#my heart hurts for them i love them so much

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Seventeen

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader - AO3 - 4K words Tags: 18+ mdni. nurse!reader. PTSD, references and descriptions of domestic violence , grooming, manipulation, pregnancy. Simon's back story. Trauma. Bun opens up a bit more. Domesticity, feelings of anxiety, self doubt. Simon is a nervous dad. Emotional confessions.

“It’s Beth.” Simon wipes the countertop, chasing little dirty fingerprints with a wet cloth, before fixing a hesitant set of eyes on yours.

“That’s pretty… I like it.” There’s something odd about his expression, something haunted almost, a deep, dark well filled to the brim with rancid, stagnant water. You sense it immediately. “What’s wrong?”

He motions to the chair and slides your mug into your waiting hands. “Sit.”

“Simon?”

“It was my sister in law’s name. My brother’s wife.” Was. Your throat goes dry, muscles tensing.

“Was?” He pulls your fingers into his, cradled in the palm of his hand, thumb rubbing circles into your skin, over and over on a loop. A mechanism of comfort, connection. A thread stitch into the fabric between your heart and his.

“They died, sweetheart. My family… I lost them.” Grief, a shared experience you know now, froths in the pit of your heart. You tremble, he holds you steady, though it should be the other way around.

“What… what happened?” He sighs, dragging your palm to his lips.

“Let’s sit down on the couch.”

He holds you as he talks, diaphragm rumbling against your ear. You’re laid on his chest, unable to see his face, watch his expressions, but for this, you don’t feel the urge to dissect each one.

You’re content against him. Listening. Mourning.

There’s a swath of silence afterwards, and then he clears his throat. “So, I was dead. Dead until I met Johnny, I think. And then everything changed.” Johnny’s words from weeks and weeks ago make more sense, Simon’s actions and reactions rapidly gaining clarity. “When we found you, I saw it, the look in your eyes. It was the same one that used to haunt my mother’s.”

“You saved her.” He burrows his face in your neck and shakes his head.

“I did what I could to piece them back together. Helped get Tommy clean and on his feet, got rid of the old man for good, but the damage… the way she suffered, it was irreversible. The best I could do was be there as much as often as possible.” You comb through his hair, short strands of silk like Penny’s, and hold him close. “I promised myself, when I met Johnny, when we fell in love, I’d do better by my own family. For him, and then by Penny. And now you. Promised I wouldn’t become him.” Your heart clenches, squeezing in on itself. “Violence may have been a part of my job, but it wasn’t a part of me.” His fingers dance along your spine until they reach your chin, tilting you back to meet his gaze. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.” You whisper, leaning into his touch. He doesn’t need to ask for your trust, he already has it.

“Johnny thinks I’ve got a bit of a savior complex now, but I want you to know… that’s not what this is, bunny.”

“I know,” you clear your throat, fighting through the thick of emotion building there, accumulating in heaps, “I know that.”  

“But we do need to talk about him, you know that?” Darkness creeps along the wispy, dream-like cocoon the two of you built on the couch, and you push it away, try to banish it, basking in the comfort of his arms instead.

“I can’t, I… right now it feels like I’m in a dream where nothing hurts and nothing can scare me or hurt me, and I don’t-“

“You’re not in a dream, bunny. That’s your reality. This is real. Nothing can, or will, hurt you, scare you. No one will ever touch you again.”

“I need more time. Please.” Simon sighs, but doesn’t push, and the two of you lay there, together, suspended in comforting silence. For another moment, your world is a dream. A safe, beautiful dream, where happy endings are real, where love stretches on for eternity, unconditional, limitless, unbreakable.

You’re so different now, stark changes shocking to the girl you once knew, the one who doubled back on her routes to and from work, the one that walked everywhere with her hackles up. Little pieces of black rot now turned a blinding white, a brilliant beam seeking to shine on the whole of your life.

It’s a dream.

One you won’t easily surrender.

“I was really young.” It comes during a lapse in conversation, practically a blurt, an interruption pushing heat to your cheeks. Expelled from your mind, your body without choice, cracks appearing in the preservation that you’ve so defiantly clung to. You have to tell them, eventually. You have to break it all apart, let them see. Johnny’s mouth opens, and Simon’s hand darts to his wrist faster than a snake could strike, a clear signal. Don’t speak. “Obviously now, looking back on it, I realize I was groomed, or I guess, easily influenced. He was older, and I graduated early, started college early. I was in my second year when I turned eighteen. My mom,” the lump in your throat nearly chokes you until you swallow it down, “my mom busted her ass for me. I went to college on scholarships and her hard work.” Metal clanks against ceramic, forks settling on the edges of plates. “Anyway, everyone always thought I was a know-it-all and pretty awkward. We weren’t officially like, together right away but it was pretty serious from the day I met him. Eventually… he started to change me. Change my goals. He even manipulated my career path.”

“What did you go to school for?” Simon asks casually, head tilted.

“Bioscience. I wanted to be a doctor, so I thought it would transition well for med school. Thought I could become a surgeon.” You were a girl then; you know that now. Naïve, misguided by a hand that sought to control you, not love you as you hoped. It’s embarrassing, baring this, showing these broken bits and pieces to them, shattered shards of a mirror never glued back together.

“What happened?”

“He did.” Johnny squeezes your hand. “Made it to pre-med but ended up leaving and starting a nursing program instead. It’s what he wanted, and by then, I couldn’t say no.”

“But ye didnae want it, to be a nurse.”

“No. I didn’t. I love my job now, of course, and I’m happy in it, but originally, I wanted something else. He tricked me, in all honesty. Showed me something that wasn’t real, reeled me in, and then revealed his true colors.” You shudder. “The first time… the first time it happened, I shook it off, forgave him. I-“ the memory is still so strong, it stuns you. The blood from your busted lip is fresh on your tongue, sting on the side of your face turning to a blooming ache.

“Bunny?” Johnny’s grip moves to your elbow, strong, but not too tight. An anchor. You shake your head.

“Sorry.”

“Ye’re alright, ye can stop if-“

“No, I… I want to share these things with you. It feels like I’m supposed to, like you should know me… like this.”

“We already know you, sweetheart. Don’t push yourself.” Simon’s tone is serious, and you nod.

“It’s embarrassing, looking back on it and realizing how bad it was, how bad I let it get. How I let him cut me off from everyone, change my career, squash me like a bug.” You laugh, but it’s empty.

“Ye did nothin’ wrong,” Johnny’s lips press together, muscles in his jaw straining, “was never yer fault.” You don’t answer, just trace the woodgrain of the table, texture moving beneath your fingers. The conversation is draining you, leeching light away like a horizon swallowing the last of the sun.

“He’s rich. Like, fuck you money rich. Rich like make problems go away rich, and his job…” your head shakes again. It’s the most you’ve ever said, heavy buried secrets finally dug up, resurrected, the truth trembles through your bones. “He has resources. Has chased me across the globe more than once. My only saving grace is that when he has to work, he has to work, and it’s usually for long chunks of time.”

“I know you’ve said you’re not really sure, but did he ever tell you what his job entails?”

“He’s in the military. Some sort of security work, department of defense, or something. He never really talked about it.” Johnny shifts in his seat, antsy, and you shrug. “He kept that part of his life very, very private. There was even a room in the house that was always locked.” Your head is heavy, lead upon your shoulders, and Johnny tucks his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

“I know this is hard bun, but ye’re so brave for us. Lettin’ us know ye this way. I’m proud of ye.” He murmurs, lips to your forehead, and you fully relax, wrapping around his middle.

“I’m tired.” You whisper, eyes closing, and he rubs your back.

“Let’s get ye to bed then.”

“Your child is too big for me to carry!” You announce, hand on your hip, little backpack straps looped around your arm. Simon closes the door behind you, chuckling, and Penny plops onto the floor. She goes to a nursery day program now a few days a week, something that was a contentious subject in the house for far too long, opinions and arguments ping ponging over your head until the decision was finally made.

“It’s not safe.”

“Ye cannae keep ‘er locked up here forever, love.”

“Why not?” Simon bounced Penny against his chest, unimpressed look on both their faces, so alike you almost busted out laughing.

“Because she’s a child. She needs to be w’other children, not just us.” Johnny brings his free hand to his lips, squeezing Simon’s wrist. “I know ye’re scared.” Simon’s not the only one who’s scared, you thought. Phillip lurked at the edge of your mind, worry that he might find Penny plagued you, even though they both assured that wasn’t their main concern.

“She’s too little.”

“Simon. We agreed on this,” Johnny gives him a sharp look, “do yer research, find the best one. Ye know this needs to happen, for her. She needs to make friends, learn how to interact with kids her own age. Ye know this.”

“Fine.”

“She cannae be, not m’wee lamb.”

“She is.” You rub your shoulder. “Sheesh.” Penny’s stomach gurgles at your feet, and Simon grimaces.

“There’s a bug goin’ around the kids, teacher told me today.”

“Not surprising. Nurseries are little petri dishes.” You straighten your back, rolling your shoulder, and wince.

“Hurts?” Simon’s thumb digs into the soft spot there, and your lashes flutter.

“Maybe ye need a hot bath,” Johnny suggests, and Simon ushers the two of you up the stairs.

“I’ve got Pen. Go relax.”

“This is nice.” Johnny soaps your back, lavender and vanilla steam swirling around in the bathroom as you lean against him, his chest to your back.

“Aye.” The cloth drags across your chest, teasing your nipples, and you revel in his touch, soaking in every second he gives you, the brush of his cheek against yours, his lips on your neck. “Like havin’ ye all to myself sometimes.” You blink.

“Does it bother you? When we’re not all together?”

“No. Ye have a relationship wit’ me, and wit’ Simon, and we have a relationship all together. No one is the same. I like it.”

“Me too.” You settle again, loose and tender in the bath, soaped hands running up and down your back, kneading your shoulders, releasing the tension coiled in your bones. You groan.

“Feel good then?”

“Yeah.” He presses a hand over your heart with a deep breath, before he takes another.

And then one more.

“What’s wro-“

“I love ye bun. Wholly. Think ‘ve loved ye since the day I opened my eyes to ye leaning over the bed in hospital.” You turn, twisting to face him, and he dabs your nose with his thumb. “I dinnae have any expectations of ye, or yer feelings, but I had to be honest. I had to tell ye.” The confession fights its way forward, begging to be let out, to be freed.

Tell him. Tell him the truth. Tell him you love them, that they’re your light, that they’ve chased the darkness away and replaced it with the sun.

You can’t.

Instead, you rest your forehead against his, syncing your breathing, sharing the moment, holding onto him so tight in case he slips away.

“I can’t say it.” You whisper, and he nods. “But that doesn’t mean… it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“An’ that’s okay. I’ll wait, I’ll wait for ye as long as ye need.” There’s no pressure, no demands, just Johnny and his arms, his understanding and patience, his love.

You blink back tears and crash your lips to his. “Thank you.”

Your stomach is what wakes you.  

Something it in is burning, tossing bile around, the sensation strong enough your lips curl, and you try to draw a deep breath through your nose.

You wriggle, trying to pull free from where you’re tangled up in Simon and Johnny, carefully and slow, hoping to avoid waking them though you know even in their dreams, they sleep with one eye open.

 Still, you manage to make it to the bathroom before feet are padding across the carpet on your heels.

You sink to your knees in front of the toilet, stomach bubbling, sending the scorching remnants of dinner up your throat.

The door clicks open. “No, get out. I don’t want you to see-“ you gag again, tap turning on at the sink, a cold washcloth folding over your neck.

“Shhh,” Simon murmurs, rubbing your back, “get it all out.”

“Oh god,” another wave swells, and your muscles tense, body expelling bits of bile and not much else.

“That’s the way, good girl.”

“This is gross.” You gasp. “You should go back to bed.”

“I’ve seen way worse than you puking, sweetheart.”

“She alright?” Johnny half yells from the bedroom and you groan. The guilt of him having to maneuver himself out of bed, still not one hundred percent healthy, still not back to full strength, draws a shiver from your spine.

“I’m fine, don’t come in here!” Your stomach pitches, fingers tightening against your thighs, but nothing comes up, again and again, until everything settles and you’re breathing deeply, steady, back straight.

“Let’s get you some water.” There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s going to do what he wants to do when it comes to taking care of you, you know that now. It’s painfully clear as he tries to help you drink from the glass, and then puts toothpaste on your toothbrush.

“I’m fine.” You assure weakly, but he only watches you, concerned.

“Think it’s the nursery bug?”

“Probably.” You sag, energy drained completely, and he steadies you, cupping your cheek. His touch is cool, and you lean into it, savoring the reprieve it brings against your throbbing temples.

“Want to go back to bed?”

“What if I throw up again?” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll jus’ clean it up.”

“Can I ask you a question?” You glance up at the timid mouse of a nurse, brand new, fingers clutched around a tablet like she’s drowning and it’s her life vest.

“What’s up?”

“Can you… can you look at these orders for me?” She looks terrified, and it tells you everything you need to know. She’s probably caught a mistake.

Baby nurses begin their careers in a delicate position. They’re overwhelmed, fresh off a whirlwind of orientation, overloaded with policy and procedure, and depending on their preceptor, either somewhat prepared or completely lost. Pitting a baby nurse against a provider, even a first-year resident, is like sending a lamb in to confront a lion. The result is usually tears.

She hands you the tablet and you spot it immediately. Incorrect dosage.

“Good catch.” You reassure, coaxing a small smile, and she nods.

“What do I do?”

“We go find the provider and clarify the dosage.” You’re not going to leave it up to her, alone, hang her out to dry and probably get run over by whatever moron ordered it in the first place, who happens to be-

Marshall.

Your eyes couldn’t roll any harder. “The pharmacy is also very on top of seeing errors like this, but it’s good you’ve noticed too, for the patient and yourself. Liability for things like this can be very tricky.” She nods again, trailing behind you, brand new squeaky sneakers echoing your own steps.

You can’t stop the sigh that escapes you when you find him, leaned up against a wall, arms crossed, smirking, cocking his head at your companion. “What’s up?”

“Can you take a look at this for me?” You purposefully zoom in on the meds tab, practically painting a bullseye around his error. He scoffs, defensive immediately, dismissive, before he takes a closer look, jaw clenched.

“That’s my mistake.” You blink. Marshall rarely ever takes responsibility so gracefully. Your eyebrow lifts.

“Care to fix it?”

“Of course.” His agreement is punctuated with a smile, though it’s off kilter.

“You can go,” you nod to the nurse, “good job.” Her eyes dart between you and Marshall, and without another word, scampers off.

“She’s new?” His usual interest in new nurses is less enthusiastic than ever.

You hate Marshall. He’s a scumbag. But he’s also been your coworker since day one, and you can’t help yourself. “What’s up with you?”  

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve never owned up to a mistake that quickly, and you didn’t even make some smart-ass remark. Or berate her. Or give me an attitude.” He winces.

“It’s nothing.” But it doesn’t seem like nothing. It seems like something is wrong, like he’s sad, or depressed, and try as you might, your bleeding heart can’t walk away.

“What’s wrong.” You phrase a statement, a demand, instead of a question, and he blows a frustrated breath.

“It’s… I’m seeing someone.” Your eyes go wide.

“Who?” Please don’t say a nurse, please don’t say a nurse, please-

“Anna. From radiology.”

“Oh my god. The cupcake girl?” Anna was a fan favorite. Not only was she kind, but she was also quick with her reads, and baked cupcakes for the entire floor almost once a month. As far as radiologists go, she was better than most.

“Yeah.”

“Okay…”

“I really like her but… she’s always been aware of my reputation and is trying to take it slow. Too slow.” You could lecture him with a million reasons why she’s in the right, but it doesn’t seem like he’s got the resolve to handle it.

“What do you mean?”

“She’s dragging her feet. Doesn’t want to hang out more than once a week, rarely stays the night. I’ve been to her place a handful of times, but that’s it.”

“How long has it been?”

“Two months.” You laugh.

“That’s it?”

“It’s a long time for me!” You hold your hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay, but seriously. Two months is no time at all. Have you discussed the… reluctance with her?” He seems uneasy, and for the first time, you’re not sure if you enjoy watching him squirm.

“Yeah. She says she’s happy, but isn’t trying to jump into anything,” his air quotes carry a whiff of the condescending asshole you know too well. This conversation couldn’t be timelier, and you think back to what you told Johnny the other night.

“Just because she’s taking it slow doesn’t mean her feelings for you aren’t there. You have to respect that. If she’s still putting up with you after two months, I’d bet she’s just being cautious. Getting hurt sucks.” He nods thoughtfully. “Give her the time she’s asking for, and don’t give up.”

Don’t give up.

The sentiment twists a knife lodged deep in your heart. Is that what will happen to you? Will they give up? Get tired of waiting for you to spill all your secrets, get tired of waiting for you to take the final step? To tell them you love them?

Get tired of waiting for you to let them use your real name?

“I didn’t expect her, didn’t expect to feel this way.” The mask comes down, revealing a hopelessly lovesick heart, the depth of it shining in his eyes.

“I don’t think anyone ever does expect it. That’s the surprising thing about love, I guess.” You sway, a palm pressed to the wall as your hand flattens over your stomach.

“You alright?” Marshall’s voice is far away as you breathe through your nose, trying to fend off the nausea tightening your throat.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit under the weather. Think I’ve got a bug or something.” Your stomach roils in warning, and you barely grit out an apology before dashing away.

Just in time to toss your breakfast up in the toilet.

“I’m fine.”

“I heard you in the toilet. You didn’t sound fine, and you shouldn’t be working if you’re sick.” Your manager shakes her head like she’s disappointed, and you glare. You both know if you had called this morning talking about a stomach bug, she would have told you to suck it up unless you were actively vomiting.

“Look around. Do you see an excess of nurses on the floor?”

“We’ll manage. Or call someone in.” You shake your head.

“We’re already way past policy ratios.” You bite your tongue when safe nearly slips out, not wanting to piss her off. That’s the union’s job.

“At least go sit down or something. Take a break. Come back in twenty minutes and let me know how you feel.”

Your closet is cozy, and for once during the day, unoccupied. The nausea has subsided, for now, and you shoot a text to the guys, asking about Penny. If you feel like this, you can’t imagine how she feels.

You curl up and imagine you’re home instead, maybe in bed with a sleeve of crackers and some soda, warm chest at your back, a hand stroking over your hip. Maybe you’d have some soup, maybe the three of you would watch a movie after Pen went down for bed. You start to drift in the domestic fantasy, sleeping curling itself like a blanket over your shoulders, until you’re startled by the vibration of your phone, foot kicking forward in a jolt against a shelf.

A box falls to the floor.

HCG strips.

You stare at it for a long time, numbers and dates and weeks mashing together, calculations getting lost in the fray.

You’re not…

No.

Ridiculous. Not even possible. You’re on the pill. Religiously.

You have the nursery bug that Pen brought home. Get a grip.

Still…

You use the fifth-floor bathroom, one of the only single occupant toilets in the whole damn hospital, nausea now coming from a completely different source.

The timer on your phone is incredibly slow, or maybe it’s just time itself, the world turning in slow motion, every second elongated into turbulent silence, too many thoughts, too many feelings, too much of everything to tell where one ends and the other begins.

Fear.

Anxiety.

Panic.

Sadness.

Grief.

It’s grief that is the strongest. Grief for something that Phillip stole, mourning for something that was once so close, so real, and then gone in an instant.

If you close your eyes, you can still feel his boot in your stomach. The press of a steel toe, jammed beneath your ribs, wild, deranged eyes staring down at you in a rage.

But-

Buried so, so far beneath the crushing weight of it all, there is a bright little pocket of sunshine. A small little sliver of light, beams of hope stretching for the sky, warmth spilling over until your hands tremble with the conflict warring inside you.

Nothing has changed, but everything could.

The timer goes off with a shrill chime, and you lean over the sink to where the small strip sits on top of a cup.

A bold pink line.

And then another, more faint, but certainly there. A simple equation, one plus one equals two. Simple math.

Tangible. Present.

Pregnant.

[emmyrosee]

Pls pls pls help a girl out!!

Its shark 🦈 week and whenever I’m in shark week I crave angst full on body angst ne you write it best 😭 pity me

I write it the best…? 🥺🩷 also no specific character in mind for this, but yall are married so 🫶🏻

————-

You’ve been yelling at each other for hours.

The circles of verbal assault haven’t slowed its pace, vile, cruel words flying from one mouth to pierce the heart of the other, only for the other words to come harder, meaner, louder. The throes of anger keep you both pinned in place, unable to stop, think, and see the damage you’re causing each other.

Your hands are swollen from your fists being so tightly balled, migraine forming from your scowling. His brows are stuck pinched in the center of his forehead, so deep you’re convinced they’ll stay there for days after you’re done. His teeth are grit so tight together that you want to massage his jaw to make them loosen before he shatters his pearly whites into pieces.

The culprit? A cold cup of tea, that now sits to the side dejectedly.

Because of that cold cup of tea, you’ve been screaming for two, going onto three hours, with no end in sight.

But, it’s not about the cold tea. It’s about the fact that the urgency in your love is gone, the quickness and determination to be with each other has dissolved into nothing but sugar melting in a mug of tea. Your time together has been awkward, it’s been minimal, and in your search to do something nice for him, like a warm cup of tea, he allowed it to get cold, and… what happened next?

There’s boundaries being crossed, lines of truce being broken as you cast vicious words against each other, the use of insecurities to make the other crumble and conjure a look of hurt, only to morph to disgust and yell back something even more heinous.

And yet…

“What did I even marry you for?” He snarls, throwing his arms out. “I’m certain it wasn’t for this! So why are we wasting our time right now?”

Your world stops.

In an instant, all words die on your tongue. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish as all you can think about are his words. They repeat in your head, almost in slow motion, as your heart sinks in your chest.

“What…?” you croak. Your throat is dry, mouth cottony, and you silently pray to anything, holy and not, merciful and malicious, that you didn’t hear him right. Your mind is lying, so tired of fighting you’re seeing the worst in him as a defense mechanism.

“You heard me,” he barks. “Your life is so miserable? You hate it here so much? GO.”

You heard him right.

You wished you hadn’t.

Your arms come up to cradle yourself in comfort, the fire swirling in your chest now extinguished, the once lively fight now being reduced to a ringing in your ear.

You’d… when did he…

“You don’t get to sit here, call me a cheater, a loser, a liar, all for your own good mind. Not when I’ve put my whole LIFE into you. I gave you my WHOLE. LIFE.”

“Why…”

“What?” He snarls.

You sniffle. Your bottom lip wobbles, and you blink a line of scalding tears out; you’re surprised they don’t sizzle your flesh from being so hot with frustration.

“Why… are you being so mean?”

“Mean?” He snaps. “Mean, you’ve called me some of the cruelest shit I’ve ever heard in your vocabulary, but I’m being mean? Do you even hear yourself, IM THE MEAN ONE?”

“Do you really wonder why you married me…?”

Your voice is so quiet, you wonder if he heard you.

He opens his mouth to spew his venom, only to stop dead in his tracks. His brows soften as his eyes widen, jaw slacking subtly. For the first time tonight, the room is quiet; still thick enough to cut the tension with a blade, but it’s quiet enough where you both can gather your thoughts.

You wipe your nose with your arm, “do you really think I want to stay here and fight with you? Is that how you think I want to spend my night with you?” You sob softly, “because it’s not. I don’t want to fight with you over cold tea… I don’t want to…”

You can practically see the lightbulb over his head light up. That’s right, you think to yourself. This is about tea.

“I…”

“I don’t question why I married you,” you whimper. “I know exactly why- because I love you. But the man I know would never, and I mean never, verbally assault and question his love for me over a cold. Cup. Of. Tea.”

“I don’t…” he shakes softly. “How did we get here…?”

“You started this war,” you hiss. “I didn’t.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t you fucking baby me,” you snap. “No. You don’t get to do that as a way to weasel out of this. You’re not going to guilt me with pet names to forgive you.”

“No, no, baby- damn, no, I mean-“

“You know what?” You pull your lips down into a frown and throw your hands out in defeat. “You want me gone so bad? I’m gone.”

“No, no, wait,” he begs, reaching out for one of your hands. You whip them back like he’s made of fire, and he reels away, as if keeping you safe, “no, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t question my love for you, I’d rather die than ever have you wonder if I love you-“

“Then you’d better have a goddamned good explanation for this,” you hiss. “Because right now? We’re done.”

“No!”

“I’m…” your strength is gone. Your lip quivers and your hand comes up to cover your mouth, and you wail as you make a dash out of the room, darting for the bedroom. You lock the door and slam your fist against the wood, screaming, howling in agony at the heartbreak of potentially losing your husband over a cold cup of tea.

Things spiraled so far out of control, that he questioned his love for you. How are you to come back from that? Angry words are truth shrouded in cruelty, and you are not going to let him berate you in such a manner as to wonder if this marriage was a good choice. You deserve far more, far better, than that.

On the other side of the door, you hear a soft poomf, then a thump. You stop crying to try and figure out the noises and their purpose.

“I’m here,” he says quietly, a far different tone from how he was speaking to you not three minutes ago. “I won’t try to come in. I won’t make you talk to me. But I’m here… and I love you. And I’m sorry.”

“Bite me,” you choke.

You hear him sigh through his nose, “I… I know why I married you,” he whispers. You don’t say anything. He continues regardless, “because you’re you. And on our first date, you were late because you hated the outfit you had planned, but you looked so fucking good, I couldn’t handle it. And it was that day, I decided I wanted to wait for you, forever. You are more than worth waiting for. And…” you hear him clear his throat, but there’s an emotional block in his voice, “I’ll keep waiting for you. Right here, on this floor. I’ll sleep, I’ll eat, I’ll piss I’ll die here, I don’t care, I’m right here. And I’ll stay here to prove that you’re worth waiting for.” He shudders.

“I’m happy to wait for you.”

———

haikyuu: daichi, kageyama, tsukishima, kuroo, yaku, iwaizumi, mattsun, hanamakki, oikawa, kyotani, ushijima (different font), kita (also different font), atsumu, osamu, suna, sakusa, meian

bnha: bakugou, dabi, hawks

jjk: gojo, geto, nanami, sukuna, toji, shiu

tokyo rev: baji, draken, mikey, hanma, rindou

[babbymochiiii]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ 𝑃𝐿𝐸𝐴𝑆𝐸 𝐿𝐸𝑇 𝑀𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃 𝑌𝑂𝑈: 𝐻𝑈𝐴𝑁𝐺 𝑅𝐸𝑁𝐽𝑈𝑁

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ cyborg! renjun x afab creator! reader; please let me help you...it's what i'm meant for.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ warnings: 18+ MDNI, nipple play, self fingering, whimpery and beg-ish renjun, fast learner renjun, making out, slight oral (f), pent up frustration being taken out on reader, p in v, creampie, not proof read, etc...if i missed anything let me know pls ;P

⊹ ࣪ ˖ author's note: INSPIRED BY THE SONG THE MACHINE BY REED WONDERS & AURORA OLIVAS ( listen to it if you haven't, such a good song! ) thank you so much for 300+ follows! it means so much to see you guys wanting to keep up with my writing 🥹 as a little thank you, here is this fic for you!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ word count: 3.8k

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ m.list for more fics!

You were stressed.  

Beyond stressed at that.  

You looked towards the papers in front of you with frowned eyebrows as you mentally cursed at them for making you so stressed out. you let out a deep sigh as you ran your hands through your hair before resting your head at the crook of your arm.  

Renjun assessed you from the corner of your room as he scanned through his system trying to figure out the exact solution for him to help you. He softly called out your name, to which earned a soft hum of a response from you. 

“Do you wish for me to help you in anyway?” he asks as he looks at you with the softest expression you have ever seen him give you.  

Great. You thought. I’m being pitied by my own creation. This causes another sigh to escape your lips before you turned your head to the side to fully look towards him. “I’m okay Renjun. Just —” another sigh. “— just having a hard time trying to figure out this equation here and nothing is working.”  

Renjun frowned towards you as he knew there was something more than this and he could not pinpoint the exact reason as to why this made his chest hurt. “But —”  

“Really I'm okay, Renjun.” you said as you tried to give him the best convincing smile you could muster.  

Not fully convinced at this point, Renjun lets it go as he knew it would cause an issue with you and he did not want to see you even more stressed than you already were.  

Renjun knew why he was created by you. At least he understood why you did. You were lonely, and just wanted someone that could love you and fully understand you as the way you were without changing who you were for anyone. But he could not understand why you never used him like he was supposed to be used for. It broke his heart, well his metaphorical heart, to know that you were hesitant to do more with him as he wanted to do so much with you. He just did not want to push you.  

You always rested with Renjun by your side in bed, it was your way of making sure you got your full rest. But for some reason, tonight you were having a challenging time getting that said rest. You kept tossing and turning trying to find the most comfortable spot on your bed. A sigh escapes through your lips, and you lay your hand on your forehead as frustration crawling through your entire body.  

A thought crossed your mind that made your body flush at the thought. You turned your head to the side and were met with Renjun’s figure sleeping soundly next to you. Blessing your past self in the moment for creating the program in which he would require a certain amount of sleep to properly function. Not wanting to waste the open window you had, knowing that in an hour or two, Renjun would wake up soon as his sleep cycle would be ending.  

You started to mess with your nipples through your shirt. As you continued to tease and roll them with your thumb and pointer finger, you gently removed one hand from a nipple and used to trace down your sternum and down to your navel, creating a ticklish sensation that causes you to sigh in content. You finally reached the band of your underwear; you slowly pushed your hand underneath the waistband.  

You bring your fingertips down towards your folds. Completely passing your clit wanting to further tease yourself and moved towards your entrance where you knew you could gather enough slick to mess with your clit. Once you felt that you had gathered enough slick on your fingertips, you moved it towards your swollen hood and gently applied pressure on it. A shudder of a moan escapes your lips at the pressure you were creating as this was exactly what was going to help you sleep for the rest of the night.  

Slowly, you started to apply more pressure as you started to move your fingertips in the way you liked it so on your swollen clit. Small moans escape your lips as the sensations you were creating were descending on your legs. As you started to pick up the pace, a loud moan slipped through your mouth which caused you to cover your mouth with your free hand and quickly cast a glance towards Renjun.  

Biting your lower lip, you remove your hand from covering your mouth and bring it down towards your wet folds. You started to feel around your slicked entrance, collecting as many fluids as possible around your fingers before you slowly slipped one into your entrance.  

As you started to pump your finger inside of you, one finger became two fingers inside of you as you continued to chase after your height. The slow starting out pace you had quickly turned into a faster paced on as you started to follow the pace you had on your clit.  

So, entrapment in your blissful world of pleasure, you failed to notice how Renjun stirred a bit before waking up fully.  

Renjun felt himself blink his eyes slowly, adjusting them a bit in the dark room. His senses slowly came to him and the first thing that did was his hearing.  

He could hear the way you let out muffled moans through your mouth, the squelching sounds that came out from your entrance as you fucked yourself with your fingers.  

Could this finally be it? Renjun wondered. Can this finally be the time she uses me as she intended me for? 

Renjun tried his best not to make his presence known now as he was not sure how you would react to him waking up and just listening in on you trying to pleasure yourself.  

So, naturally he waited. 

Minutes continued to pass and Renjun continued to lay idle as he heard you pleasure yourself. He felt completely perverted knowing that he had not made his presence known to you, but he did not want you to stop because...it felt like he was the one helping you reach your peak.  

You were about to reach your height when you heard the smallest sound of a whimper. Too into pleasure you just thought it was yourself, so you just continued chasing the feeling within you. Just as you felt the feeling tighten within your core, you heard the faintest whisper of your name.  

You turned your head to the side to see a completely flustered Renjun looking at you with such doe like eyes and a deep flush on your face.  

“y/n...” he whimpered your name again in such a breathless way that it completely took you over the edge.  

Unexpectedly, you felt your core tighten completely and release in such an intense manner that it made you see stars briefly. You knew you were close to an orgasm but, seeing Renjun’s expression and the way he cried out your name was enough to set you over the edge.  

Trying your best to catch your breath, you turned your gaze to Renjun.  

“How long —” you cut yourself off as you felt your skin flush at the thought of how long he could’ve been watching you. “— how long have you been watching me?” you question as you placed your hands on your chest.  

Renjun felt his ears heat up as he avoided your gaze for a moment as he didn’t know how to put into words the feelings he felt while watching you. “N-not that long.” He said gently and watched with a calculated stare for your reaction.  

You turned to face forward to stare at the ceiling as you tried to understand the situation fully and to put all your thoughts together. You knew that Renjun would wake up at any moment the moment you started to pleasure yourself but to be fair you didn’t think it would take you that long to finish.  

All it took was to look at him and hear him say your name. That one voice spoke in the back of your mind, though as much as you wanted to be annoyed with it, you knew it was right. It was right in the way that you were scared to even admit to yourself for a while now. You knew the reason why you built Renjun, and the sole reason as to why you created him the way you did. It was to help you get through the loneliness you had but to also help you with any pent up stress that you had. And yet...you never used him in such way as you started to see him as a human being.  

Renjun did have a program where he could understand and fully act like a human being himself, but you still held back just because you weren’t sure you were the one that was ready to take it there with him.  

So caught up in your own thoughts, you almost missed the way Renjun moved closer to your side and placed a tender hand on your face and gently turning your face to where you can face him.  

“Please —” his voice breaks. “— please let me help you.” he begged you as his eyes started to water a bit.  

You were completely stunned at his reaction. You didn’t know what to say or what exactly to make of this situation but, your body had a different thing to say in the matter. Before you could even fully process what was happening, you leaned into the little bit of space that was left between the two of you. You placed a tender kiss onto Renjun’s lips to which he recuperated back. The two of you slowly explored one another's mouths, trying to figure out the pace the other wanted to place.  

Completely enamored with the taste, Renjun couldn’t help but place his hands into your hair, slightly pulling on the strands collecting the moan that rushed out of your parted lips and pulling you much closer to him. Going off of instinct alone, Renjun pulls himself up from the bed and pushes your legs open with his knee creating a space for his body.  

The moment his knee made contact with your quivering nerves, you let out a whimper into the kiss as you involuntarily rocked your hips on his knee trying to chase for that delicious sensation that was overstimulation.  

Renjun pulled away from your lips and started to place tender kisses along the column of your neck along with small bite marks in between each kiss that only elicited the prettiest moan he has heard leave your mouth this whole night so far.  

I wonder what she would sound like when I kissed between her legs... Renjun couldn’t help but wonder to himself as he started to leave open mouth kisses down your navel and on each side of your hips. The moment his lips reached your lushest thighs, he couldn’t help himself but teasingly bite them as his hands slowly made their way down. When his hands reach your thighs, he grabs a handful of the fat of the thigh that causes a whimper to escape your lips as you prompt your elbows up to take a look at him from your hooded eye lids.  

“W-what are you doing?” you asked out of breath as you felt your heart hammer even harder in its place in your chest.  

“I wanna taste you...” Renjun muttered as he placed a small kiss on your clothed clit.  

Before you could say anything to Renjun, he pulled your panties to the side and kitten licked your sensitive nub. Not being enough for him, he licks a strip from your entrance up to your clit with the fat of his tongue.  

The sensation of Renjun just licking up and between your folds was enough to send your toes curling and your eyes to turn to the back of your skull. He continued licking and sucking your folds as his goal was to suck out as much of those delicious moans out of you as he can.  

Remembering the movements you did on yourself you reach your own high earlier, Renjun softly placed the pad of his fingers on your entrance as he only wanted to gather up as much slick and spit as he could before he pressed his slicked-covered fingers onto your clit.  

This draws out a high pitched moan from you as he started to create tight, small circles on your clit. At this point you were a panting mess as you wondered how he knew your body so well. 

“H-how —” you cut yourself off as you felt his tongue start to gather up as much of your sweetened slick as he could on his tongue.  

“I’m just applying the things I've seen you do on yourself.” Renjun answered between licks as he couldn’t get enough of your taste.  

As he continued, you felt your stomach tighten as he started to flick your clit. “P-please not like this —” you cried out as you arched your back off of the bed.  

Renjun stopped all motions and looked at you for a moment. “Do you want me inside of you?” He gently asks as he starts to sit on his knees, waiting for your answer.  

You nodded your head as you hurriedly answered him. “Yes! Y-yes please I want to finish on your cock.” you said as you looked at him with such a deep and pretty flush on your face, only making him lose his composure even more.  

Without answering you, Renjun rushes to lean into you for another heated kiss as you opened your legs wide for him to be able to insert himself between your legs. As the two of you fought for the little bit of dominance in the kiss, you started to push down at the sweats that laid on his hips with your feet as you felt yourself growing desperate for not having him inside of you. The same was being done with you, Renjun took hold of your panties into his hands and just ripped them in half as he didn’t want to wait any longer as well.  

Once you were both successfully naked on your bottom halves, you both pulled away from the kiss and looked down towards where Renjun’s cock was resting painfully hard on your thigh.  

Oh... you knew that Renjun was packing, for God’s sake you were the one that designed it for him. But seeing it for the first time in such way...it was making your mouth water at the pretty sight before you.  

Renjun was on the thick side of the things, with the prettiest shade of pink for his tip. A couple of throbbing veins adorned the side of his cock that you were just dying to feel inside of you.  

Before you could say anything to him, Renjun took hold of the base of his cock and guided it to between your folds to gather up as much slick as he could. Feeling like he needed his dick a bit more wet, he spat on himself, and your glistening folds a couple times to where he gave a content smile. He then guided his tip towards your awaiting entrance.  

Renjun started to slowly push his fat tip into your tight entrance that caused for a groan to leave his lips and for a moan to leave yours. He continued to push himself inch by inch until he was fully seethed inside of you.   

You knew Renjun wasn’t moving as he was letting you adjust to his size considering he didn’t fully prep you for his size, but how could think about him adjusting when you needed him to start moving or you thought you were going to go crazy at the stillness.  

“Renjun...s-so full.” you whimpered as you placed your hands on his shoulders and lightly dug your finger nails into them creating half-moon indents. 

He slowly started to glide against your gummy walls, and you swore you felt one of his veins thump violently inside of you. Renjun swore under his breath as he tried to hold in his load as he didn’t want to ejaculate prematurely just because of how your warmth was consuming him whole.  

You watched the way Renjun couldn’t take his eyes off of where the two of you became one. You watched the way his eyebrows frowned in pleasure as small pants started to come out of his mouth. Renjun’s gaze switched up to you to see how you were handling everything, and he swore he felt something within him snap at the look of ecstasy on your face.  

Without much warning to you, Renjun pulled out almost completely just leaving his tip inside of you and thrusted fully in one go. This caused you to arch you back off of the bed with a squeal.  

“S-sorry! Did I hurt you?” Renjun panicked as he completely stayed still inside of you as he wasn’t sure how to take your reaction.  

“N-no just — ah! — just felt so good.” you moaned out as you felt Renjun’s tip nudge slightly at your cervix.  

“Oh...” he muttered quietly as he looked down at where the two of you connected once again before he started to create a fast pace.  

Short, quick pants leave your lips as you tried to keep up with the fast pace Renjun was going at now. You felt more of your wetness sleek out of you as you watched the way he was completely zooned onto your stomach as he watched the way each time, he pounded in he could see a slight bulge through your stomach.  

You went to say something to him when he suddenly started to pick up an even faster pace and was hitting that spot within you that you yourself couldn't even get to.  

“F-fuck — mmgh! —  you feel so good.” Renjun grunted out as he took hold of your legs and pulled them over his shoulders, putting you into such a mean mating press.  

“Junie!” you cried out as you felt him go into a deeper angle inside of you.  

“Made me wait for so long for you to use me the way I was intended to.” he said as he pushed your thighs down further against your chest.  

“Had to fucking watch you fuck yourself with your fingers for you to even let me fuck you.” he grunted between each thrust as he pushed down on your hips, so you wouldn’t move an inch as he continued his ruthless pace on your wet cunt.  

At this point you were a complete squelching mess as Renjun kept fucking into you relentlessly. You felt your mouth fall open as silent moans fall through your lips as he continued to hit your g-spot with such precise hits.  

“Did you enjoy the fact that I was watching you the whole time baby, hmm?” he teased as he pressed down on your neglected clit causing you to arch your back as much as you could off of the bed. “Tell me baby, did you?”  

You felt your head move up and down numbly as you felt yourself getting completely dumb on his delicious cock. Renjun took hold of your face and squished your cheeks together in such a degrading way that you felt yourself clenching, causing Renjun to falter a bit at the sensation.  

“Use your words when I’m talking to you.” Renjun said as he leaned his face down to where your lips grazed one another.  

A breathless moan leaves your squished lips as you nodded your head which quickly followed a squealing response; “Y-yes!”  

“Such a good girl.” Renjun groaned out as he placed his lips on yours as he let his hand go from your face as it loosely wrapped around your neck.  

As the of you made out, Renjun created faster and tighter circles against your clit making you whimper into the kiss that he swallowed as your tongues glided against one another. Your felt your core starting to tighten signaling that you were close to your second release of the night.  

“I’m — ngh! Ah! — I'm close!” you moaned out once Renjun moved away from your lips to lean down and place love marks on your breasts before he started to lap his tongue against your sensitive nipples.  

Renjun knew you were close to the way your velvety walls start to contract against his cock in such a delicious grip that he was so close to blowing his load inside of you completely.  

“Can feel you clenching so tightly around me baby...” Renjun said as he felt his thrusts become staggering and somewhat sloppy as he knew he was also close.  

“Junie please, please, please come with me!” you whined out as you started to feel the tightening sensation become too much causing for tears to brim against your water line.  

“Fuck baby.” Renjun moaned out as he started losing all resolve in holding out as much as he could.  

With a small whimper, Renjun looked into your eyes, and you too saw tears brimming at his water lines as the sensation of cumming was all but new to him. You took hold of his face in your hands as you knew he was having a hard time letting go.  

“Come with me baby.” you whispered gently between the two of you.  

With one last hard thrust, he came with a mix of a whimper and grunt as the gentle, fucked out expression and words you were giving him was just the right push he needed.  

As you felt ropes of his cum start to paint the inside of your walls, it was what you just needed as your core tightened completely before releasing in such an Earth shattering orgasm.  

You felt Renjun start to soften inside you as you both tried to catch your breath. Renjun placed his forehead against yours as the two of you basked in your post-sex glow. Slowly, Renjun removed himself from inside of you with a low hiss before he laid by your side and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.  

He gently moved the strands of your hair that stuck onto your sweaty forehead out of way, he started to place gentle kisses along your face before he landed on your lips, kissing you gently.  

“Don’t do that to me ever again please.” Renjun whispered against your lips.  

“I promise baby.” You whispered back to him with a small kiss.  

Renjun leaned down and connected your lips into another gentle kiss, sealing the promise between the two of you as he held onto you tightly by his side.  

a/n: thank you for reading and thank you again for 300+ follows!

[nightingale-prompts]

Saving Batboy

First | Previous | Next

It was as though he was being led through the city. Dick seemed to know exactly where he should go next as he drove.

Dick turned off his location as he closed in on Joker's location. If anyone had doubts about what would happen tonight they knew now. The clown dies tonight.

Batman never did it because he knew there would be no coming back once he crossed that line but he was not Batman.

Tim knew the moment Nightwing's symbol disappeared that he had found Joker's location. He knew he could track him still based on where he was before but he held off. The last time Dick crossed the line and killed the Joker, Tim was there to stop him. In the time since Tim had grown to regret it. Especially after Jason's return. He should be avenged after everything that happened.

Tim never put much thought into what happened when he was kidnapped just like Danny. Joker Jr was just a nightmare and everyone pretends it didn't happen. His past self doesn't exist to him and the gaps in his memory are better as they are.

If Dick was really going to finish this then Tim wasn't going to stop him. Bruce's code was his code alone. What of the Robins that suffer for it? What about his kids that he loves to the point of self-destruction if they die?

It was clear to Tim now. Batman isn't strong enough to kill Joker. If he can't handle it, someone else would.

Maybe Dick just cared more. Or maybe he had seen this happen too many times to sit by and let it happen again. The cost be damned.

Tim took a deep breath. He knew it was a bad move but he shut down the bat computer. No one could locate each other for the next 10 minutes. Enough time to give Dick the lead he really needs. All the comms are down and no information can be shared.

Tim looked up and saw Alfred putting down a cup of tea for him. Tim felt like a child caught doing something wrong under Alfred. But Alfred nodded wordlessly before turning to leave. He cast a forlorn glance at Jason's robin uniform before ascending the stairs.

****

"I was hoping Batman would come for the little bat. Oh sorry, I mean the boy." Joker mocked holding Danny by the back of the neck.

The teen's body was limp. His silver locks stained a rusty brown from dried blood. Blood covered his back and legs. If there had been any doubt if the wings were real there is none now.

"…" Nightwingwing said nothing. His fist clenched.

"You know I debated skinning him next. That fur of his would be a lovely shawl. It's so soft. But it looks like I won't have the time now." Joker provoked, running a hand through the boy's white neck fur.

"Get your hands off him." Nightwing demanded, his eyes locked on Danny for any signs of life.

"You know I am so curious what he was doing here. I was about to build a new trap here for fun when I stumbled upon this little guy here. Practically gift-wrapped. Did he run away from you? Just like you did from good ol'papa bat." Joker's smile widened sickeningly "This all feels so familiar, doesn't it little bird? Are you going to finish what you started?"

"I'm never letting you hurt my family again." No witty one-liners. No games. This bad joke ends today.

****

Batman had scoured the area. He memorize the last location Dick was before the system went down. He wasn't these kids' father for nothing he knew what they were doing.

When sound came back he had already made it to the abandoned factory. The comms rang back to life as the sounds of crying came through.

"Nononono…please no. Wake up. Please wake up." It was Dick's voice. "It's okay. I'm here now. So just wake up. We need to get home soon. Your favorite show will be on soon. WAKE UP! YOU CAN'T DIE!"

Batman bolted to their location and found Dick hovering over Danny trying to resuscitate him.

His son looked at him with pleading eyes.

"I can't hear his heart. He's not breathing." He let out a shaky breath. As distressed tears ran down his cheeks.

Bruce knelt next to them. Danny didn't react to the pressure on his chest. The pain should have at least caused an involuntary jerk if he wasn't too far gone.

Bruce signaled Dick to move back as he checked Danny's pulse again. Nothing. And he wasn't breathing. Bruce looked at his son. Deep down Dick probably knew.

"I'm sorry. He's gone." Bruce said simply as he took off his cloak.

Danny looked so peaceful. Like he was sleeping soundly. Bruce hated that his own suspension had been the thing that had prevented him from having a relationship with his own grandson. He felt foolish to not realize that of course Danny and Batboy were the same. It was a brilliant disguise. But he'd never get to say this to the boy.

Bruce wrapped the boy in his cloak.

"Come on. We'll fix this." He told Dick, carrying Danny for him.

The journey back to the manor was silent until.

"I'm sorry." Bruce said.

"Don't. Just Don't. He's my son. Its my fault." Dick rasped his voice scratchy from crying.

Bruce felt a bitter sting. That was exactly what he felt when he lost Jason and what happened with Tim. When Damian lost his life. These pains didn't go away.

When they arrived back in the Batcave Bruce laid Danny's body on the table. The others were notified about what happened and had already gathered.

Barbara looked like she had bawled her eyes out as she hugged Stephanie.

Damian had pressed himself close to Tim as the older brother told him that it was going to be okay.

The new hole in the wall was clearly Jason if his bloodied knuckles were any clues.

Cassandra paced the floor deep in thought. She was moments away from starting a new crusade.

Duke stared off into the distance. His anger boiling under the surface. All he could think about was the number of lives ruined by the Joker and even in death he took another.

Dick stood still as a statue. Thinking about if Danny could be brought back and even if he was his wings were gone. What if he was gone for good? Could he live like that?

Never had he understood Bruce more than in that moment.

Bruce braced himself for what would come next. He had a plan to bring Danny back at any cost.

But suddenly a sound broke through the tension.

A sneeze.

A fucking sneeze.

It came up from under the cloak.

Everyone snapped to look at the body hidden under the cloak. It shifted under the heavy black blanket groggily and yawned. Then Danny jumped up twisting to feel his back.

"What happened!!" He yelped.

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 5)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, this chapter is just smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, cum eating, nipple play, whiff of breeding kink (I'm very funny), biting, reader has a nightmare that's a little graphic but brief, Wade is very annoying lmao Author's note: I can't believe it's over!!!! It's insane to me how much love and support this had gotten :') I just want to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! Please enjoy! <3 ao3 Tags (if I forgot someone I'm so sorry!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @amararosesblog @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires @harryshousewhore @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy @geckosssssss

The next few days were a haze of food, sleeping, tender touches, and above all else, comfort. Most days I awoke to Wade cuddling close. Logan was too much of an early riser to stay in bed. He would get antsy the longer he lingered, grumbling about how he couldn’t just lay around all day. But I found that sleepy smiles and little nibbles to his jaw could convince him to stay. Even more so if I just happened to push my butt against his hips. 

My leg was healing well, the bruise fading to a dull purple after a few days. The pain was manageable but it always hurt in those first few hours of the day. Wade was more than happy to rub and kiss at my skin every morning. I stopped needing the painkillers during the day but Logan insisted I take one before bed to minimize any discomfort in the morning. It was easy to sleep with the numbing effects pumping through me. My body would feel heavy, my mind quiet and still. I never dreamed. I simply closed my eyes and awoke to the morning sun. 

But I was getting better. So I opted to not take one on their last night with me. It was hard to calm my racing mind and I tossed and turned before Logan snapped a heavy arm around me. “Do you want one?” He sleepily asked. Wade was already out, flat on his back, mouth open. Both of them were able to fall asleep in moments, a skill born from their military service, but Logan was unfortunately a light sleeper. 

“No,” I mumbled, tucking my head under his chin, running my nose along his throat. He had showered before getting into bed so the woody scent of his body wash was strong on his skin. “I need to stop relying on them, need to sleep on my own.” He hummed but stayed quiet. One of his big hands slipped under my shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto my skin. 

I was on the chair again but my limbs were free. I stood, looking around. No one was here. The concrete room was quiet and cold. I walked slowly to the large door, peaking through the small window. 

Nothing. 

Swallowing, I pulled it open. To my right was endless darkness and to the left was an infinite hallway. Something shifted in the darkness as I lingered. I quickly turned to the left. There were no windows or doors as I walked. 

I heard something over my shoulder. When I glanced behind, it looked like I had made no progress, the darkness still close to me. My pace quickened. I heard the sound again. A low gurgle. 

I could see a window at the end of the hallway, sunlight painted across the floor. A hand ran through my hair and I started to run. Whatever was behind me ran too. 

“Sweetheart.” 

The sunlight wasn’t getting any closer. 

But whatever was behind me was. 

I felt their breath along my neck. Cold needles pricked all along my spine. I couldn’t run any harder or any faster. Something caught my foot and sent me sprawling. Before I could scramble away, a hand latched around my leg, dragging me deeper into the darkness. I screamed, nails ripping at the concrete. 

“You’re safe, come on baby, wake up.” 

Then I was forced onto my back to look up at my attacker. It was him. His face was half gone, eyeball hanging from a destroyed socket, brain oozing and pulsating. I tried to fight him off, clawing uselessly at his mangled face. 

He glared down at me, hot blood splattering across my cheeks from his exposed skull. Then he held up the knife before plunging it deep into my chest. I wailed, fighting with everything I had. 

“Come on, you gotta wake up for me.” 

The knife tore from me with a disgusting sucking noise. Then he drove it in, again, and again. 

I sat bolt up straight, chest heaving as I panted. Cold sweat misted my skin and my clothes stuck to it. My eyes were cloudy from unshed tears. With shaking hands, I rubbed at them, and found something warm speckling my face. 

It was blood. 

“You back with us?” The voice was soft but I still jumped. Logan was also sitting up, his body tense. I could see four distinct scratches along his cheek in the weak moonlight. I let out a sob, clambering into his lap, arms latched tight around his shoulders. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He lifted the quilt over me and wrapped it tight. It didn’t stop my shivering. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Should have known better than trying to touch you while you were having a nightmare.” I kept readjusting my hold, trying to find the position with the most contact. I wanted to crawl inside him, be encased in warmth and comfort. “It’s okay,” he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands were under my shirt again, fingers digging into the tense muscles of my lower back. He let me shudder and cling to him for a few minutes, sobbing onto his shoulder, the skin quickly becoming slick with tears. “What do you need, princess?” 

“Just you, please,” I lifted my head from his shoulder, “just you.” Our mouths hovered close and he nearly went cross eyed to keep me in focus. Then he nodded. The kiss was sloppy and desperate but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him against me. He let me take charge, one hand braced on the back of my neck. For once, I wished he had worn a shirt just so I could grip it tight. I settled on digging my fingers into his hair. It had gotten long, trailing along the nape of his neck. The longer I kissed him, the more solidly in my body I felt. My head felt clearer as the last of the nightmare ebbed away. 

He was making these soft, tiny groans against my lips that made heat trickle through my veins. I needed more. My hands went to my shirt but Logan stopped me, his lips pulling back, forehead against mine. 

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled, collecting both of my wrists in one of his. “You aren’t thinking clearly.” 

“Says who?” I wiggled, trying to snake out from his grip. I knew it was impossible. But as I shifted, I felt something press against my stomach and Logan let out a faint groan when I pushed myself against it again. “You don’t get to make that decision.” 

“I can smell how scared you are.” 

“I’m not.” I sounded like a petulant child. I was scared. But I craved him and Wade. I wanted to let go, let them chase away all my worries, feel their skin against mine. 

“Relax, take a deep breath,” Logan hummed, ignoring my useless protest. The grip on my wrists had loosened and I took advantage, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. Anger was swirling up in me. 

“Stop telling me what I want. I thought you said you would give me anything I needed. Why is it so hard for you to think I might need you? Might need to feel…” I stumbled over the word I wanted to use, loved. Logan’s face relaxed, the worry leeching away, a soft affection replacing it. 

“Just don’t want you to rush into anything just because you’re scared, that your emotions are in high gear.” I huffed. 

“Then help me calm down,” I pleaded, kissing his scratchy cheek. “I know you and Wade will take good care of me.” He groaned, the sound low in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I whispered as I nipped the corner of his jaw. My nails lightly scraped along his chest as I waited for his response. 

“Okay,” Logan sighed, tilting his head back to allow me to bite and kiss at the newly exposed skin. “We can do that for you sweetheart.” I kept up my assault on his neck, marveling at the bruises disappearing seconds after I had placed them. “Are you done pretending to sleep now?” 

“I was just watching. We need to work on your self-confidence, peanut.” I shouldn’t have been surprised Wade was awake, and even less shocked that he’s been observing us. The bed behind me shifted and Logan spread his legs to accommodate Wade’s body. “If a hot piece like this is begging for sex, you shouldn’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.” Logan growled, his palms hot as they skated over my ass, before dipping into my panties, gripping the flesh. I rolled my hips over his and was rewarded by a small hitch in his breathing. 

“It’s not my confidence, I just need her with us to do this.“ His voice dipped, soft and sweet again,”lean back for me baby.” I do as he asked, back flush with Wade’s chest. Wade’s lips immediately descended on my throat and he cupped my breasts through my shirt. My eyelids grew heavy as he started to circle my nipples, the fabric a pleasant scrape. “Lift her up a bit,” Logan commanded. Wade curled one arm around my waist, easily raising me an inch or two off of Logan’s lap. 

Logan’s fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, his eyes never moving from my face, examining every expression. He moved between my legs, the pad of his middle finger brushing my clit. I wasn’t wet or turned on enough, yet, for that simple touch to do anything, but I still pushed my hips forward, craving more. Wade nuzzled his face into my neck, sucking at the skin. That made me whine. Logan moved in languid motions over my clit, not too firm, and just enough to reignite the warmth inside me. 

Wade removed his lips from my thoroughly spit covered neck and made a satisfied humming noise at the sight. “So beautiful.” He released my breasts and I opened my mouth to protest but he slipped under my shirt to resume his treatment before I could. 

“Go back to kissing her neck, she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” I nod, biting my lip as Wade tweaks my nipples. Logan’s middle finger traces around my entrance, collecting my slick, but going back to my clit, the new wetness making his finger glide easier. 

“He gets so bossy in bed,” Wade huffed. “Next time I’m in control.” Logan’s fingers suddenly left me and I gasped in shock. He reached up, his two middle fingers extended, pointed towards Wade. 

“Shut up,” Logan growled, “get these wet for her.” Wade was more than happy to oblige, lapping like a dog at the tips before swallowing them to the knuckles. With his mouth next to my ear, I could hear his exaggerated sucking and slurping. Logan groaned, hips bucking against mine briefly, before he pulled his fingers back. A long trail of spit stretched and snapped between the two. His hand dove under my underwear again, soaked finger prodding at my entrance. 

“Did you, after that night in the bar,” Wade mumbled against my throat, lips tracing my racing pulse. “Logan came from just sucking you off my fingers.” I could feel the man under me tense, like he was going to attack Wade. But he relaxed when he felt how wet I had gotten from hearing that. A finger slipped inside me and I groaned, head falling back on Wade’s shoulder. Wade’s fingers were long, able to poke and prod anywhere inside me with ease. But Logan’s were thick and there was a pleasant stretch around it. “Oh look at that pretty, pretty face,” Wade cooed, abandoning my neck to kiss at my flushed cheeks. “He’s so big isn’t he?” I moaned in response as Logan started to pump into me. “But that stretch feels so fucking good. Makes your toes curl, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes,” I whispered. Logan’s chest rumbled, gripping my hip as he increased his pace. Wade reached for the hem of my shirt, one borrowed from Logan, and went to pull it over my head. 

“No,” Logan rasped, thumb pressing against my clit, forcing a moan from me. “I like her in it.” Wade chuckled. 

“He’s such an animal, isn’t he?” Wade teased, but let the shirt go. “He loves marking his territory. It’s going to drive him crazy to smell his cum in you.” 

“Wade, shut the fuck up.” Logan’s other finger eased inside me, being as gentle as he could be. My eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. “Look at me, sweetheart. Wanna see your face, wanna see how good I make you feel.” Wade pinched my chin and used it to angle my head down. I couldn’t see Logan’s face well in the dim room but I could see little dark splotches on his cheeks. His nostrils were flared and his chest heaved. 

“God you two look so hot.” I could hear Wade sucking on something before his hands went back to toying with my nipples. My hips jerked, forcing Logan deeper into me, at the feeling of Wade’s wet fingers. He pressed himself closer and I could feel the defined ridge of his cock against my back. 

Logan’s grip on my hip became tighter as he guided me over his hand in long rolls. “There you go princess,” he mumbled. “Make yourself feel good for me. Take what you need.” Fuck. Those words made desire rush through me. I leaned forward, hands braced on Logan’s wide chest, and started to grind against his fingers. I could feel his heart racing under my palms. He curled his fingers just right that made pleasure shoot down my spine. Wade’s hands slipped from me in this new angle. 

“Feel so good,” I sighed, nails pricking into his skin. Logan showed no reaction of pain, his whole focus on me. He pressed against my clit, the pressure just firm enough that my toes curled. “Logan,” I mumbled and reached for his free hand. He gave it willingly and I immediately shoved it up my shirt so he could take over where Wade had stopped. He played with my nipple like he did my clit, long, firm strokes across the sensitive nerves. “Oh god,” I gasped, pleasure pooling deep in my stomach. My hips became more desperate as I chased after the orgasm just out of reach. 

“Aw, Lo,” Wade cooed, faux sympathy dripping from his words. “You’re so hard, do you want some help?” Logan’s hips jerked under me, his fingers spearing deeper, hand briefly clenching around my breasts. I let out a strangled moan at the stretch and rocked my hips quicker. 

“Leave it alone,” Logan hissed, eyes finally darting from my face to glare at Wade over my shoulder. “Don’t need anything but her. I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I baby?” I nodded furiously. I could feel that tension growing in my stomach, that heady rush of heat just within arms reach. “You’re close.” It wasn’t a question and I was too focused on my oncoming orgasm to answer. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart, probably taste like heaven.” 

”Oh she does,” Wade agrees, kissing the nape of my neck. Everything, their words, the rough scrape of Logan’s hands on my most tender areas, the knowledge that Wade is watching, kicked me over the edge. My body went rigid for a moment, a moan caught in my chest, before I ground against Logan with renewed desperation. 

“Fuck, Logan,” I panted. My nails were dug deep into his skin, the warmth of his blood soaking into my fingertips. 

“There you go princess, I got you.” His fingers were pumping into me, fucking me hard through my orgasm. It was exactly what I needed. 

“Logan!” My blurry eyes opened to see him gazing up at me. I was too far into the waves of my orgasms to find his expression, but I smiled down at him all the same. He made a little noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. 

Soon the pleasure faded and my hips slowed. My breath was uneven. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room. Then Logan’s hand snaked up from my breast to cup the side of my neck. The neckline of the shirt stretched to accommodate his thick forearm. “Alright?” I hummed, little aftershocks rippling through me, my hips jerking over him. Once I stilled fully, his fingers left from me. I whimpered at the loss. He slipped his sticky fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling closed at the taste. 

“Come on baby muffin,” Wade breathed against my neck, licking a drip of sweat off the skin. “Let’s put on a show for him, yeah?” 

“Okay,” I sighed, “just one second.” I leaned closer to Logan, tongue flashing out to lick at the fingers still in his mouth. “Gimme a kiss,” I weakly demanded. He obeyed, removing the digits and dragging my face closer by my chin. His tongue delved into my mouth, the tang of me thick on it. I drew back with a faint smile before I nipped his bottom lip. 

“Let’s go, I’m not known for my patience,” Wade playfully growled, giving my ass a light spank. I giggled, rolling off Logan’s torso, the bed squeaking a little under me. Wade’s hands slid between my legs and spread my thighs apart. He hooked his fingers through my panties and inched them down my legs. I blushed as I felt the fabric cling to my wet pussy before it slipped away. “There you go, you nasty old man.” Wade tossed the bundle of wet fabric at Logan’s face again. The older man made an annoyed sound, throwing the sticky panties near my laundry hamper. 

“I don’t need it.” 

“You didn’t say that with the last pair,” Wade teased, my borrowed shirt climbing up my stomach. “You know,” he said, voice low like he was letting me in on a huge secret, “that last pair I grabbed was ruined. You wanna know how?” 

“Wade,” there was a hint of embarrassment in Logan’s voice. But I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to let Wade slip the shirt off me, biting back a small giggle when he tickled across my ribs. 

“He made me come in them and then let me fuck him while they were shoved in his mouth.” Heat burned down my neck. “I can’t even see you, but I know you’re all turned on and pink.” Wade backed off the bed, shimming his pants down his narrow hips. I propped myself up on my elbows and squinted in the darkness, trying to take his naked body in. The shadows played across the ridges of his stomach, the V of his waist, and unfortunately lingered between his legs, completely obscuring what I actually wanted to see. “You look cute when you pout like that.” Wade clambered back over me, settling between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head. His cock was heavy and warm as it rested on my stomach. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” 

“I can take a guess,” I mumbled, arching my neck to brush my lips against his. A bead of warm liquid dribbled onto my stomach. “Why don’t you fix that?” He kissed me back, light pecks and lashes of his tongue on my lips. 

“As you command, my love.” My heart stuttered at the casual way he said the word. Wade leaned back on his knees, his fist pumping over his length. Just as he was lining himself up, my stomach tight in anticipation, Logan’s hand wrapped around Wade’s cock, stilling him. “You can wait your turn, peanut.” 

“Shut up you idiot.” Logan’s forearm flexed and Wade’s hips jerked with a strangled noise of pain. “Sweetheart, do you have condoms?” 

“No, but you guys can’t give me anything can you?” Logan shifted closer, his face becoming clearer in the dim light, there was a pinch of concern on it. 

“No, but we can get you pregnant all the same.” Logan’s nose twitched, clearly smelling that I got even wetter at the idea. “Fuck,” his voice was gruff, forehead falling to my bare shoulder. 

“Stop smelling me,” I hissed. “Anyways, I’m on birth control. Now let Wade fuck me.” Logan sighed and let Wade go. He took his cock in his hand, sliding it through my folds, rubbing my slick into his skin. 

“Ooh,” Wade teased, tapping my clit with each roll of his hips. “Remind me to get on your bad side. I like how you sound angry. Much better than big boy over there.” Wade notched himself at my entrance, pausing for a beat, then pushed into me. I moaned, back arching. He was so warm and twitching already. “Shit baby,” he mumbled, his focus solely on where he disappeared into me. He took his time, giving me an inch, before withdrawing, then working another in. 

It was absolutely maddening. 

“Wade,” I whined, the slow drag of his cock through my sensitive walls making my head spin. It seemed like he was never ending. I wanted him deeper and I tried to force it, but his grip was iron tight on my hips, completely freezing me. 

“Let me savor this, yeah? I only get this for the first time once.” His hips pressed flush to mine, all of him buried deep. He lifted my waist, the change in angle made my stomach clench, as he worked even deeper. 

“Fuck,” the word trembled as my eyes rolled back. The bed next to me creaked, then Logan’s lips were on my neck. He only left a few bites before he was trailing down my chest, tongue tracing along the hollow of my throat, the line of my collar bones. His beard scraped against my flushed skin as he moved. 

“I see what you mean,” Wade sighs, “she flutters so much when you kiss her neck.” He pulled out, just the tip lingering, before he surged forward. It wasn’t rough, but it made my breathing hiccup, ankles locking around him, heels digging into his ass. Logan’s tongue traced down my breast before circling a firm nipple. My hands locked into his hair, keeping him close. Wade continued his slow, torturous, push and pull. He was long enough that at this angle, he was able to rub against my sweet spot on each stroke. 

“Faster,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around him. This pace was only making me feel feverish, more desperate. I needed an edge, that bite of roughness, especially now. The nightmare was long forgotten but I could feel the lingering emotions in the back of my mind.

“Being so gentle,” Logan hummed against me, the hot air dancing over my wet nipple. I bit my lip at the feeling. “I would have thought you’d be fucking her like a rabbit.” When Wade didn’t respond, Logan titled his head to face him. “You really going to come already?”  

“You’re going to be the exact same way,” Wade huffed, shoving Logan’s face against my breast a little too aggressively. “You’re probably going to cry when you have her wrapped around your ancient dick.” Logan growled, sitting up straight, uncaring that I ripped several of his hairs out. He gripped Wade’s face, silver claws breaking his skin and glinting in the dim light. 

“Fuck her like she wants, or I’m going to.” Wade smirked. His face tilted, the edges catching on Logan’s claws, blood trickling down his bumpy skin. Shock mingled with the pleasure simmering in me. Wade had stalled in his movements so I was forced to wiggle my hips the best I could, giving myself a little friction. 

“Look at her Lo,” Wade nodded down at me, like there was anyone else her could be. “She likes it when you're rough with me. I knew you were lying about not wanting knives to be involved.” Wade seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I reached up, Logan’s claws glancing across the back of skin, and bent Wade’s body in half, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss, arms latching tight around his neck. I bit at his lip hard enough to break the skin, hot liquid dripping into my mouth. Wade grunted in shock, his hips jerking roughly into me.

“You said you fucked harder with them involved,” I murmured between kisses. “Prove it.” Wade’s arms curled around my waist, clutching me close, plunging deep on a harsh thrust. I groaned, eyes fluttering, the angle making my thighs tremble. 

“Knew you had a mean streak in you.” His hips snapped into me finally giving me that needed roughness. I continued my sloppy kissing, nipping and sucking on his rapidly healing lips. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of my hips as he gripped tighter. Another pair of calloused hands traced up my thigh, feather light as they moved up my skin. Wade trailed his lips along my cheek and jaw. Fingers pinched my chin and dragged my face to Logan’s. He littered my face with light pecks as Wade went to my neck. 

“Is he finally making you feel good? Took him long enough, huh?” 

“Do you,” my voice broke as Logan slipped his hand between Wade and I’s bodies, rolling his fingers over my clit. “Do you have to antagonize each other all the time?” 

“Yes,” they said in unison. Logan’s mouth went to my neck again, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, nearly hard enough to break skin. My hand went back to his slightly sweat-dampened hair while the other laid across Wade’s flexing shoulders. With both of their mouth’s occupied, the only thing filling the room was the wet sound of Wade pounding into me and my ragged gasps.That familiar swirl of heat was growing in me. My head felt light, overwhelmed by all the sensations. 

Wade’s forehead pressed between my breasts, his own uneven breath coasting across my sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he mumbled. His pace was losing its consistency but none of its harshness. Logan’s fingers on my clit picked up in speed, the scrape of his callouses extra intense on my tender skin. I whined, my body shuddering as pleasure shot through me. Logan’s mouth slanted against mine and swallowed down all my noises. It wasn’t quite a kiss, I was quickly growing out of breath to linger too long, but Logan didn’t mind. 

Wade was adjusting my position in tiny ways, a slight tilt to the right, a little lift, a small drop. I figured it was just a coincidence until he hit that perfect spot inside me that would have made my eyes cross if they weren’t already closed. I let out a strangled wail of Wade’s name, nails ripping into his shoulder. “There we go,” he panted. 

It only took four more strokes. 

“Wade, I- I’m gonna,” I barely got the words out before the hot coil inside me snapped. Just like Logan’s fingers before, Wade fucked me through my orgasm, groaning at the tight squeeze. Logan slowed over my clit, knowing that overstimulation was creeping up. 

“In or out?” Wade’s voice was clipped, hips finally losing all sense of rhythm, just becoming uneven jerks. It was hard for him to even move with the vice grip my legs had around him. 

“In, ah Wade, in please!” He made a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and whine, as he pushed in as far as he could with a shudder. Warmth spread through me as he came with a long groan. “Fuck,” I mumbled, my hips still trembling from the aftershocks. 

Our bodies slowed, all the shakiness easing out of us. Wade kept me close even when my legs fell from his hips. He laid his cheek against my sternum, body growing heavier over me as he relaxed. I gave his head a weak kiss just as another pair of lips found my cheek. “You okay baby?” I smiled at Logan, feeling just a little giddy. 

“Yeah.” Logan smirked back and I blinked sleepily at him. Wade was softening inside me and drips of cum traced down my skin to the bed. I winced at the stickiness. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” Logan said, already moving to get off the bed, legs on the floor. My arm stretched to grab his fingers. 

“It’s your turn.” I couldn’t see his face too well, but I saw his head tilt in question. I chuckled. “Wade, get off me now.” He groaned, sucking a hickey right on my chest before rolling next to me. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling across the mattress to be face to face with Logan. I heard his breath stutter. “Cleaning up can wait can’t it?” My hand slid between his legs, gripping his cock through his boxers. “How do you want me?” I felt him throb in my grip. 

“Jesus,” he huffed. I littered his neck in licking kisses while I awaited his response. “Go sit on Wade’s face.” Now it was my turn to look at him confused. He smirked, a flash of a pointed tooth catching in the street light outside. “Don’t you trust me princess?” Reluctantly, I released him, turning on my knees to inch across to Wade. I made sure to shimmy my ass for Logan as I moved. 

“Oh dessert.” I had barely swung my leg over Wade’s face before he pulled me down by my hips. His tongue parted my folds, flicking aggressively at my tender clit before sliding back and licking his cum from me. I shuddered, hands gripping his head. The bed shifted and I felt Logan’s palm slide up my spine before cupping my neck gently and guiding my torso to be flat to the bed. I braced myself on my elbows, adjusting my hips, the new angle only allowing Wade to continue his torture on my clit. Calloused hands spread me farther open. Logan lapped away all the cum that had leaked down my thighs. I whimpered, fingers knotting the bed sheets. But the sound grew in volume and pitch as Logan joined Wade, tongues tangling briefly, before he speared into my leaking pussy. Wade laughed as I shook above him. His hot breath fanned across my wet skin and I had to bite my lip to stop from wailing. 

“How do we taste?” I had no idea who Wade was even speaking as he was practically smothered under me. Logan groaned, nuzzling his face deeper into me, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on my ass. His tongue curled, licking every inch of my clenching channel. The scratch of his beard was like little pinpricks of pain but it only made me push my hips against him harder. The sounds I was making were downright pathetic. Just when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he reared back, breath uneven. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to where Wade was pinned. When he looked almost content to just watch, I shimmed my hips, grinding harder on Wade’s face. The man under me eagerly sucked my clit into his mouth and I sobbed at the feeling. 

“Shit,” he huffed, “you two are gonna kill me.” There was more adjusting and then I felt the blunt head of Logan’s cock at my entrance. Wade released my clit, opting to just rub his nose against it. It was enough friction to keep me satisfied, but not enough to make me come too quickly. “Beg for it.” 

“Aw you’re being so mean!” 

But I was all too eager. “Please fuck me Logan, please! Been thinking about it so long! I promise I’ll make you feel so goo-ah!” With one long stroke, Logan was buried to the hilt. Despite how wet I was and the extra slick of Wade’s cum, there was still the barest hint of pressure as he stretched me. “Oh god,” I whimpered. Logan’s rough hands grasped my hips, giving an experimental roll. “Logan.” He shushed me, drawing his cock nearly out before plunging back into me. The force punched a moan out of me. “Like that,” I pleaded. 

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he hummed. His pace was languid, but rough. He used my waist as leverage to drag me closer for each thrust. With each pull, I was forced to grind myself against Wade’s face, who stuck his tongue out so I couldn’t escape the pleasure. I was so wound up, so close to the edge after two orgasams, that I could only take a handful of his harsh strokes before I was coming again. I buried my face in the sheets, shuddering whines falling from my lips. “Shit,” Logan groaned. Wade made a muffled noise as my juices dripped into his mouth. His own hands joined Logan’s, clutching me close. I could feel Logan’s thighs trembling where they were pressed against mine. 

I hadn’t fully finished my orgasm before Logan was moving in me again. He was far less restrained now, fucking into me with quicker thrusts. My toes curled. “Logan,” I sobbed. Despite the overstimulation growing in me, I arched my back, forcing Logan deeper.

“Feel so good, I can’t handle it,” Logan grunted. He bent over me, messily kissing at my spine and shoulder blades. “Too much?” His voice was quiet as it tickled along my neck. 

“No!” I cried, bouncing against him as best I could with both of them holding me. Wade chuckled and the vibrations made me nearly rip the sheets in my grip. “More!” Logan huffed a laugh, kissing the back of my neck, before his hand replaced it, pinning me to the bed. The pressure was enough that I knew not to move, but light enough that I could slip out from it if I needed to. 

Logan fucked into me like a man possessed, hips rutting into me with reckless abandoned. I had no doubt there would be faint bruises on my ass from him. But that pinch of pain only drove me higher. I felt drunk on all the sensations. Logan rubbing against my tender walls. Wade’s tongue as it rolled between my folds, tracing my entrance. The ache in my hips from being spread so long. My moans of their names grew more slurred before it just became whimpers. Tears stung my eyes and I let them fall freely. 

“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, his hand briefly flexing around the back of my neck. He was panting, if only a little, and I took it as a compliment. His hips moved quicker, the slap of his skin against mine echoing around the room. Wade’s tongue stopped wandering and honed back onto my clit, making tight circles around it. 

“Wade!” I cried out, body jolting. Logan’s hand suddenly went to my shoulder, jerking me up straight, my back flush to his chest. He banded an arm across my chest to pin me close while he drove into me. His lips found his previous bite mark and sunk his teeth into it. The feeling of my skin breaking was a dull burn, soothed by Wade between my legs. Heat burst through me, an orgasm that nearly knocked the wind from me. My hand went to Logan’s hair, fingers twisted deep into the strands, and held him close, weak sobs of euphoria escaping me. His other arm curled around my hips before he shoved himself as deep as he could with a little snarl into the skin clutched between his teeth. I could feel every twitch as he came, filling me to the brim. I shook in his embrace. If not for his iron grip, I would have fallen flat on my face on the bed. 

The first thing to move was Logan’s teeth from my neck. “Fuck.” His worry was clear as he licked the dripping blood away. “I, I-shit, I didn’t mean to, I just got so caught up in you.” My weak hand slid from his hair, caressing his jaw. 

“S’okay,” I slurred. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to me. ”Felt good.” 

“You really can’t help but bite any piece of meat you see huh?” Wade’s tongue swept between my folds again, lapping up Logan’s cum as it leaked from me. Logan growled. I felt Wade’s fingers brush against me, curling around Logan’s softening cock before tugging it out. I whined as he obnoxiously slurped the mixture of cum from me. 

“Stop it,” Logan growled. “Make yourself useful and grab a towel.” With lots of adjusting, Wade was able to wiggle out from under us. But he didn’t go to the bathroom, instead he cupped the back of Logan’s head, meeting him in a kiss. Logan groaned. 

“Taste good right?” Wade leaned back, grinning, before licking Logan’s face from chin to nose. 

“How about you go grab a towel before I put my claws through your chest, yeah?” If anything, Wade’s smile grew wider, more wild. 

“Okay, okay. How about I get a towel to clean our precious girl up and then we can have some fun while she recovers?” Logan sighs. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. Wade shimmied in excitement, giving me a wet peck on the cheek, before disappearing out of the bedroom. My heavy head fell back on Logan’s shoulder. “Do you feel better now?” I gave a weak laugh and nuzzled my face against his cheek. 

“I can get used to this.” Logan hummed. 

“Me too sweetheart, me too.”

[ghostykapi]

three against me (the trio's love)

misamo & fem!reader // college au

thank you for @cry4mina for the misamo pictures and for being delulu with me about misamo <3 MISAMOOO

when you said you wanted your college life to be eventful

you didn't expect the universe throwing you three girlfriends, each with their own side of how they got you locked with them

it starts during the first semester of your 3rd year, when you were in a small cafe, getting to a headstart in your pile of homework

it's perfect, a iced coffee by your side, three readings beside you, your laptop on the coffee table in front of you and phone silenced, muting whatever the onslaught of messages nayeon is sending that you can't even be bothered to check

you needed this, you couldn't handled anymore 'dubchaeng babysitting!' when the duo would just make your head hurt with the amount of crazy ideas they had. the change of pace for the day is much welcome, especially knowing that jeongyeon took over with the lure of seeing a band a cafe next university over

it's nice, you can feel like you are in control for even just for a bit

then the cafe's noise dies down when the door chimes

it's too silent

fuck.

you brace yourself at the trio, who’s presence can make the entire student populous go on their knees. the mere whisper of their little group brings the entire college either trembling

misamo.

you can feel her gaze land on you, despite the only indication that it is one of them without looking is the whispers within the cafe. even the baristas know them

hirai momo. softball player, the star athlete that brings medals and more recognition to your university. average grades, stellar performance when she steps on the field and can land a nasty punch

with each step you hear her take, the more you have to remind yourself not to look. you can hear her giggles and the way your heartbeat is now in your ears

minatozaki sana. influencer and model, the unspoken leader of their group. through her bubbly and charming personality, she uses her wit to become the face of the university. part of the top 10% of the whole university, the inspiration to study hard and diligently

you feel a hand on your shoulder, the firm grasp rendering you unable to move, yet it's how you know who it is. she hums in delight at your sharp intake of breath, knowing that you don't need anything else to tell her apart

myoui mina. rising entrepreneur of 3 different business ventures, the deadliest one from the trio. always calculating, always 10 steps ahead of her peers and competitors. sweet, kind, and demur, she brings class to whatever she does

that includes sitting beside you, her bag gently landing on the table, your proximity leaves the others questioning your relationship, but all you know is that you must have done something at your shared class with her yesterday for her too approach you

"i hope you don't mind" she starts, eyes confident and you want to scream and cry because she's wearing a suit. typically worn when she's fresh from visiting one of her businesses. "i heard you were well versed in code"

"programming is my major yes" you keep your voice leveled, after all, being a woman in such a male dominated course has made you what your flock of admirers say, freezingly cold.

"i have a proposition for you" mina starts, keeping a dangerous game of who can keep the eye contact going "you help me with homeworks and projects while i give you money per assessment made"

while mina has a fair share of students that matched her energy, something in your gaze makes her crack a bit

"what makes you think i'll say yes?"

"you can't say no to me"

"yes i can. here watch i'll say it"

and mina can't deny it when she feels her heart start to race when you get closer to her. faces barely a few inches apart

"i don't do things for money. so no"

and you pull back, ready to put back to attention to your homework when mina speaks up

"every time you have to help me i'll pay you in food"

oh goodness free food

"ok i'm in" you hum, hands typing away on your laptop "we start in two days, send me an address and i'll met you there myoui. now shoo, i have to catch up to my work"

she stares at you with a blank gaze, but inside she's dumbfounded at your boldness

nevertheless, she stands up to leave you be, but before she's out of earshot, she says something you don't quite catch

"what?" you ask

"you should call me mina. myoui is too professional even for my taste dear"

three days later, it's momo who bugs you after your morning class

she slips up right beside you, the lack of dress code in the university gives momo a chance to wear a body hugging pink dress, something that makes everyone go crazy. what you don't like is how every guy is looking at her in ways you want to pluck their eyes out

filthy bastards don't deserve to gaze at her at all

"momo" your ears are red because everyone can clearly see you both in the halls, her arm around your waist as you slowly walk to the next building for your next class "what are you doing?"

"accompanying you to class" momo won't admit it, but ever since mina said you were, in her words, 'pretty and sufficient', she had to see you

"why?" you ask, glaring at every man who's looking at her too creepily, making them scurry away

"just because, plus our classrooms are right beside each other" she relaxes more with each less man in the hall, you notice it

"fine" you huff, and before she can even say anything else, you remove your jacket, giving it to her "wear this for today, i don't want any man to look at you. you're too gorgeous for them"

the rest of the walk is silent on the way to both of your classrooms. only thing you can hear is the squeak of every sneaker from each man running way and the whispers in between students

it's the most peaceful walk momo has had since becoming star athlete

so when you wave at her from the door before disappearing to go to the classroom beside her's, she feels like she can breath without panicking

she hates taking anything math related, but she might bare it more when she knows your beside her classroom

she's hooked

later that afternoon, while you lounge around the student council office sipping a red bull, someone barges in, scaring your team who's having a heated debate on who should the rest of the papers

"fucking jesus who the fuck-" ryujin is silenced from who she sees at the door

minatozaki sana, the ever persistent and one of the most notable member under the team of the president.

"someone sent you flowers?"

not a question you were expecting, even your team is gawking at her

dressed to perfection, you can't catch her in a regular outfit at any point, which is kind of ridiculous. sana doesn't care, always styled like she's going to a fashion week in europe. today she's wearing that white dress that she just wore in her feature in some magazine

what is it with the trio and wearing designer clothing every time they are at university grounds? specifically when they are within your eyesight

"pardon?" you know the amount of admires that still try despite cold rejection, even hailing from different courses. hell you think someone from the university over sent you chocolates once, you gave it to your team though

"did you accept some stupid boy's flowers?" sana repeats, anger in her eyes, an emotion she barely shows, and possessiveness in her body language, something you see glimpses of when someone gets close to mina and momo that she doesn't approve of

"minatozaki you know i don't do that" you say calmly, your team in awe at how you keep a calm attitude "if the suitor doesn't have the guts to face me, then they do not deserve my limited time"

"then you'll entertain if i do right?"

you can hear felix and lily choke over their pizza behind you

"you are not serious" you look at her like she's crazy (she loves being called that, you learn from mina later on)

she gets closer to you, faces barely an inch apart, any slip up from her leaning way to closer over your table and she can just kiss you

"try me, i'll see you at tomorrow's meeting miss vice-president"

when she leaves the office, it takes you and your team a total of 5 minutes to recover

"jesus what the fuck was that"

"ryujin shut up, go back to bickering with lia"

no one has ever said no to the trio

maybe a few people had

they're just not as pretty, charming and confident as you

maybe that's why mina keeps sitting beside you during your shared programming class even oustide 'tutor' hours, why momo's insistent at being beside you in between periods to carry your items on days your classes line up, and why sana shows up in every weekly meeting with an expensive gift or a trinket, challenging each suitor head on.

women like them are gonna be the death of you

"you have some crazy women that like you" jihyo jests beside you, giggling at how sana is glaring daggers at how close you both are. you both are now taking a break along with the rest of the internal team to finalize some papers

"yeah well" you don't like to admit it, but ever since their persistence to always either be near you, you have been starting to crack bit by bit "can't really escape them y'know"

"i think you would look cute with them" jihyo hums, swinging her pen between her fingers, making someone across the table keep her stare at the president "misamo and their girlfriend who sucks ass at karaoke"

"ok that was one time" you huff, jihyo's snickering makes sana look up from her phone, jaw tensing up at how close jihyo is "clearly i let you win because you liked it when tzuyu said she's treat you out if you win right?"

that shuts her up. the said tall woman is at the other side of the room, watching the president's face get red, wondering what you just said to make her like this

"get back to work" jihyo then shoos you away, your laughter making jihyo flip you off before returning to work for herself

before you cam even return to work, your eyes meet sana's, her expression unreadable. you wonder what she's thinking of

you look away, a light blush on your cheeks from her intense stare, busying yourself once more with the papers

to sana, witnessing your smile and laughter rewires her brain, heart pleading with her to speed up whatever this stage the three of them are in. each day that passes drives the three of them crazy

mina is messing up in her calculations, momo is missing her shots and sana is losing her composure on the daily

she needs you. they need you.

when sana heads home that night she keeps thinking about you. even when she lets her girlfriends debate what their late night dinner should be (mina wants tacos, momo is craving for some pasta). she blurts out in the middle of it

"do you think y/n would say yes if we offered her sushi as a late night dinner?"

the two stop at their bickering to look at sana, who's eyes are begging for the next move. she's getting itchy and desperate to make it

"satang" mina reaches out to her, letting sana wrap her arms around her waist as momo hugs them both "did something happen?"

"it's just" sana doesn't even try to hide it at this point, knowing that the three of them are nearing their breaking point "i saw her laugh today and it really made me think that 'i want to make her laugh with us' and i-i don't know but it has been driving me mad"

mina hums in understanding and momo speaks up, ready to take that push

"then let's go"

staying late even after meetings is normal for you to catch up with the papers, but for the past few days, you have been staying late in the office to busy your thoughts

mina hasn't been looking at you in the eye or been acknowledging you

momo hasn't been accompanying you to class

sana hasn't shown up to a single meeting this past two weeks

trying to silence your head, you decided to throw yourself into your extra curriculars every night. this night, you are working alone, the only sounds that you can hear are your aggressive typing on your poor keyboard, the music coming from your small speaker and the voices in your head making your heart ache

and now a knock and the door swinging open

"if you have any concerns please drop them by our social media accounts, email, or even the drop box by the-"

you stop your next words when you look up

mina.

you want to curse at the woman, for deliberately avoiding you. it was worse with her, because at least with the two you didn't have the urge to scream because they simply did not show up.

momo.

even clad in that handsome suit, she's still wearing that jacket you handed over to her. devastatingly handsome and gorgeous, you wonder why did she have to leave you wondering in the noisy university halls

sana.

meetings are still the same, but jihyo keeps on asking why your eyes have been straying, always going back to the door. waiting for that laugh to annoy you, waiting for a snarky remark to any stupid men flirting with you, waiting for anything from her

you really want to throw a chair at them for just showing up now and pissing you off

you don't though, because you missed them

each in their own suit, each with their own gift, each one with a nervous smile that no one will ever see, each one wearing their hearts up their sleeves, and each with the same question you didn't know you wanted to hear until now

"we like you. would you like to go out with us? dinner tomorrow night, our treat"

you can't say no

"you guys are horrible at courting. pick me up at 7"

bonus:

in every first date you've been on, you never come over to your dates home. that changes and ends with them

"hirai" you're trying to keep your breath stable as her hands are playing your hair. eyes hazy, but clearly on you, her self control out the door, just like yours

"myoui" she's behind you, her hands on your waist, murmuring what she's been thinking about for the past days. it's all you, and it makes you melt

"minatozaki" you let her kiss you, silencing your worries and doubts, silencing anything that makes you question them. the heart finally getting what it wants

"you my love, deserve to be ours"

[crystallinestars]

A month had passed since the Luofu incident, and Jiaoqiu’s injuries had healed. It had been a long time since you last got to be intimate, and now that the foxian is in better shape, he’s eager to get his hands on you.  This is basically just smut with an attempt at hurt/comfort. I’m not good at writing scenarios, so this may be subpar at best, but I tried. Image source. Word count: 4584

WARNING:

MAJOR spoilers for the 2.5 story quest

Content aimed at an 18+ audience

Possibly OOC Jiaoqiu

Lots of vanilla smut and affection

Jiaoqiu x Fem!Reader (reader has a vagina)

Jiaoqiu sat on the edge of the couch while you carefully wrapped a fresh roll of gauze around his chest, covering up the ugly, jagged scars running across his chest. According to Jiaoqiu, the wounds had healed and required no further medical attention, but you couldn’t feel at ease until you did everything you could to ensure he healed properly. The shock of how close he had come to death still gripped your heart with ice-cold fingers, as did the grief of how much he had changed as a result.

A month ago, you had looked forward to welcoming Jiaoqiu home from his trip to the Luofu ship. You knew he was handling an important mission to transport Hoolay—the terrifying borisin leader who was the enemy of all foxians —to the Yaoqing ship, and that complications might arise when dealing with such a dangerous monster. However, never did you imagine Jiaoqiu will return to you blind and injured. He said he ingested Tumbledust—a lethal poison—to trick Hoolay into consuming it along with his blood. You mourned his loss of sight, but Jiaoqiu only smiled and assured you that it was a small price to pay for Hoolay’s downfall and that he did not regret his actions.

“There, all done,” you said while tying a final knot to hold the gauze securely around Jiaoqiu’s torso.

“Thank you. This should be the last time this is needed,” Jiaoqiu said as he patted the couch in search of his shirt.

You fell quiet as you stood in front of him and watched him struggle to find the shirt which rested just a bit farther from where his hand was fumbling about. What Jiaoqiu could once do in seconds without much thought, now required more time and effort on his part. It pained you to see him this way.

Jiaoqiu’s ears twitched at the prolonged silence, and as if sensing your downtrodden mood, he abandoned his search for the shirt in favor of reaching his hands toward you. For a split second, he lightly traced his hands along your stomach until they reached your waist, and then he looped them around you and pulled. You fell forward with a small yelp and found yourself straddling his lap with your hands tightly grasping his shoulders.

“Jiaoqiu! What are you doing?” you asked with mild annoyance, a bit frazzled by this sudden gesture.

“Can’t a man hug his girlfriend? It’s been a while since I got to hold you like this,” the foxian innocently replied and tightened his hold on you as he hugged you close. His hands slipped under the hem of your shirt to rub small circles into the skin of your lower back, meanwhile his chin came to rest on your shoulder, his mouth beside your ear.

“I was just thinking about how much I missed your touch. You’ve been fussing over my condition ever since I returned, but I miss your intimate touches, dear,” he mused as he rubbed the tip of his nose along your neck. “Now that I’m fully recovered, I’m hungry for you, my love. Will you indulge me?”

Your breath hitched as Jiaoqiu’s hand slowly slid higher under your shirt, skimming along your ribs with his palms. You knew he wanted to have sex, and truth be told, you were craving it too. Ever since he came back injured, you abstained from sexual activity in favor of caring for your boyfriend. As a result, you were pent up and eager for some relief. Still, you worried about his physical condition.

Grasping the foxian’s wrist, you gently pulled it away from your body and held his hand in yours.

“I don’t know… it’s probably too soon,” you murmured, fixing your gaze upon his chest where several horrific scars lay hidden under the gauze.

Jiaoqiu sighed but didn’t push you. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything. But there is no need to hold back for my sake. My injuries have healed well, and I am perfectly healthy,” he admonished, his tone gentle yet firm.

You were still unconvinced. Even if his injuries were fine, there was still the issue of his blindness. Jiaoqiu could no longer do certain things with you such as cooking food for you or watching your favorite shows together. It stood to reason that sex with him would be different too, and you worried you would mess it up. What if you overwhelmed or made him uncomfortable by going too fast or rough? What if the moment felt awkward and ruined the allure of sexual intimacy for the two of you?

As if sensing your anxious thoughts, Jiaoqiu let out a soft hum and traced his hands up your arms and shoulders, following their path to your face. His palms tenderly cupped your cheeks, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your skin.

“I’m a doctor, dear. I know how much I can handle and how far to push myself,” he whispered and leaned in to kiss you. However, his lips missed the mark, and he kissed the corner of your mouth instead.

“Oops. I’m still not used to this yet,” he chuckled as he pulled away, laughing off the little mishap, but you could still feel the lingering warmth of his lips on your skin, slightly off from where he wanted them to land, and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you cradled his face and lightly trailed your thumbs along the corners of his eyes, getting him used to being touched there, before placing two kisses on the outer corners of his eyes.

Jiaoqiu’s tail flicked.

“Your eyes…” you started in a whisper as you pressed your forehead to his, feeling a little emotional. It still pained you to see how much Jiaoqiu lost from swallowing that poison.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jiaoqiu said, his voice even and gentle. Slowly, one hand came to rest upon your head in a comforting gesture and the words you’ve heard several times over were said to you again: “It’s a small price to pay for Hoolay’s demise. I have no grievances, dear. I am content.”

I am content.

Jiaoqiu often repeated those words to remind you that he was happy with how things turned out in the end. The result may not be perfect, but for Jiaoqiu, it’s the best outcome he could have hoped for. Hoolay was gone, Feixiao had hope for a cure, and countless innocent lives were saved. In the grand scheme of things, those were all very positive outcomes, so the loss of his sight was insignificant by comparison. He could live just fine without it.

“Besides, you pity me too much, love. I’m not a fragile kit. These eyes of mine may not be of much use anymore, but I am still me. And right now, what I am is a man craving for his girlfriend’s affection,” he mused and ran a hand up the length of your spine in a feather-light caress.

Your breath hitched and you arched your back when Jiaoqiu’s hand trailed up your spine in the exact way he knew you liked. His touch sent tingles of pleasure through your back, causing you to shiver in delight.

A pleased smile tugged on his lips when he heard your breath catch and felt your body shudder on his lap. The healer traced your spine again, eager to feel and hear you react to his touch.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? If you let me, I’ll make you feel even better,” he purred against your ear and gave it a gentle nibble.

Overcome with lust and an intense craving for your boyfriend’s touch, you succumbed to his seduction. Taking hold of his chin, you guided Jiaoqiu’s mouth to meet yours. The kiss started out tender and sweet, full of the love you harbored for one another, but as your hands explored each other, the kiss became imbued with lust. Teeth nipped at lips and tongues met in a heated dance until your breaths ran short and you were forced to part for air.

Jiaoqiu’s hands mapped out the curves and dips of your body, slowly tracing the contours as if studying learning them for the very first time. Now that he no longer had his eyesight, his sense of touch served to teach him the look of your body. Though he had seen your bare figure many times before, now he was taking his time to truly familiarize himself with it. His palms glided over your shoulders and arms, the swells of your breasts, and the dips in your back, memorizing how you felt and reacted to every touch.

As you broke the kiss, a string of saliva joining you to Jiaoqiu’s mouth pulled back with you in a lewd display of desire, until it finally broke. A soft whisper of his name fell from your lips, and the foxian’s ears rotated in response to the sound. Their movement caught your attention.

Reaching your right hand up, you placed it on his head before slowly making your way toward the base of his ear so as to let him know what you wanted to do. Catching on to your intentions, Jiaoqiu chuckled and lowered his head so you could pet his ear more easily.

Your thumb rubbed gentle circles into the fluffiest part of his ear where you knew Jiaoqiu liked being touched. Sure enough, a subtle purr rumbled in the back of his throat. Encouraged by his response, you placed your left hand on his other ear and mirrored the process, rubbing both of his ears simultaneously. The foxian let out a shaky breath and tightened his grip on your hips, feeling your touch stronger than usual since the loss of his sight heightened his other senses.

You shifted to sit more comfortably on Jiaoqiu’s lap while petting his ears and felt a distinct hardness poke at you between your thighs. Even without looking down, you knew Jiaoqiu was pitching a tent. He wasn’t the only one feeling horny, however, and while still playing with his ears, you pressed your hips firmly against the bulge. A low, guttural groan tore from Jiaoqiu’s throat, and he leaned forward to bury his face in the crook of your neck, giving the skin a playful nip. You ground your hips again in response and reveled in the sharp hiss that motion elicited from the healer.

Growing a bit impatient from the teasing, Jiaoqiu tugged at your shirt in a silent message for you to take it off. You complied and shed your clothing, tossing it to the side as you exposed your body to him, save for a pair of panties. Once you were back on his lap, Jiaoqiu’s hands eagerly explored your bare skin, unhindered by pesky clothing.

Your hands traveled across his broad shoulders and down to his chest still covered by the gauze. The feeling of his warm skin transitioning into the coarse material sent a pang through your heart, and you leaned down to kiss the skin above the gauze. In response, Jiaoqiu breathed a soft sigh in and traced his hands up to your breasts before cupping them in his palms and flicking your nipples with his thumbs. Biting back a moan, you ground your hips against his once more and continued to dry hump against his groin at a slow and steady pace.

With each slow yet firm swivel of your hips, your clothed pussy rubbed against his erection, sending sparks of pleasure through your body each time your clit grazed against his hardness.

The tip of Jiaoqiu’s tail thumped against the couch with impatience.

“You’re being quite the tease,” Jiaoqiu rasped, smile strained as he tried to control his desire to buck against your pussy. The amount of friction you provided felt good, but it was not enough.

“Am I? And here I was just trying to make you feel good,” you teased, but relented, wanting to be nice to Jiaoqiu. Reaching a hand between your bodies, you undid his pants and fished out his erection. His cock was stiff and hot, the mushroom tip leaking beads of precum. Jiaoqiu groaned and swished his tail when you gave his dick an experimental pump.

“Be gentle,” he reminded, already feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of your hand grasping his aching length. You hummed in acknowledgment and lubricated your palm with his precum and your saliva, before wrapping it around his cock. As your hand pumped the hard flesh at a slow and gentle pace, Jiaoqiu’s body tensed, and you heard his breath hitch.

“Does this feel good?” you asked, hoping this wasn’t too overwhelming for your boyfriend.

“Yes. Just keep going,” he groaned and leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist in an almost desperate grip.

With his encouragement, you continued to pump his cock, going faster and gripping tighter when he said you could. Occasionally, you would switch to rubbing his tip with your palm or circling your thumb over the slit in the cockhead, smiling when you felt Jiaoqiu shiver in response to the stimulation.

Soft gasps and strained groans spilled from his lips, and his ears and tail twitched each time you stimulated a particularly sensitive spot on his cock. To enhance his pleasure, you used your free hand to rub circles on the skin around the base of his tail and trailed kisses along his neck, sucking marks into the areas you knew he liked. Pretty soon, Jiaoqiu was panting and rocking his hips into your hand, chasing after his release.

“Hah… Ah! Don’t stop—I’m close,” he moaned, voice coming out strained as he tried to hold back his sounds of pleasure.

Wanting to push your beloved over the edge, you kissed him hard and deep while jerking his cock at a steady pace and massaging the base of his tail. Jiaoqiu moaned into your mouth, and after a few seconds, you felt his cock twitch as ropes of cum covered your hand. Breaking the kiss, you pulled back and gave his dick a few more slow pumps, milking as much pleasure from his orgasm as you could, before finally letting go and wiping your hand on your thigh.

Jiaoqiu looked like a disheveled mess, ears askew and cheeks flushed as he sat there, gasping for breath.

“That felt way better than I remember,” he rasped with a weak smile.

Chuckling, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and pulled him in for a hug, letting Jiaoqiu recover from his orgasm.

“I’m glad it did. I had almost forgotten how good you look, all flushed like this,” you teased, earning a light pinch to your nipple from Jiaoqiu.

“I still haven’t forgotten how you look when you fall apart under my touch,” he said, turning the tables as he slid a hand between your legs. His fingers carefully traced over your crotch, feeling the outlines of your labia before cupping your clothed pussy.

“If there’s one thing I miss seeing, it’s that lovely face of yours when you orgasm,” he teased and laughed when you playfully slapped at his arm in retaliation.

Whatever barbed comments you wanted to send his way quickly died on your tongue as a surprised moan tore from your throat when Jiaoqiu found your clit and pressed his thumb against it. A molten knot of pleasure tightened in your abdomen when his thumb circled your clit over your drenched panties, eliciting another moan from you.

“What a lovely sound. I want to hear it again,” he purred. “Now it’s my turn to make you feel good. Let's get you nice and wet for me, shall we?”

 Jiaoqiu pushed aside your panties and slipped a single digit inside your soaking pussy, making you groan as your walls sucked it deeper inside.

“You’re so tight and wet,” he said in a husky whisper, slowly moving his finger in and out of your cunt, creating a lewd, wet noise with each pump. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

Jiaoqiu adjusted the angle of his hand and slid a second finger into you. His thumb teased your clit in languid circles while his fingers slowly scissored you open, prepping you for his cock. You moaned and bucked your hips into his hand, wanting more stimulation.

Jiaoqiu chuckled but doubled down his efforts to please you. His thumb pressed harder against your nub, and he curled his fingers inside you, searching for that one spot on the upper wall of your vagina that made you see stars. When he found it, he pressed on it over and over again with each thrust of his fingers, smirking at how you keened and clutched his shoulders in response.

“Feels good, does it?” he mused, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yeah, but you talk too much,” you huffed and kissed Jiaoqiu to shut him up. The foxian only laughed into the kiss, but let his tongue play with yours while he sped up the thrusts of his fingers.

He broke the kiss and carefully leaned his head forward to touch his forehead against yours, your warm breaths mingling together as you rutted against his hand. The knot in your belly grew tighter and tighter, your climax steadily approaching as the healer worked to send you over the edge.

Once you were sufficiently relaxed, Jiaoqiu plunged a third finger into your core and switched to rubbing your clit with the heel of his palm. You groaned at the stretch and clung to his shoulders, instinctively bucking your hips against his hand, trying to take the digits deeper. Soft moans of his name slipped past your lips as you moved your hips in time with his hand, feeling the knot in your belly slowly tighten.

Jiaoqiu’s ears perked up at the sound of his name, and he gently kissed your neck and shoulders, whispering praises about how lovely you sounded to encourage you to let more of your voice out. His other hand trailed along your side, reaching up to squeeze your breast and tease your nipple, or reaching behind to run along your spine in that same teasing manner, smiling when he felt your pussy flutter around his fingers in response.

“Are you close?” Jiaoqiu asked, keeping that same steady rhythm as he fingered you, hitting your g-spot.

“Y-Yeah… I’m close,” you answered, your voice wavering as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax.

“Then let go. Let me feel you come all over my fingers,” he whispered into your ear and gave it a nip.

As if by command, your body convulsed and you were hurled into an orgasm, hips desperately bucking into Jiaoqiu’s hand while your walls squeezed his digits. You stifled your moans against his shoulder, and Jiaoqiu continued to thrust his fingers into you, helping you ride out your orgasm until you stopped trembling. The foxian gently pulled his fingers out of your pussy, drenched and slick with your essence, before licking them clean.

“I missed your taste…” Jiaoqiu murmured, savoring your flavor, making you blush at this erotic display. The foxian gently pulled you against his chest, and you slumped against him, breathing heavily as you regained your senses.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, lightly stroking your head.

“Good. Very good,” you replied with a breathless chuckle. “I haven’t felt this relaxed in a while.”

Jiaoqiu smiled, pleased that he had such an effect on you.

Though the healer didn’t say anything, you felt his erection poke at your abdomen and knew that his body wanted more than the one orgasm you gave him earlier.

“Do you want to keep going?” you asked him as you traced a finger along the slimy mushroom tip. Jiaoqiu flinched at the unexpected touch and hissed.

“I wouldn’t mind if we kept going, but only if you want to, love.”

Smiling, you leaned in and gave him a light peck on the lips. “I do want to,” you said. “I’ve gone way too long without feeling you inside me. Just let me know if you need to stop.”

You made Jiaoqiu agree to tell you if he felt discomfort at any point before adjusting yourself on his lap. Lifting your hips, you lined up the tip of his cock with your entrance, taking a moment to tease it over your opening and coat it with your slick. Jiaoqiu stifled a groan and tightened his grip on your hips, restraining the urge to thrust his hips up and bury his aching cock in your slick warmth.

Once the tip was pressed against your entrance, you slowly sank down, taking Jiaoqiu’s length inch by inch. You both moaned once he bottomed out and basked in the familiar feeling of being joined together.

“I missed this,” Jiaoqiu said, resting his forehead against your shoulder while he breathed deeply to try and acclimate to the snug squeeze of your pussy. The sensation felt more intense than he remembered. “You feel so good around me, dear.”

“I missed this too,” you murmured, hugging Jiaoqiu and stroking his head.

“I wish I could see your face right now. I bet you look really cute,” he added in a low voice and traced a hand up your body until he felt the familiar curve of your jaw. His index finger lightly traced your cheek, causing your heart to squeeze in your chest. Taking his hand, you leaned your cheek into his palm and kissed the inside of his wrist. Jiaoqiu tensed at the sensation at first but quickly relaxed and smiled.

When both of you had grown accustomed to the sensations, you started moving. Gripping Jiaoqiu’s shoulders, you ground against him by slowly rotating your hips. His cock pleasantly rubbed along your walls, stoking the fire in your belly. Jiaoqiu let out another low moan and hugged you close, pressing your bodies flush together.

After a few minutes of this slow, gentle grinding, Jiaoqiu adjusted his hold on your waist and bucked upwards, driving himself deeper inside you. You moaned in surprise and stopped.

“You can move faster, I’m not going to break,” he reminded you, a hint of pleading in his voice. He wasn’t satisfied with this gentle pace.

“Fine. You’re so impatient,” you playfully chided him, but complied. Getting into a more comfortable position, you lifted off his lap before lowering back down again, biting back a moan at how his cock dragged against your walls. Over and over, you gently bounced on his dick, slowly picking up speed and angling your hips so his tip hit that sweet spot deep inside, sending jolts of pleasure through you with each thrust.

Jiaoqiu groaned and nuzzled into the crook of your neck, sucking more marks into the skin while his tail swished side to side in excitement. One of his hands roamed along your back, nails lightly raking down your spine and causing you to moan and shiver with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around his member, eliciting another throaty noise of pleasure from the foxian.

The sharp sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your heady moans of pleasure echoed in the room as you rode Jiaoqiu’s length. The knot in your belly tightened even more as you felt your climax slowly approach, but the tired aching in your thighs made you slow down. Your slowed pace alerted Jiaoqiu to your tiredness, and he skimmed a hand between your bodies until his fingers found your clit. He pressed hard on it and rubbed tight circles with the pad of his thumb, causing you to jolt and moan in response.

“Just a little more, dear. Hang in there for a little longer,” he encouraged, voice hoarse with pleasure. The stimulation against your clit motivated you to keep moving, chasing after your release that was now within reach.

“Jiaoqiu, I’m gonna cum,” you slurred, pressing your torso firmly against his as you spend up your thrusts. The foxian looped an arm around your waist, holding you close while still working on your clit.

“Go on, dear, cum for me. I’m also close,” he said in a strained voice, desperately trying to hold out to come together with you.

After a few more eager thrusts and rubs against your clit, you came with a loud cry. Your hands dug into Jiaoqiu’s shoulders as you rode out the high, hips eagerly grinding against his as your pussy pulsed around his cock. Jiaoqiu followed after you and climaxed while groaning your name, bucking his hips up into yours, forcing himself deeper into your cunt as he spilled inside your warmth.

With a shudder, you came down from your orgasm and slumped against Jiaoqiu’s torso, feeling completely spent. You were out of breath and your legs ached, but you were satisfied in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. Not since Jiaoqiu left for the Luofu over a month ago.

The feeling of the foxian’s hands gently massaging your thighs brought you back to reality, and you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were curled into a serene and sincere smile, an expression of true happiness adorning his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked that familiar question, one he always asked after each session of sex you had with him. As a doctor and your partner, he felt it was his duty to make sure you were alright afterward.

“Tired but thoroughly satisfied,” you said with a contented hum. Jiaoqiu’s smile widened.

“I’m glad. You did well,” he said and kissed your forehead.

After the two of you regained your strength, Jiaoqiu pulled out of you but kept you on his lap, hugging you close while still massaging the soreness out of your thighs. His head lay on your shoulder, tail lazily swaying from side to side while you absentmindedly rubbed one of his ears. He appeared to be at peace, a state you haven’t seen him in for weeks. After all, it’s hard to be at ease when you suddenly lose the functionality of your eyes and have to learn how to navigate the world without eyesight.

“One day, we’ll heal your eyes,” you whispered with determination. “I promise.”

Jiaoqiu let out a small hum, his tail pausing in its movements.

“I know you will. You and Feixiao will make it happen, one way or another,” he said with a hint of amusement. “But even if you don’t, I’ll be happy as long as I have you and everyone else by my side.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but his lips landed on your chin. Chuckling at his awkward targeting, the healer gently gripped your chin and tilted your head up for a proper kiss.

Jiaoqiu was still your beloved Jiaoqiu through and through. He was content to live a life where his loved ones were safe and happy, but you wanted to at least try to search for a solution to his blindness. Whether you had to scour through heaps of ancient records or travel to the other side of the universe, you wanted to help and heal Jiaoqiu the way he had helped and healed so many others.

But if by some misfortune there was no cure for his ailment, you will remain by his side no matter what. Jiaoqiu is devoted to you and you to him, and that will never change.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi!! I LOVE the pizzeria! I would love to place an order for a pizza! I’d like a thin crust pizza with Red sauce, pepperonis, jalenpeno, bacon and banana peppers with a water and sprite to drink served by Lando Norris!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brothers best friend red sauce rough sex pepperoni "be a good girl and you'll get what you want" jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" bacon "what would your brother think if he caught us" banana peppers "look so pretty riding my cock" water breeding kink sprite size kink dessert no served by Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Verstappen reader

TW rough sex, some degrading words, cock riding, creampie

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Always such a fucking brat," Lando mumbles against my ear. I mean he was right I was being a brat but it was all intentional.

I had been wanting Lando to fuck me, like really fuck me. So I've spent the whole weekend doing little things to piss him off.

Started by telling him I would spend my Friday and Saturday in the Red Bull garage to support my brother but then right before the boys needed to get into their car Lando happened to find me in the Ferrari garage. Which I was only there talking to Alex and Rebecca but in that moment he happened to catch me talking to Carlos, and while it was about Lando, Lando didn't need to know that.

Somehow that still didn't work. I could see the hurt flash in his eyes but he just kind of shrugged his shoulders and accepted my answer when I told him.

Then Saturday night we decided to have dinner with my brother and a few of the other drivers. During the whole dinner I pretty much gave all of my attention to Oscar and Lily making Lando groan and grip my thigh roughly making me think I was finally gonna get what I wanted but then when we got back to the hotel that night he told me he was tired and just gonna get a good night's sleep before the race.

I had one last chance to get fucked the way I needed to before we would be parting ways for a week.

It's Sunday which means race day. I always spend my time with Lando on Sunday. Some weekends Id go to Red Bull and others I would stay at Mclaren but no matter where I spent the weekend I was always in the Mclaren garage during the race.

But today, I decided to inform Lando that I was planning on watching from the Redbull garage since my brother had been struggling with the car and I wanted to be there to support him.

That was Lando's final straw.

After telling him I was gonna leave the Mclaren garage is when he called me a brat finally realizing what I had been doing all weekend.

"Did you think I didn't notice?" Lando questions while he ushers us into his driver's room where he quickly locked the door and pushed me against the wall.

"The way you lied about which garage you would be in, to giving Oscar and Lily heart eyes all last night practically begging to go back into their room and be their slut for them to use, to now trying to piss me off by saying you would be in a different garage during the race when it has always been the deal that Sunday's is a Mclaren day," Lando says with venom in his voice before he crashes his lips onto mine making me whimper into his mouth.

"Is this what you wanted?" Lando snapped making me nod my head sheepishly. Lando just scoffs before he makes quick work of stripping both of us down before he's on his knees pulling my clit into his mouth and giving it a long suck.

"Fuck," I groan when the pleasure starts coursing through my body.

"I needed this," I whimper out making Lando smirk against my pussy.

Lando keeps quick work with his tongue while bringing his fingers to my pussy before shoving them into my pussy and making me gasp at the quick intrusion.

"Fuck," I moan softly when Lando starts hitting my G-spot bringing me to an orgasm far quicker than I wanted.

When Lando can feel my pussy clenching and twitching around his fingers in a silent warning of my impending orgasm he pulls his fingers out and stops playing with my clit making me whine and whimper at the loss of pleasure.

"Be a good girl and you'll get what you want," Lando says while laughing slightly at my desperation. I only whine a bit louder before Lando roughly grips into my hair and starts pulling me towards the couch before he plops down and pulls his shorts down leaving him in just a shirt.

"Since you wanted to be a brat, you get to do the work," Lando says sharply making me climb into his lap and sink down on his cock making both of us gas.

I'm sinking down too slowly for Lando's liking because he grips onto my hips and pulls me down completely making me gasp again at the sharp intrusion.

I don't get much time to adjust because Lando starts bouncing me up and down his cock like I was his own personal toy, making me grip his shoulders to keep my balance while throwing my head back in a loud moan.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Lando mumbles making me moan.

"So good," I whimper while speeding up my actions trying to chase the orgasm Lando had denied me earlier.

"Fuck, how are you still this fucking tight," Lando groans throwing his head back and showing off his neck I have always loved. I bend down and place a soft kiss on it before sinking my teeth and leaving a faint hickey.

"No way you just marked me up right before I'm gonna be on live TV for 3 hours," Lando says roughly while taking control over again and bouncing me on his cock in such a quick and rough succession my mind gets lost and I can no longer think about anything but the way his cock is invading me.

"What would your brother think if he caught us? You bouncing on my cock with your head thrown back begging and whiney like a proper whore for me to use," Lando says roughly while fucking into my pussy and bringing one of his hands down to slap my clit making me whimper at the slight burn.

"You fucking loved that, I felt the way your pussy clenched for more," Lando says while landing another slap on my clit making me whimper.

"Close," I mumble. Lando just grabs my hips and lifts me up slightly so he can start thrusting into my pussy far faster than when he was using me like a toy.

"Fuck!" I scream while I start cumming all over Lando's cock making him groan.

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up, get you nice and full with my cum so one day I can watch you swell with my babies," Lando groans out before sending one last thrust deep into my pussy before he starts painting the walls of my soaked pussy with his cum making me moan at the feeling.

KNOCK KNOCK

We hear on the door making us scramble to find our clothes. When Lando is just in his boxers and the undershirt for his fireproofs he opens the door he makes sure to shield the door with his body not wanting anyone in the garage to see the scene behind him.

"We need you in the car in 5 minutes," I hear his engineer tell Lando making me dress even quicker. Lando just tells him he will be ready before closing the door.

"You're staying in Mclaren," Lando says leaving absolutely no room for argument.

[pentechnics]

Can't Get Enough

pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader rating: E | explicit | 18+ only word count: ~1,200 tags: nsfw, hate sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, throat/breath play, rough sex, multiple orgasms, angst, reader and din hate each other yet can't get enough, din makes you sad, no physical descriptions of reader, no y/n

notes: This isn't my usual style, but I just kinda had to get some stuff out. Not really edited or fully flushed out, for that matter. But hopefully posting something new will help me get further in my other work! I have something due for the d20 writing challenge and I am so sorry that one hasn't happened dfghjsfkl

taglist under the cut❤️

He slammed you against the wall with a loud thunk.

Your throat was sore from exertion, your pulse quickening with each groan he released.

His hand found your neck again and held tight, forcing you to look into that visor and see your own lust-blown gaze reflected back at you.

Fuck, he pissed you off. He got to see you like this, but you didn’t. Every time you two wound up like this, it felt like another charge added to an invisible tab. Like he owed you something, because you always gave him everything.

The thought was brief, soon vanquished by another angry thrust, pain and pleasure melding together and turning your brain to mush.

You peered in deeper, willing his eyes to show themselves. You channeled every ounce of mental energy you had left into him – how much he hurt you, how angry he made you. How angry you were at yourself to have given into this again.

And why? Nothing ever changed. He’d come over, both of you would be pissed as all hell, take it out on each other, and then he’d leave. Neither of you walked away feeling any better.

… You never stopped to wonder why he kept coming back. It took two to keep this up, after all. You sucked on his thumb when he stuck it in your mouth, wrapping your legs around him to bring him deeper into you.

You hated this. You hated that it always came down to this for you to feel something. Ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been searching for something, but hell if you knew what it was.

You hated that he was still your answer. You surely didn’t love him anymore, but you hated that you still needed him.

Especially because he doesn’t need you.

He rammed into you, deeper and deeper, sending you into convulsions. You screamed into the humid air, grasping at his shoulders for dear life.

His own cries followed, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing into the darkness. He pried you off the wall and threw you down on the bed, putting the full force of his weight into each delicious stroke.

You couldn’t help the whines that spilled out of you. He had a way of dragging out every single sensation until you were drowning in it all. Drowning in him.

It was infuriating.

You pulled yourself up to his shoulder, kissing and biting at his salty skin. A gorgeous, vindicating sense of pride soared through you when he let out a whimper. 

You liked to think you were the only one who could make him do that.

It made him pound harder into you. Your bite matched, his skin muffling your screams.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you panted.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Good.”

He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Swears piled out of you. Your heart was pounding, your blood on fire. He had the nerve to fucking chuckle.

“You like that, don’t you?”

 “Bastard.”

He did it again. You wailed.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Any wittiness he had was gone. His pace became manic, one goal in mind. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to ram his cock against your g-spot.

“Close your fucking eyes,” he growled, pressing a hand over them.

The sensations grew stronger without the distraction of sight. Especially after hearing the familiar hiss of his helmet and feeling the subsequent mouth on your neck.

Your moan echoed around you both. Your hand came up to press against his head.

“Din-“

Your orgasm erupted without warning. He used his hold on your head to press you into the mattress, fucking you through it without relent.

“Yes, keep coming, baby.”

Wave after wave of pleasure had your legs flailing and your back arching. Stars appeared before you. The onset of tears built up behind your eyes.

“I’m not fucking done,” he mumbled.

His free hand began to swirl your clit. You thought you couldn’t scream any louder, yet he proved you wrong.

Your muscles tensed up all over again, that sweet coil threatening to break with each tiny movement.

“You better fucking come again,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was holding himself back.

The combination of thrusting and tight circles on your clit had you coming undone again with ease. Your second release was stronger, your body’s convulsions all the more erratic.

But he didn’t stop.

His hand left your eyes to grip your hips, and you had to fight with yourself to keep from looking at him.

“One. More.”

He pulled you to the edge of the bed and dragged you onto his cock over and over. The new angle was steeper, hitting something deeper inside that you weren’t aware existed.

“Oh god,” you sighed. “Right there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whined.

He let out a groan and picked up the speed. You threw your arm over your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself for much longer.

His breath was labored, accentuated with deep heaving. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which meant—

“Runnin’ out of time, baby, you better give me one more.”

You squealed with each pulse of contact with your g-spot, but his words made a bead of annoyance interrupt your trance.

No, you thought. You’re not gonna get what you want this time.

You squeezed your muscles, clenching his cock tighter between your walls.

“FUCK,” he shouted. “Feels so good-”

His grunts were too much to bear, each one scratching that sweet spot in your brain that went straight to your pussy, but you had to hold back. He had to break first. You gripped the sheets with your free hand and clenched your jaw, desperate to keep the impending third orgasm down.

His grip on you tightened.

“Oh, fuck you,” he spat.

“You already are, dumbass.”

You didn't recognize the graininess of your own voice. But what came after told you it worked.

He leaned over you and continued the rapid pace, both of you moaning into the air just before coming in a heap of screams and roars.

He buried his head beside yours as he rode out his pleasure, taking yours with it.

He eventually slowed to a stop, standing back up and taking care to pull out the condom with his spend without spilling, just as he did every time.

You heard the plop of it getting thrown in the trash before he leaned over you once more, caging in your frame with his arms.

“Look at me.”

“I haven’t heard the helmet-”

“Look. At me.”

Even through his labored breathing, his voice was unwavering. He put his hands on either side of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his when you did peek your eyes open.

The tiny amount of air that had replenished in your lungs was gone.

He was a vision: skin glowing with sweat, eyebrows scrunched with a crease in the middle, sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose…

… But those fucking brown eyes. They were just downright unfair.

You put your hands over his wrists to keep his hold in place. A glimmer of hope dared to emerge in your head – is he letting you see him because he actually did care? Was there still something in him that loved you?

But then he let out a deep chuckle. Your heart broke all over again.

Why’d I even bother?

“You’ll never get enough, will you?”

You gulped. It always came down to this. But this time, you’d seen the truth.

Not only was this his last playing card, but you had a winning hand.

A confident grin bloomed across your face, the satisfaction already tasting so sweet now that you got to say this directly to his actual face. You’d get to see that smug expression die.

You’d get to finally be the one to let him down.

“Neither can you.”

****

taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @girlofchaos @christina-loves @literallydontlook @the-little-ewok @salome-c @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part11

multipart story! part1 part2 part3 part4 part5 part6 part7 part8 part9 part10

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

very important note at the end - pls read it

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Y/N and Lando walked back to her apartment in silence, the cool rain still falling lightly around them. Their hands were entwined, the contact grounding them as they made their way through the quiet streets. Every step felt like a promise, every glance a reassurance that they were finally on the same page, ready to confront the past that had haunted them for so long.

As they entered Y/N’s apartment, the familiar warmth of the space enveloped them. She flicked on the lights, casting a soft glow over the room, and dropped her keys on the counter. For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of what had happened between them settling in the air.

Lando took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We should talk.”

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding. “Yeah, we should.”

They moved to the couch, sitting down with a cautious distance between them, the tension from before replaced with a more vulnerable kind of anticipation. The kind that came from knowing that the next few minutes could either heal them or break them all over again.

Y/N was the first to speak, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never wanted things to end the way they did. I was just… scared, Lando. Scared of how much you meant to me, scared of losing myself in you. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her, the pain of their breakup still fresh in his memory. “I get it, Y/N. I was scared too. But the way we both handled it… the things we said…”

His voice broke slightly, and Y/N reached out, her hand finding his. “We hurt each other so badly,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more than the way I treated you. I thought pushing you away would make it easier, but it just… destroyed us.”

Lando squeezed her hand, his own eyes glistening with tears. “You said dating me was a mistake, and it killed me, Y/N. I kept hearing those words over and over, wondering if you ever really loved me at all.”

Tears spilled down Y/N’s cheeks as she shook her head, her voice cracking. “I didn’t mean it, Lando. I was so angry, and I just wanted to hurt you because I was hurting. But I never, ever believed that. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his own tears now falling freely. “It wasn’t just you, though. I said things too, things I can’t take back. I was so hurt by what you said, I wanted you to feel the same pain I was feeling. But all it did was tear us apart.”

Y/N leaned closer, her voice breaking with emotion. “I hated myself for letting you go, for saying those things. Every day, I missed you, Lando. But I was too proud, too scared to admit that I was wrong.”

Lando’s hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb gently wiping away her tears. “I missed you too, more than I can even explain. But I was so angry at you, and at myself. I felt like I wasn’t enough for you, like I couldn’t make you happy.”

Y/N shook her head, more tears falling. “You were everything to me, Lando. I was just too blind to see it at the time. I let my fear control me, and I lost the most important person in my life because of it.”

Lando’s voice was thick with emotion as he spoke. “I felt the same way, Y/N. I lost myself in the anger, in the pain of losing you. I started acting out, trying to forget, but nothing worked. Nothing made me feel better.”

The air between them was heavy with all the unsaid words, all the pain that had been bottled up for so long. Y/N’s heart ached as she looked at Lando, seeing the hurt in his eyes, knowing she had put it there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “For everything. I wish I could take it all back, Lando.”

Lando shook his head, pulling her closer. “We can’t change the past, but we can start over. We can try again, if you still want that.”

Y/N’s tears flowed freely as she nodded, her heart swelling with hope. “I do, Lando. I want that more than anything. But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Lando pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a soft, broken whisper. “We’ll figure it out, Y/N. Together this time. No more running away, no more pushing each other away. Just us, facing whatever comes together.”

Y/N let out a sob, the weight of the past finally lifting from her shoulders. “I love you, Lando. I never stopped.”

Lando’s own tears fell as he pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he would never let go. “I love you too, Y/N. And I’m not going anywhere.”

They held each other for a long time, their tears mingling as they finally let go of the pain that had kept them apart for so long. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other’s arms, ready to start over.

Y/N and Lando sat on her couch, the heaviness of their earlier conversation giving way to a lighter, more playful atmosphere. The weight of their past had been lifted, leaving space for something new—something familiar, yet fresh.

Y/N curled up, tucking her legs under her as she sipped on the hot chocolate Lando had made. She glanced at him, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So, tell me… how many dates did you go on while we were broken up?”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Me? Dates? Nah, I was just too busy being a ‘man of mystery’ or whatever the tabloids were calling me.”

Y/N chuckled, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You know I kept tabs on you. You weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

Lando grinned, leaning back against the couch. “Okay, fine. I went on a few dates… but none of them ever felt right. I’d be sitting there, trying to make conversation, but all I could think about was how you would have rolled your eyes at the things they were saying.”

Y/N laughed, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. “Well, for the record, I didn’t date much either. I tried, but every guy just felt… off. They weren’t you.”

Lando’s smile softened as he looked at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “So, we were both equally terrible at moving on, huh?”

“Pretty much,” Y/N admitted, laughing. “I even went out with this one guy who was super into cars, hoping it would make things easier. But all I could think about was how much you’d love to debate him on whether Ferrari or McLaren was better.”

Lando snorted, shaking his head. “That poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Y/N giggled, the sound light and infectious. “Nope, not at all. And every time I’d see a photo of you with some model, I’d convince myself that I was totally over you… but then I’d stalk your Instagram and see your stories, and I’d realize I was just lying to myself.”

Lando chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, I may have done some stalking myself. I’d see you posting about all the new things you were doing, and I’d try to convince myself that you were happier without me. But it only made me want to reach out more.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “It’s kind of sad, isn’t it? We were both trying so hard to move on, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other.”

“Sad?” Lando repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think it’s kind of sweet. We’re both just hopeless when it comes to each other.”

“Yeah, hopeless,” Y/N agreed, her voice softening. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with your best friend.”

Lando’s expression grew tender as he reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you so much, Y/N. No one could ever compare to you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, and she placed her hand over his, squeezing it gently. “I missed you too, Lando. Every single day.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, their fingers intertwined, both of them reveling in the warmth of their reunion.

Lando glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You know, if we’d just swallowed our pride a little sooner, we could have avoided all those awful fucking dates.”

Y/N laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “True. But then we wouldn’t have these funny stories to tell.”

“Fair point,” Lando conceded, grinning. “And, hey, at least we know now that no one else stands a chance.”

Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “No one ever did, Lando. It was always you.”

Lando wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. “And it was always you for me, too.”

As they sat there, cuddled up on the couch, the weight of the past fell away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the present. They were no longer two people trying to move on from each other—they were two people who had finally found their way back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------avaspeaks - hi lovelies! im so sorry for being gone for so long, exam prep threw me for a toss and i was so occupied and busy. but now im back for good and ready to update the blog. i felt so awful for not updating because i know the frustration when a series is just left unfinished. but worry not because your girl is back and ready to finish all the requests and series!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164 @imboredway2much @demandealalune e @elz-xo o @bellelovesharryy @hey-there9-its-me @marauders-wife @itsjustfranzi @l-sofiamia-l @ironmaiden1313 @01rrdbull @avni-sarai @maddy27

comment to get added to the taglist

[yukioos]

Hi!! <3

I was wondering if you could do a Wolverine and Deadpool × S/O who is very strong but doesn't look it?

If that makes sense...

Like the S/O is very sweet and shorter than them. But she is a total powerhouse! She can easily lift extremely heavy things, or can punch really hard.

Like even harder or stronger than the them!

I hope that made sense!! I love your writing, thank you!! ❤️

logan & wade with strong!reader (0.4k)

warnings: cussing, not proofread

authors note: i’m so sorry i don’t have a lot of hcs!! i do love the idea of wade or logan being with a strong reader though :) so sorry this took so long to post! i’m glad you like my writing, thank you for requesting!

logan howlett

- when he first met you, he anticipated you wouldn’t be as strong because of your stature, he tried attacking you and was shocked when you threw him across the room

- then he started viewing you as a threat because you were stronger than him

- he later realized you were the sweetest and cutest thing ever, and began flirting with you 24/7

- he’s always testing you and asking if you can carry one thing or another, like a large box or a couch

- he secretly thinks it's so badass that you’re so much stronger than you appear

- everyone who sees you immediately thinks you’re a sweetheart, a frail thing someone could take care of

- they’re half wrong, and logan makes that clear to others who flirt with you

- he loves working out with you so much, it gives you one more activity to do together

wade wilson

- let’s be honest, wade is down bad for you whether or not you’re strong

- sometimes if he’s being sassy, you’ll just throw him over your shoulder and place him in another room then walk away

- of course, he never stays in his place and follows you to wherever you’re going

- though, he’s always teasing you about how you’re so tiny but so strong

- if someone ever messes with you and he’s around, he either doesn’t tell them that you’re strong or full-on brags about it

- although you’re strong, he still babies you constantly and tells you how cute you are, fully aware that you could rip his head off without trying

- sometimes he’ll ask you to open things like jars for him just so he can admire your strength

- wade kinda loves that you can beat him up so easily, he knows you won’t hurt him but loves to have a strong woman by his side

- he loves using your head as an armrest, always placing his arm on your head when he’s tired

- sometimes you’ll slap his arm away and he’ll yelp, but place it back on your head anyway

logan & wade

- both of them know that you could kick their asses with no effort, but tease you nonetheless

- they both love you with their whole hearts

- wade loves yapping to logan about how strong you are, while logan silently agrees with everything he says

[saintjosie]

Nobody within my community believes that my mom is physically & verbally abusive to me & my younger siblings because she maintains a good public image by being nice & providing for everybody else. I'm sorry that I'm sending this through an ask but I've tried so much for 17 years & I feel like I'm at the end of my rope, I'm sorry...

i hear you, i see you, i believe you, and my heart hurts for you.

im going to be honest, as much as i wish i could personally help you, i can’t because you’re a minor and also because honestly, i don’t know what to do.

but as someone who went through childhood abuse myself and has since reclaimed my power, i promise you, it is possible and i promise you that you are doing so much better than you think.

and i know how it feels to feel powerless. to take on the hurt of people who should be taking on yours and feeling like it’s your fault.

and one of the things i’ve realized through years and years of healing is that abusers abuse because they feel powerless. and they feel this way because of the people who raised them, because of the people around them, because of the how the world sees them, but also most importantly, how they see themselves. the anger and abuse they take out on us are because they hate themselves and they try to reclaim their power from others by making them feel powerless.

but if you feel powerless right now there’s something i’ve realized in the process of reclaiming my own power that might help you.

1) the first step is to recognize that what is happening to you isn’t right. this might be something you’ve known for a long time and something that might seem incredibly obvious to you but it is far more difficult than it seems. it is SO easy to get trapped into thinking that this pain is your fault and this is why so many people get trapped in the cycle of abuse and abuse others. but you know that the way you are being treated is not right. that is already powerful.

2) the second step is reaching out for help. you dropped me an ask and you spoke your truth. you trusted someone on the internet you don’t know but took a chance anyways and that takes SO much strength. because strength is not about always being strong because that simply isn’t possible. strength is knowing your weaknesses and asking for help when you need it. because everyone needs help sometimes and so few people reach out to ask when they do. but you made the choice to reach out.

3) i can’t help you but there are absolutely people who can. people who have been through what you have gone through and have a fire within them that drives them to make sure that no one else has to feel this way.

and so even though i’m writing specifically to you anon, i also know that the people who see this and understand will say something.

so now dear reader, if you have words of encouragement or resources to share, please do.

i see you, i love you, and i believe in you.

[whimsiwitchy]

cyg part six teaser...

hi everyone. I appreciate you all for being so patient with me as I work through my mess lol. here's a tiny teaser for the opening of part six to hold you over. part six will be out this weekend! enjoy <3

*spoilers below*

Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 

As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.

[alwaysmicado]

Callisto I

10.2k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 9

Series Masterlist | Joel Masterlist | previous | AO3

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, weed, mention of domestic violence, toxic dynamic, graphic vomiting, emotional rollercoaster, fluff Summary: Your car ride home from the beach is...eventful. Joel does something special for you to express his feelings. A/N: This part was going to be much too long, so I split it in two. It was important for me to post part I of Callisto before my birthday, and I’m so excited that I finally get to share it with you. Happy reading & please let me know your thoughts if you’re up for it. Thank you for your continued support, guys! ♡ Dividers by @/cafekitsune. Songs: Backburner by NIKI & My Exes by Snake City

“Why do you keep coming back?”

You bring the joint to your lips, your fingers brushing lightly against his as he passes it over. You take a deep drag, letting the familiar burn of the weed settle into your lungs before you exhale, slowly, the smoke curling into the night air. It’s a slow haze, softening your anger, making it easier to breathe even if only for a little while. 

The pressure in your chest doesn’t lift—it never does, not really—but the weed at least dulls the edges.

For now, anyway.

The streetlight casts long shadows on the chipped concrete, bathing you both in a murky orange hue. You sit side by side on the curb, the shared joint passing lazily between you, the quiet of the night only disturbed by a dog barking further down the road.

Simon leans back, his shoulders slumped, the hood of his jacket pulled up, obscuring most of his face. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, tracing the outline of his jaw, the way his lips curl around the joint. You hate how he still looks good to you, even after his latest stunt. 

“Why do you keep coming back?” he asks again, his voice low and gravelly, as if he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it. “If all we do is hurt each other?”

You shrug, looking up at the stars, or what little of them you can see through the haze of city smog. You know the answer, but it feels too pathetic to admit out loud. The truth? It’s not that simple. It never has been.

“Maybe because the pain is addicting,” you whisper, your voice barely cutting through the stillness. “It’s like…a twisted dance, and we can’t stop stepping on each other’s toes.”

Simon smirks, and you catch the briefest glimpse of that crooked smile that makes your heart race. “You always were poetic,” he mutters, his tone tinged with both affection and scorn. He passes you the joint again, and this time, when your fingers brush, it sends a jolt through you—familiar, electric, dangerous.

You take a drag, letting the smoke cloud your thoughts, dull the ache. “I mean it, Simon,” you say, the words coming out slower now, heavy from both the high and the weight of them. “We know how to hurt each other in all the right ways. It’s almost like…we’re better at hurting than loving.”

He chuckles, but it’s empty, hollow. “Maybe we were never supposed to love in the first place,” he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe all we’re good at is fucking things up.”

There’s no denying the truth in his words. You’ve been here before, countless times, caught in this cycle of destruction, breaking each other apart piece by piece, only to come back together, craving the chaos more than the calm. Simon would get restless after a while, he’d cheat and lie, you’d find out, you’d scream, cry, threaten to leave, and then—somehow—you’d end up in his arms again.

It was exhausting, suffocating, but it was also magnetic. You didn’t know how to leave. And neither did he.

You sigh, flicking the ashes of the joint onto the ground, your hand trembling slightly. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” you say, more to yourself than to him. “The way I can’t seem to let you go, even though I know you’re bad for me.”

He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips as he studies your face for a moment. “Have you ever considered that you’d be a lot happier if you just admitted to yourself that you like it?”

He reaches for the joint, his fingers brushing yours for longer this time, deliberate. “You can keep telling yourself I’m the bad guy all you want, babe,” he says, his voice low, “but we both know you ain’t innocent in this either. You like it. The fighting, the drama, the sex. You like what we have.”

Your stomach tightens at his words, because there’s a part of you that knows he’s right. 

You’ve said things, done things, you’re not proud of. Screamed in his face, hurled insults meant to wound, thrown plates that shattered like the fragile remains of your relationship. And then, when the storm passed, you’d pull him into bed, your anger melting into a desperate kind of need. It was all you knew—this toxic spiral that twisted love and pain together until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“Maybe,” you admit softly, feeling the weight of your own guilt settle on your shoulders. “Maybe I do.”

Simon turns to you then, his gaze locking with yours, and for a moment, you can see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he never lets anyone else see. “So, what are we doing here?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “We’re just gonna keep doing this? Over and over?”

You swallow hard, the question hanging between you like a knife. You know the answer, even if you don’t want to admit it. You’re stuck in this loop, and neither of you knows how to break free.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to stop.”

Simon leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, and for a second, your heart races with that familiar, dangerous anticipation. “We don’t have to stop,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “We can keep this going; keep fucking up, keep hurting, keep loving. It’s what we do.”

You let out a small, tired laugh, and shake your head. “Yeah, Simon, great plan,” you say, your tone light, almost condescending, though there’s no real bite behind it. “Let’s just keep breaking each other into pieces. That’s gonna end well.”

You don’t even have the energy to fight properly. It’s all too much, and you’re too tired. Tired of the fights, the back-and-forth, the constant cycling through pain and passion like it’s the only way you know how to exist together.

He watches you closely, his gaze unwavering, as if he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, waiting for you to snap at him, to tell him off. But you don’t. You can’t. You feel the exhaustion settle in your bones, making it impossible to muster up any anger.

Why is it so difficult?

What the hell is wrong with you that it’s so difficult for him to love you? To not hurt you? You wonder if it’s something about you, something broken deep inside, something that makes you impossible to love. 

You’ve tried, haven’t you? You’ve bent yourself to fit the version of you he seems to want, the version that’s easier, less complicated, less demanding. But no matter how much you bend, no matter how much you give, it’s never enough.

What is it about you that’s so unlovable?

“I’m sorry, you know,” Simon murmurs, taking a long drag from the joint.

You blink, your head feeling light, detached, like you’re floating just above the surface of yourself. The words come slower now, softer, like you have to pull them from some faraway place.

“For what?”

You hear yourself ask the question, but it feels distant, like it’s not really you speaking. The world around you is muffled, like you’re wrapped in cotton, the sounds, the lights, all muted. Simon’s face swims in your vision, and for a moment, you focus on the way his lips curve as he exhales, the smoke curling lazily from his mouth. You watch it drift up, swirling in the air between you, and it’s almost beautiful, the way it moves, weightless and free.

Simon glances at you, his eyes half-lidded, bloodshot, but there’s something in his gaze—something that makes you feel a tug of recognition, though your mind is too foggy to grasp what it is. He takes another drag, slower this time, and when he speaks again, his voice is soft.

“You know what.” He hands you back the joint and you take it, and you inhale deeply, the burn in your lungs calming your nerves.

“Then why’d you do it?” 

He hadn’t even tried to hide it this time. You heard the story from someone else first, a smug, offhand comment meant as a joke. Simon, with his arm slung over your shoulder, laughing along like it was nothing, like you weren’t standing right there, feeling the ground crumble beneath your feet.

“I was drunk as fuck ‘cause they kept bringing shots after shots after shots, and she took advantage of that like you wouldn’t believe. That’s what those girls do, and shit, I wasn’t the only one they got like that—Ben, Jake, Alex, Teddy too, I think.”

All of them in relationships, one to be married in two weeks, one with a baby on the way. 

Disgusting.

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Simon furrows his brow, turning to you, confusion flashing across his face. “What do you mean?”

You shake your head, unable to look at him directly, your gaze fixed on the joint between your fingers. “Going through life, knowing nothing is ever your fault,” you murmur. There’s no anger in your tone, just a tired sort of resignation, like you’re saying something you’ve known all along.

“What are you talking about?” he scoffs. “Nothing’s ever been easy for me. I fucked up royally, yeah, I get that, but it wasn’t my fucking fault. I didn’t even wanna go to the damn club, but Alex wouldn’t stop begging, so I gave in.”

“You see?” you say, your voice quiet, but firm. “You’re fine as long as Alex was the one who made you cheat. It’s all good ‘cause the stripper took advantage of you, right?” You can hear the bitterness in your own voice.

“You don’t need to change or grow, ‘cause, what’s the point, your parents fucked you up anyway. It’s your boss’s fault your coworkers complain about you, it’s the cops’ fault that you got a DUI, and it’s my fault that you resent me.”

You watch Simon’s face as the words sink in, the flicker of defensiveness in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens.

“And I know that deep down you really do believe all that.” You pause, staring at him through the thick fog clouding your mind, your body sinking deeper into the concrete. “So, I guess my question is…why even bother with me anymore?”

“Baby…”

“No, I’m serious,” you say, cutting him off, but there’s no fire in your voice, just a dull weariness that matches the slow pulse of your heartbeat. “Why? Why keep me around when you could be happy, doing what you wanna do, without me holding you back?”

Simon sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. “I wouldn’t be happy without you.”

“But I’m not enough for you,” you whisper, tears inadvertently filling your eyes. “I’ve never been enough. Despite trying everything in my power. I’m not enough for you.”

Simon doesn’t answer right away. He takes the joint from your hand, inhaling deeply, staring at some distant point in the darkened parking lot. The quiet stretches, thick and uncomfortable, and for a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all. But then he finally sighs, rubbing a hand over his face like he’s trying to buy himself more time.

“What do you want me to say?” he mutters. “You know I’m not always good with words or expressing feelings and all that shit…but you’re wrong. You’re everything to me.”

He hands you the joint and you shake your head, a mirthless laugh bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, that’s why you fucked a stripper and had unprotected sex with me right after. Do you hear yourself?”

He exhales exasperatedly as he leans back, palms pressed against the cool concrete. “It’s not– it didn’t mean anything,” he says, his voice defensive. “It’s not like I’m looking for someone better than you.”

“Then why?” you press, your voice shaking now. “If I’m so important to you, why do you keep lying and sneaking around? What’s the point?”

He sighs again, louder this time, like he’s tired of this conversation before it’s even really begun. “I don’t know, okay? I get restless sometimes. I’m not…thinking when I do it.” His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that makes your heart clench. “It’s not like I’m trying to hurt you. I’m really not, baby. And It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

His hand tightens around yours, grounding you in the moment, and for a second, you almost feel comforted.

Almost.

But then, like a flash, the memory hits you—sharp, vivid, paralyzing.

The pain shoots through your wrist all over again, that awful, sickening crunch echoing in your ears. You’re back in the ER, the blinding white lights overhead making your eyes burn, your head pounding as you sit there, staring at the sterile walls. You’d made up some story, but the nurse looked right through you, her eyes filled with pity.

You remember how you sat there, waiting, your body aching but your mind empty, not even able to cry a single tear. Just numb. Completely detached from yourself, like you were watching it all from the outside.

You remember the young doctor, the one who stitched you up. His voice was light, conversational, doing his best to distract you from the deep gash in your wrist. He told you about how his daughter had just started kindergarten that day. How proud and terrified he and his wife were, how they’d taken a hundred pictures of her in her little backpack. How she was such a happy, bright girl, full of curiosity and excitement.

You could barely listen, but you remember the way his voice softened when he said, “I just hope she always knows how loved she is.”

That was the part that stuck with you.

The way his voice cracked just slightly when he said it, like he was imagining all the ways the world could break her. How someone could end up hurting her like someone hurt you. And as you sat there, the needle pulling your skin back together, all you could think about was how far away that feeling was—how you had no idea what it felt like to be that loved, that safe.

You swallow hard, looking down at your intertwined hands. “You’ve said that before, you know. When you drove me home from the hospital.” Your voice is soft, almost too quiet, but the accusation is there.

Simon stiffens. His grip loosens slightly, and you can see the flicker of guilt in his eyes, but it’s the kind of guilt that runs shallow, just skimming the surface. His jaw clenches, and he pulls his hand away.

“I thought you were over that,” he mutters. 

You stare at him for a moment, then let out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah, sure,” you say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You hold out your hand to him, the small scar visible on your wrist, faded but undeniable. “Totally over it. Look, it’s almost like it never happened.”

Simon’s face falters as he hesitates, then takes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as though trying to erase it with that simple touch.

“I wasn’t right that night,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on your hand before you pull away. “You know I’m not…I wasn’t right.”

You chuckle and take the joint from him. “Yeah, I know.”

He’s silent beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for you again but doesn’t know how. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with unspoken words, but you don’t look at him. Instead, you take a slow drag from the joint, letting the smoke fill your lungs.

“I’m not doing that anymore,” Simon says quietly.

You don’t respond. You don’t even look at him. You smoke in silence, absentmindedly rubbing over a faded bruise on your leg.

“The past few months were nice, weren’t they?” Simon’s voice cuts through the silence, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. “I mean, we were fine, right? You were happy?”

You nod, exhaling slowly as the smoke leaves your lips. “I was happy, yeah.”

“Then let’s go back to that. I don’t wanna fall asleep without you in my arms again.” He moves closer, his hand reaching for your chin, gripping it gently, so you’ll look at him. His eyes are wide, pleading, the same look he always gives you when he’s trying to pull you back in. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Which time?

“Hey, I mean it.” He turns your head back, his grip tighter now. “I’m trying to be better for you, I really am. Just…tell me what you want me to do to make it right and I’ll do it. Anything.” 

“You know, I never wanted you to become a better person for me, Simon,” you say softly, removing his hand from your chin, and letting it fall to his side. “I wanted you to look in the mirror, and realize that you’re a fucking asshole, and change for yourself. I wanted you to realize you’re turning into the very man you always told me you’d rather die than become.”

He stares at you for a moment, then shakes his head as the mask he so carefully wears is slipping. “You love doing this, don’t you?” he mutters. “Pushing, prodding, trying to make me feel like shit.”

You curl your arms around your legs, pulling them close to your chest, your voice calm. “If the shoe fits…”

“Oh, really?” he scoffs, his voice dripping with venom. “You think you’re so much fucking better than me, don’t you? Well, let me tell you this, princess. You’re not as fucking perfect as you think you are, and if you think other people can’t see that, you’re hallucinating.”

“I don’t think I’m perfect, Simon. I wouldn’t be here if I did.” Your voice is softer than you intend, like the weed is suppressing your strength to yell. “I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Then why the fuck are you here if you hate me so much?”

“‘Cause I’m an idiot.” You bring the joint to your lips and inhale deeply. “I’m an idiot who can’t let go. ‘Cause I still think you could be better if you just tried. If you stopped listening to your friends, if you stopped drinking, if you stopped blaming me for every shitty thing that’s happened to you in the last five years.”

He’s shaking his head before you even finish. “I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“And your solution is to just up and leave without telling me where you are? Very mature.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t talk to you, Simon. Every time I try, it’s like I’m talking to a wall.”

“You could talk to me if you actually wanted to,” he snaps back. “But it fits your narrative better when you can storm out, make your big scene, and go enjoy your little power trip. That’s what you do, right? It’s easier than actually being a grown-up and talking things out with me.”

“You’re delusional,” you mutter, brow furrowed.

“I’m delusional?” Simon’s laugh is hollow, his eyes flashing. “Yeah, right. I think you’re the one who’s lost it.”

You feel the words leaving his mouth before he even says them, the familiar sting of what’s next, and it’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. “Like you’re any better than me. Look who the fuck’s talking. Her mother’s daughter.”

There it is. The blow he always lands when he’s desperate to hit you where it hurts.

It’s his ace, the easiest way to throw you off-balance, to bring you down to the level where you feel vulnerable and he can control the conversation again.

You feel an old pain rising to the surface, but instead of letting it show, you smile. It’s not a real smile, but a small, knowing curve of your lips, the kind that hides everything you refuse to let him see. You’re not taking the bait this time.

“She had to go to the hospital again,” you murmur, your eyes on the joint as you bring it to your lips for one last drag. Then, you stub it out on the curb, watching the ember fade. “Thanks for asking.”

Simon’s face falls, the sharp edge of his anger crumbling away. “Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

“Oh, you know,” you cut him off with a casual shrug. “It is what it is.”

“Why didn’t you–”

“‘Cause you were balls deep in a goddamn stripper, Simon,” you interrupt, your voice cold and flat. “I can’t rely on you.”

His face twists in frustration, but his eyes soften, and if you weren’t as high as you are, you’d see the little lines of guilt written all over his face. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, his hand hovering for a second before he gently rests it there.

“Baby, you know you can rely on me,” he says softly. “We have our problems, sure, but I always have your back.”

You roll your eyes, but he presses on, his voice earnest. “Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not true.”

Your eyes meet his. You know exactly what he’s referring to.

That one thing he holds onto as proof, as his trump card, the one time he truly came through for you when it mattered most. The time you thought you’d lose everything. If it’s not your histrionic mother he uses against you, it’s this.

“You can’t hold that over my head for the rest of my life,” you say, your voice steady but sharp. “You don’t get to help me when I need you most and then throw it in my face every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

His hand falls from your shoulder. He knows you’re right, but he doesn’t want to admit it. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m agitated. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He shifts uncomfortably beside you, his fingers twitching in his lap as he glances away. When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter, hesitant. “Is she gonna be alright?”

You nod, but there’s no relief in it. “Mhm.” 

There’s a long pause, heavy and suffocating, like an unseen barrier between you two. The night air is crisp, and your bare legs peeking out beneath your skirt are starting to get cold. Simon breaks the silence first.

“Baby, look at me. Please.” 

You blink slowly, your eyes struggling to focus as everything around you starts to blur. The edges of Simon’s face seem to dissolve into the night, his features soft and indistinct, almost like he’s not really there. But you find him again, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his disheveled hair. He looks…lost. It’s rare to see him this vulnerable, this unsure.

How beautiful.

“Can we go home?”

You don’t hear him, not really. All you hear is the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor echoing in your ears. It’s distant but persistent, a steady pulse that reminds you of things you’d rather forget. Then, a disembodied voice, calmly announcing that, “This could have been prevented. This is your fault.”

The words float through your mind, circling, wrapping tighter and tighter around you.

“Baby?”

You try to focus on Simon’s face again, but it’s hard to think, hard to find the words. Everything feels slow, muffled, like you’re moving underwater.

“I have to go,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, like the words are slipping away from you even as you say them.

He tenses up immediately, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean, ‘go’?”

“It means I’m tired, Simon. It means I can’t do this anymore.”

The silence that follows is deafening, like the world has suddenly come to a standstill, waiting for the inevitable fallout. You can practically feel Simon’s frustration pulsing off him.

But as you tilt your head, your gaze wandering over his face, the familiar lines of anger are there, yes. But beneath that, hidden in the set of his shoulders, in the way his hands rest uncertainly in his lap, you can sense something different. Fear. Real fear that this time, you might actually mean it. That this time, you might actually leave.

He doesn’t say anything as you stand up, your legs trembling beneath you, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of your chest. The world spins around you, dizzying, your vision blurred, and you stumble. Instinctively, Simon reaches out, steadying you with his hand.

But you shove him away immediately, your skin burning where his fingers brushed yours. You can’t let him touch you right now. If he touches you, you know you’ll crumble. You know you’ll fall back into his orbit like you always do.

And you may just be unable to afford that anymore.

But then, like a shadow moving through the haze of your high, Simon is suddenly in front of you—close, too close. His presence is disorienting, his words pouring over you before you can even process the distance he’s just closed.

“You don’t mean it,” he says, low and sure, like a statement of fact, as if he’s already decided this for you. His eyes lock onto yours, and it feels like you’re sinking into them, the pull of him as strong as ever, like gravity. He knows how to make you feel small, like your words hold no weight next to his certainty.

“I love you,” he whispers, and the tenderness in his voice makes you shiver, even though your mind screams for you to stay strong. His words wrap around you, weaving through the cracks in your resolve. His face is so close now, his breath warm against your skin, and you can’t tell if it’s the weed or the way he’s looking at you, but everything feels…slower. Softer. Like you’re slipping into a warm, dangerous comfort.

“You know how much I love you, don’t you? Yeah, I messed up, I know I did. But don’t let this ruin us. We’re too good together for that.” His voice is so gentle, hypnotic…irresistible.

“Simon…”

He steps even closer, the space between you disappearing as his hands find yours. His touch is warm, grounding, and despite the cold night air biting at your skin, his presence feels like shelter. He squeezes your hands softly, and your heart stumbles over itself.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he whispers, pleading. “Don’t walk away from us. We’re not perfect, but we belong together. You’re my family, baby. You’re all I have in this godforsaken world. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like I matter…like I deserve love.”

It’s incredible, really, how easily he can break you down, how he can strip away all your defenses with just a few words. He knows exactly which buttons to push, how to weave his need for you into something that feels like love, something that feels like safety—even though you should know better.

He sees it, too. He sees the way your resolve falters, the way your eyes flicker with that familiar softness, and a satisfied smile curls on his lips. He knows he’s got you. He always knows when he’s won.

“C’mere,” he says gently, his hands sliding up your arms, pulling you toward him, and despite every instinct telling you to run, you let him. You let him hold you, let him wrap his arms around you like a protective shield against the world.

Your body sinks into his, your cheek resting against his chest, and you can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Each beat is a rhythm you’ve known for years, one that’s soothed you through your darkest moments, even as it’s caused some of them. His scent wraps around you, familiar and intoxicating, like the remnants of a home you’re desperate to return to. You let yourself drown in the warmth of him, in his steady presence that has helped you through so much. His hand strokes the back of your head, his touch soft, soothing.

It’s messed up how right it feels.

How comforting it is to be here in his arms, even when your heart is breaking inside.

“I love you,” Simon whispers again, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m so sorry for everything. I’m so fucking sorry. But you’re all I have, babe. I need you.”

You close your eyes, biting back the sob that threatens to escape. His words seep into your skin, and you want so desperately to believe him. 

You love him. God, do you love him. Even when it hurts. Even when it breaks you. And right now, with his arms around you, you miss him so deeply it feels like a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t want to be without him. He’s the only thing that’s ever felt like family to you. The only person who knows all your scars, all your flaws, and still pulls you close.

“I need you too,” you whisper, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s the truth, as ugly as it is.

Simon holds you tighter, his arms enveloping you, and for now, you let yourself sink into the comfort of it. Into the warmth of his embrace, into the way his hand rubs slow circles on your back like he’s trying to erase all the hurt, all the broken pieces between you.

You let him tell you he loves you, let him soothe you with his words, let him promise you the world, even though deep down, you know you’ll both end up in the same place again.

And before you know it, you’re slipping into the passenger seat, the door closing behind you with a soft, final click.

“You okay, darlin’?”

Joel’s voice pulls you back, the deep rumble of his question cutting through the fog of memories clouding your mind.

You blink, taking in the familiar interior of his car, the hum of the road beneath the tires, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating his profile. The past feels too close, too heavy, pressing on your chest like you’re still stuck in it. But Joel is here, real and solid next to you, grounding you in the present.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly, your voice a little rougher than you mean for it to be. “Just tired.”

You see him glance over at you, concern evident in his eyes, but he doesn’t push. Not this time. He’s trying his hardest not to pry, not when he knows you need space. He just nods and keeps his eyes on the road, his hand resting on the gearshift, close but not touching.

“We’re almost there,” he says after a beat, his voice gentle, steady—so different from the frantic beat of your heart.

You nod, staring out the window at the darkened streets passing by. It’s quiet this late at night, and the drive back to your place feels longer than it should. The weight of the past few days lingers like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of your mind, making it hard to breathe. 

You can still see Laura’s hand on her bump, the way her sad eyes looked at you like you were in the wrong. You can feel Simon’s arms around you, the way he pulled you in even when you should’ve pushed him away. The way you couldn’t help but let him.

But you’re not that person anymore. This is different. Joel’s different.

Your stomach churns, a wave of nausea rising so suddenly it feels like the world tilts. You grip your bandaged hand tighter, shift in your seat, trying to breathe through it, but the sensation intensifies. You can taste the bitterness of the meds in your mouth, the stress squeezing your chest like a vice as cold sweat starts spreading on your skin. The movement of the car only makes it worse, and you know what’s coming.

“Joel…” you manage, your voice strained, barely above a whisper. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Huh?” His head snaps toward you, eyes widening with concern as he sees how uncomfortable you are. “Shit. Hang on.”

Without hesitation, he tightens his grip on the steering wheel and scans the street for a place to pull over. It’s late, but the road is still lined with parked cars, neon signs glowing from nearby buildings. Finally, he spots a small gap along the curb. He turns on his blinker and slows down, smoothly guiding you toward the side of the street.

You fumble desperately with the seatbelt, your fingers trembling and uncoordinated as nausea hits you like a wave. Before you can manage it yourself, Joel leans over, his hands quick but gentle as he clicks the seat belt free. “Here,” he murmurs, and the moment the belt retracts, you’re already reaching for the door handle.

The second the door is open, you lurch out onto the sidewalk, the city air thick with petrichor from the short downpour that made you leave the beach earlier. The nausea hits hard, and you bend over, retching violently onto the pavement. It’s mostly bile, bitter and burning in your throat, and each wave of sickness feels like it’s tearing through your body. You grip the door for support, your hands shaking, your body trembling from the sheer force of it.

You hate this. The vulnerability, the pain, the utter helplessness of it all.

Joel moves quietly, reaching into the glove compartment for tissues. He doesn’t crowd you, just watches carefully, his expression tight with worry. He’s there, but giving you the space you need. After grabbing the tissues, he steps out of the car, making his way around to the back. You can hear him rummaging in the trunk, though your focus remains on trying not to accidentally cough up your lungs. 

“Goddamnit,” you choke out, your voice strained as another wave of nausea forces the last of the bile from your body. It burns, raw and painful, your whole frame trembling as you lean over. Joel is next to you, hovering, trying to be there, but keeping his distance. 

“I hate this,” you whine dramatically, your head pounding as you try catching your breath. 

Once you feel like the worst is over and your stomach is settling, you straighten up and look at Joel through watery eyes. He’s smiling at you sympathetically, taking a step closer to wipe your mouth and chin with a couple of tissues.

You’re about to tell him not to touch you, but the concentrated look on his face and the deft but gentle motion of his fingers put you in a trance. He’s cleaned your mouth and wiped away your tears before you could even say anything.  

“Do you remember how hot I looked in that short red dress?” you murmur, furrowing your brow at the unexpected pain coming from your sore throat. 

“Yeah, how could I not?” Joel chuckles as he opens and hands you the water bottle he had waiting for you in his back pocket.

“Good,” you nod before swishing a mouthful of water, and spitting it out onto the concrete away from you. You take another sip, letting it cool your throat before you cap the bottle and look into Joel’s eyes. “I want you to think of that really hard and forget everything you just saw, okay?”

He just smiles at you, touching your shoulder with his warm hand. “Sweetheart, you’re vastly underestimating my attraction to you. You think a little puke’s gonna deter me? If you weren’t in pain, I’d kiss you no problem.” The way his eyebrow automatically twitches makes you roll your eyes. But it also warms your heart. 

“You’re disgusting,” you say, trying your hardest not to smile. 

“Says the girl who wiped snot off my face and kissed me while I was sweaty and gross after rolling around in bed with a fever. Guess we’re both disgusting, then.” 

“Hm,” is all you manage to get out, a tiny smirk on your face, but it falters just as quickly as you suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up again. 

“No, no, no, please, no,” you murmur, terrified, clutching the open car door for dear life. Your body tenses up, desperate to avoid another wave of sickness. You can’t do this again.

“I’m right here,” Joel whispers softly, his hand coming to rest on your back. He begins rubbing slow, soothing circles, his touch gentle and steady. There's a hint of helplessness in his voice, as if he wishes he could do more, but knows this is all he can offer right now. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You focus on his hand, the warmth of it cutting through the cold sweat covering your skin. The nausea grips you, but Joel’s steady touch draws you back, grounding you. Your breath steadies, and when the sickness passes, you focus on the warmth of his hand, his touch comforting in a way you didn’t expect.

You’re usually not one for people being around, let alone touching you, when you’re vulnerable like this. The only time you’d allow anyone to get this close is during sex. But that’s different. Especially with Joel.

No one else gets to do the things he does with you. Not that you’ve ever admitted that to him.

He’s seen you at your most unguarded—tied up with your ankles behind your ears, covered in sweat, drooling, crying, bruised from his hands, begging for release, and confessing all the depraved things you’d let him do to you if he’d just finally let you come. He’s seen you laid bare, stripped down to nothing but raw desire and submission. And in those moments, there’s nothing but trust and desire between you two.

It’s freeing. Being able to let go of your body and mind so completely.

But this?

The idea of Joel witnessing you vomiting bile on the side of a dingy city street while your hand is bandaged, your face contorted, and your body shaking like you’ve been dragged through hell…

Not good. Especially after what happened.

You don’t know how to navigate this new territory with him, and the last thing you want is for him to see you weak like this. Not when you’re already feeling fragile.

You’re embarrassed, your cheeks burning from the humiliation of it all. You know this moment will haunt you on sleepless nights when your mind drags up every cringe-worthy memory. But right now, there’s an unexpected comfort in knowing he’s here.

“I think it’s over,” you say quietly, almost afraid to voice it, half-expecting your body to betray you again just because you dared to say it out loud. But it doesn’t. The nausea ebbs away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. It’s over.

“Okay,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just take your time. Don’t rush it.”

You inhale deeply, drawing in the cool night air. The city smells faintly of petrichor and there’s a soft hum from the distant traffic, cars rolling by on the nearby streets. It all feels surreal, like the world is far away from the small bubble you and Joel are in.

The steady circles he traces on your back continue, grounding you further. You let your eyes close for a moment, soaking in the calm of the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, not looking at him.

He shakes his head, his brow furrowed in worry. “You got nothing to be sorry for. Do you think you’re okay to go on now?”

You nod and swallow hard, the sting in your throat making you wince. You manage a weak, half-hearted smile, though the world still feels off-kilter. “Yeah, I think so. But if I start dry-heaving again, just do us both a favor and push me out of the moving car, okay?”

He smirks, his lips curling in that familiar, teasing way. “As if I could ever deny you something,” he says softly, his humor not quite hiding the concern in his eyes. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.”

He pauses, like he wants to say more, his mouth opening slightly as if searching for the right words, but he holds back. Instead, he just watches you carefully as you make your way back into the passenger seat, waiting until you’re settled before gently closing the door behind you.

You lean your head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded, the weight of everything pressing down on you like a heavy blanket as you continue your way home.

The words are there, inside you, loud, persistent, trying to break free; but you can’t. Where would you even start? What’s the point in revealing more of yourself? What good could come from it?

Nothing. That’s what.

Nothing.

You watch the city lights blur outside the window, your thoughts darker than the night. Your life feels like it’s crumbling, piece by piece, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to hold on. And once again, you know—deep down—it’s your own doing. It always is. No matter how many times you try to make things right, it always ends up the same way.

When Joel finally parks in front of your apartment building, the car idles quietly, and he takes a moment to gather his thoughts. You can feel him looking at you, trying to find the right words. You don’t move, your mind still preoccupied with your own self-doubt.

“We’re here,” Joel says, a soft smile on his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but you’re too far gone, too lost in your own spiral. When you don’t respond, his smile falters, but he presses on, determined to lift the weight between you.

“I was thinking…” he begins, his voice light. “I could cook for you tomorrow if you’re up for it? I remember I owe you a nice dinner, and no, it’s not just frozen pizza this time. It’s a frozen pizza with a side salad.”

He grins, hoping to coax a smile out of you, some kind of response. But you don’t laugh. You don’t even crack a smile.

Joel clears his throat and shifts slightly in his seat, his fingers drumming anxiously on the steering wheel. He’s trying to pull you out of whatever hole you’ve fallen into, but you can’t meet him halfway. You don’t have the strength.

He looks at you, his heart sinking as he takes in your sad, distant eyes. It’s like you’re not really here, like you’ve drifted somewhere far away, unreachable. How he wishes he could climb inside your mind and pull out whatever it is that’s weighing so heavily on you, take the burden for himself.

“Darlin’?” he repeats softly.

You blink, refocusing, but the smile you give him doesn’t reach your eyes. “Hm?”

“Can I cook for you tomorrow? You could come over to mine after work, or I can come here. Whatever you prefer.” There’s a hopeful smile on his face, a softness in his gaze, and the way he looks at you, almost like a puppy waiting for a treat, makes your stomach twist painfully.

You remember the dinner with Tommy and Maria, cursing yourself silently for agreeing to go. It’s not that you don’t love them—you do—but the thought of sitting through that dinner, of having that conversation with Tommy, feels like a nightmare.

“I can’t tomorrow.”

Joel’s smile falters the slightest bit, but he remains undeterred. “How about Saturday? I’ll plan something nice for us. Something I know you’ll love.”

Oh no.

You want to say it so badly it physically hurts.

You’ve been better, haven’t you? Over the past year or so. You’ve tried—really tried—to keep your cool, to express your feelings in a healthy way, or at least something close to it. You’ve worked hard to stop falling into that old mentality where uncomfortable emotions make you feel cornered and you end up lashing out. You’ve made progress. 

You’re not the same person you used to be. He’s not Simon. You don’t act like this anymore. You’ve outgrown this. Don’t do it. Don’t say–

“You’re free on a Saturday?” 

Joel blinks, the confusion clear on his face. “Yeah, like always when I’m not working,” he says, unsure where this is coming from.

“Oh,” you murmur. “Would’ve thought you already had plans with your, uh…with Jan.”

How subtle.

“I’m not planning on seeing her again,” Joel says simply.

You glance at him. “You should probably tell her that. Didn’t really seem like she knew when she was fondling you under the table.”

Joel exhales deeply and shifts slightly, turning his body toward you, trying to make sure you hear him. “I did tell her, and she does know,” he says firmly. His gaze softens as he looks at you, his voice gentler now. “Sweetheart…I’m not gonna pursue anything with her. And I wouldn’t have agreed to the date if I’d known it would hurt you.”

You shake your head, not wanting to let the conversation go where it’s headed, your thumb rubbing over your wrist brace. “Can we please not talk about this right now?” you murmur, your voice tight, barely holding it together. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. Thank you for driving me home, I’ll see you– “

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Joel interrupts, his voice firm. “We had a good time, but that’s it.”

You blink, furrowing your brow and tilting your head slightly as his words begin to sink in. He watches you, waiting for your response, but when it doesn’t come, he shifts again, trying to close the distance.

“Hey,” Joel says softly, reaching for your left hand, his fingers gently wrapping around yours. He rubs your skin with his thumb, more to soothe himself than you. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

He searches your face, waiting for a reaction, any reaction. But you just sit there, unmoved, your expression frozen in place. There’s no relief, no anger, no hint of anything. Just…nothing.

The silence stretches, and Joel’s heart sinks. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Maybe he thought you’d smile, maybe he even hoped you’d fall into his arms, that this would be the moment things would start to feel okay again. But you’re distant, your face unreadable.

His eyes scan yours, searching desperately for something to hold on to, and what he finds hits him like a punch to the gut.

“You don’t believe me.”

You meet his eyes for just a second longer, a sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips before you nervously look away and whisper, “Look, I’m, uh– I’m extremely tired right now and this close to crying, so I’m gonna go upstairs and call it a night, okay?”

But Joel doesn’t let go of your hand. His grip tightens, just a little, his voice strained. “You really don’t believe me. You think I’m lying to you.”

“I don’t– Can we please do this another time?”

“I’d love to, but I feel like it’s important that we–” 

“Joel.”

“–get this sorted out, so you don’t–”

“Joel, please.”

“–keep on thinking I’m a liar. I didn’t know you thought that ab–”

“Jesus Christ,” you snap, your voice trembling with frustration, “don’t you hear what I’m saying?” Without waiting for a response, you push open the car door and step out, the cool air hitting your skin. “I can’t fucking do this right now.”

The door slams shut behind you with a hard thud, cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.

Joel watches you for a moment, taken aback, then quickly follows, stepping out of the car. His eyes are full of concern, his brow furrowed as he watches you pace, but his voice is calm, steady, trying to reach you.

“Darlin’, I do hear you,” he says, taking a cautious step closer. “And I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it right now, I just…”

You spin around, exasperated. “You just what?”

“I just wanna know that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Joel,” you say, rubbing your temples. “Why in the world wouldn’t I be?”

He opens his mouth, trying to form a response, but before he can say anything, you cut him off, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.

“But it doesn’t even matter, okay? It doesn’t matter if I’m fine or not. I don’t have time to think about it.” Your voice cracks slightly, your throat constricting as you try to keep control. “Because now I gotta get to bed, so I can go to the office early tomorrow, ‘cause afterwards I’ll be sitting at a table with Tommy, who probably fucking hates me now. Do you have any idea how much that fucking sucks?”

Your voice lowers, the vulnerability creeping in despite your efforts to hold it back. “What if he…doesn’t want me in his life anymore?”

Joel shakes his head, vehemently. “Darlin’, that’s nonsense. He’s not mad at you. If anything, he’s mad at me. And I’m sorry for not asking you first, but you gotta understand that I was worried about you and thought this was the best solution.”

“Oh sure, yeah,” you scoff, bitterness lacing your words. “You know so much fucking better than I do. That’s it, right? Yeah, of course. Don’t you get how fucking weird this all is? It’s exactly what I was afraid of. You all talking about me behind my back, pitying me, judging me, and figuring out that you’re better off without me. That I’m not who you thought I was. That I’m not able to give you what you want.”

Joel hears the panic in your voice like he did yesterday, the way it’s rising, how your words are becoming more frantic. He gets the sense you’re not hearing him anymore, not really. You’re caught up in your own head, lost in the whirlwind of your fears. His mind flashes back to Tommy’s words. He can see it now, the way your frustration, your hurt is morphing into something darker, more overwhelming.

God, how he wishes he could just pull you into his arms right now. Hold you, protect you from the weight of everything that’s crushing you. But he knows, deep down, that he’s part of that weight. 

No matter how good his intentions might have been. 

“That’s not what happened at all,” Joel says, his voice calm, measured, even though his heart is racing. “We didn’t talk about you like that. I just needed Tommy to help me figure out where you might be, and I’m so glad he did. It was nice…sitting with you, holding your hand…”

You shake your head. “Good night, Joel.”

“Look, I– I know you’re going through something right now that makes you think I’m insincere,” he blurts out, “but I need you to know that I’m really just trying to help you.”

Your body stiffens, his words hitting a nerve. “I don’t need you to help me,” you snap. “I don’t wanna be your little damsel in distress, that’s not who I am.”

Joel flinches at the bite in your words, but he doesn’t back down. “I know that. And that’s not how I see you. I know you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself.” He pauses, his eyes searching yours, desperate for you to understand.

“But allowing help from the people who love us isn’t about being weak or incapable. You may not see it right now, but I’m on your side. And if anyone’s weak it’s me, ‘cause I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this.”

You sigh deeply and murmur, “I’m gonna go now,” your voice flat as you turn toward your apartment.

Joel steps forward cautiously, not wanting to push too hard, but he can’t just let you walk away without saying more. “I get it, it’s all too much. But please, just…don’t shut me out, okay? Call me if you need anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s the middle of the night. I’ll be here.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his promise, but you’re too drained to respond. All you can do is nod.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says softly, his voice full of regret. “I wish I could take some of this off you, make it easier somehow. But I’m not leaving, alright? Not now, not ever. ”

You nod again, your throat too tight to speak, and turn away, walking toward your apartment. Joel watches you go with his hands falling uselessly to his sides, his heart heavy, knowing there’s so much left unsaid, but hoping—praying—you’ll let him know when you’re ready.

Wow, well done.

Sitting on your sofa, you stare blankly at the black TV as the silence of your apartment settles around you, your mind already starting its cruel commentary.

That’s for sure going to make him think you’re a mentally stable person. No, seriously, why wouldn’t he want to be with you?

The thought twists inside you like a knife, but you can’t help it. The voice in your head is relentless, mocking your every move, dissecting your behavior from earlier.

You think you’re slick, don’t you? Pushing him away so you don’t have to face your feelings. Aren’t we way past that?

You sigh deeply as if that would quiet the storm inside you, but it doesn’t. Your self-reproach lingers, heavy and biting.

Still, you drag yourself to the kitchen, forcing yourself to eat a few bites of the leftover pasta sitting in your fridge. It’s tasteless, going down like sandpaper, but you know you need something in your stomach before you can take the painkillers. Your body aches, every muscle tensing under the weight of the unresolved strain still coiled within you.

You wash the food and the pills down with iced tea, grateful for the cold sweetness, because water turns your stomach right now. The pasta, the tea, they’re just fuel—a necessary evil before you can move on and hopefully find some peace in your sleep.

After you’ve eaten, you strip off your clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water rush over you. You stand there for a while, eyes closed, trying to wash away everything. Joel’s concerned face, the hurt, the frustration, the embarrassment of how you acted. You let the water pound against your skin, hoping it’ll somehow cleanse more than just the sweat and grime from the day.

When you finally step out, you feel a little more like yourself, a little more human. Still shaky, but better. 

By the time you crawl into bed, exhaustion drags you down like an anchor. You pull the blankets tight around you, hoping to find some comfort even though the dread of the day ahead lingers. Your phone is already in your hand, and you pull up Netflix, choosing something mindless to drown out the sound of your own thoughts. The chatter of the show hums in the background, but your mind barely registers it.

Your eyes grow heavier with each passing minute, and the warmth of your bed starts to pull you toward sleep. Everything starts to blur as the fatigue takes over.

But then, just as you’re about to drift off, your propped up phone vibrates loudly against the bedside lamp. The screen lights up, a small notification appearing at the top.

Joel Miller.

Your heart skips a beat, a strange mix of relief and anxiety rising in your chest. You blink away the sleep and swipe the notification open.

It’s a voice message, and the length—four minutes—makes your heart sink. You’re not sure you can handle whatever it is he has to say right now. It feels too heavy, too soon.

Your finger hovers over the play button, your mind running wild with possibilities.

What if something happened to him? What if he’s telling you he doesn’t want to see you anymore? What if you scared him off for good? Why else would the message be so long?

Before you can spiral further, another notification pops up.

Joel: Sleep well, baby 😘 

You blink, staring at his message, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. He’s being sweet. Maybe this isn’t what you’re bracing for.

You take a deep breath, your heart still beating a little too fast, and press play.

At first, there’s a small pause, like he’s gathering his thoughts. Then you hear his voice coming through the speaker, soft and gentle, the familiar rasp of it cutting through the quiet of your bedroom.

“Hi darlin’. It’s me, Joel…Miller…obviously.” 

Your smile widens. He’s such a dork.

“I know it’s late…and you’re probably already in bed. But I, uh…I wanted to say something. I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I didn’t want you to go to sleep without hearing this.”

He sounds like he always does, calm, collected, but he’s being careful with his words. You shift under the covers, feeling more awake now, your body attuned to every note in his voice.

“I know you’ve been going through a lot on your own, and I don’t wanna make it worse by pushing or prying where I shouldn’t. But I just want you to know…I’m here. I’m here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to handle it alone, okay?”

There’s a small pause, and you hear him exhale, like he’s letting go of something he’s been holding in for too long.

“I don’t know if I always say the right things, and God knows I’ve messed up plenty…but you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words right now. And I, uh, don’t expect you to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t even know if I do. But I wanna be there with you, figure it out together…if you’ll let me.”

Another deep breath.

“You’re never not on my mind, sweetheart, and I just…wish you could see yourself the way I see you. I felt it the first time I saw you, you know? You stood there, the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. And then you looked into my eyes. You looked into my eyes and that was it for me.”

Joel’s voice softens even more, almost like he’s afraid you’ll drift off before he’s finished. “I was thinking about Saturday, too. I got something in mind that I think’ll be good for both of us. Nothing big, just…I think you’ll like it.”

There’s a brief silence on the line as if he’s gathering himself, and then you hear it—the faint strum of a guitar. Your breath catches in your throat.

He’s playing for you.

His voice, low and gentle, hums the opening notes of a country tune you’ve never heard before. The sound drifts over you, warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a blanket of soft clouds and something that feels like home.

You close your eyes, letting the music take you, and as Joel begins to sing, his voice carries a depth of emotion that reaches deep inside you. The lyrics flow, full of a quiet tenderness, and you sink into the sound, letting it wash away your troubles:

“I’m just a lonesome traveler, Drifting down this road, But darlin’, when I’m near you, I know I’m not alone.”

You just listen, your heart swelling with the softness of it, with the fact that Joel is doing this for you. Never in a million years did you see this coming. 

The song continues, the melody sweet and simple, his voice lulling you further into a sense of calm. It feels like everything else fades away—the weight of your past, the uncertainty of the future—and all that’s left is this moment, this gentle connection between you and him.

As he reaches the end of the song, his voice drops to an almost-whisper:

“But darlin’, when I hold you, I know I’ve found my home.”

The final note lingers in the air of your bedroom, and for a moment, you just lie there, your heart full, your body completely relaxed. You can barely keep your eyes open now, the edges of sleep tugging at you.

Still, you gather all of your remaining energy to text him back. You need to.

You: I’ll bring snacks on Saturday

You: Ever thought about switching careers btw? Cowboy boots, a hat and you’d make a fortune. Groupies, fame, rich old ladies letting you run wild with their credit cards…

You’ve barely pressed send when Joel responds. 

Joel: Groupies, huh?

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Another buzz.

Joel: Nah, sweetheart. My music comes from the heart. It’s only for the people I love. Not for anyone else.

Thank you for reading! previous | Series Masterlist | AO3 | next

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[redroomreflections]

Guide Me

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Gentle Hands One Shot

Summary: Natasha is going away on a mission and she wants R to think of her while she's away.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI

note: I wrote this entirely for myself. There's fluff in here too.

w/c: 3.6k

Natasha sat quietly on the couch, her eyes drawn to the scene unfolding in front of her. You were kneeling in front of her, your arms stretched out, your eyes and face reflecting the huge smile you had as you encouraged Brynn to walk.

"Come on, Bubs, come to me," You said. "Come to Mommy."

Brynn was clinging tightly to Natasha's knees, her own tiny, chubby legs wobbling. She gave a little squeal of excitement, almost as if to say "I'm nervous", her determination both endearing and fierce.

"Go to your Mommy," Natasha coaxed, "you can do it, kotik."

Brynn seemed to be encouraged by Natasha's voice, patting her leg before reaching out a hand towards you. Your excitement was palpable, Natasha could feel it radiating off of you, and she was sure Brynn could sense it, too.

"Yeah, that's it, Brynnie," You continued. "I'm right here. I'll catch you."

And then Brynn took her first, tiny, tentative step, the biggest smile on her face.

"Nat," You whispered, looking up at her. "She's walking."

Natasha laughed, her heart filling with happiness, the moment seemingly frozen in time. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, as Brynn navigated the cool hardwood floors. You were only a few feet away from her.

And then Brynn wobbled and fell forward into your arms. There was a moment of quiet cheering as you hugged her to you.

"Good job, baby," You praised. "Kaia, guess what? Your sister just walked to me." You informed your almost three-year-old of her baby sister's milestone.

Kaia giggled, clapping her hands together in delight. "Yay, Brynnie."

Natasha chuckled. Kaia was so like you in many ways. Almost a mini clone. Even down to the dance you two performed in celebration of Brynn's first steps. The baby giggled loudly as you twirled her, blowing raspberries on whatever body part of hers you could reach, as you danced around the living room.

"My turn," Natasha said. "I want to dance with my baby." She stood, holding out her arms in anticipation.

You carefully passed Brynn over, who clung to Natasha.

"Mama," She said.

"Hi, my love." Natasha smiled widely. "I'm so proud of you."

Brynn grinned, reaching for Natasha's hair, and tugging on it gently.

"Ouch, kotik, " Natasha laughed. "That hurts."

Brynn looked concerned, pulling back to look at Natasha.

"No, no, it's okay, sweetheart." Natasha smiled softly, bouncing the baby on her hip. "Just a little tug. But never mind that, you walked." She leaned in, giving Brynn a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek.

Brynn giggled, squirming in Natasha's arms, before laying her head on her shoulder.

"I think she's tired," You said as you scooped Kaia into your arms to twirl her around. "It is almost bedtime." Natasha's heart warmed at the sight. She couldn't believe you were the woman she had once only wanted to protect—a woman who had been through so much, who had needed space to heal. Back then, Natasha hadn't imagined your friendship could turn into anything more. She hadn't let herself imagine it. Sure, she'd found you beautiful—who wouldn't? There had always been a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, even on the days when your world felt like it was crumbling around you.

But this? A life with you, with Brynn and Kaia? That had seemed like a dream she didn’t know she was allowed to have. And now, Natasha had it. She had all of you.

"You should get them ready for bed, Nat," You said, as Kaia wrapped her arms around your neck, clinging like she always did when bedtime rolled around.

"But, Mama, I want to play with Brynn," Kaia whined, her voice laced with the beginnings of a pout.

"I'm sorry, Solnyshko, but you need to sleep. Come on, kiss Mama goodnight," Natasha said, and Kaia sighed but pressed a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek. "We'll play tomorrow. You have school, remember?"

"I hate school," Kaia grumbled.

"No, you don't," Natasha chuckled.

"Do so."

"Kaia," You warned, and Kaia stuck out her bottom lip.

"Fine," she grumbled, though there was a softness in her voice now. "But you have to promise two songs before bed." Her eyes gleamed as she stared over at Natasha, knowing exactly how to tug at her heartstrings.

Natasha feigned reluctance, though the smile on her face betrayed her. She held out her pinkie finger to Kaia. "I promise," she said, locking their pinkies together with a gentle squeeze.

"And you have to sing them, not play the music."

"Kaia," You sighed.

"Okay, fine." Natasha laughed.

"You're the best, Mama," Kaia cheered, stretching in your arms to kiss Natasha's cheek and then leaning over to give Brynn one, too.

"How sweet," You murmured, watching them with a smile. Kaia’s pout disappeared instantly, replaced with a satisfied grin as she slipped out of your arms and shuffled toward the bedroom. "I'll catch up on dishes while you handle these two." You offered.

"You've done enough already," Natasha insisted. "I can wash the dishes."

"It's alright, I'll get them," You replied, brushing off her protest. "Besides, I want us to have tonight together before bed."

"I'll put Brynn to bed, and then I'll meet you in the bedroom," Natasha decided, and you nodded, making your way into the kitchen. Natasha watched you go, unable to help the smile that came to her lips. God, she loved you.

By the time Natasha stepped out of Brynn’s nursery, the house was quiet—save for the soft clinking of dishes being washed in the kitchen. She had promised herself she would come to bed after putting the kids down, but when she saw you moving around the house, still tidying up, she paused in the hallway. You had already done so much—cleaning up the toys in the living room, starting another load of laundry, and now finishing up the dishes that she had insisted on taking care of herself.

Natasha leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment. There was something peaceful about the way you moved, even in the mundane tasks. She loved how you always wanted to keep the home you had together running smoothly, even when you were tired. But it also made her heart ache a little. You did so much, often more than you needed to, always giving, always caring.

Quietly, Natasha made her way over to you, her footsteps soft on the kitchen floor. You didn’t hear her at first, too focused on rinsing the last of the plates, but the warmth of her presence behind you made you pause.

"You’ve done enough for tonight," Natasha murmured, slipping her arms around your waist from behind and resting her chin on your shoulder. "I thought we agreed we'd have time together."

"I was just cleaning up." You shrugged, letting the water from the faucet run over your hands for a moment. "You were busy with the kids. It's fine."

"It's not fine," Natasha said gently. "You do so much, and I appreciate everything, but I want you to relax."

"I'm used to taking care of things, Nat."

"I know," Natasha replied. "And I love that you are."

"I don't mind," You said, turning off the water and leaning back against her.

"But I do," Natasha replied. "Let me take care of you for once."

"Natasha," You sighed, but Natasha was already tugging you away from the sink. You turned into her arms, closing your eyes in pure delight when she kissed your lips. Her kiss was soft and slow, making your heart race. When you pulled away, your smile was wide, your cheeks a bit flushed, and Natasha thought you looked absolutely beautiful.

"I love you," She whispered, pulling you closer and brushing her nose against yours. "You mean so much to me. I wish I could show you how much."

"You do, Nat. More than you know." You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her again, a little harder this time, your teeth grazing her bottom lip. "Though I do love how affectionate you're being, why do I get the sense you're about to tell me bad news?"

"I don't think it's bad, necessarily." Natasha shrugged even as her hands continued to roam your waist. Lovingly, of course, no ulterior motives there. "It's just, I got an assignment."

"Oh," You said, your expression falling.

"I leave in two days," She explained.

"How long will you be gone?"

"Three weeks."

"And you won't tell me where?" You guessed.

"I can't," Natasha said. "It's a matter of national security."

"I understand." You nodded.

"But," Natasha added, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. "When I get back, I'm not leaving the country for a long time."

"Is that a promise?" You teased, even though your chest was heavy with worry.

"That's a promise," Natasha replied, leaning in to kiss you again.

"How are you going to break it to the girls?" You asked. "You know Kaia has hard drop-offs at school whenever you leave."

"I have some ideas," Natasha said, "I'll have Wanda and Pepper take turns visiting. They can keep Kaia and Brynn distracted."

"Okay," You replied.

"Hey," Natasha whispered, her eyes searching yours with that intensity she always had when she needed you to feel her presence, her sincerity. Her thumb gently stroked your cheek as she leaned in closer. "I know it's hard. Believe me, I hate leaving you and the girls. But I'll come back. Always."

You swallowed, your heart feeling heavier despite her soft reassurances. It wasn’t just about her leaving for the mission—it was the way Kaia would cry at drop-offs, the way Brynn would ask for “Mama” with big, confused eyes, not understanding why Natasha wasn’t there. And as much as you tried to be strong for them, there was always a part of you that felt empty when she was gone.

"I know you will," you whispered, forcing a small smile. "It's just... three weeks is a long time."

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, before her lips brush your temple. "I’ll make it up to you," she murmured, her voice low, comforting. "To all of you. When I get back, it’s just us. I’ll take a break—no missions, no assignments. We'll do whatever you want. I’ll even take Kaia to her soccer shots classes every week."

You laughed softly at the last part, shaking your head. "She loves those."

"I know," Natasha smirked. "But she's getting a little better at kicking the ball, and I'd like to see it."

You could hear the truth in her voice, feel it in the way she held you like she never wanted to let go. But the reality of her job was always there, lurking in the background, pulling her away when you needed her most. Still, you nodded, trying to push the worry aside, even if only for tonight.

"Okay," you said softly, resting your head against her chest, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. "But you’re the one telling Kaia in the morning. I’m not dealing with that meltdown alone."

Natasha chuckled, holding you tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Deal."

You held her tightly, breathing her in, committing this moment to memory, knowing that no matter how much she assured you that she'd be back, there would always be a part of you that was worried she wouldn't.

"I'm going to miss you," Natasha began, her voice soft and laced with sincerity. She kissed your lips again. An apology.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of her being away. "More than you know."

"I'll call every day," she promised, her hands tracking your back under your shirt. "Or as much as I can."

"I'd like that," you replied, kissing her once more.

"It'll go by fast," Natasha said. "Before you know it, I'll be back home with you, and we'll finally have a few weeks to ourselves."

"It's hard for me when you leave," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Your side of the bed gets cold. I don't have anyone there to hold me. To kiss me." You're laying it on thick. "It's hard not having someone there to—"

"Stop it," Natasha said, and you smirked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

"Stop what?" You asked, playing innocent.

"You're not being very subtle. If you're trying to make me change my mind about leaving, it won't work. But the other part..." Natasha grinned. "You have ways to care for yourself while I'm gone."

"I know," you said, your tone softening, a smile creeping onto your lips. "but..."

"But what?" Natasha inquired. "Hmm?"

"I've never actually done that,"

"Wait. Really? You've never touched yourself before?"

You shook your head. "Never needed to."

"So you're telling me you're a virgin in that department." Natasha smiled. "This is news to me."

"Nat, don't tease." You pushed her away gently.

"Come here." Natasha pulled you back in. "I'll show you what to do," She promised. "I'll make sure you feel good. Better than good. Amazing. The best orgasm of your life."

"You make big promises," You raised a brow.

"You've had better?" She scoffed.

"No," You shook your head. "I've just never felt the need or the desire to do it."

"So you have no idea what to do?" Natasha questioned, and you nodded, a little shyly. "What is it, baby?" She asked, tipping your chin up gently, so you were looking into her eyes. "Don't be shy."

"I just—I've always been a little repressed with sex," You explained, avoiding her gaze. "I mean we've talked about it before. I'm a woman with two kids. I'm no virgin Mary. There's still so much I haven't explored and I can't help but think how inexperienced I am."

"Hey, look at me," Natasha said softly, cupping your cheek. "There's no rush to explore everything at once, but I'll be more than happy to guide you. In fact, I'm honored."

"You're sweet," You whispered, and Natasha smiled.

"Come on," She said, pulling you towards the bedroom. She closed the door behind th both of you and got to work setting up pillows and a small area in front of the six-foot mirror you'd insisted on having in here.

"Now, I'm not saying it's going to happen right away," Natasha began, pulling you into her arms and peppering kisses on your neck. "But if you'd like me to teach you the ropes, I'd be more than happy to."

"I'd say yes to anything you offer," You whispered to her as you sat in front of her. She instructed you to take your pants off while she did the busy work of unbuttoning your blouse.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked and you nodded, pulling her closer, craving her body heat and the comfort her touch offered.

"Tell me if you want to stop," Natasha began. She gently coaxed your legs open, admiring the wet spot already forming, as she leaned her head against yours. "You don't know how sexy you are like this."

"In a nursing bra and Wednesday panties even though it's Friday?" You joked.

"Especially in that," Natasha murmured. "You always look so good to me, baby." Natasha kissed your neck.

"Touch me," You whispered.

"We're getting there, beautiful," She promised, her hand sliding up and down your thigh. You sighed, closing your eyes. You knew Natasha would make you feel good, and would make this experience pleasurable and enjoyable. "But tonight you're doing all the work. Just follow my voice." She instructed as she trailed her hands along your body.

"Take off your panties," Natasha whispered, and you obeyed. Your hand hovered over the waistband of your panties, hesitating. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," You admitted, taking a deep breath.

"You're gorgeous, Y/n."

"You make me feel that way."

"Good. Because it's true." She replied, pulling her hands away. "Take your time."

You slowly slid the underwear down your legs, biting your lip nervously.

"I'll start, and then you can take over," Natasha said.

"What are you going to do?" You asked.

"You'll see." She replied. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," You said, nodding, feeling a rush of anticipation run through your body.

She began by stroking your belly, moving to cup your breasts and toy with your nipples.

"Do you like that?"

"Yeah," You nodded.

"How about this?" She murmured, her hands running over your hips. You moaned, arching into her touch.

"Mhmm," You cursed, feeling yourself get wetter.

"What else would you like me to do?"

"Just talk to me, please."

"Talk to you about what, baby?" She whispered, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," You whimpered.

"I can do that."

Natasha's hands trailed along your inner thighs, her fingertips teasing your folds."I want you to use your fingers, just one," She began. "Feel around for that spot that feels good."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling shy.

"It's okay," Natasha whispered. "I'm right here. Do whatever feels good, baby."

You slid your fingers down between your legs, tentatively over your slit, before you pressed it between your lips. You were familiar with your own anatomy enough to find your clit. Your eyes widened slightly at the pleasure, the intensity, as you rubbed it gently.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes at the immediate pleasure, as you leaned your head back against her shoulder. Having her there as a source of support felt even better.

"Open your eyes, baby," Natasha instructed. "Look in the mirror."

You obeyed, your eyes meeting her's in the reflection.

"That's it, Y/n," Natasha murmured. "See how beautiful you look like this? With your legs spread open for me, your pussy soaking wet and waiting for me. You're perfect, Y/n."

"I want to go inside," You whispered. "Can I?"

"Of course," Natasha whispered. "Put one finger in."

You slowly eased a finger into yourself, whimpering at the sensation.

"How does it feel?"

"Good," You gasped. "But I don't know if it's enough."

"Try adding another," She instructed, and you obliged.

"Ah, fuck," You moaned, arching up into your hand.

"That's it, baby. Feel yourself, feel what you do to yourself," She whispered, her hands still stroking your inner thighs.

"Feels so good," You panted. Natasha used her hand to slow you down.

"Not yet," She kissed the side of your head. "I want you to enjoy this. I want you to think about me. How good I make you feel. Imagine your fingers are mine. Fucking you."

You groaned, the pleasure overwhelming, as you moved slower, taking your fingers in and out.

"Natasha," You whispered.

"Shh," She kissed the side of your head.

"I'm close," You whined.

"I know," She smiled. "But you have to wait."

"But why," You whimpered.

"Because it's better when I say so," She explained. She raised her hand, gently rubbing your breasts, careful not to be too rough. Though you do think about how much you would like it. "You're such a good girl for me."

"Nat," You whined, thrusting faster, as she held you closer.

"You're close, baby," She whispered, her fingers finding your nipples, gently tugging them.

"Please, Natasha, I'm so close."

"Tell me what you want," She demanded.

"Bite me," You tilted your neck for easier access. "Mark me. Please."

Natasha growled as she sunk her teeth into your neck, the pain and pleasure mingling together and making you moan. She sucked on the mark she had made, her hands roaming your body. You could feel your pussy clench around your fingertips.

"Fuck," You cried, your back arching.

"Cum, baby. Come for me," She commanded, and you obeyed, moaning loudly, as your orgasm crashed through your body, your muscles contracting.

"That's it," She soothed, holding you tightly, her hands caressing your sides. "Such a good girl for me."

You collapsed back into her embrace, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin.

"I don't know how you do that to me." You panted, your voice low and sated.

"Because I love you." She replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"I love you too," You sighed, leaning back into her arms, as she stroked your hair. "Thank you."

"Of course, baby," She whispered, smiling at the sleepy expression on your face. "I want you to feel good when I'm not home. I want you to make yourself feel good."

"Thank you," You mumbled.

"You haven't taken your fingers out," Natasha pointed out.

"I haven't," You nodded.

"Is it good?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready to go again?"

"Not right now," You shook your head, closing your eyes. "I like being filled."

"Alright," Natasha chuckled.

"Can we just cuddle?"

"We can do whatever you want," Natasha replied. "Though we need to talk about the comment you just made."

"About being filled?" You questioned.

"Yeah," Natasha replied.

"Well, I like the feeling. And I'd like to feel more."

"Oh really," Natasha smirked. "How much more?"

"However much more you're willing to give." You kissed the part of her chin you could reach. "I do not doubt that if possible, I'd be pregnant by now."

"I'd love that," Natasha murmured. "Filling you with my cum and watching it leak out of you. Stretching you."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" You smiled.

"Very much so," Natasha kissed the top of your head.

"Would you want to be on top or should I?" You asked, opening your eyes.

"You can." Natasha offered.

"But I don't know what I'm doing," You protested.

"Trust me. I'll walk you through it."

"You always do," You sighed. "I'm so glad I met you. The way you love me."

"Me too, baby," Natasha said. "You make me so happy."

"And you make me happy."

[seongwars]

forget me not | iv

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 7.5K (my bad) Warnings: infidelity, use of the k word

Fic Masterlist

a/n: my stitches reopened and I had to go back and get restitched 😬 so I spent all day in bed editing this chapter. i love reading everyone's theories and feedback is always welcome!

The first time Haewon saw Yunho, it was at your dorm during a study session. You were both surrounded by books, notes, and various pieces of stationary scattered across the floor. While you were focusing on writing out your note cards, Haewon was dancing around the room in an attempt to “activate her brain cells”. 

She had been caught up in her own world until the sound of a knock interrupted her antics. You stood up to answer the door, and a low voice followed, mingled with a chuckle—deep, familiar, and warm.

Yunho.

He was your best friend, someone she’d heard about but hadn’t paid much attention to. But that day, something was different. He sat with a pile of books and a look of quiet concentration that intrigued her. His presence was magnetic, though subtle, and without realizing it, Haewon found herself sneaking glances at him, captivated by the calm determination in his demeanor.

She wasn’t sure when it happened exactly, but at some point, between stolen glances and shared laughter over late-night group study sessions, she started to fall for him. Yunho was kind, always the first to offer a helping hand, and his dedication to his friends and family was unwavering. He had a way of making everyone feel valued and heard.

And when he asked her to be his girlfriend, she was over the moon. 

"Did you know Yunho was going to ask me out?" she beamed, her voice laced with an excitement that made your heart sink.

You froze for a second, your pencil hovering above the page. There was a flicker of something—disappointment, maybe even hurt—but you quickly swallowed it down. 

"Maybe," you muttered, your voice light, almost teasing, though it took everything in you to keep it that way. Haewon didn’t see the way your grip tightened on the pencil, or how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"I can’t believe it," she gushed, oblivious to the turmoil behind your composed expression. "I mean, I’ve liked him for a while now, and I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, but when he asked me…God, it was perfect."

"That’s great, Haewon" you said, your voice quieter than before, trying desperately to sound convincing. 

You fell in love with the way Yunho truly saw you, even when you tried to hide parts of yourself. He understood you in ways no one else ever had, knowing your fears, your dreams, and all the things that made you tick. Somewhere along the line, you stopped worrying about what he would think of you because with Yunho, you never had to pretend.

That’s when you knew you loved him—because the idea of life without him didn’t feel like life at all.

But how could you tell him? You weren’t like Haewon—bold and unafraid, able to voice her feelings as if vulnerability wasn’t terrifying. She was all confidence and ease, speaking her mind without a second thought, while you were cautious, overthinking, content to blend into the background.

Telling Yunho how you felt would mean stepping into the unknown. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him if things went wrong. So you stayed silent, burying your feelings deep, hoping that somehow, you could protect what you had by keeping your secret. 

But things went wrong anyway.

You tried not to not let their relationship affect you, told yourself you were happy for them. Haewon and Yunho were two of the most important people in your life, and they deserved happiness. You repeated that to yourself like a mantra, hoping that if you said it enough, you might actually believe it. 

It hurt seeing them together, knowing that while you were happy for them, you couldn’t help the ache in your chest every time Yunho laughed a little too easily at something she said, or when she rested her head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry. How could you? Haewon hadn’t done anything wrong; she hadn’t stolen Yunho from you, and Yunho hadn’t abandoned you. It was like watching sand slip through your fingers—nothing to hold on to, nothing you could do to stop it.

Yunho was happy, and you cared about him enough to want that for him, even if it wasn’t with you.

After you disappeared, everything fell apart in ways neither of them expected. Yunho and Haewon participated in search parties, posted on social media about your disappearance, and cooperated with law enforcement. But there were no answers, no trace of where you’d gone or why. The emptiness you left behind was palpable, a gaping hole in both their lives.

At first, Haewon believed they were grieving together. She felt the weight of your absence in every corner of her life, and Yunho, in his quiet way, did too. But then, she began to notice the way their relationship shifted. 

It was subtle at first: a slight distance in Yunho’s eyes, the way he seemed preoccupied even when they were alone. He would zone out in the middle of conversations, and even when he held Haewon in his arms, his heart wasn’t fully there. 

Slowly, painfully, she realized the truth. Yunho wasn’t just mourning you—he was waiting for you. He was still tethered to you, pulled by an invisible force that Haewon couldn’t compete with.

She never considered herself a mean girl. Sure, she had grown up in a comfortable world, surrounded by friends who were a little more tightly wounded and concerned with appearances. But now, standing on the other side of it, Haewon could see the truth for what it was. Yunho was never really hers to begin with. She hadn’t stolen him—not intentionally—but she had taken something that was never really hers to claim. 

Then there was Sungjae. 

Sungjae had never been a close friend, not really. He was more of a background figure—someone on the outskirts of Haewon’s social circle who, little by little, had weaseled his way in. He was everything Yunho wasn’t: impulsive, flirtatious, unpredictable. And it was those very qualities that ignited something in her.

The affair began quietly, like a secret Haewon wasn’t ready to admit even to herself. It started innocently enough—casual conversations, coffee outings after shared classes. They’d stay up late in the library, long after everyone else had left, talking about things that felt too personal, too vulnerable to share with anyone else. Haewon convinced herself it was nothing more than a close friendship—after all, she had a large circle of friends. What harm could one more friend do?

As time passed, the line between friendship and something more blurred. In the quiet moments following your disappearance, Haewon found herself relying on Sungjae in ways she hadn’t with Yunho in years. He became her anchor when the world felt uncertain, someone who made her feel alive and seen.

At first, it was easy to justify: she and Yunho had been drifting apart. Haewon had noticed it in the way their conversations had become shorter, less meaningful; the way they sat together in silence more often than not, the air between them filled with unspoken tension. 

But there was also something darker about Sungjae—something tied to the past Haewon desperately tried to forget. The night you disappeared, Sungjae had humiliated you, his cruel words cutting through the air as everyone watched in uncomfortable silence. And Haewon had stood by, doing nothing. She had stayed silent, too afraid to confront him, too indifferent to speak up.

Yunho had done nothing, either. His usual kind, gentle demeanor had turned into passive inaction, making excuses whenever Haewon brought up the topic like "It's just a phase" or "They’ll work it out."

“Do you think Sungjae had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” Haewon suddenly blurted out as the two were cooking dinner. 

Yunho froze, his jaw tightening. He knew the answer—he had always known. The last time anyone had seen you was when you stormed out of the apartment, cheeks flushed with shame and frustration. And yet, Yunho couldn’t admit it out loud. Admitting that Sungjae was responsible meant confronting his own failure, his own role in pushing you away.

“If he did,” Yunho said, his voice low, a dangerous edge creeping in, “I’ll kill him myself.”

“But you were the last one who saw her.”

His entire body tensed, the weight of Haewon’s accusation hitting him harder than he expected. He turned to face her fully, eyes dark and cold.

“You think I had something to do with Y/N’s disappearance?” His voice was low, hurt and anger threading through each word. He could feel the bile rising in his chest, burning with the injustice of her suspicion.

“That’s not what I said—”

“But it’s what you meant.” Yunho cut her off. “You think I’m the reason she’s gone?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” she murmured, her voice softer now, though the accusation still lingered between them. 

“All I did was walk her out, and the CCTV proved that! You have no idea how much Y/N’s disappearance is affecting me! But to even suggest that I could’ve done something…” His voice trailed off, swallowed by a surge of emotion.

“I can’t do this,” Yunho muttered, his voice barely audible now as he turned away from her. Grabbing his jacket off the chair, he headed for the door, his movements tense and deliberate. “I’m done with this conversation.”

His footsteps faltered just before reaching the door, the frustration inside him boiling over. He spun back to face Haewon, his voice sharp and biting.

“Every time it comes to Sungjae, you choose him. Why?”

“I–” Haewon’s voice cracked, but Yunho didn’t stop. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

Haewon knew it wasn’t fair to keep dragging him along when her heart was no longer fully his. But the thought of actually leaving—the finality of it—terrified her. The knowledge that once she walked away, there would be no going back was something she wasn’t sure she could handle.

And then Yunho proposed. 

It caught her completely off guard—a moment she hadn’t prepared for despite all her doubts and uncertainty. She hadn’t expected him to propose, not now. But instead of facing the truth, instead of admitting that her heart had drifted away and she was entangled in an affair with someone else, Haewon did the only thing she could think of: she convinced herself that accepting Yunho’s proposal would fix everything.

Haewon felt trapped. She felt the walls closing in, suffocating her as she tried to play the part of the happy fiancée. On the night of the engagement party, everyone around them was celebrating, toasting to their future, but all she could think about was how wrong it all felt. Her heart wasn’t in it—not fully—and she knew it.

The alcohol didn’t help. Glass after glass, Haewon drank to drown out the noise in her head, to silence the guilt and doubt. She wanted to forget, to numb herself to everything, but instead, it only made her feel more exposed.

She avoided Yunho most of the night, choosing instead to party with her friends, laughing too loudly, her smile brittle around the edges. Yunho tried to get her to slow down, to pull her back to him, to hold her close, but every time he did, it felt like the air was being sucked out of her lungs. It wasn’t his fault, but being near him only made the weight of her choices heavier.

Finally, something inside her snapped. Right there, in front of everyone. The frustration, the guilt, the suffocating pressure of pretending—it all came to the surface. She knew it was unfair, that Yunho didn’t deserve it, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. 

Now, as she laid in bed next to Sungjae, the weight of her betrayal closed in on her. The wedding was fast approaching, a date circled on the calendar like a death sentence, and there was no backing out now. The dress had been chosen, the invitations sent. Everyone was expecting a celebration, but all Haewon could feel was dread. 

Yunho had betrayed you too, hadn’t he? He had stood on the sidelines, just as complicit, watching as Sungjae’s cruelty unraveled you. And yet, he had stayed—stayed with her, proposed to her, tried to build a future with her. It was laughable. 

The two of them, pretending like they could escape what they’d done, like they could forge something real out of ashes. But the truth had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. 

They were no better than the man lying next to her now.

Perhaps this was what she and Yunho both deserved—two people who had betrayed you, condemned to a life of misery together.

Life in the Emporium was nothing short of magical surprises.

Each day began with a quiet ritual, a moment of calm before the shop's unique energy fully awoke. The first thing you’d do each morning was reach for the incense—carefully selected for its cleansing properties—and light it. As the fragrant smoke curled into the air, it seemed to reset the entire space, gently sweeping away the lingering energies left behind by the previous day’s visitors.

Above, the flowers in the hanging garden stirred with the first touch of morning light, their vibrant petals responding as if in greeting. You watered them with a flick of the wrist, though it felt more like a gesture of care than necessity—they thrived on the shop's magic more than on water.

The shop had its own rhythm, a delicate balance between the mundane and the mystical. Travelers, clients, and even the occasional spirit wandered in, drawn by the promise of wishes granted—some simple, others far more complicated. You had seen all kinds: the weary traveler who just wanted safe passage home, the desperate lover seeking a second chance, or the ambitious merchant hoping to change their fortune.

But nothing in the emporium was granted without a cost, and the price wasn’t paid in gold or silver. Every transaction required something far more precious—a wish. Not the kind made on a whim, but a deeply held desire, pulled from the very core of one’s soul.

You would watch as they approached the counter, hands trembling ever so slightly as they revealed their request. Their eyes flickered with doubt as the weight of the exchange settled upon them. Standing before you, they were caught between what they needed and what they were about to give up, realizing that their wish, once surrendered, would be gone forever.

You always asked if they were certain. If they understood the nature of their sacrifice. But the emporium never rejected a payment once it was offered. 

You had become accustomed to the shop’s quirks, trusting its ancient magic to maintain a balance that you could only partly comprehend. It was more than a shop; it was a living entity, guiding not only the customers but you, its keeper, shaping the course of both your lives in subtle, unseen ways.

Everything functioned smoothly, like clockwork—until the day Yunho arrived.

From the moment Yunho stepped into the emporium, his presence unsettled you. There was a calm assurance in the way he carried himself, grounding everything around you. Despite never having met him before, something inside you insisted Yunho wasn’t a stranger. 

You recalled the strange memories that had flooded your senses—the wind whipping around you as you sat in a car with Yunho, the sun illuminating the way the corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. It felt so real, as if you’d lived that moment before, but then it dissolved into something deeper, something raw. 

The emotions had gripped you before you could react, dragging you under like a riptide. Your knees buckled, and the world tilted, leaving you gasping for air. Yunho was there, of course. Even through the thick haze of your feelings, he kept you steady, his arms the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

Even now, the echoes of that moment lingered in your body. You could still feel the weight of the emotions that had passed through you, as if the magic had left an imprint on your soul. 

“Fate has already tied their threads together.”

Your mind raced, trying to grasp Hongjoong and Wooyoung’s conversation. 

What did that mean? What threads? Could the connection you felt—this strange, undeniable pull—be part of some cosmic plan, one that had existed long before you even stepped foot in the emporium?

But how could you accept something so profound when you couldn’t even remember him? The thought haunted you, and yet, deep down, the pull toward Yunho only grew stronger, as if Fate itself refused to let you walk away.

You sighed, taking a long drag from your pipe, leaning back as you watched a few late summer blooms drift down from the skylight’s hanging garden. Their petals fluttered like tiny omens in the gentle breeze. Fall had arrived, and with the change in seasons, the line between the living and the departed would thin, bringing even more travelers and clients from different realms. 

The bell above the door jingled faintly, drawing your attention. You glanced over, catching the sleek, shadowy form slipping through the crack in the door—a flash of fur before it darted out into the evening. You immediately knew who it was.

“Wooyoung,” you called out. The cat froze mid-step, his tail twitching with surprise. Slowly, he turned his head, his onyx eyes gleaming mischievously in the dim light.

“Don’t even try it,” you added, placing your hands on your hips. He blinked at you, feigning innocence, but you weren’t about to let him slink away without answers this time.

The cat stretched lazily, as if he hadn’t just been caught trying to sneak out, then padded toward you with that familiar, too-casual saunter. By the time he reached you, he shifted back into his human form with a dramatic sigh, ruffling his messy hair as if you’d truly inconvenienced him.

“I was just stepping out,” Wooyoung said, giving you that infuriating smirk of his. “Needed some air. It’s stuffy in here with all this—" He waved his hand around vaguely, “—magic.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. “You are magic, Wooyoung.” Your tone was teasing, playful. “Haven’t you had enough of the outside world and tormenting humans for one lifetime?”

“I’m a cat. Gotta see what the world’s up to,” he shrugged. 

There was a beat of silence, and you took a breath before speaking. “I heard your conversation with Hongjoong last night.”

Wooyoung froze for the briefest moment, his eyes widening just slightly before he masked it with another lazy grin. The shift in his demeanor was quick, but you’d known him long enough to recognize the flicker of panic he tried to bury. 

"It’s not polite to eavesdrop," he teased, his voice light but edged with a subtle wariness.

You weren’t about to let him wiggle his way out of this one. You had seen the way he was squirming, avoiding the real issue, and this time you needed answers. 

"What does fate have to do with me and Yunho?"

His smile faltered, a crack in his usual carefree facade. Wooyoung shifted uneasily, searching for the right words to soften the blow, but knowing there was no easy way out. He could feel your frustration mounting, the tension stretching unbearably thin.

"It’s... well, it’s like this," His voice lowered, and for once, he sounded serious. "Hongjoong thinks you and Yunho are bound together in ways that we don’t fully understand. It’s something that’s deeper and older…something that humans refer to as soulmates."

Soulmates.

It sounded ridiculous, unbelievable. You and Yunho, tied together by fate? He was just a traveler, someone the shop had revealed itself to. There was nothing special about him. 

"How?" you scoffed, shaking your head as if the mere action would dispel the ridiculous notion. "He’s a stranger, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. He shifted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at you. 

"Well… the thing is you have met him before.” But the thing is... you don’t remember. Because you can’t, Wooyoung wanted to say. 

"What are you talking about? Then why can’t I remember him? What did I forget?"

Your chest tightened. The frustration, the confusion, the pull you’d felt around Yunho ever since he first entered the shop—it all started to transform into something deeper, something more unsettling. It was as if a fog was lifting, revealing shadows of memories you couldn’t quite grasp.

He let out a long breath, rubbing his face. "It’s complicated. There are things...about you, that you don’t remember. That you chose not to remember."

Your mind raced. Memories? With Yunho? The man you barely knew, who had walked into your life like any other traveler? It didn’t make sense. None of this did.

"If I erased him from my life, then maybe I had a reason," you snapped, the words tasting bitter. Wooyoung winced but didn’t argue. 

"Fate doesn’t just disappear because you forget. He’s still tied to you, even if you can’t feel it." He paused, his eyes searching your face, hoping for some sign of understanding. "Maybe it’s why the shop revealed itself to him. It’s fate, pulling you back together."

You could feel the ground slipping from beneath you, your grip on reality loosening with every word he spoke. What Wooyoung was suggesting—soulmates, forgotten love, fate—it sounded like something out of a dream, a fantasy too far removed from the life you knew. 

"Why does it matter if I’m connected to him or not?" you continued, your throat tightening as the question lodged itself there, too painful to speak.

The air grew heavy, thick with tension, as if the walls themselves were reacting to the storm brewing inside you. The shelves rattled, and the shop’s energy pulsed erratically, reflecting the confusion and fear you could no longer keep at bay. The lanterns flickered wildly, casting frantic shadows that danced along the walls, twisting in the growing unease.

You tried to steady your breathing, to calm the chaos within, but your mind raced with unanswered questions, with the gnawing suspicion that Wooyoung was right, and it terrified you. 

Wooyoung’s face fell, the spark of his usual wit dimming into something darker, something almost sorrowful. He shifted uncomfortably again, as though he wished to be anywhere but here, at this moment.

"Because no one wants to see you hurting, Y/N,” His voice was barely above a whisper, thick with regret. "You were in so much pain that you thought forgetting him and becoming the keeper would make it stop."

That name again. Y/N. It echoed in your mind, a foreign weight on your chest. It felt like a name you should know, but it slipped through your grasp. A name tied to a life you no longer remembered. 

"That toy," he continued, "it triggered something, didn’t it? The memories—the emotions—they were too strong. And when you felt that, your magic went unstable. The shop could barely handle it."

You shuddered, the memory of that moment still fresh, still raw. But one question clawed at you, louder than the chaos you’d unleashed.

What had been so unbearable that the only answer was to forget?

“Why is it so cold?” you groaned, bouncing on your toes and rubbing your hands together, trying to get the blood flowing. 

The train station was always drafty, but today it felt like the cold had settled into your bones, refusing to leave. You shivered and glanced around, surprised to see no snow on the ground. It was odd—this time of year usually meant blankets of white everywhere, the world covered in a quiet stillness. Yet now, all you had was the biting wind and a gray sky threatening snow that never seemed to come.

Yunho stood beside you, his breath puffing out in small clouds as he huddled deeper into his coat. He laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you. 

“You’re always cold,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Should’ve worn more layers.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re practically a furnace,” you grumbled. 

The two of you had decided to take the train home for the holidays after your first semester of university. You were both exhausted—finals had drained whatever energy you had left—but there was excitement in the air as Christmas approached. 

“I’m surprised there’s no snow,” you mused, gazing up at the dull, overcast sky. The clouds hung low, thick and heavy, but still no sign of snowflakes falling. “Feels weird, doesn’t it? Christmas without snow.”

Yunho hummed in agreement beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he followed your gaze. “Yeah, it’s like something’s missing. Hopefully, it’ll snow while we’re home.”

His voice was hopeful, and you could see the small spark of excitement in his eyes. Yunho loved snow—it wasn’t just the beauty of it, but the way it brought a sense of stillness and magic to the world. The kind of magic that reminded you both of simpler times, of building snowmen as kids and staying out too long until your fingers were numb.

The next morning, Yunho’s wish came true.

Snow. Fresh, untouched snow covered everything. The rooftops, the streets, the trees—it all glistened under the early morning light, as if the entire world had been dipped in magic overnight. 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the moment he hoped for when you both had been standing at the train station, wondering if Christmas would even feel like Christmas without snow. Now, it was here. His wish had come true.

But more than that, he wanted to share this moment with you.

You blinked up at the sky, a few lazy snowflakes still drifting down, landing on your lashes and melting against your skin. Yunho stood beside you, watching the way your eyes lit up, the way you took in the moment like it was something precious. 

The two of you stood there for a while, wordlessly watching the snowfall together. It was the kind of stillness that felt sacred, the kind that only came with the first snow of the season. 

As Yunho glanced at you, his breath caught. You weren’t doing anything special—just standing there, bundled up in your oversized hoodie, your hair slightly messy from sleep, your cheeks flushed from the cold. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, least of all him. You were just you, in the most effortless way, and somehow, that had always been enough.

There was a simplicity to the moment that felt different, more profound than he expected. Last summer, when you’d spent long, sunny days together, he’d thought he understood what he felt for you. He cared about you more than anyone, maybe more than he should’ve let on. It was a love that had grown quietly, steadily, and was beginning to envelop him. 

It was too easy to love you. Too effortless, too natural, as if his heart had always been meant for you. And that’s what made it so dangerous.

He knew that sometimes, love—no matter how powerful—wasn’t enough. The thought of risking what you had—this simple, effortless connection that meant everything to him—for something as unpredictable as love felt like falling into the ocean.

And Yunho wasn’t ready to make the jump. 

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his temples as if that could somehow ease the pounding in his skull. His head felt like it was being split open, a dull, relentless ache that refused to let up. The events of the previous night were a blur—fragments of conversation, too many drinks, and the sinking realization that he’d gone well past his limit.

He’s supposed to head back to Seoul today, back to his life and the steady rhythm of work that usually kept his life in order. But there was no way he could face that right now, not with the amount of alcohol that had been consumed. 

The events of last night came back to him in disjointed, hazy flashes. He remembered the way your fingers brushed against the plush toy, followed by the sudden paling of your face right before you collapsed to the floor. 

Yunho’s heart had nearly stopped at that moment, the world around him crashing into stillness. The usual hum of the emporium faded into nothing, the vibrant colors of the shelves and strange objects blurring into meaningless shapes. 

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he was running, sprinting toward you as if the very air had been torn from his lungs. The world shrank, narrowing to the sight of you lifeless in his arms.

"Y/N, stay with me," he whispered, panic thick in his voice as he cradled your unconscious body. It was the same terror he’d felt the day you disappeared, the same helpless, gut-wrenching fear that had kept him awake at night, haunted by the thought that he’d never see you again.

Yunho held you like his entire world depended on it, his arms wrapped tightly around you, desperate and unrelenting. He pressed his forehead against yours, as he cradled your head against his chest, the warmth of your skin barely noticeable as panic surged inside him.

“I’m sorry, just please, please don’t leave me,” he begged, his voice barely holding together. His fingers tightened their grip on you, trembling with the fear that if he let go, even for a second, you’d slip away for good.

He couldn’t lose you, not when he had just found you again.

Then came Wooyoung’s revelation. You had chosen to disappear from his life. It wasn’t an accident, or some cruel twist of fate. You had asked the shop to erase your memories—all of them. He could still hear Wooyoung’s voice, bitter and sharp, recounting the details, but the exact reason why Wooyoung had been so angry at him was lost in the fog of the night.

He remembered the sting—the way the door slammed behind him, the coldness of the night hitting his face as he stood there, dazed, confused and frustrated. You were alive, bound to this strange realm by forces he didn’t fully understand. But worse than that, you had willingly cut him out of your life.

After that, things blurred even more. He’d ended up at a bar, the numbness setting in as he ordered drink after drink, trying to drown the sea of emotions that threatened to consume him. Somewhere along the way, Yeosang had joined him, and Yunho found himself pouring his heart out—his frustrations, his guilt, his failures. He had ranted about the weight of trying to be the good guy while everything around him crumbled.

Now, in the harsh light of day, the weight of it all hit him with a different kind of intensity. His heart felt heavy, and he had no idea where to go from here.

Yunho sat up, staring at his phone as if it might give him the answers he was too afraid to ask for. His thumb hovered over Haewon’s name on the screen, trembling slightly. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say—he didn’t have a plan, only a sinking feeling in his chest that told him he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. 

The line rang once, then twice. By the third ring, his heart had started racing, the weight of everything he had to confront pressing down on him like a vice. When it went to voicemail, Yunho’s stomach dropped.

“Hey, it’s Haewon! Sorry I missed your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”

The artificial cheer in her voice made his skin crawl, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He could almost picture her—smiling, carefree, the version of her that had loved him wholeheartedly. But that wasn’t who she was anymore. That wasn’t who they were.

"Hey..." he finally whispered, “give me a call when you get a chance.” Yunho waited for a beat, as if hoping she might pick up at the last second, but the line remained silent, empty.

“Yunho? Aren’t you getting ready to head back?” His mom’s voice was gentle, but it startled him from his thoughts. She appeared in the doorway, concern etched in the lines of her face. 

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don’t know if I’m going back,” he admitted softly, his voice thick with uncertainty. 

His mom walked in, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, her presence warm and calming. She had always been able to read him better than anyone, even when he was trying his best to hide. Mrs. Jeong didn’t say anything for a moment, just letting the silence hang between them, giving him the space to breathe.

“Tell me more.”

Yunho sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of everything he’d been holding in. It was strange—he felt like a teenager again, venting to his mom about his problems, but this time it felt more suffocating. The future he had thought he wanted, the life he had worked so hard to build, no longer felt like his.

“I’m hungover. I’m miserable. I don’t want to marry Haewon. I’m not happy with my job or where I am in my life. Mingi is my only friend, Yeosang kind of hates me, and Y/N…” He let out a watery chuckle, the sound laced with bitterness. “She’s gone.”

There it was, the truth laid bare—the reality that had been gnawing at him for months, too terrifying to confront. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything he had been trying to ignore.

Mrs. Jeong’s gaze softened as she listened, her heart heavy with a mother’s instinct to protect, but knowing she couldn’t fix this for him. She reached out, placing a hand over his. 

“You’ve been carrying this for a while, haven’t you?” Her voice was soft, laced with a sadness that only came from witnessing the quiet battles of someone you love.

Yunho looked down to their joined hands, his throat tightening. The words he had held back for so long hovered on the edge of his lips, threatening to escape. 

“I thought I could handle it. But—" He paused, his fingers gripping hers a little tighter, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the floodgates closed. 

"I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay,” he continued, voice cracking slightly. “I’m tired, Mom. Of the job, the engagement, everything. It’s like I’m suffocating, and I don’t know how to breathe anymore.” he replied, quieter now, almost like he was talking to himself. It was the first time he’d admitted it out loud. The fear that had been chaining him to a future he didn’t want.

His mother exhaled softly, her brow furrowing as she absorbed his words. After a moment, she squeezed his hand and spoke gently, her voice calm but firm.

“You’ve always been so considerate. Always thinking of others. But have you thought about what you want? Truly want, not just what you think you should want?”

It wasn’t something Yunho had ever allowed himself to consider fully, and even now, the thought seemed almost too outlandish, too selfish. But the way his mother looked at him, with such understanding, made it feel less frightening, less impossible to confront.

“You’re allowed to want something different, Yunho. You’re allowed to change your mind. You’re allowed to choose yourself.”

Her words struck something within him, unraveling the tightly wound rope of expectations he had tangled himself in for so long. He hesitated, his heart pounding as he dared to voice the question that had haunted him for months.

“So you wouldn’t be upset if I called off the wedding?” His voice was small, almost as if he were afraid the very mention of it might cause everything to collapse around him.

His mother shook her head, her expression soft and reassuring. “Of course not, Yunho. Haewon is lovely, but…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, as she looked at him. “I always felt like she wasn’t the one for you.”

Yunho blinked, surprised by the admission. His mother had never said anything like that before, and in all their talks about the wedding, she had always been supportive, never giving any sign that she might have doubts of her own. 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked, almost incredulous. 

“Because you’re finally listening to yourself. This is your life, not mine, not anyone else’s. It wasn’t my place to tell you how to live, Yunho. I wanted to believe that you knew what was best for you.”

“And if I quit my job?” he asked, testing the waters, anxiety sparking in his voice. 

“Gunho would be thrilled,” she laughed. “You know, he was absolutely livid when you took the finance job over the Tigers. I’ve never seen him so upset with you! He ranted for weeks about how you were wasting your talents behind a desk instead of being out there building the ultimate dream team.”

His mother’s laughter faded, replaced by a more serious expression. “We’ve all had our hopes for you, Yunho. But those were our hopes, not yours. Life’s not a straight line. It’s full of twists and turns. You don’t have to stay on a path that doesn’t feel right anymore.”

There was something comforting about the idea, the notion of stepping away from the path he had chosen, back to something that felt more like home—more like himself. Sitting with his mother, he began to wonder: What if it wasn’t reckless? What if choosing the life he truly wanted wasn’t some wild, selfish fantasy? What if it was okay to dream again?

His mind wandered to you, to the quiet snowfall and how the snowflakes caught on your lashes. He thought of that summer, driving to the beach, the wind in your hair and the sun beaming down on you, like the world itself couldn’t touch you as long as you were together.

He thought of meeting you for the first time at six years old, running across the street and greeting you as if he’d known him your entire life. It was as if he’d found his other half that day, the person who made him feel complete even in his innocence.

But then, more painfully, he thought of meeting you for the first time again. Only this time, you hadn’t known him at all. 

With you, there was no need to fill the silence. Everything felt easy, natural, like you were meant to exist beside each other. You were his best friend, the one person who made him feel like himself. And suddenly, Yunho knew. 

It was you. 

The version of himself that existed when he was with you—that was who he truly was. It was a terrifying realization, but at the same time, it was the most certain thing he’d felt in a long time. You had always been the one constant in his life, the one person who made everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t.

And he didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want to lose you.

He wanted a future with you.

Yunho swallowed, his pulse quickening, but for the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was clear. 

“I think…” he began, his voice steady, resolute, “I know where I want to go from here.”

Pushing open the door, the familiar chime rang through the shop. It was empty, save for you, and Yunho’s breath caught when he saw you standing behind the counter, bathed in the glow of fading daylight. 

He glanced over at you, watching the way you moved, how you seemed so different and yet so familiar. The person standing in front of him was still you, the same person he’d known since childhood. The memories from childhood rushed back again—the snow, the summer sun, the first time you played baseball together. It all made sense now, in ways it never had before.

“Yunho,” you greeted, your voice carrying a warmth as you lifted your hand with a graceful flick. The scroll hovering beside you shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into the air, disappearing as if it had never existed. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asked quietly. There was something boyish, almost shy, in the way he looked at you, like he was a kid again, standing in front of his crush, hoping for something, anything, that would tell him he was making the right choice.

“Better. Thank you for being here the other night. It seems like you were a big help to Wooyoung.”

"I'm glad to hear that," he murmured, his voice soft as his gaze lingered on you, his eyes softening as if he were seeing you for the first time all over again. There was a quiet admiration that he couldn’t quite hide, no matter how hard he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"I uh…" he hesitated, his eyes flickered away for a moment, as if searching for courage in the silence between you, “I’m leaving for Seoul. Just to take care of some things. I wanted to see you before I left.”

You tilted your head, curiosity lighting up your eyes, the corners of your lips lifting in that familiar way that made his heart stutter. A playful yet gentle hum escaped your lips. 

“Oh? And why’s that?”

Your question hung in the air, teasing him, pulling at the tangled mess of feelings he'd tried to bury for so long. He looked at you, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he struggled to find the right response. 

“I—” he started, but his voice faltered. His pulse quickened, and for a moment, he felt completely exposed. “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The air around you seemed to still, the gravity of his admission settling like dust in the corners of the emporium. The idea of leaving felt wrong to him, and yet it was inevitable, something he had to do. 

Your eyes softened with understanding, feeling more like home than any place he could go. Something in your gaze recognized him, sensing the invisible thread that tied you together. 

“No matter where you are,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the same calm assurance that had always soothed him, “the emporium will always be within reach. As will I.”

The words were simple, yet they held a promise—a promise that went beyond physical space or memory. The emporium was never bound by the ordinary rules of the world, and neither, it seemed, were you. Your small, understanding smile made Yunho feel that, despite the uncertainty, everything would be okay.

“Besides,” you continued, a playful glint flickering in your eyes, “I can always ask Wooyoung to lend a helping hand. He knows the way.”

“That cat does nothing but bully me,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, recalling how Wooyoung had made him a target of mischief.

Your laugh filled the space between you, a sound that seemed to chase away the heaviness for just a moment. Though Yunho tried to maintain his frown, the corners of his lips betrayed him, lifting into a reluctant smile. 

Even though you didn’t remember him, it didn’t matter. There was something deeper between you, something unshakeable. And that, in its own way, gave him the strength he needed to leave.

You stepped forward, that invisible thread that had always seemed to exist between you tugged at your heart, drawing you toward him. It was a connection that transcended words, possibly even space and time. Yunho’s eyes lingered on you, their quiet intensity making your heart skip a beat.

“The next time I come into the shop,” he began, his voice low, “I’ll be ready to make my wish.”

You searched his face, trying to read the depths of what he meant, but all you found was that same gentle fervor staring back at you. 

“You’ve thought about it?”

“I have,” he admitted. “With everything that’s happening, I think I finally know what I want.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a promise. Whatever his wish was, it wasn’t something to be rushed—it belonged to the future, a time when he was ready to claim it. And somehow, you understood that.

“I’ll be waiting,” you whispered, though you knew Yunho heard it.

As he turned to leave, a sudden thought gripped you, pulling you back from the brink of your goodbye. “Yunho… before you leave…”

He froze at the sound of his name on your lips, his heart fluttering. Every breath, every glance, vibrated with something unspoken, something powerful.

“Who are you?” you asked, your voice soft, tentative. “To me?”

<< iii | v >>

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