#it’s still a fresh twist after all these years

[supernotnatural2005]

'Happy Accidents'

Pairing: Dean x Plus!sized Reader

Summary: You haven't seen the Winchester's in over a year, but the case you're working has you scratching your head, and who better to call than some old friends. However, insecurities arise as well as the reprise of a long time crush. Little do you know, it's reciprocated.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings/tags: Dry humping! (18+Only), fluff, mutual pinning, Plus!sized Reader, body insecurities, curvy girl appreciation, swearing.

AN: Okay so this is my first time writing for a more specific reader body type, but being a curvy-girl myself it was interesting to implement it into a story. And with Dean being the appreciator? Yes please! 😍 I know this might not cater to all of you, but I'm inclusive to all y'all ❤️ Also taking some inspo from @bejeweledinterludes post for this one and @zepskies Midnight Espresso series, which is honestly one of my favourite series and stories featuring a Plus!sized reader!! I do hope you guys like this one! 💕

Main Masterlist

You hadn’t seen the Winchesters in over a year.

Not since that hunt in Nebraska—the one that went sideways fast. The one that left you with a busted-up ankle and Dean with a fresh scar along his jawline. The one where, after all was said and done, you parted ways with an easy “See you around,” never expecting “around” to take this long to come back.

But when a case cropped up—one that twisted your gut with unease—you hadn’t hesitated. You picked up the phone and called the only people you trusted to have your back. If anyone could help, it was them.

And now, sitting in a dimly lit bar, waiting for them to arrive, your nerves were shot. Maybe it was the case. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d changed since they last saw you—since he last saw you.

That old, ridiculous crush on Dean Winchester hadn’t gone anywhere. That much had become painfully clear the moment he picked up the phone, his voice as deep, gravelly, and cocky as ever. But now, with time apart and the weight of your own insecurities pressing down, the idea of seeing him again made your stomach twist.

You had always been curvier, carrying stubborn weight around your thighs, ass, and middle. But in the last year, you’d softened even more. Life had been quieter, with less running and fewer adrenaline-fuelled hunts. You were still strong, still capable, but you felt different. And you knew the type of women Dean gravitated toward—tall, slim, easy.

You were none of those things, and you never would be. And that was okay. But it was a niggling fact that had always lingered in the back of your mind, that had stung each time the three of you got together and you watched him charm someone else. Someone who wasn’t you.

A warm, unexpected hand on your shoulder brings you out of your darker thoughts, with a slight gasp, startling you a little.

“Easy there, sweetheart.”

You turned, heart stuttering as Dean stood there, grinning down at you like no time had passed at all. And damn it all, he looked the same—scruffy and stupidly handsome in that effortless way of his, jeans snug on his hips, flannel worn open over a snug black tee. Sam stood just behind him, offering you a softer, more knowing smile.

“Hey, boys,” you manage, hoping the warmth creeping up your neck isn’t as obvious as it feels. You slip off the barstool, nerves buzzing, but force yourself to keep it together.

Dean’s eyes flick over you—quick, but thorough. For a split second, something unreadable flashes across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it.

“Missed us that bad, huh?” His smirk is pure Dean, cocky and teasing, slipping back into the easy rhythm of your old banter.

You roll your eyes, but are grateful for it. “Don’t flatter yourself, Winchester.”

But your voice is softer than you mean it to be, and when you turn to Sam, pulling him into a warm hug first, you feel Dean’s gaze linger.

Then you step up to him, hesitation curling in your chest—but before you can overthink it, his arms are around you, solid and warm, pulling you close like no time has passed at all.

That familiar scent—woody, spiced, edged with leather—wraps around you, grounding you, unraveling you. For a second longer than necessary, you let yourself sink into it, just this once.

The three of you settled into a booth once the bartender set down your drinks. Sam took the seat across from you, while Dean slid in next to you, his presence a little too warm, a little too distracting.

“So,” Sam started, taking a sip of his beer. “What are we looking at?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “A few people have gone missing over the last month—no bodies, no traces, just… gone. I’ve ruled out everything I know of. There’s no signs of a struggle, no sulphur, no EMF spikes. It’s like they just vanished into thin air.”

Dean frowned, brows knitting together. “And no patterns? No connection between them?”

“None that I could find.” You shook your head. “That’s why I called you guys. I was hoping fresh eyes might help.”

Sam exchanged a glance with Dean, both equally puzzled but already slipping into hunter mode.

“Well, we’re here now,” Sam said, ever the problem solver. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, feeling some of the weight lift. “We’ll go over everything in more detail tomorrow. Tonight…” You glanced between them, the tension of the case momentarily fading. “It’s just good to see you both.”

“Yeah, it is,” Sam agreed warmly, raising his bottle. “To old friends.”

You clinked beers with him, and Dean followed suit, but as your bottles met, his eyes locked onto yours. There was something there—something lingering, unreadable, sending a flicker of warmth through you. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone, masked behind an easy sip of his beer. You swallowed, shaking it off as nothing more than a trick of your mind.

The more the beers flowed, the easier it got. You caught up, swapped stories, and fell into familiar rhythms.

Dean was as quick with his smart-ass remarks as ever, and the two of you naturally fell into your usual back-and-forth. Sam, as always, was the long-suffering audience to your antics.

At one point, you and Dean tag-teamed a particularly brutal roast of Sam—this time about the time he’d gotten sick on a case and tried to insist he was totally fine, only to end up passing out face-first into a hotel’s continental breakfast buffet.

“Oh, come on,” Sam groaned, shaking his head as you and Dean laughed. “That was years ago.”

“And yet,” you grinned, “I can still hear the sound of your face hitting that tray of scrambled eggs.”

Dean snorted, nudging his knee against yours under the table. “Dude, you took out the whole table. That poor old lady thought you died.”

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes as he pushed his beer away. “Yeah, and that’s my cue. I’ve had enough of you two for one night.”

You laughed, but before you could say anything, Sam stood, shaking his head. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” He pulled you into a quick, brotherly hug, and you squeezed back.

“Night, Sammy,” you murmured, watching as he strode toward the door, leaving you alone with Dean.

You half-expected him to call it a night too, but instead, Dean didn’t move. If anything, the second Sam walked out, he seemed to settle in more, arm stretching along the back of the booth, fingers barely grazing your shoulder. The casual touch sent a ripple of awareness through you, but you forced yourself to act normal, reaching for your drink instead of acknowledging the way your heart had picked up speed.

“I think I’ll stick around a little longer,” he said casually, surprising you.

Your heart kicked up a notch, but you welcomed the company. “Yeah?”

Dean smirked. “Yeah. We got a lot of catching up to do.”

And so you did. The conversation flowed effortlessly, laughter slipping in between shared memories and stories of the road. Some cases were so bizarre they barely seemed real, and a few had you nearly crying with laughter. Time seemed to pass in a blink of an eye, the bar thinning out around you, and you barely noticed.

At some point, Dean just sat back and looked at you. Really looked at you. His expression softened, head tilting slightly as he took you in, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, he shook his head and muttered, “Damn, it’s really good to see you.”

The sincerity in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs.

Your lips parted, a response on the tip of your tongue, but nothing came out.

Dean huffed a small laugh, eyes still studying you like he was committing you to memory. “You look good, too.”

The words weren’t rushed, weren’t casual or offhanded. They were steady, like a thought he’d been holding onto for a while.

Heat crept up your neck, and you let out a small, nervous chuckle, dropping your gaze to your drink as you toyed with the condensation on the glass. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean shifted, leaning in just a little, enough that the space between you felt smaller, more intimate. “I mean it,” he said, quieter this time, voice dipping low.

All you could think was; what the hell is happening here?

Dean had never been like this with you before. Sure, he flirted—it was second nature to him—but not like this. At least that’s what you’d always believed. Had you just never noticed? Had you missed the way he looked at you before? Or had something changed?

Swallowing, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, only to find his eyes sweeping over you—slow, deliberate. No hesitation. No teasing. Just appreciation.

His gaze flickered to your lips.

The air felt heavy, charged with something unspoken, something you weren’t sure you were ready for, but part of you wanted to reach for it anyway.

Then—

“Last call!”

The bartender’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.

You exhaled sharply, the moment shattering as you snapped back to reality. A part of you wanted to stay frozen in it, let whatever this was between you and Dean unravel, but instead, you reached for the safest thing to say. "We should head back."

Dean nodded, standing with you, hands shoving into his jacket pockets. But even as you stepped out into the crisp night air, the tension didn’t fade. If anything, it followed you like a shadow.

The walk back to the motel was quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic and the crunch of gravel under your boots. The air was cool, a sharp contrast to the heat still thrumming under your skin. You kept sneaking glances at Dean, only to find him already looking at you, eyes dark, thoughtful, unreadable.

He was close—not touching, but his presence was all-consuming. The scent of leather and whiskey clung to him, mixing with the crisp night air, making your stomach twist with anticipation.

When you finally reached your door, you hesitated.

"Well… this is me," you said, voice coming out lighter than you intended, a small, nervous chuckle slipping past your lips.

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, his lips curling into a slow, knowing smile as he looked down at you. "Yeah."

But neither of you moved.

The air shifted again, crackling with something dangerous, something inevitable.

Dean’s gaze flickered lower—tracing the curve of your mouth, watching as you unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His pupils dilated. His breath hitched and something in his expression darkened.

"Fuck it."

The words barely left his lips before he was on you, crashing into you with a hunger that sent you stumbling back against the door. The force of it stole your breath, his mouth devouring yours, needy, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for years and finally gave in.

A muffled sound of surprise left you, swallowed instantly by his lips, but it only took a second before you melted into him, your fingers fisting the open lapels of his jacket, anchoring yourself against him.

It was hot and messy, all teeth and tongue, the kind of kiss that left you lightheaded and aching. His hands were everywhere—gripping, pulling, claiming—sliding over your hips, your back, fingers digging into your flesh like he never wanted to let go.

You fumbled for the door behind you, barely registering how you managed to get it open before tugging him inside.

Dean groaned against your mouth as the door clicked shut, his hands already working your jacket off your shoulders. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this," he murmured against your lips, voice rough, breathless.

Your stomach flipped, your heart fluttering at the implication—the confirmation that this wasn’t just heat-of-the-moment lust. This was Dean. Wanting you. For who knew how long.

A moan slipped past your lips in response because forming actual words wasn’t an option—not with his hands gripping you tighter, not with the way he was kissing you like he was starving.

You barely noticed when you reached the little loveseat, your room provided, until the back of his knees hit it. Taking advantage of his momentary imbalance, you shoved him down onto it and climbed into his lap.

Dean groaned, head tipping back slightly as his hands found your hips, gripping tight. Touching you like he’d always wanted to. His fingers dug into the soft curve of your thighs, your ass, holding you like he couldn’t get enough.

You stiffened for half a second. The way his hands moulded to your body, the way he held you there so easily—so greedily—made your head spin.

You’d spent years second-guessing what guys thought when they touched you, wondering if they found you too much, too soft in places you’d been taught to shrink. The idea of straddling Dean, of all people, should’ve sent a jolt of insecurity through you. Should’ve had you hesitating.

But then Dean’s hands tightened—fingers pressing into your thighs, squeezing like he couldn’t stand not to have you closer. A deep, rough sound rumbled from his chest, his lips breaking from yours just long enough to groan, "Jesus—fuck."

The way he said it sent fire straight to your core.

He wanted you like this. Craved it. He wasn’t just tolerating the way your body pressed against him—he was obsessed with it.

As if to prove the point, his grip turned bruising, his hands dragging you even closer, pulling you down into him, despite the small part of you that feared you might be too much.

Dean grunted, his head dropping forward slightly, his forehead pressing to yours. "Goddamn, sweetheart."

A rush of confidence flooded through you, drowning out every lingering doubt.

And then you moved.

You rolled your hips, testing, teasing—just enough to feel the hard, undeniable evidence of how much he wanted this. Wanted you.

The friction was incredible, sending a bolt of pleasure up your spine, making you bite back a moan.

Dean’s breath hitched. His fingers dug into your flesh, his entire body going rigid.

That only made you do it again. Slower this time, deeper.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, his hands twitching on your thighs like he was trying to keep himself together.

"Fuck—" His voice was raw, strangled, almost pained.

You could feel him trembling beneath you, every muscle coiled tight as you ground against him, feeling the delicious pressure between you, the way his cock strained beneath his jeans, thick and hot against you.

Suddenly, his hands snapped up to your waist, gripping hard, stilling you.

You barely had a second to register it before—

Dean shuddered. His whole body tensed beneath you, a choked grunt ripping from his throat as his fingers dug into your flesh, his head tipping back against the couch.

He went still, and it took you a second to realise.

Dean Winchester had just cum in his jeans.

A rush of heat flooded his face, his expression shifting from shock to pure horror. He blinked up at you, wide-eyed, mortified.

"Oh, fuck." His voice was barely above a whisper, his hands still gripping your hips, as if he was trying to process what the hell had just happened.

Your lips parted in surprise. Then—a slow, wicked grin spread across your face.

"Did you just—?"

Dean groaned, head dropping back against the couch, squeezing his eyes shut. "Don’t. Just—don’t."

But you couldn’t help it. Because holy shit.

You’d just made Dean Winchester cum in his jeans.

If that wasn’t the biggest ego boost of your life, you didn’t know what was.

Leaning down, you pressed a lingering kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, revelling in the way his breath stuttered. "That," you murmured, lips brushing against his ear, "is the best compliment I’ve ever gotten."

Dean exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he melted under your touch, his hands hesitantly sliding up your sides, gripping your waist like he needed to anchor himself. When he finally looked up at you, the humiliation still lingered, but something warmer, something softer, began to take its place.

His green eyes flickered over your face like he was memorising you. His throat bobbed with a swallow. Then, suddenly, he let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head.

"God, I’m sorry," he huffed, running a hand down his face, still half-stunned. "You’re just—" His eyes swept over you, dark and reverent as his hands followed, tracing over the curve of your hips, the swell of your full breasts, the thickness of your thighs. His fingers flexed, like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to feel every inch of you to believe this was real. "Fucking gorgeous."

Heat rushed to your face, your stomach flipping as you instinctively tried to shy away. But Dean was already there, his thumb pressing lightly under your chin, tilting your face back toward him.

"Hey," he murmured, his lips twitching into something wicked and sweet all at once. "Give me five minutes," his hands slid around the curve of your hips, then lower, grasping large handfuls of your ass, his fingers digging in like he couldn't help himself. He groaned, low and deep, pressing you closer, like he needed you to feel just how much he meant it. "And I’ll really show you how much I want you."

Your own lips curled, mirroring his. "Five minutes, huh?" You couldn’t help but hum as he kissed along the column of your throat, his lips soft and warm, his teeth grazing, sending a shiver down your spine.

His grip on you tightened, kneading the flesh beneath his hands, and another groan rumbled through his chest, when you shifted in his lap again and you felt the unmistakable twitch of him against you.

"Okay, make that two," he muttered, his voice rough with renewed hunger.

You laughed, and he grinned against your skin at the sound, before pulling you in and claiming your lips in a hot, deep kiss once more.

“Besides,” he mumbled between kisses, “I wanna sample the goods first, anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but then you squealed as he abruptly lifted you into his arms, carrying you over to the bed like you weighed nothing. With a playful smirk, he dropped you onto the mattress unceremoniously, making you bounce with a giggle.

Dean climbed in after you, hovering over you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his expression turning unexpectedly tender. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he admitted, voice quieter now, raw and honest.

Your heart fluttered.

"Then show me," you whispered.

And as his lips met yours again, slow and deep, Dean swore he’d take his damn time proving just how much he did.

AN: So this just popped into my mind, I hadn't planned on posting, but had to get it out 😅. I know this doesn't cater to everyone it's a little more reader specific, but, it's just another reason to love Dean! 😍

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse @impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[cto10121]

I think I had a breakthrough as to why the tiresome fan theory that Meyer was racist towards Jacob to the point of “destroying” her own character to elevate Team Edward is so popular. And I think it has to do with racism.

Almost from the very beginning Jacob has been framed as the socially appropriate and even conventional choice of suitor for Bella. His dad and Bella’s have been friends for years and Bella had known and played with Jacob’s sisters. When they meet again after many years Bella remarks how easy it is for her to talk to Jacob. During New Moon Charlie approves of Bella’s friendship with Jacob and is firmly Team Jacob in Eclipse. When Jacob says that he and Bella together as a couple would be as “easy as breathing” and that Bella wouldn’t have to give up anything of her human life with him, it not only rings true but is affirmed by Bella’s narrative, re: her vision of two kids running into the forest. And he’s a Native American character.

Edward, on the other hand, the inappropriate star-crossed lover—forbidden in a particularly visceral way—the one for whom it would be downright dangerous to Bella’s health to be with, the one who is most attracted to her blood, the one that haunts Bella’s dreams and fills her with aching passion, lust, and fascination, the one whom she goes the distance (literally) for to save and be with, the one who incurs Charlie’s wrath and disapproval and Renée’s concern…is the fantasy equivalent of a rich white guy.

Socially and economically, Bella is not supposed to be with Edward. Her true “social math” match as a girl from a working class white family is with Jacob.

In framing these love interests the way she has, Meyer subverts the common love triangle framing of dark/light, forbidden/conventional, even in classic romances (Linton as the conventional rich white guy and Heathcliff as the racially ambiguous forbidden lover in Wuthering Heights, the rich white Fleur-de-Lys and the poor but exotically beautiful Esmeralda in Notre Dame de Paris). In doing so Meyer elevates class as the most potent obstacle for the romance instead of race.

I’m not sure why Meyer did this—most likely her Austen influence reared its genteel bonneted head, as Brit Lit is notoriously class-obsessed. But for a series written for an American audience and is otherwise very American (the car culture especially, ho boy), this inevitably inspired backlash. Americans are notoriously very precious about race and Meyer’s blatant disregard for it in the romance definitely struck a racist (and classist) chord.

To say that a low-income Native American love interest would have been a perfectly acceptable if conventional choice for the white heroine than the rich white male love interest is something few people with racial prejudice (or who see everything through race and disregard class entirely) would accept. Meyer did not toe the race line—which means, of course, that she is racist herself, either in not making race the exclusive factor or in making the white lead as the superior and more intense love. Is she truly, though—or is that mere fan projection in being triggered by antiracist choices in the narrative?

[hiddenbeks]

thinking abt liah and alek again :/

[goddamnshinyrock]

The scene: new year’s morning, 8am, my wife and I wake up at my parents’ house after a night of revelry (playing board games until 10pm).

There is one minor problem this morning: no running water. This is a mysterious state of affairs, as 1) the power is still on and 2) there was running water the previous night. We brush our teeth with emergency bottled water as my father, extremely disgruntled by the lack of his usual morning shower, goes out to tinker with the well pump.

Shortly, my father comes back in, triumphant: good news, he’s fixed it, there was a wire with worn insulation on the pump and he snipped the worn end and re-attached it. There is water! Peace is restored.

15 minutes later, as we’re eating breakfast: no more water.

No problem, my father has a fresh theory as to the culprit: the new water filter/softener. My mother suggests they call the guy* who replaced their filter unit only six months ago, and pulls out her massive binder of household records to look for his number. My father** insists that he wants to “just take a look at it” first, since he’s “pretty sure” he knows what might be wrong with it. He vanishes into the basement.

There are a few minutes of minor swearing and banging noises as the rest of us discuss the situation upstairs, but the conversation is interrupted by a sudden FWOOOOOOSH from below us, as if someone has just turned on a fire hose in the basement. We all leap up and clatter down the steps, to be met with the sight of my father, soaked and defeated, standing in the middle of the room and staring at the geyser issuing from the general vicinity of the hot water heater and holding a small metal pin.

After a about 20 seconds, the roar of the geyser began to taper off and my father was able to explain, damply, the events that had lead to ‘basement geyser’. First, he’d determined the problem was indeed the new filter, and had (logically) begun trying to engineer a temporary fix by re-routing the house water supply to bypass it. He had accordingly turned off the valve leading from the well pump into the filter, and then went to open the valve that exited the filter to drain the unit. The filter valve was held shut by a twist cap with a pin. He pulled the pin, but didn’t get so far as twisting open the cap, because it had already shot across the room under the pressure of all the water currently in the house draining at once. Into his face. And thence onto the basement floor.

But, on the bright side he did solve the new year’s day water mystery, and even got his morning shower after all.

—

*Their Filter Guy is not a plumber. He was described as “the water filter whisperer”, a title which, after this incident, I am extremely skeptical of.

**Also not a plumber.

[itsnesss]

𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | you have an unexpected reunion with Jun-ho after believing he was dead

warnings | angst, unresolved love, smut, explicit content, p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The road stretched endlessly in front of you. You were a police officer, but at that moment, as you drove down that lonely highway, you didn't feel the rigidity of your uniform or the weight of your job.

Your mind traveled back to the past, to moments you would rather forget. Years had passed since you lost him. Since that night when he simply disappeared and you never heard from him again.

Suddenly, the lights of a patrol car reflected in your rearview mirror. The blue glow made your heart leap in your chest. Quickly, you checked your speed, confirming that you had been speeding. You cursed under your breath.

You stopped the car and parked it by the side of the road. The blue light continued to shine behind you, but something twisted in your stomach.

You prepared for a short exchange, a speeding ticket, something routine. But when the driver's door opened and you looked up, something made you stop.

There he was. In a traffic police uniform.

Hwang Jun-ho.

You couldn't believe it. Your mind went blank for a moment, as if time itself had stopped. He was staring at you, his dark eyes reflecting something you couldn't identify. For a moment, the air between the two of you thickened, dense with the memories of a past that had never completely faded.

"Good evening" he said, his voice as deep as you remembered, but with a tone you hadn't heard before. "Did you know you were speeding?"

Your body tensed instantly, but it wasn't because of the speeding. It was because of the surprise. For the feeling that the past had returned to hit you hard. You didn't know what to say, you just looked into his eyes, searching for a sign that what you saw in front of you was nothing but an illusion.

"Jun-ho…" you whispered, the word slipping from your lips as if it weren't yours, as if you couldn't believe what you were seeing.

He nodded slowly, his expression unchanged, but there was something in his gaze, something that made you doubt everything you had believed. How was it possible that he was here?

"Didn't you expect to see me here?" he asked, his tone now softer, but with a weight of nostalgia that seemed to hang in the air. "You thought you would never see me again".

A knot formed in your throat. You had asked yourself so many times what had happened to him. If he would ever come back. But the pain of the separation, the void left by his disappearance, was still fresh in your mind. And now you had him in front of you, alive, real, and in a uniform you had never imagined.

You didn't know if you had been waiting for this moment or dreading it.

"Why... are you in transit?" the question slipped out almost unintentionally, but Jun Ho cut it off before you could finish it.

"I needed to start over. Change of scenery" His voice became softer, as if the words he was saying had too great a weight to let go.

You stared at him, unsure if you could believe his words. The situation was surreal. How had he ended up here? What had happened to him since his disappearance? The last time you heard from him, it was when they found him adrift in the ocean, almost lifeless, recovering from everything he had endured. But now he was here, in front of you, as if time hadn't passed at all.

"I thought you had... died." The phrase came out before you could stop it.

Jun Ho let out a sigh, his eyes softened for a second.

"Everyone thought the same," he said, with a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I survived. And here I am".

The silence settled between the two of them, heavy, full of unasked questions, of unmentioned memories. And in that moment, something inside you broke. Something you had tried to contain for so long. The need to understand what had happened, to comprehend how it had all been. And more than anything, the need to feel it close again.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again," you said, almost like a whisper.

Jun-ho didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned toward the passenger seat, his face now just a few centimeters from yours. The proximity made you tremble. You couldn't deny what you felt, what you had always felt for him. The connection you shared, even after everything that happened, was undeniable.

Suddenly, he moved closer, his lips almost touching yours. A shiver ran through your body as you felt his closeness, and the air became thick. The memories, the emotions, everything you had kept inside overflowed in that moment.

Without thinking, you kissed him.

The kiss was immediate, as if time hadn't passed, as if everything were back to how it used to be. The touch of his lips on yours ignited something within you, something you had kept extinguished for years. The spark, the fire you shared, had never gone out.

Jun-ho's hands traced your face, as if he feared you would vanish at any moment. The gentleness with which he touched you contrasted with the urgency in his kiss. It didn't matter what had happened, what had occurred in the past. At that moment, only the present mattered.

The car no longer seemed like a closed space. The connection between the two of them was palpable, almost electric. You pulled away from his kiss for a moment, taking a breath, but before you could say anything, he leaned in again. This time, he was more determined, more firm.

His hands traveled down your neck, tracing the contour of your skin, and a shiver ran through your body. You felt how desire took hold of both of you, how the chemistry that had remained between you hadn't faded with time. It was as if it had never left.

"I've missed you so much," he said softly, as he kissed you again.

Jun-ho's words made your heart race even faster. You felt as if you had returned to the past, when everything was simpler, when there were no distances, when you both shared dreams and promises. But that promise was broken, and now only the shadows of what once was remained.

The tension in the air was rising, and you couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened between the two of you. But in that moment, the only thing that mattered was him. All you wanted was to feel him close again.

Jun-ho looked you in the eyes, and without a word, his hands began to unbutton your uniform. The desire grew with every second, with every caress, with every touch of his skin against yours.

You moved to the passenger side, sliding over his lap as his hands removed your uniform. You nestled against his chest, feeling his lips kiss your shoulders, while his hands brushed against your bare skin. The touch of his fingers tracing your curves made you gasp.

Jun-ho kissed you again, deepening the kiss, and his hands moved to the back of your body, towards your buttocks. The gesture made you tremble, and you felt something within you beginning to give in. The tension you had held for so long was fading away.

He leaned close to your ears and whispered something, words you couldn't quite understand, but that seemed to promise something beyond that moment. And instead of waiting, his fingers slid between your thighs, searching for the spot he knew would drive you wild.

The caress of his fingers was soft, tempting, as if they were about to make a promise. The closeness of his body, the proximity of his mouth over you, the softness of his fingers on you, it was all as if you were returning to the past. Everything was as if they had never been apart.

Your breath caught when his fingers found the spot. The desire intensified in an instant. The excitement had brought you to a point you didn't want to leave, and the touch of his hand on you was too much to resist.

You moved slowly over his lap, feeling the bulge of his pants against your thighs. The friction was inevitable, but Jun-ho didn't seem to mind. Instead, he moved with me, his fingers slowly penetrating you. The moans that escaped your throat were involuntary, and Jun Ho muffled them with a kiss. The rhythm of his fingers increased, the penetration deeper and more rhythmic. You couldn't hold out much longer.

Suddenly, Jun Ho stopped you. His fingers left you with a softness that made you gasp. But before you could protest, Jun-ho leaned closer to your ear and whispered.

"I want to feel you" His words made you lose your composure completely. The air in the car had become dense, heavy with desire.

I didn't need any more stimulation. Quickly, you took off your underwear and sat on his lap again.

You slid your hand between his pants, caressing his erection. The sensation of his skin, soft and warm under your touch, was all you needed. You slid it down, revealing his erection in all its glory. It was just as you remembered, big and thick, ready to be fucked.

You didn't take any more time to think. There was no more time for that. You moved over his erection, the position of the car forced you to be the one on top, and that was exactly what you wanted. The position of control was yours at that moment.

You sat on him, his erection brushing against the edge of your entrance, but without penetrating. The torture was as good as it was painful. The friction was all you needed to reach the climax, but it was also what made you want more.

Suddenly, his arms enveloped you, and he pulled you towards him. The movement was abrupt, and his erection sank into you in an instant. The penetration was stronger than you expected, but also more pleasurable.

The scream that escaped your lips was involuntary, but the pleasure was undeniable. Jun-ho moved beneath you, pushing his erection inside you over and over again. Each thrust made you tense a little more, made you sit a little deeper on his cock.

The position of the car made sex a bit more uncomfortable, but that was the last thing on your mind. At that moment, all that mattered was the feeling of having him inside you again, feeling his breath on you, having his body in contact with yours.

"Tell me you haven't forgotten me," you whisper in his ear.

The request was simple, but what lay behind it was much more than just words.

"I have never forgotten you," you replied sincerely, your words coming out in gasps. "I will never be able to do it".

Jun Ho smiled at you, his eyes shining in the darkness of the car. His arms tightened around you, and he pushed a little deeper inside you. Your breath caught for a moment, the pleasure rising to a new level.

"Then, tell me that you will always love me" he whispered again.

The words slipped from your lips without thinking.

"Yes, I always loved you. I always will".

Jun-ho smiled again, but this time, there was something in his eyes, an emotion that seemed to shine like fire. His arms tightened around you a little more, and he began to move beneath you again. The position was uncomfortable, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the rhythm, the feel of his cock inside you.

Their breathing became labored. The pleasure intensified with each thrust, but it wasn't just the sex that made you lose your composure. It was the closeness of having him there, of having him back in your life.

Their breathing became labored. The pleasure intensified with each thrust, but it wasn't just the sex that made you lose your composure. It was the closeness of having him there, of having him back in your life.

When you reached the climax, the scream that came out of you was not just one of pleasure. It was one of liberation, of having released everything you had been holding back for years.

Jun-ho arrived just a moment later, his body tensing beneath you as he came. The warm fluid spilled inside you, and you felt his erection pulsing within you.

Both of your breathing became gentle, and for a moment, there were no words between you. Only the sound of the air moving in the car was audible. Jun-ho gently stroked your hair as you leaned on his shoulder, feeling his skin against yours.

"You won't give me a ticket for having sex in the car, will you?" you joked a moment later.

Jun Ho laughed softly, his lips brushing against your hair.

"No" He smiled in the darkness. "I think you've already paid me in full".

You laughed softly and leaned a little more into his arms.

[vantetaes]

SPOILED BRAT 🫧🥂

SUGARDADDY!CONNIE! X SPOILED!BLACKFEM!READER

SUMMARY!!! connie tells yn no

WARNINGS!!! overstimulation, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, implied ‘age gap’, mentions of drug dealing, sex 18+!!

you’d been together with connie for a 6 years at this point. the two do you did everything together. he always made sure you were straight no matter what.

you’re his woman. his pride and joy. his headache.

just today: he’d taken you to brunch to help recover for your god awful hangover acquired by spending the night before taking shots of don julio with your friends. he took you to the hair store, buying you new bundles for the season change, then payed for the install. taking you to lunch after your hair was done. deciding you were getting tired of walking, you requested one last lap around the mall, which ultimately ended with connie wanting to see your nails a different color and a new set of lashes.

you’ve been gifted birkins, 24 karat bracelets, trips out of country just because, and even receiving a maybach for getting through your first year of college. everything you ever wanted, he made sure you got. no if, ands, or buts.

bouncing on the tippy toes of your pretty pink chanel slippers. the fresh white pedicure compliments the white lettering on your shoes. your eyes glaze over the stores extensive amount of new products. you wonder in awe as connie walked behind you, carrying your bags while his face is buried in his phone.

“oo! they have the two piece i’ve been wanting!” only hearing the paddling of your shoes, connie barely has time to look up before you and a PINK store associate were talking about the newly released thong set.

“you want it?” he asks simply, hand caressing the small of your exposed back.

“no i already have too much!” you shake your head, your fresh set of lashes batting against your face as you eyed the clothing. connie’s hand flags down the worker from earlier.

“can we get all if the color for this set, medium.” he places a few hundreds in the woman’s hands before she scurries off to fulfill the purchase.

“thank you, baby.” you giggle , giving him a small kiss on the cheek. the strawberry scented lipgloss leaves a transparent pink path on his face. which stays there. before you could bring up the fact that you were eyeing one more thing in the store, connie’s ringtone went off. he peers down before gazing back at you. placing a quick kiss to your lips, he slides away.

“give me one second, baby.”

he basically stormed out of the store, face twisted up.

from your view through the glass it looked like someone fucked something up. connie’s tattooed had runs across his head, sighing into the phone before shaking his head a final time, hanging up.

once he returned, the worker rushes a few bags over and the left over money from the exchange.

“keep it. ♡︎, let’s go.” he takes the bags carefully before heading for the exit. his tone was firm but still gentle enough that you didn’t feel offended.

-

finally back home, washing every piece of clothing you got today, you noticed your fiance was a little quieter than usual.

changing into something a little more comfortable, you walk out into the large penthouse living room.

“what’s wrong?” you quiz. his head shoots up from its resting position on his hand to shake his head.

“nothing princess. just some stuff i have to go handle in a few, you good?” he asked concerned.

“yeah you’ve just been like.. preoccupied away from me all day today! i just want some attention. can i come with?” the long red fur lined robe moved swiftly against your exposed brown skin as you did your little begging dance.

“whatchu’ mean i’ve been ignoring you? and not this time, princess. it’s something real important and i can’t risk some shit happening to you. we not finna do this.”

your motion stops as you stare a little dumbfounded. no? no?? jokingly sticking your acrylic inside your ear, wiggling it, pulling your finger back out to check. he got used to the dramatics years ago.

“what do you mean not this time, connie?” you only used his government when you were mad at him.

connie leans back in the leather chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watches you from across the room. he’s always been the one to say yes, to pull strings, to make things happen. you’ve always reveled in that—his power, his ability to hand you everything you could ever want, no questions asked. but this time, the look on his face is different.

“not. this. time.♡︎.” he says, his tone firm, his jaw tight.

“you’re joking?” you say, voice sharp, tinged with indignation. a small flabbergasted smile making its way into your face slowly.

he shakes his head, slow and deliberate.

“i’m serious, ♡︎. i can’t do this. not this time.”

for a moment, you’re stunned, the words hanging in the air between you like a challenge. then, like a flame catching kindling, the fury ignites.

“can’t ?” you spit, laughing abruptly, your voice rising. “or won’t?”

he doesn’t flinch. that only makes it worse.

“you’ll do everything else-” you continue, pacing now, your anger spilling out unchecked.

“-you’ll risk everything for everyone else, but the one time i ask for something that matters to me, suddenly it’s a problem?”

“♡︎, it’s not like that.” his voice is calm, measured, and it infuriates you more.

“then what is it like, connie? hm? you basically ignore me all day and now you wanna leave me here?” you shout, spinning to face him.

“because to me, it looks like you’re picking and choosing when i matter.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. you know he hates this side of you, the part that lashes out when things don’t go your way, but right now, you don’t care.

“im saying no because it’s not safe. you don’t see the bigger picture.” he says, his voice hardening slightly.

“don’t give me that fucking bullshit!” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“you think i don’t know what you’re wrapped up in? you think i don’t know how you make all this happen?” you gesture around, the designer bags, the jewelry, the life he’s built for you.

his silence speaks volumes, and it only fuels your rage.

“yn. im being polite with you. please don’t start this shit. and watch your fucking mouth, mama. im being calm.” his eyes growing more irritated and narrow. laughing in his face, you turn on your heels, walking back to the bedroom. disappearing down the lengthy hallway. you could hear the slow pads of connie’s feet following after you.

“fine! fuck you! didn’t wanna fucking go anyways.” you huff under your breath, slamming the tall room door behind you.

the man immediately flings the door back open, pointing to the bed.

“sit down. im not fucking asking you.” his jaw clenched tight.

finding yourself crawling onto the white king sized bed, sitting on your knees. the lacey black lingerie set underneath the red fur peeking through.

“what in the hell is wrong with you today, princess?” his voice is growing agitated and upset.

avoiding his gaze, you can only play with the hem of your clothing, ignoring him fully.

“yea we not about to do this shit.”

before you had a chance to react, he was on the bed, pushing your body backwards, and hovering above you.

“why you actin like this, baby, hm?” you couldn’t help but to melt looking at his eyes. everything about how close he is to you is just turning you on. ignoring him again, he’s starting to get fed up.

“im gonna ask you one more time and after, i don’t wanna hear about it.” his right hand held both your hands in front of you and his left was on the outside of your thigh. you could feel his warmth.

“just want attention, daddy.” you mumble, face whipping to the side. his hand shoots up to fix your chin back his direction.

“uhn uhn, speak up.” gently shaking your head side to side, he’s looking at you gently still.

“i want attention. why are you being such a fucking bitch con?”

immediately regretting your choice of words, the man rears up off your body, fixing his shirt and pants. you rush to sit upright, closing the robe, watching as the man put his shoes on.

“baby, you know i didn’t me-“ you start. he just laughs, walking through the open door. chasing behind him, anxiety creeping up your neck.

“baby, im sorry.” your voice barely above a whisper, watching as he grabs his cars keys, then he’s out the door.

-

“just calm down, im sure he’s fine.” mikasa chats on the other end of the phone call. you’re using your other phone to repeatedly dial connie’s number, all chances failing.

“what if he’s not though? he wont even answer!” the salivas getting caught in your throat to think he’s upset with you but who else to blame?

“drink a glass of wine and relax! i just talked to him, he’s fine.” you hear onyankopon on the other side of the line.

“what? how? what did he say?” you couldn’t help but to shove all the questions down his throat.

“chill chill. he’s fine, he said he’s heading back home now. go relax, ♡︎.” the man said on the other end of the line.

“okay thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” the phone beeps off.

making your way to the kitchen, you grab a wine glass. hand skimming over the wall collection you and connie built over the years, you pull out a red wine from italy you got last summer. pouring a generous amount, you decide to just bring the bottle to the living room. waiting for the man to walk through your doors.

cuddled underneath a large white blanket, halfway through a movie, you make it more than halfway through the bottle, unfortunately still slightly sober from anxiety.

until the sound of keys being turned broke you from staring off into space.

he slides in, immediately kicking his shoes off and placing them on the rack. he removes his jacket, hand wiping off some lint from the inside off his shirt. your body jerks into a standing position, blanket laying at your feet.

“baby-“ you start.

“room. now.” he doesn’t even look up at you, he just begins to walk down the hallway. shuffling confused and worried behind him, he turns on a single lamp on his side of the bed.

“lay down.”

crossing your arms, standing firmly.

“not until you tell me where you went and why i couldn’t go!” your lips pull into a line and your eyebrows furrowed.

“lay the hell down. if i have to say it again i swear to god you’ll hate me afterwards.”

still standing firm, you’re unmoved and unwilling. fed up, he walks over to you, his height towers you, throwing you over his shoulder. he tosses you onto the bed, yanking off your robe in the process.

“you want attention? strip.” he begins “and if i have to repeat myself this time, ♡︎, you won’t leave this bed tomorrow.” his jaw gripped tight, words spoken through gritted teeth, he was 100% serious.

without hesitation, you pull the set off with ease. he smiles before digging in his nightstand. pulling out two pairs of fuzzy pink handcuffs and your sleep mask. plopping everything down beside you, you feel his strong hands pick up up from under your arms, pressing your back against the cold bedframe. he reaches behind him, grabbing the supplies. cuffing both your arms to the posts, he gives you a small kiss before covering your eyes.

“connie why are you doing this?” voice unable to hold water, you were a mix of turned on and scared. you knew how he could treat you when he was this angry.

his hand goes back into the nightstand, all you can hear is him place it down beside you. the rattling from his belt being undone causes a reflex in your lower region, clamping your legs closed to gain some kind of traction. you can hear the laugh come from your fiance.

“don’t worry baby, you’re about to get all the attention you wanted.” the sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground followed by the sound of him removing his pants.

before you could try to listen for anything else, all you feel is his lips pressed against your pussy and his hands keeping your knees spread. his tongue licks long strides up and down, from your entrance to the throbbing, swollen bud. his lips pucker around your clit, giving it a few gentle tugs and licks. his hands move close to your core, squeezing every inch of your thighs, humming into your warmth.

“oh- shit con.” moaning, you start to feel a little vibration start to happen. “what’s that-“

he put the vibrator flush against your clit, using his tongue to pump slowly in and out of your clenching hole. flailing against the restraints, you can’t help but to cry out for him.

“please- please daddy, fuck me. im sorry i swear, please.” you feel him pinch the inside of your thigh, causing you to flinch a little.

“don’t tell me what the fuck to do. im gone take you how i want you.” he goes back to abusing your pussy, face covered in your slick and his spit. he’s always been obsessed with eating you. removing one of his hands from your leg, he begins to use his long slender fingers inside while he took turns sucking your clit and then replacing it with the vibrator.

you can’t see anything but little stars floating across the darkness of your eye covering. the intense feeling in your abdomen building up. his fingers slide in and out agonizingly slow, tongue writing love spells on your swollen bud.

“shit connie im gonna- oh fuck!” your body begins to shake as you release. that doesn’t stop him. he continues, his mouth attached to you, unable to pull away.

“that’s my girl. give me some more of that shit, come on baby. this what you wanted right?” his mouth forms an o-shape, licking at the swollen bud while humming. you try to force your knees together, only for him to pin you down into a middle spilt. every inch of you was being sucked, licked, and bitten.

he pulls the vibrator back out, hooking his fingers into you, teasing your g-spot while his other hand switched modes on the wand.

“pretty ass pussy baby. she so wet for me, didn’ even have to do much. yeah, i feel it. make a mess, cum all over my fingers baby.”

the mix of the vibrations, connie’s fingers slowly fucking your hole, and the way he talked to you, you came undone. again. body shriveling up in overstimulation, you can only feel him turn the vibrations off, hoping to be done with this whole thing. you’re already fucked out and a mess.

“fuck baby, youre so filthy for me. but i don’t think im satisfied, ma.” you shake your head a little, knowing that you fucked up. repositioning a pillow under your butt, the man reattaches his lips, going slower than he ever had. mouth frozen in an o shape, you couldn’t help but to cry out.

“it’s too much daddy, be nice!” you cry, eyes brimming with tears, feeling as his warm, wet tongue slowly circles your swollen clit.

“mm- mm.” he offers in a hum, extending his arms up to play with your nipples, tugging gently at them. it seemed like his tongue never stopped moving, sometimes slipping into your clenching hole to collect more of your wetness. the burn in your stomach was intense. you could barely breathe, only pushing out large exhales of air, moans strangled in there alone the string of ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s.

he was eating you like it was a competition and he wanted that fucking gold.

“again, again, connie oh- fuuck.” you’re now full blown crying. the orgasm shaking your body beyond control. the man gently pulls away, softly running his hands around your body. his hands remove your blindfold, wiping some of the fallen tears. the readjustment to light wasn’t too bad but once you saw his face, he just gives you a look.

“im- fine.” you choke out, tears still rolling. he laughs a little, wiping your face before standing and using his should to wipe his.

“im giving you two minutes.”

you swore those two minutes went by quicker than a hellcat in atlanta traffic.

he was now pinning your knees to your ears, dropping his throbbing cock inside you slowly, bottoming out. you let you a cry, in pure bliss. he pulls out quickly, slamming back into you. the sound of sex filled the room.

“pussy so fucking good. taking that shit so good.” he throws his head back, mercilessly pounding into you. he pulls out of you slowly, before pushing back into you. your hands grip at the chains of the handcuffs, bracing yourself for the man’s abuse on your hole. the veins of his cock rubbing the inside of your gummy walls. without warning , you’re squirting all over his dick, making a mess of the bed in the process.

“daddy! i’m sorry!”

“it’s too late for that shit now. let me take these off you.” he reaches up, undoing the cuffs swiftly before tossing them to the side. thinking youre free, you try to roll off the bed, only to be caught by him.

he tosses you over onto all fours, grabbing your arms from your side so your face down into the mattress.

“you know i love you right?” he asks, gripping both your wrists firmly behind your back.

“yes baby i know.” you say, head tilted to the side.

“good cause im about to treat you like i dont.”

slamming into you, he’s relentless. the tip of his cock abusing your poor cervix, digging completely into you. large hands grab hold of your breast, chest stuck in a heavy breathing pattern.

pounding into you, not letting up, you know he’s pissed. trying your hardest to pull away to give yourself so slack, he yanks you back into his length by the wrist.

“nah whatchu’ running for? this what you wanted right? you wanted me to fuck you like this, huh? you gone take this dick.”

he could feel you clenching around him, the slick dripping from your abused hole to to your ass. he could feel how close you were.

“ooo shit, let that shit go baby. imma fucking cum.”

your hands dig into his arms instinctively, eyes rolled to the back of your head, saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth in euphoria. it was so much yet you never wanted it to end. babbling nonsense and hitting connie with the palms of your hand, you release over him, again.

he delivers a few more thrusts, violating your cunt, sopping up every second of being inside you until he’s filling you up.

pulling away from his position, your body lay unmoving.

“was that enough attention for you?” climbing to your side, his large arms pulls you on-top of him. placing gentle kisses to your head, he rubs his hand along your back, giving you a small massage.

“im sorry.”

“shh, it’s all fine now baby.”

connie cleaned the both of you up, tossed the sheets in the wash, replaced them with new sheets he bought while out, and even prepared a small dinner. sitting on the couch, both heads in a silk bonnet, watching love island.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

inspo pics

[pucksandpower]

The World Can Wait

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: no matter whether he’s wearing Ferrari red or Williams blue, standing on the top step of podiums or fighting for points, you’ll love Carlos through it all

The podium is eerily quiet now. The lights are dimmed, the bright flashes of cameras long gone, and the chaotic hum of celebration has faded into nothing. The night wraps itself around the circuit like a heavy blanket, but Carlos is still there. Sitting cross-legged on the podium, the silver P2 trophy rests beside him, untouched.

You find him like this after weaving through the empty paddock, the distant sounds of dismantling garages growing fainter as you near him. At first, you’re hesitant. You stop at the base of the podium steps, watching him from the shadows.

His head is tilted back, eyes fixed on the sky, though you doubt he’s really looking at anything. The set of his shoulders is tight, his elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t notice you.

“Carlos,” you say softly, almost unsure if you should disturb him.

He doesn’t startle. Instead, his gaze drops, and he looks at you. There’s something hollow in his expression, a weariness that no trophy can mask. He doesn’t say anything, just gestures faintly with his hand for you to come up.

You climb the steps slowly, the sound of your shoes against the metal breaking the heavy silence. When you reach him, you hesitate again, standing just a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” You ask, careful, your voice low.

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh but not quite. “Am I okay?” He repeats, shaking his head. He leans forward, running both hands through his hair. “I don’t know, cariño. I don’t think I know how to answer that.”

You lower yourself down beside him, close enough that your knees brush. The chill of the night air seeps into your skin, but you ignore it, your eyes fixed on him. “Talk to me,” you urge gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He doesn’t respond right away. For a while, the only sound is the distant murmur of the city beyond the circuit. Then he sighs, deep and heavy, as if it’s been trapped inside him all night.

“I’m just ... taking it all in,” he says finally, his voice quiet, almost broken. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stand up here again.”

The weight of his words sinks into your chest. You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm. “Carlos, don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“But I don’t know that I will, either,” he counters, turning to look at you. His dark eyes are glassy under the dim lights, his jaw tight. “It’s Williams next year. Williams. You know what everyone is saying. You know what they expect.”

“Forget what they expect,” you insist. “This isn’t the end for you. It’s just-”

“-a step back?” He interrupts, his tone bitter. He shakes his head again, lips pressing into a hard line. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it? That it’s a ‘rebuilding year,’ a ‘fresh start.’” His voice drops, softer now but no less anguished. “But what if it’s not? What if this really is the end? What if I’ve peaked, and it’s all downhill from here?”

Your heart twists at the vulnerability in his voice. You don’t know how long he’s been holding this in, how long he’s been carrying this fear. “Carlos-”

“Do you know what I thought, standing on that podium tonight?” He cuts you off, his voice thick. He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “I thought, ‘This is it. This is the last time.’ I smiled, I waved, but inside I was just ... empty.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and he swallows hard, looking away from you. But you can see it — his hands trembling slightly, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

You don’t think. You just move. You reach for him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He doesn’t resist. His head drops against your chest, and that’s when it happens. The tears come fast, silent at first, then with a shuddering breath that rips through him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your hand threading through his hair. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

He clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, his arms wrapping around your waist. His tears soak through your shirt, but you don’t care. You press your cheek to the top of his head, rocking him gently. “Even if you never stand on another podium,” you whisper, your voice steady, “it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make you any less. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

He stiffens slightly at your words, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are red, his face streaked with tears. “You say that now,” he says, his voice cracking. “But what if I can’t give you the life you deserve? What if I can’t be-”

“Stop,” you cut him off firmly, your hands cradling his face. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say you’re not enough for me. Carlos, you are everything. Do you hear me? Everything.”

His eyes search yours desperately, as if looking for something to hold onto. “Promise me,” he whispers. “Promise me you’ll still feel that way, even if ... even if everything goes wrong.”

“I promise,” you say without hesitation, your voice trembling with the weight of it. “On my life. I promise.”

He closes his eyes, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek. You wipe it away with your thumb, your fingers lingering against his skin. Then, slowly, you lean in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing still uneven but steadier now. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you do,” you counter, your hands slipping down to rest on his shoulders. “And if you can’t believe that right now, then believe this: I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

He doesn’t respond with words this time. Instead, he pulls you back into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, for now, that’s exactly what you are.

The night stretches on, the podium still and silent around you. But neither of you moves. The world can wait.

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - Acquiesce

You were falling, falling, without wings or fate to catch you. And Azriel—all Azriel could do was watch.

Warnings: Angst, injury, mentions of death (this will have more parts dw)

Masterlist

If the world ended, in that moment, in several moments, you weren’t sure you would notice. 

It could all go up in flames, decimating everything the light touched, and there wouldn’t be a flicker in your eye. 

Your gaze was locked with Azriel’s, trapped there with nothing that could sever that tie. If there were a bond, you were sure it would be screaming—for you to do something, to move. But there was no bond and you had abandoned any hope that one would form a while ago. 

Not with Elain. Not with the devotion he held for Mor for so many years. 

No bond, nothing screaming. 

Only, something was screaming. The sound met your ears as a muted hum, but you could pick out the pieces that framed its essence so easily. Because Azriel never screamed like that; he hardly ever raised his voice. 

The cliff continued to crumble, leaving you falling between bits of rubble and dust. If you’d had your wings—if they hadn’t been torn from your body so recently—you would have been fine. And maybe that was why you didn’t take action, your body too accustomed to the feeling of the ground giving beneath you, your wings always there to catch you as you fell. 

Azriel would have been the one to catch you, but he couldn’t. He thrashed and growled against the six Illyrian men it took to hold him down, the iron shackles at his arms rendering his shadows useless, and could only watch as you fell down and down and down. 

He had been the one to find you all those months ago, the amass of blood and the carnage of your wings still so fresh in his mind. 

He had pleaded with Rhys not to send you here so soon after the incident, but in the end, it was you who insisted on coming—on being the one to put an end to the brutal nature of this side of Illyria.

There had been an opening, and you would not take no for an answer. 

So Azriel watched as you fell. He watched as you corrected your balance and tried to find your footing on uneven ground, something he was still helping you with now that your wings were gone. He watched your shirt collar hang wrong as your wide eyes met his, the new wardrobe you had had to adopt still unnatural. He watched the pain on your face as you went. 

“Enough!” Azriel roared. “Stop! Release me and you will be spared.”

The Illyrians at his back only cackled and forced him back as the last inch of your body was lost beneath the edge of the cliff. 

Unrelenting terror found Azriel, twisting something so deep in his gut that he was sure it would never be repaired. And let it break him; there was nothing beyond you. 

He whispered your name as the sounds of rocks and trees and dirt toppled from the breakage. You didn’t scream. He tried to scream again, but he had already screamed himself hoarse and his throat was raw. 

He couldn’t reach Rhysand. 

Something stung along his arms and Azriel knew it was faebane—the same faebane that stopped you from fighting back. 

“She got what was coming to her,” one of the men sneered at Azriel’s ear. “She should have stayed away after we took her wings. Bitch couldn’t leave well enough alone, as with all women.” 

Azriel felt the rage building. Each breath felt like a burst, a stone on top of the pool of panic that sweltered in his stomach. He kept his gaze on the cliff as if you would somehow reappear there, just as you had done when they were children.

But you had had wings then, and you only ever messed around like that when Azriel was struggling. 

Always trying to make him smile, always trying to make things better. 

“Where’s your high lord now, huh, Shadowsinger? Where are his policies? The ones that’re supposed to keep women like that safe? Seems like without them, maybe she would have lived. One of his own. Dead. Because of him.” 

Dead. 

Azriel didn’t think you were dead. 

You weren’t dead, right? 

He couldn’t imagine that world. 

When your wings were taken, he feared that outcome for you several times. You had been so closed off and fearful, so empty without that piece of you. It had taken weeks to get you to speak and even longer to get you out of bed. 

All of that work, all of that healing—you couldn’t be dead. You were part of his life. You were part of him. 

“Take your hands off of me.” Azriel spoke with such an icy hatred the shadows beneath him quivered. 

The men laughed. 

Weak men always laughed. 

Azriel did not have access to the power that rolled beneath the azure glow of his siphons, but he didn’t need it. You were hurt, again, and he couldn’t reach you like this. Somewhere, somehow, Azriel realized that there was nothing more important than you. You with wings, you without them—that meant nothing. To you, it meant everything, and that was the entire reason you had come here. For revenge, for peace—Azriel would get that for you. 

And he would save you again. 

He had to. 

He had to. 

Azriel shot his head back, his crown meeting the nose of one of the attackers. Rhysand had said to save one for questioning, but Azriel wasn’t thinking about questions. Azriel wasn’t thinking about anything, his mind buzzing with hazy rage that watched you fall over and over and over again.

He brought his hands up when surprise rendered the Illryrians weak, smashing into the side of one of their heads. Azriel couldn’t remember the rest, but when the shackles fell from his arms, his chest heaving and blood staining his fingers, his shadows moved first. They collected and hurled themselves over the side of the cliff only seconds before Azriel followed. 

That had to mean something, Azriel thought. 

It had to mean something.

[a-simple-imagine]

Don't They Know a Rabbit Can't Cry

Synopsis: while travelling the witches' road you're forced to confront the two witches who left you centuries ago without an explanation.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 2.3k+

WARNINGS - swearing, choking, knives, nightmares, brief mentions of burning and being buried alive and playful use of 'mommy'

A LIFE ONCE LIVED //

It's a quiet evening as you pluck wildflowers in the wake of the setting sun. You would have to head home soon; to avoid the danger of navigating your way back in the dark. The older witch did not like you being out alone at night but you weren't quite done yet. The bouquet had to be perfect. Not that she would ever say otherwise. not to you anyway. Too soft. Too sweet. She had a soft spot for you. They both did. You twist the delicate stem between your fingers. Lavender. Beautiful. Intoxicating. And... hot. Sizzling against the pad of your pointer finger and thumb. And searing into the skin. You drop it quickly. Flames swallowing the single flower. Bizarre. You take another. plucking it from its spot. Flames shoot up from the ground surrounding you entirely. Red hot and roaring as the flowers make way for beautiful flames that dance in the breeze. Creeping closer and closer. Quicker and quicker. Until you feel it burn against your skin.

You jolt up. Sweaty and warm in the night's cold embrace. You're safe. Right now at least. No fire. No nothing. You rub your temple. Just a nightmare. They'd been more frequent as of late. Little flashes of the past engulfed in fiery fury. Fitting. The makeshift campsite was still. The ashes of the small fire dance in the breeze. Witches litter the ground in a moment of respite. You didn't know them but you imagine they're quite desperate. Most weren't brave enough to even dare travel the witches' road anymore. Pushing up you decide to go for a walk. Not far just enough to feel the cool air and calm your heart. Away from prying eyes. There wasn't much around here anyway.

"can't sleep?" it's a startling thing. To hear such a familiar sound so abruptly. It brings with it a quickened heart. A look of surprise. that voice. An unpleasant reminder of the past. That's all this trip seemed to be. A constant trip down memory lane. In many ways, you wish you had never agreed but maybe your darkened heart may still hold a few soft spots.

"just needed a minute alone,"

"That's a dangerous game around here," there is a playfulness to her tone. one that makes your jaw tense.

"can you just go away?" you ask. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now."

"playing hard to get?" just as playful but different. Still familiar. Annoyingly so. "what happened to that sweet girl who brought me flowers every day."

"don't," a threat. You wished not to relive the past right now. Not with them. They didn't deserve to remember you so fondly.

"made us little flower crowns." her voice travelled the woods. Surrounding you from all directions. Trapping you in your spot.

"stop."

"used to bring us fresh bread."

"fuck off," you bite back with an equally sharp turn. Subdued anger began to rise at the mere sight of them. Agatha Harkness. The harbinger of your nightmares. The years had been kind to her appearance but if rumours are to be believed she had a dark reputation. Evil. Soulless. Murderer. Maybe in another lifetime, you would have disagreed. A green witch stood to her side. Far enough away for you to know they weren't on good terms either. She sported a signature smirk you wanted to slap away. Rio Vidal. Infuriating in every conceivable way. They both brought different feelings. Similar but still different. "why can't you just leave me alone?

"we're only checking on you, dear,"

"After such a scary nightmare." Rio teased. "do you need to get in mommy's bed tonight?"

You take a deep breath. Don't raise to her level. Don't give her the satisfaction. It's not quite admitting defeat but you're tired. Falling against a nearby tree. "please leave." you let your head fall back against the bark.

"I'm sure Agatha won't mind,"

"leave the poor girl alone," as always Agatha comes in to mediate. It's always just a little misleading. The woman crouches down before you. Glassy eyes bore into yours and for a moment you're that girl again. The one they remember. Who picked flowers and planned picnics? Ran in the meadow and liked to sit at the edge of the lake. Who held on tight to Agatha's hand as she walked you home. You didn't have much back then. Lived in a small cottage in the woods with your family. The older witch came into your life so abruptly. Looking back on it now she probably just saw a naive girl she could play with. "are you okay?" her question brings you back to reality. The here and now. Stuck on the road with a bunch of washed-up witches and the two people you hate most in the world. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of reliving the past. The end seemed so far away. Who knows if you'll even make it that far with this useless bunch. "do you wanna tell us about it?"

"Agatha," said softly.

"yes, dear?"

"fuck. Off." quiet but firm. You can tell she wasn't expecting it. A little chuckle sounds from behind her. The witch raises.

"fine." Agatha answers. "forgotten how stubborn you can be." your eyes trail after her as she begins to walk away, Rio takes a moment before following. And the question that has been bubbling in your chest for centuries finally comes up.

"Why did you leave me?" they slow to a stop. Yet to turn back. Did you even really want to know the answer? Perhaps it was a question best left unanswered. Years of bitterness already seeped into your bones. Little to be said to make you less angry at them. Less murderous rage. "what did I do?"

"Nothing," Agatha urges. Short and simple. No explanation needed apparently. "don't stay up too late,"

"then why?" you asked again. a little louder. A little firmer. Why was she acting like this? Pretending she cared. It was infuriating.

"Just tell her," Rio presses, turning back to you.

"don't," Agatha places her hand on Rio's shoulder but that doesn't stop the green witch from sulking towards you. A malicious little smile.

"come on, look at her," a knife pointed in your direction as she makes her way over. "just as pitiable as she always has been." she crouches down in front of you much like Agatha had before. But you don't see that girl you once were. Her eyes fill you with anger. It's strange to think you used to admire her so. Used to put flowers in her hair, and she let you. The tip of her blade forces your head up ever so slightly. "A pathetic little girl. Scared of the world," a sharp pain. You swallow hard  "scared of anything real."

"Rio," Agatha walks up, towering over you two. "put it away,"

"Why should I?" she wonders. Pressing a little harder. "tell her."

"What happened to you?" Agatha questions. Your eyes flicker up to her. Did she really want to know or was it diversion. "where does this hate come from?"

"you left me," you reply. A loud bark of laughter from Rio as her blade lowers.

"no," the woman shakes her head slowly. "that's... not it."

"boring," Rio groans loudly. "I didn't lie, y'know? I know you don't want to believe me but it's true. Isn't it Agatha?" the woman rises to her feet. Patting the other witch on the shoulder. "we left because you were weak."

"it... it wasn't quite like that," Agatha offers out a hand. You brush it off, standing up. "we thought you'd be better off."

"alone?"

"without us." Agatha corrects. "you were so..." her eyes trail over you. "different back then. You didn't know you were a witch. You were just so..."

"innocent," Rio insists.

"no- well, yes but not in the way you might think. You just needed a push and we were being so careful,"

"soft," Rio interjects once more.

This little game of back-and-forth was cute. But you didn't care. Rio was using it as an excuse to get some sick sense of pleasure from throwing in insults while Agatha was doing anything to avoid saying what she thought. You knew Agatha. She could be just as mean as Rio. "can you get to the point?"

"you already know," you ignore Rio, looking straight at Agatha.

"We wanted to protect you," you can't help but roll your eyes. That was the best excuse she could come up with. Some fairytail bullshit. "felt easier to leave." you glance at Rio who looked just as over it as you did.

"Agatha thought you'd be better off without us. That we shouldn't be dragging you into a world you weren't ready for. Blah blah blah. Too weak to come with us. If we left you wouldn't get caught up in anything bad,"

"Rio was actually the one who didn't want to go,"

"Whatever," she huffs. Her gaze down at the knife in her hand; twisting the edge against the tip of her forefinger. "I thought it'd be worse if we just left you. that it'd fuck with you- we just needed to be harsher."

"but I was right,"

"you were wrong," Rio answers.

"How? I mean look at her," Agatha ushers towards you. "a full-fledged witch. Survived centuries. That's something. You didn't need us."

"do you wanna tell her or should I?" you wonder if Rio is genuine in her question or if this was just another attempt at teasing. This conversation had mainly been between the two of them.

"Tell me what?"

"I wasn't... okay, Agatha," you admit for perhaps the first time ever out loud. Only Rio knows what happened to you in the years between them leaving and the last time you saw her. You made sure of that. The two of them had grand legacies but you wanted to be forgotten in history. Like the legend of Bloody Mary. Not a sole dare speaks your name anymore because who knows what'll happen if you show up.

"oh bunny," a pet name you hadn't heard in a very long time. It almost seemed childish now. Pathetic. "just talk to me."

"you don't care,"

"god do I have to do everything around here," Rio complains. "she was tried as a witch, Agatha. Use your head for once."

"Rio," you huff.

She rolls her eyes. "burned at the stake."

"Rio," you snarl. "stop. I don't wanna talk about it."

"yes you do," she responds sharply. "you want nothing more than to make Agatha Harkness feel guilty for leaving you. Hurt her the way she hurt you." you dart for her in one swift motion. A hand around her neck. The teasing just becoming too much, and you were sick of hearing her talk.

"you hurt me too," you bark, shoving her against the nearest tree. What should be fear is instead a small smirk and dark eyes.

"fiesty," she quips. She knows you won't kill her. You can't.

"you're the only person to ever leave a mark." you resume. "an ugly scar that my body just refuses to heal."

"come on sweet one." you drive a little harder. "make it hurt."

"do you know what it's like to be tied up and buried in a coffin? To slowly suffocate to death over and over and over again," fingernails dig into the skin of her neck. You can see it's having an effect. The wobble in her smile. "the way your body screams for oxygen. Your insides burning with desire but there is nothing you can do?"

"drop her," Agatha's hand reaches your shoulder and your powers kick in. Your free hand waves her away. Energy blasts her backwards and she stumbles to the ground. A lesser witch wouldn't know of Agatha's ability to drain magic but you were smarter than that. careful in your use despite the speed. control what's around her rather than directly blasting her.

"don't touch me," you growl.

"our... little girl... is all grown... up," choked out of Rio's mouth. You watch her grow a little paler. A little more starved for breath. And then you drop her. She crumbles to the floor. "and filled..." she coughs. "with... murderous rage... apparently."

"calm down," Agatha tries from her place on the floor, as she tries to get up. You use your magic to help her up. Leaving her hovering just a few feet off the ground.

"y'know, when they dragged me from bed and burned me at the stake all I could think about was you two. Surely, they didn't just leave without a word. They'll... come back and help me." you can still picture that night. The confusion. the heat. The pain. "you left me," you walk towards Agatha. "and look at you now. The great Agatha Harkness is completely powerless."

"we're sorry, okay- aren't we rio?" rio shrugs a little. With a heavy sigh, you drop Agatha to the ground. "you've come a long way bunny."

"wasn't really a choice,"

"Can we just backtrack a little," the older witch requests. Brushing herself off as she stands back up.

"immortality looks good on you," Rio teases. You hold up a middle finger.

"you're immortal?"

"for the longest time, I thought one of you cursed me with it. Some fucked up way of protecting me. But then I went looking for you. Heard all about your extra circular activities. Witch killer, hiding behind dark magic," Agatha just looks back as you turn to Rio. She knew the story. "Rio was easier to find,"

"should have stayed dead," Rio insisted, the cold metal blade dancing across the scar on your neck. "how easier that would be," you shove her away and she just chuckles. "oh how I missed this," she wonders over to were Agatha is stood.

"I'm going back to sleep," you announce. "let's just leave it at that,"

"Why did you come," Agatha asks. You wonder if it's worth the conversation. The headache of continuing to engage with them. "if you hate me so much?"

"to die," you say eventually as you head back to camp.

// NEXT

[tokkiwrites]

𝚄𝚗𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚔𝚒𝚗.

mom's fiancé/bf! joel miller x f! reader • part two • part three

Summary: Your mom's new fiancé, Joel Miller, is the kind of man you could never shake out of your mind—rugged, rough, and embodiment of your long-buried fantasies. He's been your next-door neighbor for years, and the crush you harbored through your teenage years never really faded. Now, he's with your mom, and they're planning to get married. You should want her to be happy, but you can't ignore the tension growing between you and Joel. It's something that was never meant to happen. But as you uncover Joel's true motives for being with your mom, you realize maybe your feelings weren't one-sided after all. And maybe, despite everything, you’re the one he really wants.

tags: stepcest kind of, age gap (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 40s), forbidden romance, emotional conflict, slow burn, sexual tension, complicated family dynamics, heartbreak, Joel being an emotionally complicated bastard, ANGST, cheating, infidelity, nsfw, p in v unprotected, breeding kink.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ me writing angst?? wow could never imagine it. i hope you guys like this i dunno what came over me. almost 7k (oops) words of hurt confusion and a filthy finish to dry your tears. not proofread!!

The house smelled like home, like it always had. Fresh cut grass from the lawn, the faint scent of laundry detergent, and the crisp autumn air breezing in through the windows. But the warmth that had once filled it felt absent now, replaced by the coolness of change. A change you hadn’t been able to brace for. Your mother had finally met someone after years of being alone, and that someone was Joel Miller.

You sat at the kitchen table, your fingers trailing the edge of your mug, staring at the steam rising from your coffee. The engagement ring on her finger glinted as she poured a second cup of coffee, smiling to herself. You couldn’t take your eyes off it—the gold band, the small, delicate stone. Joel had chosen it.

"Can you believe it?" she said, laughing lightly. "I didn’t think I’d find someone after your father. But Joel... he’s good to me."

You swallowed hard. "Yeah, Mom. I can tell."

You knew he was good to her. You saw it every time they were together. The way he would brush his hand over her back when he passed her, the way he’d laugh at her jokes. The way she looked at him, like he was everything she had wanted but had never thought to ask for.

But that wasn’t what twisted the knife in your chest.

Joel had always been more than just a neighbor. You’d been only nineteen when you started noticing him, the way a girl starts to notice a man—how his shoulders would flex when he lifted something heavy, the rasp in his voice when he spoke to you, low and careful. He was rough around the edges, with that Southern drawl and hands scarred from years of work. A part of you had always wondered what those hands would feel like on you, against your skin, but you never let the thoughts go far. He was older, after all, and back then, it had been nothing more than an innocent crush. But now he was here, in your life in a way you hadn’t imagined, not as some distant neighbor or a fleeting thought, but your mother’s fiancé. The reality of it made your stomach churn, and you hated yourself for the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he came around.

"I’m glad you like him," your mom continued, her voice pulling you out of your thoughts. She took a seat across from you, her eyes soft with affection. "I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about this, but... it means a lot to me that you’re okay with it." You forced a smile, the tightness in your chest growing. "Of course. I just want you to be happy." She reached out and touched your hand. "I am."

You wished you could say the same.

The days stretched into weeks, each one bringing you closer to the wedding. The house buzzed with preparations, your mother caught up in a whirlwind of joy and excitement. You tried to blend into the background, to stay out of the way, but it was impossible. Every time you turned around, Joel was there, a steady, looming presence.

One afternoon, you found yourself out in the yard, helping your mom plant some new flowers along the fence. The sun was high in the sky, the heat beating down on your skin. You wiped the sweat from your forehead, focusing on digging the next hole. "Need some help?" Joel’s voice came from behind you, making you jump. You turned, finding him standing there with a shovel in hand, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. He was wearing a faded flannel, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the sinewy muscles of his forearms. His hair was streaked with gray at the temples, his face lined with years of hard work and sun exposure, but he was still undeniably handsome. Too handsome.

"No, we’re good here," you replied, keeping your voice steady as you turned back to the soil. Your mom looked up from her spot, grinning. "Actually, Joel, I think we could use a little extra muscle." He chuckled and came over, kneeling beside you, close enough that you could smell the scent of earth and sweat on him. His presence was overpowering, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep your mind from drifting.

"So," he said casually, his voice low as he worked beside you, "you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alright?" You felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. "Yeah, 'm just busy."

"Busy, huh?" He tossed a clump of dirt aside, his tone teasing but not unkind. "You don’t strike me as the busy type." You shrugged. "Things change." Joel paused, his fingers still in the dirt. "That they do." There was a weight to his words, the way he said it, something that settled deep in your bones, like he knew what was deep beneath your facade. You risked a glance at him, and when your eyes met, the air around you seemed to thicken. His gaze was too intense, too knowing, and it made your heart pound in your chest. "Joel, could you help me with these pots in the back?" your mother called, oblivious to the tension that had been steadily growing between you and him.

Joel blinked, breaking the moment. He stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Yeah, sure thing." As he walked away, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You couldn’t keep going like this.

Temptation lurks.

The engagement party was held at your house, the backyard filled with neighbors, friends, and family. You had helped set everything up, stringing lights across the trees, setting up tables with white linen. Your mother had been glowing all day, her happiness contagious to everyone but you.

You were standing near the bar, sipping on a drink when you saw him. Joel was talking to your uncle by the grill, his hand resting casually on the back of your mother’s chair. You watched as he laughed at something your uncle said, the sound of it rumbling low in his chest. He looked so at ease, so comfortable in this life he had built with your mom. But there was a crack in the facade, something that only you could see. The way his eyes flickered to you, even when he was mid-conversation. The way his smile faltered just for a moment when your gaze met his.

he feels it.

"You look lost in thought." You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. Joel was beside you now, his presence like a shadow that followed you everywhere. You forced a smile. "Just thinking." He leaned in a little closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Care to share?" You shook your head, setting your glass down on the bar. "It’s nothing."

Joel’s hand brushed yours as he reached for his own drink, the touch so brief and fleeting, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm. He must have felt it too because he hesitated for a moment, his fingers lingering a second too long before he pulled away. "You seem different, sweetheart." he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to figure you out. sweetheart. it sounded so natural, meant just for you. "Not like yourself." He continues. You swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. "Maybe I’ve changed. Or maybe you don't know me that well."

"Maybe," he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. "But I think I know you better than that." Before you could respond, your mother appeared, smiling brightly as she slipped her arm around Joel’s waist. "There you are!" she said, looking between the two of you. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

Joel’s eyes never left yours. "Just catching up."

You excused yourself quickly, retreating inside the house, your chest tight with frustration and confusion. You needed air, space, anything to clear your head. But no matter how far you ran, you couldn’t escape the way Joel made you feel. The way you wanted to feel, despite everything.

everything beneath the surface.

The weeks leading up to the wedding were a blur. You kept your distance from Joel as much as you could, but it was impossible to avoid him completely. Every time you saw him, the tension between you grew stronger, pulling you in even when you wanted to push it all away. One evening, after a particularly long day of wedding planning, you found yourself alone on the back porch. The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind thick clouds. You sipped your drink slowly, trying to let the cool night air calm your nerves.

"You okay?"

You turned to find Joel standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable. You hadn’t even heard him come out. You straightened up, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m fine. Just needed some air." Joel stepped onto the porch, the floorboards creaking under his weight. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, his hands in his pockets as he looked out into the yard. The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy. "You’ve been avoidin’ me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough in the quiet night. Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t deny it. "It’s not like that."

"Then what’s it like?" You sighed, setting your drink down and standing up, needing to put some space between you. "Joel, this... it’s complicated. I can’t—"

"Complicated," he repeated, his tone tinged with frustration. He stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "It wasn’t complicated before, was it?"

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they were true. It hadn’t always been complicated. Before your mother, before the engagement, there had been something between you and Joel that had lingered, unspoken, for years. Maybe it had been innocent at first, just a crush you’d had on the older man next door. But it had evolved into something else—something dangerous.

"Joel," you whispered, shaking your head, trying to regain control of the conversation, but he was already too close. His presence overwhelmed you, drowning out the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to walk away.

"You feel it too, don’t you?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and the way his eyes bore into yours made it impossible to look away. "I’ve seen the way you look at me, baby." You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. "This isn’t fair," you managed, your voice breaking. "You’re marrying my mom, Joel." He winced, as if the words had physically hurt him, but he didn’t back away. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "I know I shouldn’t feel this way. Goddamn it, I tried not to. But I can’t help it, baby, Iㅡ" You took a step back, trying to create some distance, but Joel followed, his gaze never leaving yours. His hand reached out, brushing your arm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Don’t—"

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his hand dropping, but his eyes were still fixed on you. "I didn’t mean for this to happen. Should've been ya."

"Then why did it happen?" you asked, your voice breaking with the weight of the question. "Why are you doing this, Joel? Why are you marrying her?" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not what you think."

"Then tell me," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "Tell me why you’re with her when—"

"When I want you," Joel finished for you, the rawness in his voice making your heart ache. The admission hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You wanted to pretend you hadn’t heard it, that it didn’t mean anything, but it did. It meant everything.

Your breath hitched as you stared up at him, the world tilting on its axis. You felt the pull between you, that magnetic force that had always been there, but now it was more dangerous than ever. It wasn’t just some unspoken tension anymore. It was real, out in the open, threatening to tear everything apart. "Joel, this isn’t right," you said, your voice trembling, even though your heart screamed at you to move closer to him. "It can’t happen. Not like this."

"I know," he said, stepping closer, his voice barely a rasp. His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "But that doesn’t change how I feel." You pulled your hand away, the loss of contact almost painful. "You have to stop," you whispered, your throat tight. "You have to marry her. You can’t do this to her." The agony in his eyes was unbearable. "You think I don’t know that?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your pulse racing. "Then why are you doing this?"

Joel’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked away, like he couldn’t bear to face the truth. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost broken. "I thought I could love her the way she deserves. I thought... if I just tried hard enough, I could make it work." Your heart ached for him, for your mother, for yourself. "But you don’t, do you?"

His silence was answer enough.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay strong. "You need to go through with the wedding, Joel. My mom... she loves you. She’s happy."

"I know," he murmured, the weight of his guilt evident in his voice. "But what about you? What do you want?" The question hung in the air, suffocating you. What did you want? You wanted him, but not like this. Not in a way that would destroy everything around you. Not in a way that would hurt your mother, who had already been through enough pain. "I want my mom to be happy," you said finally, even though the words felt like they were tearing you apart. "That’s all." even if it was a lie.

Joel stared at you, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Me too." He stepped back then, creating the distance you desperately needed. "I’ll do the right thing," he said, his voice low and resolute. "For her." he wouldn't believe himself either.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice to say anything else. The weight of the moment settled over you both, heavy and oppressive. Without another word, Joel turned and walked back into the house, leaving you standing alone on the porch, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

It was all ready to collapse.

The wedding day approached faster than you had anticipated, each moment feeling like a countdown to an inevitable disaster. You tried to bury your feelings, to focus on helping your mom with the final touches, but the weight of what had been left unspoken between you and Joel hung over everything. You hadn’t spoken to him since that night on the porch, and the tension gnawed at you.

The morning of the wedding was bright and warm, the sun filtering through the lace curtains in your bedroom. You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the soft fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress, trying to shake the growing sense of dread that settled in your chest.

You wanted to be happy for your mom—she looked radiant, glowing in her wedding dress, and she deserved this moment. She deserved love, peace, after the years of struggle she’d endured. But underneath your forced smiles and quiet congratulations, you couldn’t stop thinking about Joel. About his eyes when he looked at you, about the unspoken words still hanging between you.

Downstairs, the house sung with excitement, guests gathering for the ceremony. You could hear the faint sounds of laughter and music, the clinking of glasses as the day unfolded. But it all felt so distant, like you were watching it from the outside, detached from the joy that filled the air.

Just as you were about to head downstairs, there was a soft knock at your door.

You froze, your heart leaping into your throat. You already knew who it was before you even opened the door. Joel stood there, looking as conflicted as you felt. He was dressed in a suit, but the usually rugged man looked uncomfortable in the formal attire. His hair was neatly combed, but there was still that familiar edge to him—rough, worn, and undeniably Joel.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at you, his dark eyes clouded with something you couldn’t quite name. "You look beautiful."

"You shouldn’t be here," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I know," he said, his voice low. "But I had to see you. Before—"

"Before what?" you interrupted, your hands trembling. "Before you marry my mom?" Joel’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice barely audible. "For all of this. For... for everything I’ve put you through." Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. "You have to go through with it, Joel. You promised her."

"I know," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor. "But I can’t stop thinking about you." The rawness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to stay strong. "You don’t get to do this now," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Not today." Joel’s hand reached for yours, but you pulled away, stepping back. "Don’t," you warned. "Please don’t make this harder than it already is." He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret, before he finally nodded. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice breaking. "I’ll... I’ll go."

You watched as he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall, each one like a nail in the coffin of what could have been.

Unbeneath.

The wedding was beautiful. The flowers were perfect, the music soft and sweet, and your mother’s face glowed with happiness as she walked down the aisle. Joel stood at the altar, looking handsome and calm, the picture of a man ready to commit to a life with her.

But you saw the cracks beneath the surface. You saw the tension in Joel’s shoulders, the way his jaw clenched as your mother approached him with a radiant smile. You knew he was trying to hold it together, trying to play the part of the perfect groom. But deep down, you could see it—he wasn’t entirely there.

Standing as a bridesmaid near the altar, you forced yourself to smile, to focus on your mother’s joy. But it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The weight of what Joel had said to you that morning still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. As the officiant began to speak, your heart pounded in your chest. The words felt hollow, echoing in your mind. The vows of eternal love, of commitment, of being faithful—it all felt like a lie. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to stay focused, trying to hold on for your mother’s sake.

But then Joel glanced at you.

It was brief—just a flicker of his eyes in your direction, but it was enough to make your breath catch. His gaze was filled with conflict, guilt, and something else you couldn’t name. And in that moment, you knew—he was thinking about you. Even here, even now, when he was supposed to be pledging his life to your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the officiant asked Joel to recite his vows. He hesitated for just a second too long, the pause so subtle that no one else seemed to notice. But you did. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between doing what was right and doing what he wanted.

"I, Joel, take you—" His voice caught, barely noticeable, but you saw it. He cleared his throat, trying again. "I take you, to be my wife."

Each word felt like a stone dropping into a bottomless well.

Your mother smiled at him, tears of joy in her eyes. She was completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. She believed in this moment, believed in the future they were about to share. And you hated that you couldn’t give her that same belief, that you couldn’t share in her happiness.

When the ceremony ended and the guests erupted in applause, you clapped along with them, your hands numb and mechanical. The celebration carried on around you—people laughing, clinking glasses, congratulating the happy couple—but you felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath you.

At the reception, you stayed at the far end of the garden, away from the crowd. The string lights twinkled above, casting a soft glow on the scene, but the beauty of it all felt distant, unreachable. You sipped your champagne, staring blankly at the dance floor where Joel and your mother swayed together. They looked perfect, like a picture from a magazine. But you knew better.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Joel came up beside you, his presence like a storm cloud looming on the horizon. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, and there was a weariness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

"You disappeared on me," he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the dance floor. "Just needed a moment." He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean for things to get this way. Please believe me, I didn’t knowㅡ didn't know she'd fall." You finally turned to face him, the rawness of his words cutting into you. "Well, they are and she did so.."

Joel looked at you with an intensity that made your heart ache, the same look he’d had earlier that morning. "I can’t stop thinking about you, baby." he repeated softly, his voice rough with emotion. "Even now. Especially now."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. "You need to stop," you whispered, your voice trembling. "You made your choice. You married her. I don't even know what your plan was."

"I know," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "I know what I did, but that doesn’t change what I feel. It doesn’t change this." He gestured between the two of you, his eyes pleading. "I never wanted to hurt you, or your mom. But... I can’t pretend anymore. Not with you." Your chest tightened, the pain almost unbearable. "You have to pretend, Joel. You have to. For her." He stared at you, his expression torn between guilt and desire. "And what about you? What about us?"

"There is no us, Joel. Never was." You said the words like poison in your mouth. "There can’t be." Joel’s hand reached out, his fingers brushing your arm, and the familiar spark shot through you, the one you’d tried so hard to ignore. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled away, his eyes dark and unreadable.

"You’re right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "There can’t be." But the words felt like a lie the moment they left his lips because despite everything, despite the weight of his new vows, you saw him lean in closer. His breath mingled with yours, and his eyes-filled with guilt, longing, and desperation bore into you. His lips inched toward yours, the world around you fading into a blur of muted colors and distant laughter. People were far enough to not see you, but that didn't make it any easier. Your heart pounded, your breath shaky as you felt the warmth of his body close to yours. You knew this was wrong, that you should push him away, but your body betrayed you. The yearning, the suppressed need that had lingered between you for years, finally pushed through the cracks.

With one last glance into your glassy eyes, as if seeking permission-or maybe forgivenessㅡ Joel closed the distance.

His lips intertwined with yours, soft and rough at the same time, filled with everything that had been left unsaid. You froze for a moment, the shock of it crashing through you like a tidal wave. But then something snapped inside you, and you kissed him back. All of the restraint, the pain, the buried feelings surged to the surface, spilling into that one kiss.

His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the intensity of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist. It was just you and Joel, a stolen moment in a sea of impossibilities. His lips moved against yours with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if both of you knew this would be the only time you'd have. As if the kiss had to say everything words couldn't

But then, just as quickly as it had begun, reality crashed back in. You broke away, gasping for air, your chest heaving. The warmth of his touch still lingered on your skin. Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Finally, Joel stepped back, his face hardening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I’m sorry," he muttered, though you knew the apology wouldn’t fix anything.

You watched as he walked away, back to the party, back to your mother—the woman he had chosen. The woman he was supposed to love. Your heart broke all over again as you realized that no matter what you felt for him, no matter what he felt for you, it would never be enough to change the reality of the situation.

And so, you stood there, the cold night air brushing against your skin, watching as Joel rejoined the celebration. The sounds of laughter and music filled the garden, but all you could hear was the silence between you and the man you could never have.

Was one night really that important?

You stood there, alone in the shadows, the air growing colder around you. The question gnawed at you, refusing to let go. What harm could it do? One night. One moment where none of thisㅡ none of the guilt, the secrecy, or the heartbreak mattered. No one would know. No one had to.

Would it really hurt?

The thought was reckless, dangerous even, but it lingered, growing more persistent with each passing second. Your mind kept replaying the way Joel had kissed you, the heat and desperation in his touch, the wayyou had kissed him back without hesitation, as if your bodies knew what your hearts refused to admit. You hadn't wanted to stop. And he hadn't either.

Your breath quickened as you thought of him, standing there, so close you could still feel the faint echo of his warmth, his scent, the way he had made you feel as though the world had disappeared, as if nothing else mattered but the f you, in that moment.

No. You couldn't. You couldn't do this to your mother. You couldn't betray her like that, not even for one night, no matter how desperately you wanted him. But the longing was still there, a dark ache deep in your chest, making it harder and harder to ignore. You let out a quiet, shuddering breath and looked back toward the reception toward Joel, who was now standing by the bar, talking with a few guests. The smile he gave them was easy, practiced, but you could still see the shadows under his eyes. You could still see the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

What if nobody knew? What if this one mistake, this one selfish moment, stayed just between the two of you? What if you could find a way to make it work-just for one night, just to feel what it was like to truly have him without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders?

You swallowed hard. you could still taste his kiss on your lips. You could still feel the burn of his fingertips against your skin.

But then, you remembered your mother's face. Her warmth. Her trust. She was so happy, so completely in love. The thought of betraying her, even just for a moment, tore you apart. Could you really live with that kind of guilt?

No.

Butㅡ

You closed your eyes and exhaled, trying to quiet the storm inside you, trying to remind yourself of what was right. This wasn't a fleeting desireㅡ it was a devastating disaster waiting to happen

And yet, your body ached with the need to be close to Joel again. The yearning, the intensity of that single kiss and one pathetic touch, it was too much to ignore. You had given in once, but you couldn't go down that path again.

You took a step away from the garden, retreating into the shadows. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe one night wasn't worth it. But then you heard his voice, low and familiar, cutting through the noise. He was closer than you expected.

"Hey."

You froze, your heart stuttering in your chest. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Joel. His voice was all too familiar now. He stepped into the shadows with you, the dim light casting sharp lines across his face, making him appear even more worn, more conflicted. "Iㅡ" He hesitated, his voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn't have kissed you earlier. I know I shouldn't have."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't. You didn’t regret it. You wish it never ended.

Joel's gaze softened, and he stepped closer, but you kept your distance. He seemed to notice the space between you, the invisible barrier that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn't help but feel. "I don't know what to do anymore," he said. "I just know I don't want to lose you." His words shattered what little resolve you had left.

And in that moment, everything that had been building between you, the unspoken, the impossibleㅡ became undeniable. It was wrong. It was selfish. But here he was, standing before you, asking you for something you both knew you could never truly have. And for a moment, it didn't matter that it was wrong

You let out a shaky breath, your voice barely a whisper. "One night," you murmured. "Just... one night."

Joel froze. His eyes searched yours, and for a second, it seemed as if he might say no. But then his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you toward him, his lips catching yours in a kiss that was deeper this time, hungry, urgent. There were no more words between you, just the frantic need to close the distance between your hearts, to feel something real, even if it was only for one night.

As his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer, there was a fleeting moment of clarity,a brief flash of the consequences. But it was swallowed up by the heat of the kiss, the intoxicating feeling of finally giving in to the desire that had been burning between you for years,

It was wrong. It was a mistake

But as Joel's lips moved against yours again, you forgot about everything else. Joel’s hand slid to your wrist before you could pull away, a firm, steady grip that tugged you gently toward him, toward the quiet behind the chaos. The party’s laughter and chatter were left in the distance, fading as you followed him, the night air thick with tension.

"We should go to a room," he whispered, his voice hoarse and urgent, almost pleading. "The party still has a few more hours before it ends. Don't worry, baby. It'll all be okay. She won’t even notice we're gone." You looked at him, heart racing, mind reeling, torn between the gravity of his words and the electric heat still burning in your chest from the kiss. He was leading you, his hand wrapped around your wrist, guiding you through the garden, toward the back of the house where the guest rooms lay hidden behind thick foliage and shadows.

You followed, not because you were sure, but because the pull between you was undeniable. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, and maybe you didn’t want to. His pace quickened as he sensed your hesitation, his breath hitching, more desperate now, as though he needed you to understand. "We can’t keep doing this," he said, his tone a mix of anger and longing. "We can’t keep pretending like we don’t feel it. This—" he glanced back at you, "this is what we've been needing for so long."

You could barely catch your breath as you stepped into the hallway of the house, away from the party. The muffled noise of music and chatter was barely a memory now. The quiet was heavier, more intimate. And when you finally stopped, your back pressed against the closed door of a guest room, you both stood there in the dim room, hearts pounding like they were about to burst.

His hands were still on you, strong but gentle, but this time, they didn’t move to pull you in. Instead, he lingered, his fingers barely grazing the skin of your arms as though he was afraid of breaking something fragile—something that might never be repaired.

"Joel..." Your voice was soft, porcelain, and it trembled in the stillness of the room. "Please.." you can hear him mumble a soft 'fuck' before his lips crash onto the exposed skin on your neck, his hands roaming your body like he's been waiting to do this for a thousand years. he quickly manages to discard the jacket of his tuxedo and unzip the back of your dress, your hair that was neatly pulled up now down on your shoulders. "You're so beautiful, baby. Always have beenㅡ god, I was so stupid not doin' this earlier." Your mind reeled, cunt pulsimg. You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, trying to steady your pulse. the fire between you crackled and burned hotter, and for tonight, you gave into it.

"Joel, please, justㅡ touch me, please.." he nods his head. "fuck, yeah, okay. You sound so pretty when you're desperate." you shudder at his words, a soft moan slipping from your lips. " 'm gonna fuck you tonight 'n make up for all of the nights i didn't." that was a promise.

you were now almost fully naked, the only thing covering your body was a soft, laced, white set you had on. "Pretty girl." he begins to discard those items from you too, but removes only the bra, leaving the white panties on. you look up at him, his presence swallowing you whole. without words you reach our hands out, promptly placing them on the hem of his pants and starting to unbuckle the belt he had on. you fingers fumble from the tension, but you finally do it. you trail you fingers onto his abdomen, drawing small hearts before you hear him growl. he picks you up swiftly and throws you on the bed settled in the middle of the room. his pants come undone so he pulls them off fully. "Spread your legs, baby." you do, your pussy spilling over the lace that barely covered anything. his rough fingertips trace your clothed folds, making you look away. "Look at me. Look at me, tell me what you want."

"Want you, Joel.." he hums. he pulls the panties to the side, eyes fixed on the way your cunt glistened under the dim light. its not long before he gets on his knees between your legs. "sweet girl. been dyin' to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"Sure you want this, darlin?" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours again, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

"want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you whimper pathetically at his dirty words. dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

joel pressed himself against you, his briefs now fully off. fuck, he was huge. his leaking tip was pressing against your folds. "so wet, baby. all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

" 's all for y-ou, Joel ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. be drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down again and again, as if he didn't make you wait long enough for it. after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased. "My little girl, takin' my cock so well."

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ you were in a dream for sure. joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " You were hanging on the mattress for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you. he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you hips, his moves now more ragged.

"shitㅡ whish I married you, baby.." he says through grunts, palms still gripping your hips. "Wish it were you there in that dress. 'm sorryㅡ" you cry a little louder as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. "let me put a baby in you, sweet girl, we can run away andㅡ fuck, run away and be happy. have our own little family." your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Joel, Iㅡ"

"You'd want that? imma make you a mommaㅡ my pretty wife, god."

" 'm s-so close, Joel, please "

"I know, baby, I know. Y-You go ahead." With a few more snaps of his hips, you're both coming, bodies writhing, as his head falls upon your chest. For a long, heavy moment, the world outside the room seemed to vanish. All that was left was the two of you, in that silent little room.

Joel pulls out, making you moan. He watches intently as his seed drips out of you, licking his lips as a palm rubs your lower belly. He hopes it'll stick.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

[lynnieverse]

fresh out the slammer // rafe cameron

oneshot

first love!rafe cameron x heartbroken!reader

synopsis: you just ended things with your boyfriend and find yourself driving to the only person you'd ever called home...

𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖…𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒐...

♡

The rain pelted against the windshield in waves as you white-knuckled the steering wheel. Deep breaths kept the sobs at bay, but they still clawed at your throat. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, you thought. How could it have taken so long to leave?

The soft melody of a familiar tune began, causing you to shakily twist the volume knob, letting the lyrics wash over the ache. 

Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder, he don’t understand me…

He never did. Never would. 

Flashes of awkward conversations and forced laughter blurred together, a montage of things left unsaid.

Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, He was with her in dreams…

A tear trailed down, taking you back to the moment everything changed. The front door swinging open, the stupid excitement bubbling in your chest, the bright smile that disappeared the second the bedroom door cracked open. 

Him. Her. Together. 

Her breathy moans echoed in the back of your mind. Seeing his face contorted in pleasure as you watched, horrified. Your name had been on his lips that morning. Hers was now.

And now here you were—alone, cold, licking wounds all the way back to the place you swore never to return. You’d moved away for a reason, trading in the tight-knit community for big city life. You thought it’d be good for your writing, getting new life experience and being close to the big publishing houses. 

You’d left OBX in the dust, gone, never to be seen again. Except here you were, on your way back after your whole life blew up in a matter of hours. 

The thought of dragging yourself back to the front door of your parents’ house made bile rise to the back of your throat. Mom’s pity. Dad’s quiet disappointment. No, that wasn’t an option. Not yet.  

Before the decision had fully processed, the car veered down a familiar street. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, every streetlight leading you back to him. 

Then, there it was. 

The nerves started then, going haywire. The car eased to a stop by the mailbox.

One knock away. 

Fuck.

He probably wouldn’t even want to see you. 

The stone steps were slick with rainfall as you approached, the tiny droplets seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. You’re shivering as you raise your fist to the door. 

Tap tap tap. 

You waited for what felt like years, arms crossed over your stomach. Suddenly, the door swung open, and there he stood. Your eyes rake over his figure, taking in the low-hanging sweatpants and black tank top. He’d been working out, muscles more defined than you remembered. But his face, his eyes, they were the same. 

His mouth parted slightly, surprise evident as he stared, like he was unsure if he could trust his own eyes. A beat of silence stretched between you. Then another…and another. Doubt clouded your mind, embarrassment creeped in. Your voice trembled, barely above a whisper. 

“I…I’m sorry. This was stupid, I should go.” You turn around on your heel and start jogging back to the car, eager to get out of the rain, and away from Rafe. You’re almost at the end of the driveway when a warm hand encloses around your wrist, pulling you to a stop. 

“Wait,” his soft voice pleads. You close your eyes at the sound, having missed it all these years. When you turn around, he’s close enough that his face is inches from yours. Muscle memory begs you to pull him closer, to feel his skin and taste his lips. The water had soaked you both to the bone by now, causing full body shakes. Rafe wordlessly pulls you back to the front door, urging you through the threshold and into the dryness of the mud room. 

Droplets dripped from the stringy strands of hair cascading down your back, a small puddle forming. Rafe disappeared for a moment before returning with two towels, draping one over your shoulders. His hands linger for a moment, like he wants to touch you, pull you in, but he doesn’t. You hug the soft material close, looking up and watching him dry off. 

“Come on, I’ll get you some clothes.” You follow him up the stairs, knowing the route like the back of your hand, before stopping in his doorway. It felt weird being in his space again, almost taboo, but one wave of his hand had you by his side in a heartbeat. He stacked sweatpants and a hoodie in your arms, and left you alone to change, closing the door behind him. 

You marvel at how things have changed; the old Rafe would have never kept this clean of a room. Even his bed was made. Shaking your head you strip, toweling off and forcing the large hoodie over your head. It smelled like him. Sandalwood and whiskey. Intoxicating. 

The sweatpants were a little long, and you have to tie them pretty tight, but they fit, instantly warming up your goosebump ridden legs. When you swing his bedroom door open, Rafe looks up. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and in dry clothes. He looks you up and down, something flashing in his eyes, before clearing his throat. 

“So…” 

You break eye contact, suddenly all that embarrassment flooding back. “I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” you mumble. He moves, standing right in front of you. Gripping your chin, he tilts your head up, forcing you to keep eye contact.  

“Of course I want to see you, baby. Why wouldn’t I?” His voice is quiet, careful, like the answer might break him. That name. You hadn’t heard it in so long, not from his lips. “I thought you’d never come back.” The sadness in his voice, the way his hands moved to caress your cheeks…it was too much. All at once, the dam broke. Your broken sobs fill the silent hallway, tears soaking your cheeks. Without hesitation he wraps you in his arms, resting his chin atop your head. 

You’d been locked away for so long, judgement clouded by the perfect fantasy life you’d built up in your head. You thought you were happy, but then why was he swirled into all of your poems? He had always been your muse, and that never changed no matter how far you strayed. You nearly laughed at how blind you’d been. But you did your time, and ran back home. To him. Rafe. The arms tightly wrapped around you confirmed what you already knew––you should have never left. 

So you let him lift you up, wrap your legs around his torso, and carry you to his bed. You both know a conversation is well overdue, but at this moment, nothing else matters. You have each other, and everything’s going to be alright. 

[logansdoll]

thinking about logan x reader who’s literally the most introverted but bluntest person he’s ever met. that meet-cute (if it could be called that…?) would be entertaining as hell

cottontail

wolverines are known to prey on rabbits... which would explain why Logan was looking at you like that.

CW: fluffy fluff, heavily suggestive, profanity, i kinda changed it up a bit, takes place after X-Men (2000), reader is a bit of a personality, reader also has a bunny mutation, again kinda iffy on how this turned out, etc. (@OstarwomenO for the inspiration)

"And, finally, the gym," Ororo finished, motioning toward the door. "Much like the Danger Room, we use it to train or spar, but strictly without powers."

Logan cocked a brow, ears perking at the faint sound of music coming from the other side of the door, along with the rhythmic thuds of limbs slamming against a mat.

'Huh...'

Ororo insisted on giving him the official tour of the mansion now that he was back from his trip to Alkali, seeing as she never got the chance to when he first arrived.

And, of course—Logan being Logan—he waved her off, insisting he'd be able to figure it out.

But the woman did not take no for an answer.

"Someone in there?" he asked, shifting his cigar to the side of his mouth as his thumb jutted toward the door.

"Just (y/n)," she shrugged, an amused smile rising her to lips. "It's actually kinda ironic, she rolled in about an hour before you did yesterday."

That was the new smell he picked up on.

It was the same one the hallway was currently drowning in—not that he was complaining.

It was sweet and musky, with faint, floral notes and a smidgen bit of earth—like taking a breath of fresh air in the middle of a meadow.

"And I didn't run into her?" Logan raised a brow, feigning indifference.

Ororo let out a dry chuckle, as if she was in on a joke he wasn't, "(y/n)'s a... character. She kinda does her own thing around here."

Character?

Forget indifference, the man was intrigued.

"I can introduce you if you'd like," she nodded, her eyes widening slightly, remembering something. "Fair warning, she says whatever she wants. So just... don't be shocked when she says something appalling. She's a sweetheart once you get to know her."

'Jesus...'

She made it sound like he was about to meet some sort of feral grizzly bear.

Logan shrugged, and she let out a sigh, pressing the keypad and opening up the door to reveal you.

Grizzly?

No.

Feral?

Entirely possible.

With a wide grin, you weaved around, dodging jabs from the automated dummy before back-flipping onto the wall and pushing off like a spring.

Tackling the robot, you slammed its head into the ground, winding for a second blow when it suddenly bucked you off.

You recovered quickly, shifting in mid-air so you landed on your feet, before launching another attack.

Jumping high, you landed right on the dummy's shoulders, locking your thighs around its neck before effortlessly throwing around your body weight, sending it crashing to the ground

But that wasn't it.

With a soft grunt, and a small twist of your legs, you popped its head right off in a flourish of sparks and circuits—the action sending a warm tingle through Logan's stomach.

'Damn...'

You pulled yourself up off the ground with a laugh, grabbing the robot's body and tossing it in a pile in the corner—which consisted of at least twenty others.

"Finally," you sighed, jokingly, as the two entered further.

You sauntered over to your boombox and cut the music, dusting off your hands.

"This is a disgrace. How the hell are the kids supposed to learn from these things, 'Roro? They barely last two minutes."

She playfully rolled her eyes, fighting off her smile as she pulled you into a hug, "I hope you know you're paying for those."

You chuckled, giving her a loving pat on the back, "Put 'em on my tab."

Logan was still transfixed.

In all his years, he had never seen a mutant like you before.

(h/l), (h/c) hair, plump lips, heavenly curves, made evident by your workout clothes, or slight lack thereof, stark white bunny ears, equally white tail, paired with alluring (e/c) eyes.

You were dripping in beauty and confidence.

Logan, so mesmerized, didn't even realize that you'd already cruised your way over, and were now standing directly in front him.

"I take it you're Logan," you smiled, shamelessly staring at him. "If I knew you were this handsome, I woulda introduced myself sooner."

"(n/n)," Ororo scolded, pinching the bridge of her nose.

'Here we go...'

"Is that so?" Logan smirked, amused by your blunt start to the conversation.

"Hell yeah," you nodded, shifting you weight on your hips

You weren't stupid.

You saw the way he was staring at you, and you heard the way his heart frenzied when you walked over.

So what's to say you couldn't have a little fun?

After all, it wasn't every day you'd meet someone as sexy as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding.

"Of course, I could always do that over a few rounds."

His brow quirked with interest, eyes slowly flitting over your body at the proposition.

"On the mat, that is..." you chuckled, reading him loud and clear as you turned to walk toward the sparring area, stretching out your arms.

"That works, too," he grinned, tugging off his leather jacket.

"You two are doing this? Really?" Ororo groaned, resting a hand on her hip.

"Yup."

"She asked for it."

Ororo sighed, deciding to check herself out for the day and head for the door.

"Y'know what? Knock yourselves out. I'm gonna take a nap," she waved, turning the corner. "Don't break anything."

Logan scoffed, cracking his neck as he stepped onto his side of the circle, "No promises..."

You grinned, pleasantly surprised by his seriousness.

Many assume that because of your mutation, you're just some helpless little rabbit—as kids, you and Scott got into a huge argument when you caught him pulling his punches.

But Logan seemed ready to throw down, a fact that not only excited you, but made the man move up a great many rungs in your respect ladder.

"You sure you want this?" you smirked, lowering yourself into a split, stretching your legs. "I don't go easy."

'Goddamn, how flexible is she—'

"Neither do I," he snapped himself back, playing it off with a chuckle. "Let's see how long you last."

You scoffed, tongue in cheek as you stood up, shifting into a defensive stance.

'I'm gonna kick your ass, mutton chops."

"I'd like to see ya try, cottontail."

[obsesssedblerd]

au where older brother! sukuna realizes just how much he loves his little brother when he's sick.

--

Sukuna is always pretending that he doesn't care for his younger brother, Yuuji. Always throws him around when they're play fighting, jumps out and scares him just because he thinks it's funny, and eats his snacks to get a rise out of him. Typical mean older brother behavior.

But then one morning, it takes the five year-old a little too long to get out of bed.

Sukuna immediately notices how quiet he is and the look of discomfort on his face when he finally makes it to the table for breakfast. Yuuji is usually so quick to devour his food, but today, he's not even touching it, even though it's his favorite breakfast that Sukuna makes for him all of the time despite his grumpy complaints.

"Eat your food, brat. If you keep waiting, it'll get cold," Sukuna grumbles as he nudges the fork next to the boy's plate.

Yuuji silently grabs the fork, unaware of his oldest brother watching him like a hawk. He gathers a forkful of food but drops it with a barely-audible whimper, as if he were in pain. Sukuna has never heard him make that sound before, and his gut twists as his mind starts to run wild. "Can't," he whines. "Don't feel good, Kuna."

"Don't feel good how? If you're—" The room resounds with his loud gasp when Yuuji suddenly whips around faces the ground and vomits. Sukuna's arm shoots forward to stop the young boy from falling off of the chair and onto the floor. "Shit," he hisses through his teeth.

Once he was finished, Yuuji faces him. His labored breathing, teary eyes and trembling body made Sukuna's heart ache within his ribs. "I'm sorry," Yuuji says, and he makes that pained, whimpering sound again. "Know you hate w-when I make a mess. My tummy hurts."

"No, 's okay," Sukuna whispers as he rubs his back in an attempt to comfort him. His crimson eyes are still wide, and his heart is beating so fast and so loud that he can hear it in his ears. "You're okay. It can be cleaned up. Do you feel better?"

Yuuji shakes his head quietly. Sukuna tries to get Yuuji to go to his room to lay down, but he struggles to leave the table. So, he gently lifts him into his arms, avoiding the mess on the floor and walks down the hallway. Sukuna stops by the bathroom and has him rinse his mouth with some mouthwash, then makes it to Yuuji's bedroom and lays him in bed.

"Just stay here, okay? Hey, look, here's your tiger!" Sukuna holds up Yuuji's favorite stuffed animal to try and cheer him up, and his heart sinks when the kid doesn't react excitedly as he usually does. He doesn't gasp happily, his eyes don't light up, and he doesn't smile. Yuuji just weakly tugs the tiger towards him and cuddles against it with a low whine.

"If you need to throw up again, use this bucket, okay? I'll be back in a little bit." Sukuna places an empty trash can next to Yuuji's bed, then leaves his room, going straight back to the kitchen so he can find the cause of his sickness. His mind races as he goes through the contents of the fridge.

He said his stomach hurts. It had to have been something he ate yesterday. Breakfast was the same as usual, we went to that restaurant for lunch, and I made dinner yesterday. The meat was cooked all the way through and the vegetables were fresh. So, maybe it was what he ate at that restaurant for lunch? What could've made him throw up?

Shit, speaking of, he still needed to clean the mess from earlier. He closes the fridge, cleans up the floor, then looks at Yuuji's untouched plate of food. He had to get him to eat somehow.

As Sukuna's putting away the cleaning supplies, he hears Yuuji whine again. He drops what's in his hands and rushes back into his room, only to wince when sees him coughing after throwing up into the bucket he left. Like before, Yuuji frantically apologizes, even though he's begun crying because of the discomfort. "Why are you apologizing, brat? You got into the bucket, so..." Sukuna trails off as he starts thinking about it.

He's apologizing so much because I shout at him so much.

Any little mess, any little mistake that kids his age usually make, any accident at all, and Sukuna would get upset at him. Though Yuuji loves Sukuna and isn't afraid to show it, he's developed a habit of apologizing for every little thing, and it's led to this; him, telling him that he's sorry even though he's sick.

The revelation has him feeling a bit nauseous now. He looks down at his baby brother, who's now laying on his bed with his eyes shut and sniffling, and soothingly strokes his head. "I'm sorry, Yuuji," Sukuna's apology is too quiet, and since Yuuji is exhausted and half-asleep, he doesn't hear it. "I'm gonna help you get better. Promise."

Yuuji takes a small nap as Sukuna frantically searches the internet for an answer, each click only adding to his fear and anxiety. Over the next few hours, Yuuji cycles between refusing food, throwing up, and sleeping. Sukuna knew that he was going to have to get him to a hospital, and he knows how much Yuuji hates hospitals since his grandfather passed away. It would only add to the boy's discomfort.

But he didn't have a choice. If this kept up, it would only get worse. He hasn't eaten anything. As he cleaned up another accident that Yuuji had, all he could think of was how much he missed hearing him laugh as he chased him around, his mischievous giggles as he popped him with rubber bands or drawing stick figures and trying his best to get his tattoos right. Seeing him so sick, so weak, and hearing him cry like this was gut-wrenching.

He's reaching for his phone. Since his car is currently in the shop for repairs—thanks, Gojo—, he's going to need to ask someone for help. Choso is out of town, so there's no point in calling him. But, he does know someone else who will drop everything for Yuuji.

He calls you.

---

pt. 2 coming soon. promise. <3

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle (Here) | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: Putting all my brain rot from my notes into something cohesive. Contrary to my love for ripping your hearts out, I've come with some fluff this time around. BTW you may or may not already do things mentioned - I write my works with a specific Yuu in mind for each character so this is based on them. Just a reminder.

Habits You Steal:

Bargaining (Inherited AND Developed): No partner of Azul's is a shmuck. Not because of his standards (a little bit), but because you will learn to negotiate through trial and error. Being his pearl does not exclude you from daily verbal tango. He can and will still come after Ramshackle if given the opportunity. What? Just come stay in Octavinelle. He won't even charge for it, and you can bring Grim. He is always three steps ahead. Buying him a present is like the world's most daunting task, because he somehow already knows what's inside the box. Every. Time. Even if you shop a year in advance. Don't even start with arguments. He has a rebuttal for EVERYTHING. There is never a winner, only a settlement because he is so stubborn (and you equally so. Pride is contagious). As adults you're constantly exposed to business deals and sometimes have to deal with handling negotiations. Not to mention people with grudges against Azul attempting to shmooze their way through you. Only to find that you are just as manipulative.

"Pearl, Jade says that our deal with the Bas triplets for the next semester has been renewed? I hadn't scheduled their extension meeting until the first Saturday of next month. Would you have anything to say on this?" <- Long story short, the triplets tracked you down to beg for help in getting out of their work contract with Azul. He was always fair, and they entered willingly. No corruption on his part...but they were hell bent on not working in the kitchens with Floyd anymore. Solution? You managed to shmooze an extra week on their terms, in exchange for not being put on Floyd's shift anymore. Azul is so proud - but don't do that again. You're the one telling Floyd he doesn't get to play 'spot the difference' with the triplets anymore. Not him.

Smell Sensitivity (Developed): Nothing shanks the nostrils like sea brine. No pun intended. Lingering around Octavinelle equates to constantly smelling fish. Most students there come from the coral sea and don't mind it. Others only stop in for a quick bite to eat, and don't stay a moment more. The Mostro Lounge just has a potent smell that can't be found anywhere else. Like McDonald's french fries...but fish. Grim loves it, you now get nauseated when a scented candle is lit.

"Must you pinch your nose? Think of my- Octavinelle's reputation for a moment" <- Azul is brewing a scent masking potion as we speak. You're really hitting his pride here, even if you can't help it.

Glasses Wipes (Developed): Octopunk heats up when you so much as touch him in public. Then his glasses get foggy. If you wear makeup, its smears on his skin (to which he acts unbothered, but we all know it's a ruse). He obviously carries a hankey but having some wipes on hand is a nice gesture. Unnecessary, but sweet-ish.

Refined Pallet (Inherited): The cup ramen and foraged greens just do not cut it anymore. Not when Azul's made a VIP menu over at the lounge just for you. Sure, the place has a variety of options but he'll always get Floyd to cook up whatever you're in the mood for. At a discount (since Grim can eat him out of pocket). Have you ever had 100% dark, sea-salt chocolate imported from the coral sea? Ever tasted it in a rich devil's cake, baked fresh with only the best ingredients? Betty Crocker, who???

"I must say, your diet could still use some work - do not look at me that way. The twins found your hidden stash of instant noodles during our 'occupation' at Ramshackle. Under the stairs, pearl? Really? When was the last time your sodium was checked?"

Aversion to Sea Food (Developed): You will never understand how the Coral Sea students are okay with the Mostro Lounge. Neither what was running through Azul's head when he decided to open a SEA FOOD restaurant. Honestly? Red flag. One you ignored, but still a red flag. The existence of merpeople and therianthropes is still new and novel to you. To each their own, but you can't eat any sea creatures knowing that it could be - no, it can't be? Floyd's always joking that Azul is tasty but...it's just a joke, right?

"As much as Floyd loves to special make your chicken strips with wedges...why do you never order from the public menu? I assure you, Mostro Lounge is supplied with only the highest quality - h-huh? What crazy thoughts are you having?! Honestly!" <- This explains so much. He always thought you stared at the food with envy, because Grim would eat your pocket out and leave you to sip on lemon water. He had to force the special 'vip' meals down your throat at the start. is this why you're so uncomfortable having lunch with Floyd and his weekly Takoyaki binge?

Appraisal (Developed): Ever see those shows where a professional goes around to antique markets, and can point out forgeries, fake gems, etc. by eye? That is Azul. He's a collector of gadgets and gizmos aplenty - anyway. Strolls through antique marts, coin collecting showcases, and other marketing events will undoubtably train the eye over time. No scammer will ever shmooze ya out of house and home. Sorry Sam.

Habits He Steals:

Jacket (Developed): Mermen run cold. The uniform blazer Azul dons is more-so just for show than anything. Clothes are overall a novel concept, since most in the coral sea dress minimalistic (or not at all). The lounge runs quite chilly as well. Not enough to deter customers, but the perfect temperature to get uncomfortable after a few hours. Now Azul has many jealous bones in his body, and would rather drop dead than see one of the leech twins loan out their blazer so you can nap in the back room (they're doing it on purpose). Azul often offers his coat out to you the moment you walk inside - so often, that all the part-time workers know if you're on lot if he's walking without it.

"I need my jacket back, please. Why? N-no particular reason. Do I need an excuse to wear my own clothes?" <- Ruggie - Mostro Lounge's most reliable and simultaneously difficult part timer, mind you - was the first to pick up the correlation. If the VIP lounge was shut, and Azul was out doing quality rounds? It meant you were in the back, and he was in a better mood. The perfect time to sneak a platter unnoticed. Azul must take precautions.

Snitches Get Stitches (Developed): ONE perk of living with ghosts. Honey you get ALL the tea on campus. You just need to butter them up with a game of pranks and it’s ripe for the taking. Now, who do you think is going to make full use of this? Azul. They won’t give it to him directly because it’s more fun to make him frustrated. Which means he has to go through you. *Which means* he gets very crafty in buttering you up for details.

Midnight Hour (Developed): This mainly applies to his adult years. Wherever he goes - business or otherwise - you come with more often than not. As a youth his dealings were important - yes. Yet he was still getting his swimming legs in business and his primary demographic was students. Contrary to his pride, Azul wasn't someone important. Someone actually worth targeting like the Briar Prince. The real world is much more risky. You can help with negotiations and running facilities. You might 'think' he is tossing you into the end zone with all his ambitions...but no. Any dealings with high-stake confrontations are handled only after midnight.

"Two-o-clock in the am hours. That is the latest I can offer - well, it seems we've reached an impasse. This deal clearly is not worth my effort, if such 'accommodations' are beyond your capabilities. Allow one of my partners to escort you off the premises." <- Let's make one thing clear. No contract is ever worth putting you at risk. One twin (usually Jade) will remain at his side, the other (Floyd...because he's honestly not the best for negotiations. More guard dog material, and has fun hanging out with you) back with at the house/hotel. Azul doesn't trust 'anyone', and the Leech family is obviously in business with him. He takes no chances, screw probability, and can't kill the inner control-nerd in him. He's never out past three-am and would rather you feel a bit left out then dead somewhere in the Stillwater.

Land Legs (Developed): Considering he will be on land more for the foreseeable future, Azul puts more effort to building his land legs. Not that he wasn't trying before, but there wasn't any guarantee that he'd be working the land beyond NRC. So with the reassurance that 'something' (someone) will require his attention on shore, he decides to invest the effort. Azul will not get on one of those flying deathtraps past academy years though. He's getting a license and pulling up in a new Bugatti.

Pictures (Inherited): Much to Azul's chagrin, you love photos. Maybe it's because you have little to recall from your own world. Maybe it's because you're in the photography club. Maybe it's because you love his misery - but you are always taking photos. At first he insisted that you never get him in the frame. He hates them. Still does, do not misunderstand...and the idea of someone having so many with him included eats him up. Yet his insistent denials do lessen, and he tolerates them. You cannot post them anywhere. Yet...he will only 'mildly' grimace when looking at them around your house. Only because who the heck is coming over that he hasn't approved of?

"This picture? Ah...that is my dear pearl. They are breathtaking, are they not? I truly am the most fortunate man alive. Ah. My apologies, let's return to discussing the contract terms. May I see your completed punch-card?" <- And because you're in them too. As a youth, he kept your photo on his desk in the lounge. Sometimes a client would ask about you, and he'd lapse for a moment before folding the frame down and out of their view. He'd tuck it away whenever you came around, but would talk to it when alone. About his day, his work, whatever first year came crying because Floyd used them as a dart board - and dare I say that he'd keep a family photo in your later years together. Azul hates pictures of himself, but not as much as he loves ones of you. Look at him. Big softie.

—

"Of course. I have remarkable potential as an instructor, do I not? Is it not a great fortune to have me as one's partner? Take this as a lesson that your boss can influence even the most lost souls." == Azul shows no reservation. The moment he caught two part-timers gossiping about your 'conversion' to the 'dark side'. Why, he was positively beaming. His grin wide with a touch of something sinister. Gossip is fine, but they should know better than to do so in his den. Anything noteworthy would undoubtably reach his ears with time, but oh was it a joy to watch them squirm. Honestly. They're fortunate that he's in such a good mood - what was intended to be slandering has just made his day. They're still getting put on shift with Floyd though. He's merciful, yet no martyr.

Habits you steal:

Foraging (Inherited): You are always looking around for plants to propagandize. It's like stealing but not - because Crowley doesn't have any 'rules' about it so...heh. Free food. Jade's a living encyclopedia when it comes to botany and agriculture. He's the whole reason you've got a mini apothecary going in the kitchen and that instant-noodle stash got amped up in flavor. What? you ever add some fresh mushrooms and green onions to that instant chicken yakisoba? Mwah. The mountain lover's club needs to look out, 'cause the Ramshackle Prefect is about to bleed campus dry for every last specimen.

Yapping (Developed): Spinning off the above 'route'. Many people think Floyd's the talkative twin. Nah. This motherf*cker does NOT shut up. He treats you like his second conscience, asking questions he doesn't expect to be answered and giving commentary like your own personal narrator. Who needs thoughts when he literally says everything before you can think it? Floyd salutes you - 'cause finally. Finally, it isn't him subjected to Jade's inner spiels. Sorry Shrimpy, you are a sacrifice he's willing to make. If you ever break up or fight with Jade - Floyd's going to hunt you down - he can never go back. Never.

On a side note, you're an excellent listener now.

Tea (Inherited): Do you hate tea? No you don't. Not Jade's tea. There isn't much to comment on here, other than you will develop a taste for his Atlantic Twice-Seeped Water-Lily brew. You'll be craving it every night if ever sent back to our world (as if that'll happen). Mixed with honey from the Afterglow Savannah and served in a baby-blue ceramic cup that has a shimmer handle. That's your mug, by the way. He has other brews...some improvised and caution is indeed extended. They're tasty for the most part though.

“Ah, just smell that aroma. I developed this blend made just for you, my dear. I’m not one to seek out sweet floral notes for my tea, yet this flavor is an acquired taste that pulls you in for more. I finish the cup without realizing each time” -> Jade can be sweet himself, when he wants to be.

Wearing gloves (Developed): Jade makes you touch weird shit. All the time. Unprompted. He also makes you eat weird shit, but more often than not you can escape by shoveling his experiments onto someone he can get a more interesting reaction out of. Classically condition him not to feed you the weird shit by being unresponsive - off topic. Point is that with his obscene collection of terrariums? Plus being pulled along for foraging quests? You will be touching unknown and possibly poisonous plants, bugs, dirt, maybe some aquatic creatures like toads and fish. For all that is good, keep a pack of rubber gloves in your schoolbag. Keep a pair of insulated leather gloves in your breast pocket at all times too. Hand Sanitizer as well. Who knows when you’ll be elbow deep in murky water riddled with mysterious rainbow moss. What makes it rainbow? You don’t know and Jade won’t say. He does quip that it changes colors with emotions. Screw Twisted Wonderland and it’s freakish botany.

“Oh my, would you look at that vibrant shade of purple. Why are you so frightened? These are meant to be happy ‘bonding’ times for us as a couple, isn’t that what you said? Fufu - oh. Hurry up and put it in this jar. You’ll ruin the sample at this pace,” <- In truth, Jade saw red blooming at the edges of the moss and called quits before your nerves turned to anger. Fear? Amusing. Especially since you have more harmful ‘house plants’ growing on the mantle back at your dorm. Curtesy of Jade himself, of course. Azul doesn’t let him store his more precarious collection in Octavinelle and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. Yet he won’t push the jokes too far, since so few ever come out foraging with him. No no. He needs you to continue as a willing participant. Don’t get angry at him just yet, there are still so many places to explore and the day is young!

Doppelgänger Paranoia (Developed): The Leech twins tried to pull that shit where they swapped places for a day. Therefore you are now freakishly paranoid of Floyd trying to take Jade’s place to pull a prank. It is no help that Floyd is insanely good at mimicking his brother and vice versa. Sure, you could make a keyword or ask Jade to wear something special as a give away. Mark him. Maybe make an excuse of it being a thing human couples do and stick a pin on his lapel. Yet there isn’t a guarantee that he won’t just let Floyd in on it to see what happens. He’s a jerk like that, but your jerk nonetheless.

“Your caution is entertaining, and I do find all this extra attention flattering. Yet there are more taxing worries to mull over, wouldn’t you agree? Surely I’ve earned enough trust to circumvent any doubts in that mind of yours?” -> Do you know that the twin-swap was just a one time trick? Probably not. Doing it again would be boring with no novel results, but Jade does love watching you squirm with suspicion. He’ll offer an assurance eventually, and it will be your call to believe him or not. Until then? He has no problem being under your watchful eye. It’s quite cute, after all.

Habits he steals:

Grammar Control (Developed): Purely to piss you off. Coming from another world - your dialect isn't exactly the same as everyone in Twisted Wonderland. There are region specific languages, and then there is the common tongue. For simplicities sake, let's just say that everyone in TWST can speak common tongue and transferring over gave you this ability. Except (like Epel) you carry a heavy accent - and Jade loves to play grammar police. Your irritation never ceases to amuse him. That's right. He's the train kid from the 'Polar Express'. Just less nasal.

“Let’s try to capture that illusive letter ‘R’, shall we? You don’t want to give onlookers any more ammunition as a respectable prefect.”-> Says the only person using this as ammunition, except for Ace when he gets really snappy and Riddle’s mild cringe when your accent butchers a toast at the Unbirthday party. At this point you’re hearing ‘red leather, yellow leather’ and ‘mark went on a lark after dark’ in your sleep.

Routes (Developed): Another one with the need to have a bit of control. Just a bit. Get ready to roll out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn, because he will be there at five-am sharp to haul you back to Octavinelle (or on a hike. Saturday's only). Isn't it a human custom to stick close to your partner? He's just making sure you're cared for. Which is why you exist attached to his hip most days

Symbiosis 1 (Developed): Only a mild-note for Jade. His brother, noted below, takes this concept more to heart. Jade uses it as an enhancing factor to an already “well-rounded” relationship. The law of the sea dictates that those stronger will enter a ‘pact’ with weaker creatures - protection in exchange for care. You are not in need of protection with that frosh posse and stubborn head of yours. Jade mostly uses this ‘symbiotic relationship’ as a way to get you to do things for him, and to talk down your impulsive behaviors from time to time. Aka you won’t create excessive trouble if it means he feels ‘bound’ to go with (as if he wouldn’t be overjoyed to get in some chaos)

Observation (Developed?): Jade...knows everything about you. It's infuriating (to you, not him), but you are still a potential client regardless of his personal interest. Hobbies, tastes, your worst and best subject, weaknesses -all categorized. Azul and his business come first. Yet you're the only student on campus that has a 'doctored' file. Why?

“I never realized you are adverse to crowds. Yet you handle navigating Night Raven with no difficulties? Is this a mere preference, or would you prefer to find somewhere quiet while I accompany the others? What do you need?” -> (During Playful Land Event) He can't get the finer details without asking questions. There is no source for information about your world or your person other than your word of mouth. His unique magic would be easy - but it's just one question. One, and you might be too resilient for a response. Where's the fun? What makes this a habit is that Jade's keen eye becomes sharper.

Ramshackle (Developed): Bro just moved in. I’m serious. He got permission by pulling a favor. Azul doesn’t let him keep the more precarious plants in Octavinelle, so Jade has overtaken the kitchen with potted flora and fungi. Floyd is enthusiastic that he doesn't have to share a room - what? Twins don't always stick together. Those two probably fight more than they get along. Plus with Jade at Ramshackle it's an excuse to go see what's up with Shrimpy and maybe play with torture the little freshies you hang around with. It’s chapter three but you aren't booted out and have to deal with both Leeches every day. Seven preserve you.

—

“I let my excitement get the better of me for a moment…please, continue as if I am not here. My apologies.” == How rare for Jade’s mask to slip in front of his underclassmen. He was able to brush it off - giving a fib about his clubs upcoming excursion (not entirely untrue. He is excited to go for a hike with you this weekend). Yet the normally dull gossip of his dorm-mates was too much to bare. Not because your changes are becoming more pronounced, but because these little fish are foolish enough to think it’s making him soft. Enough to gossip so blatantly in his earshot? Gods, they make his job much too easy.

Habits you steal:

Leering (Inherited): Floyd...oh dear. He has this habit of staring holes into the back of your head. Anyone's head, really. His presence is intimidating, and it's hard not to pick up what’s going on in his head. There's a catch to this though. You only leer at other people when he isn't around. Too busy with the man in question to bother 'people-watching' (unless you're actually pissed). Riddle is constantly on edge now because he has TWO people giving him the heebee-jeebies. Prefect, it was bad enough you were taking influence from ADeuce. Now the Leech brothers? Well, he'd still take you over Floyd any day. At least you won't try to act on that unsettling aura...yet.

“Somethin’ on my face?…why’re you staring at me like that? Unless you want my attention? Hehe, ya shoulda just said so!” <- Floyd can do it to you, but you can’t to him. Not unless you want to be suplexed and squished tightly for hours on end.

Impulse actions (Inherited): Chaotic energy anyone? Floyd needs a partner who is one of two things - can kick his ass on occasion so he'll play nice, or who will match his freak. Since matching the strength of a Moray Eel isn't something most humans can do? Well, maybe a bitch slap here or there but be aware he is letting it happen. Just know. Better be playful too, not no actual challenge. Point being- you need to match his freak. No buzz-kills.

“Ne Ne~ Yanno, I’ve never seen those super fancy fireworks you land people like to set off. Wanna go get some and rig the - eh? You already got them?….Hahaha Shrimpy’s getting gutsy. I’m so happy” -> His eyes are practically glowing with anticipation. You’re now Azul's third headache 1000%, someone get that man an Asprin.

Snacks (Developed): Floyd can EAT. The only one with a stronger appetite is Jade, but he has a better control over his hunger. While their bodies changed to look human, their appetites did not decrease. Going with ‘symbiosis,’ Floyd gets a bit needy and talks like you’re his internal clock. Jade’s the yapper but Floyd just expects you to know what he needs. So you will always be carrying a selection of snacks (Grim gets in on this) in your bag/purse. Also fidget toys. Not for eating, but to give him when you’re stuck anywhere particularly boring. Props if you can somehow get a two-in-one with the twisted wonderland equivalent of those Air Heads Pull-Aparts.

Lullaby and Goodnight (Developed) : Instant calming effect. Merfolk are very particular with music and are sensitive to vocals. Floyd in particular is super picky. You could be the worst singer on the planet (Floyd will give you half-assed lip for it if you are, in all fairness) but the easiest way to calm him down is with music. It’s cringey and unrealistic to us land-folk but there’s plenty of singing in Atlantica. So humming a soft lullaby for him while sitting together won’t earn any looks in Octavinelle. Unless you sound awful, to which he will punt anyone that speaks out. Not that they would, since a calm Floyd is a godsend no matter the means achieved.

“Did I say you could listen in, hah? Sounds to me like someone’s in the mood for ‘my’ kinda song….don’t move, Shrimpy. This’ll be quick.” <- Good or bad - doesn’t matter. Getting to hear you is Floyd’s privilege. He’s a bit possessive of it, to be frank. So if someone butts in when he’s in the middle of calming down, Floyd’s going to be pissed to the max.

The Little Mermaid (Inherited): Drags you down to the sea at every opportunity. Don’t fight him, just guzzle the vomit-inducing potion and get a move on. Floyd doesn’t care how much a mer-transfiguration potion costs, Azul can take care of it. Floyd hates being restrained to dry land, and hey. He’s up here, so it’s only fair you go down into the sea trenches too. Don’t worry, he won’t take you anywhere too dangerous. He’ll even teach you how to get your sea legs - fish legs? Look. He teaches you how to swim in your mer-form, which he is severely disappointed does not resemble a shrimp.

Habits he steals:

Phone Privileges (Developed) : Floyd’s cellphone is normally in DND mode at all times. The only exceptions are Azul and his Momma - Jade was one too up until they came to dry land. There’s only so many mushroom photos and long voicemails about random crap that Floyd can take. Oh - and you’re an exception now. He saves all your voicemails - some for callbacks to win arguments and others to play when he’s about to sleep. You just better be careful when you call him and what for, also always pick up if he calls you. Otherwise there’s going to be one angry eel lurking by your bedroom window. With ‘first-contact’ privileges, all the unflattering candid pics he has of you are just a click away from being shared if he feels like it (teases but wouldn’t do it. Well, unless you really are ignoring him. Be warned)

Using F*cking Doors(Inherited) : Yes. Yes, you read that right. Floyd loves to parkour across campus. The amount of times he’s snuck into Ramshackle through that tiny circle window in the attic is frustrating. You’re seriously considering bolting the thing shut if it keeps him off the roof and on the ground. Y’know, for someone who can’t fly a broom? He sure has no problem climbing brick walls with his bare hands like some kinda cockroach. A Leech cockroach. Jamil’s worst nightmare good god. After the sixth-or-so heart attack, Floyd’s not allowed anywhere near Ramshackle if it’s not through the front door. The ghosts have strict instructions to punt him…to which he took as a challenge (because of course he did). Until a window was smashed, and you sent hellfire down upon him.

“I said it was an’ accident! What more do you want from me, huh? It’s your fault anyway for sicking those ghost fish on me - Urk…fiiine. I’m sorry or whatever” <- Always will back down the moment you come across as genuinely pissed. Usually with a grunt and hiss under his breath, kicking his foot before stalking off to cool down for a bit. Always fixes whatever he broke or tries to make amends once his mood is less sour.

Symbiosis II (Developed): Paired with the above 'match his freak' and second rendition of Jade's. Except Floyd is 100% serious. Floyd's going to do right by you, but you've got to do right by him. People are going to wonder why the small-pint prefect is sitting here covering one of bro's shifts (they feared for your life when you basically told him to 'fuck off', knowing he was angry after getting scolded by Azul) but that's how it is. Floyd's symbiosis is different than Jade's. He's more impulsive, yet also more predictable with what he needs. The definition of "no one can tell me to do shit except my spouse" 'cause symbiosis is a mutual respect and trade. No one can pick on you except for him. No one can help you the way he does. He is not going anywhere. Ever. Bonded for life - that kind of ‘sappy shit’.

"I already said I don't wanna... ughhh, babysitting those frosh fishies is so booooring. Can't we just ask Azul to lock 'em in a tank or somethin'?.... ALRIGHT, Little Shrimpy. I get it already so stop yammering in my ear...." <- Floyd's the softer brother, if you can believe that. Acts of service are what get him and he thrives on being needed. So you'll be doing it a lot to earn that compliance from him. Be the iron fist that gets him to back down, and simultaneously the one slipping him a few party poppers to set off at one of Heartslabyul's tea-parties as a reward.

The ✨Fashion✨ (Developed) : Surface-world fashion is one of Floyd’s special interests. Oddly enough? You’re a perfectly-sized dress up doll. It’s cute how large his shoes are in comparison to your feet. Hah! You look like a clown clobbering around in those things. He 100% gives you a pair of light up sneakers that sparkle when you walk - makes it easier to find you in crowds. Not that he needs to. Mostly it’s just for fun. He’ll even get a matching pair so you don’t feel zeroed out.

VIP Menu (Developed) : Floyd has a ‘secret’ menu over at the Mostro Lounge. He’s the head cook, don’t ya know? Makes real tasty dishes. C’mon, praise him. He’ll add a few dishes just for you since you’re so picky - that’s a bad trait to have for a broke Shrimp by the way. Good thing he’s around to make sure you’re eating.

“Oi! I told ya that was for you. If the lil’ seal’s hungry he can get somethin’ off the menu on his own…unless he’s lookin’ for a squeeze?” <- One major gripe Floyd has with Grim is how he’s always mooching off your plate. It’s fine if Azul’s picky with his food, cause that’s Azul. You’re different ‘cause in Floyd’s mind responsible for you. Again. He takes the symbiosis thing more seriously than Jade, and will poke your cheek relentlessly and comment if it’s lost it’s squish. He always serves you something to eat, even if you don’t order. Doesn’t let anyone else prepare it either.

Protective (Developed) : At the risk of sounding like a broken record, Floyd is very attentive. He’s clingy as hell and always looking for an excuse to have a good tussle - you’re his favorite person to screw with. Yet only himself, Azul, and Jade get the green card to look at you with anything other than respect. Cause he knows they don’t mean it - and even your little freshman buddies don’t get a pass. Maybe the seal since Floyd could squish Grim like a grape and he knows it. Leona’s almost gotten many challenges for the whole ‘herbivore’ thing.

—

“ ‘s nice, right? What’s better than one of me? Two, hah! Jade might have my face but now Shrimpy’s got my personality” == Finds the situation funny for like, an hour? Maybe two? Doesn’t matter because ‘Shrimpy is Shrimpy’ - plain as that, really. He gets more joy out of teasing people when they find out you’re with him. As if Floyd gives two sh*ts what other people think? Nah.

[wileys-russo]

filling the void (9) II a.putellas

part of the filling the void universe ft solstråle from @girlgenius1111 family line series filling the void (9) II a.putellas

you twirled a pen between your fingers as your gaze flickered downward, tapping your phone and rolling your eyes seeing another five minutes had passed without a text, solstråle now nearly fifteen minutes late and not any sort of explanation offered.

at first you’d wondered if maybe she got lost, but alexia had already told you that mapi had shown solstråle exactly where the library was. 

your sister herself had locked you in her car and refused to let you out today until you promised to be nice, after insisting on picking you up from work and dropping you off to your little study session to ‘save you a walk, which really you knew was just her way of ensuring you didn’t bail.

not that you had plans to, but you were starting to wonder if solstråle was.

alexia had at least followed through on her part of the study deal, and with some sly timing on your shopping trip inside her closet and olga keeping the blonde distracted during, you’d wound up with more than you were promised, much to alexia’s disdain once she noticed a couple of days later exactly what was missing.

having been raised right you were more than ready to be nice and attempt again to break through solstråle’s awkward interior as you arrived and made your way to the breakout room you’d booked. 

after filling mapi in on what happened at the game and how you were sure solstråle already disliked you, mapi was quick to assure it wasn’t you, ingrids sister was just…quiet. 

so trying to prepare best you could for what was in its entirety a new experience for you, you’d spent the morning sourcing some worksheets online and scouring your room for your old textbooks.

having given most of them away you at least still had a couple of basic ones from your final year of school, but you also just had no idea where the norwegian you’d be tutoring was even up to or what bar her spanish she specifically would want and need help with.

however now, still in your work scrubs with a hoodie tossed over the top and the beginning dull throb of an impending headache settling behind your eyes, your willingness and readiness to be so nice to the clearly time poor norwegian was wagering on paper thin.

tapping your nails against the desk you briefly considered leaving, a quick check showing the next bus you could take home was in five minutes and the stop was right outside, but just as you were preparing to pack up your things there was a knock on the door.

the taller brunette didn’t wait for you to say anything, the knock seeming more to let you know she’d arrived as she closed the door behind her and slumped down in the seat across from you, backpack dumped on the table and not a single word of conversation offered.

“llegas tarde.” you raised an eyebrow and stared her down as she looked right back at you blankly and your eyes rolled. “you are late.” you repeated in english, the norwegian shrugging and mumbling a quiet seemingly unbothered apology.

knowing that holding onto the anger simmering inside you would only make this even less productive you paused to calm yourself, twisting alba’s bracelet on your wrist and counting to five in your head before deciding to just start this all over fresh.

“um i do not really know where to start. do you have homework?” you guessed might be a decent starting point, the girl nodding wordlessly and moving to unzip her bag, pulling out a few loose worksheets as you cringed at the obvious disorganisation hidden within her backpack.

she slid the worksheets across the table as you flipped them around and scanned them, noting some were history and rest spanish language and literature. “do you have one you want to do more?” you questioned, solstråle only shrugging. “vale. or we could work on your spanish?” another silent shrug.

you could feel your patience being tested with each passing moment she remained quiet, trying to remind yourself over and over what mapi said about this taking some time, but this was rapidly seeming much more impossible than you were lead to originally believe.

“is there things you ah, struggle with? with spanish?” you questioned further, another shrug as you inhaled sharply and again counted to five in your head.

“bien. let us work through this then, I think I remember this case study.” you mumbled, scooting your chair around the table so the two of you could both read the worksheet right side up, not missing the way the older girl was fast to tense up and lean right away from you.

you tried not to be offended, subtly sniffing yourself and frowning when all you could smell was the perfume you’d spritzed yourself with, maybe it was too strong or she just had a sensitive sense of smell.

none the less taking your time you read through the first question, trying to speak slowly and clearly, well aware english was not either of your native languages. “did you bring the article?” you asked, checking the papers she’d put down and not able to find it in the small stack. 

“a yes or no would work.” you remanded when once more all you got was a shrug, followed by an eye roll and a hand shoved into the backpack.

“how do you even find the right paper in there?” you asked with a disturbed look, solstråle pausing to glare at you, mumbling something you didn’t understand and assumed was norwegian.

“here.” finally, a word, but you jumped with the force she slammed the paper down onto the desk with. 

“no, this is not it.” you scanned the first few sentences and shook your head. “well you have read it? why do you need it then?” the girl questioned bluntly and you were most taken aback by what was easily the longest sentence you’d heard leave her mouth.

“so we can answer these, because you will need quotes for these first three.” you managed to get out with a hardened jaw, flaring your nostrils as the brunette snatched the paper back and shoved it into her bag.

“solstråle. do you have the paper?” you asked firmly when a minute went by and she made no other move. once more, a muted shrug, and then you realised something you might have been overlooking.

“can you not read this? the spanish?” you asked a little more bluntly than intended, tired from a long day and what felt like a pointless exercise in patience, but it would seem you’d struck a nerve you hadn’t meant to with the taller girl none the less. 

“i can read spanish. i do not know what mapi told you but are you supposed to be helping me? because all you are doing is asking stupid questions. it has been thirty minutes and we have done nothing, this is a waste of time!” the norwegian scoffed as you stopped, sizing her up with narrowed eyes. 

“well you were late so i was already here for fifteen minutes doing nothing anyway, and i have been asking questions so i know what to help you with! but all i get is-” you pulled a face and aggressively shrugged your shoulders a few times clearly mocking the taller girl who gave you a glare. 

“alexia’s super little sister, everyone says you are so smart. can you not see i do not want your help? you want to be a doctor no? so go find someone who does!” solstråle grunted and now you were the one to scoff, pushing your chair back and shooting to your feet, rounding the table and collecting your things.

“eres un maldito idiota!” you spat, your temper well and truly unleashed now as all of your work to minimise the frustrations with the sullen girl across from you melted to nothing as your head was boiling.

“snobbete kjerring.” came the reply she knew you wouldn’t understand, your things all shoved into your bag now as you muttered angry rapid spanish under your breath, having reached the end of your rope you didn’t care if she understood you or not.

“you know i did this as a favour tonta. i have worked all day, i came right here after my shift on time. i have my own studies to do too because yes i want to be a nurse. i am smart and i know what i want to do with my life. maybe if you get your head out of your own ass engen, you might too! and you are right this is a waste of time, my time!” and with that you stormed out of the room, beelining for the bus stop and cursing every foul word you knew under the sun toward the girl you’d left behind.

~

if nobody knew you were in a mood from the way you ignored the family group chat trying to make weekend plans about alexia’s game and a barbeque and left everyone on read, it became glaringly obvious with the way the front door slammed after you as you stomped inside, alba glancing up from her phone as you dropped your bag on the table.

you threw open the refrigerator still muttering angrily under your breath and ignoring her greeting toward you, grabbing out a punnet of strawberries and swinging it harshly closed again. 

then without a word you snatched the unopened can of lemonade your sister had in her hand, flopping yourself down on the couch with a huff and another quiet angry grumble, angrily shoving a strawberry in your mouth with a scowl.

alba whistling under her breath spun around on the stool she was sat on, knowing you’d come from your study session and your current tense mood coupled with the fact you were home an hour earlier than expected was all she needed to know it clearly hadn’t gone well.

“lo que pasó?” she appeared in front of you, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as you took an aggressive sip of lemonade and shook your head.

“no quiero hablar de ello.” you grumbled, not looking at her and instead flicking through the recordings trying to find the latest episode of your favourite reality tv dating show.

“bien.” alba shrugged, taking a seat beside you and counting down in her head as you continued to button mash the poor remote in your hand. three, two, one…

“dios mío solstråle is such an asshole! first she was late without a reason or an apology, then she ignored me and refused to speak, then she would not tell me what the problem she wanted to study was? then all she did was-” once again you aggressively shrugged your shoulders up and down as your sister hid a smile behind her hand, the older girl for once not wanting to wind you up any further and knowing you needed to let this out as you rambled on and on.

“-she belongs in your class, your niños are smarter than she is at least they know how to speak and listen at the same time! imbécil estúpida. i am not doing that again! alexia can…well she can take a hike!” you decided with a snarl, alba now unable to hide the belt of laughter which left her mouth as you shot her a mean glare.

“where did you learn that saying? take a hike? qué significa eso?” your sister laughed as you rolled your eyes.

“one of your american rom coms?” alba mocked making quotations with her finger as you scowled and shoved her, admittedly having quite the fascination for seemingly silly english speaking love movies which was how you’d gotten much better at speaking and understanding it in the first place.

“do you want some advice hermanita?” alba asked after a few moments of tense silence as you shrugged, a slight snicker leaving your sisters mouth as you clocked the gesture would seem slightly hypocritical given your previous rant.

“no? vale! good luck saying no to ale after you stole half her closet diablillo.” alba held her hands up and walked away leaving you to stew in your anger a little while longer. 

though as you sat and thought and stewed, you realised some advice would not go to waste and of all people alba would probably be the most qualified to provide it.

so with a huff you stood to your feet, alba already hearing your footsteps head toward where she was sat out on the back deck soaking up the last few hours of sun before the door slid open and she glanced up.

“advise me por favor.” you sat down beside her and gestured for her to speak as your sister snatched the lemonade from your hand and took a mouthful, placing the can down out of reach and turning to face you properly.

“have you thought about how this feels for solstråle?” alba questioned at first though you could tell from her tone it was rhetorical and didn’t beg an answer.

“she is in a new country, learning a new language, at a new school, where everyone else is years and years and years ahead. then you come along when you are born here, you speak the language, you have finished school. you find things easy, but solstråle will not and maybe she also does not know what she actually needs help with fresa, only that she is struggling.” alba continued as you slowly nodded to show you were listening.

“now imagine if you had to move to norway, you had to learn norwegian but learn it mostly it in english, when spanish is your native language, and all from a girl who you don’t know with a weird accent who thinks she knows everything. then the entire plan is not even your idea but something you feel you need to do because your hermana suggested you need it, so you already go into it thinking your hermana thinks you cannot do it yourself.” alba spoke slowly as again you nodded, feeling your anger slowly melt away as the cogs of your brain ticked over.

“i do not think i know everything.” you grumbled with a huff, fixed with a look of disbelief as you rolled your eyes, maybe you could come across as a know it all sometimes. “you have a god complex fresita and it is alexia’s fault for always telling you that you are perfect.” alba quipped with a snort, silencing you with a raised eyebrow before she continued

“then this girl with a weird accent asks you lots of questions about norwegian but she asks you in english, that you probably do not know the answer to, and she has a short temper, a hot head, not much patience, and gives up after one time when she is not even trying her best. would you not be maybe a little bit frustrated? confused? embarrassed?” alba questioned again and now you knew she expected an answer as your body seemed to sag.

“sí, sería difícil, then i called her an idiota and just stormed off!” you exhaled heavily, things suddenly now a little more in perspective as you dragged your hands down your face. “está bien tonta, not everyone is built for teaching, especially not hot heads.” alba chuckled patting your knee as you peeked out from behind your hands giving her a look of annoyance.

“is there some advice coming soon puta?” “did you not hear what i just said about patience?”

“espere, mapi is calling me.” you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, still on silent after the work day as you fished it out and clicked accept.

“hola mapi, i do not know what-” you started completely ready for the spaniard to start yelling at you but you were surprised at what followed next.

“fresa have you seen solstråle? her location cut off, she was supposed to already be home and she is not answering her phone. did you see her leave? did she drive?” mapi asked in a tone more serious than you think you’d ever heard, the edge of worry to her voice obvious as you frowned.

“no we finished up early, i did not see her leave i took the bus home about…two hours ago?” you tried to guess, mapi thanking you bluntly and hanging up before you could even say another word.

you tried to brush it off, as a teenager yourself you often made excuses not to have to come home on time, and if you weren’t so scared about driving and had your license you were certain the freedom of a car would be tempting.

but as alba began to try and lay out how you would be better to tackle your next session, you couldn’t shake the weird pin prick of something sitting at the back of your head about the stony norwegian, and just maybe you were a little concerned about if she was okay, and that if god forbid something had happened, was it partially your fault?

~

"fresa valentina putellas segura!" you looked up from your phone and exhaled heavily, wincing at the use of your full name and glaring over your shoulder toward elena who shrugged and sent you a knowing smile, busy on a phone call as you heard the car door close.

"i could have gotten a lift home with elena mami." you mumbled, groaning as another car door shut and both your sisters scrambled out of the car, clearly bickering over something as they pushed and shoved one another in their haste to get over to where you were sat.

"elena is who called me! i had to find out from her that you were at the hospital? hablas en serio?" your mami huffed, smacking the back of your head as you pulled a face and rubbed it with a scowl.

"we should go and yell at the nurses for not calling you sooner mami, she is a baby!" alexia chimed in as she and alba arrived and you closed your eyes and sighed again, looking up to the sky as your face was warmed with sunshine, trying to drown out the three lectures which washed over you from the women stood fussing around you.

"we are not at the hospital, it is a medical centre and i am almost eighteen. once you are over sixteen you can make your own medical decisions, and i am fine." you reminded with another sigh, hearing footsteps and cracking an eye open to watch your mami march away from the bench you were sat on to go and talk to elena who was now off the phone.

"you are still a baby. venga alba, get her crutches." your eldest sister ordered as you sat up properly, sharply smacking the girls hands away as she hissed and narrowed her eyes at you in a glare.

"i can get them myself! i can walk without them but they would not let me leave unless i took them, la doctora era tan dramática." you grumbled in annoyance, only having mildly sprained your ankle and insistent that everyone was over reacting from the moment you fell.

it had been a harmless accident, however it had looked a lot worse than it was.

you'd just finished taking an elderly gentlemens vitals after you'd already collected his blood, the vials labelled and stored properly out back you'd been on your way back to the room to advise the gentlemen could leave, but you'd not been paying attention to the floor.

the clinic currently had a student on for work placement week, a meek and quiet fifteen year old boy who looked terrified anytime someone spoke to him, and with the way he went pale at the sight of blood it had you all wondering just who at his school he'd wronged to end up on placement here of all places.

it would seem he'd somehow dropped and smashed a few vials of someones blood after being asked to carry them back to the storeroom, and while he was busy stumbling through apologies to the nurse he was assigned to shadow for the day, elena, he'd not made any sort of effort to clean up.

so without a warning sign of any kind at least you hadn't looked down to see what you were hurrying toward and before you could blink you'd slipped over with a loud thump and you were covered in someone else’s blood.

of course without knowing the context of what happened the moment your coworkers appeared there had been all sorts of chaos that followed, everyone checking you for wounds and cuts as patients were hurried back into the collection rooms and nobody listened to the student trying to stammer out what had actually happened.

none the less you'd managed to land awkwardly on your ankle and not able to put much pressure on it your boss mateo had insisted you go get it x-rayed to rule it out of being anything serious, shutting down your protests with a firm look and ordering elena to drive you.

so thankfully with spare scrubs always handy you'd been able to change, not able to think of much worse than sitting at the medical centre covered in blood and the looks that would attract when you explained the issue was only your ankle.

you'd managed to charm your way out of anyone at work calling your mami, assuring she would be busy at her own job with her phone in her locker, and you'd just call one of your sisters once you knew what was wrong not wanting to panic anyone without a need.

however elena knowing you all too well knew you'd try to keep this to yourself and as you were being x-rayed it seemed she had slyly called eli to inform her of what had happened. which of course in your family may as well have been a bat signal for everyone to panic and over-react, exactly what you'd wanted to avoid in the first place.

"put your arms around my neck pequeña." alexia instructed as you gave her a look of disbelief. "alexia. eres sordo? i said i can walk myself!" you huffed, trying to stand up as alba pushed you back down onto the bench, snatching your crutches and she was off toward the car.

"cuídate chica, i will let mateo know what happened and i am sure he will give you the rest of the week off to recover. after all we have the student to help out!" elena appeared and squeezed your shoulder, grinning at the glare you gave her as she winked and hurried away to her own car before you could say a word, eli calling out another thank you as she did.

"and you will be taking the time off fresa." your mami’s gaze shifted to you and warned sharply as you groaned, already over all of the fussing yet you knew it had barely begun.

"estoy bien! i can work in reception and sit at the front desk, do admin and stay off my ankle and-" you tried to argue, falling silent at the fierce looks sent your way both by eli and alexia, crossing your arms and scowling.

"sí, me tomaré tiempo libre." you begrudgingly agreed with a sigh, eli nodding happily before she hurried off into the medical centre ignoring your yells after her that you already had everything you needed.

"derecha hermanita, arms around my neck." alexia repeated herself expectantly as she leaned down a little closer and once more you scoffed. "i can walk! aléjate de mí." you growled, trying to stand and grunting as again you were pushed back down.

"alexia!" "you are not walking to the car." "vale, i will sleep on this bench then." you puffed out stubbornly with a shake of your head.

"deja de ser idiota! you can put your arms around my neck and i will carry you, or i will pick you up over my shoulder como un bebé pequeño." your sister threatened seriously and judging by the look on her face you knew she was far from joking.

so mumbling about how embarrassing this was you did as she requested, knowing the alternative was worse, alexias arms wrapping around you as you were picked up and off the bench, were grateful there weren't many people around to see this as your sister carried you fireman style to the car.

"esto es ridículo." you muttered bitterly, alexia going as far as to do your seat belt up for you as alba sat in the front and your mami reappeared, a copy of your x-ray and some other papers in hand as alexia sat in the passenger seat fussing over you and you squeezed your eyes closed.

this was going to be far more painful than your ankle was.

~

"por el amor de dios it is a sprain! a mild sprain! not a break, or a fracture, or a-" but your protests fell on deaf ears as alexia lowered you down onto the sofa and ignored you, chattering away to alba about everything they assumed you needed.

you’d already had to fight them off not to shower and dress you like a child when you’d returned home, both girls settling for hovering right outside the bathroom door like guard dogs.

with eli’s help you utilised the shower chair she’d refused to touch throughout her own recovery to take the pressure off your ankle, sighing in relief as you’d washed the days events off of you.

"elevate and ice!" your mami called out from the kitchen where she was already prepping things for lunch, alba tossing alexia an ice pack, a tea towel already slung over your eldest sisters shoulder as your jaw clenched.

you hissed as alexia grabbed your ankle, lifting your leg to slide a pillow beneath and giving you a look. "mild?" she scoffed as you glared and grumbled something under your breath about how even mild sprains hurt when someones nails dig into them.

"mild, read the papers tonta! mami has about four copies." you muttered with a roll of your eyes, wincing as alexia wrapped a tea towel around your ankle to secure the ice pack to it, apologising quietly as she adjusted your ankle to sit comfortably on the pillow it was propped on.

“this is like when diablillo broke her toe.” alba chuckled at the memory, alexia trying to hide a wince as your eyes locked in on her and narrowed into a glare. “and whose fault was that?”

eli had been enjoying a couple of hours of peace, alba not yet home from school, alexia at training and a much younger you dead asleep in bed after a psychology appointment, pulled out of school at lunch time to attend.

to try and take your mind off of the contents of the appointment, which given you were five years old and learning what grief was in the wake of your papi’s passing were always emotionally taxing, eli had taken you grocery shopping.

big mistake.

you’d always been a very confident, outgoing and sure of yourself child, having to be in order to keep up with your big loud family and especially your strong willed sisters. so it was no surprise that the moment eli pulled out her list you were taking it off of her and charging away.

but you weren’t good at following the list so nearly every second thing you tossed into the cart, your mami took out and put back, sighing at your protests and attempts to rationalise the purchase, list taken out of your possession and an agreement made if you wouldn’t sit in the cart you had to have a hand on it at all times.

but the other part of that agreement, granted you stuck to it which was becoming increasingly hard given everything you wanted was just out of reach with how eli strategically parked the cart in each aisle, was that at the end of it you could choose something as a reward.

your mami already knew what your choice would be so it was no surprise when finally as everything was ticked off the list and you were given the green light you raced right to the produce section, eli lifting you up onto her hip so you could properly survey the punnets and punnets of strawberries in front of you.

however when almost twenty minutes later when you still hadn’t made a choice your mami was starting to lose patience, gently trying to hurry you along as she watched you carefully survey each and every strawberry with narrowed eyes.

finally, one was chosen, and it had seemed the grocery trip coupled with your appointment earlier in the afternoon had wiped you out, falling asleep in the car on the way home as your mami slowly woke you, hand in hers and leading you to your bedroom where you crashed out right on top of the covers, red tightly in hand.

but now a couple of hours later it seemed eli’s peace was about to end as alba came tearing in the door, chattering away on her phone and your mami’s eyes rolled watching her once neatly organised kitchen become anything but as your hormone filled teenage sister piled a plate high with some post school fuel.

alexia was next, flying through the door and bringing jenni with her of course, their chattering filling the house as alba spoke louder in return on the phone, retreating to her room with a slam of her door as the noise jolted you awake.

your mami shook her head, watching your sister and her girlfriend rummage through the refrigerator just as alba had done moments ago, the once fully stocked shelves already beginning to clear out in just a matter of a few minutes.

everyone greeting eli the woman was grateful she was still able to sit and read her book, both your sisters old enough not to need her attention the way you did, but moving to the living room and with her head buried in literature she missed alexia grab out your specially selected strawberries.

however it was the very first thing you noticed as you tiredly padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes and blinking to try and clear them of sleep, jenni noticing you first with a grin and bending down to open her arms for a hug. you were more than ready to wander into them however before you could take another step alexia bit into a strawberry and you gasped, suddenly wide awake.

“ale those are mine! volver a ponerlos!” you demanded angrily, stomping on over as your sister chuckled and shook her head, jenni standing again with a defeated sigh that you’d rejected her hug.

“you do not own all the fresones in this house monstruito.” alexia grinned, biting into another one just to wind you up as you huffed and glared up at her, she was always at her most annoying after she’d trained and was full of endorphins as your mami tried to explain to you.

“i own those! they are mine i bought them today at the market with mami!” you tried to explain, attempting to climb up onto the counter to grab them but your little feet wouldn’t grip onto the stone walls of the counter as you watched on uselessly as now jenni took a bite.

“oh do you want one?” alexia smirked, one hand pressed to your forehead holding you off as she held a strawberry down to you but just out of reach, grinning as you reached for it with frustrated little grunts.

alexia nodded for jenni to tip out the rest of the punnet into a small bowl on the counter, grabbing the seemingly empty container they’d once been in and letting you go, putting what appeared to be the last strawberry into her mouth with a content sigh.

“aquí monstruito.” your sister handed you the empty container as your jaw dropped and you looked up at her in disbelief, a smug smile on the older girls face as jenni nudged her in the back that maybe this was taking the teasing a little too far.

letting out a war cry you charged at her but alexia already anticipated the attack, easily holding you off again with a hand covering your face, words muffled against her palm as your arms swung trying to connect with any part of her body.

but when that didn’t work you resorted to plan b, winding your leg up and kicking at her as hard as you could, your foot bouncing off of her bare shin and you felt something crack, stopping your movement all together as alexia’s grin was wiped away watching your face pale.

“hey hey hey hermanita-” but right as she squatted down to try and check in you let out a blood curdling scream, falling to the ground and holding your foot as suddenly the kitchen was full of people, everyone fussing over you as you pushed both of your sisters away, only accepting eli’s arms which scooped you up and sat you on the counter.

“no! te odio!” you screamed at alexia who tried to move in to hug you, the eighteen year old flinching away as if she’d been burned, alba moving in instead as you pushed your face into her stomach and gripped her school shirt in your hands as eli ever so gently moved your leg, dodging the way it kicked out in reflex.

“oh mi nena, i think you might have broken your big toe.”

safe to say your sisters both learned a very valuable lesson about how far to take things when pushing you around and teasing you that day, alexia especially.

"do you not have anything else better to do than fuss and annoy me capitana?" you grumbled sarcastically, eyes rolling yet again as your sister fluffed and prepped the cushions behind your back now, karate chopping them making you snicker with slight amusement at the concentration on her face as she did so.

"tiene razón mija, look at the time you should go, you have that meeting!" eli called out in agreement as alexia hummed. "and don't you have niños to dumb down?" you leaned back and looked up at your middle sister who was stood behind the couches, a brush and tie in hand as she grabbed your hair and started to scrape it up into a bun despite the fact your arms were fine and you could easily do it yourself.

"alba!" you yelped as the flat side of the brush smacked against your forehead. "don't hit her puta she's hurt!" alexia reached over and shoved the younger girl who rolled her eyes and tilted your head back to kiss your forehead in a silent apology as you made an indignant huff and jerked away from her.

"student free day." alexia explained on alba's behalf, seemingly satisfied with how she'd smacked and poked the cushions into order behind you, and you had to admit you were quite comfortable.

"if you need anything you tell mami or alba, do not get up!" your sister warned sternly, giving you the firm captains look you knew struck fear into her teammates but did nothing much for you as you raised your eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"fresa valentina-" "bien i will not move! váyase and stop with the middle name." you groaned shooing your hands for her to leave. "te quiero, do not do anything stupid!" she warned shoving your head to the side as you mocked her under your breath.

"more like anything else stupid." alba chimed in from the kitchen, your middle finger popping up at her as your mami clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"what?" you sighed as still alexia stayed standing in front of you expectantly. "i am not saying it back." you turned on the tv with a shrug, browsing for what to watch as your sister huffed and finally moved out of the way.

overhearing alexia tell eli that she and olga would be back for dinner you groaned, knowing everyone would be fussing over you despite the fact you were fine.

“can olga come and you stay home? your home.” you suggested, your mami clicking her tongue again with a huff as now alexia flipped you off making you grin and return the gesture. 

“dibujar!” alba cried out as she joined in, now all three of you using both your hands to flip one another off with matching grins as eli sighed, having flashbacks to when you were all much younger.

“basta de esto! I raised you three better than this.” your mami smacked a wooden spoon against the counter as all three of you flinched at the memories which came with the sound and immediately dropped your hands as the shorter women nodded, quite pleased that still worked as alexia yelled another goodbye and finally made her way out.

~

“elena you are not taking me to my bedroom, i’m fine.” you huffed a couple days later, your sisters and mami both having been hovering relentlessly all week which was more than starting to grate on you, not even allowed to go and have some peace and quiet in your own room, banished to the sofa like a prisoner all day everyday where someone could have eyes on you at all times.

you knew your mami was perhaps getting the most from this, and though she would never admit it you could tell that after so long of her being the one who was being fussed over and watched like a hawk it was both a relief and a joy for that attention to be diverted elsewhere. 

a bonus that it so happened to be you, the one who was perhaps most guilty of fussing over her since she left hospital given you were the last of your sisters still living at home.

“let me just help you walk there, since you refuse to use the crutches.” elena rolled her eyes, nodding at the crutches in her hand which indeed you’d not touched, insistent that you could walk albeit with a small limp.

it had taken a lot of begging and pleading but with it being one of your friends birthdays you’d been invited out to dinner with them, eli eventually agreeing you could go so long as you promised to let her know when you were on your way back.

you’d done that, sending her a text message as you left the restaurant with elena, but when you hadn’t heard back and given it was nearly eleven thirty at night, you assumed she’d likely fallen asleep.

“because I do not need them, and I do not need help!” you huffed, elena giving up with a sigh and carefully placing your crutches just inside by the front door, hugging you goodbye with a teasing donkey noise, everyone having teased you were ‘stubborn as an ass’ all night as you bit back a smile and gave her a sarcastic wave goodbye.

closing the door after her you exhaled in relief as with your mami seemingly asleep and your sisters at their own homes you finally had a moment of peace to yourself without someone asking if you needed anything, fixing a cushion, getting more ice, checking the swelling.

but still, despite the peace nature called and with a sigh you started to hobble your way to the bathroom, the swelling having gone down but the ankle itself still quite tender despite the fact it could bare a lot more weight now. 

your eyes flickered momentarily toward the crutches sitting abandoned just an arms length away, knowing really you should use them as it would make this whole process a lot faster. however your friends weren’t wrong you were stubborn, and determined to prove even just to yourself that this was only a mild sprain and you were getting better you began an arduous journey toward the bathroom.

you were doing okay at first, grabbing onto things and allowing your body to lean on your dominant foot, able to get all the way to the bathroom all on your own, sitting down on the toilet with a relieved exhale.

but it was getting up that suddenly the situation drastically changed.

when you’d showered earlier you’d left your wet towel on the ground, nothing unusual as given it was only you and eli living here now and she had her own bathroom there was no one to complain about it.

however too focused on hobbling over to the sink you’d failed to notice, and if anything this whole week had just been one huge life lesson to learn to look down a little more often, and with a blink you felt yourself slip, head hitting the ground and back thumping against the tile floor.

but all you were focused on was the way you felt your ankle go snap, pain shooting up your leg as if it was on fire as you groaned loudly, trying to sit up but grunting and collapsing back to the ground.

“mami? mami? mami!” you tried to yell out through gritted teeth, calling out a few more times and groaning as the pain worsened and the room began to spin a little. feeling something digging into your hip you managed to pull your phone out with a hiss, yelling out again for eli but not hearing anything.

so knowing really there wasn’t anything else you could do you clicked on the contact for the one person you thought might answer if you called. 

your heartbeat sounding in your ears and vision a little blurred you hesitated, flashbacks of all the calls you’d made to her where she hadn’t answered, stomach churning with a mix of nausea, worry and rejection, questioning if maybe you were wrong and she wouldn’t answer, leaving you alone again.

but eventually the pain won out and you clicked call, sighing with a grimace as the dial tone sounded once, twice, three times, four times and- 

“hola? pequeña? estás bien?” “ale? por favour por favor i need help, hermana i need you!”