#so this is me. stepping back and signing out.

[fatecantstopme]

Help Me Remember

Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: Your memories have been taken from you and it's up to Dean to get them back.

Warnings: Angsty af, memory loss, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), light face fucking, unprotected sex (P in V), biting (minimal), dirty talk.

Three Weeks Ago

"God almighty, what is that smell?"

You were doing your best to avoid inhaling too deeply--the stench uncomfortably strong. "Rotting flesh."

"Dead body?" Dean asked.

You nodded. "Several, I think."

"Great." Dean stepped in front of you, the instinct to protect you always foremost in his mind. He stepped through the open doorway, quickly enveloped by darkness.

You heard him grunt lowly and you stepped forward, trying to see through the darkness, but even your flashlight didn't penetrate it much. "Dean?"

When he didn't respond, you felt a tightening in your chest. "Dean?" you called again, a little louder.

The silence was deafening--sending cold chills down your back as you stepped farther into the room. "Babe? Answer me."

You took another step forward and your foot collided with something sturdy on the floor in front of you. You trained your flashlight downwards and inhaled sharply as the light illuminated a body at your feet. "Dean!"

You dropped to your knees beside him to check for a pulse, foolishly opening yourself up to attack in such a vulnerable moment.

The last sound you heard was a dark cackle coming from your right just before you were plunged into complete darkness.

Dean awoke with a low groan, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. It took him several moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. As soon as the memories clicked in his mind, he called out your name. You didn't respond and he felt a cold desperation wrap around his heart.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled as he pulled himself off the floor. "Sweetheart? Where are you?"

He was met with complete silence, making his blood run cold. He couldn't find the flashlight he'd been carrying, so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness around him.

He immediately noticed the stench from earlier had dissipated, as had the total darkness that surrounded him in the moments before he'd lost consciousness. His flashlight had barely cut through the blackness, but his phone was able to light up the majority of the room around him with relative ease.

The room was completely empty. Not a single rotting corpse to be seen. No cause for the smell from earlier, nor any sign of what had caused the room to be plunged into complete darkness. More importantly, there was no sign of you.

Dean immediately ran from the room, hurriedly searching the rest of the abandoned home in the hopes of finding you passed out like he had been. When he'd searched every room to no avail, his panic had risen to untenable levels.

He called your phone, but it immediately went to voicemail. He left a frantic message before hanging up and calling Sam.

His brother answered on the second ring. "Dean? Everything okay?"

"Is (Y/N) with you?"

Sam could hear the panic in Dean's voice, causing his heart to race. "No...she was with you on that hunt in Colorado."

"I can't find her anywhere."

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I mean, I got knocked out and when I woke up she was gone. I've searched the whole damn house--she's gone, Sam!"

"Okay, breathe. She wouldn't leave you, so she's gotta be there somewhere."

"Well something knocked me out, Sam--and whatever the hell it was had to have taken (Y/N/N)."

"That doesn't make sense, Dean. You said it was a ghost--a basic haunting."

"Yeah that's what we thought it was! Clearly we were wrong."

"Alright, alright," Sam said in a soothing voice. "I'll pack a bag and head your way--we'll find her."

Dean let out a pained sound. "Hurry."

"I will."

**********

Present

You groaned in annoyance, rolling over in bed to slam your hand on the snooze of your alarm. When the incessant noise stopped, you sighed quietly, staring at the ceiling as light filtered in through the window.

You wanted to get out of bed and go to work about as much as you wanted to get hit by a car, but unfortunately the bills wouldn't pay themselves.

You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for work. Thirty minutes later, you were grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

When you reached the office, you sat in your car for a few minutes, gathering whatever strength you had to get out of your car and walk through those doors. You hated your job--this office life was simply not for you. It was boring, but the paycheck was decent and you didn't have any other options.

You'd only had the job for a few weeks--it would be embarrassing to quit so soon after starting. Besides, the work was easy and your coworkers were nice enough.

You sighed quietly before getting out of the car and heading into the office building. You were greeted by several of your coworkers and you said your good mornings as you made your way to your office.

The day passed by uneventfully, just as every single day of the past few weeks seemed to. When 5pm rolled around, you packed up your things and left for the day. You decided to stop and get Chinese food on your way home--the urge to cook about as far away as the country of China was.

After picking up dinner, you made your way home. As you pulled into your driveway, you noticed an old black muscle car parked in front of your neighbor's house. You thought it odd given your neighbor was out of town, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as your stomach grumbled hungrily.

You grabbed your things and headed inside, dropping your keys and purse by the front door. You tugged your shoes off, silently cursing whoever created high heels. You sat your food on the kitchen island and went to the fridge to grab a beer.

You plopped down at the island, quickly pulling the containers of delicious food from the bag. You groaned happily as you took a bite of food--finally sating the grumbling of your stomach.

Mid-bite, you heard a noise upstairs, causing you to freeze. You listened closely, almost certain there was someone in your house. You grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and made your way slowly towards the stairs.

You went up them as quietly as you could, stopping on the landing to listen for more noises. You heard movement at the end of the hall, where your office was. You made your way toward the room, holding the knife in front of you.

When you rounded the corner, you saw a man standing in your office, looking through your desk. You steeled yourself before stepping fully into the room, yelling "hey!" as you entered.

The man looked up at you and froze, eyes flicking between your face and the knife in your hand. "Woah, easy there, sweetheart."

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

The man looked slightly confused. "It's me, (Y/N)."

"How the hell do you know my name?"

The man started to come around to the front of your desk and you stepped towards him, brandishing the knife in what you hoped was a menacing manner. The man was significantly larger than you, but you didn't feel the fear you expected to feel. You felt oddly certain you could hold your own against him in a fight--which made zero sense to you. You'd never been in a fight in your life.

"Easy, (Y/N). Just put the knife down and we can talk."

"You broke into my house, asshole. No way am I putting down this knife."

His hands were still up in the air, but he didn't seem any more afraid of you than you were of him. "Okay, sweetheart, just relax. I can explain."

"Stop calling me that--I don't know you."

The man looked hurt by your words, but he seemed to shrug them off. "Sorry, sweet--shit. Sorry." He slowly lowered his hands, waiting for you to make a move. When you didn't, he lowered them completely. "My name is Dean Winchester."

He waited for a moment, hoping to see a flash of recognition on your face--but your expression remained blank. It was like a stab to the heart, but he continued. "Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You're 33 years old. Your parents' names are Lily and Carter. You were born in New Mexico, but you spent most of your formative years in London. You came back to the U.S. after the death of your parents when you were 19. We met a couple years later on a hunt in Arkansas. We've been inseparable ever since."

The hand holding the knife was shaking almost uncontrollably. There was no way he could know any of those things--you didn't talk about your parents or your childhood with anyone. Hell, you barely mentioned the existence of a personal life.

"How do you know all of that? I don't talk about my family with anyone."

"You did with me."

"But I don't know you--I've never seen you before in my life."

"Yes you have...you just don't remember."

"Excuse me?"

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Three weeks ago, you and I were on a hunt in Colorado. It seemed like a routine hunt...but something went wrong. I was knocked unconscious and you disappeared. I've spent the last three weeks searching for you."

"I've never been hunting a day in my life."

"Look, I know it's confusing and I understand why you don't believe me, but I swear to you, it's the truth."

Much to your surprise, every instinct in your body seemed to believe him...to believe this man you'd never seen before, to trust the man who'd broken into your home, to believe the insane story he was telling you.

You slowly lowered the knife and exhaled shakily. "I don't understand what's going on, but my gut instinct is to trust you."

Dean exhaled gratefully. "You can trust me."

"If you're fucking with me--" you raised the knife for emphasis, "I swear I will beat the shit out of you."

Dean laughed softly. "I'd expect nothing less."

You shot him an odd look and shook your head. "You hungry? I have Chinese food downstairs."

"Sure. I could eat."

You nodded towards the door. "You first sunshine."

He walked ahead of you, making his way down to the kitchen with you in tow. He sat down at the island and you sat across from him, setting the knife on the counter beside you.

"Want a beer?" you asked.

"Absolutely."

You pointed at the fridge. "Help yourself."

Once he had his beverage, he sat back down, eyes watching you intently. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, so you called him out on it.

"It's just...hard to see you like this."

"I'm sure it is. It's uncomfortable for me too."

He winced. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I've just really missed you."

You finally took a moment to really take in his features. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen, but what really drew you in were his eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of green, but it was the warmth in them that made you feel comfortable. It was clear to you this Dean Winchester guy cared about you, even if you had zero clue as to why.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he answered.

"What am I to you?"

Dean inhaled sharply and his gaze drifted to the countertop in front of him. It was clear he wasn't sure how to answer that question--or if he should answer it. "I'm...I'm not sure I should answer that."

"I'm a big girl, Dean. Just tell me."

He looked back up at you, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't answer your question. "What do you remember of your life?"

"What?"

"Just tell me what you remember."

"Everything you said about my life was true. My name, my childhood, my parents...their deaths. I remember all of that. I remember moving back to the U.S....but I don't remember meeting you and I certainly don't remember hunting."

"So what have you been doing for the past 14 years?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories infinitely more clear than the ones from your childhood. "I went to college and got a degree in marketing. Dated off and on, but no one had long-term potential. I had a few shitty jobs before finally landing the one at my current firm. I've been there a couple weeks, but I've got a corner office, a good paycheck, and decent coworkers."

"And do you like it? Marketing?"

You paused, considering your options before deciding to answer honestly. "It's boring, in all honesty, but it pays the bills."

"Do you ever think maybe you're meant for something more?"

You stared at him in surprise. You didn't know how he could possibly know that...you'd never shared that particular thought with anyone. You'd always felt that way--for as long as you could remember. "Yes," you whispered. "How did you know that?"

Dean smiled at you. "Because you are meant for more, (Y/N/N). You've spent the last 14 years doing more--you've saved countless lives. Hell, you've helped save the entire planet more than once."

You laughed loudly, thinking he must be joking. When you noticed his expression was completely serious, your laughter died instantly. "You--you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

You scoffed. "No offense, Dean, but I've never saved anyone--let alone the entire planet. I think that's something I would remember."

He gave you a sad smile, pain lacing his gorgeous features. "There's so much you don't remember, (Y/N/N)."

The pain on his face matched the tone of his voice--and it sent a piercing pain into your heart. A pain you couldn't possibly begin to understand. "What else don't I remember?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't think you're ready for all of that, sweetheart."

This time, you didn't correct him. The pet name made your chest ache--and you had a feeling this was a common term of endearment from him. It made you want to understand the nature of your relationship. "Then just tell me one thing. What am I to you?"

Dean exhaled slowly, brilliant green eyes fluttering closed. He was desperately trying to remain objective, but it was nearly impossible. He felt like he owed you in some way and he knew he couldn't lie. His eyes met yours once again and you were stunned by the depths of emotion swimming in those green orbs.

"I feel like I owe you the truth, but I don't want you to freak out. So just...please just let me talk before you respond."

You nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Like I said before, we met a few years after you came back to the states. About 11 years ago, to be exact. I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday. You were so beautiful--almost painfully so. I felt drawn to you immediately, but you wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose it only made me want you more." He chuckled fondly at the memory. "You were pure fire back then. No one could control you, not that I'd ever dare to try. I think I fell in love almost immediately. You were everything I'd ever wanted, but I uh--I had a bit of a reputation in the community. A not-so-nice reputation when it came to the ladies...and unfortunately for me, you were well-aware of it."

Dean shook his head sadly. "I still don't know why, but you decided to stay with me and Sam--my brother. The three of us hunted together and sometime during the year that followed, I managed to win you over. You were crazy enough to fall in love with me--and we've been together ever since." He paused. "So to answer your question, (Y/N), you're the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my confidante, my whole world. You're the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with and I'll be damned if I don't make good on that promise."

You sat in stunned silence, unsure how to feel about his revelation. One thing was for sure, you knew he was being honest. Every fiber of your being told you he loved you--every instinct you had screamed that he meant every word he said. It nearly broke your heart to have no memory of the feelings he was referring to...you couldn't reciprocate his words. As far as you were concerned, he was a stranger to you. You had no idea how to respond--nothing you could have said would have comforted him.

After several moments of silence, you finally looked up at Dean, meeting his teary gaze. "I believe you," you whispered.

Surprise lit up the handsome man's face. He hadn't been sure how you'd respond, but he hadn't thought you'd believe a word he said. "I meant every word, (Y/N/N)."

"I'm sorry I don't remember," you murmured sadly.

He offered you a small smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna find a way to get your memories back--to get our lives back."

"How?"

"If you're okay with it, we'll go see a friend of mine. She might be able to help."

You might be crazy for being willing to go with this strange man...but your gut told you there was no other choice. You hated the life you lived and if there was even a chance the life Dean was describing was real, you had to take it. "I'm in."

Dean smiled warmly. "That's my girl."

**********

Dean didn't explain who exactly you were going to see, but he did tell you it was quite a distance away. As such, you'd have to stop in a motel along the way.

Dean kept the conversations in the car away from the life--from hunting. He wasn't ready to explain all of that yet, especially if there was even the slightest chance you would run away screaming. He needed you to trust him and mentioning monsters wasn't likely to keep things calm.

It was late at night when he finally pulled off into a roadside motel. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll do for a night," Dean commented.

You offered him a smile and followed him into the dingy room. You tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door and Dean immediately picked it up and moved it to the other bed. "No way in hell are you sleeping by the door, sweetheart."

You looked a little surprised, but simply shrugged your agreement.

Dean winced. "Sorry--I just worry about your safety, that's all."

You smiled. "It's alright. I get it."

He tossed his bag on the bed and sat down to take off his boots. "You can get the first shower."

"Alright, thanks." You grabbed your stuff and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Dean made a call to Sam as soon as the door to the bathroom was closed. He'd already called his brother and informed him that he'd found you and told him where you were headed. Sam was already on his way to you, speeding along the highway in your direction.

"Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's in the shower right now. Where you at?"

"Probably an hour out now. What motel did you stop at?"

Dean gave him the location and room number. "Call me when you get here and I'll let you in."

"Have you told her I'm coming yet?"

"I mentioned you earlier...but I'm trying to keep her as calm as possible. I don't want her to freak out."

Sam sighed. "Alright, but you might wanna mention it before I get there."

"Yeah, yeah. I will. See you soon."

20 minutes after the call ended, you came out of the bathroom, feeling reasonably clean. You'd spent more time in the shower than you'd needed to, if only to try and calm your racing mind. A lot had happened in the last five hours and you were mentally and emotionally exhausted.

When you came out of the bathroom, you collapsed on the musty-smelling bed and sighed.

"I know it's not a great place, but maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired."

"Very."

Dean smiled sadly. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick, okay?"

You nodded and rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard bed.

Dean eyed you warily before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep with shocking ease. Mental exhaustion was clearly a great cure for insomnia.

When Dean came out of the shower, he fully expected you to still be awake. He wanted to let you know Sam was on the way so you wouldn't be freaked out by his arrival. Unfortunately, you were clearly sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you. You looked too peaceful to disturb.

**********

You awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, bladder throbbing uncomfortably. You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, failing to notice the large figure lying on the couch near the bathroom door.

Your movement woke Sam up and he decided he needed to use the bathroom too. He stood up and stretched, waiting for you to come back out.

When you came out of the bathroom, you caught sight of a large male figure standing near the door. You quickly assessed him and realized it wasn't Dean--the man was too tall. Without thinking, you lunged towards him, fist connecting with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.

He fell back into the small dining table, forcing it against the wall with a loud noise. The commotion was enough to wake up Dean, who shot out of bed ready to fight. It took him only a moment to realize what had happened.

You lunged towards Sam again, who held up his hands to block your attack. Dean jumped towards you and yelled your name, pulling you to a stop.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Dean insisted. "It's just Sam!"

You were breathing heavily, but you lowered your fists. "Who the hell is Sam?"

"My brother!"

Your mind cleared slightly as you remembered Dean mentioning Sam's name earlier in the evening. "Oh shit," you muttered.

Dean turned on the light and Sam rubbed his jaw woefully. "Nice swing, (Y/N/N).

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I didn't mean to--I just reacted."

"Well it was a good shot either way," Sam said with a pained chuckle.

Dean laughed softly. "At least your instincts are still strong."

You winced a smile. "Let me go get some ice."

Dean stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "I'll go get it. Stay inside."

You could tell he was worried about your safety and it made you wonder what he wasn't telling you.

Sam sat down at the table and continued to rub his jaw. "It really is good to see you, (Y/N). Despite the punch."

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know you would be here."

"I figured that out," he said with a light chuckle. "Don't worry about it. It was a solid punch."

Dean came back in with a full ice bucket. He handed the bucket to Sam and chuckled. "Damn dude, she got you good."

You winced, feeling terrible for hurting him.

Dean noticed your discomfort and turned to you with a gentle smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. He's had a hell of a lot worse. He'll be fine."

Sam nodded his agreement. "He's not wrong. I'm alright."

You punched Dean in the arm in annoyance.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You could have told me he was coming!"

"You were asleep! I didn't wanna wake you."

You sighed. "Alright fine, but quit keeping things from me, Dean."

He nodded, rubbing his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"I'm going back to sleep. Let me know when it's time to go."

The brothers watched you crawl back into bed and Dean let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm too awake to sleep now."

"Same," Sam muttered.

The two sat at the table in silence, allowing you to get a couple more hours of sleep before it was time to head back out on the road.

**********

"So who exactly are we going to see?" you asked curiously.

Sam shot his brother a look from the backseat of the car. Dean glared at him in the rearview mirror and the younger man stayed silent.

"A friend of ours from when we were kids," Dean answered. "Her name is Missouri."

"Missouri...hmm. Do I know her?"

Dean nodded.

"How can she help me?"

"She's uh...well she's really..."

"Perceptive," Sam finished for him.

"Yeah, perceptive."

You gave Dean an odd look. "Okay then."

"Just...trust me, okay? She's the best there is. She can help."

Two words remained unsaid, living only deep in Dean's heart. I hope.

When the car pulled up in front of the house, Missouri immediately knew who it was. She met the three of you at the front door, a smile on her face.

"What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from all three Winchesters?"

Dean froze for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Missouri. Nor did you miss her use of the words "three Winchesters".

You shot Dean a silent reproachful look and Missouri tsked loudly. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything, Missouri. I swear."

Missouri's gaze landed on your face, her expression softening instantly. "Oh honey..."

Her expression frightened you, as did her extremely perceptive gaze. It felt as though she was looking directly through you.

"Well come in you three. It's cold out here."

The three of you followed the older woman into her home. She gestured for you all to sit in the living room while she went to the kitchen to make some tea.

"Why did she call me a Winchester?" you asked Dean in hushed tones.

Sam gave his brother an 'I told you so' look and waited for his response.

Dean sighed. "I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," he admitted. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was your name, until six years ago."

"What happened six years ago?" You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it.

"We got married," he answered softly. "You decided to change your name...and you've been (Y/N) Winchester ever since."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to freak you out. I'd already unloaded a lot of information on you. It's hard to look your wife in the eyes and realize she doesn't remember you--it's even harder to tell her what she means to you."

"But you told me how much you loved me...why couldn't you admit we're married?"

Dean shook his head. "I really don't know, sweetheart. I think I was scared you would run. It had been so hard to find you and I didn't want to risk losing you again."

Tears welled in your eyes and you placed a soft, comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."

He looked up at you, expression matching your own. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, though he desperately wanted to kiss your lips instead.

"Tea, everyone," Missouri stated as she entered the living room.

You immediately took the cup she offered you gratefully. "Thank you."

She nodded at you, giving you a warm smile. "Now I know you boys don't like tea, but there's no alcohol in this house."

"I'll take a cup, Missouri," Sam said.

She handed him a cup and gave Dean a stern look. You had a feeling the expression had nothing to do with his not liking tea.

"Now why don't you boys tell me what brings you all the way out here."

Dean sighed. "You mean you don't already know?"

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"Oh I imagine it has something to do with (Y/N)'s memories, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Surprise lit up your face. "How did you--?"

"I see your husband left a few things out, didn't he? Do you want to share, Dean?"

Dean winced and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well--umm...Missouri is--well, she's psychic."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

"Psychic," Dean repeated.

You turned to look at Sam and he simply nodded. Your gaze shifted back to Missouri who gave you another sad smile.

"It's true, honey. That's why I know about your missing memories. I can see the block in your mind...and the fake memories replacing your real ones."

"Fake memories? What do you mean fake memories?"

"How did your parents die?" Missouri asked seemingly from nowhere.

"A car accident," you answered in confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean and Sam exchange glances. Missouri sighed quietly and shook her head.

You tried to catch Dean's gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, suddenly fascinated with the pattern of the rug.

"Are you saying my parents didn't die in a car accident?"

"No, dear. They did not," Missouri answered.

"But I remember--" you fell silent as Missouri's words came back to you...'fake memories'. You shook your head. "I don't understand."

Missouri gave you a pitying look. "When you were 19 years old, your parents were murdered by something inhuman. A creature known as a ghoul. The ghoul appeared to you as your mother after it had killed her in an attempt to kill you, but you realized it wasn't your mother. You grabbed a wooden candlestick off the mantle and bashed the creature's head in, managing to kill it without even knowing what it was."

You were frozen in your seat, caught somewhere between disbelief and utter terror. You pushed the terror down, allowing the disbelief to prevail. You jumped out of your seat and yelled, "You people are crazy! Ghouls don't exist!"

Dean stood up and grabbed your arm to keep you from running. "Ghouls are very real, (Y/N). That experience changed your life forever. From that moment on, you knew the things that go bump in the night were real...that they murdered innocent people all over the world. It's why you came back here...to find answers and learn how to hunt them."

You shook your head vehemently. "No, no, that's not possible. They died in a car accident!"

Dean turned you to face him completely. "We met on a vampire hunt in Arkansas. Sam and I had identified the case and we ran into you early on in the hunt. You more than proved your abilities during that case and I asked you to come hunt with us. I didn't want you to keep going alone--it was too risky."

"What are you talking about?" you cried. "Vampires aren't real! None of this is real...it can't be real." Your knees turned to jelly and you would have fallen to the floor if Dean hadn't been holding onto you. He pulled you into him and you sobbed into his chest, finally allowing your tumultuous emotions out.

Dean held you tightly, tears of his own threatening to fall. He didn't know how to make you believe any of this--it sounded insane to him and he'd been raised in the life. He had a hard enough time convincing people who had literally seen a monster that they were real--this was so much worse. You couldn't remember all the monsters you'd killed in your life, so why would you ever believe a word any of them said?

"We might seem crazy, (Y/N), but I think if you allow yourself to believe it for even a moment, you may find it's not as crazy as it sounds," Missouri said gently.

You sniffled softly and turned to look into her eyes. You were still wrapped in Dean's arms--it made you feel incredibly safe, despite the situation. You focused on that feeling and tried to relax your breathing. Every single part of you was certain Dean would die to protect you...if that was true, then the love he had for you was real too. If his love was real, then so was your relationship--your marriage. If all of this was true, then maybe what he was telling you was true...maybe monsters really were real.

Missouri saw the moment you began to believe them--your eyes showed your emotions, but it was your mind that gave you away. She could sense your belief, just as she could sense the false memories swirling around in your mind.

"A witch," she said softly.

Dean's entire body went rigid. "What?"

"The missing memories and the replacements...it's the work of a witch. An extremely powerful one at that."

"Are you sure?" Dean whispered.

Missouri shot him a glare that told him exactly how certain she was.

"A witch?" you questioned softly, pulling away from Dean to look at his face.

"My least favorite type of monster."

"Witches are monsters?" you asked.

"Most of them," he responded.

"This kind of magic is dark," Missouri muttered. "Messing with someone's memories...it's very dangerous magic. The skill needed to not only block out the real memories but replace them indicates this is a very old witch. This type of magic isn't common these days."

"Demons?" Sam asked.

Missouri shook her head. "Older."

"Demons?" you squeaked out. "Demons are real too?"

Dean rubbed your arms comfortingly. "Yeah, sweetheart, but we don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "How do I know what memories are real and which ones aren't?"

Missouri stood up and took your hands, forcing Dean to release you. She looked into your eyes, gaze extremely focused. After several moments she spoke. "Your childhood is intact up until your parents' deaths. Everything else up until three weeks ago is a false memory."

"Fourteen years?" you gasped. "Fourteen years of my life is a lie?"

Dean could see you start to spiral, instinctively reaching for you to try to ground you. "Baby, baby, hey--hey...focus on me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay."

Your eyes met his and your breathing began to slow once again. His warm gaze brought you back to earth, calming you in a way only he could. You felt calm--you felt safe. "Thank you," you whispered.

He pulled you into him for a tight a hug, placing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

Both Sam and Missouri felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Missouri gestured for Sam to follow her out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.

You looked up at him. "I think so. It's--it's a lot to take in."

"I know, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but everything we've told you is true."

"What happened three weeks ago, Dean?"

"What I told you before was true, but I left out a few details. We were on a hunt...a routine haunting. At least that's what we thought it was. When we got there, it was dark inside and it smelled like rotting corpses. It was strange, but not exactly out of the ordinary for a haunting. I went into a room ahead of you and I was knocked unconscious by something--I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up, you were gone."

"Could a--a witch do that?"

Dean nodded. "Easily. Especially if they're as powerful as Missouri thinks they are."

"So what do we do?"

"We find a way to restore your memories...then we hunt this witch down and find out why they targeted you."

"What if we can't?"

"Oh we'll find the witch. Don't worry."

You shook your head. "What if we can't get my memories back?"

Dean's expression betrayed his fear, if only for a second. "There has to be a way. There has to."

"There is," Missouri stated as she reentered the room with Sam in tow. "But it won't be pleasant."

"Can you do it?" Dean asked.

"I'm a psychic, Dean, not a witch."

Dean looked crestfallen.

"But I know someone who can help."

Dean looked back up. "Who?"

"Her name is Bethelia Logan. She's a very old, very powerful witch."

"Absolutely not!" Dean yelled instantly. "I'm not taking (Y/N) to a witch."

"Don't yell at me, child. Do you want her memories back or not?"

Dean started to argue again, but you placed a gentle hand to his chest, silencing him. "Do you trust her?"

Missouri nodded. "I would never send you to someone I didn't trust." She pointed at Dean. "You should know that."

Dean looked down in shame. He hated witches--hated them with everything in his soul. His hatred existed long before this moment...but now that he knew a witch had stolen your memories? He'd kill every witch on earth if he could.

"Where can we find this Bethelia Logan?" Sam asked.

"She lives in the mountains of Montana. Partially for the nature and partially for the privacy. She's not particularly friendly to strangers, but if you tell her I sent you, she'll help you."

"Are you sure she'll help us?" Dean asked.

"I'll send her a message. She'll help."

Dean looked down at you, wanting the decision to be yours and yours alone.

"You have her address?" you asked, a resigned smile on your face.

Missouri gave Dean the address and wished him luck. She said her goodbyes to the boys before sending them out the door. She stopped you before you could leave, wanting to say something in private.

"You are a strong woman, (Y/N). I have always thought that. You will need all your strength to get through this, if you choose to go through with it."

"What do you mean, 'if'?"

"The magic used to take your memories was very powerful black magic...and it will take very powerful black magic to reverse it. Such magic is dangerous for the user and for the person it is used on."

Realization dawned on your face. "Will I survive it?"

Missouri's expression softened, sadness darkening her gaze. "I don't know, honey, but it will likely be the most painful experience of your life. Which is why it must be your choice to go through with it. Yours, (Y/N)--yours alone."

You looked towards the Impala where Dean and Sam waited for you. You turned back to look at Missouri, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "Thank you for telling me."

"I love those boys like family, just as I love you, but Dean isn't like a normal man. He loves more deeply than anyone I have ever known--there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Don't tell him what I've told you, (Y/N). He won't let you make this choice on your own if you do...not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to lose you."

Tears filled your eyes as you regarded the older woman. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know how much he loves me. I know what he would do for me. I need to remember why--desperately."

Missouri sighed quietly. "You've always loved that boy more than he believes he deserves, but in truth, he deserves all of your love. I've never met two people more perfect for one another--even if you never remember your lives together, I know you will love him that much again."

You nodded, allowing her words to wash over you. You knew in your heart she was right--you could see yourself falling in love with him, so it didn't surprise you that she believed it too. "Thank you, Missouri. For everything."

"You are so welcome, (Y/N) Winchester. Now go--and be safe."

You gave her a tight hug before walking away to join your husband and his brother on what would turn out to be the most harrowing journey of your life.

**********

It was a 16 hour drive from Missouri's home to Bethelia's home in Montana. You were quiet for most of the ride, reflecting on everything that had happened, as well as Missouri's final words to you. You half-listened to Sam and Dean's conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. You knew you had an important decision to make--one you apparently had to make entirely on your own.

Dean noticed your quiet demeanor and it worried him more than he cared to admit. He had to wonder what Missouri had said to you before you'd left, but he didn't want to press you for answers.

"Sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?" Dean suggested softly. "I'm gonna drive through the night."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you asked softly.

"We do it all the time. Don't worry," he assured you.

Sam nodded his agreement. "If he gets tired, I'll take over."

"Over my cold dead corpse," Dean grumbled.

You laughed lightly and Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll try and get some sleep."

You turned your body slightly, leaning your head against the car window. You tried to get comfortable, but the cold metal and freezing window made that impossible.

Dean noticed your discomfort, watching you shift back and forth for several minutes. "Hey baby," he said softly, getting your attention. You turned to look in his direction.

"Come here, use my shoulder." You looked up at him and he offered you a gentle smile. "I can tell you're uncomfortable."

You angled your body to lean across the seat, resting your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, finally finding a comfortable position. You were asleep within minutes. Dean glanced down at you and smiled before placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Sam watched the interaction from the backseat, a mixture of sadness and joy weighing on him. He was glad Dean had found you, but he was terrified of what would happen when they made it to Montana. Sam wasn't stupid...and he knew a lot more about magic than his brother did. He knew it was going to be extremely dangerous to try and fix your memories, and he worried it wouldn't end well. He didn't want to mention his concerns to Dean as he didn't want to scare him. He knew exactly what his brother was like when someone he loved was in danger.

You awoke several hours later to rays of morning sun shining through the windshield. Your head was still resting against Dean's shoulder and he felt you stir slowly.

"Good morning beautiful," Dean whispered softly.

You looked up at him with a smile. "Mornin'." You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and stretched.

You felt Dean's gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. "What?"

"Nothin'."

You raised your eyebrows. "Then why're you looking at me like that?"

He smiled. "You're just so beautiful," he said softly. "I can't help but stare."

You blushed and looked away from him. "Not this early in the morning," you mumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Nice try, sweetheart. You're beautiful 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 366 during leap year." He shot you a wink, which only caused your blush to deepen.

"You're too much," you giggled softly.

He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You're just right."

"What did I do to deserve you?" you asked softly.

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Deserve me? Other way around, baby."

You shook your head. "I don't think so."

He glanced over at you again. "There's a lot you don't remember, (Y/N/N). Trust me when I say I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"That's not what Missouri thinks."

"Huh?"

"She told me you think you don't deserve me, but she said you deserve all the love I have to give. She thinks very highly of you, you know."

The look of surprise covered his face again. "I think highly of her too."

You smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. He looked over at you with a smile. "I can see why I fell in love with you."

His heart skipped a beat, hearing your words had a profound effect on him. "I'm still not sure how I won you over, but I'll always be grateful for your love."

You leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to remember everything," you whispered.

He shot you a warm smile, but it quickly faded to sadness.

"Dean?" you murmured.

"I know what we're going to do is extremely dangerous. I'm no fool, (Y/N/N)...I know Missouri warned you. I don't want you to do anything out of some sort of obligation to me, okay? I would rather die than lose you."

You touched his cheek gently. "I didn't want to worry you."

"I know. I'm willing to bet she told you not to tell me anyway."

Your mirthless chuckle was confirmation enough. "For the record, any decision I make is because it's what I want to do...and I need you to respect my decision."

Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. "I'll try."

You shook your head. "It's not a request, Dean."

He sighed. "I know you can't remember...but I'm not good at these types of situations. I tend to be a little reckless when someone I love is at risk."

"Missouri may have mentioned that too."

Dean chuckled. "Of course she did."

Sam began to stir in the backseat, a loud yawn alerting you both to his consciousness. "We there yet?" he mumbled.

Dean laughed. "We've still got another 4 hours or so."

"You want me to drive?"

"No one but my baby gets to drive Baby."

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Did you just call the car 'Baby'?" you asked.

"The three things I love most in this world are, you, Sammy, and this car."

You laughed heartily, rekindling Sam's laughter and sparking Dean's laughter. You might not be able to remember it, but you knew deep in your soul that these two people were your family--and somehow you loved them even without the memories to back it up.

**********

It was mid-afternoon when the three of you finally pulled up in front of a small house in middle-of-nowhere Montana.

"Do you think Missouri called her?" Dean asked.

"We better hope so," you murmured, pointing at the various signs in the yard warning people not to trespass.

"Yikes," Sam muttered.

Dean sighed and got out of the car, you and Sam following close behind. Before Dean could raise his hand to knock on the front door, it opened to reveal a surprisingly young-looking woman.

"Can you read?" the woman snapped.

"Missouri Moseley sent us," Sam said quickly.

The woman's expression softened immediately. "Well why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"

You followed her inside and she gestured for you to have a seat in her small living room. The three of you sat down beside each other on the small couch.

"I'm Bethelia," the woman said as she sat in a chair across from you. "You must be the Winchesters."

The three of you nodded.

Bethelia looked at you closely. "I see you've been touched by black magic."

You nodded slowly. "So I've been told."

"Can you help her?" Dean asked.

Bethelia hummed quietly. "I can, but I am not certain you'll want me to."

"Missouri warned me it would dangerous."

She nodded. "This type of magic is very strong. I cannot guarantee you will survive."

Dean froze beside you and you blindly reached out to grab his hand. You squeezed it reassuringly. "What do I have to do?"

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded.

Bethelia watched you carefully. "You have to be willing to risk everything to retrieve your memories. As you are now, you can make new memories with the ones you love, even if you cannot remember the past. But if you choose to work with me, your life may be forfeit."

You'd spent every waking hour since leaving Missouri's thinking about what you would do. Now, faced with the question, you found you knew your answer without a shadow of a doubt. "I'm willing to risk it."

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded a second time. "You said it yourself--we can make new memories...we can fall in love all over again."

You turned to look into your husband's bright green eyes, both of which swirled with emotions the depths of which you couldn't even begin to understand. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

Bethelia rose, immediately understanding what you needed. Sam took a second longer, but quickly followed Bethelia from the room, leaving you and Dean alone.

Dean immediately rose from his seat and began to pace. "You can't do this, (Y/N). It's not worth the risk."

"It's my decision, Dean. I don't need your permission, but I would like your support."

"I can't give you that--I can't...I can't lose you."

You stood up and grabbed his hands, stopping him in front of you. "I know it's hard, but it's worth it to me--it's worth the risk. I need to remember, Dean. It's my life and if the last few days are anything to go by, then I'd give anything to remember the last eleven years with you. Anything."

He looked down at you, finally allowing the tears to slide down his face. Your heart broke as you took in his pained expression, fear evident in his gaze. "I want to remember everything about you--every moment, every heartbreak, every painful memory, every joyful second, every loving embrace. I want to remember what it's like to love you--and be loved by you."

You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and you found yourself wishing you could take away his pain. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live a lie--you needed the truth and the only way to get that was to restore your memories.

"I need to remember."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. He would have traded places with you in a heartbeat, sold his soul to save you, set fire to the world to keep you out of harm's way...but he couldn't do any of those things. He was powerless to protect you and it was killing him.

"I know you're strong," he whispered. "but baby, I'm terrified."

"I know," you murmured. "I know."

You rose up on your tiptoes, gently pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss--a kiss you tried to infuse with every complicated emotion you'd felt in the last several days. His body instinctively melted into yours like you were made for each other--like you'd done it a thousand times before.

When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours. "I need you to trust me," you whispered.

Dean closed his eyes. "I trust you."

You exhaled shakily as you pulled away from him. It was killing him, but he couldn't make this decision for you--all he could do was give you the one thing you asked for.

"I support whatever decision you make...and I love you," he said softly. "I'll always love you."

You hadn't really expected him to support you, so hearing him say those words gave you an added boost of strength you didn't know you needed. You touched his cheek one last time before walking away in search of Bethelia.

"You are ready," the witch said from the doorway, her words a confirmation, not a query.

You nodded. "Let's do this."

Sam went to his brother's side, giving him a reassuring clap on the back. There wasn't really anything for him to say, but his presence was enough to calm Dean.

Bethelia turned to address the two men. "No matter what happens, you must not interrupt the spell. If you do, you risk her mind as well as her life. Do you understand?"

They both nodded.

"It will be painful," she said to you.

"I know," you whispered.

She simply nodded and gestured for you to follow. She guided you to a dimly lit room filled with hundreds of candles. The room was obviously home to a large amount of spell work, but much of the space had been cleared to make room for a large mat in the center of the floor.

"Lie down, (Y/N)."

You did as she asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"You may wait in the hall," Bethelia addressed Sam and Dean. "Do not cross the threshold. Do not interrupt the spell. Do nothing."

You turned to make eye contact with Dean. "I'll be alright."

He nodded, desperate to believe you. "I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you whispered back.

"Let's begin," Bethelia said, silencing any further conversation.

You closed your eyes and sent out a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening--a prayer for strength, for survival. It was the last coherent thought you had before your mind was overwhelmed with a blinding pain you couldn't describe.

Sam and Dean watched from outside the room as you writhed in pain, cries of agony ripped from your throat as Bethelia worked her magic.

"I can't watch this," Dean gasped out, turning on his heels and practically running for the front door.

Even outside, he could hear your screams--each one like a knife to his heart. He didn't know how long he stood there, he had long since lost count of your screams, the seconds between them all but disappearing.

Sam had remained inside, standing watch over you as best he could. Much like Dean, his chest ached with each of your screams--he hated seeing you in so much pain.

After what felt like an eternity, silence fell on the small home--a silence more deafening than any scream. Dean waited for a few moments before running back into the house, terrified of what he would find.

When your limp body came into view, he tried to enter the room--tried to reach you, but Sam grabbed him and held him back. "Dean, you can't! She's not done!"

Dean struggled against his brother's hold, every instinct dying to go to you. He watched in terror as you remained still as death, not a single sound escaping your sweet lips.

"(Y/N/N)..." he whimpered.

Bethelia's chanting had ceased, her small form kneeling beside your body as if waiting for something.

Unbeknownst to anyone in the home, a war was raging inside your mind--a battle between who you were and who you believed yourself to be. Memories were fighting for their rightful place in your mind--false and real, a distinction your fragile psyche couldn't make.

The only thing you knew for sure was your name: (Y/N) Winchester. You knew it with the same conviction that you knew gravity was real. Your certainty gave way to another: Dean Winchester was the love of your life. Flashes of moments from the past few days flew through your mind, but the ones you focused on where the memories you didn't recall.

You saw the joyful moments filled with laughter and jokes, the painful moments filled with tears and loss, the passionate moments with nothing between your bodies but sweat and desire, and the loving moments that grounded you--kept you from giving up even when life was unbearable.

You felt his love for you wash over you in waves, drowning you in an ocean of passion you didn't wish to escape from. But then you felt your love for him, the depths of which you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Whatever you'd imagined you'd felt for him paled in comparison to reality--he was tied to your soul so completely you wondered how it was possible to have lived without his memory for more than a moment.

As these memories and emotions solidified within you, the false memories began to fade away, replaced by the real ones that had been locked away in the darkest recesses of your mind. Millions of memories flooded your mind, filling the gaps in your life, making you whole once more.

Dean, Sam, and Bethelia watched in silence, waiting for something to happen. Dean wasn't even certain you were breathing, but he was terrified to ask...he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Bethelia began to look more and more crestfallen as time went on, the minutes ticking by in painful silence. Sam's gaze was focused on her, praying her expression would turn hopeful once again.

Dean's gaze, on the other hand, was focused entirely on you--on your face. He was looking for any sign of movement, of life...anything to calm his aching heart.

An hour had passed since the spell had begun...twenty minutes of silence had stretched on after your screams had ended. They were the longest twenty minutes of Dean's life.

He had begun to lose hope--fearing the worst, but afraid to voice it. Suddenly, you gasped for air, bolting upright as you sucked in gulps of oxygen. Dean ran to you, breaking free of his brother's relaxed grip--not giving a damn if he was allowed to enter the room or not.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out to grab your face. "(Y/N)? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Your eyes met his and his breath caught in his chest. Those sweet (y/e/c) eyes he loved so much were full of recognition--full of love. "Dean," you whispered hoarsely.

He wrapped you in a hug so tightly you thought he might squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You were squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling at home in his arms.

He leaned back to look at your face again, brushing your hair back to see you more clearly. He hadn't realized how different you'd looked when your memories were gone--not until this moment. As he looked at you, he noticed all the little things he hadn't taken the time to pay attention to before. Your skin seemed to glow with love and warmth, your eyes sparkled more brilliantly than they had in the past few days, and your smile was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively, needing to hear the confirmation from your lips.

"I remember," you whispered softly, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

He wrapped his arms around you again, tugging you close, and kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. The moment was so pure, so full of love, that both Sam and Bethelia were moved by it. The love the two of you shared was beyond what an average person would ever experience--incomprehensible to most.

When you finally separated, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. "You scared me for a minute," he admitted.

"I told you I'd be okay," you murmured. "Have a little faith, my love."

He smiled. "God I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Dean finally pulled away from you and rose to his feet. He took your hand in his and helped you up, your body still weak from the intensity of the spell.

You smiled warmly at the two people standing a few feet away. "Hey Sammy. Miss me?"

Sam grinned and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. "Of course I did."

When he stepped back, you addressed Bethelia. "I can't thank you enough."

Bethelia smiled and gestured between you and Dean. "This right here? This is thanks enough. It has been a long time since I've witnessed a love this pure. I feel honored to have been able to witness it again."

You looked up at Dean as he smiled down at you. He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him. "I feel honored to be able to experience it--especially knowing what it's like to live without it."

"I know the feeling," he murmured.

"Not to bring the mood down, but I remember what happened in Colorado," you said softly.

Sam and Dean looked at you, both waiting to hear what you recalled.

"I saw you on the floor--unconscious--and I let my guard down. I was terrified you were dead...that's when she got me."

"The witch," Dean stated quietly.

You nodded. "She knew my name--knew yours too. All she told me was she wanted you to pay. She didn't explain what she meant."

"Why the hell did she target you if she wanted me to pay?"

"She had to have known what losing me would do to you--that it would hurt you more deeply than anything she could ever have done to you directly."

Dean felt a mixture of sorrow and anger. No one was going to get away with hurting you, not as long as he drew breath.

"All I remember after that was the pain...so much pain. Then I woke up in a house in a city I've never lived in before with a whole life I didn't remember. But as far as I was concerned, that was my life. It felt so real--up until the day you waltzed in."

Dean reached out and touched your face. "Anyone who dares hurt you is destined for a short life."

You'd known he'd want to kill the witch, and to be honest, you didn't blame him. Hunting monsters was your life--and this witch certainly counted as one. "We'll find her Dean."

"Damn right we will. I'll put a bullet right through her skull. See how she likes having her mind messed with."

You placed a gentle hand to your husband's arm, trying to calm him. "For now, let's just focus on the good things. I have my memories back and I'm with you. That's what matters."

Dean nodded and offered you a weak smile. "You're right, baby. You're right."

You turned to Bethelia with a smile, thanking her once again, as did Sam and Dean. You were surprised when Dean gave the witch a hug--he wasn't an affectionate man by nature, especially with strangers, but she'd saved your life in his estimation...so she got a pass.

"You're the only witch I've ever liked," Dean commented as the three of you prepared to leave.

Bethelia laughed. "There are others like me out there, I can assure you. We're not all monsters, hunter."

Dean nodded. "Perhaps not."

You grabbed his hand and tugged it gently as you started toward the Impala. "Come on, handsome. It's time to go."

The three of you piled into the car, waving goodbye to Bethelia as you pulled away.

"I'm so ready to go home," you mumbled with a yawn.

"Me too, baby."

"Me three," Sam added.

"Do you want to stop at a motel to rest?" you asked softly.

Dean's gaze rested on your face, drinking it in like he was scared he'd forget it. "Not a chance, sweetheart. I wanna get you home as quickly as possible."

The hungry look in his eyes belied his hidden meaning and you silently hoped Sam didn't notice. "Try not to drive too fast," you teased.

"I would never," he said in mock offense. He pressed firmly on the accelerator and the Impala shot down the road at an assuredly illegal speed.

You laughed and shook your head, knowing full-well Dean would get you home in one piece, even if it was a little faster than it should be.

**********

Fourteen hours later, you were back home in your beloved bunker in Lawrence, Kansas. What should have taken nearly sixteen hours, was shortened by Dean's intense desire to get home.

"Oh I missed this place," you said with a smile as you entered.

"You didn't even remember it existed until a few hours ago," Dean chided.

"I missed it without even knowing what I was missing...kinda like I missed you," you teased back.

He smiled, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not nearly as much as I missed you."

You leaned back into him. "That could be because you actually remembered me."

"There's not a chance in hell I could forget you." He pressed gentle kisses to your neck down to your shoulder.

"As happy as I am to have you back," Sam interrupted. "Could you two get a room?" His voice was light and teasing, which made you laugh.

"Oh come on, Sammy--it's nothing you haven't seen before," Dean said with a grin. "Just a man loving his gorgeous wife."

Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll go get my noise canceling headphones. You two have fun getting reacquainted."

You watched Sam walk off towards his bedroom, a small smile playing on your face.

"So you think we should get...reacquainted?" Dean murmured against the shell of your ear.

"Aren't you exhausted from all the driving?"

"I'm never too tired for you, baby."

You turned around to face him, leaning into his strong body. "I think you should take me to bed then, Mr. Winchester."

"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Winchester." Dean slipped his arms under your round bottom, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you closely as he carried you towards your shared bedroom.

As he made his way to your room, you spent every second pressing kisses to his face sweetly, tangling your fingers in his short hair.

"You better stop that or I might take you right here on the table," he growled lowly.

"It's not like we haven't before," you giggled.

Dean groaned. "I don't wanna scar Sam for life--otherwise, I'd have you on every surface in this damn bunker."

"Maybe later then," you murmured as you kissed his neck affectionately.

Dean moved more quickly, the need to get you into his bed becoming overwhelming. As soon as he made it into the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, pressing you against it as he attached his lips to yours hungrily.

You gasped slightly before returning his passionate kiss. You tugged on his jacket, silently begging him to remove it. He pulled away just long enough to rip his jacket and flannel off before kissing you again.

His strong hands slid up under your shirt, moving upwards to tug it off over your head. His lithe fingers unsnapped your bra with practiced ease and pulled it forward to reveal the swell of your breasts.

"I've missed these," he murmured, lips immediately finding their home between the valley of your breasts. He took his time nipping and sucking at each one, playing with your nipples just the way you liked.

Your fingers dug into his scalp as you held him close to you, reveling in the feeling of his lips on your body. Your core pulsed with aching need, but you ignored it as best you could. You didn't want to rush him...not after all this time apart.

Dean loved how soft you felt against his toned form--he couldn't describe how much he'd missed touching you so intimately. This wasn't the first time the two of you had been torn apart from each other, but it had been the toughest time for him.

He felt your soft hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to remove it. Dean smirked against your skin before turning around and tossing you onto the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, giving you a clear view of his impressive torso.

He started to climb onto the bed, but you stopped him. "Pants too, please."

He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"

You shook your head. "I just want to see your perfect body on display--just for me."

He raised his eyebrows, but did as you asked, removing his pants slowly, eyes locked on yours.

You could see his hard member straining against his boxers, practically begging to be touched. You crawled across the bed, coming closer to him, eyes trained on your target.

"Whatcha doin' baby?"

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, tongue darting out to dampen your lips. "Wanna taste you."

Dean exhaled sharply, but there was no way he was going to say no to your request. He watched as you rolled over onto your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. His breath caught in his chest as he realized your intentions. "You sure?" he whispered.

You grinned cheekily. "Come on pretty boy--use me."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, quickly ridding himself of his last article of clothing. He gripped his large cock tightly in his right hand and stepped forward. He tapped against your mouth gently. "Open wide, sweetheart."

You happily obliged, mouth opening as wide as you could to accommodate his size. He slid slowly into your warm, wet mouth, groaning softly at the feeling.

You made a little noise of pleasure, wrapping your hands around his muscular thighs to get more comfortable and pull him even closer to you.

Dean's motions started out slow, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling of you, listening to the delicious sounds you were making. Within moments, he'd begun fucking your face properly, obscene sounds escaping his lips.

"Fuck--that's it baby. S-so good for me."

You moaned happily, fingers digging into his skin as you continued to take him deep in your throat. He leaned forward to grab at your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples as he thrust, which only increased your enjoyment.

Dean felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum just yet. He eased his cock out of your mouth and took a step back, chuckling softly at your whine.

"Don't worry, baby--I'm nowhere near done." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your messy lips before rising back up to his full height. "Get comfortable, sweetheart--it's my turn."

You quickly rotated your body so your head rested comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Dean wasted no time joining you on the bed, quickly unsnapping your jeans before pulling them off along with your panties.

He wedged himself between your legs, lowering himself to lie flat on the bed. He inhaled deeply, face mere inches from your aching pussy.

"You smell delicious, baby--can't wait to taste you."

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, running a thick stripe up your pussy before sliding between your lips to begin his assault.

Your hips shot off the bed, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He didn't want you to be able to squirm away while he gave you as much pleasure as he could.

Your fingers entwined in his hair as he ate you out like it was the last thing he'd ever do. It felt so incredibly good and your moans of pleasure spurred him on.

"D--feels s-so good."

He moaned into your core, the vibrations making you cry out in pleasure. He sped up his ministrations, years of practice with you making him an expert on your body.

"So close," you whimpered.

Dean slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your g-spot rapidly. Within moments, your orgasm crashed into you with violent intensity, hips jacking off the bed despite Dean's attempts to hold you in place. He kept up with your movements, not stopping until you pulled him up by his hair.

He licked his lips with a smirk, enjoying the lingering taste of you. His normally bright green eyes were dark with arousal as he looked at your blissed out face. He hovered over you, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize every inch of it, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You loved the feeling of his strong body against yours, enjoying the warmth emanating from his heated skin.

"I need you, (Y/N/N)," he whispered against your lips. "Please."

"Wanna feel you inside me, Dean--make me forget my own name."

He growled lowly. "I can do that for you, baby. Only thing you'll be able to say is my name."

You moaned softly, lifting your hips to press against his, earning a sharp inhale from his lips. He slipped his cock in between your folds, entering you completely with one harsh thrust.

You cried out at the feeling of fullness, slight pain mixing with the pleasure. No matter how many times you'd made love to this man, he never failed to make you feel incredible. Every time was like the first time in the first few moments, before quickly morphing into an unforgettable experience with someone who knew your body better than you did.

"Move baby--please," you begged.

He always waited for a few moments, never wanting to cause you any undue pain, but as soon as those words left your mouth, he began to thrust into you in earnest.

"Shit, sweetheart--missed this sweet little pussy. Squeezing me so good, feels like heaven."

"Harder, Dean--please."

Dean shifted his body to give you what you needed, thrusts now deeper and faster than before. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly that bruises were sure to appear.

Your moans reverberated throughout the room, spurring Dean on. His own noises were absolutely sinful--and you loved hearing them. Your nails dug into his muscular back, trying desperately to ground yourself in the sea of pleasure.

You felt your orgasm approaching and you voiced as much to Dean, who was already well-aware.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."

You whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he continued his measured thrusts. "Dean..."

"I've got you, gorgeous. Let go for me."

You cried out in pleasure as your second orgasm washed over you, body shaking beneath his, waves of pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Dean worked you through your high, waiting until your body stopped shaking before gently rolling you onto your stomach. You tried to lift your hips to accommodate him, but he gently pressed you back down into the mattress.

"I've got this baby girl, just get comfortable."

He slid into you, laying his body on top of you, covering you like a heated blanket. The angle of his thrusts instantly sent you spiraling--body trembling beneath him.

"Fuck, sweetheart--how's this pussy still so fuckin' tight?" he growled in your ear.

You were clenching him tightly, intense pleasure slamming into your core with each thrust he made. You could hardly breathe--the pleasure already so blinding.

"You're close again, aren't you? I can feel it, baby," Dean murmured against your neck.

You couldn't do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. He was right--you were on the brink of another blinding orgasm.

"I wanna fill this sweet pussy up, baby--but I can't do that until you cum for me."

You whimpered softly, Dean's thrusts continuing.

"Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"Don't stop--" you gasped.

Dean continued his motions, not changing a single thing. He knew you were close--all you needed was a little push. His lips were so close to your shoulder, brushing softly against your skin. On a particularly hard thrust, Dean bit into your shoulder blade, drawing a scream of pleasure from your throat as you came around him.

He slowed his motions, not quite ready to cum, but not wanting to stop. He kissed the bite mark gently, making sure you felt his love for you in each kiss.

When you'd come down from your high, Dean eased you onto your back, cock still buried deep inside you. He began slow, gentle thrusts, waiting for you to refocus on him.

After several moments, your eyes finally met his and he smiled warmly. "There you are."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I'm right here, baby."

"Want you to fill me up," you begged softly.

Dean groaned. "You keep squeezing me and looking at me like that and I'm a goner."

You gave him a weak smile and clenched your pussy as tightly as you could. He gasped softly, hips stuttering slightly.

"Cum for me, Dean--please."

"Gonna f-fill you up, baby...s-so close."

You wrapped your weak legs around him, holding him against you. You placed a gentle palm against his cheek, forcing him to continue looking at your loving expression.

His thrusts had become sloppy and his breathing labored. A few more thrusts and he exploded inside of you, cries of pleasure leaving his lips as he filled you up. His spend leaked out of you as his thrusts began to slow to a halt, lips pressing into your sweaty skin in gentle kisses.

"I love you," he whispered repeatedly. "So, so much."

Finally, Dean collapsed on top of you, softening member still inside of you. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, entangled together comfortably. You held him tightly, almost afraid to let go.

Dean slowly began to lift himself off of you, leaving you cold and empty. You whimpered softly, reaching for him as he got off the bed.

He turned to you and smiled. "I'm coming right back, baby. I promise."

He moved slowly towards the sink in the corner of the room before returning with a warm, wet washcloth to clean your mixed spends from between your legs. Each touch made you shiver, but his gentle voice grounded you.

"I've got you, baby. Almost done."

Once he'd finished, he tossed the washcloth across the room before crawling back into bed with you. He laid down beside you and tugged you into him. You angled your body to lay your head on his chest.

The two of you laid in silence for so long you began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He had to be tired after that drive and the exertion of your love making, so you didn't blame him.

Just as you began to drift off to sleep yourself, you heard Dean's soft voice. “Babe? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Do you want that normal, apple pie kinda life?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head against his chest. “Absolutely not."

“Really? Not even a little?”

You looked up at him, expression softening. “Not even a little. I happen to love our life. I love living in a weird underground bunker. I love driving all over god’s green earth in our ancient Impala. I love staying in seedy motels and eating shitty diner food. I love saving people and hunting monsters. Do you know why?”

He shook his head.

“Because I get to do it all with you.”

He smiled at you, gaze exceptionally tender.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better than this beautiful, messy life of ours.”

He leaned in to kiss you sweetly. “I love you so damn much, baby.”

“I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always.”

You settled back against his warm chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. You knew tomorrow would bring another battle, another problem to solve, but for right now, you were exactly where you needed to be--in the arms of the man you loved with all your soul, feeling safe and loved...finally home.

[k-dgn]

Chapter 2: The First Test

13k Words

Time seemed to pass by in a blur. You wanted to make sure you were prepared, so you spent every waking moment trying to come up with as many different ideas and concepts as possible that you wanted to pitch to Mina hoping you would find something she would like. A few days later, you finally got the long awaited text from Sana telling you where and when to meet.

On the day of the meeting you arrived early, wanting to leave a good impression. Sana had chosen a different café than the one at the JYP building you had met her at previously. It was pretty low-key as far as storefronts were concerned, and was two stories tall. The upstairs even had a secluded loft area perfectly suited for your planned get-together. After getting your drink and making your way up, you sat down on the couch and let out an anxious sigh. You then pulled out your phone and messaged Sana.

Y/N: Hey! Just letting you know I'm here already, waiting upstairs.

SN: Ok! We’ll be there soon ✌️

A few minutes passed by but they felt like hours. Eventually, you heard footsteps coming from the stairs, as well as the sound of that signature giggle that could only be coming from none other than Sana. You turned to face the stairs just as they were coming up. Sana was wearing a tight-fitting pink top that exposed her perfectly toned midriff and a pair of equally tight-fitting jeans.

Following closely behind her was Mina, wearing a long-sleeved striped knit top, black leather skirt, and black knee-high socks. Both girls wore hats and face masks in an attempt to hide their identities from the public, but one look into either of their eyes would have given them away in an instant.

You took one last nervous deep breath before waving from your seat to call them over. Sana quickly spotted you and started to make her way over, Mina in tow. As they approached, they removed their masks while you rose from your seat and got up to greet them. You opened your arms, a cue Sana took up almost immediately.

“You're early this time!” Sana exclaimed as she came up to hug you. “...Why weren't you this early when you met me for the first time, huh?” Even now, the girl just loved to mess with you. You rolled your eyes and tried to laugh it off.

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to leave a good impression this time around.” You replied with a cheeky grin. Sana pulled away and stuck her tongue out at you before laughing again. She then stepped back in order to introduce you to the other girl who was just watching everything unfold. Her hands were covered by her long sleeves, and she had brought them up to her face, cutely covering her mouth. 

“Y/N, this is Mina,” Sana said as she nudged Mina’s arm. “Mina, Y/N!”

You extended a hand and put on the best smile you could. Mina’s eyes turned to crescent moons as she reached out a hand to shake yours.

“It's nice to meet you, Mina. Thank you for meeting with me today!” You said confidently. You shake her sleeve covered hand, and couldn't help but to notice that she had the gentlest touch.

“Nice to finally meet you too,” she replied, quickly eyeing you up and down before lowering her hand. She was so soft-spoken you almost had trouble hearing her, so you mentally noted to pay extra attention whenever she spoke. “You know, I've heard a lot about you from Sana.” 

“Ah…good things, I hope?” you say, your eyes darting to Sana for a moment who was smiling while holding up a peace sign. Mina just laughed and nodded as the three of you sat down around the coffee table.

The next bit of time was spent going over the list of ideas you had prepared on your phone. Mina was sitting across from you, legs crossed with her elbows on the table and one hand resting on her chin. Her eyes were locked on you the entire time as you led the conversation. You started by asking her what sort of vibe she wanted to go with for the shoot and went from there, detailing your ideas and seeing what she was receptive to. Though she didn't speak much at all, she would nod cutely and smile whenever she did like something. Whenever she did want to voice an opinion you made sure to listen close, taking down notes throughout the entire process.

Meanwhile, Sana was sitting back in her chair next to Mina. Every now and then Mina would turn to ask Sana for her opinion on something and she’d give it, but for the most part Sana was content in letting the two of you hash out business. She was more curious to ask Mina about some other things later anyway.

30 minutes of discussion later, you felt satisfied with the info you'd gathered from your meeting. You put your phone away and smiled back at the two girls. “Alright, I think I can work with these ideas. I can let you know as soon as I have the final draft proposal ready. It shouldn't take more than a few days if that's alright with you?”

“Yeah, that's ok with me” Mina says, flashing you a glimpse of her gummy smile before she quickly covers it with her hand. You smile back and let out a nervous chuckle. For someone as visually stunning on stage as Mina, getting the chance to see this side of her up close was nothing short of breathtaking for you. Sana notices the way you look back at Mina and knowingly smiles to herself.

“Great! Thanks again for meeting with me today. Unfortunately I have to get back to my studio now to finish up some prints for another client today. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

Mina shakes her head then turns to look at Sana. Sana looks at the two of you and satisfied with the way the meeting turned out, clasps her hands together proudly. “Nope! I think you guys covered just about everything. Mina, do you want to give him your number or should I?”

Mina smiles back then reaches into her purse to get her phone. She hands it over to you and you input your info before handing it back to her with a smile of your own. You then collect your things and bow slightly toward the girls before bidding them farewell and heading towards the stairs. Once you were out of earshot, Sana looks back over and playfully nudges Mina’s side jolting her out of her trance. Unbeknownst to you, she'd been looking in your direction the whole time as you left.

“Sooo, what do you think?” Sana asks smugly.

“He's...very nice," Mina shyly says with a soft giggle. "I think working with him will be a lot of fun.”

Sana then starts rocking back and forth in place. “Right…and what about the “other” thing we talked about?” Sana asks with a grin, obviously trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

Mina knowingly tilts her head and turns to face Sana, mirroring her cheeky attitude. She knew exactly where Sana was going with her question. 

“Oh…” Mina sighed. “Yeah. He's hot.”

—

The next day, you were back in your studio putting the last touches on your latest project. You had told yourself that after this job was finished, you'd be free to devote all of your time towards working on the draft proposal for Mina and her shoot. You honestly couldn't wait to get back to working on that, so you rushed to finish what you’d started. After one final look-through, you decided that you were happy with the final product and sent it off. You slumped back in your chair, yawning as you stretched out your arms. You'd just spent the entire day working, so suffice to say you were feeling exhausted. Still, you were content to know that you'd now be able to fully shift your focus over to Mina and her project now. As luck would have it, your phone chimed with a new text. You reached over to see a message from an unknown number.

MN: Hey, it's Mina. You wouldn't happen to be busy right now, would you? I had a couple more ideas I wanted to run by you.

Y/N: Hey! You caught me at a good time actually, I just finished up work for the day. What’d you wanna talk about?

MN: Actually, would you want to meet up then? I think it'd be better to talk about it in person.

You took a brief pause before responding. You were a bit taken back because the timing couldn't have worked out any better for you. After collecting yourself, you start to type again.

Y/N: Sure, just let me know where!

Mina then forwarded you an address and said you were free to come whenever. Not wanting to keep her waiting too long, you quickly gathered your things before closing up shop and hopping in your car.

—

Mina was looking at herself in the mirror, trying out various poses and angles. In truth, she had ulterior motives in inviting you over to her place that night, spurred on by a conversation she’d had with Sana earlier in the day over text before she ended up messaging you. She thought back to that as she continued adjusting her outfit.

SN: Stop thinking too hard and just call him! I promise you he’s really fun. Besides, I wouldn't share him with you if I didn't think you'd have a great time.

MN: Ugh, I know it's just…Idk, won't he be weirded out if I come on too strong? It's not like I do stuff like this as often as you do…

SN: Oh, Mina. Trust me, that’ll be the last thing he's thinking about when he sees you. I know how you are and I know he can handle you 😉

Back in the present, she struck one more pose before cringing at herself. At that moment, she decided that she’d put off her original plan and would instead wait and get to know you a little better. Just as she was about to start changing, she heard her doorbell ring. In a panic, she quickly threw a sweater over her outfit before scurrying to answer her door.

—

You were about to reach for the doorbell again when you heard the door unlock and open slightly. From behind the door, Mina’s head shyly popped out, her face a bit flushed.

“Hey! Is this a bad time…?” you ask tentatively. “No, no it's fine! Please, come in,” Mina responded. She disappeared behind the door before opening it to let you in. After entering her apartment, she closed the door behind you and leant her hand on it. You looked down at her to see she was wearing an oversized white sweater covering her whole upper body. Her legs were bare, and you couldn't quite make out whether or not she was wearing any shorts. You decided it’d be best that you try paying no mind to it. You were in her home after all. She briefly caught your eyes wandering however, and adjusted the hem of her sweater downward while you quickly averted your eyes. The both of you let out a nervous chuckle.

There was a brief awkward silence as the two of you stood there, both of you unsure of who would make the next move. Mina snapped out of it first as she shyly made her way past you and  down the hall. You gave her some space and followed behind her. 

The two of you entered her living room. You took a moment to look around and admire the scene. Mina’s place was spacious to say the least, as expected of an idol of her status. It was decorated with a quaint, minimalist aesthetic that suited her. The room was furnished simply. On one side hanging on the wall was a giant flat screen TV and beneath it was an entertainment center. Inside, you could see all the various gaming consoles she owned, and you best believe she owned them all. Across from this was a rather comfortable looking couch. Mina picked up a small cushion to hold on her lap before she took a seat on said couch. She then gestured for you to join her by patting the open spot beside her. You happily made your way over.

“This is a really nice place, Mina.” you said with a warm smile as you took a seat next to her. 

“Oh, thanks haha. It's not much but it's enough for me” she replied coyly.

“No kidding. With a TV like that, I wouldn't blame you for never wanting to go out!” 

“Ugh, finally someone gets it. If only my members felt the same way…”

You got the vibe that she may have been a little nervous being alone with you, so you tried to lighten the mood. You opened with some more small talk, asking about which types of games she liked to play in her free time. It seemed to be working as you started to notice her easing up. She was surprisingly easy to talk to once you got on a subject she was passionate about. After exchanging pleasantries a little while longer, you decided it was time to get down to business.

“So, you wanted to discuss some more shoot ideas?”

Mina paused for a moment, remembering why she really invited you over before suppressing those thoughts. “Oh yeah, right. Shoot ideas. I did have an idea for a concept and I wanted your opinion on it.”

You turned your body to face her, propping an elbow on the back of the couch. “Let's hear it!”

“Well I like all the concepts you've pitched so far but…I was thinking that I wanna do something a little more…bold?” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to follow along. “I see. So you want to try more of a chic or fierce concept?” you prodded, testing to see if you were on the right track.

Mina quietly huffed to herself before trying to convey her thoughts again. “No, not exactly. I was thinking of trying out something more…sexy.”

You made an “Oh” face as you sat up, straightening your posture back forward. Mina in return shyly hid the lower half of her face behind her hands as she saw you finally connect the dots.

“You know what, yeah! I definitely think you can do something like that,” you say, trying your best to keep your composure. “I've done a few shoots like this before. Let me see if I have any stills saved on my phone.” You whipped out your phone and started scrolling through your gallery. You remembered back to a time last month when you were booked to shoot for a lingerie line, so you quickly scroll until you find some photos from that shoot.

Mina slowly leans closer, peering at your screen from over your shoulder. When you got to the photos in question, you turned your body to face her again and presented her your phone. She gracefully took it from you and began swiping through as you looked over her shoulder this time. The pictures were of various models in different lingerie attire, all shot in black and white. As Mina continued to swipe through, she seemed to be impressed with your work…until she got to the end of said shoot. Both of you froze as your eyes grew wide. On screen now was a photo of yourself, shirtless on that same set.

“OH! Sorry about that one,” you nervously said as you grabbed your phone from her still frozen hands. “I was just uh, testing the lighting on set and uh, yeah…”

Mina took a deep breath and cleared her throat before finally collecting herself. “No, don't be sorry, it was my fault for swiping too far. The shots are really good! That's definitely what I was envisioning so how about we try something along those lines?” She asked.

You nervously placed your phone back in your pocket, hoping to quickly move on. “Oh, ok then sure, if that's what you want…”

Mina turned to face you with a slight conviction in her eyes. “Mhm! In fact, wait here for a second, I have an idea.” With that, Mina jumped up from the couch, tossing the cushion aside as she waddled her way out of the living room towards her bedroom.

—

When she got to her room, Mina closed the door behind her before leaning back and sighing. After seeing that photo of you, she realized that you were everything Sana had described you as and then some. She had already quietly thought you were attractive, but that photo all but solidified her desire for you. At that moment, she decided to go ahead with her original plan. Mina walked over to the standing mirror in the corner of her room and took off her sweater, revealing the black lingerie outfit she had originally intended to surprise you with. She then walked into her closet, picking out a matching pair of thigh high stockings and heels to complete the look. After checking herself one last time in the mirror, she took a deep breath and left her room.

— Back in the living room, you took the little free time you had to organize your pictures in the phone's camera roll. Work can stay in work, but those self-portraits? Let's move those into a private folder. You were thinking hard about other pictures you still had that needed to stay hidden next time a client asks for examples, and a couple came to mind. Some barely safe for work behind the scenes pictures Sana let you keep, mostly because they wouldn't have had any real impact beyond some buzz for a week if they were to be leaked. You thought that it’d be a waste to delete those, so into the private folder they went.

You were just about done wrapping up the most crucial parts of your organizational efforts, when you heard a door opening and closing. You put your phone back down on the table in front of you and looked up to where the sounds were coming from. Standing in the doorframe was Mina, her arms awkwardly to her side, her hands meeting each other in front of her waist, her knees pointing slightly inwards. It was clear from her posture that she must have been feeling either shy or embarrassed. You weren't really sure why, because she looked absolutely stunning. Clad in a black lace bralette, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer and matching lace thigh highs, finished off with black pointed-toe pumps.

"How's this...?" She asked you, her voice soft and quiet, and her eyes unable to meet yours.

You were almost too stunned to speak. Was it really okay for you to see this? Your body couldn't help but react as well, but you had to stay professional. She's just asking your opinion for a shoot, stay calm. You somehow managed to form a reply: "Wow, Mina, this outfit looks amazing on you!"

Your response seemed to have eased her mind a little, as her eyes now finally managed to look into yours. "Really? Do you think I’d look better with it on or off?” Unfortunately you didn’t quite pick up the second half of her sentence due to her soft-spokenness, only picking up the initial “Really?”

You were undeniably nervous yourself, so responded to her supposed questioning for affirmation with "Yeah, absolutely! You really captured the concept!" thinking you absolutely nailed it. Mina let out a small, frustrated sigh in response, but recentered herself and followed up by taking a seat on the couch again next to you.

"How much longer do I have you for, oppa?" Mina asked you calmly, albeit with a hint of hesitation as her voice trailed off. Your heart nearly skipped a beat upon hearing her call you oppa. Surely she calls every older guy oppa, right? This is not flirting, act normal, you kept repeating to yourself.

"Oh, I don't have any other plans left today. I can stay for as long as you'll need me!" You face Mina again, a reassuring smile on your face as you flex your arm in a move attempting to signify your willingness to do whatever work you'd have to. This comforted Mina some more, as her worries that she would be inconveniencing you by asking to meet with her after just finishing a long day at work quickly washed away. She placed a hand in front of her gummy smile and let out an endearing chuckle.

"Maybe we could do some practice shots? If that's okay with you? I'd compensate you for your work, obviously." Mina requests of you, gathering her courage and laying her hand on your thigh, unmistakably communicating how she intended to compensate you. You, unfortunately, had spent too much time in Sana's presence lately, and had learned to relegate almost all casual physical touch to just that. Touching for the sake of touching, nothing more.

"Okay, sure! I didn't bring my camera with me though, so will it be okay if I use my phone?" You shoot up from the couch, already getting yourself into position to capture her beauty as she sits before you. Mina looked a little shocked from your sudden withdrawal of her touch, but relents and nods in agreement to your proposition. You quickly change some settings in your phone camera to get it ready for the shoot. "All set! Are you ready?" you ask her before readying your camera.

"So... how do you want me?" She asks you a little sultriness in her tone, staring at your camera, her cheeks displaying the slightest tint of red. You were so absorbed with your camera, you missed all these bodily queues.

"How about you face me, cross your legs and lean back a little on your arms?" You respond in an earnest answer to her question. Mina's brow furrows, wondering if she's not being straightforward enough or if you're just refusing to go along with her advances. She shakes off the thought and does as you request, her gaze instantly shifting from her usual shy demeanor to that of an industry veteran in the blink of an eye. Her eyes become sharper, her gaze fiercer, her body language more charismatic, and her presence more demanding. It's as if she’s flipped a switch and has become an entirely different person. You take a moment to focus yourself, and begin snapping some test pictures. The scene before you looked undeniably erotic, as her thighs squeezed on top of one another. She held her posture at an angle through which she was leaning with her arms slightly behind her and puffing her chest out slightly, causing her blazer to part slightly. You almost felt yourself waver but you steeled your resolve to remain as professional as possible.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" You propositioned. Mina's gaze softened. She smiled and tapped the couch next to her, indicating to you she'd like to take a look, but that you'd have to come over and show her. You managed to successfully read her body language this time and made your approach, taking a seat next to her. Mina huddled up close to you with her side leaning against your arm as you held your phone out and showed her the myriad of test shots you took of this first pose. "So, what do you think? Is this what you had in mind?" you inquired.

"Hmmmm, I think they're good, but I also think that I want to try something even more bold" she responds pensively, her hand balled into a fist on her chin. You were taken aback because in your mind, her current outfit and pose were already quite bold for your average idol. No matter what reservations you may have had, you weren’t about to deny Mina’s requests however.

"Did you have something in mind?" you inquire. You knew from experience that it was best not to suggest something in such a precarious situation, as you were still in the process of exploring your clients boundaries and did not want to ruffle any feathers. Best to let the client  communicate what they desire in such situations, assumptions can be treacherous, you thought to yourself.

"Can you maybe show me those pictures from earlier again...?" she asks, the fierceness completely eroded from her voice. You looked back at her, thinking you knew exactly what she was asking, and began to open up your “Professional Shoots” album again. She nods as you begin to scroll through, but manages to scrounge up enough courage to raise her voice a little. "No, oppa... not those ones. The picture of you that I saw." This time your cheeks turned red, but not just a little. It was safe to say that this was the last thing you had expected her to say. *That* picture was only shown to her by mistake after all. Nevertheless, you agreed to her demands. You pull up the picture of yourself sitting on a stool, one leg raised up with the other on the floor. You're wearing suit pants and nothing but a blazer adorning your torso.

"Did you bring a tablet or some other device by any chance? Maybe you could set it up on the table over there with that picture and I can look at it while trying to recreate it..." She continues asking, her shyness seemingly dissipating as she grows more comfortable in making demands.

You were a little uncomfortable with the thought of you putting those pictures on display, as a couple of rogue swipes could lead to your illicit relationship with Sana being exposed. Nevertheless, if Mina made the request, you couldn't possibly say no, and luckily for you you had remembered to pack an extra tablet. You set everything up exactly as she had asked before getting back to your position. You couldn’t help but to wonder what about these pictures seemed to serve as inspiration for Mina, but you gave in either way.

"Good to go?" you asked, checking one last time if everything was set up in the way Mina wanted it. She was sitting on the couch, her hands clutching her knees tightly, staring down at her lap. She didn't respond to your question, so you figured she was just mentally preparing herself for the test shots. You decide to address her once more. "Whenever you’re ready". You hold up your phone in position ready to take a picture whenever she strikes a pose. She lifts her face up, takes one last glance at the tablet and shifts her demeanor once more.

"I'm ready." She says, conviction and charisma oozing out of her. She lifts one leg up on the couch, and rests the other on the floor, mimicking your pose. She folds both her arms behind her back, and keeps it straight as she sits on the couch, seemingly fidgeting a bit. You assumed, with the reference picture on display, any changes she made were deliberate, and started shooting pictures. These look good…but they’re not much different from the others we took. What gives? you wonder.

Suddenly, the reason for the fidgeting of her hands behind her back becomes clear as day. Her bralette falls to the ground, which she kicks out of view with her leg that was resting on the floor. Her breasts are now more exposed with the inside of her cleavage fully on display. Her black blazer just barely covered her nipples as you started wondering if it was really okay for you to see her like this. You don't relinquish your professionalism however, and remain focused on taking the best pictures you knew you could. Your body's reaction was another thing entirely though, as you quietly attempted to shift your stance. You were sure that Mina would be able to see the outline of your growing erection through your pants now if she looked towards your bulge, so you did your best to hide it.

Mina holds her position for a little while, the entire time staring straight into the camera for the shot. In a way, it felt like she was staring straight into your soul rather than the camera, and you found yourself incapable of averting your gaze. Before changing positions, her brow furrowed and her expression briefly became quizzical. Slightly frustrated now, she sighed then adapted a seductive look once more. This time, she grabbed the inside seams of her blazer, and threw the piece off of her shoulders. All it was covering now was her back and her forearms, her petite yet elegant breasts now on full display. It took all of the willpower you had but you remained stoic. If this was the kind of shoot Mina wanted, then this was exactly what you would give to her. You kept taking pictures. Her expression was confident, charismatic, and her side profile was showcased immaculately in an elegant, almost ethereal way.

Despite her advances, Mina's failed attempts to goad you into making a move on her were causing her to become more and more frustrated. She was almost embarrassed at how easily you were able to ignore them, not knowing the toll it was taking on your mind to remain professional. You watched as she sat forward and reached out towards the tablet, swiping on it to find more sources of inspiration. You then notice her gain a shocked expression for a split second before she repositions herself. You couldn’t really see what picture she had swiped to, but hoped for the best either way. She then stands up in front of the couch and walks a little closer to the camera, bends forward, uses her arms to push her tits together to form the perfect cleavage amount for the camera, and tilts her head to the side as she shoots a sweet smile directly at the camera. You knew this pose. This was the same EXACT pose that Sana had struck for you in a photo she had sent to you a few weeks ago. You couldn’t mask your shock as you stumbled backwards a bit away from Mina. Her smile quickly transformed into a frown in response to your actions. 

"Oppa. Do you not want to fuck me?" She asked you in a serious, almost scathing tone. "I have been dropping hints for you ever since you got here, and all you've done is brush them off in favor of your job as a photographer." You were flabbergasted. Sure, she was dropping rather obvious hints but you thought you were being respectful by not reading too much into anything. What a fool! you exclaimed in your head. "Oh, ehm, I mean, I didn't mean to, I didn't know-" You stutter and mumble, absolutely clueless on how to proceed.

"Is your career more important to you than getting a chance to fuck me?" She asks you again, clearly upset with how the evening has been going. She takes a step back while still facing you, inching backwards until she feels the couch against her calves, and letting her ass plop down on the couch. She crosses her legs in a matter-of-fact way and then crosses her arms as well, shielding her breasts from view. "I know you're fucking Sana. This is your chance to fuck me. So I will ask you one last time, and clearly so that there is no confusion whatsoever. Do you or do you not want to fuck me?" she asks curtly. Her shy, innocent persona is gone. Something had awoken within her, and it was angry.

You were not only shocked by the sudden shift in her demeanor, but also by how forward she was in confronting you about your trysts with Sana. No matter the case, you decided that this would be something you would have to sort through later, as you did not want to pass up on the opportunity being presented to you now. "Yes, Mina. I absolutely want to fuck you." you responded to her, as you closed your phone and put it away.

"Good”, Mina replied through pursed her lips. “Since you don’t take to hints very well, I guess I have to spell everything out for you tonight. Now come here and take out your cock." she demanded, her eyes sneering as her right arm uncrossed from her chest and stretched out in your direction, her index finger pointing at the ground in front of her. You had disappointed her enough tonight already so there was no more room for error. You immediately did as she asked and dropped your pants and underwear to the floor, stepping out of it. "Start stroking” she commanded. Mina repositioned herself, giving you a full view of her exposed chest. Your mouth began to salivate as your mind began to run rampant at the prospect of ravaging her breasts. Her next command snapped you out of your lust-fueled daze. "Tell me what you like about my body. I want to hear what you want to do to me." "Fuck, Mina, I want to come over and hold you by your tight, sexy waist. I want to kiss your perfectly flat belly, and suck on your delicious looking tits. I want to rip that skirt off of you and bury my head in between your thighs. I want to pick you up and fuck you against the wall with your legs wrapped around me", you rambled, as you wasted no time in spitting into your palm, using your saliva as lubricant to start stroking just as she had commanded. You leaned backwards, giving Mina both a better view of your abs as well as a more vertical viewpoint of your cock. Mina’s lips curled into a seductive smile before she bit her lip. Each depraved act you described prompted Mina to nod in return, biting her lip even harder before she began to fondle her own tits. She was clearly putting on a show for you in an attempt to get you even harder than you already were. "Do you want to come over here and fuck me with that cock?" she asked as she spread her legs, granting you the sight of her black lace underwear. Once again you decided to be more proactive than you had been earlier in the night so you approached her slowly, taking off your shirt as you made your way over. Mina grew an excited smirk on her face as you walked towards her, the intense eye contact between the two of you never breaking. You were almost within range to grab her by her waist when you suddenly felt something sharp dig into your abdomen.

"Ah, ah. I asked what you wanted to do. I never gave you permission to actually come over here and fuck me, toy." Mina told you off in a demeaning tone, a cold glare freezing you in your tracks as her right heel dug into your flesh preventing you from going any further. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights, as you were under the impression that you had finally gotten the read on her. "Now get on your knees if you want to end this night inside me." She commanded once more, like a queen on a throne giving an irrefutable command.

This kind of experience was new for you, but you weren't against it. You couldn't deny her actions were turning you on, and your cock was beyond rock-hard at this point. You did as she asked of you and slowly lowered yourself to your knees. She placed the heel she had on your abs back on the ground before spreading her legs, exposing what was hiding beneath her mini-skirt once more.

"Rip my skirt off of me." Mina commanded as she leaned further back onto the couch while looking down at you. You looked back at her apprehensively, wondering what her game plan was.

"Are you sure...? These clothes look expensive." you responded, which made her sneer as her lip “tsked” towards the upper right corner of her mouth. "Do it." 

At that moment, you decided that you would not question her authority for the rest of the night. You placed your hands on her stomach, slipping your fingers under the fabric of her skirt. You gave Mina one more look as if to ask her if she was sure, but her deadpan stare back at you gave you the greenlight you needed. You took a deep breath, and exerted all the force you had in your arms in divergent directions, ripping the mini skirt cleanly in two before discarding the halves and exposing the full beauty of her hips, thighs and underwear. Mina leaned forward a bit, impressed by your display of physical prowess, and placed one hand atop her underwear, right over her pussy. You only caught a glimpse, but you were pretty sure that there was a damp spot on her underwear before she hid it from view. She didn't keep you guessing for long however, as she slid two fingers under the side of her panties and pulled it aside to expose her dripping desire for you.

"Praise my thighs, but not with words. And don't you dare touch my pussy." Mina ordered. You looked her in her eyes and nodded, acquiescing to her demands for now as you placed your lips against the inside of her right thigh just above the seam of her thigh high stocking. You planted a soft kiss before following it up by your teeth grasping at her stocking and pulling it away from her thigh, only to let it snap back in place. Mina flinched, but she didn't say anything. You wanted to press your luck by teasing her, but you had to be careful. So long as you did what she told you, you believed you could add your own little spin on things.

You moved your head slowly from one thigh to the other, leaving a trail of kisses as you went back and forth intermittently. Each time you shifted, your face inched closer and closer to her pussy. It was clean shaven, clearly communicating that she knew how she wanted this night to go since before inviting you. Her scent was different from Sana's. Though it was less sweet, it had a deeper fragrance to it, but it was equally as intoxicating. You found yourself getting lost in the smell of her pussy, and were so distracted by it that you didn't notice her stocking covered feet escaping her heels next to your knees until they were both pressed against your cock. The soft feeling of her lace covered skin was addicting as her feet wrapped themselves around your member. They then started to move up and down your shaft, eliciting a stifled moan from you directly into her thighs.

Ever since her touch reached you, you had lost your focus and were repeatedly kissing the same spot on her right thigh. Though you noticed your focus slipping, you couldn't resist her warning any longer. You moved your face closer to her pussy and decided to risk it all. Your tongue lapped at her dripping vagina, eager to get a true taste of her juice while you prepared to accept your punishment for disobeying her direct order. Contrary to your expectations, Mina placed the back of her hand against her mouth and let out a soft moan right as your tongue made contact. You took this as your queue and continued. You slowly started moving your tongue up and down covering as wide an area as possible in an attempt to find her clit as fast as possible. As you were picking up your pace, you felt Mina do the same. Her feet had started to match your rhythm, and your competitive instincts took over. When you found her clit, you began to flick it with your tongue. The frequency of her moans increased, while her upper body started to sink deeper and deeper into the back of the couch.

You placed your lips around her clit and started applying some soft suction before examining Mina's reaction. Both her legs and feet tensed up in response before they pushed hard against the base of your cock. Only when you let up on your assault of her clit did her feet relax and go back to slowly stroking you. You could feel her thighs twitching softly against the sides of your head, signaling to you just how sensitive she was to your actions. In all fairness, you weren’t in any better shape either. As her footjob continued you felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, but your competitive instincts (the ones finely honed by the countless instances of playing your little game with Sana) had now started firing on all cylinders. You went back to flicking her clit with your tongue, only this time with an increased pace. You did not want to cum before Mina did, so you decided to pull out every trick in the book. You began forming every letter of the alphabet with your tongue, right on her most sensitive spot.

Mina's moans kept increasing in pitch and frequency, until suddenly both of her thighs started to squeeze tightly against your head. Her hips began to buck violently. I win, you thought to yourself, a feeling of smugness overwhelming you. Mina’s chest heaved up and down as she tried to calm herself, her feet slipping off of your cock before she propped herself up on her elbows to get a good look at you. While you thought you had softened her up and convinced her with your skills, you couldn't have been more wrong. You slowly backed away and sat back on your heels, trying to read her expression. 

"I warned you not to touch my pussy." She looked down at you, her eyebrows coming together in an angry scowl. If it wasn't for the seductive smirk that crept up on her face a moment later, you would have thought you had wasted any chance of continuing this night any further. "I'm going to have to punish you for that, toy." You feel the heel of her foot on your left shoulder. Before you can protest, she shoves you back as you fall back onto your ass. You look back to her with wide eyes, shocked at her sudden forcefulness, but are met with a devilish grin from Mina. She was excited for whatever she had planned next, and tonight you just so happened to be caught in her sights. Mina quickly got up and walked over to one of the side tables by her couch. She opened its drawer and pulled out a small black object, smiling at it before turning to face you once more. Her expression then turned back to that of a calm, almost menacing look.

“You. Sit back on that chair across from the couch. I'll only say this once. You are not to touch yourself. Do you understand?” 

You look up to her like a deer caught in headlights. You were always the one who took the lead in your sex life, and had never been commanded like this before. This situation was an all new sensation for you. You were at a loss trying to make sense of how the normally calm and demure Mina could have such a fiery side to her, but a small part of you was growing excited to find out what else she had in her. The corners of your mouth curled into a slick grin as you brought a hand up to wipe the remnants of her juices from your lips. You looked Mina in her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good boy.” Mina commended as she retook her place in the center of the couch. You got up and walked backwards until you felt the chair behind you, letting yourself fall back into it. You placed your arms on the armrests and looked back towards Mina intently, spreading your legs so that she could get a good look at your still-fully erect cock.

Everything Mina did, she did at an excruciating slow pace. No matter how simple the movement, her smoothness combined with her intense gaze to ooze raw sex appeal. First, she sank backwards into the couch, getting herself into a more comfortable position. She kept her knees close together as she brought them up, all the while maintaining her vixen stare on you. Mina then fully extended her legs upward, pointing them towards the ceiling as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties. In one smooth motion she removed them, trailing the fabric up her marble-like legs before bunching it up around one of her feet. She then slowly began parting her legs into splits, her gaze never once leaving yours.

Your eyes widened and your mouth instantly watered as she exposed herself to you. Your cock was already standing at full attention from her earlier teasing. It twitched ever so slightly in excitement, a movement Mina caught onto and grinned at. You gulped as you gripped down hard onto the armrest to stop yourself from violating her only rule.

Mina then slid one of her hands down her torso, stopping between her legs and cupping her pussy. She kept her fingers close together and started rubbing her lips, cooing soft yet barely audible moans as her eyes remained glued on your throbbing member. In her other hand, she held a small black object no bigger than the size of her thumb. She brought it to her face and ran it across her lips. She then held it slightly in front of her face as she shifted her lidded gaze to meet your eyes.

In yet another agonizingly slow motion, Mina stuck her tongue out and ran it from the base of the object to its tip before giving it a soft peck. Though you were separated across the room from each other, you could almost feel whatever she was doing to the thing she was worshiping in her hands. A bead of sweat rolled down your brow as you fought against the urge to get up and pounce on her with every fiber of your being. You had a death grip on the armrest, your veins popping out of your toned forearms. Seeing how much you were struggling only motivated Mina to keep pushing the envelope. She decided to kick it up a notch. After bringing the it’s tip to her lips, she then closed her eyes and opened her mouth just enough to engulf the object.

“Mmmmmm…..” Mina moaned out, sucking down hard as she withdrew the object from her lips. You bit down on your own lip, trying hard to stifle your reaction to her obvious ploy. You didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing the effects she was having on you, but suffice to say your body language was betraying you.

She kept up her act, each time exaggerating her moans more and more while also squirming her body trying to get a rouse out of you. You sat up in your chair and sighed, wanting so badly to look away and distract yourself. You tilted your head downward averting her gaze, but your eyes kept stealing glances at her wanton figure. 

Mina had you in the palm of her hands and was not about to let up any time soon. Satisfied with the lubrication of the object, she pressed a small button on its underside. It sprang to life in her hand, vibrating in short pulses as Mina grinned. She knew that the next thing she had planned was sure to make you break.

She trailed the object down her torso, holding it just above her skin so that it barely grazed her with the slightest touch. When she got to her pussy, she spread her lips with her fingers from one hand while she teased herself with the vibrator in the other, before lining it up to her entrance. She hummed out her pleasure, prompting you to look once more. When she caught your eyes and saw the pain hiding behind them, she smirked to herself and decided to go for the kill. 

“Oppa~!” Mina cried out. You could only watch in anguish as she pushed the vibrator into her dripping pussy. Her legs tensed up rhythmically as each vibration sent shivers coursing throughout her body. To her, masturbating with a vibrator had always felt good, but doing so now while also putting on a show only served to further intensify her pleasure. You could feel the pressure building up to an all-time high in your cock now and subconsciously your hand was just about to try and relieve some of it; however, by the grace of some divine entity you found the strength to hold back. You sank back into your seat and groaned out in frustration.

As you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, Mina took your groans of longing as music to her ears. Though she was frustrated earlier in the night when you weren’t picking up on her hints, having your full attention now was exhilarating. She kept playing up her moans, leaving you no choice but to force yourself to look away. The melodic tones of her cries paired with the sounds the vibrator made as she methodically pistoned it in and out of her were killing you. At this moment, you wished for nothing more than to be the reason she was experiencing all of that pleasure. If she was being honest with herself, a large part of her wished for that as well. Sana had spared no details when she would talk about you to her, and she was looking forward to seeing what the hype was all about. When she finally got a chance to see what you were working with, she almost decided to throw all of her plans out the window and pounce on you but she refrained. She needed to first establish who would be in control when it was time. She needed to know if you’d be strong enough to handle her needs, or if you’d break like all the other toys she’s played with prior to this night.

Mina held out for as long as she could. She did not want to push herself over the edge, instead deciding that she wanted to let you do the honors as a fitting reward. With one last drawn out breath, she slowly pulled out the vibrator.

“Mmm…this has been fun oppa, but I’m afraid it won't do. Why don’t you come over here and help me out?” She offered. Her tone was a stark contrast of both playful and conniving. You looked over to see she had sat up from the couch with her hands at her side and her legs crossed. She was looking back at you while pouting cutely, but you knew hidden beneath that facade was a succubus eyeing her prey. What sort of game is she playing now, you thought to yourself. Wary as you were, before you even realized it you had gotten up and started making your way to her. Mina’s pout slowly transformed to a delighted grin as she repositioned herself to lay fully on the couch, tilting her head and letting her hair fall to the side as she licked her lips.

When you got to her, she motioned for you to bend down and take a knee. You were now up close to her, taking in the sight. Only a pair of lingerie stockings adorning her legs prevented her from being completely nude. Your head turned as you took in every detail of her goddess-like body. Her pussy looked even more delicious now as it glistened in the dim lighting. Mina took one of her soaked fingertips and brought it up to your face, running it across your lips once before pausing and pressing lightly against them. You took the cue and opened your mouth slightly, closing your eyes as you focused all of your senses into fully savoring her taste. Mina grinned at this before withdrawing her finger and lightly holding your chin turning it to face her.

“As a reward for not touching yourself, I’ll let you touch me. Go ahead, oppa. Make me cum.” Like a light switch being flipped, you instantly got excited once again. She let go of your face and laid back, running her hand through her hair as she awaited your next move. You placed your left hand by her head to support yourself as you leaned to the right, reaching your right hand to one of her knees. Slowly you trailed it up her thigh, lightly tracing her skin with the most gentle touch you could muster. You repeated this motion on her other leg and back again, each time getting closer and closer to her mound. When you finally did reach it, you decided to prolong it a little bit. She’s had her fun, it’s time I gave her a taste of her own medicine, you thought to yourself. You then proceeded to graze your fingertips around her pussy, never once actually penetrating her. You’d rub circles massaging her on the outside, but you didn’t want to give her that satisfaction just yet. After a couple of passes, you were stopped abruptly in your tracks by a sudden sensation. You looked down to see that Mina had snaked her hand up your leg without you noticing, and now was gripping your shaft, albeit with a little too much force for comfort. You froze and winced a bit as you looked down. 

“Oppa.” Mina said. You slowly looked to your left to find that she was staring back at you with an almost blank expression. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as her grip tightened. “I don’t like being teased.” In that moment, you came to the conclusion that the girl lying before you was not one to be trifled with. For someone known for being so quiet, reserved, almost timid even, seeing this side of Mina was throwing your whole perception of her out of order. You thought you had her all figured out, and that you’d know how to please her even better than she knew herself; however, you’d now come to learn that she was actually quite the confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted. That confidence caused you to become even more attracted to her than you already were. Alright, Mina. Enough games, you thought to yourself. Without saying a word, you simply nodded slyly before turning your attention back towards your hand. You ran your fingertips along her slit one more time to lubricate them before deftly positioning your middle finger at her entrance. In one quick motion, you pushed inside while curling your finger back upwards. Mina gasped at the sudden penetration, but her surprise was quickly washed away as she adjusted, closing her eyes and sighing with a big smile. You felt her let go of your cock and place her hand on your forearm by her head which saddened you a little, but you kept your focus on the task at hand.

You slowly started to pump your finger in and out of her, moving it around to truly feel her walls. You took your thumb and started massaging her on the outside. Mina’s breaths began to pick up, signaling to you that she was getting into it. Her body did its part to lube your finger up nicely as your job became easier and easier. When you opted to have your ring finger join in on the fun, she let out a sharp hiss of approval. “Just like that, oppa, yes, right there~” she cooed. While the hand she had on your forearm gripped it tightly, her other hand made its way to her head as she writhed in pleasure. She kept her eyes shut and eyebrows furled as her lips parted letting out sharp tsks. She arched her lower back, bucking her hips up to meet your hands while you started finger-fucking her in earnest. Her petite chest jiggled ever so slightly. They looked far too tempting to be left unattended, so you leaned down and kissed around one of her nipples before locking your lips around it and sucking hard. She was loving all of the attention, and finally moaned out loud right by your ear. You could tell she was getting close when her chest started moving erratically. You leaned back, wanting to get a good look at the girl below you getting absolutely lost in lust. 

“Cum for me, Mina!” you roared with your hand moving at a furious pace. 

She couldn’t hold on any longer. “AHHH~~~!” she shrieked out. She was like a woman possessed the way she let go of herself. Her left hand gripped the back of the couch while her other hand’s nails began to dig into your skin. Her entire body seized up as her orgasm took control over her. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body as her eyes rolled back. Her chest heaved frantically as she tried to hold on to her sanity. Juices freely squirted from her pussy, utterly soaking the spot on the couch she lay on. You did your part by slowing your pace to help her ride it out. Once she had calmed down, you retracted your fingers from inside of her, gently massaging her ravaged pussy before leaning back to catch your own breath.

The two of you stayed as you were in silence for a bit collecting yourselves. When she finally turned her head to look at you on the floor, she shyly flashed you a smile before covering it with her hands. You chuckled at her cuteness. She slowly sat upright and reached out a hand towards you to help you stand before her. She brought up her other hand so that now she was holding both of yours. 

“Thank you for that. It’s been…a while since I’ve had someone do that for me.” Mina said quietly.

“Hah, please. The pleasure’s all mine. That reward was more than worth it.” you replied with a deep satisfied sigh. Mina tilted her head to the side and gave you a quizzical look when she heard this.

“...You think that was your reward? Oh, Y/N. We're just getting started.” It was your turn to look at her confused. In an instant, you saw a fire light in Mina’s eyes as her lips curled into another mischievous grin. Before you could say anything, she pushed you back down to take her seat on the couch and quickly straddled you. She pinned your shoulders to the back of the couch with her hands while she adjusted her lower half. Your hands found themselves on each of her thighs, holding on tight as she got herself more comfortable. Mina brought her face close to yours, so close that you thought she was going in for a kiss. Her scent was so intoxicating that you couldn’t help but lose yourself in her all over again. You closed your eyes and pucker your lips waiting for her to make the next move, but what she did next was not what you were expecting at all.

From the corner of her eyes, Mina saw you readying yourself for what you thought would be a wonderful kiss, but she had other plans in mind. She brought her lips close to yours, but at the last second she swerved her head to the side and dove towards your ear, causing you to kiss her cheek instead. Your eyes opened in confusion. Suddenly, you felt one of her hands grab a fistful of your hair. She yanked it back hard to the opposite side, making you wince in pain. She leaned back in your lap  to get a better look at you. When you got a chance to reciprocate, you found yourself trapped in her grasp as she gazed back down, licking her lips like a hungry predator ready to devour her prey. 

Devour you she did. She quickly dove her head back down beside yours, kissing it wildly as she trailed hickies up the side of your neck. When she got to your ear, she nibbled it softly while giggling, sending goosebumps down your spine. All you could do was sit there holding on to her waist and thighs as she completely had her way with you. While her left hand held your head firmly in place, her other hand freely explored the rest of your body giving soft squeezes everywhere each time she moaned into your neck.

Her upper half wasn’t the only part of her body putting in work either. She had adjusted herself in a way that the folds of her labia were hugging the underside of your shaft. As she worked your neck with her mouth, she slowly grinded her hips into yours, running her folds along your shaft. She was still very much wet from your pleasuring prior, so it was easy for her to glide along your length. Mina would grind her pussy up your cock slowly, stopping just before her entrance would reach your tip before crashing back down. It was almost too much sensory overload for you no matter where you looked and felt, but you weren’t about to tell her to stop.

Mina continued worshiping your body until she felt like she needed you to do it again to her. She pulled back from your neck until she was sitting deep in your lap. She yanked your head back again, this time facing the ceiling. With her free hand, she grasped onto both sides of your cheeks prompting you to open your mouth. She then leaned forward and positioned herself above you, gathering some spit in her mouth before letting it dribble out right into yours. 

“God, Mina…” you groaned as you swallowed it down. You couldn’t get enough, and she was more than happy to deliver.

She did this a couple of times, smiling wickedly as she watched your throat bulge out with every gulp you made. Satisfied, she used the hand holding your head and pulled you in close to her chest, wanting you to ravage her chest much in the same way she had your neck. You wasted no time and began suckling her breasts, nibbling on her nip before moving quickly over to the other making sure they each got the same love and affection. Mina threw her head back as you did this, all the while never stopping the grinding of her hips.

As Mina reveled in your assault of her chest, your urges for more started stirring up again. Slowly, you wrapped one hand around her lower back while your other crept its way up the side of her body. When she threw her head back again, you took your chance and acted quickly. The hand moving up her body moved to grab her by the neck, squeezing down not enough to suffocate her, but enough to cause her to freeze in place. Mina’s eyes shot open as she looked back down at you, only this time it was clear who was in the driver’s seat. She placed her hands on your chest to support herself while you pulled her in close with your hands. 

“I think I’ve indulged you quite enough for tonight, Mina…” you sneered. Mina looked on helplessly, frightened as she thought to herself whether or not she had pushed you too far. You brought her to mere inches from your face and smiled back at her evilly, now finally in a position to assert some level of control. You could tell she was starting to get actually frightened, so you chose your next actions carefully. 

“You said you don’t like to be teased? I don’t either.” you say solemnly with a smirk. Before Mina has a chance to protest, she sees you wink an eye at her. She breathes out a sigh of relief before returning your knowing grin. That was all she needed to see to know your true intentions. You loosen your grip on her neck and trail your hand back down her side. Meanwhile, Mina adjusts herself up to give you space to reach under her while also placing her hands on your shoulders. You both look down as you grip the base of your shaft holding it steady while Mina moves to line you up with her entrance. The two of you join foreheads and with everything in position, she breathes out and nods before lowering herself onto you.

The moment you entered her, you were enveloped in such warmth and tightness that you threatened to bust right on the spot. You could feel her releasing short puffs of air as she took you in inch after inch, both of you moaning in unison. When you had fully slotted in, you held each other close for a moment to let each other grow accustomed to the new feeling of being one. Mina was still sensitive from earlier and you had yet to find a release of your own, so even the slightest movement from either of you was magnified to new heights. After you felt comfortable enough to keep going, you lifted your head and brought a hand to Mina’s face to clear the hair behind her ear. Her head was still down and her eyes shut tight.

“You ok?” you asked tentatively. Mina took a deep breath before she finally lifted her head. She replied with a satisfied smirk, wiping away any doubt or worry you may have had.

“Mhm, why? Is that all you’ve got?”

You couldn’t help but grin back, admiring her confidence once again. “No shot. We’re just getting started, right?”

Then it was off to the races. Mina initiated the pace as she started bouncing in your lap, but it didn’t take long for you to meet her. She whipped her head back and moaned loudly, not giving a damn about her neighbors hearing her. “Ahhh fuck! Yes!” she exclaimed. With one hand you gripped her waist to support her ass while the other found its home on one of her boobs. Mina kept both of her hands on your shoulders as she continued to grind wildly into you. Every once in a while when she’d come down, she would squeeze her thighs and core on the rebound back up, ensuring you felt the maximum amount of tightness her body could give you. 

As the two of you continued to go at each other, Mina’s skin began to glisten from the work she was putting in. You didn’t want to miss your opportunity so you decided to mirror what she had done to you earlier. You caught her off guard by grabbing some of her hair and yanked her head back to expose her neck. It hurt her a bit, but the immense amount of pleasure she was feeling far outweighed the pain. You then leaned forward with your tongue out and gave her a long lick from her chest to her jawline. Mina cooed out her enjoyment before she came back to her senses. Feeling that her control of the situation was beginning to slip away, she decided to remind you of your place in the only way she saw fit. When you pulled back, she surprised you with a sharp slap across your cheek. The suddenness of it all shocked you, but she then immediately caressed your face before bringing you closer and surprising you yet again, only this time with a kiss.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the two of you sank into that kiss. Your hands trailed up her back softly, wanting to pull her in as close as possible. She kept both of hers close together cradling your face. As good as the rest of her body tasted tonight, nothing compared to the taste of her lips. They were sweet, tender, and moved with such a burning passion that you couldn’t quite describe. You pushed your face into hers not wanting it to end, but deep down you knew that this would be the first of many, many to come. Mina broke away first, pulling back while still holding your face as she longingly looked in your eyes straight into your soul. You just gazed back, lost in the moment. 

Mina smiled before she placed her hands back on your shoulders. She lifted herself up and resumed fucking you, but this time it was different. She purposefully moved much slower this time around. Much more deliberately. Instead of riding you wildly and treating you like her plaything, she was making it a point to really grind into you. With every bounce she rolled her body up while gyrating her hips to give you the most pleasurable experience imaginable. For the first time tonight, she was not out to seek her own pleasure. She was seeking yours.

Your hands were laid on her ass as she settled into a nice, slow pace. The change-up in her tactics would soon prove to be your downfall as you felt your climax quickly approaching. 

“Ughh…M-Mina…I-I’m close…” you panted as you clutched onto her.

“Ok…let me know, oppa. Don’t finish inside me” she whispered back.

You nodded as you shut your eyes, trying desperately to hold out for as long as possible. Mina turned up the intensity of her grinding, digging into you even deeper than she had before. She once again cradled your face wanting you to look at her. When your eyelids finally opened, you were met with one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever laid your eyes on. Mina's eyes were lidded, and the corners of her lips had curled into the slightest of smiles. In that moment, you felt the last of your strength being sapped away, but you no longer cared.

“Mina…” you moaned out. 

Mina knew what was coming and was fast to act. She quickly hopped up from your lap and got to her knees between your legs. Before you realized what was happening, she had your shaft in both of her hands and was stroking vigorously. When she sensed you were about to pop, she instantly wrapped her lips around your cock and started swirling her tongue around your tip as she continued stroking with her hands. If all that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, the eye contact she made with you next did the trick. With a gasp, you began unloaded burst after burst of cum straight into her mouth. All of the pent up energy from her earlier teasing only served to make this climax all the more intense. Your hand subconsciously moved to the back of her head to hold her in place, not that she would have tried to leave anyway. Even though she thought she was ready for it, the first shot caught her off guard and she hummed out in surprise, but she quickly swallowed what she could to make room in her mouth for more. Eventually your orgasm subsided as you lost all feeling in your lower body. Mina did her due diligence and sucked hard to get as much of her hard earned cum as she could before releasing you from her mouth with a pop. She then closed her eyes and dropped her head to your thigh, sighing as she still held on to your cock.

You leaned your head back in exhaustion staring up at the ceiling, haven given everything you had inside of you. You took a couple of deep breaths while feeling Mina's head rest on your thigh and her hand still gripping onto your cock as if to stabilize herself. Mina looked as exhausted as you were, but she met your gaze with a warm smile. She then started moving again and pushed herself up on your thigh, bringing her face moving closer to yours. Her face stopped right in front of you, just close enough that you could feel her warm breaths exhaling onto your skin. You were gazing into each other's eyes, and you couldn't help but expect another decisive kiss from her. But it never came. She kept her distance as if couldn't seem to move any closer to you, regardless of how much she tried. After a couple of seconds of looking at you, Mina averted her gaze from you again and her cheeks, flushed as they already were from exhaustion, seemed to have grown an even rosier shade of  red. It seemed to you as though her proactive demeanor had faded, so you decided to give her what you thought she wanted.

You moved your face closer to hers and planted your lips onto hers. She pulled back at first from shock, but quickly sank deeply into the kiss, her entire body relaxing in the process. You both parted your lips to make way for your tongues to meet each one another. You took the initiative to explore her mouth, sensually prodding and gliding over her tongue.A slightly sour, yet salty taste permeated her tongue which you presumed to be yours. You didn't mind however, as the orgasm she gave you to produce that flavor made anything worth it. She pulled back from the kiss first, her tongue lingering slightly outside her mouth and a trail of spit connecting her tongue to your lips as she backed away.

"That was amazing, oppa... I hope you liked it too." Mina quietly spoke, her confidence clearly wavering, almost a guilty look on her face.

"I loved it. We should do this again sometime." you replied, comforting the shy girl. Her face lit up with the hope that she had finally found someone willing enough to submit to her, but strong enough to put up a fight, something she had always desired.

Mina's tight grip on your cock had softened, turning into a sensual light touch. Her wrist started moving up and down, and her hand followed the motion limply.

"It's still hard...Usually they've flatlined by now?" Mina muttered underneath her breath, her eyes fixated on your cock which was still standing resiliently. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of you, and was unable to resist letting her hand give you an incredibly slow and weak-gripped handjob.

"Yeah, I guess this is as good a time as any to let you know that I basically have no refractory period. I'm not sure why, but... yeah." you explained to her, the occasional moan slipping out through your answer.

"So you could cum again right now if you wanted to?" Mina asks, as you perceive a spark light up in her eyes. Her hand picked up its pace ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I suppose I could," you answered with a hint of pride in your undertone, almost goading Mina into finishing what she was starting.

"Should I go slow or fast?" She asked, her gaze finally shifting away from your cock and towards your face. It seemed like she was genuinely curious as to what method would send you over the edge the fastest.

"Hmmmm...Kind of fast, but with a loose grip? And lots of spit. Use your other hand to put pressure on the base of my cock with a tight grip too, maybe?" you earnestly directed. She looked at you with her right eyebrow slightly raised, giving you a look as if to teasingly let you know she thought you had a lot of demands. Nevertheless, she complied, hanging her head above your cock's tip while using her free left hand to hold her hair back behind her ear. She  opened her mouth and slowly let a dribble of spit coat your member. Afterwards, she used her left hand to grip the base of your cock firmly and applied some downward pressure, just as she was told. The grip of her right hand didn't change but her tempo certainly did. With a rapid pace, she jerked you off with pure intent.

After about a minute of this, Mina tilted her head up to face you. "Can we kiss?" Mina asked, her eyes unable to meet yours and staring downwards shyly. You nodded your head yes as you let out a soft approving hum in between your moans. You leaned forward a little and Mina met you halfway, your lips and tongues meeting each other once more.

You almost got lost in the feeling of her soft hands engaged with your dick and her even softer lips wrestling against yours for control, that is until a wave of electricity surged through your body yet again. You wanted to pause so you could tell Mina that you were close to cumming, but she had no intention of stopping. All that came out of your mouth were muffled moans directly into hers. You started cumming again, half of your load landing on your own exposed chest, the other dripping down both of Mina's hands. The feeling of the warm liquid running down her fingers finally got Mina to stop, and she let go of the kiss.

"Could you hold my hair up in a ponytail for me?" Mina asked, pleading with her eyebrows scrunching upwards. How could you ever deny her request? You did as she asked, holding her hair together in a bundle behind her head. "Thank you." she whispered before shooting a half smile at you. She then brought her hands up to her face, licking all of the cum off of her hands whilst never once breaking eye contact with you. Next, her head moved down toward your chest as she stuck her tongue out. She slid the tip of her tongue across the crevices of your abs, slowly licking up every last drop of cum your second load had to offer. Once she was satisfied, she sat back and wiped her lips with the back of one of her hands and let out a satisfied hum.

"Huh, so it really is true. Sana mentioned you had stamina, but this is absurd." Mina commented, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, about that. What exactly did Sana tell you about?" you responded curtly, finally addressing the annoyance you felt with your casual relationship being outed.

"That you were really good at fucking, and really good at fucking for a long time..." Mina timidly replied, clearly having picked up on your frustration.

"So just so we’re clear, you know that it's just a casual thing, right?" You asked.

"Well, yeah... That's what she told me you were into anyway, and also why she kept reiterating that she thought I'd like spending some ‘quality’ time with you. I did by the way, in case you were wondering",  Mina continued to explain apologetically. 

"So you knew about all of that and still set this thing up tonight? Do I take it that you also want something casual with me…?" you asked, the annoyance in your voice now replaced by that of intrigue.

"Pretty much? It's like you said. We should do this again sometime!" She responded with a hint of glee in her tone, a gummy smile starting to form as the tone of the conversation shifted.

"Hmmm, well, as long as you're okay with it. Besides, the sex was fucking amazing." You relented.

"As long as you still put up somewhat of a fight when I tell you what to do, oppa! It’s no fun when they just mindlessly follow my orders" She responded cheerfully, throwing a cute wink your way before letting out a giggle with both her eyes closed in crescent moons. —

The sexual tension between the two of you settled down as the two of you grew more relaxed with the reality of the situation. You ended up talking a little more about the shoot that was actually still set to happen after she explained that it was not just some ruse to get the both of you out of your clothes.The end concept would feature a little less nudity however, but you completely understood why. As the night ran late, you packed your stuff and prepared to go home. You had said your goodbyes to each other already and were heading for her door, but you were suddenly stopped by Mina chasing after you. She grabbed a hold of your arm.

"Before you leave! Would it be okay to send me some of those pictures you took?" Mina asked, grasping for breath, somehow still showing hints of timidness despite your time spent together that night.

"Oh, the test shots? If you want, I can edit them tomorrow and send them to you after?" you replied with an assuring smile, trying to ease her worries.

"No, not those. The photos of you..." she replied, her cheeks going beet red once more as she sought something else in the room to look at. You couldn't deny you were also feeling a little flushed, but you were flattered nonetheless.

"Oh. Oh!" you responded before scratching the back of your head. "Right! Sure, let me do that real quick." You chuckled nervously as you quickly grabbed your phone, debated which pictures you felt were your best shots, then sent them over to your new lover.

"Thanks, oppa. Have a good night and get home safe!" she answered back, still too shy to face you head on, but mustering enough courage to add some volume to her farewell. "Yeah, have a great night too, Mina!" you responded with a big smile on your face. You then turned away and finally took your leave for the night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: First of all, thank you to everyone for all of the overwhelming support of our first chapter! When we first started writing, we quite literally could have never imagined the buzz it would have created if we ever decided to post it for others to read, so once again, THANK YOU! We told you before that the last chapter was only the start, and we can’t wait to let you all fall a little deeper into our world!

[waves-against-a-cliff]

After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU

Summary - So the hunt begins.

Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. Omega has a shotgun, I REPEAT, Omega has a shotgun. Mentions of violence.

Prologue Chapter 1

The others looked at Gaz like he had finally lost his marbles but only Soap was the one to speak up and say, "Ye've gone and lost yer mind."

Gaz shook his head and grabbed Soap's wrist, forcing him to kneel down and smell the old blood. He waited for his reaction and Soap sat back, his cold blue eyes wide.

"A 'mega out here? After all this time..." Soap looked to Price and Ghost who both exchanged looks. Price rolled his shoulders and Ghost seemed to relax just a little.

"Well, if there is one we should go and find them," Price finally said.

"And where would that be?" Soap asked but his eyes had already trailed over to the forest at the edge of the town. Large enough to hide a place for an omega to hide.

You triple checked the trap you just set, making sure the string was hidden and that it was ready to go off for the poor alpha's that made the mistake of coming onto your land. Your territory had been littered with traps for years though some had gone into disrepair due to your own negligence.

No matter, you thought as you layered more leaves on top to conceal the pit below, you're sure you'll get them with this.

Back when libraries hadn't been mere ruins with musty, rain ruined books you had developed a small fascination with the tactics and traps the Vietnam soldiers had left for the American ones. Nasty, down right awful traps but they drove America out of their country and you were intent to do the same to these alphas.

But even as you thought about the harm you would bring down upon them like a vengeful goddess, your inner omega had started to awaken more. She scratched and whined at the idea of there not only being one but four alphas near by. After years of nothing but your own fingers and the old dildo, your inner omega was desperate for something.

Yet, there was also confliction.

Yes, the deep seeded desire to be bred by four burly alphas was there but also a certain feral aspect bubbled closer to the surface. This is our land, your omega hissed, ours and they've entered it. We smelt them. They haven't left. She pushed you to make more traps, set deadlier ones.

An agreement had been made, or a compromise. Get the alpha's off your land and if one of them survived, keep him. What the next step would be, neither you or your omega had thought about that. Or if all of them survived.

A twig snapped to your left and it yanked you from your thoughts immediately. You hastily covered the trap further before you scrambled up a near by tree and waited. You fought to scratch at the dried mud caked onto your scent glands. It was damn near stifling. Worse then the stuffing in your nose.

You waited, heart pounding in your chest as you kept listening for more signs. Nothing. You let yourself breathe again and slide down from the tree you had perched in. Then you heard them, eight feet tramped down snow and broke twigs under their weight.

They were so loud.

You turned your head just in time to see a hat above a fern and a peak of something black behind it. Your hand found your shotgun with practiced ease and you stepped back and over your trap for more protection. Then they emerged from the bushes.

May the strongest alpha win

Liked my fic? Buy me a Nutella jar

I do not give any permissions to repost my work, use it in AI, translate my work or any other thing. All rights reserved with me.

[pretty-little-mind33]

ＳＨＯＲＴ ＡＮＤ ＳＷＥＥＴ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

muggle au poly!marauders x fem!reader

Summary: You introduce yourself to the bookstore next door.

Warnings: none

"𝒪𝒽, 𝐼 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓂𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃"

The air is chilly as you pull your jumper over your shoulders, balancing your silver tray in one hand. You blow some hair from your eyes and close on the door to your small cafe, the bell chiming after you. While technically you don't officially open until 10 am for brunch this morning, you had planned an assortment of mini-drinks and pastries to bring to the neighboring businesses so you could introduce yourself to them. 

Your first destination is the bookstore across the street. It's an old red-brick building, accompanied by a worn-out wooden door and a wooden sign where the name, "Moony's Library" is proudly displayed in chipped white paint. It looks homey and antique and when you walk over and can see that the small plaque on the door says closed. You knock anyway.

You receive no answer. 

Biting your lip, you hold your tray tighter against your sides, frowning as you raise your arm awkwardly to try again. Still no answer. You try the handle this time. You could have sworn you saw someone in the window. The door opens with a creak as you tentatively push on it and hesitantly, you step inside.

Just as you do, your shoe hits the slightly raised step of the entrance, bending your ankle awkwardly as you almost fall over. You gasp, catching yourself just in time as none of your drinks spilled or pastries fall. 

Thankful no one saw you—

"Clumsy, aren't you?" a voice drawls from the corner of the room and you jump, almost dropping the tray again. When you turn, you see a man sitting in an armchair in the corner, his left foot bound in a medical boot. His crutches lay against the side of the armchair.

The man is strikingly handsome, with his round glasses resting on his nose and his messy dark hair curls framed around his sharp hazel eyes. He isn't smiling, instead he is simply smirking like he knows something you don't know. 

"You scared me." Your voice sounds more intimidated than anticipated, and you walk towards the counter, placing the tray near some old books. You're careful not to ruin them as your cheeks burn warm. "I knocked," you point out, afraid he'll accuse you of being a trespasser. 

"I heard," the man says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows scrunch and he reads your mind. 

"We're closed. Didn't want to stand and open the door when we are closed." The man shrugs and as handsome as he is, you don't like how he's practically making fun of you. His eyes land on the drinks and trays and his lips curl, his voice a little more lighthearted this time. He makes a guess. "You own Whisk and Whims Cafe?" 

You nod and walk over, holding one of your drink samples to him. "This is a Caramel Cappuccino. It's called Autumn Swirl," you say and then pause a moment. "My name is Y/n," you add quietly.

The man takes the drink and drinks it all in one go. He smiles and looks at you again. "Decent," he teases, wiping the foam from his lips. "Hint of cinnamon?"

You nod again as another voice interrupts you. "James. Be nice, will you?" The man, James, rolls his eyes at this and leans back in the armchair, adjusting his boot with a grunt. You look behind you at the newcomer and your heart leaps. It's another man, just as handsome as this one. He looks taller and lankier and he has deep scars adorning his skin, accompanied by faint freckles you can only see if you focus very hard. Which you are. His dusty dark-blond hair swooshes almost perfectly. He's breathtaking and you lose your train of thought. 

"Hi, I'm Remus," the man comes up and holds out his hand, "Ignore my friend here, he can be grumpy in the morning."

You nod, looking at Remus and then James.

"Shut up, Moony."

"Moony," you whisper, referring to the bookstore's name. You look at Remus directly and smile. "You're the owner."

Remus chuckles and hums, strolling behind the counter. He looks around the old-fashioned bookstore; the books are arranged on tall bookshelves all around, wooden ladders accompanying the slightly dusty shelves. The ceiling is painted mural style, adorned by golden trim. His hand smoothes over an old book and then he looks at your tray of pastries and drinks.

"And you must be my new neighbor."

You smile and point to one of the small sample cookies. "Chocolate chip," you say and smile at Remus, "you seem like a chocolate kinda guy."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, love," James interrupts from behind you. He's leaning on one of his crutches, his broad shoulders flexing as he rolls them. He's smiling at you, towering over you as he leans one of his arms on the counter. 

Your cheeks feel warm again. "Are you partners?" You ask. 

James laughs loudly, his pretty lips turning into a smile. "No," Remus answers, finishing the cookie as he wipes the crumbs from his lips. "Jamie here is just helping while he recovers from his injury."

Your gaze falls to James's boot and he catches your gaze, his jaw clenching as he captures your chin in his hand, keeping your eyes on him. Fuck, you think as you look at him and his touch sends a jolt of electricity, he's so handsome.  

"Eyes up here, darlin'," he grumbles. The boot is obviously a sour subject for him and your eyes snap up. 

You nod, entranced. James smirks and drops your chin, his hand lingering in the air. Remus clears his throat and your attention is pulled to him again. "Y'know, I was thinking we could do something fun with our businesses—" Remus offers, stealing your attention as James's smile disappears and he clears his throat, turning to look at some of the books on the shelf. 

You turn to Remus fully now, fiddling with the small sample cups. "Oh?"

Remus nods. "I mean, a cafe and bookstore? A match made in heaven," he explains his plan, "I'm thinking we could host some events. Perhaps an evening tea book club? And we could have opportunities to blend our businesses, for example, one book purchased here could earn them one coupon at Whisk and Whims and some bonus coupons if they read the book in your cafe. I could also have James build you a bookshelf, he's my personal handyman, with sample books from here to bring in more customers, ones they could buy potentially—"

"Who said I would build you the bookshelf— I'm injured—" James interjects.

"James," Remus sends his friend a glare and you smile.

"I'd like that," you interrupt, loving Remus's plan. You feel happy that you've found him and your smile widens. "Thank you," you say honestly.

Remus's heart leaps at that smile you wear and he has to shake himself, clearing his throat. "Oh, y-yeah, no problem," he says, his Welsh accent slipping out because he's nervous and James sends him a curious look.

When you return to your café, the interactions replay in your head. You switch the open sign, humming as the mental image of James's curly hair and Remus's smile causes you to feel an unfamiliar giddiness in your chest. The morning is slower, which you'd expected from your first day, but you don't mind as your mind wanders. 

Eventually, the clock strikes one, and that familiar bell rings. You look up from where you're rearranging the cookies in the window. There are only a few customers and you only have a few staff so you see him instantly. 

You jump up, rushing to the door to open it for him since he does have crutches at the moment. However, you almost slam into a doe-eyed redhead as she holds the door open for James. Your eyes widen and you stumble back, hand finding your apron as you suppress the embarrassment coursing your veins.

The girl turns to you, skin pale and eyes a shiny emerald green. Her cherry red hair is braided to the side and she looks behind her, smiling as James helps himself through the door. He lifts his head, staring at you.

"Y/n," he says your name, a little surprised to find you here and not behind the counter. Where you should be. He turns to his girlfriend—friend? And for the first time since you'd met him today, he smiles warmly, "Thanks, Lils," 

James looks at you again and this time, the smile stays. "Remus is still busy but I wanted to stop by and see how business is," he looks around the mostly empty room and his smile falters just enough for you to see the change. Your embarrassment grows. 

Lils interrupts him, "For your first day, it's quite good! It took Sirius months to fill out his store, right, Jamsie?" 

You look at her, grateful for the kind words, and unclench your hands from your apron. You push away the embarrassment and gesture to a small table near the window, "This one is free," you back away, your voice a little shaky as you ask them, "What can I get you?"

"I'll have another Autumn Swirl," James teases you as he staggers over with the girl's hand around his muscular arm. "Lily will have anything with matcha." He laughs and Lily rolls her eyes at him, but then she nods at you. 

"Thanks," she says and then smiles. Her smile is the prettiest thing you have ever seen and when you return behind the counter to make their order, you feel stupid. Of course, someone like James is already in a relationship! What were you thinking—developing a school-girl crush on a guy you'd met only hours ago? 

You shake your head, successfully diminishing the warmth from your cheeks but only worsening that pit in your stomach as you do your best to focus on the drinks instead of hearing James's, already intoxicating, laughter from across the room. 

tags: @nubigenouss

~ THANK YOU FOR READING! this is my first series. I'm nervous but hopefully you like this! very slow burn ;) ik Sirius isn't in this one, but he will be soon! ~

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

EIGHTEEN – the first petal

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: please note there is a written part after these 6 pictures!! don't forget to read it because it is part of something important.

“breathe.” yvette says as she pats your back. it was suffocating. the sink was bloodied up, splatters of blood that you had coughed up in a span of 5 minutes. mae runs in with a bottle in her hands.

“here, drink up.” she quickly opens the bottle up and hands it over to you. you took the bottle and quickly drank it.

“why didn’t you tell us it was this bad. we obviously knew that jake was your soulmate but we didn’t think that your body would react this way.” yvette looks at you.

“you’d honestly think that this disease would be a mythical thing but it is very much true.” mae says. you felt the tears fall down your face. yvette wipes them for you. she looks at you with such pity and such care.

“man, fuck that bitch.” she declares. “making such a sexy girl cry? not very girl’s girl coded of her.”

“she doesn’t know. i don’t think jake would tell her. besides, he doesn’t even know i’m his soulmate.”

“well, i think she would find out either ways. she’s such a weirdo.” mae huffs. yvette nods.

“what are you going to do?” yvette asks.

“live with it.”

“but you’re going to cough out blood if you keep seeing them so loving and disgusting.”

“it’s okay. once it gets worse, i’ll just get the surgery.”

“to remove your feelings? (name), you can’t seriously be thinking of doing this.” mae sighs. “i’ve seen people decide to go through with the surgery, they aren’t like themselves. once you do it, there will also be complications in the end. you won’t live for long.”

“there is no other way. if end up dead then so be it. i can’t let jake know. he’s very much in love with aria. he would never love me.” you sobbed. yvette pulls you closer and keeps you in her arms.

“hey hey, let’s not talk about death. you’re alive and well right now. let’s live your life to the fullest and make the best out of it. you aren’t dying.” she mutters. mae grabs your hand and lightly squeezes it.

“yeah, who cares about jake and aria. you have sunghoon, your friends, your brother and us. we are there for you.”

you were thankful for the people who were close to you. you had wiped your tears and nodded. “you’re right.”

there were a series of knocks at the bathroom door. yvette rolls her eyes and opens the door. “we’re having a sentimental moment here.”

“sorry, girls. just checking in to see if (name) is okay.” jay says.

“that or are you already missing mae?” yvette folds her arms. jay awkwardly laughs a little.

“maybe but i’m more concerned for my best friend of course.” you laughed a little and sniffled. you pushed mae forward towards jay.

“take her oh my god. you find out she’s your soulmate and you can’t stop being away from her.”

jay shrugs. sunghoon steps forward and hugs you.

"I'm not dying, hoon."

"just let me hug you. you need it." he says. your smile falters a little. "you can cry, you know?"

"i already cried just now."

"and? you can cry again and I wouldn't judge."

"I know you won't, hoon."

your brother comes up to you. "okay, break it up. can I hug my sister?"

sunghoon lets you go, and leehan easily replaces him. "when did you get so big?"

"I've always been big." he says. you laughed.

"okay, but you're my baby brother."

"yes, i am." you ruffled his hair and he pulls back from the hug.

"let's go back. those two are probably wondering where we are." taesan says.

"the last i saw them they were making out-" *whack* ni-ki winces when sun whacks him.

"don't even mention that." sunoo warns.

"right, sorry noona." ni-ki pouts. you sighed a little.

"it's fine, ni-ki."

you could see jake and aria coming closer to the group. jake was mainly concerned about everyone but aria...she's just kinda following jake.

"hey, why is everyone gathering around here?" jake asks.

"oh, there was a slight mishap so (name) called the girls over. we were worried so we waited outside for them." heeseung explains.

"you could've told us."

"yeah, but you were busy making out with aria so we didn't want to bother the both of you." sunghoon says. there was a petty tone underlying as he tells jake.

"what the fuck is your problem?" jake comes up to sunghoon. sunghoon scoffs.

"nothing."

"nothing? you said that the other time and then you went on a tangent hating on my girlfriend." jake folds his arms.

sunghoon rolls his eyes. "well, I'm right either ways. you were sooooo oblivious and busy with aria that even when (name) got hurt or had an issue you didn't care."

"she's fine now, isn't she? you guys took good care of her. she's in good hands, so i trust you guys to care for her. after all, I'm just her best friend and I am busy with my girlfriend. You don't understand me because you don't have a girlfriend!" jake yells at sunghoon.

you start to cough up again. this time when you look down at your hand, not only was there blood but there was a petal. the first petal to have ever appeared. you had looked up to see everyone staring at you. jake's jaw dropped when he saw the blood in your palms.

you didn't know what else to do other than run away. sunghoon glared at jake once more before he runs after you.

this was moving too fast...

were you dying?

taglist[open]: @sumzysworld @mitmit01 @moon3verland @baribaaari @byty2k @alex-is-sleeping @viagumi @txtlyn @belovedsthings @woninluv @dreamiestay @niniissus @kyutiepeachy @yoongisbaguetteshoes @squiishymeow @jjaammm @enhaz1 @illvding @woniejjang @bee-the-loser @laurradoesloveu @ckline35 @ningx2stan @hoonlvly @clampclover @xyzyx01 @victoriasimm @eneiyri @nshmrarki @woorcve @bubblytaetae @i03jae @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @l1wv00n @onlyhyunjin @kyanmeai @isa942572 @lisaswifey @alisonyus @firstclassjaylee @szkstay @enhamysunshines @milanco @hsbae @zyvlxqht @lixiebokie @wth121 @enahasblog @gongiz @anuisamazing @heestrawberries @gyehyeonist @nshmurarki @heelovesmeknot @silquids

(bolded can’t be tagged)

[allmoshnobrain]

After a bad date leaves you with a twisted ankle, your quiet but protective roommate steps in to help.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and a twisted ankle

✦ a/n: alright so this may or may be not based on my weekend lol i do love the roommate dynamics so if you guys have any suggestions or ideas for this au feel free to send me an ask! hope you enjoy the read 🖤

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Tell me how much it hurts,” he says, lightly pressing his fingers against your swollen skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, glancing down at him as he kneels in front of the couch, his fingers brushing over your ankle. He’s not being rough, you’re just in pretty bad shape right now.

“It hurts,” you say, keeping it simple, and he scoffs softly at the obvious answer. “I think it’s kinda swollen.”

“You think?” your roommate lets go of your foot, standing up and raising an eyebrow at you. “Remind me again how this happened, sweetheart.”

You blush. It’s Sunday morning, sunny, with a soft breeze coming in through the living room window. A perfect day for a walk, to get some fresh air — except you’re stuck on the couch with a twisted ankle, thanks to last night’s drinking that got a bit out of hand.

“I was out drinking with a date,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up. “But I didn’t really eat much yesterday, so I guess I… overdid it. He was walking me home, and I tripped and twisted my ankle.”

“And what did he do?” Simon asks, sitting down next to you on the couch. You let out a soft noise as he gently grabs your legs, putting them on his lap. One hand rests on your knee, his thumb lazily drawing small circles on your skin.

“He wanted to call an ambulance, but I thought that was a bit much. So I just had him help me up, and we walked back. We weren’t far anyway.”

“You had to walk with a twisted ankle,” he said in that flat tone that made it obvious he was annoyed — not with you, but probably with your date. “Why didn’t he just carry you?”

“I don’t think he could… I’m too heavy,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“I can carry you just fine,” he grumbles. “What are you doing going out with guys who can’t even carry you?”

You don’t respond, just lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes. You can feel Simon’s hand still on your knee — his skin is rough but warm. He’d come home from whatever he’d been up to on Saturday night, only to find you passed out on the couch with a very obviously swollen and painful ankle.

Simon was a quiet, reserved roommate, and he wasn’t really around much, but that didn’t mean you two hadn’t built your own kind of intimacy over the last two years of living together. So, when he saw you were hurt, he took it upon himself to check things out. You’d told him it was just a twisted ankle and a moral hangover. Nothing too serious. But clearly, he didn’t think it was as "nothing" as you made it sound.

“I’m sure he’s never gonna want to see me again,” you mumble, eyes still closed. Simon’s thumb stops moving on your skin, a clear sign he heard you.

“Who?” he asks. You open your eyes to find him staring right at you, eyes serious and focused.

“My date.”

“Good,” Simon mutters. “He couldn’t even take care of you after you got hurt. Should’ve carried you upstairs, helped you clean up.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” you say, a little defensive, which makes him chuckle.

“Yeah? Then why are you still stuck on this couch instead of upstairs getting a shower and some proper rest?” He smirks, and you just roll your eyes without answering.

“Where would you even be without me?” he sighs, standing up. You let out a small, surprised noise as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms, holding you close. You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, the sudden move and how close he is making your heart race. “You’re lucky you’ve got me, princess.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, but you can’t help closing your eyes and letting out a small, relieved sigh.

Because yeah, you know you are.

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love racing, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[l4ndonorizz]

first date gone wrong / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: videoclub - roi

summary: a chaotic first date with Lando Norris—from spilled wine to fire alarms—turns into an unforgettable night, proving that sometimes, disaster leads to the best moments

wc: 1.5k

You had been waiting for this night for what felt like forever. After months of playful banter, lingering looks, and not-so-subtle flirting, Lando had finally asked you out. When he suggested dinner at a trendy new restaurant in the heart of the city, your excitement had skyrocketed. You spent far too long getting ready, agonizing over what to wear, how to do your hair, and if your nerves were showing.

This was Lando Norris, after all. Charming, witty, and undeniably attractive—not to mention one of the most talented drivers in Formula 1. The thought of this date being a disaster hadn’t even crossed your mind.

But perfect was far from how things were turning out.

The first sign of disaster came when Lando texted you, telling you he was running late. Something about getting stuck in traffic after a last-minute sim session. Typical. Still, when he finally showed up, his sheepish grin and casual apology had you forgiving him instantly.

“Sorry, love. I swear, the city just conspires against me,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping back to give you a once-over. His eyes widened, clearly impressed. “You look...wow.”

Your cheeks heated at the compliment, but before you could respond, the maître d’ cleared his throat, reminding you both that you were, in fact, standing in the entrance of a fancy restaurant, blocking traffic.

Once seated, things seemed to fall into place. The restaurant was beautiful—dimly lit with a warm, inviting atmosphere. The soft glow of candlelight flickered between you, and the background noise of clinking glasses and murmured conversations created the perfect ambiance. Lando, dressed in a casual suit jacket and his signature charm, leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, clearly ready to dive into the night.

“So,” he said, flashing you a grin, “how have I managed to convince you to actually go out with me?”

You rolled your eyes, playing along. “Convince me? More like I was waiting for you to finally get a clue.”

Lando let out a bark of laughter, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Fair point. I guess I’m a bit slow off the line sometimes.”

The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with Lando. He made you laugh without even trying, and before you knew it, you were both swapping stories about your lives, joking about past experiences, and sharing little pieces of yourselves that you hadn’t before. It felt effortless—like you’d been doing this for ages.

That is, until the drinks arrived.

As the waiter set the glasses down, one of them tipped slightly, sending red wine spilling all over your lap. You gasped, pushing your chair back in shock as the cold liquid seeped into your clothes.

“Oh, no,” you muttered, trying to dab at your dress with a napkin.

Lando was instantly on his feet, grabbing napkins and doing his best to help. “I’m so sorry! I’ll—uh, I’ll get them to bring something else. Can we get some towels?” he called out to the waiter, who looked equally mortified.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a ridiculous situation—your carefully chosen outfit now stained with wine—but the way Lando was scrambling to fix things made it impossible to be upset. “Well, at least I didn’t wear white.”

Lando grinned, though his eyes were full of guilt. “I swear this never happens…except for that one time I spilled water all over my steering wheel during a stream.”

You chuckled. “You’re not exactly selling yourself here.”

“Stick around. I promise I get better,” he said with a wink, his teasing easing the tension.

Once the wine debacle was resolved, things seemed to settle again. The waiter brought fresh drinks, and you resumed your conversation, laughing about the incident. But as the evening continued, so did the mishaps.

Just as your food arrived, the fire alarm went off. You stared at each other in confusion, until one of the waiters rushed over, explaining that someone in the kitchen had overcooked a dish, and the smoke had set off the alarm. The entire restaurant had to be evacuated.

You and Lando found yourselves standing outside in the chilly night air, arms crossed as you waited for the chaos to die down. The sight of him, bundled up in his jacket with his hair slightly tousled from the wind, was somehow even more charming.

“Well,” Lando said with a wry smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is going well.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Is this part of your plan? To make this the most chaotic date ever?”

Lando grinned sheepishly. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

The restaurant staff eventually got the situation under control, and you were allowed back inside. Your food was still warm, surprisingly, and it looked delicious. For a few blissful moments, it seemed like things were back on track.

Until, of course, Lando knocked over his drink. Again.

The glass tumbled across the table, the contents spilling everywhere. You reached out instinctively, trying to catch it, but it was too late. The drink splashed onto the floor, and in a comedy of errors, the waiter—already flustered from the earlier fire alarm—slipped on the liquid, sending the rest of the meal crashing down with him.

You and Lando sat in stunned silence for a moment before both of you burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Well,” you managed between giggles, “at least the food didn’t end up in my lap this time.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m officially the worst date ever. Like, this is rock bottom.”

You wiped away a tear from laughing so hard and gave him a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know, I think this is pretty unforgettable.”

“Unforgettable in the worst possible way,” he groaned, though you could see the humor returning to his eyes. “I swear, I’ll make it up to you. How about a second date? One where we don’t destroy an entire restaurant?”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest. “Only if it ends with a McFlurry.”

Lando chuckled, nodding. “Deal.”

By the time you both finally finished the salvaged portions of your meal, the restaurant staff had given up on trying to maintain any semblance of order. You could feel the eyes of the other patrons on you, some clearly entertained by your evening’s chaos, while others just wanted you both out of there before another disaster struck.

When you left the restaurant, the air was cool and crisp, the city buzzing quietly around you. Lando reached for your hand as you walked down the street, his fingers lacing with yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“This is turning into the weirdest night,” you said with a laugh, glancing up at him.

He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I don’t know. I think it’s one of the best.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Even after everything that went wrong?”

Lando shrugged, his gaze softening. “Yeah. Because I’m with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment, but your heart still skipped a beat. You had to admit—there was something charming about the whole mess of a night. It was chaotic, unpredictable, and far from perfect, but somehow, it felt like exactly what you both needed.

As you continued walking, the conversation turned light again, the easy rhythm between you returning as you joked about the disaster of a date. But there was an undercurrent now—something deeper that hadn’t been there before. The casual touches, the lingering glances—it all felt like more than just playful teasing now.

By the time you reached your car, the energy between you had shifted. Lando stopped, turning to face you, his hand still wrapped around yours.

“Thanks for not running away mid-date,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You smiled, stepping a little closer to him. “Hey, I like a bit of chaos. Keeps things interesting.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting your eyes again. The playful banter from earlier was gone, replaced by something heavier—something that made your heart race.

“I guess…chaos works for us,” Lando murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, Lando closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping the side of your face as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But when you kissed him back, the hesitation disappeared, and the kiss deepened, warm and full of the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for months.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you standing there, lost in the moment. His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily.

“Well,” Lando said with a breathless chuckle, “I’d say that was the best part of the night.”

You smiled, your heart still racing. “Yeah. I’d say it was worth all the chaos.”

[imagine-you]

don't turn your back on me [old man logan/reader]

Summary: "You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan." The first in a series of spinoffs from my main fic in my Home 'verse that explores different Wolverine variants and their relationships with the reader in their universes. Word Count: 6.3k Author's Notes: This isn't so much based on the movie Logan as it is the comic series Old Man Logan. In that series, it's Logan who kills the X-Men and not Professor X. Next up: Marvel Zombies/What If? crossover with zombified Wolverine and side Bucky/Reader for Halloween!

Read on AO3

You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan.  

You knew something was wrong before you even stepped through the doors of the mansion. It was late, but the mansion had never been so eerily still. It was always so full of life at every hour, with chatter and laughter and yelling. 

You weren't expecting the first body sprawled on the floor of the foyer. You fell to your knees, reaching out a shaky hand to feel for a sign of life, but it was pointless.  

Scott was dead.  

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, staring at him, before you realized he wasn't the only body. You followed the trail of fallen through the hallways of the mansion, dizzy and disoriented. You hadn't been gone for long, only a few hours. But how had you come back to this? How could any of this have happened? 

There was a shifting in your periphery, someone walking along the edge of the room, but your attention was caught by something else.  

It was Logan.  

You felt your breath leave you all in a rush at the sight before you. Logan, claws deep in Ororo's chest, snarling in her face as the life drained from her.  

"Logan?" 

Your voice sounded small, terrified, and for a moment you didn't even realize it was yours. Your heart was pounding as he slowly turned his gaze on you. He looked nearly feral, completely unaware of his surroundings. The man you loved more than anyone else would have never hurt Ororo or Scott no matter how much he fought with him. The man you loved wouldn't be getting to his feet, his claws still unsheathed, as he began to approach you. The man you loved wouldn't dare raise a hand, ready to sink his claws into you, his expression clouded with fury.  

"Victor," he snarled, poised to strike. "I should've known you'd be in on this," he spat before slashing down.  

You were quick to raise a forcefield, holding it in front of you like a shield to fend off his attack. He kept advancing, his movements frenzied as he tried to land a blow.  

All the while, there was that awareness at the edge of your vision. It was bothering you, but you couldn't take your eyes off Logan. He was single-minded in his attack, and he kept trying to break through your barrier.  

"Logan!" You shouted, hoping to get through to him. "Logan, it's me," you pleaded, keeping your defenses raised.  

You had a feeling that your current tactic wasn't going to work. Not if you wanted to figure out why the hell Logan had killed so many of his own team, his family, and why he thought you were Victor. So, you let yourself go invisible, quickly dropping your forcefield and moving off to the side.  

Logan stumbled forward, his claws getting momentarily stuck in the wall, before he pulled them free.  

"You can't hide from me, Victor," he roared, anger written into the lines of his body.  

You kept yourself hidden, not wanting to let Logan find you before you could figure out what the hell was going on. It was there, just on the edge of your vision, a shimmer of air that begged to be uncovered.  

You were so focused on finding the intruder that you backed right into a table, sending a vase toppling off the side. The sound of it crashing to the floor was loud, jarringly loud, in the room and Logan's eyes unerringly fixed on you.  

"There you are," he growled, his claws catching the light and sending your heart racing. "You won't get away from me that easily," he continued, his fist pulled back, poised to bring his claws down right into your throat.  

You managed to finally snag the anomaly in a forcefield, easily crushing it between one beat of your heart and the next. The tips of Logan's claws had just brushed against your throat when he reeled back, blinking at you in alarm.  

"Y/N? What the hell is going on? Where's Victor?" 

"Logan, look at me," you said, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, not wanting him to see the destruction that had befallen the mansion. You knew once he realized what happened, once he saw the bodies, he would lose it all over again. For now, you needed him here with you. "Victor was never here. I don't know what he showed you, but it wasn't your fault, okay?" 

"What?" Logan's brow furrowed in confusion, and he tried to turn his head, but you held firm. He could have easily shaken you off, but he seemed to realize it was what you needed from him. "Who? What are you talking about? They all showed up and just started attacking. I got most of them, I think, but--" 

"Mysterio," you blurted, recognizing the cape and glass shards of his helmet. Wade had always called him the magic fishbowl, but you couldn't even find humor in it now. "Mysterio must've created an illusion," you started to explain, not knowing how to keep your voice even. Your hands were shaking as you held his face, and you could feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn't know the extent of the damage, but the blood that coated nearly every surface didn't bode well for the team.  

"What," Logan snapped, finally tearing free of your hold. "But I got the young ones out. And then the team disappeared and then...and then...," he froze, his eyes finally taking in the outcome of his unintentional slaughter. "But it wasn't them," he muttered, his eyes focused in on the blood that had pooled beneath Jubilee's head. "It wasn't them, I swear," he said before he turned away from you. He cried out in anguish before falling to his knees. His head fell into his hands, and you could see his shoulders begin to shake.  

You shuffled forward, making sure to not make any sudden movements. You reached out a hand, briefly landing it on Logan's shoulder, but he shook you off.  

"Don't touch me," he snarled, snapping his head up. He looked over his shoulder in your direction but wouldn't make eye contact. "I did this." 

It sounded final, a revelation that would change Logan forever, and you knew he was starting to slip away from you.  

"Logan, it wasn't your fault. Mysterio tricked you and you couldn't have--" 

"I did this," Logan insisted, staring down at the blood on his hands. Suddenly, he was on his feet, and his hands were ripping at his uniform. He was half-naked by the time he turned a wild look on you before he was gone, storming out of the mansion.  

"Logan," you pleaded, following after him. You couldn't look at the bodies anymore and you couldn't stay at the mansion. Logan had always been your home, your everything, and you couldn't let him leave you now.  

By the time you got outside, there was no sign of Logan anywhere. You spotted something on the ground, and you bent down to pick it up. It was a scrap of his X-Men uniform, left abandoned and forgotten. You held it close to your chest before you took a few steps forward, eyeing the forest that bordered the property.  

Logan was somewhere in there and you intended to find him.  

Rumors and stories haunted you during the years you spent on Logan's trail. He never stayed in one place for too long, fleeing from location to location, as if the death he so easily craved was on his heels.  

You supposed, in a way, that was true.  

Logan refused to pop his claws. He didn't want to fight, all of his desire to be a hero had been torn out of him the night he unknowingly felled the X-Men. He suffered by himself, knowing that he couldn't die, so he would have to live with the memories of his team, his family dead.  

You wanted to take him by the shoulders and scream at him that you were still alive. He wasn't to blame for what happened to the X-Men, but he was to blame for what happened between the two of you. Did any of it mean so little to him? Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the proposal and the promises of a future together simply vanish along with him the night that changed everything?  

You truly had nothing except for the small, brittle hope you were harboring that Logan would finally just stop running. So, you kept chasing him and cleaning up his messes along the way, because you felt like it was all you could do.  Logan was yours, the one person in the whole world that you knew was just for you. He had promised, with stolen kisses before you had to run off to teach mutant history or when he pressed you down into your bedsheets ready to wreck you in the best way, that you were his too.  

The fact that he never once looked back, never stayed in one place too long just to try to see if you could catch up, hurt more than you had words to describe.  

When the heroes fell, the villains rose. The country changed, becoming a playground for every human, mutant, and alien with villainous intent. Fear permeated the air everywhere you went, people terrified for their lives and their families, knowing that no one was coming to save them.  

During those years, you became known as Logan's shadow. Logan was no longer the Wolverine and wouldn't dare flash his claws, but you would happily wield whatever weapon necessary to make sure no one went after him. Where Logan went, death followed, because it fell on you to leave the body count in his wake.  

You saved people and gave them their livelihoods back, because you would never have yours again. You killed slumlords and murderers and anyone who sought joy from destruction, because it was people like them who had stolen your future with Logan from you. You watched Logan's back from afar and craved his touch, his look, his assurance, but going without every time.  

You had scars that would never heal and new terrors to haunt you in the night, but all you wanted was him. You felt like you were going insane, relentlessly chasing something you might never have again, but you found it difficult to relinquish hope.  

 You figured sooner or later, you would get lucky. If only for a moment, you just wanted to be in the same room as him. You wanted to walk into a space without knowing that you had missed him by only minutes before having to run after him again.  

You lucked out years down the line after taking out one of Norman Osborn's lackies in an abandoned warehouse district. You were in Osborn County, near what used to be Detroit, when you heard Logan's gruff voice coming from one of the buildings. He sounded tired, wrecked, and there was someone else's voice taunting him.  

"Can't get little Wolverine to come and play, can I? Too bad he's not here to join the party, because it's about to get real fun," the voice crowed before you heard a new voice.  

"Please! He's all I have," a woman begged, her voice breaking into a sob.  

You had been tracking Logan for long enough that you knew he was usually alone. So, you didn’t know how he had managed to stick around long enough to see the damage you were about to do. It was the usual routine for you two. Trouble found Logan, Logan fled, and you swept in and took care of the problem.  

This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go, and you felt a little thrill of anticipation run through you at the thought of seeing him.  

You hadn’t been this close to him in years, and you wondered why he was still hanging around. You weren't sure if it was where he had been crashing before moving on, but now as you were trying to get a glimpse into the building, you could see a makeshift camp in the corner of the room.  

Logan was on his knees, glaring at someone, and when you shifted to the side, you could see a man with a knife to a kid's throat. He didn't look older than fifteen, tears streaming down his face as he stared death down. There was also a woman with another guy behind her, holding a gun to her head.  

"Just kill me," the woman begged, holding her hands out. “Kill me and let him go. He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

"You don't pay us and now we kill your boy," the guy behind her spat. "And lookie here, we've got a live audience," he nodded over at Logan. "'cept he's not gonna do anything, 'cause he's a chickenshit now." 

Logan looked so defeated and you knew he was struggling with himself. He wanted to help the woman and her son, but he was done killing. You watched him for a moment, so relieved to even just see him, despite the circumstances.  

Logan drew in a deep breath before his head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours where you were still hidden in the darkness. He took another breath, and you knew he had caught your scent. His expression morphed from disbelief to heartbreak to acceptance. He dipped his head in a tiny nod, silently giving you the go ahead.  

You stepped out of the shadows that had shielded you, shedding your invisibility, and smirked at the two guys who had landed themselves on your target list.  

"He might not do anything," you started, forming a forcefield around the one with the knife. "But I sure as hell will." 

"What the hell?" The one with the gun gasped, turning it on you.  

You easily deflected the bullet with a forcefield while you trapped the guy with the knife. You snapped your forcefield closed, only his hand holding the knife free outside of it, and watched it fall to the ground. Blood began to coat the sides of your forcefield while the guy screamed in agony.  

You formed another forcefield around the gun in the other guy's hand and jerked it free, watching him stumble in an attempt to pull it back. It clattered uselessly to the floor, several feet away and out of reach.  

You let another forcefield encase the guy's head, offering him a goodbye wave, before you let the sides collapse, taking his skull with it. His body fell to the ground, limbs still uselessly twitching, as the field held the remnants of his brain and bones and eyes. You let it all fall to the floor with a grotesque splat before turning your attention on the other guy who was still mourning the loss of his hand.  

The woman had grabbed her son and was clutching at his shoulders, desperately trying to prove to herself that he was unharmed. Once she was satisfied, she pulled him close and then fled for the door, not even sparing a glance back as you pried the knife from the guy's disembodied hand.  

You turned towards the man still in your forcefield and let it drop. He raised his head to sneer up at you.  

"You'll regret this," he claimed, falling back onto the floor. "People are payin' attention to you! You can't just do whatever the hell you want." 

"Yeah, whatever," you sighed, before taking the knife and striking out with it, catching him in the chest.  

You watched the man die, his blood pooling at your feet, before you turned your attention towards the other man snared in one of your forcefields.  

Logan's shoulders were slumped as you approached him.  

"Don't," he sighed, shaking his head. He was kneeling on the floor, leaning his forehead against your forcefield, but he wasn't actively trying to escape.  

He knew it would be a useless endeavor.  

You took a precious moment to catalogue all the little differences you noticed since the last time you saw him. His hair now had a couple of streaks of grey and the lines in his face were more pronounced. Logan had started to age, just the tiniest bit, and you hated that you had missed the opportunity to see him evolve over the years. It was another thing he had denied you and you didn’t know if you would ever fully forgive him for it.  

"I've waited years for this moment," you reminded him, sinking to your knees so you were at his level. "I'm not going anywhere, Logan, and until you hear me out, you aren't either." 

Logan had his eyes closed, but he finally opened them to meet yours. "What do you want?" 

You let out a humorless laugh, reaching a hand out to place it against the forcefield.  

"You," you answered, because it should have been obvious. "I've only ever wanted you, but you don't want me. Not anymore. Or else you wouldn't have run from me. Not for ten fucking years." 

Logan snorted, sitting back enough to give you a disbelieving look. "I've always wanted you," he refuted, briefly letting the want and longing he had been suppressing flash across his face. "But I don't deserve you. Not after what I did." 

"I don't blame you," you assured him, your hands beginning to tremble. You wanted so badly to reach out and pull him into your arms, but you were scared to drop your forcefield. He would run away again, and you were tired of him leaving you in the dust. "I wouldn't have chased you all these years if I thought for one second that you were to blame." 

"Let me go," he begged you. "I'm not that guy anymore. I can't be that guy for you anymore." 

"Yes, you can," you hissed, anger starting to rise, overtaking desperation. "I don't want Wolverine, I've only ever wanted you, Logan. You don't have to be a hero again, but I just want you with me. Isn't that enough? Just us?" 

Logan wouldn't meet your eyes, and you crashed your fist into your forcefield, hating that he wouldn't even look at you. Your heart was breaking all over again and a part of you was starting to wish you hadn't caught up to him at all.  

"Stop being a coward," you snarled, getting to your feet. You turned your back on Logan and walked away from him, relishing the idea of making him chase after you for once. "You're not the only one in pain," you reminded him. "You're not the only one who lost their entire family that night. But the difference between us is you chose to run away from me, but I didn't want that. I never wanted you to leave me, but you didn't even give me the fucking choice." Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, and you could barely keep them from shaking. "You know what," you started, finally making your decision. "If you want to go, then you can fucking leave again." You dropped your forcefield, keeping your back to him. You didn't know what was more pathetic. That you couldn't watch him abandon you again or that you knew you would still follow him once he was gone.  

You weren't prepared for Logan's hand on your shoulder or when he turned you around to look at him. His expression was a mix of despair and frustration and want.  

"You want me that much?" He got out between gritted teeth. "You want the guy who murdered our family? Who has only ever thought of you this whole time and what was best for you?" 

"That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. If you gave a shit about me, you would stop running," you seethed at him. "The guy who murdered our family is dead, because I fucking killed him! All you've done for the past ten years is run, Logan. Aren't you fucking tired of running?" 

"You deserve better than me," he argued, his hands coming up to grip your arms. "Why can't you just let me go?" 

"Because I fucking love you, you absolute moron," you snarled before pressing your lips to his, not wanting to argue any longer. You had spent ten years alone, desolate and grieving, and when you imagined this moment during lonely nights, you never quite managed to think it would be so full of hostility.  

Logan froze for a moment before he responded in kind. His hands were tight bands around your forearms and his teeth nipped at your lips, begging entrance you eagerly granted. You slipped your hands beneath his shirt and raked your nails down his back, wanting to make him hurt. You wished you could leave your mark on him, but he would only heal within seconds.  

Harsh kisses were followed by soft whimpers, and you tore your mouth free, obligingly baring your neck to him when he trailed his lips along your jaw towards your throat. He bit kisses into your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue, before moving on to the next one.  

You didn't know how you got across the room or when he lowered you down onto his makeshift bed. All you could recognize was that Logan was holding you in his arms and whispering a promise against your mouth.  

He still loved you.  

He told you that over and over again until you started to believe him.  

Logan was out of his shirt before you could get rid of yours. He reached down, helping you tug your shirt up over your head before his hands fell to the waistband of your jeans. He met your eyes, silently asking permission, and you nodded your head, hoping you didn't appear too eager.  

It had been so long since you felt Logan and you didn't realize just how much you needed him. The feel of his body against yours and his hands wrapped around your hips and his breath warming the side of your neck before he sucked another kiss into your flesh.  

It felt like an eternity before you were both completely bared to each other. Logan was kneeling on the floor, a question in his eyes, and you nodded your head. Your legs fell open easily, admitting Logan until he was all you could feel.  

The sex was fast and nearly punishing, both of you taking out years of aggression and want on the other. It was all-consuming, you could feel, hear, taste, see, and smell nothing but Logan. His tongue was in your mouth and your legs were wrapped around his hips, urging him to quicken his pace. You were covered in bruises and aching, but all you could think about was how much you had missed Logan. You poured every ounce of your want into the moans being wrung out of you and when you gasped, your head tilted back as you chased your end, all you could think about on the fall down was how much you didn't want it to be over.  

You half-expected Logan to get up and leave, but he stayed right there with you. He maneuvered the two of you until he was on his back and you were curled up into his side, your head resting on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.  

You chanced a glance up at him, terrified that it had all been a dream. "I'm scared," you found yourself admitting.  

Logan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. "Why scared?" 

You had so many things to be scared about, but most of all you were scared that Logan was already slipping away from you again.  

You didn't want to confess that, so you settled for something else.  

"My luck is going to run out eventually," you pointed out with a grimace. "You go around killing villains in a country run by villains, and the wrong people take notice. They'll get me sooner or later. That dead guy over there said as much earlier." 

Logan was silent for a few torturous, drawn-out moments before he finally sighed. "Then you should go home. Stop running after me." 

You let out an annoyed huff before you sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. "Home, Logan? I don't have a home. You," you stressed, poking him in the chest, "are my home, you idiot." You turned away from him, reaching out for your clothes. You were suddenly freezing, and you had no desire to run around in the same conversational circles with Logan again.  

"Just, c'mere," Logan breathed, reaching out to tug you back into his arms once you were dressed again. "I don't know if I'll ever stop running," he confessed, holding tight when you made to move away again. "Because every time I think about it, I remember their blood on my hands. They were my family and I was supposed to protect them, but I slaughtered them. They screamed, you know, but I thought it was Sinister and Bullseye and other jackasses we'd spent our whole lives fighting. But it was Storm, Cyclops, Jubilee, Beast," he listed, his grip tightening on you with each one. "And it was almost you. Mysterio had me so convinced you were Victor, I was about to slice your head off with my claws. I tried so hard to just get rid of myself, because I knew I'd never be able to erase what I did. I don't know how to just stand still and face what I've done. But God, you make me want to try. You make me want to be better, but all I've done is hurt you and force you to kill for me. I'm the reason you've got that target on your back." 

"It's not your fault," you reiterated for what you felt like must have been the thousandth time since the night the X-Men fell. "Mysterio and all those villains who took advantage of what happened to our family are to blame. You loved them all so much and they knew that, Logan. I'm not asking you to face your demons for me, but I just want to go with you where you go and not arrive days later, searching for you. If you can't stay still, then that's okay, because I'll run with you." 

Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling in a deep breath, drawing in your scent. "Get some rest," he replied, keeping you pressed close to him. "I get the feeling you haven't had a good night's sleep in a while. I'll watch out for you." 

You knew it was Logan's way of avoiding the issue, but you still felt a breath of relief escape you. Half the time, you had to sleep with one hand on a weapon, waiting for an attack. You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep feeling safe, and now in Logan's hold, you could already feel yourself begin to drift off.  

You took a chance, pressing a brief kiss to Logan's shoulder. "I love you," you whispered, knowing he would hear you.  

You were asleep before you could hear Logan's response, if he even had one.  

When you woke in the morning, you were alone.  

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself believe that Logan was coming back, before you forced yourself to face reality.  

As you stood, you tried to stretch the aches out of your body. Sleeping on the floor hadn't been the brightest idea, but when you had been so fully embraced by Logan, it hadn't mattered. Now, you were cold, alone, and felt incredibly vulnerable.  

Later, you would blame the heartbreak that had transcended into resignation. You were so blinded by being left behind again that you didn't even notice the hit coming.  

Something rolled across the floor and landed right at your feet. It took you a stupidly long moment to realize it was one of Osborn's pumpkin bombs. You brought your hands up, only having enough time to form a half-assed forcefield, before the bomb went off.  

You were thrown back into the wall behind you before falling to the floor, your head bouncing painfully off your forcefield on the way down. You didn't even realize you had dropped it until a tentacle slammed down into the floor beside you followed by another on your other side, cutting off any hope of an exit you might have.  

When your vision focused again, you saw three figures staring down at you.  

"Wakey wakey," Green Goblin sang, tilting his head to the side as he observed you. "We've been looking for you." 

"Thought you could escape us?" Victor Creed growled, flexing his claws.  

You didn't know whether it was hilarious or depressing that Logan had left you, but his brother had somehow shown up in his place. As you stared up at the last villain, Omega Red, you wondered how you could have been so stupid. You had let your guard down, for Logan, and now you were going to get yourself killed. You had spent years killing goons and lackies and now their bosses were here to exact revenge.  

If you were going down, then you resolved to at least try to take someone with you.  

Victor would be the easiest, so you turned a smirk up at him. He seemed briefly confused before you formed a forcefield around his body and attempted to crush him, but it was at that moment Osborn flipped a switch on the device strapped to his wrist. At the same time, Omega Red used one of his tentacles, the end of it pointed into a sharp lance, and slammed it down into your calf. You could feel the bone break and you instinctively tried to jerk away from him, but you couldn't go anywhere. The attack was followed up by a mist spraying from Osborn's device and you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire.  

You knew you were screaming, and you wished for nothing more than the ability to stop, but pain had enveloped you so completely. You weren't even sure if the others were actively hurting you or Norman just wanted to you to lose your mind. After your screams died out, simply because your throat felt worn raw and you couldn't pull in anymore breath into your lungs, Norman sprayed another mist.  

The relief was nearly instantaneous, but the moment was short-lived.  

You were shaking uncontrollably, and you knew without a doubt that you couldn't use your power even if you had the energy to try. You felt so weakened that you could barely lift your head when Victor crouched over you. He slashed his claws across your face, leaving blood to pour freely from the gash across your cheek.  

"Too bad my brother doesn't want you anymore," he sneered, pressing his claws to your shoulder before digging in.  

You didn't have it in you to scream anymore and you felt your head loll forward, dark spots dancing in your vision.  

You knew there was no walking away from this. At least, you consoled yourself, you had known Logan for one more night. It might not have been perfect, but it was what you needed. Victor's claws came up to caress your throat and you imagined them easily slicing through your flesh, ending your life.  

You closed your eyes, wanting to think about nothing but Logan in your final moments, when you heard his voice.  

"Get the fuck away from her," Logan snarled, and you were half-convinced that it was all in your head. He should have been long gone by now, already crossing state borders in a bid to put some distance between the two of you.  

But when you managed to open your eyes, it was to see Logan at Omega Red's back. Osborn was simply watching Logan, as if he was waiting for the show, and Omega Red already had his tentacles curling out to attack Logan.  

"Looks like little Logan has come out to play," Osborn mocked, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. He went back to the device on his wrist, and you whimpered at the idea of the unceasing pain.  

Logan shot you a worried look, but he didn't take his attention away from the three villains threatening you. He sidestepped one of Omega Red's attacks, making it look nearly effortless.  

"I said get the fuck away from her," Logan reiterated, turning his attention on Victor. "I'm not gonna ask you again, bub." 

Victor laughed, letting his claws break the skin of your throat. "I'm not scared of you. You haven't popped your claws in years. You're just a pathetic piece of shit, Logan, and now you're gonna watch your girlfriend die." 

Logan watched the blood trail down your neck before he met your eyes. There was a moment when all you could see was the fear in Logan's eyes when you sincerely thought he was going to watch Victor slash your throat. You knew that losing another person he loved would destroy him all over again and you didn't want him to have to watch.  

"Just go," you pleaded, not wanting your death on Logan's conscience as well. "It's okay." 

Logan looked so heartbroken for a moment, his eyes never once leaving yours as his hands began to tremble. But then you could see rage fall over him and he flicked his wrists, letting his claws descend.  

Between one slow blink of your eyes and the next, Logan was standing behind Victor. 

"The name's not Logan," he started, before he made a quick movement that sunk his claws right into Victor's neck. "It's Wolverine," he snarled before pulling his claws free, messy and bloody, leaving Victor's head to roll back on his shoulders before falling to the floor.  

Osborn and Omega Red didn't move for one shocked moment before they both descended on Logan. He made quick work of Green Goblin, stabbing him over and over again with his claws until Osborn's insides were spilling out of him and his face was indistinguishable beneath his cracked mask.  

Omega Red proved to be a tougher challenge for Logan. His claws didn't do much to Omega Red and you knew that it might be hours before either one of them got the upper hand. You managed to use all the strength you had reserved, waiting for your perfect moment to strike, before forming a forcefield around Omega Red. He struck out, trying to pierce through it with his tentacles, but you were determined not to let him go anywhere.  

You let it shrink and shrink, keeping a tight hold on your control. You wanted to savor Omega Red's demise, knowing that it might be the last time you got to take down a villain. You finally closed your hand into a fist, crushing Omega Red in your forcefield, stubbornly holding it long after you knew he was dead.  

Logan was at your side, pressing a torn blanket to the wound in your leg.  

"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothed, and you realized then that you had been reaching out for him, your breath leaving you on a whimper. "I'm sorry. I never should've left you here." He was careful as he slid one arm beneath your knees and used the other to brace your back. "Arms around my neck," he ordered, barely giving you time to comply before he was lifting you up.  

"Where are we going?" You croaked, your throat sore and limbs weak as you clung to him.  

"Anywhere but here," Logan answered, carrying you out of the warehouse. "Someone's gonna come sniffing around sooner or later and I want to get you as far away from here as I can." 

You could feel yourself beginning to drift now that your adrenaline had faded. "Will you be there when I wake up?" You made yourself ask, terrified that Logan would drop you off at a hospital and make a break for it.  

"I'm never leaving you again," Logan promised you as he approached a van.  

You weren't sure where he got it, but you were grateful for it when he helped you lie down in the back of it.  

You must have given him a skeptical look, because Logan grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. "From now on, we'll run together," he said, cupping a hand to your cheek. "If you'll have me," he amended, brushing his fingers over the cuts Victor had left on your face. "I wouldn't forgive me if I was you." 

"Yeah, well, you're not me," you pointed out, bringing a hand up to squeeze his wrist. "And I love you, Logan. I never stopped loving you." You had crossed state lines and fought and bled and cried all for Logan. You would have kept chasing him for the rest of your life, because he was all you had.  

Logan gifted you an uncertain smile and you knew he felt like he didn't deserve your devotion. "I'll spend the rest of my life earning that," he told you before pressing a kiss to your forehead.  

"I never wanted you to have to be the Wolverine again," you tried to console him, knowing how much he had sacrificed letting his claws free again. "But thank you for saving me." 

Logan huffed out an amused breath, gifting you with a look like he couldn't believe you were real. "You're the one who saved me," he pointed out, maneuvering himself until he could lie down at your side. Your eyelids had started to droop and you were fighting sleep. "Now, try to get some rest. I'll be here when you're ready to wake up." 

You reached out, grasping Logan's hand in yours. "I'm going to hold you to that," you let him know before letting yourself fall asleep, finally feeling safe with the knowledge that Logan wasn't planning on leaving you again. 

Author's Notes: @the-gentle-spirit had the idea that each Wolverine had their own Y/N and that the Y/N in the main fic 'won't somebody come take me home' truly had the worst Logan in her universe before she met the Logan from Deadpool and Wolverine. Every other Logan is stupidly in love with their Y/N, so the fact that that Logan could let her go so easily was truly an anomaly. So, each chapter will be a different variant, starting with Old Man Logan as a birthday gift to myself. 🎉🥳 If you want to be tagged in this series or in all of my Logan fics, just let me know!

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

[skibasyndrome]

Wilmon + "please I need you inside me"

cw: this is... definitely nsfw, a lil bit angsty... messy exes reunited at a party?

ALSO: the word count on this bad boy got... completely out of hand

"Please, I need you inside me." Simon's whispered confession hits Wille like a freight train. It's not what he expected him to say, not after everything, not after all this time, not after what he said last time. Not as his first full sentence towards Wille, after an awkward "hey" in front of Felice and Sara who are the only reason they even came to Maddie's party in the first place. Not after asking if Wille "has a minute" one and a half hours later.

It's all wrong and Wille is confused, so fucking confused and a little bit too tipsy to really connect the dots (have there been hints all evening? have there been signs he misread?). Instead of asking any of the millions of questions floating around his mind (Why do you want me now? Did you change your mind? What happened to the new guy? Why here?) he just stutters, unsure what to say, unsure what to do about the goosebumps mottling the skin of his neck, even moments after Simon has already pulled away again. "Simon, I don't..." (Why didn't you text? Why didn't you call?) Simon's expression twists painfully and Wille knows, oh god he knows what this sounds like and he needs to fix this. "I...," and the words still don't make their way out, so he reaches out, fingers grazing the inside of Simon's wrist, so soft and so smooth and so reminiscent of the times this was what they did. (Why did you push me away when this is what you want?) "We can't," Wille tries instead, desperate, breathless, feels his chest contract angrily, feels his resolve crumble with every passing second that he's skin to skin with Simon. Fingertips on the wrist are enough to set his skin on fire. Enough to bring him back to two years ago. (Why didn't you want me to fight harder?) "Is it because you don't want to?" Simon asks, voice gentle and careful and so painfully small - Wille hates when Simon feels like he needs to make his voice smaller - that the pang goes right to Wille's heart. (Why would you ever think I don't want you?) He shakes his head fervently, like he can shake off the hurt and the confusion and the incessantly rising heat of want that crawls up the inside of his throat. "No. God, no," he tries, feels and hears his voice break on the first no. (Did I not prove to you that you're all I ever want?) Simon's eyes meet his again, finally. Glistening even in the dim light of this hallway, and Wille wishes he could read him better, wishes there weren't two years of distance lodged in between them. Simon moves his arm and just as Wille is about to gasp at the prospect of losing him again he feels Simon's grip on his upper arm instead, firm and warm even through the thin fabric of his shirt. The breath gets stuck somewhere deep inside of Wille's rib cage. He doesn't dare make a single move while Simon tugs on his arm, places it around himself, takes another step towards Simon. (Why did I ever let you go?) The look in Simon's eyes is dangerous, is gnawing away at every bit of distance, at every wall that Wille has desperately tried to build up over these past years. Simon squeezes Wille's bicep, signaling him he can touch him back and- Fuck. And Wille does. Wille's hand still perfectly fits on top of Simon's hipbone. "If you still in any way want me..." (What the fuck did I do to make you think there'd ever be an 'if'?) "if this is still," and Simon is standing so close to him now that Wille thinks he must be feeling him. Must be feeling that Wille, despite himself and all that work he put into getting over Simon, very much fucking wants him. Now, always, probably for fucking ever. "If this is something you might want..." Simon presses against him now, hips against hips, and Wille wants to moan and cry and wrap him tightly in his arms because he can feel Simon again, too, here, close. Simon leans forward, lips moving towards Wille's ear. "Let me have this, Wille. If you still want this, let me have you."

Wille's moan is barely stifled when he feels the subtle movement of Simon against him, of Simon pressing into him, onto him, of Simon searching for contact and friction and more of Wille. "Not here," Wille tries, but he's already losing the battle and grinding his erection against Simon's, that quietly flickering flame he never quite managed to put out now stoked into a raging fire. "We don't have- and we're just-" And while he stammers away, while he digs his fingertips into Simon's side and relishes in the heady feeling of having him here again, he feels Simon slip something into his palm, a small bottle, familiar enough to make Wille's mind spin. (How did you-?) "I knew you'd be here," Simon confesses, unprompted. "I knew I'd see you." His lips leave burns in their wake as they brush down the side of Wille's jaw. Wille barely has control over his own hands, just barely registers that must be pulling Simon closer. And it seems like this breaks a dam inside of Simon. "Been thinking about you," he gasps out and Wille can feel his hands under his shirt now, digging nails into Wille's skin that remembers. "Been missing you," Simon admits, much more quietly, but before Wille has any chance - But why did you-? - Simon pushes on. "Missed feeling you... missed having you like this." And god, god, Wille is a broken man. He's never had a sense for when to stop, when to turn away from Simon before things become detrimental, and he's not about to now start acting like he has any control over his feelings towards this man. This man that ruined Wille for everyone forever. So of course Wille finds himself perched behind Simon in one of the seemingly countless storage rooms in Maddie's house, of course he's got Simon holding on to a shelf in front of him, with his pants bunched up around his knees, and of course he's back to opening Simon up for him, nice and slow and grabbing one of his ass cheeks, holding him open for a better view while he does it, because simply feeling him is not enough right now. Of course Simon is back to letting out those sounds that Wille has never stood a chance against, quiet hiccup-y moans that he draws out for a moment longer whenever Wille pulls out and gently eases his fingers back in, teasing. Simon feels just like Wille remembers, he moves just like Wille remembers, he lets out that same broken sound when Wille drops to his knees and asks if he can, please, if Simon is okay with it. He arches his back and pushes back against Wille's mouth, moans at every flick of his tongue, just like he's always done. The filthy string of profanities and desperate pleas falling from his mouth is just as enticing and encouraging as it's always been. The way Wille needs to hold Simon's hips in place, thumbs on his ass cheeks to help hold his open, the way Simon tastes, the way he grinds back and lets Wille fuck his tongue into him... It all hasn't changed one bit. Wille feels delirious, feels like he's stuck in one of those dreams that kept haunting him for weeks, months, after. He feels like he could risk waking up to his empty bed again if he pulls away to catch his breath. It still feels like a dream when he lines himself up with Simon's back, when he presses closer, not pushing in, just feeling the heat of Simon's body through his shirt, just relishing in the slick, hot tightness of being between Simon's thighs. It's so much, so fucking much that Wille needs a moment, that he needs to prepare for what he's sure will ruin him, that he needs to wait before entering him again.

"Are you okay?" Simon asks, breathing heavily and grinding back desperately, and it's almost like it used to be, almost as sweet and caring and devastatingly gentle as they used to be. Almost, because there's an edge of fear, of worry, of uncertainty. Wille nods, pressing his forehead against the soft wispy hairs at the back of Simon's neck. He's so okay. He's so much more than okay, feels so much better than he has months and that alone is absolutely fucking breaking him apart. "So okay," Wille gasps out, pulling back slightly to line himself up. He ignores the slight tremor in his hands, that anticipatory shiver of pleasure that courses through him. "So fucking okay," he moans when he slowly pushes in, sinks against Simon, slips back into that old, familiar, breathtaking sensation of connection and closeness, of soft, warm bliss. And Simon does it, too, moans, throws his head back, angles himself so that Wille can slide home, can claim this feeling for the two of them, finally again. Simon's affirmative hum travels through Wille's chest like the heavy bass on the dance floor did earlier, Simon's sweetly assertive command for "more, Wille" pierces him like a knife. But he can, he absolutely wants to give Simon more. He pulls back slightly, only to thrust into him again, giving more and deeper and harder, making Simon's breathing stutter, making the shelf that's bearing more of less all the force groan under the impact. Every bit of desperation, every yearning thought Wille has tried to neatly file away breaks lose in him, every single time he dreamt of this imagined just one more chance at this hits him at once. By the time he pulls back, words of warning on his lips, mumbled apologies for being so gone so quickly, for not making this last any longer falling into the sweat-heavy air around them, his eyes are burning, his throat closing up. It can't be over already, not again, not now, not ever. Simon's arm shoots behind him, grabbing onto Wille's ass, pulling him closer again, urging him back inside to the hilt. Wille's hips stutter and he gasps out another pleading warning, sure that he's going to fall any minute now, but Simon only digs his blunt fingernails into Wille's skin. "Stay," Simon presses out, so quietly that Wille barely hears it. But it's enough to make Wille press his eyes shut, go rigid against Simon's back. "Inside me, please," he adds, words so drawn out and voice so breathy that Wille can't help but moan in response. Simon needs him, is all Wille can think of when Simon grinds back against him, Simon needs to feel him again, he thinks, as he listens to Simon's staccato breaths and the sound of his slickened hand jerking himself off. It's all the way it used to be, it's like he was never gone, it's like they picked up where they left off, like it's them, together, against all odds again. It takes no more than a couple thrusts before Wille is coming, gasping into the sweaty hair in the back of Simon's neck, pressing closer, wrapping his arms tightly around Simon's chest and stomach, like that will keep him from ever leaving again. Wille is still panting, still shaking, when he feels Simon's come hit his arm, feels Simon go pliant in his arms. He doesn't ask why now, why after all this time, when Simon, hands still holding Wille against him, like he, too, is scared Wille will leave, pants out a quiet "thank you". Wille doesn't ask what this means, either. Doesn't ask what Simon now thinks of him, what Simon now wants to do. He doesn't, can't, get out a single question while he holds onto Simon and Simon holds onto him.

OOOF. I......... I guess that was the vibe when I sat down to write this today. Thank you so so much for sending in that prompt, dear anon! I hope you enjoyed it! 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I will write you 2k apparently another 5(+) sentences

[powderpinkandsweeet]

Trucker Ellie x Hitchhiker Reader

Sorta fluffy sort of nsfw and long. You shower together and you give Ellie head. TW S/A attempt

The open road was lonely. For days at a time Ellie would only interact with others through the windshield of her big rig. The CB radio was an option, but the truckers weren’t so kind to the only woman on the station. By no means was the job fun, but it paid well and kept her occupied. Three months in and Ellie had been able to send a good chunk of change back home, but she had a long road ahead before she would follow the money. At first, she had enjoyed the time and space to clear her mind, but after the first thousand or so miles it had gotten old.

Ellie was riding a country road past the exit to a dinky town when she laid eyes on your silhouette half a mile up at the onramp. You stood dangerously close to the road with your thumb raised in the air, the other shading your eyes to scope out oncoming cars. You piqued Ellie's interest for a multitude of reasons: you were probably overheating, and the closer she got the prettier you became, but most of all, you were hitchhiking so you must be either desperate or stupid.

Ellie down-shifted gears and pumped the brakes, managing to come to the safest stop she could without flying through the windshield or losing the trailer behind her. She could see the wide grin on your face as you jogged up to her passenger side. She rolled down the window as you hopped up the steps to lean against the door. Arms crossed beneath your breasts, you rested your forearms against the windowsill to make eye contact with her. She saw the blush of sunburn across your cheekbones and nose as you caught your breath and asked her in the sweetest voice "you got room for one more?"

Ellie sneered, "depends, you gonna tell me what the hell you think you're doing risking your ass flagging down truckers on the side of the road?"

You didn't let your smile falter, but this close Ellie could see the twinge of sadness in your eyes. You sighed, "I just wanna get outta here is all."

Ellie's composure wavered as she thought out what she was being confronted with. For months, Ellie hadn't spoken to women save for waitresses, gas station clerks, and the occasional hotel receptionist when her bed at the back of her truck cab felt too cramped or too cold. But these were brief, cold, transactional. She knew that if she didn't take advantage of you/of the situation, someone else would. Ellie's intentions were no better than any other touch-starved pervert sat at the wheel of a big rig, but she figured she was probably your best option. "Yeah, alright, get in. Where ya headed? I can take you close as I can get, but I won't go off my route. I ain't your taxi driver."

You brightened up and yanked open the passenger door, "fuck, anywhere but here, honestly. Thank you so much, you're saving my life here" you cheered as you swung your bag up into the cab and plopped down into the passenger seat.

Ellie smirked, thinking she might be able to keep you around for a while. She shifted gears and revved the engine, pulling back onto the road. "Anywhere but here it is, sweetheart," she affirmed.

Days in Ellie's truck were spent making awkward small talk and singing along to the radio. The open road wasn't so lonely anymore with you sitting next to her. Riding through a desolate plain, the sun was almost fully set when Ellie laid eyes on a rest stop sign. “I think it’s about time we turn in for the night.”

You hummed from where you were slumped in the passenger seat, eyelids heavy. Ellie held back a coo at how cute you looked all sleepy and comfortable next to her. She took the exit and parked the rig at the edge of the parking lot. One other semi was in the parking lot, but Ellie paid it no mind. She reached out to pat your shoulder, to which you awoke with a snort. "Come on, get up. You're gonna get a crick in your neck sleeping like that."

You rubbed your eyes sleepily and hummed in agreement. You accompanied Ellie to the restroom to sleepily brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. You finished before Ellie and made your way out of the putrid smelling restroom for some fresh air. You had nothing to do but wait since Ellie had the keys, so you wandered to the vending machines to pass time. 'Maybe I'll ask Ellie if we can get poptarts tomorrow morning...' you thought, before you heard footsteps approaching. You turned around ready to ask, "All done, Ell...ie?" but it wasn't Ellie. "Oh, sorry..."

He stood two steps from you, close enough that you were struck by the scent of menthol cigarettes and his stale, sour breath. "Ain't no thing, sweetheart," he cooed, "I dunno who this Ellie is, but I can surely keep you company til she gets back." He leaned in closer with a wide grin and you shrunk back against the vending machine, "I can show you a real good time, promise. Don't got much on me to pay ya for your services but I can show you a real good time."

You tried to look everywhere but in his eyes and crossed your arms over your breasts. "N-n-no thank you, sir" you managed to stutter, "I've really got to get going if you don't mind." You attempted to duck under his arm where you were caged, but you were only jostled as he firmly gripped your wrist. With a yank, you were pulled far too close for comfort.

His grin grew impossibly bigger as he huffed out a laugh, "So polite and so cute... but dumb as a rock if you think I was gonna letcha go that easy." You struggled to loosen his grip, pulling with all your might and leaning back with all your weight. Despite your best efforts, you were easily being towed toward a semi across the parking lot.

Still struggling, you cried out for Ellie, or anyone really, to help. Your cries were cut off as your head was whipped to the side by a slap. The man gripped your hair at the roots to force your eyes to meet his, "none of that, now. I coulda treated you real nice ya'know, but now ya did it. Any whore worth a dime woulda given in by now, but you like to play rough now, don't ya?" You sobbed as he leaned closer, the smell of cigarette ash and sour sweat nearly making you gag. From behind the foul-smelling man, you heard the woman you had been crying out for.

"I'm gonna ask you nice one time and one time only, let her go now." Ellie growled.

The man scoffed, "Oh yeah? I found her first, and I expect a whore wandering a truck stop parking lot to do her job."

"Or what, huh? You ain't gonna like what's coming to ya." Ellie adjusted her footing and held her fists up in a defensive pose.

He wheezed out a laugh and you flinched at the spray of spit over your shoulder, "oh I'm so scared of a scrawny little dyke, I oughta put you in your place the way you're talki-" but he was quickly cut off by a fist to the jaw. The man crumpled with a choking noise, and you nearly fell with him as he held his grip firm on your wrist. Tears in your eyes, you wrench at the man's forearm for him to release you. From Ellie's position above you, she reared her leg back and sent it flying in between the man's legs. He released your wrist to curl into a fetal position and cradle his injury, whimpering and choking all the way.

Finally freed, you scramble backward in fear to put some distance between you and the offender. You scratched furiously at your wrist where you could still feel the sweat from his palm and the bite of his fingernails.

With tears blurring your vision, you can see Ellie leering over the man. If it were directed your way, the look on her face would only make you cry harder. How she had reduced the man twice her size to a crying heap on the ground, you had no idea, but you were grateful nonetheless. Ellie sent one more kick into the man's gut before she bent down to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. She pulled out the cash in it and tossed it at the man where he lay whimpering on the ground. Ellie's gaze softened as it landed on you, and she sent one last look to the man on the ground before marching over and offering you her hand. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here before numb-nuts over here gets up." You gingerly accepted her hand and were surprised by the ease with which she pulled you to your feet.

You felt the burn of Ellie's pull in your shoulder as you stumbled behind her. She hastily unlocks the truck before boosting you into the cab with a grip on your hips. You sink into the passenger seat and she pulls herself up into the cab and pulls the door shut behind her. The second it closes, she clicks the lock. The truck revved to life and Ellie shifted it into gear. "We just gotta find some place else to turn in."

An almost inaudible "I'm sorry" was heard from the passenger side. Ellie sent you a confused glance before returning her focus to the road ahead.

"What have you got to be sorry about, honey?"

You looked down to your lap, "I couldn't protect myself so you had to save me, and you're exhausted but we have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight because I fucked up, Ellie. I just don't want to disappoint y-"

"You ain't disappointing me so don't be sorry. Isn't your fault that fucker couldn't keep it in his pants." Ellie interrupted.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, anxiously picking your nails. "Oh... well where are we gonna go now?"

"There's got to be a rest stop or motel in the next thirty or so miles. Just gotta find it."

And so the night went on, and you once again drifted to sleep in the passenger seat. Ellie occasionally glanced over to take in your peaceful expression. She recalled the tears in your eyes as you sat helpless in the dirt before her. When Ellie pulled up to a motel with a flickering neon "vacancy" sign. The brakes squeaked as she pulled to a stop, but you weren't stirred from your slumber. Whispering, Ellie promised you "no one else is gonna make you cry if I've got something to say about it."

She sat back in her seat to contemplate her next move. You wouldn't mind if she touched your face, would you? She wouldn't blame you for feeling averse to touch, but you looked so soft and you snored so cutely. 'Fuck it,' Ellie thought, before reaching out to cup your jaw and stroke her thumb along its length. The warmth of her palm pulled you from your slumber and you unconsciously snuggled into her touch. Your eyes blinked open and made contact with Ellie's intent stare.

You rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes and murmured "are we there yet?"

"Yep, wakey wakey, princess. I'm gonna get us some room and we can get some sleep. It'll be nice to have a proper bed and shower for once." You perked up at bed and struggled to stand from the passenger seat and climb down the steps of the too-high truck. 'How does Ellie get in and out of this thing, she's like 5'2'' you thought.

Ellie was kind enough to pay for a room with a queen bed and a pull out mattress. Ellie sighed and dropped her backpack onto the couch like a sack of bricks. "I'll take the couch."

Surprised, your wide eyes met hers, "you don't have to do that, Ellie. You paid for the room so you should take the bed."

Ellie ignored you, pulling out the sofa bed and plopping onto it with her arms crossed behind her head. "It's not up for discussion."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You were stubborn, but Ellie even more so. "Or we could share the bed?" Ellie suggested with wiggling eyebrows and a poor attempt at a wink.

You were not amused, "I'll take the bed, you take the couch." Ellie pulled out her phone to scroll online until she fell asleep.

It was approaching 11PM, and your skin was still crawling. You needed to scrub it away. "Ellie... I think I'm gonna take a shower. So I'll be right back, kay?" She nodded with eyes on her phone. You stripped from your clothes and turned the water as high as it could go. Turning to face the mirror, you assessed the damage. You had skinned knees from falling and bruises scattered across your arms and legs. In particular, your wrists had purple hand marks across them from where the man had tightly gripped your wrist. You continued to stare blankly until the mirror had fogged up from the steam and you were nothing but a blur in the mirror. You sighed and returned your attention to the shower running behind you. Stepping in, you hissed in pain at the heat but didn't turn it down. The burning pain was a distraction from the itching you felt where he touched you. You unwrapped a bar of hotel soap and scrubbed from head to toe, desperately trying to overcome the feeling.

As the hot water ran down your body, you thought of Ellie. For a moment, you hopes that she liked you, but how could she when all you did was get her into fights and eat away her earnings. Tears lined your eyelids and fell with the spray from the shower. You wallowed in sadness for a few more moments before you could hear a quiet knock at the door and a call of your name. You thought you could be quiet enough, but your crying was too loud and drew her in. You cleared your throat, "I'm alright, don't worry!"

"Well, I thought I heard crying so I wanted to check in on you."

"shit... it's okay, I just needed a second to let it out. I'll be out in just a few minutes."

"Nope, I'm coming in."

"No, wait!" but she had already pulled open that stupid barn door, it didn't hold in any noise.

"Ellie, I'm naked in here, what the fuck?!"

"I figured, usually that's how people shower."

"Ugh, you know that's not what I meant, now can you get out?"

"Not until you tell me why you were crying."

You peeked your head out of the shower curtain. She was serious, not just prying for the joke or the drama. Your eyebrows furrowed and mouth pinched in a frown, you hid back behind the shower curtain. "Thought it'd be obvious by now..."

"Was it the guy at the rest stop?"

You sighed, "yeah... no shit. You figured it out"

"He isn't gonna bother us anymore, you saw him eat shit when I hit him."

"I don't mean that he's going to chase us down, I mean that I can't stop thinking about it, the fucking smell and the way he grabbed me like I was just a piece of meat. I feel disgusting and I can't get the feeling to go away no matter how hard I scrub. We're miles away but I feel like I can't get away from him"

There was a pause for a moment and the ruffling of fabric, and you almost thought she had left the bathroom. What you didn't expect was for Ellie to step into the shower behind you. You squealed and attempted to pull the shower curtain to the side to cover yourself, but the cheap hotel fabric did little to cover your nakedness from her prying eyes.

"First of all," she starts, "you were taking way too long in the shower and I thought maybe you'd slipped and fell." She reached for the shampoo on the shelf behind you, your noses almost touching. "Second, you need to give yourself a little more credit." Ellie started to lather her hair, "you're so much sweeter than him, than me, and than this place. I'll betcha you've got better things at home waiting for you, but you stepped up into my cab instead."

You sighed as you attempted to shield your nakedness with your hands, "no one's waiting for me, Ellie.... and I think of all the creeps out there picking up hitchhikers you're the least creepy."

She snorted out a laugh, "creepy nonetheless, but you're not wrong. I've been creeping on you since I saw you stood on the side of the road."

Your face grew warmer. You couldn't help but like her attention and her closeness. Her eyes darted back and forth across your body as she spoke, but you had put all your effort into maintaining eye contact. "Matter of fact..." Ellie started as she stepped chest-to-chest with you, "don't think I haven't seen you staring at my fingers while I drive. I've seen you stiffen and press your legs together, and don't think I haven't seen the way you squirm in that seat when I'm real sweet on you."

Your cheeks were hot and your eyes were wide as you struggled to form words. Were you really that obvious?

"Don't get shy on me now," Ellie taunted.

Fed up with her teasing, you grabbed her face in your palms and smushed your lips into hers. Ellie stiffened with surprise, but let her lids fall shut and relaxed into the kiss. Your lips were so soft, but they moved against hers with fervor. Ellie surrendered her control, yearning for you to have your way with her.

You held her waist in your palms and stroked up her sides. Ellie shuddered; she hadn't felt the warmth and softness of a woman's touch in months. You cupped her breasts in your hands to give them a teasing squeeze that made Ellie gasp. "So sensitive..." you hum with a smile, circling her nipples with your thumbs. You leaned into her ear to huskily whisper "I wanna taste you, Ellie." You dotted soft kisses along the curve of her ear, "will you let me? Please? I want it so bad. I'm so hungry for your pussy, Ellie"

She nodded quickly and enthusiastically. Ellie could put up a tough facade, but to hell with it when she wants nothing more than to submit to you. You smiled warmly and knelt down onto the shower floor. Ellie backed up into the tiled wall and you situated yourself between her legs.

You took a moment just to admire her. Ellie shivered as you scratched your nails up her lean, prickly legs to grab her by the hips. You pulled them towards you to meet the patch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs. Your fingers slipped on the slick arousal trailing down her inner thighs as you spread her pussy lips. Her swollen clit peeked out from under its hood, and you leaned in to place a soft, sweet kiss to it that made Ellie flinch.

"Come on already, no teasing..." she grumbled.

You had to hold in a laugh at her whining, but you were just as eager as she was. You stuck out your tongue and licked a long, fat line up her pussy. You pulled back briefly to savor her taste with a gulp and a hum of satisfaction. "Tastes so good," you moaned out and licked your lips.

Ellie struggled to keep her eyes on you as you ate her out, rolling back in her head as you licked her sloppily. Her wetness smeared across your cheeks and ran down your chin. "So messy, baby, "you cooed to her as you pulled back for a breath. "Just for me, yeah?"

Ellie groaned and held her bottom lip between her teeth, gritting out a "yes, ffffuck, jus' for you."

"So cute..." you mumbled to yourself before rewarding Ellie with a harsh suck to her clit. Her back arched and a hand reached out to grab you by the hair. The tug at your scalp made you moan against Ellie's lips, only serving to heighten Ellie's pleasure with the vibration. She panted and held both sides of your head to rock her hips into your mouth. You moaned at her taking control, using you like a toy for her to fuck as she pleased. She pressed you closer and clenched her thighs around your head, squishing your cheeks together. You moaned at the pressure and being further engulfed in her smell.

Ellie groaned between heavy breaths, "so good, fuck... fuck me so good, honey." She was so sensitive, squirming despite your arms wrapped around her thighs. The heat between your thighs was becoming unbearably hot. You had somehow reduced this rough and tough truck driver to a whiny mess.

Ellie's thighs clenched tightly around your head, whimpering out a warning of "I'm, fuck I'm gonna-ah, I'm-"

"Gonna cum?" you taunted and gave her pussy a light slap.

"Yes, fuuuuck." A line of drool slipped from her mouth.

A grin stretched across your face, and you pulled one of her legs to sit atop one of your shoulders. You drew three fingers firmly up the length of Ellie's pussy. Rapidly, you stroked your fingers back and forth over Ellie's soaking pussy. Her head fell back with a near shout of "fuck!" Your arm strained where it was wrapped around Ellie's thigh on your shoulder as it tensed and squirmed with the bucking of her hips.

Expletives poured from Ellie's mouth as she endured the assault on her pussy, before words left her and she could only choke and squeal. Her wetness splashed against your hand and the inside of her thighs. Excitedly, you leaned in to taste her cum and feel her arousal splash across your face.

Ellie's hips and legs slowed their squirming, trembling instead. She let out a long breath and ran a hand through her hair. "Fuck."

You giggled as you clambered up onto your feet, "that's all you got to say?"

"Yeah, I guess so. Fucked the thoughts right out of my brain, sweet cheeks."

"Pfft! Sweet cheeks?"

Ellie gave you the biggest grin, "yes ma'am, I could see your ass wiggle and jiggle while you gave me head. A beautiful view."

You pushed her shoulder "oh fuck off, now let me finish my shower."

Reluctantly, Ellie pulled back the curtain and stepped out. "Yeah okay fine, but you got another thing comin when you get your sweet ass outta there."

[0omillo0]

Han x Reader … Hurt/Comfort

this is a vent post

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱

The argument had started over something trivial—maybe the dishes, or a canceled plan. You couldn’t even remember. But now it had escalated, words flying between you and Han like daggers, sharper than intended. The tension had been simmering for days, both of you stressed from work, from life, from everything that felt like it was pulling you in opposite directions.

Han stood a few feet away from you, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. You could see the frustration etched into his features, the way his brows furrowed in anger, and it made your chest tighten. The air felt heavy, oppressive, and the weight of it was pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe.

“I don’t get it, y/n. Why can’t you just—”

“Just what, Han?!” you cut him off, your voice rising in defense, tired of feeling like you were constantly falling short. “I’m trying! I’ve been trying, but nothing’s ever good enough, is it?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I’m saying! You’re twisting my words.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline mixing with anxiety as you felt yourself being cornered. You had been here before. This exact feeling. You’d grown up in this kind of chaos, in the shouting, the accusations. In a home where every argument turned into a battlefield, and you had always been the one caught in the crossfire.

“I’m not twisting anything,” you shot back, but your voice trembled, betraying the fear you were trying to bury.

Han’s face was strained, his eyes dark with emotion. And then it happened—the moment he raised his voice, the moment his tone shifted. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t even directed at you, but it was enough.

“Goddamn it, just listen to me for once!”

His words echoed in the room, louder than they needed to be, and in an instant, everything inside you collapsed. You froze. Your breath caught in your throat, and it was like you were transported back to a time when every raised voice had meant danger, meant pain.

Han saw it—saw the way your entire body went rigid, the way your eyes widened in fear. His face softened, his mouth opening as if to apologize, but it was too late. The damage was done.

You couldn’t be here. You needed to get out. Now.

“Y/n, wait—”

But you were already grabbing your jacket, your hands shaking as you fumbled with the zipper. Without another word, you turned on your heel and bolted for the door, your heart hammering in your chest. You barely heard Han calling after you, his voice muffled by the roaring in your ears as you sprinted down the street, the rain hitting your skin like icy needles.

---

You didn’t know how far you’d walked or how long it had been. The rain was relentless, coming down in heavy sheets that soaked through your clothes, plastering your hair to your face. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore; you were numb. Numb to everything except the pounding of your heart and the ringing of Han’s raised voice in your ears.

Eventually, you found yourself standing in front of a Seven-Eleven, the neon sign flickering like a dying heartbeat. It wasn’t much, but it was shelter. You pushed the door open, the warmth of the fluorescent lights washing over you as you stepped inside, dripping wet and shivering.

The clerk glanced at you with mild concern, but you ignored it, heading to the back of the store where the windows overlooked the storm outside. You sat down on a bench by the vending machines, curling into yourself, your arms wrapped tightly around your knees as you stared blankly at the rain pounding against the glass.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You felt stupid. Why had you run? Why had you let yourself fall apart over something so small? But it wasn’t small. It had never been small. The years of trauma, of living in a household that was a constant war zone—it had left you fragile in ways you hadn’t even realized until now.

Your phone buzzed again. And again. The screen lit up with Han’s name—ten missed calls, and the eleventh one ringing through.

On the twelfth, you finally answered, your voice barely a whisper. “What do you want, Han?”

His voice was breathless on the other end, tinged with desperation. “Y/n… thank God. I’ve been calling you. I was so worried. Please, just tell me where you are.”

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes though they were already wet from the rain. “I—I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. I know you’re not. Please, y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I swear. I—fuck, I didn’t realize… Please, let me come get you.”

Your throat tightened, the tears finally spilling over as you choked out a sob. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Tell me where you are. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“I’m at the Seven-Eleven on 4th Street.”

“I’m coming. Don’t move.”

---

He arrived quicker than you thought he would, his car screeching to a stop outside the store. You watched through the glass as he jumped out, his hair and clothes instantly drenched in the rain, but he didn’t seem to care. The moment he walked inside and saw you sitting there, his entire face crumbled with guilt.

He rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, his hands hovering near your arms but not touching you, as if he was afraid you’d pull away. “Y/n… I’m so, so sorry.”

You couldn’t even look at him, your gaze fixed on the wet floor beneath you. “Why did you yell at me, Han?”

His breath hitched, his voice low and raw with emotion. “I didn’t mean to. I swear, I wasn’t thinking. I—God, I’m such an idiot. I didn’t realize how much that would hurt you. I never wanted to scare you.”

The sincerity in his voice made you look up, and when you saw the anguish in his eyes, something in you softened, despite the pain still lingering in your chest.

“You don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I grew up with yelling. It wasn’t just yelling—it was—”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off gently, his hand finally reaching for yours. “I should’ve known. I should’ve been better for you, y/n. I never want to be like them. Please believe me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching with the weight of it all. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You didn’t want to run from him.

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to be, but I was.”

His face crumbled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes. Just… please don’t shut me out.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the rain still beating against the windows like the storm between you was fading. Slowly, tentatively, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, leaning into your touch, as if it was the only thing grounding him.

“I don’t want to run from you,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes, locking onto yours. “Then don’t. Let me be your safe place.”

Without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed, or desperate—it was an apology, a promise. When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered, his fingers entwined with yours.

For the first time that night, you nodded, knowing that home wasn’t a place—it was him.

[sigh-tofm]

currently watching a reality/docu show about game wardens and i despise putting these men in us based scenarios but imagine…

… working in a 24/7 diner and regularly getting all sorts of law enforcement throughout the night, looking for a pick-me-up before they head back out again. your favourite is the big captain with a silver star and everything, who doesn’t really go on a patrols or calls anymore but still stops by your diner as often as he can. he’s ridiculously handsome in the rugged, brutish way, with a smiling lines around his eyes and impressive facial hair. always gets coffee and a slice of pie, always asks for a refill so he can watch your broad ass as you walk away when you retrieve the coffee pot. you kinda know what he’s about when he does that, but you don’t mind in the least letting him have his fun and wiggle your hips a little extra - he’s otherwise polite and a good tipper too. you don’t know it yet, but one of these days he’ll be waiting by your car for you to finish your shift and convince you to take him home with you.

… spending a summer day out on the lake, tanning in the back of bowrider you borrowed from your friend when you hear another boat coming up, motor idly working as the driver lets the waves bring him closer to you. you prepare to be annoyed at yet another guy who finds it hilarious to make fun of a fat girl in a bikini, but when you sit up you see it’s a game warden boat and aboard is the single most handsome man you have ever seen in your life, even though his face is shaded by his cap. he asks you all the important questions about boating licenses and life jackets, and you answer them all with a wavering voice, made a little nervous by this god of a man. he mistakes (on purpose) your hesitation as being under the influence and makes you do a breathalyser test. looks you straight in the eyes while you lock your lips around the tube to blow and taps your nose with his finger when the machine beeps and proclaims your innocence.

… being out hunting on the first day of the season and being stopped for a control by a game warden. you’re a good girl, you have everything in order, you tell him as he checks your gun, sticking his finger into the tube magazine to make sure that you don’t carry too many shotgun shells. he gives you a wry smile and asks for your hunting license and you pull out your wallet, only to find that you forgot it at home. he returns to his truck to check with dispatch to see if your story is true, if you really do have a hunting license in your name. proceeds to tell you your license is from last year and that you’re breaking multiple laws here. no license (even though you know you have one), lying to an officer (even though you’re speaking the truth) and hunting on private property (even though you’ve sure you didn’t see any signs about that coming in here). but you can’t prove any of that of course, not out here. seems you’re got yourself in quite the pickle, little lady. luckily warden mactavish is willing to let you make it right without giving you any fines.

… calling in about an owl that has gotten inside your house in the middle of the night. waiting in trepidation at the door so as not to agitate the animal further, only wearing your short dressing gown when there’s suddenly knocking. you open to find the biggest man you’ve ever seen standing on the porch, and you’re about to slam the door on him when he puts his foot in the door and announces he’s here about a bird. you nervously open the door again and he steps inside, having to turn sideways to fit his massive shoulders through the entryway. you point him to the living room where the owl is perched on your curtain rod. in less than three minutes he’s located it, caught it with his skeleton-gloved hands (not minding the talons at all) and taken it outside to release it. you’re ready to thank him and bid him adieu, but he shoulders his way back inside to straighten up the curtains again and sweep up the feathers, a service you didn’t know they provided. at last he stands up to his full height and looks you up and down, from your messy hair to your thick thighs. ‘now, about that bird…’

[itsonlydana]

I saw you opened requests and thought if you were inspired could you do a little sequel to "I Didn't Know That I Was Starving Till I Tasted You". I absolutely adore that story it is SO good!

Midnight Meetings in our Kitchen | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader👑

The night before the reopening of his restaurant, Thranduil is feeling antsy - you try your best to coax him back into bed.

warnings/tags: none

word count: 2,7k

an: This has taken me months to write and I apologize for the delay! My mind was just as frazzled as Thranduil's.

requests: please check pinned post

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

You woke up alone and to the faint metallic sound of pots clanking in the kitchen. The hand you blindly reach over to the other side of the bed comes in contact with a cold mattress and rumbled sheets, no residue warmth of the person that held you until you fell asleep nor any sign that he actually slept and not gotten back up immediately as soon as you had closed your eyes to his even breathing.

This is not the first time Thranduil snuck out of bed – in the weeks you now shared one it has become all the clearer how often he actually strayed through the apartment while you were deep in a slumber – but it is the first time he did it after he promised to stay. 

It would be easy to let the anger and frustration fester, let it grow either in a thoughtless fight or in weeks of unspoken feelings, and if this was anyone else you would holster these moments like munition. Keeping them close to your heart like ivy holding on to cracked walls. 

Thranduil however, is not anyone else. 

The blanket is pushed aside, your feet step into the slippers by the bedside and in passing of the desk by the door, you grab a cardigan to throw over your shorts and the top you slept in. The moment you open the bedroom door, the sounds from the kitchen grow louder. You quietly creep around the corner, passing by the room where you hardly ever sleep, and find your boyfriend in a familiar stance – leaning over the stove, a spoon in his hand and one in the mess of long hair bundled up in the nape of his neck, barely holding it together; your boyfriend as well as the spoon.

He doesn’t seem to realize you are there, your shoes did a good job silencing the steps, so it is no wonder Thranduil flinches as you wrap your arms around his stomach from behind and press your face against his back. He catches on quickly, snaps out of the murmuring of ingredients and a “Oh,” escapes him in a sigh. “I’ve woken you up, haven’t I?”

“No,” you mumble into the loose shirt. Thranduil is comfortably warm, not by nature – his hands are a blessing in the summer and he made it a sport to tickle you awake with his icey tips as soon as you spent the nights under mountains of blankets – but by the heated kitchen and the many pots boiling in front of him. Lips against the soft fabric, you continue: “But you said you wouldn’t do this. Not tonight, Thran.”

You feel his spine curve as Thranduil sacks into himself slightly, as he stops holding himself up on the counter and instead hugs your arms closer to his chest. His whole body rumbles at another sigh. “I know,” he is tired, his voice drips sleep more than he realizes, “I know, Darling. I will come to bed soon, let me just finish this recipe.”

You lurk past his right side into what you think is a pot of soup? 

“Do you plan on serving it later?” you ask and let your fingers trail over the bunched-up shirt, over the soft hairs on his lean stomach. 

“I’m not sure. It lacks something and I can’t figure out what exactly. Spices I used plenty, the broth is perfection and the vegetables have been in harmony every other time I thought of them.” – Thranduil is the only person in the world who you know can taste a dish without even cooking it, all that happens in his brain is a mysterium – “I need to find.. whatever it is that’s missing before I could serve it.”

“So, you will cook dozens of portions with a tiny thing changed?”

It is meant to be a joke though Thranduil nods. 

He could be unreadable and stubborn, especially these last few weeks. His restaurant ‘The Green Leaf’, is known as the best spot for fine-dining vegan food, praised high and above by the critics for excellent taste, extravagant and beyond thinking of known dishes taken to another level in ways you couldn’t even begin to fathom. Thranduil is precise, cutting dishes that fail his standards and not adding new ones till he reaches perfection only known to him. 

The turn to autumn brought not only harsher winds but it took one of Thranduil’s suppliers to sell out to ‘Oakenshields’, another star restaurant across the street and a thorn in Thranduil’s eyes ever since the press fueled heavy competition between two restaurants that are no were near the same category. They have close to nothing in common, except for two petty as fuck owners with their heads stuck that far up their arses, that they couldn’t see further than their rage. 

Thranduil, mature as he is, reacted to the news of his supplier changing sides – literally and metaphorically – as any normal person would, and decided on a night similar to this one, that he would change every meal that he had previously cooked with the ingredients of ‘the traitor’. Out with entrés made with apples, gone are the burgers simply because the cucumbers are no longer accessible. You realized quickly that going with the flow meant outings to farmer's markets testing fruits and vegetables, negotiating deals with you hanging on his arm, and new recipes he cooks for you to try. The work and effort of many nights waking up to find him in the kitchen all lead to tomorrow, the first day after the restaurant’s summer-closing and the presentation of a completely new constructed menu. 

To say Thranduil is spun tight is an understatement.

“Thranduil –” you sigh, your hot breath slightly wetting his shirt and your lips move against his spine. “This is nonsense and I don’t say this to be mean. You’ve been up the whole day, going through recipes you’ve been sure about and that you know by heart. Trying this won’t do no good; it will only exhaust you.” The tips of your fingers trail through the hair, higher up to lay a flat palm against the firm skin, feeling his intake of breath. You let your touch be gentle if he misunderstands your words. 

Communication between you had never been the problem – well, except for the obvious misunderstanding of the feelings you both had harbored for each other in complete ignorance that the other packaged them up in love languages such as cooking a meal or throwing out flowers of your dates – and you two had gotten even better at speaking your mind to avoid confrontations that could have been cleared up by a simple discussion at dinner or before going to bed. You never went to bed mad at each other, that is the rule you agreed on. You would talk it out and then make up. You have learned that Thranduil’s cold demeanor came on the second he felt vulnerable and alone which is exactly why you lean into the subject with your hands holding on to him.

“I get that this is important for you,” you continue and your knees nudge the muscles of his calves, “but you need sleep. Your greatest weapon is your brain, so, let it rest. I’m sure this will work out without a new dish.”

For a while, there is the boiling of water, the steam of carrots and celeriac drifting through the air. Thranduil’s hands continue to hold onto you, drawing figures onto your wrists to signal you that he did hear you and is thinking of an answer, not ignoring you. Then, he lets go with one hand. The stove clicks off, and the gas flame disappears, dipping the kitchen into more darkness now that the blue flickering light is gone. 

Other than that movement, Thranduil stands still. 

You opt for another lighthearted joke to break the tension that is obvious in his shoulders, the wings of them have the shirt stretched tighter at his hunch. You take the spoon out of his hands and fish in the soup, yes definitely soup, carefully balancing it around his stiff body and closing your lips around it.

“Mhmm, what excellent boiled potatoes,” you hum.

Thranduil's expression shifts ever so slightly, as if your words have finally pierced through the mental blockade, where he’s no doubt been sifting through countless possible events. An amused snort escapes him, his spine curving closer against you as he chuckles softly. “Did you have another Pride and Prejudice marathon this week?”

“What?” Your voice jumps an octave, betraying you instantly. “No! Of course not! Me? Nev–er. I don't even know that movie.” The words tumble out in a frantic cascade, and in the middle of your denial, Thranduil abruptly turns to face you, his sudden movement drawing a helpless grin from your lips.

One eyebrow arches in quiet amusement as he begins to crowd you against the kitchen island and leaves you to stare up at him. “If you didn’t watch it – and I certainly didn’t – how do you explain the ‘continue watching’ notification I saw at the restaurant?”

“Wow, uhm,” you fumble for an excuse, fingers toying with the strings of his silken pajama pants. “Maybe your brother decided to give my recommendations a shot?”

Thranduil lets out a scoff, his disbelief evident. “Las? When has he ever taken our advice on anything?”

True, his brother is going down the full teenager-who-listens-to-no-one-route like he’s doing a marathon but you are just as determined. Coyly you flutter your lashes up at Thranduil, pulling at the strings and twirling them around a finger. “Maybe that’s a sign of the universe, then. That you should stop banging pots and start bang– showing attention to your girlfriend.” 

Thranduil laughs so low in his throat, that you feel it swooshing straight into your stomach, the vibrato of his voice and the rasp of the few hours of sleep undoing every thought of getting him back to bed because this, Thranduil in just a loose shirt standing in the silver light of the moon in the middle of the kitchen and staring down at you might be the most attractive thing you have ever witnessed. 

His hands wander from your waist up to your shoulders, sliding up further to cup your neck in his large palms and gently tilt your chin up further. Your breath comes to a full stop, instead, your heart takes on the job of pulsing twice as fast at the gentle touch of his thumb moving over the underline of your jaw. The day you realized he cradles you just as gently as his favorite knives was surely one to process but now you lean into the lingering taps of his fingertips, the pad of his thumb pressing slightly into the plushness of your lower lip. 

Thranduil slots one leg between yours, casually and with an ease that you wouldn’t believed him to be able to when you first met him. “Have I recently told you how thankful I am that you’re you?” he asks and you shake your head slightly. His lips curve downward, as do his eyebrows. “I may have gotten lost in my work again, haven’t I?” 

You nod, never one to pour a lie into this intimacy. “But that’s fine. I know this is important to you. The restaurant opening and all can’t be easy.”

“That’s no reason to push away the one person that makes this journey bearable. You shouldn’t have to put up with my nightly disappearance out of bed simply because the restaurant is a large focus on my mind right now.” 

“It has become quite the habit of yours,” you agree quietly and slip one hand under his shirt again. 

There’s nothing sexual about the way you hold onto his waist, tracing the bones and muscles, all breathing softly and singing under your touch. Being this close to him grounds you the same way he needs physical touch as a reminder that he is still important in arguments and fights. That no matter how far apart your opinions are at that moment, your bond is still there. 

“I am truly sorry for this habit. I will work on it and I think once we have gotten through the worst of the press and critics I can rest easier but it’s nothing I can one hundred percent promise. The last time we closed for a month I slept barely after reopening.”

You tilt your head. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“No, everything you do makes me a better person already,” Thranduil says and leans down to finally catch your lips in a soft kiss into which you melt like butter on a hot pan. Every nerve ending is sizzling and burning, sighing as he holds your face close and kisses the breath out of you. “Or would you do me the favor and never watch your movie again?”

You laugh and bite down on his lip, “Never. Try something more realistic.”

He agrees with a huff of laughter, “Of course not,”  and pulls you back into another kiss. 

“Can we go back to bed?” you mumble against his lips. As much as you enjoy the loving kisses, the slow and languid draw of his tongue, the playful nip of his teeth in the lull of the night, his full body cornering you against the counter – oh, there’s this low sound of his throat again – but unlike Thranduil, you had a few hours of sleep already and you can feel the urge to hop back under the covers in the cold around your bare ankles.  

Thranduil’s head swirls around, seemingly taking in the state of the kitchen without the haze of a restless man dreaming of the perfect dish clouding his judgment and he raises a hand to tap against his lips, loudly exhaling. “Shit. I can’t leave this lying around and while it’s no good for the restaurant, I can’t just throw it out.”

You shrug your shoulders, sneaking past him to open the drawer meticulously sorted with plastic boxes. There are certainly enough of them to store the soups and their different varieties. Once Thranduil starts working on a new recipe, his tendency to fill the kitchen and run tests leaves its traces in the way you now look out for good lunchbox offers and Tupperware parties, always being mindful of having enough of them to stack up the freezer. Thranduil may be opposed to frozen food – and not only storebought, he would not eat something he didn’t cook fresh even if the whole idea of freezing food he cooked meant that it was still good and full of vitamins – but you don’t mind popping them into the microwave on a long day at work and relishing the soul food of your boyfriend weeks after he abandoned the thought of that particular version.

“We could pack them up and bring them around to the shelter tomorrow. Ah, wait, no. You have to be at the restaurant early for the deliveries. I can drop them off then, get home to change and still be there on time for the opening, oh! Thran–,” you are interrupted by the warm weight of Thranduil hugging you close from behind, surprising you the same way you had earlier, only that the height difference allows him to mouth a kiss into your neck. 

“I love you,” Thranduil says, digging his fingers into the wool of your cardigan. “All I’m doing is keeping you up at night and you’re still here, thinking about bringing the food to the shelter and my schedule. You’re brilliant, my love.”

The compliment goes through your heart like molten honey, sticking in all the slowly healing cracks that Thranduil mends each day he is there for you. The change from being roommates to best friends brings the risk of disrupting the carefully built balance yet Thranduil and you made it work and in times like this, standing in the darkness of your shared kitchen in the night before the re-opening of what Thranduil loves third-most in the world, every effort is worth the risk.

You smile, resting your head against his chest and looking up at him. His grey eyes are already on you, framed by long lashes and the strands of hair shining silver. “Love you too, most ardently,” you stand up on your tiptoes for a quick kiss upside down. “Soups can wait, let’s go to bed.”

[throneofsapphics]

against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :) series masterlist

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city. 

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps. 

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top��of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground. 

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect. 

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view. 

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight. 

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold. 

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear. 

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed. 

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you. 

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths. 

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might. 

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.” 

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin. 

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born. 

-

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind. 

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you. 

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text. 

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier. 

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.” 

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice. 

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile. 

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.” 

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left. 

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them –  all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake. 

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself. 

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.” 

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors. 

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected. 

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one. 

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too. 

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper. 

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’ 

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it. 

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough. 

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page. 

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him. 

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you. 

-

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl. 

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @​​littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

acotar taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

[ofstardustanddreaming]

Toji, who doesn't understand your love for hanging halloween decorations so early.

"It's the middle of September, do we really need to start decorating now?" He mildly complains, with a half smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes at his not so subtle ways of getting under your skin.

"Middle of September is not that early, and I'd decorate it like this year round if you didn't hate it so much." You grumble back at him, tossing a pumpkin throw pillow his way, him catching it with ease and putting it under his head, getting comfortable on the couch.

"For an assassin, you think you'd enjoy halloween decorations, just a tiny bit. Don't like spooky things?" You ask him, as you start putting a variety of themed bottles on stands and shelves.

"Just don't really care to decorate I suppose." He considers, watching you carefully twist bottles around to your satisfaction. He may not say it often, but he does enjoy when you're able to fill in the cracks his wife had left behind when she died. It took a lot for him to trust you, but now he's glad to have let you in.

It wasn't that he wasn't a decorator, it was just a homey thing he didn't want to continue doing after his wife died. Now, he was glad for Megumi's sake to, to have someone in his life that could show up for these types of things. He loved seeing you ruffle his hair as he walked down the stairs, a small glimmer of excitement at decorations across the house.

"Wanna help after you grab some breakfast?" You ask him, and he nods. He bolts for the kitchen, the one time of the year he might be most happiest.

"See, wouldn't hurt you to get excited about halloween like the rest of us." You call out behind you, trying to goad Toji into a silly argument. You're about to turn around after not hearing a response, only to feel arms around your waist.

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbles into your shoulder, kissing you along that area.

"Maybe we should dress you up as Gomez this year, considering how much you love kissing me there." You laugh, glad he might be getting into the spirit. A step off the couch means the next steps could be helping you to decorate.

"And see you in Morticia's dress? Where do I sign up?" He grins, and you shove him lightly in the chest.

"Yeah okay, whatever." You roll your eyes and laugh again, running towards the kitchen to start decorating with Megumi there.

As Toji follows you into the kitchen, he thinks he'd really follow you anywhere.