#every time I think about rewriting I want to cry

[parkcivconfess]

not freaky (for once…) but i think red evbo has serious self hating problems. i bet he fucking despises parkciv evbo for being the creators favourite, for being the most popular because thats all HE ever wanted to be. i bet he despises pvpciv evbo for being the “chosen one” even if he knows its only in his simulation, thats what red evbo wanted to be his whole life. he just wants to be chosen by the creator.

do you think he made himself unable to have negative emotions, unable to cry or really ever be vulnerable with someone just to make himself more “perfect”. but he still feels everything. he’s not even human, he knows he’s not. he messes around in his own coding, trying to rewrite it and make it more like parkciv evbo’s but he just can’t. it never works, he still feels and acts the same like nothing ever happened.

what if he finally has a breakdown. he’s ruined his code so much he can’t even cry yet he still feels like he is. he feels every emotion ten times more even though he isn’t supposed to feel them at all. what if someone finds him like this, what if one of his EMPLOYEES finds him like this?? they’re going to think so lowly of him. all he wants is to be perfect but he can’t even be okay.

(((((what if seawatt finds him. the person he’s worked with the most, the person he’s known the longest. his favourite actor. evbo is terrified when he sees him walk through the door, even with that mask and uniform he recognizes seawatt instantly. he tries to seem fine, he tries to wipe away the glitched tears from his face but he fails at that too. like he does at everything. seawatt takes his mask off and evbo prepares to be degraded but all he can see on the other’s expression is worry. like seawatt actually cares about him. but surely it’s just pity. he really is pathetic, what is there not to pity? he lets seawatt try to comfort him only for a moment before coming to his senses. he kicks him out of his office before he could see new tears forming in his eyes.)))))

seawatt totally picked the lock and they had yaoi after...

OUHHHHH i love this. so much . it's beautiful

[bradshawsbitch]

yo listen I am glad I chose social work as my field but hot damn it does not give room for much whimsy

[ournextdoorneighbor]

#

[skyeateyourdonuts]

hu

[wongyuseokie]

Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming.�� Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then. 

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe.  Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.

High school sucked. It was a universal truth. 

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party. 

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you. 

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school. 

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies. 

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features. 

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty. 

Feel a little worthy. 

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind. 

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over. 

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you. 

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower. 

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him. 

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology. 

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it. 

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked. 

“Y/N,” you replied. 

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression. 

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile. 

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality? 

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you. 

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you. 

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets. 

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket. 

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new. 

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty. 

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door. 

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt. 

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck. 

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away. 

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school. 

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it. 

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party. 

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night. 

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you. 

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle. 

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you. 

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously. 

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses. 

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua. 

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket. 

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two. 

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing. 

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed. 

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction. 

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction. 

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears. 

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink. 

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock. 

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare. 

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths. 

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed. 

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence. 

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run. 

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation. 

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him. 

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you. 

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours. 

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture. 

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away. 

“Wow,” you whispered. 

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated. 

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered. 

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room. 

You smiled in his wake. 

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh. 

~~

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted. 

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day. 

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down. 

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him. 

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen. 

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor. 

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you. 

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile. 

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you. 

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you. 

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him. 

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work. 

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested. 

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed. 

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything. 

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen. 

Was that it? Did you love him? 

Were you falling for your best friend? 

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything. 

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

~~

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast. 

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her. 

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia. 

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second. 

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice. 

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed. 

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms. 

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you. 

“Yo, what’s up?” 

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room. 

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked. 

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk. 

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face. 

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown. 

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked. 

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments. 

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry. 

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised. 

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock. 

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you. 

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small. 

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more. 

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him. 

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan. 

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded. 

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone. 

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem. 

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded? 

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him. 

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in. 

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused. 

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket. 

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked. 

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point. 

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them. 

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled. 

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked. 

You sighed. 

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you. 

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled. 

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged. 

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob. 

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged. 

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath. 

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you. 

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted. 

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded. 

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly. 

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile. 

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward. 

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you. 

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.” 

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding. 

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms. 

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do. 

~~

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan. 

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties. 

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused. 

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed. 

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it. 

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace. 

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life. 

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock. 

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night…  felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face. 

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua. 

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice. 

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive. 

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said. 

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp. 

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment. 

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie. 

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it. 

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead. 

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?” 

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”  

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts. 

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet. 

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion. 

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that. 

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him. 

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave. 

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left. 

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes. 

~~

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her. 

“Hey,” you mumbled. 

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped. 

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen. 

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened. 

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies. 

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded. 

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app. 

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it. 

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad. 

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest. 

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question. 

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly. 

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink. 

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper. 

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting. 

You needed to leave. 

You couldn’t hear this. 

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile. 

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit. 

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers. 

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago. 

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it. 

You felt so stupid. 

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend. 

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly. 

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback. 

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him. 

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings. 

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him. 

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff. 

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?” 

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset. 

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused. 

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you. 

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back. 

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room. 

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

~~

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks. 

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you. 

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else. 

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture. 

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding. 

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door. 

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him. 

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet. 

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him. 

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded. 

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him. 

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you. 

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him. 

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace. 

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered. 

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you. 

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him. 

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged. 

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him. 

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer. 

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you. 

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him. 

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you. 

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe. 

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top. 

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty. 

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed. 

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him. 

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh. 

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled. 

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh. 

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded. 

���Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded. 

~~

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror. 

Almost. 

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror. 

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him. 

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him. 

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance. 

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him. 

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile. 

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. 

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation. 

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,” Joshua added, and you smirked at him. 

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said. 

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly. 

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B. 

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night. 

~~

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you. 

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you. 

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him. 

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead. 

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions. 

“I…” you mumbled, lost. 

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes. 

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly. 

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you. 

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you. 

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered. 

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he? 

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her. 

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares. 

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince. 

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest. 

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion. 

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes. 

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed. 

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t. 

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this. 

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you. 

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom. 

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual. 

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged. 

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself. 

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave. 

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat. 

~~

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower. 

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body. 

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two. 

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks. 

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you. 

Nia was right; you didn’t look good. 

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra. 

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection. 

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you. 

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed. 

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground. 

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua. 

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him. 

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head. 

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him. 

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly. 

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon. 

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you. 

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed. 

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation. 

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed. 

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded. 

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened. 

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you. 

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen. 

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle. 

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them. 

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out. 

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened. 

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away. 

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips. 

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did. 

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care. 

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute. 

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him. 

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you. 

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded. 

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss. 

Casual it is.

~~

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him. 

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers. 

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain. 

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones. 

You wanted him. 

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room. 

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk. 

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed. 

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed. 

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment. 

“You didn’t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently. 

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle. 

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?” 

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile. 

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room. 

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed. 

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you. 

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered. 

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder. 

“Show me then,” you mumbled. 

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged. 

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss. 

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded. 

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time. 

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked. 

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly. 

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.” 

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples. 

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.” 

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt. 

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs. 

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you. 

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair. 

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.” 

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting. 

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?” 

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you. 

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.” 

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them. 

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?” 

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip. 

“Fucking hell.” 

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you. 

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!” 

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick. 

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss. 

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?” 

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently. 

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up. 

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace. 

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded. 

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss. 

~~

 The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you. 

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second. 

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up. 

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him. 

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly. 

How do you get more handsome every day? 

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart. 

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him. 

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded. 

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him. 

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned. 

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time. 

“Baby, I missed you!” 

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool. 

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged. 

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded. 

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears. 

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away. 

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you. 

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him. 

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling. 

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head. 

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer. 

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head. 

“I got to go. Another time.” 

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours. 

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without. 

~~

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night. 

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you. 

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed. 

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him. 

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff. 

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears. 

“That’s so mean,” you choked out. 

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said. 

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes. 

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours. 

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone. 

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore. 

~~~

Three Months Later 

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some. 

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you. 

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink. 

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua. 

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking. 

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you. 

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal. 

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement. 

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend. 

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off. 

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that. 

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it. 

~~

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day. 

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head. 

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed. 

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained. 

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you. 

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile. 

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh. 

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache. 

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again. 

So, you did. 

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain. 

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting. 

~~

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him. 

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out. 

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him. 

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff. 

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed. 

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again. 

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed. 

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe. 

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes. 

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded. 

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back. 

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him. 

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground. 

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed. 

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him. 

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

~~

“Y/N!” 

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan. 

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed. 

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems? 

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying. 

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response. 

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man. 

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank. 

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment. 

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head. 

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you. 

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him. 

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes. 

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile. 

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed. 

~~

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine. 

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown. 

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance. 

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell. 

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked. 

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded. 

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom. 

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him. 

~~

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night. 

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted. 

~~

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him. 

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him. 

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale. 

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him. 

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh. 

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew. 

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble. 

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you. 

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him. 

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you. 

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe. 

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled. 

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him. 

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you. 

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him. 

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak. 

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small. 

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground. 

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh. 

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you. 

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath. 

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing. 

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him. 

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him. 

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice, 

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest. 

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him. 

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her. 

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him. 

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face. 

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him. 

You weren’t her.

~~

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight, 

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours. 

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal. 

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion. 

~~

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room. 

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed. 

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. 

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him. 

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval. 

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.” 

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you. 

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval. 

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples. 

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response. 

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt. 

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless. 

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.” 

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there. 

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue. 

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face. 

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more. 

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper. 

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock. 

Oh, he was pissed. 

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you. 

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed. 

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session. 

~~

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry. 

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone. 

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside. 

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him. 

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled. 

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again. 

~~

But that night was long gone, and so was he. 

~~

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding. 

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart. 

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go. 

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception. 

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded. 

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded. 

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now. 

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time? 

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too? 

But it was too late for all of that. 

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special. 

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free. 

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening. 

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him. 

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden. 

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him. 

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you. 

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you. 

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression. 

“What was that?” Joshua asked. 

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted. 

It was true. 

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go. 

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight. 

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes. 

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you. 

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion. 

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua. 

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh. 

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing. 

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug. 

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed. 

You just needed to heal. 

~~

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life. 

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there. 

You smiled at his photo. 

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone. 

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried. 

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.  

[randomshyperson]

I'll Crawl Home To Her - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A rewrite of the fight scene in WandaVision, with a less aggressive but equally painful discussion. 

Warnings: canon-typical Westview angst, talking about magical submission and free will, established relationship, some grief mentions, rough kissing just because I can, love confessions/reaffirmations | Words: 1.644k

A/N-> I'm just rewriting loose scenes from WandaVison, none of which are really going to end up in anything bigger. But I hope it's a decent read. 

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“It’s not often that you get a dog and bury them the same day.”

To your line, Wanda could have chosen to mumble in agreement. She could have said she was sorry, or she could have chosen to remain silent.

Instead, she chooses sarcasm, as if she had a good idea of how ridiculous everything was starting to get around that town.

“Well, life moves pretty fast out in the suburbs.”

You end up sighing, able to feel the anger slowly building up in you. Wanda continues to put toys away, and you decide to wipe your hands on the nearest dishcloth before turning to your wife.

"I spoke to Norm this morning." You start with a serious look on your face, and Wanda, oh your beautiful, stubborn wife, makes a mocking expression. You don't understand why she's acting this way. "He told me things that really frightened me, Wanda."

It was her turn to take a deep breath, the confidence in her expression wavering for a second. There was only one balcony between the two of you, but somehow the emotional distance was immeasurably greater.

Wanda looks you in the eye. "What's that supposed to mean, darling?"

“You tell me.”  You hit back without hesitation. But what you get from Wanda is a tired sigh, falsely innocent.

"I didn't know it was charades night again." She continues to mock. 

You can't remember if Wanda was ever cruel, but it's a fact that you can't remember anything that happened before Westview.

"I got scared because he was scared, Wanda!" You insist, approaching the counter to lean on one hand, while the other gestures your despair. "It was like a different person, a real, suppressed personality crying out to be released. It was accidental, of course, to discover this. But I'm not an idiot, Wanda. I can see what you're doing. The things that are changing around us every time something gets out of your control. And I don't understand why, and you won't talk to me, and I'm so scared!"

The tears in your eyes match hers. "Stop." She pleads earnestly, but you shake your head.

"You don't want this." You say.

Despite the emotion in her eyes, and the thick tears, Wanda gives a short, ironic laugh, her head tilting slightly. "Don't I?"

"If you did, I wouldn't know. I wouldn't be able to see, to question.” You sigh.”You’ve always been so... extraordinary." Her expression suddenly flinches at the compliment. "Your abilities, your power, I can't tell what happened before this place, but I know about now. There's not a trace of doubt in my mind about you, about how magnificently powerful I've always perceived you to be. Not even about how much I love and trust you." Wanda swallows dryly at your words, but you give a sad sigh. "Then I don't understand why you keep letting me see the flaws. If you're going to lie to me, leave me in the dark. Because I think I'm losing my mind little by little. I can't ignore the suffering of those people, and I can't ignore the uncertainty that grows in my chest every second. I can't remember anything, Wanda. I see those pictures on our walls, those fabricated memories, and nothing reaches me. I can't even recall if I had any kind of family before this place."

Wanda comes around the counter with a certain desperation, her hands reaching for your face. "You have a family. Me and the boys, why can't that be enough?"

Your hands reach for hers. "It's not that, sweetheart. Our family is perfect. This life is the closest to heaven I could get. But I can't be at peace with it at the cost of other people's suffering. I can't ignore their pain."

"I'll help you think of something else." She responds with a nod, pulling your face in to kiss you firmly.

Kissing Wanda has always been intoxicating, a sensation that's easy to get lost in. But fresh in your mind is your coworker, terrified and begging you to get away from this place. Get away from your wife.

You pull away, breaking the kiss and ignoring the way your whole body protests. Wanda is equally out of breath, but the gleam in her eyes hides a deep irritation.

"Wanda, I-

"Save it." She interrupts, turning her back on you. You catch a glimpse of a new form of anger and hurt in her eyes at being rejected. You sigh impatiently, following her instantly. 

"You're not going to run away from this conversation, Wanda, I need to know what's going on in this place!" You practically beg, yelling at her back because Wanda just keeps walking towards the stairs. You huff angrily and teleport immediately into her path. She jumps slightly in fright, grimacing with impatience and taking two steps backward, away from the steps as you insist; "Please. Talk to me."

"There's nothing to say if you don't believe me when I tell you there's nothing wrong." But you shake your head at the words, one hand pulling your hair back. Wanda chuckles humorlessly.  "See, you already have an opinion on the subject. On me. I'm already the villain in your story, darling, so why don't you keep digging behind my back and end this whole thing?"

She mentions going upstairs again, but you stand in her way, one hand pulling her face towards yours. The kiss is more intense than the one in the kitchen, heated enough for Wanda to gasp into your mouth.

She's ready to reciprocate with the same eagerness when you break it, the hand on her cheek caressing her skin.

"Because I love you, Wanda Maximoff." You whisper against her lips, and it's not just the words, but the devotion in your gaze that makes Wanda's legs wobble. You offer her a small smile, an air of lost battle in your expression. "There is no part of me that would plan and act against you. Even here, with the truth scratching at the walls, where I could if I wanted to access the suffering of these people, I wouldn't turn against you. I can only beg for a little mercy, my love. Take the pain away from me, the doubt. I will be loyal and complicit in any of your desires and decisions."

Wanda sobs, hugging you before you can say anything. You can't remember anything that came before, but she can, as clearly as if she were there. And Wanda loved every trace of your old self as much as she loves this Westview version, willing to do anything she asks. It's not so different from the person she lost, with the most striking exception that makes it clear in that moment, that nothing could ever replace the real you. 

You would have taken Wanda out of that fantasy. For better or worse, even if she hated you afterward, even if she never forgave you, you wouldn't let her cross lines through grief, you wouldn't let her lose herself again. After all, that's what you swore to do after witnessing first-hand all the guilt she carried for Ultron's madness and the accident in Lagos. Your true version would never let her drown in sorrow and hurt people again.

But the Westview version, so sweet and devoted, would stroke her back and say the same thing you always used to say, even if now you can't remember it.

"I'm sorry if I made you cry, princess, I never meant to. Look at me so I can bring your smile back."

Wanda holds on a little tighter, tears staining your blouse. The vast majority of the times she had heard this phrase, it had been at much less dramatic moments. While she had a passion for sitcoms and things that made her laugh, you liked more emotional movies that could make you cry. And every time you had a movie session, you would tell her that, easily achieving your goal of putting a smile on your girlfriend's face. But there were also times when the situations were dramatic - a poorly planned workout where Wanda ended up hurting you and tears of guilt escaped her and you tried to make her feel better by saying that same phrase. Or when you had a fight and it got a bit out of hand, and you started your apologies that way.

Or when Thanos took you from her, and Wanda had to hear it twice because of a time stone.

She doesn't want to hear it for a third occasion. 

You're ready to say something, maybe apologize, when Wanda breaks the hug. But she holds your cheeks and presses her mouth to yours. Slowly, allowing you to taste even the saltiness of her tears. There's a shaky sigh escaping from between your lips as she breaks away again, but your affected gaze changes to a curious one as red irises stare back at you.

"I'll make it better." She whispers, nodding slightly. You swallow dry, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against hers.

The only thing you whisper is exactly what makes her hesitate. "I trust you, Wanda."

She ignores the internal conflict and lifts one of her hands to stroke the back of your neck. It must be easy, especially within Hex, to change your mind. To make you no longer question.

You repeat that you love her, and Wanda brings trembling fingers to your forehead. 

She suddenly becomes very aware that consciously, she could never do that to you. She would rather you found out everything and hated her than take away your free will. To turn you into another puppet.

She sighs shakily, ready to say she'll put an end to this whole place when the doorbell rings.

Nothing could prepare her for seeing her twin brother again, but that's another story. Besides, not that Wanda has any idea, far away from there, a fallen Avenger is being stitched back together while calling her name in their sleep.

[planetallure]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ fic recs

CW: these works contain explicit content intended for those 18+. make sure to read the rules of the writers before interacting.

@peterthepark : coming back to this blog made me realize when exactly i started back reading fanfic fr. the moment that was eddie mf munson, touched something in me. reign was one of my first intros that really stuck with me. it kinda blew my mind and scared me at the same time because i was like…how do i move on…what’s better than this??? brilliance. creative genius. like what more do you want from me? reign, i miss you. <3

i rec literally anything she’s written about eddie or tasm!peter parker.

@ohcaptains : i really don’t know what to tell you man. leah. is. HER. she simply does not miss. funny story: when i first started my old blog, it was ageless so i ended up getting blocked. so i pm’d her basically begging to come back home because i knew what i had lost. i’m not ashamed.

"dealers choice" - if you happened to miss the moment that was eddie munson or you miss his character or you were never really into him, this lil universe is for you. <3

"learning in public" - carmy x fem!reader. he needs it. he wants it. he has to have it. a man on his knees. enjoy.

"don't you dare fall in love" - heads up this one was discontinued and will not be continued (so don’t go harassing her about it) but the last part has an open ending so don’t let that stop you. college student/dealer!ellie x fem!reader. it’s beautiful and perfect. enjoy.

also ALL of her frank castle, abby anderson, tasm!peter parker fics. thank youuu

@inknopewetrust : this woman is a W R I T E R. the beautiful angsty things that come from her brain need to be cherished. thank you for your service.

“hoping i’ll find [a glimpse of us]” - when i tell you this shit was so fricking good!!!!!?! another piece of LITERATURE that i couldn’t believe i got to read for free on tumblr. i am such a sucker for a angsty slow burn and this still lives in me head rent free to this day. the tension had me giggling and laughing and biting my nail and crying. i need to spin back. i need to feel something!!

“secret” : now this one was a sexy forbidden romance. eddie’s our man who isn’t our man but is and oh m gee the angst in this one got me too, though it wasn’t as much. preppy!reader x eddie munson iykyk.

@etherealising : the absolute sweetest person i’ve met on here. every interaction i have with her just makes me smile. on TOP of that she’s a beautiful writer and storyteller. vee you have my heart.

“all i ever knew only you” - the best carmy x oc fic i’ve ever had the pleasure of reading on here. i’m so emotionally attached to this series, its characters and i think it has such re-readablity . the characterization is also so well done carmy x baby 4life. it’s currently discontinued but she is currently doing a rewrite and it’s going really well! in the meantime, please don’t let that stop you from reading the original while it’s still up. you won’t regret it.

“a buried and a burning flame” - vee single-handedly has me looking a richie different now. like…wait a minute :)) the bickering and banter is so fun. tension? check. spice?? check.

“flew like a moth to you” - a continuation of the one above. babyyyy!!! yes, yes, uh huh 🙂‍↕️ these two? LOVE EM. he’s officially in my heart.

@totheblood : star is so kind and super creative. she has created some of my favorite ellie williams smau’s on here.

"the hard way" - rockstar!ellie williams x ex-gf!reader smau. you guys are brought together again to solve the mystery that is the anonymous account blackmailing the two of you. mmm, nothing like the takedown of a shady mf to bring the girls together again :)

@cherriesxinthespring : another sweetheart with a beautiful mind. ik people get the characterization/true nature of ellie so wrong, but not rosie. she gets it.

“wasteland, baby!” - the wlw true enemies to lovers slow burn i’ve been dreaming of. tap in. right now.

@elliesbelle

“nobody compares to you” : a deliciously angsty slow burn second chance romance (ex!ellie x f!reader)

all the text convos for abby and ellie.

@newasskid : this blog makes me so nostalgic. THE first fic series that i read and rebloged when i started my first ff blog, came from this writer. i honestly feel it was my first time reading fanfic that wasn’t a silly little wattpad story or imagine and i was honestly gagged. i was like, “this…this is literature.” what can i say? i love good ass characterization! and this one was no exception.

“hard knock life” - like i said i was gagged with how good it was. i read the first two chapters back in 2022 and i still remember the feeling i felt reading them. this new blog i’m making is a fresh start for me and a chance for me to get back into old fandoms. will be revisiting this one soon.

@lovelettersfromluna

"one of your girls" - biker!ellie/roommate!ellie/camgirl!ellie x f!reader ALL rolled into to this ridiculously sexy little universe!! i love these two so much :’(

"compass" - vampire!ellie !!!! my new favorite thing. the way luna writes her feeding on reader ALONE is the most erotic and intimate thing. my god this was hot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

sending all of this beautiful writers my love and respect y’all are amazing and so important. <3

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Sin City | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: arguing! angst! recovering from a sexual assault (please heed this warning), light smut (MDNI!!! 18+ only), mentions of suicide, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 7341

A/N: His beautiful face I will scream and cry

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

You and the brothers decided to bunk somewhere between Black Rock, New York, and Bobby’s house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Although Sam knew about your relationship with Dean, Dean still got two separate rooms for you and the brothers. For a reason you couldn’t quite place, that bothered you.

He eventually did come to your separate room, and you immediately grilled him. “Why do you keep getting us two separate motel rooms?” Dean seemed stunned. 

“I mean, it’s not a big deal, but I don’t know… are you ashamed to be with me? Like, do you not want Sam to see us sleeping together? If you are, I’d rather you just tell me—”

Dean shook his head. “No, (Y/N), why would you think that?” he said. “I just wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable staying with Sam. And… I don’t necessarily wanna have sex in the bed next to my brother,” he finished. 

“Oh, so you thought we were gonna have sex tonight?” you questioned angrily. 

“What? No! I wasn’t—”

“Because sometimes I feel like that’s all I am to you, Dean! Like I’m just one of your fucking hookups!” you shouted. 

“Why the fuck would you think that?!” he argued. “When have I ever given you that impression?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because whenever we get in the doorway of emotional vulnerability, your solution is to have sex,” you chided. “Maybe because you can’t even tell me how you feel about me. I mean, I’ve poured my heart out to you, and I feel like you’re not even letting me in a little bit!” 

“Why is now the first time you’re bringin’ any of this up?” Dean responded. “Maybe if you would’ve talked to me about this, I could’ve fixed it before you freaked the fuck out on me.”

“Because I feel like if you really cared about me, I wouldn’t have to ask you to prove it to me!” 

“I thought that’s what I was doing!” Dean argued. “I mean, (Y/N), when was the last time you saw me even look at another girl?!”

“You looked at Bela!”

“You did, too!”

You considered for a moment, and unfortunately, he was right. 

“I mean, seriously. When’s the last time I’ve stayed more than a few nights with a girl? If I didn’t give a shit, I wouldn’t be here having this conversation right now. And I told you—!” he cut himself off, seeming to feel awkward. “I told you how I felt. Not in the most direct way, but still!”

“Dean, don’t you think I might wanna actually hear you say it before you go and die on me?!”

“So that’s what this is about. About my deal?” he scoffed. 

“It’s not just about your deal, Dean,” you huffed, “it’s about the fact that I wanna know you love me before you’re gone. I wanna… I wanna be yours, Dean. And I wanna know what’s going on in your head. God, I mean, is that so much to ask for?!” Your voice became louder again. “I mean, you’re gonna die in a year, and you’re acting like you’re goin’ to fuckin’ Vegas. I know you’re fucking terrified, and you won’t talk to me about it!”

“What do you want me to say, (Y/N)?! That I regret making that fucking deal? ‘Cause I don’t,” Dean shot back, and that stung you even more. “I am scared, okay? But I’m not gonna live every day whinin’ about it, either. And I figure, you got so much goin’ on in your head, I might as well not screw you up even more with my problems.”

“You’re right, I do have a lot going on. But you’re not gonna burden me with your problems, Dean,” you responded, voice still angry, but considerably quieter. “I want all of you—” you stepped forward and cupped his face in your hands— “the good, the bad, the ugly; all of it.” Tears welled in your eyes. “I love you. I do. And… I understand if you can’t say it back. I’m not gonna lie to you, it hurts, but I can also… try to understand if you don’t wanna say it.”

Dean grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from his face. He kissed the inside of your right wrist, brought both your hands down between the two of you holding them there, and stared down at you intensely. “I do, I just—” he grimaced in frustration, “I’ve never told anybody. Ever. Not even Sam.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Ever? Not even Cassie?”

He shook his head. 

“Damn.” 

“Do you get why it’s hard now?” he asked. 

You nodded. 

“And I— I do wanna show you. I’m trying, (Y/N),” he whispered, and your heart suddenly clenched with guilt, “it’s just…” Dean trailed off, unable to find the words. “I don’t wanna hurt you after what you went through.”

“I won’t break, Dean,” you replied, voice soft. “I’m a tough cookie.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, becoming serious once more. 

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Yeah, I do,” you insisted. “I’m… on edge. I should’ve brought this up differently.”

“Can’t disagree with you there,” he commented, “but I’m sorry, too. And if it really bothers you that much, we’ll have a sleepover with Sam next time.”

You giggled, remembering the stupidity of the origin of your fight. Slightly embarrassed, you covered your eyes with your hand. 

Dean took your hand away from your eyes and wound it around his neck, leaning down to kiss you. His kisses were always incredibly passionate and often quite fierce, but this one was different. It was tender and seemed to convey everything he couldn’t say aloud. 

You were surprised when he pulled away. “Where you goin’?” you asked as he headed to the bathroom. 

Dean turned around and cocked his head at you. “To take a shower…?” 

“You’re not gonna—” you gestured to the rest of you. 

He shook his head. “I thought that was what we just fought about.” “I mean, it was, but still. Just surprised, is all,” you shrugged. 

“This may come as a shock to you, but not all men are horny animals, sweetheart,” Dean smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. “The jury’s still out on that one.”

***

Later that evening, you were tucked into Dean’s side. His skin was smooth to the touch, and you loved the shaky breaths you pulled from Dean when you’d rake your nails along his abs. 

“You gotta stop doin’ that,” he groaned.

“Hmmm, why?” you smirked. 

“ ‘Cause,” he returned, the ends of his lips pulling upward. 

“That’s not a very good reason,” you said, trailing down closer to the edge of his v-line. 

Dean gripped your wrist and pulled you flush against him. “Such a tease,” he growled against your lips. 

You kissed him with a grin and pulled away after a moment. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” You laid against him, his head nestled under your chin and resting on top of your naked breasts. You found Dean really enjoyed using them as pillows. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dean murmured. 

“Anything,” you replied. 

“What happened earlier?” You knew he was referring to what happened with Willem Dafoe in the motel room. He must have felt you tense under him when he asked. “You don’t have to answer; it’s fine—”

“No, no,” you cut him off. “I wanna tell you.”

Dean pulled away from you and adjusted himself on his pillow until the two of you were eye-level in the bed. 

“The guard,” you swallowed, “he- he held my hands behind my back. Had me on my stomach. I just… I freaked out.”

Dean looked angry, but you knew it wasn’t at you. “I swear, I’ll fuckin’ track ‘im down and kill him—”

“No, no.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

Dean grabbed the hand you had curled into your chest and stroked it with his thumb. “What do you need me to do?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly.

“Is that why you freaked out about the sex earlier?” Dean asked. 

You nodded. 

“Jesus, (Y/N), I didn’t—”

“Dee, I know. It’s okay,” you answered, squeezing his hand. “And it’s not just that, y’know? I still want you to show me that you love me through means other than sex.”

Dean nodded.

“And I still… I still wanna have sex. We haven’t had sex in, like, four months, and it sucks for me, too. I mean, sex with you is like, the greatest thing in the fuckin’ world, but it’s just… it’s hard for me right now.”

He nodded, and then a coy grin spread across his face. “Is it really the greatest thing in the world?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you sighed dramatically, shoving him away from you and rolling to your other side. 

Dean’s arms wrapped around you, and he pressed kisses to your neck. “Hey, be nice,” he said between kisses, “or I’ll withhold the greatest thing in the world.”

You giggled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

Feeling brave, you turned your face toward him and kissed him passionately. You turned around to face him once more, and Dean rolled on top of you. He ran his hands all over your torso. He was careful to avoid your breasts, and you were grateful he was trying to respect your boundaries. 

You broke the kiss and grabbed his hand, guiding it to your right breast without breaking eye contact with him. A deep hunger filled his eyes, and he quickly leaned back down to kiss you fervently. He squeezed your breasts and kissed down your neck while you threaded your hands through his hair. When his lips reached your nipple, he looked back up at you. “Is this okay?” Dean asked.

You nodded, heat flooding you. The touch of his lips to your skin made goosebumps erupt all over you, and your back arched into him. 

Dean pulled your nipple between his teeth, teasing the bud with his tongue. You writhed underneath him, tugging at his hair, and the action only spurred him on further. 

When he moved further down your stomach, though, you began to get a bit nervous. Dean noticed your body tense, and he immediately looked up to you. “Are you okay?”

You began to cry. “I don’t know,” you admitted, bringing your hands to your face in shame. 

Dean immediately climbed off you and tried to pull your hands from your eyes. “What’s goin’ on? Talk to me.”

You looked at him with watery eyes. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”

“Sweetheart, we don’t have to. Not till you’re ready,” he assured you, running his hand along your hip.

“Yeah, but we don’t have that much time left. I want to before you—” you cut yourself off, shutting your eyes and taking in a shuddering breath. 

“Listen, we got ten months left. We’ll work our way up to it, okay?” Dean promised. 

“But what if you lose interest in me because I’m—” you tried to think of a way to phrase your next statement— “out of commission?”

Dean shook his head, chuckling. “Sweetheart, I love sex, and I love having sex with you, but it’s not the only reason I’m into you,” he assured you. “We won’t do anything until you’re ready.”

“But I thought I was, and look what happened,” you lamented.

“Just means you weren’t ready today,” he shrugged. “And I don’t blame ya. It hasn’t been that long, and you just had that thing happen today. It’s okay, seriously.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

Dean nodded. 

“You’re not lyin’ just to make me feel better?”

He shook his head. 

“Like, absolutely positive—”

“Oh, shut up, (Y/N),” he said, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his chest. 

You giggled and relaxed against him, wrapping your small arms around his waist. He kissed the top of your head, and you matched your breathing to the rising and falling of his chest beneath yours. Within minutes, the both of you were off to sleep. 

***

Over the next few days, Bobby and Dean worked on the Colt you handed over to the older man. Their objective was to figure out a way to have it back to being able to kill demons which you knew Bobby was planning on using to figure out how to save Dean from his deal. 

You and Sam were on research duty searching for demons. 

“Think I got somethin’,” Sam announced from the messy kitchen table. 

You and the other two men looked at him expectantly. 

“Dry lightning and barometric-pressure drop,” he continued. “Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out. Might be demonic omens.”

Dean shrugged. “Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker.”

“Meh, but it’s our best lead since Lincoln,” you added. “Where in Ohio?”

“Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt,” Sam replied. 

Dean sighed. “There’s gotta be a demon or two in South Beach.”

“Sorry,” Sam grinned. “Maybe next time. How's it going, Bobby?”

“Slow,” the older man responded. 

“I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that.” Dean nodded toward the deconstructed marvel of weaponry. 

“Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick,” Bobby said, not looking up from the gun. 

“So, what makes it tick?” Sam smirked. 

Bobby looked up, not amused. 

Sam held his hands up in surrender, and you giggled. 

“So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio,” Dean began, standing up, “you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?”

You and Sam snickered while Bobby stared at him incredulously. 

“Well, it won't kill demons by then, but I can promise you, it'll kill you.” Bobby jokingly aimed the barrel at Dean. 

“Alright,” Dean smiled, “c’mon, we’re wastin’ daylight.”

“See ya, Bobby,” you said, grabbing your duffel bag off the seat next to you. 

You and the boys headed for the door. 

“Hey!”

The three of you turned back to face Bobby.

“You kids run into anything— anything— you call me.”

You nodded and left wordlessly. 

***

You met with a priest who, in fact, watched the man commit suicide. Something notable you learned from the priest was that the man went to church every Sunday up until about two months ago. The town had even changed; people just became “unrespectable,” in his words. Additionally, the other man who’d killed himself had changed, too. 

As you’d left the church, Sam had commented, “Two months ago, we open up the devil's gate; all of a sudden, this town turns into Margaritaville? It's no coincidence.”

Now, the three of you were heading a motel room. A shared one, at that. It made you happy to get to share the room with the boys, strangely; you guessed it just made you feel like less of an outsider and more a part of their family. 

As you opened the door, though, Dean’s voice turned you around. “Richie?”

You turned to see a man exiting the room across the hall. 

“I don’t believe it,” Dean said.

“Hey, Dean,” the man named Richie grinned, “Winchester, right?” A tall, scantily clad blonde with smudged eye makeup came up behind Richie. 

“This is my sister, uh, Cheryl,” Richie quickly explained. 

“Hey,” “Cheryl” smiled. 

Richie handed the woman some money, and Cheryl left. “Well, y’know, stepsister,” he awkwardly clarified. 

You laughed and shook your head while you plopped down onto the bed. 

“Come on in,” Dean said, leaving the door open for Richie. “This is my brother, Sam, and my girlfriend, (Y/N).”

Your heart swelled in your chest, and you were completely floored by Dean calling you his girl. The two of you had never discussed it formally, but you kind of liked how he just named it and claimed it. 

“Girlfriend, huh?” Richie teased. “You settlin’ down, Winchester?”

“No, never,” Dean replied. “She’s a hunter, too.”

“How do you two know each other?” Sam jumped in. 

“You were in school—” the older brother began.

Richie cut him off. “It was that succubus, in Canarsie right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freakin' tragedy when I had to gank her,” Richie lamented, shaking his head.

“Whoa, whoa. Wait. Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up,” Dean commented.

“Oh, I forgot what a comedian this guy was,” Richie scoffed, making you giggle.

“Richie, Richie, know what? I told you then, and I'll tell you again: you're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself killed,” Dean said, his tone becoming serious as he spoke. 

Richie’s phone rang, and he answered it before he could respond to Dean. “Talk to me,” he said into the phone. He then whispered to Dean, “FYI, Winchester, words hurt.” He quickly finished his phone call, and you and Sam exchanged a glance while Richie did so. 

“So, you find anything in this town, anyway?” Dean asked. 

The other man shrugged. “Ah, no. I got nothin’.” He then seemed to realize Dean wasn’t referring to women. “Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?”

The older Winchester nodded as if it was obvious.

“No, I got nothing.”

Dean chuckled. “Typical. What about your sister back there?” 

“Oh, honestly? She definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?” Richie laughed, but became serious when he saw Dean’s deadpan reaction. “Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby-shop guy; they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Hey, maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it.”

Sam added, “Yeah, that's where we are, too. You know, let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town. Y’know, raising hell—”

“Yeah, but why would a demon blow his brains out?” Dean wondered aloud. 

“Well, for fun?” Richie suggested. “Y’know, he wrecks one body, moves to another. Y’know, like taking a stolen car for a joyride.”

“Anybody else left in the town that fits the profile— y’know, nice guy turned douche, still breathing?” Dean asked the shorter man. 

“There’s Trotter,” Richie noted. 

“Who’s that?” you asked. 

“Oh, she speaks! Lovely voice by the—” Richie cut himself off and cleared his throat awkwardly when Dean glared at him. “Well, he used to be head of the Rotary Club. And then, people say he turned bastard all of a sudden? Brought in the gambling, the hookers… Ah, he practically owns this whole town.”

“Know where we could find him?” Sam questioned. 

“Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours.”

***

Off Richie’s tip, the three of you set off for the bar he’d told you about. 

You were dressed in a mini skirt and tank top that showed off your cleavage, and opted to pair the outfit with a pair of sneakers. 

Dean had laughed when he noticed your shoes. 

“What?” you’d asked. 

“Just… you,” Dean had replied. “Wearin’ sneaks to a bar.”

“I’m not wearin’ my heels to go step in spilled beer and possible vomit,” you’d shrugged.

When you arrived at the bar, it seemed more like a club. People bustled throughout the street, most of them heading into one of the several bars or strip clubs lining the street. Some were staggering around drunkenly despite the late afternoon sun; a sight you’d usually see at three in the morning.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” you said to yourself, taking in your surroundings. 

“I thought you said this was some boarded-up factory town,” Dean said to Sam.

“It is. At least, it’s supposed to be,” the younger brother responded, looking uncomfortable.

A girl walked past you holding a cocktail and eyeing Dean wantonly. You glared at her, but Dean honestly didn’t seem to notice her. He moved to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You smirked and wrapped your own around the small of his back. 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do some research,” Dean grinned, guiding you toward the bar. 

Despite your stoic, often introverted, and guarded nature, you really did enjoy nightlife on the occasion; especially if a particular Winchester was involved. 

You were the first to step into Trotter’s bar, sliding out from under Dean’s arm to grab his hand and guide him through the crowded room. The bar was completely alive and seemed more like a club than anything. 

You turned back to see Sam looking uncomfortable and overstimulated, and Dean just smirked down at you with that trademark hard-to-read expression of his. When you turned back around, you nearly bumped into Richie. 

“Oh!” You jumped back in surprise. “Hey!”

The man was wearing an orange short-sleeved shirt halfway unbuttoned to reveal a white wife beater underneath. 

“Oh, Richie. Look at you,” Dean chuckled, shaking his hand. “Bringing satin back.”

“Oh, you like this? Try Thai silk. Canal Street,” Richie boasted. “You'd have to pay $300 for threads like these, easy. Cost to me? Fuggedaboutit.”

“How much is ‘forget about it’?” Sam chuckled.

“Ah, forget about it,” the man shrugged, clearly a little intoxicated. “That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him.” He gestured to a bald, strong-looking man wearing a sharp suit. He almost reminded you of Kingpin from one of your little brother’s favorite Marvel comics. 

“So, what do we do now?” Sam asked.

“I’m thinkin’ I’ll go talk to the bartender,” you began. 

“Whoa,” Dean cut you off, “why can’t we have a little fun first?”

You deadpanned at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re here to work.”

“Yeah, but—”

You continued your deadfaced stare at him, and he conceded. 

“Fine,” Dean said. 

“May need some of your charm, too; who knows what she’s into?” you suggested, smacking Dean’s ass lightly. 

You smirked over your shoulder at him as you sauntered to the bar. You heard Richie comment, “You feel like sharin’?’ followed by a quick, “Don’t even think about it,” from Dean. 

You looked down the bar to see the priest you’d talked to from the church the latest victim died in talking to the pretty bartender. She turned away from him and to a customer further down the bar from you. 

“Father?” you asked. 

“Knew you kids would find your way here. They all do.”

“No offense, man, but what are you doing here?” you questioned.

“Like it or not, you go where your flock is,” he shrugged.

“Plus, the clergy drinks for free,” the bartender chimed in, handing the man a whiskey neat.

“True, and a certain bartender owes me a confession,” the priest jested. 

“Not in this lifetime, Father,” she replied.

“I better see your butt on Sunday,” he told her, getting up from his chair and leaving. 

“What can I get you, love?” the bartender asked you. 

You leaned up on the bar, pushing your breasts together slightly. “What’s your specialty?” you asked. 

“I make a mean hurricane,” she replied, smirking. 

“We’ll see about that,” you challenged. 

The bartender seemed intrigued by you, and she smiled flirtatiously as she went to make your drink. 

Dean came up next to you at that moment and wrapped an arm around your waist, hand landing close to your ass. “How’s it goin’?” he asked. 

“Just makin’ friends,” you shrugged, grinning. 

“Don’t get too friendly,” he warned. 

You snickered. Suddenly, something near the pool table caught your attention. 

“Hey, what are you doing?!” a man panickedly yelled.

You then noticed the man across from the panicked one was holding a gun. You nodded toward the scene. “Dean—” 

You set off toward the pair, but the man raised the gun and shot the other point-blank. The crowd immediately erupted into chaos as you sprinted over to the man who was raising the gun to his chin. 

Dean tackled the man to the ground, and Sam appeared beside you with holy water. He splashed the holy water on the man, but the man’s skin didn’t sizzle. 

“What are you doing?!” the man exclaimed. He suddenly realized what he'd done and began to writhe on the ground, crying, “He slept with my wife. That bastard slept with my wife!”

You took out your phone and called 911 while Sam and Dean kept the man in a sort of citizen’s arrest. 

When the cops did arrive, Sam seemed to get anxious again despite the bar’s emptiness. “Too many cops here. I say we roll.”

“Just be cool,” Dean encouraged. “Poor jerk. Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst.”

“So, what's the deal, then? People in this town getting possessed or not?” Sam wondered aloud. 

“I don’t know,” you said, furrowing your eyebrows. “Maybe they’re influencin’ ‘em some kind of way?” “Yeah, maybe,” Sam replied. 

“You guys ready for your mug shots?” a police officer asked you and the brothers. Cued by your panicked expressions, the cop tried to soothe your worries. “The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper.”

Dean seemed relieved and feigned enthusiasm. “Be an honor, Officer. What a thrill!”

“Yep, time to go,” Sam said, standing.

“Wait a second. Wait a second,” Dean stated, looking around.

“What?’ you and Sam asked in hushed voices. 

“Where’s Richie?”

***

The next day, Dean couldn’t seem to keep his leg from bouncing under the table in his seat beside you at Trotter’s bar. He kept trying Richie’s phone number, but no response ever came. 

“You do realize there's red meat within striking distance, right?” Sam said, referencing the large hamburger sitting in front of Dean. 

“How many times I got to tell Richie he's gonna get himself in trouble?” Dean sighed. 

“Dean, he’s not your responsibility,” you assured him. 

“And you’re assuming he's missing. I mean, maybe he just bailed,” Sam added. 

“He’s a moron,” replied Dean. “I mean, he's a sweet moron, but he's not a coward. He wouldn't just bail. I got to go find him.”

“I’ll go with you,” you said. 

“You guys do that,” Sam said. “Meanwhile, I think I’m gonna trail this Trotter guy.”

“Yeah?” Dean questioned. 

“Yeah. I don't know. Something about the way he looked at me last night.

Maybe there is something going on here.”

***

You and Dean returned to your motel around midday after lunch with Sam at Trotter’s. 

“How well do you even know this guy, Dean?” you asked.

“Well, it’s like I said—” he began as you sat behind your computer screen, “he was toast until I found him. We had a few drinks after, but that was about it.”

You stared at him over the top of your computer screen. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” you replied, a love-drunk smile pulling on the ends of your lips. “You’re just sweet.”

“Shuddup,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed. 

“Seriously! You care this much about a dude you don’t even know that you’re having me track the GPS in his phone. It’s adorable,” you replied. 

He kept his head low, but you could see the smile Dean was fighting. “You’re… annoying,” he murmured. 

“Oh, really? I’m annoying?” you smirked, standing from your chair while your laptop screen began to populate with all of Richie’s previous locations over the last week based on his cell phone’s GPS signal. 

Dean caught you by the waist. “Yeah, you are,” he said. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and lazily dragged your nails up his back. He let out a few shuddering breaths. You leaned in to kiss him when a dinging sound came from your computer and forced the two of you apart. You headed back to the laptop and pointed at his last known location. You pulled an image of the coordinates up. 

“Corner of Piermont and Clinton,” you announced. 

“He did mention having plans with that bartender,” Dean said, “maybe that’s where she lives?”

You nodded. “Alright, let’s get goin’.”

You stood to leave, and Dean smacked your ass as you walked off. 

“What was that for?!” you squeaked. 

“ ‘Cause you’re a tease,” Dean smirked. “And still annoying.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and grinned. 

***

After conducting your investigation, you were charged with the task of staying behind to wait for Dean and the bartender. You hid in the shadows of the cellar with your handgun readied. 

You heard Dean’s voice suddenly coming down the stairs toward the cellar. “Looks like the maid's day off,” he commented. “Everything okay?”

You heard the woman kiss Dean, and you nearly jumped out of your hiding spot. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” the woman said. 

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Dean tsked, “Richie was a friend of mine. When I realized I could track the GPS in his cellphone, I swung by earlier. Gave him a proper burial. It's better than rotting in some skank's basement.”

You stepped out from the shadows then, and the bartender launched herself toward Dean. She was suddenly stopped by an invisible barrier. 

“Oops,” Dean smirked. He leaned down to the carpet and lifted the corner to reveal the Devil’s Trap you’d spray painted on the floor while Dean was gone. 

“Isn't that a buzz kill?” the older Winchester smirked.  “Sorry, sister, but you're going back to where you came from.”

“I don't think so,” the bartender laughed. 

You took out the book in your pocket and began to read in Latin. “Exorcizamus te, omnis—” A violent gust of wind blowing past you cut you off, and you saw the demon before you with her eyes closed as though in deep meditation. You recollected yourself and began to read again. “Exorcizamus te—”

The pages were then ripped out of the book by the breeze. The woman opened her eyes and grinned at you.

“(Y/N), look out!” Dean yelled. 

Just then, the bricks from the walls around you began to crumble inward. You dove toward the window to avoid getting hit by falling rocks. Dean rushed to you and helped you up. He turned his gaze to the demon in a glare. The demon grinned. 

“What are you laughing at, bitch? You're still trapped,” Dean growled. 

“So are you, bitch,” she sultrily said. 

“So, what, I send you back to hell, and we rot down here?” you spat. 

“Half the plan. Doubt you’ll be able to do that without your little book,” she smiled. 

“I’m sure I could figure it out,” you said. “Exorcizamus te,” you began with authority, “omnis immundus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii—”

Dean suddenly gasped out in pain and began to grab at his neck. 

You immediately stopped the ritual. “What are you doing?!” you shouted, sinking to the ground with Dean, “Stop it!”

“Stop trying to ruin my fun, then. You’re good, I’ll give you that,” the demon cooed, Dean suddenly able to breathe again. “But I thought Sam was supposed to be the brains of the outfit.”

“How do you know that?” Dean questioned.

“You Winchester boys are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, y’know,” she shrugged. “And you, (Y/N)—” she hissed out your name— “are making your own way through the circles, too.”

“Well, that's flattering,” Dean commented, “I'll be sure to let Sam know when he gets here.”

“If he shows up first.”

The two of you looked to the bartender, surprised. 

“What, you thought I was flying solo?” she asked mockingly. “You shouldn't underestimate, kids, it might be the death of you.”

You glared at her. 

“You can give me hard eyes all you want,” she replied, “but the fact remains, we just have to wait and see who shows up first… the cavalry,” she smiled, “or the Indians.”

***

“Anybody ever tell you how nice your ass is, (Y/N)?” the bartender drawled from the floor behind you. You stood on top of a cask of wine attempting to get cell reception through the small window daylight streamed in from. 

“Bite me, bitch,” you replied without turning to look at her. 

“Look, why don’t you relax?” she asked you and Dean. 

“Why don't you kiss my ass?” Dean flippantly responded. 

“Why, Dean, you're a poet. I had no idea,” she deadpanned. “Look, we won't have any effect on the outcome of this. We might as well be civil.”

“Civil, huh? Killing Richie, that was— that was civil? The guy was harmless,” Dean countered. 

The demon raised an eyebrow. “That knife he pulled on me? Didn't look so harmless.”

“Ah, a knife wouldn't hurt you,” Dean replied. 

“No, but it would damage this body. And Casey has such a fine body, I wouldn't want to see it ripped.” The demon stretched out lazily on the floor, arching her back. 

“Touching,” you said, jumping down from atop the cask when your efforts proved pointless. “But don’t pretend you have a heart. We know what you did.”

“Hey, I didn't pull any triggers,” the demon possessing Casey shrugged. 

“Yeah?” Dean barked. “You did something.”

“You want to know what I did?” the demon pushed herself into a sitting position. “What I really did? I had lunch.”

“Lunch?” Dean questioned.

“Me and Trotter,” she began. “He had a cheeseburger, I had a salad, and I just pointed out the money that could be made with a few businesses that cater to harmless vice. So Trotter built it, and man, did they come. Supposedly god-fearing folk, waist-deep in booze, sex, and gambling. I barely lifted a finger.”

“That’s it?” you scoffed. 

“You don't get it. All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction,” Casey continued. “Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, kids. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win.”

“And that’s how this ends?” you pushed. 

“No. That's how it begins.”

“So, demons take over,” you continued. “And you’re convinced that’ll work… how?”

“Yeah, I thought the meek shall inherit the earth,” Dean piled on. 

Casey rolled her eyes. “Oh, according to your Bible. It's only a book, Dean.”

“Not everyone would agree,” Dean replied simply. 

You stared at him strangely, and he shrugged in response. 

“Because it's god's book?” Casey pressed. “Do you believe in god, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said honestly. “I'd like to.”

“Well, god’s done a bang-up job in my opinion,” you said, unable to help yourself. 

“Finally, someone who makes sense,” Casey snickered. “I like you, (Y/N).” She returned her focus to Dean. “War, genocide; it's only getting worse. I mean, this past century, you people racked up a body count that amazed even us. It's our turn, now, and we're gonna do it right this time.”

Dean heard a noise and turned his face up to the grate you’d tried getting cell service from. 

“Don't be hopeful, Dean. You're not delivered. It's only the wind,” Casey commented. 

Despite yourself, you laughed. 

Dean and Casey turned their attention toward you. 

“Whose side are you on there, sweetheart?” Dean questioned, slightly pointedly. 

“Sorry. Demon or not, she’s funny.” You cleared your throat and regained your composure. “You keep talking about this ‘endgame.’ Pretty vague. How am I supposed to even know there is one?”

“Why would I lie?” she countered. 

“Demons lie,” Dean replied. 

“Some do. Some are true believers.”

“Believers in what?” you pressed. 

Casey scoffed. “What, you think humans have an exclusive on a higher power?”

Dean looked shocked, as did you. “You have a god?” Dean asked. 

“Sure,” the demon shrugged. “His name's Lucifer.”

You deflated and crossed your arms. “You mean the devil.”

“You don’t seem impressed,” Casey noted, seeming intrigued by you. 

“ ‘Cause I’m not,” you replied. “No offense, but he doesn’t exactly put the fear of god in me.”

“Well, he should,” she told you. “Once, he was the most beautiful of all god's angels. But god demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, god banished him. Tell me, how do you like bowing before lesser creatures?”

“Lucifer's really real?” Dean wondered aloud. 

“Well, no one's actually seen him,” Casey explained, “but they say that he made us into what we are, and they say that he'll return.”

“Oh, gimme a break,” you said, slumping to the floor. 

“What? Is faith such a laughable concept to you?” Casey remarked. 

“Absolutely,” you said coldly. 

“Well, you’d better start believing. A lot of you humans are in for a real treat when this is all over,” she said coolly. “Dick Cheney?”

“He one of yours?” Dean asked.

“Not yet. Let's just say, he's got a parking spot reserved for him downstairs.”

Dean laughed despite himself before pausing a moment. “Hey, speaking of downstairs… What's it like down there?”

“What, Hell?”

Dean nodded. 

“That's right,” Casey smirked. “You booked a one-way ticket with that deal.”

Dean laughed in discomfort, and you eyed him sympathetically. 

“You're not gonna like it, Dean,” the demon said honestly. “And, um, judging from the trouble you've caused, I don't think you'll be getting the presidential suite. No, it's a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here?”

Dean looked somber, as did you. You knew better than to reach your hand out to comfort him, and you just sat against the wall with your knees tucked into your chest.

A few moments passed before Casey spoke up again. “Kind of funny, don't you think? Three of us sitting here like regular folk.”

“Yeah, it's hilarious,” Dean deadpanned, “y’know, in that… apocalyptic sort of way.”

“You're all right, Dean,” Casey said seriously.

Dean scoffed, and you flicked your eyes between your love and Casey.

“The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're— you're likable.”

“Well, keep how much you like ‘im to yourself, sister,” you spat. 

“Jealous, are we?” Casey mused. “Don’t worry, darlin’. He’s all yours.”

“A demon likes me,” was all Dean could think to say. “Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that.”

“You could say thanks,” she mocked. “That deal you made to save Sam; a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't.”

Dean paused for a moment. “It's been kind of liberating, actually. Y’know, what's the point in worrying about a future, when you don't have one?”

Your eyes saddened upon hearing that. You cast your gaze down to the floor, knowing you’d cry if you looked at Dean.

“Still, a year left. You're not scared?” Casey asked. 

“Nah.”

“Not even a little?”

“Of course not.” However, you caught the briefest bit of hesitation in his voice. 

Dean then seemed to notice your sadness. “Hey, I’m—”

“Save it,” you said, feeling brave enough to look up at him. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Didn’t mean to cause any trouble in paradise,” Casey snickered. 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” you asked pointedly. 

“I’m an open book,” the demon shrugged. 

“So, the gate opened. The demon army was let out. What now, huh?” you questioned. “I'm not seeing a big master plan here.”

“Honestly, there was a plan,” she replied. “Azazel was a tyrant, but he held us all together.”

“Azazel?” you and Dean asked in unison. 

“What, you think his friends just called him ‘Yellow Eyes’? He had a name. After you did him in—” Casey nodded toward you, “it all fell apart.”

You smirked. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

The demon cut her eyes at you in challenge. 

“So, what? No chain of command?” Dean pressed.

“There was. It was Sam. Sam was supposed to be the grand pooh-bah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he?”

“Thank god for that,” Dean breathed out. 

“Again with god,” Casey groaned. “You think this is a good thing? Now you've got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown. Most of them, gunning for your brother.” She looked toward a conflicted Dean, becoming incredibly serious. “For the record, I was ready to follow Sam.”

Before you could ask anymore questions, you heard Sam call yours and Dean’s names.

“Sam?!” you and Dean called, scrambling to your feet. 

“Looks like you win,” Casey smirked. 

You weren’t too sure that you actually had. “What’s that look for—” 

Your question was cut off by a loud pounding on the door. 

“Dean!” you heard Sam calling. 

“Sam!” Dean replied. “Sammy, down here! The basement caved in!” Sam’s voice appeared at the grate you’d been trying to get cell reception through. “Guys, hold on, okay? We’re coming.”

“Who’s we?” you asked.

“I’m here with the father.”

You whipped back around to Casey who seemed almost excited. 

“Sam, be careful—” 

And then suddenly, a gunshot was heard. 

“Sam!” Dean called. 

Then, the rocks covering the entrance to the cellar began to move aside. In came the pastor, who you attempted to rush. You were thrown to the wall and fell to the ground painfully. 

When you recovered, you stood to see the priest and Casey passionately kissing outside the Devil’s Trap. 

“You two?” Dean questioned, face twisting up in disgust. 

“For centuries,” the priest nodded. “We've been to Hell and back, literally.”

“Leave ‘em be,” Casey told the pastor.

He didn’t listen to her and approached Dean, grabbing him by the throat. You tried to rush him again, but you were held to the wall by the priest’s power. 

“Don't kill him. Let's just go,” Casey begged. “Please.”

Sam appeared at that moment and shot the priest without hesitation. Lightning emitted from the priest’s wound, eyes, and chest, and he slumped to the ground. 

“Sam, wait!” Dean told him. 

But it was too late. Casey suffered the same fate as the priest. You looked to the two real human bodies on the ground and mourned a little for both of the humans behind their demonic state. 

***

“I cannot believe you ransacked Richie’s stash,” you told Dean as he rolled a joint under the cover of night sitting on the hood of the Impala. 

“Well, not like he can use it anymore,” Dean shrugged. “Besides, it’s a tribute to him.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. You took out your lighter and took the joint from your partner. While you lit up, Dean asked you a question. “What do you think? About what we did here; you think it made a difference?”

“I don’t know. Humans aren’t our job, but still,” you replied after taking a hit, “it’s kinda weird leaving knowing things may never be resolved.”

“Yeah, I mean, maybe these people do just want to really destroy themselves. Maybe it is—” Dean seemed to struggle for a moment to find the words, “a losing battle.” He took the joint back from you and took a hit. 

“Is that you or the demon chick talking?” you asked playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. Although, you knew he knew you were seriously asking him.

“Oh, it’s me,” Dean replied. “Demon’s very dead.”

“Well, had to be done, I guess,” you shrugged. “Sam was saving your life.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know, (Y/N),” Dean started, shaking his head and passing the joint back to you, “it was cold.”

“I agree,” you nodded. You took a deep breath and slowly let a cloud of smoke pass through your lips. 

“Back in Wyoming,” Dean began, “there was this moment. Yellow Eyes said something to me.”

You looked to him expectantly, taking a second hit. 

“That maybe when… Sam came back from, well, wherever, that maybe he came back different.”

“Different how?” you questioned, cocking your head to the side. 

“I don't know. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. You think— You think something's wrong with my brother?”

You considered for a moment. You knew no matter how you answered, Dean wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew for sure. You opted for attempting to provide him comfort. “No. Demons lie. I'm sure Sam's okay.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[amirasainz]

hey! do you think you could write something where charles starts dating baby sainz after alex, and for a change she really doesn’t like baby sainz, or even a random oc ex gf of charlie and he gets annoyed whenever anyone says anything bad about baby sainz, and just wants her to himself? Thank you! ❤️

Ok so first things first. This is just a fic and not supposed to be hate towards Alexandra.

Now please enjoy reading and don't hesitate to send requests.

-XoXo

The better Girlfriend

The breakup between Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mleux was far from friendly. Their relationship had been plagued by cheating rumors, and the truth eventually came to light. Alexandra, a 21-year-old art history student, had kissed another guy during a girls’ night out. When this news reached Charles, their relationship came to an end

But Alexandra’s behavior during their relationship had already caused friction. She openly expressed disdain for Charles’s job in Formula 1, even going so far as to claim it wasn’t a real sport on live TV. Her rudeness toward fans and unreasonable demands put her in an unfavorable light. Charles endured his worst F1 season while they were together, and the media and fans didn’t hesitate to express their disapproval of her.

When Charles finally broke up with Alexandra, he received overwhelming support from the F1 paddock. His fellow drivers rallied around him during this difficult time:

Lando played games with him to keep his spirits up.

Pierre offered a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.

Max made sure Charles ate proper meals.

Carlos helped him navigate the PR drama.

And his “Grid Dads”—Sebastian, Lewis and Fernando offered invaluable advice.

In the midst of the drama, Charles found solace in the camaraderie of his fellow racers, proving that the racing world extends beyond the track and into the bonds of friendship and support

But there was one person, that helped him the most. Amira Sainz, the unsung hero in Charles’s life. While others lent their support, it was Amira who stood by him, often without uttering a single word. During Charles’s tumultuous relationship with Alexandra, Amira remained an enigma—a girl he wasn’t allowed to befriend due to Alexandra’s jealousy. But now, free from those constraints, their paths converged.

From strangers to friends, and then lovers—their connection felt destined. The media dubbed them the “it-couple,” and fans followed their story with respectful fascination. Initially, Carlos wasn’t thrilled, but time softened his heart. With Amira, Charles discovered a happiness he’d never known before—a beautiful girl who became his world.

And Charles reciprocated her love in every possible way. Each morning, breakfast in bed; after races, flowers to brighten her day. He listened to her fears and troubles, making her feel cherished and protected. But Amira wasn’t just a passive recipient; she left post-it notes in his luggage, their apartment, and even his car. She comforted him after bad races, helping him navigate his emotions. Together, they shared a dog—a symbol of their bond.

Their love wasn’t hidden; they proudly displayed it online. Fans embraced them as the “it-couple,” and Charles and Amira reveled in their shared journey. In a world of engines and speed, their love story unfolded.

Alexandra, Charles Leclerc’s ex girlfriend, stumbled upon one of their date posts. What she saw ignited a fire within her—a seething rage that drove her to spend the next five hours stalking the couple and dissecting their relationship. But Alexandra’s fury didn’t stop there; oh no, she took it a step further. In a desperate attempt to reclaim her own narrative, she created not one, not two, but seventeen fake “Alexandra and Charles forever” accounts on Instagram.

The internet, however, is a merciless place. Within minutes, eagle-eyed users ridiculed her fabricated accounts, exposing the charade for what it was. Alexandra’s attempt to rewrite history crumbled under the weight of public scrutiny. Perhaps it was a desperate cry for attention or a futile bid to regain control, but either way, the digital world had spoken: “Fake news!”

And so, as the engines cooled down and the F1 tracks took a breather during the summer break, Alexandra found herself caught in a whirlwind of her own making. Meanwhile, Charles and his new love interest, Amira Sainz, continued their blissful journey, oblivious to the storm brewing behind the screens

The pitlane buzzed with anticipation as Alexandra, fueled by anger and resentment, strode toward the Ferrari garage. Her eyes blazed with determination, and the photographers snapped away, capturing her every move. Lando and Max exchanged shocked glances—what was she doing here?

The Ferrari team, despite Carlos impending departure, held a special place in their hearts for the Sainz siblings. Their camaraderie and dedication had left an indelible mark. But now, Alexandra—the wicked witch, as some whispered—had infiltrated their sanctuary.

As she stepped into the garage, the once-happy atmosphere vanished. The air crackled with tension. Alexandra’s gaze swept over the familiar red cars, the tools, the mechanics—all part of the world that had embraced Charles and Amira. She clenched her fists, vowing to tear apart the relationship that had blossomed in this very space.

If it was the last thing she ever did.

And so, the pitlane witnessed a battle of emotions—a collision of love and hate, fueled by jealousy and wounded pride. The engines roared, but the real drama unfolded in the hearts of those who watched.

She looked around at the quiet garage and immediately spottet Charles and his plaything. The tensions were high as she strutted towards them. "Charles" she tried to say in a seductive voice. When she went to hug him and kiss his cheek, he stepped away. "Alexandra, what are you doing here?" he questioned sternly. "What? Can't I see my favorite athlete" she harshly asked. "Does the stupid bitch not allow you to talk to other women?" She turned to Amira. "No wonder she doesn't, I mean look at her. I truly don't see what you see in her. She dresses like a slut. I'm sure she also sucks your dick like one and-"

“Enough!” Charles’s voice boomed, cutting through the tension. “Don’t you DARE disrespect my girlfriend. You destroyed our relationship. You used me.”He stepped closer to her, eyes blazing with anger. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll never step a foot in the paddock.” With that, he turned away, leaving Alexandra standing humiliated in the middle of the room.

The air crackled with the aftermath of his words—a collision of emotions, hurt, and the finality of a chapter closing.

[james-is-here]

hi!!! i absolutely love your writing it's so good! please keep up the good work, i also never really see any kpop boy pussies so i'm hoping you will do this request.

i have a request, what about cock obsessed lee know who can't stand not having reader's cock not pounding his pussy. he gets so needy constantly begging and touching you very different from how he normally acts. so reader in return teases him back and it ends with lee know getting the best fucking of his life. thank you!! 

-🐰🔪

Oooh boy, thank you, after I wrote the other Minho fic, I've been motivated to write more and I am slowly but surely becoming obsessed with whiney, subby Min 🫠Also, the boys have like all the brands I know (except Han's) and I didn't want to repeat so your brand in BrandRacha is Prada :P

Also, let me know if I misinterpreted your request and I can rewrite it, I don't know why but I feel like I did by accident. There's still BoyPuss Min, just not sure if I fulfilled it to your liking.

Blogs: @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @succubus-hansol @leezanetheofficial @yongbokkk @michelle4eve @dontwannaexsist (Imk if I forgot you or you want to be added.

Tags: Min is called good girl so some feminization, desperate Min, implied color system, lots of edging, Min is called princess, good boy, kitten, other members are mentioned, Minnie gets emotional and drops, brief mention of a cervix. lmk if I forgot anything.

When you have free time, it's not just your free time it's yours and Minho's free time and during this free time he flips from his usual self so fast you get whiplash and you're completely thrown off every time.

He's seemingly annoyed that you and Chan hug him but that night he's a complete 180, begging for you to hold him close and let him ride your thigh.

Absolutely killing the stage and being his usual annoyed but loving self and after he's dragging you to an empty room, shoving himself against the door and pulling you in for a kiss while pulling your hand to his crotch and grinding the best he could in his stage pants.

You're wrapping your arms around him from behind on camera or on stage and he's standing there almost begrudgingly but really he's throbbing in his pants and soaking his underwear and when alone his hands are all over you trying to pull you close.

Don't get me wrong, you love how obsessed Minho was with you. You both have equal libido and stamina and it amuses you whenever you see the needy look his eyes. It's just...oof, well, a lot. He does relax but if you had to think, he has you inside him more often then not having you inside him.

Yes, the boys know about you, unfortunately Minho's neediness can be relentless and he said himself before a movie night with the others "I'll behave, please just let me cockwarm" and next thing you knew, Minho was squirming in your lap and Chan scolded both of you before kicking you both from movie night and to your room.

Now, you've been gone for a week for a Prada event and it was really fun to do something on your own from your group but ~someone~ called you at every opportunity the first day you arrived at the location the event was at that you had to send them your schedule so they didn't interrupt anything.

When you arrived at the dorms from the airport, it seemed that no one was home. It was late but most of them usually stay up late. Walking down the hall, you knock lightly on Chan's door before opening it. "Mn!" He looks up from his laptop, taking off his headset and getting up to meet you at the door to pull you into a tight hug, a smile growing on your face as he squeals softly and rocks you back and forth. "Hi Hyung!" Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you return the hug.

He then starts to jokingly cry and pull back, holding your shoulders at arms length. "I have all my kids back!" You let a snort out as he pulled you back into his arms. "Oh, I hope you're never gone that long again." "Hyung, You're sounding like an obsessed boyfriend." "No, I'm your desperate hyung, go take care of your boyfriend please."

You laugh as he all but begs you, turning you around and pushing you towards Minho's room. "I'm so jet lagged though, can I wait until tomorrow when I'm more awake?" "No, now, please, go." You shake your head and lightly kick your bag to roll over to your door before smiling at Chan. "Not a very good welcome home, you're all settled for the night." "I think Hyunjin is still awake painting." You turn in the opposite direction to go say hi to the dancer. "Jinnie." You cheer softly but Chan grabs your wrist. "Hyung..." You pout and he pushes you back over to Minho's room. "Boyfriend first, Jinnie later." Groaning you playfully shove him before going to your boyfriend.

You open his door, not even deciding to knock, and find your boyfriend in your hoodie and his sweats, laying in his stomach with one leg extended and the other thrown over his mangled blankets. He's hugging his pillow but looking again, the pillow case doesn't match his and you realize it's your pillow.

There's enough room next to him on his left so you gently crash next to him, throwing an arm over his back and pulling him, causing him to roll onto his side and into your chest. His hand falls open and something slides out, picking it up, it's a remote. You chuckle before placing it to the side and reaching down, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Tugging his hoodie, you slip your hand underneath, his skin warm under your cold hands and he whines in his sleep. Moving down, you slip into his sweats and you were honestly expecting his boxer shorts but instead you felt lace. Tracing the delicate details, you follow them until his hip, gently taking the band between your fingers then sliding further down until your fingers are near his core. "Min~" You groan quietly and remove your hand, pulling him closer until his ass is pushed into you.

Reaching up, you grab the remote, wrapping your arms around him before pressing the button for the second setting. His body jolts and pushes back into you as he gasps, breathing heavily. You can faintly see purple in the dark room of the remote and you smile softly when you process what toy is nestled inside him, the only one he has access to, not too long but not to short and no stimulation to his clit. It was the worse one to be left with but hey, you love torturing him.

Moving the remote to the other hand, you reach back into his sweats, dragging your fingertips over the lace of his underwear then grab his thigh, carefully lifting his leg and shifting onto your back slightly so he's laying back on you.

Your hand cups his heat, causing him to choke out a gasp as his chest heaves faster and his hips start to squirm. Raising the speed, your fingers find his clit through the fabric, making tight, quick circles that pull quiet moans out of him as he parts his lips and leans his head back on your shoulder.

"Minnie~" You murmur quietly, moving the fabric to the side and touching him directly. He is soaking wet, dripping around the toy and all over your fingers. "Minnie, Princess~" His breathing picks up, chest rising and falling rapidly and as his hips squirm and push back into you and your hand. You draw a few more rapid circles before withdrawing from him completely and turning off the toy.

He lets out a choked sob, hips still moving wildly as he tries to chase his high before eventually settling down with a whine and turning his head towards you, opening his eyes and blinking away his tiredness. "Hyung..." He pouts and you kiss it away. "Hi Princess." "Please~" "How about...no."

You turn the toy on again, resting your hand above his core and holding him against you. "How about I finally get back at you being a slutty brat, huh?" "I-I'm not a brat." "Mmm, but you are, Princess, don't lie." "M'Not, fuck~" You add your fingers back into the mix, playing with his clit. "Did you really think I wouldn't get back at you for being rude to the boys?" "I-I wasn't...I'm not-" "We just want to love you, Minnie, why you gotta hate us?" He whines and shakes his head. "N-No, that's not..."

You turn off the toy again and remove your hands from him. "No, Hyung, please stop." "You want me to stop? I'll stop if that's what you want." You move slightly, making it look like you're gonna leave the bed before he turns towards you, eyes brimming with tears as he grabs your wrist. "Don't go, please, please just fill me up please, I want your cock so bad, please." "I don't know if you deserve it, Minho. You should appreciate our love."

He gasps, sitting up and pushing you onto your back before straddling your thighs. "I-I do, I really do. I swear I appreciate all of you, I love all of you." "I don't know, Min." Your left hand, extended out on the other side of the bed, you click the second setting and he squeals with a gasp, hip jolting on your thighs before you place your hands on his hip to hold him still as his upper half falls forward and his hands prop himself up on your stomach.

His moans are breathy gasps as he tries to move his hips. "How about four more?" "Four?!" Tears fall down his cheeks as his fingers tighten around your shirt and his nails dig into your skin, not painful thanks to the shirt barrier but a light sting. "No...No, please, I'm sorry. I-I do a-appreciate you all, I d-do show it, I-I'm not a liar, Hyung, please..."

You know he does, he's not that cruel but it amuses you how he teases the boys and shows distain for their affection but then 180s with you and always tries to get your cock in him.

"Four more, for the last four boys." "No, please, I'm sorry." He cries and leans down until his face is hidden in your neck, tears falling onto your skin. "This is how you'll make up for it, yeah?" "No, please...M'sorry, Hyung, please..." "I said four didn't I? You don't know what I'll do for you to make it up to me." He doesn't have to make it up to you, you know the truth, but again, you love torturing him.

"Four more times then I'll tell you what I want." He whines when you finally shut the toy off, hip shaking in your hold. "Three, my bad. Or I could start over and you could do seven and tell me what each member means to you while trying not to cum." "No! Fuck, please, I-I can't take it."

Okay, you weren't that cruel...maybe another time.

"Four more, kitten." Turning it to the fourth level this time, he jolts, slowly trying to slide his hips further up to meet your crotch but you kept him in place. He harshly tugs at your shirt with a whine. "Off, please, off." "Don't move. You move, we start back at three." He nods, his hands moving to your waistband as you sit up slightly and remove your shirt. You could barely drop it to the floor when he pushes you back by your shoulders and his hands are rubbing your chest, his nails are scratching lightly against your toned stomach, their moving to hold your waist, they're everywhere.

"Stop." "What?" He whines and brings your hands back to his hips. "I-I'm gonna cum, stop." You smile gently and stop the vibrator. "Aw, thanks for telling me, such a good girl taking her punishment." You praise, lifting a hand to cradle his face and he leans into it, your thumb wiping away his tears and you pull him down, attaching you lips to his firmly and finally kissing him since you've returned home.

His hands cradle your face, kissing back just as hard before pulling back and moving to the crook of your neck again. "T-Two more...Please." "Being such a good girl, Minnie." Before turning it back on, you tug his waistband. "Take these off, Kitten." He gets off you, quickly taking the clothing off and tossing them away before getting back on your lap. He was wearing a pair of black lace panties you bought for him. "So pretty." You murmur softly, placing your hands on his waist before turning the toy on again.

You grip his waist slightly, pulling him down to sit on your thighs properly then sliding your hand down so your thumb is just above where his clit is. His stomach twist and he whines, his heat throbbing painfully and he wishes you would just move your thumb just an inch to relieve some of the pain but he knows it's wishful thinking, you know his body, know that if you did, he'd cum instantly. You're teasing him, driving him crazy and he tries to think of anything but your thumb near where he needs to be touched.

You bumped it to four and his hips jolt forward, your thumb nudging his clit slightly and he barely gets out his words. "Shit- S-Stop, stop." You turn it off and Minho shakes above you. "Fuck, it's hurts. Hyung please." "You can do one more, Kitten. I know you can." "I-It's too much, I- I can't-" His hips squirm subconsciously and you move your hand away slightly. "I know you can, it's okay."

He drops his head, his left hand holding himself up on your stomach and his right on the bed. "Min?" He hums, sniffing softly. "Min, color." "Green...i-it's green, m'sorry." "No, No, it's okay. Can you take one more?" "Yeah, I can...I can." "You sure?" "Yeah. S'punishment." "But if you can't take it, we stop." "I-I want to." His fingertips lightly graze over your abdomen. "Can..." "Can what darling?" "C-Can I touch you?" His fingers curl into your waist band and a soft smile graces your lips. "Yeah, you've been such a good boy, you could've touched me a while ago."

He tugs down your waistbands down just enough to wrap his hand around your length and pull it out from its confinement. "One more, hyung." "Okay." You turn it on one more time, pulling a whine from him as his hands are placed on your pelvis around your length. His head tilts back slightly before rolling back down and taking you into his hand.

He strokes you lazily but just enough to send sparks up your spine, making you groan. Minho whines softly, his hips stuttering with trying not to move and your heart melts. "Ride my thigh, baby." He shakes his head, picking it up and looking up at you. "N-No, one more, I-I can do it." "Min, it's okay." "S-Stop it, Stop the-" His legs shake as he gets closer and closer but you don't stop the vibrator and he takes it from your hand and turns it off, hips jolting forward as he settles from his last denied orgasm.

"Min, I was letting you cum. You didn't have to follow the punishment anymore." "B-But I-I'm a b-brat a-and I-I don't show that I a-appreciate the others..." "Oh, Min..."

Sitting up, you pull him into your arms and turn around, laying him on his back before his hands are on your chest as you pull your sweats back up. "Wait, Hyung-" "No, Min, what color?" "Green, Hyung, please. I-I have to-" "Truth, Min, What color?" You say firmly. "Hyung..." "Minho." You push, using his name and he stops and covers his face.

He's silent for a couple seconds before his body shakes and a choked cry gets caught in his throat. "Minnie..." "I-I d-do....I do apprec-iate a-all of you...I-I l-ove a-all o-of y-you, 'm s-sorry I-I d-don't sh-show it..." He gets out through his sobs. "Y-Yellow, 'M s-sorry, H-Hyung, 'm so s-sorry." You mentally slap yourself and lay down next to him, pulling him into your arms and hugging him close and tight. "No, Minnie, I'm sorry. I know you love them, I know you care about them, I should be the one apologizing, baby, I'm so sorry." You bury your face into his neck and hold him close both for your sake and his.

You feel so bad for causing his drop, of course you know that his coldness is just an act, you were just meaning to tease him. "Hyung is sorry, Minnie. I'm so so sorry." You kiss his cheek and lean back to look down at him, cupping his face with one hand and wiping his tears away. "I'm sorry for going to far." He sniffs, taking shaky deep breaths before leaning his forehead on yours. "Minnie?" "Hyung?" "You back with me?" "Y-Yeah." "You know when you dropped?" "L-Last I-I remember...w-was asking t-to touch you..." You sigh, bringing him back into your arms and tucking him under your chin.

"C'mon, let me clean you up." "W-Wait, but..." "Min, you just dropped, darling, I don't think it's best to keep going." "I-I said yellow...not red...I-I still r-really what your cock in me...this toy is dumb..." "Min..." "Please?" "Only if you promise that when we're done, I coddle you and give you the softest of aftercare and not just laying in bed after." "It's the middle of the night..." "Okay, fine, I'll just use a rag but let me make it up to you tomorrow?" "Sure."

You kiss him softly, like he was glass, before pulling back. "I really didn't have any way for you to make it up to me, I was just gonna fuck you and make you cum so it was more of a reward for you." "Is it still a reward?" "Of course but, now, you choose the position." "Any that let me look at and hold you." You laugh and gently pull him back onto your lap.

Carefully, you move the fabric covering him out of the way and slowly pull the toy out of him. "Shit." He pushes out with a heavy breath as you gently squeeze his hip. "Fuck...s'empty..." "Hold on, won't be for long." You set it aside and hold his other hip as he pulls down your waistband out of the way for you and pulls out your cock. Dragging him forward slightly, he wraps his arm around your neck as he lines you up with his entrance before sinking down. "Ah~ Fuck." His head drops down as his hand moves up a bit and he hovers over his clit. "Touch yourself, Kitten, go ahead."

His fingers instantly circle the bundle of nerves and his head falls onto your shoulder, his thighs moving automatically to ride you and you wrap your arms around his back to take control, thrusting up into him causing wet sounds to occur every time you thrust in and out of his soaked cunt.

"Fuck~ Right there." You thrust into that spot inside him quickly and you draw continuous moans out of him with every hit with your tip. "Move you fingers faster, baby." His fingers rub faster, drawing him closer to his continuously lost high.

"Open." He lifts his head and parts his lips, letting you put your thumb into his mouth and he closes around the digit. His tongue swirls around your thumb before you remove it and bring it down, glancing down to move his hand out of the way before looking back up at him and replace his fingers with your thumb. "Oh fuck~" His legs move again and bounce inconsistently, meeting your hips every couple bounces.

Your thrusts pick up speed along with your thumb and you throw your head back, groaning as your own high approached, then look back at him. "Fuck, Hyung, m'gonna cum, shit~ Ah~" He moans softly, his hips bucking forward and your thumb becomes firm against his clit. "Me too, Minnie. Go ahead, Kitten, you took my teasing so well, such a good boy, let go baby." Your thrusts go impossibly faster, at least to Minho, and he clenches around your length so tight you unexpectedly stop with a stutter, your thumb keeping its momentum as your sunk deep inside him.

"Fuck, Fu- Hyung, don't stop, don't- Ah Shit!" His moan drags from the back of his throat, morphing into a soft squeal as his walls flutter around you and he tightens around you even tighter, his hand flying to your wrist as he rocks his hips into your hand. "Fuck, Min." His tightness, the slickness, and his absolutely lewd sounds cause you to cum deep inside him shortly after, thrusting so shallowly and deeply it's as if he could feel you fuck your cum into his cervix.

"F-Fuck...s'deep, Ah~" His hips rock against yours before he's pulling your hand away and his thighs shake. He pushes your shoulders to push you back slightly before falling onto your chest and your slip out of him. You hiss and he moans, leaning his forehead on your peck as his muscle contract and he's too weak to stop your cum from dripping out of him. "Shit." He mutters quietly and grabs the toy from before and slowly inserts it into him as a temporary plug despite the multiple drips already staining your sweats.

Laying back on your chest, he wraps his arms around you. "Can we just stay here?" "We're all yucky though." "So? That's never stopped us from cleaning up later." You sigh, both having no energy and your jet lag catching up to you. "I'm only agreeing..." You struggle but manage to kick your sweats off then cover the both of you up. "...because I think my jet lag is catching up to me and I'm tired." "Good, sleep now."

He kisses your chest where he lays and you kiss the top of his head, closing your eyes and promptly passing out.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

for dad!jj— jj and the reader are in an argument and little maybank hears her parents yelling at each other saying hurtful things and she gets scared? yk yesterday she watched her parents with loving eyes as they laughed together, kissed, tucked her in bed, etc.. and now they’re acting as if they hate each other.

train wreck

pairing(s): dad!jj x mom!reader

warnings: yelling, hurtful words, teen parents

summary: while you and jj are in a heated argument, your daughter unfortunately catches a glimpse of it.

authors note: thank you for the request baby! enjoy :)

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“yeah? well maybe if you weren’t running away every other goddamn day, i wouldn’t need to ask my parents for help!” you shouted at him.

“i have shit to do!” he shouted back. “don’t you dare make it seem like i don’t fuckin’ care for you or our daughter.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “if you care so much, why are you never here?!”

“jesus christ, did you not listen to a single word i just said? i. have shit. to do!” he screamed, slamming his hand down on the table.

you knew he’d never hit you. he’d never even think about hurting you. yet the action was enough to make you jump. and that was when the both of you heard it.

the small whimper that you two had become so familiar with.

your heads immediately turned to the doorway where your toddler stood frozen, her bottom lip quivering and her eyes glossy as if she was about to cry. all the noise must’ve woken her from her nap with her messy hair and disheveled pjs. “what’s going on?” she asked, voice trembling.

you just wanted to cry knowing that your daughter had seen the monster inside the two of you. you quickly dropped any ounce of anger and frustration and rushed over to her. “hi baby,” you said softly, picking her up from under her arms. “we’re just talking.” you carried her out of the kitchen where the fight took place and into her room. “sometimes, me and daddy don’t always like the same things. we just have to talk about it to make it better.”

“are you okay, mommy?” she asked softly.

you nodded with a smile and brushed some of the short hair from her face. “i’m okay honey.”

“is daddy okay?” she questioned.

“mhm,” you said. “we’re okay. we just had a little disagreement.”

she leaned into your chest and wrapped her arms around your neck. “you guys were happy yesterday.”

you kissed her cheek softly and sat down on the bed with her. “i know. we’re gonna be okay. i promise.”

she crawled out of your hold and under her sheets with a big cheesy grin on her face. “go talk to daddy. i don’t like when you guys are sad.”

you chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead. “okay baby. you ready to go back to bed then?”

she nodded quickly. “night mommy. i love you.”

“i love you too,” you said, tucking her in and shutting her lamp off.

you headed out into the kitchen, rubbing your temples and groaning. “is she okay?” jj asked, standing up from his seat as soon as you entered the room.

“shes fine,” you replied tiredly. you hated fighting with him. it was hurtful and mentally exhausting.

he headed towards you, pulling your hands from your face and wrapping his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry, my love. i don’t wanna put anymore stress on you and i swear to be better. i just get overwhelmed with the whole having a kid at 19, you know? i’m sure you do too and its unfair of me to just leave all the responsibility on you whenever i feel like it. and i’m really, really sorry for yelling at you like that.” he apologized, his pretty blue eyes gazing into yours. “i just want to be here for you, sweetheart. for you and our daughter.”

you leaned into his firm chest, wrapping your arms around him and taking a deep breath. “it’s okay, j. i get it. but at the same time, this really has to stop.”

“and it will. i promise you it will,” he said, leaning back slightly and using his hand to tilt up your chin toward him. “i’m going to be here for the both of you until the end of time. i’m done running. you two are my entire world.”

you smiled tiredly and stood up on your toes to kiss his soft lips. “i love you jj.”

“i love you more, angel.”

[gnomewithalaptop]

Batfam Time Travel Fic Recs

Because @clarenceislazy requested it on my last fic rec compilation, here's a list of my favorite DCU time travel fics! They're all pretty Batfam-centric, but eh niche is niche what can you do

Damian fics:

A Good Place by LemonadeGarden - Damian gets sent back in time to a Batman who's never had a Robin. Very sweet, very fun.

The Rule Stands by Engineerd - After Dick's death, Damian has to deal with a time-displaced ten-year-old Dick Grayson. Love a good Dick and Damian bonding moment, PLUS this gets a happy ending <3

to stay in one place by Jezebunny - Injustice!Universe Nightwing!Damian time-travels/dimension-jumps to a timeline where Dick Grayson is still alive and his counterpart is still Robin. Ugh this is so angsty -- I have an unreasonable amount of love for Injustice Damian

looking for the shapes in the silence by popsunner - In a world where Dick died on the job, Damian falls through a hole in reality where Dick is still alive and finds that some things don't fit the way they used to. SUCH an amazing representation of complex grief -- literally every time I read it, I cry

Steph fics:

time slip by almondrose - A mistake in time leads to six Robins meeting. Honestly, this one is kinda cracky, and only barely qualifies as Steph-centric, but I still like it a lot

and we'll never be the same by almondrose - Steph and Tim go on a road trip to figure out the post-universal-reboot anomalies. This is more of a post timey-wimey-bullshit fic than a real time travel fic, BUT I think it's real cute regardless

Tim fics:

Tractors by lieu42 - Ooh this one is honestly so so fun! In a reimagined universe where DC's heroes operate out of the UK, Red Robin Tim finds himself right back in the year before everything went to hell. He has a duty to get back to his correct timeline so he can find Bruce, but with Bart and Kon still alive, there's a part of him that doesn't want to leave. Literally SO well written and trippy as hell -- this fic deals a lot with addiction, drug use, and grief, so definitely go into it forewarned. TimKon

not for very much longer by CreamOfTomatoSoup - ugh what CAN'T I say about this fic, apart from the fact that it's one of my favorite time loop fics of all time. Post Cult of Dionysus Bernard Dowd finds himself reliving the worst day of his life -- the day Darla got shot. Featuring identity porn, Steph as Robin, Original-Personality!Bernard, the grief of a childhood you can never return to, and the weirdness of having to interact with your significant other when he's currently a sixteen year old who doesn't know he likes dudes. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's not abandoned, just a wip, and I legitimately cannot recommend this fic enough. This fic made me read War Games. This fic made me a Darla Aquista stan. This fic made me ship timbern. Please read this fic.

Jason fics:

The View From Jade by lowflyingfruit - Jason Todd accidentally travels back to before Bruce took Dick in. I feel like this is on every time travel rec list, but what can I say: I'm a basic bitch

Two Dead Birds by InsaneTrollLogic - Jason Todd wakes up in the middle of his Mob Boss Era and immediately decides to rewrite his own history. This is very funky fresh of him, just in my personal opinion.

Dick fics:

So It Goes by 60sec400 - Bruce from Dick's Robin era receives a troubling call from Nightwing. Be warned -- this fic is angsty as hell. Implied major character death. Don't look at the incomplete warning -- it's a lie (the author has specified they intended it to work as a oneshot)

In This Or Any Other Universe by wildsofmarch - Dick-as-Batman ends up in Battinson-era Gotham. Again, I think this counts more towards the Dimension Travel pile than the strict Time Travel variety, but I'm still putting it here because I enjoy the hell out of it

a million dreams by CaptainOzone - In the seconds between the trapeze line snapping and their bodies hitting the ground, John and Mary Grayson find themselves transported twenty years into the future. SO GOOD I honestly can't stand it.

If you think I missed a fic you love (or if you've written any yourself and want to self-plug), feel free to drop a link in the reblogs! Especially if you know of any that center around Steph, Cass, or Duke -- istg I've scrolled through fifteen pages of the AO3 Time Travel tag, and I've found like maybe two fics that center around any of them. It's honestly a little ridiculous

[writtenfangirl]

Car's Outside

Inspired by Car's Outside by James Arthur!

This went through an extensive rewrite/editing process so hopefully, it's good!

I tried matching up the dates as much as possible so hopefully things don't get confusing <3

Edit: I posted this before qualifying for the Mexico GP thinking “I need something to make me feel better” after the inevitable news that the GP will break my heart only to wake up to news that Charles is on Pole with Carlos at P2 and Danny Ric at P4. I just need this to happen so bad I will literally cry if this happens

I'm packin' my bags that I didn't unpack the last time I'm sayin', "See you again," so many times, it's becoming my tagline But you know the truth, I'd rather hold you Than try to catch this flight So many things I'd rather say But for now, it's goodbye

“I’m sorry,” Charles frowned. His breath fanned across her face, his forehead connected to her own. Y/N’s eyes were closed, head tilted upwards as she breathed him in.

Y/N knew Charles had to leave. It’s his job. Unlike most couples, she didn’t have the luxury of spending every minute of every second of every day with her boyfriend. Not when he was a world-famous Formula One driver whose job meant he was in a different city every week. And though Y/N enjoyed the privilege of freely going in and out of every paddock in the world because of her connections, it wasn’t a privilege she could exercise frequently. Not when she was an international lawyer also tasked with jet setting to other countries of the world. 

But they loved each other and so they made it work. Or, at least, tried to.

“Don’t apologize,” Y/N said with a rueful smile. Beneath the musky smell of his cologne, Y/N could smell him, familiar and deep, as if the very essence of him had lodged itself in her nose, up her brain, and made a home for himself. “I understand.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Charles sighed, voice deep, as he, too, breathed her in deeply. “I’d rather hold you, here, forever, than catch a stupid plane.”

“You say that now, but when you win a race, you’ll forget all about me,” she teased, opening her eyes to meet Charles’s brilliant greens.

“Not true, cherie. You’re always the first thing I think of when I win. Every win is for you.” And, as if to emphasize the point, he placed a soft kiss on her nose.

Y/N rolled her E/C eyes, a wide smile stretching across her face at the kiss despite herself. “Charles, I’m already your girlfriend. There’s no need for your sweet words to convince me to be yours.”

“It’s the truth, cherie,” he chuckled, “I always think of you first, win or lose. That’s how much I love you.”

“I love you, too.” And then she pulled his face to hers, placing a kiss on his lips that had him grinning against her like a little school boy offered candy by his mother. He pulled her to him tightly, his arms wrapping around her waist as her hands wound itself around his soft hair. Kissing him always made her feel so dizzy, like the very air in her lungs left her to make space for him. She didn’t mind it one bit. She’d make space for him in every inch of her if she could. 

But one of them had to be responsible and it certainly wouldn’t be Charles. So, despite not wanting to, Y/N found herself pulling away, breathing heavy as her hands trailed from his head, down his neck and on his chest. She resisted the urge to smirk at finding his heart beating just as fast as her own.

“You’re making it harder for me to leave, cherie,” Charles panted, his hair mused where she threaded her fingers.

“Good,” she grinned as she reached up and flattened his head, “you should miss me as much as I miss you. Now go, Leclerc, or else I’ll receive a phone call from Carlos complaining that you kept them waiting.”

“I’ll see you again, cherie,” he smiled, eyes tinged with sadness.

“Of course you will. Good bye for now, mon amour.”

“Good bye for now.” And with one last kiss, Charles left. The door to their house closed behind him, the click echoing around their empty living room. All Y/N could hear was the sound of her own breathing, and when she was sure that he was far enough away, she finally released a sob that had her chest caving, her heart suddenly feeling like beads inside a hollow rattle.

I'm starin' at the same four walls in a different hotel It's an unfamiliar feelin' but I know it so well Oh, but you know the truth, I'd rather hold you Than this mobile in my hand But I guess it'll do, 'cause for you I would run up my phone bill

You say I'm always leavin' You, when you need me the most But the, the car's outside

Y/N didn’t think he was serious about getting on a flight back home, especially when she knew how busy he was on Friday on a race week. Not to mention the fact that the race this week was in Mexico, halfway across the world. But here he was, in the flesh, staring at her with those bright green eyes that she adored so much.

Of course, she should have expected this. Charles was nothing if not determined and when he said he was going to do something, he usually did it.

“You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.” Charles said as he barreled into their shared apartment, pushing past her and towards the living room, “I can’t stay long. Joris and Enzo are waiting outside to take me back to the airport.”

Past the front door, Y/N saw Lorenzo leaning against an expensive looking sports car next to Joris. Enzo as lifted a hand in greeting while Joris smiled at her. Y/N returned the greetings before she closed the door and turned to her boyfriend. Her brows were furrowed as she frowned at him, following him to their spacious living room. “What are you doing here? You have a race!”

“You wouldn’t answer my calls and I can’t race properly when I know we’re not okay.” Charles said as he ran his hands through his curls, sticking them up in odd angles. With a jolt, Y/N realized how long his hair was. The last time she saw him, he had just gotten a fresh cut from Pascale but now his hair was touching the nape of his neck. Has it really been that long?

Y/N took a deep breath before she spoke, gathering her patience as into a tight ball like freshly spun yarn. “Charles, this can wait—“

“No, it can’t,” Charles interjected, his words clipped and his tone sharp. “You were the one who wanted to talk and I’m already here so let’s talk. Do you want to end things or not, Y/N?”

“What?” She exclaimed, surprised at the sudden question. She wanted many things to happen but breaking up was definitely not on the list of things she wanted to do with him. Yes, they had their issues but she couldn’t imagine any of them could be solved by ending their relationship. “Of course not! Do you want to end things?”

Charles looked offended at the question. “No! I don’t want to end things. I want us to be together!”

“You sure don’t act like it!” She snapped before she could think about her next words. Part of her wished she could gobble up the words, stuff them back in her mouth before he could hear them but it was too late. Charles’ expression turned wounded, but his words held anger when he spoke.

“I told you about this before we started dating! I told you about my busy schedule. You came into this relationship with both eyes open, Y/N. Don’t act like you didn’t know about how busy I get!”

Y/N looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. She was beginning to get irrationally angry, and though Y/N was usually very good at compartmentalizing, there was something about the argument that had her wanting to scream. “Dammit, Charles! I know I signed up for this when we started dating but I also signed up for the breaks in between! I thought we could make it work then. But even during the breaks, you’re not here! And I make the time and I make the sacrifices to be here so imagine my disappointment when you don’t!”

“I told you to come to my races!” He yelled, his voice loud and echoing in their living room. His face was beginning to flush in anger, green eyes blazing as he spoke to her. “You’re always welcome there. I don’t know why you never come!”

“It’s hard to find any time to come to your races when I planned all of my time off around your breaks, Charles!” She yelled back. “Because, believe it or not, I don’t want to share you! Not when I barely see you as is. When I come to your races, I know you’ll be too busy doing your job to accommodate me and that’s okay. It’s more than fine. I’m happy to watch you do what you love to do. But, I want to at least see you. To feel you and hear you and talk to you. And I can’t do that during a race weekend because you’re busy and I refuse to be the clingy girlfriend trying to catch all of your attention. I planned my days off around your break period because I figured, that’s when I’ll see you more and actually spend some meaningful time together. But you’re never around! I get it, Charles. Ferrari comes first. I know what I signed up for. But lately, they’ve been coming second and third and fourth. When will it be my turn, Charles? Am I even on the list of your priorities?”

“Of course you are!”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it.”

Charles looked at her as if she’d struck him. “How can you say that when you know it’s not true. I love you, Y/N. You know that.”

She sighed, some of the fight leaving her body. “I do know that, Charles. I never said you didn’t love me. But just because you love me doesn’t mean I feel loved by you. I want to make things work. I try to make things work. But, sometimes it feels like you’re never around. And, I get it, you have a demanding job—“

“Don’t put all of this on me like your job is easy.” He scoffed, his eyes flashing in annoyance once again. “Your schedule is even more demanding than mine, and I’m sure that with your new job, you’ll have even less time for me.”

“Are you serious, Charles?” She hissed, her anger coming back in droves at his words, “You’re putting this on me? I make the time for you! Rather than seeing my family and friends during my breaks, I’m in Monaco for you and you always cancel on me at the last minute and I never complain! You were the one who missed our anniversary dinner!”

“And you miss my races!”

“You missed my promotion!”

“You never told me about your promotion!”

“How can I when you ditched me on our anniversary!” 

“I told you why I missed it! The upgrades were important—“

“AM I NOT IMPORTANT, CHARLES?” She screamed. Briefly, she wondered if their neighbors could hear them, if Enzo and Joris could but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, couldn’t bring herself to lift her gaze at him as she said her next words softly, the fight leaving her body. “The anniversary wasn’t the only thing you missed. You missed my birthday, too. You didn’t even greet me but I took it to stride because I knew you were busy. I didn’t complain until now because I understood. Even when you promised me you’d fly home for your birthday so we can celebrate together and then you cancelled because of the Ferrari party and the interview, I understood. I plan all of my time off around you and never around my family or my friends, who, by the way, live in another country because I know you want to spend time with me. I always understand, Charles. I understand so much that sometimes I feel like I’m always making the sacrifices for our relationship and never you. And whenever I think to myself, I wish he’d choose me for once, it makes me feel like I’m a terrible person because I know you’re out there trying to achieve your dreams just like me and yet here I am, complaining that I don’t get enough time with you. You’re always promising to make it up to me but you never do and—” A familiar lump formed at the back of her throat, choking her words as a searing heat prickled the back of her eyes.

She loved Charles, she really did. But it was beginning to feel like that love was one sided. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what loving a man like him entailed. She expected that they’ll rarely see each other but at the rate things were going, they didn’t see each other at all. And judging by the way Charles was looking at her, with the anger in his eyes replaced by shame, he was beginning to realize that too.

“I missed your birthday?” Charles said taken aback. 

“You were in Canada,” she shrugged miserably, “you were busy. I didn’t think I should remind my boyfriend when my birthday is. If you couldn’t remember, that just means you had more important things in mind.”

Shame coated his eyes as realization dawned on him. “I can’t believe I missed your birthday.”

She sniffled as she swiped at the tears that began to collect in her eyes. “It’s fine—“

“No, it’s not. I am an asshole, cherie,” Charles groaned as he pulled her in his embrace. His chest was warm, his arms even warmer as he tucked her head under his chin. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. I’m always apologizing to you and it’s not right. None of this is your fault. I’m sorry for saying those terrible things to you. I can’t believe you put up with me treating you like this for a whole year. Missing your birthday, and my birthday and our anniversary. Fuck, you’re right and it doesn’t make you a bad person to think those things because you’re right. I’m so sorry.”

Oh, darling, all of the city lights Never shine as bright as your eyes I would trade them all for a minute more But the car's outside And he's called me twice

Guilt, heavy and shameful, curled in his insides. 

No wonder she was so upset with him. Every iota of her fury and more, he deserved for the shitty way he’s been treating her.

“I’m so sorry, cherie,” Charles mumbled against her hair. The smell of her shampoo, as familiar to him as his own was, invaded his sense. “I’m so sorry.”

He could feel her hands begin to wrap around his midsection. It was soft at first, tentative, before she tightened her hold on him like she was stuck in the middle of the sea and he was the lifeboat that saved her. He could feel her leaning her weight against him, the feel of her body a reassuring weight he didn’t realize he lost but was finding his whole life.

“I’m staying,” he said, pressing kisses against her head in between his words, “we’re going to celebrate everything. Your birthday, mine, our anniversary, even your promotion. You deserve as much. You deserve even more. Come fly with me, baby. Let’s go, wherever you want.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N said as she pulled away from him, eyes wide as she peered at him through her lashes.

“I’m staying here, in Monaco, with you.” He said slowly, conviction filling him as he said the words.

She gave him a dubious look. “Charles, it’s a race week. We both know you can’t miss that. It’s in Mexico for crying out loud! That’s why halfway across the world. You need to be back on the plane now if you want to make it back by Sunday.”

“I don’t care.” He said stubbornly. “None of it matters without you. Ferrari already took my breaks. I can sacrifice a race or two” And then his lips pulled into a rueful smile. “Besides, I’m not in the running for the championship anyway.”

Her eyes were still twinkling from the unshed tears, and despite the frown pulling at her lips, Charles had never thought she looked as beautiful as she did today. “But Charles, I have a job to do. I’m set to leave for London two days from now.”

His phone rang, interrupting their conversation. He fished it out of his pocket with a sigh, seeing Enzo’s face flashing on the screen. His arms were still wrapped around Y/N as he answered the phone

“Charles, nous devons partir,” Enzo urged.. (Charles, we need to leave.)

“I’m not going anywhere,” Charles replied, eyes trained on Y/N, who was watching the whole exchange with wide, reproachful eyes. “I’m right where I need to be.”

“Quoi?” (What)

“Cancel my flight, Enzo. I’m not going back. You and Joris can go home. Tell Maman I love her,” he said, ending the call before his brother could protest.

“Charles you can’t just leave in the middle of the weekend.” Y/N said, looking at him like he’d grown two heads.

“Yes, I can.” He said determinedly as he placed his hands on the side of her face, caressing her cheek as he stared deeply into her eyes in an effort to try and make her understand just how serious he really was. “I’m not racing this week. Or next week.”

“You’re going to miss Brazil too?”

“Yes. It’s time I choose you for once. I’ll race back in Vegas and Abu Dhabi but they’re lucky they’ll get even that. I chose them time and time again, cherie, and it’s not right. This is me making it up to you.” He pulled her face to his, placing a kiss on her lips. It was slow and languid, like the winding of a stopped clock that you’re trying to make right. Charles knew how lucky he was to have Y/N and she didn’t deserve to be forgotten, especially not like this. All he’s done was give her empty promises and if there was anyone in the world that deserved the best, it was her.

She pulled away from the kiss, loss of her making him groan. “What about my job? I have so much to do when I get to London. I won’t be in Monaco until the first week of November and the breaks will be far and few in between.”

“Then take me with you. Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” he said before pulling her into another kiss, this one searing and needy. He felt her pull him towards her, closing whatever distance was between them until their bodies lined flushed against the other. He could feel her figure through their clothes, feel the way her breath hitched as his hands found themselves on her waist, thumbs skimming the soft feel of her skin. She gasped at his touch and the feral feeling that seized him had the tether in him snapping. He kissed her harder, hands winding down to the back of her legs and lifting her. Almost instinctively, Y/N’s legs wrapped around his waist, her feet crossing at his back. Her hands wound themselves around his hair, pulling at the strands in a delicious way that made him shudder. 

How could he choose Ferrari over and over again when they would never be able to make him feel this way? He doubted not even winning a race in Monaco would feel as she good as she does.

His phone rang again, interrupting their moment. Charles groans as he pulled away and Y/N’s laugh rang around their living room. If another phone call interrupts them again, he’s getting rid of this thing. He clicked the green button, Fred’s face flashing as he answered the call with one hand while the other continued to grip Y/N.

“Charles—“

“I’ll see you in Vegas, Fred.” Was the only thing he said before Charles clicked the red button and tossed the phone aside, focusing his whole attention back on his girlfriend.

But he's gonna have to wait tonight I'm not gettin' in the Addison Lee Unless you pack your bags You're comin' with me I'm tired of lovin' from afar And never being where you are Close the windows, lock the doors Don't wanna leave you anymore

“You mean it? You’re really skipping Mexico and Brazil for me?” Y/N asked, her voice hopeful as she spoke. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, fingers playing at the strands of his hair.

“I am.” He said with all the seriousness he could muster. “I love you, cherie, and I want to love you by your side. You’re my number one priority and I’m sorry that it took me so long to remember that. I know I’ll have to leave again but that doesn’t mean I have to leave you. I love you, cherie. Will you let me come with you?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled, before she leaning her face to him, continuing their kiss right were they left off. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

With You, Even When I'm Not

Requested Here by the amazing @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When one of Tim Bradford's enemies is released from prison, he sets out to hurt Tim by hurting you. You trust that Tim will save you, but time is not on your side.

Warnings: angst, car accident, torture (injuries to r), based on 2x11 but this isn't a rewrite (for once lol), crying, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 5.5k+ words

A/N: I didn't include a scene with Tim threatening someone like he does in 2x11 and I kinda regret it because it was hot, but I also really like how this turned out...

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead.”

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Less than eight hours ago, you sat beside Tim in roll call. You force yourself to remember that rather than consider what Ferguson plans to do to you.

- 8 Hours Ago - 

Your day starts like any other: you wake up, get ready, go to the station, and take your seat beside Tim for roll call. The sun is bright, the sky clear, and Los Angeles is event-free for once. So, it has the makings for a good day.

“What is up with you?” Tim asks quietly.

“What do you mean?” you counter.

“You’re all smiley and happy. Someone puked in my shop yesterday and you’re acting like this is the best job in the world.”

“It is!” You chuckle at his look before explaining, “It’s going to be a good day. Just let me enjoy this one for every hundred bad ones I’ve dealt with.”

“Sure.”

Wade enters, and you give him your full attention, though you never forget about Tim. He’s a constant in your life, and you wish you could have him by your side every moment, not just during roll call.

“Nolan, Harper is back so you can return to your TO,” Wade says.

“That’s why you’re so happy,” Tim muses. “You got rid of Nolan.”

You shake your head and smile before you stand. You’re patrolling in one of the nicest Los Angeles neighborhoods today, so you probably won’t see or hear Tim much today.

“Have a good one,” you tell him.

“Be careful,” he replies.

You exit the room, and Tim watches you go. Lucy walks to his side and stops, aware of what he’s looking at and longing for.

“Let’s go, boot, don’t just stand there,” Tim demands.

“Bradford,” Wade calls. “A word? Chen can stay.”

Tim nods and follows Lucy to the front of the room.

“Ferguson was released on parole this morning,” Wade says. “Sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know.”

“He had fifteen years left; how did this happen?” Tim asks.

“Who’s Ferguson?” Lucy inquires.

“Someone I arrested,” Tim answers. “He threatened to kill me when he got out.”

“Oh. Uh, should we-“

“That is up to Officer Bradford,” Wade interjects. “If you want to sit today out, I’ll understand.”

“No. I’m not letting him ruin my life, too. We can handle Ferguson if he’s stupid enough to show his face.”

“The parole board seems convinced he’s reformed, but we both know he’s a good liar and a better manipulator. Keep your eyes open, Tim, and don’t hesitate to call in anything you think is a threat.”

“Yes, sir. Let’s go, boot.”

Tim leads Lucy to the shop, and he's quieter than usual. Lucy hasn’t been a cop as long as him, but she knows what it’s like to have a criminal blame you for the consequences of their actions. She won’t push Tim, not about this, but she has questions about everything she heard.

“Pull up Roscoe Ferguson,” Tim says as he turns onto the road. “Get familiar with his face. If you see him, I want you to know it’s him.”

“You really think he’ll do something?” Lucy asks as she turns the dashboard computer toward her.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-9, are there any alerts in my area?” you ask into the radio.

“Negative, 7-Adam-9.”

You nod to yourself and place the radio back in the console. The morning has been quiet and slow. You know you shouldn’t complain; a sunny drive in the hills is rarely a bad thing, but you’re a cop, and you’re getting bored.

“7-Adam-9, switch to channel 4 for Sergeant Grey,” dispatch instructs.

You turn the channel dial and let Wade know you’re there. He doesn’t answer, and you slow at a stop sign as you bounce the radio against your thigh.

“You’re in the hills, right?” Wade asks suddenly.

He doesn't use your name or call number, only asks a rushed question. It concerns you, but you remain professional.

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “Do you need me to come back?”

“No, stay up there. Just wanted to double-check.”

“What’s going on?”

Wade goes silent again, and you repeat the question.

“Nothing, I hope. Just trying to keep everyone connected to Bradford out of the heart of LA today.”

“Why?”

“Ferguson was released.”

“He has 15 years left on his sentence!” you exclaim into your empty car.

“I know. I’m trying to get everything figured out and petition for it to be reversed, but for now, just keep working.”

“Yes, sir.”

You turn the channel back and set the radio down. Roscoe Ferguson hates Tim and would do anything to get to him. Tim knows you're here for him, so you focus on your assignment. The Hollywood hills are quiet this morning, but you know better than to let your guard down.

As you turn onto Tahoe Drive, you notice a black truck in your rearview. He gets close to the tail of your shop but slows suddenly and turns onto Tahoe Place. You roll your eyes; the people who live in the Hills drive like they own the hills. They probably do, but it doesn’t excuse unsafe vehicle operation.

You round the bend where Tahoe Drive turns into Lake Hollywood Drive, and the Hollywood Reservoir comes into view. When you glance up, you see the black truck speeding toward you again. You hit the lights and leave them on for a few seconds as a warning, but the driver doesn’t slow. If they pass you, you’ll stop them and issue a ticket, you decide.

There’s a point on Lake Hollywood Drive where there’s less than 200 feet of terrain between the road and the reservoir. It’s covered in sparse foliage, but it would be easy enough to get to the water or hide in the trees. You realize too late that the truck isn’t slowing down or moving to pass you as you near that point. It rams into you from behind, and you lurch forward before the seatbelt catches and snatches you backward. Steering is pointless as the shop slides into a small patch of dirt. The truck is still driving, pushing your car forward. The driver stops just before you collide with a tree, and you reach for the radio.

It's fallen from the console, and the seatbelt holds you uncomfortably tight to your seat. As you wrestle to free yourself and get the radio, you don’t see the man exit the truck or approach your window. He hits it with an illegal tool used for breaking into cars, and you turn your face away as glass showers over you.

“Hi,” he greets. “7-Adam-9, right?”

“And you’re Roscoe Ferguson,” you answer.

“Bradford, get back to the station,” Wade radios, “Now.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asks as he makes a U-turn.

“Ferguson stole a truck. We don’t know where he went after or what he’s planning to do.”

“We should find him,” Lucy says.

“And don’t say you should go look for him,” Wade adds. “You’re too close to this.”

“He’s not going to kill me, Grey,” Tim argues. “Let me help. I caught him once; I can do it again.”

“Get back to the station. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim sighs as he continues driving toward the station. The last time he worried about Roscoe Ferguson, you were sitting beside him. Though you’ll never take the credit, Tim thinks you’re the main reason he finally got Ferguson in cuffs. 

“What now?” Lucy asks.

“We find a way to help find Ferguson,” Tim replies.

“Get out,” Ferguson demands. 

He pushes the gun closer to your face, and you raise your hands slowly. Your left shoulder aches from the impact of the seatbelt, and as you reach through the broken window to open your door, you feel the tiny scratches littering your face and neck sting. Ferguson pulls you away from the shop and pushes you toward the reservoir.

“What’s your plan here, Roscoe?” you ask.

He taps the gun against your back to make you keep walking. With your back to him, you slide your hand into your pocket and remove the laminated piece of paper you keep in it. It falls to the ground, and you hope it’s enough to help Tim find you and Roscoe. 

“Kill me to get to Tim? Hurt him without touching him because you know he won’t let you get the chance?”

“Shut up!” Ferguson yells. “Walk!”

Taunting him may not be your brightest decision, but making him mad will make him careless. When you reach the water, he grabs your belt and pulls you backward. Your breath rushes out as your back hits the ground, but you smile through the pain.

“You will never beat him,” you say.

“Tim Bradford took everything from me. Let’s see how he likes the feeling,” Ferguson responds.

He raises the gun to your face and pushes the barrel against your forehead. You keep your eyes on him, unwilling to flinch in the face of death. He changes his mind, however, and brings the butt of the handle down against your temple instead, and everything goes dark as the water blows in the wind.

Tim and Lucy have been relegated to desk duty. With Ferguson on the run and numerous threats against Tim’s life, Wade decided it would be best for him to stay here. Wade watches them from his office and shakes his head when Lucy begins twirling her handcuffs around her finger. His phone rings and Wade steps away from the glass door to answer it.

“Sergeant Grey,” he answers.

He listens silently before lowering the receiver and stepping out into the station. Tim looks up, and his expression drops immediately.

“What happened?” Tim asks as he stands.

“They found the stolen truck. It was involved in an accident near the reservoir. He, uh… Ferguson ran a cop off the road, and they’re both missing.”

“Who?” Tim asks, urgency and panic lacing the syllable.

Before Wade can answer, dispatch reads your badge number in a missing officer alert, and Tim’s blood runs cold. He freezes, staring at Wade as he realizes what has happened and that it’s his fault. Tim never anticipated Ferguson going for the people Tim cares about – loves – and he should have.

“Let me go out there,” Tim demands lowly. “I can find her.”

“I shouldn’t,” Wade answers. He looks to Lucy and adds, “But I will. Don’t try to do this alone, Bradford. Take help where you can get it.”

“I don’t want the credit; I want her back,” Tim snaps.

“Then get to the reservoir and do what you do best, Tim.”

Lucy nods at Wade, an unspoken promise that she’ll do her best to help him and keep him from spiraling. They both know that it’s easier said than done.

“Tim,” you call out when you wake.

“Nope, just me,” Ferguson says.

He’s sitting across from you as he carves a piece of wood into a chipmunk. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, and one of your ankles is secured to a metal pole with your handcuffs. Whatever he’s planning to do to you will hurt you, but it will hurt Tim much worse.

“I hope you’re asking for a lot of ransom,” you mumble.

“You and I both know this isn’t about money. It’s about that little partner of yours and what he did to me.”

“Making you pay for your crimes? Yeah, he’s a terrible person.”

Ferguson moves forward quickly. The half-finished wood carving falls to the floor as he presses the knife under your jaw.

“These whittling knives are small, but I can cut an artery before you can call out to him again,” he threatens.

You swallow, causing the knife to bob in his hand. He presses harder and turns to the left before standing. Warm blood trickles down your neck, and you wonder what he plans to do to you before he kills you. If you didn’t have so much faith in Tim, you’d be tempted to anger Ferguson and trick him into killing you early. It’s a terrible thing to think, but at the end of the day, you’re a cop, and you know when your chances aren’t good enough. Right now, they are.

“When he gets here, he will put a bullet in you this time,” you tell Ferguson.

“You stopped him last time,” he answers.

He’s planning to use you as a human shield; let Tim be the one to finish you off in the darkness. Perhaps that’s why you’re underground. The only light you see is from a small lamp; when it goes off, you will be plunged into complete darkness.

“Stop talking,” Ferguson demands as he retrieves his chipmunk. “We don’t have much air in here.”

You try not to let your shock show, but as you look around and fail to see a single air vent, you worry that Tim won’t make it in time. Forcing yourself to take a steady breath, you close your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Ferguson chides. “No napping. We have to stay awake for the pre-game, and the final score.”

He tips your head back, and your eyes open instinctually. When he sees that, he tightens his grip on your jaw and circles you. Looking at him upside-down, you tug against your restraints. He raises a foot and places it on your bound hands before stepping down hard and fast. Your shoulders pull backward at a painful angle with no room that makes you yell in pain. Ferguson’s laugh drowns out your scream, and he keeps his hand on your jaw as he lays a rope over the back of your neck to hang over your shoulders.

“He’s going to kill you,” you say between pants when Ferguson releases your face.

He hinges at his hip, invading your personal space as he smiles and says, “You too.”

“Bradford, there’s blood,” an officer alerts.

Tim steps to your open shop door and sees a few small, oblong blood drops on your seat. Based on the shape, you were in motion when they fell, and it wasn’t enough blood to kill you.

“Probably from the glass,” he decides. “Let’s move toward the reservoir. We can’t tell footprints apart but watch where you’re stepping!”

“Tim!” Lucy yells from just past the tree line.

He jogs to her side and looks down. She found a small, laminated piece of paper, and Tim recognizes it immediately. Your self-proclaimed “perfect fortune” from one of your first dinners together as P2s rather than rookies. He picks it up and looks toward the water. He’s looking in the right place, you made sure to tell him that, but he feels like he’s missing something else.

“Please,” you whimper, even though you know he can’t hear you.

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Ferguson asks. “He’s not here.”

The only thing on your mind is Tim because if you stop thinking about him you’ll only know the unbearable pain and the man inflicting it. Ferguson places his foot between your legs, pushing against the chair slowly. It tips back, and you close your eyes and imagine Tim catching you. It doesn’t stop the initial pain of your leg being held in one place by the handcuffs as the rest of your body moves back or the scream you release as you hit the floor, but it does give you a reason to keep fighting. Ferguson pulls you up nearly as fast as he tipped you over, and the rope digs in against the side of your neck.

“This is the best workout I’ve ever had,” he says.

He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead, and you notice how hot and thick the air seems. Ferguson admitted that the air supply was limited, so if you start wasting it, maybe he will leave.

“If you call him…” you begin slowly. “Let me hear Tim Bradford’s voice one more time, and I will lure him here for you.”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” Ferguson asks.

You nod and immediately regret it when he pulls the rope and forces your head down toward your chest.

“I’m not letting you take control. This is my plan, and it ends beautifully.”

“I can’t do this!” Tim yells.

He runs his hands over the back of his head and down his face as he squats by the reservoir. There are no other hints about where Ferguson took you, nothing to guide Tim toward saving you, only dirt and broken promises. He told you that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you; Tim whispered the promise in the dead of night when you were asleep during an overnight patrol, yet he’s holding himself to keeping it like it will kill him if he doesn’t. Because it will.

“Tim don’t give up yet,” Lucy encourages. She lowers beside him and lays a hand on his back. “We can do this, but we have to work together. The paper means something right? Could it be more than an indication she was here?”

Tim wipes under his eye, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes tears are streaming down his cheeks. He stops them quickly, but she pats his back to remind him he’s not fighting alone. You’re fighting, too, and Tim needs to remember that.

“Lucy, I lo-“ Tim stops suddenly, though Lucy is confident she knows where he was going. “I know what it means.”

He stands quickly, and Lucy follows him to the place where they found the fortune. The little strip of paper from a fortune cookie has been in your pocket since you read it, but not only for the encouraging message on the front.

“34831,” Tim says.

“Your badge number?” Lucy asks, tilting her head to the side. “What about it?”

“It was on the back of my fortune that night. Hers, though, didn’t have a number. So, we wrote one on it.”

“What’s the number?”

“2 25 12 9. I didn’t think she’d know what it meant.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s an alphabet cypher, but backward.”

“B, Y, L, I,” Tim rattles off. “If she had this, she may have left more clues at those points: 2, 25, 12, and 9.”

“This would have been about 2,” Lucy says, gesturing to the ground. “That’s what, 2 meters from the car?”

Tim furrows his brows at Lucy’s use of meters but nods anyway.

“We can’t walk 25 meters forward, we’d be in the water,” Lucy points out.

“Then we need to spread out in every direction we can go 25 meters… Unless I’m wrong.”

“Don’t question it.”

“No, she would’ve fought. He wouldn’t have been able to make her go anywhere if she wasn’t willing to. We should assume that she couldn’t leave a trail after this point.”

“Then we’re back where we started?”

“Exactly.”

“Tim, what does that even mean?”

“She’s still here. They both are.”

Tim turns and yells for someone to get satellite imaging of the area and the camera footage from your car. Your body cam and police uniform shirt were discarded by the water but the cameras could tell them what happened before and during the initial attack.

“We’ll find her, Tim,” Lucy promises again.

“Thank you,” Tim whispers.

Running footsteps echo over the top of the tin deathtrap you’re in. Someone yells, and Ferguson ducks his head as he moves out of your sight.

“Tim!” you yell.

Your voice cracks, and as you prepare to yell again, Ferguson pulls the rope around your neck. It digs into your skin and compresses your windpipe. Tears begin leaking from your eyes, and after the day you’ve had, you don’t care to stop them.

“Tim, please,” you whisper.

“Welcome to the final round,” Ferguson says into your ear. 

He loosens the rope and pushes your chair forward. His foot pulls down against your hands again, pulling your shoulder muscles cruelly as they stretch to accommodate the impossible movement. You scream in agony as Ferguson pushes you past the point he stopped at previously.

“Did you stop to ask yourself what he’s thinking? Wouldn’t he have found you sooner if he cared? I’ve been out long enough that he knew, yet he let you out by yourself,” Ferguson taunts.

“You won’t win,” you say between ragged breaths.

Ferguson pulls your head to the side to hold the whittling knife against your windpipe, and the cut he made earlier pulls open. Your white shirt is stained with blood and tears, and even as your blinks slow and breathing begins to feel impossible, you trust Tim.

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead,” Ferguson says.

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Throwing your head backward, you ignore the sting of his knife sliding across the tender skin of your neck. Your skull hits Ferguson’s nose, and he staggers backward with a hand holding his face. Suddenly, you can’t pull a full breath into your lungs. Time has run out, and Tim isn’t here yet. You hold your breath as Ferguson stumbles behind you. He drops, and you see his hand and face are covered in blood. His chest rises and falls slowly, but you’re safe until the rest of the oxygen is used up.

“Tim,” you whisper toward the metal sheet above you.

“Wait!” Lucy calls. “The ground is hollow here.”

Tim returns to Lucy’s side and hears his footsteps echo. It sounds like there’s a metal sheeting under the dirt beneath his boots. He raises a hand to call a few officers over before someone screams. It’s muffled by the metal and earth, but it’s a clear sign of pain. Better than that, it means someone is still alive.

“Find a way in,” Tim demands quietly.

As he searches the area around the hollow spot, he wishes to hear your voice again. Not another scream, but an acknowledgement that you survived whatever caused you such agony.

"Bradford!” Janssen calls.

He waves Tim over and points to a small opening. Together, they lift the heavy steel cover away from the round hole. Another barrier of cloth and metal sheets blocks the entrance, and as Tim digs through, he wonders how much air is getting through, if any. The moment he can see inside the fortified bunker, he pulls his weapon and drops silently into the metal housing.

What was likely meant to be a storm shelter has been converted into a survivalist’s nightmare. A small corridor leads to a wider opening, and a dim light is the only sign that anyone is inside. Tim raises his guns and stays ready to shoot as he nears the opening.

“Tim,” you whisper.

Tim hears your voice and doesn’t hesitate to step into the open room and swing his gun as he clears the small, square area. Ferguson lies unconscious in the corner, and Tim can only see your back, the restraints keeping you in place, and the rope loosely wrapped around your neck and shoulders.

Your shoulders shake as you exhale slowly. When you notice that you can breathe again, you take a deep breath before letting your head fall forward.

“Tim,” you repeat, trying not to think of anything else.

Tim says your name as he holsters his gun. You sit up straight and try to turn your head to the side but are stopped by the pull of the rope and the pain in your shoulders. You hiss in pain before returning to your previous position.

“You can’t trick me, Roscoe,” you mumble.

Tim steps toward Ferguson and handcuffs him. He repeats your name as he moves into your line of sight. His hands are raised to his shoulders, though his expression is pure concern. When he sees the blood, sweat, and dirt covering you and your clothes, he has to fight not to rush to your side.

“Tim,” you say again. Your voice is louder than before but still has an untrusting quality. “Tim.”

When you start crying and lean toward Tim, he kneels before you. He reaches down carefully to use his key and remove the handcuff from your ankle. Your head rests on his shoulder as he moves, and when he sees the damage done to your ankle, the swelling, deep bruising, and handcuff-induced gash, he looks back at Ferguson.

Tim sits up slowly and raises a hand toward your face. He pushes your hair back softly and waits until your eyes meet to speak.

“I need to go get backup,” he says.

“No, no! Please don’t leave me, Tim,” you plead through your slowing tears.

You lean forward and wince when your shoulder meets its new range of motion.

“I need to get Ferguson out of here,” Tim explains. “There’s a lot of people above us waiting for me to signal.”

“Tim, please.”

“Can I yell?”

You swallow as Tim moves closer to you. He stops an inch away from you, with your knees almost touching his ribs.

“I’m not going to yell unless you say I can,” he adds.

Tim waits for your nod, then leans away from you slightly to yell for Janssen and Lucy to come in.

“Help me,” you whisper when Tim’s eyes return to you.

He sits back on his heels as he unloops the rope from around you. It’s heavy, and he sees your shoulders drop once it’s away from you. They drop unevenly, though, and he knows you need more help than he can give you.

“I’m staying with you,” Tim promises, “but I have to untie your hands.”

You shake your head quickly, and Tim moves his hands to the sides of your thighs as he agrees not to leave. He asks Lucy to free your hands and keeps his hands on you as Lucy cuts the restraints.

“Thank you,” you say.

Tim doesn’t answer before you pull your arms forward. With them free, you don’t hesitate to raise them and wrap them around his shoulders. It hurts, and you sob as you fall forward and cling to Tim. He welcomes your touch and wraps his arms around your waist, but he doesn’t touch you, too mindful of how injured you are and where those unseen injuries are.

“I knew you’d come,” you say through your tears.

Tim looks over your shoulder as Janssen and a few other officers carry Ferguson to the opening. He should call an EMT to meet you here, but he can’t let you go yet. His grip tightens around your waist without thinking. When your only reaction is relaxing against him, Tim holds you as tightly as he needs to. Your tears are drying, and you turn your face toward Tim’s neck to speak.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t leave more clues,” you begin. “But I knew you didn’t need them.”

“The paper was smart,” Tim replies. “And I will always find you.”

“He wanted to lure you down here and trick you into killing me. Every time I called out for you he reminded me that we would both die.”

Tim exhales deeply, unsure how to tell you he knows you and he’d never make that mistake. He sits back, twisting you so that he’s holding you against his chest rather than letting you support your own weight.

“It hurts,” you say softly.

“Can you get out of here? Go up the ladder?” he asks.

“There’s a ladder?”

Tim’s brows furrow at your question. How did Ferguson get you down here if you weren’t conscious when you came in? He shakes his head; the detectives (and Tim) will look into the details of your abduction later. For now, your safety is the priority.

“Can you climb out?” Tim asks.

“Not without help,” you answer. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Tim looks at your ankle again, and his eyes catch on the fresh blood pooling against your collarbone. He leans closer to you to find the source. When he sees the cut across the front of your neck, he knows you need help sooner rather than later.

“Hold on,” he instructs you.

“I- I can’t move my shoulder.”

Tim lays you against the metal floor and looks at your left shoulder. It’s out of its socket, but Tim can’t risk pushing it back in without knowing if your muscles or ligaments are still intact.

“Please just get me out of here.”

Tim nods and turns around so your hips are beside his shoulders. He leans down and pulls your legs over his shoulder rather than your arms. With one hand pressing your shoulder to your side, Tim stands and pulls you up in a modified fireman’s carry. You stifle the yell that tries to escape, and Tim’s heart breaks when he hears it. He spent so much time fighting, desperate to find you, that he didn’t consider how different things would be when he did.

With the help of Janssen, Nolan, and Lucy, Tim gets you back above ground. He collapses to the ground but makes sure you’re set down with care. You reach out for him immediately, and Tim pulls your chest to his again. The paramedics are close, but until they arrive, Tim will hold you like he never has.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim whispers.

“You found me,” you reply. “You found me.”

Your right hand squeezes Tim’s shirt in your hand as you hold onto him. You didn’t doubt him for a second. Being in his arms gives you the safety and comfort you need to fall apart because you know he’ll hold you together.

“I know what it means,” you say. “Or I think I do. B-Y-L-I; it’s backwards, right?”

Tim nods against you, and you smile through your tears. The paramedics arrive, and you’re carefully removed from Tim’s grasp, though his hand stays in yours. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to let go, but Tim has already made a new promise, and he won’t leave your side until he’s forced to.

“Where’s Kojo?” you ask as Tim leads you into his house.

“He’s staying with Lucy tonight. He gets excited when he sees you and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Tim answers.

He guides you to the couch and sits beside you after placing your things in his guest bedroom. Tim refused to let you return to your apartment alone after being discharged from the hospital, and you didn’t need much convincing to stay with him while you heal.

You lean your head against Tim’s shoulder, careful not to jostle your shoulder in its sling. He moves his arm to welcome you closer and tilts his head to rest beside yours.

“It’s I love you backward, right?”

Tim looks down at your hand, surprised to see your fortune in it. He takes it from you and flips it to see his handwriting. He nods and sits up straight. When you turn toward Tim, he wipes under your eyes as if he can still see the tears you cried when he saved you. Your skin is littered with scars and reminders of what Ferguson did to you, but Tim still seems to only see you underneath all of it.

“It’s I love you, Bradford,” he answers. “Whether you wanted that to mean ‘from Bradford’ or something else.”

“I begged for you to save me while I was down there with him.”

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize. I just- I need you to know I trust you that much because I know you love me. I’ve known for a long time. But I also knew that even if you didn’t find me in time, I would die loving you. And life was worth living because you were in it.”

Tim’s hands rise out of his lap before freezing. He looks down at your neck and back to your eyes before smiling. His eyes look misty, but you know yours are, too, so you decide not to tease him about it this one time.

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands to kiss you,” he mumbles.

You hold his shoulder as you lean in and kiss him. His hands raise to your waist without thought, and other than the soreness of using your obliques to search for Tim while tied in place, it’s a painless touch. Tim moves slowly and intentionally as he kisses you, reminding you of everything he said and did, even what you weren’t present for.

“I love you, Tim Bradford,” you say against his lips.

“I love you. I will always love you, and I will never lose you again.”

Tim slides the fortune into your pocket as he kisses you again, and every pain and fear you faced disappears because you know Tim will always find you and make you whole.

[moonsandmobilityaids]

To Be Human

Pairings: James Potter x disabled!reader (part of my poly!marauders x disabled!reader universe) Summary: James can be a perfectionist, which is alright some of the time but you know full well that this isn't one of those times. Warnings: Mentions of chronic pain. Series Masterlist

The Gryffindor common room is quieter than usual, the crackling fire and occasional rustle of parchment the only sounds breaking the stillness. Most students have retired to their dormitories or found other corners of the castle to occupy, leaving behind the traces of a day filled with lessons and chatter.

But one figure remains steadfast in the dwindling light, hunched over a table cluttered with ink pots and rolls of parchment. James's brows furrow as he writes, quill moving in smooth, determined strokes. Every now and then, he pauses, eyes scanning the lines he has already penned, searching for errors or omissions.

Your gaze lingers on him from where you sit by the fire, wheelchair tucked into a cosy nook. A blanket is draped across your lap, offering a small measure of comfort against the ache that has settled in your limbs after a day of exertion. It's a familiar pain now, one you've learned to navigate through gritted teeth and sheer willpower.

Yet tonight, it's not your own discomfort that holds your attention. It's the sight before you—James, whose focus hasn't wavered from his work since dinner. He's been at it for hours, rewriting what appears to be an essay.

He writes a sentence, pauses, frowns, then crosses it out with a swift, frustrated stroke. You can almost feel the tension radiating off him, and it tugs at your heart.

"James," you call softly, not wanting to startle him but knowing that if you don't intervene, he'll likely work until dawn, oblivious to the passage of time.

His head jerks up, glasses askew, and he blinks at you as though surfacing from deep underwater. A small, weary smile touches his lips. "Hey, sweetheart. Didn't realise you were still awake."

You watch him, a mix of amusement and concern dancing in your eyes. "James, you've been at this essay for hours. It's nearly midnight."

"Is it?" James exhales heavily, raking a hand through his hair, which stands on end even more than before. "I didn't notice. I just... can't seem to get it right."

With a determined push, you roll forward, bridging the gap between you and James in two swift moves. You lean over the table, your gaze drawn to the paper he's been scratching away at for the past hour. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," he admits, tapping his quill against the edge of the page with an intensity that mirrors his frustration. He doesn't look up, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight furrowing of his brow. "It just doesn't feel right. I've reworded this sentence at least five times, and it still isn't perfect."

"Perfect?" you echo, tilting your head as you study him. Your eyes drift back to the essay. His handwriting, though hasty and unrefined, is legible—a far cry from the indecipherable scrawl of some students. The words flow across the page, each argument articulated with precision and clarity.

But that's the thing about James: good enough is never good enough. It has to be flawless, impeccable—perfect. This relentless pursuit of excellence is a trait you've come to associate with him, one that paints a picture of a boy driven by an insatiable desire to succeed.

It also tells you how much pressure he puts on himself.

"James," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach out, placing a light hand on his arm. "You've been staring at this parchment for hours. It's good—more than good."

He looks up at you, eyes clouded with frustration. "It's not good enough," he insists, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "This is McGonagall we're talking about. She expects our best."

"Exactly, our best—not perfection." You hold his gaze, trying to convey your sincerity. "Sometimes, I think you forget that they're not the same thing."

For a moment, James is still, the rhythm of his quill ceasing mid-tap against the table's edge. He looks at you, his eyes searching yours for something unsaid, something that might bridge the gap between his relentless drive and your offer of understanding. He's been this way for as long as you've known him—always striving to prove himself, to be the very best. It's not just about meeting the high standards he sets for himself, but also those he believes others have placed upon him.

"I just..." He exhales, a slow release of breath that seems to carry the weight of his unspoken fears. His shoulders slump slightly, the tension in them easing just a fraction. "I need it to be perfect."

You study him then, your gaze softening with the edges of understanding, yet sharpening with concern. "Why?" you ask, the single word cutting through the space between you.

He blinks, caught off guard by the directness of your question. "Because," he says after a moment, his voice barely more than a whisper, "if it's not perfect, then I've failed. I've let everyone down."

The heaviness in his words settles in your chest like a stone. You reach over, placing your hand atop his where it rests on the table. His fingers are stiff beneath your touch.

"James, one essay isn't going to determine your worth," you say gently. "You don't have to be perfect all the time."

He looks down at your hands, his own still unmoving. There's a tension in his shoulders that wasn't there before—a rigidity that speaks of unease. "It's just... I've always been good at things. Sports, school, everything. I feel like people expect that from me now."

You nod slowly, an understanding smile playing at the corners of your lips. You know all too well the weight of self-imposed expectations, how they can feel as real and pressing as any physical burden. "I understand better than you might think," you say softly. "But remember, it's okay to not be okay sometimes. To make mistakes, to not be perfect—it's part of being human."

James opens his mouth, perhaps to protest or offer a rebuttal, but you raise your hand slightly, asking for him to hear you out.

"Listen," you begin, your voice steady despite the tremor in your thoughts. "I live with chronic pain every day. Some days, I can barely get out of bed, and other activities... well, they're simply out of the question. I've had to learn—and believe me, it wasn't easy—that I won't always be at my best. Sometimes, just making it through the day is a victory in itself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression softening as he absorbs your words.

"I used to feel like I was failing if I couldn't keep up with everyone else," you continue, your eyes meeting his. "But I've come to realise that just because I'm not doing things perfectly doesn't mean I'm not doing enough. Some days, showing up and trying is the best I can do."

James's sigh is soft, almost lost in the rustle of leaves above. His hand tightens around yours, a lifeline anchoring him to your words. "What if being good enough... isn't enough for me?"

"Then you're missing the point," you say gently, turning your head to catch his gaze. Your smile is small but sincere, a beacon amidst the storm inside him. "Being 'good enough' doesn't mean settling for mediocrity. It's about understanding that perfection is an unattainable goal. You excel at what you do, James, and no one can deny that. But you also need to allow yourself to be human, to have strengths and weaknesses. You don't always have to be the best. You just need to be the best you can be."

He releases a slow breath, tension seeping from his shoulders as he digests your words. A frown lingers, etched into the lines of his forehead—a testament to years spent under the weight of self-imposed expectations. "I just... I don't want to disappoint anyone."

James, you could never let us down," you say firmly, your voice a soothing balm against the sting of his insecurities. "Not me, not Remus, not Sirius. We love you for who you are, not because you're perfect."

His gaze flickers to you, the sharpness in his eyes softening into something warm and vulnerable. A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, as if your words have cast a gentle Lumos in the dark corridors of his mind.

"How do you always know what to say?" he asks, the hint of a smile still playing on his lips.

"Years of practice," you reply with a slight shrug, but your eyes betray the depth of your affection. "And a lot of overthinking."

He chuckles softly, the sound like a crackling hearth driving away winter's chill. The tension bleeds from his shoulders, replaced by an ease that wasn't there before. He sets the parchment aside, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

"Maybe you're right," he admits, running a hand through his hair, the gesture almost boyish in its unconcern. "Maybe I should take a break."

The corners of your mouth lift into a small smile, a warmth spreading through your chest as his fingers entwine with yours. "I think that might be best, James."

James pauses, his gaze locked on the intricate patterns etched into the wooden tabletop before lifting to meet yours. His stern facade has softened, replaced by an expression that's almost vulnerable. "Thank you, darling," he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "I don't always realise how harshly I judge myself until you hold up the mirror."

Your heart flutters at his words, the affectionate gesture. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, your smile never leaving your face. "That's why I'm here, James," you reply softly, "to remind you that you don't have to carry the world on your shoulders."

He leans in then, closing the gap between you until there's nothing but shared breath and heartbeat. The kiss is gentle, a promise wrapped in warmth and understanding. It lingers, a testament to the bond you share, unbroken despite the world trying to pull it apart.

"You always know how to make me feel better," he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away.

Your smile is faint, touched with a sadness that has nothing to do with defeat. "I try."

[darnell-la]

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader

warnings: toxicity, abandon (for a reason), fight, blood, swords, crying, yelling, begging, near death, treated, depression, growth, smut, claiming, etc.

request: Well again sorry if you do decide to do a part two. Maybe female y/n does end up going with them cause she can't exactly walk and when the big epic fight happens she actually like helps Logan and uh..darn it you have her name in the story and I already forgot so yeah so female y/n gets injured protecting her..and like after that logan manages to finish the fight due to his rage about it. Uhh like maybe a small time skip with female y/n fully recovering and basically it's logan claiming female y/n as hia forever - @reeeeee3737388

note: this is a rewrite of the Wolverine move when Logan howlett is in Japan. Here is part two.

———

The next morning, Logan woke up first, surprised after he wiped his eyes and yawned, realizing that he hadn’t had a bad dream, or woke up in the middle of the night.

“Fuck,” the man dragged low as he turned his body, facing y/n that was lying on her back. Logan scanned the girl's body that wasn’t covered in the blanket he had thrown over the both of them.

He couldn’t help but think about yesterday. He had gone on for so long. Of course, he took a few breaths due to her blacking out needing a break.

She was too fucked out to speak and tell him she couldn’t anymore, so she laid there and took it. Gripping him every time she came.

“Logan!” Mariko yelled from inside of the safe room he had locked her in. Her speaker still worked, and she had just woken up after being there for almost twenty-four hours.

“Shit,” Logan rolled his eyes with a loud groan as he got up from the bed. He fixed himself up, making sure his zipper wasn’t down and his belt was buckled. He didn’t know how to tell the princess he fucked the assassin to submission.

“Stay back!” Logan yelled before running into the stew metal door. He continued until the door opened, revealing a tried Mariko with snacks in hand as well as a drink.

“What was taking you so long, Logan? Are they gone- Oh my god!” Mariko gasped as she saw the bodies on the ground. “W-What — Oh my god,” she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a hostage,” Logan said. As Mariko gave Logan a confused look, they heard a thud in the room he left y/n in. “She’s awake,” he said before showing Mariko.

As the two walked into the room, they saw y/n on the floor, pushing her upper body off of the floor as her legs stayed crossed and twitched.

“Fuckin’ fell,” y/n said, upset that her lower body ached this bad. She had no idea how it could be sore and numb at the same time. “Had to — Interrogate her?” Logan shrugged, trying to find a good lie.

“Why is she naked?” Mariko asked, just now making y/n realize her breasts were out and her skirt sat up so far, they could see her mound.

“Fuck,” y/n said under her breath as she pulled her skirt down and covered her breast. “Look-“ Logan went to say but Mariko passed him an eye roll to go help y/n.

“I’m sorry so sorry he-“ Mariko went to speak, but y/m but her off. “It’s okay — H-He didn’t hurt me, I’m just a little-“ y/n tried getting up but she fell back down, making Logan feel bad.

“Shit,” the man said as he walked over to the younger lady and picked her up, placing her on the bed she fell out of after trying to maybe escape, but what would she say to her master?

If she hadn’t come back with Mariko, he’d probably kill her. He needed Mariko to lore Logan to him.

“Sorry,” was all Logan said as he stepped back, seeing the state he had left a stranger in. “I — I needed to eat some steak loose, and I didn’t want to kill you,” Logan admitted.

“Well, isn’t that charming,” y/n faked smiling before turning her head to lay down, away from him. “Hey, if you hadn’t barged in her, actin’ all innocent at first, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Oh, so I can’t look good or else the Wolverine will find me and fuck me!” Y/n yelled the last two words, making sure he felt how stupid he sounded.

“Well, maybe, yes — You fuckin’ liked it anyway. Could tell the way you squeezed my cock,” the man said through his teeth before leaving out of the room.

“Is he always like this? God,” Y/n rolled her eyes as she flopped back into the soft pillow. “I’ve only known him for a short time, but you’re the only one he’s been nice to, so far,” Mariko smiled.

Mariko has never seen anything like this before. She didn’t know if having sex with an assassin was normal, but she didn’t judge Logan. As long as the girl lying on the bed was fine, Mariko was fine.

“Alright, get up — We’re gettin’ out of here,” Logan barged into the room after an hour of Mariko cooking whatever she could find and serving it to the two.

“Ian goin’ nowhere with you,” y/n said. The way she spoke was different than yesterday. He didn’t know why, but she did. For the past hour, she’s decided the best thing to do is not work for Mariko’s grandfather anymore.

If she went back, she’ll be killed. She needed to vanish and make it seem like she had died trying to fight the Wolverine.

“Oh, yes, you are, and you’re gonna tell us who you work for,” Logan said as he grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her off of the bed. She instantly fell to the ground. She felt like a newborn dear.

Logan rolled his eyes as he dropped his hands. The groan that left his mouth, annoyed y/n. ���This is your fucking fault? Like, don’t you know how to take a fuckin’ break you rabid beast,”

Y/n tried getting up by herself, but she couldn’t feel her legs only tingle. Her cunt had throbbed as well, reminding her of last night. Fuck, he fucked her good.

“Ain’t like you stopped cumin’ either,” Logan said, looking right into the girl's eyes. “Body reaction, dickhead,” y/n lied, knowing she felt too damn good when she came around his cock.

“Oh, yeah? Wanna fuckin’ bet on that, Bub?” The man asked as he walked over to y/n, then picked her up. “No, you fuckin- Hey!” Y/n yelled at the man after he threw her on the bed.

Logan hovered over Y/n, not making a move, but looking down at her, eyes dark and cock picking through his jeans.

He’s supposed to be taking this situation seriously. He’s supposed to kill her and run off with Mariko to get her to safety, but instead, he’s pussy-whipped over an assassin sent to weaken him.

“Tell me you like it,” Logan said, voice sounding a bit like a beg, but he wasn’t going to make it more obvious. “Why? You get off on it, big boy?” She asked with a smirk, knowing he did. He is right now.

“Maybe I do — Whatcha gonna do about it, Bub?” Logan’s face leaned towards her, making their noses touch. The low growls Logan let out, only made it harder for y/n to deny him.

“Names y/n — Maybe ask before you try gettin’ in my pants again,” she said, making the man chuckle under his. “Try? Baby, I did,”

His cocky reply left y/n silent. It was true. He did get in her pants. He did get through her slit and made her cum on his cock multiple times.

“You’re a dick,” y/n said, voice low and shy all of a sudden. Even though her lower body was numb, she couldn’t stop her cunt from throbbing. “You like it — Can smell ya,”

“Get off,” y/n said in a serious tone she forced. Instead of arguing, he did as told with a chuckle. “Gonna come back with some clothes and carry you today. You piss me off, and those legs will stay dead longer than they have to,”

“Her grandfather’s alive, and you didn’t fucking tell us!?” Logan asked. It’s. After a day of Logan carrying the woman, she finally told them who wanted Mariko, and why.

Logan wasn’t happy about it. He had thrown y/n to the ground as they walked the streets of Tokyo.

“Why would I!? I wanted to leave!” Y/n said as she slowly got up, able to walk now, but Logan insisted. He said she would walk too slowly. In actuality, he just wanted to carry the woman around.

“Let’s go, Mariko,” Logan said as he turned around to head to where Mariko’s grandfather was hiding out. “No! H-He wants you there! If you do, you’ll give him what he wants,” y/n got up and tried pulling the man back to save his life.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Logan shouted as he yanked his arm away from her. “Don’t act like you fuckin’ care for us now. You came to kill me,” Logan growled in her face.

“I didn’t come to kill you, I came to weaken you. A-And I know that’s not better, but- You know how this life goes,” y/n said, making Logan chuckle.

“You had a choice,” Logan said, which she did, for this mission. She wouldn’t for any other. “You know I didn’t. I-I probably still don’t,” she said.

“Then leave — I won’t follow, just fucking leave,” Logan said through his teeth, mocking what she said a couple of days ago.

The face he gave looked serious, but he wasn’t anywhere near. He just needed y/n to get the fuck out of here before things got bad. She has no power, and they wouldn’t kill Mariko. She and Logan would be the only ones in danger.

“A-Are you serious?” She asked low with a crack in her voice. “Do you see me stuttering?” The man said, making y/n’s face twitch with different expressions.

She knows they don’t know each other, but the hint Logan has been giving and the way he fucked her that day — She thought her care about her at least a little, but her stilling her to fuck off.

“Logan, I don’t think she should-“ Mariko tried saying but Logan turned around and grabbed her arm, pulling Mariko away to go fight.

Y/n stayed behind, standing in the street as her eyes began to water. Logan could smell it. He felt horrible, but he can’t show it. He had to leave her. There was no other way.

“You don’t need her anymore, you need me. So fight me!” Logan shouted as he brought out his claws. Mariko’s grandfather had finally revealed himself after Logan told him he knew he was alive.

“Who told you it was me?” The old man asked, genuinely wanting to know. He began saying names until he stopped at y/n, seeing the way Logan’s eye twitched.

Y/n had only me ruin her name to Mariko, but he over heard. He was curious, but that might’ve put her in danger.

“Oh, y/n — She’s a wonderful soul. Kind and obedient, but too pretty to send on a mission against the Wolverine, I see,” the old man said, lightly feeling the tension between Logan and just her name.

“You leave her alone,” Logan said, making the man chuckle. “Now, why would I do that? She works for me. She means nothing to you,”

Logan had gotten pissed off from his comment, so he attacked him. The two started fighting as Mariko tried thinking and looking around for ways to stop her grandfather.

Y/n had followed the two from a distance earlier today. Now she’s hiding behind objects, hoping Logan would win the fight he’s in right now, but he’s struggling against the man in the metal suit.

Y/n quickly ran over to the computer section she had scanned for. His suit had to be connected to something right?

“Y/n!?” Mariko yelled as she ran over to her, surprised at her appearance. She shouldn't be here. She knows her grandfather will kill her if she sees she’s snooping around, and going against him.

“Don’t worry, I’m just doing the right things,” y/n said, trying in the computers to shut anything down that was on. “You’re a good woman, y/n. Go help, Logan. I’ve got this,” she said.

Y/n nodded her head before she ran towards where the two were fighting. They had fallen down a couple of stories, so she ran down those stairs until she made eye contact with him. The silver samurai.

“Well, look who’s come back. Couldn’t abandon your old man?” The older man asked as he threw Logan across the room. “Logan!” Y/n shouted, seeing how weak the man was.

“You’re pathetic. Worthless! I send you on a mission, and betray me — Do you know what I do to traitors!?” The older man asked as Logan slowly looked up, seeing who the old man was roaming to, and once he did, his eyes widened.

“Y-Y/n,” he said low as he tried to get up, but he slipped, legs feeling weak and his ribs in pain. “I show no mercy,” the silver samurai said before he lunged at y/n slicing her clean across her stomach before she could react.

“No!” Logan shouted, trying to gain strength but his regenerating powers were weakened and slowed than usual. The silver samurai was prepared for tonight.

Y/n tried fighting, grabbing a sword that was on the floor, but it was soon taken from her. The old man used it, stabbing the young lady through her stomach.

Y/n gasped, hands falling down as she looked into the man’s eyes. “You were a good assassin while it lasted. May you pass and do better in the next life,” was the last thing the old man said before he pulled the sword out.

Y/n fell to the ground, slumped and gushing blood she thought she could stop, but her hands were too weak to lift. She couldn’t move.

“No!” Logan yelled, voice growling as his eyes darkened. The man’s claws came out as his veins popped throughout his whole body. With one loud animalistic yell, the man ran towards the old man in the suit.

Logan felt bad at first for what he was about to do, but y/n was innocent. He was an innocent young lady who grew up, forced to think she had to work for the older man.

Logan let all of his anger out and finished the grandfather off, throwing him out of the tower they were fighting in. His suit broke apart as it hit the ground way below.

Logan huffed and puffed, still feeling anger until he snapped back into reality, thinking of y/n. He quickly turned around and ran to the wounded lady on the cold ground.

“Y/n,” the man said as he dropped to his knees. His hands instantly pressed down on her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Get help! Now!” Logan yelled at Mariko who looked down at him from upstairs.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me! It’s gonna be okay, okay? Hey, it’s alright,” the man couldn’t stop speaking as he watched the girl's head move and mouth part. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

“Take your time, what is it? C‘mon, Bub, just get it out. What is it?” He asked as one of his hands came to her cheek to keep her head steady. Her eyes met his, allowing her to see how glossy they were.

“I- sorry,” she choked, feeling like this would’ve never happened if she had just kept her mouth shut or told the princess about what her grandfather had planned. Y/n was in the middle of it all and stayed quiet for her master.

Y/n’s eyes slowly began to close, making Logan's heart speed up. “N-No - No, y/n — Y/n, no!” The man slapped her face, but she couldn’t stay up anymore.

Months passed, and Logan did everything he could to keep y/n up and running, making sure she ate what she had to, drank what she had to, walked as much as she had to, and rested as much as she had to.

Y/n would argue with him almost every day about it, crying into his chest about how hard it was living like this. Living slowly and not being able to train like she used to every day.

“You were forced to train. Now you can finally rest — By me,” was something Logan would say all the time to call her down.

Thankfully, y/n was now fully recovered. She apologized to the man many times about how she acted towards him while she was healing. All he did was laugh at the girl as he told her he was fine and never felt any different about her.

“They’re gone,” Logan spoke, breaking the silence between the two after she had woken up from a long nap. Today was day one of her full recovery, and she looked as beautiful as ever.

“Yeah — All thanks to you,” Y/n smiled as his hands tiptoed around her half-naked body. The panties and bra set he gave her were cute, and she decided to wear them to sleep last night, not thinking she’d wake up to him right next to her.

“It’s all you, Bub — You’re stronger than you think,” he said, making her giggle. “And how would you know that, mister Wolverine?” She asked, making a low chuckle slip from his mouth.

“You healed me,” he said after the seconds of laughter between the mouth. “Come again?” She asked the man. “You healed me — Saved me from being in the gutter. It takes a strong person to the that. A strong human, and you’ve managed to do that when we first met,”

Y/n shyly smiled at the man, not knowing what to say. “You know, I can’t let that go, right?” He said. “Let what go?” She asked. “Let you go — I worked my ass to keep you well. For me. Of course for your own self but — Y/n, I need you,”

Y/n’s hands stopped stroking the man’s hair at the shocking words. She thought this might only be a fling, but apparently, he thought otherwise.

“I’ve been alone and hurt for too long, carrying around anger, and beating myself up, but when I’m with you- It seems to all go away. You make me feel whole — I need you,”

“A-Are you sure it’s not just some attachment issue-“ she tried saying, but he cut her off with a long kiss, hoping she’d get his serious this situation was for him.

“Ain’t no issue, Bub — Just you,” Logan said, hoping she wouldn’t turn the old man around. “Logan — We’re so different,” Y/n said, but Logan didn’t care.

The man’s hand traveled to her face, cupping and rubbing at it. “Don’t turn me down, Bub — Please,” the man’s voice came out low. She could tell this was a huge jump for him.

“I — I could never turn you down, Logan,” she smiled, as his eyes widened. “Thank god,” Logan quickly hovered over the young lady as he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her roughly and sweetly.

“You gon quit that assassin shit for me, Bub? Can’t have you goin’ out endangering yourself,” Logan began nibbling along the girl's cheek and neck. “I retired,” y/n giggled.

“Good girl,” the man continued kissing down her body, hooking his fingers on her panties until he ripped them off. “Need this pretty girl safe and sound,” the man smirked down at y/n as she looked up at him.

It didn’t take long for Logan to have the young girl squirming and whining his name as he repeatedly hit her right spot.

“Mhm hm — Right there? Gettin’ to the right spot?” He asked, making her nod with a cry. “R-Right there,” her hands wrapped around the man’s neck.

“Gonna be good for me, and cum?” The man could feel her tightening around her every second. “Y-Yes,” was all she said before she came around him with a shake.

The growl he let out buried inside of her head. He couldn’t get enough of her. “Treatin’ an old man so good — Gotta keep you forever,” the man said in the crook of her neck, rolling his hips just right.

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go,”

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ