#sorry it took so long for me to write I'm not that used to writing re and jan and also my schedule was wack

[submattsmxmmy]

roughdom!stepbro!chris x bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 content warning: smut, stepsibling kink, daddy kink, mentions of porn, posessiveness, praise/degradation, biting, kinda risky, unprotected rough sex

🖤 summary: your stepbrother, chris, gets jealous when he sees you flirting with another man - and not just any man, but one who's nothing like him.

hiiii it's me, @ariestrxsh. if you don't fw the stepcest shit, then idk what to tell you. lmao. don't read this shit. sorry mom, sorry god, and sorry chris sturniolo, if you ever see this deranged, god-forsaken piece of writing.

holdyourbreath

chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

The sun was beginning to descend below the horizon line as Chris turned down his street, indie music playing softly through his speakers.

He didn't think much of the old, beige sedan sitting in the driveway when he got home, except for being slightly annoyed that it was in his spot. He figured you had a girlfriend staying the night who didn't know he always parked there or something.

He let out an agitated sigh as he pulled up beside the curb and cut the engine. He made his way up the driveway with a basketball under his arm and his t-shirt clinging to his sweat-covered chest.

He turned the knob and stepped inside. He cracked a subtle smirk at the sound of your laugh, a noise that once would have made him roll his eyes. He hated that you were secretly growing on him - or maybe he liked it. He wasn't completely sure yet.

The smile on his face faded quickly when he heard a second voice - a man's voice. He quickly made his way into the kitchen, envy already brewing inside of him.

He burst through the door to find you sitting across from a dark-haired boy, batting your lashes and twirling your hair around your finger as you thoughtlessly giggled at every word he said. You jumped as if you were doing something wrong when your eyes flew up and noticed Chris.

You took note of his flushed, pink cheeks, his tired, blue eyes, and his sweaty brown hair sticking to his forehead. You adored the way he looked when he'd just finished up playing basketball or working out, but you didn't let your glance linger for long.

"Hi, Chris," you casually mumbled before turning your attention back to the boy sitting across from you. "Hey. What's up? I'm Josh," the man said, getting up from his chair and extending a hand for Chris to shake.

"You parked in my spot," Chris shot back, peering down at Josh's hand with a look of contempt and silently rejecting his polite gesture.

"Sorry. You'll have to excuse my stepbrother. No one ever taught him manners or how to use the bathroom without getting piss on the toilet seat," you remarked in a snide tone as Chris pushed past him.

"So, uh, what do you think?" Josh asked, redirecting you back to what you two were talking about before Chris interrupted. "I love all your ideas," you giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and licking your lips as you looked at Josh.

The boy across from you may have been oblivious to your flirtatious demeanor, but Chris clocked it right away. "God, could ya be any more fuckin' desperate?" Chris mumbled under his breath as he swung open the door of the fridge.

"What was that?" You wondered, stopping your conversation and turning your attention to your stepbrother who wasn't taking the hint that you wanted to be left alone with Josh, or so you thought.

He actually was getting the hint. He was just blatantly ignoring it.

"I said, what're ya guys workin' on?" Chris asked, but it wasn't so much that he was genuinely curious as much as he was trying to figure out how much longer he was going to have to endure the jealousy of watching you pathetically throw yourself at another man.

"We're working on building our argument for our debate class. We were all paired off, given a controversial topic, and we have to present our arguments next week to the opposing side," you responded, fidgeting with your pencil.

"What's the controversial topic?" Chris asked, a smirk playing in the corner of his mouth. He loved contentious subjects and arguing. "The subject is pornography and whether it's pro or anti-feminist," you replied.

"Oh, yeah?" Chris asked, the topic piquing his interest. "What's your argument, kid?" Chris asked, cracking open a can of Pepsi and leaning against the counter. He was eager to hear your take on the subject.

"Our argument is that it's anti-feminist. It prioritizes male pleasure, gives unhealthy and unrealistic expectations about sex, and it's just overall degrading and exploitative," you casually stated, shrugging your shoulders. Chris scoffed. "Isn't that kinda sexist of you to say?" He shot back, sipping from his Pepsi can.

"What are you talking about?" You huffed back, crossing your arms and glaring in his direction. "Well, isn't it kind of infantalizing to assume that any woman who is in the porn industry is only doin' it because she's bein' exploited? Why can't a woman just become a porn star because she wants to?" Chris asked, sounding rather genuine.

You were at a loss for words, unsure of how to combat Chris' argument. "And what about the girls who like bein' degraded? What about the girls who like watchin' shit like that?" He added.

"What's your point, Chris?" You scoffed. "It's anti-feminist for you to assume that porn only exists for male pleasure when women probably get off to it just as much," Chris stated a valid point before taking a sip of his soda.

"Whatever, Chris. You wouldn't know feminism if it sat on your face," you rolled your eyes, dismissing his comments. "What? You tellin' me you've never gotten off to that shit? Maybe even the rough stuff?" Chris snarked, deviously grinning at you, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he were calculating the exact categories you were into.

Your stare grew wide, and your cheeks grew hot. You couldn't believe Chris was putting you in this position in front of your classmate you were secretly crushing on.

Josh sat quietly, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he listened to the two of you bicker back and forth, astonished that step siblings felt so comfortable talking to each other about hardcore porn.

"Chris! I-," you started to say, but your breath hitched in your throat. "I'm not saying- Look, Chris. We were given a topic and told which side we had to argue for. That's the key to being good at debate, is being able to argue both sides regardless of how you personally feel about the subject. My thoughts on it are completely irrelevant."

"Right, but don't you have to really believe what you're saying to be good at arguing your side? You know my room's right next to yours, right?" Chris shot back, insinuating he knew something. His lips curled into a sadistic smile, knowing he was humiliating you. You huffed and rolled your eyes.

"Chris, can I talk to you in private?" You narrowed your gaze at him. "Yeah, sure. Whatever," he scoffed and rolled his gorgeous, blue eyes.

You excused yourself, and you and Chris headed upstairs. You led him into your bedroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you before you whipped around and glared at him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You sternly questioned him. "What the fuck do ya think you're doin'? That guy?" Chris blurted out, surprised that you'd be into such a docile man.

"What? He's a nice guy," you defended Josh. "You don't want a nice guy," Chris chuckled, giving you a dark smirk. "You don't know what I want," you replied. "Sure, I do. I think I know whatcha want better than you do," he cooed, reaching up and softly running his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Chris. I really like him. Please don't embarrass me in front of him," you whispered, giving Chris a somber look. "You'd get bored of him. Bet he could never fuck you as good as I do," Chris purred, stepping closer to you and studying your expression.

"Are you.. jealous?" You wondered, a satisfied grin spreading across your lips. "No," Chris sneered. "Of course I'm not jealous. I just know what ya need better than anyone else." Chris firmly grabbed your jaw and pinned you between the door and his body.

"Chris -" you started to retort, but he cut you off by pressing his lips into yours. You softly moaned into his mouth as his free hand flew to his waistband, pulling his cock free from his shorts.

You immediately felt all your willpower to stop him leave your body, and you relaxed into his kiss. You felt his drooling tip brush against the inside of your thigh as he hiked up your skirt and roughly pulled your panties to the side.

You felt the cool air rush over your exposed heat while Chris ran the head of his cock along your sensitive clit. You shuddered at the sensation. As he slipped it into your entrance, he bit down on the soft flesh of your bottom lip, leaving it swollen and bruised as he slowly pulled away.

"Awh, she's so happy to see me," Chris cooed, smirking up at you as he sunk his length all the way in, feeling the way you stretched around him.

"She thought she was gonna have to settle for that loser downstairs, huh? Don't worry, baby. Daddy's home now," Chris grunted, jerking his hips forward and starting to pump in and out of you at a rough pace as you hooked one leg around his waist.

You threw your head back, and a soft thump sounded as you made contact with the door behind you. A loud moan escaped your lips at the way Chris spoke to you coupled with the way he brutally pounded into you.

He thought about covering your mouth, but a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he imagined the boy downstairs, possibly hearing the two of you. "Can't stay quiet, huh? Is my dick really that good or do ya just really want Josh to know how good I'm fuckin' ya?" Chris chuckled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled back, and a subtle smile crept into your expression. You were too fucked out to even answer him.

"Be a good girl and take it," Chris groaned, leaning in and latching onto your neck. The faint, sweet smell of his natural musk filled your senses, heightening every touch. He began suckling on the soft skin above your collar bone, listening to the pretty sounds that fell from your tender lips.

His fingertips dug into your sides, leaving red prints on your flesh through the fabric of your clothing. You couldn't get enough of the way he manhandled you, the way he touched, licked, and bit at you like it was all that you were good for, marking you up with his perfect teeth while he pounded away.

"You're gonna leave a bruise," you weakly told him, but you said it as more of a lustful observation than a warning or a request for him to let up. You secretly liked the idea of him claiming you as with a hickey in such a visible place, knowing you'd have to hide it from Josh when you got back downstairs.

"That's not the only thing I'm gonna leave bruised," Chris teased you, talking into the crook of your neck. You could already feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach, a testament to the effect Chris had on you.

Your hands were draped around the back of his neck, clawing at his t-shirt as your legs grew weak. "Daaaddy," your quiet voice trembled like you were talking while driving over a cattleguard due to how mercilessly Chris was fucking you.

"What was that?" Chris inquired through his breathlessness, slowing down his thrusts. "No, no. Please don't stop," you begged through your panting. "Then tell me what you said," Chris murmured, his intense blue eyes locked on yours.

"Nothing," you whispered, feeling your face grow hot from letting that word slip out. You knew you'd never hear the end of it.

"Mhmm. Sure," Chris smirked and narrowed his gaze at you before he went back to his fast, hard movements, bottoming out with every stroke. It didnt take long before you picked up right where you left off, your stomach doing twists and turns as Chris rearranged your guts with his unrelenting cock.

He was going at it so hard that the door was jiggling against the frame and making a sound as if someone was trying to repeatedly open it. Your body started shaking uncontrollably at the whole situation and how Chris didn't care that you had company sitting at the kitchen table. He was going to take you however and whenever he wanted.

"Be a good girl and cum all over daddy's cock," Chris cooed, feeling you begin to rhythmically clench around him. You were fighting for your life, biting back the sensual sounds that desperately wanted to make themselves known as your orgasm tore through you.

The feeling of you finishing onto him caused a ripple effect. His length twitched inside of you, filling you up with his white, sticky cum as he moaned into your ear. He followed it up with a faint chuckle, his breath tickling your neck as he found amusement in how easily you always gave into him.

He pulled himself out of you, leaving his seed leaking onto the inside of your thigh as he did so. "Such a fuckin' slut," Chris teased.

"Okay, don't keep your prude boyfriend waiting too much longer or else he might start suspecting something," Chris winked at you, keeping his voice low. You took a few deep breaths. You tugged down the hem of your skirt, smoothing out the fabric to conceal the mess Chris had made between your legs.

"Chris. Can you please just give me and Josh some privacy while we work on our project?" You asked, considering that was the whole reason you'd asked to talk to him in the first place.

"I'll keep my mouth shut, but I'm not leaving you alone with some other guy. Not a fuckin' chance," Chris answered, his voice thick with jealousy as he bore into your stare with his own.

You spun around, cleared your throat, and popped open the door. Chris delivered a harsh smack on your ass as you stepped out into the hallway. You let out a small squeal and swatted his hand away with your own, but you otherwise ignored his gesture.

The two of you descended the stairs. Chris made his way back over to the fridge to poke around for something to eat. You draped a thick strand of your hair over the red spot on your neck and sucked in your swollen lip as you sat back down across from your classmate.

"Sorry about that. My stepbrother won't be bothering us anymore," you calmly said. "How'd you get him to do that?" Josh asked, furrowing his brow at how quiet Chris was now compared to how loud-mouthed and obnoxious he was being ten minutes ago.

"I have my ways," you replied through a subtle smirk.

(guys don't worry I'll do a part five 💖)

[tpwk-formula1]

Paddock Bunny 4

AN: Sorry it took so long! I've decided to forget about the schedule I once had and I will be updating this when I feel the motivation to write for it! I love my Bunny and want to keep writing for her. I was originally gonna write George's DSQ but decided to hold off so look out for the next few days to see the next part to Paddock Bunny!!!

TW: ROUGH sex, slapping, spanking, multiple orgasms, protected sex, UNPROTECTED sex, oral, creampie, face fucking, MDNI 18+

WC: 3.1k

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Y/N POV

The Mclaren garage after Oscar's first win is very different from when Lando won his first Grand Prix. Everyone is trying to be excited for the young Australian driver but there's an undertone in the room that is making it more awkward than anything.

I make my way to Oscar's driver room knowing he would be alone since his engineer had just walked back towards my dad to do their debrief.

"Come in," I hear Oscar call out when I knock gently on the door. When he sees that it's me he instantly breaks out into a wide smile.

"I'm so fucking proud of you," I say while making me way to where he is sitting on the couch before climbing into his lap and into my arms.

"I think you are the first person from the team to say that," Oscar mumbles into my chest where he had buried his face.

"Not even Tom?" I say while pulling his face up to look up at me. He just kinds of shrugs the question off.

"Probably but it's been a bit of a blur if I'm being honest," Oscar tells me making me smile. When he sees me smiling he starts to smile too letting his eyes shine in excitement for the first time since I've walked into the room.

"I think that was the most awkward podium I've ever been on," Oscar whispers making me pout. It was awkward just watching it happen so I couldn't imagine being up there.

"You deserved better," I tell him softly while my fingers lightly trace over his cheek bones making him look up with a soft smile.

"If a weird ass podium gets you in my lap at the end of the day, I'll suffer every race," Oscar tells me with a smirk while dropping his hands from my waist down to my ass where he gives it a little squeeze before pulling me in closer and bringing his lips to mine.

"Lily, called and said you looked beautiful in the garage," Oscar tells me softly making me smile.

"Tell her thank you," I whisper before leaning down and pulling him in for another kiss. Feeling Oscar's tongue tangling with mine I can't help the small moan slipping from my lips.

"Will you be spending your night with me?" Oscar asks me softly making me smile and nod my head.

"Only if you'll have me over?" I reply back.

"Of course I want you over. I sure my mom will want me to call her when I get to the hotel so," Oscar kind of trails off not really being able to find the right words to what he's saying.

"I'll hide in the bathroom while she calls," I say with a small smile making a sign of relief excape Oscar's lips.

"I also have parents I don't want knowing about this," I say with a laugh making Oscar realize he's not alone in wanting to keep this all under wraps.

When we finally get back to Oscar's hotel room he makes himself comfortable on the bed and gives his mom a ring while I hide in the bathroom.

I spent my time texting Lando letting him rant about how he felt about the race but as soon as I hear the bathroom door open I put my phone down and look up to find Oscar making his way into the bathroom.

I'm sitting on the bathroom counter which is perfect for Oscar to quickly slots himself between my spread thighs while pulling me closer into him.

"Good chat?" I ask softly making Oscar nod before pulling me even closer to him before pulling me in for a soft kiss. He quickly deepens the kiss pulling me into his arms and walking the both of us towards the bedroom where he quickly plops me down on the bed before pulling off the flimsy dress I was wearing leaving me in my matching bra and panties.

"Look so pretty," Oscar says while pulling at the string of my thong before letting it snap back against my skin making me whimper.

Oscar quickly pulls his phone out and snaps a few pictures making my cheeks heat slightly but trusting him enough that they would be for 'his' eyes only.

Once Oscar gets a few more pictures he tosses his phone somewhere out of sight before he's pulling off his shirt letting me see his toned chest.

I quickly wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull his body down on top of mine letting my nails trail his back while his mouth starts exploring my jaw and neck.

"So pretty," Oscar mumbles into my skin making me giggle at the way his breath tickled my skin. When his mouth finds my sweet spot I let out a small whine when I feel his teeth sink into my skin leaving a small hickey behind.

I can feel Oscar leaving a small trail of hickeys down my neck and towards my bra covered tits where he quickly unclips the back of my bra and discarding it somewhere across the room before he attaches his mouth to my hardened nipple.

"Osc," I moan softly when I feel his tongue start twirling around the sensitive bud. I feel Oscar softly tugging on the barbell through my nipple making me whimper at the stimulation.

"Sound so pretty," Oscar mumbles before trailing his mouth to my other nipple and giving it the same treatment as the previous one. Once both of my nipples are standing at attention from Oscar's mouth he pulls my panties down my legs and tosses them somewhere along with the rest of my discarded clothes.

When I feel Oscar's mouth near my core I can't help but try and pull him closer to where I need him the most which only has him pulling back and sending a harsh slap to my inner thigh.

"Ow! Oscar," I cry out in a loud whine making Oscar look up at me with a smirk before leaning down and kissing my lips softly.

"Patience," Oscar whispers before leaning back down near my core but instead of bringing his mouth to where I need him he starts trailing soft kisses all along my inner thighs and even leaving a few small hickeys behind before I finally feel his tongue softly start exploring my folds making me whimper.

The more Oscar's tongue explores my soaked folds the tighter my grip on his hair gets making me pull his hair trying to bring him closer to where I need him the most.

"Fuck," Oscar groans when I pull his hair hard enough making me whimper at the vibrations his voice sent straight to my core.

"More please," I beg wiggling my hips trying to bring Oscar's mouth to my throbbing clit.

"Ah! Yes," I whine when I finally feel Oscar's tongue lightly graze over my clit before moving his mouth back to my inner thigh making me whimper at the loss of contact.

"Oscar! Stop teasing," I cry out only making him pull back and slap my inner thigh once again.

"Let me enjoy watching you fall apart for me," Oscar whispers with a smirk before leaning down and spitting directly onto my clit and using a few fingers to roughly rub it into my clit giving me the stimulation I had been chasing but being far too rough to give me true pleasure.

"Osc, please," I whine again. This time Oscar leans down slightly placing a soft kiss on my sensitive clit before pulling it into his mouth making me sign in relief from the stimulation which quickly turns into a soft scream when his teeth sink into my clit.

"Oscar!" I cry when I feel him biting down onto my clit and tugging is before releasing.

"I said patience," Oscar teasing in a sing song voice before flicking my nipple piercing making me jump at the stimulation.

When Oscar finally climbs off the bed I see him pulling the rest of his clothes off, making me bite my lip softly when I see his already hard length.

Oscar climbs back into bed and quickly rolls a condom on making me bite my lip making me realize he's finally gonna give me the stimulation I was looking for.

When I feel the tip of Oscar's fat cock nudging at my clit I can't help the moan that falls from my lips.

"Beg for it," Oscar's smug voice rings out breaking me out of my lust induced haze to find him looking down at me with a smirk.

"Please," my voice weakly rings out in the room while I bring my hand down to his cock trying to get him to push his cock in.

"Greedy little thing," Oscar says with a smirk while pulling his hips back so I'm no longer touching his cock.

"Oscar God damn in, I need you to fuck me," I finally snap at the Aussie making him look down at me with a raised brow.

"Please," I add weakly.

Oscar wastes no time slamming his hips into mine filling me up with his cock and thrusting not giving me any time to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," I cry out when Oscar start thrusting directly into my G-spot.

I feel Oscar's arms wrap around my legs and pull them over his shoulders before leaning down and fucking me at a new angle.

"You take my cock so well," Oscar grunts out before placing a soft kiss on my lips while I moan into his mouth.

"Fuck, too much," I cry out when I can already feel an orgasm starting to build.

"Too. Much?" Oscar says while slowing down his thrusts but making sure to thrust into me roughly with each word.

"You were just crying for this? No?" Oscar teases before picking up his thrusts again and fucking into my soaked pussy even harder.

"I'm gonna cum," I cry out when Oscar continues to fuck me not letting his pace slow down in the slightest.

"I don't care, I'm not done fucking you," Oscar roughly tells me, making sure I know this is about his pleasure.

When I fall over the edge for the first time I can't help but squirt all over Oscar and I but it does nothing to slow him down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I cry in a chant as he continues to fuck me harder not giving me any time to come down from my high only throwing me instantly into another orgasm.

"Oscar!" I cry out through my second orgasm of the night. Instead of Oscar acknowledging me he quickly pulls out of my overly abused pussy and quickly flipping me over so I'm on all fours before pushing back into the gummy walls of my pussy.

"Fuck!" I cry when Oscar starts fucking me just as rough in a new angle hitting me in all different spots.

"So good," Oscar grunts letting the grip he has on my hips tighten before he takes one hand and slaps my ass as hard as he can,

"Fuck," I cry out when the pain of his spank finally registers through all the pleasure.

"Fuck, you're gonna cum again," Oscar points out when he can feel me clenching around him.

When Oscar starts slapping my ass and fucking into my pussy I fall over the edge again making me cry out.

"I can't!" I cry when I can feel Oscar starting to fuck me harder through my third orgasm.

When I can feel the overstimulation start to take course I can't help the tears that start to stream down my face.

"Give me one more," Oscar grunts out while taking my hair into his fist and pulling me up so my back is flush with his chest while he continues to fuck into my overworked pussy.

"Oscar," I cry out as the tears continues to stream down my face while his thrusts don't slow down into he slightest.

"Come on, one more," Oscar teases trying to coax me through my finale orgasm.

When Oscar pulls my hair even tighter exposing my neck even more he sinks his teeth into my shoulder while freeing his hand from my hair and bringing it to my throat giving it a squeeze.

"Fuck," I gasp through my cries while falling over the edge while Oscar continues to softly choke me. I can feel the waves of my orgasm only intensify as Oscar slowly chokes me harder with each passing second.

"Good girl," Oscar grunts while quickly pulling his cock from my pussy and pulling me by my hair to get on my knees where Oscar quickly pulls the condom off and shoves his dick into my mouth.

"Fuck," Oscar grunts as he slowly starts fucking my face allowing me to adjust to his size before he starts to pick up the pace making me gag around his length.

"Take me so good," Oscar grunts when his hips start to falter in pace slightly letting me know he was getting close to finishing.

"Fuck," Oscar grunts out before shoving his cock deep into my throat and starting to cum filling my mouth with his cum before pulling out and jerking the rest of his load all over my face.

I quickly swallow the cum he left in my mouth before opening my mouth and sticking out my tongue to allow Oscar to finish painting my face while trying to catch some of the load with my tongue.

"Fuck, such a good whore," Oscar grunts while one final rope lands on my tongue.

Oscar takes roughly 10 seconds to gather himself before he's pulling me off my knees and into his arms where he takes us into his hotel bathroom and placing me back on the counter.

"Did so good for me," Oscar says while taking a clean rag and getting it wet with warm water while slowly starting to wipe his excess cum off my face.

I allow Oscar to continue to softly wipe my face in silence before I finally lean down and pull him in for a soft kiss.

"Was that a good way to celebrate?" I ask softly with a small smile playing on my lips when I pull away from the kiss.

"The best way," Oscar tells me softly before pulling me back in for another kiss.

When Oscar pulls away from the kiss he turns his attention to the shower where he turns it on letting it warm up.

When the steam has finally filled the bathroom from the hot shower Oscar pulls me back into his arms and brings the both of us into the shower where I instantly relax into his arms letting the hot water relax my sore muscles.

"Was I too rough?" Oscar asks softly making me lift my head from his shoulder and look him in the eye.

"No, and you better not tell anyone but I think you just fucked me better than anyone else ever has," I admit with a smile tugging on my lips.

"That's bragging rights! I don't think I can keep that a secret," Oscar teases but I can still tell he's worried.

"I mean it Oscar! It was perfect, and there's a safe word if it really was too much," I tell him with softly running my fingers through his wet hair.

I can see him relaxing into my touch which makes me smile.

"Sorry if I left any visible marks," Oscar says sheepishly when he notices a few of the hickeys he's left behind.

"For a maiden win, there's no rules," I saw with a smile and a shrug. It takes Oscar roughly 10 seconds to realize no rules means he could fuck me with no protection.

"Fuck, you would let me?" Oscar asks looking me directly in the eye.

"I'm clean, and up to date on my birth control. I think it's safe to assume you're also clean," I say softly getting nervous at the idea I was pitching.

"Hey, if you don't want to we don't have to. Don't feel pressured," Oscar says when he starts to pick up on my energy shift.

"No, I do! I guess I just didn't know how you would feel," I admit softly making Oscar smile down at me.

"I would love to fill that pussy of yours up with my cum," Oscar says with a smirk making me smile and pull him down for a kiss.

I was expecting Oscar to become rough once again but this time he slowly pulls one of my legs ups to wrap around his waist while I feel him softly teasing my still soaked folds with his hard cock.

I whimper into the kiss when I feel him start to push into my still sore pussy.

"Can you go one more?" Oscar asks softly making me whimper and nod my head.

"Words," Oscar tells me sternly making me look him in the eye and verbally confirm that I wanted him to fuck me.

"Fuck," Oscar groans when he continues to push the rest of his length deep into my pussy making me whimper at the stretch.

"Oscar!" I moan out as he starts to slowly thrust his cock in and out of my sensitive pussy.

"Take me so well," Oscar groans as he slowly starts to speed up his thrusts making sure to hit my G-spot with each thrust.

"Feels so good," I gasp throwing my head back exposing my neck enough for Oscar to drop his mouth and start leaving small scattered kisses all alone my neck.

"I'm not gonna last," Oscar gasps speeding up his hips even more clearly chasing the same release I was chasing.

"I'm close," I whine while bringing my hand between our bodies and lightly teasing my clit while Oscar continues to fuck into me bringing both of us closer to cumming.

"Cum for me," Oscar groans softly making me fall over the edge and pulling him with me.

"Oh shit!" Oscar grunts while still pumping his hips into my pussy. During the waves of my orgasm I can feel Oscar's cum being pumped into my pussy making me whimper.

"So good," I whine out starting to come down from my high once again.

"Did so good," Oscar mumbles while softly pulling out and letting my leg rest of the ground so I can now stand on my own.

"So good for me," Oscar continues to mumble while starting to clean me up.

It was clear that no matter how rough or gentle Oscar fucked he would always spend the next several minutes praising and cleaning up. I couldn't help but blush under his praise and when we were finally cleaned up and helped me dress into one of his shirts before getting the both of us comfortable in his bed.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

A sweet angel and her corrupting devils

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Requested by: @flowerhetal

Request: “The twins with an inexperienced reader”

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you all had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I'm finally back and writing. Also, I really went on a tangent for this one, I’m very sorry. And I had to rewrite most of the book because I wanted it to be a BFB as Ginny's bestie, but by TOOTP Ginny is 14 and the twins are 17-18, and I knew someone would pick it up and yikes. So say hello to Ron's new bestie, who is legal. I’m gonna be honest, this one was difficult to write and I didnt like how slow it was because I was just pushing to get it uploaded after so long. I really don't feel like this is even in my top 10.

T/W: Virgin reader, Twins kinda baby reader, Umbridge causing pain, Fingering, Praise

The Twins were such sweethearts.

Despite their joking nature, they treated you like a glass statue. Even when they picked you up, they handled you with care.

Fred and George were 3 years older than you. Being Ron’s best friend meant that, at first, the twins saw you as an annoying little sister, just without the trademark hair and freckles. But then the attraction became increasingly obvious. Fred and George would pay more attention to you and always wanted to sit beside you when you stayed for a sleepover. After a brief conversation between the two, they had realised that you had become another shared trait for the twins.

It was only fair that they agreed to share your attention.

As the years passed and you all got older, that attraction never faded. The twins flocked to you. Whenever a new prank was ready, you would never be a target. But they’d make sure that you were there to bear witness since they loved the sound of your laughter.

You started going to them more often, telling them about your day and listening to theirs. They never let anyone mess with you, saying that anyone who did would become the next target for their best prank yet. However, you didn't think that threat would extend to staff members.

When Delores Umbridge walked through the doors of Hogwarts School, she didn’t plan to let you all go about your regular business. She had a plan, which involved corporal punishment. They had found you buried under a pile of duvets in your room, missing both lunch and dinner. When they first stepped into your room, they didn’t think you were even there until they heard soft whimpers coming from the blanket pile.

Pulling back a few layers revealed your shaking form. Eyes red and puffy from hours of crying and arm red raw from both Umbridge’s quill and the insatiable urge to itch that comes with any scar. The mantra on your arm read ‘I shall pay more attention in class instead of daydreaming’.

Even when you tried to hide away and burrow back into the safety of the blankets, George cradled your face in his hands.

“Sweet girl, it’s okay. She got you too, did she? Why don't you come out and let me and Freddie look after you”

The effect they had on you was pure magic. They could talk you into anything with their soft voices. You slowly emerged, clinging to George like a baby koala while Fred took the chance to examine your arm. He cooed softly as he pressed a kiss to your palm.

“Baby, you’ve been touching it haven’t you? You know you’re not meant to scratch your scars”

All Hogwarts rooms had a first aid box. Nothing too fancy, just a few bandages and elixirs for those first years who couldn't wait to duel. Although Fred could have used a spell to soothe your wound, a simple bandage had that closeness and cozy feel to it. There's something romantically tragic about bandaging your lover's wounds.

His fingers applied the elixir like a massaging oil before carefully applying the bandage. All the while, your face stayed tucked into George's neck. George splayed his fingers across your back, his lips brushing along your ear.

“We just want to take care of you. That’s all we’ve ever wanted, sweet girl”

Fred set aside the bottle and sat on the bed, his hands finding your hips. He slowly pulled you from George's lap and onto his own, his chest against your back while his hands encircled your middle. You didn't mind when his hands drifted to your abdomen, they always made you feel so safe.

“I bet no other boy has ever taken care of you, have they?”

George cooed while his own hands stroked your thighs, slowly getting higher. When you shook your head, he moved forward to part your thighs and nestle between them, causing your skirt to ride up. Fred pulled your skirt up slowly, letting you object if you wanted to.

“We know how to take care of pretty babies like you. You just have to trust Georgie and I. You can do that, can’t you?”

They already knew that you were putty in their hands, but your meek approval made it so much better. George slowly pulled your panties down and put them in his pocket before he spread your legs more. Just a glance at you told him all he needed to know. You really were a virgin. He shot Fred a glance before both boys just stared at you. Fred pressed a kiss to your ear.

“Are you sure you want this, baby? To give yourself to us like this? We can’t go back afterwards”

Your meek voice filled their ears despite how quiet you were.

“I want you both. Please? Please make the pain go away”

George leaned forwards and kissed your lips, his hand trailing down to stroke your clit. He revelled in the surprised whimper that seemed to escape you. While his thumb rubbed slow circles over your button, his fingers glided down to tease your pussy. George gathered your slick and slowly pushed his finger inside. You were tight. Too tight.

“Baby, do you ever…play with yourself?”

You looked up at Fred first before looking at George, your cheeks pink.

“No, is that wrong?”

Oh, you were sweet.

Fred pressed a kiss to your temple while George's lips kissed the tip of your nose. They wanted to teach you everything. Every kissing technique, every position, every special toy. You would be their eager little student, desperate for kisses and praise. They wondered if you got wet just from being called their good girl.

“It's not wrong at all, sweetie. It just means that Georgie and I get to spend more time with you. Practice makes perfect, right?”

George's finger slid back inside of you, keeping a slow pace to let you adjust. Fred's hand toyed with your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples while his other hand rested across your middle to keep you still when you squirmed. Every moan filled their ears as if you were their own private singer. Pure music. George could feel how much of your juices was coating his fingers, you were wet enough for more. His second finger joined the first, your walls practically suffocating them. His fingers angled up and pushed deeper.

A loud moan left your lips, your walls clamping down on George's fingers. Your body squirmed in Freds grip. His hand left your nipples to cover your mouth. God forbid anyone heard and interrupted them. George kept his thumb on your throbbing clit, adding pressure to keep you spaced out.

When your moans slowly subsided, George slowly pulled his fingers out of you and brought them up to his lips. Fred kept you in a tight grip, his hand leaving your mouth to stroke your cheek softly. Your body trembled between them, eyes still closed and chest heaving for oxygen.

“You did such a great job, baby. Such a sweet girl. I bet Georgie’s fingers felt so good”

They waited a while before deciding to clean you up, wanting to take in the pretty sight for a while longer.

They liked how pretty their girl looked for them.

[bitchface24-7]

Hi, im truly sorry to bother you, I apologise. But I admire your work and I have drank all of it attentively these days to escape from reality, you are truly a gem <33333. Which I don't know how to express my gratitude for it. I have been struggling my entire life to see myself worthy of gaining or receiving love, I have been insecure about my body. And after I read your fic plus size girls x jayvik I swear I cried in admiration. I just want to know if you could write a fanfic with jayvik in love with a curvy tall girl (I'm 1.78cm, I know it's not much, but I have been feeling like absolute fucking garbage lately). I truly hope all your dream come true, your pets live longer and a fucking raise. I love you, mon cherie <333 0w0

HATERS GONNA HATE - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: your whole life you've held insecurities, as most women do. You've always been too tall, too “large”, too much. It's weighed you down for too damn long. Your two boys make you realize your beauty, the beauty you've always had. They just took the wool off of your eyes.

warnings: negative self talk, talk of insecurities, childhood bullying, comfort, compliments, fluff, suggestiveness, pre-established relationship, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f

p.s. You're so sweet omfg 🥺🥺 I love you too!! I hope this fic comforts any and all who need it. I'm not tall (160cm/5’3) but I am thicker/curvy/fat (whatever term you want to use) like I've cried in changerooms since I hated how something looked on me/how I looked. Its peaks and valleys of self-love; and if my stories make y'all feel beautiful, I've done my part. Its also cathartic to me as well.

You've always been the odd one out. You were taller than all your classmates, you went through puberty first and got breasts before all your peers, you filled out and got curves much sooner than expected. Some may call this a blessing, to you it's a curse.

Now as an adult, you're taller than most men around you. You have a curvy figure yes, but it's not like the surgical, edited versions seen magazines and billboards.

You have nice breasts, but they're not defying gravity levels of perky, you have a smaller waist compared to your hips and shoulders, but you have rolls when you sit and twist your body, you have long legs, but they're not sculpted to perfection. You're just a woman.

A woman who hates what she sees in the mirror sometimes.

You nitpick insecurities others wouldn't even see, especially the people who love and care about you.

Jayce and Viktor think you're a goddess amongst men. That you're perfect, both inside and out. They love everything about you.

They love that you’re close in height to them, so they're not bending over to love on you (especially Viktor with his bad back), Jayce is obsessed with your hips and waist, and Viktor would like to die suffocated between your breasts.

So when they see you at your vanity after waking up and nitpicking yourself, well… that just won't do.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here you are, sitting at your vanity in a large t-shirt and undies, nitpicking away at yourself. Your hair is tossled from sleep, your eyes glittering as you look over yourself. Your hands drag across your face, into your hair, and over your body. Your mind repeating awful statements said about you over the years.

You're so engrossed in being mean to yourself, you don't see Viktor come up behind you and place your morning coffee onto your vanity.

“What’re you doing?” He asks his voice thick due to just waking up. His accent is heavy and heady. You feel your face heat up at his question, not expecting to be caught and the tone of his voice makes your heart flutter.

You freeze slightly, before looking at the handsome man in the mirror, “Just… looking at myself. Nothing to worry about.”

“In appreciation, I hope. Your furrowed brow and pout give you away my love. What’s on your mind?”

A sigh escapes your lungs as you grab your coffee and take a small sip, contemplating your words, “Am I— too much for you two?”

Viktor guffaws at that, his eyes wide when he looks at you, “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Y’know… too much. Too tall, too curvy, too chubby. Just— too much.”

“Who on earth put that ridiculous idea into your head?!”

A light incredulous laugh leaves you at the sight of an enraged Viktor. He looks like a mad cat.

“Society, classmates, magazines, and ads. I'm not… the picturesque standard of beauty.”

Viktor's lips narrow at your dejected tone, “You are the most beautiful women I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. You're personality is sparkling, and your physical beauty makes me question how a goddess like you could love a man like me.”

You whip around at that last statement, anger clear on your face, “A man like you? What do you mean.”

“A cripple. A poor man from the Undercity. A man who is weak, and ill, and not good enough for you.”

A snarl is what he gets in return for his statement, “Who told you that?! I’ll rip their tongue out for such disgusting comments! You’re wonderful Viktor, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about you!”

A knowing look is what you get and your anger immediately quells. Oh that sneaky, smart son of a bitch.

“So— now you know how Jayce and I feel about you. People, society in general are cruel. Our minds our biggest enemy. Jayce will agree with me.”

“Agree with you on what?” Said man asks as he enters the bedroom, a sleepy look on his face as he scratches his toned stomach and sips on his coffee, “What’s taking you two so long? We need to decide on breakfast and I’m getting hungry.”

You look away as Viktor cocks an eyebrow, “Our darling thinks she’s “too much” for us. She’s been ruthlessly nitpicking herself in the mirror.”

A loud gasp is all you hear before Jayce goes into a tangent, “Who told you that?! Give me their names and I’ll black list them from the council! What on earth are you talking about?! Too much? Too much! I’d say there’s not enough!”

“That’s cause you’re greedy sweetheart.”

“Shut up Viktor, my point still stands! You’re perfect babe. Ignore the haters, they hate because they’re miserable in their own lives and we all know the saying. Misery loves company.”

Jayce walks over to you and places his mug next to yours, his frame towering over you as he brackets your back and puts his hands on your thighs, “I’d die if you changed anything about yourself, your legs especially. Don’t take away my earmuffs. I’ll cry.”

You laugh as Viktor joins in and cups your breasts, you gasp at the feeling of his cold hands breaching underneath your shirt. “And don’t take my pillows away. I’ll be devastated and my sleep schedule will be shit again.”

The snort you let out is anything but lady-like, but they got their point across. They love you no matter what, even if they have favourite body parts of yours.

You smile at the two of them through the mirror and their eyes lock onto yours, before looking at each other; having a silent conversation.

“Y’know what… breakfast can wait. I’m hungry for something else.” Jayce states as he looks at you, his eyes big and pleading. His hands travelling up your thighs, over your undies, and he grips your exposed waist.

Viktor chuckles when he squeezes your breasts harshly and you gasp at the sensation, “I agree Jayce. What do you say my love, are you willing to indulge your two boys?”

You nod and before you know it, Jayce has tossed you onto the bed. Your coffee and breakfast completely forgotten as Jayce lowers himself in between your legs as Viktor sits behind you; his hands removing your top as he fondles your breasts and kisses your cheek and neck.

You’re their goddess, and they’ll worship you like one as well. They’ll continue to worship you until the end of time. Your devotees… How lucky you are.

Society sucks. Beauty standards suck. We’re all beautiful, expect we don’t see it. It’s time we pull the wool off of our eyes and see ourselves as we truly are. We’re perfect. No need to change anything. I hope y’all liked this, it made me feel quite a bit better. Love ya ❤️

[hivemuthur]

Hello love,

I was hoping to request a jayvik x reader with depression. Ideally a modern college AU, maybe reader hasn't left their room in a few days and the boys check on them?? Angsty fluff?? Do with this as you will, take what you want leave what you don't, whatever you write will be amazing. Make sure you're resting, eating, and touching grass love <3

Hi love! I'm sorry it took so long, I feel like two weeks might just settle as my current waiting time :v I confirm that eating and touching grass has been done today. Here it goes!

Help me get back to your arms

viktorxgn!reader general audiences, Modern college AU, depressed reader, comfort and fluff

author’s note: title from Radiohead's song Motion Picture Soundtrack. And thank you guys for sending me such lovely requests.

word count: 0,9K

—

Your phone keeps buzzing, and after some time, you stop bothering to check. You bury your head under the pillow and groan. It’s only been two days, hasn’t it? Or was it more?

The vibrations become so annoying that you finally pick up your phone, intending to turn it off—until you see the notification, and your heart melts a little. Jayce and Viktor are bickering in your group chat over the propriety of the memes Jayce has been sending you. And while some of them are, well… corny, the whole conversation still makes you smile.

Until a sharp knock on your dorm room door makes you jump, and your phone slips from your hand before you can finish reading.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, calculating whether you can just ignore it.

“Hey, it’s me!” comes a cheerful voice, and you already know Jayce is pressing his ear to the door.

“And me,” Viktor adds, with a hint of sulk that makes you sure he just rolled his eyes at Jayce and huffed.

“Yeah, right! It’s us. Can we come in?”

You glance around your room—uh, it’s a mess. You glance down at yourself—uh, you’re an even bigger mess. But before you can answer, the door cracks open.

Viktor’s worried face peeks through, his eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you. “Hey, darling. Can we come in?”

He pauses, waiting for confirmation, and you find yourself frozen in place, standing in the middle of the room, unable to say anything. So instead, you just nod and hold your arms out in front of you.

Viktor is between them instantly, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, his hand rubbing slow circles over your back. Moments later, Jayce presses up behind you, resting his chin on top of your head and sealing the group hug by placing his hands on Viktor’s shoulders.

Their scents mix together, and suddenly, you find it easier to breathe. Their chests press against you, squeezing the exhales from your lungs, and warmth blooms deep in your ribs. Viktor’s hair tickles your cheek, and Jayce’s palm rubs the back of your neck.

It’s safe.

“We brought food,” Viktor offers, tilting your chin up with his finger and giving you a soft smile.

“Or rather, snacks, since we figured real food might be too demanding,” Jayce corrects, and Viktor rolls his eyes again, murmuring something under his breath.

You sigh, your body sagging slightly between them. Food is the last thing on your mind right now. Instead, you ask, voice quiet, “How did you even know I was here?”

Viktor’s lips curve into a knowing smile as he tilts his head toward Jayce. “He has been refreshing Find My Friends for the last couple of hours before we decided to check.”

Jayce scratches the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. “Well… yeah,” he admits. “You weren’t answering, and we got worried.”

His eyes search yours, warm and careful, and after a moment, he asks, “How are you?”

You wince, and the reaction is instant—Jayce doesn’t push. Instead, he wraps you up in another firm hug, squeezing the answer out of you without making you say a word. “It’s okay,” he murmurs against your hair. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

Viktor, still holding your hand, squeezes it gently. “Do you want to watch a documentary instead?”

You nod, feeling the weight in your chest ease just a little.

“Good,” Viktor says, brushing his thumb over your knuckles before leading you toward the bed. “I have one on deep-sea creatures that might just lull you to sleep.”

“I like deep-sea creatures,” you mumble as you sit down.

Jayce chuckles. “Guess we’re watching creepy fish, then.”

The three of you settle onto the bed, shifting and adjusting until you find the right fit. Viktor puts the film on, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across the room. You’re nestled between them, your head resting on Jayce’s arm, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding you.

On your other side, Viktor nuzzles in, his head resting on your shoulder, his hair tickling the curve of your neck. His leg is lazily thrown over your hips, anchoring himself to you, as if making sure you won’t slip away. Their hands intertwine over your stomach, fingers laced together in a quiet show of solidarity.

For a while, the only sound is the deep-voiced narrator explaining the eerie bioluminescence of some deep-sea creature, but Jayce, never one to sit still for long, eventually rustles open a packet of jellies. He pops one into his mouth before holding the bag out to you.

You hesitate, but when he gives you a little nudge, you sigh and take one. As soon as you do, he grins knowingly and flicks his gaze to Viktor, who, despite his apparent focus on the documentary, quirks an amused brow.

“Predictable,” Viktor murmurs, his voice warm with affection.

Jayce just smirks, nudging your side playfully. “Yeah, yeah. But at least she’s eating.” Viktor hums in agreement, pressing the lightest of kisses to your shoulder before settling in closer. The weight of them, the warmth of their bodies, the way their presence demands nothing from you—it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

[milla-frenchy]

omg Odi... (sorry for my 352 messages waiting for you on discord but I needed to express my feelings 😂😂😂) damn... this is so beautiful 😍❤️

The angst is amazing, the texts are perfect, each word is so good!!

One of my favorite fic ever. The way you described the emotions, everything is so vivid, your writing hello???? and the whole fic is brilliant 🤌👌

Thank you for the emotions and for this masterpiece ❤️❤️

You: Still into music? Joel’s brows furrowed, the unexpected question caught him off guard. The memory hit Joel like a sucker punch. The songs. That was how you used to talk to each other when words didn’t feel like enough.

And this. Wow. I LOVE when ex's use something from "before" to communicate. I love it, so, so much

His thoughts churned like storm clouds—your words, the memories they dragged back, the ache of something he thought he'd buried years ago.

Aaaaah I love it I love it I love it

Your hips swayed to the rhythm, carefree and unselfconscious, like the world outside didn’t exist. You turned suddenly, catching him staring, and your smile lit up the room.   “What?” you teased, eyes sparkling. “You gonna stand there all morning, or are you gonna help me?”   “Don’t see a reason to move,” Joel drawled, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Got a real nice view from here.”   You rolled your eyes, but your laughter bubbled up, soft and sweet, filling the quiet space between you.

The intimacy, hello??? So good

Joel hadn’t responded with words. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand running idly through your hair. Actions had always been easier for him than words, and he’d hoped you understood what he couldn’t say.  

Damn, Odi... what the fuck. I have tears in my eyes for real. This is so beautiful. I love men that have a hard time expressing their feelings, men that need to use something else to do it. This is amazing

You: 3:01 - Exile by Taylor Swift.  His heart kicked up as he clicked the link and let the song play, skipping to the time stamp. The haunting melody filled the room, and when the lyrics hit, he froze.   “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Damn. Fuck fuck fuck

Joel: 2:26 - The Night We Met by Lord Huron.   He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then opened the song and skipped to the time stamp.   “I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.”  

jfc. And I have no idea how the fic is gonna end. You're torturing me, ma'am 😭😘

You: That’s a bold choice.  

hehehe, reader is so you on this one 😁😁😁 I can totally see you answer this 😁😁😁

You: 2:01 - All I Want by Kodaline Joel played the song, the ache in the lyrics settled heavy in his chest. "Cause you brought out the best of me. A part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul, wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie screens. But if you loved me, why did you leave me?" The words cut sharper than he wanted to admit.

You have NO idead how much I love this. Love their communication through music. It's such a brilliant idea!!!

The honesty in his voice made your breath hitch, and Joel caught the way your expression softened, your playful demeanor faltering for just a moment.

awww 🥹🥹🥹

And then the meeting, the ending. Wow. what a masterpiece 👌🤌

I'm gonna think about them for a long, long time

Reincarnated

Joel Miller x F!Reader // 4.5k

summary: A late-night text from an unknown number stirs up memories you thought you’d buried. It’s been years since Joel walked out of your life, but now he’s back. Old wounds resurface, boundaries blur, and the question lingers: is this a second chance or just another heartbreak waiting to happen?

warnings: this is just yearing, longing, sad tortured for years joel, theme's of heartbreak, no beta, two ex's, tommy makes an appearance, no smut here (I know I know this is not my usual)

notes: I don't usually write this kind of stuff (no smut) and I am not sure how I feel about it but this is my submission for @jolapeno's Dear-uary challenge my prompt was: An old flame unexpectedly texts the other after years of silence, sparking memories of their past relationship and wondering if the feelings are still there. A big thank you to @thundermartini my baby for holding my hand as per usual, helping me with the title, being my draft, my cheerleader supporting me through a hundred moodboard changes, @itwasntimethatdidit40 my sweet sweet freckles for being such a massive support, helping me with the moodboard pictures, being a cheerleader and reading through parts of this. and @sawymredfox for always being such a lovely support and listening to me ramble always I love you all more than you know.

masterlist

The sun dipped low behind the hills, painting the Texas sky in streaks of gold and crimson. Joel sat on the creaky old porch chair, boots propped on the railing, a glass of bourbon rested loosely in his hand. He wasn’t drinking to enjoy it tonight—more out of habit than anything. The bitter burn barely registered anymore.  

Beside him, Tommy leaned back in his chair, the faint smirk on his face telling Joel he was gearing up for one of his jabs. Tommy always had a knack for digging up things Joel preferred to leave buried.  

“You ever wonder what happened to her?” Tommy asked, his voice easy, like he was just making small talk. But Joel knew better.  

Joel’s grip on the glass tightened. He kept his gaze on the horizon, jaw clenching as he swirled the amber liquid. “Who?” he grunted, though his heart already knew the answer.  

Tommy chuckled, low and knowing. “C’mon, Joel. Don’t play dumb. You know who I’m talkin’ about. That woman you used to see when Sarah was little. The one who—”  

“Drop it, Tommy.” Joel’s voice was sharp, a warning shot, but Tommy, stubborn as ever, wasn’t backing down just yet.  

“Alright, I’ll drop it,” Tommy said, leaning forward. “But I’m just sayin��, you’ve been walkin’ around like a damn ghost for years now. You ever think maybe you oughta—”  

“I said drop it,” Joel snapped, his tone cutting through the lazy evening like a whip crack.  

That shut Tommy up, at least for a moment. He leaned back again, taking a swig of his beer and letting out a long sigh. “Fine. But you know I’m right. You can act like you don’t care, but I see it, Joel. Regret’s a hell of a thing to carry around.”  

Joel didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Instead, he stared out at the horizon, watching as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared behind the trees.  

————————

Later that night, Joel lay in bed, the house quiet save for the faint creak of the floorboards settling. Tommy’s words churned in his mind, unwelcome but persistent. Regret.  

The truth was, Joel had gotten real good at shoving his regrets into a corner of his mind and ignoring them. He had to. Otherwise, they’d eat him alive. But sometimes, like tonight, they crept back in, catching him off guard when his defenses were down.  

Your face came to him in flashes, unbidden but vivid as ever—the curve of your smile, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes had always seemed to see right through him.  

He’d thought about you more than he cared to admit over the years. Wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you were happy. Wondered if you ever thought about him.  

Joel sat up, running a hand through his hair as he glanced at the phone on his nightstand. The idea of reaching out had crossed his mind a hundred times before, but he’d always talked himself out of it. What would he even say? What right did he have to show up in your life again after all this time?  

Still, something about tonight felt different. Maybe it was Tommy’s words rattling around in his head. Or maybe it was the quiet, aching loneliness that had settled in his chest like an old friend.  

Before he could think better of it, Joel grabbed his phone. He opened a blank message, staring at it for what felt like an eternity. Then, he typed, backspaced and typed again until he finally settled on something.

Hey, it’s been a while.  

He hesitated, thumb hovering over the send button. His chest felt tight, like the weight of all the years and mistakes was pressing down on him. But before he could change his mind, he hit send.  

The message hung there on the screen, simple and unassuming, but it felt monumental. Joel stared at it, heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt in years.  

Minutes passed. Then longer. He sighed, setting the phone back on the nightstand. “Goddamn fool,” he muttered under his breath.  

But just as he was reaching to turn off the light, his phone buzzed.  

The buzzing sound jolted him more than he cared to admit. He picked it up, the faint glow of the screen illuminating his furrowed brow.

You: Who is this?

He hadn’t expected you to respond. Or maybe he had, but he hadn’t thought this far ahead. He was suddenly aware of how much rested on the next words he typed.

Joel: It’s Joel.

The three dots appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. They came back and stopped again. Joel could almost picture you sitting there, debating whether to even respond.

Then it came.

You: What do you want?

There it was. Direct. Guarded. Exactly what he expected. Joel leaned back against the headboard. He didn’t blame you. Hell, he deserved worse. But now that he’d started this, he couldn’t stop.

Joel: I don’t know. Just thought I’d check in.

The response came quicker this time.

You: After all these years? You just “thought you’d check in”?

Joel winced, hesitating over the screen again. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like enough.

Joel: I’ve been thinking about you.

Another pause. He could practically feel your hesitation through the phone.

You: Don’t. You don’t get to do that.

Joel stared at your message. His jaw tightened as he fought against the surge of guilt rising in his chest. You were right—he didn’t get to do this. But here he was, selfishly dragging the both of you back into a mess he’d created.  

He set the phone down, ran a hand over his face, and stared at the ceiling. Memories of you flickered in his mind—how your laugh used to light up a room, the way your touch had always grounded him when the world felt too heavy. He’d walked away, thinking it was the right thing to do. For Sarah. For her mother. For everyone but you.  

The phone buzzed again. He sighed, picking it back up.

You: Why now, Joel? What’s the point?  

He’d rehearsed this conversation in his head so many times over the years, but none of those imagined scenarios had prepared him for this.  

Joel: There is no point. I just couldn’t stop myself tonight. I know I don’t deserve to be texting you.  

You: You’re damn right you don’t. You broke my heart. You don’t just get to waltz back in like nothing happened. 

Joel: I know I did. And I’m sorry. I should’ve said it back then, but I was too much of a coward.

He stared at the screen, waiting, but no reply came. The silence felt heavier than the darkness surrounding him, and for a moment, he wondered if that was it. If you’d finally had enough and decided to let him rot in the bed he’d made.  

You: But why now, why tonight? 

Joel: Tommy brought you up. Got me thinking. 

The truth hung there, plain and unvarnished. He could’ve lied, could’ve made it sound more noble, but what good would that have done?  

You: So what, I’m some ghost you decided to chase because Tommy made you feel bad? 

Joel: No. It’s not like that. I’ve thought about you every damn day since I left. I know that probably doesn't mean shit to you, but it’s the truth. 

You: Every day, huh? Didn’t stop you from choosing her over me. 

Joel shut his eyes, the memory of that choice cutting through him like a knife. He’d thought he was doing the right thing back then but in the process, he’d shattered something else—something that had mattered more than he’d been willing to admit.  

Joel: You’re right. I made the wrong choice. I know that now.

You: I don’t know if I can do this.  

Joel stared at the words. He wasn’t sure if he could do this either, but he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want to let you go again.  

Joel: You don’t have to decide right now. Just let me talk to you. For a little bit. Please. 

You: Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for you.

A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at Joel’s lips. He didn’t expect it to be easy. He didn’t think he deserved it. But for the first time in years, there was a sliver of hope in his chest.  

Joel: Fair enough.

You: Still into music?

Joel’s brows furrowed, the unexpected question caught him off guard. The memory hit Joel like a sucker punch. The songs. That was how you used to talk to each other when words didn’t feel like enough.

Every morning, like clockwork, one of you would send a song with a time stamp—each track chosen so deliberately. Some days, it was your favorite love songs, sappy and sweet, reminding the other how much you cared. Other times, it was to lift each other up, a little nudge of hope when the world felt too heavy. And then there were the ones that said all the things neither of you could say out loud.

Joel: Always.

You: I’ll send you one tomorrow.

Joel: Looking forward to it.

Joel sighed, setting the phone back on the nightstand. Your last message sat heavy on his chest, lingering. He stared up at the ceiling, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the blinds. His thoughts churned like storm clouds—your words, the memories they dragged back, the ache of something he thought he'd buried years ago.  

Eventually, the exhaustion won out, pulling him under. Joel’s dreams carried him back to a time when life felt a little less heavy, and the weight of his choices hadn’t yet settled on his shoulders.  

He saw you clearly, like a photograph that had been buried but never faded. You were standing in his kitchen cooking breakfast, barefoot and wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on you, the sleeves rolled up past your elbows. It was early morning, sunlight streaming through the window and catching in your hair, painting you in a golden glow.  

Joel leaned against the doorframe, coffee mug in hand, watching as you hummed along to Fishin' in the Dark by The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band on the radio—one of those old country tunes you both loved. Your hips swayed to the rhythm, carefree and unselfconscious, like the world outside didn’t exist. You turned suddenly, catching him staring, and your smile lit up the room.  

“What?” you teased, eyes sparkling. “You gonna stand there all morning, or are you gonna help me?”  

“Don’t see a reason to move,” Joel drawled, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Got a real nice view from here.”  

You rolled your eyes, but your laughter bubbled up, soft and sweet, filling the quiet space between you. He couldn’t help but cross the room then, setting his coffee down on the counter as his hands found your waist.  

“Joel Miller,” you said, feigning exasperation as he pulled you close, his fingers brushing along the curve of your hip. “I’m trying to make breakfast, and you’re—”  

“Distractin’ you?” he interrupted, leaning in so his nose brushed against you.  

“Exactly.”  

“Good,” he murmured, before pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You let out a soft sigh, melting into him, and for a moment, everything felt perfect—like the rest of the world could wait.  

The memory shifted, flickering like an old film reel. You were both lying on the couch now, tangled up in each other as a record spun on the turntable, and he could hear your voice, quiet but clear, singing along to a song you’d claimed was “for him.”  

“Every time I hear this one, I think of you,” you’d confessed, your head resting on his chest.  

Joel hadn’t responded with words. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand running idly through your hair. Actions had always been easier for him than words, and he’d hoped you understood what he couldn’t say.  

When Joel woke, the room was still dim, dawn just beginning to creep through the cracks in the blinds. He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly as the previous night settled back onto his chest. His phone caught his eye, and he hesitated before reaching for it.  

The screen lit up, and there it was—a new message.  

You: 3:01 - Exile by Taylor Swift. 

His heart kicked up as he clicked the link and let the song play, skipping to the time stamp. The haunting melody filled the room, and when the lyrics hit, he froze.  

“I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending.”

Joel leaned back against the headboard, staring at the phone in his hand. The words hit harder than he’d expected—bitterness woven into a truth he couldn’t deny. But beneath the sting, there was something else.  

You’d sent him a song. After all this time, after everything that had passed between you, you’d listened, and you’d answered. It wasn’t an olive branch, not exactly, but it was a thread. A connection. A chance.  

Joel stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity, the song still playing in the background. The words hit like a gut punch, raw and honest in a way only music could manage. He exhaled slowly. He had to respond, and it had to be right.  

Scrolling through his playlists, he searched for something that could say what he couldn’t put into words. A chance to prove he wasn’t the man who had walked away. Something that could show you he wasn’t taking this lightly, that he regretted the past.

Then he found it.  

Joel: 2:26 - The Night We Met by Lord Huron.  

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, then opened the song and skipped to the time stamp.  

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met.”  

The lyrics bled through the room, a haunting confession of longing and regret. He closed his eyes, letting the melody wrap around him like a cold embrace. It wasn’t just a song—it was a plea.  

Minutes passed with no reply, the silence stretched long and thin. Joel’s chest tightened, doubt creeping in like an unwelcome guest. Maybe he’d read too much into your message. Maybe sending the song was too much.  

The phone buzzed in his hand, and his breath hitched.  

You: That’s a bold choice.  

A small, humorless chuckle escaped him. Bold, sure—but it was the truth.  

Joel: Figured it was fitting.  

You: It is. But that night it’s a hard one to go back to.  

Joel swallowed painfully, the weight of your words settling over him like a lead blanket. He didn’t blame you. 

Joel: I know. I can’t change the past. But I wish I could.  

You: Wishing doesn’t fix anything.  

Joel: You’re right. But maybe it’s a start.  

You: We’ll see.    

The conversation faded into silence after that, but Joel didn’t mind. For the first time in years, he felt like he’d taken a step—small, tentative, but forward.  

He wasn’t walking away this time. Not again.  

——————————

The next day started quietly for Joel. After his usual morning routine—coffee, and an aimless walk around the property—he finally glanced at his phone, half-expecting silence, but there it was

You: 2:01 - All I Want by Kodaline

Joel sat on the oak chair at his kitchen table, his phone resting in his palm as All I Want faded out. Your song hit him square in the heart—a combination of longing and accusation he couldn’t argue with. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table.

Joel played the song, the ache in the lyrics settled heavy in his chest. "Cause you brought out the best of me. A part of me I'd never seen. You took my soul, wiped it clean. Our love was made for movie screens. But if you loved me, why did you leave me?" The words cut sharper than he wanted to admit.

Why did you leave me?  

The answer felt too big, too tangled in old guilt and choices he couldn’t take back. Joel rubbed his hand over his mouth, trying to think of the right response. Music had always been your language, but today, the words felt harder to choose.  

After a while, he scrolled through his playlists again, stopping when his thumb hovered over a familiar title. It wasn’t just about the lyrics—it was the feeling, the truth of what he wanted to say but couldn’t. He thought it might somehow tip the scales in his favor and so he typed.

2:41- Let Her Go by Passenger 

He opened the song and let the timestamp play, you only know you love her when you let her go and you let her go.

Finally, he hit the button, watching as the message marked "Delivered."  

The phone sat in his hand as he leaned back against the kitchen chair, the melody echoing in his mind. This back-and-forth of songs and guarded words—it felt like a lifeline, but also like walking on a tightrope. He wanted more, needed more, but he wasn’t sure if you were ready to give it.

The phone buzzed, breaking his thoughts.

You: You always pick the gut-punchers.

Joel exhaled a small laugh.

Joel: Never been good at subtle.

You: You’ve still got good taste in music, I’ll give you that. Suprised it’s not an oldie.

Joel smiled, a faint warmth spreading through his chest. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was a step—a reminder that some part of you still wanted to talk to him.

By the sixth day, it felt like you both slipped back into old habits, texting each other all day about everything and nothing. Joel found himself smiling more, laughing even. It wasn’t like the years hadn’t happened—those gaps still lingered, but they didn’t feel so wide anymore.

—————————————

The next few days blurred together in a steady rhythm of texts. It started slow—Joel’s messages were careful and measured. A “good morning” here, a comment about the weather there, and a song in between. But soon, the conversations stretched longer, dipping into familiar topics and inside jokes he hadn’t thought about in years.

It was comfortable and natural. Everything was falling back into place, even though you weren’t sure if you were ready to let it.

Joel: Thought about calling you earlier.

You: Why didn’t you?

Joel: I don’t know. Didn’t wanna push too hard, I guess. But I miss hearing your voice.

You: Well if you’re going to call, might as well make it a video call. Let’s see if you’ve aged as much as you sound like you have ;)

Joel blinked at the screen, his lips twitching into a surprised smile. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the hallway mirror. “Damn you old fool,” he muttered to himself, brushing a finger over the lines on his face.

Joel: You sure? Don’t want to scare you off.

You: I’ll take my chances.

Joel chuckled, the sound low and almost nervous as he tapped the video call button. His heart thudded in his chest as the screen shifted, the ringing filling his ears until, finally, the call connected.

Your face appeared, a little blurry at first before the image settled. Joel stared, his breath catching at the sight of you, just as beautiful as he remembered.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence.

Joel swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone. “Hey,” he replied. He gave a small, self-deprecating smile. “Guess this is me. Older, grayer, and maybe a little wiser.”

You tilted your head, a smirk forming on your lips. “You don’t look half bad… for an old man.”

Joel chuckled, the sound more relaxed this time. He paused, his eyes scanning your face through the screen. “It’s real good to see you.”

You nodded, your expression softening. “It’s good to see you too.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing as the two of you settled into the call. His smile lingered, even as he tried to play it cool. “Y’know, video calls weren’t much of a thing last time we talked.”

You laughed, resting your chin on your hand. “Yeah, it’s weird seeing you like this. Makes you feel closer, though.”

He nodded, the warmth in your voice made his chest tighten. “Closer’s good. Been too damn long.”

Your gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything, just letting the silence stretch. Joel was the first to break. “So, I passed the test, then? Don’t look too ancient on camera?”

You laughed, the sound sending a ripple of nostalgia through him. “You’re doing okay. Grays suit you.”

“Flatterin’ me now, huh?” He leaned forward slightly. “I think you’re tryin’ to distract me.”

“Distract you from what?” you asked, raising a brow, but there was a playful lilt in your voice.

“From how damn beautiful you are,” he said, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them. He blinked, his expression shifting as if he wasn’t sure he should’ve said it.

“You always were a charmer, Miller.”

“Not sure ‘bout that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Think I just say what I mean when it comes to you.”

The honesty in his voice made your breath hitch, and Joel caught the way your expression softened, your playful demeanor faltering for just a moment.

“You always did have a way of catching me off guard,” you said finally.

“Guess it’s mutual, then.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’ve always had a knack for makin’ me say things I don’t plan on sayin’.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like tellin’ you how beautiful you are,” he said without missing a beat, his tone steady now, as if he’d decided to own the moment. “How much I’ve missed seein’ that pretty face, hearin’ your laugh.” He paused, his eyes holding yours through the screen. “How much I’ve missed you.”

“Joel…” you began, but he cut you off with a gentle smile.

“Don’t gotta say anything,” he said softly. “Just… wanted you to know.”

You shook your head, a smile breaking through. “You always do this, you know? Say something that makes it impossible to stay mad at you.”

“Not my intention. So, how ‘bout you? You miss me at all, or am I just an old fool?”

"I mean, you are an old fool, but…"

"But?"

"But maybe I missed you a little," you teased, holding your thumb and forefinger an inch apart for emphasis.

He shook his head as a laugh rumbled out of him. "A little, huh? Should’ve known I’d only get a half-assed compliment outta you."

"Hey," you shot back, grinning now, "that’s more than most people get. Consider yourself special, Miller."

"Special, huh? Careful now—you keep sweet-talkin’ me like that, and I might start thinkin’ you missed me a lot."

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Don’t push your luck."

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged, full of unspoken things. Joel shifted in his chair, his thumb brushing absently along the edge of the phone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this, how much he’d needed you. And now that he had you on the other end of this call, he wasn’t sure how he’d gone so long without it.

“So,” he started, his voice softer now, “what have you been up to all these years? Catch me up.”

You shared bits and pieces of your life. Joel listened intently, his eyes fixed on the screen like you might vanish if he looked away. Your laugh filled the space between his words, and every now and then, you’d tease him about his “old man” habits or the way his drawl had only gotten thicker.

It was easy. Too easy. And Joel realized he didn’t want the call to end.

“Y’know, this… this ain’t enough. Seein’ you like this. Hearin’ you talk. Feels good, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not the same.”

You hesitated, your smile faltering. “What are you saying, Joel?”

“I’m sayin’… I wanna see you. For real. None of this video callin’ nonsense.” His voice dropped lower, softer, like he was afraid you might say no. “Just you and me. Like old times.”

You blinked, your lips parting in surprise before a slow smile spread across your face. “You sure you’re ready for that? Seeing me in person might ruin the illusion.”

“Doubt that,” Joel said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take my chances.”

The day of the meeting came quicker than Joel expected. He stood outside the small café you’d chosen, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets to keep them from fidgeting. His heart was pounding in a way that made him feel like a damn teenager again, but he couldn’t help it. This wasn’t just any meeting. This was you.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Miller. When and where?”

————

He looked around waiting to see you, and then Joel froze. There you were, standing just a few feet away, your face illuminated by the golden afternoon light. You looked just as he remembered, and yet somehow different—like time had added something to you, something he couldn’t quite put into words. His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t move.

And then your eyes met.

It hit him like a punch to the gut, the kind of emotion he thought he’d buried long ago. There was no escaping it, no pretending it wasn’t there. The way you smiled at him, tentative and warm, like you were testing the waters but already knew the outcome—it was enough to undo him completely.

“Joel,” you said softly. It was the same voice he’d been hearing in his head for years, the one he’d convinced himself he could live without. But now that it was real, there was no going back.

“Hey,” he managed, his voice rough and uneven. He took a step closer until he was standing right in front of you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at each other, the weight of the years between you pressing down and then lifting all at once. Joel’s eyes traced every line of your face, every detail he’d missed, and he felt something settle deep in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

It was undeniable, inevitable. Whatever this was, whatever it could be—there was no stopping it now. Joel knew it, and by the way you looked at him, he knew you did too.

“Guess we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he said finally, his lips quirking into a small, lopsided smile.

“Yeah,” you replied, your own smile soft but full of promise. “We do.”

And as Joel held the door open for you, letting you step inside first, he felt it—the certainty that this wasn’t the end of something but the beginning.

Whatever came next, he knew one thing for sure - you were in it, and there was no turning back.

[lara4eclipze]

» I Miss Us

sypnosis: lara was never one to be in situationships nor talking stages, she claimed it was stupid and would only end up with ones heart broken or yearning — yet here she was missing you her only situationship

warning: angst, situationship, hurt no comfort, swearing, ghosting, italics for flashbacks, etc

talks: I'm so sorry for those requests i haven't written yet BUT trust i am gonna write some and release them maybe today and tomorrow!, thank you for your patience ^^

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara stared at her phone, at your conversation to be specific — it's been two months since you two have even chatted, in lara's opinion is the longest two months of her life

lara used to get excited just staying up and chatting with you — sneaking out of the dorms just to have drinks or eat out with you, it didn't matter that she could've been caught by her management — what mattered to her was you

the door to the kats shared house creeks louder than lara would've wanted — her eyes adjust to the dark environment only to make out a figure standing near the kitchen, their leader sophia

"where have you been?!, you know i have been worried sick? i called everyone including your mom!" sophia screams at lara, maybe for the first time in a while — atleast lara wants to pretend like so

in reality lara has been on sophias nerves ever since she started to talking to you — she always left without telling anyone she would be lazy in practices just so that she can chat with you

"go to your room — and whoever it is you are meeting up with, stop it lara you're getting too distracted" sophia mutters trying to keep her calm demeanor "stop telling me what to do" lara snaps back

"do it or ill tell the management team" sophia threatened, it all just stopped from that moment on — lara had to choose between her needs and wants, she walked silently to her shared room fidgeting with her phone

she debated whether to chat you or listen to sophia yet as much as she hated what she was gonna do she did it

she ghosted you.

the first week was confusing to say the least — lara who always chatted with you through every platform was now getting cold?, her usual energetic response to your chats were now replaced with "yeah" or "okay"

the second week was weird, lara had took almost 2 - 3 days just to respond to you, you double texted you had even called her a few times yet it always ended with her giving you a honestly lame excuse

the third to fourth week hurted the most, lara had fully ghosted you, she didn't respond at all, you knew she was active on her socials i mean she posted every week — she always saw your texts she just chose not to open them, you got desperate for even a drop of her attention, it got so bad to the point you tried contacting her other mutual friends

by the second month you had started to accept what had happened — you didn't wait for a notification from her user anymore, you didnt expect a miracle to happen

lara breaths heavily as she back reads on your chats — it took all of her courage not to call you during all of this, she tried and tried making herself believe that you were just a waste of time that you were just a distraction

yet every little thing makes her remember you, late night trips?, your favorite food, even your scent — it all comes back to you

maybe you were meant for eachother just not in this time not in this moment — she sighs massaging her temples, her lips pressed into a thin line as longing creeps into her

she types then deletes again, types and then deletes — maybe it was too long?, too casual? — lara over analyzed her text to you, until she just typed something simple

a notification pops up on your phone, it was 2 am who would be awake in such hour?

my laru♡: hi, how are you?

your heart sinks, everything you've worked so hard for has come down to this moment, moving on, crying even denial that she ghosted you

y/n: I'm good.

lara's mood shifts, you really are gone — the period on the end of the sentence and the proper grammar, screamed over her

my laru♡: I'm sorry, i miss us

you wanted to respond saying you do too, you missed hours and hours of taking with her — laughing at the stupidest things ever, god even that stupid nickname she had in your chats

y/n: me too.

yet as reality dawns on lara, its all a sick cycle — she could never date you, because of her career, she just wanted to pretend that it didnt matter just for a few more minutes

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Poolverine 46. nanny/single parent au. Wade would give such great Fran vibes.

Wade knocked at 24601 French street and waited. There was a shout, some cursing, someone tripping over something, another swear and something thrown at a wall before the door opened. Mr. ‘Call me Logan for fuck sakes’ Howlett opened the door looking like a hot mess. 

More of a mess then hot. 

“Wade? The babysitter?”

“Sure thing boss man.” Wade said with a thumbs up. The older man instantly looked like he regretted hiring the Merc. Not that he knew Wade was a Merc for hire.

Now this wasn’t the job Wade was expecting when he put out a notice saying he’d work for dirt cheap so long as it came with a free beer. He was expecting low ball offers for hits, and maybe some cat napping. Maybe stealing back a sweater from a crazy ex. He did not expect $8.50 an hour to watch Mr. Howlett’s three chaotic children. He really didn’t expect Mr. Howlett to really be Officer Howlett who’d tried to arrest him no less than seven times this month alone. Not that the man knew who Wade was, seeing as he wasn’t in his awesome red body condom suit. 

“Come in, don’t bother taking off your shoes, Jubilee spilled glitter all over the fucking place again.” Wade went into the house with his head high ready to take on this challenge. 

There were three kids standing in the living room. One holding an unopened bottle of glitter, who Wade suspected was Jubilee, looking about to pour glitter on the youngest girl. The youngest was swearing in Spanish, saying words Wade didn’t want to repeat- damn thats fucked up shit- lastly was the oldest, who looked like she was trying to pull Jubilee away from what disaster was about to happen. 

“Girls!” The father hissed. The three girls broke apart and all spoke at once. 

“Don’t you see daddy- I was just tryin to help?” 

“Laura bit me so I was going to-

“Maldito culo de perra hijo de puta”

“Enough.” The father growled out in such a way that all three shut their mouths. An array of angry faces glared up at their dad, before looking quizzically to Wade. “Wade, these are my daughters. Anne Marie-”

“Call me Rogue.” The girl stood proudly, her fluffy hair seaming more wild.

“She’s going through her rebel phase. Just call her whatever the fuck she wants. That’s Jubilee-”

“Hiya Mr. Why do you look like that? Did you fall into lava or somethin’? Why’d ya do that? Wha-”

“And lastly we have Laura.” The smallest child looked Wade up and down.

“El Coño”

“La puta.” Wade said back. The child took one second to look surprised before a far too wide smile grew on her face. The two other girls were sizing him up. He felt like he was thrown to the wolves. The wolves were three girls under the age of 14. This was about to be his most difficult mission yet. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it out drowning in teen angst, unglitterfied or even bitten, but he was excited to see what the hell the day brought.

I had to google who Fran was... I'm sorry Anon! I hope this is okay!! Debated on adding more- I was thinking Wade would use his merc skills to keep these kids from killing each other- but then I thought no I kinda need a nap before I write more. Please keep sending the asks!! I'd love to spend the day writing ideas and little ficlets!

[suddencolds]

Hello! I'm not sure if you remember, I'm a Korean reader who left the comment for a few months ago. As I mentioned before, it was so hard finding any snz fic or any of this culture in my country. When I first joined the forum site and discovered your fics, I've really enjoyed reading all of your Yves& Vincent fics many times. Time has passed now, but they're still very special to me. Thank you for the amazing writings.

I drew a fan cartoon from the first episode(Erika's home party scene), and I would love to give this to you as a gift. It hasn't been long since I joined Tumblr, so I'm not sure if this is the right place of sending fan arts💦

+ ) Oh, and about my account... One of my friends knows my account, so it's not easy to reveal my fetish on my account if you wonder why it doesn't look like a fetish one ..😅 But I can say I'm truly into it

+) And I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured all of a sudden by this😢

Still, I'm really rooting for you from afar, thank you!

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO?@!$?>!@>?@?>@$?>>?@$!?>$!>?

I ACTUALLY GASPED OPENING MY INBOX TO THIS???!?!??!?!??!?!??! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I AM SO HONORED THAT YOU TOOK THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? IT'S SO COOL GETTING TO SEE THIS SCENE IN A VISUAL COMIC FORMAT 🥹❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ THANK YOU SO MUCH???????

going to add more screaming under the cut because man do I have so many things to say

I am really happy you chose this scene (from Fool Me Twice pt. 3) to draw; it's actually one of my personal favorites :') your Vincent is SO CUTE 😭 He's so outwardly nonchalant about all of this (but the slight flush to his cheeks is getting me 🤭 Right after he says 'She'll probably be expecting us to kiss' too???? I love the implication that he is perhaps less composed about all of this than he appears to be 😊‼️)

THE FACT THAT VINCENT CUPS YVES'S JAW TO KISS HIM??? AND THE WAY YVES CLOSES HIS EYES INTO THE KISS??? I really love how you drew all the tension and uncertainty leading up to that point... but then when they kiss it just feels so natural 😭 I also love the way you framed this... the balcony railing and the atmosphere of having the fireworks in the background go off when the countdown ends 😭!!! And the framing shot of the party inside... I am still so in awe that you made an entire comic of the scene?????? I feel so honored??????

ALSO YVES 😭😭😭 the intimacy of seeing it drawn and seeing him snz in such close proximity to Vincent is genuinely setting me on fire 😭 aLSO THE WAY HE TURNS AWAY SO QUICKLY AND COVERS HIS WHOLE FACE WITH HIS HAND??? 😳😵‍💫 The frame where his hand lingers over his face as he sniffles is sooo cute... he looks so embarrassed and apologetic 🥹❤️ I am so normal about this (I am not normal at all)

Vincent's "You don't have to worry about that :)" is making me giggle too 😭 Also I am in love with how you drew both their hair?? I want to give your Yves a hug so badly omg 😭

THANK YOU AGAIN FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DRAW THEM????? Seeing this made me so happy 😭 I no joke like hopped onto my bed and rolled around smiling 😭 You put so much thought into the placement for everything; the way you drew Y + V's expressions and their body language feels very thoughtful and nuanced, and it's just such a treat to see the scene unfold like this :') I am so endlessly grateful 🙇‍♀️❤️

[xxgoldie]

long ass summary of a fic I'll probably never write even tho I think abt it all the time. sex mention but nothing explicit.

----

i have a lot of thoughts about lighter and a reader that he knew back in his mercenary days. he's said himself he was reckless and cocky in those days, and I think it was probably the closest he had to a fuckboy phase - he was younger and stupider and high on the power and attention, so he took advantage of the fact he seemed able to get anyone he wanted.

except you. you never took the bait, rolling your eyes and telling him you don't mess around with mercs. especially not such overconfident ones. at first, you're a challenge, a puzzle for him to figure out. he follows you around all full of teasing and flirting as you reject him on every turn. but at some point it turns into a weird fondness - he begins to think of you as a friend, and you start to care for him and worry when he's not around.

maybe at some point, you both have too many drinks and you finally get with him. maybe you make out against the wall of some dingy dive bar. maybe you end up in his bed. and maybe you wake up the next morning filled with regret, not because it was a bad experience or because you abandoned the principles that had kept you rejecting him, but because you could feel yourself getting attached to him and, from your perspective, he'd treated your entire relationship as a game of getting in your pants. fine, then. he won. you slip out before he wakes up and stop answering his calls.

you never do get a chance to talk it out, because just over a week later, lighter's friends die in that hollow and his entire life crumbles. you hear about it through the grapevine, and with your entire community, you mourn quietly. they were common faces in the area, acquaintances if not friends to all. lighter is nowhere to be seen - the grapevine says he disbanded the rest of the group and disappeared. you wonder how he's doing, how he's handling it, but you can never bring yourself to pick up the phone and ask. it doesn't take long for you to figure you'll never see him again and try to push the memories to the back of your mind.

except you do see him again, years later, with a red scarf around his neck and sunglasses on his face and a gentler, more mature aura that has you questioning if it's really him. but if the way he flicks his lighter around isn't proof that this is the guy you used to know, then someone calling his name from the nearby bar definitely is.

when he sees you, lighter nearly turns tail and runs. he's sure he turns white as a ghost, which is ironic considering you're the one that feels more like a ghost to him. you're a stark, haunting reminder, not just of the times before he'd lost everything, but of the exact reasons it had happened. he had treated you how he had treated life back then; confident, selfish, taking every good thing around him for granted. and that was what had killed them. but despite his gut-wrenching instincts to avoid avoid avoid, lighter is not one to run from his problems. so he gives you an awkward smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes, and he waves.

you're not sure if it's the new energy he's giving off or just sheer curiosity, but you walk over to him. and during the reintroductions, lighter realises that maybe he can salvage this. maybe you could be friends, and he could make up for the person he used to be. it wouldn't bring his friends back, but it would be a small sort of atonement.

"if you've got time now, let's catch up. let me buy you a drink-" "a lot has changed the last few years, but I still don't mess around with mercs, lighter" "that's... not how I meant it, sorry. honestly, I'm sorry for how... persistent I was back then."

you watch him ignore the fact that the last time you saw each other, you'd been in a naked tipsy afterglow in his bed. he watches you laugh at his words like you'd forgiven him years ago. and you sit down and talk. he tells you where he's been the last few years, maybe giving more details than he's given anybody else, but after a time, you both turn to talking about your current lives. and he remembers just how easy talking to you is, and how there was always something about you that made it just impossible to give up, something that had drawn him in past the cat and mouse game he'd imposed on you even back then.

he won't pursue you this time, though. he can't. it's his penance. if he has a chance, which he highly doubts, it needs to come from you. he wants your friendship more than anything right now, to salvage a scrap of his past like the dogtags he wears around his neck. if, in the back of his mind, sometime over the midday drinks on the first time you've seen him in years, he realises he's loved you all along, then that is his cross to bear and he will bear it in silence.

but, much to his surprise, you Do initiate. before he knows it, your number's in his phone and you're inviting him for drinks and coffee every week and you press a quick kiss to his cheek when he drops you home. and lighter can't quite stop himself from flirting back, just a little, the occasional protective hand around your shoulder or teasing quip.

it's ironic, really, that it's once again a drunken night where you end up in his bed that tips the two of you over the edge. it doesn't feel like some casual hookup this time - it can't, with everything the two of you have been through and everything that hangs over you. he tells you he loves you and you're too dizzy with pleasure to process it until the next day.

in the morning, he wakes up with you in his arms, skin against skin. he holds you tighter, pushing your slowly waking mind past the threshold out of sleep.

"you didn't leave this time." he mutters sleepily into your hair.

"mm, less scared I'll get hurt if I get attached this time," you confess, and something about it feels natural to both of you, not like some great revelation.

"you should stay," is all he responds, as if the way he's holding you would let you leave even if you wanted to. then, before he can think better of it, "stay forever."

you giggle, pressing a kiss to the nearest patch of his skin you can find - his shoulder - before snuggling up to go back to sleep.

"I'm not going anywhere."

----

the fact this is as long as it is as like a summary can explain why I will probably never get round to writing this properly let alone finishing it

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 9: you'll hate me

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.”

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway, things are different now, too.”

---

You could never hate him. After years of waiting to see Tsumiki again, you can finally do so now. Yet still, there's a sombreness in the air, and Megumi won't let you place a finger on it just yet.

word count: ~3k; tws: none for now ^-^

short a/n: hi everyone! I'm so sorry this took so so long, I really missed you all a lot. basically, school and life got a bit busy, but I'm happy to say I'm back now :). I've written an update here where I just talked about some matters regarding the series and my writing. you can read it if you'd like, because personally I think it's quite important for you to do so if you read this fic :)

28-6-2018 

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” 

Megumi moves the blanket away from him, blinking sleep out of his eyes still. You hoist yourself up until your back is against the headboard. 

“The blanket wasn’t here before I fell asleep, I think,” he voices out, nearly inaudible, drenched in the aftermath of a deep slumber, “Did you—” 

You nod your head.  

“...thanks.” 

At this moment, it’s as if nothing exists. Just you and him and the sky at blue hour, on his bed doing something that people who are just friends shouldn’t do. The urge to trace over his face— over his shut eyelids and sharp nose and thin lips— clings to you like a second nature, one which you never thought you had. There’s hair on his head like a nest you’re itching to touch, spiky and jet black like blades of grass. 

You’ve seen this kind of movie before, felt these feelings with your best friend, no less— and now they’ll eat you up from the inside like bacteria on a rotting fruit. Because feeling like this means feeling everything else assault you all at once: you don’t know if you'd like to bury your face into something and scream, or cry from the fact that it may be unrequited, or jump around in joy for everything good Megumi has done for you. 

But forget the sorcerers, forget the healing, forget the cursed techniques and the need to be useful and needed for one second, forget your parents, forget Tsumiki, even— and you can’t believe you thought that. What can they offer which you can’t find next to him, right now, on a warm twilight with cold blankets and pillows? 

There are so many things you have wanted. But right now, just this is enough. 

“Sometimes I regret talking about how I feel, being emotional and things like that— to the point that if I feel things strongly, these days I try not to show them. It’s… the vulnerability, I guess. Letting your walls down. I know it sounds super cliche, and I know that about 80% of the time I probably fail at this, and that it’s not always good being like that—” stirring him further into consciousness, “—but I think you’re the same, just in a different way. You don’t like talking about your feelings. Still, I have to say, I really enjoy this, these things we do.” 

His gaze stays locked on yours, and silence fills the air again; nothing but steady breathing. You wonder, if there’s anything he thinks about when he’s alone on mornings like these, whether he thinks about you. 

“So do I.” 

The girls’ and boys’ bathrooms are right next to each other. So at 4 in the morning, when everyone else is still asleep and the sun is yet to rise, you bump into Megumi after brushing your teeth. 

“Not going to shower?” he asks. 

“The sound will travel and it may wake the others up. What about you?” 

“I don’t shower in the mornings, only at night.” 

“Oh, right.” 

He pauses for a while, makes a little sound to fill in the gaps of his hesitation. You wait for him patiently. “Tsumiki… I can let you know about what happened to her. The truth is, she—” 

“Take your time,” you interrupt him. You aren’t stupid; something bad must have happened to her for him to be like this. Any slither of hope you have left that she’s all fine and good was used to play dumb and deny yourself the truth. 

“...let me take you there. To where she is.” 

For more than half your life, Tsumiki’s been a constant. As you moved around and floated between friend groups, you felt lonely in every waking moment; only wishing for the days when you had Tsumiki and Megumi again. That was the impact they had on you. So after such a long wait, your heart leapt with joy at the thought of seeing her again. 

“Okay.” 

“Actually, do they not have a curfew? It’s only 5 am,” you say as the two of you are on the sidewalk, next to each other; not with either of you in front of the other. You pull the strap of your bag up every time it slips down. 

“They do, but it’s only until 4 in the morning. It’s not as if it’ll be easy for sorcerers to obey a curfew anyway, so the teachers don’t really check if everyone is observing everything,” he explains, “Hey, I can hold your bag for you, you know—” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“It looks heavy. It’ll hurt, and I don’t mind carrying it for you for a while. How many things are in there, actually—?” 

“... I do try to pack minimalistically. I don’t have many things in it. I don’t know why it does this.” 

“Let me hold it.” 

“...okay. Thank you. But next time, you don’t have to.” 

“I really don’t mind. It’s uh… like what you said. We take care of each other.” 

“I’m surprised you still remember that,” you note, chuckling, “In that case I should try to take care of you more.” 

“...you’re already doing more than enough.” 

“Hope I’m not being too much, then,” you joke, and your voice sounds a little too fond as you hear it exit your mouth, “I’ll start doubling down from now on.” 

A small part of you wants to indulge yourself; to imagine him doing this for you always. To feel the extent of the things he can do for you, and to want to do the same. 

You hand him the bag. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

You have a problem here. You’re in deep, aren’t you? 

The two of you had decided not to phone up anyone who could drive you there, nor were you able to take public transport from the school’s campus to your destination. In truth, you had no idea why it seemed that he and you were being secretive about it, but since you weren’t sure if whatever happened to Tsumiki was something Megumi wanted others to know yet, you obliged him. 

“Where are we headed to, actually?” 

“...the hospital.” 

“...what?” 

“...you’ll see. I’ll be able to explain once we get there.” 

It’s as if the expression on his face is written in a language you can’t understand. 

It only spurs your worry— what happened to Tsumiki? You’d wanted so badly to see her again and speak to her ever since she stopped all contact with you. The whole time you’d thought she was just busy, or that she would speak to you again soon, as if she were some constant who you couldn’t imagine being absent from your life due to sickness or injury. It hadn’t even occurred to you, that after you checked in on her and hadn’t even seen that she’d read those messages. To you she was a constant, and she’d always come back. You couldn’t imagine a life without her doing so. 

First your mother, and now Tsumiki. 

“The whole time I thought she just decided to… stop talking to me for a while.” 

“If anything was done to her, she would have told you, provided that she could. You weren’t an afterthought to her. She loved you. I… it was my fault, that after everything happened, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

She loved you?

“I still don’t know what happened. I mean, don’t blame yourself—” 

A car passes by and the two of you cross the road. His hand hovers near your back at the end of it, when the pedestrian traffic light goes red and the cars move rapidly behind you. You pretend his actions aren’t blowing up fireworks inside you. 

“No, you called me, right? You even tried to reach me, and… after all I did and how I acted… it wasn’t the right thing to do. But I chose not to call you.” 

You remember when you did, remember how it stung. 

He’s not the only one keeping secrets. You’ve got the letter and the years of yearning you want to let him know about. Yet it would feel like betrayal to yourself, even with the guilt you have from always keeping them. You’re not sure if that guilt is for him or you. 

“But you apologised for all of that, and, well— I think I’m mostly fine with it now. It was just… circumstance, I guess. Especially because it was Tsumiki. Not sure what happened to her, but I mean… if it was just what was happening at that time, even if it may frustrate me, I just have to accept it,”  you explain yourself, speaking from your chest. 

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.” 

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway,  things are different now, too.” You’ve got more control over your technique, fine-tuned it with practice and determination. You may still be weak at times: you may struggle to heal severe injuries or may get a nosebleed when you’ve pushed yourself too far and tried to heal bruises on four hours of sleep, but you’ve improved.

“No— I’ve hidden it for so long, I don’t know—” 

“I mean, look, we all have our secrets. Sometimes we have them even if we don’t want or have to. You don’t have to be privy to all of myself, especially what I try to keep hidden, but if both of us ever want to… we can always take one step at a time, and I think we’re doing that quite well, in my opinion. Besides, you’re here now. And now that we’re both on campus it’s going to be even harder to get away from me.” 

He stops in his tracks all of a sudden. You do, too. The words come floundering out of his mouth. “[Name]... I don’t know the… ‘right’ way to say this, but I don’t want to get away from you.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, I never did.” 

“Huh.” 

He hums.

“…me neither,” you coax out of yourself. 

“...there’s a floral shop nearby. I usually get her some flowers.”  

It’s time to get your mother some flowers, too. 

The florist there greets the two of you with a wistful smile, and says that she hasn’t seen Megumi in a while. Megumi introduces you as a childhood friend. 

“What do you usually get?” you ask. 

“Lilies, usually. Carnations and daisies, sometimes, too.” 

You’ve only bought flowers to pay respects to the deceased, at least when it was you buying them and not Yuuji. You’d never met your grandfather, but back when your parents still called you their little girl, your father would bring you to the temple where his ashes were kept every year. You’d see that photo of his face, smiling in black and white, next to your grandmother on their wedding day, and you’d notice how your father prayed before it. He’d replace the flowers— carnations, lilies, daisies, and tell you all the anecdotes he had with his father growing up. You’d gaze at the chrysanthemums and carnations with their honey-hued petals, at the lilies and daisies in their clear glass vases, and you’d think of how pretty they were. You think your grandfather would have liked them, his smile a spitting image of your father’s and a spitting image of yours. 

“Those are her favourite, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They suit her. It’s a perfect match, because— well, to me, I always thought of parts of her as different things. Her kindness and the joy she shared with other people were cherries. Her hair was brown, so I’d think of chestnuts and that reminded me of Christmas with her, or mont blanc desserts. And her smile was like a flower to me, a bouquet of lilies. At first I only thought that it was because she was pretty and one of the sweetest people I knew, but now it’s more than that— wait, sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, no— it’s okay,” he replies, almost immediately. 

“I’m just excited, is all.” 

He sighs, though you don’t know why. “Then you’ll want to scream at me,” he begins, “…I’m sorry. You’re excited and I just… I’m sorry. You’ll understand when we’re there.” 

You want to hold him. Tell him that it’s okay. Tell him that no matter what, you could never hate him. That you’d never had the power to, ever since you met him on that spring day. 

He chooses one bouquet on display, then heads over to the cashier. You don’t think you’ll be able to hold him at all, today. Or he won’t let you, his walls barring you from him, even when you thought many of them were already gone. You’d been so stupid, thinking the two of you were getting closer, but there was still so much more you had to learn about him now. There was still so much more you had to wait for, until he was willing to take them down. 

“Have you known her for a long time?” you ask, exiting the shop. He bought two— one from him and one from you. 

“Ever since Tsumiki got admitted.” 

“I can pay you back for the bouquets, by the way,” you suggest. 

“It’s fine.” 

“Gojo’s money?” 

“Gojo’s money.” 

You snicker. 

To be honest,  it’s a little difficult walking with him now. The two of you are devoid of any communication whatsoever, a silence calm in the night and early morning yet thickly unbearable once the sun has risen. Before this, you’d been timidly tiptoeing between small talk and deep conversations. Yet now, with the mood of Tsumiki’s incident looming over the air like a ghostly whisper, there’s nothing to talk about, really, as much as you’d like for there to be. 

You’d once heard that people who fell in love were able to talk each others’ ears off for hours on end. You could do that with Yuuji. But Megumi has always been different— in your life, at least. He’s not as boisterous, and not as agreeable with most people despite his politeness, but it’s always been a pleasure being silent with him. Sitting in silence. Lying on the bed together. There’s no spark before you, just the tranquility of an ocean at midnight. In the darkness, with shadows. 

He’s special. Now you can see that, now more clearly than ever before. 

And even now— even when things are awkward and jittery, you find you don’t mind this that much at all.  You don’t think you mind anything if you’re doing it with him. 

So there are no words between you, and you glance at his face, at the frown that contorts his face so softly and gently. 

If you held hands now, it would be pleasant. 

If you held hands now, your hands would inch closer to his as shyly as the first hints of spring arrive after winter. Your wrist would reach his, fingers aching for others to interlock with. Then they would slowly graze his palm like a lost man navigating through the wilderness, until you slid your fingers up his arm again. You would keep them on his wrist, at the outline of his veins, and perhaps if you pressed on it hard enough and used the same mental imaging you do for your cursed technique, you would be able to watch as blood flowed through his arteries and veins. You’ve held his wrist before anyway, grabbed it and pulled him along while his hand would slacken a little. At that time you did it almost abrasively. 

Maybe he would flinch. And maybe you would pull your hand back. 

But then before you realise it he would be tugging on your fingers again, palm against yours, finger to finger. You can even feel it as you think of it now— you would nearly melt in the grooves of his palm, the texture of his skin, and your hand would dance around his a bit until both of your hands wrapped around each other, a snug fit.

“[Name].” 

Your breath seems to fall short as you’re pulled from your fantasies. “What?” you ask, your face hot like a pan sizzling with melted butter. 

“Are you okay? It’s time to cross the road.” 

“Yeah. Just… it’s just… Tsumiki.” 

His hand is on your wrist. 

“Okay.” 

And if your hand slides down to his palm, and you squeeze his hand before he squeezes yours back despite not looking at you at that moment, well— 

You’ve done this before, and several times. But yo know why it’s different now. 

The sun has risen. There’s a certain pallor on Tsumiki’s face that you’ve never seen before. Under the early morning light it’s as if sunlight is seeping through her like light refracted in water. Her face is torn between peace and a grimace, as if she’s suspended precariously between a dream and a nightmare. A glaring red mark burns into her forehead like carved wood in patterns completely alien to you. There’s no lively ponytail bursting from her head, only the sordid scene of strands of chestnut hair gone flattened and lifeless, her once bright pink lips turned desiccated and pale; the sight of her grinning face from before only slipping through your fingers like powdery heaps of dust. She’s drawn out on the mattress resembling a fawn carcass in a documentary: too young and innocent to be like this, shallowly breathing in the torpid air. Comatose. The sight juts through your heart. 

This is different from grief. It feels like suffocation, like heaviness in the air. Your breaths are shallow as you take the clear glass vase, fill it with water and replace the previous lilies with new ones. There is no grief because nothing has been lost, only suspended. Locked in a standstill, for a little while. 

“We think it was a curse,” Megumi chokes. 

“How can you cure her?” 

“There’s no known cure since it was made from cursed energy. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.” 

“How long…?” 

“Since junior high. A while after you left.” Megumi confesses, “I’m sorry if you’re angry that I should’ve told you sooner,” his voice is strained and soft, a little bit from cutting himself off, “I’m sorry.” 

How many times had you thought of seeing her? How many times had you wondered why he’d never call and let you know how she was? Would she survive this, or would you have to wait a hundred times more just to see her again?

He knew all of this. He could have told you. 

Don’t be unreasonable, you think. Just focus on what you can do next. 

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh, “It’s just that after everything…” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I just wish I could’ve known. Then this whole time that I spent waiting—” 

“I know,” he goes, begging you to be angry. To hate him, as if anything he’s done to you could be the cause of something so great. 

You can cure people. You were placed on this world, born with powers to make or break life’s structures and processes, to cure people. With powers like that you’ve been hunted, sought after, protected— and yet now, when you need to heal this wound of hers, there’s nothing you can do. 

It makes you feel so useless it shakes you to the core. 

“I don’t know if I can do anything,” you start, half-resolute and half-doubtful. But despite your doubt you know that this is what it’s all about; what you’ve pledged yourself to do— to try your best and be useful. Like walking on a tightrope: you’ll have to march forward in the face of all of this and just force yourself not to look down, because this is all it’s ever been. Maybe, you think for a second, everything in your life has led to this moment. “But can I try?” 

“…of course. If anyone could do it, it would be you,” he remarks, voice softening with each syllable. 

“…thanks.” 

He’s very… tender today. Vulnerable. You suppose it’s because of Tsumiki and refrain from commenting on it.

You focus all your energy into her forehead and her brain, trying your best to somehow work against an obscure charm with an even more abstruse molecular structure. 

You can feel it— the strain on your consciousness, how it hurts to even think at some point, but ignore it all and try your best to help her. 

Be useful. If you don’t make it work now, her health is going to be up in the air for longer. If you don’t make it work now, you won’t know if you’ll be able to speak to her again, to thank her for everything— for teaching you to be kind and loving, for caring for you and appreciating parts of you when you’d never felt it before, for her cherry hair tie and her bright smile and her endless wisdom and— 

[Name]? 

If you don’t make it work now, how many more months will she have to spend without smiling through life and sharing her love with others? 

You want to scream at Megumi sometimes, actually. 

[Name]!

If you don’t make it work now, how much time of her life would be wasted in the end, when she had so much potential to change the world and shine her light on others? 

…he could have just told you from the start! 

You have to focus. If he told you this at the start, would that have changed anything? 

Be useful. 

[Name]! 

You have to make it work. You have to bring Tsumiki back. 

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[aspenmissing]

Hello!! Would u be able to write the arcane characters with a partner with short-term memory loss and them being patient with them? Thanks in advance!! 🤗

ᴜɴꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ || 5167 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ-ᴛᴇʀᴍ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ʟᴏꜱꜱ (ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ). ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀɴᴏɴ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ

JAYCE

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow over the bedroom. The air was still, save for the soft rustling of sheets as Jayce stirred awake. His body moved on instinct, his arm reaching out across the bed for the familiar warmth of Y/N beside him. But instead of feeling her nestled against him, he found only cold sheets.

Jayce blinked away the sleep, his heart giving a small but familiar pang of worry as he turned his head to look at her. She was already sitting up, legs tucked beneath her, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. Her gaze was distant, unfocused, her breathing shallow. Even before she spoke, Jayce knew. He had seen this before.

He sat up slowly, careful not to startle her. "Good morning, sweetheart," he said softly, voice warm and steady.

Y/N tensed at the sound, her body going rigid. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes searching his with a distant, unfocused gaze.

"Who… are you?" Her voice was quiet, uncertain, as if the words themselves felt foreign on her tongue.

Jayce felt the breath leave his lungs. His smile faltered, the ache in his chest twisting into something deeper, something unbearable.

"It's me," he said, almost a whisper. "Jayce."

But there was no recognition in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at the sheets, gripping them as if they were the only thing anchoring her to reality. She inhaled sharply, her frustration evident. "I... I don't remember." Her voice wavered, breaking at the edges. "I'm sorry."

Jayce reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "You don’t have to apologise, love. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here."

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes scanning his face, searching for something familiar. Jayce had gotten used to this—waking up to the same heartbreak, the same fragile moment where she tried to piece together who he was, who they were. It never got easier. But he had never once wavered.

"Do you trust me?" he asked gently, his thumb tracing slow circles over the back of her hand.

She hesitated. Then, after a moment, she nodded. "I... I think so."

A soft chuckle left his lips. "That’s a start." He leaned forward, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of her hand before reluctantly letting go. He stood up, walking to the bedside table where a small, well-worn leather journal sat waiting. He had made sure it was always within reach. Just in case.

He returned to her side, handing it to her carefully. "This is yours. You write in it every night before bed."

Y/N took the journal hesitantly, running her fingers over the soft, worn leather. She opened it, flipping through the pages filled with words in her own handwriting. Little notes, memories, moments she had tried to preserve for herself. And at the top of the very first page, written in bold, unwavering letters:

"Jayce loves you. And you love him."

Her breath hitched. Her fingers ghosted over the ink, as if tracing the letters would somehow make them feel real, tangible.

"I wrote this?" she asked, her voice small.

Jayce nodded. "You did."

She swallowed, her grip on the journal tightening. "I... I want to remember."

Jayce exhaled softly, his heart aching at the longing in her voice. He reached out, cupping her cheek with gentle fingers, brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face.

"Then we'll make new memories," he whispered. "Every day. As many times as you need."

Y/N leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment as if savouring the warmth of his hand. "You must be tired of this." The words were barely above a whisper, fragile and laced with guilt. "Of me."

Jayce's brows drew together, and his hold on her face grew firmer—not in restraint, but in reassurance. "Never," he said, the word carrying all the weight of his love for her. "I love you, Y/N. Even if you forget a thousand times, I’ll remind you a thousand and one."

A small, watery smile trembled on her lips. "You're really patient."

He let out a soft chuckle, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Only for you."

She rested her forehead against his chest, inhaling deeply as his arms wrapped around her, holding her as if he could physically keep her memories safe.

And as the morning sun bathed them in light, Jayce made a silent promise—to remind her, to love her, to never give up on her, no matter how many times he had to start again.

VIKTOR

Viktor sat at his workbench, the soft glow of the hextech crystal casting a gentle, flickering light over the room. The air smelled faintly of oil and parchment, the familiar scent of ink mixing with the faint metallic tang of machinery. His hands moved with practiced ease, sketching new designs across a weathered notebook, but his mind was elsewhere—on her.

He heard the familiar sound of hesitant footsteps padding cautiously into the workshop, slow and uncertain. His heart ached in anticipation, though he kept his expression warm and welcoming as he turned in his chair, his golden-brown eyes softening the moment they landed on her.

"Ah, good evening, my dear," he greeted, his voice laced with gentle affection.

Y/N stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim hallway beyond. She hesitated, her fingers brushing against the wooden frame as if she were trying to ground herself. Her eyes, wide with confusion, flickered around the room, searching for something familiar.

“I—I don’t know where I am,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know if I should be here.”

Viktor inhaled softly, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he set down his pen. He shifted, gripping his cane before pushing himself up to stand with practiced care. There was no frustration in his gaze, no flicker of impatience—only boundless patience and unwavering devotion.

"You are exactly where you are meant to be," he assured her gently. "You are home, Y/N. With me."

She blinked at him, her brows knitting together in thought. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came. She studied his face, tracing his features with uncertainty, as if searching for something hidden just beyond the reach of her memory.

“Do I… know you?” she finally asked, her voice so fragile it made Viktor’s chest tighten.

The words were a dagger to his heart, but he bore them with the quiet grace of a man who had learned to endure this pain a thousand times before. It would be easy to despair, to crumble beneath the weight of losing her over and over again—but he never would. Not when she was still here, still breathing, still standing before him with a flicker of recognition buried deep within her eyes.

But he loved her. And love, he believed, was not just in memories—it was in moments. In the way her hand felt in his, in the sound of her voice, in the quiet evenings spent together, even if she did not always remember them.

“You do,” he said softly. “But it is alright if you do not remember yet. We have time.”

Her hesitation lingered, but when he reached out, she let him take her hands in his. They were familiar, warm, and despite the veil of uncertainty clouding her mind, she did not pull away.

She looked down at their intertwined fingers, running her thumb along his knuckles as if trying to understand why this touch felt so right.

“What’s your name?” she asked, her gaze flicking back to his, searching for an answer.

"Viktor," he murmured, giving her fingers a light squeeze. "I am your Viktor."

A flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—passed through her eyes, and for the briefest moment, she smiled. It was small, tentative, but it was enough to make Viktor’s breath catch in his throat.

"I think I like that name," she whispered, as if the words were a secret meant only for him.

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his grip on her hands tightened just slightly, grounding himself in the moment. “That is good to hear. You tell me so every time.”

She blinked, tilting her head. “I do?”

He nodded, a quiet hum of amusement escaping his lips. “Yes. And then you always let me hold you like this.” He carefully guided her hands to rest against his chest, just over the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat. “And sometimes, if I am lucky, you let me kiss you, too.”

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, the colour blooming softly against her skin. Despite the uncertainty still lingering in her gaze, she let out a quiet laugh—light and airy, a sound Viktor wished he could bottle and keep forever.

“I think… I think I like that, too.”

His heart ached, full and heavy with love as he leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to her forehead. He lingered there, his lips against her skin, letting the warmth of the moment sink into his very being.

Carefully shifting his weight onto his cane, he whispered, "Then, perhaps, we should fall in love all over again."

And so, they did. Every single day.

JAYVIK

The marketplace in Piltover bustled with life, the air filled with the scent of fresh bread, spiced tea, and the occasional hint of metalwork from the nearby forges. Merchants called out their wares, bartering voices rising above the murmur of the crowd. The streets were alive with a tapestry of colours—vivid fabrics draped over wooden stalls, glistening jewels reflecting the golden light of the afternoon sun, and baskets of fresh produce adding splashes of green and orange to the scene.

Y/N had been out with Viktor and Jayce, the three of them enjoying a rare break from their work, wandering through the stalls, taking in the sights and sounds, indulging in the simple pleasure of being together. It was a fleeting escape from the pressures of Piltover’s politics and technology, a moment where they could simply be. Jayce had been enthusiastically explaining a new hextech prototype, gesturing animatedly while Viktor listened with an amused yet interested expression, always ready to ground Jayce’s ambitions in practicality.

But in the flurry of movement, she had wandered off.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not that she could remember. One moment, she had been holding Viktor’s hand, listening to Jayce ramble about some new hextech idea he was excited about. And the next, she was standing in a completely different part of the market, arms full of random goods. A roll of fabric, a small pouch of herbs, a beautifully carved wooden figurine of a Vastaya, and even a loaf of bread. The weight of them in her hands felt unfamiliar, as though they had simply appeared there without her noticing.

She blinked down at the assortment, confusion bubbling in her chest. When had she picked these up? Had she paid for them? Did someone give them to her? The thought sent a ripple of anxiety through her—what if she had taken them without realising?

A voice, warm but laced with concern, cut through the fog.

“There you are!” Jayce sighed in relief as he jogged up to her, his broad shoulders slightly tense from the worry that had clearly been eating at him. Viktor was only a step behind, leaning slightly on his cane, his golden eyes sweeping over her with the same concern Jayce wore openly.

“Where did you go, dove?” Viktor asked softly, his voice steady and soothing, searching her face for any sign of distress.

Y/N looked between them, her expression blank before morphing into something puzzled. “I… I don’t know.” She furrowed her brows, looking down at the items in her arms as if they might offer an explanation. “I don’t remember where I got these.”

Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance, the familiar ache of worry settling between them. They had learned to navigate these moments with her, moments where time slipped through her fingers like sand, where memories faded as quickly as they were made. It hurt, but they never let her see that. They had promised to be patient, to guide her back whenever she lost herself, to anchor her in their presence.

Instead, Jayce offered her his easy smile, reaching out to steady the bundle in her arms. “Well, that’s quite the collection you’ve got there. Mind if we retrace your steps and figure it out?”

Y/N bit her lip, nodding hesitantly. “I… I didn’t steal, did I?” The fear in her voice was small but present, and it made Viktor’s heart ache. The idea of her feeling lost, unsure of her own actions, tore at him in ways he couldn’t put into words.

“No, Lásko,” Viktor reassured her immediately, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow, reassuring circles against the fabric of her sleeve. “We’ll sort it out, don’t worry.” (Love)

Jayce, ever the optimist, gave her a wink. “If anything, you might have just been too charming, and people couldn’t help but give you things.”

That made her smile, if only a little. The tension in her shoulders eased, and Viktor reached for her free hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, grounding her in something solid. Jayce did the same on her other side, his grip warm and steady, always there to catch her when she faltered.

Together, they walked back through the marketplace, patient, understanding. They stopped at a fabric stall where the vendor instantly recognised Y/N, smiling warmly and assuring her that she had paid. At the herbalist’s stand, the elderly shopkeeper chuckled, recalling how Y/N had been fascinated by a rare herb she hadn’t seen before. Each stop helped piece the mystery together, each kind word and understanding smile from the merchants easing the anxiety that had settled in her chest.

It wasn’t always easy, but neither of them would ever dream of leaving her lost—not when she was their home, memory or not. And as they walked, hands linked, Y/N found comfort in knowing that no matter how much she forgot, they would always remember for her.

VANDER

The Last Drop was bustling, the scent of ale and smoke hanging thick in the air. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Vander stood behind the bar, wiping down a mug as he cast a concerned glance towards Y/N. She was seated at one of the tables, fingers idly tracing the wood grain. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her lips pursed as if she was trying to recall something just out of reach.

He sighed, setting the mug down with a quiet clink. "Alright, love, we need a few things from the market," he said, walking over to her. He pulled out a chair and sat beside her, his large hand covering hers in a comforting gesture. "You up for it?"

Y/N blinked, looking up at him. Her eyes held a flicker of uncertainty before she nodded. "Of course. What do we need?" she asked, voice light but hesitant.

Vander smiled, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. "I've made a list," he reassured her, reaching into his pocket. "And you're not going alone this time."

Y/N frowned. "Why not?"

Vi, standing nearby with her arms crossed, snorted. "Because last time, you forgot everything, and we ended up with three loaves of bread and no ale."

Claggor chuckled, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. "Yeah, and you told the vendor you needed... what was it? Oh right, 'that thing Vander wanted'—which could mean anything."

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip. "Oh. Right."

Vander chuckled, his calloused fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It’s alright, sweetheart. That’s why I’m sending you with Powder. And she's got the list."

He gestured towards Powder, who was holding a folded piece of parchment like it was the most important thing in the world. Her small fingers gripped it tightly, her blue eyes sparkling with determination. "I got it! I won’t let her forget a thing!" she chirped, bouncing on her heels.

Y/N gave a soft smile, ruffling Powder’s hair. "Alright, alright. Let’s do this then."

=

As they left The Last Drop, the streets of the Undercity greeted them with a familiar mix of noise and movement. Powder held Y/N’s hand tightly, occasionally glancing up at her. "You feeling okay today?" she asked gently.

Y/N squeezed her hand in return, offering a small but appreciative smile. "I think so. Just... my mind feels a little foggy. Like I know what I’m supposed to do, but it keeps slipping away."

"That’s okay!" Powder said brightly. "That’s why I’ve got the list. Vander thought of everything. We’ll get everything and be back in no time!"

=

They made their way through the market, the air filled with the shouts of vendors calling out their wares and the scent of fresh bread mingling with the oil and grime of the Undercity. Powder kept a steady stream of conversation to keep Y/N focused, pointing out interesting trinkets or people she recognised. Each time they bought something, Powder carefully checked it off the list with a piece of charcoal she had found in her pocket.

"Alright, next is—" Powder paused, then frowned. "Wait, where did the list go?"

Y/N blinked, looking around, her heart skipping a beat. "Didn’t you just have it?"

Powder frantically checked her pockets, patting herself down as if the list might materialise out of thin air. "I did! I swear!"

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. "It’s alright. We’ll figure it out. Let’s retrace our steps."

=

They went back to each stall they had stopped at, Powder chattering as she tried to remember where she might have dropped it. "I had it right here!" she insisted, patting her pockets frantically. "It couldn’t have just vanished!"

Y/N watched her for a moment before something clicked. She reached out and tugged at the edge of Powder’s sleeve. "Powder… what’s this?"

Powder blinked as Y/N pulled the missing parchment free. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No way! I put it in my sleeve?!"

Y/N burst into laughter, doubling over as she held up the list. "Looks like it’s not just me who forgets things!"

=

By the time they returned to The Last Drop, Powder was carrying a bag nearly twice her size, her small frame nearly swallowed by the bulk of their purchases. Y/N was still giggling, shaking her head at the whole situation as she held up the list triumphantly.

Vander smirked, leaning against the bar with his arms crossed. "And here I was worried."

Vi rolled her eyes, flicking Powder on the forehead playfully. "You should've been. Turns out it's a family trait."

Y/N chuckled, setting the goods down on the counter. "At least we got everything, right?"

Powder huffed dramatically, plopping onto a stool with a tired sigh. "Barely. But we did!"

Vander pulled Y/N into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around her securely. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering just a little longer this time. "You did good, love."

She melted into his touch, her fingers curling into his shirt as she exhaled softly. "Couldn’t have done it without Powder."

"And the list!" Powder added proudly, holding up the crumpled piece of parchment like a trophy.

Vander chuckled, his voice full of warmth. "And next time, maybe we write two of them—just in case."

SILCO

The low hum of the Undercity seeped into the walls of Silco’s office, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the cracks. His space was dim, lit only by the harsh glow of a single lamp that cast long, stark shadows across the room. The scent of old books, tobacco, and leather lingered in the air, a mixture that felt almost familiar to Y/N. Still, even in the comfort of this space, the world outside her mind felt distant—blurred like an image through fog.

She sat across from Silco, the heavy chair creaking under her as she fiddled with the edge of the glass on the desk in front of her. The intricate patterns of the wood seemed to shift in her gaze, like the shifting of memories she couldn’t quite catch.

Silco sat, as always, calm, his posture imposing yet somehow at ease. His sharp eyes flickered to her, and for a moment, she could feel his steady gaze anchoring her—reminding her that she wasn’t as lost as she sometimes felt.

She hesitated before speaking, her voice quiet. “I… I think you’ve told me this story before,” she said, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, the motion almost like a reflex. “But I can’t remember the ending.”

A flicker of amusement played across Silco’s lips, but his expression remained steady. There was no irritation in his eyes—only understanding. “I have told you,” he replied, his voice deep and smooth, as if each word was deliberate, calming. “But I don’t mind telling it again. Perhaps it will stick this time.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her gaze drifting to the flickering candle on the desk. “I don’t know how you can be so patient with me,” she said, her voice carrying a trace of self-consciousness. “It must get exhausting repeating yourself all the time.”

Silco’s eyes softened as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the surface of his desk. “It doesn’t exhaust me,” he replied, his tone unwavering, yet there was a quiet warmth to it. “I find the repetition comforting. It’s you. And you… you are worth every second.”

Her gaze flickered up to meet his, and something in her chest tightened. There was a tenderness in his words that wasn’t often displayed, a rare softness that only she seemed to evoke. She took a slow breath, trying to steady herself. “But what if I forget again? What if one day… I don’t even remember you?”

Silco’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, but his voice remained steady, unwavering. “Even then, Y/N,” he said, his gaze locking with hers, “I would still be here. I would wait for you to remember, or for you to find your way back to me. Whatever it took.”

The vulnerability in her chest pulled tighter. She had become accustomed to forgetting pieces of herself, of her world. But hearing him speak like this, with such confidence, with such certainty… it did something to her. It made her want to believe, to trust in the idea that not everything could slip away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice small, fragile. She immediately regretted it. Sorry for forgetting, for not being the person she once was. Sorry for the uncertainty she brought into every conversation.

Silco leaned forward slightly, his gaze unwavering, his eyes piercing into hers. “There is nothing to apologise for,” he said, his voice a quiet strength. “Not with me. You never need to apologise for forgetting, Y/N. Not with me.”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. His sharp features, his cold, calculated exterior—none of it mattered in these moments. The softness in his eyes, the gentleness in his voice, was all she needed to see.

“But… I do forget things,” she said, a small, almost helpless laugh escaping her lips. “Little things, big things, important things.”

Silco’s expression softened even further, and for a long moment, he said nothing. He just looked at her, his gaze never leaving hers, as if to say everything with a silent understanding.

"Then I’ll remind you," he said simply, leaning forward and reaching out to gently take her hand in his. "And I will never stop."

Y/N’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking into her like an anchor. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling his warmth seep through her fingers. In that touch, she felt the steady beat of something real, something that even the fog of her memory couldn’t quite erase.

She opened her eyes and met his gaze again, the vulnerability still there but softened by the unwavering certainty in his eyes. "What if I forget everything?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Silco’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand, a slow, deliberate motion that felt like a promise in itself. “Then we’ll build new memories together. Ones you won’t forget.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with warmth, a swell of emotion she couldn’t quite articulate. "You really mean that, don’t you?" she asked, her voice small but steady, searching for the reassurance that she hadn’t been abandoned in the pieces of herself that were slipping away.

"I do," Silco replied, his voice firm but tender. "And I will be here, Y/N. Every day. For as long as it takes."

She smiled softly, a sense of peace settling in her chest. In the silence that followed, there was no pressure, no rush. Just the two of them in the moment, and for once, that was enough.

Time passed slowly, but with Silco by her side, Y/N didn’t feel so lost anymore. Even if the memories she cherished slipped away, there was something timeless between them—a bond that not even time itself could erase. And that, more than anything, was enough for her.

JINX/POWDER

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of paper turning. Y/N sat on the worn couch, holding a cup of tea in her hands, her eyes gliding over the pages in front of her. Jinx, sitting cross-legged on the floor, watched her with a quiet intensity, her usual wild energy subdued in the face of the delicate task she had undertaken.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she flipped another page of the scrapbook. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she had learned that patience would be her guide. The short-term memory loss was something new, and it came in waves—some days, she could remember everything, and others... it was as if entire chunks of her life had simply faded away.

"Do you... do you remember this one?" Jinx’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Her usual mischievous spark was replaced by something deeper, a tender concern that radiated from her like warmth.

Y/N looked at the page, her fingers brushing over the photo of the two of them, laughing in the sunlight, her hair tied in the long plait that Jinx loved to twirl. For a moment, she felt a tug of recognition, but then it slipped away, the feeling fading like water through her fingers.

"I... I don’t," Y/N murmured, a frown tugging at her lips. "But it’s nice, isn’t it? We look happy."

"Yeah, you and me, like we always are," Jinx replied, her voice uncharacteristically soft. There was no teasing, no sarcasm—only a raw, quiet warmth that seemed to anchor the space between them. "It’s okay, though. It’s just... memory stuff, right? You’ll get it back. You always do."

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to find comfort in Jinx’s words. She could see how hard the other girl was trying to stay patient. She had always been the one to keep things light, to crack jokes and stir trouble, but now, she was more still, more grounded. The change was subtle, but it was there.

Her eyes flicked to the next page, and there, to her surprise, was a picture of Jinx with her younger self, a wild, chaotic expression on her face. The photo caught a side of Jinx Y/N had never seen, one of the many layers she had peeled back over the years, revealing her deeper vulnerabilities.

"Is this... you?" Y/N asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and worry. She didn’t want to upset Jinx by forgetting important things, especially those that were tied so closely to the girl’s heart.

Jinx tilted her head, her lips curling into a small, bittersweet smile. "Yep, that’s me. Before, you know... things got a little... complicated." Her tone wavered, the weight of unspoken memories hanging in the air.

Y/N’s gaze softened as she studied the picture. "I see. So, you’ve always had that spark, huh?"

"Yup, always." Jinx’s eyes twinkled, her smile spreading wider. "I was a little more... explode-y back then, though." She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, the connection between them flickering to life despite the gap in memory. "I bet. You’ve always had a way with things. Explosions, pranks... and me, apparently."

Jinx gave a little shrug, but the affection in her eyes was unmistakable. "Well, I’ve got to take care of my bestie, right?"

"You always do," Y/N whispered, her heart swelling with the familiar warmth of maternal affection. "You always do."

Jinx’s fingers continued to turn the pages, and Y/N watched her with a quiet gaze as the girl shared more of the scrapbook. There were photos, trinkets, scraps of paper—all carefully placed to help jog Y/N’s memory of the times they’d shared, the moments they had cherished. It was as if Jinx had poured herself into every page, filling the gaps that Y/N couldn’t quite grasp.

=

After a while, Y/N turned to the last page, where a series of sketches Jinx had drawn herself filled the space—images of them together, sitting on the roof of a building, running through the streets, laughing and wild, their bond unspoken but palpable.

"These... these are from you?" Y/N asked quietly, her fingers tracing the outlines of the drawings. "You made these for me?"

Jinx, who usually radiated an untamed energy, seemed to shrink a little. Her usual cocky grin softened, replaced with something vulnerable. "Yeah. I... I wanted to make sure you'd always remember. Even if I gotta keep doing this for a while."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, her heart squeezing. Jinx had always been unpredictable, a whirlwind of emotions and impulsive decisions, but this... this was something different. This was care. This was love. Jinx had become her child, in a way—a chaotic, beautiful, complicated child who needed protection and care as much as she needed to be free.

"I’ll remember, Jinx," Y/N said, her voice steady despite the fluttering uncertainty. "Even if it takes time, I will. And I’ll be right here with you. Always."

Jinx’s smile softened, her eyes welling with gratitude, a flicker of that old wild spark returning in the depth of her gaze. "I know, Y/N. I know."

And for the first time in a while, Y/N felt like maybe, just maybe, she’d remember everything important—and, if not, she’d always have Jinx, her fiercely loyal, loving daughter in her own way, right there with her.

[luinhealthcare]

Does Hyrule mind teaching how to assess a patient??👉👈

"You... want to learn how to assess patients?" Hyrule asked hesitantly.

Wild shrugged. "What if I want to be an EMT?"

"You also said you wanted to be a chef in the hospital."

"I can do both, you know."

Hyrule laughed. "I suppose so. Well... we'll need a patient for this to work."

Wild immediately snatched Sky, who yelped as his friend snaked a hand around his wrist. "Sky's the patient, heaven knows he needs to be looked over anyway."

"Look who's talking, Mr. I-Have-Seizures-and-Don't-Tell-Anybody," Sky grumbled as he was manhandled to sit between the other two.

"Well, everyone knows now."

Hyrule and Sky gave Wild a scalding look. Adequately apologetic, Wild shrugged sheepishly.

"Anyway," Hyrule sighed, shifting his focus to Sky. "Assessments come in different forms. You've got a primary and a secondary assessment. Primary is kind of a general overview and checking for life threatening stuff, secondary is in-depth on what the issue actually is. Make sense?"

Wild nodded.

"Great!" Hyrule continued with a smile. "Okay. Sky's our patient. Sky, you got shot once, right?"

Sky nodded, and Wild balked. "He what?!"

"It was a long time ago," Sky waved a dismissive hand.

"Okay, so that's our scenario," Hyrule said, standing. "We're dispatched for a 21-year-old male with a GSW--"

"That means gunshot wound, right?"

"Yeah. GSW, conscious patient. That's all we've got. So, you get on scene, and the very first thing you do is check for scene safety. If the scene isn't safe, we're not going in. First thing you're taught in EMS - your own safety comes first, because if you're shot you can't help the patient. It's you, your partner, then the patient."

"How often do you actually listen to that rule?" Sky asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That's not what we're learning today," Hyrule waved off easily. It was pretty common knowledge that while he would never put his partner's life at risk, he'd gotten himself into dicey situations before. But he knew how to get himself out of those situations too. "So, we determine the scene is safe. Next, is our primary assessment. The purpose of this assessment is to check for life threatening things, and an overview of major body systems. Neuro status, bleeding, and your ABCs: Airway, Breathing, Circulation.

"The situation is pretty dynamic, like sometimes you walk up and somebody's got an arterial bleed and spurting blood everywhere, your assessment stops right there and you go fix that bleed. But generally you'll have time to do the entire primary assessment."

"Okay, so neuro and ABCs?"

"Yeah. And the good thing is that most of it happens all at once, you know? You walk up to Sky and he looks at you, then boom, you've got a good neuro - he's awake, he's alert. He may not be oriented, but you can figure that out by just talking to him. And by this point you can tell if there's life threatening bleeding. Then it's ABCs - is his airway patent, or open? Is he breathing, and is he doing so normally? Is his skin warm, dry, and normal tone for him? You can literally do al these things by just walking into the room and looking at him for five seconds. The primary assessment is done really fast and, the more times you do it, basically automatically."

"What would be an example of something being wrong?" Wild askd.

Hyrule glanced at him. "When I got on scene for your crash, you were unconscious and unresponsive--in other words, you were not only unconscious, but nothing would wake you up--and your breathing was gurgling sounding because you had blood in your airway."

Glancing at Sky, Hyrule said, "Sky can give us an example of a not great primary assessment, I'm sure."

Helpfully, Sky immediately flopped off the chair he was sitting on, collapsing to the ground with a crash. Wild laughed, and footsteps rushed from upstairs into the living room.

Twilight immediately froze in the entranceway, eyes wide and fixed on Sky. "Sky, what the--guys what the hell is hap--"

Sky perked up immediately. "Oh, sorry! I'm just helping Hyrule teach Wild!"

Twilight froze a moment and then sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and grumbling under his breath.

Hyrule smiled, pointing at Twilight. "He just perfectly showed a good primary assessment looks like! He walked in and saw the patient down on the ground, tried to figure out a neuro by calling out to him, and when Sky woke up he immediately could tell he was fine. Neuro intact, not bleeding, had a patent airway because he's talking, breathing normally, and skin looks normal."

"I hate all of you," Twilight groaned, walking out of the room.

"Okay, but by skin looking normal... what does it mean when it doesn't?" Wild asked.

"Your skin can tell a story," Hyrule explained. "If you're diaphoretic, which means sweating, something is likely wrong. Though it depends on context - if your patient's sweaty but they were just exercising, it makes sense. If Sky's sweaty on the ground after being shot, he's in shock. If the skin is cool, the body isn't circulating well - that can sap the color right out of your skin - the lighter your skin tone the more notable it is, but darker skin tones can become paler too. A lot of times with darker skin tones you'll want to look at their palms or their lips, that'll help you determine it. Another color is grey - that usually means cardiac and it's bad. So skin can tell you a lot!"

"How did my skin look?" Wild questioned, curious.

"Pale," Hyrule immediately answered. "Anyway. Sky's your patient. Look him over."

"Okay," Wild blew out a breath, approaching Sky and kneeling beside him. "So he's unconscious, that's my neuro so far."

"Can you arouse him at all?"

Wild poked Sky in the neck. Sky flinched. Wild poked again and Sky giggled. Wild's eyes widened in realization, and a mischievous smile crossed his face.

"Wild, wait--"

Sky started laughing hysterically as his friend tickled him, wiggling and trying to shove him away.

"Get--off of m--Wild you jerk--"

Hyrule chuckled. "Well, we're not taught to tickle our patients, but that works."

[savage-rhi]

Magenta 😟

[unbearable-lightness-of-ink]

so anyway I really did start compiling a kinyarwanda/english dictionary/grammar guide out of all the random resources i've been hoarding on my phone (it doesn't have to be great, it just has to be better than searching multiple different files every time I'm looking for some obscure vocab or grammar detail) and one of these resources is some PDF uploaded to the internet archive and it's... not great. from the writing and contents it's clearly

old (my guess is mid-1900s. I don't remember colonial and post-colonial Rwandan history specifically enough to guess well here, but based on some of the typos, it was done on a typewriter and then scanned with OCR)

intended for missionaries (some examples of actual sentences in the "translate this" exercises include "I praise God because He saved me and He gave me peace and joy" and, I shit u not, "The blind man cannot see the Word of God, but he can hear and he can know the love of Jesus." it's. well for one thing this is basically useless vocabulary for me, and also it's cringe af)

written by someone who was not a linguist (at one point instead of just saying "if T is preceded by an unvoiced consonant, it turns into D" they give you a list of every unvoiced consonant and then recommend that you invent a mnemonic phrase to memorise the list?! why?)

written by someone who was shit with pronunciation (legit so many places where they're like "there's no way to describe how this sounds, you just have to ask someone to make the sound for you" my good bitch the phoneme might not be in english but I could describe it just fine. skill issue.)

but the thing that's really killing me about all this is that every time they try to explain tonal vowels or phonemes that aren't in english, they tell you to "ask an African to say it for you."

an. an what now? an African? babe there are approximately 1.5 billion people in Africa. Africa accounts for about 20% of the land on earth, it's the second-biggest continent, and it has an estimated two thousand living languages spoken throughout the continent.

and kinyarwanda? it has maybe 15-25 million native speakers, depending on which source I trust. it's spoken (almost*) exclusively in rwanda, which is the 9th smallest country in Africa--and that roundup includes islands off the coast of the continent. It has the second densest population in Africa but it still only has like 13 million people in it. and it's a very unique language. its closest relatives do not have the same phonemes that kinyarwanda has, and its closest relatives are also spoken by relatively few people. I don't know enough about kirundi to say much but I do know that it doesn't have the same vowel tones in all instances and it doesn't have some of the same consonant clusters. and the more widely spoken related languages that you're more likely to stumble on someone who knows how to speak? they're even worse for a reference; ask someone who speaks kiswahili to pronounce kinyarwanda for you and they will not pronounce the difference between, say, umuceri (rice) and umucyeri (berry), or the tonal difference between words like umusambi (floor mat) and umusambi (crested crane).

so, like. it's just absolutely sending me, this random white lady who was obviously a colonialist missionary, bothering to make a whole language guide to teach me how to proselytise in kinyarwanda, but along the way she's like "just ask an african--any african--how to say this" lady less than 1% of them are going to know this language but go off i guess

*almost because there's the diaspora of rwandan expats and immigrants in other countries plus the banyamulenge which is a whole aspect of it that has so much fraught history on all sides that I won't even try to say something intelligent about it, it's totally not my place/something i'm educated enough about, but to my knowledge most of them speak dialects that are more or less dissimilar to kinyarwanda; kinyamulenge and kinyabwisha are not the same as kinyarwanda. take it from my munyamulenge coworker who could never pronounce the difference between c and cy

[malboraslihan]

hello friends <3 it's been a while since i posted a plotting call / interest post so i finally sat down today and wrote (more like assembled) plots / threads ideas i've been wanting to do. if you're interested in any of those LIKE THIS POST and i'll send you a message. just an important observation: we don't need to actually plot out most of these (some require working out details but that's it), if you want to write that plot with me just tell me which one and which muse you're interested and i'll write you a starter! so yeah basically, if you like any of those: * like the post * tell me which plot and which muse you want me to use (or which muse you think would work from your end so i can figure out who to use!) * i'll write you that starter

some need to knows... ig?

please do not worry about "making it fair" or anything like that, most of these plots are for my males and they're actual muses i want to develop so don't feel pressured to only choose one or all that.

on that same note, do not ask for a plot with one my girls just because you want one from my men. i honestly prepfer you pick plots you actually want to do instead of doubling threads and shit like that.

i'm open to plotting! but if we're gonna do it, i'd prefer we do it on discord cause the tumblr ims are always glitching to me and i keep losing tracks of things. so, if you wanna talk about things AND I'D LOVE TO, just lmk and i'll message you / give you my discord as well. (also, if we rp on discord and you wanna write some of these there, i'm obvs open<3)

these plots do not all need to be f/m ! i'm very open to make most of them f/f and while i'm a little more selective with who i write m/m plots, i'm willing to work things out if you have an idea :)

the bianchi reign

you're dating the mob boss / you're his sister / daughter and i'm his second in command but i can't stay away from you and you quickly realize it and we're flirting but if anyone finds out i'm dead

i'm infiltrating your gang to try and destroy it but we started sleeping together and it turns out there's feelings now but i just got an order to murder / kidnap you so now what

we were never close, i always thought you were annoying and now you fucked up big time on a mission and my father who's your boss wants to kill you but i marry you to stop him (insp)

i faked my own death to protect you/stop people from killing me/save our people and now three years later i send you a text asking you to meet me and at first you think it's a joke but then you come anyway and hi i'm alive (for noah!!!)

“we got framed for a crime we didn’t commit so now we’re on the run and having to kill and steal to survive and avoid arrest and now we really are dangerous criminals” au (maybe the crime was actually a fuck up inside the gang so now they're wanted <3) (for lorenzo or hazel)

the hawthorne family

you're dating my brother but he's constantly leaving you alone during events or even family trips to kiss my dad's ass and try to maintain his job so i keep you company until we're both drunk one night and i let it slip that i would love to kiss you

a plot where he’s a little too old for her but she doesn’t care. he thinks she’s immature and too reckless with her behavior. but she’s hellbent on proving him otherwise. so she applies for the position of his new personal assistant and he can’t help but appreciate her determination. of course he hires her but he does nothing short of giving her a hard time because this is her first job and she has no idea what she’s doing. but crap he finds her crying in the bathroom and his first instinct is to hold her and comfort her. he can’t believe he’s the cause of this and wises up fast. also maybe it has to do with his now urge to protect her. (for arthur)

not another rockstar by maisie peters.. just that toxic good old fangirl x stupid rockstar dynamic (for jean/hunter)

“you read one of my thirst tweets on a talk show and now my thirst is a minor internet sensation, so thanks for that” au (for hunter, jean)

‘we had a one night stand a couple of weekends ago and i really didn’t think i’d ever see you again but wow, now i’m sitting in your office interviewing for a job but all i can think about is the incredible s3x we had’ (for adam or arthur)

rich kids

a poly relationship, could someone who is just as rich as them or someone who isn't and they're spoiling the fuck out of them... someone who worked for one of them before or a friend idk (mostly for gigi, hunter and sara) (insp)

since i’m on a sugar baby phase imagine a plot where a college student is absolutely pampered by annoymous guy. all he asks in return is to be remained mysterious, occasion nudes, and all the attention he craves. she’s all too willing to give it for the pretty penny he’s offering. but her birthday comes around and he surprises her with a trip to see her favorite singer / actor with vip access / meet & oh hold a second, how does he know my name ? (for jean or hunter / hae park (nicha yontararak fc) / angel)

someone give me a thread where this rich dude falls for the normal down to earth girl nd introduces her to his world full of private jets nd yachts nd all that stuff and yES PLEASE

acotar/royal

we're fighting in different sides of a war and when we meet during a negotiation we find out we're mated

stuck in a mission together and we've always hated each other but then it's freezing cold and we have only one bed in this shitty cabin we're staying for the night so we should cuddle

you are supposed to get married to make peace between our countries/courts but we hate each other and we're constantly bickering and fighting and i think you might have actually tried to kill me once or twice (insp)

harbor springs

a plot based on ‘tis the damn season…. small town, childhood friends, one stayed put and the other moved away for college… now comes back for the holidays ten years later… pls

based on stick season by noah kahan: we were best friend since day one, dated during high school and broke up because you left for college / pursue your dreams and i stayed behind but one day i get a notification from you that you liked a photo or you shared a by pic and i liked and we just go back to talking and we're getting close again until you invite me to spend summer with you wherever you are and i actually been saving up money to leave town so i go and when i see you again i know i'm definitely still in love with you (for videl, keegan, ivy, patrick, angel, rani)

sports themed

(the nationals + tobias + gregory)

based on the trade by ki stephens: the hockey team has a tradition of trading dates during the end of season dinner and i invite you and make my best friend invite your roommate cause i wanna get with her but we actually start getting close and i fall in love with you but at the night of the dinner one of the guy spills everything (for benny or gael)

based on the deal by elle kennedy: i'll pretend i'm your boyfriend if you agree to tutor me and of course we fall in love (for benny, keegan or dane)

based on icebreaker by hannah grace: you hate hockey players and you say that to my face after i make a move on you so now i have to prove you wrong (bonus points if she's a figure skater and he has to help her after her partner bails or smt) (bonus points if they share the same rink so they're always bickering about late practices and shit) (for benny, keegan or gael)

he left his hometown to play professional and ended up breaking up with high school sweetheart because the distance and the busy schedule was just too much but a few years later he's won the superbowl and he's miserable and he meets her at some random party in his new town and wait she's engaged to someone else (for tobias, greg, benny, keegan)

plot where muse a is a star athlete on a professional team, and they go to a bar/pub after a great victory, where they meet muse b - a very attractive, bitter stranger wearing a fan jersey from the rival team.

 a frat boy who’s like every normal frat boy. he drinks too much, he parties, and he sleeps with random girls but everything changes when he’s around the girl from back home. the girl that really matters to him. he doesn’t want to admit that he likes her a lot but, that’s what it comes down to when one of the guys in his frat house wants to hook up with her and she’s perfectly willing. (for benny or keegan)

horror plots

some spooky muses i made <3

muse a and muse b get stranded on a roadtrip and are offered a place to stay by a friendly looking local, only to find out they’re a serial killer looking to make them their next two victims. ( + bonus points if they’re exes who literally just broke up minutes before their car broke down??? the drama )

based on x, we're renting a farm house to film a college project / independent horror film / porn and one of our friends disappears on the first day and then our car disappears and now we don't know what to do cause there's no one around and the nearest stop was a forty minutes car drive away

i made you join a cult with me (recruited you / joined with you / made you join whatever) but now shit is happening and you're miserable and i can't bear to see you like this cause i actually grew too fond of you so i don't know what to do but i keep protecting you a little too much and people are going to realize at some point (for ubon or milo)

misc

popular girl x her best friend.. bonus points if the popular girl has a boyfriend or is constantly hooking up with different people (for ivy, giovana, madeline, rani)

church girl + unholy bf (for rani) and the opposite church boy + unholy gf (for jacob, videl)

lacy by olivia rodrigo: you're dating my ex boyfriend but i'm actually obsessed with you and not really sorry that i lost him. (bonus points if they're in the same friend group) (for giovana, madeline, anastasia, grace, hazal, saja)

i really want a plot based two weeks ago by maisie peters.. the whole vibe of being in love with someone and have it finally happen before they need to get on a plane and go somewhere else? really want to explore the long distance relationship situation with all the jealousy and missed calls, timezones that don’t match (for literally anyone.. but some that i could see this working with are: jacob, videl, benny thompson, gigi, rani, ivy, pinar)

i'm pretty sure my husband/boyfriend is cheating on me so i go out to do the same but i can't just sleep with a random but then i meet you, my long time friend and we end up talking and laughing until i kiss you and we hook up but now i'm trying to work things out with my husband/boyfriend but i can't stop thinking about you (insp) (for anastasia, fatma, grace, nari / arthur, finnley, keegan, tobias)

“your ex hired me to make you fall in love with me then break your heart but oops i think i fell in love and now i’m conflicted what the fuck is happening i’m supposed to hurt you ow what am i sUPPOSED TO DO” (for gigi, gael, theo hughes (kaden h fc))

he fucked up big time but he never forgot about her and was constantly trying to fix their relationship until at some point he gives up and that's when she finally texts back / shows up at his door (for jacob, patrick, videl, arthur / hazal, verda) insp

a nice, shy, nerdy boy who literally no one pays attention to asks the popular, outgoing, ray of sunshine out and she was so confused and didn’t think he meant it at first but she agrees anyway because she doesn’t want him to feel bad because she sees that he really tried so hard to ask her out? and maybe it didn’t work out so well at first but he tries again anyway? it doesn’t work a few times because of her schedule but he’s really sweet so she agrees to another more because it wouldn’t hurt and by the end of the date he works up the courage to ask if he could kiss her and she reluctantly says okay - and completely underestimates him but holy shit that wasn’t a chaste kiss? and before she knows it her clothes are on the floor and he’s fucking her like a whore but she’s so intO IT? (for sebastian aka my luke hemmings fc muse)

accidentally swapped phones with someone at a party and don’t realize until their mom calls in the morning and you spend like three hours talking to this hilarious woman about life and when you go to her house to return her kid’s phone wow the kid is the really good kisser from the party last night au (for maddie, videl, benny, aurora, tobias)

we dated in high school, i wrote a book about you five years later and now you’re at a fan event asking for an autograph.. (for the writer: maddie / for the ex: benny, benny hawthorne, tobias, videl)

“i’ve lost my memory and idk who you are but i just have this feeling that i’m supposed to trust you” (for arthur, videl, jacob)

“i’m in love with you and i just watched you get proposed to by your boyfriend right before my eyes and now i’m upset”  (for jacob, patrick, keegan)

before trilogy inspired: we were the only ones waiting for a train but it was delayed for twelve hours / our next flight connection is not until tomorrow and we just decide to walk around the city and we end up kissing, i like you too much and i don't wanna lose this but it's time to go and we make a pact to come back here next month but we never actually do for different reasons and then 3/5/10 years later we meet again somewhere else.. (for ivy, rani, hunter or saja)