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cutehoons02 · 8 months ago

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7 minutes in heaven or hell with your enemy?

pairing: Popular ice prince x Fem reader (Brother best friend)

tags: Smut, sport romance, fluffy, first experience for reader, enemies to lovers? (pet name)

synopsis: Sunghoon had only to follow a simple rule, not falling in love with his best friend’s little sister but you know when something you can’t have you do everything to have it in your hands.

The dense air full of smoke, rivers of alcohol flowing in the students' veins on campus, the artificial lights that contrasted with the dark environment, and the commercial music played by the deejay that filled the whole ballroom hit Y/n. His group of friends had just arrived at one of the most famous clubs in the city, Y/n and her friends were not regular customers in the clubs of the city but after spending almost 3 months on the books for the winter session of the exams they thought it was a good idea for an evening to drink and dance until the morning but Y/n did not know that In that same club, there was his worst enemy as well as his brother’s best friend.

And that on that night would have violated one of the main rules set among boys, never approach or touch with a finger the younger sister of your best friend, you could only touch or take care of her if she was found in a situation of danger; But Y/n that night would never find herself in a dangerous situation or maybe yes, the only threat was their emotions, feelings and the crackling chemistry between her and Sunghoon.

Kiss It Better of Rhianna rang all over the place, she knew there was always someone out there watching her because being Jake’s younger sister everyone on campus knew her, Jake was the rising star of the university football team but in recent months he had taken part in a sporting cultural exchange in England and played for a football team in Premier League so when Y/n saw that there was no longer his older brother to hound her on how to reject every boy from the university or how he had a say in any boy who interested him felt a little more daring to follow the most beautiful guys on campus in various social networks and not to refuse any advance that made any guy in his compared but had not made the accounts with a so-called group of his brother’s best friends who were all left in the homeland especially one had the control on with whom he could go out and control the sister of his best friend and the person in question was Sunghoon.

Sunghoon was Jake’s best friend since they started elementary school and Y/n always found him around the house in his first years playing Lego or swimming pool, when they became a little older they started playing football or making mischief with the little princess of the house and high school began to organize home parties Sim after the countless victories of the soccer leagues and now Y/n could not tolerate the presence of that nosy "Ice Prince" in his life. That boy had seen her cry when she lost her first tooth, he had seen her win many swimming competitions but also had seen her cry for how some of her false friends excluded her, he had helped her disinfect the peeled knee when they had the brilliant idea to take her skating the first time but the thing that worried Sunghoon was that he had seen her grow up and inside him every time he saw her talking or smiling at some boy who was not he a wave of jealousy or possession that swept him away, thought it was just a little infatuation but when he no longer saw Jake between his feet and told him that Y/n deserved a serious guy and that none of his friends were, his predominance and obsession for the little sister of his best friend grew more and more. He wanted to make it clear that the long-haired, wavy girl with those deer eyes was his and no other idiot who attended college and maybe the rule that he had promised not to break Jake somehow on that night would break.

The group formed by the 6 most famous and most beautiful boys on the campus was at the top of the privè of the hall with a boat made up of ice and alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages to mix and prepare drinks, All 6 were drinking and the same time laughing at the poor quality of music coming from the deejay until after an hour, the hawk eyes of Heeseung and Sunghoon see under the salt their two favorite prey or girls, both dressed in mini skirts and tops showing their slightly busty breasts who came to the bar to order drinks and the shy friend of Y/n did a per listing with her big eyes if there was a room somewhere until she saw that above there was an area of the privè slightly empty but when he saw the two guys leaning on the railing that looked at her and Y/ n turned instantly and whispered to Y/ n a sentence that he would never want to hear.

"Don’t tell me that for the only time we go out and want to have fun we must be careful with who we dance or drink just because there is that group of idiot friends of your brother" Y/n looked at his best friend with a questioning look.

"What do you mean, my brother’s friends are here? In the stories of Jay, I had seen that they were still at the ice palace to see the famous ice prince’s race, where did you see them?" you were looking at your best friend’s finger and above the privet there was nobody and maybe if you were lucky you could use the excuse that you were Jake’s sister and they could give you a coffee table.

"T/l you must have seen it wrong there is no friend of my brother in the privè instead we try to go above and see if there is some table not reserved" You saw your best friend touching her hair and looking intensely behind you and you knew that at that exact moment your best friend had seen two of your brother’s best friends in the privè and when you sunflower you found yourself in front of Heeseung and next to you there was Sunghoon who stared at you from head to foot as you were dressed with that smirky grin he always had on you.

"Good evening girls, what are you doing here alone where your other friends are? If you’re going to sit down with us there’s an extra table, it’s better if you come up with us and that you advise your friends to meet you up, it’s not so safe to stay here" Heeseung was the representation of the good guy with the nerd's face and perfect but underneath under-loved to flirt with any girl and was perhaps the most womanizer of all the group but these were only voices that he made out to have a reputation worthy of being the captain of the Basketball team but the only girl here thought was T/l.

"We appreciated Heeseung but we don't need a table, we know to protect each other and sincerely we came to have fun not to be overwhelmed by your presence. The less we are with you, the better it is for our mental health but also for our reputation" Less than a minute after a half-drunk guy took your best friend by the hips and saw her freeze instantly when the hands of that boy grabbed her hips but Heeseung gave an elbow to that half drunk and substance-impaired guy and he brought it up in Private where all the other members of the group were.

"Maybe you should listen Y/n, Heeseung’s was not a request but an order, you do not want your brother to know that his precious little sister was seen in a club in contact with hundreds of guys half drunk and on drugs because we know what would happen if he found out. He would make me come to your apartment and check on you 24 hours 24 hours that nothing happens to you but alas you hate me and the feeling is mutual, i wouldn’t want to babysit a little girl" You looked up and followed Sunghoon to the privè and your great surprise there were also your other friends in the group laughing mainly with Jungwon and Sunoo.

"Fuck you "ice prince" since i was 4 years old i have had to be on your rules or my brother’s, i can’t wait to finish college and then move to the other side of the world"

"I bet you would like to if you touch Y/n or if you fuck but this will live only in your most used fantasies and remember that anywhere in the world you will go there will be ice rinks and coaches who will want to train me so my shadow will always be near your own."

He returned to his statement, "Perhaps the only one who can’t think of me is that you’re your Sunghoon, you look at me like a hawk when i’m around you or when your jaw gets harder when you see me laughing or talking to any other guy but spoiler you swore to my brother that you would never touch me with a finger and if you do you will lose in your life one of the few people who truly love you for what you are"

"Stop teasing me Y/n, i observe what you do because your brother told me that i'm the only one he trusts 100% and that when he returns from England he will not want to find you suffering for a boy who does not deserve you and wants to see you always safe."

"Oh, Sunghoon stop with this fake, i have 20 years before someone will break my heart and make me suffer but at the same time will make me try those first times exciting both physically as the first real kiss, the first night spent together, etc but also will make me for the first time laugh, feel at ease with him and talk about all the insecurities i have and if you want to also his. Stop being on my back because before my brother would have done these things with someone"

Sunghoon when he heard these things coming out of your lips he became even more stressed and jealous because without admitting to himself he wanted to be your first in everything and already could not be your first kiss because you had given it to the senior year of higher to an idiot who after that night you had not seen around.

"God, when will you stop fighting like a married couple for years? Take a drink and sit down we want to play 7 minutes in paradise" Watch the smallest of the group Ni-Ki with a diabolical smile, who the hell still plays 7 minutes in paradise at our age? , your best friend stood next to you and looked at you a little embarrassed.

"Hey T/l you don’t have to do anything if you’re called in, if you refuse I’ll drink your share of super booze as penance. We’ve always helped each other in everything and a stupid game won’t make us tell our feelings for those two guys."

"I just want to be myself with all these friends of your brother but you know that I’m extremely shy with guys and that I don’t have so much experience"

"If you happen to go inside behave as you do with me, you are a beautiful girl and you need only one more push to make friends and who knows maybe thanks to this game you will be able to throw away some of your embarrassment and shyness" You felt the light arms of T/l embrace you and smile to your friend and saw everyone sit around the tables and Ni-Ki with a bottle in hand turned it and poured two shots of rum, the first couple was formed by a friend of theirs named Han and a tiny girl with red hair; when they left they had slightly red cheeks and swollen lips, your friend had refused to enter the small room because she was engaged and so Ni-Ki made him drink only one shot and not two.

You watched the bottle turn and first stopped at Jungwon and for the second time stopped at your best friend, you looked at it with a smile and saw it get up and go near Jungwon, but Heeseung looked with a silent but scary look Jungwon, if he only tried to touch her with one finger, it would not make life easy for him.

Heeseung always checked his phone to see how many minutes passed and after 6 minutes he got up and went to knock strongly on the door, a small laugh came out of your mouth, you knew of the small crush that had the biggest one in the group for your best friend but you wanted to see him suffer and become jealous until he would burst out with anger because if he really wanted your best friend he had to pass on your corpse because T/l deserved better.

When T/l came out of the small room he was still laughing with Jungwon and a little sigh came out of your mouth, you would have prayed to see the couple formed by your best friend but you knew that for her only Heeseung and his roommate. This time it was your best friend’s turn to turn the bottle around and you saw that she stopped where you were sitting, you prayed that she let Sunoo or Jay out while with them you were really friends but when she stopped the boy sat in front of you you realized that you had two options: that of getting drunk because you couldn’t hold the alcohol at all and those two shots would make you slightly giddy or to spend 7 minutes with your enemy number one.

You chose the second because even if you had to spend 7 minutes with him he promised your brother that he would not touch you with a finger because Hoon is always dedicated to his promises but maybe that night he would break it.

When you and Sunghoon entered the small room, you heard a slight whistle from Heeseung, and Jay said "Be good and don’t kill yourself because we may surprise you". You knew that Jay loved to joke but when you heard the door lock you told Jay because nobody had locked the door, "God this is a nightmare, why did they lock us? Don’t tell me you’re in the middle of all these things because tomorrow you will not be with others and you can no longer skate" a light laugh came out of Sunghoon and for your taste was too close, the space between you and him was the minimum unthinkable.

"Where did the girl who used to throw arrows at me? Don’t tell me you’re afraid to spend 7 minutes in heaven or maybe hell with me squeaky!"

"Don’t call me squirt, i’m not 8 years old and I’m not so short, you’re too big and you look like a streetlight, you’re all legs and you pull it with those biceps on the ig story just to get the pick me girl to write." Sunghoon came even closer to you and you knew that he only wanted to tease and make you uncomfortable, you felt a hint of cleanness mixed with mint and saw his rebellious tufts of long fringe clinging to the forehead because of the too-hot there was in that room.

"Don’t tell me you’re jealous of all those girls who write to me or see me at ice skating because the list you should be jealous of is so long, creepy!

"I’m not jealous of you Sunghoon, the less you are close to me and the less i see you the better" Sungoon put an arm above your head drew dangerously close to you, and whispered in your ear little shivers formed throughout your body.

"Stop lying to yourself, i see how you look at me like a hawk while i talk, eat, study, dance, or hang out with other girls. You’re also obsessed by my presence, if you weren’t my best friend’s sister i’d already kiss you, make you mine in any way, and let everyone know that you’re only mine and no one else."

“Then why haven’t you done it yet? If you know it’s what i want too" You felt Hoon’s fleshy lips leave little moist kisses around your neck and you felt your earlobe slightly suck and a little groan came out of your lips, Sunghoon looked literally like a vampire in a human version when he sucked your skin she bit you slightly with his two sharp canines but at the same time she kissed and tickled your back with her hands light and cold for your body that had reached a temperature too hot because of the touches that left you the Prince of ice.

"God how many times i dreamed of hearing you groan because of me, remember that only i can make you feel this way and no other idiot" You put your arms around your neck to hold but also because you were shorter than him, when it came off your neck you looked at it carefully and never had seen such a beautiful version of Sunghoon in your life. You clenched your lips in her lips and after seconds you rubbed into her body and felt Hoon moaning "Don’t tell me that Ice Prince is moaning thanks to me, weren’t you the one who said you didn’t go with girls without experience because they wouldn’t make you come or groan?" You pulled his hair slightly and you got closer by lowering his head slightly and you started sucking as he had done with your neck "Oh god Y/n, how the fuck did you understand my weak point?" You woke up from her statement and you felt his big hand around your side and with the other one he made light circles over your panties without asking you felt his finger enter inside of you and you leaned to his chest "Hoon, please."

"Fuck Y/n, what did you call me?" Hoon felt you touch yourself to the bottom and bit your lip not to let it know that you loved that feeling

"Hoon" Sunghoon was ecstatic to see you so lost at that moment that he pushed another say and to his joy, you heard groan again his name, began to hold him tight, and to the same to you a fingering until you were in his hands. You put your head in your body and gave a slight dip in your head "I think i broke the rule of not touching you with a finger Y/n, but it was worth seeing you and hearing my name moan"

The sound of two fists striking the door brought you back to reality and you broke away from Sunghoon’s strong arms with your heart beating wildly, you knew that you had spent more than 7 minutes in heaven for your heart but hell for how you felt about breaking Sunghoon’s promise to Jake. When you left T/l was waiting for you at the exit of the disoteca and he hugged you and with a small grin smiled at you because you had all red cheeks but also your lips were much more puffy than usual, you laughed for a moment and covered your face for the embarrassment you had felt but also for all those first emotions that Sunghoon had made you feel.

It had been almost a week since that game, you tried not to think of Hoon but at the same time stalked him a little bit to see if he was dating his friends or some girl but put only photos of him while he was training to skate or content brandized always for the Winter Olympics, you looked at the schedule of the ice-pack shifts and it would be over in less than an hour so you left your little room and went to him without knowing what to say.

The cold air of the pitiful sportsman made you shiver from the strong temperature change, it was a long time since you went to see Sunghoon train, when you and Jake were little, you would always go to see him running around and you’d love to throw them after a performance of the various plush or flowers. Sunghoon looked like a different person while skating, had that angelic aura while dancing on that ice sheet that seemed to be one when sliding the steel plate as he pushed for a perfect jump. You were so fascinated to see him skating that you did not realize that next to you there was a girl who was looking at you from head to foot.

You saw the skater slip on the ice looking bad and then go to Sunghoon, stopped to talk a few minutes with him, and finally, Hoon caught you looking at him and you looked away, It was definitely better to stay home if you didn’t have an excuse to come and see Hoon train.

Hoon skated in the direction of where you were sitting in the stands and made a sign with his fingers to go down from the small stand, close up he was even more beautiful than usual had pants of yours that wrapped his long legs, a slightly narrow sweatshirt and had a sort of band that made him hold on to the long black tufts of his fringe.

"What is my best friend’s sweet little sister doing here? Don’t tell me you miss me already and that you want to mark the territory from all my fans" You raised your eyes was better than the cold and introverted Sunghoon

"I’m not so desperate for you Sunghoon to call security for stalking."

"Touchè, so why are you here T/l? It’s been at least two years since you came to see me at training and now i find you after a week of our secret or can i say quick inside that tiny room? Your cheeks warmed and you saw him leaning against the railing that bounded the circumference of the ice rink and brought his face closer to yours.

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay and like before between you and me, I wouldn’t want you and Jake fighting over a stupid kiss or how you said a quickie."

Sunghoon looked at you slightly surprised by your statement and his jaw hardened even more because for him it had not been a stupid kiss or a stupid quickie.

“Wait here, and in less than five minutes I’ll make you realize that what we did in that room wasn’t a stupid kiss for me, squirt!"

Sunghoon’s apartment represented all his slightly cold personality with people he didn’t know, where he did not fully transpire his emotions but underneath inside him there was not only Ice Prince and one of the strongest skaters in Korea and his generation but also a guy full of ambition and friends who loved him. Black and white contrasted with the modern skater’s apartment and to your surprise there was a picture of you, Jake, and Sunghoon at his first ice skating competition in Seoul, It warmed your heart slightly because you too had that photo in polaroid format hanging on your wall and a genuine smile formed in your lips.

"Oh my god, i didn’t care if you still kept this photo, at that time I was as tall as you and I remember your parents had brought us all 3 to celebrate eating some delicious Hamburger" You felt the presence of Sunghoon behind you and felt his head lean against your shoulder

"How could I not keep that picture? It was my first victory of a series of many others and i remember that before going down in the ice you had given me a light kiss near the mole next to my eye to wish me good luck" Sunghoon’s big arms embraced your hips and smelled your delicious scent.

How could he still remember that event? You thought that if he had forgotten it during the years but instead inside of you it had remained near as a little Hoon smiled at you with the cheeks slightly plump and red because of the cold or perhaps the embarrassment...

"Always modest the boy, however, is did not think you remember still that little kiss i gave you. Since that time you have forced Jake to show me every one of your races live or on TV" Hoon turned and his big hands went onto your hips and brought you closer to him, you looked closely at his face and moved a strand of hair from his face.

"I had forced your brother to show you my races because even though we were on the other side of the state in my mind if you followed my races you brought me luck, write it down." You felt Hoon’s slightly cold hand go under your sweatshirt and started to make little circles under your bra and smiled when she saw you were slightly embarrassed by just that little touch that made you blush.

"Hoon, seriously what are you trying to tell me or do touching me or hugging me? it’s not like you to be so physical with people."

I’m just making you understand the reality that I like you for not knowing as time but because of that rule set by your brother I was always afraid to really bring out my feelings for you Y/n, and I would like you to see me as a normal boy and not as Ice Prince or the guy who hates you because he keeps you under control" you put your head close to his heart and felt that it was beating hard and the same thing was feeling yours too.

"You always liked me too but i thought it was normal having you around the house when in high school or university I saw you with other girls in became super cynical and angry with you but also with myself" Sunghoon laughed at your statement

"Uhm, i never thought to say it but I like girls a little bit territorial Y/n!"

Omg i hope you liked it, i added an extra part because i didn’t like how i had made it conclude

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guarddogcreates · 5 days ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Hawks x ProHero!Reader Drabble

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Some were scared to love, feared it, avoided it at every turn. But to Hawks, what is fear if not merely just an obstacle you have yet to overcome?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, reader can be read as gender neutral, sad hawks at the beginning, mutual pining, slow burn, friends to lovers?

𝐓𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,367

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I didn't think I would be writing for Hawks so soon! This drabble is a little experimental for me, but I'm happy with how it turned out :-) Hope you enjoy!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 // 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 // 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Hawks was no stranger to love…

It wasn't often he found something pretty to get along with, but when he did, it didn't take long for a small flame to grow into a fire. Secret dinners, blind dates, dating apps… even dates hidden in shared plans with other friends- Contrary to popular belief, Hawks could count on his two hands how many relationships he's been in. Before they could ever turn into something more, though, something substantial and long and sustaining… they would all dwindle into nothing more than ash.

Love was something everyone craved, one way or another. With many shapes and forms, and its difficult-to-define manner, it's possible to believe that love could be found everywhere, and in almost anything- A book with curled corners and pages faded with age, the same mug placed in the sink every morning after a homemade cup of coffee, the shared bottle of water on a sunny, humid day, or even in the gentle wind that hugs you as you walk from place to place. It wasn't hard to romanticize simple, everyday things, or to see the appreciation and infatuation that squeezed itself into the actions shared with others.

The first time Hawks thought he could keep someone around, he submitted to the intimacy and let his guard down. He felt safe, secure, content… After spending his most recent years running and moving faster than anyone else, Hawks understood the sacrifice of slowing down for someone, how it would be worth it, it had to be, if it meant he got to experience the one thing that felt inevitable, yet hard to catch. Finally, he thought, someone was ready to love him just as he had learned to loved them. A week later, Hawks woke up to an empty apartment.. The air was too still, too quiet, and vacant of any trace of a lover at all. It was almost like the whole thing never happened, and the only proof that made him know otherwise was the goodbye note left on the dining room table, and the "I'm sorry" text that lit up his phone screen.

Hawks learned that he couldn't afford to sacrifice slowing down for someone else's sake.

The second time Hawks put himself out there, once he eventually felt ready to try again, he had opted to be set up on a blind date. This was a friend of a friend… of a friend… but he could only fly up from here. The connection, the chemistry, the spark- it was all there, and he couldn't believe it. Hawks had heard about the horrors of arranged dates and the element of going in blind, so the success in the evening so far was almost too good to be true. The conversations seemed effortless, the laughs and smiles were genuine, and not a single mention of being a hero! Maybe it was the wine that paired with the meal, or the rose-tinted glasses, but Hawks could find himself relaxing in his chair, if even just a little bit. That was, until, his date had let it slip about taking him home for the night because "..such a handsome man shouldn't end the night unsatisfied~" To assume that this wasn't enough, and to think of him as nothing more than a pretty face… after how well the dinner seemed to be going? This just wasn't what he was looking for.. Hawks had ended the night early, his mood soured enough to make his wings twitch in annoyance… So he downed the rest of his wine, turned with a small wave, and sent the friend who set them up a text about the night's failure, leaving more than enough cash to cover the bill and the tip.

Hawks knew it was never smart to go in blind, but now he learned that this applied to love, too.

By the nth time Hawks thought he finally had something that stood a fighting chance, he wasn't the same "calm, cool, collected" he was the first time around. He was still patient and understanding, but he was also wary and closed off. Time and time again he had been let down, so now, it was better to decide to take things slow. He had to be cautious and observant, he had to dance around the line between lovers and strangers because he wasn't ready to be disappointed again. But this sort of discretion- the wall and hard exterior that had built up around him over time- was his very downfall.

By then, with try after try falling short, Hawks had given up on love.

Sure, though begrudgingly, a situationship or two had filled in the gaps, but there was nothing permanent, nothing worth slowing down for. There wasn't a single thing that could keep up with him, nothing that made him sure the hushed whispers and secret nights spent in another person's bed would become anything that could sustain him long-term.

So he cut it all off. And now? There was nothing.

Hawks learned that maybe this was something he had to live without.

And actually, Hawks knew that all… this… wasn't love, but it was easier to convince himself that it was. He thought it was possible to heal old wounds with new hopes and relieve faded scars with fleeting kisses. It was easier to believe that he had it all under control.

Hawks was no stranger to love. At least, that's what he told himself.

After trying so hard, there was only so many times he would tolerate opening himself up just to close himself back off again. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a new outcome, but knowing nothing will ever change… Hawks was no insane man.

There was no room for anything else. It was him and his work, and overtime, he learned to be okay with that- He learned to be okay with all the things that came with being alone. It was better this way. It was better because it had to be.

Climbing the ranks, growing stronger, moving faster, flying higher… Hawks was fully committed to the job, and simply nothing else. There was no time… no time for distractions or love or anything else except for the mission. Waiting for others to stop and match his pace was a luxury Hawks could no longer afford.

But then… you. You. You just had to ruin the routine he finally accepted.

Surely you would be the death of him.

You were bright and radiant.. blinding, even, with a laugh that echoed inside his mind, and a smile with warmth so genuine, it could compare only to that of the sun. You, a young, new pro, with speed as quick as his, glowing reviews in the public eye, and determination that hasn't been seen since All Might was number one. Climbing the ranks- soaring- flying to heights that only he alone could reach.

The world wasn't ready for you, was it? Neither was he.

Because, now, there was you.

And suddenly, it was like he was the one who had to catch up.

Wasn't Hawks no stranger to love..? Quite the flirty pro-hero, quick witted with fast remarks and a loose tongue that made others gasp at the absurdity and laugh and roll their eyes. But that was all for show. It was all apart of who he was, wasn't it? It had to be.

He had experience, sure, but… he was rather inexperienced despite the trial and error. He had to be familiar, had to act like someone you've known your whole life but haven't actually met until now. He had to build this sort of trust because a pro hero that couldn't be trusted was a pro hero that wasn't doing their job right. So if he could make someone laugh or blush or shake their head in silly denial, show a side of themselves that lifted the fear and weight off of their shoulders and let them become comfortable in times where life could be too hard? That was enough for him.

It came naturally, and it made him smile to bring a simple joy to others with just his words and flirtations. Maybe it was close to how he really acted when not on the job, but after try and try again, it was hard for him to relax enough to truly be himself.

To him, this was all apart of who he was. And nothing more.

Until you.

Hawks had first met you at a patrol briefing. Spotting you towards the back of the group in a shiny new hero costume, all quiet and shy and buzzing with the excitement of being an upcoming pro, he could remember it clearly.

Everyone had heard about you from your old mentor, and as they stood next to you, it was hard to ignore the pride they carried for you, bragging about the success of your internship with them from your time at UA, and how you would fit right in here after all the interaction broke you out of your shell. Hawks could remember how intimidating it was when he first started, how electrifying it had felt to be in a new headquarters surrounded by people he never thought he'd see off of the big screen.

Thoughts were interrupted by a quick, yet effective, quip from you that made the whole meeting erupt in welcoming laughter and giggles- the smile that grew on his face was impossible to suppress. He watched the tension disappear from your shoulders as the noised died down.

You would fit in just fine.

The meeting bore on as each hero was assigned a partner and then a location for their patrol. Slowly, the room began to empty, even your mentor leaving you with a pat on your back and a small "You got this!" until all that was left were a few workers from the headquarters, heroes that stayed behind to chat before going on patrol, and the two of you.

"…will be taking Quadrant E10. It's right by UA campus, so the area should be familiar."

It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did to be assigned as your partner for patrol that evening.

He watched as you walked over, something mischievous and unreadable in your eyes, before you passed right by him with nothing more than a "I was hoping it would be you." It knocked whatever words he was going to say right out of him.

Mouth hung open in disbelief, a smile crawled onto his features as he turned to watch you leave, only to see you waving right back at him as you pushed out the meeting room doors. "See you tonight!" echoed back at him, but he was planted in his spot. Hawks shook his head as the sound of your footsteps faded away. What was he going to do with you?

Your presence became a constant in his life from then on out, and his in yours- partners on nights when you were both assigned to patrol, exchanges of "how are you" and "what have you been up to" turning into hours of conversation, casual run-ins on the street evolving into going somewhere for a little drink… You don't know when it changed, but sooner rather than later, you found yourself meeting him for dinner or a light meal before patrol at new places you "just had to try!," or inviting him over for movie nights at your place when the week got a little too stagnant. Maybe it was the occasional "Have fun on your mission!" texts you got from him, or the treats he would bring to you as a surprise when the day felt a little too long, but it was getting harder to ignore the things that pushed you into the limbo between friends and lovers.

You didn't plan to fall for anyone this soon… Neither did he.

"Is it you or the hero work that's makin' my heart race?" Quicker than the wind that hugged the city, and quieter than the busy streets below, he came out of nowhere, red feathers painting your peripheral as his footsteps stopped right beside you.

You laughed, sitting on the rooftop's edge, eyes quick to glance over his form, before returning to people watching, "If it was me, you would know.." You ignored the irony of your increasing heart rate, moving to stand before inching closer, invading his space just enough to leave room for all the things left unsaid.

The tip of your shoes nudged against the boots of his hero costume, feathers ruffling at the shared proximity, before you whispered, "I can do much more to you than this hero work ever will."

Hawks laughed a little as you stepped away, quick to mask the walls within him that slowly crumbled more and more with each moment he spent with you. "Hey, you know-"

You cut him off before he could comment, "I thought you were supposed to be the fastest? Maybe if you flew as fast as your heart raced, you'd be able to keep up with me…" You were quick to depart after that, sending him a playful wink before going down the planned patrol route, and effectively leaving him to catch up.

He knew you were teasing, and he just couldn't be mad.

Hawks watched as you left, light blush from the shock painting his face, a dangerous smile flying onto his lips, and a laugh of disbelief leaving his lungs. He shook his head, wings spreading as he lagged close behind, "What am I going to do with you..?"

No longer did Hawks have to wait for someone to keep up, wish that someone could see the world moving and changing just as fast as he flew… Because here you were, waiting for the world to reach your speed, rather than slowing down for the benefit of anyone else. Just like him.

What was he going to do with you?

The infatuation- the love- hit him like a wall. And yet, all he could do was laugh.

Why shouldn't he?

Icarus laughed as he fell, too.

#guarddogcreates #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #mha hawks #hawks x reader #bnha hawks #bnha hawks x reader

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sitp-recs · 10 months ago

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top 10 drarry fics by the sheer force of the feels they gave you? not necessarily good feels! things you remember primarily because they hit hard in some way.

obviously, i'd also love to hear exactly how/why they hit hard if you're up for sharing that!

Oh that’s such a wonderful ask, thank you! I’m sorry for the late reply, the 10 fics came easily bc whenever I see those titles I get immediately transported back to where I was and what I felt reading them for the first time. But putting into words what exactly makes them heartkick-y for me was a bit more challengeging. It’s usually a “when you feel it you know it” kind of thing (and quite literally too, as sometimes it manifests as an actual physical reaction!) but more often than not the fic just clicks for me and there’s no rationale behind it. As Clarice Lispector said: “I suppose that understanding myself is not a question of intelligence but of feeling. It either touches you, or it doesn't."

Anyhoo, I tried my best to keep this short and sweet but since I’ve written individual recs for almost all these fics, I thought I’d include them too :) thanks again, this was super fun! And I’d love to read about your picks as well 👀

An Emerald In The Sky by corvuscrowned | my rec

it doesn’t get more romantic than star-crossed lovers doomed by time travel!!!! (see also: my thoughts on The Eighth Tale by lettered). this is my brand of melancholy, something about the constant yearning, the beauty of stolen moments in liminal space, the unfairness of it all… ugh

Far From the Tree by aideomai | my rec

fft has altered my brain chemistry and ruined me forever with its tender devastation, I had such a visceral reaction to it - to the point of feeling dizzy and feverish. a simple time travel concept (this is my kryptonite istg) but the epic storytelling! the gratification! the bittersweet ending! rereading it would kill me but what a way to go

Forgive Those Who Trespass by Lomonaaeren

easily one of the most haunting and terrifying fics I’ve ever read, one jumpscare after the other but so creative and well-written I was too busy collecting my jaw from the floor to talk myself out of it lol

Little Compton Street by writcraft | my rec

as a queer woman, this one feels extremely personal and is very dear to my heart. I’ll never forget the emotions I felt learning about queer history and finding a sense of peace and belonging. lcs feels like coming home 🏳️‍🌈

Little Red Courgette by blamebrampton

this was my first bb fic and their sense of humor just blew my mind. I was so impressed by the smooth world building, by their wit and clever political commentary. I just couldn’t stop laughing. the dialogue is so good it makes me wanna weep, I can’t explain how much joy and comfort this fic gave me

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore

full disclosure: my reading experience was shaped by the fact that I didn’t realize the tagged disability would be major and permanent 🤡 by the time I noticed I was so emotionally invested I couldn’t stop. one of the most painful reads I’ve ever endured, worth it tho

Running on Air by eleventy7 | my rec

introspective fics are my jam and this one was just what I needed while working through some shit at a turning point in my life. so I guess it was more about finding the right fic at the right time, and I’m hit by mixed feelings of catharsis and nostalgia every time I revisit roa.

Still Life (orphaned) | my rec

my definition of a perfect shortfic. gorgeous prose, flawless execution, the “nothing is happening but everything is changing” vibes I live for, one of the best Harry pov I’ve ever read and an ending that always makes me gasp in awe. few authors can write complex emotions so effortlessly as seefin, absolute masterclass

Super Rich Kids by trishjames | my rec

criminally underrated, this story broke my heart but also gave me such a THRILL. I usually avoid substance abuse in fic but something about Draco’s spiral journey felt so raw it kept me at the edge of my seat. devastating but also a surprisingly funny and exciting thriller. the range!!!

The Long Fall by tackytiger | my rec

as someone who’s never been into kid fic and family dynamics, this was a punch on the solar plexus and rearranged my whole view about this trope. I was deeply moved by Harry’s longing for a family of his own and despite not having or wanting kids, this still felt really cathartic and changed me in a way I can’t quite explain.

#top 10 ask game #smehur #pls keep in mind this is obviously 100% personal #as it should be

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nyxs2 · 16 days ago

Text

Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 27/?)

Family isn’t bound by blood — it’s built in constancy, in the quiet weight of shared moments and the feelings that grow between them. Sometimes, without warning, the most unlikely souls become part of the madness you dare to call home

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 8,9K

Warnings: mentions of stabbings, references to child imprisonment, allusion to human experiments, references to scientific experiments without consent

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 26

For a long while, you just sat there together, in that little world of your own where the outside world could never reach. In that little bubble where nothing else mattered but that moment, which was so simple and mundane yet had completely changed the chemistry of your brain. But there was something else you needed to say—something heavy that had been pressing against your heart since you first decided to find Powder. The reason you're there in the first place.

You hesitated, gathering your courage, your fingers lightly combing through her tangled hair. Finally, you spoke, your voice soft as a whisper in the dim light.

"Do you... do you still remember your sister?"

You felt her stiffen slightly against you, the smallest catch in her breath. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"Sometimes." her voice was low and guarded. "I... I dream about her, sometimes. And sometimes, when I'm walking around, if I see someone with a... you know, the same ugly haircut she had." she said with a little watery laugh, trying to make a joke of it, "Then I think I see her for a second."

You smiled faintly at her attempt to be strong, but it didn't fool you. You saw the sadness settle deep into her blue eyes, the way her shoulders curled inward, protective, wounded.

"Silco said... she's dead too."

You felt your hands tighten slightly where you were holding her. You forced yourself to stay calm, to not show your anger. Powder didn't need more confusion. She needed care. She needed the truth—but gently, carefully, like setting a wounded bird back into the sky.

"Do you believe him?"

Powder shrugged, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. "Yeah... I mean, why would he lie?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, the words you wanted to say burning on your tongue. But you couldn't tear down her trust in Silco. Not completely. Not when he was still, somehow, a part of the fragile world she clung to.

Because even if you had the power to manipulate Powder into your side, to deny Silco's influence, and to make her hate him completely for keeping her away from her sister, you couldn't. It didn't seem right to use her volatile feelings as a weapon against Silco, even knowing that if he could, he would do it against you. Silco loved this child, perhaps more than he loved you, but you couldn't blame him. He would probably give up his greatest dream if it cost him his daughter, and you were so certain of that.

So you protected him. Not for him, but for her.

"Maybe..." you began carefully, choosing each word with painstaking precision, "Maybe he wasn't lying. Maybe he just didn't know. Maybe he didn't look hard enough, or he gave up too soon. Sometimes adults think something is true because they don't want to hope anymore."

Powder tilted her head at you, frowning slightly in that way she always did when she was trying to puzzle out something bigger than herself.

"But... why are you talking about this?" she asked, suspicion creeping into her voice, making it small, defensive. "Why bring her up now?"

You reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly between yours, grounding yourself in her warmth, her life.

"Because, I found her." You felt her breath hitch against you. "I found Violet and I'm going to take you to her."

Powder looked at you like you'd grown a second head right out of your neck. Her wide blue eyes were fixed on your face, unblinking, caught somewhere between disbelief and outright shock. You could practically hear the gears turning in her mind as she tried to process your words. It wasn't that she thought you were lying—no, Powder was the kind of girl who would've told you straight to your face if she thought you were full of it. But now? Now she was too stunned to even get that far. Her mouth hung open for a moment before she finally managed to stammer out a single word:

"What?" Her voice was so small, like it barely had the strength to crawl out of her throat. "She's alive?"

You nodded, slowly, watching her face for any sign that she might break under the weight of this revelation. "Yeah. She's alive. She's been imprisoned all these years, hidden away somewhere no one could find her. That's why no one ever heard anything, why it was like she just vanished."

The silence that followed felt impossibly loud. Powder's brows knit together, confusion and a flicker of something else—hope, maybe?—pulling at her expression. She didn't speak right away. You could see her jaw twitch slightly, like she was biting back every emotion rising up inside her.

And then, finally, she asked, "Marcus?"

You exhaled, the sound more of a release than a breath. "Marcus." you confirmed with a slow nod. The name alone was heavy on your tongue, like it carried all the weight of what had happened—of what he had done. "I already dealt with him." you added, voice low, but firm. "Trust me, he won't be stupid enough to try anything again."

The silence stretched between you like a heavy fog—thick, unmoving. You didn't rush it. Powder needed this pause, this moment to breathe, to not drown in the wave of information you'd just unloaded. You only noticed her hands were trembling when your own tightened gently around them, instinctively, like your body knew before your mind did. Her fingers were small in yours, bones fragile, skin cold. She was trying so hard to hold it together, but her body betrayed her. She was just a child, and yet carrying the weight of things even grown soldiers would crumble under.

It was too much.

Too fast.

Too real.

But you didn't let go. You just held on, silently anchoring her while her mind tried to ground itself. After a long stretch of quiet, her voice came out barely above a whisper, a raw crack of worry threading through the words.

"Is Vi okay?"

Ah. There it was. The question you'd been dreading. Her eyes, still too wide, too wet, searched your face for something—hope, maybe. A lie that could soothe her for a few minutes more. But you couldn't do that to her. Not to Powder. She had been lied to enough.

You let out a soft, regretful breath. "I wish I could say yes, but that wouldn't be fair to you. And I... I'd never forgive myself for lying to you."

You gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. They were still shaking.

"Your sister is sick." you continued. "Really sick. And no doctor has been able to figure out what's wrong with her. They've all tried. All of them. But I'm not giving up." You leaned in just a little, keeping your tone steady even though your own heart felt like it might break from the weight of it all. "You remember the man who gave you the letter? Viktor. He's brilliant, way beyond anything Piltover gives him credit for. He's going to help me find a cure. For Vi."

Powder blinked a few times. Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell. "And it's going to work?" she asked, voice small, uncertain.

"Of course it will, little one." You smiled, soft but sure, doing your best to offer her something solid to hold onto in the chaos. "It's not going to be easy, and it's not going to be fast. But we're going to fix this. Your sister's going to be okay. She's strong. Just like you."

Without warning, Powder lunged forward and pressed herself against you again, her head thudding gently against your chest like she was finally letting herself collapse from the weight of it all. Her arms didn't wrap around you, not at first—she just leaned into you as if your body could hold her up, could shield her from everything spinning out of control in her world. You instinctively wrapped your arms around her small frame, curling around her like a shell closing over something fragile.

And it was then, as you felt her breath hiccup against you, that you noticed something. Her fingers were curled tight around something between them, and when you glanced down, you recognized it immediately. The glint of the pendant, the delicate chain—it was your necklace. Her voice broke the silence, soft and unsure, barely more than a breath.

"Can we go see her?"

Your throat tightened at the question. There was something so raw in her tone, so stripped down. Not the voice of a manic genius or a volatile powder keg. Just a little girl. A girl who had spent too long believing she'd destroyed the one person she loved most. You let your chin rest gently on top of her messy blue hair, pulling her tighter into your arms like she might vanish if you let go.

"Of course." you murmured, your voice low but steady. "That was the plan all along. I just need to know how long you can disappear before Silco starts wondering where you've gone."

Powder gave a little hum, thinking, and then snorted lightly with a mischievous grin that you could feel against your shirt.

"I think I've got until tonight." she whispered conspiratorially. "Silco usually sends that giant brick wall Sevika to check my lab to make sure I'm 'resting' like he tells me to." You arched a brow, but she beat you to the punch with a giggle that sounded like it was still carrying the tail end of a sob. "I always pretend I'm passed out at my desk so she'll leave me alone. She doesn't even bother to poke me anymore. Just grunts and walks off."

Powder shifted slightly in your lap, pulling away just enough to give herself space, though she didn't move from where she sat. She lifted the necklace. Her fingers closed around the chain as if she wasn't entirely ready to let it go, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she looked up at you and said softly,

"This is yours."

You stared at the necklace for a moment, then arched an eyebrow. "Why don't you put it on me?"

It wasn't a demand, not really. But Powder took it like it was—like some quiet command she was more than willing to follow. There was a tenderness in her movements as she leaned closer, trying to drape the necklace around your neck with a care that bordered on reverence.

You helped guide her small hands into place, and she fumbled with the tiny clasp for several long minutes. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she concentrated, brows furrowed, tongue peeking slightly from the corner of her mouth like it always did when she was trying really, really hard.

Finally, with a tiny click of metal, she got it. A victorious huff escaped her lips. She gently adjusted the chain so that the pendant rested perfectly at the center of your chest, and then she did something that made your breath catch.

She fixed you. Just like she had that night at the ball. A stray strand of hair was tucked gently behind your ear, her touch feather-light and delicate. Then her hand brushed away a bit of imaginary dust from your shoulder, and her thumb ran across the curve of your jaw as if smoothing away some invisible smudge. It wasn't just a gesture—it was a memory. A ritual, almost. Something soft and sweet that only the two of you understood.

And then, when the silence returned, you asked quietly, "Ready to see your sister?"

Powder nodded, but the motion was hesitant, her confidence faltering before it could truly form. Her face twisted into a small, pained expression, and her voice came out so quiet, it almost didn't reach you.

"What if she doesn't like me...? I... I changed after she left. I'm not the same anymore."

You felt your heart ache at the vulnerability in her voice. You brought your hands up gently and cupped her face, coaxing her to look at you. Her eyes met yours—blue, filled with too many emotions for someone so young. She still looked like a child, but her eyes held something older. Something that shouldn't have ever had to grow there.

"Oh, my little one..." you said softly, thumb brushing her cheek. "Your sister could never stop loving you. Never. No matter how much either of you has changed. You've both walked through fire. But what matters now is that you're here. That you're together."

She blinked hard, as if holding back tears she didn't want you to see, then nodded again, slower this time. And you could feel it—that trembling, delicate hope beginning to take root in her chest.

[...]

Getting to the Stillwater hold was the easy part. Slipping into the transport bay, where they loaded prisoners into those cold, humming steel wagons bound for the prison? That was a whole different beast—especially when you were trying to sneak in with a litlte girl glued to your side. But of course, Jinx had the most brilliant idea imaginable: fake a prisoner transfer. She even insisted on being the prisoner herself, and to your reluctant surprise, the plan worked far too well.

No one questioned it when you marched down the platform wearing that enforcer uniform and with a firm grip on a squirming Powder, who had fully committed to her role as a Zaunite troublemaker. She kicked at the air, grumbled under her breath, eyes darting around like a trapped animal, and even spit once—convincingly, you might add. No one batted an eye.

No questions. No hesitation. You had walked right past half a dozen guards, a few transport officers, an entire hallway of people who looked the other way as you dragged a child into one of the most secure prison entryways in all of Piltover.

No one cared. No one asked why a girl—a child—was being taken into Stillwater. A kid from Zaun? That was enough. That was always enough.

The moment you stepped into the check-in checkpoint, though, everything in your gut told you this was where the real trouble would start. Standing in front of the reinforced gate was the Warden. Not a warden. The Warden—the man who oversaw every body that passed through the front of the prison.

His figure was massive, built like a slab of stone with arms like tree trunks and a neck that had seemingly been lost somewhere between his hulking shoulders. His face was the kind you saw carved into war memorials—harsh and square, a wide jaw clenched tight beneath a jutting chin. His skin was a sickly pale gray, almost as if the prison's cold lighting had seeped into his flesh over the years and made a permanent home there.

He stared at you with narrowed, deep-set eyes under thick brows that didn't twitch once. You felt the weight of his gaze drag across your face, then slide over to Powder. Her fidgeting slowed a little, not out of fear, but something sharper—something like the deep instinct to run that all street kids developed early. You saw it in her too-wide eyes, in the way she shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet, always ready to bolt.

This was the moment. You could feel the blood rising in your ears. If he asked one question—just one—you'd have to knock him out. If he touched Powder, you'd break his arm. Your fingers tensed slightly around her wrists, preparing for the worst.

"We're locking up kids now and no one told me?" the Warden asked, half-joking, though his voice still scraped like a dull blade against stone. He leaned forward ever so slightly, casting a long, looming shadow over Powder as he looked her over with more interest than you were comfortable with.

It took everything in you not to step between them. You could feel your fingers twitching with the urge, the fire crawling up the back of your spine. You hated that look. The way men like him looked at people from Zaun—especially the young, vulnerable ones. As if the worst parts of the world had already claimed them, so there was no point in pretending they were worth protecting.

You forced yourself to stay in character. Just another enforcer. Just another boot on the neck of someone too small to fight back.

"Marcus sent me." you said, keeping your voice low and indifferent, just the right mix of boredom and detachment. "Said I should teach her a lesson. She got caught trying to lift from some Piltie noble. You know how they get."

The Warden's lip curled slightly, something between amusement and disdain. "Oh, I know exactly how they get."

He turned back to his desk with a grunt, scribbled a quick signature on a line without even looking up again, and handed you a rusted key, the metal cold and heavy in your hand.

"Solitary." he said, voice flat. "Downstairs. She can't go in with the others, not with her size. Toss her in there for a few hours. Let her stew."

That was it. No further questions. No paperwork checked. No suspicion. Just a key and the sound of a gate sliding open again.

You nodded once and started moving, gently tugging Powder along. She didn't resist. Her act was still perfect—eyes downcast, body slouched just enough to seem defeated, but still tense enough to pass for some kid who hadn't fully given up. You knew her well enough to feel how fast her heart must be racing, the way she kept close without clinging, her fingers brushing yours as if seeking some invisible tether in the dark.

You led her down the hallway, your boots echoing on the cold, metallic floor. The walls of Stillwater seemed to close in the deeper you went. The air was different down here—heavier, somehow. Full of something stale and sharp, like rust and rot and things people weren't meant to breathe in for too long.

And just like that—just like that—you'd smuggled Powder into Stillwater.

The walk to Vi's solitary cell was nothing short of suffocating. The hallway was long and quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against your ears, threatening to smother the thoughts in your head. The lights overhead flickered with that sickly fluorescent hue, casting long, distorted shadows across the cold floor. It was the kind of place where time seemed to stretch and twist, where each step felt like it echoed into some endless void. Powder walked beside you, smaller than usual, her arm brushing yours as her fingers crept slowly toward your hand until they found it—and held on tight.

Then, just before Vi's cell, she stopped. Her hand tightened around yours like a vise.

You halted with her, watching in silence as she stared ahead at the cell just one door down. She didn't look at you, didn't speak—just stood there, her small shoulders trembling slightly as she inhaled, sharp and unsteady. You could feel the fear radiating off her, not fear of the prison or the guards or what came next, but fear of her. Of Vi. Of what she might see in her sister's eyes after three long years.

But then she gritted her teeth. Took another breath. And walked.

You let her guide your hand forward this time, step by step, until you both stood in front of the cell you came for.

Inside, Violet was sitting on the edge of the narrow metal cot, halfway through lifting a small paper cup of pills to her mouth. Her posture was slouched. The moment you knocked on the iron bars, the sound cracked through the hallway like a whip.

Vi turned toward you with a frown, her jaw clenched. She looked tired. Not just physically, but in her soul. Her gaze locked onto yours, unflinching and suspicious, even as she downed the pill and tossed the cup aside with a sigh.

"What do you want?"

You didn't answer. Instead, you just smiled.

And slowly, you pulled out the rusted key and slid it into the lock. The mechanism groaned as the door creaked open, the sound dragging along the corridor like a warning. Vi tensed, pushing to her feet, her stance shifting into something instinctive—guarded, ready.

You tilted your head and gave a small gesture with your hand—toward the figure standing just out of Vi's sight.

Powder.

She hesitated. Just for a second. And then she stepped forward, small and trembling, into the line of Vi's vision.

It was like the air collapsed in on itself.

"Powder?"

Vi's voice was calm, but there was a tremor beneath it—so slight you might've missed it if you didn't know her like you did. There was something tight in the way she said the name, something cautious, like she wasn't sure if speaking it too loud would make the vision in front of her vanish. Her stance didn't change, not yet. She just stood there, staring—completely still, all her fire and suspicion suddenly burned away into something raw and unspoken. Her eyes were locked on that small, trembling figure just inside the doorway, and for a long moment, nothing else seemed to exist in her world.

"Vi?" Powder's voice was barely audible—fragile, uncertain, like it might break if she tried to say anything more.

Vi took a step forward. Powder mirrored it.

And that was when you saw it. The mask Vi had worn began to crumble. She pressed her lips together, trying so hard to keep it in, to stay composed. But the moment her eyes softened, the moment the corner of her mouth trembled, you knew it was over. The walls were falling.

She swallowed hard, chest rising with a sharp inhale that caught in her throat. For a second, it looked like she might speak again, but nothing came out. Instead, a quiet sound escaped her—half gasp, half sob—and then she moved.

She ran.

"Oh, Pow-Pow..." Vi breathed, and it was like the words tore straight out of her soul.

She dropped to her knees the moment she reached her sister, her body folding like it couldn't carry the weight of everything she'd been holding in. Her arms wrapped around Powder in a desperate, crushing embrace—protective, terrified, overwhelmed. You took a step back, instinctively giving them space, because this moment wasn't yours. It was hers. Theirs.

And Powder... she didn't move at first. For a breathless heartbeat, she just stood there, stiff in Vi's arms, as if the contact didn't feel real—like it might be taken away any second. But then something inside her gave out. She collapsed forward into her sister, arms clinging tight around Vi's neck, fists gripping her prison uniform like it was the only thing anchoring her to the world.

She started to cry. Not softly, not gently. It was loud and guttural and real, the kind of crying only a child can do when they've been holding back for far too long. Her shoulders shook violently, and she buried her face into the crook of Vi's neck as if trying to disappear there, to go back to some safer place where the world hadn't torn them apart.

You stood frozen, your heart cracking wide open at the sight. You weren't even sure when you started holding your breath.

Vi held her like she was trying to piece her back together. Like if she just held tight enough, long enough, maybe none of it would've happened. Maybe this was all some awful nightmare, and she could finally wake up—with Powder safe in her arms, just like she was supposed to be.

Vi didn't let go for a long time. Her fingers curled into the fabric of Powder's clothes, clutching her like she was afraid someone might tear her away again. Powder was still shaking, her small frame trembling under the weight of everything she'd been holding back for three years. Her sobs had quieted into small, broken hiccups, but her grip hadn't loosened. Not even a little.

Eventually, Vi leaned back just enough to see her sister's face. She cupped Powder's cheeks with rough, calloused hands—thumbs brushing away the tear tracks that kept falling no matter how hard Powder tried to stop them.

"Look at you..." Vi murmured, voice hoarse, choked with emotion she couldn't quite swallow down. "You're so—" She blinked hard, like saying it might shatter her again. "You're so grown. What happened to my little sis who used to drag bombs around, huh?"

Powder let out a watery laugh, her lip trembling as she tried to smile. "She... kinda blew up the workshop."

Vi huffed a breath—half laugh, half disbelief—and shook her head. "Course she did."

They both laughed for a second. It wasn't light. It wasn't easy. But it was theirs. And it was real.

Vi's face softened again as she searched her sister's eyes. "I thought you were dead." she whispered, barely getting the words out. "I—I tried, Powder. I tried to get back to you, I swear, I—"

"I know..." Powder said quickly, cutting her off with a small nod. "I know, Vi. I thought you were dead too."

Vi exhaled hard, pressing her forehead against her sister's. "You don't know how many nights I dreamed about this. About you. I kept thinking... if I could just see you again, just once... I'd be okay. That everything I lost, it'd be worth it."

Powder looked down, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the hem of Vi's sleeve. "I changed a lot." she said quietly. "I'm not the same, Vi."

Vi leaned back, just enough to see her. "Good." she said. "You're not supposed to be the same, Powder. The world changed. You survived it. That doesn't make you broken, okay?"

"But you don't know what I did." Powder said, her voice shrinking, thick with guilt. "You don't know who I became."

Vi held her tighter. "Doesn't matter. You're my sister, you always were. I never stopped loving you, not for a second. You hear me?"

Powder finally met her eyes, the dam behind her gaze starting to crack again.

"I missed you, Vi... I missed you so much it hurt."

Vi choked on her next breath, the tears she'd been holding back finally slipping loose. She pulled Powder into her chest again, arms wrapped so tightly around her like she could shield her from the past, from the world, from everything.

"I'm here now, Pow-Pow." she whispered into her hair. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

You watched in silence.

It was all you could do—stand there, just outside the cell, your fingers curled tightly into the sleeves of your coat, as if clutching something could keep the emotion from spilling out. Your throat ached. Your chest felt like it had been split down the middle, cracked wide open by the weight of the scene in front of you.

Powder, weeping into Vi's arms. Vi, trembling as she held her sister like she was afraid to let go. It was everything you'd fought for—everything you'd risked—and yet, all you could do was stand there and try not to fall apart.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. They burned. But you blinked them away, forcing them back with every ounce of control you had left. Not now. Not here. You had to stay strong—for them. For these two broken girls who were trying, against all odds, to put themselves back together with nothing but an embrace and a name that hadn't been spoken in years.

There was pride in you. Quiet, blooming pride that warmed your chest like the first sunlight after too many cold nights. You'd done it. You'd brought them back to each other. Even in the damp rot of Stillwater, even in the shadow of everything they'd lost, you'd carved out a moment of healing. A piece of peace. Maybe not perfect. Maybe not clean. But real.

And yet—underneath the pride, curled in the corners of your heart—was fear. Not the kind that struck fast and loud, but the kind that lingered. Slow. Poisonous. The kind that whispered in the back of your mind even now: what if it's not enough?

What if bringing them together made everything worse?

Now that they knew the other was alive—now that they'd tasted what it meant to be together again—what would happen if something took that from them?

What would happen to Powder if Vi couldn't be healed? And what would Vi do if Silco got his claws back into Powder��twisted her mind, painted Vi as the enemy?

You wouldn't let that happen. You couldn't. You would burn the world down first.

But the fear was there, curling in your stomach like a sickness. The fear of loss. Of another loss. You'd already survived one betrayal—Silco's betrayal. That pain had gutted you, but you clawed your way through it. You'd buried the wreckage and kept walking.

But this?

Losing them? Losing your daughters.

You didn't know if you'd recover from that. They were the only things that kept your humanity intact, still made you remember that you were human and not a monster. If you lose them, you lose yourself.

Vi's sobs had quieted now. She was whispering something to Powder, too low for you to hear, cradling the girl's head against her shoulder. Powder nodded, still clinging, her face wet with tears. You knew, in that moment, you would die for either of them. Kill for them. Burn for them.

You already had.

And you would again.

You were just about to turn away. Just one step back into the hallway and you'd be out of sight—out of the moment. It wasn't that you didn't want to be there, but the intensity of it all was starting to eat at the edges of your composure. They deserved space. A chance to breathe in each other without your presence pressing on the moment. You needed space too—somewhere quiet where you could finally let go of the tears clawing at the back of your throat.

But then your boot scraped against the concrete. Just a small sound. A meaningless shift of weight. But in the thick silence of that cell, it might as well have been church bells announcing a funeral.

Powder stirred in Vi's arms. She turned, slowly, her cheeks streaked with drying tears, her eyes glassy and red. Her lip trembled slightly, and she blinked up at you like you were already slipping through her fingers.

"Where are you going?" she asked, voice fragile and wet, as if every word was hanging on a heartbeat.

You froze. Something about the way she said it—like you leaving might shatter whatever stability she had left—hit you so hard it took your breath away.

"I'm not going far, little one." you said, trying to keep your voice light, reassuring. You forced a smile, but it felt clumsy, like something stitched on instead of felt. "Just wanted to give you two some privacy. You know, family time."

But she didn't let it go. She didn't nod or look away. She just looked at you.

"But you're family too."

Oh, Powder...

You felt the words like a crack to the chest. You didn't even realize how tightly you were gripping your own hand until your knuckles started to ache. Because it wasn't just the words themselves—it was the way she said them. Like it was a truth. Like it was so obvious it didn't even need to be argued.

But even if Powder thought so, there was still Violet. She was still angry at you, and you would never allow yourself to make her uncomfortable. You loved your eldest daughter, even if she never loved you back.

You tilted your head slightly, trying to keep the smile alive despite the burning behind your eyes. "Powder, I..."

"She's right."

The voice was hoarse but steady.

You blinked, Vi was still on her knees, arms wrapped around her sister, but now her eyes were on you. Clear. Direct. Her expression wasn't hard like before. It was tired, but softer—unguarded in a way you hadn't seen before.

"You're family too."

The words felt like they echoed in the space between you. Not begrudging. Not half-hearted. Real.

You hadn't expected that. Not from Vi. Not after everything. After the fight. The silence. The distrust. But there she was, holding her sister like the world was ending, and still finding the clarity to reach out to you. To include you.

You didn't respond right away. Couldn't. Your throat clenched too tight to let anything through. You just nodded slowly, your lips pressing into a shaky line as your heart cracked wide open all over again—only this time, not from pain. This time, it was something warmer. Something softer. Something that felt like forgiveness. Like coming home. Like healing.

Your body moved before your mind caught up, legs pulling you forward in slow, uncertain steps. The cell felt heavier with every inch, like your chest was filling with cement, like you weren't sure you were even allowed in that moment. But you kept going—hesitant, small—like someone stepping into a sacred space they didn't dare disturb.

And then Powder shifted.

She didn't just make room—she welcomed you. Her small hands reached toward you, already pulling you in as if the idea of you not being there didn't make any sense. The moment your knees hit the cold floor beside them, she circled her arm around your ribs and tucked herself against you. Her head rested just over your heart, and you knew—she could hear it. The frantic rhythm pounding in your chest, too wild to hide. But she didn't say anything. She just closed her eyes and held on.

Then Vi moved too.

You weren't ready for her.

She leaned into you, her arms wrapping around both you and Powder in one quiet motion, and when you looked at her, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. But there was no anger there. No accusation. Just exhaustion... and something else. Something softer.

She smiled.

It was small and wobbly, like she was still learning how to do it again—but it was real. She smiled at you.

"You kept your promise." she whispered, voice hoarse with emotion. "Thank you."

And then she let her head fall against your chest, just beneath your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the weight of her resting there—not just physically, but emotionally. Trust. After everything.

You froze.

You didn't know what to do. Your arms hovered like they didn't quite belong to you. For a moment, you were terrified to move, like you might break something sacred if you so much as breathed the wrong way.

But then... it happened.

Like a spring wound too tight for too long, something inside you snapped loose. The first tear slipped down your cheek in silence. Then another. And another. Until the dam gave way and the flood came rushing in.

You cried. Loud, open, and unfiltered. Not the quiet, composed kind of crying you were used to hiding behind clenched teeth and steel nerves. This was real. Ugly. Human. You sobbed into the tops of their heads as you held them both—one on each side, each fragile and fierce in their own way—and wrapped your arms around them like you could fuse them to your bones.

Powder clung to you tighter.

Vi did too.

And there you were. Three souls broken in different ways, trying to hold each other together. On a dirty prison floor, in a forgotten cell, surrounded by silence and stone—but in that moment, it felt like the safest place in the world.

You realized something that perhaps both Silco and Vander had realized a long time ago.

Is there anything so undoing as a daughter?

[...]

5 months later

Days bled into weeks, and weeks bled into months. Time moved faster than you expected—slipping through your fingers like water—once you settled into the strange routine that had formed almost by accident. Powder had started visiting Vi every weekend under the guise of spending the day at the training warehouse, sharpening her aim and working on her explosives.

But really, those hours were spent within the concrete walls of Stillwater.

At first, the visits were reckless, improvised. But as they became more frequent, you and Powder began perfecting your little operation. Smuggling her into the prison during the dead hours of the night, when the guards swapped shifts and the world outside woke up, became almost second nature. You knew the blind spots, the quiet routes. You even had a system of signals to warn each other of movement. You'd become good at it. Too good, probably.

And the strangest part? It all felt... normal. The chaos of your past had softened at the edges, replaced by something steadier, something that almost resembled routine.

Powder was different inside the prison. Quieter, more thoughtful. She'd sit beside Vi and just listen—sometimes for hours. Other times, she'd chatter nervously, making jokes that didn't always land, but Vi would still give her that smile, the one that hinted at the girl she used to be. That smile made all the effort worth it.

Your own relationship with Vi shifted too. Slowly. Cautiously. The wall between you, thick and cracked, began to chip away. She started talking to you again—not just curt words or sharp glances, but real conversations. Of course, she was still furious about your involvement with Silco. That hadn't changed. She'd glare at you across the room, arms crossed, and demand—for the hundredth time—to know how the hell you could ever stand him.

"I mean, seriously." she said one night, voice dripping with disbelief. "He's not even hot."

You nearly choked on your own laughter. "That's what you're stuck on? His looks?"

Vi groaned and leaned back against the wall of her cell, dragging a hand down her face. "I just don't get it. The voice, the face, the creepy eye... What part of that made you think, 'Yep, that's the guy'?"

You shrugged, grinning. "You'll understand when you fall in love."

Vi's nose scrunched like you'd just said something offensive. "God, I hope not. Love's nothing but a damn headache." You were about to tease her for being so cynical, but something in her tone made you pause. And then she added, almost absentmindedly, "Especially with girls."

It took a moment for that to register. When it did, you blinked. "Girls, huh?"

Vi glanced at you, and for a split second, her expression tightened—like she hadn't meant to say it out loud. But then she rolled her eyes, like she couldn't be bothered to deny it. "Yeah, girls. Not that it matters. Relationships are a waste of time anyway."

But it did matter. Maybe not to her in that moment, but to you. It was one of the first honest things she'd shared with you since everything fell apart. And it made her feel more human again. More Vi. You didn't press it. You just letting the silence stretch out between you, comfortable this time.

"Powder told me about the time you two spent together with Silco..." Vi began, her voice uncertain and slightly afraid to finish her thought. "How she started to see you as her mother."

That conversation wasn't something you wanted to have, but it was important. Powder didn't remember her mother since she lost her when she was very young, but Violet? She did, and perhaps in her eyes, you were assuming a title that didn't belong to you. After all, being family was one thing, being a mother figure was another.

"Are you mad about that?"

"No." she quickly retorted. "Well, it's weird to hear her refer to you as 'mom,' but at the same time, it's not. Look... I can understand why she sees you that way, and I can't think of it as some kind of betrayal of our mother's memory. You acted like the mother she needed, and I'm truly grateful for that."

You tilted your head to the side as you watched her, your gaze serene and gentle.

"So what's bothering you, sweetheart?"

Vi didn't look at you when she opened her mouth. "I don't know if I can call you that."

You smiled and got up from where you were sitting on her bed and approached her. Her gaze still strayed from yours, so you lifted your hand to her cheek and gently forced her to look at you. She looked embarrassed, and in your opinion, she didn't need to; you understood her.

"If you don't want to call me that, you don't have to."

"But—"

"You're my daughter." you interrupted her firmly, but no less gently. "I would do anything for you and your sister, and that's all you need to understand." You pulled her into a hug, ignoring her grumbles; Violet wasn't one for physical displays of affection toward you. "I don't want you to forget your mother... her memories should stay with you forever, you hear?"

Violet nodded, and after a moment you felt her arms wrap around you. Reluctantly, but they still hugged you back. "Do you think your mother is still alive?"

"I don't know." you replied, resting your chin on the top of her head. "But I really hope so... I want to find out why she left me here."

Violet tightened her embrace. "There must be a reason."

"Yeah..."

And then, there was Viktor — tangled in the middle of this chaotic, spiraling routine you now called your life.

He flitted between projects and allegiances like a man possessed, and by now, it was clear: he was losing himself to this manic rhythm. His schedule made your head spin just thinking about it. Mornings with Jayce and his Hextech ambitions, afternoons buried in Singed's lab with Silco's shadow looming in the background, and nights—what little he had left of them—he spent with you, obsessively trying to crack the code of the cure.

You had no idea how he was even standing most days. He looked thinner, paler. Like the fire in him had turned to ash and caffeine. And yet, somehow, he kept going.

“Come on, Viktor, stab me!”

Your voice rang out far too casually for the words that had just left your mouth. You held the kitchen knife in his direction, fingers steady around the hilt, the blade angled just so that it caught the low laboratory light with a cold gleam. The poor scientist stood frozen in the corner, golden eyes wide with disbelief, looking like you had just sprouted a second head. Or worse—like you’d proposed something more absurd than a breach of scientific ethics.

His gaze flicked between the knife—a perfectly mundane one that had been slicing fruit not ten minutes ago—and your face, as though trying to figure out which part of this situation was more alarming.

“Have you gone mad?” he asked at last, voice tight with confusion but tinged with genuine concern. “What kind of request is that?”

You shrugged, completely unfazed. “You need to test the prototype, don’t you?”

Viktor let out a sharp breath through his nose and dragged a hand down his face, already regretting his life choices. He turned away, limping slightly as he walked past you toward his cluttered desk. His cane tapped softly on the floor.

You raised the knife a little again, half-teasing. “Oh come on… you know it won’t kill me.”

“True.” he muttered, pulling a stack of notes to the side and retrieving the heavy-bound lab journal. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I would still be stabbing you.”

Without warning, he swatted your hand with the thick cover of the journal, the gesture sharp but not painful. Still, you recoiled like he’d genuinely wounded you.

“Hey!”

“You deserved that.” he said dryly. “Maybe no one told you, but scientists don’t just go around stabbing their lab assistants.”

“Lab assistant?” you echoed, voice lilting with mock offense. “And here I was thinking we’d graduated to friendship by now. Honestly, Viktor. You’re so cold.”

You placed your free hand over your chest with a dramatic sigh, as though you’d been wounded—mortally, even. Your entire posture shifted into something theatrical and wounded, as if the betrayal ran deep.

He reached for the kettle, the scent of dried herbs rising with the steam. He poured the first cup carefully, the liquid a pale golden-green, fragrant and hot. Then he glanced toward the chair you always sat in—his version of a peace offering—and moved to set the cup in its usual place before filling his own.

“Stop being ridiculous... Sit, and drink your tea before it gets cold.”

You rolled your eyes—playfully, of course—but obeyed all the same. “It’s not like I asked you to stab me in the heart.” you grumbled, finally lowering the knife and walking over to take the tea.

He shot you a look over the rim of his cup. “You were far too enthusiastic for it to be anywhere else.”

You blew on your tea and muttered into the steam, “Just trying to speed up the process.”

“And I’m trying to avoid ending up in prison, thank you very much.”

Once you were settled, Viktor nudged the open journal slightly in your direction without a word. The gesture was small, thoughtless almost—but it caught your attention. You leaned in, glancing down at the neat, slanted handwriting sprawling across the pages in dark ink. His diagrams were precise, annotated with symbols you half-understood and small notations written in shorthand you were still learning to decipher.

He didn’t seem to notice how naturally he spoke when explaining the contents to you. Or maybe he did and simply didn’t care. He had a way of slipping into that quiet, focused tone when he talked through an idea—words spilling from his mouth not as a lecture, but like a conversation between equals. As if he wanted you to understand. As if he genuinely valued your insight, however flawed or chaotic it sometimes was.

You caught yourself watching him as he explained a theory on molecular stabilization—he simplified it, carefully choosing words he knew you’d follow without making it sound condescending. Somewhere along the way, you’d stopped being just another assistant in his lab. Somewhere, between the arguments and the experiments and the late nights filled with reckless theories and too much caffeine, you’d become something more.

And though he hadn’t said it out loud… gestures like this? Letting you read his raw notes, asking for your opinion on the unpolished parts of his research, offering you tea without prompting?

That meant something. Even if he was too damn stubborn to admit it.

But there was another layer to Viktor's chaos—a secret one. He'd become something like your double agent. Every time he returned from Singed's lab, he gave you updates, no matter how small. Most of the time, his voice would be low and cautious, as if afraid the walls were listening. And honestly, with how deep you all were in this mess, you wouldn't have been surprised if they were.

"The research is... progressing." he had told you a few nights ago, his voice tight, face drawn in that exhausted way that made him look ten years older. "Not well. Not ethically. But progressing."

You didn't have to ask what he meant. You already knew. You could see it in the way he avoided your gaze when he said it.

They were in the testing part: human test. That part didn't surprise you, not really. It was Singed. Ethics were always an afterthought with him—if they even existed in the first place. But hearing it come from Viktor, seeing how he delivered the information with clenched teeth and a tired soul... it twisted something in your gut.

He claimed to be against it, strongly, vehemently, even. But when the time came, when Singed crossed that line, Viktor hadn't stopped it..

The subjects were people pulled from the Undercity, people who wouldn't be missed. They were promised healing, promised something better. None of them survived. The tests were brutal—bodies turning inside out, cells breaking down under the sheer strain of the serum. But in the wreckage of all that death, there was progress. A cruel, unforgiving kind. The time before the subjects died increased—fifteen seconds.

That damn old man had managed to increase the limit.

You hated it. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was wrong. But the bitter truth? The data from those experiments had helped with your own work. Somehow, in that twisted tangle of science and suffering, Viktor had managed to isolate a new pathway—one that made your own formula for the cure a fraction more stable.

The price had been human lives. Real people. And yet here you were, making notes by candlelight, using the data they died for.

Viktor knew it too. He never said it aloud, but his guilt was visible in everything he did—the way his hands trembled sometimes when he handed you a vial, the way he rubbed his face like he could scrub away the memories. He was unraveling at the edges, and deep down, you worried that when he finally came apart, there'd be nothing left to save.

And still, neither of you stopped. Because progress, no matter how bloody, was still progress.

[...]

You were standing at the door of the cell, posture steady, arms crossed behind your back in the typical stance of an Enforcer on duty. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon—the kind you'd lived through more times than you cared to count—watching the minutes crawl by while you guarded the same cell, in the same hallway, with the same sense of unease constantly simmering under your skin. But this time, something felt... warmer. Less clinical.

Powder and Vi were asleep on the narrow cot, tangled up like kids. Powder was completely sprawled on top of Vi, her small frame rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, her face slack with exhaustion. Vi's arm was curled protectively around her little sister's back, and despite the cold cement and the dull buzz of fluorescent lights, the moment felt strangely safe.

Earlier that day, Powder had brought a few of her gadgets—colorful, gleaming little bombs shaped like toys and nightmares—and eagerly showed them to Vi. Her hands shook a little as she explained the mechanics, the chemical timing, the intricacies of the trigger systems. She was proud—so damn proud—and you saw it in her eyes, like she was that little girl again, desperate to be useful.

Of course, you'd made sure every last one of the explosives was deactivated before she'd even walked through the prison doors. You weren't about to risk someone getting blown to pieces inside a high-security facility, no matter how adorable Powder's grin had been when she showed them off.

You were just about to clear your throat and rouse them—Powder wasn't supposed to be here overnight, and the sun was already beginning to set behind the tall windows—when you heard the heavy, uneven footsteps echoing down the corridor. You turned your head sharply to the left, instantly alert. An Enforcer, tall and broad-shouldered, rounded the corner with a sluggish gait, his boots hitting the ground like he was dragging cinderblocks with each step.

Your pulse kicked up slightly.

Without missing a beat, you reached behind you and gave the iron bars of the cell a sharp knock—three quick, deliberate hits. The sound echoed through the hallway like a signal flare. Vi's eyes snapped open almost immediately, sharp and knowing. She didn't need you to say a word—your fingers flicked subtly in the direction of the floor, and Vi, gods bless her, understood the sign: "Hide"

She nudged Powder gently, whispering something into her ear as the younger girl stirred, groggy and confused. But the moment Vi mentioned hiding, Powder moved—sliding off the cot and ducking underneath it in one smooth, practiced motion. There was barely time to straighten the thin sheet before the other Enforcer stopped in front of the cell.

He peered inside, eyes scanning lazily over Vi, who had resumed her usual position on the cot, now glaring up at him like he'd just interrupted her dream about punching Silco in the throat. With one hand, she flipped him off—dead center, no hesitation. Her expression was pure teenage defiance, and it was honestly impressive how quickly she shifted back into that façade.

The Enforcer just rolled his eyes with a scoff, clearly used to her bullshit. Then he turned to you.

"There's someone at reception. Says they need to speak with you. Now."

"And who is it?" you asked, your tone clipped, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice.

The Enforcer scoffed. "Do I look like a damn messenger boy to you? Go find out yourself. I'm staying here to watch the troublemaker."

You clenched your jaw but didn't argue. "Fine." you muttered before turning toward the cell. Vi was already on her feet, arms crossed, watching the exchange with narrowed eyes and that familiar spark of attitude lighting her face.

"Keep your mouth shut." you told her, pointing a firm finger in her direction. "You're my headache, and I'd rather not hear someone else whining about you while I'm gone."

Vi's response came sharp and loaded with fake venom. "Oh, go fuck yourself."

It was part of the game now—this act between the two of you whenever someone else was around . The constant need to play your roles because one wrong word could crack the fragile arrangement you'd fought to protect.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and turned away, walking off with brisk, purposeful steps, more to get away from the situation than anything else. All you wanted was to deal with whoever the hell was waiting at reception and get back before anything fell apart. The worst-case scenarios were already playing in your head—Powder getting discovered, the Enforcer getting nosy, Vi losing patience and throwing a punch.

But the moment you turned the corner and laid eyes on the person waiting for you, every thought stopped in its tracks.

It was Viktor.

Viktor, standing just inside the main hall, visibly out of breath, his hand gripping his cane tighter than usual, and his brow drawn low in that way that always meant something was wrong. Something big.

And this was the first time he had come to you in person. He always sent letters, without a return address. The connection between you two was not to be discovered.

He looked up at you as you approached, his eyes locking with yours—and for a second, he didn't speak. Didn't need to. His expression told you more than words ever could.

"Your face..." you said slowly, your voice quiet, unsure. "What happened?"

"Where is your daughter?" Viktor's voice came quickly—too quickly. His usual calm cadence was frayed, tinged with something just shy of panic. "The youngest?"

Your brows furrowed instantly. "With me. Why?"

For a brief second, his shoulders dropped just slightly, and he let out the smallest breath of relief as he leaned against the cold concrete wall behind him, his hand still gripping the top of his cane. That tiny moment of composure didn't last.

"There was an attack at The Last Drop."

Part 28

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Did you really think things would stay happy for so long? Oh come on, you know me already. Nothing better for a reunion than an attempted death… oh my, who said that? In this story, I think we can say that Viktor is part of the family.

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ireadyabooks · 3 months ago

Text

Celebrate AANHPI Heritage Month with I read YA!

At I read YA, we are committed to uplifting, supporting, and celebrating our Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander creators, readers, and community. Join us in celebrating this special moment this May by checking out some of the outstanding books below from some of our AANHPI creators for you to enjoy this month and all year round!

Just Another Meet Cute by Jenn P. Nguyen

Boy saves girl stuck on a disastrous hike. What could go wrong? So. Much.

When seventeen-year-old Nina Riley gets saved by a super cute Knight-in-Faded-Khakis just as she lands in an embarrassingly sticky situation during the most disastrous hike known to man, she wasn’t exactly looking for a meet cute. She really just needed some peace and quiet from her complicated family. Unfortunately, he disappears before she can properly thank him or get his number. All she has is his name (Ian Nguyen) and a navy jacket with a dog keychain, a gym card, and laundromat receipt. But a meet cute is a meet cute. And armed with years of watching Veronica Mars and a techy cousin, it should be simple enough for Nina to find the boy of her dreams, right? But when she finally tracks him down, he's different than she thought —right down to his name. Ryan is just as cute as she remembers, but the chemistry isn't there like it was before. After a few dates, she meets Ryan's family: his sweet grandma, his enthusiastic sisters, and his twin brother—Ian.

Start reading Just Another Meet Cute now!

Rosewood: A Midsummer Meet Cute by Sayantani DasGupta

New York Times bestselling Sayantani DasGupta brings her trademark wit and insight to this bright and funny Sense and Sensibility retelling!

Eila Das is used to following her head, rather than her heart. When she meets Rahul at Rosewood, a summer camp where campers are being scouted for the hit Bridgerton-like TV show, she experiences…feelings. Between the drama of the show and the drama of the camp, Eila will have to keep her wits about her to make it through the summer. But when she has to choose between her head and her heart, what will she do?

Start reading Rosewood: A Midsummer Meet Cute now!

What a Desi Girl Wants by Sabina Khan

Mehar hasn't been back to India since she and her mother moved away when she was six. Her father made it clear that she was not his priority when he chose not to come to the United States with them.

But when her father announces his engagement to socialite Naz, Mehar reluctantly agrees to return for the wedding. Maybe she and her father can finally heal their broken relationship. And either way, her father is Indian royalty, and the famil home is a palace--the wedding is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime affair.

Once she arrives in India, Mehar meets Sufiya, her grandmother's assistant. Though they come from totally different worlds, their friendship slowly starts to blossom into something more . . . Mehar thinks.

Meanwhile, Mehar's dislike for Naz and her social media influencer daughter, Aleena, deepens. She can tell the two of them are just using her father for his money. Mehar's starting to think that putting a stop to this wedding might be the best thing for everyone involved.

But what happens when telling her father the truth about Naz and Aleena means putting her relationship with Sufiya at risk?

Mehar knows what she wants. Making it happen is a whole other story.

Start reading What a Desi Girl Wants now!

K-Pop Confidential by Stephan Lee

Candace Park knows a lot about playing a role. For most of her life, she's been playing the role of the quiet Korean girl who takes all AP classes and plays a classical instrument, keeping her dreams of stardom-and her obsession with SLK, K-pop's top boyband-to herself. She doesn't see how a regular girl like her could possibly become one of those K-pop goddesses she sees on YouTube. Even though she can sing. Like, really sing.

So when Candace secretly enters a global audition held by SLK's music label, the last thing she expects is to actually get a coveted spot in their trainee program. And convincing her strict parents to let her to go is all but impossible ... although it's nothing compared to what comes next. Under the strict supervision of her instructors at the label's headquarters in Seoul, Candace must perfect her performance skills to within an inch of her life, learn to speak Korean fluently, and navigate the complex hierarchies of her fellow trainees, all while following the strict rules of the industry. Rule number one? NO DATING, which becomes impossible to follow when she meets a dreamy boy trainee. And in the all-out battle to debut, Candace is in danger of planting herself in the middle of a scandal lighting up the K-pop fandom around the world.

If she doesn't have what it takes to become a perfect, hair-flipping K-pop idol, what will that mean for her family, who have sacrificed everything to give her the chance? And is a spot in the most hyped K-pop girl group of all time really worth risking her friendships, her future, and everything she believes in?

Start reading K-Pop Confidential now!

I Kick and I Fly by Ruchira Gupta

On the outskirts of the Red Light District in Bihar, India, fourteen-year-old Heera is living on borrowed time until her father sells her into the sex trade to help feed their family and repay his loans. It is, as she's been told, the fate of the women in her community to end up here. But watching her cousin, Mira Di, live this life day in and day out is hard enough. To live it feels like the worst fate imaginable. And after a run-in with a bully leads to her expulsion from school, it feels closer than ever.

But when a local hostel owner shows up at Heera's home with the money to repay her family's debt, Heera begins to learn that fate can change. Destiny can be disrupted. Heroics can be contagious.

It's at the local hostel for at risk girls that Heera is given a transformative opportunity: learning kung fu with the other girls. Through the practice of martial arts, she starts to understand that her body isn't a an object to be commodified and preyed upon, but a vessel through which she can protect herself and those around her. And when Heera discovers the whereabouts of her missing friend, Rosy, through a kung fu pen pal in the US, she makes the decision to embark on a daring rescue mission to New York in an attempt to save her.

Start reading I Kick and I Fly now!

The Great Destroyers by Caroline Tung Richmond

Blood, sweat, and death. Welcome to the Pax Games.

Jo Linden was born into a world where wars are won with giant mechanical soldiers and the nuclear bomb was never invented. Yet the Cold War still rages, and international rivalries between democracy and communism are now fought at the Pax Games, an Olympic-style competition that pits young pilots of mechas against each other. The USSR has beaten the US in nearly every game since its inception, and in the 1963 Games, the US is desperate for a win. Because it's more than just the Games at stake. Premier Khrushchev will be attending, and after, he and President Kennedy are slated to sign a peace accord stabilizing the war in Vietnam-and their volatile relationship.

Raised in her father's mecha repair shop, Jo knows more than anyone about piloting. She's also the most unlikely pick for Team USA since she's a virtually unknown fighter. So when she's invited at the last minute to compete, she jumps at it. This could be the only chance to save her family's home from debt collectors. All eyes are on Jo from the moment she arrives. But as fighters start dying in the arena, it's suddenly clear that it's more than the usual Pax Games, and Jo finds herself drawn into a deadly political plot. And if she can't figure out the truth, it might mean the annihilation of everything.

In a global arms race between superpowers, playing out in violent games that only humanity could create, comes a chilling story of clashing titans, ruthless competition, freedom, and the girl caught in the middle of it all.

Start reading The Great Destroyers now!

#I read YA #ya books #AANHPI Month #AANHPI books #AANHPI readers #AANHPI authors #Just Another Meet Cute #Jenn P. Nguyen #Rosewood #Sayantani DasGupta #What a Desi Girl Wants #Sabina Khan #K-Pop Confidential #Stephan Lee #I Kick and I Fly #Ruchira Gupta #The Great Destroyers #Caroline Tung Richmond

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chrome-barkz-aac · 29 days ago

Note

Hi! I volunteer in scouting UK with kids aged 6-8, 8-10 and 10-14. (three different sections)

One of my personal focuses has been working on the disability badges with them. As part of this we talked about different ways to communicate, and I tried to explain AACs to them. The trouble is I have a feeling I made it too complicated for them to understand.

Would you have any recommendations on how to explain this to these age groups?

I want to make sure they will grow up learning to respect disabled people. Like many places, there is so much ignorance about disabilities and I just want to make a difference to them and the people they will meet as they grow.

ok first of all, thats really cool (and sounds like fun) work that you're doing!

i actually haven't explained my AAC to young children before, but i have been told that i have a knack for explaining complex topics in biology in simple ways so i will do my absolute best.

(side note: if anyone here has experience explaining AAC to kids, i would totally love to hear it, what worked or didn't work, etc.)

maybe brainstorm with the kids about a solution to not being able to talk - like let them 'invent' the concept of AAC themselves. i used to do that false problem - solution thing when tutoring chemistry before i lost my voice and it helped people stay engaged and think creatively about stuff. (despite what anyone says, creativity is absolutely necessary for STEM)

chances are, theyre going to come up with a LOT of different solutions. i would put emphasis on that a lot of these already exist as no/low tech AAC - like writing, sign language*.

i wouldn't try to explain the difference between low/no/high tech AAC, rather that there is technology that helps some people to speak, if youre introducing high tech. something as simple as "you press a button and the machine says what you want it to say"

i think the biggest thing to drive home is that however someone communicates is deserving of respect, but i figure yall are already doing that with the disability badge lolz.

back in elementary school we had a series of days in p.e. where they would model different disabilities by making a simple activity harder to do (e.g. the one i really remember was having to tie shoes with gardening gloves on to mimic dyspraxia - obvs they didnt tell us what dyspraxia was - and i remember it because i likely have some form of difficulty with motor skills myself and i started crying because i couldnt do it with the gloves even though everyone else could - albeit with difficulty)

the point of the exercises was to foster compassion for people who move and act in ways that we might not understand on the get go.

so on that note maybe a quick activity where you have to tell someone something REALLY important but you can't speak. so you have to use gestures, writing, anything like that. maybe make a fake low tech aac board for them to use - nothing beats needing to communicate and not knowing where your words are. (obvs im not saying to stress your scouts out on purpose)

this was a really fun question to answer tbh! i hope something good happens to you today!

chrome

*caveat - sign language isn't a type of AAC on its own, as it is its own language with a culture, but it is commonly used as a supplement to AAC.

#chrome barkz #asks are always welcome

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demiesworld · 2 years ago

Note

The toji eating out reader was HELLA good😍 maybe you could do one for gojo? Please?

EAT IT TILL I FAINT! | satoru gojo

☆ — pairing: satoru gojo x black!chubby!fem!reader

☆ — contents: nsfw, oral (f receiving), pussyeater!gojo, daddy kink, blindfold, dirty talking, overstimulation, dumbification, squirting, fingering, multiple orgasms, face-sitting, just the usual filth

☆ — notes: reader is female and she is black. i wrote this with a black reader in mind. reader's pronouns are she/her. this shit is gonna be like a water park so get your floaties ready. title came from megan thee stallion's "eat it" which i was listening to while writing this lmao

You and Satoru had been dating for several months before he wanted to officially make you his girlfriend. The chemistry you two had was strong and Satoru knew you were the one for him. You were a gorgeous woman, a thick and chubby one at that, and you didn't shy away from wearing clothes that would show off your figure. Satoru liked to see you in body hugging dresses, specifically short ones to show off your thighs, and in denim shorts that had the roundness of your ass looking phenomenal. He couldn't resist the temptation of squeezing your ass or groping your thighs whenever you two are out in public or even at home.

While you and Satoru had already had sex around a month into dating, one thing that Satoru hadn't done for you was eat you out. He wanted for you to experience it, however you would decline his efforts and just get him to finger you instead. So when one night after you came out of the shower fresh and clean, ready to go to bed, he popped with the question.

"Why won't you let me eat your pussy?"

You visibly flinched when he asked, but answered anyways, "Because I just don't want for you to do that Satoru."

He moved from laying down on his stomach to kneeling on the bed. Satoru's hands rest on your knees when he pushes his body between your plump thighs and then blurts out, "Have you ever had your pussy eaten out before?" His piercing ocean blue eyes locked on your deep brown ones.

Your eyes look away from his stare, and like a child cornered by their parent you whisper, "Well... no... but-"

Satoru abruptly interjects you from continuing, sassily sucking his teeth, "Tch. You can't just tell me 'no' because you've never had your pussy ate before, baby. You gotta try new things to see if you'll like it instead of outright saying 'no'."

You were about to argue with him, but Satoru stuns you by pressing his lips to yours. You could taste the faint linger of candied oranges on his lips. It was a reflex for you to kiss him back, parting your pillowy lips and curl your fingers to the undercut. He mutters a husky, "fuck" before he's ravishing your mouth. Your boyfriend's tongue slid into your mouth and began to explore your cavern with vivid familiarity.

In the midst of a break, when your lips are away from each other and you are just gasping the other's air, you breathily asked, "Satoru what are you doing?"

He briefly pecks your lips after you asked the question. Then he answers panting, "I'm, ha, going to show you how it feels." Satoru kisses your plump lips chastely and then reaches his hand in between your fleshy things.

His fingers stroke your puffy folds through the thin layer of panties you're wearing. There's a wetness forming underneath the fabric and Satoru feels his cock straining in his pants. You get excited so easy, from things as simple as a kiss from him. He runs his fingers up and down your dampening cunt listening to you let out soft gasps and sweet moans. You grind your hips towards his hand as you pull him in closer for a deeper kiss. Satoru hooks his fingers on your panties and pulls them to the side, anchoring the string on the cleft of your fat pussy. The cold air that blows on your slick pussy causes you to shudder and hiss from it.

"Satoruuuu... fuck...." you moan out.

The white-haired man puts two fingers inside of your tight pussy at once and it stings from the stretch of it. You whimper on your lover's lips when his slender digits rapidly pump your entrance. Satoru's teeth gnaws on your bottom lip, then tugs on the plump appendage until he lets go of it wetly. He looks into your glossy brown eyes as he fucks his fingers, curling them upwards and stimulating your sweet spot with them.

A gasp is pulled out of you when you feel the tips of them touching your spot. You vigorously roll your hips forward to his fingers and toss your head back as you whine out his name. "Satoruuu.. baby you're gonna make me- c-cum!" Your toes curl on the bed, and your legs begin to tremble as he speeds up and savagely stimulates your sweet spot. You threw your head forward and look down at his two slender fingers, disappearing and reappearing into your heat. Your stomach tightens into a knot as you watch the action go. Satoru's forehead presses against yours as his ocean blue eyes stare at your erotic pleasure-filed faces. He pushes his fingers in deeper, doesn't move them but instead wiggles it against your sweet spot. His thumb flicking at your clit when he does so. At these actions, you frantically kick your legs onto the bed and whimper hysterically, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Satoru! Sato-Satoruuuu!" You let out a scream when you cum all over his fingers. Your cunt spasms around them and slick covers the long pale digits.

"Mhm, mhm, that's a good girl." Satoru plants a gentle kiss to your sweet lips. He murmurs approvingly, "That's a good girl." He pecks your lips again then he asks, "Now would you let me have a taste?"

You release a shaky breath, but you nod your head to his request. "It was how you found your body positioned over Satoru's face. Your pussy above his mouth, and he was laying there on his back just waiting for you to sit down on his lips. His large gentle hands were stroking your hips as you were still uncomfortable with doing something like this to Satoru.

He could sense your hesitation, which is the reason he asked, "Are you okay baby?"

You shake your head and your thighs quiver. You reply to him, "I'm scared I might suffocate you Satoru."

"Tch, baby you won't hurt me. Listen... if you turn out to like it a lot, you can ride my face." He rests a hand on your thick thigh, caressing your smooth skin in circles. Satoru watches as your eyes shift over to the nightstand where his blindfold is at then look down at him. "What's wrong pretty girl?"

You don't respond to him; you lean over and reach to grab his blindfold and play with it in your hand. Your brown eyes glance at his, every second before you finally gave in.

"I want for you to wear this, w-while I'm doing it... please?" The last word comes out in a squeak, and Satoru finds it adorable.

He affectionately smiles as he carefully takes the blindfold out from your grasp and puts it around his head. His sight is immediately black, and he couldn't see you anymore, though he could feel you still hovering above him. The taste of your pussy is just inches away from his lips. Satoru swallows in anticipation of it, and licks his suddenly dry lips with his tongue. The tightness in his pants is painful, though not as painful as waiting for you to sit on his face.

You inhale sharply, then exhale. "Okay," you mutter to yourself, "I'm about to lower myself down o-on your mouth Satoru." You shut your eyes and look up at the ceiling as you slowly drop your pussy down onto your boyfriend's mouth. "J-Just please b-be gentle- hm!" You jolt when you feel his tongue lap at your slit languidly. "Satoru, ha, be gentle, please!"

Satoru's hands firmly grasp your round ass and yank you closer to his mouth. The first swipe of his tongue tasting your delicious nectar drove him insane. He was sucking on your fat folds, and rubbing them together with his lips. He lets them go with a wet smack before repeating the action again and again, until your slick is drenching his lips. Your back arches forward and your hand reaches down in between your thighs to tug on Satoru's hair.

"Ahh! Satoru, fuck! Oh my god!" You cry out and look down at the blindfolded male in a sensual awe, "W-What are you do-ING!" You squeak when he slithers his tongue inside of your heat and was wiggling the appendage around. You choke on a moan, clenching your pussy around his tongue as your slick covered his reddened face. "Satoru! Oh, Satoruu!"

He gave your ass a hard smack while he fucked his tongue inside of your gummy walls. Your body twitches upon hearing the "mwahs" of Satoru kissing your pussy, and the sounds of his spitting on it before he eats you out like you were his last meal. Your mouth goes slack and you tighten your grip in his hair. "D-Daddyyyy!" You whine out, rocking your hips against his tongue. "Daddy you're gonna make me cum again! Hm!"

Satoru slid his tongue into your entrance and moved his face close enough for his nose to be rubbing against your clit. He shook his head side to side and the intense wriggling of his head brought you to your next orgasm. Your stomach felt tight for a moment until you released all over Satoru's handsome face. Your essence squirting out in a stream and dampening the blindfold he was wearing. You were writhing throughout it, and wailing out his name in high-pitched moans.

"Satoru! Satoru! Satoru!"

"Hah.. hah.. oh fuck, god you taste so good baby." He compliments, then reaches his hand up to pull the blindfold off of his eyes. You looked down and observed his current state. He was panting heavily underneath you; his white hair sticking to his forehead and a thin sheen of your slick covering half of his face. You wanted to cum again by the erotic sight of him. "Think you can go a few more times?" His mouth kisses you tenderly on your inner thigh. "Mwah, can you give me some more baby?"

"Yes daddy, fuck daddy, can I-" You wanted to ask if you could sit on his face again, but you got shy.

Satoru licks your brown skin and gingerly kisses it. "Hmm... you don't have to ask to take a seat baby. Just go ahead and sit down." He lays his head down on the pillow whilst his hands are caressing your fleshy thighs. He rasps, "Sit on daddy's face baby."

You couldn't explain why that unlocked something within you. All you could do was grasp Satoru by his hair and promptly sit your pussy down on his face. Your dazed eyes looking into his own as he was devouring your pussy nastily. You whimpered when his mouth was sucking on your clit and alternating with quick flickers of his tongue. A gasp shoots through your mouth, and you bite down on your bottom lip still maintaining the eye contact. Satoru hums against your throbbing nub, wrapping his arms over you thighs and narrowing his blue orbs up at you.

Your hips gently rock forward and you desperately mewl, "Daddy your t-tongue! Fuck, keep doing w-what you're doing with it!" You squeal when you feel his fingers suddenly slide into your entrance and pump fervidly in your slick walls. A strangled noise comes out of you, and you let go of his hair to lean over the headboard and twist your hips agitatedly. "Hm! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuCK!" you feel the room shatter as your pussy spasms around his fingers. You cover your mouth with your hand as tears fall down your cheeks and you squirt all over Satoru's face again. "Hmm! Hm! Mm!"

Satoru presses his fingers flat against your sweet spot, and the action causes you to hiss and snarl at him. "Fuuuck! Oh fuck Daddy you're so fucking good for me!" Your voice then breaks down into a whimper, "Pl-Please don't fucking stop!" You go on to ramble about how good he is, and not to stop while he pushes your body off of him and lays you gently on your back.

"Oh, please Daddy, fuck," You babble, your legs trembling and shaky hands wrapping around Satoru's broad shoulders as you lower him down for a filthy, tongue kiss. He is just as drunk off of you as you are him. The kiss is literally just his tongue lazily lapping at yours breathing in your oxygen. Soft moans passing in between quick breaths.

His hand goes in between your thighs and he draws quick circles on your puffy clit. You squeeze one eye shut, and arch your back while squirming and whimpering. Your chubby wet pussy is so obnoxiously loud with the noises it makes. The squelches are raunchy.

Satoru is speaking in a rushed, soft tone as he rubs on your clit. "It feels good when I eat it yeah?" You nod your head and hum in approval. "I know it feels good baby." Satoru kisses you intensely before plucking his lips away. "Now lay back beautiful... Daddy's not done with his dessert."

You lay down on your back, and Satoru asks for you to hold your legs up to your shoulders. Your knees are pressed against your chest and his head is in between your thighs. You wiggle your hips towards his mouth, biting down on the corner of your lip as you do so. Satoru smirks at your newfound interest. He spreads your puffy folds apart and sticks out his long pink tongue. You arch your back up from the bed, and your toes curl when his appendage slithers into your slick abused walls with little resistance. You could see stars in your vision and your brown eyes go cross as you're fucked into another state of ecstasy.

"Haahhhhh~ Sato- ruuuuu~" You coo out.

He goes to town on your swollen cunt. Satoru's tongue is like magic as it works its way back and forth in your gummy hole. You're babbling out words, "Yes Daddy," "Don't stop," "Oh god," and letting out cute little squeaks. He slides his tongue out after collecting some of your cum on it then spits it back onto your throbbing clit. He slurps on your hardened nub along with putting three fingers into your heat. He dives them inside and curls them upwards against your sweet spot.

Satoru grinds his erection against the bed, humping it while he eats you out. A low moan courses through his mouth at the friction he receives. The white-haired male's eyes roll into the back of his head as he jerks his hips forward and promptly cums inside of his pants. He feels his hot cum drench his underwear and smearing inside of it. After he cums, Satoru moans onto your nub. He pops his glossy lips off of your clit. His fingers quicken their speed.

"That's a good girl baby, good fucking girl. I'm gonna spell my name on this nice sweet pussy. Hmm, fuck, I don't think I can get enough of it."

Your stomach tightens up, and another crash of lightning overwhelms you. Satoru howls, "Yes baby! Yes baby! Give it to me! Give it to me!" Your body violently trembles on the bed when you squirt for him one last time. He laps up the streams that you put out with his tongue. Satoru, then, suckles on your drooping wet folds, giving them twirls of his tongue and gentle nibbles of his teeth. "So good." His tender lips kiss your clit then goes to suckle on the overly sensitive nub. Satoru lets out heavy pants after sucking on your clit until he's diving his head back on it for more.

"Ugh, ahh, D-Daddy... fuck, hell Daddy... too much! T-Too muc-AHHH!!" You're startled when you briefly go through a dry spell of an orgasm and your cunt spasms.

Satoru finally releases his mouth from your pussy and he backs his head away from it to assess the damage. Damn your pussy looked fucked out. Your folds were glistening from your cum, and Satoru's spit. Your hole was fluttering as it was softening up from the torment he put it through. Then your clit was perky and swollen from him sucking on it like a straw.

Your boyfriend lifted his head up to you, his pretty brown and chubby girlfriend, then crawls on top of your body. He kisses you sweetly on your lips, letting you have another taste of your own cum. You lazily return the kiss, and let your legs go limp at his sides. Satoru swallows down your soft pleasured sighs. His right hand grope at your fleshy waist and left one rubs on your round breast. His index and thumb pinching at your nipple.

"Thank you, mwah, baby for giving me a chance." Satoru then looks you in the eye, "That didn't feel too bad now did it?"

You shake your head, smiling contently, "N-No... it felt really good. I-I didn't know I was going to like it that m-much."

He chuckles and lightly squeezes your breast, "Next time, now you know not to say 'no' to something you haven't experienced yet. Silly." He playfully flicks your nose and lovingly pecks the pout that shows on your lips. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You're just too cute baby."

"You are r-right though... hmph... can we take a clean up Da- Satoru?" You almost let the term you called him earlier slip out.

Satoru grins and pretends he didn't caught on to that, but agrees to your request. "Yes we can clean up baby."

☆ — notes: ....i think i just came while writing this.... lmk what you think of this. reblog pls!

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x black reader #gojo x black y/n #gojo x chubby reader #satoru x black reader #satoru x chubby reader #gojo x reader

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redsrooftopprincess · 10 months ago

Text

Pumpkin Sugar (Part 1)

Raphael x GN!Reader - Established Relationship

Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

Based on this ask by @gornackeaterofworlds

More of a question to expand on than a detailed request, but would raph help a teacher reader grade papers?? Would he get invested in gossip on the kids??

I was zoning out and somehow thought about elementary school teacher readers, coming back to the lair with papers to grade, Donnie getting angry over the lesson plans you have to use, etc. And then, like always, raph thoughts(I am unbelievably gushy to raph x lil sweet cheery readers) Being oh so sleepy tired but still having work to do. Grading papers, getting activities printed and cut, weekly plans. I'd like to imagine he helps to get you to sleep faster, all the while listening to the venty yapping about which kids are troublemakers

Hi gornack! I hope you are feeling well. ♥️

Sorry this took so long. I want you to know that this started out as a simple fluffy fic, but Red disagreed. He wanted to make you smile.

I'm going to be splitting this into 4 parts (+ an epilogue) to make it easier to read because I accidentally went over the character limit in my notes app *twice*. I wasn't aware you could accidentally write a whole ass fic, but here we are. 😅

Special thanks to @the-cauldron-witch . The best brainstorming buddy I could honestly ask for. Could not have written this without you. 😁

"Come on, babe, please?"

You sigh, whining, "Raph..."

"I gotta head out early, you'll be asleep by the time I get back," he pleaded. He was only working a half night, but he had to leave right at sunset and head across town, so he wouldn't be home until well after 1:00 am, and you had school in the morning.

It had been a long day, and it still wasn't over yet.

You really did like your job. The kids were great, even when they misbehaved it wasn't their fault. There were just too many of them and not enough of you. You couldn't watch everybody all the time, but you still had to try. Third grade was a lot. Especially when you were managing 27 kids (you're grateful, you have colleagues managing 40+, and it's a fucking zoo).

Still, you tried to make things fun for them. Halloween is tomorrow, and you don't want to do the traditional boring "spooky" theme. So, you've decided to teach an entire class of 8-9 year olds a little bit about applied chemistry.

You were actually really excited! You'd picked up a bunch of foam pumpkins at the dollar store, which were currently being dragged in a cart behind you. You were planning on carving them into jack o'lanterns and teaching the kids how to make elephant toothpaste to ooze out of the holes. It's was going to be the most beautiful chaos, and with any luck, a memorable experience.

There was only one problem, you'd been dealing with meetings and trainings all week and unable to actually carve the damn pumpkins. Today there was an outage in part of the building, so you had to wait two hours to use the one copier available, and by the time you walked out you had zero gas left in the tank. You wanted to go home and finish your work so you could go to bed.

You reach the top of the stairs, exiting the subway at street level. The lair is literally in the opposite direction. You look south, towards your apartment.

"Please?" He asks again, his voice softening. You haven't seen him in days and you can hear in his voice that it's taking as much of a toll on him as it is you. "I'll help you with your school shit, whatever, I just... I gotta see you. Please?"

You sigh and turn around, heading north. You miss him, too.

...

He meets you at the door to the elevator, and despite your exhaustion, you can't help but smile. He had that effect. Comfort, safety, peace, love... Raphael is Home. And the moment you step inside his arms all of your tension melts away. Almost.

He picks you up in his arms and squeezes you tightly, swinging you gently back and forth as he buries his nose in your hair. He breathes you in and grins, chuckling quietly as you squeeze him back and press your face against his neck.

"What're you laughing at?" you ask, suspicious. He was way more... something... than normal... you're not entirely sure what. You raise your head with your eyes narrowed.

"Nothin'," he says, kissing you sweetly, "just happy to see you." Your eyes narrow further, but this seems to satisfy you. You kick your legs and whine and he sets you down.

Picking up the crate and carrying it casually under one arm (though, to be fair, the pumpkins are made of foam), he gestures you first into the elevator and follows behind. He takes your hand pretty much immediately, "So what're we working on?"

"Pumpkins," you sigh.

He waits a beat. Then another. "Okay... You gonna give me more than that, or..." He smirks down at you, laughing. He can't help it.

"Yeah, sorry," you laugh, "rough week." You shake your head, before looking up at him, "carving, specifically."

"Shit, why didn't you say so? I could've done the whole thing for you!" He laughs as you exit the elevator into the lower garage.

Donnie's working on the truck and you wave at him as you pass by. He gives you a bright smile and your suspicion grows. He's a bit too cheery for being elbow deep in his latest mechanical mess.

You make it to the living room and start unpacking everything. Foam pumpkins, sharpies, exacto knives, "that should be everything," you say, grabbing a gourd and sitting down on the couch. You tuck your legs up under you as Raph walks by behind, leaning down to kiss you on his way to the other side.

He only has about an hour before he needs to leave, but he spends it cuddled up next to you quietly carving pumpkins, an activity which he actually enjoys. All too soon, he's called away to his duties.

With a lingering kiss that leaves you missing him already, he's gone, and you're left with... so much work.

...

The pumpkins are taking longer than expected, and by midnight you're still not done. Mostly because, for a teacher, you really suck at learning your lesson, and you waited until the last minute. Again. And you didn't ask your boyfriend for help once you realized it was too much. Again.

Honestly, one word and he could have had this solved for you. You look over at your annual Family Pumpkin Carving Competition entries. Raph was no longer allowed to enter the contest because it wasn't fair. But he still did one because he enjoyed it. This year, it seems, he was feeling romantic.

It was a MASSIVE pumpkin almost to your shoulder. You have no idea how he even got it down here. Inside was a small table with several electric candles, illuminating the ballroom scene from Beauty and the Beast.

You set down the half-carved jack o' lantern, and sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes. You lean back on the couch, tucking your feet under you. You're just going to shut your eyes for a few seconds. You know that people always say that and they end up just falling asleep, but you really actually mean it, you'll close your eyes for a few minutes and then get back to work.

....

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Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 . Epilogue (🌶️ Fem!Reader)

#bayverse raphael #raphael x reader #tmnt raphael #tmnt #bayverse raphael x reader #raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt bayverse #teenage mutant ninja turtles

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fallingrealms16 · 7 months ago

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CAITVI FIC REC LIST PART 3 (???) <3333

I love them *sighs*

OKAY !! Part 3??? So I said in my previous normal post that this was coming soon and that it was going to be short fics. Apparently I lied. Forgot I had this draft *cackles*

Reminder‼️ pretty please read all the tags on each fic before reading as I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience ^3^ (more notes at the bottom ty, ily <3)

⤵️⤵️⤵️

Face The Noise by hesychia

54.7K Words // 19 Chapters //COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// //this is part 1 of a trilogy//

Jayce, Viktor, and Caitlyn get invited to a house show. When a new band, the Firelights, takes the stage, Caitlyn finds herself drawn to the mysterious, pink-haired lead guitarist.

Part 2: Teen Idle (jinx one shot)

Part 3: Beat the Daylight (Caitlyn x Vi)

Ignore the author note in chapter one, they end up adding more spice to more chapters hahaha

Parabolic by Enchantable

69K Words // 22 Chapters // COMPLETED

//TEEN AND UP//

Missing scenes across Acts II and III and the aftermath.

Each chapter is a missing scene

Fixing for a Family by Bari_514

136.8K Words // 24 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

While creating homes for other families, Caitlyn and Vi learn that building a family isn't always an easy endeavor. They’ll discover that some things simply cannot be fixed, but can be endured; together.

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Knockout Chemistry by iheart_wheein

149K Words // ?/? Chapters // NOT COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// being updated frequently

When Caitlyn Kiramman, a perfectionist law student from Piltover’s elite, and Violet "Vi" Lanes, a rebellious boxing star on scholarship, end up as dorm mates, their worlds collide in all the worst ways.

But when Caitlyn’s unwanted admirers start interfering with her studies, and Vi’s slipping grades threaten her spot on the team, they strike an unconventional deal: fake date each other to solve both problems.

The plan is simple—no drama, no feelings, no complications. But with their complementing personalities and undeniable chemistry, keeping things strictly business might just be their biggest challenge yet.

Cheeky bonus o/s fic recs🤪

Craving for you by YourSinfulScribe

4K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

After severing ties with her younger sister Powder, Vi finds herself lost, with only her fists to keep her moving forward. She spends her days brawling in grimy underground pit fights, letting the pain and adrenaline numb the emptiness inside. But something feels wrong, she can sense someone watching her, a constant, unnerving presence lurking in the shadows.

When Vi finally confronts her mysterious stalker, she’s startled to find herself face-to-face with a stunning woman who is more than she appears. With a sly smile and a dangerous glint in her eye, this stranger lures Vi into a thrilling game from which escape might be harder than Vi ever anticipated.

Sorry about the small text^ it was realllllly long in larger font :( can make it normal if you guys prefer xx

Helping Hand by lettucehater007 @lettucehater007

4.7K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Basically just Vi and Caitlyn being soft and taking care of each other on their periods. Because that's what good girlfriends do.

I needed this fic for my soul honestly.

This is what you asked for by Sexterp

4.8K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//COMPLETED//

After their fallout, Vi and Cait were apart for months. Vi spent her time fighting in a pit and drinking. But what if Vi's vision of Caitlyn wasn't just a vision? What if they slept with each other too drunk and devastated to see through the greasy paint or a fuckass blonde wig?

Ngl this one’s a bit out there…

Posting the next one soon sooooon! Will be a drop with ones shots tehe (maybe a long one or two. Maybe)

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unformula1 · 1 year ago

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angel (LS2 x OP81)

logan needs a list, more specifically snapshots and little films running in his head. w/c: 1041 day 17 of loscar posts until we get a loscar podium!! how fun! (series masterlist) masterlist

Remembering when Logan and Oscar were considered proper friends with proper conversations never made Logan feel good. It would twist his stomach into a dead knot and sting his throat endlessly.

Just thinking about those moments where both of them would lock eyes and either smile or chuckle at each other, when they were still considered proper friends.

His mind would constantly fill with memories of both of them, fuzzy and faded. They were like films that kept running in his head no matter what, small little snapshots of their past.

He needed a list.

Ten.

Logan and Oscar grew close pretty quickly. They were made for each other, their chemistry was impeccable, their personalities were built for each other. Both of them never had to hide anything from each other or build a false personality. Oscar felt like home. Logan would never pass up on an opportunity to talk to Oscar, even if he was low on energy, Oscar would always be there.

Oscar was like an angel, the one for Logan.

Nine.

Their relationship hit its peak when Logan cried in Oscar’s arms, there was not necessarily anything romantic between them but it was a moment Logan would never forget. If everything faded off, this one would stay crystal clear.

The world was a harsh place, racing was harsher. Oscar was like the knight in shining armour for Logan, always willing to defend him, always willing to sit next to Logan while he rambled.

Oscar was like Logan’s emotional support pillar.

Eight.

Who knew that one random day in November, the two of them would be going out to a carnival. Oscar had invited Logan prior and he accepted, obviously.

It was one of those defining experiences in a relationship, the random game stations Logan wanted to try out and how Oscar would follow him no matter how stupid the game station was.

And the horror ride… Logan and Oscar had a moment there. When Logan got scared by some silly little prop and Oscar laughed at him for a solid minute about it.

It was dumb but Logan could never forget about it.

Seven.

PREMA media days were always hectic, twenty takes for a five second shot or standing there while cameras from multiple angles flashed at you. It was always tiring.

Oscar would always be with Logan for media days, in the videos or photos, Oscar insisted on doing it with Logan. They were a fan favourite anyway.

Logan felt special when Oscar argued with a producer over doing media day with Logan. He felt accepted by Oscar, Oscar made him feel this warm fuzzy feeling.

Six.

Flowers were a stupid gift, unless they were gifted by Oscar. Oscar got Logan flowers for his birthday. There wasn’t any reason but Logan loved it. It was a simple bouquet of yellow flowers, which apparently symbolises friendship.

Logan held onto this bouquet the whole day, refusing to put it down anywhere. When he got home, he put them in a vase, and placed it on his trophy rack. He intended to keep it there as a reminder of Oscar.

Five.

The night before both of them were slated to make their F1 debut, they had one last night out. Both of them knew F1 would either make them or break them.

The balcony was cold as the chilly wind blew against both of them. Oscar and Logan leaned against the railings, overlooking the city. Oscar swung his arm over Logan and pulled him closer, whispering into his ear.

Logan chuckled and leaned into Oscar. Everything slowed down, the balcony didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Remember me alright? I’ll always be there for you.”

Four.

Their F1 debut was shaky for both of them, but at least they had each other. Logan and Oscar promised to always update each other on their races, their teammates and all that.

F1 was brutal, Logan felt like giving up all the time but Oscar’s gentle taps on his shoulder or his royal-like laugh made it all worth it.

He was going to make it in F1 and he was going to do it with Oscar.

Three.

Logan can’t exactly remember when it all broke apart. Perhaps it was the first time Oscar didn’t text Logan about his race or maybe it was the time Oscar forgot about their monthly meetup. Whatever it was, Logan was crushed by this. He didn’t know what went wrong, or if it was him underperforming or Oscar not seeing Logan’s worth anymore.

Logan cried that night, but in no one’s arms, in the cold embrace of his blankets.

Two.

Oscar won a sprint, he won a race in his rookie year. Logan was proud of Oscar, hopefully Oscar was proud of Logan too.

Oscar glowed in the podium lights, it sort of made him sparkle, like an angel.

Logan texted Oscar that night, Oscar responded with a heart. Just a heart.

One.

Logan can’t remember the last time he texted Oscar, or the last time he talked to Oscar. Oscar had so many more important things to do now, like winning races or media day.

Logan couldn’t see Oscar as much anymore, if he could, it would be for brief seconds before he was swarmed by some other people.

Logan never forgot Oscar though.

Sorry mate. Can’t make it this time. Got some media to do.

Their monthly meetups were cancelled after much deliberation.

At least they still texted, occasionally… rarely.

"I’d say Lando would be a good choice you know, I mean our chemistry surpasses everything else."

Then it completely shattered. Everything was gone. Him and Oscar were split, far apart. Glass pieces on the carpet floor.

The flowers which used to remind Logan of Oscar and how lovely he was now stood there like a haunting reminder.

Logan and Oscar were supposed to make it together in F1, standing next to each other on the podium. F1 made Oscar and broke Logan.

They were doomed from the start, failure in the making. Logan couldn’t do anything but watch as everything fell apart in front of his eyes. Oscar was talented, perfect and gifted, Logan was none of those.

Oscar was like an angel, forever out of reach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a/n: this is depressing.

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qsycomplainsalot · 1 year ago

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So I watched Furiosa

Furiosa Road: a Star Wars Story. It wasn't likely to live up to Fury Road, and it didn't. It would have been a tall order. While it was well worth paying to see in theaters, I was still a little disappointed; I'm going to explain why, without spoilers, and then after a very visible cut I'll comment on a few specific things in the movie.

First of all it felt long, but not two hours long so I guess it speaks to its quality. Going through the cast, everyone did a good job, although I wasn't blown away by the on screen chemistry of Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke. More on that later. Chris Hemsworth as the overarching antagonist is this movie's standout performance, in a way that I'm somewhat conflicted about. More on that later too.

Overall it feels as if, after making Fury Road a trim and thrilling movie, the creatives behind it strung together all the piles of amazing ideas they had left on the cutting room floor into another complete movie, but not a very cohesive story with a beginning middle and end with enough connective tissue to captivate an audience. There's no shortage of props, costumes, characters, stunts and just straight up visuals, although the music is not up to the standards set by Fury Road. What's really missing is a tight knit script.

I'd say watch it if you like the franchise, otherwise I'd just wait for it to release on small screens.

My biggest complaint with this movie is that it's split between two relationships, between Hemsworth as Dementus or Tom Burke as Jack with Furiosa, when really with how it's paced it could barely afford one. I am just completely confused by people saying Jack and Furiosa's relationship was the highlight of the movie, it was vague, bland, and Jack died before I could really care about him. All this relationship did was explain how Furiosa became so good at driving a war rig, despite the fact that by this point in the movie she'd fended for herself just fine, presumably using what she'd been taught by the vuvuzela tribe. Likewise Dementus as a character is extremely simple, in a good way, and is the a better representation of time passing in the movie than literal text onscreen telling you it's been fifteen years or some such. It's on the nose, but Chris Hemsworth is acting his heart out and it's always a joy to see him on screen. He's spiraling his way through the movie in a perfect exemple of what Furiosa must avoid becoming. So knowing that, the main plot should be about Furiosa having to lose her way home (the star map tattoo on her arm, which we know she lose by Fury Road) and choose to stay at the Citadel to kill him, setting up a bitter ending where she's gained nothing and is stuck killing more people instead of letting go of revenge and going home. Unfortunately Furiosa: the video game: the movie very much lives in the shadow of its 2015 sequel, and so the plot is split further to set that up. I've talked about how it hurts the pacing and how much screentime the other characters could have gotten, but I think it actually greatly diminished the ending. The end of Furiosa has her catch up to Dementus, bind him and beat him up, asking him to give her her childhood and mother back, only for Dementus to refuse to play along in anyway. He tells her that revenge achieves nothing, that he knows from personal experience and that she can kill him however she wants, that he doesn't particularly care. I don't do it justice it's a pretty good end to his arc this movie. Instead of Furiosa killing him there and then and validating that speech for a cohesive theme to the movie (keeping the hope stuff for Fury Road where it works), the history man voiceover tells us that although the true end of Dementus is disputed, Furiosa told him the truth, that she kept him alive with a peach tree growing out of his dick ?? And then she brings the peach to Immortan's wives in the Citadel, and then the credits are interspersed with shots from Fury Road. I can excuse the impossibility of keeping someone alive while a tree is growing on them for the sake of Mad Max movies very much being wasteland fairy tales, but I think directly linking Furiosa: Road One with Fury Road like that is both pointless and very hamfisted, on top of being a big disappointment when it comes to Dementus' character. Like the guy was clearly fucked up from losing his daughters just kill him and be done with it. Anyway yeah I don't think I'll rewatch this movie nearly as often as I rewatch Fury Road. Shoutout to the Octoboss though, he's the Most Valuable Sidecharacter of this movie.

#qsy watches things #furiosa

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jazzmosis12 · 1 month ago

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Fanfic recs nobody asked for (caitvi edition) part 2

I spent my unemployed era reading a lot of caitvi fics so I'd thought I'd share some of my favs!

Click here for part 1

Whiskey Neat and Unfinished Business by FableNest

Caitlyn Kiramman thought she’d moved on from Piltover—and from Vi. But one night back in town brings her face-to-face with the girl who used to be her everything. Over drinks and old memories, Caitlyn and Vi confront the sparks they never fully put out. Because no matter how far you run, some unfinished business always catches up with you. Not rated | Completed | 71k words

Beneath the falling snow by RollercoasterOdyssey

Your classic feel-good, hallmark festive fix. Expect flirting, a touch of drama, a few classic tropes, and a sprinkle of holiday magic. Rated E | Completed | 72k words

Not as Beautiful (But Still as Sweet) by semperpugnandi

Ekko challenges Vi to completing a perfect week, in which she has to sleep with the first woman she flirts with every night for a week straight. Cait offers to help her out if things go south. (Things go south.) Or, a 5 + 1 fic in which Cait gets jealous five times, and then turns the tables to make Vi jealous once. Rated E | Completed | 42k words

Renascence by BantersaurusRex

Moments in time capturing the grief and recovery of twin cities, Piltover and Zaun, following the events of Arcane. Rated E | WIP | 121k words

House/Home by Blue_Cloak

Wasn’t so long ago that the world nearly ended. But, that’s the past and for those that survived they’ve had to keep moving and in the City of Progress, it's non-negotiable. That’s what Vi and Caitlyn are doing, trying to make their home a better place. Stepping into the role of Sheriff, Caitlyn works to root out the deep seeded corruption that festers in the twin cities, while Vi establishes bonds that were stolen from her during her youth. All of that is important, of course. However, what they truly want is simple, to build a life together. Wake up in each other’s arms every morning and sit in their garden. Peace. Quiet. Love. Life tends to get in the way, but their determined to turn their house into a home. Rated E | Completed | 257k words

Inevitable by the_earth_trembled

What if Vi and Cait had a summer together as kids, then reconnect in college? Rated M | Completed | 158k words

A Family Affair by orayofsunshine

How Caitlyn Ends Up Meeting Vi’s Whole Family On Accident Rated T | Complete | 32k words

The Space Between Us by RunePhoenix6769

The one where two idiots are in love with each other... but are worrying whether going for it is worth the risk of flushing a decade of friendship down the tubes. Rated E | Completed | 63k words

By design by RollercoasterOdyssey

Vi’s never believed in fate—so when Caitlyn starts showing up everywhere she goes, she knows it’s not destiny. It’s design. A string of perfectly timed encounters pulls Vi into Caitlyn’s carefully constructed world of high society, sharp wit, and undeniable chemistry. But beneath Caitlyn’s poise lies a carefully laid plan, set in motion long before Vi even knew she was part of it. Every move is intentional, every glance a strategy, every moment leading to something inevitable. The only question is - when Vi finally pieces it together, will she mind at all? Rated E | Completed | 11k words

Tales of a Family by pitiluis

After a mission in Zaun, Caitlyn and Vi find a child. This is a story about how they become a family Rated E | Completed | 134k words

Charred by PiltoversWhiniest

Foundry 17 is one of New York City’s most coveted dinner reservations. A sleek steakhouse forged from the bones of an old metalworks, where nothing is ever lukewarm, least of all the tension between head chef Vi Lanes and front-of-house lead Caitlyn Kiramman. Vi cooks with fire and instinct, building dishes from the ground up with fresh, handpicked ingredients. Caitlyn pairs them with expert precision, curating wines and spirits that turn each meal into an experience. Together, they craft something unforgettable. But behind the perfect plating and polished charm, old wounds simmer and secrets threaten to boil over. In the kitchen, timing is everything—and so is knowing when to turn up the heat. Rated E | Completed | 43k words

She Sits Beside Me Like a Silhouette by uppercutvi

When rising Hollywood actress Caitlyn crosses paths with rock singer Violet during a film premiere in New York, neither of them expects more than a spark. But a single look becomes a slow-burning obsession, and what begins with glances and teasing messages turns into something much deeper—something neither of them was prepared for. or Caitlyn and Violet only wanted something fun, until they realized it was already too late. Now, they're caught between fame, fear, and a love they never saw coming. Rated E | Completed | 212k words

Teenage Sumprat by SunsetSharkbite

Teen!Caitvi but make it a 00’s romcom Rated M | Completed | 109k words

i hate the way you make me feel alright by PsychSpark

things go a little differently on that fateful day at Jayce's lab and Caitlyn and Vi meet much earlier. Rated T | WIP | 44k words

King and Lionheart by highqualitynot

As Vi and Caitlyn fall for each other, they find that love at first sight is never as simple as it seems, not when you're still healing from the past. But it might be worth doing anyway. Rated T | WIP | 28k words

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers of Letters by Physykus

No one suspects Vi to love literature. But she does love it, and the only one who understands her is a girl she knows from the school restroom. What once was a simple reply to a poem scribbled in a toilet stall is now a solid friendship. Except Vi still doesn't know who that mysterious girl is, and doesn't even want to. Now it's perfect, and what Piltie girl would want to be friends with her in real life? But hey, fate had other plans. Rated M | Completed | 30k words

pov your gf turns into a snail by Batstronaut

Caitlyn turns into a snail and follows Vi around Rated G | Completed | 1k words

But the Ocean Belongs to You by CinnamonRoll_Inhaler

Caitlyn, a marine biologist, and Vi, a scuba diver, go on a six-month research expedition in Jervis Bay, Australia. And everything becomes sort of a midsummer night's dream. Rated E | Completed | 81k words

Lovers, Hunters by Heybosshotsauce

This is a post episode 8 look at Cait and Vi and how they navigate their relationships while also healing from all the trauma in their lives. It also acts as a study into the Kiramman Family dynamics, how Cait moves past her time with Ambessa, and how Vi handled life during her Pit Fighter phase. Rated E | Completed | 124k words

The Boss's Daughter by ezbteller

Vi meets Cassandra Kiramman by chance in an art supply store, a meeting that shapes the next eight years of her life. Their relationship is built on trust, opportunity, and quiet compromises, the kind that pull Vi deeper into Cassandra’s world than she ever intended. But when Vi crosses paths with Caitlyn by chance in a bakery, the foundation she’s built her future on starts to crack. Secrets surface, loyalties are tested, and every choice Vi has made comes back to demand its price. Rated E | WIP | 198k words

special delivery by TrenchCoatGoat

After two years of consistent delivery orders to the same address, chef Vi’s most loyal anonymous customer misses a day. Vi can’t shake the feeling that something is off — Chef Vi x Architect Caitlyn Rated M | Completed | 16k words

tell me it's alright to be covered by countered__balance

the one where it's basically love at first sight, and Vi handles it a little better than Caitlyn does. Rated E | WIP | 92k words

Bed Chem: The Sexcapades of Caitlyn Kiramman by Star55

After spending almost a decade overseas, Caitlyn returns to Piltover for her third year of university, intent on making some decent friends, and having as much sex as she possibly can. What she doesn’t expect is the teen genius who lives next door to become her best friend. Rated E | WIP | 155k words

#fanfic #fanfic rec #caitvi #irl friends if u saw this no u didnt #i have lost many hours of sleep reading these fics (no ragrets)#piltovers finest #ao3 fanfic

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marvelousbutterfly · 10 months ago

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You'll never make it like that (too bad) - Chapter 1

Peter's sensory issues applied to what he ate as well, to the point where it affected his day to day life. This is 5 times Peter's selective eating fucked him over + 1 time he knew how to handle it.

(To clarify - Peter's issues with food are related to his sensory issues, so he's selective based on textures, color, size, taste, smell and other aspects of food.)

Read on ao3

When Peter turned 8, he had a small, science-themed party at home. Ben and May made the most of what they had for the decoration, with a table full of test tubes filled with candy and beakers as jars of juice. They all wore lab coats made by May, and Ben provided some pairs of safety goggles to complete the costumes.

The next thing they had to decide on was the cake. May had absolutely no skills in the kitchen, and although Ben could cook delicious meals, he had no experience with baking and he wasn’t about to risk testing it on his nephew’s birthday. So a store bought cake was the best option, they concluded. It would be a very small party - only the 3 of them, Ned and his parents, plus a couple neighbors -, so a simple grocery store sheet cake would be enough and fit right in their budget.

Peter was very specific with what he ate. He’d always order the same things from the same places, rarely willing to try something new. When it came to cakes, he liked chocolate, carrot or plain vanilla. He couldn’t stand marble cake - the mix of both colors bothered him. With that in mind, plus a list of the grocery stores Peter liked best, the couple was prepared for their last task. While May took the boy to the library, Ben would go to the places in the list in search for the perfect cake for their kid. Ben managed to get a plain chocolate cake from Peter’s favorite store, and although there was a sticker announcing it was a “new, improved recipe”, he thought nothing of it - how much could a simple chocolate sheet cake change?

The party went well - although there weren’t many people, Peter had fun. He and Ned were excited as ever with the decoration, and both squealed happily when Ben gifted the birthday boy a chemistry kit for children. Then, it was time for the cake and Peter had a smile from ear to ear.

Once they sang happy birthday and the cake was served, guests and hosts alike sat down, talking quietly as they ate the dessert. May frowned as she noticed Peter stopped eating, staring at the cake slice on his plate almost as if he was offended by it, his mouth obviously still full. When she noticed his complexion turning green, she cursed under her breath and rushed to him just as he started gagging.

Ben soon understood what was happening, quickly calling Ned over and keeping the conversation with his neighbors going to spare Peter the unnecessary attention as May coaxed him into spitting the mouthful of cake into a napkin and took him to the bathroom to rinse his mouth. But Ben’s efforts weren’t enough, as the others soon turned their heads to see the commotion when Peter began crying loudly.

“No no no no no” he sobbed, voice getting louder and louder with each word, “Bad cake.”

As May tried her best to calm him down, Ben took care of the guests, who looked incredulously at him.

“He’s throwing a tantrum because he didn’t like the cake?” asked Mrs. Thomas, one of their neighbors. “Isn’t he a bit too old for that?”

“It’s been a long day for him,” the man said, “you know how they can get cranky.”

The truth was, Ben was still trying to understand Peter and some of his mannerisms. He was sure most of it stemmed from the trauma of having lost his parents at such a young age, and he and May were working on taking him to a child psychologist once again.

The party quickly came to an end, with Ben trying his best to defend Peter from the guests’ judgment. Ned’s family were the last people to leave, kindly reassuring Ben after his many apologies.

As it turned out, the “new, improved recipe” the grocery store had come up with for the chocolate cake included rice krispies in the filling to add a crunchy texture to it. A texture, as May and Ben would later learn, Peter was not expecting to be on a cake. With time, all three of them learned to accommodate the boy’s needs better.

#autistic peter parker #irondad fic #iron dad #irondad and spiderson #butterfly writes #my fics

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artofdeductionbysholmes · 1 month ago

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Ah sorry wrong blog, I thought you were the eccentric lady who’s a detective in Japan. Anyway, Mr Sherlock, what is your favourite dish to cook at home?

I don't. Cook, that is. London's riddled with take-away options, and John @johnhwatsonblog does a decent enough job as a hobby chef. Time is better spent elsewhere. Food is fuel. Nothing else.

But there are exceptions.

When the casework is slow, and my mind is spiralling towards something reckless, I'll cook. Not for the sake of eating, but for the process. Cooking, when done precisely, is chemistry.

On boring evenings, I might throw together something absurdly simple—eggs, toast, tea, done. But on rare occasions, I make something complex. Possibly even something that flambés. (To John's dissatisfaction.) The timing, the temperature, the reaction of acids with proteins—very satisfying. Duck à l’orange, Beef Wellington, Coq au vin, Bouillabaisse, Soufflé.

So. To answer your question: I don't like to cook. I like to experiment. Sometimes that results in dinner.

PS. Never confuse me with an eccentric lady in Japan again.

#sherlock holmes rp #sherlock roleplay #sherlock rp #rp #sherlock replies #sherlock holmes roleplay

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elliewithcellie · 11 months ago

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Long Cool Woman - Chapter 4

chapter summary: It's date night, and you get a little carried away. The brothers are less than thrilled.

wc: 4.6k

cw: ANGST, brothers are mad lol, SMUT ADJACENT (18+), heavy makeout, some *touching*, Sam's def jealous, reader still oblivious, reader cries, Dean plays good big brother again, mention of scars

a/n: yes it's theo james as the James fan cast sue me. Find the rest of the story here

Across from the table sat James, looking as perfect as you had met him that morning. You couldn’t believe you had ended the night here. Never in your recent wildest dreams did you picture yourself on a date, much less to be picked among fifty actual models. It was hard to believe a man as dreamy as him would want a girl like you, but the chemistry made up for it in your mind.

“So,” James began, “how does a girl like you get caught up in something like this?”

“Girl like me? What do you mean?”

“I mean, those other pageant girls are all the same. They’re all self-absorbed and can’t think of anything else they’d do with their time other than look pretty. But you, you’re different. You’re not like them, are you?”

You blushed and reached for your water. “Oh, I don’t know…” You struggled to find the right response. “I guess you could say it’s the family business. I’m just the girl of the family so…”

James leaned in. “Oh, wow. I knew it. It’s really only a job for you. That’s fascinating. Have you ever wanted to do anything else? If you could quit this life today, what would you do?”

He had no idea what a loaded question that was. What you would give to have your old life back. The life where monsters didn’t exist, and you could pursue a college education, or a trade, something normal that other people get to experience. “Maybe when this is all over, I’d go to school to learn psychology or something. The science of the mind has always been so intriguing to me. I don’t know. It’s hard not to look at my life and feel behind. But I guess you have to roll with the punches, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean.” James reached for your hand. The hold was warm, firm. “Growing up, I felt like I had no say in what my future held. My dad was a mechanic. Told me I was going to be, too. He was harsh, to say the least, about my interest in creativity. If I as much as held a camera, it was enough to set him off. He’d tell me that if I was going to be the head of a household, I had to do something honorable. Making movies was a waste of time to him. My mom supported me in secret. She’s who gave me my first video camera. She’s who let me play pretend with my friends before my dad returned from work. But she left when I was young.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, the confession startling you.

“Yeah, well. It was hard for a while with just my dad. Fights would break out, and all that, until finally I told him that I couldn’t follow his path for me anymore. So, then I left. I went to school to study videography. I loved it. I still do, but I’m scared I made a mistake. What if my dad was right all along? And what if I have to return home with the knowledge that I failed?”

“But you haven’t failed,” you said, hoping to comfort him. “Look at what you’re doing now. You’re directing a program that’ll be broadcast nationwide! Like, that’s not something you should look past, you know? To me, you’ve succeeded.”

James’ shoulders settled back into a natural state as a small smile formed on his face. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that. You are truly something else.”

His fingers played with yours in his grasp, and you did everything you could to focus on anything else. But it was hypnotic the way his touch set you ablaze with the simple graze of his thumb. Like falling under a spell, you fought to keep the conversation going.

“But enough about me,” James continued. “Please, tell me everything.”

So, you did. You practically shared your entire upbringing. Almost all of it was the truth, only lying to shoehorn in anything you knew from watching Toddlers and Tiaras. James soaked up every word, attentive to every phrase, and his eyes swallowed yours whole. It was like he was thirsty for more, no matter what you gave him. No one had ever given you this much attention before. You were worried any more would set you over the edge.

You had long since finished your dinner, the conversation never settling once. The first interruption of the night came from your phone buzzing in your pocket.

“Sorry,” you said as you pulled out your phone. The time read 9:32 pm, and an unread message from Dean waited for your response.

“tick tock” was all it said. You rolled your eyes.

“Is everything ok?” James asked.

You sighed. “Yeah, it’s just my, uh, my brother. He wants me to head back.”

James scrunched his eyebrows before releasing a small laugh. “Is he the boss?” he asked. You noted the sarcasm that coated the question.

“Yeah, actually. I don’t mean to cut this short.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I can take you back.” James paid for the meal, and the two of you set back on the road toward the hotel.

The radio hummed along with the steady drone of the engine, but the tension building between the two of you was much louder. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove, something your high school self would have panicked over. You were close to panicking now. Every bump in the road served as an excuse for his hand to drift, either deeper into your muscle, or higher and higher. You fought your rising temperature, but you were hot. The reminder of the rubber in your back pocket didn’t ease your nerves. It only strengthened them.

James pulled into a parking space in the back of the hotel, a secluded area away from the road.

“Do you have to go?” James asked, his eyes tracing over each of your features. You checked the time. 9:54.

“We’re cutting it close,” you said. Your voice was not your own. It was breathy, softer than usual. The hold he had on you was intoxicating. His eyes stayed on yours, and his chest heaved up and down. Your heart fluttered in your chest. “I had a really great time,” you said.

“Wait,” he said. “Just one more thing before you go.”

He reached across the center console and pulled you into a kiss. Your heart pounded against your chest, threatening to explode on impact. Your shock settled into desire, longing, and something deep within you that you’d never had access to until now.

You kissed back like it was second nature, a skill you never lost. You found your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, fighting to be closer. James’ hands got lost in your hair and grabbed a fistful. You moaned into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows and smirked against you, his hand venturing to your waist.

“This stupid car,” James groaned, sitting back in his seat. “Come here.”

You were nothing if not a good listener. Fighting how flustered you felt, you crossed over the console into the driver’s seat and straddled him. You had never been this close to a guy before, but now was not the time to think. You pulled him back toward you for a kiss, his tongue quick to join the action. You followed suit, a moan escaping your lips as his hands found purchase on your hips. His hands were rough, kneading into your flesh as he rolled you against him. Your breath hitched against his mouth.

“You’re amazing,” he said between kisses. “God, it’s like you were made for me.”

Your mind was numb, the praise sending you over the edge. His hands roamed to the front of your jeans and undid the button.

“Woah, wait,” you said out of breath.

James groaned. “Don’t tease me, baby.”

You melted at the name. You rested your head on his. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Then your phone buzzed. And again. And again.

“Shit. Shit!” You lurched over to your phone to see two missed calls from Dean. You shuffled through to the passenger side and opened the door.

“I’m so sorry. I have to go. I’m late. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m not that type of girl. But I have to go.”

“It’s ok,” James said with a small smile. “Go.”

“Thank you for tonight. It was amazing.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smiled and closed the door. You ran to the lobby and called Dean back. “I’m so sorry. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m running up now, ok?”

“Ok,” was all you heard on the other line. You were in deep shit.

The elevator took its sweet time transferring you to the second floor as if to taunt you of your failings. You checked the time. 10:20. Almost 30 minutes of making out with a stranger? This was not good.

The elevator chimed. You bolted out of the doors and ran straight to your room. You scanned your room key and opened the door. Both brothers were on their feet when you entered, their attention already on you.

“I said ten,” Dean said, his voice unnervingly level.

“I know. I—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Dean stepped closer to you. “Because when I say ten, I don’t mean twenty minutes after. I don’t mean it as a suggestion. I mean ten on the dot. I even gave you a warning text, just in case! That was an hour ago!”

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. “We really did head back when you texted. I swear. We parked at 9:54.”

“There’s still a thirty-minute block of time not being accounted for, isn’t there?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

The color drained from your face as flashbacks of the night attacked your memories. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “We lost track of time.”

“I’m sure you did,” Sam said, his words pointed.

You jumped at his words, not used to his biting tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice low, almost daring him to continue.

Sam shook his head. “We were worried sick, and you’re out there getting handsy with the first guy you meet.”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“Woah, what?” You took a step back. “The time thing I get. I’m on your clock. And I want to make it up to you. But what I do on my time is my business.”

“Whatever,” Sam said. “I just hope it was worth it.”

Your jaw dropped at his final words, the audacity to be disgusted with you without knowing the truth. It was your business. Who gave him the right to assume? You fought the urge to call him jealous. Your own brash assumption would only make you a hypocrite.

Sam grabbed his laptop and duffle bag from the side of the bed. “Dean, give me the keys.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Out. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Dean tossed him the keys. Sam headed for the door, but you stood in his way. You reached your boiling point.

“For the record,” you said, each word burning on your tongue, “things did get heated, but I shut it down. It was too much, and I wasn’t ready. So, maybe next time come with proof before you call someone a whore.” You fished the condom out of your back pocket and shoved it against Sam’s chest. “Here. I hope you have more use for this than I did.”

Sam’s heart pounded where your hand rested. The two of you stared each other down. Even then you weren’t afraid of him. As tall, strong, and powerful as he was, his anger was nothing more than an emotion, never a physical sign of danger. You were thankful for that. You felt your breathing slow with the pace of his heart. His eyes softened at your touch, almost remorseful.

Sam took the condom from your hand. He shoved it in his pocket and moved around you to open the door. He left without another word.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean said.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to fight. I really do want to make it up to you guys. You guys are taking the time to teach me, and I’m on your clock. I just don’t get why he gets to stay out when I have a curfew. I’m not sixteen.”

“You’re still not getting it,” Dean said, exasperated. “This isn’t a maturity thing. This isn’t you clocking in at the deli. We work with life-and-death stakes here. On his deathbed, Bobby made us promise him your safety. He begged us to keep you safe. And he was everything to us. If we can’t do that one thing for him…”

You sat and listened, a heightened realization of your value setting in. “I’m sorry.”

“So, of course, we freaked out,” Dean continued. “We’re here to protect you. And we care about you, ok? So, don’t get that twisted. What Sam said was unwarranted. He’s dealing with his own demons at the moment. But he’ll apologize in the morning. I’m sure of it. But it’s just like I said. We can’t lose you, ok?”

You sighed and headed for your duffle bag. “Well, please let me know what I can do to make this right. It won’t happen again. I mean it.”

“I know it won’t,” said Dean. “Let’s just sleep this off before—”

Before he could finish his thought, Castiel apparated in the center of the room.

“Cas? What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” Dean jumped from the bed and took Castiel’s trench coat off, assessing for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel said monotone. “I checked the bunker, but you all were not there. I have some news for you. Oh, hello, Y/N. Where is Sam?”

“Hi, Castiel. He had to clear his head apparently,” you mumbled, still feeling burned.

“What’s the news?” Dean asked. “Does it have to do with this hunt? Because we’re at a standstill right now.”

“There is definitely something going on here,” said Castiel, “but the town is too quiet.”

“So, it wouldn’t be a ghost, right?” Dean asked. “Sam and I were waiting for something to happen, but nothing. Ghosts don’t pause. Living things do.”

“If it’s not a ghost then, what do you need from me?” you asked.

Dean turned to you. “It’s all the more reason to stick to what you did today. You’ll really need to pay attention to your surroundings. Use what we and Bobby taught you to see if there’s anything fishy going on.”

A memory from the morning flashed in your mind. “You know what? I did see something weird. There was a window open in the lobby. And on the windowsill was like a pile of dirt. Maybe sawdust, or something.”

Dean and Castiel shared a knowing look before returning to you. “Show us,” Dean ordered.

You led the way to the lobby, Dean and Castiel trailing close behind. But when you walked up to the window, it had been closed and was completely clean.

“It was here, I swear,” you said confused. “They must have cleaned it.”

“Describe to us again what it looked like,” Castiel said.

“It was yellow and powdery, like pollen almost. But I’ve never seen pollen just clumped like that, certainly not inside.”

“Judging by your description, that sounds like sulfur.”

“Shit,” Dean said. “We’re dealing with a demon.”

The air got sucked from your lungs. A ghost you were ready to handle. That’s what you trained for. All you had to do was salt and burn some bones. Ghosts were predictable, more or less. It was something that you were confident you could hunt. This was a whole new level. Your mind flashed to your family and the black eyes that took them. You thought of the demon that almost killed you, how unprepared you were even with your years of studying. You couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face and fear took its place.

“You with us?” Dean stirred you from your impending panic.

You nodded, not able to find words convincing enough.

“Let’s head back to the room. It’s getting late, and we got our work cut out for us, tomorrow.”

Castiel vanished, and Dean called Sam to fill him in, leaving you to return to your room alone. Your heart was caught in your throat, your lungs restricted. You were unable to shake the dread clawing at your skin, the scars on your arms a permanent reminder of the damage a demon could wreak.

When Dean returned, you had already climbed into Sam’s bed. His pillow left traces of him, the scent decompressing your stress like a hug as you settled deeper into the mattress. You caught yourself. His words still stung, and his exit hurt worse. You tossed his pillow to the side in exchange for yours and huffed back in bed. Dean had said Sam took it too far. But why? What had him fuming to the point of leaving for an entire night? Guilt resurfaced as you were reminded of your evening. You were going to make it up to him, both of them, whatever it took.

“What’s wrong?” Dean said from the other bed. “You’re moving a lot.”

“Sorry. I’m fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Silence filled the darkness. You were careful to lie still hoping to let Dean sleep, but to no avail.

“You’re worried,” Dean said as he turned on the lamp between you.

You released a shaky breath. “I guess so, yeah.”

“About?”

You bit your lip. “Well, I’m thinking about Sam being so upset with me that he couldn’t be here.”

“I told you not to worry about that.”

“But you were mad too. You gave me a rule, and I broke it. And now, it’s not ghosts we’re after but full-on demons. There’s an emotional stake now. Ghosts didn’t kill my family or give me these.”

You held out your arms where your scars stained your skin. Dean’s eyes filled with remorse as he examined your scars.

“I couldn’t follow a simple curfew, Dean!” You continued, tears welling up in your eyes. “How am I supposed to be trusted to save the lives of these women when it’s demons? Dean, I’m so scared.”

You cried into your hands, unable to contain your emotions any longer. Dean sat on the edge of your bed and nudged your shin. “Hey, look at me,” he said.

You begrudgingly obeyed, your eyes puffy as your vision adjusted through your tears.

“People make mistakes. Everyone. You, me, Sam, everyone. It’s not a sign of your character. It’s a sign you’re human. You think being late removes every good thing you’ve done in the past year? No, dude. You’re fine. It doesn’t mean you don’t learn from it. And it doesn’t mean I have to like it, so I called you out. Just like you called Sam out for his mistake. You learn and move on. It has no bearing on tomorrow. I know I could do better at this, but you don’t hold grudges with family.”

You looked up at him in surprise. Family. He saw you as family.

“As for the demon, I know you’re scared. You’re not alone there. We don’t talk about it, but our origins are more alike than you may think.”

“Really?” you asked, scooting closer to him, your legs crossed.

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “So, I get you. I do. But we’ve got you, ok? Both of us do. And besides, you’ve had Bobby teaching you almost since you got there, right? You’re more capable than I think you realize. But you’re safe with us, ok?”

You nodded, settling your tense shoulders back into place.

“I hate to say this,” Dean began, “well, then maybe I shouldn’t.” He moved to get up.

You grabbed his shoulder. “No, wait. Tell me.”

He sat back and sighed. “In all honesty, when we found out you existed, I hated you. I was so insanely jealous of what you had.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft.

“You had Bobby. I mean, well, first off, you had a normal childhood. But I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone. But you had Bobby to take care of you every day. He kept you a secret from us for years. But once the cat was out of the bag, you were all he talked about. He would tell us how funny you were, your favorite shows, any small thing that had happened that he thought was remotely interesting. He was proud of you. You were like a daughter to him, and I think I resented you for that. Because he was like a father to me.”

His admission rattled you. You began to realize you didn’t know the entire history of the Winchesters. And if he was jealous of your situation, he and Sam must have endured some horrible circumstances.

“So, when we had to get you,” Dean continued, “I was furious. I wanted nothing to do with you, which is why we fought way back when. But when you threatened to leave, I realized we couldn’t lose you. You’re all we have left of him. By joining us, we got to find out that everything Bobby said about you is true. It made you really hard to hate.”

You chuckled, your cheeks rouging slightly.

“I don’t know where all this is coming from,” Dean said, suddenly bashful over his ramblings. “I guess my point is that you’re pretty cool, in an annoying little sister kind of way. I know we had a rocky start, but I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re not welcome by me, ok?”

You moved to sit next to him on the bed. “Can I hug you?”

“I’ll allow it,” Dean said. He pulled you into his side.

You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder. “For the record,” you said, “you were all I heard about, too. So, I think that makes us even.”

He hummed in response and patted your shoulder. “Ok, enough of this chick-flick shit. I’m headed to bed.”

A full laugh bubbled out of you, your first full laugh of the day. Dean smiled back as he turned the light off, and you drifted off to sleep in minutes.

You woke up the next morning not to an alarm, but to the door unlocking. You sprung up from bed, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

“It’s me. You’re fine. You’re safe. It’s Sam.”

Your eyes adjusted in the dark room as you watched Sam close the distance between you. He rested a hand on your shoulder as you tried to relax your breathing.

“Sorry,” you said through shaking breaths.

“You’re ok. Just breathe.” Sam rubbed small circles into your back with his thumb. “Same dream?”

You nodded, shuddering against him. It never got easier. You had hoped that time would heal your wounds, but something struck you as unfinished. An unwanted message to your subconscious, it was almost like you were missing something.

“What time is it? It feels early.”

Dean interrupted your question with a soft snore.

“It’s close to seven,” Sam said. He sat on the bed next to you and paused. He looked as if he was contemplating his words carefully before he spoke, almost nervous. “Would you be ok, when you’re ready, if we talked over coffee this morning? I don’t want to wake Dean up, and honestly, it’s not his business.”

You looked over at Dean. Not a single thought rattled around his head as he slept on his stomach with his mouth agape. You returned your attention to Sam. “Uh, sure. Coffee sounds nice.”

The two of you found a table in the back of the breakfast bar. Your coffee warmed your hands and the tip of your nose in the otherwise frigid lobby. Your body betrayed you, a shiver coursing under your skin from the contrasting temperatures.

“You’re cold,” Sam said.

“Ehh.” You shrugged.

“I should have told you to grab a sweater or something.”

“I’ll be ok.”

Sam removed his flannel and rested it on your shoulders. You bit your lip, trying to deter a blush from forming. “Thank you,” you said.

He nodded, a small smile residing on his features before faltering again. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I got so bent out of shape over your safety that I was, disheartened, to say the least, to find out you were here the whole time. Your time is your business, just like you said. And I respect that. I have to respect it if I want to respect you.” He lowered his voice. “I—I don’t think you’re a whore, by the way. It all just, you know, caught me off guard. So, I’m really sorry I hurt you. It wasn’t fair of me to say any of it. I care about you and never want to make you feel that way.”

Your thoughts wandered to the night before. “It did hurt, but because it felt so unlike you more than anything. I didn’t know where it was coming from, you know? But what hurt the most was when you left. It was mostly guilt. I couldn’t believe you were leaving over it all, and I couldn’t shake it. I was so upset to have hurt you so bad, but I couldn’t figure out why. I ended up breaking down to Dean I felt so bad. But he explained everything.”

“He did?” Sam asked, his eyes wide. “What did he say?”

“He said I’m all you guys have left of Bobby, and if you lost me, you’d completely lose him.”

Sam released a breath and sipped his coffee.

“And I guess you guys are the same to me in some ways,” you continued. “I’ve been ungrateful.”

“You haven’t.”

“I have though. Over the past year, I’ve lived a self-centered view of my situation. Being tossed from stranger to stranger and ordered to stay inside the rest of my life. That’s how I saw it. I felt trapped, stunted even. So, maybe yesterday I made some impulsive choices. But in my mind yesterday, it was eight years in the making. It was my first night to so much as to get a taste of a typical adult life. It was the first time a man asked me out. I had to take advantage of that because what if it never happens again?”

Sam’s eyebrows scrunched together at your words but let you continue.

“But,” you breathed out, “it was a selfish endeavor, and I know it. Last night, Dean reminded me that I wasn’t being tossed around by strangers but by people who had so much love for each other that they willingly let me be a part of their circle. I’m sorry for taking advantage of your time. Because now I know it wasn’t just time; it was safety and the relationships we’ve formed over the last year, and I will not take that for granted anymore.”

Sam gave you a small smile. “That was…really well said. You’re family to us. And it’s just that we care a lot, ok? So, are we good, now?”

You smiled back. “Yes, we’re good. I promise to make it up to you.”

“You already are.”

The comfort exuding from Sam began to flood your senses. You’d spend all your time with him if he’d let you, completely content to remain in his space.

“We should probably be getting back,” Sam said, shuffling out of his seat. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

chapter 5

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