you practically bounce off the walls of your house, biting your lip so you don’t squeal like a five year old (no offense to Jess).

“Mommy?” You jump the second she answers, “I got a job with Doctor Mendez!” And because you speak to her at least four times a week about him, she’s aware of who he is, the Cardiovascular Attending at your hospital. The one who’s due to retire any day now and is looking for a replacement. While he didn’t say it exactly, you’re the only student he picked to teach!

“Really? Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Oh my God!” You gush over the entire thing to her in a phone call that lasts a little over an hour. Your dad congratulates you too and you run to pick up Jess from football practice so you can tell her too.

She hugs you, although she doesn’t seem to care, and tells you all about her new coach.

You pick up Emmy from the nursery and one of the moms with a son who’s taking an internship at your hospital congratulates you.

For some reason, you break down the second you’re home. “Thank you for— not hating me.” You smile through tears. “I don’t think I would’ve even cared to get this far if I thought you hated me. I love you, Mark, I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you and tell you everything.”

But for once while you’re talking to him, they’re not hostile tears or sorrowful. You’re content.

And not to some extent either. You’re fully content.

Especially when Sam knocks on your door. Your Saturday dinner with him and Gen is tomorrow and you mentioned that you need new clothes to which he decided to make a day of it. Jess decides she wants to hang out with Rue and Emmy follows her sister wherever she goes.

You dust yourself off and open the door. You don’t expect this many emotions when you see him. But they’re there. And they’re really really there.

“Hey.” He smiles, walking in. “Are the girls ready? I parked in the driveway but if they’re gonna take a while I can park it—”

“Why are you still here?” You see his face drop before you scramble to correct yourself, “I meant, you kept saying you move a lot and with Dean, hunting, whatever— but you’re here. It’s been a year and you’re still living in a motel, Sam.”

“I’ve actually, uh, bought an apartment. A while ago.” You can hear your heartbeat In your ears, “It seemed cheaper to just rent an apartment since… since I’m living here.”

“You’re living here— since when? What about Dean?”

“He’s settling down, too. Cicero, he’s living with his girlfriend and her kid.” You’re not supposed to cry again. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I’ll stop coming over if you—”

“No,” you smile, “no, that’s just. I’m so happy for Dean, he deserves it, you know? Sam, look, I don’t know him well, I barely knew you before you both showed up as cops on my doorstep, but you’re not the same men that I hung out with in Stanford, you guys look so— and I mean this in the most loving way possible— exhausted. I wanted to ask, but it never seems like the time, you know? Just know I want to know about everything. Anything you want to tell me, I want to know. You mean a lot more to me than I ever let on.”

Sam’s eyes are watery but you don’t think you’ve ever seen the man cry and he doesn’t start today, but he does bring you in for a kiss that you don’t expect. He’s slow as he brings you in, like he’s reassuring you you can pull away at any moment, but you don’t.

You let it consume you. You move in, standing taller with your hands on his biceps. It’s a strong hold, like you’re scared he’ll disappear, and maybe he will, who knows?

It won’t stop you.

Because losing people is the way of the universe and not getting close won’t stop Sam from leaving, it won’t stop your kids from hating you, and it won’t stop your friends from moving away.

And maybe it took you a damn long time to get there, but you’re not stupid enough to keep repeating the cycle at twenty eight, especially not with Sam. Never with Sam.

You just hope Mark’s proud of you. You hope he supports you. Because he pushed you here. He’s the only reason you’re able to stand tall and put yourself out there, his love, his worry for you, it changed you.

Or maybe he’s half the reason, you’re pretty strong yourself.

End.

this was super new to me in terms of I did coloring??? on the pics?? look at me beating the non creative allegations (insecurities), and different writing style that I honestly really liked. thank you for reading if you've made it this far.

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uluvjay · 1 year ago

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Sex by the fireplace-C. Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x fem! Reader

In which you and your husband spend your Christmas Eve by the fireplace

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(use protection!), nipple play, light fingering, teasing, porn with a plot, cursing, kissing, kinda fluffy?, probs lots of bad grammar.

Day 1 of my ficmas celebration!

“Charles” she whined as the man’s lips left teasing kisses down her stomach.

“Hmm?” He spoke, green eyes looking up at her in the dark room that was lit by the fire beside them.

The couple had taken a trip for Christmas but due to a snowstorm they’d been left without power and the only way to stay warm was the large fireplace

However the plan of cuddling and watching a movie on the iPad had turned into teasing touches and kisses once charles got bored and offered a better way to warm up.

“Need you” she spoke, a breath getting caught in her throat as the man pinched a bit of her skin between his pearly teeth.

“You have me” he quipped earning him a tug to the hair and Braty whine.

“Oh knock it off chéri, we have all night” he scolded at her behavior.

He made his way back up her body, pressing his lips against her own in a heavy kiss. Her body sinking into his embrace, hands pulling him impossibly closer by his broad shoulders.

Their lips moved together in sync until they had to physically pull away before they passed out from the need of air.

“Sei così bella” he breathed down at her, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the skin of her cheek.

“Thank you” she breathed, her already red cheeks getting even darker at his compliment.

Charles smiled back before moving his lips to trail against the skin of her neck, teeth lightly nipping at the skin in his path.

His hands pulled down her soft sweatpants, sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes caught sight of the noticeable wetness seeping through the lace of your panties.

Her back arched into his touch as he ran a finger through her folds. The heat radiating from fire making her already warm body become much hotter.

“Dripping for me Amor” Charles breathed from above her.

“Char” she sobbed at the teasing touch of his skilled fingers.

A smirk overtook the man’s face at the way her body begged for more, her core desperately clenching around nothing as she needed more than a pathetic touch of his middle finger.

“What do you need baby?” He tauntingly cooed.

“Need you to fuck me-please, can’t take it anymore” she begged as tears began to fill her waterline from the overwhelming feeling of need inside her.

“So polite Tesoro” he smiled before tugging down his Ferrari branded sweat pants and boxers, a groan escaping his throat at the feeling of finally being free while a whine of need escaped the woman below him.

He placed kisses along her jawline as he slipped himself inside of her welcoming core, a low cry echoing from her throat.

Her hands took place in his slightly overgrown hair; tugging him closer to her body, lips now locked in a deep kiss.

Their lips fit together perfectly, moving just as slow as charles hips. He took his time with her, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of her neck as he pulled his lips from hers.

“Fuck I love you” he shuddered at the feeling of her core clenching around him.

Broken sobs came from her throat, trying her best to form words but the pleasure was just to much.

The moan that came from her throat as charles pushed her shirt up to allow his lips to attach around one of her nipples was loud, so loud it had charles letting out a moan of his own at the beautiful sound.

His lips and teeth made work of her breasts, switching between soft nips and sucking around the bud; there was truly nothing charles loved more than this.

“So beautiful, m’ so lucky” he praised as he looked up at her, her eye blown out and face covered in a layer of sweat.

“Oh Charles” she cried as his thumb came down to circle her clit, bringing her even closer to the edge she was nearing.

“Gonna come for me Amor? Can feel how tight your clenching around me” he groaned.

A pathetic ‘mhm’ was all he got in reply as he watched the way she threw her head back, nails sinking into his biceps as her body began to shake.

“Go on baby, come for me.” He encouraged as he picked up his pace, thumb still working her clit.

He watched in awe as her mouth opened in a silent scream, her walls were clenching him impossibly tight as her flushed body pressed against his chest.

He could feel her thighs shaking from their position hooked over his.

He fucked her through her high as he chased his own, his thrust becoming faster and less managed. His hands gripped her hips as sounds collided in his throat, coming out as desperate whines.

His body shook above hers as he felt himself go over the familiar edge, chest heaving up and down as he came back to earth.

Light touches trailed down the sweaty skin of his back as she watched him come down from his high, the way his green eyes sparkled with love and lust had butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“Hi” he breathed, leaning down to give her a sweet peck on the lips.

“Hello” she giggled, one hand slotting itself into his hair.

Charles opened his mouth to speak but the sound of the electricity coming back stopped him, the once dim room now filled with light and he got to see her fucked expression even clearer.

However Her eyes caught the digital clock in the corner of the room that read 12:03.

“Merry Christmas Eve” she smiled

“Best early Christmas gift ever” he giggled as she placed a light slap to his arm.

“You’re lucky that your cute Mr. Leclerc” she scolded teasingly.

“You’re even cuter Mrs. Leclerc” he spoke, leaning down to rub his nose over hers before leaving a small peck.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #formula 1 #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1blr #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #jay’sficmas

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worldly-fluster · 7 days ago

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Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace imagine #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #lads fanfic #sylus x reader #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus

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